I would love to warm up my house. I have taken down most of our family photos because the frames were mismatched and the pictures were mostly outdated. My interest in house decorating ebbs and flows, but if anyone knows where I can get some funky art, preferrably by local artists at a price that lends itself to the starving artist theory, then I am in the market. Abstracts and still lifes are not my scene, but I love most everything else. Thanks ahead of time!
My husband is not much older than I am. Only a year and a half, but he has begun to grey in the last few years pretty rapidly. He usually keeps a really short haircut and because it looks like his skull is silver, I call him the silver fox. Now, his dad had red hair (sorry Ben, but you know what's left isn't red anymore) and Ted's beard always grows out red (with grey, he he). Anyone who has met our sweet Petunia knows her hair is red (light red). The last few weeks I thought my eyes were failing me, but it is now confirmed. My sweet PRESCHOOLER who is not even five years of age is getting grey hair. She had a total of six I could EASILY see as of yesterday. I think her hair will be beautiful with red and silver mixed, but I hope it takes its sweet time... say maybe high school before REALLY starting to show.
How does Amazon know everything? When I look for books, cds, etc to spread into from my current interest and past experience, I am able to type in something I know I like and 8 times out of 10 find my way to something new and equally likeable. Many times it mixes up books and the like and keeps me swirling about in my own little tornado of memories and thoughts of how much I thought I would like to hear that/read that/see that someday. I am thankful this feature exists, but in my paranoid moments it feels very Big Brotherish and scary. Does anyone experience this or is it just me?
Another year gone by to be thankful that we were able to gather with family and friends and enjoy the holiday. The kids were grateful, the food was good, and chaos was minimal. I have confiscated the middle child's Nintendo DS and the oldest childs Iron Chef America game and I will now run off to eat my Christmas chocolates while I rot my wee little brain....
Aurelia says to her preschool teacher... baby Jesus is gonna run outta the manger... why....to find his family....where....in the forest.... what are they doing there?....looking for bears....
Daniel says I give the warmest hugs. He wants to take his teacher a AA battery so her Smartboard pen will stop "going out of calibration."
Aurelia wants to ask this question every night before sleep: What if a ghost comes in my room? Well, you give it a hug to see if it is just lost and looking for its mommy. But if it is mean then your big, bad ferocious brothers will come in and beat it up and make it leave. ..... She hears that answer and smiles, drifting off to sleep.
Cory has a lead in Lil Abner. I really hope he keeps his schoolwork and behavior together so he can do this. I know he loves the theater and I only want him to be happy.
I burned myself with Nair.
Online shopping rocks.
Ebay snipers do not.
The news makes me battle depression.
Went to see Kathy Mattea at Mountain Stage Sunday and wound up seeing a Duff Goldman cake (from Ace of Cakes).
Cory decided he wanted to contact his biological person. I hope he receives all he is looking for with that relationship and it doesn't create any conflict. I think he loves Ted too much to start saying "your not my real dad", but the worry is there. I think it will be ok. I wish I could remember when it became awkward to hug and kiss him and harder to talk to him. I wish I could go back and make it not so. I miss my baby.
Oh yeah, I've been a little late in the year with this!! LOL
For those of you interested in charitable gifting for the holidays, this is a pretty neat idea.
I'm wrestling them. I'm not a very skilled wrestler. There are some that don't even belong to me and yet they must be taken on. Winter is a long, dreary season that I am certain, year after year, will never end. I feel altered, like I am not behind the steering wheel of my own bus. Truly, I want only the simplest of things, and yet the road to them seems to be filled with avalanches and potholes and herds of shepherdless farm animals. From point A to point B without all the twist and turns.... Measuring time in five minute chunks I can maneuver through. Blah.
Tomorrow is the dentist day the kids look forward to every six months. They can barely be put to bed with the ecstasy of it all. I hope they don't lose that for a long, long time. Maybe ever. Can I can it up for them? They seem to have so much of it. Save it for a rainy day?
Worry not. Everything here is fine. No badness. Just differentness.
I waited on line for an hour, had a nice chat with a woman who was clearly voting differently than myself, and then listened to NPR on the way to work. From that drive I can pass along these peer lending sites to you who do not wish to borrow from conventional lenders.
Lending Club
Prosper
I've never used them to borrow, but I like to feel smart and ahead of the curve and NPR helps me feel that way!
My daughter can be persuaded out of throwing a fit (when her brother is going home with her grandpa, but not her), just by hearing that she gets to have "mommy time".
The raspberry plants in our front yard are partially everbearing. So each morning, Daniel gets to pick one or two ice cold berries off the vines and chomp them on the way to school.
Making shirts with my children was successful. They were happy and it was time well spent.
Being able to take my daughter to school for the first time this year (because of a dr.'s appt)
Knowing my baby boy will be ready to take his driver's test in less than a week.
In the next week I plan to post some pictures of the world's ugliest blanket. It is almost finished and is one of only three in the world. Maybe I will put them all together and feature them as a collection. Each child will now have a blanket made with nothing but leftover yarn and oodles of love. How silly.
