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Mar 1, 2011

Stuck Between Hip and Hip-Fracture

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One of the joys of losing weight is going shopping for new clothing when everything starts getting baggy. (What? Were you unaware I was losing weight? You must not be reading my weight loss blog then!)

Such was my joy this weekend when I went out to Kohl’s for a little “me” time in the evening. I had gift cards from Christmas, I had a coupon, and I was ready to spruce up my wardrobe.

I walked in the door and was immediately distracted by the cute dresses on my right. The pull of ruffles and stripes and soft fabric drew me to the racks as I quickly found myself immersed in spring fashions. Another woman, younger than me, was also browsing in this section.

One top caught my eye, so I started digging through the rack, looking for my size. The other woman was practically right next to me looking at shrug sweaters. Not finding a large, I muttered out loud to myself (because I talk to myself all the time), “Darn, I wish they had this in my size. I doubt a medium would fit.”

The other woman – who really couldn’t have been more than 22 or 23 years old – looked me up and down for a split second, and then replied, “You’d probably find more for you over there,” and nodded across the aisle with a sigh and a withering look on her face.

(Were she 50 years old and southern, she’d probably have added a “well, bless your heart,” to the beginning of that statement. Instead, I got the teen “geez, mom, you’re so out of touch!” tone of voice.)

“Oh, thanks,” I replied, not realizing what she meant. A moment later, it came to me: I was in the Juniors’ section of Kohl’s. The area she was nodding to was the Womens’ part of the store. You know, the area for females who are of a certain age and should be dressing a certain way.

And for just a moment, I was truly embarrassed. I shuffled away from the soft ruffles and left the Juniors’ section to those without wrinkles, hoping no one would point or stare at the old lady thinking she was young again.

I mean, I’m four months away from 35 years old, where I’ll officially be in my “mid-thirties” and can no longer pull off the “early-thirties” label. I don’t plan on wearing an ultra-mini skirt anytime soon, but I didn’t realize that the entire Juniors’ section was off-limits for me.

But I like some of the clothing there. Sure, I won’t be wearing anything that bares my midriff anytime soon, and Juniors’ jeans are simply never going to fit my legs. The tops and dresses, though, are a mixed bag – some are really cute, and while most aren’t work appropriate, I could see wearing them on a casual Saturday afternoon, out with friends, or even to a blog conference. No inappropriate baring of skin, no squeezed into something like a sausage – just trendy ruffles and floral prints and clothing cut in a way that makes me feel happy. 

To be fair, I like some of the clothing in the Womens’ section, too. This is not a rant against matronly clothing for those of us who can’t like Justin Bieber without it feeling kinda creepy. I buy most of my clothing from that area of the store, to be honest. I just don’t see why I should feel guilty shopping in the Juniors’ section as well.

So tell me: is a thirty-something mom of two considered too old for clothing from a Juniors’ section, or does Miss Teen Fashion Police need to zip it and let women shop where they want?

Filed Under: daily life, me me me, pop culture, rant ·


Feb 14, 2011

Behaving Badly

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Over the weekend, I made my weekly pilgrimage to Target, shrine of everything-you-need and even more that you probably don’t need, but hey, it’s cute and in the dollar bin!

The first game at Target is always finding a parking spot. I cruised down one aisle, but all of the spots were taken, so I decided to take a right and try the next aisle over.

As I made the turn, a middle-aged couple were walking from the store out into that aisle. They were walking right down the middle of the aisle, to be specific. I wasn’t in a hurry, though, so I slowly inched forward behind them. The woman drifted over to the far left side, but the man remained in the middle of the aisle, clearly planning to keep his course.

He did start to drift to the right side, though, leaving the middle of the road open for me. I guessed that they must have different cars, since they were on different sides of the aisle and he had fallen behind her in pace, so I slowly drove between them (with plenty of room on each side) and then pulled into an open space on the left, pausing to make sure the woman wasn’t going to cross the open space. She instead went to the car just before the space.

