it 'twas, it really 'twas...

'twas the night before solstice

and all through the house

not a lesbian was stirring

or even remodeling her house.

flannel stockings were hung

by the wood stove with care,

in hopes that ellen soon would be there.

the rescue dogs were nestled all snug in their beds,

while visions of homemade dog biscuits danced in their heads.

and kathy in her kerchief

and other kathi in her cap

had just settled down

for a long winters nap.

when out on the lawn there arose such a clatter

the kathies sprang from their bed

to see what was the matter.

away to the window they flew like a flash

tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

when what to their wondering eyes did appear?

some ladies in vests

drinking wine and dark beer.

suddenly from the crowd appeared 

an angel aglow

it was ellen degeneres 

wearing mukluks in the snow.

More rapid than eagles the lesbians came,

ellen whistled and shouted and called them by name;

"now kathy and kathi, and deb and colleen

on shirley, dianna, butch, and hakim"

to the top of the porch! to the top of the stair

come in from the cold, it's cozy in there.

The candles they lit

the wine they kept drinking

the food was potluck

gelled mullets atwinkling

they sang a few songs

jumped over the fire

they each knew they shared

a saphhic desire

Ellen stepped forth

and raised up her glass

"Happy Solstice to all!  I am drunk off my ass..."

well now, that does sound super neat!

holiday lunacy is in full swing 'round these parts.  bizarre emails pouring in regularly with odd requests, questions, ideas, and statements. 

the woman who bore me (p-dawg) is all about forcing "neat new traditions" down our throats.  she believes that if she can just set up the perfect ritual for each and every occasion that everyone will be happy and no one will misbehave.  she's always wrong, of course, but this doesn't stop her from trying.  she is the queen of beating a dead horse.  lucky me.  the following is an excerpt from todays email:

Also, I thought a neat tradition would be for me to read either the story of Baby Jesus or the Night Before Christmas to the kids to wind them down before they leave.  Let me know your thoughts on this.  Rebecca, I don't know if you ever talk about Baby Jesus with your girls.

...because i am satan worshipping godless lesbian who dances around fire and casts spells.  clearly.  note that there's an implied question, but not actually a real one.  it's like she just wondered out loud.  and p.s. good luck getting 5 squirrelly kids to sit still and listen to a story on christmas eve night.  that sounds like a blast.  my kids have been begging to have their werido grandma read from the bible after pumping them full of sugar.  i'm sure it will become a time honored priceless kodak moment that all of the ladies at the garden club will mistake for genuine family merriment.  so that's a relief.

wake me when it's over please...

just fyi...

i headed down to my local drop off station for the toys for tots drive today and was saddened when they refused my donation.  i was shocked to learn that my new unwrapped gifts for the children were not up to par according to the marines on duty.  apparently it's not considered in vogue these days to give kids lady schick razors, a carton of cigs, a tub of crisco, and a 12 pack of tube socks from costco.  who knew.  

hopefully my story will save you an unnecessary trip to this ungrateful charity.  god bless.

what to choose...what to choose...

sadly the following list is NOT A JOKE.  it is the actual unaltered email i received from my fathers wife.  i didn't feel i should hoard the laughter i got from this just for myself...happy holidays.

Greetings Folks: 

 

I'm responding to some of your requests for "ideas."   I think you'll find them all pretty practical.  For those who have not sent us your "wish lists," I would appreciate them as soon as possible.    Thank you very much!

 

·         Rubbermaid snap on easy find lid containers in various sizes.  Scott (my dad) complains "bitterly" about our current containers and finding the correct lid.  BLACK lids only. 

·         Placemats for our round kitchen table.  Need to be easy to launder or wipe off.  Maybe the slightly rounded style; but not necessary

·         JC Penneys Gift Card

·         Scott needs underwear (we hardly ever get a chance to shop).  He likes the extra heavy v-neck t-shirts (size L in Strafford brand) and size M briefs (she's talking about my dad here!)

·         Jammies or Nightshirt/gown style for Syl (probably size small)

·         Lounge pants & top for Scott (probably size large)

·         Barnes & Noble Gift Card

·         Movie Gift Card

·         Two hours of closet cleaning/organization assistance by anyone

·         Two hours of "spring cleaning" assistance in the store- vacuuming and dusting.  Does not need to wait until spring

·         Frozen meals

·         Small bottles of water (pod size)

·         Small bottles of  Fanta orange pop

·         Sunday morning breakfast

·         Refills for Airwick Freshmatic air fresheners (large & small size)

·         Microsoft wireless mouse x 1 for store

·         Swingline battery operated stapler for store

·         Store supplies (paper towels, paper plates, paper bowls, toilet paper)

·         Hand towels  (white, blue, yellow)  that have a loop/hook to hang on a hook. 

·         Plastic storage bin(s) with wheels

·         Schwan's Ice Cream Gift Certificate

·         Columbia Crest Merlot, Shiraz, or Chardonnay Wine

·         Casserole dish holder for round, oval, and rectangular casserole dishes

·         LARGE frying pan with lid

·         Black & Decker Adjustable Wrench for Scott (we saw an ad on TV. lately and he thought it looked good)

·         Glasses (probably clear) that have a very low small stem 10-12 oz size.  It would be nice if there was a matching style in about a 4-6 ounce size.

·         Swingline electric (BATTERY Operated) stapler for store

·         Small personal battery operated calculator for store--something to throw in a desk drawer

·         Note pads for the store (anyone's giveaways work just fine for notes and scratch paper)

·         Nice smelling liquid hand soap for home and store. 

keeping my eye on the prize...

now that i have sufficiently vented about my holiday stress i will share the things i look forward to and enjoy about this unique time of the year.

-our family holiday card. i love making it. it's really the one time a year when the inside of my head materializes into something visual to share with everyone i know and love or like. this years is all done and ready to be mailed. i can't wait to send it out!!

-the display on the 8th floor of macy's in downtown minneapolis. i have been to it every year of my life with the exception of a few that i was out of the country for. i love it. i especially love getting a gingerbread cookie afterwards, even though they are not hot and freshly made the way they were when i was a kid.

-winter solstice. this is when we exchange our family gifts to each other, and we have some sort of gathering or celebration with friends we love. we give our girls each a few dollars and take them to ARC to shop for gifts for us, their parents. what they come up with is awesomely hideous and hilarious every year. vhs tapes of obscure movies, plastic jewelry, feather dusters, the sky's the limit.


-tucking my girls into bed on christmas eve night. their excitement, utter joy, and anticipation radiates off of them.

