The Fitzpatrick 2011 Christmas card

Reflections on a Year

So, 2011 comes to a close.  So much to reflect on.  So much to look forward to.  So hard to not be all sentimental, reflective and hopeful this time of year.  I can't help it.

Here goes,

2011 - Lows

Sensory Processing Disorder
Aidan's surgery
Tough decisions regarding jobs and schools
The first 3 months of school (for me)
Dan getting laid off
Rowan not qualifying for SpEd services
Saying goodbye to my friends at NSCS
Losing our kitty, Beaner

2011- Highs

Trip to the Porcupine Mountains
Rowan's significant progress
Aidan learning guitar
Summer with Carrie and Corryn
Dan getting laid off
LYNNIE (Rowan's preschool teacher - she deserves her own post)
Rowan getting into speech therapy at SRC
A reminder to stay humble in my new job
Getting really good at sewing
The boys sharing a room

2011 - Grateful fors

Friends, old and new
My new creating space
Supportive family
Rowan - for being so funny, cute and imaginative
Aidan - for being so musical, funny, smart
Dan - for being supportive, loving and an awesome dad
LYNNIE
Duluth
My happy, healthy home

2012 - Looking forward to

More vacations
Watching Dan grow his own business
Watching Rowan grow into himself
Listening to Aidan's music
Making more stuff
Going on more hikes
Spending more time in and on the water
Laughing

A happy happy 2012 to you!!!!!!!!!

Body Parts You Can Live Without

I'll admit it, I've been ignoring my blog.  Sorry.  Insert usual excuses here: too busy, not inspired, etc.

It was an eventful week at the Fitzpatrick household, to say the least.  Starting Monday with a just-in-case ER visit, and crescendoing to emergency surgery by Saturday.  Fun times.

So, little Aidan has been dealing with phimosis for the last year or so, with little discomfort until about a week ago.  When he was complaining that it hurt to pee on Monday (he neglected to tell us it had been going on for days) we took him to the ER, and then consulted with a pediatric surgical urologist to schedule a minor procedure for the following week to open things up a bit.

Alas, things went downhill quickly.  More and more pain each day, until Friday night, where the kid could hardly pee at all.  Another trip to the ER, where we were told it was an infection.  Wrong.  In actuality, the hole was closing up, which it completely did by Saturday morning.  Ouch.

Immediately, I got on the phone to call the urologist again, and it was agreed an emergency circumcision was the only route.  Problem is, there is no pediatric surgical urologist in Duluth, so we had to rush to the twin cities.  Car Ride From Hell ensued.  For two and a half hours, Aidan howled in agony.  I did my best  while Dan sped.  Rubbed his back, applied, ice, played ipad movies.  The worst of it was that Rowan just didn't get it, and he couldn't stand Aidan's screaming, so he started screaming.  Then I started screaming.  I would not make a good nurse.

We finally made it down, and after a dose of morphine, the kiddo was more comfortable, and within 45 minutes he was in surgery.  The doc couldn't believe how much pressure his little organ was under and can't imagine how much pain he was in.  All went well, and we have returned home, frazzled and traumatized, but relieved, and with a little less skin.  Aidan is the bravest person I know.

While we were waiting to be discharged, Aidan and I were talking about body parts you can live without.  Your foreskin, your tonsils, your appendix, your gall bladder, etc.

"Have I ever had my tonsils or index out, Mom?"

At least he is understanding the parts of a book.  Nice.

Special thanks to Auntie Ann, who met us at Children's Hospital and went on Rowie Duty, so we could focus on getting Aidan fixed.

Reference Point

Sometimes you just don't realize how far you've come until something from the past resurfaces for a brief moment.

Remember Rowan's violent stage?  Ack, that was the worst.  He would get upset about something and immediately hit, kick or bite.  Especially noise, and especially Aidan playing any kind of instrument.  I am not quite sure how we survived it.  With many of his behaviors, the violent attacks would ebb and flow...so when it went away last time (when WAS that?) I gave it a sneer and a "Yeah, whatever, behavior, you'll be back."

Last week, Aidan sat down to practice the piano.  This usually upsets Rowan, but if he voices his opinion, Aidan will usually stop so we can get his brother occupied with something else or remove him to another room.  This time, Aidan decided to be all Big Brothery.  You know, push some buttons.  He kept playing.  "AIDAN STOP!!!!"  Continued to play more.  "AIDAN THAT'S TOO LOUD."  Kept on going. "AIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!"  (At this point, I am trying to get him to stop too.) And....kept playing.  I watched Rowan snap.  He just completely lost control, ran over, and smacked Aidan.

But this time it was different.  I saw something in Rowan's face change...horror and resentment at what he had just done.  (Aidan was fine, by the way, and frankly he kind of had it coming.)  Rowan ran over to me, sobbing, "I hit Aidan!"  like he realized how terrible it was that he reacted in such a way.

It was amazing to watch that realization wash over his face. What a great reference point.  A moment for me to recognize that slowly he is acquiring the skills he needs to cope with his sensory stuff.  Wow, how far he's come.   And, although he still can snap, now I know that behavior not coming back to the degree that it was before, because HE recognizes it.

Birthday Fun or Back in the Saddle or What a Father Will Do For His Kids

This post was brought to you by a big beefy steer.

First, let me preface this story by saying I am a hippie at heart.  I don't eat a ton of red meat, don't care for country music, or own a truck or any clothing with the American Flag on it.  These are important details later.

Saturday was Dan's 39th birthday.  Though things have been going fairly well around here, we were ready for a night out sans children.  This becomes apparent when you converse more through text messaging than you do in person.  We were all set for a movie, dinner and drinks, but alas, the Thing That Seems to Happen To Us More Than Most People Happened:  the sitter called and cancelled.  Down the list we went, but to no avail.  No uninterrupted conversation for us.

The two of us kind of moped around for a good part of the afternoon, as the "sorry I can't help you" calls rolled in.  We decided to go out anyway, with the kids, to Pizza Luce, a favorite haunt.  I rummaged through a collection of gift cards I have, knowing I had one for Luce, and stumbled across one for Texas Roadhouse that I'd received as a going away present last spring.  The idea struck me that this might make for an interesting night.  Neither of us had been there before.  Now, of all the places I can think of that I would like to visit least in the world, Texas might be first on the list.  A roadhouse might be up in the top ten.  A visit to an establishment like this is probably normalcy for many Americans, but for us it would become kitschy goodness.  Hippies in a Hotbed of Country Lovin' Folks.  I presented the idea to Dan, and with a giggle, he agreed.  I went upstairs and changed into a jean skirt, boots and a funny old pink cowgirl shirt I've held on to for some reason, just to kick it up a notch.

