Unique Like Everyone Else

Big Daddy: He Can't Help What He Is

Big Daddy and I were out running errands the other afternoon.  We were feeling pressed for time with yet another evening meeting at the school (J-Girl's this time--Freshman Parent Orientation with focus on college planning and strategies to get 'em there).  We made a pit stop for gas and made an impromptu decision to just grab dinner from the adjacent Del Taco.  Divide and conquer:  while I attended the pump BD made the food run. 

I was hypnotized by the digital display, thinking about how I was simultaneously filling my tank while draining my bank account, when I was approached by a nice looking twenty-something, greeting me kindly, but obviously wanting something.  Could I spare a couple of bucks so he and his girlfriend could catch the bus?  Well, I never carry cash and told him I had nothing, glancing at the pump display to see if I could cut short and get out of there.  Shoot.  I almost forgot about Big Daddy.

Big Daddy is the sucker nice one in our relationship.  And since the stranded couple was still lingering, looking ready to challenge my claim of no cash (Really?  Even 50 cents would be a big help, ma'am.) I offered him up to them.

Me:  "Well, my husband is over there in the Del Taco if you want to check with him..."

Him:  "In the Del Taco?  Uh...I guess I could...How will I know who he is?"

Me:  "He's tall, dark, and handsome."

Him:  "Tall, dark, and handsome, huh?  Ha-ha. Ok..."

Me:  "Oh...and I think he's wearing  a blue shirt and brown shorts."

Big Daddy comes strolling out of Del Taco with a big grin on his face, shaking his head.  "You're such a dork," he says when he reaches me.  Beyond him the guy is waving two dollars at me and yelling, "Thank you!"

A few days later we were in Barnes and Nobel when a stranger gives me a great big grin and hello.  "Ha-ha," I say to BD, "he thinks I'm someone else!"  "No," Big Daddy replies. "I was just over by the magazines and he called me tall, dark, and handsome. So, yeah, he knows you...dork."

Hey, I just call 'em like I see 'em.  And as for being a dork?  Yeah, I can't help what I am either.

 

Coin a Phrase

I was lounging this past weekend, flipping through the latest issue of Real Simple magazine. 

First off, can I just point out how fashion forward I am with the bed linens that perfectly coordinate with the color trends featured on the magazine cover?  Lol!

 

Usually I breeze past the ads, but this one caught me off guard and by surprise:

 

Apparently J-Boy has been moonlighting as a marketing exec for Origins cosmetics! 

 

He came up with the term "Night-a-mins" when he was 7 years old to distinguish the Flinstone chewables variety from the medication he was taking before bed to help with some of the extreme behaviors he was demonstrating due to his then recent diagnosis of autism.  He is always so clever with word play! 

It was a very difficult decision to put J-Boy on medication.  At the time, he had just been diagnosed, and our family was in crisis.  Not because of the diagnosis; that news was actually a blessing.  The diagnosis gave us a a name for what we were dealing with, as well as much needed  direction in educating ourselves and seeking guidance in parenting this unique kid who totally defied our parenting instincts and the practices that had worked so beautifully with J-Girl.  We loved J-Boy and were afraid that any medication would squelch all the fun-loving personality he had, and leave us with an empty shell.  But, his emotional breakdowns kept us walking on eggshells, never knowing what might unleash the Tasmanian Devil that whirled through the house, injuring himself, his sister, me, and any number of material objects including mirrors, cameras, cutting boards, etc. 

The low dose medicine was to target the "frequency, intensity, and duration" of J-Boy's daily, Defcon 1 level, 2 hour tantrums.   And the plan made with his doctor was that this was a temporary solution that would allow J-Boy some inner peace and calm that would be a condusive state in which to learn some coping skills.  We decided we would try it, with baited breath and a skeptic eye, ready to pull the plug on the experiment if we did not like the effects we were seeing.  We were pleasantly surprised.  While his behaviors weren't eliminated, they were definitely de-escalated. 

And now, J-Boy no longer takes Night-a-mins.  He has matured and grown, and has gained so much poise and control.  I was so afraid of losing him behind a veil of drugs.  But we never did.  He was more lost to us when he was struggling, so miserable with emotions and feelings that were bigger than he was, bigger than any of the tools he had to work with.  We look upon the skills he's learned with the same pride as his learning to walk, or ride a bike.  It's like we took off the emotional training wheels and he's cruising along on his own, with the occasional look back smile that says, "Look, Mom!  No hands!" 