-christmas day. we have claimed this day just for our "four family" (as g. says) every year. the girls get up insanely early to check their loot. we hang out in our pj's all day and watch movies and i make a nice warm meal of every one's favorite comfort foods. we don't answer the phone and we don't go anywhere, it's pure goodness.

so i've got all of that going for me, which is nice. and for the rest, i've got wine.

goddamn holidays

thanksgiving hasn't even happened yet and my holiday stress is upon me. this more than unpleasant feeling can only be likened to the feeling i imagine santa gets when an obese american child plops down on his lap at an overcrowded mall on a saturday afternoon. first comes the dread of what you see approaching, than the realization that you are powerless to stop it from happening, and finally the acceptance that it is going to hurt and alcohol is the only thing that's going to get you through.

this is the holidays with my family. not my chosen family of course, but the others. the ones that hang like an albatross around my neck. my parents divorced about 12 years ago or so. i was an adult by then, unfortunately they were not. they squabble and pout about whose house who is going to spend what time at for the holidays. "well if you are here for 4 hours, than must go there for 4 hours too." i can feel my ulcer churning.

you often hear the phrase "the true spirit of christmas" around this time of the year. what the hell does that mean? can someone please clue me in? because all i can see are ipods, credit card debt, weight gain, and the aforementioned alcohol. not to mention my favorite of all holiday games, "who will have a blow out this year" also known as, "family feud- the holiday edition". who will it be? ma and pa? i don't think so, to obvious. bro and sis? possibly. ma and me? well, that's a given. dad and everyone? duh. evil stepwhore and the gay dentist? fingers crossed! the anticipation is killing me! seriously, i think it might actually be killing me.

last year we fled this isle of misfit toys and vacationed in NYC. it was a glorious reprieve from the madness. the realization that my reprieve is long gone is finally setting in. with the economy crashing around us we will be spending our holidays in a balmy little place i call hell. the airfare is cheap, but the hidden fees are a bitch.

some of you might call me a scrooge. you'd be wrong, but you might be thinking it. obviously you didn't grow up in a family like mine, lucky you. count your blessings and put on your sequined holiday sweater. stop reading this blog and go to Jc-fucking-penney's to get your family holiday card photo taken. go! do it! gather around the fireplace and tell your family stories from yor or wherever you are from. because in my family this is the truth. and i'm not going to wear a shiny outfit, plaster a fake smile on my face for pictures, and compliment people on food that has a saturated fat content of 110% due to the heavy use of lard and velveeta. i'm not going to pretend that i really deep dpwn wanted a gift certificate to the dress barn. i'm not going to concede that a few hours spent near a well decorated tree make everything that is broken all better. i do not have the constitution to ignore the goddamn elephant(s) in the room. what i can do is introduce the elephant. "hello elephant. meet my family. family, elephant. can i get you some cheese covered cheese balls dipped in meat? how about a side of liquid sugary fat to drink? how about it elephant, do you feel lucky, punk?"

merry fucking christmas.

I AM... a poem series by z. age 9

number 1.

I am from
red tomatoes and
spaghetti noodles

I am from green salads
fresh veggies
I am dumpling soup made with
beans.
_____________________________

number 2.

I am from rainbow
minty frosting on a candy
cookie house.

I am from good smells of
hot fudge cooking in the kitchen.

I am from the sound of dogs barking
woof woof

yes we did...

there are so many things swirling around in our world on this historic day. speculations, praise, hope, caution, optimism, redemption, the list could go on forever. what i mostly feel, is hope. i am so grateful this morning, for hope.

as a lesbian mother who has taken on the joy and challenge of raising two beautiful little bi-racial girls i have felt a mother-connection to this race. what i mean by that is simply that i felt more invested for my kids, for what it would mean to them and their history, their journey, their story as young black women (and old black women) in this country than i did for my own political ideologies. in these last days and weeks as i watched obama campaign i held my breath and wished all good things for him the way a mother does when their child is on stage at a school concert. fingers crossed, almost afraid to watch, but too proud and hopeful not to.

good parents tell their kids, "you can be anything you want to be when you grow up". we give them this mantra to propel them forward in their lives even though, secretly, we know that it is more complicated than that. sometimes when i tell my girls this i wonder if i'm sort of lying to them. after all i have seen enough of this world to know that all doors have not historically opened to young people of color, let alone young people of color who come from trauma and are raised by lesbians.

but today, today i feel content. content that i have not lied to my kids. that we as a country have made good on my promise as a mother. my promise to them that if they do good and try their best they can achieve far beyond anything we can fathom.

the other night at dinner as we were talking about the election, and who my little darlings would vote for at school the following day my youngest, g., asked me where barack obama was from. it started us talking about his background. i felt pride and relief to be able to tell them about this (now) very mainstream man, and how he rose to his success from a place much like where they have begun. "he had one mom, and his dad was not there to raise him", i told them. "he had hard times in his life, but he loved learning and worked to be a good person and help other people as hard and as much as he could." they listened and asked questions and got very excited to vote, we all did.

after his win was announced last night i tried to wake them and tell them of the amazing news. my oldest wouldn't even stir from her deep sleep, and little g. didn't open her eyes when i told her, but she smiled a sweet little smile. this morning bounding out of their room the first question was, "mommy!!! did he win? did he win? " and i could say "YES HE DID!" the 3 of us danced in the hallway for a minute. two little black girls fresh off a night of sleep in suburban minnesota, still wearing their shower caps to protect their lovely locks, dancing in celebration of a victory they can only understand a fraction of. it was SO good.

they will grow up with the luxury of taking this historic election for granted. i can tell by the looks on their faces that they, of course, don't fully understand the gravity of this victory. someday they will understand though, and i wonder when that will be? i wonder how this will change the course of their lives? of all of our lives.

there is no doubt that there is a mountain of epic proportions to be climbed by the obama administration, and all of us who are involved and invested in our betterment and growth as a country. for today though i am smiling. because what i have told my kids, that if they work hard they can be anything they want to be, turns out to actually have more truth to it than i let myself dream before this day.

