Autism Land-- Like Candy Land... On Crack

To Act or React?

2011-10-17T01:12:00.000-06:00

“Life is 10% of what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it.”

John Maxwell -

Inner Peace. Often this is more a theoretical concept to me than an actual state of being. Lately, I have been circling the drain peace-wise. Has my life been overwhelmingly stressful? Sure. More so than other times in the past five years? Probably not.

The same people behave in the same ways. There's really nothing new there. I mean, it's a constant level of pure crazy. Dealing with unreasonable people as if they are someday going to be reasonable is tiring at best. Discouraging and depressing at worst. I have found myself in tears more than I would like in the past few weeks. I am weary of having to deal with pure crazy. Seriously. Way past tired of it. I have reached a level of emotional weariness that is making it tough to keep living my "normal life" of motherhood, paying bills, going to school and applying for grad school.

My normal life is crazy enough without the demand of an old spent relationship rattling back into my world over and over. Unfortunately, some people you can't get rid of, even when you are long done with anything positive coming of the relationship. I am like many divorced moms out there trying to maintain some semblance of balance, dignity and respect with my children's father. And his current wife.

It's a very challenging balancing act. Sort of like walking on a tightrope between two tall buildings on an incredibly windy day. When it's raining fire. And there is a massive earthquake happening. And flying monkeys shrieking through the air. And you have forgotten your balancing pole to help in this walk of death.

Sort of like that....

Actually, that is a nice, gentle description of how this craziness affects my life right now.

But, regardless of how I react to the daily barrage of lunacy, it's not going to change someone else's behavior. All I can do is change my own response to it.

I have tried being overly kind and semi-passive thinking it would roll over soon enough. That was a disaster, but helped me recognize that "peace at all costs" needs to include some peace of mind for me. I cannot absorb the anger and anxiety of someone else forever without finally having a meltdown (or three) myself.

I have tried being angry and "mean" although my version of "mean" is pathetic. My heart just isn't in it. It's not in me to be mean to anyone. I'm grateful that being cruel and aggressive is not a quality I have ever had. Trying to create it within myself is a joke. It's just not who I am regardless of who I'm dealing with.

I have found myself wanting to find some form of numbness so I don't notice the shit flying all the time. Self-medicating has definitely been a consideration the past couple of years. Unfortunately, I don't drink or take drugs, so that whole idea is a failure before it even starts. With no form of self-medicating, I suck at numbing myself.

This leaves me with the final option-- that of walking across the tightrope and trying to get to the other side.

My secret weapons:

Family--

I have the most amazing family support on this planet. I'm sorry for whatever you might have, because there's no way you have it as good as me in this regard. My mom was also a single mom in her 40's who worked full-time, went to graduate school, and managed to make Thanksgiving dinner for all of us. She has been my greatest cheerleader when I'm exhausted with school, exhausted with thinking, ready to drop out and be a Wal-Mart cashier rather than finish what I started. My brothers have offered all the money in their wallet, a shoulder to cry on, their amazing wives as sisters for me, their children to hug and hold when I am missing my own children and generally having my back no matter what happens.

I am forever blessed having been born into this family.

Good Friends--

I can't believe how many years I spent in isolation when I was raising my children. I could simply not function without my friends at school and work. I have met so many divorced moms on campus who are dealing with many of the same things I am and so many bigger challenges than I will ever know. I have a lunch group that meets Tues and Thursday in the UVU Cafeteria that literally helps me push through the week. There's something about sitting with "my ladies" for an hour and venting over salad and dessert that feeds my soul.

I have also met so many people who are in their 20's. I don't know if they are incredibly mature or (more likely) I am eternally immature. But, we understand each other. I treasure the friendships I have with these young people who are getting ready to take off in their adults lives. I am proud of each step they take to spread their wings. It is an honor to have them as friends at this exciting time in their lives. I am a proud mother to each one.

My Own Goals--

I spent almost two decades immersing myself in the needs of my husband and children. I loved that time and the investment I made in their happiness. However, being pushed out of my comfort zone into setting my own educational and career goals outside of what everyone else needed from me was a gift I didn't anticipate. I fought it as hard as I could. It didn't seem right to me to make my own plans without taking care of everyone else first.

Without my own achievements under my belt I would easily drown in other's definition of me. Some definitions of me are better than others. Since I am talking about the challenges of dealing with the Ex and His Current today, let me simply say that they aren't starting a Laurie Fan Club any time soon... In fact, they are working feverishly to make sure that my kids won't either.

It is a painful thing to experience and see in my precious children.

But, I continue to press forward with hope that with time many of these issues will resolve and heal. I press forward hoping that someday my own heart will heal from the pain of this time.

I realize that three years from now all my children will be over 18 and I will hopefully have a master's degree to show for this time of being in emotional survival mode.

I am creating how much peace or chaos I feel in my life. If I remain in a state of constantly reacting to other's opinions and behaviors I will never feel peaceful or secure or safe within my own world.

It's time to go back to Acting in my own life. Re-Acting has had a good long run and it's time to retire that role.

I can do this. So can you.

Uppity Women

2011-09-23T15:22:00.000-06:00

"Well behaved women rarely make history..."

~ Marilyn Monroe

Oh, Marilyn... Isn't that the truth? When I was a newlywed a million years ago I was referred to by my new father-in-law as an "uppity woman". (No, it was not meant to be the complimentary term of endearment which I chose to view it.) It was meant as a term to remind me of my "place". Apparently, in that family, my "place" was to be seen and not heard if I were to disagree. If I was going to be seen I had better look pretty too.

Unfortunately for me, and that entire family, I was not comfortable in the seen and not heard and always look pretty box that was the expectation. I was far more natural in the speak up when I have a thought that goes along with the topic, even if it is a differing thought. I was not intending to be one of those people who is argumentative. To the contrary in fact. I am rarely, if ever, on the side of being confrontational and I honestly hate discord.

I love to find common ground among differing views and seeing where we can agree because I think we are far more alike than different as human beings. It is fascinating to me to continue studying human behavior and relationships. Particularly our most intimate relationships, those which we find in our homes and families with our children and, more specifically, our partners, lovers, spouses, best friends, and companions.

Having spent nearly two decades married and now five years back on the single scene, there are a number of things I recognize in these relationships. There are similarities whether we are blissful newly in love couples or long term married folks with growing children. Or anywhere we might find ourselves in between.

There is an interesting balance we need to have as partnerships. We all approach these relationships with expectations of male and female roles, who does what, who says what, who approaches who on which issues. I don't know that we always recognize that we have these specific expectations, but if we look closely at the times when we are the most frustrated or most happy it is typically those times when our expectations are being violated or fulfilled.

For example, there are certain things I miss about being married. Just things in general that have to do with male and female roles. I miss having a man who takes out the garbage and locks the door at night (recently reminded by a male friend that locking the door is actually known by males as "Securing the Perimeter"). I miss having a man to fire up the barbecue and grill something. I especially miss having a man to plunge the toilet or figure out what's wrong with the electricity when it goes out. I also miss having someone to get the oil changed or new tires on the car or any other automotive need.

Now, don't get me wrong... I'm an uppity woman and I plunge my own toilets and take out my own garbage. I have even learned how to fix the electric breaker when it has tripped. I get my own oil changed and buy my own tires. I have never learned how to grill anything however, so I have to save those special times for hang outs with my brothers or male friends. None of them can please me as much as when they say they are going to start a fire and use their masculine selves to make some type of meat item for my consumption. Oh yes, that is some kind of "You Man, Me Woman" paradise for me...

We enter these very intimate relationships with expectations of how we will behave, assuming that these behaviors will enormously please our partner. We assume our partner will behave in certain ways that will enormously please us. Unfortunately, most of these expectations are unseen and unspoken and not even unearthed until they are violated in our opinion.

If I were in a relationship with someone and I said, "Oh! I'd love to barbecue tonight!" and he looked at me and said, "Me too!" and then he waited for me to fire up the grill and cook I would be a big, pouty, grumpy woman. Now, I don't know. Maybe his Mom did all the grilling. Who can say? Maybe our expectations really collided on the barbecue deal. But, chances are, in this hypothetical grilling situation, he could be upset with me for getting him excited about me firing up the barbecue when I was upset with him for the same reason.

So many expectations go unmet in our relationships, not because we don't adore our companions, but because we are not actually aware of the expectations to begin with. Many of us fall in love and marry based on future career goals meshing, how many, if any, children we would want together, and other external values. But, this leaves so much of the day in, day out types of expectations unspoken, unwritten, unconsidered.

And then, we unexpectedly seem to be continually letting each other down, frustrating each other, without even knowing why. Why, we ask. Why, when I love this person so much and want to be with them forever, why do they drive me crazy???

The answer will often lie in expectations.

Some expectations to consider:

Who decides how we spend money? Who makes money? Do we share an account or have separate funds?
Do we go to church together? Do we want religion?
How involved do we want to be in relationships with in-laws?
How and with who do we celebrate holidays?
How do we spend weekends?
How do we divide up housework?
How do we divide up yardwork?
Who picks out and buys Christmas gifts and sends Christmas cards, if we send them?
How much time do we spend together?
Are we each allowed time to spend alone with friends?
What constitutes cheating? Is it actually being physically intimate or are secret relationships of any kind cheating?
Do we keep secrets from each other?

The successful couples I have seen have figured these things out. They have agreed to the terms of the contract, so to speak. The unhappy couples I know, myself included at one time, had differing views on these (and many more) issues that could never be agreed upon in a reasonable way.

Happy marriages and happy relationships are absolutely possible and something so worthy of working toward. But, our expectations for each other need to mesh with what we are able to give and where we are willing to change or compromise. It's not an impossible feat. It truly isn't. But, it's also not a natural, "being in love is enough" type of situation. It is like any other business partnership. We need to agree to terms, live up to our end of the bargain, and be willing to be flexible to work through the rough spots.

As an Uppity Woman who is hoping to someday make history, I think if I fail at these things, nothing else I succeed at will matter much...

Two Roads Diverged

2011-06-07T16:09:00.007-06:00

"Your journey has molded you for the greater good, and it was exactly what it needed to be. Don't think that you've lost time. It took each and every situation you have encountered to bring you to the now. And now is right on time."

-- Asha Tyson

I like the idea of a simple fork in the road.

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and sorry that I could not travel both" stated Robert Frost. I learned the poem at Kilo Jr. High school in 7th grade and have never forgotten it. The older I get, the more I realize the idea that there are two choices, two options to every challenge is a very simplistic idea. There was a time in my life when two options was too many and seemed like an overwhelming responsibility.

What if I made the wrong choice?? I felt every choice could make or break my life. One wrong choice and suddenly every other choice would dry up forever. Luckily, that's not the case.

Every fork in the road, no matter which side you choose, opens up many more options. It has never been a matter of two simple choices. Each step in the journey leads to different steps, different paths, and there is never an end to what we can choose.

I dropped out of college after I got married at 23, thinking I would go back after my husband finished, or after my children were in school. I honestly never dreamed I would wind up returning at the ripe young age of 43, with my single mom status and feeling like I looked and acted older than Moses. But, simply making the choice to return instilled a new passion in me.

I have discovered that there are many at my university even older than me (I know, right???). I have also discovered that the amount of years you have lived on the planet do not determine your actual age. For example, I'm 44 years old now, but have the sense of humor and flirt-ability I had as a 16 year old. Okay, possibly my flirt-ability is slightly more mature. Questionable though. I have met young kids on campus who are far more serious and grown up than me.

However, I have the discipline to study and pursue my educational path at an alarming rate to most people around me. I'm currently taking 19 credits during summer school. This is sort of like doing an entire school year (normally 32 weeks) in only 12 weeks. Each "semester" is six weeks long. It is pure insanity, I'm not even kidding. I'm learning to live with chronic exhaustion and a bottle of Excedrin (for the non-stop headache) with me at all times. When not in class or writing a paper or studying statistics in the math lab, I'm spending weekends with my sons Alex and Chris.

My family has been shocked witnessing my transformation from being perpetually undecided to having vision, passion, and a will to succeed no matter what it takes. I'm pretty shocked at this side of me as well. I figured I'd get back into school, kind of play around with it, and probably finish. Eventually. Instead, I'm studying like a demon, have my fall and spring semesters mapped out, graduation in April 2012 on my calendar, and preparing for grad school Fall 2012 on my agenda.

When did I become this super student who wants to be a career-focused woman? When did I veer off the path of Stay At Home Mommy Avenue to Dedicated College Student Boulevard?

I think most of the time life circumstances dictate which paths we choose from. I was forced to leave full-time stay at home motherhood for full-time earn a living life. I fought that change. I wanted to continue baking bread and making cookies for my kids. I didn't like changing my lifestyle from "we'll get done today whatever we get done" to "leave the house at 7:00 am, dressed, polished, and ready to please a boss". I was angry and insulted that I had to walk that road I hadn't chosen.

But, as much as I hate the cliche' "That which does not kill us makes us stronger" (yes, I really REALLY hate that statement, and I say it with full sarcasm if I say it at all) I have had to admit it's a truism. I thought all of these changes would kill me. I thought I was losing all my choices in life because I got divorced.

What I didn't realize was this was opening up an entirely new journey for me. I have met New Laurie. Pursuing these dreams doesn't mean that the life I had before is erased or didn't count. Not at all. Actually, being a stay at home Mom for years and years gave me all of the skills to be so successful where I am now.

I can manage time in very creative ways, multi-task like you wouldn't believe, and have people skills to deal with all sorts of personality types. I have compassion for others who are falling behind, even as I know to take care of myself first so I can show compassion and reach out. My years of studying autism to understand my sons' needs has helped me know how to find the best research and write a paper faster than I dreamed possible. I have life experience to offer others who haven't crossed the same bridges yet.

There are many opportunities still open to me in the life I have left that I never dreamed possible. Yet, here I am-- experiencing as many as I can.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less travelled by,
and that has made all the difference

-- Robert Frost

Surfing, Love and Fear

2011-05-27T22:14:00.009-06:00

To love someone deeply gives you strength. Being loved by someone deeply gives you courage.

~ Lao Tzu

I love being on a beach. Especially a warm beach. I love to watch the waves, feel the sand in my hands, the sun on my back. I love watching the birds that populate a beach, scavenging for whatever a tourist may have left behind. When I sit on a beach and watch the waves crash, it does a full reset on my brain. No matter how much I have been worried about, how much I have been trying accomplish, it all just disappears watching waves.

Since I love the beach so much and the peacefulness I feel there, obviously my first choice in where to live was Utah. Of course. It only makes sense. No beaches anywhere, no palm trees, no sand. Snow and cold for six months out of the year, so no sun on my back either. Yes, I agree. Living in Utah was a brilliant plan. I know, we have MOUNTAINS. We can SKI. Yes, yes. But, I hate snow, I don't ski, and the mountains don't have beaches and waves. I'm only slightly bitter about that. The fact that it's Memorial Day weekend and the high tomorrow is 63 degrees has me incredibly bitter. I need sunshine and I need it now.

The last time I was at the beach was two years ago when I went to see my brother in Los Angeles. He asked how I wanted to spend my few precious days there and my answer was simple. Beach. Waves. Sand. Sun. Palm Trees. That's all. I also had a few days of lounging next to his pool in the sun, which made my visit so perfect I cried all the way home on the plane coming back to Utah where it was snowing in April.

While we were at the beach, both of us zoning out watching the waves crash --or maybe it was just me... Maybe he was revealing the depth of his soul during that time but I didn't notice, so enamored as I was with the waves... If that's the case, MY BAD, Dave. Waves are my drug.

That day on the beach, some surfers were out. Now you add surfers and that just takes my waves to drug level ratio to the point of being like crack. I am a surfer junkie.

Surfers are everything I'm not. Surfers are BRAVE. They paddle out in that water, look for a wave, and just take it on. I am the biggest baby, chicken, scaredy cat you will ever meet. I am terrified of anything remotely dangerous. I will avoid that stuff at all costs. I will get my adrenalin elsewhere, perhaps while running from an enormous bear or lifting a car off a trapped child.

Surfers are GRACEFUL. They have some serious eye-hand coordination, as well as incredible footwork to keep them on a board. I am a clutz. A super duper clutzy clutz. I am Laurie the Clutz McClutzicutty. That's how clutzy and cloddish I am. Walking from one place to the next without falling and breaking an ankle, even with no apparent things to trip on, is nothing short of miraculous every time I do it. I am that girl who slams her shoulders into door frames, just walking through my house. I'm the girl who falls and sprains my ankle wearing new shoes. I am the girl who fell down an entire flight of stairs after sitting through a movie theater in the balcony section. Walking out of the balcony, I just flew down the entire flight of stairs, backwards, sideways, every possible uncool way. Yes, THAT GIRL. That's who I am.

Surfers are CHILL. They look so relaxed out there, being all brave and graceful. This type of activity is relaxing. I am high strung, hyper-anxious about everything and everyone. Doing something scary is not what I consider relaxing. Not ever.

Surfers like SURPRISES. They're watching and waiting for that perfect wave. Who knows when it will come, how huge it will be, and if they will even survive it to tell the tale after they have made the attempt. I like to know what's happening today and tomorrow and next year. I like to plan. I don't like being surprised and startled by changes.

Why all this talk about surfers? Besides that they are brave and graceful and chill and like surprises and they are, all of them collectively, just absolutely HOT. (Try to tell me you don't find surfers hot and I will call you a big fat liar. Because they are. Every one of them.)

