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Feb 2, 2012

Dog Person. Sort Of.

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When I was six years old, my mom adopted our first cat. From that moment on, we always had cats in our house. Sometimes it was just one or two, other times a pregnant cat would find her way to our doorstep and suddenly we’d have a house full of whiskers and fur. My mom has a soft spot in her heart for a sad kitty, and even if we had no room, she’d still take the cat in and then work to find it a good home somewhere else. (She still does this today. But now she lives on a farm and can let them be barn cats if needed.)

It’s only natural, then, that I’d be a cat person, too. While I didn’t always like some of our cats, I still enjoyed sitting on the couch in the evening with a cat curled up next to me, purring loudly. As I settled in to my first apartment after college, one of the first must-have things I needed to make it feel like home was a cat.

Dogs? Dogs were cute, but I wasn’t as attached to them. I’d never pass up the chance to pet a cute puppy, but I’ve always been a little more cautious of dogs than I am with cats. This is probably due to a bad experience with a dog owned by one of my mom’s friends when I was younger. She was a large doberman that we had to pass by in order to get into the house.

I understand now that she was just a happy, excited dog that liked to bark and jump on people, but that same exuberance, in the mind of a four-year-old, translated to dog-wants-to-kill-me-and-eat-me. I was terrified. And we lived with that friend for part of a year,which meant I had to get past that killer dog in the backyard on a daily basis.

Since then, I’ve lost any fear of dogs, but I’ve still preferred my cats. Even when we decided to adopt a dog last month, my first concerns were to how my sweet kitties would handle the stress of a dog in the house. Loving the dog wouldn’t be a problem, but my cats would always come first.

Now that Cosmo is here, I’m forced to confess: I’m a sucker for that dog.

Not that Cosmo has made it easy for me, though. He’s chewed thru nearly every toy I’ve bought him – some in as little as an hour – costing us a small fortune in dog toys. When I’m not looking he’ll try to chew Mira’s shoes. Not any shoe he can find – just hers. He likes to lick me, which I generally don’t care for. He drools.

While I expected him to be a decent-sized dog, I didn’t expect him to double his size in a month. He’s stubborn, refuses to give up sitting on the couch (a habit he picked up in his foster home – at least we have compromised to have him only sit on one side of the couch), and even at 55+ pounds still thinks he’s a lap dog. He knows his basic manners, but all that puppy energy means he often forgets his commands when excited.

And he burps in my face. Ewww.

Unlike my cats, however, there is this constant desire for acceptance in his eyes. Each time he wrinkles his forehead and looks to me, I can see his mind furiously working, wondering if I’m pleased with whatever he’s doing, waiting for the next command, hoping I’ll just scratch his belly or give in and let him lick my hand. I know if he’s done something wrong before I even know the details of the actual offense: it’s written all over his face. (The guilty dog look may just be one of the best dog traits ever. I wish my kids had that look.)

Cosmo hangs out with us while watching TV. He can go with us to the park, or walk around our neighborhood, or travel in the car to spend time with friends at their house. As much as I refer to my Siamese cats as being dog-like in nature, they still want nothing to do with the world outside of our house, and generally wander off if the TV is on. All the dog wants in life is some food, a place to sleep, and most importantly, to be with us.

So I’m a dog person now. Sort of, I guess. I still don’t like being licked, and I refuse to budge on letting him on any furniture other than one corner of the couch, but I love when he greets me at the door each day with that wagging tail and I am thrilled at how well the kids respond to him.

I continue spending a fortune on new dog toys to keep him entertained. We even enrolled him in a doggie daycare program to give him more chances to socialize with other dogs and run out some energy one day a week.

Doggie daycare…seriously. The old non-dog-person me is shaking my head in disapproval right now. But he’s a part of the family now, so we’ll take care of his every need, including his need for socialization when we have busy weeks.

And the former non-dog-person me admits it’s hard to say no to that sweet puppy face.
Filed Under: Cosmo, me me me, memories ·


Jan 16, 2012

Not So Funny?

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I was reading through Facebook updates last week and came across an image shared by a friend of mine. Like so many of the word images shared on Facebook, I immediately laughed when I read it.

The image?