1:1...

some of you readers may be among the blessed ones and know my lovely wifeband, d. she is a real charmer. not to mention quirky as hell. (clearly, a quality shared by every member of the family.)

one of her surprising quirks is her obsession with her own hair. to her credit, she does have great hair. thick, manageable, can-wear-any-style-and-look-great hair. she can often be found checking herself out in the mirror when she's having a good hair day (and even more often when she's having a bad one); and she will talk endlessly about which stage between cuts she is in when someone is foolish enough to compliment her on her hair.

she claims this obsession started early due to her mother running a beauty shop in the basement of her childhood home. she says there were mirrors everywhere and her mom taught her "it's all about teeth and hair". yikes. now i am paying the price for this shotty parenting mantra by listening to the endless queries from my spouse, "how's my hair?"

unfortunately her attentiveness to her hair doesn't translate to an ability to actually fix her own hair. more often than not she asks if i can "tweak" it. i was not blessed with such lustrous locks myself so i don't know why i can fix it better than she, but i can. i attribute this fact to my understanding, and her lack of understanding, of what i call: the hair ratio.

over the years i have noticed that she has a tendency to fix the back of her hair, and then fix the front of her hair. as if they were two separate entities. (they're not honey, they're really not.) i have repeatedly told her over the years that she should treat her hair as one unit. eventually i came up with my hair ratio idea as a way of explaining to her, and amusing myself.

i ask her, "how many heads do you have my love?" she answers, "one" (rather sheepishly). i continue (intentionally condescending), "that's right! one head. one hairstyle. it's a one to one ratio. not two to one. one to one. one head, one hairstyle. not two, just one... one. do you understand? one!" she laughs, assuming i'm just poking fun. i'm not just poking fun. i'm serious. one head+one hairstyle= good. the mullet clearly taught us that one head+two hairstyles= bad. we must heed these lessons and learn from our ancestors.

now, i must be clear here. my wifeband does not now, nor has she ever, sported a mullet. i simply use that illustration to show how far down the dark road a 1:2 ratio can take us.

my wonderful wifeband is well aware that i use her for blog fodder now and again, and she is ok with it. i would even say she's charmed a little. but i'm not telling you this story to charm you, i am doing my part to provide a valuable psa. all of you need to go look in the mirror and consider if you have violated this sacred truth of the 1:1 hair ratio. do it now, do it for the children.

Spac n' peas

i've been draggin' arse on the home front all week; and (might i add) drinking my fair share of wine. i haven't felt inspired to do much. including talk to people, wash my hair, tend to daily chores, or even cook. tonight when i looked in the cupboards and tried to think of what to make for dinner i was surprised to find that i didn't want to just give my kids whatever i could find that was semi-healthy. i wanted to cook something, r-style. i haven't done that in a week, which is extremely rare for me. this is what i came up with:

SPAC 'N PEAS (naming my concoctions is one of my favorite parts of creating them)

-simple homemade cheese sauce (roux, skim milk, monterey, sharp cheddar, and parm, garlic, s &p)

-whole wheat spaghetti- very al dente. (my children's fave form of pasta)

-petite green peas

toss and serve.

YUM.

i feel better. i'm even thinking of other ways to make it down the road. Spac n' Greens with some blanched swiss chard will be next...

Oh Ann... 9/14/1927- 10/10/2008

my gram died on friday afternoon. she had struggled in so many ways, for so many years and then on friday she took a nap and never woke up. no more struggling. i miss her tremendously after only these few days. a shit storm of family lunacy and drama are swirling around me right now and i miss my grounding force, gram.

my sweet z. gave her the name "oh-ann" when she was 2 years old. she thought it was her name because everyone has a tendency to say, "oh ann..." to my gram after she has dropped a verbal bomb on them. she was salty, sassy, and a powerful source of love in my life. she was a flawed and beautiful woman who never gave herself a break.

gram didn't take shit from anybody, and she taught me to do the same. she loved hard. laughed often (at the expense of others:). and cried much. she was a good and strong woman. she was a wonderful gram.

*see previous posting "have you ever been all of the way back to nowhere?" for more.

that's all she wrote...

from z. to me. 10-6-08

written during free time in her 3rd grade class.

sweet and low...

there is no sweeter sound to me these days than the sound of d's car pulling in the driveway with my girls after school. the sound i relish is not from the car specifically, it's the sound of all three of them singing loudly with the windows rolled down.

d. and i are both music fiends and we have made sure it is a centerpiece of our family life. often we have the same taste in music, sometimes we diverge. we're all loving augustana's new song "sweet and low". d. keeps the cd in her car and rocks out with the girls every chance she gets. i, too, enjoy rocking out with the girls each day. currently we are feeling the "sex and the city" soundtrack. :-) g. is addicted to fergie's "labels or love", while z. and myself are hooked on india arie singing "heart of the matter". (although car dancing and singing along with fergie is crazyfun!)

music is such an important part of our family life. in the car, in the house, while we sleep, everywhere. all four of us connect deeply to ourselves and each other through music. it makes us laugh, think, feel, cry.

for both d. and i music was our escape from the lunacy that raged in each of our family homes as children. d. recalls her credit woes as a 3rd grader indebted to columbia tapes and records. i was a paul simon enthusiast, and played my 45 of slip slidin' away on my little blue record player so much i wore it out. (yes, i was a dark child).

our kids rarely choose straight up kids music, although they have the full collection. z. is a U2 junkie, has been since she was 4. g's tastes range from annie lennox to usher, much like my own. d. is a musical hound dog, meaning she is always sniffing out who is new and great on the music scene, and her tastes run a wide range.

d. and i were continuous concerts goers as youngins, both as a couple and before we met. our concert going fell off dramatically when the parenthood set in, but we are happily and steadily regaining that part of our life. the only issue has been explaining to our children that they can't come with if it's not an all ages show. last week we saw shawn colvin at the dakota in minneapolis. it was a great show, just shawn and her guitar. we had a table and ordered wine and french fries. (pretty different than hanging off the stage next to the speakers at first ave, sandwiched between a smelly guy and another smelly guy.) it was great! if you haven't seen a show at the dakota, i highly recommend. my favorite quote of the evening was after she sang "sunny came home" she leaned into the mic and sort of whispered, "sometimes you just need to write a good murder ballad". so true.

here is what else i have in my 5 disc changer in the car:

*jason mraz
*joshua radin
*sex and the city soundtrack
*shawn colvin
*lifehouse

what are you listening to?

somebody get my shovel...

it is becoming abundantly clear that my neighbors landscaper is not well. they have apparently hired him to prune some shrubbery, make some brick borders, and fill in their rock beds. no big deal, right? that's what i thought when he started this job more than 2 weeks ago.

being that i live on what i call an inverted cul-de-sac, our neighbors backyards blend with ours in the way that slices of pie blend to make the whole. we each have our own wedge and they all meet in the middle. this landscaper guy is working in the wedge next to ours.

he shows up at random times, on any of the seven days in a week. he's been there at noon on a tuesday and 6pm on a sunday, and every other possible time in between. sometimes he stays and works for 30 minutes, other times a few hours. he always brings his enormous chocolate lab, and he always leaves his shovels and whathaveyou strewn about their yard when he makes his hasty exits. he wears large radio earphones and shouts greetings to my dogs as they bark furiously at his lab while he marks the yard. it would appear that he is unable to fully complete one task in one area at a time. he fills in a little rock on one side, and before finishing moves to the other side to work there for a while. he doesn't appear to be planting anything, just pruning old shrubs and laying rock. this whole thing is maybe a 2 day job, at most. did i mention he's been working on it for more than 2 weeks?

