Archive | January 2009

Musings, Dreams & ESPN

If I had the option, I’d play with words for a living. Not necessarily writing, mind you, but playing with words. It’s something that I love to do, something that brings me joy.

I can hear the question already. How do you play with words if not by writing?

Well, of course writing has a lot to do with it. My neice-cousin-friend came over the other day, excited about a project she’s starting. Making purses. And this girl is talented with a capital T.

So. I told her what her company was going to be called, her tag line and even some names for her collections. The names are all a play on words, on cliche’s, and it was SO MUCH FUN. Now, she might never use them, but it doesn’t matter. I had lots of fun, and so did she.

I also like making acrostic stories. Not the poems, where it spells the name going down the side. Nope. I do stories with them. And poetry, too, but not acrostic. I love writing, don’t get me wrong. But in my dreams, Wynwords Inc. does a lot more than just short stories and novellas and blog posts. Wynwords Inc has FUN!

And no, I’m not going to tell you the ideas we came up for L. Why? Because then someone else might use it before she was able to, and then I’d NEVER get my gorgeous, sparkly in a cool, weird-wyn way purse that was made just for me. So there!

What would you do, if you could earn money doing the one thing that made you happy? That you had fun at?  I think Bri would be a sports announcer or have a sports talk show or something. HEY! ESPN! Why don’t you have a sports talk show for all these men out there? All the shows I’ve ever clicked past look like a news show. Might widen your audience, too, bring in more women which could translate into advertising dollars.

Oops. There I go again. See what I mean? Wynwords Inc: Idea Factory for hire. CALL ME, ESPN!!!!

Advertisements

Thank You UC Davis!

Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve posted. Ray went up to UC Davis to meet with the loverly and talented Dr. I. and has been sick off and on ever since.

UC Davis day was a long day. BUT…. So worth it! Dr. I. agreed with me…. MY KID IS NOT AUTISTIC!!! You don’t know how much of a relief that is for me. I’m sitting here crying. Where Ray is concerned, I feel as if a huge weight has been lifted off my back. I never truly felt that he had autism, but felt that the system was trying to push that diagnosis on him because of a few tendencies that he has (tip toe walking, language, drooling). I didn’t know what was wrong, but I knew deep in my heart that my KID IS NOT AUTISTIC.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t have some problems. Dr. I. said that if she had to diagnose him, it would probably be a mild form of DYSPRAXIA. Of course, we got home and I looked it up on the internet right away. My jaw dropped, my heart kind of did a little leap.

Yes, my boy has problems. But at least the diagnosis seems to fit the problem now.

Dyspraxia is a nuerological disorder that effects the planning, organization and carrying out of both gross and fine motor skills. Things like his having problems with a spoon, lack of talking, his “clumsiness”, his abhorrance of the tooth brush, the way he can’t draw a straight line, even the way he loves on certain textures (his wooby)… So much! Having a hard time finding anything out about helping with the motor skill part, but the speech part– some people have had a lot of success using sign language because it gives the child another way of expression and/or the cue.

(Personally, I think it boils down to a multi-sensory need for learning. I could be wrong– like I said, still starting to find out about it… But I will know more. I will! I Will!!!)

Anyhoo– So Ray and I are working on “S” right now. I have hissed it into his belly, let his fingers crawl into my mouth as I said that sound… And he can make an “S” sound. For today. I know it’s going to take a lot of work. But that’s ok!

I AM SO HAPPY!

And ok. Yah, A LOT of that happiness comes from being RIGHT!

AHAHAHAHAH!!!!!!

Seriously, though. It does reinforce the point that at the end of the day, these little blessings are OUR children. If a doctor or a therapist or teacher is trying to tell you that something is wrong with your child, but it does not fit… Say something. Because we are their first, their BEST advocates. Push until they can either explain to you WHY their diagnosis is correct in a way that makes sense to you, or for another opinion.

Ray does have some “symptoms” that mirror autism.

1. Tip toe walking. Doesn’t count though, because he only does it when he’s up to no good or day-dreaming

2. The drooling. (Turns out, according to Dr. I. that it has something to do with when he’s concetrating (i.e. fine motor skill or learning) something in his brain misfires and he forgets to swallow).

3. Parallel play. He doesn’t play with other children his own age, but rather next to them. Mostly, it’s because he gets frustrated. He’s not a dummy, he just doesn’t have the tools to communicate effectively with his peers. Yet.

4. Lack of Imaginary Play. He does, actually, do imaginary play. He’ll give a stuffed animal his binky, tried to feed his snack from Dr. I to a stuffed rabbit, made appropriate noises, etc… That’s actually when she turned to me and said she agreed with me, that he is absolutely not autistic.

Now, there is a chance that at some point the doctors will be right, and we, the parent will be wrong. That’s why I said above that they need to explain it to you in a way that makes sense to you.  It’s the difference between accepting a diagnosis (or a tendency to push for that diagnosis by some people) of autism, and getting a diagnosis that fits not only Ray’s  symptoms, but also his personality.

Writer’s Write

I was so proud of myself yesterday. I wrote 3 pages. Yahoo! Not sure if it will be a short story, or just a character study, but I had a great day! I was proud of myself, and of the three pages.

Today, not so much.

I got called back into work. The joy just kind of got sucked out of my life today. Hopefully tomorrow will be different. Because I don’t want to be that person that allows another person in a pissy mood to ruin my day. I hate being that girl, being that “sensitive”. So the goal is to find the joy.

Lets get cracking!

(Of course, American Idol day 2 will be on tomorrow night, too! Lots of fun stuff to watch there! Bikini girl should never have been allowed to go on to Hollywood– that type of disresepect might make for good front end shows, but not a good music competition. And cute little pink cowgirl— how cute was she? Remember when you used to have that much awe, and joy in what you’re doing? Try and do that today– remember what it was like to be so totally devoted to something, so totally in love with an idol, activity, what ever. GO! )

Was it Sunday?

So today was a big Sunday for both my little family and the church family in general. And ok, my family (with 5 siblings), isn’t actually that small. STILL…

Today was Bri’s first time speaking in front of the church. He had the 9:30am Worship service, which is a great way of breaking in new speakers– 15 minutes, to get the congregation uplifted before Sunday School and regular church services. Also, Josh, my brother’s youngest son, was baptized.

Oh, I was looking forward to today.

Except… I wasn’t there. Nope. Momma get left behind. I’d love to say I was all philosophical about it, but the truth is that I was rather dissappointed, and I let it show. All day long.

Baby Ray was sick. Not just I have the sniffles sick, either. Nope. He had the “I’m waking up at 3am because I have a fever and I’m not going back to sleep unitl 4:30am and THEN I’m going to wake you up AGAIN at 6am.” sicky-poo.  A cough, sniffles and a slight fever. Nothing like the last fever he had, thank goodness. And the fever’s gone now. But between you and me… Nope. No way he was going to make it through church today. Plus, you can’t risk getting the other members sick.

SO. I know I could have asked Bri to come home during Sunday School (which I also enjoy with one glaring exception), and we could have switched off and at least I would have gotten to see Josh (Joshie! I remember you when you were no older than Ray! How could you be old enough -and then some- to be baptized already?) dunked by Daddy.

However.

But.

Brian was so excited. He was asking questions about the church, about membership, about this and that and the other thing. And did I think Josh would like this? And he was going to speak to it during the worship. And that kind of excitement is so nice to see in Bri’s eyes. Because he hasn’t always been very fond of the church or even of God. This is new to him, and the smaller church even newer still.

The only reason he started going to our little church that can is because of me. Because I was so terribly unhappy with the stadium seating and impersonal nature of the larger church. Originally, it was supposed to be 2 on, 2 off. (2 at my church, 2 at his). But he likes the people, he likes the church. Loves my dad. Has bonded after pot luck with my brother.

Yes. So I was dissappointed. But someone new to the Community of Christ was able to experience the excitement and joy of a baptismal Sunday.

Tea Cups: An Essay

My Mother’s Teacups

 

My mom always drank her coffee out of a teacup. It made her feel special.

 

It drove me nuts. Coffee mugs were for coffee, teacups for tea. I could not see drinking a robust coffee out of a dainty little cup, placed on a dainty little saucer. Besides, the coffee would leave a brownish stain on the lovely white china, making it look icky.

 

One time, we went camping ala Shelton (Mom’s version of roughing it was a motor home). Mom’s teacup for her coffee got broken. So I went down to the gift shop and started looking for teacups. As much as I hated that she did it, she was my mom and I wanted her happy. Besides, she wouldn’t drink any coffee and Dad and I were both about to lose it right along with her.

 

The gift shop had nice, dainty little teacups. Doll size, but they had them. We would have to give her 50 cups in order to make her human again.  Coffee mugs, on the other hand, they had in every shape, size, and color. They had cute sayings on them, pictures, the name of the campground we were at… The variety was mind boggling.

 

Then I saw it. A coffee mug. But not just any coffee mug. This one was shaped like a teacup, only larger and made of a sturdier material. It was a neat little mauve color that would match the interior of the motor home. It had a white circle in the middle, with a rose painted in the middle of the circle. The only thing it was missing was a saucer.

 

She was gonna love it. She was gonna drink her coffee and become human again. Heck, even Dad would love the cup.

 

So I bought the cup, and a little gift bag. The sales lady threw in some tissue, and we wrapped it at the counter. I went back to the RV, swinging the bag. I was going to make her happy. She would no longer be caffeine deprived.

 

Mom said she loved the cup. She filled it with coffee right away. Dad pulled me aside and paid me back for it, and slipped me a 10 to boot. I had done good.

 

Or had I?

 

A couple of weeks later, we were out on the road again. Mom was drinking her coffee from a dainty little teacup with a dainty little saucer.

 

“Where’s the cup I bought you?” I asked, trying to be nonchalant.

 

“Oh, it’s in the glove compartment,” she told me with a smile. “I do love that cup.”

 

Me being me, I had to look in the glove compartment. And there was the cup. No coffee stains for this cup, oh no. It would have too many ink stains in it from the pens she had plopped into it.

 

Now, is there a moral to this story? Not really. But I will tell you that ever since she left us, there have been two cups on my desk. One is a neat little mauve color and has some pens and pencils in it. The other is a nice, dainty little teacup that has pens, pencils, staple remover… You get the idea.

 

But when I look at the cups, I remember that sometimes it isn’t the big things that make us special. It’s the little things.

 

Like drinking coffee from teacups.

 

 

THE END

Giggles

Tonight was Brian’s Bible Study night, so it was just Ray and I.  Bri thinks that I kind of resent Bible Study night, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

I look forward to it.

It’s just Ray and I. The Ray and Mommy show. No competing with Daddy for time and attention.  We can go from playing with his cars to running amok to doing sticker art. We are flexible and fluid, going with the flow.

That’s not to say that there weren’t tears or tantrums– Ray is, after all, a 2 year old.

But tonight, when we went to lay down… I popped in a DVD of Disney’s My Friend’s Tigger and Pooh and he giggled. He laughed so hard, trying to imitate Tigger’s hiccups. Giggles and snuggles, then he went right to sleep.

Oh, no, I don’t resent Thursday Night bible studies at all. They’re too much fun.