Potato heads and loose chips

I wash up at the kitchen sink.

Next to me, Nonna leans on the counter for a closer look at the gimmicky, techy photograph frame, the one with the chip and the constant rolling pictures.

“Where is dat one den?” she asks with a quivering pointy finger for emphasis. I lean to the left but I’ve already missed it.

“Um what was it of?”
“You know.”

I guess. As the current image rolls away and try to calculate which would have been the one before it? If there are 78 photographs on the chip and we’re about half way through, so they’re about three or four years old, so that would have been our trip to England so that would have been….
“Ooo what about dat one den?” she asks with a quivering pointy finger for emphasis.

I lean to the left but I’ve already missed it. “Um what was it of?”
“You know.”

I pout and reach for the sack of potatoes to peel so that I re-use the water, even though it’s still a bit tepid.

“What about dat one den?” I lean to the left and we bump shoulders accidentally and face each other. “Wot?”
“Um?”
“Dat one?”
“Er?”
“In your………..hand.”
“The potato.”
“The potato. What about the potato.”
“Is it American?”
“Er……yes……we’re in America…..I think it’s safe to say that this is indeed an American potato.”
“No!”
Beam me up Scotty!
“No?”
“I mean…..is it one of those……..what is it……begins with an ‘i’?”

I think. I think hard. What is a vegetable that looks like a potato but begins with an ‘i’? When Nonna’s son walks in looking ever so slightly dazed, I lean backwards, so that I can interrupt his path, stare at him and give him ‘the look.’ He startles in response, “what?”
I whisper, “if you don’t answer the next fifty questions I swear I won’t be responsible for my actions!” I wave the peeler in front of him for emphasis.
“Oh right. MORNING MUM!” he bellows putting an arm around her shoulders just to startle her.
“Be gentle!” I snap as she wobbles to regain her balance.
“Ooo what about dat one den?”
“Dunno.”
“I’m not askin you, I’m asking Maddy. Maddy, what about dis one den?”
I glare at her son who sputters, “well I don’t know do I?”
“Maddy, is dat a mouse picture?”
Her pronunciation of ‘picture’ is exquisite.

I relent.

I will explain the mouse picture to both of them for umpteenth time.
“Well…..it’s a VOLE……do you remember?”
“A what?”
“VOLE!”
“Oh yes. I remember you said dat. Was it really in the house?”
“YES.”
“How did it get dere den?”
“THE CAT BROUGHT IT IN AS A PRESENT.”
“Which one?”
“NOT THESE CATS, THE CATS WE HAD BEFORE, 5 YEARS AGO.”
“Oh yes. Jasper and Meadow. I remember. They were beautiful cats too.”


Sharp as a tack!

"! Idaho!"

A Souvenir from England

Yes it's a delightful pet rock. Maybe you could find a littler one?








O.k. if you can carry it then we'll pack it.






Oopsie, looks like that one won't be flying "international."




If by any chance you happen to have a free mo [and which one of us doesn't?] perhaps you could pop along and take a peek at this video about the use of the word "Retard" in the upcoming [already here?] movie called "Tropic Thunder."

Then, if you still have additional mo's, you might nip over in support of "ASAN" who are hoping to discourage the use of the "R" word. You might always just comment 'Rah, Rah, Rah' instead.

I know that free mo's are few and far between at this time of year but you can find the "back story and advice" if you nip over here to "Patricia E Bauer's" discussion.

The comments there are also especially interesting.

You may even wish to add your own opinion to the list, one way, or alternatively the other.

Best wishes

p.s. for a more comprehensive spectrum "Liz Ditz" from "I Speak of Dreams" covers the "start" to present development regarding the "R" word.

Brillante Weblog

"Frog's Mum" over at "4 Green and Speckled Frogs" has been kind enough to give me this natty little award! She certainly deserves that award after seeing that fabulozo "video." Bless his little cotton socks.....er......or maybe bare little tootsies that aren't webbed!

So first to "Carrie" at "Fully Caffeinated," I bet she drinks it by the vatful just like me. Is she ever "smokin hot!" Note casual use of American colloquialism!

Then to "Jess" over at "Diary of a Mom." I'm going to have to recheck this post as I keep muddling my 'mums' and 'moms' which probably means that someone's going to nip along at hit me with one of these pretty soon.





If you're new to her blog you might like to start off here at her post called "The Kandinksy is painted on two sides."

Then to "Velma" at "A Smeddling Kiss" If you happen to be a newbie, check out the "Savage Chickens" on her Sunday post. For some unaccountable reason I'm unable to link to that page directly?

Also for "Rhemashope" as the poor benighted woman needs a little sweetness in her life. Whilst I'm more of a crisps and nuts kindofagal, other people have different "cravings."

Then for "Tammy" or maybe just "Parker?" because little toes are always irresistible.

Also for "Melody" at "Melody is Slurping Life" because I need to ensure that she is fully obliged to deliver on her video promise. O.k. so it wasn't really a promise but we can always do with a dollop more guilt, right?