each day he returns (maybe) and my dogs go crazy, barking wildly at him and his dog . as an at-home parent i am forced to be a witness to this madness, held hostage by his noisy whims. some of you may know that i provide childcare for a 5 month old baby. it's like he's got some sort of radar and shows up to make a bunch of noise at all of the worst times. the baby just fell asleep? let me get out my weed wapper (or is it weed whacker?) and just trim up this grass along the fence. another perfect example came this morning at 6:30. my husky, steve, wanted to go outside. i let him out and he instantly began to howl. i thought to myself, "it can't be. that maniac can't actually be out there at this time of morning! it's still dark out for chrissakes". steve is not typically a barker, in fact this visiting dog and his unstable owner are the only thing that really makes him howl out in the yard. so i squinted my eyes to see if i could make anything out in the darkness and sure enough, loony landscaper was moving piles of dirt around in the dark. piles of dirt! what's loonier, if you need something to be loonier than that, is that he was gone by 7:30, leaving behind random piles of dirt throughout their yard.

this situation is vexing me! i can't figure him out. at first i thought he had adhd or something because of his random task swapping and sudden comings and goings, but now i am beginning to think that he might actually be mentally ill and having some sort of episode. the questions plague me. i wonder what he's listening to on those headphones? why are my neighbors allowing this strangeness in their yard? are they paying this nut-job by the hour? is he ever going to be done? i have actually contemplated going over there and finishing the job myself, just to make it stop. now who's crazy? (yea, it's me.) based on what he's accomplished so far i can safely say that i could have completed the same work in one afternoon with my 5 year playing next to me, and my baby friend strapped to me in the bjorn. i have considered it, believe me.

the other thing i have considered? sneaking up behind him when he's wearing those headphones and hitting him over the head with one of the many shovels laying around. i could bury the body under all that rock, and it wouldn't take me 2 weeks to do it.

will you be my friend?

it seems the older we get the more difficult it becomes to spontaneously make a new friend. we probably all have the experience of meeting someone new and thinking, "man, they're cool i would like to hang out with them". but if you're out of college and don't have school as a means for crossing paths frequently and establishing a pattern of witty exchanges or shared eye rolls, how do you make friends when you're a grown up? sure there are these new fangled social networks where you can click a button to add new friends to your life, but i'm not talking about that. i'm talking about seeing someone in real time in the real world and approaching them with actual words out of your actual mouth. radical, i know.

the youngest of my brood, g., is in kindergarten, where making friends is actually a part of the curriculum. being a bit of an overachiever she has made it her personal homework assignment to "make friends" with every single kid in her class. (she would prefer to also be the first one to make friends with everyone, but that is another issue:) she comes home each day with the 'new friend report'. it usually goes like this:

monday: " hey mommy, today i asked ben to be my friend, and he just looked at the floor and walked away.

tuesday: "hey mommy, today i asked ella to me friend and she said yes and we played pretend just-got-born-babies at the zoo"

wednesday: "hey mommy, today verinnia and sahetta got to be my friends because they played with me and i didn't even ask 'em to and i can tell they really like me a a lot so i didn't even ask 'em if they wanted to my friends because i just know they do. isn't that weird? (deep breath) their moms let them color on their faces and they make dots on their heads. how come you don't let me make dots on my head?" (they wear bindi's:-)

thursday: "hey mommy, guess what?!?! i asked ben again to be my friend and this time he said yes! i guess he was just shy before."

friday: "hey mommy, today i was gonna ask charlie to my friend but then he kept touching my hair so i didn't ask him"
ME: "which one is charlie, point him out to me."
G: "over there, jumping on that other boy"
ME: "hey chuck! this one here is my girl, keep your hands OFF! are we clear?"
based on the look of terror in his eye, i think we're clear.

everyday as g. is recounting her list of new friends and how she simply approached them each with one simple request, "will you be my friend?" i think, first of all, i'm raising one brave and confident girl! secondly, i wish grown ups could do that to (without seeming like a creepy stalker). i think we, as grown folks, are just so tied to conversation as a cornerstone of friendship that it becomes a lot more difficult. g. makes her request, gets an answer, and plays. often in silence, next to someone else. happy just to share the space and maybe the activity at hand. can you imagine if i tried that. let's say i see another mom waiting in the hall after school, and i've seen her each day. we have the same bumper stickers on our non-suvs, and we both wear keens. we are from a similar tribe and we both know it. we exchange the pleasant mouth-closed half-smile as we stand and wait for our kids each day. we even make some small talk from time to time about weather. let's say that my next move is to simply say to her, "will you be my friend?" and let's pretend (for the story's sake) that she replies, "sure". what then? can we silently go about our activities in tandem? side by side, without feeling awkward and uncomfortable? (sadly, the answer here is no). if you are in the workforce than the option for work friends exists, and you are guaranteed to have at least your choice of career in common, and that is pretty significant. if you are an at-home parent like myself than it's a little dicier. just being a parent isn't really enough to establish the lasting bonds of friendship. primarily because there are so many different ways to parent. i consider myself a progressive non-traditional mom type, which makes that pool of potential friends even smaller. fortunately for me i am blessed to have good friends left over from the school days/ work days when i made 'em, but some fresh blood would be nice to throw in the mix too. for a minute i thought it would be nice if there were some sort of "will you be my friend" personals. but that would never work because you would always wonder if people wanted to be your friend or if they wanted to be your (as my father says) special friend. ick. who needs the hassle.

the other issue is the issue of couple friends. my wifeband and i are very different, socially speaking. she could make pleasant conversation and deep connection talking to a catatonic. i, am a little more awkward. although i am known to be very vocal, i am initially pretty shy in social situations. i am closeted-shy i guess one might say. i feel uncomfortable when i first enter most social situations, but i fake it til i make it, have a glass of wine, and do my best. after you know me, as sure most readers here can attest to, it's hard to shut me up. "so i got that goin' for me, which is nice." (bill murray circa caddyshack) all of these factors make it difficult for us to meet other couples that we both connect to. i'll tell you this though, when we do meet them it's magical and wacky fun times ensue!

having good friends to rely on for laughter, advice, and just general merriment is one of the best parts of life. seeing g. boldly making new ones each day is inspiring. although they come along less frequently as adults, i am thankful for those friends in my life that i have weathered the years, hairstyles, fashion missteps, and stupid boys/girls with. and even though it makes me a little uncomfortable just thinking about it, i look forward to the friends i will (awkwardly) make in the future.