Ten Years Later

Remembrance at J-Girl's school

 

It is hard to believe that ten years have past since the 9/11 tragedy.  The news coverage this morning was solemn and beautiful.  The monuments dedicated to those who innocently and heroically lost their lives, are lovely and dignified.  I want to visit them someday.  I can't imagine having lived through any of that chaos. 

I didn't know anyone who died there.  I don't know anyone who knew anyone who was a victim.  I was tying my shoes when the second tower was hit, when it became startling clear that this was no accident.  I went running.  Running.  The world was literally crashing down on people and I went running.  I had a 3 mile course that I was doing back then.  And I ran it with ease that day.  Because my adrenaline was pulsing, and with each pound of my foot on the pavement I chanted a mantra for Peace. 

I laid a hand on each of the parked cars that I passed.  Strangers' cars.  And yet, my neighbors' cars, my countrymen's cars.  I felt the connectedness that is between all people.  I knew in my heart that we would heal as a nation, as a world.  I felt that the passage of time would bring a scarred toughness that allowed us to move forward, yet not let us forget.  

So, when I listened to names being read today, when I heard family members recounting their loss and how fresh and gaping their wounds still feel, I cried.  And I realize that it may take 100 years.  And I would like to see the world then.

Sometimes My Brilliance Astounds Me

We are only two weeks into the school year, and already I am bored with making lunches for the kids.  Especially J-Boy.  In addition to having a narrow palette of foods he finds acceptable or even tolerable, when you add the persnickety/perfectionist aspect of presentation, I am limited even further by what will travel well in his soft-sided lunchbox.  While we've come a LONG way, I can't tell you how many cereal bars I ate when he was under the age of 5 that were "ruined" because they broke in half before he was able to take the first bite.

J-Girl adopted a bento-box style lunch carrier, from Laptop Lunches, a couple years ago.  At first I found the constraints of the hard sided partitions and case to be annoying, but soon I learned to love it.  I can't talk J-Boy into using one, though.  Even with his love of things Japanese.  If they made a digital one, he would probably be into it, for the greatest thing to come out of Japan for him is video games.  If I could download meals to get him some HP ("Health Points" = strength, energy in video games), that would be awesome!

So, back to the boredom...I decided to spread peanut butter between graham cracker squares to change up the ol' PB&J.  When I thought about how they would fare in the lunchbox, though, I pictured a sticky mass of crumbs that would never get eaten.  My problem was that I didn't have an available plastic reusable container that the graham crackers could fit in.

What I DID have, however, was the box that the graham crackers came in! 

 

VICTORY!!

Fond Farewell

I saw something amazing yesterday morning when I went to pick up the farm box.  A bunch of Canada geese (not Canadian geese; stay tuned for a post on that) were lined up along the edge of the pond of a little waterfront community near our neighborhood.  The geese were stately and grand, perfectly aligned on the bank of the water.  It looked as if someone was on the bridge giving a speech, for they were attentive and had an air of purpose.  I was so bummed that I didn't have my camera with me.  It seemed such an unnatural scene, the order taken by these wild animals.  And yet, it was more natural, more by Nature than I yet realized.

 

 

I hurried back after collecting my organic veggies, remembering that I could use the camera on my phone.  Hoping I would not be too late, I half expected that I'd witnessed a freak phenomenon, that they would all be randomly scattered across the grass pecking out breakfast from the lawn.  I was so close, a block away, when I saw them fly overhead, a perfect V-formation heading south for the winter.  An awesome, awesome sight! 

 

Bon voyage, my feathered friends!  See you in the Spring!

 

Since I didn't have my camera and missed the opportunity to snap pictures with my phone, I decided to come home and make some art about my experience.  I am a water-fowl dork fan, and seeing this totally trumped my celebrity sighting of a favorite morning news show anchor the night before, and let me tell you, I was pretty giddy over that!  

 

 

In making this page, I just "went for it".  And started hating it--I nixed the idea of making a two-page 8x8 spread for my "pets" album, then started to regret that I was mixing two different styles of  painting on one layout.  But I continued on, and I'm glad I did.  Now that it's done, I can see tht the two styles relate to how I saw the two different scenes.  I saw the geese staging at the edge of the pond while at a stop light.  I had the luxury of taking in details.  When I saw them flying overhead, it was more a glimpse, a brief snapshot as I ducked forward to see them out of my front windshield as they passed, no time to study the elements of the scene.