When we arrived to check in on our "call ahead seating," we almost bailed for two reasons.  First, the music and dull roar of the crowd inside made Rowan stop in his tracks.  He absolutely would NOT cross the threshold.   Second, as I peered in, I noticed PEANUT SHELLS all over the floor.  Oh great, I thought, not only are we in for a Sensory Overload experience with Rowan, but we'll get a bonus round of anaphylactic shock with the other kid.  Happy Birthday, Daddy.  Somehow we overcame these obstacles as Rowan was calmed by our reassurance and the presence of the epi-pen in the backpack was verified.

Once we were settled and seated, it actually ended up being the perfect place for our little family.  The music wasn't too loud, and the crowd translated as more of a white noise, which kept Rowan in check.  Plus, our kids could be their normal boisterous selves and we wouldn't have to worry about their noise level.  OH, AND they had KRAFT Macaroni and Cheese on the menu.  FINALLY.  Come on, chefs, kids don't want fancy homemade mac n cheese, they want KRAFT.  A good chance the child will actually eat at this restaurant.

The giant slabs of beef and their accompanying sides of potatoes in various forms were good, Aidan had gravy for the first time, and Rowan ate pretty well, with help from a last minute social story written on our magna-doodle.  (Our server wasn't quite sure what to make of that.)  The best part was the fact that Dan had to sit in the birthday saddle while everyone in our section yelled "YEEE-HAW!"  That was worth the trip right there.  We wrapped up a decent evening, eating out with our kids, a rare thing.

Oh....I almost forgot.  Driving out of the parking lot, Rowan realized he had left his presh-us wooden signs at the table.  I wish I had been a fly on the wall to witness my husband, on hands and knees, searching the floor under the table we'd been at, where there was now seated an Asian family who seemed to speak very little English.  They kept saying "sorry" while Dan tried to explain missing tiny wooden traffic signs.  He found them.

Happy Birthday, Dan.  We love you!

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes...

One month ago, I imagined what life would look like at this moment in my life.

I imagined Aidan, off to school, with copious amounts of stress surrounding getting him there and back.

I imagined Dan, bummed at the prospect of losing his job soon.

I imagined Rowan, an anxious wreck over being in preschool full time and having upheaval in his routine (again.)

I imagined myself, overwhelmed by the new job and changes, exhausted, no time to keep up on housework, bills, putting food on the table...and too tired to be a good parent.

Here is where I sit instead:

Aidan is off to school.  Our friends and neighbors have stepped up to help.  He is transported safely, and secure and happy in his after school care.

Dan sees the end coming, but is focused with new resolve and confidence to get his own business going. (Not to mention new gear..he is all set!)

Rowan....oh what do I say about Rowan?  Well adjusted.  Happy.  Confident.  Would I have ever believed he'd ask me to go back to preschool as I was buckling him into the car at the end of the day?  Would I ever have dreamed that we'd make a sudden and rash decision to move him and Aidan into the same room the second week of school?  Lordy, no.  But it's all happening, and it is all so very good.  And WOW does that make everything else easier.

And me?  Yes, the job is overwhelming, and many days I feel like a deer in headlights, BUT, along with it is the realization that last year I was living in a state of "meh."  I feel passion in what I am doing, and MAN, DO I EVER LOVE TEACHING ART!!!!!!  And the crazy thing is, it carries over to all the other parts of my life.  I don't know, maybe I was depressed last year, but having this new job doing what I love motivates me to be a better mom, friend, wife, person.

I feel kind of underwhelmed in my own response to all these changes.  I keep looking around, thinking, "Am I missing something here? Shouldn't I be more stressed out?"  And then I'm like, "STOOPID, enjoy this moment!  You are not running around like a crazy person like you thought you would. Stop worrying about worrying."

And then I sit back, breathe, and ride this glorious wave.  Sometimes change is just what you need.

Three Sides of the Same Coin

It's glaringly obvious to me lately that Rowan has three different personalities.  Just like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but including Mr. Hyde's sad cousin.  I don't know if this is normal for SPD kids, but I do know that with the changes starting to happen in this house as fall schedules approach, it's like spinning a roulette wheel several times a day, waiting to see what you'll get with each change or transition.

Will it be Rowan Number One?  This is the cute, happy, giggly, smiley dude that makes the old ladies in the grocery store melt.  This Rowan gives out copious amounts of hugs, loves to help, listens, chatters incessantly and pretty much all around makes my heart melt.  He appears to be a normal, well-adjusted four year old.  This Rowan, fortunately, seems to be the one he's bringing to preschool most days.  I am thankful for that.  I do wish he'd hang out here more often though.  I hate to pick favorites among my son's split personalities, but I have to admit, this one is my favorite.

Oh, wait, it looks like Rowan Number Two.  This one, I have the most sympathy for.  This little guy appears when there is something scary, especially a loud noise.  He does not like changes in plans or schedules.  He is generally very, very sad or so upset he's been known to scream until the capillaries break on his cheeks.  I can see the loss of control and the flailing to get it back.  This Rowan makes me feel sad and helpless.  Fortunately, as Rowan becomes so very verbal, we see this guy less.

Or...is it the Dreaded Rowan Number Three?  Also known as Naughty Rowan or Rowan in Monkey Mode.  This one can unfold three loads of laundry in 30 seconds, thinks pulling on the dog's ear until he yelps is SUPER hilarious, and will squirt a bottle of lotion on the floor to skate in.  This Rowan will NOT be redirected (he doesn't even like social stories), will laugh when you scold him and runs away when he knows he's being naughty.  He generally makes my blood boil and makes me look like a Bad Parent in public.  He has been showing up around here a lot lately and he is NOT welcome.

Who am I kidding?  They are all part of the child I love, and need to be accepted.  I know who they are in OT language and what it means in the book:  Number One is what we strive for, Number Two is sensory avoiding, and Number Three is sensory seeking.  Easy to read about and understand in a book, but hard to live with.

As I anticipate changes ahead in the next month, I also full on expect this to become harder for a while.  And then, it will level off again as we navigate the ups and downs of living with SPD.  I always used to tell myself that the traits you want in an adult are really hard to have in a young child:  curiosity, passion, determination, the ability to take risks and test boundaries.  Then add in the fact that Rowan is so sensitive, and, according to his ECFE teacher a couple of years ago, "feels feelings bigger than most people."  I believe these traits WILL serve him well as an adult - the world is in need of more sensitive souls who can see the world in a different way.

My little package of personalities is a gift, as hard as it is to live with parts of it.  I continue to focus on the lessons I can learn during the tough times, celebrate the huge gains we've made, and grab the hugs when they are being doled out.

An example of Naughty Rowan, caught green-handed.

Overheard #5

Aidan:  "Ahhh....PERFECT:  A sucker, a guitar, and a comfy chair!"

What I Did on My Summer Vacation

*sigh*

I guess, for me, it's technically over.  I mean, we still have a couple days together, including the State Fair, but my brain has switched over.  I am in School Mode, like it or not.  From here on out, it will occupy my mind and being until June 8, 2012.

