WE’RE ALL ON SOME SPECTRUM

Yesterday, on the way from picking up the kids from their schools, I saw something odd. As I turned, I saw a young man sitting on the sidewalk, obviously not well. The left turn I was making is the site of frequent collisions and bad accidents, and my first thought was he was a pedestrian who had been hit. He was sitting with his knees up to his chest, and his shoes were off. They were askew in the road, and I was unable to avoid one with my tires unless I wanted to chance going into oncoming traffic near a sharp curve. As I cringed while I thumped over his one shoe I could not avoid, I saw a van or SUV--I didn’t notice and I also kind of classify them as the same in my head anyway because, to most intents and purposes SUVs are only what people who want to feel like they don’t drive a minivan [but who need a minivan] choose—about 50-75 feet up with its hazards on. I decided that I’d pull into the parking lot adjacent to the spot where the young man was still sitting and make sure he didn’t need any help, such as a call to 911.

“Sir, are you alright?” I called. He looked up at me briefly, then put his head down and away from me. Hmmm, I thought. He didn’t appear badly injured, and certainly not as maimed as as one would be to cause their shoes to be flung off his feet. I realized he’d thrown his shoes into the road. Hmmm.

My children were asking me what was going on, what was I doing, and I replied, “I just want to make sure no one needs help. We’ll be going in a moment. Nothing’s wrong with me, us, or the car.”

I tried once more to ask the man, who could have been anywhere from 19 – early 30s, if he was okay, from inside my locked car with the window down. He didn’t respond at all and kept his gaze away from me. He appeared physically typical, no signs of Down Syndrome or other recognizable disability. But, he didn’t look at me. Hmmm. I began to formulate a well-educated hunch as to what might be going on. My kids, who usually don’t stop talking ever, no matter what, were silent as church mice, fascinated, probably. A little scared, maybe. They’re used to their weird mom doing this kind of thing, though.

As this was happening, the front door of the minivan/SUV up ahead opened and a woman came out, walking in our direction. I watched her and noticed she and the man sitting definitely resembled each other. As she approached, she stepped into the road to kick his shoes towards him in a weary way. “Ma’am, is this your son?” She looked over at me, and replied he was her son. “Is he hurt?” She shook her head no.

I thought for a moment, but only a beat, and said, “Is he learning disabled?” She nodded. I glanced at him, still there, head down, and decided to say it. “Is your son autistic?”  She met my eyes, and I could see the weight of the world on her, a woman clearly in at least middle age, as she said, yes he is autistic.

I went on to ask if she needed help, meaning it more in the immediate sense as it pertained to her son on the side of the road, but her answer broke my heart. “Oh, I need all kinds of help, and I don’t get it. We have an appointment at Duke next week. Maybe that will help. He’s okay right now, just, probably ‘shamed that you see him like this. See, he is mad at me because I took away his tea that he wouldn’t stop drinking because I was worried he’d have to go to the bathroom too much, and he just got out of the car on me.” I smiled at her and said for her to not worry about me or anyone else that doesn’t matter and to just go tend to her son, and wished her much luck, because, really, I didn’t know what else to say or have the wherewithal to help her or her family in any meaningful way, then I backed out of the space and took my kids on our way. I explained to them what was happening, and they understood pretty well, to varying degrees depending on their ages.

I knew I could have been making a big mistake, or insulting her and her son with my questions, but I also had some reasons for asking. I have dear friends whose family deals with autism. Their eldest son, J, may be the one with the symptoms and who has to learn to live in this confusing/baffling world, but, truly, their whole family is affected to its core. They’re “lucky” enough to be able to devote the time and resources to give that child all the therapies and support possible, but it is, like any disability, only improvable to a certain extent. And, I am ecstatic to report that, in the past 6 or so years since beginning to diagnose J, he has progressed so well. The little boy that I felt guilty if I absolutely needed to talk to—because I could see the distress it caused him—now comes up to me and initiates conversations. Sure, they’re weird as hell, and I admit, I am terrified the entire time that I will mess up and not know when his joking about, say, monkeys in the tree outside his bedroom will all of a sudden not be joking and I will accidentally upset him when he switches to literal, or because I simply don’t know ‘the script’ of this conversation and how it goes (because most of what he says, he expects a very precise response and you mess up… then he might meltdown, and who knows how long that could last or what event that could even cause to stop in its tracks)—but I am in it to win it and there for the duration when he does talk to me. Because, for all his difficulties in understanding the world around him and the weird people in it who smile when they’re really sad or say sarcastic things that don’t make any sense, he is also clearly very smart, and deserves to be treated as such. Heck, even if he were slow, he deserves to be treated well.

