A Card Carrying Member

My sisters and I are going out dancing next weekend. It's an unspoken rule that whenever my oldest sister is in town, we have to go out dancing. As my younger sister and I were discussing this she said to me, "I want you to let loose while we're out. Just go wild and have fun." I found this amusing. You see, I always do let loose and have a great time. I don't drink and so I'm the designated driver. And there isn't anything I say or do that I would be embarrassed for anyone else to know about. But it hammered home a truth that has divided me and my sisters since the day I was born.

I am a nerd. (If you grew up with me at all, this is not a revelation.) But I'm not the techie, computer geek type that now seems to be the "cool" kind of nerd. I am a nerd in the purest, most picked on sense of the word. I was always the teacher's pet growing up. I got straight A's up through high school and graduated with honors. I was never fashionable and always seemed to have a bad perm.

I always asked for extra work and was the first to sign up for summer reading programs. I love to read. I can't tell you how many times my sisters came into my room while I was reading, begging me to do "something fun". Hello?! Can't you see I'm having fun already?

You know those people that you went to school with that always seemed older and put together and just plain cool? I was the opposite of that. I never even seemed my own age, much less older. Not a year went by that I was not teased, picked on, ridiculed endlessly.

I was always the goody-two shoes of the family. I was the tattle-tell, the party pooper. Both my sisters had problems in school and seemed to get in trouble. I could never understand why anyone would want to do something that would make their parents upset with them. This is not to say that I never did anything bad. I've had my moments of rebellion and stupidity. And there were plenty of times that I would try anything to fit in with my sisters or people at school. It never worked.

It's not just reading that I enjoy. I could pass away hours happily organizing something, anything. It's makes me happy to see something in it's place. (Just don't ask me to clean said place.) Last year my husband finally bought me a gift I've been asking for for years. He bought me a label maker. He's so good to me. He's in construction and sometimes he'll bring home catalogs of organizing units and pieces for your kitchen. That's hours of entertainment right there. I drool over the pages in my scrapbook magazine of perfectly organized craft rooms and scrapbook corners. I love to look at the closet organizers at Home Depot. A fun evening out for me would be to walk around the Container Store. (At least I'm a cheap date!)

I also have a thing for spelling. If I see something misspelled, it stands out like a flashing neon light and I can't get past it. If it's something coming from a friend or something personal, it's not such a big deal. But if it's on something professional? Oh, that irritates me to no end. Don't they pay someone to check these things? Can they not hit the spellcheck button? How are you supposed to appear professional if you can't even spell it?

I don't drink, smoke or cuss. I've tried all at one time or another and enjoyed none. Mixed drinks always taste better without the alcohol. I love the smell of wine, but it smells better than it tastes. Cigarettes are just NASTY! Cussing stuck around longer than anything else but even that didn't last. It just doesn't seem to fit. And this one always amuses me because I think there is a blue streak in my genes. The women in my family can swear in a way that would make a sailor blush. I do have to admit that I did have one favorite word that I used all the time. I always said "crap". Which, when you think about it, is still a gross word. But I always figured it was nothing compared to what you might be hearing everywhere else. Until I had kids. Once I had kids, I started thinking about these words coming out of the mouths of my little children. Suddenly, it sounded a whole lot worse to me. I had to train myself not to say it. First, I had to stop saying it. Then, I had to stop thinking it. And then I had to come up with something else that would be appropriate. I came up with the most ridiculous thing I could think of and started using it instead. My "go-to" word has now become "heavens to Betsy." I'm not sure exactly how but it works. It's hard to stay upset about anything after saying that.

I didn't enjoy the same things that my sisters did growing up and so I've always been the big nerd, the snob. Imagine the excitement for my sisters when their stuffy, prudish sister started going to church. That was the best thing that ever happened to me. It wasn't until my junior and senior year in high school, when I mostly hung around with kids in the youth group, that I started to accept (and dare I say embrace) my nerdiness. Did I still want to fit in? Absolutely. But I became a lot more comfortable with being an outsider. And I don't care who knows it. I'll be the first person to volunteer to do something completely humiliating...and have a great time doing it. I have been teased and picked on since preschool. I figure people are going to think whatever they want to about me. I might as well enjoy myself.