The great big wonderful news is : Cory has a 3.0 GPA. He pulled that one off with little effort. He seemed very excited and I hope it inspires him to try his hardest. Congratulations, son!
The horrible, dreadful mean bad news is: Wendy's no longer serves breakfast... this includes my beloved muffin. Rat bastards!!
As a woman, a mother, a citizen, I cannot fathom this woman anywhere near the White House. If ever there was a robot that just spits out cliche, rhetoric soundbites that do not make one ounce of sense it is this woman. She dresses nicely and her makeup looks nice. SO WHAT??!! Listening to her makes my head hurt. Our country needs to have a leader that not only knows something about what is going on, but is able to tie that in with being believable as a leader. Someone who is cool on the surface even when the situation is uncomfortable. THIS IS NOT IT!!
Daniel has been singing culturally diverse songs (with no words that I understand) for his fall music program at school.... that makes me happy.
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Cory turned seventeen this weekend.... that makes me happy/sad.
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Aurelia is a dancing machine..... happy.
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Ted is buying a '96 Mustang GT (cherry red w/leather).... jury is out on how I feel about it, but he better by golly love the dickens out of it for a VERY long time.
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I have a sudden want for a teeny, tiny dog. NOT a puppy that will grow into a larger dog, but a small dog (like a yorkipoo, or maltipoo). That would make me very, very happy, I think.
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Winter is on its way.... yuck.
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My new khaki pants shrunk and are tight and shortlegged.... grrrr.
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New season of fall television has begun and I am not officially braindead watching reruns of Ron Popeil's Showtime Rotisserie. LOL... happpppppy.
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Overall...... happy.
We arrived in Parkersburg in the early evening on Friday. After we landed in our deluxe hotel room, we headed out to have a meal and came back to listen to live jazz and play backgammon in the hotel library. The music drifted into that lovely room and we played for a couple of hours. Toward the end of our game, the ghost tour lady brought the group for that evening in and wrapped things up. It was there that we overheard she had been chased off as a devil worshipper somewhere along her route. Hmm. (A side note about our hotel: they have the maid service place a stamp of the hotel insignia on the first little square of toilet paper when they clean a room. That just cracks me up. I brought the toilet paper squares back to Daniel who will cherish them.)
Pictures from that evening are here:
We took our time getting out and about the next day. After a leisurely detour (code for Ted going the wrong way for about a half hour), we arrived at the North Bend Rail Trail and rented the last two bikes on hand. Ted rode the one with the handlebars a foot below the seat level, forcing him to lean forward the whole ride, and the rock hard seat. Mine had a slightly cushier seat and weirdly sticky handles. As we set out, a stream of horse drawn wagons made their way past us from the opposite direction. It was very peaceful and serene and I look forward to expanding to some bike rides here locally. The only problems I experienced were the times I was forced to ride the crap bike and of course the tunnels. I get a little panicky with the earth above my head. I am not claustrophobic or scared of the dark, but the thought of an entire mountain over my head freaks me out. So when a drop of water dripped down on me in the second tunnel I flipped my wig. Ted has captured a photo for posterity. Love it.
Photos of North Bend Rail Trail here.
After we biked around 10 miles roundtrip, we decided we still had time to visit the Blennerhassett Museum and Island.
Museum Pics are here
Island Pics are here
The island was lovely with deer and turkey and a horse drawn wagon ride. The only part that got my goat was that a house built by wealthy people was built on the island and then burned down in 1811. Why in 1988 did someone feel it necessary to rebuild this mansion on a floodprone, middle of the river island? It seems such a waste to highlight past wealth with new money, instead of using those funds to house the homeless that were being fed in the parking lot by the mobile soup kitchen as we returned to our car. Just sayin'.
Once we returned to the hotel, we decided against the ghost tour. We were so sore (and still are) from our bike rides that we didn't think a 2 mile walk would do anything for us. So we went to Olive Garden and overate. My husband indulged himself with some very sweet, very potent wine. When we got back to the room, he sat on the bed and fell asleep. Live jazz was playing in the courtyard (our room overlooked it) and a wedding was taking place. I opened the window to hear better and rested beside him. That was a really lovely experience.
Pics of a cemetery skyline that I saw several times and asked Ted to take pictures of.
While we have 2 cameras on our trip, I managed to take all the pictures on the camera that does not have a USB cord here. We are, however, having a great time. I taught Ted to play backgammon in the library of our hotel and soundly beat him. 3-0, poor guy.
Pictures will be posted on our return Sunday. We missed the entire presidential debate, but I have a feeling I didn't miss much. Tomorrow is full of bike rides, ghost tours, ferry rides, and lots more fun stuff.
Night all.
My carbon footprint was 17+. Can anyone give me a clear idea of how bad/good that is and how I can offset it if necessary? I'd love to be eco-friendly, but it muddles my mind.
I did buy reusable shopping bags though.
