not like you.

 I have often wondered how to explain Max's behaviour to Cameron.  While she is "only" 2, she has the vocabulary of a 5 year old and a sense of compassion that is astounding.  Cameron loves her brother up and down and then some.  To her, he is only Max - her big brother, her sidekick.

Yesterday morning they were playing together - typical little kid stuff.  Max was thumping her with a couch pillow and Cameron was responding by giving him a light tap on the head.  They were giggling up a storm, so I didn't think much of it.  Cameron may be half his size, but she can definitely hold her own with him.  Suddenly the giggles turned to cries and Cameron appeared in the kitchen, tears rolling down her face, and said "Max hurt me".  I could hear Max laughing from the next room, and Cameron yelled "NO MAX! IT'S NOT FUNNY!".  She reached up for me so I scooped her up, gave her a cuddle and then set her down on the kitchen counter while I made breakfast.

Cameron continued telling me how unhappy she was with her big brother.  I found myself explaining "Cameron, you know how when I am laughing you know I am happy, and when I look like this (I made my face look sad), I am very, very sad?"  She nodded.  "Well, for Max, he doesn't always understand the difference.  If you are laughing and then you are crying, he has a hard time knowing that you aren't playing anymore.  So, we have to try to be patient with him and help him with that." She looked at me, very seriously.  "Okay mommy" she said.  "Maybe if you are playing and you get mad or sad, you could just tell him "Max, stop! I'm sad," or "I'm mad" or "that hurt me".  That way he will can start learning what to do when he sees you aren't happy.

And that's how I started the process of explaining to Cameron that her big brother has Autism.  I never imagined I would start this early.  This will be an ongoing process.  I remember reading about my friend, Julie Cole's first experience talking about her son having Autism with her oldest daughter. I like her approach and appreciate her guidance on the matter. I want Cameron to know it is not okay for anyone, Max included, to be mean to her.  I want her to know that it is not okay for him to hit her.  I also need her to understand that by not responding to Max's behaviour directly, we aren't endorsing it.  I don't want her to think there are two sets of rules in our house - the ones for Max, and the ones for everybody else.   I wonder how other parents handle this situation?  It's a tough one.

I need more coffee.

is perception reality?

“Perception is reality” is a phrase I do not like. You see, whenever someone utters this completely clichéd and overused phrase, I think back to one of the biggest assholes I ever worked for (it was his go-to mantra). I acknowledge that I am a total hypocrite as I have a tonne of overused phrases – pull yourself up by your bootstraps, if it doesn’t kill you it will make you stronger, and if I don’t laugh I’m going to cry to name a few. “Perception is reality” is one that makes me want to kick the person who has just said this.

Because it is not.

Perception is not reality. Perception is just that – what you think or perceive to be happening. Guess what? You could be wrong. Really. Just because you think it is so, doesn’t not make it so. Sometimes you need a reality check. Can I get a witness? Sheesh.

The only times this phrase holds water is if you are completely out to lunch, unable to comprehend this and there is nobody around with enough sense or compassion to help you pull your head out of your own derriere. I often think that doomsayers fall into the “perception is reality” pit. It helps them feel in control of their universe – as if by assuming the worst, you have made it so. No surprises – everything sucks, no bones about it, yay I win!! Should the situation not turn into the sh!t show you declared it would, you say “oh yeah, well, I’m prepared for the other shoe to drop”. What does that even mean?

I got to thinking that my own personal situation could be looked at in a few different ways. I have a son with Autism. There is no clear answer as to how independent a life he will be able to lead. I could look at that and think “oh my god, I am trapped. I am going to have to care for this child for the rest of my life.” I would be lying if I sometimes don’t get overwhelmed by this thought. When I start down that path, I pull myself back into the here and now. Nobody knows what our future holds. Max may be able to live an independent life. Perhaps if he needs support he would prefer to live in an assisted living situation. Or maybe he will live with me for the rest of my life. The situation will unfold as it will, one day at a time, and I will deal with it as it comes. So far I have been able to handle everything that life has thrown at me (not always gracefully mind you, but most days I give it my best).

How you choose to perceive something can be positive or negative. Whatever you decide, that does not change reality. All that changes is how you feel about it.

an angel among us.