I'm thinking of surfers tonight because I really miss the sunshine on my back, I am needing the brain reset of watching the ocean waves crash, I am wishing to see the fearlessness of a surfer as I am trying to brave ahead on my new journey in life. I'm feeling like I am being pulled under at times, and have no choice but to swim or drown. I have always had someone there with a life preserver in my life, in case things got too big and I got pulled under. But, the past few years I have just had ME. I save myself or I drown. It's not what I was looking to learn at any point in my life, but I am grateful to have learned it all the same.

I have also been thinking about love. Falling in love is relatively easy. I have done it many times. But, staying in love, keeping at love, many times seems more a risky venture than I want to attempt. Love is like surfing to me. To fall in love is one thing. I meet a man, I am attracted, I think he's funny and wonderful at this moment. That's all well and good as long as he's not falling in love with me too. Of course, YES, I will complain mightily if he's not. "It's not fair! I'm a nice girl! I'm funny and cool and loving! Why can't he just love ME???" I will whine and moan about this to anyone who listens. I will pout. I will take long bubblebaths and cry and wonder what is wrong with this world. There's a real safety in that self-imposed patheticness.

But, to have someone fall in love with me back? That is terrifying. That is the equivalent of ME, the scared of everything, clumsy, anxious, surprise hating girl grabbing a surfboard and running straight for the massive ocean, risking being pounded to shreds under the water, on some coral, eaten by a shark, who knows what. It sounds and feels just that crazy. Even though I will complain and cry about being lonely and wanting someone in my life so bad I can hardly stand it.

So, if someone comes along that I am finding special, I am astounded when they are mutually interested. Astounded and scared and want to run the other way. To risk being loved and trusting another person with your heart and soul means you are risking the Big Wave. Sure, a few people can really master surfing and can go through those enormous waves, riding clear through the tunnel, and coming out the other side alive, happy, well, and elated. But, some of us, not having any type of surfing skill to speak of, if we were to risk that Big Wave, would surely get pulled under, crushed alive, and a funeral would have to be planned. It's all very messy stuff.

Love is that way for me now. I'm in college studying relationships. I'm planning to go to grad school to be a Marriage and Family Therapist and teach relationship classes at a university when I'm done. I am learning relationship theory. I am learning the skills necessary for relationships to be healthy and happy. I am learning these things well enough to teach others all about it. But, it's much like me reading lots and lots of books about surfing techniques. I could read and read and still never know how to surf.

I can study and get A's from my Behavioral Science professors and still not know how to have a strong, long-lasting, healthy, happy romantic relationship. I still have my patterns which make me clumsy and anxious and scared. I have my past experience which makes me shy to ever even put one toe into the smallest of waves.

I would rather sit on the beach, feel the sand in my hands, the sun on my back, the waves crashing and the surfers surfing. It is safer for me to be gathering seashells, than to walk clear into the water and try to do something successfully that I haven't been able to manage before.

But, I don't know that I will be happy sitting on the beach forever. I don't know that I will never want to risk riding a wave, even if it does wind up crashing over me and I fall again.

I would like to imagine me, the Me I am becoming, walking courageously into the water, carrying a surfboard and finding that I am not as clumsy as I thought, I am not as scared as I thought.

Instead finding I am actually brave, graceful, beautiful, relaxed and loving each surprise as it startles and thrills me. Tonight I will dream of surfing, rather than just watching all the surfers from a distance. Tonight I will join them in the dance on the waves.

Girls Who Read

2011-05-24T00:29:00.007-06:00

"Life is better because you Know More, not because you Have More." -- anonymous

Is there anything more dangerous than a woman who reads?

Last August, I went back to college. Utah Valley University, to be exact. I had done years of school before I got married and never finished. After many years of marriage, stay at home motherhood joy, and a divorce that left me financially crippled, I decided it was time to buckle down and finish that degree in Behavioral Science with emphasis Family Studies.

When I started last August, I was working full-time at an elementary school as a paraeducator (teacher's aide) in a special autism unit of first graders. It was a demanding, exhausting, wonderful, inspiring, exhausting, fulfilling and exhausting job. I owned it and it owned me.

My first semester, I worked M-F 7:45 am - 3:30 pm, had a class Thursday nights from 5-9, an online class, and classes on Saturday from 8 am-1:15 pm. About two weeks into this schedule, which included weekends with my children, I was about two weeks past total exhaustion. I knew there was no way I could maintain both things, and I wasn't going to drop out of school again. I found a part-time job on campus in the Math and Academic Tutoring Lab that worked with my class schedule and actually allowed me to focus my attention on school. I finally wasn't exhausted.

I finished my first term with a 3.50, which would have been a 4.00 without the deadly effects of having to take Geology. **shiver** My second term, I was speeding through with three online classes, one class on campus, and my part time job working in the Lab. I got to know all the math and science tutors (who are all about my daughter's age), as well as the other Lab Assistants (those of us who run the front desk). Most are much younger than me.

My young friends had numerous titles for me, including "Lab Mom" (I love that one), "Queen of the Lab" (also that one), "Lab Goddess" (okay, I called myself that) and "The Laurie". I felt like "The Laurie" was particularly spectacular because it suggested there are many Laurie's in this world, but I was THE Laurie. (Thank you, The Rachel. I still love it.)

My friendships and experiences with these sweet people, including all the "regulars" who were studying in the Lab each day made it worth it to get out of bed in the morning, wear make up, and look cute. The Lab is full of guys, so I called my work time my "get my flirt on" time. And flirt I did. I discovered (again) that there's nothing stressful that a little (okay, A LOT) of flirting can't fix. The many young male students would say things like, "So you're what? 30??" There's nothing so stressful that having kids ask if you're 30 can't also fix. Believe me. A lot of days I dragged exhausted out of bed to school, so I could go to work and have someone ask me if I was all of 30.

An added benefit to my job was that I was taking a monster college algebra class after 25 years of no math, and had all the tutors at my disposal for my homework, which I did at work. Get paid to flirt, be accused of being 14 years younger than I am, and get my homework done as well? Yeah. No complaints. It's a good gig.

Girls Who Read. We are a dangerous lot. Not dangerous as far as we would hurt someone (unless you deserve it and then we totally will), but dangerous in terms of being able to stand on our feet, become fearless, and lose the neediness forever. I have gone from feeling like a victim of every circumstance possible to a strong, confident, assertive woman. I know where I'm headed, what I want, and how I will get there. There is nothing that is going to get in the way of reaching my goal. Those of you who have known me at various points of my life know this is an entirely New Laurie we are dealing with.

Men I have dated in the past are long gone, because the Laurie they knew is long gone. The people I meet now have the privilege of meeting the New & Improved, Super Deluxe Laurie. I carry myself with pride, not arrogance, knowing I can accomplish anything I set out to do. Any time I get an A on a paper, a test, or on a report card, I feel more capable of handling anything life might throw my way. It is an amazing feeling.

Not that challenges aren't thrown in my way every single day, usually multiple times a day. The same old stresses are there as before. How will I get my bills paid? How can I get all this homework done so when my kids are here I can be fully present with them, enjoying being their mom? How do I deal with my ex-husband when I have to?

My biggest challenge by far however has been "How do I handle all of this new information, with what I thought I knew?" To learn and be educated is wonderful. It is respectable. You have a diploma and letters next to your name on a resume. You qualify to make more money than a high school graduate.

But, you also have to deal with the conflict it might throw to your former self, your former way of seeing things, your former way of seeing yourself, your former view of the world. Academic Angst. It is a wonderful kind of agony, but agony all the same.

As I learn my vision expands, my world becomes larger, and I realize Old Laurie wasn't as smart as she thought. All the answers I used to have are now seen in terms of multiple choice answers. There are many answers to many issues, not simply one. We choose which answer or answers works for each situation. But, most situations are much more gray than the black and white I previously saw. This opens the door for added learning, adding more knowledge onto the pile and sorting through it.

I love school. I love learning. I always have. I love to read, even textbooks. I can't seem to get enough. But, it's introducing me to an All New Me. I love her and I fear her. There are moments when I wish I could go back to thinking in some of the simple terms I thought before. There are moments when it feels like a burden to have more solutions to each question than simply one.

There are many more moments when I feel the remarkable freedom that comes with knowledge. The freedom to see the world in the 64 crayon Crayola Box rather than the 8 crayon Crayola Box. Education is bringing me freedom to feel in control of my destiny, while causing me to let go of part of my past. It is a blessing and a curse.

I am a Girl Who Reads. Watch out.

Returning to the Past

2010-06-06T23:19:00.004-06:00

There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered. Nelson Mandela (1918 - )

When I was growing up in Seattle, we would spend our family vacations in Spanish Fork, Utah. I know, it doesn't sound as exciting as going to Disneyland or extensive RV trips across the country. But, to me, they were the highlight of the YEAR. In fact, I look back upon them as the highlights of my life.

My Grandma and Grandpa Mohlman lived in Spanish Fork. They had a huge vegetable garden in their backyard that my grandpa and his neighbor combined their back lots to grow. I have no idea the actual dimensions of it now, but as a kid it was HUGE. He grew apricot and cherry trees, potatoes, peas, cantaloupes, tomatoes, carrots, corn, and who knows what else. My Grandpa Mohlman had worked for the Government Department of Reclamation and he knew soil. He could grow anything anywhere. In his career, he was sent all over the world to show people how to amend their soil and what crops would be successful there. I still love to go pull weeds and plant and watch things grow because of the feelings it brings back of Grandpa.

One of the funnest things to me as a kid were those 4:00 am opportunities to get up with Grandpa to irrigate the garden and yard. I know to Grandpa this was just necessary drudgery, but to a kid, it was a magical event. Up in the middle of the night, helping to put the wood blocks in place so the irrigation water would rush the huge garden trenches and fill the grass in the yard past my ankles with water. I honestly thought it was the coolest thing ever.

We usually arrived in Utah late at night, but the next morning I'd be up with the sun to run to the two houses next door and announce my arrival to my summer friends, Kara and Jenny. We would write letters to each other all year long, then I'd be there for our summer reunion! This was back in the days long before text messages, email, Facebook, cell phones, and cheap long distance.

There were things in this small town life that I never experienced in my normal world of Federal Way, Washington.

One of them was "Night Games". I had never heard of "Night Games" until I spent my summers in Spanish Fork. It was like taking a step back in time. We played Red Rover, Kick the Can, Hide and Seek in the Dark. We played outside in 100+ degree weather without noticing all day long, had to come in to eat dinner, and then were back outside long past dark. Our parents knew we were safe because the entire neighborhood were out on lawn chairs chatting or taking their late night walks visiting their neighbors long past dark as well.

I was terrified of thunder and lightning until one summer I spent on a porch swing with my Grandma. Lightning storms in Utah are fairly common during the summer. My Grandma grabbed my hand when one started and dragged me out to the covered patio swing. We watched the lightning and she was so enthusiastic about how beautiful and majestic it all was that I started to see the beauty and lost the fear I had and now I love the summer lightening storms. We had one tonight, and I had to stop what I was doing just to go outside, sit on my porch and watch. I was wishing I could have been chatting with Grandma about life tonight as I did that.

Kara and I were in a state of constant "rehearsal" for a "show" we were going to do for our parents and grandparents. Every day a new show from us. Wow, they were patient people to put up with it. I'm sure they got some great hidden laughs about what we considered our Broadway Quality, absolutely.

When I was a senior in high school, we actually moved to Spanish Fork. It was all the magic I had during my summers and more. I had the greatest senior year ever, made so many wonderful friends, discovered there was a lot of high drama happening driving up and down Main Street every night and days at the ballpark were some of the funnest of my life. I'm looking forward to seeing so many of those friends next month at our 25th High School Reunion. I was grateful that all of those kids who had known each other all their lives accepted me as a newcomer as one of their own and still consider me a friend. I'm especially grateful that I got that year of high school with Kara and Jen.

So, why all of this talk of Spanish Fork?

I recently moved from Salt Lake City across the Point of the Mountain to Pleasant Grove and have reconnected with a number of my friends from Spanish Fork. My dad is now buried in the Spanish Fork Cemetery, so I have spent a number of days visiting his grave site, which is just a few blocks from what was my grandparent's home for 30 years. In fact, it's the first home I lived in when I got married. I recently drove my children past that home and the memories just rushed at me.

A good friend lives on some farmland in Spanish Fork. I have been out to visit a number of times. It has brought ME back to ME. I'm sure my friend has no idea it has this effect on me. Just being there, smelling the Russian Olive Trees as summer is quickly approaching is rushing all these wonderful memories of my childhood and high school years back to me. So many things about Spanish Fork are the same as when my dad was in high school there back in the late 50's.

The kids are on summer break now, so they stay out late and play Night Games. They still spend their days playing baseball at the ballpark. I'm sure Main Street is full of cars of teenagers every night.

There's something incredibly comforting to me with my life changing in so many directions at such a fast pace to know that Spanish Fork has remained much the same.

Remembering that I used to be just a happy kid with a sunburned face, running through the irrigation water at 4:00 am and watching lightning storms with wonder, hitting Glade's for M&M shakes and fries with fry sauce, rehearsing with Kara The Carpenter's "Top of the World", and hearing the crickets while I laid in bed at night... It was simply blissful.

To have the opportunity to return to a place of magical summers for me during this particularly stressful summer, and bring my children there for a short time to see some of the magic is also blissful.

I miss the innocence of my childhood. I miss my grandparents. I miss my Daddy most of all. But, returning to Spanish Fork for a few hours brings those memories back and reminds me that I'm the one in charge of creating the memories now for some precious kids and hoping that there will be some magic there for them, when all is said and done. Visiting that place is a reprieve from the agonies of being a single mom trying to hold it all together.

To my friends of Spanish Fork, thank you. Thank you for keeping so many of those traditions alive. I'm sure you had no idea it would bring so much joy and opportunity to relive wondrous memories for one weary woman.

It's a BOY!!!

2010-03-12T14:03:00.004-07:00

March 12, 1994 headline: WELCOME TO THE WORLD, MARCUS ALEXANDER JUDD.

I'm having a hard time believing that 16 years ago one of the most amazing journeys of my life had begun, and I didn't even know it. His name was Alex.

He was a beautiful, bald, 6 lb 12 oz baby boy that I fought for months to get here at the right time. When I was seven months pregnant, I was hospitalized for almost six weeks because Alex was so eager to arrive. He simply didn't want to wait the requisite nine months of baking required of human infants. But, I crossed my legs, laid in that hospital bed, and worked hard not to cough or sneeze or breathe too hard because that would start the hours and hours of premature labor that would follow. The doctors had to administer multiple medications (all horrific) to calm that boy down and keep him where he belonged until those little lungs of his were ready.

He was due on April 1st, but April Fools, Mom! I decided March 12th would be better!

Oh, the things I THOUGHT I KNEW, before this boy was brought into my world. I think we all experience that. We think we're just so smart, until we become parents ourselves. Each child teaches us something new about the world and about ourselves. All of my children have made me a deeper, more caring woman because they have come into my life.

Since today is Alex's day, I'd like to tell you what he has taught me so far...

A child with disabilities is not BROKEN. He's unique and beautiful and different.
There is a God, because I see him in my boy's face every time I look at him.
It is possible to remain happy and continue to believe in goodness, no matter what challenges you face.
Even the most hardened, bitter person can be putty in the hands of a lovely child.
A child's behavior is not always a reflection on how well you're doing as a parent.
School Smarts and Street Smarts are overrated.
You can believe in Santa Claus your entire life.
Disneyland really is the greatest place on earth, next to home.
Wishing to grow up and be a superhero is a fine goal.
When a child takes your face in his hands and says, "Please listen", do it.
Sesame Street is a still a fun show to watch.
The Blues Clues episodes that had Steve on them are way better than the Joe episodes.
The Three Little Pigs is a classic story.
Muppets rule.
Videogames aren't a total waste of time. They teach problem solving, fine motor skills, and I can get killed trying to take Alex on at any of them.
When Alex walks in the door and says, "It's so good to be home" I feel a rush of accomplishment that nothing else could bring me.
Being a Mommy is the greatest joy and gift in my life.

I had no idea that the day I held my boy for the first time, I would learn all these things. That day, I just wanted to hold and soothe my new baby. I dreamed a life for him of Little League, pee wee football, Jr. Jazz basketball, Scouting, being the Valedictorian and most popular kid in his school. I dreamed of him singing in the school choir like I did.

Instead, I got a boy who didn't speak in sentences until he was nearly 7. He wasn't fully potty trained until 1st grade. When he was frustrated, he could do a high pitched scream that almost made my ears bleed. He studied Disney movies instead of going to Cub Scout activities. He could climb any tree, or surface that could possibly be climbed. He preferred our neighborhood church for awhile, which was made of rock. He was afraid of the vacuum cleaner, the toilet flushing, the sound of the washing machine, and all other forms of "white noise". However, the sound of a fire engine siren didn't even make him flinch.

Even with his apparent oddness, I have yet to meet a person who doesn't fall in love with him instantly. As he grows in intelligence and ability in school and social settings, he hasn't lost his little boy innocence. He lives his life in a bubble of some sort that just doesn't allow the harshness of this world to enter in.

So, when people approach me, asking me "how I do it", raising these unique children, like it's a chore or a hardship in some way, I can only answer, "The pleasure and joy is all mine."

The joys of raising my Alex are too numerous to mention. My heart has expanded and softened and my ideas of success have changed forever.