Then to "Dantes Inferno with Children" because she could do with the distraction either right now, or when she gets back.

Also to "Michelle" a lovely little peacemaker, would that we could all just get along and play nice.

Ooo it's like Piccadilly "Circus" around here. I must be well over the limit.

I must have second "Sight" or something? Maybe I should leave that skill to the "experts?" I should just "let it be," afterall, "is this what you do all day?"

But you know how it is, some people are just so much more "Magnetic" than others. Some other others struggle with "perfection" but always in the most diplomatic manner and just still "others" often "wonder." Maybe I've "Bitten off" more than I can chew?

So let the "Force" with us and lets not get "Flushed Away" with our enthusiasm, especially those "working" so hard and never "Fear" as we are here learning "together" and having a "ball."

Don't let your neurosis "run away without you" or have too many "nightmares." We certainly make up a very interesting "Mosaic." There really are some "phenomenal" tales out there you know?

Out of time now petals, but it's a great cure for "insomnia" I'd highly recommend it.

If I offend "anyone" I apologize but my numb is brain and someone close to me is still very short in the word department. And should you ever be down in the dumps or suffer a short rash of self pity then nip along and "Hi de ho there!" to your pal and "mine."


Cheers dears zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Hello Again

"Hello again."

We love "Martha!"

So just lock me up and throw away the key.

Arte y Pico award

"The Excavator" over at "dark matter energy" a thoroughly high minded, not to say scientific blog[!] has very kindly awarded me this foreign thingy, because she knows that I am nothing if not a linguist.


Here are the rules: (from the Arte y Pico site itself)


1) You have to pick 5 blogs that you consider deserve this award, creativity, design, interesting material, and also contrubutes to the blogger community, no matter of language.

2) Each award has to have the name of the author and also a link to his or her blog to be visited by everyone.

3) Each award-winning, has to show the award and put the name and link to the blog that has given her or him the award itself.

4) Award-winning and the one who has given the prize have to show the link of "Arte y pico"blog , so everyone will know the origin of this award.

5) To show these rules.

The original site is in Spanish.

Firstly to "Mama Mara" over at "Mama on the Edge," certainly a label I can relate to! If you are new to her site, you might like to start off here at "on the edge. " For those not in the know vanilla pudding is nearly Blanchemange, an important detail as you need to appreciate the goop factor.

Maybe "Brillig's" latest efforts to encourage us to play and tell "all" might help swing things along. In any event her blog always gives me food for "thought."

Also for "Mamampj" as it sounds as if she is in need of a little gentle encouragement over on "A Room of Mama's Own." Don't we all wish we had one of those!

Then for "The Poor Mouth" and his dark side [tee hee] or maybe his "lighter" side if you're a newbie coz we've just gotta love the kitties!

Also for "Pundit Mom" [oops almost used a 'u' by accident!] I've been neglectful of late, but she always makes me think and that's definitely worth an award in my over burdened brain. Maybe I'll see "Paris" in a whole new light?


And lastly to Suzy. She is an infuriatingly haphazard blogger who definitely lacks regularity. If I'm honest, I loathe reading her postings as they are excruciating journey. I only go there because some time soon I shall be able to claim a personally signed copy of her book. When I have that book, I will stuff it under my pillow unopened. Every so often, when I feel very brave I will open it and take a peek, read a line, or maybe two, but I'll make sure I am alone. Maybe, just maybe, I'll break my rule. I'll skip to the last page because just like everyone else on her site, we are all longing for a happy ending. "Suzy" at her site called "Identity Crisis." Don't worry if you can't think of anything to intelligent to say in the comments, I never can either but Suzy won't mind, she's a very forgiving kind of a lass.

If I see 'blogger currently unavailable' one more time today I may just have an "MB" of my own.


Meanwhile, if you're in need of a little "tlc" or something "deeper," pop over and say "hello."

Comment of the week award - be a twit in private

<a href="http://whittereronautism.com/"><img src="http://i135.photobucket.com/albums/q158/mmcewen/Recipes-1-1.jpg" /></a>

[Inspired by "Scribbit."]

Tricky this week as there's been so many brilliant comments from sparkley commentators and of course it's only Friday evening which doesn't really count as the end of the week depending upon you're one of those Saturday Night Feverish types or the pleasantly straightlaced Sunday nighters, not that I should wish to tie my colours to either camp.

Perish the thought!

So to............

Susanne over "here" So helpful, practical and big hearted, but would you believe it? The poor woman is blogless, what a state of affairs!

Thusly instead or rather also, the award goes to.....

"Amanda" for her comment "here"
which we can view as a 'how to not be a twit in public 101' which reads as follows:-

'For holding doors — I’d say don’t do it without asking. I just heard from someone who managed to become severely injured because they were disabled and had to go through doors their own way, someone held it open for them, and they fell through and crashed to the ground.

And every wheelchair user has stories about people who hold the door open but stand in a place where the person can’t get through it (and for those of us who can’t talk, we can’t necessarily do “excuse me” especially with our hands full).

If you get a grouchy reply — don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s probably just about the person having a bad day (maybe having had 20 similar conversations the same day and just being sick of it like anyone could get), not about you in particular.

What’s weird to me is how when I need help there’s usually nobody around, but when I don’t need help there’s five people grabbing at my chair and lifting it up off the ground to carry it who knows where (I’m serious). Just one of those weird things in life.'

and for helping us all understand a little better, until my next "blunder." Some of us just aren't safe inside or "out!"

Cheers dearies

Quicky Quirks

"Michelle" over at "Just a Minute" tagged me for this supposedly quick meme. Is she a big fat fibber or merely a white little liar?

Odd that she should pick me to tag for this one seeing as how I am completely quirk free, she must have muddled me up with some other oddity. People! Really!


Apparently, these are the rules:-

Rules:

1) Link to the person who tagged me.
2) Mention the rules.
3) Tell six quirky yet boring, unspectacular details about myself.
4) Tag six other blogger´s by linking to them.
5) Go to each person’s blog and leave a comment that lets them know they’ve been tagged.

Here are my replies.

1. I always forget to do '5' as I'm no good at rules!
2. I wear my watch on my right wrist even though I am not left handed.
3. I used to be ambidextrous due to a long series of broken wrists and arms due to a spate of falling:- out of trees, off walls, into holes. The American term for this is Klutz. The English term for this is clot or butter limbs.
4. I used to have dark brown hair. Then I had steel grey hair with lots of wild wiry bits. Now I am a bottle blond bimbo, cap screwed on tight with lots of bims but very few bo's.
5. I am a multitasking supremo; swig vats of coffee whilst I do the laundry, twitter and whitter, therapize, hide and seek lost things, dead head the chickens and stuff the roses, all at once.


Now I tag the following victims:-

"Furiousball"
"LouCeel"
"Broken Man" coz I know you'd be great in the confessional!
"Linda"
"Hammer" who will no doubt demonstrate his very best politeness skills!
"David" coz he's always such a good sharer!
"Lime" because I meant to steal her last one but I never quite got around to it.
"The Blogess" although I suspect she a big too icey. If you have a mo nip over and check your neurosis "here."
"Angela" because I am rotten pal and more neglectful than I ever thought possible, and we may all learn something "useful" over "here."
"Franky" because she needs to get her crank started.
"Joke" because I think we're both fans of the 3 degrees or is that six?
"Steve" if he can put some clothes on first.
"Dulwichmum" as she gonna add some class! Yeah right!

Meanwhile I've taken "Frog's" mum's advice and staring at the ceiling.

Cheers dears

Assertiveness training

My oldest son talks less frequently than some other children, but he does "talk."


When he was younger than he is now, people often saw fit to remark upon his early attempts at communication in a less than complimentary manner. Stutters and stammerers are used to such treatment. The struggles of speech production are rarely appreciated, merely mocked. Initially I was ill equipped to either retaliate or educate. I took solace in the lonely thought that "I knew otherwise." I knew that his instincts were "keen."






Empowerment is an annoying but popular word. As a natural born wimp from birth, at some moment on the journey I decided to adopt this approach for my own children, not the wimpy but the empowering. I would learn to speak up, not be mealy mouthed, challenge and stand tall, but I’m still practicing.



***



I launch into a monologue of the glories of one of our cats. His attractive appearance, skittishness and howling yeowl. I wax lyrical of his charms, more dog like than cat, more intelligent and delightful than the average feline.








My son takes a step towards me to look me straight in the midriff.
“Mom?”
“Yes dear?”
“It’s not nice to have favourites.”

Some people learn better than others.

Theory of Mind Challenge Game

Now you know "me," I wouldn’t be one to start a "trend" or anything so outrageous, but as I climb a new developmental curve, I think it’s only fair to "share."

This is “On the Psychologist’s Couch” time, or maybe the "psychologist's chair."

"Step into the shoes" of someone of significance in your life.
Try and imagine how they see your relationship with them, child or adult, their perspective.

Be as honest as you can.

I’ve chosen my "Mother in Law" because I sort of try to ‘do’ the children all the time.

No rush.

No pressure.

Lots of time!

If you’re up to the challenge, give me a tinkle on completion…........
er……...…?…......link or e-mail.



This will only work if you can imagine a very strong "Italian" accent. How we love the "Italians."

Whilst I have never asked her directly. [perish the thought!] But if you asked her what she thinks of me, she might say something like this:-

“I think she is basically a good woman and he could have done a lot worse if truth be told. I like her, you know, but I just think she spends far too much time cleaning everything. I’ve never seen anyone do so much cleaning, especially when everything is already clean. Why does she do that?

I know she’s trying to teach them good table manners but I just don’t see the point of a butter knife, it just makes more washing up. What's a few crumbs between family? Why does she do that I wonder?

I try to keep out of her way as she is always rushing around doing heaven knows what. I get my own snacks so as not to be a bother.