This photo series is dedicated to Elizabeth Edwards.

July 3, 1949 – December 7, 2010

reverb 10, days 7, 8 & 9.

baby it's cold outside

day 7: community

(where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? what community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011?)

This year, the community that has embraced me and I have embraced back, wholeheartedly, is all of the inspiring women in my life.  They have been my support network when I have been down.  They have reminded me that I am worthy.  They have inspired me to keep on keepin' on.  They have encouraged me to explore new things and rediscover past loves.  I am blessed to be surrounded by such a tremendous group of ladies, in real life and online.  This coming year I would like to continue connecting with them and be introduced to even more women who are following their dreams and living authentically.  The beauty of this community is that it has an enormous population!

day 8: beautifully different

(think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful.)

People often tell me that they think I'm very funny.  I find this interesting, as I am never trying to entertain or amuse, I am merely sharing my observation on what this crazy world is throwing my way on any given day.  What I believe to be unique about myself is my candor, or over sharing, depending on how you see it.  As I get older, I am more comfortable being open about my strengths, weaknesses and screw ups.  I figure if telling my story helps me work through the stuff bouncing around in my brain while also letting someone else know they aren't the only person who is experiencing something, then that is a good thing.  Whether or not that makes me beautiful, I don't know. 

day 9: party

(what social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010? Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans.)
This one is easy.  Cathy and Gord's wedding.  We got to spend a weekend away at a lodge (first time we did that since we had kids) and our whole group of university friends were there as well (sans kids).  Nobody had to drive anywhere so we were all able to fully enjoy the festivities (and by that I mean booze it up).  We were all dressed 2 the 9's, and there was dancing.  Was there ever.  I believe the plan is to try to do this again next year (without the wedding part).  Here's hoping it happens!

how to make the perfect christmas stocking (for me).

One of my favourite parts of Christmas is making Christmas stockings for my family. And by making, I mean filling. Note: I also physically made all of their stockings (name embroidered on them and the whole nine), but that’s another post entirely. I have 5 stockings to fill – Scott, Scott’s folks, and Max and Cam. Sometimes I even do my mom’s on behalf of my dad and ship the contents across Canada for him. I start picking items up for each stocking as early as September. Each stocking is individualized to that person’s likes (and allergies). I do consider it an art form, yes.

Not everyone enjoys preparing Christmas stockings as much as I do. This is understandable as I seem to have a more than a normal allotment of holiday cheer.  I was imagining what I would put into my stocking if I were responsible for it (which really wouldn’t be much fun, but man it would be an aces-ten stocking!). Hey, if Oprah can do a favourite things list, I figure I’m entitled to as well (and mine, while not cheap, does not inspire throngs of blood thirsty women to scream like hyenas and grasp their vaginas in greedy excitement). 

Top ten things to put in a (my) Christmas Stocking:

Rescue Remedy – since I have given up my morning shot of grand marnier in my Christmas coffee, I will likely need this
Tazo Calm Tea – see above
Tea Ball
Lexar 4G memory card
The Confident Woman Devotional: 365 Inspirationals
Body Shop Shea Body Butter
Burts Bees lip balm
Tuscan Farm Gardens Lavender Milk Bath
Frou Frou cd
Winter Issue of Quilts & More magazine

I know I have fairly high expectations for my stocking, and it would be much easier if I liked getting a bunch of chocolate and candy, but hey, "aim high" I say.  What do you like to get in your Christmas stocking?

helping your child with autism fit in.

watching an episode of Elmo from the kitchen

This morning as I dropped Max off at Junior Kindergarten (late as usual), I overhead his teacher explaining to the class that if they wanted, they could send candy cane-grams to their friends. My ears perked up so that I too could get the details of how this exchange would work. I looked at Max, sitting with his EA, taking his coat and boots off and I knew he totally wouldn't fully understand the concept of sending out candy canes to his classmates. What he would understand was everyone else receiving them. I want so badly for him to fit in and have friends (in whatever way he is capable). I asked his EA if I could give her money to fill out candy cane-grams for his classmates and teachers. She agreed, so I ran out to the car and returned with enough cash to bankroll this endeavor.