As I put the car in park, out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of the man beside my window. Apparently they were taking the same car. He was opening up the passenger door of his car, and in that side-glance instant, I caught him peering into my window, his eyes attempting to bore holes into me with hatred.

I was immediately uncomfortable and turned my head to the passenger seat, taking extra time to gather up my purse and put away my keys. Did I really see that or was that side-glance misinterpreted? Confused, I turned back and prepared to get out of the car, knowing he was still likely right there.

As I opened the door, my eyes trying to remain anywhere but near a human being, I was aware that he was already in his car. But my eyes again drifted up and there staring right at me from the passenger seat in the next car over, was a man I’d never met before, with a look on his face like he was about to jump out of his car and beat me. In that quick glance, his eyes, his body language communicated that he hated me. I’ve never seen so much negative energy coming off of a person before, especially towards someone he didn’t even know.

I quickly closed my door and walked away, still unsure of exactly what happened and not wanting to wait around to give the guy a chance to speak. What could I have done to make this person so angry? I kept my car well behind them when they were walking to their car, never wanting to be pushy. And if he was upset that I was somehow pushy for trying to drive down that aisle, did that infraction truly deserve that severe of a response? Even if he was just having a bad day, why take it out on me?

I’d like to think this was an isolated incident, but I’ll admit I’m seeing it more and more every day.

Like the person yelling at a customer service representative because they didn’t ring up the right sale price at the register.

Like the guy weaving through traffic, nearly causing accidents because he’s more important than anyone else on the road and deserves to get there first.

Like a parent blowing up at a neighbor for having the nerve to ask her child to please not walk through her flower garden, screaming that no one tells her child what to do but her.

People – we’re losing our ability to interact with each other.When the world around you feels more like a reality TV show and less like actual reality, something is wrong.

Our society is teetering towards a loss of all civility. It’s like people are rebelling from the politically correct atmosphere of the last decade and swinging to the polar opposite. Maybe all of the power of anonymity on the internet is spilling over into our day-to-day behavior? (Note to offenders: when you act like an internet troll to the people in your community, we actually know who you are. And then don’t like you.) 

We’re becoming a Jerry Springer culture, zero-to-pissed-off-and-swinging in 2.3 seconds. If someone does something that inconveniences you, clearly they meant to do it and therefore deserve to be punished. Giving someone the benefit of the doubt is unheard of, and if done generally means that you’ll be the loser when the other person chooses to strike first in the war of angry words.

 I’m so sick of it.

Look, I’m socially awkward, but even I know the basics of how to behave in public. Be nice to people. Give them the benefit of the doubt. If you’re upset, bring it up to the person calmly and rationally and give the other person a chance to explain or make it right.

People who get angry all the time intimidate me – I never know when they’re going to blow up next. My coping mechanism is to conjure up the image of screeching chimpanzees: out-of-control and primitive, which is really how these people are behaving. And when you imagine them as chimps, they look ridiculous.
My challenge to all of you is to practice kindness this week. Do something nice at a moment when no one expects it. If you feel like you’re about to yell, pause and ask yourself if it’s really worth it to pummel the other person with all of that negativity. Slow down. Make others smile.
And for goodness sake, show some understanding and love to all of the random people you interact with in public each day. Don’t be the chimpanzee in the room.
Filed Under: daily life, love, rant · Tagged:


Dec 7, 2010

Roller Coaster of Autism

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Raising a daughter with autism is a lot like riding a roller coaster. One minute you’re climbing high, watching your child make huge gains and seeing nothing but the blue sky above you when it comes to success. Then the next minute you’re hurtling downwards, out of control as you watch the ground come at you quickly, closing your eyes to block out your fear of all that progress crashing down with you, but quietly wishing you’d hurry up and hit bottom already. Then suddenly you pull up again, grateful to be released from the free-fall, wondering if you can stomach the next curve.

