Unique Like Everyone Else

Coin a Phrase

I was lounging this past weekend, flipping through the latest issue of Real Simple magazine. 

First off, can I just point out how fashion forward I am with the bed linens that perfectly coordinate with the color trends featured on the magazine cover?  Lol!

 

Usually I breeze past the ads, but this one caught me off guard and by surprise:

 

Apparently J-Boy has been moonlighting as a marketing exec for Origins cosmetics! 

 

He came up with the term "Night-a-mins" when he was 7 years old to distinguish the Flinstone chewables variety from the medication he was taking before bed to help with some of the extreme behaviors he was demonstrating due to his then recent diagnosis of autism.  He is always so clever with word play! 

It was a very difficult decision to put J-Boy on medication.  At the time, he had just been diagnosed, and our family was in crisis.  Not because of the diagnosis; that news was actually a blessing.  The diagnosis gave us a a name for what we were dealing with, as well as much needed  direction in educating ourselves and seeking guidance in parenting this unique kid who totally defied our parenting instincts and the practices that had worked so beautifully with J-Girl.  We loved J-Boy and were afraid that any medication would squelch all the fun-loving personality he had, and leave us with an empty shell.  But, his emotional breakdowns kept us walking on eggshells, never knowing what might unleash the Tasmanian Devil that whirled through the house, injuring himself, his sister, me, and any number of material objects including mirrors, cameras, cutting boards, etc. 

The low dose medicine was to target the "frequency, intensity, and duration" of J-Boy's daily, Defcon 1 level, 2 hour tantrums.   And the plan made with his doctor was that this was a temporary solution that would allow J-Boy some inner peace and calm that would be a condusive state in which to learn some coping skills.  We decided we would try it, with baited breath and a skeptic eye, ready to pull the plug on the experiment if we did not like the effects we were seeing.  We were pleasantly surprised.  While his behaviors weren't eliminated, they were definitely de-escalated. 

And now, J-Boy no longer takes Night-a-mins.  He has matured and grown, and has gained so much poise and control.  I was so afraid of losing him behind a veil of drugs.  But we never did.  He was more lost to us when he was struggling, so miserable with emotions and feelings that were bigger than he was, bigger than any of the tools he had to work with.  We look upon the skills he's learned with the same pride as his learning to walk, or ride a bike.  It's like we took off the emotional training wheels and he's cruising along on his own, with the occasional look back smile that says, "Look, Mom!  No hands!" 

Ten Years Later

Remembrance at J-Girl's school

 

It is hard to believe that ten years have past since the 9/11 tragedy.  The news coverage this morning was solemn and beautiful.  The monuments dedicated to those who innocently and heroically lost their lives, are lovely and dignified.  I want to visit them someday.  I can't imagine having lived through any of that chaos. 

I didn't know anyone who died there.  I don't know anyone who knew anyone who was a victim.  I was tying my shoes when the second tower was hit, when it became startling clear that this was no accident.  I went running.  Running.  The world was literally crashing down on people and I went running.  I had a 3 mile course that I was doing back then.  And I ran it with ease that day.  Because my adrenaline was pulsing, and with each pound of my foot on the pavement I chanted a mantra for Peace. 

I laid a hand on each of the parked cars that I passed.  Strangers' cars.  And yet, my neighbors' cars, my countrymen's cars.  I felt the connectedness that is between all people.  I knew in my heart that we would heal as a nation, as a world.  I felt that the passage of time would bring a scarred toughness that allowed us to move forward, yet not let us forget.  

So, when I listened to names being read today, when I heard family members recounting their loss and how fresh and gaping their wounds still feel, I cried.  And I realize that it may take 100 years.  And I would like to see the world then.

Sometimes My Brilliance Astounds Me

We are only two weeks into the school year, and already I am bored with making lunches for the kids.  Especially J-Boy.  In addition to having a narrow palette of foods he finds acceptable or even tolerable, when you add the persnickety/perfectionist aspect of presentation, I am limited even further by what will travel well in his soft-sided lunchbox.  While we've come a LONG way, I can't tell you how many cereal bars I ate when he was under the age of 5 that were "ruined" because they broke in half before he was able to take the first bite.

J-Girl adopted a bento-box style lunch carrier, from Laptop Lunches, a couple years ago.  At first I found the constraints of the hard sided partitions and case to be annoying, but soon I learned to love it.  I can't talk J-Boy into using one, though.  Even with his love of things Japanese.  If they made a digital one, he would probably be into it, for the greatest thing to come out of Japan for him is video games.  If I could download meals to get him some HP ("Health Points" = strength, energy in video games), that would be awesome!

So, back to the boredom...I decided to spread peanut butter between graham cracker squares to change up the ol' PB&J.  When I thought about how they would fare in the lunchbox, though, I pictured a sticky mass of crumbs that would never get eaten.  My problem was that I didn't have an available plastic reusable container that the graham crackers could fit in.