My husband and I are long overdue for some R & R. My mother has graciously offered to take care of our children this coming weekend and we are planning our escape. I personally plan to explore how much sleep a person can indulge in over a weekend, but I will have some leisure activities at hand in case the first plan fails. It looks like we are going here. I would like to be able to fit in a little of this and a little of that. The trail looks nice and it would fulfill my recent desire to ride a bike without the loss of life. I would also be interested in doing some of this, but not sure if the hubby would enjoy it. I will be taking lots and lots of pictures to share when I return. And a little teaser for you adventerous types.... my mother has convinced me to go up into a hot air ballon with her and my aunt for an hour long ride in the coming month. Once you stop laughing at the prospect of me aloft over sharp tree tops with nothing but a wicker basket, some hot air, and a little fabric holding me up, I expect you to hit your knees in earnest prayer for my safety and sanity.
:0)
The other day I was driving home from work behind a tractor trailer. As I passed it, I noticed it was one of those livestock trucks with the layers of vented stalls for animals. It was full of baby pigs. I wept openly and without abandon for those baby pigs. It was a beautiful, cool autumn day. The sun was shining. They were piled on each other sleeping. And I know they weren't on their way to an amusement park catering to baby pigs.
I will admit that although I claim to be unfazed that my oldest is in his last year of high school and about to commence on his own life without me, I think I am wrong. I think that while I know we will get along better when his life is completely his in its entirety, I have already been mourning the loss of my wee little boy. It has been years since he was small enough to carry, or cuddle, or hug without a struggle. My boy is a man. If I were abducted by aliens tonight, he would be able to carry on without me. He would survive. I am proud of that, I am sad for that, my heart breaks for that, my eyes leak over that. I certainly have two younger ones to continue all the nurturing on, but he is my baby. My first baby. The first child I held knowing it had grown in my garden. Thus, I will cry over pig trucks with no remorse. We will all know the real reason, but I will avoid it. Because I am not the first mother to have to let go, I will not be the last.
No Engelbert for me. Grandma decided to go to the beach with her sisters. But that makes me happy! She's eighty and still going strong..... happy B-day to my Mawmaw (tomorrow).
In other news, I was searching online for something completely unrelated and stumbled upon this man that rocks my socks!
If you have met me in real life, gotten past the stage where I am all deceptively shy, and then stuck around when you realized that I was batshit crazy (my new phrase I cannot stop saying but would love to replace), then you know about my quest to be the favorite. Favorite what, you might ask? Well, favorite anything at all would be my answer. I will brown nose my little puffy pink heart out to earn a little shiny star for my book. It all started with my cousin, Erin. She is ten years younger than me and her mother always called me her first child. So being the sensitive creature that I am, I rub it in every chance I get. And I convince her that I am our grandma's favorite too... that part doesn't take much. I named my daughter after my great-grandma and her middle name just happens to be Elizabeth (my grandma's favorite aunt). I didn't do it to score the points, but oh buddy it did anyway. So now, I generally like to be the favorite and have it declared aloud in public whenever and by whomever possible. It's great fun.
My grandma's birthday is next Wednesday. She will be 80. (She doesn't read this so I feel alright sharing that tidbit). Anyway, as I was driving home this evening I was given the truest, most decent gift in the quest for favorite one could ever receive. My grandma's favorite singer will be performing on October 1st in Ashland. If she is in town (she hasn't decided whether to take her annual trip to the beach this year), then I will accompany her to the 40th anniversary tour of Engelbert Humperdinck. That's right. There is no possible way I can be beaten now. Not only am I willing to get her there, I am willing to participate in the viewing of and alleged enjoyment of this performance. Did I mention this is THE Engelbert Humperdinck. I can't make this stuff up.
Remember that whole trip to Hershey and the stop to see the goats? Well, it seems I am ahead of the national curve as evidenced by CNN and Yahoo News running pieces (almost identical I might add) on the fainting goats. So go ahead, follow me. It will lead you nowhere, but feel free.
I heard her recently and think she sounds like Fiona Apple and Norah Jones. She is only 23 and didn't come into singing until she was 19 and was in a car accident that left her cognitively impaired. A doctor suggested she tried music and here she is. The sunglasses are a result of leftover sensitivity she has to light and sound from the accident, not to look cool.
Death for man who kidnapped, murdered Idaho boy
By REBECCA BOONE, Associated Press Writer1 hour, 50 minutes ago
A longtime sex offender was sentenced to death Wednesday for the 2005 kidnapping, torture and murder of a 9-year-old northern Idaho boy after federal jurors who watched video of some of the brutality deliberated just three hours.
The jurors' recommendation was binding on U.S. District Judge Edward Lodge, who thanked them, dismissed them and then sentenced Joseph Edward Duncan III.
Relatives of the victim, Dylan Groene, remained somber as the jury's decision was announced. Duncan murdered Dylan's mother, older brother and his mother's fiance to kidnap him and his younger sister, who was sexually abused along with her brother but survived.
"We're happy with the verdict, but it's a shame — this should have been limited to one death," said Steven Groene, the father of the children. "He should have had the courage and the guts to kill himself before killing anyone else."
Duncan showed no reaction other than smiling as the verdict was passed to the judge.
He took Dylan and the boy's then-8-year-old sister, Shasta, to a remote western Montana campsite where he raped, tortured and threatened them before shooting Dylan in the head and burning his body. Jurors viewed horrifying video Duncan made of him sexually abusing, torturing and hanging Dylan until the boy lost consciousness.