"have you ever been all of the way back to nowhere?"...

socrates? plato? buddha? nope, my gram. she has severe dementia and this was the pearl she dropped at her 81st birthday party last friday. the party was at the home of "mother" (aka: p.) and my dentist (her husband, but first he was my dentist). they served kfc and dairy queen cake (geez, even just recalling it there i puked in my mouth a little). if you're still with me i'll give you the guest list: me and my kids. my box-selling brother, his wife, and 2 princesses (trust me, the word 'daughters' wouldn't cover it). my birth sister (story for another day), her ex-husband/ soon to be next husband, and her hilarious son. and lastly, the star of the evening, my salty gram (quite an all american guest list) . gram lives in a nursing home at p's insistence and needs to taxi to gatherings these days as she is nearly bound to her wheelchair. she was late for her aforementioned soiree because she told the first taxi that came for her that she didn't need his help. and believe me, she's the kind of lady you listen to, even with dementia and a wheelchair. so a second taxi had to be called and the driver was told that regardless of her threats just load her up and haul her over because, after all, p. needs a new picture for her fridge of a dead eyed grandma and 5 plastic faced children forced to smile while wondering what that smell is coming from grams chair. my gram is a crusty lady who worked her whole adult life in a factory to support her family. she is a big swede who routinely broke her digits when i was young and was forever in one of those 'broken toe' clogs. she never chewed a whole stick of gum at once. she made me homemade underwear until i was 12 (i know),at which time i put my pre-adolescent fist down (read: i bought my own store bought undies with my babysitting money and she found out and made me feel guilty.) she was the only person in my family that i could tell really liked me a lot, and she let me eat doughnuts when p. wasn't looking. suffice it to say, i love my gram. she's a pain in the ass, but i love her all the more for it. i suspect she feels something similar for me. she was raised on a farm by a single mother in cambridge, mn during the great depression. her mother was only 1 of 2 people to not lose their farms during that time. my gram rebelled, like any good teenager, and rejected her mothers life to move to the city when she was 19. she married the biggest a-hole i have ever met and fought (literally) her way through life with him until he died about 6 years ago. she had 2 kids, one is p., and the other a son who died when he was 17. she wears her grief on her face to this day.

like i said before, my gram has dementia. she was diagnosed about 11 years ago when, shortly after retiring from the factory, she had a stroke that caused a terrible car accident. her mind has slowly (but steadily) been leaving her ever since. she relies on under paid workers to wipe her ass and take her to eat. she has lucid moments, and in those her enormous swedish eyes fill and run over with tears as she tells me, "it is hell getting old". i believe her. to be such a strong, independently willed and self sufficient woman who is reduced to uncontrolled bowels and not remembering who is dead and who is alive, let alone what day it is, has got to be a crazy kind of hell. at her party last week when she looked my brother right in the eye and asked if he "had ever been all of the way back to nowhere?" it wasn't the ramblings of a dead mind, it was the core of the truth that she is living with each day. she has slowly and painfully made her way back to the nowhere from which she came. from which we all come. if all is as it should be in the beginning of our "nowhere"we each start as someones dream, a glimmer in a soon-to-be parents eye. if we live a long life can it be true that we circle back to where we started? are we doing laps? and if, in fact, your beginning isn't so glorious that wouldn't really be the best of homecomings. on this return trip to nowhere, as the light grows dim and you find yourself back to where you started with a backpack full of a life lived, there seems to be a different sort of anticipation. my gram is terribly afraid of dying, i think this intense fear has actually kept her going through several near deaths over the last decade. a few times a year something happens and we all brace ourselves, prepare in our minds for that news, and always she pulls back through and hangs on a little longer to the world. her and i talk very openly about her death, something taboo to the rest of the family who subscribe to "every thing's fine" way of life. some days she says she just feels done, others she talks like she's waiting to take the drivers test so she can go back to work. i look around at what is left of her life and family, she has outlived every one of her siblings, friends, parents, and even one of her 2 children. the rest of us youngins are a small bunch and i'm the only grandchild who visits her. so what is she living for? what is she hanging on to? i suspect she doesn't really know. i suspect she is so afraid of what is on the other side of the curtain that she's rather just stay where she is. which speaks volumes to her fear as she lives, currently, in hell. no wonder her mind is shutting down. even so, she is still in there from time to time. for instance, when i arrived for a visit with her 2 days ago she was busy getting dolled up for an outing to a local restaurant with her fellow residents. she was in her new purple pants and purple sweater , and one of the staff at her nursing home was liberally applying dark purple eye shadow to her enormous eyelids. (i guess old women really do wear purple, huh.) gram looked at me from her purple haze and muttered, "i outta catch a live one looking like this". the next day i returned for another visit and asked how her lunch went, she snarked, "well, i can tell you this, i didn't get no live one". at least she can remember the content of our banter. i love witty banter, it's one of my favorite things. especially with my crazy, brash, sassy, salty, foul-mouthed, insulting, rude, and occasionally prophetic gram.

i love these two women...

i was gonna get the jet, but i bought this on ebay instead...

Sarah Palin's Speech Outline (original copy- i swear)

I. talk about my family.

a. focus on the males. (one line about all 3 females should cover it)

b. don't mention anything re: bristol's immaculate conception.
i. pay fox news to zoom in on fake engagement ring that the big mac bought for her to wear.

II. soundbite.
a. keep it light, no need to delve deep right now.

III. sarcastic quip.
a. never mention "him" by name. "our opponent" will do.

IV. soundbite (again, light on content+poorly educated public= fear based voting)

V. sarcastic quip
a. aim it for you-know-who

(pause to gaze lovingly at youngest daughter while she licks baby's hair.)

VII. soundbite.

VIII. sarcastic quips x 4

... and i'm done.