Driving to work I wondered to myself if other parents of kids with Autism do the same type of things?  It is really important to me that Max be given a fair shot and for kids to like him.  I hate the idea of him being left out of anything merely because he didn't understand or nobody told me how to have him included.  I'm sure I would have missed out on this had we not been late and it makes me wonder how many other things Max doesn't get to take part in just because people figure he won't understand. 

I believe that in his own way, he totally gets it and I never want him to feel left out.  I hope someone sends him a candy cane-gram.

what are you looking at?

Over the past month, Max has developed a new auditory stim where he yells “MAX IN” over and over. He typically does this when he is excited. “Stimming” is a repetitive body movement that self-stimulates one or more senses in a regulated manner. For now all we can do is ignore it or try to redirect him into another activity. Eventually he’ll stop this particular stim and find something else to help him self-regulate. We just have to be patient and trust our experience with Max that “this too shall pass”.

On Sunday, I took Max out to do some shopping with me at Ikea. We go there at least once a month. For whatever reason, Max likes Ikea (and I like that he is patient and doesn’t seem to mind me taking my sweet time). We usually explore the kitchen, bedding, lights and frame sections, me having him label the colours of the items I am looking at, feel the textures of the different rugs, or count the number of boxes in our cart. We also sing songs – it is really a quite pleasant experience.

Max was very excited about being at Ikea, he was yelling "MAX IN" quite loudly and many customers were looking at us curiously. If this had been a year ago, I probably would have felt the need to stop and explain “hey, my son has Autism, so that’s why he’s doing that”. But this time, I didn’t have it in me to dole out the Autism shpeel. I merely met their eyes, smiled, gave Max a kiss on the top of his head and continued browsing. Perhaps I should have taken the time to provide some education to these strangers. I used to care what other people thought of Max’s odd behaviours. As I start to accept them, and embrace Max for who he is, I feel less and less like catering to other people’s judgemental gazes. After all, Max may be yelling out, but usually it’s the good old “normal” kids who are having tantrums and meltdowns.

Next time you see an adult with a child who clearly has special needs, do your best to smile sincerely at them and look them in the eyes. Actually SEE them instead of skimming over them and looking away uncomfortably. I know it’s hard to see sometimes. But looking away doesn’t actually make us go away. All it does is mean you missed out on the opportunity to receive an incredible smile.

a review of the movie “adam”.

Scott and I watched the Fox Searchlight film “Adam” this weekend. We debated renting it for months. Do we really need to see a movie about Autism? We live it every day. Wouldn’t seeing yet another story of Autism being played out for the sake of entertainment be a form of cruel and unusual punishment for parents who have a permanent home on this roller coaster. For whatever reason I rolled the dice and rented the movie. We let it sit on top of our dvd player for an entire week. I guess neither of us were sure we were up for it.

Practicality won out and on the day the movie was due back, we watched it. Scott teared up within minutes. I felt my heart strings get tugged in twenty different directions. You can’t help but compare the main character to “your person” with Autism. The main character, Adam, is said to have Aspergers (a high functioning form of Autism). As I watched his daily struggle, the things that he did to cope with this world, I felt mixed emotions. His reaction to his father dying was hard to watch. Observing him living alone, glued to his same routines day in and day out, was hard to watch. But there is hope infused throughout the movie as well. I don’t know if I buy the romantic relationship plot. The idea that someone would be so patient with and dedicated to someone they don’t have a genetic tie with is hard to buy. I hope and dream that Max will reach a point where he can know love and be able to experience a romantic relationship. I am not sure that is a realistic thing to expect though.

The parts that rang true were Adam’s love of being out in nature. Him taking everything 100% literally. Him not being able to handle change. His black and white perspective. His candor and honesty. Most of all, how hard he worked to understand NTs. That’s neurotypicals, for all you folks who don’t live in the spectrum world. The part where he bangs his head on the mirror out of frustration broke my heart as this is something I can see Max doing. And when he has the meltdown when he finds out his girlfriend has “lied” to him, and he scares her, that hit home a million times over. As Max grows bigger and stronger, I worry about how I will be able to manage him once he towers over me. Most of all, I worry about what would happen to Max if Scott and I were not here to care for him.