So, back to my possibly intrusive question. I can’t tell you how many times my friend, J’s mom, has had to explain what’s up, usually in response to some form of, “What the hell is wrong with your kid? Why won’t he behave/leave my kid alone/give my kid space?” or something like that because, hey, stuff happens, and all us moms know if your child is going to act out, well, it’ll be in a public arena. A child who’s sensitive to stimuli or has less impulse control only does that more often. I know she’s, sadly, used to having to explain to people, but I also know it pains her. No amount of philosophical awareness that it’s not her/their fault makes it un-painful when, yet again, they’re in public and she feels that sting of humiliation. Surely, on some level, J feels it, too. It can’t help him when he’s already confused and tantrum-ing.

So, I ask. I’d far rather risk insulting someone who does have a typical child than force someone to feel that if I can help it. And anyway, you find me a completely typical child without any weird peccadilloes and I will eat my shoe. We all have ‘em. But, if we’re not autistic, we generally know how to cope, manage, blend in and cover them up when needed. To me, that means we’re also fully capable of empathy, and not being that a-hole who tsk-tsks at the parents who are probably doing far more than we must on any given day, who not only have the garden-variety worries and difficulties we all have, but also must turn on a dime at any moment for any reason (and often for one that’s completely unknowable) because one of the people they cherish most on earth can’t cope and function as well as everyone else expects. The degree of vigilance necessary… just thinking about it exhausts me. I can’t solve these people’s issues for them, but I can do my damndest to not aggravate them.

This post is darker and more reflective than I generally am, I know, but it’s a topic that means a lot to me. I dedicate this to D, T, Z, and most of all J. You all are the best of the best, and you all only deserve the best.

UGH

when is daylight savings, originally uploaded by hanapbuhay.

How can ONE HOUR make such a difference? I have lost the past week to this one measly hour, I tell you. Just can't seem to get my go... going. Every morning I have dragged my sorry butt out of bed at about 7, which is much later than I would normally (I like to be up by about 6:30 so I can make coffee and think about breakfast and lunch). I'm pretty amazed I didn't wimp out and get Bunny to buy a school lunch any day this week. I have even tried my best to catch a nap a couple of times (to no avail)... this week just was weird.

Oh well, next week will be better.

Money See, Monkey Have Anger Mgmt Issues

Today I went to Fry's for some RAM. Wheeeeeee! I can tell you there is almost noplace I like to take the kids less than Fry's Electronics. Carter, my Mr. Gadget actually thought it was a toystore. For him, maybe someday it will be. :)

Anyway, the RAM was bad, and I had to go back a second time (joy) for an exchange.

I was pulling into the parking lot and turned into a lane and then was getting into a space when I heard a horn honk. Being that I was not doing anything, and the entryway to the lot was not far off, I didn't pay it any mind. As I finished pulling into the spot, someone laid on the horn and then pulled behind me gesturing and mouthing obviously angry words.

It was a couple of people who look, well, exactly like you'd expect a couple losing their shit over a freaking parking space to look. Since I had not realized they had claimed their space from at least across the lot, I figured I'd wave them to back off, and just let them have the stupid space. I mean, come on, it's a parking lot space. Well, I think in those ugly peoples' ugly little world people rarely treat them nicely, so they assumed I was brushing them off. I can see the woman mouth, "Bitch!" and I kid you not, the man actually got out of the minivan they were in, as if he's I don't know what he thought he was going to do by way of showing me what's what.

Not being one to get down the the level of those despicable creatures, I again pantomimed that I simply wanted them to BACK UP so they could have the space. They did, and I found a spot approximately 30 feet away... WHICH WAS CLOSER TO THE DOOR ANYWAY.

The sad part was, since I ended up parking in spot closer to the door than the HIGHLY CONTROVERSIAL SPOT WORTH FIGHTIN' FOR, I was in the return line right by the door and could see this sorry crew enter the store--with their two small children. Nice. Way to pay forward the excellent trouble solving skills, guys.

You know who I can't stand even a little bit?

GWYNETH PALTROW.

Just sayin'.

FYI, will be unable to get photos and possibly more for a while, as Paul steals my laptop for something. Here's hoping he doesn't reconfigure my hard drive or something...

EDIT: I'm back. Paul had decided late yesterday (after the Adderall wore off, LOL) that he would completely change the operating system for his computer, and long story short, you need to be 100% sure you know which hard drive you are configuring and/or deleting. Cuz if you're not, maybe you will delete your C drive instead of the external hard drive you *thought* you were changing. Thank heavens I have two places I store photos on the web, cuz, I think all my photos/videos have been vaporized. *sigh* But anyway, we're moving on. Who needs baby photos, right? *sob* Anyway, this is why, if you're inattentive by nature, Adderall can be a good thing. And late night decisions about 'blowing up' a computer (apparently that is the technical term when you make a massive change) are not prudent...

*blink blink!*

Yesterday I was pretty pooped by the time I sat down to watch TV with Paul. Bunny had the day off from school and we went to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, which is a haul, and then a lot of walking. I have a nasty head-migrating-to-chest cold that the boys also have (Bunny? Had it last week.). And I was FINALLY flipping through the September issue of Real Simple, which came 3 weeks ago.

So I was not fully paying attention, since what was on was not interesting to me (something about the Civil War--Paul's choice, of course!). But I perked up when I *thought* I heard some CRAZY nonsense on a commercial. The scene was a man and a woman, and what I caught was a man saying how natural HIGH FRUCTOSE CORN SYRUP was and then a website (sweetsurprise.com) to check out for more.

Kristianna: Whaaaaaaa?
Paul: Sorry, what?
K: Was that commercial for corn syrup?
P: Yeah, weird, huh?!?
K: Weird? Weird? That sh*t is terrible for you, because of how it metabolizes in the body! Sugar sucks, but damn, corn syrup is awful comparatively! How can they have commercials FOR that stuff?
P: Well, they used to have cigarette commercials...
K: Urging people to choose products that could put people at risk for diabetes and liver stress to name but two is not much better than pushing cancer sticks.

Blah blah blah....

The point is!! Um... that is WHACK. I stopped buying Yoplait because of HFCS. Ditto for many things I liked until my eyes spied the label--and I was SUPER bummed by the Yoplait, I tell you.

I guess the good thing is people must be paying attention and choosing products without HFCS, or why else would they have ads?

Oh, and the ads were oversimplified and condescending as hell. As if people who are anti HFCS have no clue why. Were I the person in the commercial being asked why they don't want something with HFCS, I'd have had an answer!

57 Channels and There's Nothing On

Way back in a time known as the 1980s it was hard. See, there was MTV, but I didn't have it. I actually looked forward to piano lessons more for the hour of cable before my lesson than the lesson itself... Oooh, Downtown Julie Brown, you rocked with your dumb British accent and worse than average fashion!

At home, we had 4 channels until FOX, then we had a whopping 5. Which was a huge improvement, since it opened up more than 25% more choices, since PBS was not the one I chose to watch on my own. When I went to college, we had cable. And I learned that you can have endless options and still not find anything good to watch.

As a mom, I marvel at times at the choices my kids have for TV *just* for them. There are a good 12 channels devoted to kiddie programs, not counting that PBS seems to have educations childrens' shows on about 10 hours each day (and we have 5 PBS stations broadcasting at the same time, plus their 'extra channels'). Endless choices, right?

So why is it that on a Saturday morning my kids can't seem to find ONE thing that is actually being aired? Okay, then there's On Demand. My word, with that entered into the equation I estimate there are fifty gabillion options. And to its credit, generally there is something they like. But On Demand is like an onion--you have to navigate down through layers and layers to see what a certain channel has to offer and if you come up lacking, then you have to try another layer, and another. And another.

I hate On Demand. I hate using it! I wish there was just 'kid crap' as a menu to go through, like there is for what's being broadcast 'live', so I could use that time spent trying to find something my picky angels find acceptable to do something else, like sit and stare at a wall. But I also hate using DVDs, so it's probably me.

I think I *kind of* miss having 4 channels. Naaah. Not really.

This heat is cramping my style, yo.

I was going to start something new this week. The couch to 5 K challenge, not to really run a 5 K (I don't think) but to just get something new that I can do with 2 small kids in tow. It seems like the only way I can exercise is if I act like a fool playing in the pool with the kids or push the stroller. Playing for an hour in the pool is fun, but really it's not exactly melting these pounds off me.

So, I decided to start the couch 2 5K. It looks totally doable. But not in 100+ heat. So I'm holed up in the living room (the meat locker, as we call it, since it's the only cold room in the house and the blast of cool air when you enter is A LOT like entering a walk in fridge).

I want fall! But we have a good 6-8 weeks of summer here still. Booooooooo.
Oh well, there is the pool at least.

You can take the girl away from the farm, but you can't make her into a 'responsible' enough mother. ;)

I was reading about the phenomenon of 'helicopter parents' in a SFGate article a little while back, and it kind of turned my stomach.

The article is about the anxiety parents have when their children go to summer camp, about how hard it is for parents to let go, and how *they're* the ones shedding tears over the reality of being separated from their children for an extended--yet FINITE--period of time. Apparently camps are having to put resources into preparing parents for the separation and how to cope. Okay, okay, yes, parents love their kids. I have three and yes, I love them dearly. I'd jump in front of a bus for them, and all that--really.

But I dunno. I grew up with a lot of freedom. A lot of boredom. And the ability to suffer some gnarly injuries if I chose to do something unwise. There are some things parents routinely did 'back in the day' which are considered taboo now, that I agree with. Leaving kids in the car to go grocery shopping (especially at dusk, which I remember scaring me) -- yeah, that is a no-no. Letting a 8 yr old baby sit a 4 yr old for a couple of hours alone? Oh yeah, let's skip that. But standing inches away from your child on the playground lest they look like they might stumble? Nah, no thanks. I'm there, watching from maybe even 10 yards away at times. A couple-few weeks ago I was at the park with Gretchen and her kids and we were talking about how much more relaxed one gets with each child, which is true, and she asked me if I'd have let Bun climb a certain structure at the same age as Carter, who was climbing it. Yeah, I would have. But not with a juice box in her hand, as Carter had, haha!

But that's not the point. The point is parents now are totally whackadoo in a lot of ways. Or at least the ones about which people want to write articles! I'm sure there are plenty of normal parents who stand close and let a child realize touching something a wee bit too hot hurts (hint: generally they don't really touch, but notice the heat because they have nerves in their skin), who let a smaller child try something hard on the playground. But the parents in this article, who the writer makes appear to be the rule nowadays, well, I would not want them to be my parents!

These parents sound not so much *into* their kids for the kids, but as some seriously selfish, egotistical extension of self. There is a quote where a mom actually sounds like her feelings are hurt because when her child wrote home from camp, the letters were not about missing home and her parents, but about all the fun she was having doing new things. Call me callous. But my heart did not go out to this mom in her time of needing her child to be utterly miserable missing her. Mommy needs to get over herself and be happy her child is happy!

Way to go California -- way to avoid relevance!

Genius! California was part of Super Tuesday this year in the primaries. Generally CA is an early June primary. Probably 75% of the time, this relegates our most populous, delegate laden state basically irrelevant as many races are all but OVER by then--move on to the convention and the real election, right? So, they moved the primary.

Well! Imagine if we were not part of Super Tuesday. Imagine if hundreds of delegates were still in the offing. Barack and Hillary would be salivating over the Golden State. They'd be ALL OVER the place, talking about issues we can give a crap about, and doing just about anything they could to garner the votes. Instead, ironically, we're still pretty irrelevant, and the candidates simply use our state as a veritable ATM--come, grab cash and go to the states where they need votes. Hillary won't be slugging back a whiskey with any of our salty folk, will she? Or even having lattes with the Silicon Valleyites.

Oh well -- oopsie! ;) At least our Governor is one bad mofo, heh.

saturday::scanned photo

Just a few this week... I do love spending time looking at these photos for the first time in probably 5-7 years (or more, for the college ones). Sometimes, when you're sleep deprived, and stressed, it's good to touch base and remember the little things along the way and *try* to see the big picture. I become so myopic, so task oriented in the hub-bub of day to day life, which largely is also so free of noteworthiness--it all blurs. Wake up early, nurse baby, give 2 yr old sippy cup, make coffee, continue to nurse, drink coffee, make breakfast, clean up, help 5 yr old with homework and getting ready for school, take her and 2 other to drop off, run an errand or go straight home and have lunch, nurse more, boys hopefully take naps so they'll not be cranky in the evening, wake them, back to school for pickup, go to park, to an errand, or home, make snacks, nurse baby, maybe go outside for a while, make dinner, lots of little bits of laundry and tidying (never enough to be totally clean, but to stave off bad messiness), get kids to eat dinner, clean up after dinner, nurse baby, get kids a bath some nights, get them to bed every night, nurse baby. Sure there are the days we go on excursions, and the summer is a time for lots of those, but what I wrote above is pretty much a constant.

I genuinely enjoy it (most of the time once I have my coffee), mundane as it sounds all written out -- there are those moments when I get to color with Carter all alone, or play with him with his trains, or craft with Bunny, or hang out talking with her before bedtime (our only real alone time together, save the baby on my lap). There are the times when I look at the serenity on Cole's face while he sleeps, or the great big grins and chuckles he does and my heart nearly bursts. There are the times when I see the mirth in Carter's eyes, or the flash of gusto Bunny can have, and they amaze me, and make the relentless work all worth it. I love how Carter is finally speaking more, and telling me things, and I can't wait until he can really talk to us, just like Bunny does (old joke about wanting kids to be quiet once they talk notwithstanding). I see how *quickly* Cole is growing, and I am trying so hard to remember all the way that this is my last baby. That yes, I am very tired, but I will never have the gift of being able to wake to nurse a baby at 5 a.m. More than our older 2 children, I have been doing as much as I possibly can in caring for Cole all myself, I suppose because I am getting better at it along the way, but also because I want to do it. It's fleeting and while I will certainly change a diaper again, perhaps for a baby niece or nephew, eventually I will even miss stinky diapers. Parenting is relentless! Usually while I am going one thing for someone, I'm asked to do 2-4 more things before I finish what I am doing.

So, by the end of the day, I am tired. And cranky. I should repeat that -- CRANKY. I almost never get to shower two days in a row. I forget to eat, even though I am giving someone else food 2 times or more any given hour, then I eat crappy stuff because I am way too hungry once I remember to eat and I don't care what I eat by that point. I drink too much coffee. It's hard. But it's fleeting. The saying may be trite, but it is true: The days, and sometimes seconds creep by so slowly, but the years FLY. Like everyone I sometimes need very badly to vent, but just like someone who vents about their coworker doesn't actually hate them, or their job, I am not hating my life when I complain about something... I think it's hard for my husband to understand that one. It's doubly hard, since if I vent to him, he takes it personally. So I try to vent more to my mom friends. They get it. They know. It's not hatred of my life. It's letting off steam. It's that yes, it's okay to not like that I have not gone to the bathroom alone for 6 years. It's acceptable to lose your mind a little when someone has been sinking "eee-eye-eee-eye-oh" in an endless loop for 15 minutes straight! I'm human, just like everyone else. I say things I didn't think out before I uttered them. I become frustrated. Again, this is normal. Maybe very normal when you have a 6 year old, a 2 year old, and a 3 month old. And when the only times you have gone anywhere alone in the past 6+ months have been to the grocery store--and that, a total of less than once a month.

