Shoe Shopping with Princess

Birdie, in front of Ripley's in Baltimore

Last weekend, Hubby and I decided to divide and conquer the Crazies so that we could have some one-on-one bonding time with the girls.  Well, bonding time is what we sold the divide and conquer as, but really we were each avoiding activities we didn't really want to be a part of.

Hubby took Birdie to Baltimore to visit the Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum, so that she could refuel her "freaky tank".  That child loves weird and interesting facts, and just cannot get enough of the Ripley's Believe It or Not books.  So when she heard there was a museum filled with this crap, Birdie couldn't get there fast enough.  She made the trip her "30 Days of Awesome" prize (which she earned by having 30 days of good behavior at school and at home), and I have to admit that I was more than a little relieved that Hubby volunteered to take her.

Which left me with Princess, who was in dire need of new sneakers.

"Holy Crap"-eteria, An Aspie Poem

Those that know a school aged kid on the spectrum probably know how overstimulating the school cafeteria can be.  Spectrum-y kids tend to have heightened senses, especially hearing, smell and sight, which makes a busy place like the lunchroom even more annoying to them than the average joe.  I mean, really-- do you like to eat in there?!  The cafeteria is particularly stressful for my Princess, and often leads to her imminent defeat on days when she is already having trouble behaving at school.  I thought I'd give you a little insight about how it feels to be an Aspie in the cafeteria, based on my Princess's plethora of complaints about eating lunch in there.  :)

"Holy Crap"-eteria

I walk into the lunchroom

and what smacks me in the face?

A wall of noise, bright lights, loud boys--

You want me to do what in this place?!!!

The New Year

I know you guys may have been wondering whether or not I had died, seeing as how I can't seem to get my act together to put down a few sentences on my blog lately.  I have all sorts of reasons as to why my writing stream seems to have dried up to a trickle, but I'm not going to bore you with it, or try to justify anything.  Let's just suffice to say that I resolve to do better in the New Year, and I hope that my kids and their schedules will agree with that resolution.  ;)

The New Year's party settings and guests, Birdie (L), Hubby, and Princess (R)

Me in my styling 2013
party glasses decorated by Birdie

The Kitty Ball

On New Year's Day, just before noon, Princess surprised our family with a New Year's party.  The party was a spur of the moment event, but P had put some time (20 minutes, at least!) and effort into putting together her shindig.   She made refreshments "from scratch", which consisted of Toaster Strudels and Capri Sun juice pouches.  Her party also had "formal" table settings (which means fancy stacked dishes and cups, and folded napkins), name cards, and party favors, which P commissioned Birdie to make.  To make the party complete, Princess made a New Year's Resolution game called "Pass the Kitty Ball", where we passed around a stuffed kitty toy and confessed our resolutions to the family.  When Princess was holding the Kitty Ball, do you know what that child resolved to do in 2013?!  Very solemnly she vowed,
"I will try to improve my kindness to others."

*cue sound of screeching brakes here*  Whoa!  What kid makes that their New Year's resolution?!!!  We-ellllll... If you knew the whole story...

The Magic of the Season

It's been a rough couple of weeks here on the Crazy Train, which I realize is no way to begin a Christmas holiday post, but it's true.

The holiday hubbub makes it hard for my darlings to deal with regular, everyday stuff, as was evidenced in Princess's school behavior two weeks ago (which will get it's own post, I am sure).  It made for a terrible week full of disciplinary action plans, visits to the principal, and tears.  I was sure the week couldn't get any worse until the tragedy in Connecticut occurred.

The Sandy Hook tragedy has left people across the nation mourning the loss of 27 human lives, most of which were too young to even comprehend.  On top of that unfathomable loss, the media managed to use this awful event to vilify Asperger's syndrome as well.  That unfortunate side effect has left parents like me-- parents of children on the autism spectrum-- doubly reeling with sadness and outrage, as we are left to defend our children and loved ones from the ignorant hate-mongering that abounds on social media and the news right now.

Add to all this stress two children with the flu and one mommy with a very high fever, a massive sinus infection, and what sounds like an emphysemic cough, and you can see why this Christmas season has been a little lackluster for me.

A funny thing has happened, though...

The Newtown Tragedy and Asperger's Syndrome

The tragic shooting that occurred at Sandy Hook Elementary School last Friday is just unfathomable.  I get a lump in my throat and my eyes burn with tears just thinking about it.  How are those folks in Newtown, Connecticut even breathing today?

The Newtown Fire Dept flag at half mast, courtesy of BusinessInsider.com

How will I breathe when I go back to work?  This week, when I walk into the elementary school at which I work, will it look different to me?  Will I be able to look at the faces of the children I see and greet and hug every day, and be able to hold myself together?  Will I be able to reassure these children that they are safe-- and really mean it?  Will I break down when I'm unable to stop the thoughts that this shooting could have happened at my school?  To my kids?

I'm sure I'll do whatever needs to be done, just as my co-workers will.  But no matter what happens, being at work won't feel safe again for a long, long time.

So many things about this tragedy are beyond comprehension.  No one, except for the shooter, can ever really know what would lead a person down a path that would end in massacring children.  Doctors, neighbors, teachers, school counselors, and news anchors can spend countless hours speculating about the mental state of Adam Lanza, but only Adam could have told you why he did what he did.  I have listened to many of the details given about this young man whom, by all accounts, no one really knew, yet about whom everyone seems to have plenty to say.  Adam Lanza was obviously troubled-- any stranger could discern that from the events on Friday, December 14th-- but that is really all we will ever know for sure.

What troubles me about all the press this young man is receiving, however, is that many in the media are trying to link Adam's murderous rampage to his Asperger's syndrome diagnosis.  Please, please, PLEASE-- could the media just once do their research before treading into waters they don't understand...  While I, and parents like me, are out trying to spread autism awareness, the media continues to muddy the waters of understanding with ill-guided comments and suggestions about the relationship between autism and violence.

Paramore, Twilight, and Endearing Sarcasm

Birdie began reading Twilight this weekend.  *collective gasp*  Yeah, I know-- what was I thinking?!

*image courtesy of the coolest-vampire-art-gallery.com

Glad you asked.

What I was thinking was, my eight year-old daughter is going to get half-way through the second chapter of this Twilight book and realize it is a sappy, teenage romance novel.  (Which I totally dug, by the way.  Like, super nutso, I-have-to-get-my-hands-on-the-next-book-as-soon-as-I-finish-this-one dug it.  Not exactly a Twi-mom, but close.  Too close.)  Upon that realization, I was sure-- completely sure, as a matter of fact-- the book would be once again safely tucked away in the box from whence it came.

Weeellllll... yeah, no such luck, folks.  Birdie is completely hooked.  Hooked and racing around the elementary school, making recommendations to every grown-up and older student that she can find.  And as for her own classmates, instead of recommending it to them, she is telling them that "parental guidance is suggested for the content of this novel, which means you should ask your mom if you can read it first."  Go ahead and roll your eyes.  I did.  It seems I have created another raging Twi-hard.

Vote for My Buddy... PLEASE!!

Soooooo...

Hubby found this cute pet contest in which to enter our Buddy, the star of my Hairbrained Musings' pictures.  It's sponsored by 1-800-PetMeds and it's called PetMeds Next Pet TV Star Contest.  Seems kind of poetic, doesn't it?!  My Buddy (aka Beanz-- I don't think I've ever used his "given name" in my blog), the furry little medical disaster that keeps his veterinarian's BMW payment current, has entered a contest to win a spot on a PetMeds commercial.  That's right, Trainees!  You know, if Buddy could speak, he could probably give user reviews on half the medications distributed by PetMeds!  How awesome would it be if our cute little beast could pay for some of his own damn vet bills by winning this contest?!  He could have all the allergic reactions, and eat all the rare coins and corn cobs he wants!

The picture we submitted that will hopefully bring home the gold medal

So, Trainees, I am asking you-- my dear sweet friends-- to help my Buddy/Beanz win the PetMeds contest.  Wouldn't you just love to see his adorably ugly mug on TV?!  You could tell all your friends how you knew Buddy before he became famous, when he was still just a humble housepet.  I just know you'll help a doggy out by voting...


So here's all you do:

1.  Click on this link:  PetMeds Next Pet TV Star Contest

2.  Vote for Beanz by clicking the "VOTE" button, 'cuz he's totally the cutest pup in the contest.

2.  Share the link with all your friends that appreciate a star-quality pooch when they see one, and have them vote for Beanz, too!


Those three simple steps may be all it takes to change my "Buddy" Beanz from an allergy-ridden, money pit of a pooch, into a TV superstar that can earn his keep around this joint!  You, my friends, could be this dog's ticket from Crazy Train to Gravy Train.  Please, PLEASE-- help my adorable little beast out, and VOTE!!!!  Voting begins tonight (November 29th) at midnight ends on December 14th at 11:59pm.

Oh, and by the way, you can vote once every day of the contest!!  (That's 15 votes for each of ya, if you're doing the math!)

Doggy kisses all around if we score a win!  ;)

Field Trips Suck... the Life Out of Me

Princess's stress face :(

Princess:  Mom!  Mom?  MAAAAHHHHHHMMMMMMMM!!!!  WHY AREN'T YOU ANSWERING ME, MOM?!  

Me:  Shhh!  *whispering fiercely*  What is the matter, Princess?!  Why are you yelling?!

P:  *sounds of something plastic having the life beat out of it*  My alarm clock. ISN'T! WORRR-KINNNNG!!!  IT STILL HASN'T RUNG! *hysterical sobbing*

Me:  Honey, it's only 5:00 a.m.  It's not supposed to ring for another hour.  Nothing is broken.

P:  Oh...  Are you sure?!  If we are late to school, they will leave me behind AND I WON'T GET TO GO ON THE FIELD TRIP!! *sobbing again*


Of course.  The "Field Trip Freak Out" is happening.  Again.  I was hoping we were going to avoid the field trip anxiety this year.


Me:  Shhhh!  You will get there on time-- I promise.  Please try to go back to sleep.


Field trips are a living nightmare for lots of spectrum-y kids, my Princess included.  Where most kids are bursting at the seams with excitement about what adventures a field trip day may have in store, the spectrum-y kid is tallying up all the ways that the day could go horribly wrong.  A field trip is a day chock-full of the unknown, and for kids with autism, that's worse than punishment.  On field trip day, the regular school activities, the surroundings, the seating arrangement, the bus ride, the lunch schedule, the grown-up in charge, the bag in which lunch is carried-- all these things are mostly likely different.  Ummmm-- can you say "not good"?!    For a kid that poops at the same time and place every day, a kid who can't find her milk glass at the dinner table if you set it in a different spot by her plate, a kid who gets angry if she outgrows clothes without being warned that the outgrowing might happen soon-- for that kid, this many changes in one day is enough to induce a full-blown panic attack!

Thankfulness Is A Matter of Perspective

*borrowed imaged*

I am not going to bore you to death with a long, drawn out post about how I'm thankful for family and friends, not being cold or hungry, and not being broke.  If you have been anywhere near a blog or Facebook in the last month, you have seen these trite sentiments more times than you can count.  It's not that I'm knocking trite sentiments (much), but you, my friends, know that I am thankful for these things!  Anyone worth their salt would be!

What I am going to share with you are the things that I am surprised I am thankful for.  There are a few things that I would never ever have suspected in a million years that I could be grateful for, but upon reflection I have realized these things have made my life better in some meaningful or impactful way.  You probably have a few of these surprising sources of gratitude in your life, too-- you just need to turn things on their ear for a moment and look at them from a different angle.

How Should a Teacher Break the News that Your Kid is Weird?

Lunch in the Teachers' Lounge is never dull.  Every day at noon, several of my co-workers and I break bread together and talk about whatever is on our minds.  We talk about our kids, our families, our extracurricular activities, and any of the hundreds of other things friends might discuss over lunch.  As you might have guessed, however, our number one topic of choice is our students.  And why wouldn't it be, right?!  We are all (I assume) working at the elementary school because we love kids, and we want to help our students succeed.  It is obvious that the teachers I work with are a very compassionate bunch, and I am often floored by the level of concern and involvement they have with their students.  Frequently, we will spend lunch talking about how to reach a particular student's needs, or discuss strategies to use in class.  Recently, discussions have veered more toward Parent/Teacher conferences, since we have just completed the first grading period.  Consequently, I have never seen my co-workers look more stressed!

I never realized-- or took the time to think about-- the level of anxiety that a teacher experiences during a Parent/Teacher conference!  One would just assume, because the teacher is the one at the meeting with the grades and the behavior reports and the information, that the teacher would feel confident going into a conference.  Wrong!  Teachers get nervous, too, y'all.  It's not usually the discussion of grades that make teachers shake in their conference shoes, but rather the topic of behavior.  And not so much bad behavior as "weird" behavior-- as in Crazy Train-style weird behavior-- that makes teachers squeamish at conference time.  I have discovered during my daily lunches in the Teachers' Lounge this fall that teachers are often afraid of having the Your-Kid-Is-Acting-Weird Conversation!  The teachers worry about what to say, how to say it, and when to bring "it" up.  They worry that they will say too much or too little.  They worry that the parents will get mad, or get offended, or get up and leave!  Who knew?!