 

I knew I wanted to stamp the images of the geese, to emphasize their sameness.  I found a picture of a Canada goose stamp on Google (the artist accredited only as "April"; thanks, April!) And printed out multiple copies that I stamped with a snowflake to add some stippled color.

 

Even with a bunch of them cut out,  they looked weird on the layout.  So, I glued one to some craft foam, cut around it, then glued that to a second piece of craft foam to create an actual stamp.  I applied paint, stamped, reapplied paint, stamped, etc. around the rim of the pond.

 

 

I stamped the houses with randomly cut shapes of craft foam.  The grass was dabbed on with scrunched up bubble wrap. 

So, I'm continuing to obsess about these big ol' birds, looking at migration maps on the internet, wondering where they are headed as Southern California already seems to be a fairly southerly wintering destination for them.  And, with it being in the high 90's temperature-wise, what triggered their internal clocks that it was time to go?  Perhaps the position of the sun in the sky?  Well, I sure am happy that I got to see them go, and I will sure welcome them back in the spring!

 

Edit:  It is September 15, and the birds are either back, never left, or perhaps
this is the 2nd Brigade.  *Sigh*  I still feel I witnessed something special,
if not actually "grand".  :)

Who's Your Santa?

I was folding laundry yesterday.  Christmas was a solid eight months ago, today being Sept. 2, right? 

 

 

Wait a minute -- I think these pajama pants are actually from the 2009 holiday season.  So that is a good year-and-a-half-plus that these babies have been making their way through the Flaherty Fluff 'n' Fold.

 

 

This is not a post about wearing Christmas clothes off season.  No, I really couldn't care less about what is worn when or with what.  White pants after Labor Day?  Go for it.  Flannel PJ's with a Santa motif in summer?  Knock yourself out. 

 

 

No,  this post is about unknowingly, yet perhaps, subliminally encouraging your now twelve (then ten!) year old kid not only to drink beer, but to "heart" beer and to share beer, and to drink beer in large quantities. 

 

        

 

Eighteen months have passed, and yet, I never noticed that the new jammies the Christmas Elf delivered to J-Boy one joyous Chistmas Eve had anything other than cute polar bears with eco-friendly messages mixed with rockin' guitars,  skulls in Santa hats, and the smarmy "Who's Your Santa?" designs.  I guess I...I mean, that Elf needs to be a more careful shopper now that my baby has outgrown the mainstays of the kids' department.  These PJ's are an Adult XS.

 

Hey, J-Boy!!  Be a good lad and go crack Mama open a cold one, will ya'?  Atta Boy!

 

Ha!  If you could only feel the discomfort he is emitting while indulging me with this pose!
I sure do love that kid! 

Now, seriously, give me that beer...

 

Desert Blooms

Technically, we live in a desert, though Big Daddy and I like to think of our environment as kind of a Chia Pet:  if you just add water, stuff will grow.  The brown hills around us will be lush with green growth after a bit of rain, which just as quickly withers away after the clouds clear and the sun has it's way again.

As we were driving through our neighborhood yesterday, I was excited to see a cactus garden in magnificent bloom. 

And I had to give a little love to the baby sunflower growing behind it.

And not disturb the very busy bee.

Excellent camouflage, but I found ya!

 

I hopped back in the car and thought about a song from the soundtrack for the movie, Juno.  I could not come up with the tune, but J-Girl helped me out.  Now I've been happily singing it for the past day and a half.  I get a little teary with some of the lyrics.

"...and the flower would be it's offering of love to the desert.  And the desert, so dry and lonely, that the critters all appreciate the effort."

Here's a YouTube video I found with the song.  It's called "Tree Hugger" by Antsy Pants and Kimya Dawson.  I think the message is that everybody wishes they could be a little different than who they are, but if you focus on being the best you you can be, others will notice and appreciate you for it.  Enjoy!

 

Autism Family Surf Camp

Growing up in Pacifica, CA and going to college in San Diego, surfing has long been on my "bucket" list.  Along with holding a koala, playing the piano, and speaking fluent Spanish.  Hmm.  Aside from marsupial-cuddling, everything on my list requires time, patience, and practice--if not some innate talent.  So, while I technically can cross surfing off my bucket list, it's now holding top honors on my list titled, Retirement Plan. 

