All in a Day's Quirks

 

First day jitters…As I checked my phone for the 16th time in 2 hours, the email notification twinkled.  I opened the browser to see that G’s kindergarten teacher sent an email – yikes!  I opened it, heart racing. 

G’s having a wonderful day! 

Short and simple, the sweetest words I could have hoped for.   Woot!   Biggest. Smile. Ever.  I quickly forwarded the note to my husband, with a “Wow!”.  I also sent his teacher a quick reply to tell her how appreciative I was for the update, so glad he was doing good!

Heavy sigh of relief, relax your shoulders, Mama Quirky.

G got off the bus with a giant grin and began twirling his coat around, running ahead of the pack to get home.  The first thing he did when he got inside was to pull out a drawing he made in school.  He explained that they were to draw their favorite thing (about school I think).  He drew himself with a book and a racetrack…quite obviously they don’t have garbage trucks!   Love his 3 hairs. 

 

 

 

 

 

G then ran off to play Wii…or so I thought.  He yelled out that he’d made a new best friend in kindergarten.  I was ecstatic!  That was all he was going to share, but what he shared was amazing.  He spent the next hour creating Mii’s on the Wii.  This was an activity he  used to do a long time ago, when he was much less verbal.  I indulged him because it’s people-oriented and creative.  At times we had hundreds of odd looking little Mii’s, he’d put beards on foreheads and moustaches on girls, always dressed in green.  Always good for entertainment, except when he’d change other player’s Mii’s and get his sibs in a snit.  Can you see me?  I’m not wearing my favorite purple (Daddy is!), but I’m the only blonde  - interesting.  Apparently parental Mii’s are sacred from G’s changes, though I’ve only played Wii once.  lol

But today he re-created his kindergarten classmates, starting with his new best friend. 

Awesome.

 

 

So many friends say they can’t figure out Facebook, don’t know how to re-post a status or copy a photo.

There’s no magic wand, in fact, it’s REALLY simple.  I hope that I can help de-mystify a couple tech actions.  Below are the most requested action items from friends. 

Let me know if I can provide additional clues…

 

 

Copy, paste:

 

1. Select text by clicking and dragging over text you want to copy.
2. Let go of mouse button when your text/item is selected.
3. Push keyboard keys Control (Ctrl) and letter C together at the same time.  (this is keyboard shortcut for copy in all pc programs)
4. Without pushing mouse button, navigate mouse to your Facebook status bar, document, or wherever you want it placed.
5. Click mouse button                                                                            6. Push keyboard keys Control (Ctrl) and V (this is keyboard shortcut for paste in all pc programs)

Voila!

Copy/Save an image:

1. Navigate your mouse to an image or photo without pushing mouse button
2. Push opposite mouse key (yes, that other button is there for good reasons!)
3. Holding right button, scroll down to “Save Picture” and click
4. A menu will appear with your computer’s files
5. Pick a file and double click to save. 
6. Now you have it!
7.  Beware of copyright infringement.

More itty bitty tips:

Save working files often: Control (Ctrl) and S

Undo:  My personal favorite, more people should use it, lol.           Control (Ctrl) and Z

 

When all else fails…

Go to Google, Yahoo, Bing or your favorite search engine and type in your question. 

Example: 
How do I copy a status on Facebook?

You’ll be amazed at how many tutorials are at your fingertips.  

YouTube is another great place to search those questions, and you can watch a video tutorial to learn.  This method is wonderful for visual or oral learners.

 

Everything I Learned About Copying and Pasting I Learned After Design School (Tech Backstory)

Remember these archaic telephone modems?  I got into computers shortly after college when graphics started going digital.  The first computer I worked on was an ancient black and white Mac with a screen just a wee bit bigger than a slice of bread.  First project: I laid out a 200+ page tech catalog on that baby Mac.  Hilarious!  Actually, not so much.  I got carpal tunnel from all the scrolling before anyone knew what carpal tunnel was. 

