Meme

Today I was tagged for a meme by "Amusing" at "amusingonlife" for this massive meme. 18 items must be the biggest one I've attempted yet.


1. What were you afraid of as a child?
The definition 'child' gives me pause. If you mean under 11 then absolutely nothing at all. Over 11 then it would probably be the dark.

2. When have you been most courageous?
I have never been courageous about anything, I am an out and out, fully signed up member of the wimp brigade. I wear my yellow stripe with pride.

3. What sound most disturbs you?
Dentist's drill. Actually any noise within a dentists office is enough to send me off to the funny farm.

4. What is the greatest amount of physical pain you’ve been in?
Jaw surgery. Worse than giving birth drug free four times, even if it had been consecutive.

5. What’s your biggest fear for your children? (or children in general if you don’t have your own)
That they might not reach adulthood. That when they reach adulthood they might not have long enough lives. That any life that they do have might not be as happy as it might be.

6. What is the hardest physical challenge you’ve achieved?
Aerobics instructor course when pregnant with number 2.

7. Which do you prefer: Mountains or oceans/big water?
The sea. [translation = the ocean]

8. What is the one thing you do for yourself that helps you keep everything together?
Read.

9. Ever had a close relative or friend with cancer?
My mum. Breast cancer, ten years ago and faring well now.

10. What are the things your friends count on you for?
I have no idea?

11. What is the best part of being in a committed relationship?
Always someone on hand to annoy.

12. What is the hardest part of being in a committed relationship?
Their infuriating annoyingness.

13. Summer or Winter? Why?
Late Spring in the UK, early Spring in the States.

14. Have you ever been in a school-yard fight? Why and what happened?
We didn't have school yards we had play grounds.

15. Why blog?
Ummmmmmm?

16. Did you learn about sex, and/or sex safety from your parents?
No I was told the facts of life by my chum when we walked to school together one day, when I was about ten. I laughed like a drain and told her the real truth, that they come out of your tummy button.

17. How do you plan to talk to your kids about sex and/or sex safety?
I answer the questions when they come in an age appropriate manner, or rather this is what I have done for both the girls, I may need to alter my approach.

18. What are you most thankful for this year?
This year? As in 2007, or this year as in the last 12 months? Happy to answer following clarification.

So who am I supposed to tag? How many? Hmm? Let's see.

"Elissa" from "managing autism."

"Mary [MPJ]" from "Mamampj"

"Blissfulmama" from "mumkeepingsane"

"Furiousball" at "furiousball"

"MmomOf3" at "Momofonetwothree"

If I've not tagged you, have a go yourself and then get back to me so that I can come and take a peek - I nosy like that!

Cheers and a very happy Thanksgiving to everyone who stops on by.


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Seven more

"MomNOS" from "MomNOS" has tagged has tagged me for a meme, in which I am instructed to:

1) Link to the person that tagged you, and post the rules on your blog.
2) Share 7 facts about yourself.
3) Tag 7 random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.
4) Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

1. I volunteer at the children's school for their reading programme which means that I count how many books each child reads and give a presentation with positive feed back.

2. I am not very good at it even though I practice beforehand and have three different versions for small special needs children, slightly bigger special education children and typical bigger children.

3. I wear a tall 'cat in the hat' hat during the presentation in a feeble attempt to attract their attention, as well as red and black clothes for the same reason. I always come in still wearing my sunglasses to complain that the room is too dark. Eventually someone will tell me where I'm going wrong.

4. Because they're learning cursive I wrote all their names on their chart in English Round Hand [calligraphy]. This means that Ian and Jan look very similar. None of them can read their own names now. This is just the kind of positive feedback that youthful persons most need. Although my performance is largely scripted, I was nervous at the beginning of the school year. The class had expanded from 21 to 32. When I arrived I noticed that they seemed so much larger, almost teens, so I checked, "are you the pupils from Form 4?" I looked over their discombobulated faces, all 31 on them, until I found the 32nd, who decided to help out, "STEW dense Mom! An it's GREYED four." We wasted a considerable amount of time disentangling the function of the eye and the optical nerve.

5. Last time I read them a poem, called 'sick' by Shel Stevenson. * I ordered them to listen because it was funny and would be very useful if they ever needed to bunk off school. No-one understood 'bunk.' The teacher gave me the evil eye. At the end, a wise and small American child advised me that it would be very unwise to pretend to be ill.

6. I agreed with him and told him to ignore stupid foreigners, thus demonstrating more political incorrectness. I accidentally patted him on the head in a friendly manner and then remembered that you're not supposed to touch children if they're not yours. The same kindly child did not report me for inappropriate physical contact, which he could both say and spell. Hence I can 'do' and 'say' politically incorrect very well.

7. I finished my presentation with an even funnier ditty called 'One fine day.' They all laughed a lot and very loudly. I now know that it is thoroughly inappropriate material for small American people. I could tell because I made print outs of both poems for the children to take home. The teacher suggested it might be better if the print outs remained in school.

Aren't you so glad I don't volunteer in your children's class and corrupt them. This is one very good reason why I eschew parent participation schools, because there will be people like me there.

*Sick

Sick "I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more - that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue -
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke -
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb,
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my spine is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is -
what? What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is ... Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"

-- Shel Silverstein






I apologise in advance to anyone who finds the following offensive. In my experience people with disabilities have the greatest sense of humour of us all lesser beings. If you doubt me, I would recommend that you listen in to the podcast [free] of the BBC 'Ouch' programme.



One fine day in the middle of the night

One fine day in the middle of the night,
Two dead men got up to fight,
Back to back they faced each other,
Drew their swords and shot each other,

One was blind and the other couldn't, see
So they chose a dummy for a referee.
A blind man went to see fair play,
A dumb man went to shout "hooray!"

A paralysed donkey passing by,
Kicked the blind man in the eye,
Knocked him through a nine inch wall,
Into a dry ditch and drowned them all,

A deaf policeman heard the noise,
And came to arrest the two dead boys,
If you don't believe this story’s true,
Ask the blind man he saw it too!

Now that I am grown up, I appreciate that this is about as politically incorrect as anyone could muster.



Unlike "MomNOS" I have decided to democratic in my tagging, as well as impartial because I am practicing being a good American, so I shall the tag the next 7 people who are silly enough to have left comments, because I am writing this in the future and tagging people in the past, because I'm also very good at time travel.

So the first foolish person "Roxan" at "kickshawcandies." aka "something wicked comes this way."

Then Kyra who is blogless - what a situation to be in! And no email on her profile! Can you imagine?

Then, "Joeymom" at "Joeyandymom"

So is that 3 or does that only count as two? Anyway, the next victim willing or otherwise is "The glasers" at "aut2bhomeincarolina."

Then we have my favourite late night visitor, an owl if ever there was one, "Kristina" at "Autismvox" but that's the price you pay for not being asleep at 17 minutes past one in the morning!

Then there is "Kelley" who also pootled along in the wee small hours of the morning, but she's forgiven because she lives upsidedown in Australia at "Magnettobold." no mean feat I can tell you.

"Casdok" over at "Mother of Shrek" bimbled along at some unearthly hour or the morning, although 2 a.m. here is 10 a.m. there, which is probably the ideal time to be awake on a Saturday morning, given the option, which I am not.

Lucky number six was "Akelemalu" over at "Everything and Nothing" who has a fun piece up right now, so don't miss it. That's my kind of humour.

Lastly we have "Vi" who is a big rudey, but what else can you expect from those Aussies. This particular brave Aussie has transplanted to the delightful city of Bath in England where so many of Jane Austen's characters lived out their demure and sophisticated lives as all proper Brits should. Look out at "Are you local???" I dread to think what kind of mischief she's getting up to, I can almost feel a touch of the vapours coming on.





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Come in number 2, your time is up - More Painful than pulling teeth

Well most of them are, aren’t they? All those discrete tasks and skills that you need to teach your autistic child, depending upon how low your ‘patience battery’ runs. Mine is always on ‘recharge now to avoid losing all data.’ To be fair, we are on far more advanced skills than we once were, but seeing the dots and connecting them, would appear to be two separate tasks. ‘Your mission, should you care to take it….’ is to connect the dots.

Let’s face it, teaching "social skills" to autistic children is not easy. I’m not talking about P’s and Q’s, nor which knife to use in which order. If only it were that simple. I’d happily teach a course in the art of using finger bowls or sugar tongs, over my present workload. No, we’re talking about the often intangible reciprocal exchanges that are effortless if you are neurotypical but hard to grasp if you have a different skill set.