But more interesting was the commentary beneath it. My friend also found this funny, saying this was so like her. Another of her friends, however, replied that as a mother of a child with ADD, she didn’t find it funny at all.

Hmmm. It make me wonder if I should feel guilty for laughing?

Would this be considered making fun of a disability? I don’t know. I mean, for many types of humor, there is often a nugget of truth that is exaggerated for comedic effect, or a stereotype stretched to a ridiculous extent. If I was to be offended by any exaggeration of a personality trait, physical trait or behavior, I’d pretty much have to avoid every comedy club and never watch The Daily Show ever again. I’d really miss Jon Stewart.

But I don’t know if laughing at something like the image above is equal to teasing the kid who is different on the playground. My take on the image is also a little different because I actually have ADD. I read that statement and think, “Hell yeah, I’ve had days not too different from that!” Days when I’m in a full contact wrestling match with my mind to pin down a little focus – on any topic, I don’t even care which one – just for a few minutes.

So I read that and see the nugget of truth. It IS hard to focus with ADD. I’ve had moments where friends stare at me strangely because I’ve jumped topics in such a way that they don’t see the connection.

On the other hand, I can understand her friend not finding it funny. We all have our trigger issues that we don’t see any humor in. I’m certain her friend does have rough days caring for a child with ADD. As a mom of a daughter with autism, I get it. Years ago, when Cordy was newly diagnosed, I wouldn’t have found any jokes about autism funny, either. I can respect her view, because no one can tell someone else what is or isn’t funny to them.

For me, however, I do appreciate the humor. As long as it isn’t intended in a harmful or mean-spirited nature or intended to tease one person, poking fun at ADD, or any other condition, in a gentle way is fine with me. I even appreciate a good autism joke – Cordy and I have learned to laugh at some of the more silly aspects of autism, of which there are MANY if you look closely enough.

It also boils down to a simple mantra for me: laugh or cry. There are moments when I need, need, NEED to pay attention, to focus, to not screw up some important task that I must stay on track to complete. Sometimes I win out; other times I fail. I can either choose to cry in frustration at my limitations, or I can laugh at them and move on. One way is certainly less depressing than the other.

So I apologize if you read the above joke on ADD and are offended, because no offense was intended. (Whoa, that rhymed. Sorry, I tried writing that sentence another way and it didn’t sound nearly as good.)

I also don’t know if it’s more acceptable to laugh at an ADD joke posted by someone who has ADD, but if so, laugh away. I certainly did.


(PS – It took me a week and about a dozen starts and stops to write this post. Can you tell it’s been a rough week? See? This is me choosing to laugh.)

Filed Under: big issues, me me me, random ·


Jan 2, 2012

Another Year, Another Chance To Do More

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Well, hello there 2012. Pleased to meet you.

With 2011 officially in the history books, I can now reflect back on the year that has passed. I didn’t have a lot of lofty goals for the year, but I’m happy to say that many good things I wanted to see happen did materialize in 2011.

Aaron finding a permanent job? Yep, that happened in the fall, and he loves his job.

Me getting a permanent position and health insurance? Well, no on the first, but we did get health insurance through Aaron’s job, so that’s a win.

Lose another 20 pounds? Not quite. I did finish the year 12 pounds lighter than the end of 2010 (and lost 12 pounds the year before that, too), so I’m quite content with the trend.

More time with the kids? On a daily basis, I’m still disappointed with how little quality time I get with Cordy and Mira. But we did have some fantastic family experiences this year, including a trip to Cedar Point and Lake Erie and our annual vacation to Great Wolf Lodge. Aaron and I agreed that we need to do more small vacations like these in the future, because the memories stick with us far longer than any toy or game we could give the kids.

I still spent 2011 carrying a lot of stress and feeling very uninteresting. But I did get away to two fantastic blogging conferences and felt inspired to start shaping a plan of how I intend to find myself and my happiness again in 2012.

2011 ended better than 2010 (which was better than 2009, etc…) and I’m incredibly grateful for such a strong end to the year. We’re still fighting our way back from the low point in 2008, but we’re determined to keep making each year better than the last.

So then…what’s on the menu for 2012?