If I never make a million dollars (I mean, seriously, I WON'T), I will still know that in my lifetime I did something of infinite value. I was given the gift of raising this wonderful boy.

Alex asked me a number of months ago about Heaven, and where his Papa was. He and my dad were buddies and Alex missed him after he died, almost more than me. I explained that Heaven was very close and Papa was in a healthy, happy body now and was looking forward to seeing Alex again someday. I also explained that someday, when Alex went to Heaven, he wouldn't have his autism anymore.

This idea horrified Alex! "But, Mom! I love my autism! I want to keep my autism forever!"

This is one of the three amazing children I was chosen to raise.

I am so incredibly blessed. He is a wonder to me.

Next time you see a parent with a "special" or "different" child, please-- don't pity them. Envy them. The gifts we receive in being entrusted with these beautiful babies go far beyond any challenges we face.

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart. You are my Joy.

Love,

Mommy

Words vs. Action

2010-01-28T10:00:00.003-07:00

Real integrity is doing the right thing, knowing that nobody's going to know whether you did it or not.: Oprah Winfrey

Epiphany of the day: WORDS ARE CHEAP. ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS. Any other cliches that I can add to that? The interesting thing I'm discovering about cliches is that the reason they have become cliches to begin with is because THEY ARE TRUE. They state the obvious.

So, WORDS ARE CHEAP and ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS.

I am always surprised when the words of people are such a contradiction to their behavior. Not everyone, of course. We all know people like this though. I have decided to grab a mental remote and turn down the volume for a while, so to speak, and just observe actions and let them "speak" for themselves. If I can just get past the blah, blah, blah and WATCH, suddenly things seem to become much more clear.

Of course, taking this course of action puts a lot of pressure on me because I realize my actions are speaking louder than my words as well. Could I pass the "turn down the volume test" with anyone who may be observing me? Do my actions always fit with what I say? Are my true intentions clear with what I DO as well as what I SAY?

I would hope so, but I doubt I'm 100% at any given time. None of us are. I think being a parent makes me aware that my example means more in how I behave than what I say. I have known most of my life that the whole "DO AS I SAY, NOT AS I DO" tact to child-rearing is not super effective, to say the least. I was very lucky growing up to have parents that taught by how they lived and let their actions speak for themselves.

A few things I learned from observing my parents, which they never actually SAID to me:

People are more important than THINGS, every time.
If someone needs your help, and you have it to give, GIVE IT.
Sometimes we need to receive help. Be gracious and humble.
Use your talents to bless other people.
Laugh at yourself. And other people. We're all ridiculous most of the time.
Don't take the problems of life too seriously. They will quickly pass and be replaced with new problems.
Give everyone the benefit of the doubt. Over and over.
Don't wait to forgive people for when you think they deserve it. Do it for your own peace of mind. They may never deserve it.
If today is a bad day, tomorrow is a new day to start fresh and do better.
Life is short. Live, laugh, and love TODAY.
Regardless of how alone you feel, you never actually are. God is always here.

I have no idea what my kids are learning from me strictly by observation. I know the things I hope I'm teaching them. Actually, I hope they're learning the same things I learned watching my parents. I'm actually a little afraid wondering what my kids are learning from me. Maybe someday they will talk amongst themselves and discuss this. Hopefully, long after I'm dead, so I don't have to know. Unless it's really great stuff. Then, I hope they tell me really soon.

As a parent, I need to know I'm doing some things right. I'm far too aware of my own shortcomings most of the time. So, I'm hopeful there are things my own children observe in me that they would choose to emulate.

Since I lost my sweet Dad a little over a year ago, I'm even more aware of how short life actually is and what you leave behind when you're gone. You leave a piece of yourself. You leave who you were to those you loved and who loved you. It makes these moments I'm here with my loved onces all the more precious to me.

This blessing to be alive, to love and be loved is not something to be wasted or ignored. I choose to cherish this opportunity and make my short time on this planet worthwhile. Soon enough, I'll be gone and I want the piece of me I leave behind to be something that will have mattered.

No matter what they remember of me, I know this experience of living and loving my sweet babies will not be wasted. It has changed me in such a way that it has nearly turned my heart inside out since the moment I knew each one would arrive.

But, even these words are cheap. My actions are always going to speak louder than my words in their eyes and everyone else who knows me. But even if no one watches me, I'm going to stick with the sentiment that real integrity is doing the right thing whether or not anyone is ever watching.

What a world it would be, if we could all just remember that. Will you join me?

Reality Check

2010-01-24T02:46:00.008-07:00

It is what it is. We are who we are. We believe what we choose to believe. Period.

-- Laurie Mohlman

This has become my own personal mantra of sorts over the past 3-1/2 years of being a single mom with amazing kids.

For some crazy reason, it took me until I was nearly 43 years old to figure out that our personal power and ability to change the realities around us are limited to what we change within ourselves. That's it. That's all we've got.

I am completely powerless to change any situation beyond what I change in ME. If the situation changes based upon that, then I am a lucky woman indeed. I can change how I view the current challenge, my perception of what's going on behind the scenes, how things may turn out in the end, certainly. That I can do.

Tonight, I happen to be thinking of something very distressing in my personal life, but don't we all pretty much always have at least one distressing thing happening in our lives at any given time? I realize that as soon as the current stress passes, another one or two or twelve will step in to take its place...

Again, Reality Check. It's called LIFE. And IT IS WHAT IT IS.

I'm learning that I am powerless to change anyone else or what they believe about any given situation at any given time. WE ARE WHO WE ARE. WE BELIEVE WHAT WE CHOOSE TO BELIEVE.

For some reason, the more I tell myself this, the less stressful my life becomes. At least the anxiety that could easily make me insane trying to control the planet eases a great deal.

I never considered myself a "control freak" in the past. I have always viewed myself as a fairly mellow chick, rolling with the changes as they came. But, that was before many things in my life fell out of my control. Suddenly, I felt like my personal belief system and reality were going to pieces.

I tried to convince other people in my life to see things MY WAY. I tried to beg people to handle things the WAY I WOULD HANDLE THEM. I saw my well thought-out answers to complex problems as BRILLIANT, and the only way the entire sphere of my influence should approach them.

But, you know-- life doesn't work that way. People typically do not respond well to such arrogance. So, I went from believing that I was a mellow chick who was not trying to keep the planets aligned to being humbled to such an extent as realizing I'm not the smartest person in the universe and I control very little.

Just as I'm accepting that I AM WHO I AM, in the moving words of Popeye the Sailor, in all my glory and weakness, so are other people. WE ARE WHO WE ARE. No matter how much we try to encourage, teach, beg, plead, cry, manipulate, or love other people into who WE THINK THEY SHOULD BE, they simply won't. We change ourselves when we feel the need to make changes, or not at all.

I am recognizing my faulty thinking in so many areas as I walk this world as a single mom who's trying to do what I feel is the very best for my children. I am discovering that I am not able to properly love and care for them if I don't first properly love and care for myself. No one else is going to be here to love me and pick me up. It's up to me to find a way.

So, I have finally learned I need to eat more healthy (in fact, eat at all-- I have lost 60 lbs this year, and not in a healthy, workout type of manner), I need to find a way to rest my mind so I can sleep (I average about 4 hours a night, just from lying in bed worrying), I need to work hard to get bills paid, and I need God.

I am learning that to try and change other people is a huge waste of time and energy. To see them as they are, and accept them for their strengths and shortcomings, without expectation of "improvement" (in my own arrogant opinion) can only improve my view of humanity.

Finally, and this has been the hardest change in me by far, to accept that people BELIEVE WHAT THEY CHOOSE TO BELIEVE-- about me, about politics, about religion, about my mothering style, about the best way to heal the planet... Everyone comes from their own place of thinking, from their own experiences, and this creates their VIEW. It creates their own point of reference. Just as I have mine and you have yours.

I simply do not have the power to change what people choose to believe. They see things how they see them. All I can do is be loving, kind, accepting, and sometimes find a way to be extremely forceful and strong to defend myself and those who are close to me if I feel it necessary.

Now is one of those times.

I have discovered that my view of the world-- that people are basically good, that they mean well, is mostly true. I think most people we encounter are truly this way. But, there are others who are, well, let's just say, NOT SO MUCH. There are those who, from their perspective, are doing the right thing by trying to destroy the souls of other people.

My friends, that has been a great disappointment to me to discover. But, also an opportunity for me to develop and discover strength within myself I did not know I had. You know that story of the mother who could suddenly lift a car off her child who was pinned underneath it? I feel like I am becoming like her. For her, it was pure adrenalin and not thinking about the fact that there was no physical way she'd be able to lift that car. Her focus was purely on her trapped child and how she had to save that precious baby of hers, no matter what it took.

I feel like her now. And because I do, I am becoming a different, stronger woman.

My focus is on facing my own realities, allowing other people to be who they are and believe what they believe, but I will be damned if I let my children, or myself, get crushed in the process.

So tonight, once again, I am facing my own Demons. I am throwing open my closet door to expose the Monsters that lurk there. I'm pulling out the Boogy Man from under the bed. I'm greeting them, saying, "Hey, WELCOME TO MY WORLD. IT'S ON. LET'S DANCE." My gloves are off, and I'm ready to fight.

Through this process of finding my own strength, I am finding myself. I am discovering ME in an entirely new way.

I can look the world and everyone in it straight in the eye and say, IT IS WHAT IT IS. WE ARE WHO WE ARE. WE BELIEVE WHAT WE CHOOSE TO BELIEVE.

But, that doesn't mean you have permission to crush me. You do not have permission to take my soul. You do not have have my personal permission to hurt my children or me, or take up any more precious time in our lives with your hostility or anger.

I am not angry. I'm not bitter. In fact, if anything, I'm more peaceful than I have ever been.

I know exactly why.

I AM WHO I AM. THINGS ARE WHAT THEY ARE. I BELIEVE WHAT I CHOOSE TO BELIEVE.

Now, come on. Let's get on with it. I'm here, ready for you, LET'S DANCE.

Hopefully, one day down the road, the realities of numerous people will be closer to the same vision. I accept that at this time they are not. And that's okay.

But, never mistake in me that I am weak because I have chosen to be a peacemaker. Never mistake in me that I am wrong because I see the world in a different way than you would have me see it.

This is your Reality Check. Take a good look and let's get on with it.

Words From a Loving Parent

2010-01-17T01:56:00.006-07:00

Don't give up It's just the weight of the world
When you're heart's heavy I will lift it for you

Don't give up Because you want to be heard
If silence keeps you I will break it for you

Everybody wants to be understood I CAN HEAR YOU

Everybody wants to be loved
Don't give up
Because YOU ARE LOVED

-- Josh Groban song

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I-G8IfjPAII

(picture by Greg Olsen, one of the finest artists I have ever seen...)

My precious, cherished child--

I watch you as you lay sleeping... Once an infant I held in my arms and rocked through the night. I remember sometimes feeling helpless to fix the pain of teething or the distress of the stomach flu. But, still I rocked you, sang to you, comforted you. And somehow, back then, it was enough.

I remember the nights when you had bad dreams. Those nights when I heard "Mama!" shouted from the other room. I always came running to comfort you, carry you to the rocking chair, sometimes turn on a Disney video to chase those scary monsters and witches out of your still sleepy mind. We would hum along with the happy music, watch the colors on the screen, and soon enough, you would relax into my arms, your breathing would slow, and sleep would once again return to you.

On those nights, sleep rarely returned to me. My heart was so full of love for you and your pain or fear, that even though you were now resting peacefully, I could not. The power of the love of a parent is not enough to protect and save you from all the hurts and pains and fears that were in your life then and the new ones that replace them now.

Tonight, once again, you are peacefully sleeping, but I am not. I can hear your breathing (all three of you actually-- each peacefully sleeping in different rooms). I have checked and re-checked on all of you, tucking you in again and again. No matter that you are now 18, 15 and 13. You are my babies and for a very short time, during this particular time in all of our lives, you are in my safe keeping.

There are times when you are here, on these every other weekend "visits", when I sleep very peacefully as well, knowing you are here, with me, and any nightmare or sad thought can be talked through and comforted away, even though you are growing up so quickly...

The majority of the nights, when you are away from me, I sleep fitfully, if at all. I worry that you are having sad thoughts or worries or nightmares and you can't call for me then. I have yet to discover a sleep aid that will cure those lonely, worry filled nights for me. I just get through them, missing you and praying hours on end that you are okay and that there is happiness where you are.

On those long, lonely nights, I turn to our Heavenly Parent. I know He is the Father of us all and watches over us and sees, feels and hears each thought of our hearts. I know He is all too aware when we are lonely, or happy. Those times when we are homesick or feeling lost. I know He rejoices over the accomplishments we think no one sees but us. I know He sees and He's so happy along with us.

I also know that He feels each pain, no matter how deep we try to keep it hidden from everyone else. He knows each heartache, and is there to help. He knows when we feel like we have made so many mistakes there's no possible way to turn our lives around. Those moments when we take two steps forward and three or four steps back.

I know that WE ARE LOVED. Just as I look at my precious babies this night and love them so completely and fully that my heart can hardly contain it. My tears over the pains of my children must be so small compared to the tears that my loving Father weeps for me and my pains.

Having children allows us the opportunity to better understand the eternal nature of things. To understand that our parents love us, their parents loved them, we love our children, and they will love theirs. That life is an eternal round, of parents loving children, children moving on to have their own and love them as well.

It's also an opportunity, if we will open our hearts to feel it, to know that we are, and always have been, precious, cherished children of a loving God.

It has been a thorn-filled journey for me, this life of parenthood without a companion to share it with. It is not the life I would have chosen for myself, nor was it the life I set out to have. But, it has also been an opportunity to truly turn these lonely and inadequate feelings over to my Father. To trust in Him as my guide and companion as I feebly attempt to give all that is in me to loving my children alone.

As I have made my weak and simple attempts to reach to Him for help and guidance, even when I myself am so far from perfect, He has always been here with me. I have felt His Presence, His Help, His Peace.

You and I are His precious, beloved children, just as we love ours. He understands that we are imperfect and weak, just as we understand that our children are imperfect and weak. When I realize how patient I am with my sweet babies, as they are learning and growing up, figuring things out as they go along, it occurs to me that My Father is so much more so with me.

He truly understands that I am imperfect and weak. He understands that I do my best every day, and many days I fall short of all that I can be. But, I keep getting up and trying again. I could ask no more of my children, on any given day, at any given time.

Through it all, I realize that I AM LOVED. I AM PRECIOUS. I AM CHERISHED, JUST FOR WHO I AM, EXACTLY WHERE I AM TODAY.

Yes, I will continue to improve. But, I don't feel it's a requirement from my Father. He loves me today, warts and all. He loves me so completely that it's a concept I can't begin to comprehend, yet I know it's true. I know this because I feel the same for my children. I have always loved them how they are and for who they are, whether they ever make any great strides towards some outward greatness.

I know their hearts and they are precious.

He knows my heart and I am precious.

My sweet friends,

YOU ARE PRECIOUS.

YOU ARE LOVED.

YOU ARE ENOUGH, TODAY.

No person, or power, or opinion of any other person on this planet will ever make that not be true.

Ever.

Just as my love reaches for my children tonight, you my friends, are also precious to me, and I hope it has reached in some way to you.

Rest easy, my friends...

YOU ARE LOVED.

Dive In!

2010-01-11T09:12:00.005-07:00

The fact is, that to do anything in the world worth doing, we must not stand back shivering and thinking of the cold and danger, but jump in and scramble through as well as we can.

-- Robert Cushing

Why is it that anything really worth doing manages to somehow be TERRIFYING??? Why is that?

To make Big Changes, to Improve our Lives, to Face The Demons, why is it that the really GOOD THINGS that can be accomplished cause us to be so fearful?

I may be speaking only for myself here, of course. Well, yes, I'll admit I am. It's my blog after all. I have noticed in talking to friends and family members lately, that to move forward somehow, to leave unhealthy things behind, we need to have a "good reason", like maybe a New Year's Resolution Moment (which we instantly break) or something tragic has to happen to get us really thinking about our own lives and what we have accomplished.

Why am I writing about this today? Well, tomorrow would be my Dad's Birthday. I know, I have crazy dates and times in my mind that make me think about these things. New Year's Resolutions aren't something I really consider. But, I think about resolutions when it's my birthday, or one of my kids' birthdays, or a holiday, or even my former wedding anniversary. Those are the days that I look back and really reflect on the past years and wonder where I have gotten so far and how far there still is yet to go... And if and how I'm going to get there.

So, in thinking about my Dad (always Daddy to me), I have been reflecting on his life and all he accomplished. I'm also thinking about how much he thought he DIDN'T ACCOMPLISH. My Dad spent the majority of his life fighting a broken body, but he never had a broken spirit. Through a series of major health issues, he was forced to retire at the age of 40. Younger than me.

He was the most upbeat, giving individual I have ever known. He was the most caring, kind, generous person anyone has probably ever known. And he was FUNNY. SERIOUSLY FUNNY.

He had a rock solid sense of humor about life, but especially about the ironies of life. He could laugh about it all, both good and bad. I called him every day, for most of my adult life until he died in August of '08. I guarantee you, on most of those days, my Dad was feeling physically miserable. But, he never let on he was, or if he did he just kind of laughed it off. Often I would call to try to cheer him up or be encouraging and always hung up feeling uplifted and laughing and have a great day after hearing his voice and his amazing laughter. My Dad had numerous laughs, as anyone who remembers him knows. My brother Dave can imitate most of them perfectly.

