Archive | April, 2011

Getting it

by Mir on April 29, 2011 in Aspi(e)rations, Offspring: ecstasy and agony

So remember back when I said we’d finally landed a new therapist for Monkey, but we’d have to wait a while to see her? We finally saw her. I can tell she’s going to be very good with him; there is such a difference, sitting down with someone who works with Aspies all the time, versus someone less well versed in “kids like him.”

“Monkey, why do you think you’re here?” she asked him, after some of the initial pleasantries were out of the way.

“Because my mom brought me here,” he answered, ever the literalist.

She laughed. “Well yes, okay, but why do you think your mom brought you here?”

Monkey pretended to think about this. “Maybe she didn’t have anything else to do?” It’s hard to get mad at him when he deflects, because it’s a skill he developed relatively late. If you appreciate the mental gymnastics required for a kid who believes in One Truth to dance around the edges of an answer—and I do—you just can’t get mad at him for it. But after some prodding, he stared at his lap and his voice dropped as he said, “Because I’m bad.” (more…)

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Laying in supplies

by Mir on April 28, 2011 in It's not a regret, it's an "experience", Offspring: ecstasy and agony

You may have heard about a little storm that blew across the country yesterday…? We’ve had a few tornado scares since I moved to Georgia, but this was the first time that our local weather guy was basically spinning around and screaming “DANGER WILL ROBINSON! DANGER!!”

It’s times like these when I kind of miss having a basement.

Oh, sure. We have a “safe interior room” in our house—it’s underneath the staircase, through the laundry closet and behind the washer and dryer. (Have you tried the Turkish Delight back there? Delish!) It is precisely big enough to hold the four of us and Licorice, assuming that we all really like each other and don’t mind being stacked up like cordwood. It is also just the right size to hold the big bag of dog food and other pantry overflow items, so Otto took everything OUT of that space yesterday to make sure we’d have a place to seek shelter if necessary. Now our kitchen is too cluttered to accommodate people, but whatever. Safety first!

The storm wasn’t slated to arrive until after dark, though. So naturally, we went strawberry picking, first. (more…)

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Apparently my tongue felt left out

by Mir on April 27, 2011 in Health is overrated, It's not a regret, it's an "experience"

When I last left my dentist’s office, it was in a state of semi-hysteria over having just been informed that I needed a $2,000 bite splint that my insurance (you know, that thing you pay for the pleasure of being told everything is ineligible for coverage?) wouldn’t pay even a little bit towards. I came home and had a small tantrum and then vowed to cure myself of TMJ the old-fashioned way—I would simply will it to improve.

It actually worked, if by “it” you mean “that whole ‘willing’ thing, plus changing my diet some and doing nighttime relaxation exercises.” I went from being unable to chew on the affected side to where I am now, which is hardly any pain to speak of at all. I mean, TMJ is typically cyclical, but let’s just all agree that my giving up chewing gum and learning to practice deep breathing is the real reason I got better.

And because I was no longer in pain, I totally forgot about it. Until I got a phone call reminding me that I had my regularly-scheduled dental cleaning this week. (more…)

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Reputations

by Mir on April 26, 2011 in It's not a regret, it's an "experience"

It’s a funny thing, about reputations. I always insisted, as a kid/teen/young adult that I didn’t care what anyone thought about me. And that was total crap, of course; I did care, desperately. I care less now than I used to, but probably more than I will confess to most of the time. Doesn’t everyone want to be well-thought-of, more or less liked? I’m not going to sit around and cry about it if someone gets the wrong idea about me, but you know what I mean.

I am fond of telling the kids, “It doesn’t matter what other people think, it matters who you are.” I believe that. But it’s not entirely true; sometimes it DOES matter what other people think. And lots of times, it FEELS like it matters (whether it does or not).

Once upon a time, I was young and cerebral and not particularly interested in sex, but my reputation ended up suffering, anyway. Come on over to Off Our Chests today to read about my brief stint as something I wasn’t… and how I ended up being okay with it.

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Easter Day, 2011

by Mir on April 25, 2011 in Haven't been hit by lightning yet!, What do I do all day?

6:00 a.m. Wake up. Look at clock. Remember it’s Sunday. Go back to sleep.
7:30 a.m. Wake up when Otto gets up. Go back to sleep.
8:30 a.m. Hear Otto making coffee. Get up.
8:35 a.m. COOOOOOOFFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
8:45 a.m. Put turkey breast in crock pot.
8:50 a.m. Field Chickadee’s inquisition; she is certainly not eating any of that GROSS ANIMAL in the crock for dinner, so what is she having? Is that cranberry sauce on the turkey? Did I save her any? Because she is NOT EATING CRANBERRY SAUCE THAT TOUCHED TURKEY, MOM.
8:55 a.m. I give up my sanguine replies about how I have unfailingly accommodated her choice to avoid meat for the last two and a half years and instead suggest that with just a little bit of work, she could be in full-blown eating disorder status and should let me know if I can slice her some celery to gnaw on.
9:00 a.m. Monkey—who has been vibrating with excitement for the last hour—asks if maybe I think they should start, you know, looking for something? Maybe? Just in case there’s something around?
9:01 a.m. I do my best to look contrite and say, “Oh my gosh, you guys, I totally forgot to put your baskets out last night! I guess you can take a look, anyway, but… I’m sorry.” (more…)

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Excellence addendum

by Mir on April 22, 2011 in Offspring: ecstasy and agony

“Friends will come and go. Your family is forever. You only get one brother, and you only get one sister. This is it.” I do a small mental-finger-crossing whenever I speak these words to my children, because of course their father could yet remarry and bring more siblings into their lives, but with each passing year it seems less likely, and I don’t own a crystal ball, anyway, so I feel okay about asserting the finality of their circumstances.

They fight. All kids do, of course. I don’t think they fight any more than “average” siblings (whatever those are), but it’s possible I fret about it more than I should. I know what they don’t, which is that they need each other even more than other kids. Monkey needs an ally in his sister because his forays into the world are sometimes harder than they ought to be, and as I keep telling Chickadee, we owe it to him to always make sure home is a place of safety and love. And Chickadee needs her brother more than she admits, because–although she’s starting to spread her wings—there is a hard little knot of uncertainty deep between her shoulder blades that only the worship of her little brother can soften.

When they work together, there is nothing they can’t handle. (more…)

Comments { 32 }

Be excellent to one another

by Mir on April 21, 2011 in It's not a regret, it's an "experience", Job? Huh?

I’m reading recaps of Mom 2.0 all over the place, this week. It sort of makes me wish I could do one of those deep and profound sorts of rundowns, the kind where I tell you all about how I was inspired and enchanted and finally met this or that person and they were astonishingly lovely and whatever. I mean, that sort of thing does happen, for me, but somehow I come home and put my hands on the keyboard and tell you a story about how I fell down, instead.

Le sigh.

The truth is that I the anxiety I normally feel about heading into a conference situation is topped only by the concern that once I get home, I will be perceived as name-dropping or otherwise insufferable if I talk about it in any way other than to mock myself over something I did there. I am good at mocking. I am not so good at “Yay, I like you and you like me! Hooray for us!” Or maybe I feel like saying it out loud would jinx it.

Hi, yes, I’m 12. Please don’t beat me up in the locker room after gym. (more…)

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Fortune follies

by Mir on April 20, 2011 in It's not a regret, it's an "experience"

As part of birthdaypalooza, Chickadee was allowed to choose any restaurant for dinner out, on Monday. We don’t eat out all that often, and we almost never go out to eat during the week, so this was an auspicious occasion, indeed.

Her debate with herself was arguably the most entertaining part of the evening. Should we go to the Mexican place she likes? No, Otto and I had had Mexican the night before. (No amount of assuring her that if that’s what she wanted, we would happily eat it again would convince her it was a good choice.) The vegetarian restaurant? Possibly closed on Mondays, and also quite possibly not worth Monkey’s whining. (Monkey would’ve been fine there, but the IDEA of it was kind of freaking him out.) The diner? Last time what she got there wasn’t very good, so maybe not.

Too many choices! So much agony! But finally she remembered that she really enjoyed the Big Buffet Place, so we packed up and headed over there for an appropriately American stuff-your-face adventure. (more…)

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Now that she’s a grown-up, and all

by Mir on April 19, 2011 in Offspring: ecstasy and agony

Yesterday I was super-awesome and let my daughter skip school to celebrate her birthday!

Yesterday I was also a stone-cold bitch and made my daughter spend half her birthday at the doctor’s. Um. Oops!

So, no, we still don’t know what’s going on with her skin, though at least we didn’t have to see the horrifying Dr. BadHair, again, but instead saw one of the nice doctors who actually listens and explains things and has ideas. More on that another day, but we’re headed to yet another specialist. Fun.

After we finally escaped, I took her out to lunch to a soup/salad place called “Lettuce Souprise You,” which is notable only in that it provided endless entertainment for our meal. (“Sooooouprise, there’s worms in your salad!” “Soooouuuuuprise, it’s not really lettuce!” etc.) When we got up to the cashier to pay, the woman at the register asked Chickie how old she is. And I immediately answered, “She’s an adult.” I paid and we sat down.

Chickadee was grinning ear to ear. “You said I’m an adult!” I explained that for purposes of PAYING she was an adult, but the damage was done. She’s going to be insufferable, now. Heh.

So I decided to capture her wisdom at 13 quickly, before she really is an adult. I hope you’ll come over to Off Our Chests today and read about what she’s taught me.

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Lucky 13, in a milestone way

by Mir on April 18, 2011 in Offspring: ecstasy and agony, Woohoo!

Monkey claims that 13 is his lucky number, in large part, because it’s mine. He still thinks I’m cool; he still wants to like what I like and do as I do.

You, on the other hand, suffer under no such delusions. If I say it’s black, you are all but legally obligated to say that it’s white. If I dance to a song, you roll your eyes and make a mental note of the song’s now inherent uncoolness. If I remind you to thank me for something, you deadpan, “Thank you so much, Mom, you’re are quite simply the very greatest,” and don’t even crack a smile until I start laughing.

But you also curl up with me on the couch to watch television; plunk yourself down in my lap as if you were still a preschooler instead of just a few inches shorter than I am; demand I join you in jazz hands or link arms and skip with you; and rest your head on my shoulder and catch your breath when you’re trying not to cry. Because I am yours and you are mine, and today you are a teenager, even though you’re still my baby. (more…)

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