First up: FIND MYSELF. I can’t stress this one enough. Through the past few years, I feel like my inner self, my soul, has been washed away in a tide of stress, responsibilities and duty to conform. If I were to be handed a blank piece of paper today and asked to write a short description of who I am – leaving out physical descriptions, job and relationship titles, and medical conditions – I’d be at a loss to come up with little more than I like blue and Lady Gaga, and chocolate chip cookies are my favorite cookie. I guess it’s a start, right? Time to fill up that blank paper with a little more substance by rediscovering myself.

Health and wellness continue to be important for me this year, too. I’ve lost 12 pounds for each of the past two years, so another 12 this year would have me right on the edge of a “healthy” weight. I’ve done it the past two years; I can do it this year as well. I’ve also got a great blogging opportunity coming up soon to help me with this goal. (More on that as soon as I can share it!)

Other than that, I’m not setting any additional expectations on the year. Better to keep my wishes open ended rather than get smacked down by the universe for being greedy in expecting too much. I’m ready to actively find and embrace some good, in whatever form of good the year chooses to reveal to me.

So let’s make it a damn fine year, 2012. Because if, in the first early minutes of 2013, I can reflect back and declare 2012 to be even better than 2011, I’ll consider it another winning year and be so very thankful for the continuing upward trend.

Couldn’t we all use a lengthy streak of good luck?

Filed Under: daily life, family time, me me me, memories ·


Dec 12, 2011

The (Not So) Great Plague of 2011

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Well, hello there. Got a little quiet in here, didn’t it?

I’d like to say I was too busy with fantastic adventures since I last wrote a post, but the truth is my entire family was brought to its knees thanks to a microscopic villain.

It all started just over a week ago.We had a family outing that Friday to my company’s annual holiday party. Everyone was in good spirits at the party. Mira got her face painted:

Rainbow butterfly FTW

Cordy visited with Santa:

And all I want for Christmas is to get away from this creepy bearded guy…

That night we arrived home full of happiness and holiday cheer, tucked the children into their beds, and then tucked ourselves into our new (Black Friday sale) bed that had just been delivered earlier that day. Ahhh…domestic bliss.

And then Mira started vomiting at 3:30am.

Aaron and I changed her sheets, cleaned her up, and put her back to bed. I started the washing machine and went back to bed myself. We thought maybe it was too many cookies before bed that caused it.

Half an hour later, she threw up again. Change sheets, clean her up, put her back to bed, set old sheets near washing machine. Back to bed.

Thirty minutes later…well, you can probably guess the pattern at this point. It reached a point that I ran out of sheets and had her sleeping on towels. Towels that I still had to change every thirty minutes.

Aaron got up with her eventually and moved her downstairs. At least if he was nearby he could get a bucket to her when she started to feel sick, thereby sparing us more laundry. Every time she was sick, I was meticulous about cleaning up with antibacterial soap and insisted we wash our hands well. It could have been the cookies, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

By the end of the day on Saturday, Mira was mostly back to normal. She ate dinner, teased her sister, and it seemed the worst was over. Sunday morning and afternoon were also happily boring and normal.

I took a nap Sunday afternoon to prepare for going to work that night, and when I woke up I discovered Aaron now felt ill. Within an hour his nausea turned into a full stomach virus with all the symptoms you can imagine. The cookies were now no longer being blamed on Mira’s illness. I put the girls to bed on my own, as Aaron was completely down and out at this point.

I felt completely fine at this point, so I made myself dinner then showered and prepared for work. Suddenly at 9:30pm, my stomach felt a little off. I still had an hour before I had to leave, and made the decision that a quick nap would make everything better.

Half an hour later, I knew I had been conquered by the viral army. I called off work, told Aaron I was sick, too (he was still camped out on the couch) and went back up to bed. It didn’t take long before the vomiting started.

Twelve hours later, the vomiting finally stopped. Like Mira, I threw up at least every thirty minutes all night long. I didn’t sleep, and I was hot and then cold all night long. I stayed in bed all day the next day, and by evening I still didn’t feel strong enough to even walk downstairs or eat anything. No work again that night. Aaron (who had mostly recovered by this point) brought me Sprite to sip and took care of the girls that evening.

Tuesday morning, I felt a little better. I ate a little bit of toast and had finally gone downstairs. I was thankful to be over this virus, and thankful Cordy had avoided it. Aaron told me how she had avoided us the past two days, saying she didn’t want to touch either of us for fear of getting sick. Poor kid – she was so scared of getting sick.