But still, it is fleeting. I do try to remember that. With mixed results, depending on the day and how everyone else is doing that day. I'm not master of my mood--I wish I could wake in a good mood and stay that way, but it's a dynamic organism, a family of 5 is. If someone else is having a terrible day, it sometimes spreads. Some good days I'm impervious and can make light of a child in a snit, and that makes them happier in return. Some days I am just matter of fact and doing my job. Some days I am a walking, talking nightmare of crankiness. I'm getting better at accepting that, and telling Bunny and Carter--and Paul-- that.

But anyway, the photo? The beach where Paul tried to propose to me. It was SO cold that evening we ended up going to the car to watch the sunset, and he proposed in there. It was still lovely anyway. We went out to dinner at L'escargot in Carmel afterwards, and that was divine, too.

Yeah? Well me neither kid.

That is what I wanted to say last night.

What probably anyone who already loses sleep to a 3.5 month old who wakes on and off from 4-6 a.m. would want to say when their two year old is utterly, inexplicably awake at 1:09 a.m and keeps saying "I can't sleep!". And wants to watch Noggin. WTF?? Oh, and is very upset he can't find the hat to his Mr. Potato Head. Um, maybe because it is DARK and not in the same room as you anyway? And because that parent has her 3.5 month old sleeping peacefully not too many feet away, she tries quietly to convince the 2 yr old to be quiet and go to sleep. Wanna snuggle with Mama? Nooooo. No! No! No-no-no-nooooooooooo! Shhhhhh.... Want Noggin! Sit on sofa! No, no TV. It's bedtime. It's dark out! Noooooo! Sit sofa! You come! (deep sigh, gather all patience) The TV has gone to bed, too. We're all sleepy. It's night. Go go sleep. (some back and forth; finally 2 yr old is in bed, but then begins to howl; yay, 3.5 month old is awake, too! It's a unhappy awake boychild party!) Says Mama, Control yourself and be quiet. You do not have to go to sleep, but you do have to stay still and be quiet. (Much whimpering. Quiet whimpering. 2 yr old falls asleep after 20 mins.)

Fast forward: It's 6:15 a.m. Baby wakes and refuses to go back to sleep. Mother drags her ass out of bed, makes MUCH coffee. 2 yr old? Sleeps until 8:45. UGH!

Been a long time...

Time marched on, tirelessly. Too bad I can't say the same for myself.

Bunny started preschool the week before last, and me being me, of course I had to scramble to do all kinds of stuff last minute to get all the Ts dotted and Is crossed. Oh shoot, that's backwards--which is how I ended up doing everything for those couple of weeks. ;)

Paul got his man-vacation at Burning Man and my father came out to visit. It was a nice visit, and great to have backup so I could go to the bathroom or shower. Plus it's nice for hte kids to spend more than a day or two with him.

Recently my 'no fair' button has been stuck down. Where is the equivocation?? When is MY vacation alone where I don't take care of anyone? Na-ga-da. Na-ga-happen. Paul wants us to vacation at the beach, but it's still not the same. I am going to a MNO tomorrow with some playgroup moms, but it's not the same. If I were to take a vacation as Paul did, it'd be doubly expensive, because who takes care of the kids whilst I'm gone? Does Paul take off time and use his vacation for staying home with kids? Pay a sitter? Ugh. Times like this, having two incomes would be nice. But noooo, I have to want to raise my kids full time. Shit.

I didn't say my inner brat was rational. She wants cake and lots of it, and for each piece to be made custom order at her whimsy. She needs a time out for longer than a trip to Target alone to buy baby wipes and loiter looking at the nailpolishes because at least she didn't bring any kids with her and it may be her one time all week to be alone.

Actually, she needs to go to the gym more and use their free childcare. She needs more zen and less *grrrr*.