The hardest thing about my Dad's passing is not being able to talk to him every day. Many, many days I have really needed to run something by him and realize that the next conversation will have to wait for a much longer time than I'd like. But, I do know that many conversations will come again someday.

As usual, I digress.

2010 is guaranteed to be a year of Big Changes for me, one way or the other. Some I have full intention of fulfilling on my own, while others are just flying at me already, like it or not. Of course, that's just like every other year, when you think about it. I plan some things, they work out or veer off in some unknown direction and I follow along or reign it in. Then, there's those things you weren't prepared for, didn't expect, some great, some horrible, and you face them. Go into Survival Mode and get through it.

Most years, I start the year excited for the new changes I have planned and then am thrown some curve balls that I deal with as they come at me. This year is unusual in that the year has started and some unexpected curve balls from 2009 are finally going to be worked out. But, not without a lot of stress and fear on my part, and my childrens' as well. These are not the type of stressors I prefer, of course. I can take a lot of heat upon myself, but I don't like when things start crashing in on my kids.

I like to think of myself as some type of Mommy Force Field that can protect my children from all the negative, painful, evil things in this world. But, of course, I hate to admit, I can't. Try as I might. And believe me, I TRY.

So, just as these challenges are coming my way and I need to dive in, face them head on and get through them, so do my sweet angel children. To try to protect my babies from every painful thing doesn't really protect them at all, unless of course it's a bullet or I need to run through fire to get to them, which I will do until the day the bullet or fire prevents me from protecting them anymore.

Just as my sweet Dad and my Mom still do for me. And I know they will until their last breath.

Trying to shield our kids from the tough things in life doesn't wind up protecting them really, it just makes them weak when they need to face their Own Demons. So, we can walk beside them, hold their hand, give them encouragement, but in the end, pray we have given them enough strength to Slay their Own Dragons. That's the largest accomplishment you can achieve as a parent.

Do you remember that song we used to sing in kindergarten about the Bear Hunt?

Can't go over it...
Can't go under it...
Can't go around it...

Gotta go through it!

That's how this life is. Every good or bad thing that comes our way, we just gotta go through it. We have to dive in, not just stick in a toe and wait until we get used to the cold water... We gotta walk across that bed of hot coals or through the broken glass whether we want to or not.

At some point, we will come out on the other end, sometimes battered, sometimes bruised, but never, ever broken.

I will face My Demons head on this year. I am already getting battered and bruised fighting them.

These challenges of mine can give it their best shot but, my spirit will not be broken. Ever.

Just like Dad.

Hold on Tight While You Let Go

2009-12-26T14:20:00.010-07:00

"Problems do not go away. They must be worked through or else they remain, forever a barrier to the growth and development of the spirit."

M. Scott Peck

So, I got through Christmas 2009. In fact, I got through the entire first decade of this new millennium. Each year shows so much change (and hopefully growth) and new challenges and blessings. But, I'm discovering something. Certain problems rear their ugly heads over and over, no matter how much I think I have overcome them or sidestepped them, or whatever. The truth is, you deal with it, completely deal with it, or it will just keep on coming back.

So, my goal is to grab the bull by the horns and just face some very difficult stuff this coming year. Or, LET IT GO. It's funny really. Sometimes I think I actually have let something go, only to discover it continues to upset me later on. Hence, not dealt with, or actually let go.

Today is December 26th, 2009. The day after Christmas. There should be a special title for this day. You know, we have Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Years Eve, New Years Day, we should have a day named for this after Christmas Day. I guess we could just call it After Christmas Day. That works. Or Huge Letdown Day.

I had a great Christmas with my kids. But, Christmas with your kids when you're divorced tends to bring all of those Ghosts of Christmas's Past out to haunt you. I was surprised when I was checking out the latest of my friends on Facebook on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day and so many of us, divorced or not, felt this elation and sadness at the same time. It's like we're supposed to be hysterically happy when we're actually feeling kind of melancholy. Then, we feel like something is horribly wrong because we're kind of sad when we should be so incredibly happy. Why is that?

I thought maybe it was just me. Thinking, "Here I have my children with me this year to spend Christmas Eve night and Christmas morning with! I didn't have that last year! I should be giddy with happiness... So, why do I feel kind of depressed anyway?"

Ghosts of Christmas's, and Other Days Past. Not dealt with or let go.

We can't get into adulthood without carrying some baggage with us, despite how perfect our life has gone thus far. We all have our demons, we all have our secret pains and private fears.

But, we have the power to overcome anything. ANYTHING. We always have a choice to DEAL WITH IT, then LET GO. It's incredibly empowering to face those demons, acknowledge the secret pains, and plow through the private fears.

To decide to meet them face to face, say,

Hello, Demons. Yes, I see you. Yes, I know you're there. I'm not squeezing my eyes shut and not daring look under the bed or in the closet anymore for fear of seeing you. Let's just sit down here and have a little chat. Could I offer you a cold drink? I realize I have given you a lot of power to haunt me and hiding from you has given you even more power.

But, this hiding business and avoiding you is wearing me out. It's keeping me from moving forward to greater things I can accomplish. So, I appreciate what you have taught me about pain, fear, and denial, but I'm ready to move on. I have new challenges ahead of me and you are getting in my way of conquering them with a new confidence in myself and my abilities to face them in a new, positive way.

So, we're done here. I wish you well as you go on to haunt other people. You do great work. You have haunted me for years. But, not anymore. So, move on. I choose to move on from you. I'm letting you go do whatever you Demons like to do. Just not with me. Good luck with that.

As I let go of those demons, there are things I need to hold tight to. Things that are the positive results of those challenges. Like the fact that I have lived through them without having to check myself into a psychiatric unit. Trust me, that has not been an easy task at times. I have discovered that I actually have willpower to keep myself sane when it's almost impossible.

I have discovered that there can be joy in the journey, despite the pain that is also constantly present. Joy in my children's laughter, joy in driving endless miles with my kids in the car, singing along to our old tape from Disneyland. Watching Harry Potter with my boys after school. Singing in The Messiah at Christmas. Making dinner and watching my kids immediately devour it. Hearing my daughter say, "I love you, Mama. Good night." Observing my daughter take pride in her first real job and being amazed at her ability to save her money to reach important goals for herself. Watching my son reach milestones, like learning how to shave, and going to his first school dance. These are things with Alex, my sweet boy with autism, that I never dreamed I'd see in his lifetime. Seeing Christopher take on junior high with a passion, enjoying having friends who care for him and watch his back for those who wouldn't be so nice.

Discovering that Inner Peace, regardless of the anxiety and distress that exist is truly possible when you share those worries with loving family members, good friends, and most importantly, God. I have also discovered that helping those you love carry their burdens is an enormous blessing.

Peace is possible. No matter what. And that is something that I won't let go, as I bid farewell to the Ghosts and Demons of the Past.

I will hold tight to the light, joy, and peace that is in this world and in my own soul.

My prayer for you, my dear friends, is that you will hold on tight to your peace, joy, and light while you let go of your own demons this year.

IT'S TIME.

Thanksgiving

2009-11-25T00:51:00.004-07:00

"Every area of trouble gives out a ray of hope; and the one unchangeable certainty is that nothing is certain or unchangeable." John F. Kennedy

I am a quote hunter. I love finding quotes that inspire me to think, which tends to inspire me to write. Plus, I'm not going to lie-- JFK is one handsome devil. Seriously. He's a beautiful man, regardless of your political leanings.

It's almost Thanksgiving. My life has taken such crazy turns over the past couple of months that I'm astounded that I'm still standing up straight and not in an actual straight-jacket somewhere. For this reason alone, I'm incredibly thankful. I'm not going to list all the crazy making that has gone on, but I will suffice it to say, this weekend I'm moving to a town 25 miles south to live closer to my amazing brothers and mom, I start a new job in another week after 7 stressful months of unemployment, and I continue to discover who my true friends are through all of this.

Growing up, before we could dive into all of the Thanksgiving Delights laid before us on the table, My Sweet Mom wanted us to say what we were thankful for. Or as we referred to it "The Thankful Game Before We Eat". We, of course, being the deeply serious children we were (NOT) could not appreciate the sentiment My Sweet Mom took at hearing what she hoped would be very profound thoughts out of her darlings' heads. Typically, she got us all groaning and saying stupid stuff like, "Turkey! I'm thankful for Turkey! Let's eat!!!!" Poor Sweet Mom. She really tried with us.

Well, this year, as with each year that passes, I become more clear on all that I have to be thankful for. So as to save my Poor Sweet Brothers my many thoughts on this when they're waiting for turkey on Thursday, I thought I'd lay out some bullet points here on your Friendly Neighborhood Blog.

My Kids. They are wonderful, amazing, unusual, funny, tender, innocent, and all around glorious to me.
Being their Mommy. It is my greatest joy and blessing in life.
Loyal Family. Loyalty isn't a strong enough word to describe them. They have stood by me through it all, and I know that they will forever. They won't let me drown in anxiety, go hungry, become homeless, or ever feel alone. They have known me all my life and still like me. They deserve sainthood, every one of them.
My sisters-in-law. I spent the first 32 years of my life waiting for a sister and finally got 4 amazing women to be my greatest friends, along with their husbands, who are my amazing brothers. Michelle, Leslie, Jessie and Diane-- I love you.
Parents who "laughed their way through raising me". My Sweet Mom actually described it to me in those words today. They literally laughed their way through raising each of us, and we grew up knowing we were loved, but more importantly liked.
Parents who have been my greatest friends, my personal cheer squad in all things, and ready at any and all times to protect me from anyone and everyone who might break my heart.
Facebook, believe it or not. I have rediscovered old friends who have given me a support system in moments when I felt isolated. I have laughed and cried at their joys and sorrows. I have reconnected with my old self through them.
Reconnecting with my spirituality. Remembering that the only One who can truly understand every sorrow and worry is always there, always listening, always ready with a heavenly embrace.
Clarity. This year has brought a great deal in so many aspects of my life, mostly through the painful experiences, so....
The Challenges of this Past Year. I didn't see any of them coming.We never do. But, getting through them, day by day, sometimes only hour by hour, has made me a stronger, better woman.
The good women who have mentored me in the People Helping People program. I plan to someday pay it forward.

Hope. Knowing that each day, each emotional battle being fought is bringing me closer to a result I have dreamed of.
Knowing that the only "unchangeable certainty is nothing is certain or unchangeable."

I am living proof. There is always help and always hope.

In closing, I want to quote the entire Serenity Prayer. We are all familiar with it, as it is the theme for AA and has become well known. I'm not an alcoholic. I don't even drink actually, but I appreciate the sentiment of this prayer and wanted to share.

God grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can;
And wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;

Enjoying one moment at a time;

Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;

Taking, as He did, this sinful world

As it is, not as I would have it;

Trusting that He will make all things right

If I surrender to His Will;

So that I may be reasonably happy in this life

And supremely happy with Him

Forever and ever in the next.

Happy Thanksgiving. -- Laurie

Life, Autumn 2009

2009-09-22T21:39:00.006-06:00

"We could never learn to be brave and patient, if there were only joy in the world."

-- Helen Keller

I haven't written in a few months. Basically, I celebrated Mother's Day, then I "enjoyed" my summer. And what a summer it was. Now that it's autumn, I can finally look back on it all and just be grateful for the good that was had and more grateful for the bad I got through. I won't go into huge detail about that, but I will say, I spent Memorial Day at my Dad's grave for the first time, Father's Day without my dad for the first time, July 4th without my kids, my children got to see their dad remarry, and then before I knew it *KABOOM* school was back in and I saw my youngest start jr. high, my 2nd oldest start high school, and my oldest looking for her first job and tasting her experience with young adulthood. Definitely a whirlwind, to say the least!

I also got to start in a mentoring program sponsored here in Salt Lake City called People Helping People which was created for divorced moms, like myself, who need help figuring out the whole corporate structure and where I may fit into it. What an amazing program! It has turned my eyes outward to all there is to see and accomplish yet in my life and turned my mind inside out from where it was a few months ago. I have been encouraged, instructed, and motivated to take my life to a different place from where it has been for many years. It has been incredibly good for my soul.

I started, and finished, the summer unemployed, which was terrifying. But, also a great opportunity to be with my boys all day on their days off. We didn't "do much", but instead we just hung out a lot. It was great that their favorite thing to do was still have Library Day With Mom and hit McDonald's afterward. I was feeling bad that I couldn't take them to Disneyland or do something really thrilling, when I discovered kids aren't that complicated really. Your time means the most. So, I guess we had the Ultimate Staycation, hitting the Salt Lake County Library at least once a week.

On facebook, I continue to reconnect with old friends. Elementary school, jr. high, high school (in two states) and two colleges. Plus, old neighbors from here and there and all over the place. One of my favorite reconnects was having my friend Kim come stay with me for a couple of days. She lives in Seattle, I live in Salt Lake City. But, she was passing through, and we hadn't had girl hang out time in nearly 15 years. She showed up, the years melted away, we laughed, we cried, I hated to see her go. What was the most amazing was that, in all that time, we had so many common experiences. To be able to share, and realize that NO, we weren't the crazy, bad people we sometimes thought we were for having gone through them, was an enormous blessing, and relief, to me.

I dated a lot. Yes, it's true. I hope no one just passed out from reading that. I'm single. It happens. Discovered you can still feel young and sexy when you're 42. That has been good to realize.

There are blessings all around, even when life is challenging. Life is just going to keep changing, one way or the other. We can like it, hate it, ignore it, deny it. But, it's still going to keep swirling and changing. Wanted to finish this up with something I recently read. Hope you can take something from it, as I have...

Ten Rules for Being Human

-- Cherie Carter-Scott

You will receive a body. You may like it or hate it, but it's yours to keep for the entire period.
You will learn lessons. You are enrolled in a full-time informal school called, "life."
There are no mistakes, only lessons. Growth is a process of trial, error, and experimentation. The "failed" experiments are as much a part of the process as the experiments that ultimately "work."
Lessons are repeated until they are learned. A lesson will be presented to you in various forms until you have learned it. When you have learned it, you can go on to the next lesson.
Learning lessons does not end. There's no part of life that doesn't contain its lessons. If you're alive, that means there are still lessons to be learned.
"There" is no better a place than "here." When your "there" has become a "here", you will simply obtain another "there" that will again look better than "here."
Other people are merely mirrors of you. You cannot love or hate something about another person unless it reflects to you something you love or hate about yourself.
What you make of your life is up to you. You have all the tools and resources you need. What you do with them is up to you. The choice is yours.
Your answers lie within you. The answers to life's questions lie within you. All you need to do is look, listen, and trust.
You will forget all this.

I have to re-read that on occasion to recognize exactly what is happening HERE, when I've got my eyes set BACK THERE, or UP AHEAD. The here and now is what is the most vital. I can't turn around and re-set time, even if I wanted to. I don't actually possess that superpower just yet. I can't do much about future issues, except spend right now preparing myself so that I will be able to handle whatever may come.

To prepare myself, I live the best I can, every day, and forgive myself for being an idiot, which I often am, and forgiving others for when they are as well. I work hard to let go of bitterness for others and myself. No one is served well by my being bitter over what could have gone better, as I would picture it.

I just have to believe that things happen for a reason, and even if it's a lousy reason, there are still lessons to be learned. And as long as I'm breathing, I will keep trying to learn them.

Keep your eyes and hearts open. Your lessons are there to be had too. And I'm cheering for you.

Mom's Special Day

2009-05-09T20:50:00.006-06:00

"If you bungle raising your children, I don't think whatever else you do well matters very much." -- Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis

We’re all connected in life through mothers. Good or bad, we all have one. Some of us are lucky enough to get to become one ourselves. There’s no experience in my life as profound as that of being a mother. It has changed me in every possible way.

We could start with the obvious—PHYSICALLY. I will never, ever look good in a bikini again without some serious plastic surgery intervention. My left hip is messed up from having a kid permanently being carried there for about ten years. My right hip is messed up from having to lie on that side for the last six months of all three pregnancies while on bed-rest during preterm labor. The skin on my stomach was stretched to epic proportions during said three pregnancies. Just like a balloon that was filled too full with air, that never can go back to its teeny, tiny state. I have the stretch marks/war wounds to prove it.

I know women who go back to that teeny, tiny state. I hate them. (If you are one of them, I HATE YOU. Seriously.)

Emotionally and spiritually, I have permanently changed as well. Just like my poor, overstretched body, my heart and spirit will never again be able to shrink back to who I used to be. I was a selfish, silly girl in my teens and early 20’s. I couldn’t see far beyond what was mattering to me at any given moment. Sure, I cared about the world in general. I didn’t like the idea of war. I loved my parents and brothers as much as a daughter and sister could back then. I cared about my friends. I wasn’t crazy about pollution.

From the moment I discovered I had Jessica growing under my heart, I changed forever. Suddenly, everything in my universe was viewed first in its potential to harm her. I remember right after the blue “+” showed up on the EPT pregnancy test, I instinctively folded my arms over my belly to guard her. That became something that I did automatically forever after that.

My children are now 17, 15 and 12. Still, everything that happens in my life is viewed in its potential first, for harming them. If it’s even possible, it’s pretty easy for me to rule it out. One of the hardest things has been knowing there are things I can’t protect them from. No matter how good a Mom I am, I haven’t been able to be on the playground during every recess when some creepy kid decided my kid had something worth making fun of. Hopefully, none of my kids were that creepy kid for one of your kids. (If they were, please let me know. I WILL KILL THEM.)