I look back on this summer as the Summer of Expecting the Unexpected.  A rainy June, a "part time" job that tied me down more than it was supposed to, a summer of scrambling for caregivers and juggling schedules, a rough start for Rowan.  It's easy to feel just an *eensy* bit disappointed in the Summer of 2011.  But then I think back to what I really did.

This summer I:

• Watched my toddler turn into a Little Boy.
• Watched as my Little Boy turned into a Big Boy.
• Smiled at LOTS of tourists (mostly unwillingly)
• Appreciated the stars.
• Was entertained by backyard musicians under the age of 8.
• Made lots of chalk pictures on the sidewalk.
• Took the training wheels off.
• Picked my share of berries.
• Drank my share of wine and beer with good friends.
• Ate a genuine Kazakhstan cuisine.
• Kept the garden weeded.
• Secretly muttered a prayer of thanks to the summer wind every time I smelled or felt it.
• Threw one kickass four year old birthday party.
• Rose to the occasion with social stories, positive redirection and creative parenting.
• Learned from the times that I didn't rise to the occasion.
• Got my share of giggles and butt-slaps from my cafe coworkers.
• Maintained and grew friendships from the last 2 years.
• Read a bunch of great books.
• Convened with bodies of water.
• Chillaxed on a pontoon.
• Ate at least a dozen s'mores.
• Shampooed a dog.
• Sewed up a storm.
• Followed my heart.

Onward we go, into a new season and a new start in many ways for the whole family.  I start a new job, Dan will self-employed in a month, Rowan will be at a new preschool.  It seems the only thing we can depend on is change, isn't it?  I can't help but feel a little bit like hiding somewhere, while simultaneously motioning that "come here" sign with my fingers while yelling "BRING IT!" to the Universe.

Here is to confidence, balance, and reflection on a Summer well spent.

Overheard #4

Rowan:  Are we going to Nonnie's?

Me: At the end of the week.  In four sleeps.

Rowan: (Goes over to couch and closes eyes,) I'm sleeping!

If At First You Don't Succeed...

Rowan has definitely gone through a shift recently.  Perhaps it was the camping trip, perhaps it is settling into summer, I am not sure.  But another layer seems to have been peeled away.  Here are some things I've noticed:

He suddenly has been very aware of the presence of the "big kids" in the yard, and going out of his way to try to be included.  He has been following them around, chasing them and copying their play.  On that same note, we were at Aidan's soccer practice and Rowan really had to pee.  He insisted on peeing on a tree.  With no porta potties in sight, I brought him near this tree where the kids like to climb, out of sight.  He started to go (splashing my shoe...thanks, little guy) and we heard kids coming.  I told him to hurry up so the kids didn't see.  They showed up as he was finishing.  He looked at them, and in a very apologetic tone said, "Sorry, guys, I just had to pee on a tree. Sorry."  It was so cute.

His own play is so imaginative.  Today he and I were at the park and we drove a car to the digger dirt place, then had to go across the bridge to get to the dirt, then we had to pretend we were diggers and move the dirt into the dump truck.  Then we found a puddle and pretended we saw all kinds of frogs in it and were discussing what they looked like.  It was all led by him and his little imagination.

His language is awesome!  So much expression, intonation, describing words and NONSTOP chatter.  And cute chatter.  He is so dramatic about everything.  Everything is *gasp* "Look at that orange garbage truck."  or *gasp* "It's a butterfly!"  This funny little gasp precedes everything he says.

But the cherry on top of this big sundae was the experience I had outside with him drawing with chalk.  His fine motor skills have always been a bit behind, plus his patience to work on it is nil.  Not to mention, since he's been a baby he's always had a very low frustration level.  I distinctly remember as a six month old, a toy wasn't working the way he wanted and he would scream and throw it.  Up until recently, this is pretty much the way it would go if something frustrated him...screaming or tears.

So, back to the chalk.  I drew a circle and he filled it in with eyes, nose and a mouth.  Then I showed him how to put on a body, arms, and legs.  I drew another circle and he drew the body.  I then encouraged him to draw a circle.  "I can't do it," he said.  "Try!" I encouraged.  He drew one.  Then he drew another.  Then another.  "Bah!" he said in frustration, and drew another.  I realized he was drawing them, but didn't like the way they looked, but he kept trying! "Bah!" he growled again after another.  Then he drew one more, apparently satisfied, drew in the face and body.  This was a BIG DEAL for this mom to see her little boy have patience and persevere through the frustration! I hope this a start of a new trend.

The circles he tried to make...

One all on his own!

We also worked on some letters.

Taking a break to play Road Runner.

Into The Woods - Trip Log

Day 1

Mission: to safely arrive in the Porcupine Mountains, set up camp

Wet/dirty clothes count: 1 pair underwear/shorts lost to a wet slide at the rest stop, 2 pair underwear/shorts lost to slipping and falling on slippery rocks into Lake Superior

Critters Encountered:  Beety the bug, Lake the dragonfly

Ups of the day: mostly good behavior in the car, Rowan imitating a dragonfly, fascinating geology, including what looked like petrified sand,  Rowan immediately dropping his pants to swim as we arrive at the lake, realizing that seeing Lake Superior from a different place is like seeing a new aspect of an old friend.

Downs of the day: Both kids slipping and falling into the lake, a disastrous Rowan bedtime, a not so private campground, the bathroom incident in Ironwood. (Bearing a strong reesemblance to the Hackensack Bathroom Incident.)

Beach at Union Bay Campground

Day 2

Mission: To explore the Porcupine Mountains.

Wet/dirty clothes count: 1 shirt/pair shorts lost to spaghetti sauce.

Critters encountered:  Chipper the chipmunk, Catherine the caterpillar, Beauford the blue dragonfly, Judu the beetle, Squiggly the millipede, Charlie the ant

Ups of the day: Lake of the Clouds overlook, sun, sand and surf, a better campsite, staring into water and fire, silent reverence for stars, Aidan singing "ding dong the witch is dead"on our hike but changing the first letter of every word to a "b."

Downs of the day: waking up after very little sleep.

Lake of the Clouds Overlook

Day 3 (Mushroom and tiny critters day)

Mission: To get out on some hikes

Wet/dirty clothes count: 0

Critters encountered: Fearless Freddy the orange spider, Tiny McCuterson the inchworm, Daddapillar the caterpillar, Mr. Squiggly Smalls the inchworm, Nick the impossibly small micro frog.

Ups of the day: reverence for cathedral trees, Rowan is brave climbing the lookout tower, mushrooms galore and Aidan decides to become a mushroom hunter, amazing views, bats, taking showers, the most amazing thhunderstorm that rolled and rolled with echoes across the mountains.

Downs of the day: mosquitoes, the thunderstorm was lovely, but nerve racking.