Which is why I felt even worse when the school called at 2:30pm that day to say Cordy had just lost her lunch on the office floor.

I didn’t go to work again that night. I still felt weak, and poor Cordy spent the night delirious from being sick, drifting in and out of a restless sleep, talking to no one, and constantly moving as if she couldn’t get comfortable. Aaron and I took turns being with her and as a result got little sleep ourselves.

Wednesday morning, Cordy finally snapped out of it. She was tired, but was at least making sense when you talked to her. By mid-afternoon she was asking for food and by evening she was back to normal.

I still wasn’t feeling great, but went to work that night anyway. While the rest of the family had fully recovered, I couldn’t entirely rid myself of the nausea and an odd, dizzy feeling. The feeling was still there when I woke up Thursday afternoon, so as soon as Aaron got home I went to urgent care.

The result? Double ear infection. Apparently this wasn’t my week.

I started antibiotics that night, and then spent the weekend trying to catch up from everything I’d missed during the week. Sadly, the world doesn’t pause when you’re sick, and I never realized how fast email could pile up in an inbox. (Or laundry in a hamper. Ugh.)

At the moment I’m mostly back to normal. I’m not entirely convinced the antibiotics are strong enough to do the job, but I’ll give them a few more days to prove themselves.

It seems the evil stomach virus that brought down all of us has been making its way into many homes this week. I guess I should be thankful we got it out of the way before Christmas. We’ve had far too many Christmas celebrations that ended with someone sick.

So that was my last week or so. How are you?

Filed Under: Aaron, Cordy, me me me, Mira, plague · Tagged:


Nov 23, 2011

Happy Blogiversary To Me

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I completely missed my blog’s anniversary yesterday. Whoops. Yesterday marked six years since I decided LiveJournal was so 2004 and abandoned it in favor of my own independent blog.

What do I get myself for a blog anniversary? Wikipedia says the sixth anniversary gifts are iron, sugar or wood, depending on which chart you use. I’m holding out for my seventh anniversary: wool. In November, a nice wool sweater or socks would be lovely.

Instead, this year I gave myself a little bit of nostalgia. I read back through some of my old blog posts and laughed at how much I forgot. Thank goodness I wrote it all down – there are so many incredible stories of my daughters that I never would have remembered without my little corner of the Internet.

Oh, how I miss those curls on Cordy…

Six years ago I had one cranky toddler, worked part-time at a university, and weighed about 50 pounds more than I do now. In some ways I was happier – I had more free time, mostly – but in other ways I see how much we were struggling with the adjustment to being parents and the financial strains we were under.

So much was different then. Mira wasn’t even a thought yet. Autism was just something I connected with the movie Rain Man. I had yet to start nursing school. Aaron still had long hair. And I still felt like a rookie mom, both overconfident and unsure of everything, all at the same time.

As I read through my archives, I see how much motherhood has changed me in six years. I’m fighting harder than ever for a better life for my kids. Tolerance for others, the environment, healthier foods, equality, health care, civil rights…it all matters more to me now. Being a special needs mom has also changed my outlook on so many things: that grumpy, strong-willed toddler from the start of this blog is now a charming, beautiful, autistic girl who depends on me to fight for her to get the services she needs to help her cope with this world, as well as understanding from others who may first try to dismiss her due to her autism.

But on this Thanksgiving eve, I’m especially thankful that I started this blog. Coping with all of the changes we’ve gone through would not have been as easy without this space to write it all out, and the friends I’ve made through this blog who have been my support when I felt like giving up on everything. The community of moms I’ve met through blogging has been fantastic – along with my close “real-life” friends, many of my blog friends and commenters have been my shoulders to lean on, my place to turn for advice, and (I hope) I’ve been able to be the same for them as well.

If you have some time, browse the archives. There are some fantastic and funny posts hidden in there. And some adorable photos of Cordy and Mira, too.

So for all of you still reading, thank you. I’m thankful for having this space to share my life with all of you, and for the friendship and community you’ve shared with me.

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Filed Under: holidays, love, me me me, memories, mom blogs · Tagged: