I Am Not Saying My Feet Stink But...

So, I have these MaryJanes that I wear every day to work. 99.9999999% of the time, without socks. I'm an 80s girl we like MaryJanes.

The husband says - omg put odor eaters in your shoes THEY STINK.

So I oblige. I've worn them before. I know how this works. I cut them to size, slip them in and wear them a couple of days - and then - they start balling up inside my shoe after I've had them on a couple of hours.

This is driving me nuts.

I go to look at them this morning and realize, they shrank.

They fit inside my shoe perfectly when I put them in and now they are visibly SMALLER than when I put them in.

My powerful foot stink has beaten Odor Eaters.

I'm not entire sure I should be proud of this.

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I Am Not Saying My Feet Stink But...

So, I have these MaryJanes that I wear every day to work. 99.9999999% of the time, without socks. I'm an 80s girl we like MaryJanes.

The husband says - omg put odor eaters in your shoes THEY STINK.

So I oblige. I've worn them before. I know how this works. I cut them to size, slip them in and wear them a couple of days - and then - they start balling up inside my shoe after I've had them on a couple of hours.

This is driving me nuts.

I go to look at them this morning and realize, they shrank.

They fit inside my shoe perfectly when I put them in and now they are visibly SMALLER than when I put them in.

My powerful foot stink has beaten Odor Eaters.

I'm not entire sure I should be proud of this.

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Our New Christian Rock Album Cover

It's been a while since we made a new one. It's harder, because according to Eric Cartman's rules you are supposed to have three people in the art but, what can I say, it's a family of four kids now.

The girl didn't quite get the idea of being all serious business though.

Clearly she doesn't know Eric Cartman's rules.

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Our New Christian Rock Album Cover

It's been a while since we made a new one. It's harder, because according to Eric Cartman's rules you are supposed to have three people in the art but, what can I say, it's a family of four kids now.

The girl didn't quite get the idea of being all serious business though.

Clearly she doesn't know Eric Cartman's rules.

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You Can Do Anything

See that girl in the pink helmet? That's one of my favorite people on the planet circa 1987.

It's a short list of people, despite how much I rave about folk. The actual list of my FAVORITE people on the planet is short. It's carved by time, and pain, and heartache, and love. It's carved in stone that won't erode.

I met Eileen when I moved to the city, she was my first friend in a new place. She spent the night with me, and I instantly loved her. She was funny. She was smart. She was bolder than me and I felt safe with her, but also brave because of her. Eileen was FEARSOME. Once, in high school she got into a horrible fight with Simon (everyone from my high school just nodded cuz they know this story) during lunch, and those of us who had spectated had to return to class late from lunch which was pretty much punishable by death.

We walked into the classroom behind the shield of Eileen's rage and fury, and the teacher who might normally have smeared our hearts on the blackboard simply nodded as we sat down quietly. You didn't fuck with Eileen.

She was also generous, trustworthy and overwhemingly caring. Once, I was late for a speech meet (yeah I was on the speech team, you didn't get it yet - I'm a GEEK), and I straggled onto the school bus at 6:30 in my PJs with a bag of makeup,clothes and toiletries to get ready on the way. I leaned back on the bus seat, closed my eyes and Eileen painstakingly did my makeup that my sleepy self couldn't muster the will. She did my hair too, and when I opened my eyes, every guy on the bus was watching us.

"That's the hottest thing I've ever seen," one of them remarked.

I guess they didn't get out much.

Well it's 20 odd years later.

Our lives are different. I've got 4 kids and am married and I've got autistic kids and my life is chaos.

Eileen has MS.

Her life is hell.

Except, it's not.

Do you see this beautiful, vibrant woman? She can't get out of bed a lot of days. She gets restricted to a wheelchair a lot it seems from her face book. All the time? I don't think so.

She lives on the other side of the country from me and this is what I've learned, after delving back into her life via facebook:

She's my touchstone. Not the sort that you that you use to give thanks that your shit isn't that bad. That, in my opinion, is sort of a bullshit way to belittle other people's struggles. Phew! Glad that doesn't happen to ME! It's all about me!

No, instead, I look at Eileen's pics and her posts, and I see my friend. I see a person who finds JOY in the things of this world that are given her. It's not that she doesn't have bad days, and cry and rage and be angry that her life went differently than she ever thought it would. But instead, she finds her joy.

She finds things to be thankful for. She got a new shower chair - and facebooked her joy at how luxurious it was going to be. At first I cried for her - but then, I realized how self serving those tears were. Because - she was for real. That shower chair was going to be a huge luxury. A comfy place to safely sit while she slathered on delicious smells, to make her soul calm and her aching muscles soothed.