Old growth hemlock forest

Summit Peak Overlook

Nick, the micro-frog

Day 4

Mission: To get to Pictured Rocks, find Carrie and Corryn

Dirty/wet clothes count: numerous wet things from packing up in the rain

Critters encountered: Stick, the caterpillar

Ups of the day: getting the last campsite...and a good one, good behavior in the car, wild blueberry treasure, Miners Beach, Miners Castle, the Pictured Rocks, seeing a restaurant called Beef-a-Roo.

Downs of the day: driving forever to find an open campsite, lack of sleep due to thunderstorm, packing up in the rain, not finding our friends, making the mistake of watching Road Runner in the car and then taking our highly imitative child to an area with cliffs where he wanted to play "Road Runner."

Miners Castle

Sand fun at Miners Beach

Stick, the Caterpillar

Day 5

Mission: really find our friends, have more fun exploring

Dirty/wet clothes count: 2 outfits from two boys who wanted to "wade" in Kingston Lake

Critters encountered: Squiggles the Caterpillar, and Murphy, our dog, reunited with his family

Ups of the day: finding Carrie and Corryn, WILD waves at the beach, more blueberries, Miners falls, campfire

Downs of the day: none

"Hey, I'M FOUR!"

Murphy dodging a wild wave

Corryn, Carrie and Murphy

Miners Falls

Day 6

Mission: to move to the same campground as Corryn and Carrie, to be in the water

Wet/dirty clothes count: in swimsuits most of the day, 1 pair of pajamas peed in

Critters encountered: 215,786 black flies, deer flies and horse flies, most named "dammit" "son of a bitch" and "f***"

Ups of the day: Possibly the best campsite at Twelve Mile Beach, clear, Caribbean blue water at the beach, white sand, art gallery rocks, Lake Superior sunset, Inukshuk,  fun and frivolity with friends, the STARS, midnight skinny dip

Downs of the day:  see critters encountered

Jiffy Pop over the fire

Aidan's Inukshuk

Sunset

Day 7

Mission: Head East and explore new parts of the park

Wet/dirty clothes count: not sure, but Rowan is out of socks

Critters encountered: a leech stuck to Rowan's foot, named "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!"

Ups of the day: Discovering dunes and rolling down them, waterfalls, finding fungus amongus with our mushroom book, lazy afternoon at Grand Marais beach, ice cream cones, warm river water at Sable Falls

Downs of the day: Corryn and Carrie went home, Murphy was terrorized by flies all day, kids overtired from fun, sunburned lips, the fact that I will be finding sand in my washing machine for months...possibly years to come.

Positively identified as "Artist's Bracket"

Day 8

Mission: To go home and take the 6 1/2 hour drive easy and relaxed and open minded

Wet/dirty clothes count: none

Critters encountered: none

Ups of the day:  lunch at Beef-a-Roo (come on, we HAD to), the cute park in Michigamee, good boys in the car, getting home at a reasonable hour in time for baths.

Downs of the day: vacation over :(

Overall, it was an awesome trip.  The boys were BORN to camp, and we came back so rested and relaxed with lots of great memories, sand, a little bit of sunburn, and a mushroom book.

FOUR! or How I Disguised A Sensory Diet Activity as a Birthday Party

ROWAN IS FOUR!!!!!

Question:  How do you plan a birthday party for a sensitive child who is easily overwhelmed by noise and activity?

Solution:  Messy Party!  Rowan has always LOVED getting his hands dirty...I guess you could call him sensory seeking it that area.  It honestly has a calming effect on him.  Soooo.... I filled up a bin full of mud, a bin full of shaving cream, a pool full of bubble stuff, pans of paint next to a big white sheet, and a slip and slide full of soap.  I let the kids go to town. Success!  And fun!  I might have to do this again, just for fun!

  The neighborhood crew got the party started.  Rowan and I came out to find the three older kids with the shaving cream in their hair and on their faces.  I panicked and shouted, "No!  Not in your....oh wait, messy party, carry on."  It was kind of a relief to let go of that.

Painting sheets, selves and each other.

Aidan wants his own messy party!

Shaving cream makes for good hairdos.

A messy hug from the birthday boy.

I think my favorite part of the party was when we were about to sing Happy Birthday, Rowan was the one to start the song.

Yes, that is a dirt and worms dessert in a dump truck.

Happy birthday little Rowie Bear!!!!!

Birthday Emergencies

Just in case you were concerned that the cake might light on fire, or that someone might steal the presents, or that someone might get hurt, don't worry.  The birthday boy is prepared.  This is how we found him sleeping on the eve of his fourth birthday.  All is safe and well.  Age on, little boy. :)

The Look

I don't know why parents are so self conscious about what other people think of our parenting.  We just are.  There are so many styles and methods out there, and though I have always been confident in trusting my intuition over books and methods, I can't help but sometimes wonder if I'm doing it right.

And then there's parenting a kid with SPD.  How do you explain his behavior to strangers?  I can't even explain it to myself at times.  I've toyed with making him a set of t-shirts that say things like "Caution: Overly Sensitive Child" or "Please Don't Talk to Me."  There have been a couple times where I've almost told strangers he's autistic, just because that makes a lot more sense to people than "Oh, sorry, he's got a neurological disorder that impairs his ability to process sensory stimuli in the usual way."  Even the term "sensory issues" doesn't work, as I noted to myself in our last dentist visit.  The hygienist acknowledged it when I said it, and then pretty much did all the things you shouldn't do to a kid with SPD at the dentist, such as rushing him and tipping back the chair without warning him.

Because of this, I am used to "the look."  That raised eyebrow, hairy eyeball kind of stare that you get when your kid takes his shoes off and refuses to put them back on at the restaurant.  Or you are sitting on him in the checkout line.  Or he has just hit another child for not playing the game the right way. (Oh, that was horrible.  I think I apologized 327 times.)  Along with the look comes under the breath muttered comments.  Such as the lady at the McDonald's Playland who did not appreciate Rowan's loud sustained high pitched (happy) scream.  "Jesus," she said, "Someone needs to get that kid out of here."  I shot my own look at her, and briefly thought about educating her.  Bah.  Not worth the effort.  I've become much like the duck getting water thrown at it.  I just let it roll off my back.  I know what I need to do for my kid, and it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks.

Imagine my delight when I got the opposite look yesterday.  We were swimming at the river and Rowan was being SO happy, chatty and social.  He was swimming up to strangers and making all kinds of friends.  I later found out that he had offered his name, age and the fact that he had a birthday coming up to a couple of moms.  He was also encouraging a 4 year old girl, who was fearful of the water, to go swimming.  And apparently being really sweet about it.  This is the kid who usually won't talk to any strangers, let alone answer questions.  One mom in particular kept smiling at me and giving me a look that said, "How cute, charming, and polite your child is!"  And though I try not to put too much weight in those looks, I let this one count.

Summer in the Key of Rain

Summer is not what I expected it to be so far this year.