When she’s not cleaning she’s cooking. Cooking, cooking, cooking, I can’t think why, there’s only 6 or 7 of us? I always say ‘never trust a skinny cook!’ Then, if I take a little slice of bread, because you know I am a diabetic so I have to be careful, and she then runs after me with a plate in one hand, a dust pan and brush in the other hand, a cloth and a spray cleaner in the other hand because of course you know she thinks she has six hands or something.

I would say one thing though. She is very good at laundry. I make sure I take all my white clothes to America when I visit.

You know what they say, ‘a son’s a son til he gets a wife, but a daughter’s a daughter the rest of your life.’ I never had a daughter of my own so I don’t know if that’s true. I like her bog. She sends me it every day. It keeps me in touch when I am in England. Generally I don’t get on with women very much, but I think if you can tease someone, then maybe you can’t ask for much more than that.

It is a very noisy happy household, so I don't bother with my hearing aides. I can tell when she's yelling because her freckles seem luminous on that puce complexion.

I just wish she would slow down, you know, because at my age I know that life can be so very, very……..well, you know….........short.”

We love you Nonna, and thanks for doing the ironing, one chore I never do, coz you know I’m allergic to that!

We are not one

We split up. Divide and…….....hobble through. I take the child who has no words to the supermarket, for a mega shop before our guests arrive. To be fair, out guests are also very good friends. We could feed them Goldfish Crackers and water with no ill effects.

On arrival, after a unimaginably smooth transition, I read an item from the list aloud and he hurtles off with his telescope pinned to his eye ball, a game.

In less than 20 minutes we have a groaning trolly, overflowing at the check out. The bagger, a familiar face, is unusually cheerful. We exchange pleasantries. I notice him read the pull-up details and glance at my son, askew. He pops the paper prescription sack into a grocery bag, but not before checking for shop lifter additions and maybe the name?

For the first time ever, I notice that the bagger has a physical disability. I cannot decide if this is because I am abnormally distracted, abnormally undistracted on this particular occasion or completely unobservant. I mention my observation to him. I smile at him encouragingly, because we are all members of the same club, because I am an idiot. He winces because I am crass, inappropriate and extremely rude. With my ignorance caught on display, I cannot work out whether to apologise or simply shut up? I conclude that I am the one who is really not safe to be let out in public.

My son observes the checker with his telescope, in silence. I decide to move on although I’m not sure if it’s to hide my own embarrassment or his? “Are you going over to the Farmer’s Market tonight or is that considered treason?” I ask the bagger. He purses his lips in response. I feel waves of self pitying shame wash over me.

My son parks himself between my legs on the floor, horizontal, still in silent observation mode. Fortunately I wear trousers. As I struggle with payment I search for a life line. My son observes his own reflection in the mirror, which is strategically placed at floor level at an angle, thigh high, although I fail to comprehend the underlying strategy?
“Can I help you out with your bags today?” he asks in a tone that means the opposite.
“No thank you, my son will help.” We both look at my son who beams a toothy grin, which serves to say the day, for me at least.

Eye on the prize but close to the edge

I try to persuade my son to talk, but he has gone on strike. I leave the boys a mo whilst I think carefully why this should have suddenly happened, out of the blue. Although there are no words, the noise is filled with Pokemon noises. Nonna steps into the room, “they’re being very good, aren’t they?”
“It’s great to see them playing together.”
“Such dear little mice.”

I look at them pretending to be Charmeleon and Pikachu at battle stations, although not at war. The resulting din is an aural challenge, but only for me.

“Are you going to go and collect all those umbrellas in the garden?”
I can hardly make out her words nor make myself understood without going hoarse.
“Um…….yes…..maybe later.”
When the phone rings for the umpteenth time in one hour I let it go to the answering machine, so as not to break with tradition.
“You’re not going to do it now?”
“Um…..no…..I’m going to wait until they’re properly dry.”
“Did you know that one of those umbrellas is broken?”
“Is it? Oh dear.”
“What about this?” she flaps a piece of stale bread in front of me.
“Oh I’ll pop it in the bin.”
“What about the birds?”
“The birds?”
“Yes. Why don’t you put it out in the garden for the birds?”
“Um….well we do have several bird feeders but they’re all off the ground because of the cats.”
“Put it over then.”
“Over what?”
“Over the fence into the empty lot.” I look into the garden, maybe 25 yards to the fence and then back again. I watch her slice into the new fresh loaf on the counter with a paring knife. I check the children and the Pokemon and the siege. About 20 seconds if I really leg it. “O.k. back in a mo.”

In a mo I am back.

She brushes crumbs from the counter onto the bread board, sort of and then waves the board at me, “what about these then?” as crumbs scatter. She nods towards the fence thrusting the board towards me as a prompt. I check the family room for indications of escalation. “O.k. back in a mo.”

In a mo I am back.