The past few weeks have been rough for Cordy, and as a result rough for us as well. After coming off the high of finding out that our daughter is excelling in academics and hearing so much praise from her teachers, we’re seeing a totally different child at home.

It’s hard for me to put into words what’s different about her. She’s…moody. The slightest verbal correction sends her either into a fit about how she’ll never get to do [insert activity she was doing] ever again, or sometimes a panic attack that we’ll hit her or send her to jail for some minor offense. (For the record, we don’t hit her. Just wanted to make that clear up front.)

She’s always been someone who sees only black and white with most issues, but lately everything has been even blacker and whiter. There is only one way to do things, and you can’t tell her otherwise. Any change in direction and suddenly it’s like the world is splitting apart at the seams.

She’s stopped sleeping again. She goes to bed at her normal time, but when I leave for work I’ll often still hear her talking in her room. On nights when I’m home, I sometimes wake up at 2am or 3am and still hear her talking to herself in her room. And yet she still bounds out of her room at 6:15am. Occasionally she’ll crash hard in the middle of the day – about a month ago there was a tornado warning while she was at school, and apparently while they crouched in the school hallway, sirens blaring, she fell asleep. But there seems to be no pattern to her sleep cycles.

Cordy has also started destructive behaviors – she’s unraveling socks at an alarming rate now. She insists on wearing socks at all times, but she has been putting holes in at least a few every week, sometimes completely unraveling the sock down to the bottom of the cuff. She’s also scratching herself raw at times and picking at her lips, sometimes until they bleed.

What bothers me the most is that Cordy wants to be alone even more lately. She comes home from school and usually within the first 15 minutes, she’s either absorbed in an activity book, or she disappears to another room to “make up her stories.” She likes to create stories, but she insists on making them in private and then she doesn’t like to share them. If anyone should come into the room, she gets upset and demands they leave. Peeking in on her, I often find her pacing back and forth, flapping her hands and talking to herself, usually quoting lines from TV shows. This is often what she’s doing in the middle of the night, too.

Sometimes I get so frustrated that she won’t let me into her world. If I ask her how her day went at school, she responds, “Mom, I don’t want to talk. I just want to watch TV.” If I ask her how she’s feeling, she whines and tries to avoid me. When I ask her to tell me one of her stories, she tells me that she doesn’t like to tell them to anyone. I feel like I can’t get through to her, and I sometimes worry that feeling will create a divide between us. I know I shouldn’t take it personally, but when your 6 year old keeps telling you to leave her alone, and you go an entire night in different rooms, it starts to have an effect.

Many of these behaviors have been with her for some time, but over the past few weeks they’ve intensified to the point that sometimes she’s incredibly difficult to live with. I can’t pinpoint what’s causing these changes, either, which leaves me feeling helpless. It’s quite possible the overstimulation of the holidays is affecting her, but I don’t know how to tone it down any more to keep her happy. Something at school could be affecting her, too – she never seems as happy when she gets off the bus anymore.

I really had no point to this post. I just needed to get this off my chest and admit that while I love my daughter, I’m having a hard time dealing with her lately. She was so happy earlier this year and now I feel like she’s morphed into some sullen emo teenager who is angry that we never let her do what she wants and never leave her alone enough. I want my smiling little girl back (I have tears in my eyes as I write that because I know what a little ray of sunshine she has been) and I want her to be at least a little more interested in her family.

I understand social interaction is hard for Cordy – such is the nature of autism – but I refuse to let autism take her away from me. I’ve been crazy busy with work, but I’ll somehow find the time to do more for her if needed. But what is there to do? I have no idea what steps to take next.

Back to that roller coaster image, since I have no idea how to even end this stream of consciousness: my eyes are currently squeezed shut tight and I’m hoping this is just a small dip in the ride and soon we’ll be on that upward climb again. Because right now the ground is a little too close for my liking.