__________________________________

yea, that's about how it came off. and did anyone else notice her startling resemblance to tina fey? i hate to admit it b/c i heart tina fey to the depths of my soul, but it could make for an AWESOME season opener for SNL if they take advantage of this! i can just see amy poehler playing the five year old licking her hand and smoothing out the sleeping babies hair. which makes me think, how the hell was that baby sleeping? my kids woke up at that age if the floor creaked, they may have spontaneously imploded in that environment. did they dope him, do you think? she went back to work as the governor of alaska 3 days after his birth, so i wouldn't put it past her. 3 days!!

c'mon people. seriously. seriously? SERIOUSLY!! seriously?? superserious? are you serious?

serious.

a stones throw...

i have some concerns about what i see happening with barack obama. more to the point, i have some concerns about what some left wingers are doing to barack obama. since just before hilary conceded there has been a trend of tearing him down, and it makes me want to step back and examine this trend of 'glorify then demonize' that we seem to be addicted to in this country. i am all about our freedom to ask questions and scrutinize our leaders and policies. but i would like to say to all of the loud mouthed fools out there that you should really be more educated before you start regurgitating the sound bite you heard and liked. because you sound dumb, and bitter. two qualities which make (smart)people immediately stop listening to you. which in effect removes you from the political discourse that you so desperately want to be a part of. ask yourself, are you moving the political process forward or in reverse?

it's alarming to me that i hear people, over the course of a year or so, go through the same course of talk about a celebrity like brittney spears, as i do about our democratic nominee for president. we build 'em up and we tear 'em down. and i wonder why? what are we getting out of it as individuals? because you know we wouldn't do it if we weren't getting something out of it. people love to cheer for the underdog, to feel they have somehow seen value in someone that no one else has found. but what happens when the world discovers this person and they become generally accepted? i see this all the time. someone loves the next big thing. the next big thing becomes THE big thing and then all of the sudden the original admirer does not love anymore. why? is it not cool? because a year ago the sun rose and set out of the arse of a plucky young african american senator who was considering a run at the whitest house on earth. it was his sincerity, and his vision for change that we all felt so hungry for. now we attack his sincerity and call it naivete and we say his vision for change translates to loose policy. with brittney she was a "role model" and a promising young talent (to some:), and now she's a filthy whore not worthy of our compassion. i have a news flash here people, she was never a role model, and she's not a filthy whore. barack was never the second coming, and he's a not a backwoods neophyte either. they, and the thousands of others like them in the public eye are human. aka, not perfect. ie, neither god nor devil. i am feeling really disgusted with this trend of hoisting someone onto our shoulders, cheering them onto the big pedestal, applauding them as they stand there and we adore from down below, all the while searching the ground for big freakin' rocks to hurl at them in unison and knock them the hell of that f-ing pedestal- i mean who do they think they are anyway!? c'mon people! knock it off. it's self destructive behavior. i hear the right wing and the terrified talking about the enemies coming to get us from other parts of the world and i think, why would they bother? we are going to collapse in on ourselves pretty quick here if we keep this up. we (USA) are like a spoiled teenager spinning out of control. someone is our B/F/F one week, we hate them the next. we consume everything we can get our grubby hands on expecting someone else to clean up our mess and pay the bill. we eat like it's the last supper 3 times a day. we talk loudly about things we really do not understand. we judge people who we perceive as different from us and we think our way is the only good way there is. it's really ridiculous when you look at it. when a voice of reason does try and creep in, we boo and hiss as loudly as we can and call them names. for instance, the media and many of the people who have jumped on the "iraq war is bad" bandwagon now like to say that no one was dissenting the war before it happened, that the president had the country behind him. false. i'm pretty sure i remember a latte being thrown from the window of a large SUV as my family and i marched against the war with a large group of other people before the war began. i'm also pretty sure i remember hearing about lots of other such rallies being help all over the country. but the booing and the hissing and the anti-patriotic name calling drowned us out. what i'm saying is that of more people would be able to articulate what they really think and feel if we would all just calm down. think it through. take turns talking. read more. ask questions, and LISTEN to what all sides have to say. and did i mention, calm down? what about think more? did i already say that? stop expecting others (read: public figures) to be far more perfect than you. they're not. they have an area of talent that is different than you, and they are qualified for a different job than you are. it's ok. you can respect them and disagree sometimes. you can like their vision and not agree with all of their platforms. you can vote for change and be brave and try something new even if you aren't sure if it's going to work out the way you want it to. you don't have to be obama-crazed to vote a democrat into office. he will do a good job. and he will make mistakes. these are the things we know. keep asking questions, but please calm down and do it nicely. you might be surprised with what you hear in the answers when you listen with an open mind.

holy crap...

so i just returned from a visit to the veterinarian with 2 of my 3 hound dogs. 28 pound lab puppy, here to fore known as hartley. and my now 8 pound (she gained one:) poodle named for my favorite mountain, mckinley. seemed reasonable, and one might even argue, sensible to take them to the vet together and get the proverbial 2 birds business done with the one stone. this is one of those many moments in my life where i realize the vast difference between theory and actuality. in theory, it's a good idea. in actuality, i feel like i just survived something horrific, and i'm having a hard time piecing together the memories of the last hour. the ptsd has set in and i am moving into a stunned phase of shock and awe. i'm sure the flashbacks will come and bring with them all sorts of panic type features. fur flying everywhere. a boneless red haired puppy flopping about like a gynormous fish out of water. a gynormous fish on a leash that continually wraps around, and nearly snaps, my ankle bones as he twists and turns his way ever closer to the the young vet tech in a smock covered in kittens playing with balls of yarn. what's that i hear in the background? a mix of heavy panting from said lab and a sharp ear piercing yap from my mountainous poodle. i tink i feel a drop of blood trickle from my ear. i am sure in this moment that this is my nam. and i'm wondering who i should of said what to. did i tell dana i loved her enough? are my girls going to watch helplessly as i perish here on the waiting room floor of a veterinary office? what will they remember of me? suddenly i feel cold and i see a bright light. am i dead? no, it's the a/c kicking on and the door to the exam room has opened, offering solace in it's confinement. i crawl past the obese black cat named dora that lives in that hellish waiting room and into a small well lit room where i am safe. and then an angel appears, a different vet tech this time, and her smock has puppies on it. "oh thank god", i think to myself, "she is a dog person, surely she will help me. she will untangle me and save me from this dirty hairy floor." and she does. she lifts the crazy blob of a puppy onto the exam table and takes his leash along with him. he settles down, and even lays down. i stand, i feel the floor beneath my feet and i think, i just might make it out of here. don't breathe, don't blink. just hand over your credit card and keeps your eyes on the door. we're almost done. and the vet has come and gone and examined the dogs and injected them with something i assume is good for them. everything sounds like i'm in a tunnel. little georgia tugs on my tank top and asks me something, but i can't hear her. it's like she's charlie browns teacher. i am lost and solely focused on making it out alive. suddenly i am home. i don't remember getting both wiggling yapping piles of fur into the car and driving, but i must have because i am here. i am safe. i open the door to the backyard and they run out to lap up some water and greet their big brother. god knows what they will tell him of our time away. my head is full and racing and i have pains in places i shouldn't. leash burns and near bone breaks i suppose. i am thankful my life was spared, and for this blog onto which i empty the contents of my head and let the healing begin.