It’s easier as a parent to hold your children when they have the sniffles or a broken arm than it is to try to figure out how to mend their broken hearts. When Alex was around two, he was sitting in his car seat while we drove along a road in Idaho on vacation. We were heading back to a cabin after a day at Redfish Lake. He started fussing, then screaming, I thought, because he wanted out of his carseat. This wasn’t something new. He hated being in a carseat. So, I did the typical Mom thing. I said, “I know, honey. You hate that stupid carseat. Hang in there. We’ll be at the cabin soon.” But, he wouldn’t stop screaming.

Finally, we pulled over and I went to get him out and give him a break from the dreaded harness. As I pulled him out, a huge bee flew out of the back of the carseat. My heart dropped through the ground. He had a massive welt on his bare back. (It still makes me sick thinking about it now and he’s 15.) Of course, we got back to the cabin, did all the right medical things, but I couldn’t get over the look he gave me when he thought I had ignored his distress. It still haunts me.

This experience, of hurting more or having more joy for the ones you love than for yourself, changes your heart forever. Watching my daughter fearlessly stand up to sing in front of her high school thrills me more than it ever felt when I stood up in front of my high school to sing. In fact, it’s more thrilling to watch her sing with her entire choir than it felt when I stood alone in front of thousands of people and sang myself. Feeling your heart swell like that, it’s almost physically painful.

My boys haven’t been athletes or Boy Scouts. None of my kids have been straight A students, although I think they’re all brilliant. I don’t have a “My kid is on the honor roll” bumper sticker on my car. In fact, I have thought of getting one of those “My kid could kick your honor roll kid’s ass” bumper stickers for my van. (No reason. I just think they’re funny. Actually, I’m guessing Chris could. But, I digress.)

The prayers I have prayed on behalf of my children are more heart-felt and desperate than they have ever been for me, in my worst of circumstances. Whether it’s a bad stomach ache or heartache for one of my babies, I can hardly bear to see them hurt in any way. Knowing that I contributed somehow to their struggles since our divorce nearly kills me some nights when I’m trying to find elusive sleep. The only thing that keeps me sane in those moments is knowing that they were loved more and better than I ever could long before they grew under my heart. The faith I have in my loving Father in Heaven saves me during those moments.

My spirit has been stretched to its limits mothering these three precious ones. I think that’s the way it’s supposed to be. How could we ever start to comprehend the love of our God and His desire for our happiness without our hearts being pulled in this way? Realizing these priceless ones were precious to Him before me and will be long after give me my greatest hope. Knowing this is true helps me realize that I’m His precious child as well. I was long before my parents loved me and will be long after.

When I struggle, I know my sweet Mom is praying for me. I can only start to understand how much she loves me because of how much I love my sweet ones. Personally, I don’t think I’m worthy of the love and belief she has in me. But, Mothers are a special breed. They believe in us for reasons known only in the depth of their hearts. The Circle of Life is the blessing that makes this all make sort of sense eventually.

This little blog isn’t much in the great scheme of things. My life isn’t much in the history of the universe. I don’t write thinking that it’s going to change anyone or leave some great imprint that I lived. These things I know, however.

MOTHERS MATTER.

MOTHERS CHANGE THE WORLD EVERY SINGLE HOUR OF EVERY SINGLE DAY.

I believe if we mothers of this world do our job right, the world will go right. The day mothers stop trying, the world will go to pieces. I am confident the world will never completely fall apart because there are mothers out there that will never stop loving and encouraging their children.

As a special note to my own Mom—I love you, Tamara Wagner Mohlman. You bless me every single day because you exist and love and believe in me. I know I will succeed because you truly believe I will. I can never fully give up because you won’t give up on me. Ever.

I feel especially blessed this Mother’s Day because you are still on this planet with me. I’m only too aware that this won’t always be the case, so every day we are still here together I’m incredibly grateful.

Happy Mother’s Day. Times 5 kids, 17 grandkids, one dogger, and 3 grand-doggers. Your life will continue to provide ripples of greatness long after you have lived and breathed. Your influence can never possibly end because you love us all so dearly.

Enjoy your special day, Moms. Your seemingly thankless work is changing the world.

One child at a time.

It Must Be Monday

2009-05-04T12:24:00.003-06:00

Today, I found out that the girl I've been dating online for over a year is actually a very bored 14 year old boy.

Today, I was with my kids. We saw a tiny little bug and they started freaking out. Trying to show them that bugs are not scary, I picked it up. It bit me and now I have to go to the doctor because my hand is the size of a balloon.

Today, it was my boyfriend's 21st birthday. Along with a pair of $80 shoes, I bought him a birthday cake, his favorite ice cream and a $15 balloon. I showed up to the party and he was very intoxicated. So intoxicated that he pops the balloon, drops the cake, and throws up all over his new shoes.

Today, I walked into a restaurant with my parents to celebrate my Mom's birthday. They immediately got a kid's menu and crayons out for me. I'm 15.

Today, I went to the dentist. After drilling my teeth for what seemed like hours, he gave me a long speech about how if I continue to smoke, the yellowing of my teeth won't be the only problem. I don't smoke. I never have. FML

-- www.fmylife.com

My daughter and I were sitting together last night in the living room, catching up on the overextended Tivo. She was checking her email when she announced, "Mom! I have found a new website that I guarantee will start being YOUR FAVORITE site!!" What could it be, I thought? A new site on the stresses of single mothers? A new job site for me to crank out more resumes? A site that will make keeping my house spotless an actual possibility? NOOOOO.

The new, my soon to be "favorite" site is called : www.fmylife.com. Yes, as in F my life dot com. (Yes, the F stands for exactly what you think it does.) Someone got it in their head that there should be a place for everyone to have the opportunity to spell out why their life is completely screwed up. It's completely hilarious. And, yes, I think it may very well be my new all time favorite web site. Here's why.

I'm not laughing at the horrible things that can happen in an individual's day. (Well, okay, I just very well might be, I'm not going to lie...) It's more of an "I'd rather laugh about it than cry about it" thing that my Dad taught me when I was still a short, fairly happy creature. My dad could take any horrible event in his own life and laugh about it. Just the ridiculous irony of life itself was hilarious to him at any given time of day. I loved this about him. I could go to him with anything, ANYTHING, from getting a lousy grade to having my marriage fall apart, and he'd find a reason that we could laugh. It definitely took the sting out of the general horrible-ness that life can sometimes be.

He also helped me understand that you can ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS find a good reason to complain if you look hard enough. On the flip side, you can always be happy too, no matter what hellish experience you're currently going through. When I get together with my brothers and their families, there's always a lot of laughing going on. All of us struggle. No one's life is perfect. None are even close. But, there's something amazing about getting together, because we can tell our latest horror stories (losing a job, being sick, missing our dad) and we'll basically mock those things to death. We're all fairly sarcastic by nature, but we're also pretty sensitive people. Laughing at stuff is the only way we can move forward in life without getting suicidal or something.

Hearing or reading the horrible events from other people's lives can quickly put our own life back into some type of perspective. My life isn't the biggest event on the planet and neither is yours. We're all here doing the best we can, living day in and day out. We love our families, work hard, and pay our bills. The economy is particularly rough right now, and I lost my job last week. It can be terrifying when I can't see clearly where this month's rent is going to come from, not to mention next month's. Seeing as today is the 4th of the month and I haven't figured it out yet, I'm pretty stressed. But, I have my health. I have my kids. I have friends. I'm nowhere near living the life Job lived. And neither are you.

So, lighten up. Today is a new day. It's finally spring. You have a family who loves you and friends who do too. You have someone in your life to love today. You have a place to live and things to accomplish.

Remember, Life is always worth living as long as we're living. If you're not dead yet, there's still work to be done, hugs to give, and smiles to share. Let's get out there and DO IT. TODAY.

Have a good week, my friends.

Dreams Come True to Alex

2009-04-10T15:53:00.004-06:00

I thought it might be interesting to ask Alex what he thought it was like to have autism. How do you explain what is only normal to you? How do any of really understand what is normal to someone else?

Anyway, I told Alex I wanted to write about him today and he gave me his chosen title. I had originally chosen "The World According to Alex", but he wanted to have it called "Dreams Come True to Alex". So, here we go!

Me: Alex, what do you think is different about having autism?

Alex: My brain works different.

Me: How is your brain different from my brain?

Alex: It's just not like yours.

Me: You know how you can think in colors sometimes? Like "red" is "angry"?

Alex: And "green" is "sick!" And also "yellow" is "glad", and "blue" is "sad".

Me: Wow, I didn't know that green was sick. That's a new color for me!

Alex: And "gray" is "scared".

Me: Really??

Alex: Yeah, really.

Me: I have another question for you. Since it's almost Easter, where does the Easter Bunny live?

Alex: In a tree?

Me: Hmmm... It could be a tree.

Alex: Lots of rabbits live under trees.

Me: I'll bet you're right. So, what is the Easter Bunny's job?

Alex: To give us gifts and hide eggs so we can do Easter egg hunting, and also candy hunting too.

Me: Yeah, that's a busy bunny, isn't it?

Alex: Yes siree!

Me: I have another question for you.

Alex: Now what?? [glad that sarcasm hasn't been lost in the genetics!]

Me: What's your favorite movie of the day?

Alex: I don't have a favorite. I like all of them.

Me: What about "The Nightmare Before Christmas"? Don't you love that one?

Alex: That's my favorite HALLOWEEN MOVIE.

Me: Oh, okay. So, what dreams can come true for you, Alex?

Alex: Like going to Disneyland in California, Disney World in Florida, and go on a Disney Cruise.

Me: You love Disney stuff, don't you?

Alex: Yep.

Me: Those are good dreams, Al Pal. What are some bad dreams of yours?

Alex: Like being attacked by a lion, tiger, bear, or attacked by a shark, or being chased by a watchdog, or falling in a videogame and getting a "game over".

Me: Oh. Those are bad dreams. I like the good dreams better. How about you? What do you dream you will be when you are a grown up?

Alex: A superhero. I have four jobs. Superhero, photographer, pizza deliverer, and restaurant worker.

Me: Hmmmm... that sounds like a superhero I know....

Alex: I know, Mom-a-Mom! Spiderman! But, I have a different superhero name, but I still have spider powers. And I have a different spider costume too. But, it looks different. The eyes are red, the gloves are red, and shoes are red, and mask and shirt and trousers are black. And I have a gray spider on my chest and a red spider on my back like Spiderman's, and I have a red mark on my belly like a black widow spider does.

Me: So, what superhero are you going to be?

Alex: Black Widow Spiderman.

Me: Cool. You have been planning on that forever and ever, haven't you?

Alex: Yes. That's who I want to be.

I thought those of you out there who feel like I have a super hard life having two sons with diagnoses that falls upon the autism spectrum should just read for yourself.

I honestly think my life is charmed being able to raise such interesting kids. Next time we will hear from Chris. He has different dreams for himself.

We all have dreams for our lives, no matter where we started. If you want to have something that will make you think the rest of your life, ask your kids what their dreams are...

Make New Friends, But Keep the Old

2009-04-09T14:55:00.006-06:00

Make new friends,
but keep the old.
One is silver,
the other is gold.

A circle is round,
it has no end.
That's how long,
I will be your friend.

A fire burns bright,
it warms the heart.
We've been friends,
from the very start.

You have one hand,
I have the other.
Put them together,
We have each other.

Silver is precious,
Gold is too.
I am precious,
and so are you.

You help me,
and I'll help you
and together
we will see it through.

Across the land
Across the sea
Friends forever
We will always be

This song was running through my head today. Not an unusual occurrence by a long shot. Wearing an IPOD all day keeps a constant soundtrack going on, which I love, and it keeps the obnoxious songs that occasionally run through my head away. I mean, if I'm going to have music running through my head all the time, I'd rather choose it than be stuck with a Barney song instead, you know?

Anyway, I was thinking about how friends come and go in my life, kind of like osmosis. You know, one flows in, one flows out. Some are here for awhile, others are here for a lifetime. You never really know how it's going to go. Facebook has been an interesting experience for me. Suddenly there's an internet site that allows you to connect possibly with every person you have ever met in your entire life. Some of those people are very memorable, others not so much. However, I have discovered that I AM MEMORABLE. Wow. Who knew??? Certainly not me!

To date I have been able to reconnect with 342 friends and family members. 342 people! And, seriously, I know every one of them. How crazy is that??? I mean, it never even occurred to me that I had MET that many people in my life, let alone KNEW that many! I find the whole situation kind of astounding and just a little bit unnerving as well.

It seems like with life being the way that it is, things are constantly in flux. Things are always changing. Circumstances, jobs, relationships all are changing, changing, changing... And because of that, more and more people get drawn into my personal circle one way or the other. Currently, I'm in a fast and furious job hunt since my current position has a contract expiration date of 4/16/09. Yes, that's just one week from today. So, I'm job hunting, shooting out resumes, going through interviews and through it all I get the opportunity to meet more people, learn something from them, even if I only know them for a few minutes.

I also am ridiculously hopeful that I may make new guy friends online. I actually, through trial and error, have found a pretty good website for this. Through trial and lots of error, I have also discovered how to pick out the "scary" guys in a fairly short amount of time. I won't tell you about the trial and error of that whole nightmare-- just that it was a LOT OF TRIAL, and a WHOLE LOT OF ERROR.

I have learned (again from trial and error) that there's nothing worse you can do for a potential relationship than to immediately hit it off, get physical, and then, you know, sit back and "see what happens". I'll tell you what "happens": you stop liking each other fairly fast and have to just move on and find someone else to experience the "see what happens" game again.

The good thing about all of this, I suppose, is that I don't have to wait and hope for the best anymore. I have learned that my parents and teachers from church were RIGHT. Man, there's just nothing worse than realizing that, I have to tell you! Mom, you may officially begin GLOATING. READY, SET, GLOAT. Teachers from church, you too. Go ahead. You were right. All of you. I hope you all are receiving some sort of thrill from hearing this from me, after years of putting up with my perfected eyeroll technique and heavy sighing that I used to imply you all did not know what you were talking about. I'm looking forward to the day when I daughter tells me I was right, because I'm mid-eyeroll tolerance with her at this point as well.

The only way to actually have a successful relationship is to start as friends, really get to know a person, and then see where things go. The immediately jump in with both feet method has not been a particularly successful experiment for me. Unfortunately, because I honestly prefer that method. You know, you look into each other's eyes-- it's all new and exciting... You get that POW!POW!POW! in the gut, and well, you just KNOW. Oh yeah, he's IT. We have finally found each other! Life from here on out will be perfectly perfect, in every possible way, because of this amazing MOMENT.

Sorry to burst everyone's dreamy bubble (including my own), but that just doesn't ever work in real life, where I'm stuck living at this point. Friendships beget good relationships, because when you actually take the time to get to know someone before losing your mind completely, you have a better chance of ruling out the losers before the fact, rather than after. I can't tell you how many times I have dove in, thinking, "Oh man! This is THE guy! He's so amazing!", finding some huge amount of romance in the whole deal, only to discover that NO.... He's really not that great, he's not even close to being THE GUY. He's just A GUY. Maybe a great guy at that, but not THE GUY. Nope, never THE GUY.

I was fascinated last night to hear a true story about a couple who met and married within 3-1/2 weeks. Yep, as in about 24 days from meeting to married. Am I the only person who thinks that might be just INSANE???? Okay, I see the potential romantic angle and all, but come on! Don't you think if someone is amazing and incredibly lovable within 3-1/2 weeks that they will still be in 3-1/2 years???? That to me would be plain common sense, but in the world of romantic notions, common sense is not a necessarily welcome guest. Not even to me.

So, I have flown off on a tear apparently today. I guess my final thought would be this... I'm glad, despite the crappy circumstances of the past few years, to have the opportunity to make new friends. Especially guy friends. When I was married, I really missed having my guy friends around. I grew up in a house full of boys. I am crazy about my guy friends.

I love all of you, my sweet guy friends, wherever you may be today. You make my life richer for knowing you. You help make this twisted, weird time of my life bearable because you make me laugh and cure some of the crazy loneliness. You keep me company talking to me on the phone all night while I'm missing my kids and you're missing yours.

Of course, my dearest of guy friends are my four most amazing brothers. Dudes, please know you are loved and nearly worshipped by me. You love my children as your own. You check in to make sure I'm alive, eating and not homeless. You offer to help me however you can, while still being the best husbands and fathers that exist on the planet. I'm so proud of you, Dave, Andy, Jon and Tim.

You give me hope to keep searching for the ellusive perfect guy for me, because of who you are. I'm so blessed to be your sister and your friend. I will never lose hope in men because of you. In fact, there's exactly 0% chance that I will become some sort of man-hater in this lifetime because I have you in my life. I know that men are good, amazing creatures because I have observed and spent my entire life knowing you. And of course, the most perfect of all, our sweet Sexy Rexy, who's busy planning a huge party for all of us. It probably involves loud music, streamers and fondue, if I know Daddy like I think I do. And probably that Christmas Eve game that involved fighting over M&M's and cash.

And you, Mom. You are a friend above and beyond all friends on this earth to your kids, grandkids, and every person who crosses your path. You have taught me the heights and depths of friendship watching the sacrifices you have made to be a friend and keep a friend. Your heart is bottomless. You always have more to give. You always seek how you can lift another's burden, whether that person is family or not. In fact, I have learned from you that FRIENDS ARE FAMILY. Every single one. And there's always always room for one or a hundred more at the table.