Filed Under: Autism, Cordy, daily life ·


Dec 1, 2010

Good Thing We Already Had The Backup

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Like many people, I love a good Black Friday sale. Last year, Aaron was the Black Friday king, making it to 5 stores (all with different opening times) and scoring everything on our list.

This year the deals weren’t as appealing to us, but there was one item we had our eyes on: a new TV. There was nothing wrong with our old TV – it was a 32″ CRT model (the ones with the big tubes in them that weren’t flat, for you young’ins out there) and worked perfectly well. Except that any movie in widescreen was exceptionally small on the screen, and even though we have a lovely Blu-Ray player, the TV didn’t display it in that crystal-clear precision it’s known for.

So Aaron and I agreed that a new TV would be our Christmas gift to each other this year. After all, I have a steady, as-secure-as-you-can-be-in-this-economy job, and Aaron is working at the moment as well. We have saved a little money, and it seemed like the perfect splurge, seeing how we’ve been drooling over those shiny, new flat panel HD TVs for some time now.

While we like the rush of the Black Friday excitement, I knew TVs were going to be the hot item this year, and I wasn’t so thrilled with the prospect of camping out all day at a store to be one of the 5 people to get one at a good price. But then my friend Jenna shared on Facebook that Sears would have an excellent TV on sale for an incredible price the Sunday before Black Friday.

We waited for Sunday. And then I searched TVs on the Sears website and found it. It was an incredible deal: 46″ Sony LED TV for nearly half the retail price. Perfect. (BTW, thank you for the tip, Jenna!)

Instead of waiting in line for hours, we simply walked into the store, explained which TV we wanted, and walked out 15 minutes later with our TV. No Black Friday sale could match that.

We planned to set it up Friday night. I carefully cleaned around the TV stand, preparing the space for the new TV and dusting off the old one. “What should we do with this old TV?” Aaron asked.

“Let’s just offer it up on Facebook,” I suggested. “I’m sure one of our friends could use a TV. We’ll just put it in a corner until someone can come get it.”

Here’s the dramatic part of the story, though. You see, unlike these beautiful new flat panel TVs, the old-style televisions with their tubes and lack of flatness aren’t exactly lightweight. Actually, they’re about as heavy as large granite boulders, and roughly as easy to carry. I knew our 32″ TV was heavy, and I was already dreading trying to lift it.

Aaron stood on one side and I stood on the other. We got our hands under it and slid it a little to the edge of the stand. I was already trying to prepare myself for the weight, telling myself it was only a few shuffle-steps to get it across the room and set it down. Aaron asked if I was ready, and I nodded, pulling up on the TV with all of my strength.

We had just cleared the TV stand when I became certain this was a bad idea.

“I can’t hold it! I’m losing it!” I cried as my fingers started to slip. I tried to get my knee under it to help prop it up, forgetting that it weighed two tons and my knee was just as incapable of supporting two tons as my hands were. At that point I pulled my knee back up and tried to just get it gently down to the ground. But then my fingers lost their grip entirely.

I then learned that TV cases aren’t made nearly as well as I had hoped.

The case shattered into about a million pieces as it hit the ground. Aaron began a long string of cursing while I held my fingers – now missing a few layers of skin – and apologized that I wasn’t strong enough to hold it.

So much for giving it away on Facebook.

But then we had a new problem. Any movement caused more of the case to crack off, and with the case half shattered, it was now impossible for anyone to lift. And with sharp plastic shards everywhere, it couldn’t stay in the living room for the kids to find.

I suggested we slide it out to the garage. Aaron found a large piece of cardboard and we carefully slid the broken TV onto it. We slid it across the carpet about 5 feet before the TV shifted and tipped over, with a loud crackle of more splintering plastic, followed by more cursing from Aaron.

It was obvious that the case was only getting in the way, so Aaron took out some frustration by ripping off the remainder of the case from around the metal and glass parts of the TV and breaking the wires and circuit board to make it easier to transport. At that point we were able to successfully drag/scoot/slide it to the garage.