*image courtesy of NYC Educator

More Hairbrained Musings-- the Halloween Edition (16)

More moments and musings from a never-idle mind...

*Halloween these days has more T&A than Cinemax.  I think there is a real potential for profits if Party City and Fredrick's of Hollywood would just merge into the same company-- they already sell many of the same products two month of every year.  Hookers and college coeds around the world would rejoice!

Flu Shots

I've had it up to HERE with flu shots.  And by here, I mean there, because I passed my limit with shots about three years ago and kept going anyway.

image courtesy of Free Stock Photos.biz

I'm not talking about the flu shots for myself, but the ones for my kids.  I'll get my flu shot every time it is available to me, because the pros of the shot outweigh the cons.  For me.  When it comes to Princess and Birdie, however, I cannot envision a single scenario or incentive that would make the headache of getting them vaccinated worth it.  No lotto winnings, no promise of luxuries or prizes-- no one could possibly incentivize that experience enough to make me go to a flu clinic with my daughters ever again.  Ever.  I have given it my best efforts in previous years.  I mean, come on-- protecting your child from a preventable illness, in my opinion, is what any good mother would do!  W-heh-helllll.... I am done with being a good mother by this definition.  It. Ain't. Worth it-- their immunity to the flu, I mean.  I'd rather spend 10 days of my life nursing a flu-ridden child back to health, than spend the 40 minutes it typically takes to get through the flu shot clinic.  I am being completely serious.  Those that know me well know I do, on occasion, resort to the use of hyperbole when describing certain events, and my husband was sure this was one of those times.  This is not one of those times.  I really would rather deal with fever, sweats, chills, body aches, and vomit for over a week, than sit at the flu shot clinic with my children for less than an hour.  Hubby finally came along last year so that he could get the full experience, too-- and now he knows I was not joking.  When I mentioned it was flu shot season again in October, Hubby suggested that instead of getting the free shots that our healthcare provider doles out, I might ought to look into the nasal mist vaccine, which would cost us about $70 for the two girls.  Seventy dollars versus free, and we both felt like we would be getting a terrific deal if there was no drama at vaccination time.  It is THAT BAD!

Roxy the... What?!

Meet Birdie's friend Roxy.

See Roxy sit?  Sit, Roxy, sit.

I see you squinting at the screen, wondering if your vision is failing you in your old age.  You're wondering did I upload the wrong photograph...

Now you're feeling clever because you've concluded that Roxy must be an imaginary friend that is supposedly sitting in the chair...

And some of you are wondering, now that you think about it, what the hell a spaghetti squash is doing sitting in my living room chair.  If you are thinking that is the most jacked-up, redneck fall decor you have ever seen, then congratulate yourself for being wrong.  Again.  That spaghetti squash, in fact, is Roxy.

Deep breath, people.  I don't need anyone hyperventilating with laughter yet.  I haven't even gotten to the good part!

The Miraculously Fantastically Magical Sticker

Never-- and I mean NEVER-- underestimate the power of a sticker.

No, that's not a typo.  I meant to write "sticker".  And by sticker, I do not mean "a pointy-ended object with which to poke at things".  The sticker to which I refer could more aptly be described as "cute, colorful, sticky-paper praise".

In general education classrooms, stickers have been employed for many, many (we're talking since-the-dark-ages-when-I-was-in-Kindergarten many) years as one of the ways teachers indicate a job well done to their students.  I used to love getting a sticker on my paper when I was in school (even in high school), because I knew before I even saw my grade that I'd done well.

When you take those same little sticky-backed disks of paper and hand them to a special education teacher, and they are instantly imbued with magical qualities.  Scoff all you like, but it's true!  Stickers, quite often, are the currency of special education.  Stickers provide for students that need to practice better behaviors a couple of things.  One-- they provide students with a visual tally of the times they exhibited good behavior, which becomes a reminder that they ARE capable to doing what they need to do to be successful.  Two-- the stickers (when enough have been collected) can be traded in for any number of desirable things that reward hard work-- extra time at a favorite activity, a trip to a prize box, a special treat, quiet time, or whatever rings the bell of the kid needing motivation.  The stickers are currency, and when the price (or prize, as it may be) is right, kids will work hard to earn them.