Make new friends, but keep the old-- one is silver and the other gold. My prayer this day is that I bring to the table something that lifts the burdens of my sweet friends. I hope I bring laughter and smiles and a safe place to cry if you need to. I hope that I express to you, often, how very precious you are to me and the depth you give my life, which would be horribly challenging without you here.

I hope I hug you often and tell you I love you as much as you need to hear it. I hope you know that as precious as you are to me, you are so much more precious to God. His love is not dependent on how good or bad we are. It doesn't even matter if we choose to believe He exists or love Him back. His love is a gift, and He considers us friends.

I hope someday to be able to love like that. For now, I'll keep practicing.

If You Know One of Us, You Know Us All

2008-12-31T00:34:00.004-07:00

I grew up in a very unusual family. Just ask us. Haha. No really, I have been extremely blessed to have such amazing brothers, and outstanding parents. It's incredible to have such wonderful memories of growing up. I have to constantly fight my nostalgia. I think we all are very sentimental, as a group. So, my parents obviously did a lot more things right than wrong.

As wonderful as that is, it tends to create a lot of pressure in my head to provide my kids with the same kind of Potential Nostalgia and Sentimentality for their future adult selves. I mean, how on earth am I supposed to accomplish that???? You just keep getting up, day after day, and do what you do. Hope for the best. Hope it's enough.

I feel like I spend the bulk of my time at home throwing laundry in the hamper, the washer, the dryer, a basket for folding; planning dinner, shopping for dinner, making dinner, cleaning up after dinner; getting kids to bed, waking them up, taking them to school, picking them up from school; hassling them about homework and making sure they don't leave for school the next day without it. Sound familiar?

During all of this busy craziness that happens at home when they're not at school and I'm not at work, I find myself grabbing those small *glimmer* moments with them when the planets seem to align and we are able to create an amazing memory. The problem is, as I see it, that you simply cannot plan QUALITY TIME. The whole idea behind QUALITY TIME is pure myth. Back in the 80's, when I was in high school and college, there was this term "QUALITY TIME". This meant that even if you're gone 60 or 70 hours a week working, if you planned things just right, you'd be able to have only Good and Memory Making Moments with your kids because you'd have to wrap it all up in a shorter amount of hours than a stay at home parent.

Well, my friends, I tell you, that's CRAP, pure and simple. And I say that as a working Mom. I stayed home with my kids full time for 15 years and I could not have set aside that Quality Time if I was the most organized person on the planet (and believe me, I'm NOT). Quality Time stems from Quantity Time. You have to be there, and be present, and those moments kind of fall in your lap when you're not looking. And then you look back and think, "Oh man, am I glad I was paying attention right then!"

My parents seemed to have a sixth sense about how to do this. They made our home a pretty good hang-out joint where our friends were always welcome. We had people tromping in and out of there all hours of the day and night, and my parents seemed to genuinely like everyone that was around. They were friendly and open to talking with anyone who was there. They weren't the "Cool Parents", the "Hip Adults". They were just themselves, with their great senses of humor and caring for anyone who fell under their wings, even for a few minutes. And were definitely a Mom and a Dad, to anyone and everyone.

They didn't get overly excitable about the noise of teenagers, or little kids, whether it was MTV turned up way too loud, our weekly "Holy Grail" movie parties, or kids running in to grab snacks on their way to ride bikes for a few more hours. My parents must have had astronomical grocery bills. I assume this because I cannot, for the life of me, keep food in my fridge for more than a few minutes, with three kids who are all already taller than me. They just keep eating, and their legs just keep getting longer. It's a little troubling to have your 17, 14 and 12 year olds looking down on you!

Anyway, my parents seemed to like having our friends around, and because we were fairly close in age, we all wound up knowing all of everyone else's friends. My daughter, who's a senior in high school and a very dedicated big sister, has had an unwritten, unspoken rule since she was a little girl. IF YOU DON'T LIKE MY BROTHERS, IF YOU'RE NOT COOL TO THEM, WE'RE NOT FRIENDS. She brings new "potential" friends through the apartment, kind of runs them by the boys, and she observes. I have watched her do this for years. I doubt these kids she brings in have any idea the massive hoop they are being demanded to jump through. I have always found it a touching thing about Jessie. She loves her brothers, and no one is going to make fun of them or be rude. It's a requirement, because she treats them like gold. She genuinely LIKES THEM, and they are her friends first, brothers second.

My brothers and I were always the very same way. We were friends first, siblings second. And if you knew one of us, you knew all of us. The people we liked, we "shared" with the family. So, we have all been making our profiles on Facebook (which is a story for another day all on its own...), but I find myself, every time I find a new friend, sending that person to everyone else in my family, because I know that if I knew them, so did my brothers and my parents. Our friendships overlap completely.

In college, my older brother and two of my younger brothers and I were in the same groups of friends as well. And my Mom worked on campus, so she knew our friends there yet again, although we didn't always live at home. I found myself, almost daily, at least at some point during lunch or between classes, walking over to my Mom's campus office with someone in tow. So did my brothers. Or we'd go over together.

It's an unusual thing to say that your best friends in the world are your brothers and your parents. When people hear this about us they either look perplexed or suspicious. But, to me, it's the most natural thing in the world. These are the people who were there at the very beginning of my existence, and will be there at the end. These are the people who love my kids as much as me. These are not Fair Weather Friends, not by any stretch of the imagination.

They are my Family. They are my support system. They are the people I want to share my joys with first, before anyone else, and the ones that I know I can cry to without a lot of explanation, and I will be wrapped up in their concern. I know I'm in their prayers constantly, and they know they are in mine.

My parents somehow instilled in us the understanding that your family are your original friends, the only people who will be with you, regardless of the changes that come along in schooling, social status, employment, kids, sickness, health, whatever. And we all GOT IT.

So, I live a life of intense nostalgia and sentimentality. But, I also live a life that's incredibly rich because of these amazing people who have taken the entire journey with me, thus far.

We have grieved with one another these past few months since we lost our Dad-- Sexy Rexy, the Christmas King. The grief is overwhelming at times, because he was a major part of our lives, in the Dad sense, but mostly in the friendship sense. He has been torn from the group and we'll never be the same until we're all reunited as we should be. But, through this grief, at least for me, is a sense of pure gratitude. Gratitude to have grown up in such an environment that we were able to build these memories and friendships that permeate every part of my every day, good and bad.

And to have the memories continue to build, with an entirely new generation of people, as we each bring our kids into the mix.

I'm blessed. Much more than I deserve to be. I'm proud to be part of this family that has always been happy to bring more and more into it's circle. The inner sanctum will never be too crowded for one, or a thousand more.

Extraordinary.

My Hero

2008-05-31T18:35:00.009-06:00

In honor of Father's Day, which is in a couple of weeks-- I thought I would write a little bit about My Dad. I still call him Daddy, even though I'm 41 years old, and I'm pretty sure he still likes that.

There's something about Fathers and Daughters... My brothers and I have discussed this lately, as one of my younger brothers now has two daughters, one headed for high school, and now a little one-- a preschool age girl. Both of those beauties have my brother wrapped up in a knot. It's adorable and amazing all at once, seeing my brother just melt when they are near, or he can hear them, or he talks about them.

My older brother just got married and as an bonus wedding gift, was able to receive four amazing kids in the deal. I have never seen him so happy. Two are boys, two are girls, and once again, these girls have him wrapped up in knots, he loves them so much. He shows such genuine tender concern for his wife, and his girls. It's a true wonder to see your brothers go from being "THE BROTHERS/UNCLES" as they were for so many years, to these tender hearted fathers.

Don't misunderstand, Mothers and Sons have the same type of thing going on. I don't know how God set that whole thing up, but I do know that there's something about raising your opposite, if you know what I mean. It brings out an entirely new level of patience and compassion that you never knew you had.

My Dad is an interesting person. He has charisma, genius level intellect, wit, a crazy sense of humor, and is generally jovial to be around. When I'm talking to My Dad, which is often, as in every couple of days, we always find something to have a good laugh, or ten, over.

Some of my favorite memories as a kid involve hanging out at the church on Saturday all day, working on the latest church musical. My Dad has a great natural musical ability-- from singing (which he is great at), to playing guitar, to basically being able to pick up most instruments and figure them out before too long. So, he was always the male lead in whatever the show was. I loved watching My Dad up on stage, doing his music thang.

I spent the majority of my hours in jr. high, high school, college, and then adult life, at one music rehearsal or another. I think those times feel so wonderful and comfortable to me, because they remind me of the joy I felt as a child with my dad.

These early experiences, seeing my Dad as the star of the show (at least in my eyes), laughing with all the folks in rehearsal, working hard when he had to-- I got to know him as more than the Dad who worked lots of hours, travelled quite a bit for work (I remember so often saying, My Dad is in Alaska), I found this very funny, witty guy who could laugh and enjoy anyone, just anyone. And everyone who encountered him went away with a laugh.

My Dad's early life was not easy. As in NOT EASY. When he was a little boy, young elementary school, tee ball age, he developed a freak illness-- Tuberculosis in his Bone. If you think about tuberculosis, you think about coughing up blood, having your lungs get all messed up, right? So, to discover the tuberculosis bacteria in his leg-- his knee in particular, well that was just a freak thing.

He developed serious pain in his right leg. What a horrible experience for a little boy! He was used to riding his bike, running, jumping, playing ball-- all the normal things boys do. When the pain became serious, my grandparents took him to a number of doctors to try to find a way to relieve this pain and discover what was causing it.

As this was the early 1940's and technology wasn't the greatest, the first plan of action was to simply saw his leg off above his knee. That's right, just saw it off. Well, of course, my grandparents didn't go for this plan. They were determined to find a way to not create a lifelong disability for their boy. Finally, they found a doctor who seemed to understand the issue, and was willing to try a new, experiemental procedure, which would allow my dad to keep his leg. They would surgically go into his bone, remove the diseased tissue, which included his full right knee cap, then fuse the bones that were left over together. So, for most of my dad's life, he has functioned without a right kneecap.

To me, it's just normal dad, walking around with one "stiff leg". It has never been a big deal, because he never made it one. It's just Daddy, just how he walks. It wasn't until I was in high school, that a friend asked, "Hey, is your dad HANDICAPPED?" Um, wow. I had to think about it, honestly. Dad, handicapped? I don't think so. He's just DAD. But, then I thought, oh the whole leg deal, well okay, I guess I could see it from an outsider's point of view... I remember after that question actually asking my dad if he was handicapped. Again, he kind of had to think about it for a minute... Hmmm, am I HANDICAPPED? I don't think so. But, yes, he could see it from those on the outside looking in.

Isn't that funny? It wasn't until my teens, and only when someone actually asked me, that it occurred to me that my dad may not be like other dads.

My dad did all the things the doctors had told his parents as a kid that he would ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY NEVER BE ABLE TO DO AGAIN. Things such as riding a bike. It's no easy feat, I'm sure, to ride a bike with one leg that can't pedal all the way around. But, it didn't stop my dad. I remember him riding a bike when we were kids-- he'd pedal almost all the way around with one leg, kind of catch it at the bottom with his other leg, then grab on with the left leg again.

He played softball in the church league. You'd think someone with a constant limp would not be running the bases, but I distinctly remembering him playing in a game, smashing the ball with the bat, and then running/limping into first base, laughing all the way.

Of course, they said he'd never be able to WALK. Well, as you can imagine, he rebelled against that idea as well. He has walked, as much as everyone else, hiking a long camping trail with me a few years ago, and taking a four mile walk around a lake one summer. He was no different than anyone else's dad to me. He did "normal stuff". The idea of Handicapped was foreign to my thinking regarding my dad. He made a lifetime out of not having that label put on him. Not ever.
When I got into junior high, he took a serious fall at work. He worked in a building with a lovely, marble staircase. Instead of taking the elevator, he always took the the stairs like everyone else. But, one day, his feet caught under him, and he fell down, smashing his back on the way. This began many years of serious disability for my dad.

After all those years of doing all the things that other people did, he started a series of back surgeries, kind of patch up jobs, fixing all sorts of issues that had developed before the fall, and were much worse after. My dad received a medical retirement when I was all of 12 years old. It wasn't a fun time for him-- he was in constant, chronic, debilitating pain, which left him disabled much of the time. But, he still did his best not to miss little league games, my singing performances, choir concerts, and various miscellaneous things that five kids are involved in. He coached my little brother's basketball team. He taught seminary when my brother and I were in high school.

As I look back, much of that time, he must have been nearly paralyzed with pain. I don't know how he got up and did anything back then. In fact, I'm not sure why he didn't just lay down and die, as I think back. But, through it all, my dad was still my dad. He still was up for a laugh, any chance he got, loved to chat, so I had a great time just talking with him when I was in junior high and high school. I was blessed to have him home to talk to, and get to know in a way that most kids don't know their dads.

One night, a Pink Panther-Peter Sellers movie came on. I had never watched one, and my dad just went nuts! "We have to watch this! It's so hilarious!", he said. So, he and I stayed up late that night laughing ourselves sick watching that movie. It's one of my all time favorite memories. I can remember my dad, tears rolling down his cheeks trying to catch his breath, at every crazy move that Peter Sellers did.

I had children years before any of my brothers were even married. My dad quickly became "Papa", a nickname given to him by BabyGirl Jessica. He has loved being Jessie, Alex and Chris's Papa. I think the other grandkids call him Grandpa, but not my kids. The nickname definitely stuck.

Over the years, as he has gotten older, which of course he and I will always deny-- (Who's getting older??? I'm not getting older!!!!) he has become more and more debilitated by an endless list of physical ailments. It's pretty much constant for him. The days that he's healthy and feels good enough to do stuff are definitely days he lives as fully as he can, because they are the exception, not the rule.

A few years ago, before my divorce, we did a final family fling to Disneyland. My kids love Disneyland. My dad and his wife Susan were able to travel along with us for that few days. As a kid, we didn't take vacations-- we went to visit family, mostly in Utah, but we never went to theme parks. My did just wasn't able to physically do it. I don't think we felt ripped off over it, it's just how things were. But, at the ripe old age of 65, my dad finally got to experience Disneyland!

He sat at the foot of every ride, taking tons of pictures, smiling ear to ear watching the kids ride Dumbo, or whatever else they did. I tried a bunch of times to get my dad on a ride with us, but he just wanted to watch the kids do their thing. That for him, was the greatest gift of all. We did get him on a few rides though, and he experienced it just as a kid does the first time-- with wonder at what Walt Disney created-- a place where childhood is celebrated, and you don't have to be a grown up anywhere when you are on that property. Seriously, the commercials don't lie!

We were rushing our last night for seats to see Fantasmic, and my dad and I got separated. As we rounded a corner near the show seats, I saw this massive sobrero, with Mickey Ears, of course-- and I'm just laughing my head off looking at this complete idiot in the distance who would lower himself to a Mickey Mouse SOMBRERO!!, (Come on, Disney! Have you no shame???), but as I got closer, trying to pass this clown with no pride, I discover that, Yes, in fact, it is my Dad wearing this ridiculous sombrero, laying on the horn of his electric wheelchair to get good seats to the show.

It was, as we kids call it, a CLASSIC DAD MOMENT. Around us, he never could pull off being a serious adult very well. Every so often he did something so ridiculous, with no fear of disclosing that he was actually just a very large kid, that it caught us by surprise, and became one in a million of our favorite memories of him.

He was seated in VIP seating when he pulled up in the wheelchair. They brought him and his wife clear to the very front row. The show was magic, as everything at Disneyland is (my personal opinion), and when we connected again, his eyes were all lit up, sparkling, and he was laughing at how amazing it all had been. I truly saw that child in him, that had never been able to visit Disneyland as a kid, or even take his own kids there. This experience to him was incredible, and my memories of his wonder are priceless.

Now that I'm a quasi-adult with children of my own, I look back at my parents with much different eyes... I see things how they must have seen them, trying to give their children the absolute best they could. I can't imagine what their struggles were, having five kids, a disabled dad, and a very hard working Mom trying to hold it all together. They did the same things you and I do now, we work hard, do all we can for our kids, and never complain a second about it, because they are our kids... The wonderful ones that grew under and in our hearts.

Through all the years of my dad's disabled condition he has never, ever complained in my presence. I will see him when we get together for holidays, or birthdays, and I will be able to tell that he is struggling to simply walk around, get up stairs, try to keep up with what's going on... It worries my heart for him. But, knowing my Dad as I do, there's nothing that would please him LESS, than to know that I worry about him, for even a minute.

He keeps his pains and struggles to himself. When he is with us, he smiles, laughs, genuinely enjoys seeing our children growing up. He is 69 years old. For the physical ailments he suffers, as well as his family tree of not making it to 60, every day he is here is a gift. His baby brother died suddenly at the age of 50. Most of his uncles didn't make it much longer than that. Truly, I adore him, and feel extremely blessed to be his daughter.

In his aging and more disabled self, he is still absolutely my Daddy. I still love to talk to him-- he makes me laugh, we discuss things that interest us, our conversations turn tender, as I express my deep love for him. He always answers the phone with a voice that is enthusiastic and surprised that I'm calling, although I do often.