Now we have a useless, broken TV in our garage. But hey, the flat panel TV was a breeze to set up!

Anyone want a TV we’ll describe as “needs work”?

Filed Under: Aaron, clearly insane, daily life · Tagged:


Nov 16, 2010

A Day Out With Cordy

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Over the weekend Mira was invited to a birthday party for a little girl in her preschool class. As any 3 year old would be, she was proud she had an event to go to, something that was just for her as well as her parent escort.

I decided to make the most of it and have a one-on-one morning with Cordy. Thanks to a little sister who insists on always being on my lap or hanging off of me whenever we’re at home, I feel like Cordy and I often don’t get much time to chat and bond. This would be our chance to hang out with no interference from Mira, where she could have my undivided attention and I might get the chance to see what’s going on in that pretty little head of hers.

I left the plans open to her, and she decided we were going to the zoo, followed by lunch at Bob Evans. Thankfully, the forecast was for a warm, sunny day – rare in November – so I happily agreed.

Once at the zoo, Cordy was intent on riding all of the rides. The Columbus Zoo has an area called Jungle Jack’s Landing that features carnival-type rides for kids, but this area was blocked off with a sign announcing it was closed for the season. Cordy was disappointed, but I suggested we try to look at some of the animals while we were there, since, you know, it IS a zoo.

With no little sister to object, Cordy demanded we go to her favorite places: the fish and the snakes. For some reason, those two exhibits are her favorites. She loves watching the fish swim around, “driving” the boat in the manatee area. We talked about all of the different fish, and she oohed and aahed over the pretty colors of the coral in the tank.

In the reptile house, she pushed all of the buttons in the information area before moving on to the display animals. She chattered about each one, pointing out one was really long, another was hiding in a tree, and yet another had a funny shaped head. We had nowhere to be, so I let her go at her own pace as she went through her normal routine of pushing buttons, asking me to point out where we live on the map, and then talking about each snake as we walked past them.

Outside of the manatee exhibit, I also let her climb on the manatee sculpture – something I’m usually unwilling to wait around for. But it wasn’t crowded, so there was no wait.

(Cordy, the manatee rider!)

After that, Cordy wanted to ride the carousel – the only ride open in the zoo that day. I purchased a ticket for her and we waited in line. When did she get so big that she now wants to go on the carousel? I remember her crying at the thought of riding it years ago. I remember sitting with her on the bench seats of the carousel because the up and down motion of the horses scared her too much. Now here she was picking the horse she wanted, holding on tight and waving to everyone instead of keeping a death-grip on me.

Having seen her favorite animals and taken her ride on the carousel, Cordy announced it was time to go to lunch. But not before asking to pose (yet again) with her favorite penguin statue.

(This well-loved statue could use a little paint.)

We then went to Bob Evans, where Cordy got to sit on her side of the little booth with no one next to her. “Mom, I’m all alone over here,” she announced, “Can’t you sit with me?” I explained that there was no room for me over there, and that she was big enough to sit by herself now. Stretching out her arms, she decided she liked all of the space to color and work on her activity sheet.

After the meal, Cordy begged for dessert. I normally say no, but since this was her special day, I gave in and agreed. She loved every bite of her sundae, even as I cringed and realized the coloring in the hot fudge and cherry might provoke a behavioral reaction later.

(Side note: it did. She didn’t act the same the remainder of the day and had a fierce meltdown that night over spelling a word wrong. My lesson from this? Even if it’s her special day, we still have to hold firm to rules about “bad” foods.)

(And notice that big gap in her smile – she lost both front teeth in the last 2 weeks!)

On the way home, she fell asleep in the car, but not before telling me that this was “the best mommy-Cordy day ever.”

And it was.

I don’t know how many more years she’ll want to spend time with me in public, but I’ll selfishly hang onto these moments for as long as I can.

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Filed Under: Cordy, daily life, family time, growing up, love, memories ·