It started off with the news of a new job, the knowledge that I wouldn't be "tied down" by my summer job at the cafe, and the prospect of sunny days ahead.  It started on a high note.

Then it rained.  And rained, and rained and rained.  When it wasn't raining, it was cold and foggy.  A gray cloud hung over our fair city for what seemed like a month.  And then it moved into our house.   And my brain.  I have a serious case of bad-itude.

If living with a child with SPD has taught me anything, it is to expect the unexpected.  Know there will be ups and downs, and there is no such thing as a consistent pattern or cycle.  I assumed summer would be easy for my little guy: so much freedom, and fun and running around.  You know what they say, when you assume, you make a...well, you know.

Turns out that the same kid who needed the structure and routine during the school year also needs it for summer too.  Huh, go figure.  Wasn't the case last summer.  But then again, it didn't rain for 453 days straight.  I've been bitten 5 times, scratched about 15 times, kicked, screamed at, and am thinking about buying a helmet for Aidan and also one for the dog.  Loss of control has ensued.

After about 7 days of being cooped up, we ventured out to the local children's museum.  It was filled with crabby kids and their crabby parents, who obviously were feeling much like us.  Another day we went to the library, where just as we arrived a daycare full of crabby kids and their crabby providers poured in. The weather got the best of all of us.  Dan came home at the end of one of those days and I think I was catatonic.  I had reached the low point of my bad-itude.

But, as always, when you reach the low, you can only go up.  I have a plan.  Picture schedules and social story notebooks have resumed their positions in the rooms of our house.  One expert told us if your child seems like they're doing better, DON'T put the social stories and supports away.  They are doing better because the supports are working.  I ignored this advice and resolve to not do so again.

I am not the person with the plan, usually, but now I will have to be.  Lounge around in our jammies time this summer will be replaced by get 'em up and get 'em out.  We had an almost nice day yesterday (over 50 degrees, not raining).  My goal was to not be home all day.  Mission accomplished.  It was busy, and a lot of work, but MAN, did we have a hill of fun AND brotherly love.

I have my plan in place, my goal is set.  I will turn this negative cycle and bad-itude around.  Now, I just need the sun to come out.  (Oh, man...was that thunder?)

Hoping to see more fire truck and bike washes in the front yard soon!

The Big Decision

My 7 year old goes to the Greatest School in the World.  I mean the Greatest.  I have never seen such an amazing community of teachers, families and students who truly care for one another.  I am now faced with the decision to either 1.) Keep Aidan at North Shore or 2.) Transfer him to the school I just got hired at.  Still working on the pros and cons.  Here's what I have so far.

North Shore Pros:
Greatest School in the World
His best friend goes there
He will LOVE his second grade teacher
Will not scar him for life by changing schools (this happened to me in second grade)
Selfishly want to keep him there to stay in touch with friends and former co-workers
Secretly hope art teacher will quit so I can have her job, and wouldn't lose Aidan's spot (not likely)
Greatest School in the World

North Shore Cons:
Long drive - how to get him back and forth
Our breaks will not coincide
Not having him with me at school
Really tough class in general, kids wise

Edison Pros:
Same breaks
No transportation issues = serious convenience
Have him with me at school
Differentiated reading - the kid is a high flyer and honestly was not challenged AT ALL last year
Uniforms = no more clothing battles (a serious issue in our house...what is he, like a 15 year old girl?)
Snowflake Nordic right next door - ski dates with my son!
Spanish!

Edison Cons:
Scar him for life?
More behavior issues at Edison, tough on him?  But he is in a naughty class already and holds his own
Doesn't know a soul there
So many unknowns: will I give up a great community?  What if we don't like his teacher?
No Environmental ed.

Weigh in, people.  I think I've made up my mind one way, and then it changes.  I need your advice.

Overheard #3

Rowan, standing outside the bathroom:(Gasp!) Lookitdat! It's bee-yooo-tee-ful!!!

Me, walking to where he is: (thinking what? Something shiny? A butterfly? A picture?) What? What is beautiful?

Rowan: That! It's SO BEAUTIFUL!! (points at package of generic toilet paper.)

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I guess.

SPD Blog!

I've been looking for something like this blog.

http://www.spdbloggernetwork.com/

I've only read a few posts, but I can relate to so many of them!

Hopefully contributing soon!

When One Door Closes...

...or reflections on the night before I leave a bunch of people and a place that I truly love.

Let my preface this by saying I've had my teaching license for 10 years.  In those ten years, I have taught in seven schools in five districts.  Laid off, re-hired, art on a cart, years of uncertainty.  The Golden Year was my year as a long term sub at North Shore Community School, where, with the right support (finally) I realized my full potential as an art teacher.  Right after being super close to just throwing in the towel.  This last year, as a special ed. para at NSCS was my first year NOT teaching in some capacity.  My friend Julie called it my "Detour For Rowan" year, which is pretty much it.  Much of what I learned this year, I was able to use to help him.  I was a better mom because of my job.  Universe, I acknowledge that.  Thanks.

Tuesday morning I accepted The Job I Have Been Looking For.  It's at Duluth Edison Charter School, full time, elementary level, and in a school that is growing - no sign of layoffs or cut time in the future.  Really though, what I need to tell is how I found out I was chosen for the job.

Monday, I was on a field trip to the Great Lakes Aquarium with 45 first graders.  I knew the call was coming that day.  Indeed, there was the message, waiting for me as we exited the Aquarium.  The kids were at the park, soon to be headed for Dairy Queen, and I was encouraged by my colleagues (including Julie) to just go to the car and make my calls.  The message left was the head of school, calling to "talk with" me about the position.  I called back, no answer.  Left a message, basically saying I was on a field trip but would do my best to answer the phone.  Then I headed to DQ to meet the bus.

My little friend that I work with has high functioning autism, and the kid is a hoot.  He was among the 45 kidlets.  At DQ, well into ice cream cones, a couple of classmates put ketchup on their ice cream.  This sent my little friend into a tizzy.  He was gagging and freaking out, and eventually, threw up in his mouth.  I took him to the bathroom to fix the problem and all was good again, except we just couldn't be inside with ice cream ketchup anymore.

We headed outside and sat at a table, admiring the signs in the area (one of my little friend's favorite things) when the phone rang and I realized it was Edison.  I asked my little friend if he thought he could stay quiet while I took the call and he nodded seriously.  He sat, little round cheeks, big brown eyes, hands folded watching me while I took the call.  It was the job offer.  I took in the information, and while doing so, noticed Julie looking at me out the window with a "What???" look.  I gave her a thumbs up and mouthed the words "I got the job!"  I didn't accept right away, but gave my email to receive more info and asked the usual questions.  As I was still talking, Julie burst out the front doors sobbing.  This caught my now calm little friend off guard and sent him into yet another tizzy.  So here I am talking to my new boss, with an emotional friend trying to calm down an autistic kid in a tizzy.  Autistic tizzies are hard.  Anyway, I quickly wrapped up my call, and when I hung up, Julie threw her arms around me and said "Congratulations!" and my little friend, without missing a beat, continued, "...to the flag of the United States of America."  Which almost made me not want to accept the job, for to give up such moments.  Sigh.  But I did.