So this is me. A full-fledged, card-carrying member of the Nerd Herd. Label maker in one hand, a good book in the other, calling out to other geeks-in-hiding. Embrace your nerdiness! (Just leave out the pocket protectors.)

All About the Kids...For Once

I thought I would take a break from talking about me for once and spend some time on my kids. OK, you don't have to cheer so loud. I do realize that life is not all about me...sometimes.

I was driving Bubba to speech/playgroup last night and he was fascinated with the moon. It was a full moon but it was slightly veiled through the clouds. It was an incredible sight. Even as we were driving he had to keep watching it. Then he asked me a great question. He said, "Mommy, do you think there's anything undiscovered on the moon?" Those were his exact words. I love that question. After Bubba lost his first words, he never said anything until after he turned 4. Now he's 8 and asked me that. I'm just amazed at his brain and the things that come out of it.

All 3 of the kids are taking piano lessons now. Howdy is doing it somewhat reluctantly. He'd rather do guitar lessons. I told him he has to give me a year of piano first. It seems to come more naturally to Bubba and Sassy than it does to Howdy. This makes sense if you know them. Bubba and Sassy are more analytical. They love math and numbers and patterns. Howdy is my artistic, creative one who struggles with math and the concrete side of things. I sit in the room while they have their lessons. Their teacher does this exercise with them that I love to hear. It's my favorite part. She gives them certain keys on the piano to play and then they are to accompany her while she plays a particular piece of music. They get to play their keys however they want. For the most part, when Bubba and Sassy do this, it actually sounds good. It fits. They do their best to follow the rhythm and stay on beat. However, when Howdy plays, it usually makes my hair stand on end. It's just not obvious to him where the notes should fit into the music. I'm not too worried because they are just starting. And they don't get to practice a whole lot at home since we don't have our own piano or keyboard. But when I was watching Howdy last week something looked different. He looked very natural at the piano. And he looked like he was trying very hard and enjoying himself. I'm not sure why but I was very proud of him as he sat there on that bench.

Bubba picks up on music pretty quickly, as I suspected he would. He can look at a new piece and figure it out without too much help. But he tends to be impatient. He thinks he knows everything there is to know and doesn't always have the patience to listen to instructions. We just have to take our time with him and have patience ourselves. I'm so used to always having to repeat and go over things that I forget there are some things he's way ahead of me on.

Sassy is my prodigy. OK, so she's not technically a prodigy. But I've secretly thought her a genius since she was about 2. At 5, she's reading chapter books, playing solitaire, doing first grade addition, memorizing worship songs from church and showing the boys how to do the laundry. I remember when Bubba was in preschool, I asked one of his teachers if there was a way to get Sassy's intelligence tested to see if she was beyond her age level and he kindly brought me back to reality. He told me that she probably just seemed so smart because I was comparing her to Bubba at that age. Well, he had a point. I can't remember what Howdy did at that age (that's why I write things down) and I know Bubba wasn't doing any of those things when he was that young. But I do know that she is slightly above her age level. (Does that sound unbiased enough?) When you look at how she's grown up though, it's easy to see why. She has 2 older brothers for one thing. If you're going to be the youngest and the only girl, you'd better catch on quick or you'll be left behind. Plus, Sassy's always been the one who's been with Bubba while he was in speech or being quizzed with flashcards or learning his letters. When we found out that Bubba was learning his words by memorizing them, we went through the house and labeled everything. We've read to the kids almost every night before bed since they were born. She has grown up surrounded by words. Bubba's area of expertise is math, anything with numbers. During the summer, he actually asks me if he can do math worksheets. If Bubba is doing math, Sassy wants to do math. So she's had a pretty good jumpstart on a lot of things. But since I'm her mother, would it still be alright if I quietly think of her as a genius?