I check the family room where other Pokemons have been roped in with string and scissors, which is possibly good.
“What about this then?”
“Um……”
“This peach stone.”
“Compost bin?”
“No……are you going to plant it?”
“Plant it? I suppose I could.”
“Are you going to do it now?”
“Now……er maybe later.”
“What shall I do with the stone then?”
“Er……just leave it on the counter, it’ll be fine.”
“Did you know that you left a spade outside?”
“Yes I haven’t quite finished planting yet.”
“Shall I put it away for you?”
“That’s kind but I was hoping I might get a chance to get out there later.”
“Am I wearing my hearing aids?”
“No I don’t think so.”
“What is the matter with you?”
“Pardon?”
“You’re not listening to me.”
“I am.”
“No you are not paying attention I think………what is the matter?”
“I’m just a bit worried.”
“Worried? Why are you worried?”
“He’s stopped talking.”
“Stopped talking?”
“Yes.”
“Bah! Don’t worry, he’ll talk soon enough. Enjoy the peace and quiet while you can.”

I ignore the phone and door bell simultaneously, it’s really very easy.

Three for the price of one

If you still need words, try over at "alien."

Coz I'm pooped.

Follow my lead or maybe hers?

I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t annoy me, but other people’s habits are just as ingrained as my own.

I don’t know how you get along with your mother in law but there are some fairly standard stereotypes associated with this relationship. Personally, I am greatly in favour of RDI. Not the RDI of autism but rather the RDI of Relative:Divorce Index, for those of us in the know. It’s just another one of those challenges that we have to tackle.


Part of my weekly routine is to dead head the roses on a Sunday morning, before it’s too hot and before we go ‘out.’ What with “one" thing and "another," my routine is off and petals brown on the bushes. It happens annually around this time of year, when the house is "full" and we slip into "holiday time."

During holiday time, it is Nonna’s routine to wander the garden in the early morning dew, during the breakfast mayhem indoors. As she walks, she snaps off the dead heads with her bare hands and drops them on the ground.

Inside we tackle each tortuous stage of our morning routine but out of the corner of my eye, I see those thorny dead heads amass, all ready to snare the unwary. The garden and "outside" generally, is already, and always has been, a challenge for the boys. The de-sensitization campaign is “ongoing." Currently his list of deadly weapons includes not only all things that could be termed ‘sharp’ but also a very wide range of rough textures. I know that later I shall have to test my own visual acuity to hunt down each and every one of those prickly spars, if I ever hope to have dinner outside.

I have no time to hunt as every minute of the day is already accounted for.

Rats!

Once breakfast is over, I combine clear up with supper preparation. I know that consumption of stuffed tomatoes is overly optimistic, but the food campaign is relentless. I leave them on the counter to come up to room temperature, ready to top, de-seed and assemble. Whatever happened to 'life is too short to peel a grape' or is it 'stuff an olive'?

In the heat of the season this doesn’t take long and all cooking must be completed prior to my own "meltdown."

The loose summer routine of summer days ticks forward. In between whiles I zip into the garden to scatter slug pellets with one hand and gather thorny twigs with the other. The plan is to zip for a few minutes in every one hour. 10 hours, ten handfuls and lots of "hand washing" until dinner.

We spend a considerable amount of time in the pool to decompress, cool off, therapize and fun. Lucky, lucky us.

As usual, I find that all of them are infinitely more coherent thereafter, calm, happy and on full beam.

“Hey Mom!”
“Yes dear,” I reply, not looking as I rub down his big brother with a huge sun crisped towel.
“Hey Mom!” he persists good naturedly. I look up. He stands next to the arbor in an ‘I’m a little tea pot’ pose. At the end of his spout is a perfect pincer grip, poised mid air. Across his face is a perfect cherubic grin. He reaches in towards the branch as I watch captivated, takes careful hold and snaps off a huge, woody thorn. I cannot read my own facial expression but it’s enough to send him scampering towards me with one outstretched rigid arm. He brakes in front of me as I’m kneeling. He lifts it to my nose for closer examination. I see his eye balls cross in concentration with his hot breath wafting over my face, a thorn between two buds. “You my son are the very bravest one!” I beam and break the spell.

He skips off with his prize as I hobble inside with his brother and his jelly legs wrapped up burrito style. I park him on the hardwood floor, vertical, feet end down as he wobbles to gain his balance. I lean on the kitchen counter and wait. His gyro kicks in and the towel is kicked off as he escapes. As I look down I notice a tomatoe is missing. I look across to the table, to Nonna enjoying a diabetic snack, “they’re very good these, did you know?”

I pout.

I think.

Maybe, if I am very lucky I will be granted the chance to visit my own married son, in the future. Perhaps in a foreign land. I might have brief glimpses of him during his very busy life. I will remain at home all day, every day with my daughter in law for two months solid.

I hope she's not a pouty little Madam? That would be so annoying.

Double Trouble

Whilst on holiday in England I pursue an exacting beauty routine. At my age I can’t be too careful. At all costs I must preserve what withers. These days there is no end of potions and lotions available to the half witted, such as myself. Thus when I dive in the shower with my Brillo pad once in every 24 hour period, I emerge ready to face the world.