But I do need to say, NSCS is something special.  An amazing sense of community, so much support, so much love.  I don't think it can ever be topped.  I always wanted to teach in a school like that, and I wish my new job was there.  And my one year as a teacher there helped me see all that I can be.  And as far as this year goes,  I liked being a para, I didn't love it.  Teaching art, I feel so much passion for my job.  The kids inspire me again and again.  Sometimes you just know what you were born to do, and you gotta do it.

I will miss NSCS, and I know that several of the relationships I have forged will be there for good, even if the job isn't there.  I went in, I felt the love, I spread the love.  Mission Accomplished.

(Now who is going to help me make the decision about whether to keep Aidan there, or send him to the new school?)

Spring Fling

Man, what a slacker I've been on this blog thing.  It seems the spring wind has come and taken all my motivation away.

Actually,  there are two reasons why I haven't posted.

1.  I always expect spring to be "easy."  Every year I am wrong.  Both Dan and I have had job interviews in the last 2 weeks, school craziness is wrapping up with all of its extra get togethers and whatnot, plus my toes are getting back into working at the Cafe.  Where has all this time gone?  (Oh, and I've been playing, as per previous post.)

2.  I find my sense of humor and quick wit fires faster with adversity and stress, of which there is little around here.  Really.  We're busy, but not fried to the max like we were this winter.  When life is "normal" I'm just not funny anymore.

More on the job opportunities later.  No reason to report anything if nothing pans out.

Now it's time to brag.  Stop reading now if you hate it when parents go on and on about how great their kids are.  Really, it's pretty shameless.

The boys are doing great.  Rowan's expressive language is now blossoming to the point where he is saying things like "Of course" and "actually."  He rode a horse (with me) yesterday.  We're actively seeking out good fit preschools for him (more on that later.)  He's somehow gotten past the making friends and having trouble with social interaction roadblock.  And it seems like now that he's got that figured out, he's really good at it.  He is a super good friend, great at sharing and taking turns.  He still flips out once in a while, but what 3 year old doesn't?

Aidan is amazing me as well.  He's finally picked up the guitar, and hasn't put it down since.  Just like the drums and piano, he just figures stuff out by watching a listening.  We got this silly app on the ipad called Stack the States.  He plays it for fun.  The other day he named 48/50 states on a blank map.  His reading ability is blowing me away.

I feel like the stage is set for a great summer ahead. There may be some changes ahead with jobs and schools, but for now I am reveling in this feeling of contentment and comfort.  We all know how fleeting that feeling can be.  I can't remember where it came from, but the quote "Live the life you love, Love the life you live" popped into my head out of nowhere today.  Done and done.

Let the Revolution Begin

So, again, I am inspired by another Katrina Kenison book.   This time it is Mitten Strings For God.  It's basically a book she wrote when her kids were little, to help her be mindful to SLOW DOWN and simplify.  The writing may be a bit flowery and idealistic, but I get it.


It's really no wonder there is this thing called Sensory Processing Disorder.  And why it seems kids are getting less able to entertain themselves, and why parents seem more stressed.  There is just SO MUCH being thrown at them, at us.

I can remember as a kid having the whole cul-de-sac neighborhood as free reign.  We'd play kick the can, moonlight starlight and capture the flag until the 9:00 siren would go off, and then we knew it was time to go home.  I'm not sure what my parents were doing, but they sure didn't seem worried.  I don't remember having homework until 5th or 6th grade.  (Aidan had homework in kindergarten.)

I feel overwhelmed by how much we are scheduled in doing stuff.  In a story similar to one in Mitten Strings, by the time we got to Halloween this year, my kids had been in their costumes four times at four different events.  And we had skipped two parties.  I was relieved in December when our school decided not to have a Holiday music program this year: one less thing to do.

As I am reading this book, I am realizing that we as a culture are so focused on creating these amazing experiences for our kids, trying to keep them happy, that we are overlooking the real fun of simple, ordinary, everyday life.  We seem to be teaching kids to keep expecting bigger and better, and not letting them just  see what life will just bring to them.

While I've never rented a bouncy castle for a party, I am guilty of this as any other parent.  We went WAY overboard at Christmas this year, and I regretted it.  There are events, parties and other experiences I keep throwing at my kids that they don't need.  But slowly, as I learn to listen to Rowan and recognize the signs of overload, I am learning to say no.  Yep, we went to the birthday party today.  The Aquarium was loud and busy and I spent 20 minutes of it in a quiet, abandoned meeting room.  The old me would have pined away for the fact that Rowan wasn't playing with his friends. The new me saw that he and I were having a nice quiet moment together, and that he had found a pretty nice way to regroup so he could return to the party. (Which he did.)

I am starting a revolution.

First, it starts with assassinating the person who had the idea of putting candy bars by checkout counters.

Then, it moves on to building blanket forts.

Having cereal for dinner more often, so we can play outside together.

More cookie baking.  There will definitely be more cookie baking.

No more t.v. shows with commercials. (Oh, wait, I did that already.)

Dance parties.  Every Saturday.  If we feel like it.

No more than 3 kids invited to birthday parties.

Less stuff at Christmas and more snowmen/ice skating.

I may also assassinate the really annoying sports parents.  You know, the ones who yell at their 7 year old at t-ball games?  Those people have to go.  If my kid wants to build mountains in the dirt in outfield, or pick grass during a soccer game, he can.

Dora?  Also on the assassination list.

Oh, and those people who took Bob the Builder and changed it from a cute show about working together into a show about being naughty and nasty?  On the list.

Also, the people who destroyed Sesame Street.

Okay, maybe I'll stop assassinating people and just bring back Mr. Rogers.

And write a letter to all the people making kids shows and tell them to stop trying to teach my kids so much stuff.  They get plenty of that at school, and from me.  What ever happened to Wile E. Coyote falling off the cliff fifteen times, anyway?

Camping.  More of that.

Important people/characters of the revolution: The kids next door, Skippyjon Jones, The Boxcar Children, Grover, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Pirates, The Laurie Berkner Band, The Barenaked Ladies kid's CD and our dog.

Oh, and I'd like to resolve that when friends stop by, they will frequently find me wearing a superhero cape, a pirate eye patch or acting like a cat/dog.  Important part of the revolution.

Anyway, you get it.  Basically, more of what I had as a child, and less of this pushy business.

Anyone care to join?

The Hackensack Bathroom Incident of 2011

This blog post is brought to you by Dyson, makers of the loudest *+%#$@ hand dryers in the world, which made my young son terrified of bathroom fans, and hence, terrified of most public bathrooms.