A Glimpse of Daylight

I'm finally taking a moment to breathe. I'm peeking out of my cave long enough to glimpse the sunlight (ok, so it's actually overcast but at this point, I'm not picky). November is crazy for us. This year is even more so. We usually do craft shows every weekend in November. This means that I put off working on everything until September or October, then I spend every waking moment down in my basement until I'm so tired I can't see straight. Sometimes I work out at the shows with CJ and sometimes we hire someone else, but I always have to be there to help set up and breakdown.

This keeps us busy enough. Everyone at church knows not to expect to see us at all during November. But since I'm never content with my life only a little busy, we made it even more hectic this year. I'm homeschooling this year and the kids are taking piano lessons. Plus, we added new shows. Take a look at what our Oct/Nov/Dec schedule looks like.

Monday 6:30-7:30 Logan has Speech/playgroup
Tuesday 3:30-5pm piano lessons for all 3 kids
Thursday 2:30-3:30 Speech for Logan
Friday 9:30-2:30 Co-op for all of us
Oct 21st set up for a show at the Tacoma Dome
Oct 22nd-26th work the show
Oct 26th breakdown
Oct 31st set up for a show in Poulsbo
Nov 1st & 2nd work the show, breakdown Sun.
Nov 7th set up at Spanaway Lake High School
Nov 8th & 9th work the show, breakdown on Sun.
weekend of Nov 14th--NO SHOW! (It was an odd 5 weekend month this year)
Nov 21st set up at PLU
Nov 22nd work the show, breakdown that eve.
Nov 26th set up for a show in Portland, OR
Nov 27th Thanksgiving
Nov 28th I set up for a show at Peninsula High School while CJ works the show in Portland all weekend
Nov 29th & 30th work the Peninsula show, breakdown on Sun.
Dec 5th-7th Hubby works the Portland show (it's a 2 weekend show)
Dec 7th breakdown and come home

This is our schedule minus the physicals and Halloween activities that the kids had scheduled, without the scrapbook convention that I go to every year, not including support group for Howdy and Sassy, and without the day-to-day things like schooling and running errands and attempting to keep up with the house. And also not taking into consideration my work time to make sure we have enough product at each show. Everything we sell, I make by hand.

In the midst of this I have to keep the kids' schedule as normal as possible or their behavior will fall apart. I haven't done a great job of it so far and I could see that I was losing Bubba last week. But I think we're getting back on track.

Our goal every year is to start spreading out our shows throughout the year, maybe one a month. I will treat this as a part-time job and plan work hours/days and then I'm not cramming it all into 1 or 2 months of craziness. But by the time we get to December, I'm so burned out that I can't even get myself to go into my craft room for 6 months at least!

But there are benefits to all this madness. First of all, I get to be creative and make things. And I love to go to a show and hear everyone say, "Oh, these are SO cute! You are so creative!" I eat it up. Second, I like knowing that I'm contributing to our finances. These shows pay for Christmas and usually a trip to TX to see all of Hubby's family.

So it's beyond crazy for awhile, but then I have a few months to forget about it before I have to start it all over again.

My Name is Sheri....and I am a Movie Slut

Before you get all offended and up in arms about that title, let me explain what it means. I love movies. I love to watch them, read about them, see how they made them. I am the queen of useless movie trivia. You name a movie and I can tell you who was in it, the story line, how it did at the box office and sometimes who directed or even produced it. I went into "The Sixth Sense" knowing the big secret at the end, and thoroughly enjoyed watching it. But out of 100 movies that I could tell you about I've probably only seen about 4. I prefer to see a movie in the theater but since I am not willing to take out a second mortgage to pay for it, I don't get out much. I don't have movie channels on my cable either so my movies, for the most part, come from Netflix (a great concept).