I decide, seeing as how it is my Wedding Anniversary, that maybe I should make a little bit more of an effort. I rummage through my luggage for the newly purchased mascara. I left the five year old, dried up predecessor in the bin, in San Jose.

I discover that make-up has advanced since I last had occasion to use any. I recall noting some very fancy spectacles that opened out like doors to aid the visually challenged, but I don’t have any to hand. I struggle with wands without magic. I am certain that my nose is a more mountainous obstacle than it used to be or maybe my manipulation skills are less agile.

That said, I yank on a clean T-shirt, good to go.

I bounce out of the bed room to present myself to my husband….......…for his approval….......……which I prompt, “I’m all ready……......in my smart T-shirt….....….which is clean!” He glances in my direction with a child hanging off his elbow, a large child who appears to be suffering an attack of jelly legs.

"Oh yes…...very…...….er.....white!” I give up and bend down to tie someone’s shoe laces, as the shoe lace tying campaign has floundered.

My son examines me, an aerial view, “ooo I am like!”
“Thank you dear.” At least someone appreciates my efforts.
“I am have?”
“Have what dear? A clean T-shirt?”
“No.”
“Er……..what do you want?”
“I am want……er……have……..spiders on my eyes too.”

15 years in a nutshell [ish]

"Mary Lue" over at "Life the Universe and Everything" has tagged me for this meme. That's what I call a dare!

Think back on the last 15 years of your life. What would you tell someone that you hadn’t seen or talked to for 15 years? How would you sum up your life? You get 10 bullet points. A list of 10 things to summarize about you. At the end of your list, tag 5 more people and send on the love…

Since I am also taking "Karen's" advice about being brave, this will be my first and only ever video of me. I did warn you that I can only count up to seven.

Wish I'd worn a suit!

Wish I had a suit!

Sorry about the 'hat hair' I had to wear my birthday crown.

Sorry about the jewels, I had to wear them all to avoid favouritism.

Wish I knew how to edit video tapes. Eeek!

Hope I don't crack your screen.

Don't forget to wipe the spit off!

I won't be a big ol meany and tag anyone specifically but if you take up the challenge leave me a little linky poo.

Cheers dears

p.s. they weren't alone in the house, their Dad and Nonna were holding the fort so I could have a minute of alone time with you. Hey! It's my birthday! Wear a "dress!" From my barnyard to yours.

N.B. 'Bedlam' means chaotically noisy NOTHING else. Ooo I wish I could edit.


Ooo that's a good idea, I should have put a real arrow on my face!

Comment of the week

<a href="http://whittereronautism.com/"><img src="http://i135.photobucket.com/albums/q158/mmcewen/Recipes-1-1.jpg" /></a>

[Inspired by "Scribbit."]

Goes to............

This week I should like to nominate "Michell Pendergrass" who blogs over "here" at her blog called "Just a Minute" for comment on "Whoops a Daisy" which read as follows:-

'This is one of the best "tackling" stories I've read!! :)

And 75pts to you for making me laugh so hard on my blog wondering why I had a telly in the fireplace. I had to look at my own pictures to figure out what you were talking about!!'

So if you haven't already checked out her blog and you would like to check your own intelligence and visual acuity, then you can pop over and see for yourself at her post here, called "Tackle it Tuesday," then pop back again and let me know if you also have a telly in your fireplace? Honestly some people!

Whilst I'm here, I'd like to add this message from "Susan" in case anyone is interested in participating.


This is the original email:

I am writing to people who do disability blogs to see if they would like to participate as a blogger in an ADAPT action. In September we are off to DC to do some really amazing work. I would tell you more, but I am sworn to secrecy!

To get the word out - we are having a blogswarm. You will get press releases the same time the media does. You will have access to digital photos. Be on the inside of the action even if you can't be there.

In return for being a part of the blogswarm you will get a link to your blog on the special website created specifically for this action. This is an opportunity to make this a truly national action with bloggers across the continent spreading the word. We have the world at our fingertips!

If you are interested in being one of our bloggers - just send me an email to say you are in (and remind me of the URL of your blog) and I will add you to the bloggers list. If I don't hear from you, I will assume you are not interested. If I do hear from you I will send you a confirming email.

If you know anyone who blogs who you think might want to be on the inside on the ADAPT blogswarm - please feel free to forward this on. In unity and numbers we have unstoppable strength.

Susan


Susan Fitzmaurice


Cheers Dears

A Staycation in our own Wildlife preserved

I telephone my mum as I have been neglectful of late.

“Oh I’m so glad you called dear. We were beginning to wonder if you were still alive!”
“Yes, sorry about that, but it’s a bit hectic around here.”
“Hectic? But you’re all on holiday still aren’t you?”
“That’s exactly why it’s so hectic.”
“You really should relax more dear, you’ll wear yourself out and then where will they all be?”
“Easier said than done.”
“How did the cardi turn out?”
“What cardi?”
“The one you were knitting when you were on holiday in England?”
“Oh, that one. I’ve not finished it yet.”
“Really? But you only had to sew the pieces together surely?”
“Indeed.”
“So?”
“Just not had a moment and any way a sewing needle is considered a lethal weapon.”
“Sorry?”
“Nothing, it’s just that small children and needles lying around the place……not good.”
“Oh I wish you wouldn’t use those cryptic American terms.”
“Cryptic. Hardly.”
“Why can’t you speak in complete sentences?”
“No chance. Anyway, where were we?”