I have spoken to him a few times, in our tender moments, about my extreme grief even imagining the day he won't be here to talk to and laugh with. I simply don't know how I will live the rest of my life without my dad around. I know it's a day that will come far too soon, and I will have to get up the next day and the next, not being able to call him when I want to, not being able to laugh and share him with my children, as I share my children with him.

He has said to me, in conversations past, how he wishes he would have simply ACCOMPLISHED SOMETHING. He feels his time here on this earth has been wasted because of these ailments he has suffered with every day of his life. It's the only time I hear him complain. He wishes that despite the ailments, never wishing them away as I surely would, that he could have DONE MORE, BEEN MORE, EXPERIENCED MORE, PROVIDED MORE FOR US.

What he doesn't seem to understand though is this-- who he is, what he has achieved as a father and grandfather, the man he has become as he has faced the refiner's fire time and time and time again, is so much MORE THAN ENOUGH. I weep as I write these words, because he is such a tender, blessed part of my life. He didn't have to be a millionaire, or famous attorney like he wishes he had been, to be someone remarkable. To have existed, and faced each and every challenge with hope, with a smile for his kids ensuring us that it's "nothing, don't worry about it", he has set such an amazing example and created his very own legacy that will live on, long after he has.

I carry him with me in my heart, every day, when I am facing the pains in my life, knowing that for my children, and others around me, I will not complain. I will smile, joke, get through it. When I am alone at night, when no one can hear or see me, then I cry. Then I feel sorry for myself. And maybe that's what he does too. But, he has made it his business to make sure worrying about him is not our business.

I admire this man, who I believe wills himself to stay alive each day, because he's not ready to give up this life full of his children and grandchildren. Even if that life means that his body hurts, in a horrible way, all of the time, 24/7. I imagine if I were him, I'd be ready to cut my cords with this world and move onto the next, where the pain would be gone, where he can run with the wind, embrace the loved ones he has lost. But, he's obviously not ready for that heavenly reunion, as wonderful as it must sound to him, because he has his earthly reunions to look forward to, with the kids, the many grandkids.

Each time a new child comes into our family, he is grateful he was alive to see the day... As each of us married, he was thrilled to be there to celebrate. I know one of the most wonderful experiences of his life was to see Dave's wedding last January, knowing how long his oldest son had waited to be the groom, not the groomsman for one of his little brother's weddings. The joy of his son was a gift for my dad, that made his physical pain of all the days before absolutely worth it. It was probably worth it times ten in his eyes.

Two new babies will be welcomed to our family by the fall-- I'm sure he's planning on being here to hold them, marvel at them, express how quickly time has flown, how he used to be the daddy holding the new baby, not the grandpa watching his sons and daughter take on that job, when we are obviously too young and inexperienced to do this! Actually, we all agree with him. In his eyes, as well as our own, we are still just little kids, riding roller skates on the patio, taking our bikes to the dirt path with the good jumps, getting ready for the next baseball/soccer/basketball game, asking for money to walk to 7-11 for Slurpees.

This man, who I am blessed to call Daddy is one of the few constants in my world, always loyal, kind and loving. No matter how old I get, he will always be my Dad, protective of me to a fault, always an example of being long-suffering, patient, and full of optimism for the future, regardless of what the past has held.

I will always feel cherished in his eyes, and know that no matter what, no matter what, he is always proud of me. He has told me, and shown me this, and taught me that I never had to do anything to deserve it. He has freely given his love to me simply because I'm his daughter, that I exist. It was never something I was required to earn. It's a gift a father gives his child, without a thought.

His example has helped me understand how our Heavenly Father loves us unconditionally, and we are so beloved to him, no matter what.

Daddy, I love you. I love you a million lifetimes worth of a daughter's love and adoration. I'm grateful for each day, each moment I share with you, knowing that each one is a gift that I must hold in my heart and cherish. And truly, I do.

** As a p.s.-- I meant to give this to my Dad on Father's Day-- just a couple short months ago-- now it will serve as my personal tribute to him as we lost him this morning, August 7, 2008. He died quickly, and I'm sure his reunions in heaven were incredible! He and I laughed just a few days ago-- he was on crutches and I said, "Dad? What would you do if you woke up tomorrow morning and were completely HEALTHY?" And he laughed and thought for a moment, then said, "I don't know. I guess I'd be CONFUSED." Then, he laughed some more, gave me a hug, and sent me off, not wanting me to worry a moment. So, I guess as he went from one dimension of life to the next, he may have had a brief, amazed moment of CONFUSION! Wow! This works, and this works! This doesn't hurt and this doesn't hurt! I FEEL GREAT! I certainly hope so. But, this world has lost a true original-- as his daughter, I have lost my Daddy-- for a short time, in the scheme of things... But, I know he wouldn't want tears, or worry. He'd just want laughter and joy-- as irreverent as you could be as opposed to the reverence some show their dead.

Oh, Daddy-- you will be MISSED. And then MISSED SOME MORE.

All of my love, Missy Donut, Lolo, your daughter, Laurie.

Faith, Hope, and Charity

2008-05-22T11:44:00.005-06:00

Just as doubt, despair, and desensitization go together, so do Faith, Hope, and Charity. The latter, however, must be carefully and constantly nurtured, whereas despair, like dandelions, needs so little encouragement to sprout and spread. Despair comes so naturally to the natural man!
-- Neal A. Maxwell

I have been pondering this triad that is so vital to a life of peace and happiness in this fallen and imperfect world. None of the three seem to look right when just standing alone-- Faith needs Hope and Charity, Hope needs to be surrounded by Faith and Charity, and Charity means little without Faith and Hope. You know what I'm saying...

I have spent the past year questioning my faith. I have wondered, "Is this important to me because it is how I was raised and it's comfortable to me, or do I really, really believe all of this?" I found it interesting, and kind of annoying honestly, that as I was beginning to have doubts, a couple of my brothers who had gone years with doubts were suddenly completely sure of the gospel message and the way we worship. I thought, come on! Somebody doubt with me!!!! I know, it sounds ridiculous-- but I really felt that way. Just completely out of place somehow.

I found myself hoping more than anything that I would be able to find the path I needed to take to find peace of mind. I studied, I immersed myself in scripture and prayer, many times finding myself on my knees many times in a day. I also have hoped against all hope that I have made the right decisions in my life, even though they have led me to this Crazy Land I find myself in now. I just hope that in the Big Picture it's all going to be okay. I have yearned to know it's all going to be okay.

During this time of spiritual and emotional turmoil, I discovered within myself a deeper ability to be charitable. I became aware of those who were struggling so much worse than I was, and having a deep desire to somehow help carry their burdens, even if for a moment.

It's interesting that Neal A Maxwell says that Doubt, Despair, and Desensitization go together in exactly the same way. I can say with a sure knowledge that I have been down the Doubt, Despair and Desensitization Highway, and the sure path, the Straight and Narrow is a better road. I have learned that if you're not always working to seek God, to seek His Goodness, His Tender Mercies, you quickly start going backwards. You can't have one moment in your life of "A ha! I believe!" and think it's good. Not in the world we live in now. It has become a literal battle for our souls-- it has become a time when if you're not paying close attention, you fall backwards into the "Three D's" faster than you can blink.

Life isn't a journey on a road going one direction or another. It's more like being dropped in the middle of the ocean. You have to go SOMEWHERE. Even if that somewhere is DOWN. Treading water is not possible at this point. You either drown, or hunker down and swim. Life doesn't allow us the leisure of standing still, thinking about where we are and where we want to go next. It just keeps moving, the clock keeps ticking, the sun rises and sets one way or the other.

I have learned to just MOVE. Move, and continue trying to figure this whole thing out. I have faith that God will not let me drown if I cry out for help. Because of my faith, I hope that He will save me when I'm getting in over my head (which is most of the time in my opinion). And, I continue to develop my charity for my fellow travellers on this road, because life is not an easy journey, not by any stretch of the imagination.

I hope the pain and stresses I have experienced have made me a kinder, more loving individual.

You know, no one gets out of this life ALIVE, as it has been said. Hopefully, we're able to lift one another along the way. That seems to me to be a better way to prove who we are to ourselves above all.

Crazy People

2008-03-16T21:20:00.005-06:00

What’s with this sudden choice of disorders we get right now? When I was a kid, we just had crazy people, that’s it, just crazy people-- Ellen Degeneres

Ah, Ellen, Ellen, Ellen. I love you like I used to love Rosey O'Donnell. Before she got all angry and militant.

Rosey was hilarious on her show. She cracked me up every day. She was never sorry for dying to eat one (or a dozen) Krispy Kremes or singing her crazy jingles. One day though, Rosey? She just got ANGRY. The fun, easy going show got canceled. Her really fun, short-lived magazine? Canceled. Even the great outfits, talking about her cute adopted kids? Canceled. It's like Rosey, as we knew her, was canceled herself. Ah, Rosey, Rosey-- funny gal who loved to eat the really yummy stuff? Where have you gone? Last I saw, she had a really crazy haircut and just looked pissed to be alive. Now, that serves no one, right?

So, seeing that there was a chance to jump in after being canceled off the air for actually being "lebonese" (as she said - man, I love Ellen!)-- Ellen made her move. And now I love her show. I even love her girlfriend. What's not to love about that beautiful monster that killed me on those shows she was on? As is probably visible here, my brain is functioning far below the typical comatose victim. I have had a bad week. A week where I have needed some good Ellen.

She starts off her show with some great music, and dances up and down the aisles. She laughs at herself, her dancing, and just does basically all kinds of ridiculous stuff. But, she's not all mad about it. (aka Rosey) She's just a fun-lovin' gal, having a good time on her show. Okay, Rosey used to be too. Come on, Ellen, stay with us now. You do not have to go over to the ANGRY SIDE. For the love of all that is funny, just stay with us. WE NEED YOU.

So, this is what I'm loving about Ellen today. She called this quote so well. Disorders, disorders. Everything is either a disorder or an illness. Drink too much? You're SICK. Steal stuff? You're sick. Set things on fire, that are not normally supposed to be burning? Sick. Get bummed out? Disorder. Even just plain old being weird, possibly psychotic? Now you can have Dissociative Personality Disorder. I mean, you can just be a mean SOB and you have this Disorder/Illness Defense going for you. Hey, can't people just be MEAN? EVIL? How about just plain old NUTS? How about that?

Now, I will say, for all the world to know (none of them read this, I'm feeling fairly safe on this count), that I have one CRAZY GR--, RELATIVE. This person is just completely NUTS. Off their ROCKER. Plus, they have a real strong side of EVIL going on. So, yeah, we pretty much avoid this particular person, and all others of the same family line who are a lot the same. Just CRAZY. We could pull out a Psychiatric Handbook of Labels, and I'm sure we could find all sorts of Disorders and Illnesses they, as a collective, have. Even if they are Sick/Disordered-- they are very, VERY UN-NICE PEOPLE. Really a negative, mean individual. We have avoided them for the better part of my life now.I feel completely comfortable saying that this group is CRAZY. And not in the cute, walking around in a daze saying funny things, type way.

You know, like the Favorite Family Drunk/Crazy Person. Everybody has one of those, don't they? They are that person where we go, "Oh, that Crazy Uncle Charlie! Oh You! We gotta love you in all your total psychosis!" Cuz, we do, don't we? Yes, we definitely do. We give them a break for being nuts, because they are also, most of the time, fairly entertaining. When I was married, on the in-law side of the family was kind of an odd aunt. But, we loved her, because, consistently at family functions, she could do an almost perfect imitation of Donald Duck. Now, who is going to be hard on that person? We always knew, at some point during Thanksgiving, or you know, some other time when everyone was really SERIOUS, that she was going to pull out The Donald Duck! We needed her at functions! She lightened us up!!!

One of my kids are kind of becoming the crazy cousin that everyone loves for simply doing or saying something so random that it definitely catches everyone by surprise. They will say something where everyone has to stop, doing a double, or possible triple take, say WHATTTTT?????? and then burst out laughing. I have decided to not take this personally, because it's not. It's more that "Hey, SOMEBODY has to do this job! So, I guess it will be you!"

I personally am very fond of those whom are NUTS among us. Those people make the rest of life interesting for those who are a lot more "normal" or who take things far too seriously, which is encouraged as we "grow up". My sons help me see the things in life that are hidden under the carpet of our "adult, we must keep ourselves together" selves. They can see life with an innocent eye, not being worried what people will think or say, if they expose one of those simple, but awkward situations for what it is.

Today, I will thank the Good Lord for the pure and innocent among us, those who feel like just letting it all hang out while we are working so hard to keep it all held in. Being able to live Amongst The Crazy is the best of all worlds to be. Think about your resident Crazy Person, and see if you want to challenge me. I doubt you will.

The Laws of Fate

2008-02-28T20:52:00.003-07:00

Real love is always fated. It has been arranged before time. It is the most meticulously prepared of coincidences. And fate, of course, is simply a secular term for the will of God, and coincidence for His grace." --Joshua Harris

Wow. I mean, come on, who among you doesn't have his mouth fall open at that statement? Is it truly this easy? Seriously? Come off it. Let's just start, preschool on, with how many times, with how many people, we have fallen in love. Oh my gosh, you count the teenage years alone and it could potentially number in the thousands, ME ALONE. That's not counting all the other shmucks of this world, who have their "real love" a product of "fate". Over and over and over it seems. Falling in love, such a heady experience. I'm considering this today because, first of all, it's one of the first really spring-like days I have seen in many months. The winter is starting to thaw. I still have some snow here and there on my lawn, but the majority of it is melted. My poor yard of formerly, beautiful, lush, green grass. It's now sort of like swamp land, soon to be destroyed completely by the insane heat of the summer. It reminds me of the lush African plain-- you know, the one we saw in Lion King-- that gets completely dried out within days to finally becoming a pathetic "water hole" or what we here in the U.S. would simply call a "puddle". This is what all those enormous jungle animals have to get them through the bulk of their year.

So, to try to relate this back to where I started? Well, gosh. I have no idea. I have actually digressed myself to a point of no backwards digression. I have finally seen the day.

Oh, right. Spring. I've got some crocuses popping up, here and there, just so lovely, against all this death of plantlife that lies before me. Dried up, very dead appearing rose bushes, which I know will soon be blooming out of control in no time. My swampland grassy area, which will at some point soon, dry out, be incredibly green and lush, and then be dried out and dead again. Maybe within the same week. Who knows? The kids have been outside today with squirt guns, loving this 50 degree weather. I hate to tell them, so I won't, that tomorrow is supposed to be yet another massive snow storm.

My right hip says so, which believe me, is the best judge of these things. If I'm limping, seriously limping, there will be precipitation within 24 hours. How old does that make me sound? Yes, amazingly old, but then again, it's kind of like being a psychic. I have these powers of precipitation knowledge (NOT GUESSING-- I'M NEVER WRONG ON THIS), simply because I spent way too much time, lying on my right hip, while pregnant, for nearly five years in a row. It wasn't a laziness issue. No, those issues show up much better on my butt, pretty much. No, it was a "protect the baby from the early pop-out", or in doctor terms, better known as PRETERM LABOR. Yeah, my body would be rockin' and rollin', weeks and weeks too soon, ready to blow the latest baby from my protective (?!) womb. So, the doctors would always say (and I managed to have a different doctor every time, from all the moving), lie down on my right hip (better blood carrying, oxygen delivery system, to the waiting baby), and "cross those little legs, girl!"

I did as I was told, and now, I have the Amazing Precipitation Gauge aka My Right Hip. Which means, my hip hurts like you can't believe today. The water is coming, in one form or another. I would have stood by Noah, just shouting along with him, "Folks! He's not kidding! This guy is not crazy! You all know how exact a science this crazy hip is! Trust me on this! It's not a paid endorsement I'm giving! Somebody! Get me some Lortab, STAT!" Yes. It hurts that much. But, it's always good as well to put the kids in proper coats before they leave for school. They argue with me about this quite a bit. Mom! It's totally sunny outside! Still, I'm shoving rain coats at them. A MOTHER KNOWS.... is my typical answer to these things. Then, of course, it rains or snows or whatever, and my kids have completely forgotten my psychic powers.

I'll bet I could work for the local news weather service. I mean, they are ALWAYS WRONG, aren't they? I could be like the psychic that the police force employs for the super unsolvable cases, but they keep it all under the table. Now, don't argue with me on this! You know all police forces have employed a psychic at some point! I watch t.v.! Come on! MEDIUM???? Anyone seen it???? I personally happen to love that show. I think that it's a great fit for all the actors on it. The only thing I find slightly creepy is this Allison DuBuois character, which is played masterfully by what's her name, is an actual person who says she actually DOES THIS STUFF. FOR REAL. Why isn't she working on the police force to stop this horrendous killing and raping of innocent people before it happens? Can she only see the past after the bad things happen? Well, that's REAL HANDY, isn't it? Oh well. It's still a great show. I refuse to miss a single episode. And that little Bridget character? That kid is bound for super stardom.

I just hope she is able to avoid all the Britney Spears-Lindsey Lohan version of GROWING UP. What a nightmare those two are, huh! Let's throw in Paris Hilton! Oh my, what a piece of work that kid is. Seems like for the amount of money those Hilton's have they would have sent that kid to some kind of boarding school, finishing school type of thing, then forced her off to some amazing university to get some sort of brain! You'd think! Every time that girl opens her mouth, it's like she's spouting stupid all over everyone.

Oh, all things for ranting on another day... I believe I started this latest installment discussing the laws of fate and falling in love. Yeah. That. Well, I have fallen in "true love" about ten trillion times in my life. That should be some sort of record. But, having the stars actually align and you falling in love with someone who's also falling in love with you? That my friends would have to be fated. Because it's such an anomaly when it happens. Of course, I have seen it in all four of my brothers, so I know it's possible.