Back to the title. I will watch almost any movie. I don't like sci-fi or horror, although there are a few exceptions, but I will watch pretty much everything else. I don't need a lesson on the trash that's being allowed to filter into my brain. Trust me when I tell you that I have my own issues in dealing with that. But the fact that I have no discerning taste when it comes to movies prompted a dear friend of mine to give me the title of "Movie Slut". Although slightly offensive, it seems to fit. I love to see a good story, good acting or sometimes just good entertainment.

I must confess something to you. I have not seen most of the movies that would be considered "classic" or that would be on anyone's top 100 list. If I had no children or husband, I'm convinced I would probably be watching movies every day and have no life at all. I try to be kind to my husband and not watch every chick flick I can get my hands on. And I am very discerning in what I will allow my children to see. I won't watch any movies while they are home because I don't want them hearing or seeing something they aren't ready for. Plus, I never have time for a movie.

Something has happened to my taste in movies as I've gotten older. It seems the lower the IQ of the movie, the funnier I will find it. It started about 10 years ago with the original Austin Powers. I laughed hysterically through the whole thing. But I didn't like the 2nd and didn't see the 3rd. I'm okay with pointless humor, just not so much bathroom humor. I also loved "Dodgeball". Actually the best part of that is the DVD extras. I could sit and watch Justin Long get hit with a ball for hours. (Hey, don't judge me!) I will confess one more to you at the risk of being ostracized forever. I laughed throughout most of "Talledega Nights". I know, I know. I seem like an intelligent person but inside I'm just...well, a movie slut.

Some of the movies that you would find on my top 100 list? Let me share them with you, in no particular order:
Gladiator (hello, Russell Crowe!)
Secondhand Lions
Transformers
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
August Rush
Ever After
Pride & Prejudice
Schindler's List
13 Going on 30
The Lord of the Rings trilogy
Fargo
Return to Me
Never Been Kissed
The Joy Luck Club
What About Bob?
Elf

As you can see, I have a very broad taste in movies. I'm sure I'm not the only one, but I may be the only one to admit it. I think I have a genetic defect that wants me to find something good in everything. I just watched "The 40-year-old Virgin" recently. It's a very crude, R-rated comedy about...what else? But there is a part of the movie (SPOILER ALERT!) that was so sweet. The main character just confessed to his girlfriend that he had been avoiding sex with her because he was a virgin. He said to her, "All this time I thought I was weird. But now I realize that it never happened because I was just waiting for you." Awwwww! Honestly, I cried when he said that. (Ask my husband.) How sweet and romantic was that? And then they waited until after they were married to...well, you know.

Yes, I know it's only a movie, it's not real. But in our world today, it brings me joy to hear things that are sweet and tender and give hope. Even if it's fiction.

shhhhhh!

don't tell my kids but i'm hiding. i took my tea and my breakfast and i'm entrenched in front of the computer. it's not a very secret hiding spot so i'm sure i will be found out any moment. that's why i'm whispering. they're still eating breakfast and doing their chores. i think they're trying to hide from me as well so i won't make them start on their schoolwork.

the shades are open at the window next to me and everything outside is wet. i love the fall. i just want to curl up in a blanket and watch the leaves and the rain and sip tea or cocoa. it energizes me. well, not so much at the moment! but that's what i would prefer to be doing right now.

this time of the year is so busy for me. i have 4 craft shows in november and i usually spend at least 2 months before that trying to get ready for the shows. for most of them, it's set up on friday, work saturday and sunday and then take down on sunday evening. but i'm also homeschooling during all this. i have to try to keep the kids on the same schedule as much as possible or we'll be dealing with serious behavior problems. one of these days i might go into detail about what happened last year around this time but i don't have the energy right now. it was too stressful.

freeze! i hear footsteps outside my door......don't make a sound......whew! we're safe for now. that was too close. i need to sign off before my post is invaded. sometimes it's rough here in the trenches. there's never enough contact with the outside world. if you get this message, be assured that i'm hanging on. my mission is thus far a success. the children are behaving and learning and growing. they are------

i've been found out! i'm outnumbered! retreat! save yourself! i'll do my best to survive......don't forget about me.....tell----..........