This wasn't much of an issue until we were potty trained. Now, well, it is.

My Mom, Rowan and I had a nice trip to Hackensack today. We had a little shopping to do, and decided to go out to lunch. We had perfect restaurant behavior out of Rowan, which was awesome. We tried to get Rowan to go potty at the restaurant, but he had no interest. (Fan....too scary.)

Next, we went to a secondhand store next to the restaurant. It was nicely equipped with two bathrooms, both with fans. You could tell he was starting to NEED to go. I didn't push it, and hoped our last stop would have a fan-less bathroom.

As we walked into the Hackensack co-op, a sign on the door greeted us: No public restroom available. Oh, this could be bad. Of course, we were not in the door 2 minutes, when Rowan informs me has has to go potty. I looked pleadingly at an employee standing nearby and she directed me toward an employee bathroom in the back.

The Hackensack Co-op is not very big. The bathroom, possibly the smallest in the world besides the one at our house, is situated in this back room in an area where employees, mostly older folks who are volunteering, are packaging food on nearby countertops. Besides being small, the bathroom had this weird step you had to go up, making the toilet look very much like a throne. Did I also mention that though the bathroom was in the back, it was very noticeable from one area of the store? These details are important later.

One flip of the light switch, and I knew I was screwed. Fan. Crap. I tried to convince him to cover his ears. No go. Lots of whining, starting to shriek. Am employee convinced me it was okay to leave to door open. I was not sure I wanted everyone in the store to see my kid's naked parts standing on this stage of a bathroom, but what choice did I have? I wedged the wastebasket into the door, which for some reason really ticked Rowan off. More shrieking. I removed the wastebasket and looked around for another tool to prop open the door. I kicked off my shoe and wedged it in. This seemed to make him happier, until he started shrieking "Take my jacket off!!!"

Did you know it's really hard to take a jacket off of a panicking 3 year old who will not take his fingers out of his ears? (And, no, the fan/light was not on, but he needed backup just in case I guess.)

One shoe off, lights off, loud panicked child, feeling like I am on stage, hmmm...what could we add here to make this more fun? Oh, I KNOW, the Well Meaning Stranger. Can I just say I hate these people? I know they want to help, but really, saying "It's better than having wet pants!" to my child in a cheery voice a dozen times is not helpful. (This was one of the employees just outside the door.) I have often wondered how I could make some happy little cards to hand to these people to shut them up. It could say "Overly Sensitive Child, do not engage in conversation please," or "This child has issues, please do not speak to him when he is upset." Plus maybe I could find some pocket copies of The Out of Sync Child to hand out to these folks. Knowledge is power, after all.

Flustered now, feeling like my body temp is about 250 degrees, face beet red, I yank Rowan's pants down (he is of no help with fingers in his ears) and try to lean him forward to pee standing up. More shrieking. He wants to sit down. Backwards. This means removal off all clothing from the waist down, including, for some reason, socks. ("It's better that having wet pants!" I hear sung through the door cheerily.) At this point, I prove that patience is not an endless well. I raise my voice, start ripping off Rowan's clothes, and even threw his boot at the wall. The employee sings her little mantra again.

Luckily, my superhero (my mom) sensed things were not going well. (I suspect at this point most people in the store sensed this as well.) Rowan at this point was seated a peeing, but she managed to calm us both down and put the situation back together.

Clothed, bladder emptied, mostly calmed down, Rowan and my mom and I processed out of the back room. "It's better than having wet pants!" my new friend chirped.

I barely remember saying it, but apparently I replied "At this point I am not so sure about that."

Culinary Delights

Scene: Bedtime, rocking chair

Me: I Love you soooo much, I could eat you!  Can I eat you?
Rowan: (giggle) No!
M: I want to make a Rowie hair salad.
R: (giggle) No!
M: Cheesy Rowie earlobes.
R: (giggle)
M: A Rowie toe sandwich!
R: (giggle giggle)
M: Noodles and Rowie bellybuttons!
R: (giggle giggle laugh) No!
M: Rowie nose soup!
R: (giggle)

Quiet, rocking for a while.

Rowan: BUTT CAKE!!!!!!!
Me: (can't help myself) (giggle)
R: BUTT CAKE!  BUTT CAKE! BUTT CAKE! (giggle giggle laugh laugh laugh)

Refer to the giggle video below to see how the rest of bedtime went.  He's up there now, still giggling.

Sonshine

We were on a little family hike about a week ago.  It was one of those weird spring days, where the lamb is trying to kick out the lion.  Still snow on the ground, but sunshine lingering later in the day, less need for mittens and hats.  Snow boots weren’t good for keeping out the wet, rain boots weren’t warm enough.  We opted for the latter, our feet were cold.  But we still had fun.  There were so many snowmelt waterfalls to look at and fun patches of slush and mud to pad around in.

While we were hiking along, Dan commented on my mood.

“You seem a lot more upbeat lately.”  He attributed it to a possible job opportunity that I am applying for.

“Nah...really I think it’s really the return of the sun.”

“It’s great to have him back, isn’t it?”

He thought I meant SON.  Or maybe it was one of his cute play on words, which he is good at.

Regardless, I am really confident in Rowan’s progress these days.  Indeed, it does seem like he has returned.  I asked Dan last night, “When was the last time you saw him hit, bite, kick, scratch or throw something?”  He couldn’t remember.  Today Rowan came home all out crabby and whiny.  Lots of things made him mad, things that even a month ago, would have destroyed dinner, left me shaken and unsure of my parenting, and derailed him for the remainder of the night.  Tonight he weathered his bad mood without any meltdowns or tantrums...a true test.  A tickle fight with Dad turned his mood around.

An acquaintance of mine mentionedtoday how the return of spring feels.  “You’re like, Oh thank GOD I made it through again.  Somehow I survived it.”  Amen.  Amen to the sun shining and the son shining.

I know that Rowan is like the seasons, and there is a strong probability of darker times ahead.  For now I will wear my tank top on 60 degree days, turn my face to the light, shed my shoes, and go out and play with sidewalk chalk.

I Never Thought I Would.....

....have to apologize to the daycare provider because my child is pretending to pee on other children.

....see the fact that my child is pretending to pee on other children as a good sign and progress because he is acting like a normal little boy.

....look in the backseat to find my 7 year old with his shirt off in March.  Explanation:  Easier to make armpit farts.

....have my child walk in on me while I was going to the bathroom and remind me "tuck in your wiener."

...be scolded at the table by both my children for potty talk. (All these boys are a BAD influence.)

Rock N Roll

Still performing.  What else is there to say?

Dinnertime Giggles

Most parents would put a stop to these dinnertime shenanigans, but two months ago, dinnertime used to be the WORST time of day for Rowan.  Think lots of screaming.  I will welcome these giggles.  What I didn't get on here was when I burped and both boys completely LOST it.  Aidan was rolling on the floor laughing.  Something tells me my friends with daughters do not experience this.