Now that my children are aware that they have siblings and additionally, sometimes wish to spend time in each other’s company, we find that all too frequently, the other sibling is not in visual contact. Fortunately, we have overcome the ‘missing from visual contact’ equates to ‘invisible, magical, or death.’ So you can see how far we have come.

So how do you go about finding your missing sibling? That’s right, we look for them. We have also mastered this huge step. We do not have to endure a meltdown because we do not have ‘finding’ skills. Yes, we have found our ‘finding skills.’ I no longer have to remind them to use their eyes to look! What a triumph. Now I am witness to various children wandering around the house, using their eyes, looking for a lost sibling. It is too fabulous to describe. However, it’s time consuming.

If for any reason, [many] the searcher fails to find the searchee, that is when the meltdown occurs, much further along the time line. Hooray!

Thus we need to finely hone our searching skills. What else might assist, failing a GPS tracker attached to the forehead? That’s right. Go to the top of the class! We can use our words! How could we have forgotten that one? Which words could we use? Yes! The name of the person that we are looking for, which helps distinguish between different family members and may pre-empt a stampede of responses. It is better to travel hopefully than to arrive.

What else? We could say that ever useful phrase, ‘where are you?’ Everyone knows that one surely? Can we put these two together? Can we verbalize them?..........
Yes we can! Horray.

So the final piece, is to assist the searchee – when you hear someone say ‘where are you?’ then it’s your turn to say ‘here I am!’ You need to respond, you need to use your words………… we’re working on it.

Actually, we probably need to add another last final step. We need to be able to slip effortlessly from searcher to searchee role, and then back again as necessary. Anything else? There’s always something else that I’ve forgotten until I trip over it.

Maybe sometime soon, I will become a deaf mother, as everyone runs around the house screaming each other’s names. I hope.

I think it’s only fair to warn everyone in advance, that if we don’t experience ‘growth’ in this area soon, I will have no other option that to attach retractable washing lines to each one of them, or failing that, elastic.

Send me a postcard!

We are off on our hols, but we we'll be back soon.

In the meantime, here are a few posts that you have may be missed before I joined the Hub.

Leave me a little note so I'm not all lonesome when we get back.
[translation = chance would be a fine thing!]

1. "The Joys of Autism - Progress for all"

2. "High What?"

3. "No Way Jose!"

4. "I am not a princess"

5. "Ear Wigging"

6. "Static"

7. "Trying not to be critical"

8. "Plan A"

9. "Hemorrhaging"

10. "Mother Knows Best"

11. "Umpire"

12. "Fixations - what to do?"

13. "Undiagnosed - are you quite sure?"

14. "Tentative Steps"

15. "Progress"

16. "Wife Beating and recouperation"

17. "Do we have to?"

18. "Come in Number 2 your time is up"

19. "Secretarial Skills"

20. "A Rose"

Qualitative Vibraters – but does it work?

Like most families, my children are a variety pack. [translation = should have gone for the clone option] Ideally, I would like them all to behave in the same manner under any given set of circumstances. [translation = a need for predictability, routine and sameness] Since my offspring fail to meet my requirements in this regard, I have had to adapt. [translation = Darwinism]

Whilst I am allergic to shopping, I would have to admit, with reluctance, that my house is full of items that I have purchased. [translation = with the very best of intentions] I have made a considerable number of errors with my buying habits, as evidenced by the weighted vest. This was supposed to calm and ground my older son. I am uncertain whether the item in question, failed to ground him, or merely kept him pinned to the floor, but that is why it is so important to nail down your parameters before you start?

So, saying, whilst the vest failed for him, it had quite a different effect on Mr. Sparky. One of my [many] mottoes, is ‘if in doubt, try the other one.’ [or two] Hence, once I had managed to woman-handle my youngest son into the loathsome garment [with scratchy bits] he did indeed become calm. [translation = reduction in spark emissions plus or minus 7, to a significance of 0.5] [ish]

Habituation, should of course be our watchword, or maybe ‘addiction’ might be more apt? Certainly, once he was in it, thereafter I was unable to extract him from it. It became his second skin. [scratchiness and all] This was not an outcome I would have predicted. [translation = or guessed]

I could attempt to list further experiences in this regard, but for the moment, we will simply fast forward to the current investment: the sound machine. To recap, in brief, the sound machine will calm my sons and assist their ability to relax and drift off into blissful, dreamful sleep, with the added benefit of drowning out motor mouth. Thusly, was my logical prediction. [translation = feeble hope]

Currently, on day [or night?]……3, we determine the following.
1. The sound machine is adored by senior but loathed by junior. [Translation = they of course share the same bedroom]
2. My daughter is miffed at being completely left out of the equation. [translation = the usual bad rap of the typical sibling]
3. ‘loathed by junior’ roughly translates to ‘screams his head off.’ This would not be considered an improvement over the motormouth status.