Lost and Found

All year long my children have been looking forward to a special event--the Lego Convention (yes, there really is such a thing). Howdy is fanatical about Legos and the other 2 just think they're fun but we all enjoy going. It's held in Seattle and people come from all over the country to show off their Lego sculptures. They have a Space Needle that is taller than me, an Eiffel Tower, a 10+ foot Titanic. It's fun to see what they can come up with.

Hubby had a friend's birthday party to go to but I headed out with the kids and their friend, G. It was very hot, very crowded and people kept pushing and shoving but we still had a great time. When it was almost time to go, we decided to head back to one of the tables so that G could buy one more figure. Bubba kept trying to read his new Lego magazine while we were walking and I had to keep steering him back on course since he wasn't paying attention. I let the kids know the plan--one more stop and then home--and we set off for the table not too far from where we were at.

We got there and I helped G elbow his way to the front. I then made sure my kids were stashed in a nearby corner so I could watch everyone at once. Only Bubba wasn't with us. I looked around but didn't see him. Knowing he had to be standing in front of some display that we passed, completely oblivious to the fact that we left him, I sent G back to grab him. But G couldn't find him. I parked G with the other 2 with explicit instructions "NOT TO MOVE FROM THAT SPOT!" while I went to hunt down Bubba. I was a little frustrated that I hadn't made sure he was walking with me where I could've kept an eye on him but I was not worried. I know this kid. I just knew I was going to find him drooling over some new Lego set on display. So I walked back the way we came, searching through the crowd for my son. I even started calling his name. I still wasn't worried, I just figured some adult was probably blocking him from my view. When he didn't answer I started to get a little more frustrated. So I stopped where I was and shouted, "I have a lost child!" That got everyone's attention. Heads whipped around and I gave a description of what he was wearing and what he looked like. (I never thought I would be able to recall what my child was wearing if I needed to give out a description like that so I was pretty proud of myself for knowing exactly what he had on.)

While I stood there waiting for my little brown-headed boy to pop out of the crowd, some nice gentleman asked me if I had told the security officers at the door. I told him no, that I hadn't told anyone before this moment. He said, "Why don't we go to security and let them know what's going on?"

I need to stop here for a moment. As I'm writing this, it seems like the most obvious thing that I should've done. But I was actually irritated with this man. I didn't have time to talk to security! I had to stay right there and wait for Bubba to appear. If I left that spot, how would he find me? And what if the other kids got worried? They wouldn't know where I was either. But I reasoned with myself that there were lots of adults looking around for him now and it was probably a good idea after all to let security know there was a lost child.

As I was walking toward the entrance with this man and his wife, something occurred to me. If something had happened to Bubba, I had just wasted all that time being so determined that he wasn't anywhere else. He could've been carried off while I stood there waiting for him to answer me already. (In reality, I had only been looking for him for about 5 minutes but it had felt like an hour.) That's when panic set in. I started sobbing. I couldn't see, I couldn't talk, I was hysterical. It hit me that my son was lost. I had no idea where he was or who he was with. I can't even think about it without crying.

The nice couple helped get me to the front door where I think I gave a description of him. I wasn't there long when someone said, "I think we found him." Then a lady who was working there came through the front door with Bubba. I started bawling all over again. I squeezed him up and alternated between kissing him all over and yelling at him to NEVER leave the building if he can't find me. Of course, my hysterics freaked him out and he started crying. But he was found, that's all that mattered.

Later, when we were leaving, Bubba pointed to the stairs that lead to street level and more buildings and told me that he had gone up there looking for me! Between the very busy street and Seattle Center he could've been hit by a car or snatched up and I never would've known it. I am so thankful to God that he was okay. The lady who found him had looked outside and heard him calling for me, that's how she even knew he was out there. Whoever she is, I'm so thankful for her as well.