Would I recommend this movie? Sure. It’s pretty good. If you want to see an even better movie, a more realistic movie, I’d recommend the Temple Grandin movie starring Claire Danes. If you want to know what a person with Autism is really like, you should probably just go spend some time with a person on the spectrum.  Seriously, come on over.  But bring me a coffee, would you?

reverb 10, day 6.

day 6: make.
(what was the last thing you made? what materials did you use? is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it?)

The last thing I made was a quilt. Shocking, I know.  I used 100% cotton quilting fabric by Basic Grey (from their Origins collection).  Bright, bold colours that were out of my comfort zone.  I am happiest when I am creating something from nothing.  With quilting you start with a tiny scrap of fabric and from there you add onto it piece by piece, strip by strip.  When it is completed you have created a work of art.  Always an original, an expression of your love for whoever you give it to (if you are able to part with it).

My quilt on display at the Oakville Sewing Centre!

I always want to make more quilts and wish there were more hours in the day for me to squeeze in more time at my sewing machine.  I currently have several tree skirts on the go, and I definitely need to eek out some time this week to finish them off so I can pop them in the mail on time for Christmas.

sugar sugar. honey honey.

I have never completely bought into the whole sugar makes your kids bounce off the walls business.  Ahem.  My delusions have now been cleared up.  Sugar not only makes your kids bounce off the walls, it makes them fly. (The only reason I caught this picture is that my new Nikon d3100 kicks some serious ass.)

super girl!

On Saturday, our friends Jen and Brad's little baby Maya turned 5. Remember baby Maya? Seems like yesterday that she was spending her days with Max and me when Jen went back to work before baby #2 (aka Hannah).

Max & Maya sitting in a tree (or a wagon).

Well, baby Maya is all grown up now.  Where does the time go?

Speaking of baby #2 - there she is - baby Hannah.  Also no longer a baby.

I do believe this was Hannah's only smile all day.

Cam thought the leather couches were just as good as the monster indoor jungle gym at Lil' Monkeys.

Because having cake for lunch wasn't quite enough sugar, we followed up the birthday party with a Christmas cake decorating party thrown by MollyCake.  Here I am laughing at how completely ridiculous and out of my mind I was booking us into back to back parties, as Cam attempts to remain conscious as she slips into a sugar stupor.  Good news is we lived to tell about it.  No more sugar until Christmas!!

reverb 10, days 4 & 5.

day 4: wonder.
(how did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year?

In the quiet moments, when I get a chance to sit back and watch my children, I am inspired by how they are amazed by every new thing they stumble upon.  Things I have long taken for granted, that don't even register with me are head turners for them.  Dogs and flowers and pebbles and snails on the sidewalk after the rain - these all merit stopping in their little tracks and having an in depth discussion on whether or not that dog is a nice dog, why don't those flowers smell nice, this pebble is super shiny and uh oh I stepped on that snail, do you think it will be okay?  As much as I blame my kids on the grey hair I assume I have under all my blond highlights, they truly do keep me young at heart and remind me that there is wonder to be found everywhere.

day 5: let go.
(what (or whom) did you let go of this year? why?)

By no means do I have this perfected, but I am working on letting go of worrying about things that are out of my control. That, and trying to be perfect. For a control freak who likes things to be perfect, those are tall orders. But I'm working on them and I think I'm getting better at not trying to control the universe. Today anyway. We'll see how tomorrow goes.

women of wonder: my 6th mission - rediscover your balance.

My 6th mission for the rediscover your wonder project was to "rediscover your balance and take a dance class".

I love dance. I love watching dance. I have never, in my life, taken a dance class. The idea scared the you-know-what out of me. While I think as I grow older I am more comfortable in my own skin, I am still very self-conscious of how I appear to others. What if I am terrible? What if I don't pick up how to move? And what if I look ridiculous?

After some thought, I came to the conclusion that the type of dance I was really interested in learning was belly dance. Not because it was something that would teach me how to move provocatively, but because it was something that I felt would help me be more comfortable with my body (curves and all). Lucky for me, there is a world class belly dance studio in the town where I live, and I was able to get a private lesson with the fabulous Joharah, who just got back from teaching for two weeks in Egypt. She was kind enough to shoot some video of me demonstrating what she taught me in our first lesson:


I enjoyed this class so much that Joharah signed me up for her beginner series in the new year. I am still self-conscious (hello floor to ceiling mirrors everywhere you turn), but I think continuing on and learning more will help me feel more empowered about my feminine curves, and certainly more in touch with what my body is capable of. Of all the missions I have accomplished so far - rock climbing, life drawing, writing a children's book, taking a photography class, and going on a quilting trek, this is the one that really connected my mind with my body.  Also - holy hannah! - what a fantastic few months this has been!