I received an email a few weeks ago from a wonderful organization called Surfers Healing, announcing their first annual Autism Family Surf Camp.  J-Boy has been fortunate to surf at their Malibu day camp event the past two years.  It is an amazing family day at the beach, complete with lunch, treats, an opportunity for kids with autism to have some one-on-one time on a surfboard with incredibly kind and patient volunteer surfers, and to meet and relax with other families who share all the challenges and joys that come from having a loved one with autism.  So, an opportunity to spend three days surfing and camping with this group??  SIGN US UP!!!!

It was A-MAZ-ING!!

 

Create a slideshow

http://www.ucsd.edu/

This was a vacation that left me feeling so full.  My heart was full from meeting so many amazing families and volunteers.  My stomach was full from the many great meals that were deliciously prepared and provided.  My soul was full from being out in nature-the sun, sand, salt, the breeze and the sound of the waves-that feeds me; that feels like home.  And my brain and muscles were filled with such empowerment at having accomplished a physical feat and proving that, yes, old dogs CAN learn new tricks.

But all of that, ALL OF IT, would not have been possible without Izzy and Danielle Paskowitz, and their heartfelt vision to bring these gifts to autism families.  Families like theirs.  Families like ours. 

Thank you, thank you, thank you!  We are looking forward to next time!

 

 

Hat Trick

Big Daddy and I had been feeling...displaced. As in two things cannot occupy the same space at the same time. And if TWO things can't, well, certainly FOUR things can't. And when some of those things bring friends over, and then take over the living room with gaming or movie watching, or line themselves up along a couch, each with a laptop (is that weird to anyone else??) then Big Daddy and I find ourselves pushed outside or holed up in our room to watch the other TV.

But we LIKE being around our kids. And they seem to LIKE being around us. We are pleased that they do not hermit away in their rooms. So we decided we needed some extra seating downstairs. We looked long and hard at various sofas, tiny sectionals and chairs. Our space really isn't that big. We eventually discovered that patio furniture can be of smaller scale, is WAY less expensive than indoor furniture, and was just what we needed to solve our issue.

It is a perfect place to read or crochet, do a sudoku or chat.  Tandem-ness, if not togetherness, as this area is separated by a half-wall from the living room.  Here is the first little project I created while chillaxin' in our new nook:

Little hats!

Just kidding.  They are not hats.  But when Big Daddy asked me if they were hats, I had to stick them on something!  I was especially laughing at the R2D2 pez dispenser.  Have you seen The Family Guy's Star Wars Parodies?

I resisted for SOOOO long, and tried NOT to like that show, but I love it!

 

Ok, so they are not hats.  But I'm sure you noticed the lovely paint job in that shot of our room.  The half yellow/half white wall?  We had the house repiped uh, recently, *cough, cough* and haven't repainted yet.  Still, I had to spring into action when I saw this:

 

 Ta-daaaaaaa!!!

 

Protective head gear!  Now I can rest even easier!  :)

 

Any Given Saturday

Big Daddy and I have a Saturday morning routine:  We head out while the kids are still sleeping (J-Girl asked us to stop waking her to tell her where we are going, because "it's Saturday, so she knows."), we pick up our farm box of organic fruits and veggies, head to Starbucks for the ususal, and most times, stop into the adjacent donut shop, then head home with our haul, and do a crossword puzzle together.  Sometimes we may forego the donuts and come home for oatmeal which is our weekday staple.  Sometimes we may stop at a garage sale if we are on the hunt for something in particular or something catches our my eye as we pass.  But on any given Saturday, that is our routine.

This past Saturday I was inspired to scrap the routine.  Oh, not scrap it as in "not do it anymore", but scrap it as in make a scrapbook page about it.  As we made our way to all the stops, I collected a piece of ephemeral memorabilia at each place.  Playing with the pieces in little fits and spurts, I eventually commemorated our little slice of alone time:

 

 

Here's a closeup of the journaling, because that is my favorite part
of lurking around other scrapper's blogs. ;)

 

I was pretty proud of myself for thinking to frame us with the bag handle.

 

And I like the dimension of the fanned crossword puzzle, and my hand-sketched lettering.

And, for the record, we usually don't look that good when we head out on these errands.  It's more of a roll-out-of-bed-put-on-clothes-from-the-floor-brush-teeth-and-go kind of thing.  But is is OUR thing, and we look forward to it each and every week.