Needless to say, I cried off and on about it the rest of the day. First, I had to tell my friends when I went to homegroup what had happened. Then Hubby came to homegroup later and I had to tell him. Yeah, I cried all night. I know I'm not the first person to lose child. To be honest, that's not even the first time I've lost Bubba. (I don't do it on purpose!) But all I could think of was "what kind of mother am I?" I guess all I can ask for is that it won't leave any permanent damage on his psyche. I really hate to give him anything else to unload at therapy!

Smashed Potatoes

One of the things that you typically encounter with sensory issues is eating problems. Certain foods have too strong a smell or don't look right or the texture is not tolerable. For whatever the particular issue, you have a whole new set of hoops to jump through just so that your child will thrive.

As I have readily admitted, I am quite possibly the world's pickiest adult. (Hubby's not too far behind me.) And as much as I have fun with the fact that everyone blames my children's eating habits on me and my example (often, I am even the first one to say it), I feel that I must take a moment to set the record straight. It's true that the list of foods I like is much shorter than the list of foods I don't like. However, that is because I've actually tried most of those other foods! I do try foods, I just don't like them. But I can't even get my kids to try anything new.

OK, so that's only partly true. I've never had a problem with Sassy (God bless her), and Howdy has really started to expand his menu and try new things. So that leaves (who else?) Bubba.
I told you that I'm making my kids eat whatever I've made for dinner or they don't eat. There are plenty of nights that Bubba just won't eat. And he's okay with that. But we're attempting to get him used to at least trying something. They say you may have to present a new food to a child a minimum of 10 times before they will eat it. For kids who have more severe problems, you actually have to start with them tolerating being in the same room as certain foods. Luckily it's not that bad here.

One of the things I have never been able to get Bubba to eat is mashed potatoes. I'm convinced it's just a texture thing. He also won't eat scrambled eggs, rice, pudding, Jell-O or applesauce. But I LOVE mashed potatoes so we have them alot. One night at dinner I did force him to eat one tiny bite. After much screaming and crying he finally took a small bite. He made horrible, gagging faces while it was in his mouth. Instead of being able to swallow it down quickly, he threw up all over his dinner plate. I gave up on mashed potatoes.

But it's come up again and this time I have the help of a professional. In Bubba's weekly "playgroup" (that's code for speech with another Autistic boy), the therapist has started working with the boys on getting past some of these food/texture issues. We are starting with...mashed potatoes. Or, as Bubba calls them, "smashed potatoes". So we went to playgroup and the boys got to make their own instant potatoes. Then what they do is go little by little to work up to taking a bite.

Here's how it goes. First, they have to touch the potatoes to their tongue. That's it. No tasting, eating or swallowing involved. For each time that they do it, they cross off a box on their chart. When they do it 4 times, they are rewarded with a small piece of chocolate. Then they have to lick it. Next, they actually have to leave a little piece of it on their tongues and swallow it. After that, they have to take a bite and swallow it. Bubba struggled with it a bit and made those faces again during his "bite", but he did it. It was very exciting to see him eat something that he's always had such a problem with. We are very proud of him.

Bubba is still not sold on smashed potatoes. We will have to keep working on this food, and eventually it will get replaced with another one. It's very tedious, frustrating and time-consuming. However, it's worth it if it makes eating and dinner time any better.

I want you to remember something when you're around any Autistic children. If you get frustrated at their behavior or wonder why no one's "worked with them" to stop a bad habit, they've probably been working on it for months, if not years. It is a very sloooow process. And for every behavior you seem to get control of, another new one will take it's place. It's so rewarding to see my son be able to turn around some of those "uncontrollable" behaviors. But there's never time to celebrate long before a new challenge demands that time, patience and microscopic baby steps.

Tell me again why I'm so tired all the time?