My Life as a Lisa

Somehow, the days trickle by. Sometimes they move slowly, like a lazy stream on a hot summer day. Other times they tumble by like a class 5 rapids. Either way, I am always left feeling as though I didn't get enough done in that particular day.

My stepmom still has my dad's voice on her answering machine. Sometimes I call her when I know she's at work just to hear his voice. I almost can believe he's there when I hear it. It makes me tear up sometimes. It always comforts me to hear it though. After his illness in 2004/2005, he had a hoarse voice that never got better. Speech therapists said they could help it and make it better, but he never did his voice exercises like he was supposed to, so it never did improve. It's a short message...."Leave a message after the beep." Oh, how I wish I really could leave him a message. I miss him so very deeply. Dad, I think you're around me. I think you know what's in my heart, what I write, what I think. I love you. I miss you. I know you can't, but whenever I think of you my heart still says "Come back. I want my Daddy."

I heard from one of my best friends on Facebook today. I met her in the 7th grade. I moved to a small town from a larger city after my parents divorced. To go from a school that had as many people in my grade as the whole school had in my new town was culture shock, to say the least. I never did fit in. I never was truly accepted. These kids had known each other, for the most part, since they were babies. I was always an outsider and they never let me forget it. There was one girl though. She was pretty, but goofy looking. She had braces and huge 1980's style glasses. She sat behind me in study hall. She was skinny and short and had the most bowed legs I'd ever seen. One day she started bouncing a small red rubber ball during study hall. It would go rolling past me and I'd catch it for her and send it back to her to bounce again. She never got caught by the teacher. Of course, this was a study hall where the boys found it hysterically funny to say "hooter" with their hands over their mouths from all corners of the room. It was a euphemism for giving oral sex to a man. Later, of course, they took great pleasure in saying "B.J." as much as possible, but in the 7th grade, hooter it was. The ice was broken between this girl and me and we started making fun of the boys for being so stupid. We started whispering and passing notes back and forth during study halls. Soon we were making up nicknames. She chose Bubbles. I never did get a nickname I liked, but I sure tried. I guess I'm just not the nickname type. She was, though. Before long, we were inseparable.

All through the rest of junior high, high school and the two years past that, we were together. We got into trouble together, we had boyfriends together, we planned what to wear to school so we'd match. We went through a phase of wearing big hiking boots with bright red laces. There was also a phase of wearing knickers. There was also the phase of wearing brightly colored plaid flannel shirts. On those days we said were "going scroungy". Scrounges were the low-lifes of our school. They were the druggies, the drop outs, the ones who didn't bathe on a regular basis. Of course in our minds it was perfectly okay to dress like them as long as we weren't really *like* them. My friend had a very, very tough home life. Nowadays I realize that she was severely emotionally abused, but back then she just had a mean mom to me. Her mom was at least twice divorced and the most independent, coarse, hard-working, mean-spiritied person I had ever met. She had a tough life too, and as a single mom she worked very hard to support herself and her daughter. There was a lot to admire about her, but the way she treated her kid wasn't one of them. I frequently rode the bus home with my friend on Fridays and would stay overnight with her. She lived in the middle of nowhere on a small farm with a couple of horses and a herd of goats, plus many chickens. She had to milk the goats, gather the eggs, make egg noodles and numerous other things that made me feel like a real-life Laura Ingalls. My time there was fun, but always shadowed by the screaming and yelling that would go on when her mom got angry at her for some infraction. To this day, John and I have a "curse phrase" we use that I taught him. I use it interchangeably for all kinds of cuss words. It's "Jesus Christ, Beth." Her mom said that so often, and so loud, and in such a mean tone, that it became a phrase that made me think of anger and hurt whenever I heard it. Anyhow, Beth and I bonded and went through a lot of growing pains and teenage rituals together.

A few years ago, I stopped hearing from her. She never returned my calls, she never answered my cards or letters. No reasons given, no excuses, no nothing. I was so hurt and bewildered. She was the closest thing I'd ever had to a sister. She was in my wedding. I loved her. Suddenly today I get a message wondering if it was me. To paraphrase, she said "If it's you, all I have to do is say Muppets and Young Frankenstein." Yep, it's me, Beth. I can't tell you how happy I am to have her back in my life, in whatever form this may turn out to be. Ironically, I had just written a long letter to her a couple of weeks ago that I hadn't had a chance to send yet. It basically apologized for whatever I had done to cause her to stop talking to me, and asked her to please consider getting in touch. Great minds and all that, eh?