So, for now, I'll just keep calling the weather shots and wait for the day when the stars align for me....

Dame Edna

2008-02-26T21:15:00.012-07:00

I was a bit cross with the new pope, not because he isn’t perfectly nice but because he is zooming around Europe in the popemobile, which darling old Pope John Paul II had promised to me. He knew I adored it and it would have been the perfect vehicle for travelling around the United States on my next big tour. -- Dame Edna

Every time I hear that voice saying, "Hello, Possums!" I just crack up. And feel total delight honestly. Is that so wrong? Yes, I do love this wonderful transvestite, I really do. She's like that grandma/grandpa (?), neighbor coffee lady/man (?) that we all need. Now, Dame Edna, she knows the Power of Pure Ridiculousness. She really does. Look at that violet hair, look at those glasses! Holy cow, I just got glasses for the first time, and if I had had an opportunity to select from the "Dame Edna Collection", I would definitely have chosen these ones. "She" is just completely delightful in her mocking of our society, and yet when she leaves your television presence you feel lifted up. I think that may be some kind of endorphin feeling you get from total hysterical laughter. (Which is excellent, because then we don't have to actually EXERCISE to get that endorphin thing going. Whoosh! That was close!)

So, here I stand, proud in my love for Dame Edna, Phyllis Dillar, Rosemarie, and any other creature that I will find in the future who belongs in their category. These are my mentors, my television mothers, my friends that make it okay for me to be sarcastic and laugh at the difficult, stressful life that I have. We all NEED Dame Edna. Don't try to argue with me that we don't. You will be WRONG. (Actually, pretty much any point you argue with me will be ending in that same sort of way... Sorry...)

My son Alex, my sweet little boy of nearly 14, all 5'4" of him, yep, he's my height, is still a little boy in his heart. He does his best, going from class to class in jr. high. But, he's struggling right now. But, he doesn't have what most junior high kids struggle from. Acne? Nope-- he's got my skin, lucky dog. Nervous around girls? Not particularly. Wanting to dress cool? He's starting to care, I guess, but only to wear what he likes, not what's "stylin'". He could not care less about stylin', let me tell you.

So, what is my adolescent boy worried about? What makes him struggle? You'd never guess unless you were a Mommy of an adolescent autistic boy, who's trying so hard to fit in and understand this world around him that's still a lot more Mars than it is Earth. His biggest struggles, day in and day out at school are those five precious minutes walking from class to class in the hallways.

Now, for me, these moments were always priceless. I think I mentioned in an earlier post that these were pure opportunity for flirting with as many guys as I could fit into that five minute period. By the time I got to class, after getting my flirt on so much, I was EXHAUSTED. But, enough about me. This is about Alex.

The kids are loud, working hard to catch each other's attention without appearing to be trying to. That in itself is difficult to even type up. Let alone say it. Let alone explain it to Alex. He just knows it's LOUD. The boys, who are still not noticing the girls much, love this opportunity to fart, swear, belch loudly, and in all other "boy language" impress other boys. Which will lead to loud laughter and high fives all around! Yeah, man! Nice one! Suhhhhhhweeeeeeeeeeeet!!! How do I know this language, this BoySpeak? Four brothers. That alone should tell you. I have heard my share of adolescent brothers farting, swearing, belching, and doing other disgusting things billions of times. I'm sure there's a portion of my brain where all of that Boy Stuff is just tattooed in there. Never to be removed by any method, including electroshock or lobotomy.

But to Alex, who says "Excuse me" when he farts or belches, and doesn't recognize swear words, let alone use them-- he's still working on the basics of the English language-- this is just pure loudness and he HATES IT. It's TOO [DAMN] LOUD FOR MY BOY. Yes, I inserted the "damn". Alex would never use it. It's a biblical term, therefore, not in my swearing portion of language. That portion will be discussed at a later time. Just know, that any term, used in any biblical fashion, is fair game with me. No guilt required!

My boy, who's gotten used to walking between classes seven times a day, five days a week, has just gotten completely overloaded, not because it's loud, I think he's learning to tune that out as much as possible. What's hard, is that the kids, especially the guys, want to be HIS FRIENDS. Yes, this should be a wonderful thing! A marvelous thing! But, to Alex, these loud guys, who he generally likes, in quieter, more controlled settings, say different stuff and do different stuff between classes every day! For Alex, who likes his life to stay the same as much as possible (which is impossible, by the way), all of these different things they are saying, or yelling, or whatever, they are never the same, from day to day, between 1st period Monday to 1st period Tuesday. And so on.

You know, I just can't imagine, as a girl, and now grown woman (I'm trying to pull that particular image off while in public-- there's absolutely no maturity here to prove that...), how it would be to have the same friends say the very same things to me between the same classes from day to day, year to year. It doesn't make sense. And it would be incredibly BORING! It's the very changing, and unknown, unanticipated nature of this that makes it so exciting to kids of this age range, which they now medically refer to as "ADD", I call it KIDHOOD. Anyway, it goes against all that is normal in jr high and high school to have these things not be changing.

This nature of things, this normalcy, if you will, stresses him out, almost to beyond tolerating. He NEEDS sameness. He NEEDS quiet. He NEEDS to know what to expect, so that he can figure out what it is he's supposed to do in reaction. But, if the game keeps changing, how can he figure out what he's supposed to do? Well, how???

Let's just throw a sporting example out here, trust me it will suck, I don't know sports. But, if you were playing baseball, and one inning had three outs, and another had two and another had 12, and some games had nine innings and some had four and some had six, how would any of us know, players or their Mom's and Dad's, what on earth was going on? We'd be looking back and forth at each other, saying, "Didn't the last inning have four outs? What's going on? How many outs does this team get??? Oh, hold up, it's five outs, so maybe the next inning it's six?? Maybe???" The world in general would not tolerate this incessant changing for very long. Because there are some things that simply have to be played by rules, rules that we can count on, rules that we can be sure of.

Life though, is not that way. So, to Alex, who's trying so hard to play a part in life's games, like going to each class, there's just utter confusion at the lack of sameness. Once he thinks he knows what's up, the chair gets yanked out from under him, and it all starts again. He can NEVER figure it out. And he hates it. Do you blame him? I certainly don't. But, you also can't change all people in the world to function in a way that makes him comfortable. I often wish that I could. But, he is having to learn, in a painful way, how things change, and change, and CHANGE, AND CHANGE AND CHANGE!!! YIKES!

Now, I have made no inquiries about this, but I can be pretty sure that my good friend Dame Edna would be happy to loan Alex the Popemobile (is she ever gets ahold of it) to get between classes, just to get out of all of that confusion. For her it's the perfect vehicle for all the world to see her stunning self, doing her perfect "queenly" (oops!) wave. But, to Alex, this would just block out all the noise, all the confusion, all the changing from moment to moment, as the world goes around. In fact, I'm fairly sure that Alex, in all of his sweet naturedness, would probably offer other kids rides, or maybe just start mowing kids down in the halls, so they would get out of his way and stop ruining this trail from 1st period to 2nd.

My poor innocent baby. Truly. My heart breaks for him. My heart breaks even more that I cannot stand as sentinel for him, between classes, each and every day, and maintain a three foot radius around him so no one could bump him, attempt to speak to him, or throw off his schedule that he's so painfully trying to maintain. His entire level of equilibrium is constantly thrown off. There's just no way to fix it, except to try to help him learn to adapt. And adapting is THE MOST DIFFICULT element of autism.

Sure, my kids have learned to speak, and even express themselves well. They have great senses of humor. For them, they are already ahead of maybe 85% of other autistic kids, for which I feel incredibly blessed. I guess they were wired to be able to do that, despite the autism. It's certainly nothing that I can imagine I contributed to, besides talk up a storm every day of their lives. They may have learned to talk, just to make me stop talking. Totally possible, my friends. But, they still have autism. Even "high-functioning autism". But, no matter what title you put in front of AUTISM, it is still AUTISM. You can even say Asperger's Disorder, but baby, believe me, it's still AUTISM. And its painful. To my child, and to me, to see my child in pain.

There's nothing worse than knowing you can no longer protect your child from the world. Even if he needs protecting from really nice kids who just want to include him in the day to day moments.

Thanks, kids, for trying. Please, keep trying. And we will continue to work with Alex so that he can adapt yet again to something that will require him to do things in what he will interpret as completely backwards. Or Back-Ass-Wards as we like to call it. (You know "ass" was in the Bible! Get off your high horse!)

Finally, I will let Dame Edna have the last word--

"Never be afraid to laugh at yourself, after all, you could be missing out on the joke of the century."

AMEN.

Life is Ridiculous

2008-02-15T09:18:00.008-07:00

I think the worst time to have a heart attack is during a game of charades...or a game of fake heart attack. -- Demetri Martin

Starting with that amazing quote, from Demetri Martin, who is now my personal guru of life, where do I go? I just have to say, to all who are not yet aware of this truth, LIFE IS RIDICULOUS. I mean, come on. Look at all of the crazy stuff that goes on. Look at your own life, and just try to tell me that it is in no way ridiculous. You can't. You know you can't.

I mean, I'm speaking from a let's-stand-back-and-take-a-more-objective-look-at-things. When you stand back from your own life, just try a "let's think outside the box" moment, and it's all kind of ridiculous.

Now, I am in no way saying that our lives have no purpose. To the contrary, I believe our lives, every day of them, how we live them, is our ultimate purpose. So, please, don't misunderstand me. But, what I'm saying is, you know, take a moment and remember your 16, 17, 18 year old self. Yeah, we were cool back then, weren't we? We had it all FIGURED OUT. Every adult within a ten mile radius of us was completely STUPID. THEY DIDN'T KNOW ANYTHING. BRAIN DAMAGED, if you will. We knew how we were going to run our very future successful lives, and for some reason, all of these adults around us had already squandered away their opportunities that we would be easily creating for our ultimate major successes in life.

I can go back to that teenage thinking without much trouble. Then, I once again realize, LIFE IS RIDICULOUS. I was a kid (like all other kids, I might add) who had this deal figured out. I would go to college, sing and dance with a major performing group at the university of my choice, with that performing would be opportunities to travel all over the world. After I completed my education, I would then find me a nice returned missionary, we would fall in love, he would of course have tons of money, so life would just go so easy. We'd find ourselves an adorable little apartment that I would decorate all cutesy and fun for our new life together.

After a couple of years of this newly wedded bliss, we would start our perfect little family. I wanted six children, three boys, three girls, or you know, six whatevers. I wanted six because I had come from a family of five, and there was always an odd man out. That odd man would be ME. So, I wanted that sixth kid to kind of balance things. As I watched, judging severely all parents I viewed in church and other public places, with my teenage self, I just became very sure of some things.

1) My kids will never have runny noses, messy hair, dirty bare feet, Kool-Aid smile, or anything of that manner. My kids would look PERFECT AT ALL TIMES, because my children would of course be perfect.

2) My kids would always behave in public. That means, they would want to hold my hand at all times, because of my loving motherly kindness, rather than dashing around a store, or church, or the library, making lots of noise and totally embarrassing me, besides making me run around trying to catch them.

3) My children would be amazingly talented. They would sing, dance, play multiple instruments. We would have a family band of some sort. There would be no need for any television, we would just be so busy loving each other.

4) My children would be incredibly intelligent. They would always be in the advanced levels of any grade they were in. Their teachers would rave to me of their amazing brains, which I, of course, already knew. They would be brilliant. And, of course, the most popular kids in school because they would be head cheerleader, head quarterback, and valedictorian. They would be the kids to speak at graduation, the homecoming queen, the kid voted Most Popular in the yearbook.

5) I would be a stay-at-home Mommy and would be completely fulfilled every moment of every day, rocking my children, reading to them, playing with them, baking bread, making delicious dinners every night for my loving husband to come home to.

6) My home would absolutely be Heaven On Earth. My family would prefer to be home rather than any other place because of the sheer wonderfulness of it. It would be SPOTLESS. It would be LOVING. It would be filled with classical music, wonderful smells from the kitchen, and these six children who would love to be together, playing board games at the family table.

7) At some point, it would be determined that I was MOTHER OF THE YEAR. Not because I in some way asked for that title, but because everyone who knew me just had to nominate me for this, because it was JUST SO OBVIOUS.

8) We would have plenty of money $$$.

9) My husband would ADORE ME. How on earth could he not???? He would treat me like the goddess that I obviously am, and would tell me every day how lucky he was to have me.

10) Other families would try to emulate us, in all of our perfection, for we were THE PERFECT FAMILY, IN EVERY POSSIBLE WAY.

Now, come on-- is anyone laughing yet? Is anyone laughing really hard yet??? This is where the ridiculous nature of life comes in. Nothing, but nothing winds up in any of these ways. Let me just hit these babies one by one. We'll knock them down, just like we're bowling, ok? (I love bowling by the way, even though I pretty much suck.)

1) My kids were pretty much the most unkempt, loud kids around. They always had Kool-Aid smiles, runny noses (horrible allergies, all of them), and dirty bare feet. Always.

2) My kids could always immediately escape my grasp, running willy nilly through any public place we were. And those little suckers could move FAST. I always had one on my hip (dirty bare feet for all to see), one in a stroller, and one just running as fast as she could. Yep, that's how it pretty much went anywhere. The worst was the library of course, as my children had no concept of the idea of being QUIET, anywhere, at anytime.

3) My kids are talented. Definitely. Christopher can draw just about anything, although he's very focused right now on logos. Jessie can sing like an angel. Alex has a sweetness about him that makes anyone and everyone fall in love with him instantly. My kids truly are amazing to me. But, family band material? Uh, no. And my children have watched so much t.v., educational mostly, that they can quote entire Disney movies by heart. In fact, Alex and Chris can just start up at any point in any movie and then just toss the dialogue, sound effects, and songs back and forth clear to the end. They do this in the car. They do this in the store. They do this at dinner. It's an amazing skill, but can get really annoying to me.

4) Okay, now I'm the Mommy here, and I say my kids are brilliant. They really are. But, I have two sons with autism, who are in special education classes, who need extra help in nearly everything they do. My daughter, who is amazingly intelligent, pretty much hates high school and really struggles with grades right now. She thinks that all that stuff that I did and thought was cool in high school (like being a cheerleader, homecoming queen, Most Popular) is pretty much the most stupid things to aspire to. She can't even believe I thought that "preppy" stuff was cool. She's actually embarrassed for me, for my high school years. How do you like that?

5) I did and do love being a stay-at-home Mommy. I love the Mommy-ing stuff in every single way. I absolutely never get tired of it. And I will willingly and happily Mommy anyone else's kids too. Work was especially fun today in the library because of all of the little toddlers, just running around causing total havoc. I loved it. Adorable. But, the whole Wife/Maid duty? HATE IT, HATE IT, HATE IT. I am lousy at it. I can't decorate any room in any sort of anything. So, my house is kind of just slapped together with a bunch of cheap furniture, most of it given to me. I still cook, but we eat fast food way more often than we should. Real Life there. I think the best thing that could happen here is that I could get MY OWN WIFE. Seriously.

6) Okay, I will reiterate-- I'm not a particularly happy homemaker. My house is typically just slightly better than when the tornado of my kids blew threw it, and I have discovered, before anyone else on this planet I am sure, that when you do housework, or laundry, you JUST HAVE TO DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN. Pretty much immediately after you did it the first time. So, I have turned into kind of this "Why make the bed when you're just going to climb in later?" kind of Mommy. This all didn't go so well with my ex-husband. Oh well. You do what you can do.

7) I am so far from being MOTHER OF THE YEAR that the thought itself is completely ridiculous. Is there some point that lies beyond ridiculous? Because that's what that whole scenario is.

8) No matter how much money you make, you spend it. And more. So, you are always behind. Ask anyone. It's true. Unless you willingly share with the poor, at which point the numbers don't make any sense at all as you can always pay all of your bills. You line the numbers up, you look at the paid bills, and you feel mystified. I have a lot of people who have agreed with me on this.

9) "My husband would ADORE ME. How on earth could he not???? He would treat me like the goddess that I obviously am, and would tell me every day how lucky he was to have me." Well, okay-- I have been divorced coming on two years. So, that whole idea of my naive youth just bites. Wishful thinking to this day though. It could happen! Well, probably not.

10) "Other families would try to emulate us, in all of our perfection, for we were THE PERFECT FAMILY, IN EVERY POSSIBLE WAY". Yeah, another serious misjudgment on my part, right there. Definitely.

So, I believe that I have proved to myself at least, and anyone who may read this (does anyone actually read this??) that life, and all of our big plans, are ridiculous, and well, just plain coming from some sort of alien life force.

Have you ever heard that God must have an amazing sense of humor? Okay, that's a ABSOLUTE TO ME at this point. And I think He hopes we recognize that the best laid plans we have for ourselves are no match for HIS PLANS FOR US.

So, this night I'm going to try to listen in a quiet moment for what God's Plans for me right now are.

Because MY plans can't begin to hold a candle to HIS and fighting against HIS Plans, thinking my baby plans are superior is just another ludicrous thought.

I think I'll be spending extra time on my knees tonight, asking and listening for what REALLY should be going on, and feel His Peace that I'm doing okay. Even if things didn't turn out just as I had planned.

I hope my life is turning out the way He planned though. I really do.