What I DID have, however, was the box that the graham crackers came in! 

 

VICTORY!!

Fond Farewell

I saw something amazing yesterday morning when I went to pick up the farm box.  A bunch of Canada geese (not Canadian geese; stay tuned for a post on that) were lined up along the edge of the pond of a little waterfront community near our neighborhood.  The geese were stately and grand, perfectly aligned on the bank of the water.  It looked as if someone was on the bridge giving a speech, for they were attentive and had an air of purpose.  I was so bummed that I didn't have my camera with me.  It seemed such an unnatural scene, the order taken by these wild animals.  And yet, it was more natural, more by Nature than I yet realized.

 

 

I hurried back after collecting my organic veggies, remembering that I could use the camera on my phone.  Hoping I would not be too late, I half expected that I'd witnessed a freak phenomenon, that they would all be randomly scattered across the grass pecking out breakfast from the lawn.  I was so close, a block away, when I saw them fly overhead, a perfect V-formation heading south for the winter.  An awesome, awesome sight! 

 

Bon voyage, my feathered friends!  See you in the Spring!

 

Since I didn't have my camera and missed the opportunity to snap pictures with my phone, I decided to come home and make some art about my experience.  I am a water-fowl dork fan, and seeing this totally trumped my celebrity sighting of a favorite morning news show anchor the night before, and let me tell you, I was pretty giddy over that!  

 

 

In making this page, I just "went for it".  And started hating it--I nixed the idea of making a two-page 8x8 spread for my "pets" album, then started to regret that I was mixing two different styles of  painting on one layout.  But I continued on, and I'm glad I did.  Now that it's done, I can see tht the two styles relate to how I saw the two different scenes.  I saw the geese staging at the edge of the pond while at a stop light.  I had the luxury of taking in details.  When I saw them flying overhead, it was more a glimpse, a brief snapshot as I ducked forward to see them out of my front windshield as they passed, no time to study the elements of the scene.

 

I knew I wanted to stamp the images of the geese, to emphasize their sameness.  I found a picture of a Canada goose stamp on Google (the artist accredited only as "April"; thanks, April!) And printed out multiple copies that I stamped with a snowflake to add some stippled color.

 

Even with a bunch of them cut out,  they looked weird on the layout.  So, I glued one to some craft foam, cut around it, then glued that to a second piece of craft foam to create an actual stamp.  I applied paint, stamped, reapplied paint, stamped, etc. around the rim of the pond.

 

 

I stamped the houses with randomly cut shapes of craft foam.  The grass was dabbed on with scrunched up bubble wrap. 

So, I'm continuing to obsess about these big ol' birds, looking at migration maps on the internet, wondering where they are headed as Southern California already seems to be a fairly southerly wintering destination for them.  And, with it being in the high 90's temperature-wise, what triggered their internal clocks that it was time to go?  Perhaps the position of the sun in the sky?  Well, I sure am happy that I got to see them go, and I will sure welcome them back in the spring!

 

Edit:  It is September 15, and the birds are either back, never left, or perhaps
this is the 2nd Brigade.  *Sigh*  I still feel I witnessed something special,
if not actually "grand".  :)

Who's Your Santa?

I was folding laundry yesterday.  Christmas was a solid eight months ago, today being Sept. 2, right? 

 

 

Wait a minute -- I think these pajama pants are actually from the 2009 holiday season.  So that is a good year-and-a-half-plus that these babies have been making their way through the Flaherty Fluff 'n' Fold.

 

 

This is not a post about wearing Christmas clothes off season.  No, I really couldn't care less about what is worn when or with what.  White pants after Labor Day?  Go for it.  Flannel PJ's with a Santa motif in summer?  Knock yourself out. 

 

 

No,  this post is about unknowingly, yet perhaps, subliminally encouraging your now twelve (then ten!) year old kid not only to drink beer, but to "heart" beer and to share beer, and to drink beer in large quantities. 

 

        

 

Eighteen months have passed, and yet, I never noticed that the new jammies the Christmas Elf delivered to J-Boy one joyous Chistmas Eve had anything other than cute polar bears with eco-friendly messages mixed with rockin' guitars,  skulls in Santa hats, and the smarmy "Who's Your Santa?" designs.  I guess I...I mean, that Elf needs to be a more careful shopper now that my baby has outgrown the mainstays of the kids' department.  These PJ's are an Adult XS.

 

Hey, J-Boy!!  Be a good lad and go crack Mama open a cold one, will ya'?  Atta Boy!

 

Ha!  If you could only feel the discomfort he is emitting while indulging me with this pose!
I sure do love that kid! 

Now, seriously, give me that beer...