Making Time to Volunteer at School

Now that school is back in session, I am sure many of you-- especially parents of elementary-aged students-- have been hounded harassed encouraged to volunteer in your child's classroom.  Many were asked to sign up as volunteers at the very beginning of the school year.  However, now that the first quarter grades are about to go out, and the first of the school seasonal parties are about to begin (as in the nebulous "Fall party", which usually mashes Halloween pumpkins and Thanksgiving turkeys into one non-denominational celebration), teachers may be requesting some help again to fill in the volunteer gaps.  Or, maybe now that school is underway, you have realized that you want to be a bigger part of your child's school experience.  Maybe because you want to keep tabs on get to know better his/her teacher and classmates.  Maybe you realized that volunteering is one of the best ways to keep up with how your child is progressing at school.  Or maybe your child has asked you help out.  Whatever your reason for wanting to volunteer, I know that this is sometimes easier said than done...

Volunteering can be hard to work into your schedule, particularly if you are a working parent.  But do not fear, there are still many ways that you can contribute to the success of your child's classroom, even if you cannot carve out time in your week to be at school.  My friend Carol, one of the administrators for the website National Nannies, has compiled an excellent list of 10 things that you can do to help out your child's teacher from home.  You should take a moment and check out her suggestions:

Link to Carol's article on NationalNannies.com:  http://www.nationalnannies.com/blog/10-ways-working-moms-can-volunteer-at-school/

Aren't these great ideas?!  You're child will be so excited that you have taken some time to devote to his or her class, and the teacher will be ever-so grateful as well.  Please don't feel like you've missed your opportunity to volunteer-- it's never too late to offer a helping hand!

Red Rock Overlook Hike in Pictures

I know I haven't written in nearly a week, and for that I am truly sorry.  I have tons and tons of ideas floating around in my head, many of which are in various stages of my writing process and sitting in Blogger waiting for me to get back at it.  I am also working on a guest post that will be showing up pretty soon...

But enough with the excuses!  I thought I would share with you, in pictures, why I have gotten little to no writing done today.  It was just too beautiful outside to be sitting inside with my laptop in front of me!  Hubby and I took the Crazies to Red Rock Overlook, a nearby park, for an afternoon hike and geocaching adventure.

Princess, styling & profiling in her very
"fashionable" hiking gear... she yelled "GEOCACHING"
just before I snapped this.  :)

And they're off!

The Little Things

At my house this isn't always the case!

It's the little things, really, that make motherhood so rewarding:


The extra long hugs, especially when you know your kids don't usually love them.

The charming I'm-so-proud-of-myself smiles of accomplishment.

The crayons found hidden in your underwear drawer by only God knows who, that make you laugh out loud at 6:00 a.m. when you find them.

The almost compliments received, like "you'd be pretty today, Mommy, if you weren't wearing make-up.  Or that shirt."

The hilarity of going out without the children, thinking you look great for a change, only to discover one of your charming offspring used your shoulder as a tissue when she hugged you good-bye, and so now you look like maybe YOU are the one that uncouthly blew your nose on your shirt.  

The countless pieces of artwork that threaten to swallow your fridge whole.

The shampoo bottles in the shower that have all been filled to the top with water.

Happy Campers, the Next Chapter

Greenbrier Lake

Last Friday after school, the Crazy Train rolled into Maryland's Greenbrier State Park for our second pop-up camper adventure.  We figured, what better way to spend a three-day weekend than in the woods?!  Although it was a somewhat whinier trip than our first, it seems that fun was had by all.  Even the cooler temperatures and drizzly Sunday couldn't spoil the fun for my ladies.

Awareness and What A Diagnosis Is NOT

Aahhh... the magical diagnosis.  In the world of special education, a child's diagnosis is the compass rose and key that educators use to draw the map of that particular student's learning plan.  The diagnosis, by definition, is an evaluation of an individual to determine what is contributing to their educational and behavioral difficulties.  The diagnosis, therefore, is a tool.  It is a tool parents and teachers use to raise awareness and understanding about a child's particular set of behaviors, and nothing more.  It is most decidedly NOT meant to be an excuse for academic and behavioral shortcomings. It is not permission to stop parenting.  It should, instead, be a parent's notification of hard work in the near future.

I'll just apologize in advance-- this may turn into a bit of a rant.

More Hairbrained Musings (15)

Another collection of moments and musings.  (Some of you may have noticed this is no longer a weekly post.  You may have also noticed my other posts are less frequent, too-- I didn't want my Musings to overtake my blog, so they will just begin to happen when they happen, but I doubt they will ever go completely away.  It's waaay too fun to vent!)

*To bathe or not to bathe should NEVER be the question.  When in doubt, err on the side of cleanliness.  Please.