Hence, I now have two moaners and one happy child. [translation = not a good percentage rate, especially if the object of the exercise is blissful happy sleep] All too often around here, the ‘object of the exercise’ is buried. [translation = I forget what I was trying to achieve in the first place] Fortunately, others around here are now able to take matters into their own hands. [translation = self advocacy]

Spouse and I debate ‘what to do now?’ downstairs in the family room. [translation = it is too loud upstairs with one screamer, one moaner and a happy one that is purring {plus two cats}]
“Perhaps we could swap them around?”
“How do you mean?”
“Put the sound machine with attached child in the single room, and leave the other two together, sound machine free?”
“We could put noise reduction headphones on him, and music headphones on her?”
“That’s always a possibility, but they always get tangled up during the course of the night.”
“True.”
“What else?”
“Take it back to the shop?”
“Throw it away?” [translation = recycle]
“Listen!”
“Listen to what?”
“Exactly!”
“What am I listening too?”
“Semi silence!” We stand in the middle of the family room staring at the ceiling. [translation = the bedrooms are directly overhead. Maybe we have x-ray vision?]

I creep upstairs. I peer into the semi gloom of the first room, where my daughter languishes. [translation = sleeps in a thoroughly untidy manner] One hands clutches a free gift, a small plastic guitar that plays the same 20 bar tune in an unending cycle. [translation = until the battery runs flat]

Next door, Junior is asleep, mouth open and drooling. [translation = must practice lip closure exercises!] His brother is also asleep. [translation = although as often happens, his eyes are open] He has a soft cherubic smile on his face. There is no sound from the sound machine. Come to think of it, there is no sign of the sound machine? I am unable to detect it’s little green light?

I grovel around on the carpet. I find the socket, [translation = outlet] and the plug. I trace back along the cable, [translation = cord] hand over hand, to his bed. I peek under the duvet. He lies on the sound machine. It is in the middle of his tummy.

I lay the palm of my hand on the small of his back. I can only assume that the thing also vibrates? Or maybe it’s warm? Or perhaps it’s the texture? Or maybe it’s territorial? Or maybe it’s consideration for other people’s aversions? But my life is a guessing game not science. I’ll have to extract it! The sound machine, that is to say. An electronic device in close contact with potentially wet pull-up would not be a happy combination.

So in answer to the question ‘yes, but does it work?’ I can only offer the inadequate explanation above. But as a professor once told me, ‘first define your terms.’

An institutional diet

I pick up four pairs of socks and three unmatched singletons, evidence that I have no influence or control over the 7 children in my home.

I can count to seven.

Seven is indeed my favourite number but I cannot say with any degree of certainly why I have four additional children in my house? Did I double book myself twice? How has this come about?

I give up and commence snack creation for the masses as malnutrition is imminent. I have a basic knowledge of four of them, one typical, 3 autistic. The overall ratio is a challenge, but probably only for me. I calculate the probability and possibility that one or more additional children will still be present at supper time? Which one, or more, is likely to be forgotten about or subject to the delayed parent, who drowns in traffic and rain? Is there any food substance on the planet that five autistic children and two typical children all eat, preferably something that I already have on hand?

I have a 33.5 ounce catering carton of Goldfish Crackers. If push comes to shove, will any parent thank me for feeding their child four and a half ounces of Goldfish or shall I been condemned as a gluten wrecker? Is four and a half ounces of Goldfish enough to sustain life for a period of 4 to 5 hours? How many calories does the average active child require per hour anyway? Why do I not already know any of these things?

During the car journey from school, I managed to determine that 5 people can just about contemplate the challenge of drinking water in a strange home because they have soda free, juice free variety of autism, by personal preference. I have no Dr.Pepper, Sprite or Coke for my daughter’s pal, who is not impressed with the water option.

I learn, to my surprise, that American girls drink neither milk nor orange juice, even under exigent circumstances. Even more surprising, is the fact that American girls do not eat Goldfish Crackers because they are considered baby food, or in the alternative, that they ruin a diet. I am alarmed that a ten year old girl is knowledgeable, extremely knowledgeable, about diets at all.