Thank you WonderBra for presenting me with this opportunity!  How often do you get the chance or make the time to explore a bunch of things you have always had on your "to do list...one day"?  Any one of these missions would have been terrific.  To have completed so much in only a few months is a gift.  There is only one mission left, and I can honestly say that I am both looking forward to it, and dreading it, because once it is done, this project will be over.  That's not to say I won't keep working on rediscovering myself, but this project has forced me outside my comfort zone in a way that I don't think I would have on my own accord.  I hope it encourages you to go try something you have always wanted to try.  Seriously - take an evening and go learn how to deep dive or blow glass or learn how to throw darts...whatever your "one day" list is - make it happen.

While you're at it - check out WonderBra.ca to see what the other Women of Wonder are up to!

reverb 10, days 1, 2 and 3.

Once again, I'm a little late to the party (but we all know it's better to show up once everyone else has arrived so you can make a proper entrance).  The party? Reverb 10.  The deal? Basically, every day for the month of December I'll reflect on this past year and send out reverberations for the year ahead.  So, all sorts of navel gazing and being up my own ass.  But isn't that what blogging is mostly about anyway?  I certainly like to think so.  Though, you know, it's also a terrific way to advocate for stuff that is really important to you and show off how gorgeous your kids are. 


day 1: one word.
(encapsulate the year 2010 in one word.)

rediscover. 
I selected this word, not because of the rediscover your wonder project I've been participating in, but because this year has been one of self-rediscovery.  I started this year at one of the lowest points I have ever been.  Through a lot of hard work, time, healing, forgiveness, loving, medication and breathing deeply I feel like I am finally starting to squeeze my way out of this cocoon of protective armour.  I'm not there yet, but I can feel the freedom of shedding this sadness that has been weighing me down.  The me that loves to laugh and create and spread joy is starting to emerge and I am tempted to say "hey lady - I've MISSED you!!".

day 2: writing.
(what do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it?)

negative self-talk.
The moment something goes wrong or falls apart, I immediately blame myself and think "what could I have done differently to avoid this".  I know that's a bunch of hooey and I should cut that out.  It's an easy role to slip into.  Self-flagellation is a waste of time  and indulgent (if I am hard on myself then I beat you to it and I win!?!).  Wait...what?  At any rate, it certainly doesn't help me write.  If anything, it makes me want to get back in bed and pull the covers over my head.  Whether I can completely eliminate it or not is still to be determined (it hurts so good, you know).

day 3: moment.
(pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year.)

rock climbing.
It scared that sh!t out of me.  I didn't know if I had the physical strength to do it.  I worried that I would make a complete ass of myself.  And then I did it.  I got to the top of the wall and looked down and realized that I am way stronger than I give myself credit for.  I can do anything I set my mind to.  My friends are amazing and there for me (no matter how strange my request is, be it rock climbing or belly dancing).  Most of all, the things that seem enormous when you are face to face with them are really quite small when you step back for a moment.  Even better, from way up high the people who are most important stand out.

let yourself run on empty.

A few months ago, one of my favourite bloggers – schmutzie, decided that she was going to embrace sobriety and give up alcohol. I thought she was brave for sharing that so publicly. I thought she was brave for giving up her crutch.

I use food as a crutch. And booze. Buying stuff too.

Yet, I am not grotesquely overweight. I do not get drunk on a regular basis. I do not have a bunch of extra money burning a hole in my pocket. Each one of these behaviours in a silo is not so bad. Mix them together and they become the perfect numbing cocktail. When I asked my therapist what she thought about my crutches, she asked me (isn’t that what a good therapist always does?) what I was trying to avoid feeling? Filling myself with food, getting a little buzz from a glass of wine and the feeling of excitement in purchasing something are all just ways to keep myself from feeling something. I think I knew that, but didn’t want to address it. Pass the cookies and yeah, of course I’ll take a top up on my vino while I peruse the Christmas flyers.