...and now i have to go make dinner.

mother earthly......

my head has been chock full these last 24 hours/ always about thoughts on this thing called the motherhood. if you are one, you know what i'm talking about. these intense feelings of love and connection deeper and more real than you knew existed. and this constant struggle to find a contented balance for your family. in a culture that thinks there are black and white answers to all questions, we live in a constant gray area as mothers. the real juggling act i do is not running the errands and taking the kids to activities and doctors and all of that worldly stuff, it is the other side. the earthly side that keeps the balls constantly in the air. by worldly i mean the list of to-do's, the intellectual side of running a family. the working out of equations in our head as if our kids or families are math problems to solve. i was never good at math. by earthly i mean the bigger picture. the core essential truth that all of the to-dos don't amount to much. the details of the day that inundate us and perplex us are not the core of what we are grappling with. as mothers we grapple, whether aware or not, with much bigger issues. the juggling and balancing act i do is one of planets. we are a "four family" to quote georgia, and as the mother it is my job to gently wrap these four planets in my earthly understanding of what we all need and want and create a sense of unity and whole balance where all of our highest goods are being served. no pressure. it becomes the most scary and tricky and beautiful and awe-inspiring when one of our four planets orbits away from the established balance. at this point it becomes my duty to first recognize the shift and imbalance. evaluate and acknowledge what is and is not working for this planet and our solar system as a whole. and to gently either realign the outward orbiting planet back to the solar system, or recognize that the planet is not the one off balance, and lovingly shift the solar system to regain balance as a whole. no biggie. :-) these sorts of shifts can come a few times a year, or a few times a day. a mother must always have her eyes and heart open and aware to the fact that our worldly decisions will never stand up against our families earthly truths, even when we think they should.

i didn't come to this awareness of motherhood right off the bat, although i'd love to pretend i did. it is an ongoing evolution of figuring out what has worked and what has not. usually what has not. what does not. i am the queen of looking at the big and small pictures and problem solving my way through a difficult time. managing time, daily tasks, and the people around me. tending to details and making sure all is where it "should" be. one annoying and invaluable lesson the motherhood has given me is the understanding that sometimes all of the pieces are in place, all of the details are tended to, and everyone has what they "should" need. and it still doesn't work. i can't make it work. that really sucks. i've always been a strong and wise woman that could tap into my worldly and earthly sides and find a solution to each problem. ...until i became a mother. i find more and more that to get to our solar systems highest good i have to shut out the white noise, let the worldly fall away, and focus on the earthly balance. when i have allowed myself to do this my family has benefited immeasurably. the more i see this and feel this the easier it becomes to tap into those core truths and keep us in planetary alignment. i'm sure that by the time i have it down, they will be ready to fly the solar system and find their own planets to orbit with. i take comfort in knowing that this four family will always share a universe.

i'm so S.A.H.F.- ic

being new this whole blogging business i have been poking around trying to find interesting blogs to read and people to connect with. i am mostly drawn to mom blogs, more specifically, brutally honest mom blogs that make me feel less alone. i've found a few good ones (see blog list) and look forward to continued exploration. on one mom blog i saw she referred to herself as a SAHM (stay at home mom). i like this for a few reasons: one, i am a fan of acronyms, and B.) it got the polluted stream of consciousness in my head flowing.

you see i have long identified as a stay at home feminist. never heard of such a title? you will, just wait it will sweep nation one of these days. i'm sure of it. i've chosen this identity because it's more about who i am individually than who i am as related to my kids and partner, and i don't want to lose myself while i am at home parenting and running this mad house. it also separates me out from the at-home mombots who are drunk on their power at the PTO, and for whom the word scrapbook is a verb. i like this distinction. so i was thinking, what would my acronym be? why it would have to be SAHF, of course!. which naturally made me think of Sappho, queen of the isle of lesbos. so i have decided that a good all inclusive acronym to help identify all of who i am (feminist-mother-lesbian) is to simply refer to myself as SAHF-ic. i'm so SAHF-ic. yes, it suits me. which leads me to wonder, are there any other SAHF-ic's out there in the blogosphere? i would love to find you if you ever find yourselves lurking here. one need not be a lesbian to be SAHF-ic, but one must be a feminist.

next i started wondering, what should i be doing as a SAHF-ic pioneer to make my agenda known? do i even have an agenda? or is this just a way of amusing myself and making me believe that i have not lost who i was b.c. (before children)? and then i thought, what the hell, i ALWAYS have an agenda, and opinions. i also always have a feeling of entitlement to share my opinions, whether wanted or not. i'm not saying it's a good quality, i'm just saying i possess it. anyhoo, here is my SAHF-ic bill of rights/ code of conduct/ list of demands/ random proclamations: (AKA, you might be a SAHF-ic if...)

1.) Have a lot of opinions and share them regularly.

2.) Believe that women are at least equal, but more likely superior.

3.) enjoy political discourse.

4.) this is a must: opt OUT of the free-with-every- c-section lobotomy that is apparently being offered at hospitals nation wide.

5.) never wear high heels and/ or make-up when you aren't going to make it out of the house that day and then claim, "i just feel better when i look nice". wanna feel better? read a book or listen to NPR. or better yet, take a nap because you're probably over tired.

6.) talk (and listen) to your kids as if you actually value their opinions and ideas.

7.) value their opinions and ideas.

8.) value your opinions and ideas. and for that matter tell your kids that they need to value your opinions and ideas.

9.) identify and do some things that YOU enjoy doing every day, even if it means that the things (i.e. house cleaning) don't get done.

10.) don't settle for being disrespected by your family. just because we SAHF-ics aren't unionized doesn't mean we can't go on strike.

11.) make yourself laugh by making your kids think you've snapped completely. sometimes i climb on my kitchen table at lunch time and shake my fists while shouting "UNION! UNION!" so i can feel like norma ray. it really freaks'em out.

12.) when you're sad, be sad. when you're happy, be happy. when you're mad, swear under your breath while stomping around the house. teach your kids that you're human and it's ok for everyone in a family to feel all kinds of things and still love each other. (even moms)

13.) make some friends and go out with them. have a life outside of your house that has nothing to do with your kids. it's good for you, and it's a good example of self-care to set for the future SAHF-ics in your house that may be watching. personally, i like to play ridiculously hard trivia at a bar on tuesday nights with my friends.

14.) keep up on current events, not only for trivia night, but to keep one foot planted in the world outside of your family.