The boys coo terms of endearment in the background:- ‘adorable, gorgeous, so cute.’

“Did you buy a puppy afterall then?”
“Adopt.”
“Adopt? Adopt what?”
“A puppy. Out here we don’t buy puppies we adopt them.”
“Oh. So did you?”
“Did we what?”
“Buy …..er……adopt a puppy?”
“Nope.”
“But I can hear the children…...”
“Oh, right. No, no puppy, it’s a rolly polly.”
“Oh. A real one?”
“Well it’s alive at the moment but I wouldn’t vouch for it’s chances in the longevity department.”
“Why is he shouting endless?”
“It’s his name.”
“Whose name?”
“The rolly polly’s.”
“Oh! He’s named the rolly polly?”
“Pets for free mother!”
“Well boys will be boys.”
“Hmm.” My daughter approaches to shout at me, “Mom it’s not fair his Endless escaped and now he wants to nick my Big Anthony.”
“I’ll be with you in a moment dear, I’m on the phone to Granny” I snap. I return my attention to my mother.
“Who is Anthony?”
“An ant.”
“I should have known. Is he really big?”
“He’s bigger than Little Anthony. Anyway, I’ll have to dash before too much unsupervised wildlife enters the house. Love you!”
“Speak to you again soon dear.” I replace the receiver and hunt down my children and their new pets.
“Mom?”
“Yes dear?”
“Are they?”
“Are who?”
“Er……are they "worms?”
“Are who worms?”
“Are worms be turn to "cocoons?”
“No dear. Butterflies and moths have cocoons.” I think about worms casts, not quite the same thing at all. I don’t wish to muddy the waters still further.

Much, much later, at the end of another sun filled day, I tuck them all into bed in the moonlight.

I stand on the hard wood floor wondering what to "tackle" first as their Dad walks in after another long day of toil. I decide to do nothing and plop onto the sofa next to him and a rolled up unfinished cardi.

We chat, or rather I chat and he stares at the blank television screen. I pick up the knitting and a well embedded needle, as his mother, Nonna, steps into the family room, “oh that’s nice. I’m glad to see you enjoying yourselves together. So……why is it then?”
“Why is what…..er……I mean……pardon?”
“Your thing?”
“Which thing, the knitting?”
“No, the thing in the kitchen?”
“Which thing in the kitchen?”
“The thing next to the cooker, the little computer, your computer?”
“What about it?”
“You’re not doing it today?”
“Um…..not doing what on the computer?”
“Your……what’s it called….. your EEE mail.”
“Oh no reason, just been a bit busy I suppose.”
“Why you are have so many?”
“So many what?”
“EEE mails?"
"Ummmmm?"
"Could I just have a cup of coffee please?”
I leave the beloved and yearned for sofa. Oh to be a couch chip! I move towards the kitchen, but I put my lethal weapon down first. As I wait for the coffee to brew I notice the computer screen, full to busting with new e-mails. I step over to check. As I peer so does Nonna, “ooo who are all these people?”
“Um……international businesses that appear to have my date of birth on file.”
“Oh look! I didn’t know it was your birthday! Appy birthday Maddy. How old you are now then?”

She hugs me in the kitchen.

If I can't remember my own birthday how on earth will I ever remember 48?

Just kiddin!

I take back every rotten word I've ever said about Facebook.

[Although I still disappear off into middle earth every time I arrive!]

I remembered just in the nick of time, thanks to "Yolanda!"

Who needs a brain when you can pinch someone else's.

Thank you "facebook."

p.s. note to techy persons - I would dearly love to fix my "sidebar" but I lack the expertise. I was sorely tempted to steal "Kathleen's" autism bloggers sidebar, but cut and paste was a little sticky. If anyone could provide step by step instructions........piccies would be nice, what a gif that would be.




For instance this "list."
but much, much bigger that his! Size doesn't matter "Gavin" as long as I a remain a little "wiener."

Addendum - if someone doesn't help me with my sidebar I shall just have to have a tantrum, which I will not longer refer to as a "meltdown" but hence forward refer to as an "MB," a "mixed blessing." The advantage is that we have the chance to "understand," the disadvantage is that sometimes we "don't," understand that is to say. So we'll just have emmby's round here. Until "someone" nips along to straighten me out.

Gotta luv the Oxford English dontcha!

Brilliante Premo Weblog Awards and Public Service Announcement

"Karen" over at "Art in the Garage" has given me this award. Horray!

Here are a few blogs that I read regularly.