“What it is be?” hollers my seven year old as we burst into the kitchen.
“Christmas! Bah boogie home!”
“What is what dear?”
“Christmas! Bah boogie home!” bellows one.
“That stinky smell?” Children gather around the screamer and the source of the stink.
“Christmas! Bah boogie home!” Chorus two.
“What is that thing anyways?”
“Christmas! Bah boogie home!” creeps the mantra.
“It’s a bread maker. Where does that phrase come from? It’s nearly February.”
“Christmas! Bah boogie home!” Chant three
“A bread maker? Geez I’ve never seen such a thing.”
“Christmas! Bah boogie home!” Call four.
“Sure smells good. Is it ready yet? I think it comes from 'Olive the Other Reindeer' movie.”
“Christmas! Bah boogie home!” Shout five at an ever increasing volume.
“Another couple of minutes, you can see it on the display, the LED.” Little faces peer with interest through the little glass window at the billowy loaf.
“Christmas! Bah boogie home!” They’re stuck, all of them.
“Can you eat it?”
“Christmas! Bah boogie home!”
“Most certainly, in just a few secs. What comes after stereo? If there’s five of them, it can’t be quadraphonic?”
“Christmas! Bah boogie home!” They repeat.
“I don’t know, but it sure is loud. Can it be our snack?”
“Christmas! Bah boogie home!” I’m used to 2 repeating a phrase. I have adapted to 4 children repeating a phrase, once a week, on a Friday afternoon. I incapable of adjusting to 5 children repeating the same phrase with the required immediacy. I glance at my ear plugs with longing.
“Of course.”
“Christmas! Bah boogie home!” Despite the noise, folklore infiltrates my troubled mind: ‘sing out of season, get trouble without reason.’ It has a whole new significance.
“Why is it so……..hot? And why are they so loud?”
“Christmas! Bah boogie home!”
“Because it’s cooking and because there’s five of them. O.k. you can say that three more times and then I don’t want to hear it again. Deal?”
“Christmas! Bah boogie home!”
“You cook bread?”
“Christmas! Bah boogie home!”
“Yes, or rather bake.”
“Christmas! Bah boogie home!”
“Times up guys. Time to choose another phrase.” I lift the bread out and envelop everyone in a cloud of steam. They all take a step backwards as I wield the bread knife and place a slice on each plate. The girls leap on the loot to take it to the table. We are all assembled, a jug, ice free awaits with tumblers. We eat the diet of cell mates, free of a chain gang, all seven on bread and water.

Silent munching reigns for a few moments……before they start, again.

“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells………”




New post up on "Alien."

Brillante Weblog Award

"Isabel" over at "Change Therapy" is a woman that I admire hugely as she does the psychobabble for real! Be assured that if you have a 'problem' which of course we never refer to as a 'problem,' she has the matter covered from every which way and back again.



Awardees, when you receive this post, here is what you are invited to do:

1. add the logo of the award to your blog
2. add a link to the person who awarded it to you
3. nominate at least 7 other blogs
4. add links to those blogs on your blog
5. leave a message for your nominees on their blogs

and here they come.

Drumroll! I shall number them this time merely so that I'll know when I reach 7. Warning! All the following people have very big brains. [Visit with dictionary in your back pocket or prop yourself up on the double OED like me!}

1. To "Emily" at "A Life Less Ordinary" and you'd better believe it! Just ignore the fatty pants.

2. To "Mom - Not Otherwise Specified" at "Momnos" because parents who work out of the home deserve all the awards in the world.

3. To "Kristina Chew" at "Autism Vox" but don't call her proff as that would probably be disrespectful. Do you know why proffs carry those proff bags? For their overflowing brain particles. Can't be seen leaking in front of students.

4. To "Autism Diva" as that "video" needs dusting, but then you can't expect people with lots of letters after their names to be bothered with cleaning, that's my role, to nip round with my feather duster and bird brain.

5. To "Estee" at the "Joy of Autism" but don't phone her as the line is permanently engaged at the moment.

6. To "Abfh" at "Whose Planet is it Anyway" where we can do politics too! Don't be afraid to weigh in with your opinion!

7. Finally to "Oddizms" and I bet you've never seen anything like that before! But I'm always happy to be corrected.

Cheers dears