15.) and lastly (for now), be appalled and angry at all of the stupid shit that is going on around us. and then blog about it so your fellow SAHF-ics can get pissed off too.

making love out of nothing at all...

dear love,

thank-you for waking me with your sweetness each morning.
thank-you for helping me feel grounded in myself every day.
thank-you for lifting me up in the afternoon when i am drained from all of my worldly responsibilities.
thank-you for always being available to me when i need you.
thank-you for being hot.
thank-you for never talking.
thank-you for helping me poop.

i love you my sweet dear tea.
thank-you for being just for me.

sincerest love,
R.

the new black...

it seems that comings out of all sorts are just destined to be a regular part of my life. so here comes another one. my daughter izzy is autistic. of all my comings-out this one is the most difficult. i don't like saying it, i don't like it being real. her particular diagnosis is PDD-NOS on the ASD (i know). that means pervasive developmental delay- not otherwise specified on the autism spectrum. what it really means is that on the spectrum of autism you have on one end, the traditionally autistic (non-verbal etc...) on the other end you have aspergers (high functioning autistic- usually really smart about one particular area), and then in the middle you have PDD-NOS which is a very vague diagnosis that can vary significantly from person to person and it pulls from any and all parts of the autism spectrum. a person with PDD-NOS can have any combo of autistic features, and often their diagnosis are co-morbid with other diagnosis. for izzy it is a litany of anxiety disorders. any way you spell it, it's a mouthful. slowly over the last few years we have been coming to terms with what this means for the big picture of her life and the small picture of our daily life. we have been hesitant to share this with the people in our lives because we don't feel like we are on sure footing with it ourselves and it often sparks a lot of questions, conversations, and various looks of pity, concern, disappointment, and confusion. dana and i are both blessed with the gift of sarcasm and we often joke that "autism is the new black". it seems every time we turn on the news or open a magazine there is something about it staring us in the face. these are the questions people usually have for us upon learning about izzy: do you think it's the vaccines? do you know what caused it? how did you get her diagnosed? how does she do in school? does she take medications? have you tried __________ therapy? did you read__________ article/book? did you see oprah? and on and on. don't get me wrong, i appreciate all of the care and concern behind these questions and often it's helpful for me just to get to talk about it. but it's hard not to feel like i'm doing something wrong, or i did something wrong to be among the masses who are learning that their children are ASD (autism spectrum disorder). and i don't know the answers to many of these questions, this is what i do know: i don't know if it's vaccines, so far research says no, but i can't really say. she was diagnosed about 2 years ago by a neuro-psychiatrist that we waited over a year to get in with because she is known as a conservative diagnoser who believes too many kids are being placed on the spectrum. her diagnostic report, after all of the testing, was beautifully done and i feel like the only time i've read something (written by a doctor) about my daughter that really encapsulated all of her. she does ok in school, she has an IEP and a lot of help. she loves going to school. yes, we've tried a lot of therapies, some help, some don't. there are too many for one family to try them all. i've read a lot of books and a lot of articles, and yes i saw that oprah. :-)

i'm sure you all remember when adhd was "all the rage". i know i do. i was a non-parent back then and i often judged the medical profession and sometimes the parents who seemed to be so content to diagnosis and medicate their children. it's just so easy to listen to soundbites and see a few people debate an issue on a tv show and form an opinion that, unless you're someone directly affected, you have no right to form. now i find myself stuck in the middle of the soundbites and my daily life. i'll be honest, autism is a bitch. although i know and accept that this is a part of my izzy, sometimes i fragment it. separate it. compartmentalize it, as a way to remove it and manage it. some days i parent izzy, georgia, and autism. all individuals. i don't want to label her or box her in. some days it's not so bad, she just seems like a quirky funny kid. other days, the autism takes over and i can hardly see my girl in there. those days are excruciating. i am home alone with the kids most of the time, which can be isolating in it's own right. throw into the mix a kid who has social issues and severe and debilitating anxiety and your days can become an island. izzy wants to play with typical kids, but they don't often want to play with her. and trying to get autistic kids to play together, well, let's just say that can feel like trying to swim on dry land. it's hard to watch the neighbor kids run off and play together and leave my kids behind. i understand it, but it's hard. made more difficult by the fact that izzy doesn't understand. she just wants everyone to like her and talk to her about the foods they ate that day and to listen to her read her captain underpants books. i can see the confusion and hurt on her face when others don't want this. especially kids. she has a lot more success with grown-ups. they find her very charming and funny, because she is. that kid says some of the most insightful, funny, wacky things i have ever heard. i believe that there is good that comes from struggle, and the nuggets of humor and wisdom that fly out of izzy's mouth are the good in autism. if she were typical, i would of missed out on a lot of good stuff. one of my favorite izzy stories is when she was getting her haircut at great clips in uptown. she LOVES to get her hair cut because she has a captive audience to chat at for 30 minutes. last march as she was chatting away, michelle (our favorite hair lady) was combing out her fro. her hair was parted down the middle and fully combed out on each side. izzy paused in her chat-rant long enough to look up into the mirror at herself and in a totally spontaneous moment she loudly exclaimed: "OHMIGOD! i look just like george washington!!!" silence fell over the salon for a half of a second and then everyone busted a gut laughing. it was so cute and charming, and oddly enough everyone could see what she meant. despite the fact that she is an 8 year old bi-racial girl, she did kind of resemble george, but only she could see it enough to say it. as everyone was laughing, izzy looked over at me and said, "did i make a joke mommy? was it ok?" that sums up autism for me. she said the most perfect one liner, but doesn't even understand what a joke really is without being told 'this is a joke'. knowing me you should be able to guess how hard that can be on a daily basis. i am constantly cracking jokes, consequently izzy follows me around saying, "you're just saying that, it's a joke, i know it's a joke". don't get me wrong, she laughs at jokes, but not usually until verified as such.

we recently had a talk with izzy and explained to her what autism was and how it affects her. we told her it's a word to describe the ways that her brain works differently. she said, "oh. au-tism. that's a cool word. can i watch a little something?" (she loves movies) since then when features of her autism begin to come out we point out to her, "this is a part of your autism honey, it's ok" we want to give her language for her struggles and we want to demystify this word for her as she will no doubt hear it a lot over her lifetime.

as for me, it's very difficult for me to share this information about my daughter. doing so makes her, and our whole family, vulnerable. but i have been finding myself unable to reach out a lot to other people, even just here on this blog because i am living in autism world and very few people know it. a lot of what i want to write about is how autism trickles out in a family beyond the one diagnosed. what it feels like to try and find the balance of getting your child the help she needs, while fighting not to become the poster child yet again. we are realizing that secrecy is not the right answer either. so i'm going to talk about it. it's not all i want to talk about, some days i would rather talk about anything else. but having the option is a good thing.