Lamentations

Not normally a cut and paste sort of person, but this was just sent to me, and it is FUN-NEE! Enjoy!

Lamentations of the Father
by Ian Frazier

Laws Concerning Food and Drink
The beasts of the field, and of the fishes of the sea, and of all foods that are acceptable in my sight you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the hoofed animals, broiled or ground into burgers, you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the cloven-hoofed animal, plain or with cheese, you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the cereal grains, of the corn and of the wheat and of the oats, and of all the cereals that are of bright color and unknown provenance you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the quiescently frozen dessert and of all frozen after-meal treats you may eat, but absolutely not in the living room. Of the juices and other beverages, yes, even of those in sippy-cups, you may drink, but not in the living room, neither may you carry such therein. Indeed, when you reach the place where the living room carpet begins, of any food or beverage there you may not eat, neither may you drink.
But if you are sick, and are lying down and watching something, then may you eat in the living room.

Laws When at Table
And if you are seated in your high chair, or in a chair such as a greater person might use, keep your legs and feet below you as they were. Neither raise up your knees, nor place your feet upon the table, for that is an abomination to me. Yes, even when you have an interesting bandage to show, your feet upon the table are an abomination, and worthy of rebuke. Drink your milk as it is given you, neither use on it any utensils, nor fork, nor knife, nor spoon, for that is not what they are for; if you will dip your blocks in the milk, and lick it off, you will be sent away. When you have drunk, let the empty cup then remain upon the table, and do not bite it upon its edge and by your teeth hold it to your face in order to make noises in it sounding like a duck; for you will be sent away.
When you chew your food, keep your mouth closed until you have swallowed, and do not open it to show your brother or your sister what is within; I say to you, do not so, even if your brother or your sister has done the same to you. Eat your food only; do not eat that which is not food; neither seize the table between your jaws, nor use the raiment of the table to wipe your lips. I say again to you, do not touch it, but leave it as it is. And though your stick of carrot does indeed resemble a marker, draw not with it upon the table, even in pretend, for we do not do that, that is why. And though the pieces of broccoli are very like small trees, do not stand them upright to make a forest, because we do not do that, that is why. Sit just as I have told you, and do not lean to one side or the other, nor slide down until you are nearly slid away. Heed me; for if you sit like that, your hair will go into the syrup. And now behold, even as I have said, it has come to pass.

Laws Pertaining to Dessert
For we judge between the plate that is unclean and the plate that is clean, saying first, if the plate is clean, then you shall have dessert. But of the unclean plate, the laws are these: If you have eaten most of your meat, and two bites of your peas with each bite consisting of not less than three peas each, or in total six peas, eaten where I can see, and you have also eaten enough of your potatoes to fill two forks, both forkfuls eaten where I can see, then you shall have dessert. But if you eat a lesser number of peas, and yet you eat the potatoes, still you shall not have dessert; and if you eat the peas, yet leave the potatoes uneaten, you shall not have dessert, no, not even a small portion thereof. And if you try to deceive by moving the potatoes or peas around with a fork, that it may appear you have eaten what you have not, you will fall into iniquity. And I will know, and you shall have no dessert.

On Screaming
Do not scream; for it is as if you scream all the time. If you are given a plate on which two foods you do not wish to touch each other are touching each other, your voice rises up even to the ceiling, while you point to the offense with the finger of your right hand; but I say to you, scream not, only remonstrate gently with the server, that the server may correct the fault. Likewise if you receive a portion of fish from which every piece of herbal seasoning has not been scraped off, and the herbal seasoning is loathsome to you, and steeped in vileness, again I say, refrain from screaming. Though the vileness overwhelm you, and cause you a faint unto death, make not that sound from within your throat, neither cover your face, nor press your fingers to your nose. For even now I have made the fish as it should be; behold, I eat of it myself, yet do not die.


Concerning Face and Hands
Cast your countenance upward to the light, and lift your eyes to the hills, that I may more easily wash you off. For the stains are upon you; even to the very back of your head, there is rice thereon. And in the breast pocket of your garment, and upon the tie of your shoe, rice and other fragments are distributed in a manner wonderful to see. Only hold yourself still; hold still, I say. Give each finger in its turn for my examination thereof, and also each thumb. Lo, how iniquitous they appear. What I do is as it must be; and you shall not go hence until I have done.

Various Other Laws, Statutes, and Ordinances
Bite not, lest you be cast into quiet time. Neither drink of your own bath water, nor of bath water of any kind; nor rub your feet on bread, even if it be in the package; nor rub yourself against cars, nor against any building; nor eat sand.
Leave the cat alone, for what has the cat done, that you should so afflict it with tape? And hum not that humming in your nose as I read, nor stand between the light and the book. Indeed, you will drive me to madness. Nor forget what I said about the tape.

Complaints and Lamentations
O my children, you are disobedient. For when I tell you what you must do, you argue and dispute hotly even to the littlest detail; and when I do not accede, you cry out, and hit and kick. Yes, and even sometimes do you spit, and shout "stupid-head" and other blasphemies, and hit and kick the wall and the molding thereof when you are sent to the corner. And though the law teaches that no one shall be sent to the corner for more minutes than he has years of age, yet I would leave you there all day, so mighty am I in anger. But upon being sent to the corner you ask straightaway, "Can I come out?" and I reply, "No, you may not come out." And again you ask, and again I give the same reply. But when you ask again a third time, then you may come out.
Hear me, O my children, for the bills they kill me. I pay and pay again, even to the twelfth time in a year, and yet again they mount higher than before. For our health, that we may be covered, I give six hundred and twenty talents twelve times in a year; but even this covers not the fifteen hundred deductible for each member of the family within a calendar year. And yet for ordinary visits we still are not covered, nor for many medicines, nor for the teeth within our mouths. Guess not at what rage is in my mind, for surely you cannot know.

For I will come to you at the first of the month and at the fifteenth of the month with the bills and a great whining and moan. And when the month of taxes comes, I will decry the wrong and unfairness of it, and mourn with wine and ashtrays, and rend my receipts. And you shall remember that I am that I am: before, after, and until you are twenty-one. Hear me then, and avoid me in my wrath, O children of me.

The Haircut

BEFORE

AFTER - okay the bangs are a little crooked, but read
the above stuff, and you'll see why.

I thought it went pretty well considering:

1. I've never cut hair before.

2. The only person who has ever cut his hair is in Florida.

3. After the first snip, Rowan started screaming "ONLY ON PAPER!!!!" (I wish he'd remembered this scissors rule when he cut up the couch cover last year....)

4. He screamed through the whole rest of the haircut.

5. Jellybean bribes did not stop the screaming.

6.  There was a giant dreadlock in the back which had taken prisoners.

7. I had just ingested a double cold-press mocha and was very jittery (the caffeine high was what made me attempt this in the first place.)