"This defendant is dangerous. He is a predator who takes pride in his work," prosecutor Traci Whelan said. "He earned this day. His actions ... call out for the death penalty."
Duncan acted as his own attorney but had offered no response to prosecutors' closing argument.
"I have no argument," he told the court.
With an eye toward kidnapping the two children, Duncan stalked their family. In 2005 he entered their Coeur d'Alene-area home and used a hammer to fatally bludgeon their 13-year-old brother, Slade Groene, his mother, Brenda Groene, and her fiance, Mark McKenzie.
Duncan was arrested and Shasta rescued weeks after the kidnappings when a waitress at a Denny's in Coeur d'Alene called police after recognizing the two as they ate.
Duncan pleaded guilty in December to 10 federal charges involving the kidnappings and the murder of Dylan. He pleaded guilty to the other three murders in state court, where he also could be sentenced to death.
After the verdict, the jurors were whisked away from the federal courthouse in two white vans so they could avoid the phalanx of media covering the hearing.
"The jury speaks the mind of the community," U.S. Attorney Tom Moss said. "By the verdict today, they have given voice to the victims."
In closing arguments, Whelan reminded the jury of Duncan's lifelong "pattern of violence," including a conviction for raping a boy at gunpoint in 1980. Duncan has told investigators he killed two half-sisters from Seattle in 1996, and he is charged with killing a young boy in Riverside County, Calif., in 1997.
Duncan may now be brought to Riverside County to stand trial in the death of Anthony Martinez.
Darlene Torres, Brenda Groene's mother, said she is glad the federal case is over.
"Justice has been served," Torres said. "It's been very painful."
She said that when she saw Duncan in court, "I seen nothing but an evil, empty, coldhearted shell."
It's hard to tell if the end of the federal case will offer any comfort to Shasta, her father said.
"I can't speak for Shasta, I can't get inside her head," Groene said. "Possibly now we'll have to be dragged through a court proceeding in California. If they go ahead with the prosecution, it would be such as waste of taxpayer money because he'll never spend a day in a California prison."
The heinousness of the evidence in Dylan's murder made it particularly difficult for the jurors to remain impartial as they deliberate, said Art Patterson, a jury consultant and senior vice president of the trial consulting firm DecisionQuest.
"Generally, for human beings, it's pretty hard to maintain impartiality when confronted with such horror," Patterson said.
"How could any juror not want to see this person removed from our list of living human beings? How could you live with yourself as a juror if there's any chance this human being could escape from jail and do something like this again?" Patterson said.
Today is the first day of school for my senior and my third grader. But it is also my baby's fourth birthday. It seems like her tiny little self just came into the world, but now she is so tall and grown up. One more year of tiny girlness before she enters the school world (I certainly hope the first day of school isn't on her birthday next year).
I LOVE YOU SWEET PETUNIA!
HERE IS THE LINK IN CASE THE SLIDESHOW ISN'T WORKING
We got a later start than I had planned for and didn't arrive at the tipis until nearly dusk. We spent a night in the wilderness and then traveled to the farm to see the goats. Unfortunately, they suffer from performance anxiety and we didn't come away with any fainting video. However, we do have these assorted photos of our journey up to now. Tomorrow, we are off to Hershey's Chocolate World and the amusement park!!! WOO HOOOOO!!
This dude is seriously jacked up. And not only is that dude seriously jacked up, but that moron who was going to bring her FOUR year old daughter to live with him needs to be sterilized or shot or beaten in the streets. These stories make me want to take a Brillo and Clorox shower, but unfortunately there are far too many examples of human depravity out there.
My husband is anxious to move beyond the fear that the impending strike had us under. He enjoys tinkering with cars and we both enjoy unusual things. So it was no surprise that he mentioned a new project, a 1972 MG Midget. Earlier this week, we all drove out to give it a look. Ted's memories of riding in a family friends Midget weren't tempered with the fact that he has grown considerably taller and (discreet clearing of throat) broader. Not only was he unable to steer without tightening his super buff six-pack abs, but his height and foot size made it impossible for him to hit just one pedal at a time. In a manual transmission, you can fairly assume that simultaneously applying the clutch, gas, AND brake is not a good idea. We left that car with it's current owner. But here is a glance of what could have been....
For eighteen years I have hung on to a thought that I don't like at all. I think today is the day that I will let that thought go.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED......
The following video contains footage of Daniel's toenail, click at your own risk...
Our household has been holding a deep breath for several months, waiting for the contract to expire and find out if we would have to live through a strike. When the deadline came and went, we were relieved but still nervous with no contract, only extended talks. Now we can exhale (tentatively). There is a contract proposal that I cannot fathom will be voted down and I have to say I am very pleased with. So back to reckless consumer spending on things like food, gas, and back to school clothes for the Hippos.
Daniel's big toenail finally fell off. He dropped a stone wheel on it earlier this summer and the entire nail turned black. The other day he casually hoisted his foot into my lap and showed my the wavy thin nail that sits in its place. There will be a photo slideshow for those who are interested. It will be optional for those who are disgusted.
Also in Daniel-land is a the acquisition of yet ANOTHER device relating to his favorite cartoon. Anyone familiar with his focused attention on this subject will appreciate that I am going to need donations of hard liquor immediately.
The time has come to get serious with Cory/Adam. We are in the senior year and focus needs to start on where he is considering studying next fall. Applications need to be filled out, considerations need to be made, reality is upon us. Eck.
And Aurelia, sweet Aurelia, was set free at our family reunion to play with little girl cousins and run with abandon all around the lodge. There were games of tag as she shrieked, "I'm gonna get ya!" or "You'll never catch me....!" There was no need to hold a child in my lap or keep one eye solely one that may swallow something or wander into the woods alone or eat dirt. They are all big enough to sort of tend to themselves in gatherings. I feel a little sad, but mostly relieved. Could that be my freedom on the horizon? Nah, just a mirage!
This past weekend I had the privilege of helping to move a family member. Since it took two trips to a distant location, I found myself in the cab of a 26 foot U-haul truck for the better part of Sunday with my parents. On our way back from the final trip, we stopped to eat at the Tamarack. Even on a good day, I don't think I am Tamarack material, but especially after I have been sweating like a whore in church I look a little out of place. For those of you who aren't in to know, this place is the artsy fartsy center that sells local wares from regional artists. They have a large cafeteria type food center that is all made by the Greenbrier. I ordered a cheeseburger (seemed safe enough for a high falutin' foodie like me). Let's just say that I will decline any future offers to eat at this establishment again. We finished up and headed out to the truck. Dad had to unlock the passenger side and I opened the door for Mom to climb in as Dad went around the front to his door. It occurred to me as Mom was buckling in that if there were a time to float an air biscuit it was outside the truck. Who says I don't have manners? About that time, Dad opened the driver's door and said "Did one of y'all fart?" Now I wasn't about to lie, so I was preparing to fess up when Mom piped up and said, " Philip, of course not, Heather just made a silly noise with her mouth. Gee Whiz." That did it. I couldn't breathe I was laughing so hard. When I finally pulled myself up into the cab, wheezing and crying with the laughter, Mom said, " WELL, any other time he just wouldn't have mentioned it." Perhaps you had to be there to appreciate the delicate comic timing that was involved, but I laughed all the way to the toll station and my sides still hurt today.
Aspergians can be great employees
Jul 29, 2008 @ 12:00 AM
The Herald-Dispatch
Asperger's syndrome causes more stress to the "Aspie" than it does to his or her co-workers.
The differences between Aspergians and neurotypicals, or people with brain functions typical of the majority of the population, can sometimes make for unnecessary conflict in the workplace. But with a little education and understanding, both sides can be happy and productive
With the recent explosion of information about autism/Asperger's syndrome, many busy employers are hearing bits of research and may be forming an incomplete picture in their minds of the sort of jobs that are best suited for someone suffering from a disorder on the "autism spectrum disorder." ASD includes a wide range of diagnosese including Asperger's syndrome, autism and pervasive developmental disorder. Autism is a brain development disorder that impairs social interaction and communication, and causes restricted and repetitive behavior, all starting before a child is 3 years old. Other disorders on the spectrum, such as Asperger's, are milder.
It has been said that if Asperger's syndrome did not exist, neither would the Internet, or computers for that matter. This poses the question "What did Aspergians do before the computer was invented?" The answer is nearly everything. They designed and built telescopes, steam engines, light bulbs, telephones and automobiles. They created works of art such as Mt. Rushmore and the Statue of Liberty. They created graceful buildings that we admire to this day.
A lot of the recent reports would make many folks think that people on the spectrum are only useful in narrow areas of machinery and mathematics. This is not so. The belief that all people with ASDs are unable to communicate well is completely false. Many people on the spectrum are authors, editors and speech writers. It is true that for many, small talk can be difficult, but an employer may be pleasantly surprised to discover that their new employee has done a great deal of reading on the subject of how to get along in the workplace with all sorts of people. A great many Aspergians are careful and diplomatic, preferring to avoid giving opinions on politics, race or religion. Knowing full well how incendiary these topics can be, many are loathe to discuss them at work.
The office cookie exchange or birthday party can be a hurdle. Many people on the spectrum have sensitivities to different foods, and with the addition of singing, games and carousing, they may feel overwhelmed.
It is common for neurotypicals to form cliques in the workplace, lunching together, carpooling and even visiting each other's homes. Many people on the spectrum understand the need that "NTs" have to do this, but prefer not to get emotionally involved with their co-workers.
Many "Aspies" are married with children to support and prefer to relax after work with their families. Any experienced manager can tell you that office friendships sometimes dissolve, leading rapidly to gossip and often sabotage of the co-worker's tasks. This may be entertaining for a few neurotypicals who see their employer as a sort of high school principal, but many Aspies can see the big picture: enough monkey business and soon there's no business.
People on the spectrum who grew up wanting to fit in have often studied etiquette. They are reserved about discussing their personal lives and are surprised sometimes by probing questions their co-workers may ask about an Aspie's spouse, children, or background. Often, they hesitate to answer because they are afraid of boring the co-worker. People on the spectrum often greatly enjoy quiet hobbies that NTs would find dull.
So, if you are in a position to hire someone, please don't assume that people with ASDs are only good at one narrow field. It is true that their brains are "wired differently," but if treated fairly without condescension, an employee on the spectrum can be a valuable and innovative asset to the workplace with a desire to do expected tasks in the most efficient, effective and cost-productive way possible.
Kathy Ferrell is an illustrator born in Huntington and still residing here. Her Asperger's syndrome became evident during her preschool years when she demonstrated her drawing skill, intense focus, recall and voice mimicry, among other symptoms. Her art work has been published in a wide variety of books and magazines, in both the U.S. and abroad.
and I can't because I don't know how to blog my audio file.
CRAPOLA!
UPDATE: SHIZZOLA! I think I have got it. I can't stop listening to this song. It makes my feet bounce and I laugh out loud. It's from a CD I borrowed from the library called "The Rough Guide to Native American Music".
We celebrated the kids birthdays today. It is so funny to see the difference in excitement levels between them. Aurelia is so animated and perky even if she doesn't have the slightest clue what the gift was. Daniel can receive the world's greatest gift or a lump of coal and the reaction is likely to be a polite, quiet thank you and a nod.
After putting the kids to bed, Ted and I watched Smokey and the Bandit. I dig that movie.
As I type, I listen to a CD of Native American Music. It makes my feet bounce.
Have a great weekend peeps.
Experiences this evening have made me thankful that my life didn't take so many of the paths available to a rural girl in WV. Please don't take offense if any of the following happens to be in your life.
I am thankful I didn't decide to marry just because I had a baby when I was sixteen. It would have ended badly. I am glad I finished school and stayed actively employed. I am glad I didn't seek as my highest goal to get a man and a trailer. I am glad I don't believe everything I read. I am thankful I can read. I am so grateful not to hold the deeply ingrained prejudices of generations before me. I am grateful for good dental care and the availability of personal hygiene products. I am grateful that the one man who dared to raise his hand to me in anger suffered appropriate repercussions and may still walk funny. I am glad I didn't entirely believe all the bad things mean people like to say to shy girls. I am so grateful not to be ashamed of having some intelligence.
That's about it. I am just glad to have more than some and less than others. I am happy, healthy, and safe thus far. Seems like a good thing.
Blasted YouTube videos, most of them were unavailable... after I posted them. Poor me, that just means I must spend the afternoon finding an alternate source of retro videos to release on you, my sweet readers. EVIL LAUGH (AHHHH HAAAA HAAAA HAAAA).......
Good gosh, that made me cry a little. That's what I get for surfing Youtube.
Test your brain age here.
1. Touch 'start'
2. Wait for the countdown to finish, i.e.: 3, 2, 1.
3. Memorize the number's position on the screen and their numerical order, then click the circle from the smallest number to the biggest number. This sequence will repeat ~ 10 times until the game ends.
4. At the end of game, the computer will tell you how old your brain is in Years
Jellyfilled and I have been doing this for a couple of weeks and I really like it. I have never sweat as much in my life, but I don't feel sore or tired after. I have more energy that I have for a long time. And the hour long class flies by.....
The week started off with a bang when I found a dead mouse under my desk at work. I'm not sure how it died or when, but I know I discovered its corpse around midday. While I removed the body myself, it did wig me out enough to make me eat my lunches in my car. No need to make its living friends think something yummy might be in the office. The day after the mouse met its untimely demise, there was a dead baby bird just outside the office door. Good thing I don't believe in signs.
If you are in my circle of real life friends and have noticed varying levels of radio silence on my end, I have been trying to spend more relaxed time with the children. I don't want to have a phone hanging off one ear, typing on the computer, and only giving them my irritated look.
Aurelia has a foreign friend at her preschool. I was asking her about him while she was in the bathtub last night and she said they play puzzles and "stuff". I asked her what he says to her, because he speaks a different language, and she said "Stupid." Knowing that is her current favorite word, I asked what happened when he said that. She replied, "Then dey smack 'im." Um, I kinda doubt it. She finally admitted she was teasing, but I don't think Miss Polly would be pleased at her slanderous nonsense!
Things that make me happy:
1. Aurelia says "lasterday" for yesterday.
2. Daniel still hugs and kisses me.
3. Cory is a manbeast, but he is respectful and kind.
4. I don't have to empty the garbage or sweep the parking lot anymore. Thanks Dad!
5. Daniel can sing "You Lie and Yo Breath Stank" without any coaching when Ted walks up.
6. Our babysitter performs tasks of yucky natures without mention or complaint. (Thanks Kathleen).
7. Wendy's has blueberry muffins.
8. My husband scrubbed my kitchen floor on his hands and knees. I got the very best one, didn't I?
9. My bedroom is clean and the dreaded ceiling fan has been banished to the hellfires.
10. Cookies were on sale. And I luv cookies!
I go along my daily life with people coming into constant contact with my children. My own belief is that most people are mostly good, all people are a little bad, and some people are all bad. But stories like this make my stomach cramp and I just want to lock myself in my house with my children forever.