Dear Ms. Mad,
Please define your terms. What do you mean by ‘regularly’?
Yours irreverently,
The Word Police [USA branch affiliated but not necessarily condoning "Alaska"]

Well it’s funny you should ask that actually. I think that in this context it means often or frequently. However, I should point out that since we are currently enjoying the Summer holiday, we’re really down to ‘random scrabbling in any available free nano seconds.’


I usually start off at the "HUB" where I read but don’t necessarily comment, as they have huge brains over there and I see no need to display my stupidity publicly any more than is strictly necessary.

I can’t read anything until I’ve brilloed the bifocals. I can’t comment anywhere until my brain kicks in, my fingertips connect to my brain and my spell checker engages, otherwise I’m in danger of leaving something that looks like a txt msg, very messy.



Then I have two new favourites. I like to hang on around "Special Needs Mums." I also hang up at "Green Mums," especially if I'm feeling a little blue. Why? I have no idea why, unless it’s just because they are easy to find now that my google reader has gone batty, a real strangle hold.

I do try and keep up to date with all the autism family blogs but they deliberately post randomly just to keep me guessing.



Everything else thereafter is a bit of a poop shute. [note casual use of American colloquialism.]

For future reference in case you wonder why foreigners blink or baulk when you say ‘regularly’ out loud and attach that word to any number of sentences for no particular reason that the rest of us can fathom……………

two thirds of the world’s population use the word ‘regularly’ or ‘regularity’ with reference to ‘plumbing’ only, ‘personal plumbing.’



Here are the “rules” of accepting the award. (Please note: you can copy and paste these rules from my blog to yours. )

1) Put the logo on your blog.
2) Add a link to the person who awarded you.
3) Nominate at least 7 other blogs.
4) Add links to those blogs on yours.
5) Leave a message for your nominees on their blogs.


And the award(s) go to...
"Jocelyn" at "O Mighty Crisis."
"Furiousball" over at "My Diatribe."
"Franky" at "Frankily Yours."
"Lime" at "House of Lime."
"Mrs.G" at "Derfwad Manor."
"Lou" over at "Louceel."
"David" over at "David McMahon."

"Linda" over at "Are we there Yet?"

Cheers dears

Perfect Post

Today I would like to nominate "Lonestar" for the perfect post award hosted by Lindsay at "Suburban Turmoil" and Kimberley at "Petroville."

Her post on her blog "3 Running in Circles," and "Everyday Adventures" is called "Can you name all the 43 Presidents?"

For me this is a perfect post [and also a video!] because it illustrates the amazing potential of children, any and all of them. I doubt very much, even if I happened to be a very good American, that could also achieve this feat.

Anyone interested in hearing me recite the Kings and Queens of England?

Pop along and test your skills, I won't tell on you if you miss a few, or more.

Cheers dears

Thoughty Thirteen

Thirteen Things about free advice Here are a few words of wisdom that you may or may not wish to share with a child of your choice that I have received over the decades. 1. You my child, shall have a miserable and unfortunate life. 2. You really should try and smile more. 3. What's the rush? Is there a fire? 4. Stop being such a misery guts and go out and do something nice for someone else. 5. If you can't say anything nice don't say anything at all. 6. Never trust a mumbler. 7. People will never remember you, but they will always remember your manners. 8. What is the delay? Do I need to put a bomb under you? 9. Just do you best, that's good enough. 10. But you can't go out without a clean hanky! 11. Blow your nose! Oh, it's a freckle. 12. If I've told you once I've told you a thousand times, you'll never get rid of them with a Brillo pad. 13. You're a long time dead. A long, long time ago, I would sit in the OBGYN's office, waiting. On the wall was a framed "poem" which read:- A Child Lives What He Learns If a child lives with criticism, he learns to condemn. If a child lives with ridicule, he learns to be shy. If a child lives with hostility, he learns to fight. If a child lives with shame, he learns to feel guilty. If a child lives with tolerance, he learns to be patient. If a child lives with encouragement, he learns confidence. If a child lives with praise, he learns appreciation. If a child lives with fairness, he learns justice. If a child lives with security, he learns to have faith. If a child lives with approval, he learns to like himself. If a child lives with acceptance and friendship, he learns to find love in the world. ~Original Author Unknown I thought it was a bit mushy at the time, but now I'm not so sure, maybe I like Anon afterall. As for number one, in case you wonder if it's true or who might have said such a thing or is this pay back time, I should explain? Someone did say this to me when I was very little, little enough to have to look up 'unfortunate' in the dictionary. Why do I mention it now? Because we all say and do things in the heat of the moment that we later regret. They're impossible to take back. We worry about the damage we've caused and perseverate about it, often years after the event. What we don't know, is that sometimes our words can spark quite a different reaction that we anticipated. For me at least, those words ensured that the opposite would be true, but I'm just obstinate all round, cussed rather than cursed. Perhaps you have a little funny gem of your own to share? Ooo somebody "loves me!" "Yah/Boo" For more useful advice you could nip along and visit "Miss Nelson" at "Meaningful Outcomes" especially this post here called "Raising a Sensory Smart Child." She certainly makes more sense than I do and she's a far better speller too. Cheers dears

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