What would be so bad about letting myself feel empty, or at the very least, not full? Was drinking a glass or two of wine every night really helping me relax? Did buying myself a new pair of pinking sheers (they were on sale) give me a rush that lasted longer than the time it takes to walk to my car? I justified all of it with the thinking that “my life is damn hard – I’m just doing what I need to do to get through the day”. But that inner monologue is shortsighted. That type of thinking is keeping me stuck in a cycle where I continue repeating the same behaviours and beating myself up for never achieving a different result.

I decided to give up my crutches and let myself limp. Last week I joined Weight Watchers. I stopped drinking. I put my credit card away. I’m still here to talk about it. And I’ve shed a few pounds.

It turns out that it isn’t so bad letting yourself feel sad about the things in your life that bum you out. Going to bed with a full tummy doesn’t help you sleep better. Buying a self-help book that I probably won’t read (but sure is pretty) doesn’t make me a better person. Crying is good for you. Feeling hungry reminds you that you are alive. Denying yourself a quick fix by spending money is empowering.

Being empty provides clarity.

the honey badger strikes again.

When Cameron is sweet, she is the absolute sweetest little girl you ever did meet. Really and truly – sugar and spice and everything nice, rot your teeth sweet. But, she can also throw a king-hell-tantrum that would put any tantrum you have ever witnessed to shame. I’m not kidding – even Max (who I thought had the market cornered on meltdowns) stands back and looks impressed. As her screaming escalates, that look becomes incredulous, followed by concerned, and finally he turns to me as if to say “can you make her stop mom, this shit is getting old!”.

This week, for whatever reason, 2 out of 3 mornings Cameron has decided to have a tantrum just as we are attempting to leave the house. Shoes and socks go flying, she attempts to pinch and scratch anyone within reach, and she basically behaves like a little beast. It’s a lot of fun (right up there with a kick in the face). Since she recently moved up to the preschool room at daycare, her new teachers are not yet accustomed to Cameron “the honey badger” Carefoot. On Monday, as I unceremoniously dumped a screaming Cameron on the carpet and placed her shoes and socks next to her, the head teacher asked me “why is she upset?” I looked at her, paused and replied “because she is 2, and 2 year olds get upset sometimes. Let her work it out – she’ll be fine in 5 minutes, I promise”.

Rinse, repeat – today, same scenario. Again, the head teacher asked me “why is she upset?” I told her “she didn’t want to come here today. And she’s 2.” That wasn’t a good enough answer, so I was asked again “no, but why is she upset? They know why they are upset”. Sweet jesus on a trampoline. “Oh yeah – she didn’t want us to brush her teeth. And she’s 2”. I turned and left. As I walked to my car I got super pissed. This teacher works with 2 YEAR OLDS. She of all people should know that sometimes they just behave like little jerks and throw tantrums as a way of expressing their general displeasure with our economy, healthcare system, and lack of adequate public transit. I decided to speak with the daycare director, who is really awesome, so I figured she would at least humour me.

I poked my head in her office and asked her if she had a minute, and then gave her a run down of the situation. My basic request was that the teacher not look at me like I am the worse parent in the world, and that it probably didn’t help Cam calm down if her pacifier was unceremoniously ripped out of her mouth the moment she entered the classroom (no soo-soo rule in preschool). Also, the same question, every day was bordering on ridiculous and also I have a kid with Autism sitting in my car, and I really don’t need this. My point – Cameron is a penniless dwarf with zero control of her life – of course she is going to throw the odd tantrum to attempt to exert some control over her wee universe. That is why. The director said she would address it, and that she would ensure I no longer get looked at like I’m a dirtbag mom and asked why my 2 year old is acting like a 2 year old. Though I fully expect that from now on I will be flipped the bird as I exit. I’m okay with that. As long as they don’t teach Cameron how to do it.

it's an honour just to be nominated.

Seriously. Very cool.  Thanks mom! I kid, I kid.  I'm not sure who nominated me, but a big thank you to whoever you are. 

Let me back up.

Last month I found out I had been nominated for the 2010 Canadian Weblog Award in the Health & Wellness category.  This category includes physical and mental health and disabilities.  I figure I have the topic fairly well covered seeing as I blog about both Autism and coping with depression.  Yesterday I got a tweet from schmutzie that I have been selected as a top 5 finalist in the category.  Suh-weet.

There are a bunch of terrific blogs nominated for all sorts of categories.  I encourage you to check the site out and take a look.  Not a bad way to start December at all!

the most wonderful* time of the year.

No matter how you slice it, Christmas will never live up to your expectations*.  It doesn't matter if you are rich or poor, surrounded by family or alone, December 25th leaves even the most jolly feeling melancholy.  Or maybe it's just me.

Dog knows I've got baggage when it comes to the holidays.  I want it to be perfect and for everyone to be happy.  That manifests itself into me spending all sorts of energy trying to figure out what I deem to be extremely thoughtful and lovely gifts that will tell the giftee (I don't think that is a word but it totally should be) that I friggin' LOVE them with my whole heart and then some.  I basically shoot myself in the foot before the gift is even unwrapped.  You see, the secret is that I absolutely expect you to react appropriately (according to my deluded vision of sugar plum fairies and whatnot) and show me that you think the present I have given you is the most awesome thing you have ever received and OMG HOW DID YOU KNOW I WANTED PURPLE HIGH TOP CONVERSE!?!.

Of course, this leads to a #giftee #fail because you open the box and think the beautiful afghan I have crocheted for you is a sweater and you are mildly horrified thinking you will likely have to don said sweater at least once and email me a picture of you in it pretending you think it is the cat's ass.  And yeah, that afghan would totally make an ugly sweater, but dude, it's a BEAUTIFUL afghan so wipe that deer in the awful-gift head lights look off your face and say "WOW!! This is totally beautiful Kat.  I really appreciate the hours of crocheting to Law & Order reruns you put into making my Christmas gift.  You are the best sister-in-law a guy could ask for".  Uhh, yeah, that happened.  We laugh about it now.  I'm over it, really.

The biggest piece of scuffed up, gotta-sit-on-it-to-close-it, hard core piece of Samsonite ass kicking baggage is my daddy issue.  He'll probably read this, and I'm okay with that because everything I write here I would say to his face.  I'm not kidding about that either - I've cried my heart out (drenching a perfectly good plate of sweet potato fries) in a restaurant in front of this guy.  He knows I have no shame.    As December rolls on through, I get edgier and edgier as I wait for him to call.  Will he want to see us?  Or maybe this year he'll just call on Christmas day and leave a message.  Ideally, I'd like to see him, for him to spend some time getting to know his incredible grandchildren. But it's totally a weird vibe because he lives 30 minutes away and visits maybe twice a year.  Do I need to dredge up all that emotional guck for the sake of tradition?  (The "tradition" being me feeling lousy about him calling or not calling.)

This year I decided to supersede the issue by proactively emailing him in November and asking if he wanted to come out for a visit during the holidays, and if so, when.  He responded that yes, he would like to come.  I emailed him back asking what size he is wearing these days and did he want some suggestions for what to get the kids?  That was last week.  I'm still waiting for a response.  So, I can't win - my daddy issues are biting me in the ass anyway (will he call? when is he going to call? why hasn't he called?).  Perhaps I'll bring this up with my therapist next time I see her.

Why the rambling post you ask?

Answer: 
I want you to validate me and tell me that I'm not the only one who has screwy feelings about the big C.
I'm not the only one who spikes my morning coffee before opening gifts.
I'm not the only one who feels that pang of sadness after all the dishes are washed after the big turkey meal that another Christmas has passed and bloody hell I despise taking the tree down.

Or maybe it's just me.

a thousand words.

(Max is wearing a pressure vest that provides him with
sensory input and helps him self-regulate.)

This picture blows my mind.  Mind = blown. Kaboom.  This is my Max, the kid with Autism.  The kid who spent the first month of Junior Kindergarten throwing tantrums and attempting (some times successfully) to bite his teachers.  He's happy, smiling, and clearly engaged.  This picture represents the progress Max has made in the last 2.5 years.  This picture says it all.