A long, long time ago in a land far away Hardee's used to serve these humongous, delicious blueberry muffins that were filled with real blueberries and were the shiznit. But they somehow discovered that I liked them and immediately deleted them from the menu. So I have eaten the Jiffy mix muffins with their sad little pellets of blueberry flavored sugar for over a decade. SIGH....
BUT, now some Wendy's are serving breakfast and by golly there on the menu they have BLUEBERRY MUFFINS. They aren't as large as the old Hardee's ones, but they are still chock full of real blueberries and they taste good. No more butter biscuits with jelly, no more crappy sausage biscuits... it's me and the blueberry muffins from here on out. And if they take it off the menu, well something very bad is going to happen. YUP.
According to Cory/Adam, the speaker that normally addresses sex education at the 4h camp he was at this past week was not available. The replacement seemed (from Cory's interpretation) to advocate voracious sex having and noted that engaging in the activity for twenty minutes, three times a week would be the equivalent of running 7,000 miles per year. Now, understand, we are realists, not prudes, but I did have to reiterate our parental position (try not to before you are married) and the backup position (if you are gonna, then be respectful of yourself and your partner, and be safe). Lordy, help me.
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Given the speech that he is now on the brink of manhood and this being his senior year, that all that will come with extra freedoms AND responsibilities, I gave Cory the chore of deciding what activities he had heretofore been denied that he would like to have considered for the coming year. This is his list:
1. Hang out with my friends who can drive.... (since he will be eligible for his license at the beginning of the school year, we compromised that he will drive his car and be the responsible driver)
2. That he be allowed to stay up past 9pm.... (hmm, perhaps I should have revised that a little earlier, he is almost 17).
3. That I not force him to cut his hair. (I will have to think about that, he is kind of lacking in the hair washing arena... but maybe I can be persuaded.)
Since none of these requests involved anything illegal, I should take this opportunity to feel fortunate. OK, enough of that.
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Conversation in the bunkhouse around time for lights out, as relayed by Cory:
"What if a field of marijuana caught fire and the smoke rolled into the forests where the deer live and they got high from the smoke and then a hunter shot them and ate the meat? What would it tasted like?"
Daniel and Cory both have one camp under their belt, are currently in another, and Cory has one more in July. Aurelia has summer fun and their new babysitter started this week. Daniel thinks she's purdy. He has also sworn that he "isn't interested" in the Baby Shark song from camp this year (sorry, dude, but Jenny says otherwise.)
We have squirrels in our attic (not our mental attics, thank you) and Ted is humanely trapping them and setting them free before repairing the entrance they found. He has convinced Aurelia that the cage is a "chicken cage, for baby chickens of course." It's insanely hilarious to listen to her explain it.
The Princess Supremo also has her version of the lullaby she wants me to sing to her each night.
"Hush little baby, don't say a word, mama's gonna buy you a muffin-bird/punkin-bird, monkeyin-burd"
Over the weekend my dad had a birthday and celebrated Father's Day. My gift to him? A gallon of nutty coconut ice cream from Baskin Robbins. 'Cause that's how I roll!!
Hope everyone is having a great summer!! I know it's summer because the "baby crack" that is the pop-ice popsicles are flying off the shelves of my freezer.
Recently I have encountered some life changes. Branching out into the work force and employing a nanny have been strange and oddly freeing. I enjoy the solitude of being the sole employee in a small office and perhaps it could make me a little dizzy with power. EXCEPT... that this job carries the responsibility of a small amount of grounds maintenance. I knocked myself silly with a half full/half empty bag of garbage the first week I was here, but this morning was the real eye opener. It was clear that all six garbage cans along the shopping complex needed to be emptied and I set about the task. All six were crawling with maggots and I daresay that I have not regurgitated so much in my life. I sincerely doubt that all three of my pregnancies involved that kind of racking misery. I don't have an exceptionally weak stomach, but I wasn't prepared. It just never occurred to me. So if you are sitting at home, thinking to yourself, that Heather sure is getting above her station in life, I wholeheartedly must disagree. :0)
Today my parents came to town. There was a car show in the park so Ted, Aurelia, and I walked down with them. Along the way, I happened to be looking down as I was walking and made a horrifying discovery. There was a needle laying by the sidewalk. I am not sure what it's original purpose was, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it didn't end up on the street for anything legal. I had Ted pick it up (for fear that a child would step on it or pick it up). The sharp fell off immediately and he placed the cylinder part in the alley garbage.
These are the reasons I am nervous when the children want to play in the park. You just never know what went on there before you came along.
My bizarro son is at overnight camp this week. He'll only be seen by us for a single day before he goes to another next week. The pictures below are the sunburn he received after a day at my mom's pool last week. He had applied SPF 50 before going in, but we were outside for far too long and he was almost exclusively in the pool. I know that despite my frequent orders that he apply his Bug and Sun and that he MUST wear a shirt in the pool, he will return home a crisp bacon bit. Let us all pray that he doesn't develop sun poisoning, heat stroke, or skin cancer.
Bless his little heart.