It started making me think. What's my shower chair? What's my thing, that to me, is a deep sigh of relief, of joy, of pleasure? Is it clean sheets? Is it the smell of shampoo on my children's hair?

Eileen might have physical struggles, but from where I sit, she has perfected the soul.

I love you Eileen. And I miss you every day.

Plus, you took the coolest picture I ever saw.

PS I stole all these pics off her FACEBOOK. She just has to love me anyway.

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You Can Do Anything

See that girl in the pink helmet? That's one of my favorite people on the planet circa 1987.

It's a short list of people, despite how much I rave about folk. The actual list of my FAVORITE people on the planet is short. It's carved by time, and pain, and heartache, and love. It's carved in stone that won't erode.

I met Eileen when I moved to the city, she was my first friend in a new place. She spent the night with me, and I instantly loved her. She was funny. She was smart. She was bolder than me and I felt safe with her, but also brave because of her. Eileen was FEARSOME. Once, in high school she got into a horrible fight with Simon (everyone from my high school just nodded cuz they know this story) during lunch, and those of us who had spectated had to return to class late from lunch which was pretty much punishable by death.

We walked into the classroom behind the shield of Eileen's rage and fury, and the teacher who might normally have smeared our hearts on the blackboard simply nodded as we sat down quietly. You didn't fuck with Eileen.

She was also generous, trustworthy and overwhemingly caring. Once, I was late for a speech meet (yeah I was on the speech team, you didn't get it yet - I'm a GEEK), and I straggled onto the school bus at 6:30 in my PJs with a bag of makeup,clothes and toiletries to get ready on the way. I leaned back on the bus seat, closed my eyes and Eileen painstakingly did my makeup that my sleepy self couldn't muster the will. She did my hair too, and when I opened my eyes, every guy on the bus was watching us.

"That's the hottest thing I've ever seen," one of them remarked.

I guess they didn't get out much.

Well it's 20 odd years later.

Our lives are different. I've got 4 kids and am married and I've got autistic kids and my life is chaos.

Eileen has MS.

Her life is hell.

Except, it's not.

Do you see this beautiful, vibrant woman? She can't get out of bed a lot of days. She gets restricted to a wheelchair a lot it seems from her face book. All the time? I don't think so.

She lives on the other side of the country from me and this is what I've learned, after delving back into her life via facebook:

She's my touchstone. Not the sort that you that you use to give thanks that your shit isn't that bad. That, in my opinion, is sort of a bullshit way to belittle other people's struggles. Phew! Glad that doesn't happen to ME! It's all about me!

No, instead, I look at Eileen's pics and her posts, and I see my friend. I see a person who finds JOY in the things of this world that are given her. It's not that she doesn't have bad days, and cry and rage and be angry that her life went differently than she ever thought it would. But instead, she finds her joy.

She finds things to be thankful for. She got a new shower chair - and facebooked her joy at how luxurious it was going to be. At first I cried for her - but then, I realized how self serving those tears were. Because - she was for real. That shower chair was going to be a huge luxury. A comfy place to safely sit while she slathered on delicious smells, to make her soul calm and her aching muscles soothed.

It started making me think. What's my shower chair? What's my thing, that to me, is a deep sigh of relief, of joy, of pleasure? Is it clean sheets? Is it the smell of shampoo on my children's hair?

Eileen might have physical struggles, but from where I sit, she has perfected the soul.

I love you Eileen. And I miss you every day.

Plus, you took the coolest picture I ever saw.

PS I stole all these pics off her FACEBOOK. She just has to love me anyway.

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Aspergers? I Wish We Had Aspergers...

Ok that's a wild statement and also untrue.

I don't wish we had Asperger's Syndrome around here.

It gets old though, as increasingly it seems that every time I tell someone my sons are severely autistic someone will pull some Asperger's person out of their ass and compare them to my sons.

Them:"Oh my friend's cousin's son has Asperbergers and he has a hard time making friends."

Me:"Really? Cuz my twins are seven and don't talk and wear diapers. Oh and they don't understand the concept of friends. So yes, I can see that it's exactly the same. Your friend's cousin's son should hang out with us."

It's really never the actually people with Asperger's or immediate family who are afflicted, who pull statements like that out. It's the people who see Aspererger's on TV and think that is what Autism IS.

Asperger's might be autism but autism is not Asperger's.

I'm ranty. It's because I'm tired and hot. It's also because I just sat next to these people who eyeballed the twins a couple of weeks ago with disgust like we are bad parents. I didn't pull out the autism card on them. I just let it go. Judge away.

But back to my point. It's this. They call Autism and it's many many many manifestations "The Spectrum". Ever wonder why?

I'm here to explain. I'm feeling helpful.

It's because autism isn't ONE thing. It's not like Strep which can be defined and looked at under a microscope (ok that's kind of untrue they are finding some genetic markers but that's a different subject). Autism is simply, a whole bunch of various kinds of developmental delay all lumped together.

At one end of the rainbow - you've got those "classic" autism kids you remember from days of yore. Staring at the wall, not communicating, rocking whatever. They LOOK fine but they are NOT. That's the worst case. We're not that bad. /me knocks on wood.

At the other end - are the "High Functioning" autistics - of which the Asperger Folks are part. They talk. They have relationships. Many go to "regular" schools but have social challenges. But developmentally - they're like astronauts compared to my boys.

I have a 15 month old baby girl. I am watching her quest for language, her thirst for it, out pace theirs. Within the next year she'll be talking. Hell within the next six months she'll talk more than they do. She already TRIES to communicate more than they do.

Media is partly to blame. Cuz kids who say "OPEN THE MOUTH" over and over for two hours after having been told to do so at dinner are not as TV appealing as say, the dude from American Idol. But, I'm here to tell you.....

some of us, would give anything, if all it was, was Asperger's.

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Aspergers? I Wish We Had Aspergers...

Ok that's a wild statement and also untrue.

I don't wish we had Asperger's Syndrome around here.

It gets old though, as increasingly it seems that every time I tell someone my sons are severely autistic someone will pull some Asperger's person out of their ass and compare them to my sons.

Them:"Oh my friend's cousin's son has Asperbergers and he has a hard time making friends."

Me:"Really? Cuz my twins are seven and don't talk and wear diapers. Oh and they don't understand the concept of friends. So yes, I can see that it's exactly the same. Your friend's cousin's son should hang out with us."

It's really never the actually people with Asperger's or immediate family who are afflicted, who pull statements like that out. It's the people who see Aspererger's on TV and think that is what Autism IS.

Asperger's might be autism but autism is not Asperger's.

I'm ranty. It's because I'm tired and hot. It's also because I just sat next to these people who eyeballed the twins a couple of weeks ago with disgust like we are bad parents. I didn't pull out the autism card on them. I just let it go. Judge away.

But back to my point. It's this. They call Autism and it's many many many manifestations "The Spectrum". Ever wonder why?

I'm here to explain. I'm feeling helpful.

It's because autism isn't ONE thing. It's not like Strep which can be defined and looked at under a microscope (ok that's kind of untrue they are finding some genetic markers but that's a different subject). Autism is simply, a whole bunch of various kinds of developmental delay all lumped together.

At one end of the rainbow - you've got those "classic" autism kids you remember from days of yore. Staring at the wall, not communicating, rocking whatever. They LOOK fine but they are NOT. That's the worst case. We're not that bad. /me knocks on wood.

At the other end - are the "High Functioning" autistics - of which the Asperger Folks are part. They talk. They have relationships. Many go to "regular" schools but have social challenges. But developmentally - they're like astronauts compared to my boys.

I have a 15 month old baby girl. I am watching her quest for language, her thirst for it, out pace theirs. Within the next year she'll be talking. Hell within the next six months she'll talk more than they do. She already TRIES to communicate more than they do.

Media is partly to blame. Cuz kids who say "OPEN THE MOUTH" over and over for two hours after having been told to do so at dinner are not as TV appealing as say, the dude from American Idol. But, I'm here to tell you.....

some of us, would give anything, if all it was, was Asperger's.

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3 Years Later

We celebrated 3 years in our house with a family swim in our pool the other night.

We didn't know what the hell we were doing. We bought a house. I didn't have a job. He didn't have a job. We had two special needs kids. But we signed on the dotted line. Because we believed we'd figure it out.

There was no little girl nor one on the horizon.

As we swam under the looming Georgia pines of our forest, I couldn't really help but think, this really IS our house. This is the one we were supposed to have.

I like it here, despite myself.

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3 Years Later

We celebrated 3 years in our house with a family swim in our pool the other night.

We didn't know what the hell we were doing. We bought a house. I didn't have a job. He didn't have a job. We had two special needs kids. But we signed on the dotted line. Because we believed we'd figure it out.

There was no little girl nor one on the horizon.

As we swam under the looming Georgia pines of our forest, I couldn't really help but think, this really IS our house. This is the one we were supposed to have.

I like it here, despite myself.

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