When I dropped Max off at jk on class picture day, I told his teacher not to worry if Max wasn't into sitting to have his photo taken.  It wasn't worth stressing him and everyone else out for the sake of a school picture that I probably wouldn't want to buy anyway.  I told her that the previous year, his daycare had been able to get him to sit, but he had tears streaming down his face in the proofs I got back.  The year before that he came home with carpet burns all over one side of his face because he got so upset he threw himself on the floor and had a meltdown.  I had zero expectations.

The next morning, his teacher happily reported that Max not only sat for the solo shot (and they had five to choose from) but he also sat for the group picture.  I picked my jaw up off the floor and told her I was amazed, but YAY!  Good stuff!  The proofs we got back were terrific, so I went ahead and ordered a bunch of photos for the grand parents.  It was only this week that I got to see the group photo, and my heart sank a bit.  Max is in the picture, but he is off to the side, looking at a toy, not engaged at all.  But, you know, he's in the picture.  That's progress.  Next year he'll move a little closer to the group and drop the toy.  And the year after that maybe he'll sit with the group.  As much as the group photo was a dose of reality, it is merely a stake in the ground for us to measure milestones against. 

This little boy is simply amazing.  He teaches me more each day and has shown me what pure joy looks like.  We're doing it Max! We're winning!

women of wonder: my 4th mission (part deux) - rediscover your happiness.

This is part 2 of my rediscover your happiness mission for the Rediscover Your Wonder project.

photographer Michael Willems discussing exposure compensation

I have been enjoying playing around with my new camera – a Nikon D3100 since I picked it up a few weeks ago. I really had no clue what the heck all the settings were for, or what all the buttons and switches did, but that didn’t stop me from taking a bunch of pictures. Turns out, this camera is so terrific, it takes really nice pictures, even if you are clueless. Very considerate of it, I agree. But the item on my bucket list that I am working towards accomplishing is to become a decent photographer, not just someone who uses a DSLR as if it is a top notch point-and-shoot. When I bought the camera, the folks at Henry’s recommended that I take an intro course so I would start to understand the power of my new camera (and also what all the buttons and switches do).

The 3 hour intro course ran this past Saturday. I was worried that 3 hours would be a bit much for me to sit through, but I needn’t have worried – it flew by. The instructor, Michael Willems was excellent – extremely knowledgeable, funny and did a great job of not making anyone feel like an idiot for not knowing how to hold their cameras (myself included). Also, I felt like I got my money’s worth within the first 3 minutes. I now know how to operate the basic menus on my camera, how to adjust settings (and when to and why I would want to). He also walked us through all of the cool features on our cameras and how to access them multiple ways. All very useful stuff.

What I really liked, was he also made recommendations on what additional accessories we should consider. Turns out that a backup battery and backup memory cards (max 4G) are the way to go. Michael’s point? If you run out of battery power you aren’t going to be taking ANY photos, so why does it matter that you have some expensive lens? Also, 4G cards are better than 16G cards because if a 4G card fails on you, you only lose up to 4G of photos. Bonus? The 4G card can be saved directly to a dvd for backup without requiring you to divide up your photos and save to multiple dvds. Great advice in my books.

Of course, there were recommendations for flashes, hoods, and lens types. If anyone wants to know what’s on my Christmas wish list, let me know! The most useful tool we got from the course was a copy of the presentation to refer back to. It’s in English, unlike the camera manual, which is in Engineer. Part 2 of the course is being offered in a few weeks and I’m hoping I can take it. If you have a camera you don’t know how to operate fully, or are getting one for Christmas, I highly recommend signing up for a course at Henry’s. Seriously. Your camera will thank you.

Edited to add: Michael was kind enough to email me some pictures he took of me when he was demonstrating how to use (and not use a flash):

This is what happens when you shoot with the flash straight on - I look like Baroness Von Shiny Face - thumbs down!

Much better! Flash was turned around and pointed up above the photographer's head - great for lighting ladies!

The best! flash positioned at the side of the camera, providing a much nicer mood.

Check out WonderBra.ca to see what the other Women of Wonder are up to!

best toy in the world.

There are moments when I feel in my heart of hearts, that everything is going to be alright, Max is going to be just fine, and Cameron is the perfect little sister.  Count your blessings.

omg this is AWESOME!

pick me up mommy!

Cammie, can you believe we are sitting in a box?

I know right!?!

okay, I gotta get back in just one more time!

watching All Dogs Go to Heaven on dad's computer