I couldn't find Endangered Love featuring Barbara Manatee, so enjoy my other favorite. :0)
Fellow bloggers,
I need your help. If you know me outside of this blog, then I am talking to you. I have been offered an opportunity to work outside of the home. The only thing blocking my acceptance of that offer is the lack of child care. Aurelia is signed up for both sessions of the preschool summer fun and Cory will be home, but I don't want my teenager caring for his siblings. It's a recipe for disaster. So what I am shopping for is someone who may know someone who may be willing to work for me this summer. I am not asking my fellow mothers for this. That is nonsense. Ideally, I would like to hire a college student or VERY reliable and mature high school student who would be willing to keep my kids alive while I am not here. I love them alot and sort of care that they are intact when I get them back. So consider the feelers out there. Thank you, good people.
The last several days I have been filling in at a mini storage facility as the office manager. Some of the tasks that I have performed have made me wonder if I might wind up falling to my untimely demise with no one around to help me (i.e. climbing a ladder, unsavory mini storage persons carting off my carcass). But it didn't occur to me that taking out the garbage might do me in. There are several public trash cans that need to be emptied and the contents placed in the rear dumpster. And I wish I could say it was a gigantic bag that did it, but I was placing a smallish (15-20 gallon) white bag of trash that was about half full into the dumpster. I held the lid up with one arm (the dumpster is about my height) and swung the bag up with the other hand. I'll be doggone if that bag didn't fall straight down on my head and about brought me to my knees. I think there was a bottle of some sort in there. So if you see me and wonder why I have a gigantic goose egg, you'll know. :0)
TEAM for WV Children recognized Gayle Manchin yesterday evening. Not only is TEAM for WV Children the reason I can volunteer with CASA, but there is even a quote from fellow blogger and advocate for child abuse prevention, Wabi Sabi.
Today was the day of the long awaited (over eight months) visit with the rheumatologist. I arrived several minutes early for my afternoon appointment and was taken back to a room approximately an hour after my designated time. In the room, I waited for another thirty minutes while I perused an outdated women's magazine and read the charts on the walls. Outside the door, I could hear the staff playing with a remote fart machine. I was impressed.
When the doctor came in, we went down the same path most other doctors in his field have taken me down. It seems that I have several characteristics that make doctors wonder if I could have Marfan's Syndrome. But I don't have hyperflexible joints, a caved in chest, or the super wide wing span. I just have long fingers and I'm tall. So he measured me to be sure. Still, I'm just tall.
The overall thought at the end of the visit was this:
1) Secondary osteoarthritis as a result of joint damage from the childhood arthritis
2) X-rays and bloodwork to determine a baseline
3) calcium supplements (500mg 3x a day)
4) Motrin based prescriptions to start (there are 12 to try) for the pain
5) determing whether I have JIA, apparently something that occurs in 1 out of 900, 000 people, rather than Marfan's. The upside to determing that is that it is treatable and detectable from bloodwork.
So that is how today went. I go back in six weeks to review all the labwork. And like I told the doctor today, I am by no means the worst case he will see any time soon. I can remember the pain I had as a child when the arthritis would flare up and cause my skin to be hot and my joints to ache so badly I couldn't sit. This pain is annoying, it disrupts my sleep, it makes tasks harder, but it isn't debilitating. There is no whining in this house. At least not out loud. :0)
Today was the last day of preschool. And believe you me, I am counting the days until summer fun begins. Not the fun of summer, but the program at the preschool that is duly named Summer Fun. In that week, my oldest will be away at 4-h camp, the youngest boy will be at cub scout day camp, and the wee little girl child will be at summer fun. Oh happy day!
Because lately, I have found myself lacking in the patience department. While I don't hold a conventional job, I do juggle several things that include the kids, volunteer work that I find supremely rewarding, and finding time to aggravate my husband. A normal day will find me with a cell phone in one hand, the home phone in the other, typing on the computer keyboard with my toes, and giving visual commands with my eyes to any child unfortunate enough to pass through the breakfast nook.
This Friday, I get to attend my daughter's first music program and I am stoked! She has been singing her parts around the house and occasionally I will be included. For instance, sometimes I must be the naughty, mittenless kittens so that she can say "You naughty kittens, you lost your mittens, now you cain't have no PIIIE!" Fun stuff.
Later that morning I finally get to see the rheumatologist that I have had an appointment with for at least eight months. I have done research, written notes to myself on things to bring up, and basically tried to prepare for my brief visit. But as I told neighbor Jenny (sorry, too tired to link, she's over there --->) I am prepared to be told that I must suck it up and deal. Which really isn't all that bad. I mean, I'm not broken down, mostly. I will hold out a teeny bit of hope that he will tell me something that will be helpful though. Like how to reach my own feet when no one else is home to help. That would be great!
This is the speed of my internet connection right now. It is also the speed I would like to be operating at as summer approaches and lazy evenings on the porch with the kids beckon. I'll be back, I swear!
From my boys (please not that Daniel says I am good at watching TV and getting mad, while Cory says he appreciates all I do for him "even though we fight most of the time." Ahh, the cockels of my heart are all warm and fuzzy! At least Aurelia gave me a plastic cup full of silk flowers. :0)