Back then, Macs and Pc’s were polar opposites, and communication between the 2 was horribly glitchy.  As a result, I got to know many, many IT guys (yup, an-all male field then, at least in my experience).  I watched, asked questions and learned.  I had a tech direct hotline (not really, but it sometimes seemed that way).  Some techs groaned when I called (no caller ID then either, they couldn’t avoid me) and a couple techs I got to know so well from sheer continuity, we dated.  Very risky, thinking back on it.  I wouldn’t want to piss them off – they were my lifeline to clients, printers and media everywhere! 

A couple of firms I worked for also paid for computer training courses.  This was where I learned the most valuable long-term tricks.  These days digital graphics is a pretty seamless production.  But…if the world’s computer screens ever go black, I can do the whole process the messy, prehistoric drawing board method.  I miss those chemical smells, ink globs, rubylith overlays.  Not.  

 That’s it. 

No magic…

but feel free to say shazaam!

 

Happy Sharing!

 

 G’s 1st day of kindergarten.  Full inclusion. 

Yikes. Yikes. Yiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiikes!

I drove G for his 1st official day so that I could be sure that he’s settled in, to meet his parapro…and yes, photos opps. 

On the way into school G said, “Uh-oh, you forgot my bus tag!”

I moaned, “Oh no!  Well I can pick you up after school.”

He said, “No, I know what bus I’m on, it’s bus __.”

“Really?  Well, I‘ll ask your teacher to be sure.”

I confessed to his teacher that G discovered that I forgot his bus tag.  She assured me that she has a list and he will make it on the right bus.  I must have asked her 5 times, “Are you sure, I can pick him up, no problem!”  I saw a stack of forms on her desk and realized that I forgot to bring his form.  His teacher joked, “G will probably help remind you to send it tomorrow.”  I’m so glad she’s seen me/knew me when I had it together, knew which end was up.  I was a Room Mom with my older kids for her class, and worked in her classroom often.  Pre-G, getting out the door was not quite the process it is now.  Eating, brushing teeth, getting dressed, learning to tie shoes, most everything was simpler.  Different, not better – as Temple Grandin says.

I was thrilled upon meeting G’s Parapro to discover that she’s friendly, approachable and well-experienced. She asked if I had specific concerns (and listened!).  She mentioned that she’s frequently worked with demanding students at our local special needs school.  She “gets it”, a lucky break.  This makes a world of difference to me.  During the difficult negotiations to obtain an aide for G, the school admin  stressed repeatedly that the “Parent Aide” would not be a ParaPro, it would be a parent with some ASD training.  I pictured a babysitting-type scenario.  G’s aide called herself a “Sub ParaPro”, a much better, more professional fit to ease/facilitate G’s transition into NT environment and keep him safe.  Such a weight off my mind.  I look forward to hearing how he does and discussing his needs and progress further. 

I got G going with an activity, then let her come in as I backed off.  I slunk around the classroom taking photos of G - no need for slinking – he never looked up at me.  I reluctantly pulled myself away. Outside his classroom, tears burned my eyes.  I sniffled, put on a brave face and went into the office to make some arrangements for my volunteer work.  G’s principal came in and asked me how I was doing.  I tried not to look at her face.  I swallowed, choked and blurted, “I’m-ok-but-I’m-trying-to hold-it-together-and-I-better-not-talk-about-it–or-I’ll-cry–again-but-thank-you-I-can’t-look-at-you.”

She laughed and quipped, “ Ok, I think you’re set on the caffeine!”

Thank you dear lady, for making me laugh!  I think she’s been through this a few thousand times…including twice before with me.

I finished my business and peeked back into the classroom window to be sure G was coping.  No worries – he was in his own world, working on a puzzle contentedly, while a few other children cried big crocodile tears, scared of the big changes and pitifully missing Home/Family/Furry Creatures.

I remember how proud I was when I dropped off my older children in this same classroom.  I knew that I’d done my job by preparing my kiddos for independence, giving them confidence and getting them revved up about how fun and cool school and learning would be for them.  This is the one child that I wish upon wish would cry and feel sad that I’m leaving… 

…I can’t be certain he’d ever notice if I was suddenly gone.  That’s not dramatizing, that’s reality.  This thought causes me great distress, followed by tremendous guilt for being selfish enough to think that way.  He posed and blew kisses on command for a photo -that’s more than many ASD Moms can hope for.  

In the end, it is what it is.  Our family could have it so much worse, as many do.  We appreciate our blessings, feel privileged to have him in our lives.  He means the world to our family, he teaches us in infinite ways.  I know that he loves me in the here and now. I’m fortunate that he allows affection.  He makes us laugh daily with his quirks and silliness.  We’re doing the best we can to teach him life skills, social skills, family, friends, LOVE. 

I have enough sentimentality, fear and tears for both of us, sweet G.  Best of luck on your journey into real-world Neuro-Typical (NT) school.  May you succeed in kindergarten.  As one of his heroes says, “To infinity and beyond!”

I feel fairly confident that G’s in safe care at school.  I don’t feel like I have to post myself out in the parking lot for G-surveillance to be certain he doesn’t bolt out the door; head for the hills, the highway, the lake, the train, the garbage truck, the fire truck.  Not to say that I relaxed for a moment this afternoon.  I considered plans for my first official freedom of the school year.  I tossed around ideas to go shopping, call friends, watch a favorite DVR-ed show, clean the house (considered for all of about 3 seconds – duh – no therapy value there today, unless I cry into a sponge).  Instead…well, you see what I did instead.
 
Writing + Coke Zero
+ I treated myself
to a tiny chocolate
(ok 3 -shhhh)      
= my therapies of choice
   
Incidentally, I checked his forgotten bus tag when I got home.  Sure enough, he’s on bus __, just like he told me.  Thanks for keeping me on track, smart boy…somebody has to!

 

G was invited to play at a (NT) friend’s house after their meet & greet morning in kindergarten class this morning.  His buddy wanted to ride in our car with G, so I listened with curiosity to hear what they’d talk about after meeting so many kids and getting acquainted with their teacher and classroom.  As we buckled up I asked, “How did you like your first day?  Did you see lots of kids you know?  What toy did you like best?”  They both gave short one word answers.  The boys then got engrossed in G’s cars and small toy assortment littering my mamavan floor. 

Despite everyone’s efforts to de-clutter family taxi, we NEED objets d’art (the finest art - of distraction!) for G.  I’ve tried many organization methods, but nothing really works well.  (feel free to share inexpensive ideas).  When my other 2 kids were younger, we had a wonderful system.  But G’s a different kid and I’m way more harried.  I usually help him pack a backpack with small items/books to keep in the car and change about once a week to keep his interest.  But G never seems to put all of them back – he hides them behind/under his seat or in cupholders.  But hey, who am I kidding, the toys are really for us.  Anything that keeps him busy and happy or distracts him when upset is good for the other passengers.  Lord help us the day his ailing, thrice cracked ipod touch finally bites the dust.  A piercing wail will be heard in several counties (me), and who knows how G will react.  The loss of a power cord/charger - or worse, his iTouch - is declared a family emergency.  But, I digress.  Soooooo…

K asks G, “What’s that thing?”  So I peeked in my rear mirror.  G had a Bath and Body Works Peace Sign ScentPortable that we keep clipped in the back seat.  G, in his teacher voice…

“This is for when someone FARTS. You hold it up to your nose and smell - real quick…like this,” he explained, demonstrating dramatically. 

“Here, you try it now,” as G waved it around K’s nose. 

“Oh.”  K replied.  Conversation over.

I prepared to be mortified if G decided to fully demonstrate their fresh effectiveness by “ripping one”, in the charming terminology used by my 12 year old.  I’m relieved to tell he didn’t. The moment passed and they went back to zooming the cars around. 

Boys will be boys.  Peace Out, Dudes!

 

http://www.bathandbodyworks.com/family/index.jsp?categoryId=4147330&cm_sp=LN-_-Home+Fragrance-_-Scentportables&cp=4090259.4090324.4090327.4432044

 

Seeing Ezra
A Mother's Story of Autism, Unconditional Love and the Meaning of Normal
by Kerry Cohen

Autism Mother Follows Her Heart

Honest, real, tenacious. I feel the raw emotion, worry and frustration plucked straight out of my soul and heart and onto the pages. Autism's rippling effect of disability dis-ables every aspect of family life.  Motherhood: protect, serve, anticipate, support, love, research, counsel EVERYONE surrounding the child. Right now, right now, right NOW. Feel guilty for needing, frustrated for wanting, desperate for hope.

Absolutely loved it!  Cohen's story and writing resonates to my core.

5 stars out of 5


http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1580053696/ref=cm_cr_rev_prod_title#_

http://www.kerry-cohen.com/about.html

Interview with Author:
http://www.king5.com/new-day-northwest/Author-of-Seeing-Ezra-Kerry-Cohen-132699263.html

Countdown to 1st day of school: 14 Days!

What will I do?
 
My day won’t be punctuated by my son N sneaking up to lean close to my ear and share a LOUD BURRRRRRRRRRRRP.  

It’s all about shock value.

He’s so 12.   

N with a ooey-gooey glob of caramel on his birthday. 

I struggled to round up G to get in the car, near the end of my patience after a 20 minute “let’s-get-ready-and-out-the-door” scramble. I spotted him squatted down in the driveway and hurried over to get him moving. 
“Look what I found!  A illegal feather!!!”, G squealed happily as he jumped up and waved his treasure.

G Translation???

Furrowed brow, I asked, “Why is it illegal?”

G: “It’s FROM illegal!”

A-ha! …ah-ha-ha-ha
Got it.

Poor G has a yucky virus. Nothing worse than a summer cold. He started antibiotics and had a day of feeling much better yesterday, but is all clogged up again today.

“When I lay down,                     more boogers come into my nose.”

I love that simple “body aware” observation, and that he communicated it so well. He’s becoming more in tune with his body’s feelings and expressing them more frequently.

G’s in touch with his inner boogers! How Oprah.

Go G, booger down!


In case you wonder the same thing (like I did), here’s a simple explanation:

Gravity

• CT scan of sinus cavities
  Sinuses are small airbags, found in the bones of the face. When they cannot drain properly, it is very difficult to breath through your nose. This problem can worsen at night when you lay down. Gravity plays a role in sinus drainage. While in a lying position, the sinuses may drain down the back of your throat, causing irritation. If you lay on one side or the other, the sinuses will drain to that side, making it difficult to breathe through the nose.

Read more: Why Do Noses Get Stuffy at Night? | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/about_5367310_do-noses-stuffy-night.html#ixzz1VUa6oXcP

A fine video highlighting the stark reality of Autism.  Please share this to raise awareness.

 
When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand.
Henri Nouwen

When a friend is in trouble, don't annoy him by asking if there is anything you can do. Think up something appropriate and do it.
Edward W. Howe

Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down.
Oprah Winfrey

I have friends in overalls whose friendship I would not swap for the favor of the kings of the world.
Thomas A. Edison

It's the friends you can call up at 4 a.m. that matter.
Marlene Dietrich

It is not so much our friends' help that helps us, as the confidence of their help.
Epicurus

A hug is like a boomerang - you get it back right away.
Bil Keane

Thank you dearest friends, for being there when I need you.  I have a difficult time seeking out help. I believe that the biggest misconception is that someone has the ability to reach out when they are deeply troubled.  Often it’s this point at which we are most isolated.  We wonder who will understand our troubles.  My close friends know my incredible strength, know that when I ask for help it must be very very painful.  The smallest of gestures can make the difference between despair and hope.

Blessings to you - my family of friends - who came to my side without question or judgment. You are held close to my heart.

Your support means the world to me.  YOU mean the world to me.  I hope that I may return our beautiful friendship boomerang in YOUR hour of need.

I asked G what he wants to be when he grows up. 
He said, "A prisoner!"

I asked,
"Why, what will you do?"

He replied,
"I want to be the boss of everything, everywhere!"

I thought for a minute,
"Do you mean the President?"

"Yes, the Prisoner!"  He exclaimed.

I hope his kindergarten teacher doesn't ask that
on the 1st day of school... 

 

Every once in awhile I get caught up in ridiculous “normalism”.  That is, thinking in a logical manner or insisting upon something that simply DOES NOT MATTER.  I think my brain can only handle so much random, chaos, unknown and “isms” until I crack and hyper-focus on silly mundane points. 

My daughter bought a Happy Napper with her allowance money yesterday during our girl’s night out shopping (love to bond with my darling daughter, easy-brightly-smiling-tween and loads of fun).  She’s in the funny stage of being too old for some things, yet not for others.  I’m thinking these are ok because they’re useful?  Who knows.  Some of her friends still play with Barbies, so I’m ok with a pillow.  I’m in no rush for heels and makeup.  So, M picked the pink LadyBug, which she called LoveBug.  Later at bedtime I asked her if she’d named it yet, and we set about suggesting names and voting.  She decided Lulu the LoveBug was best.  Cute! 

G had gotten one about a month ago, after begging for one for a couple months.  He wore me down (and I must admit they’re cute). See G happily sticking his tongue out like his doggie Happy Napper in the shopping cart after Tae Kwon Do.  He tried to slide the gold lion in – hmmm - it mysteriously disappeared.     I forget what he named his then, if at all, it was fleeting.  He’s not big into personalizing stuffed animals or humanizing (friending) behaviors.  Anyway, I asked him what his doggie was named.  He said, “LoveBook” (must be what he thought we were saying with M’s "LoveBug”).  Picture scrunched brows and quizzical expressions on our faces.  I told him that it sounded just like M’s name, and he should make his a different name.  He protested, screeched and flapped.  But M and I persisted.  We kept up with funny suggestions (Herbert, Sailboat, Jaws, Easter Bunny, Shaggy and the like) until he calmed down, laughed and got involved in our discussion.  He chose one after we got into more serious “normal” names (we wore him down, lol).  His doggie’s name was officially “Spot”.  I know, totally unoriginal - but more socially acceptable in my mind than LoveBook (sounds a bit naughty, ewwww).  So Spot he was…

…But G showed me up as usual.  Silly Mama!

Today I asked them to tell Daddy their Happy Napper names.  G exclaimed, “Spotted!"

Hilarious!  He puts his G stamp on it always.  Gotta love it.  This is sure to fall into the ranks of familyisms, those events or terms that aren’t truly understandable or funny until you get the “backstory”. 

Spotted he is, dearest G! 

 

If you’re not familiar with Happy Nappers, you must not watch kid’s tv.  It’s on every commercial break, I think.  The song pops into my head at random times: gas station, bottle returns, mowing lawn.  I need a life.   

https://www.happynapper.com/?mid=1072641

 

IEPs According to Dr. Suess

BY Cameo Van Zandt

Do you like these IEPs?

I do not like these IEPs

I do not like them, Jeeze Louise

We test, we check

we plan, we meet

but nothing ever seems complete.

Would you, could you

like the form?

I do not like the form I see.

Not page 1, not 2, not 3.

Another change,

a brand new box, I think we all

Have lost our rocks.

Could you all meet here or there?

We could not all meet here or there.

We cannot all fit anywhere.

Not in a room

Not in a hall

There seems to be no space at all.

Would you, could you meet again?

I cannot meet again next week

No lunch, no prep

Please hear me speak.

No, not at dusk and not at dawn

At 4 p.m. I should be gone.

Could you hear while all speak out?

Would you write the words they spout?

I could not hear, I would not write

This does not need to be a fight.

Sign here, date there,

Mark this, check that,

Beware the student’s ad-vo-cat(e).

You do not like them

so you say

Try it again! Try it again!

and then you may.

If you let me be,

I’ll try again

and you will see.

Say!

I almost like these IEPs

I think I’ll write 6,003.

And I will practice day and night

Until they say

"You’ve got it right.

By Cameo Van Zandt

Find Cameo on Facebook page,

“You know you’ve got a child with autism when…” https://www.facebook.com/#!/groups/112333318804090/

In a nighttime show of mosquito bites, scrapes, bruises and scars from a fun summer day….

G, counting:

“Ouch, ouch, ouch…I have 21 bruises  on my legs!”

 

Sister M, looking closely:

“G, that’s chocolate ice cream drips!”