I certainly intend to come to post here, but somehow I rarely do. Maybe it's because of my busy boy, who is single-handedly destroying my house. :-P

This evening I am sitting by my younger daughter's bedside. I suspect she has the H1N1 flu. Last week we (lucky us!!!) went to see Miley Cyrus in concert with her best friend and best friend's mom. They are also our next door neighbors. The girls had a great time. Later that night, BFF spikes a high fever and the next morning was diagnosed with H1N1. Sure enough, four days later, Anna starts having a sore throat and muscle pain, and by last night had a fever. A bit ago it was 103.9. I gave her another dose of ibuprofen and right now she is sort-of dozing. Poor kid. I know how miserable it feels to be so hot one second and freezing the next. She can't get comfortable because she's either burning up or freezing. I plan on taking her to the pediatrician tomorrow because I want to know for sure if she has H1N1. If she does, then that takes away my worry of whether to vaccinate her against it or not. I'm mostly worried about the little guy getting it, but there isn't much I can do now. I'm sure she's been contagious for a couple of days and the two of them are so close I know that germs have been transmitted between them, lol. I just hope and pray that we all come out of this okay. As far as I know, we don't have any secondary risk factors such as asthma, etc...I am halfway hoping our ped. will maybe put Ian on Tamiflu or something, if he's old enough to take it. Not sure about that. Hopefully that way he'd end up with a mild case of the flu instead of a big hairy scare one. Not sure if Abby will get it or not. She rarely gets sick. However, when she does, it's usually a doozy. She just doesn't put things in her mouth and she doesn't get too close to people, so it helps her to fend off the bugs that go around. I myself have had an aching throat and nausea the past 2 or 3 days, but it doesn't seem to be getting worse so may just be allergies. Mine are the worst in the fall.

I didn't end up blogging about it here, although I intended to the day I posted back in August. My dad died rather suddenly at the end of July. It ended up being a miserable, unhappy summer for me. Sometimes I feel as though I'm going through the motions of life, but I really do try to be happy and productive because I know my dad would want me to. I love him so much, no matter whether he's here on this earth or not. I hope he knows that. I did write about his death on another blog I started but also haven't written on for months: http://myfather-smallthingswithgreatlove.blogspot.com/ After being there for his death, and holding his hand long after his earthly soul was gone, I know I'll never be the same. I also saw him the next day at the funeral home before he was cremated. Seeing him that way, particularly, drives home the fact that he really is gone. Touching him when he'd been refrigerated for a night, knowing how cold he was, doesn't leave any room for hope or doubt. Even though it's been a couple of months, I am still just in a state of shock and disbelief that he's really gone. We went to pick apples yesterday (before Anna got sick) and I missed him the whole time. Last year he and my stepmom went with us. We had so much fun, and his photos from that day are ones I'll always treasure. We had a lot of fun yesterday, but it wasn't the same for me.

I've applied for graduate school. Now I am just waiting for all of the bits and pieces to get there so they can decide on my application. They still need two letters of recommendation to show up, then hopefully I'll hear soon after that. Keep your fingers crossed for me! I'll fill you in on the whole thing if I get accepted and most especially IF I can figure out the funding for it.

I hope I can come back and post again soon. Ian is amazing. He's really starting to try to talk more, finally. He's even doing some small phrases. He's also adorable, if I do say so myself, lol. He tries to help with all the chores around here, and what a hoot and a trip that is. So, that is all I have time for right now. I'm off to call Anna's school and leave a message calling her off for tomorrow so I don't have to get up and do it tomorrow morning. Prayers and positive thoughts for her, and all of us, please!

Wow, I knew I had been busy, but I didn't realize that I hadn't posted anything since April. Really? My goodness. I guess Facebook really is taking over as far as the daily updates about the kids, etc...It's so easy to post a quick sentence here or there on FB and feel as though I've shared about the kids.



So I guess first, I'll update about the kids. Anna turned 8 at the end of June. We had a cake and went out to eat for dinner, but for the first time didn't have a party. I think she still thinks we're going to have a "real" party with friends, etc...but I was really hoping to avoid it this year. I'd rather spend the money on her, and things she needs, than a one-shot party that is over in three hours. Anyhow, she's mostly lazed around this summer. I meant to have her working on her math and summer worksheets more, but we just started doing them today. School starts in 3 weeks. Bad mom. She got a haircut a few weeks ago so it's shoulder length with some "bangs" (sort of, she thinks, lol). She looks beautiful and somehow so much older. It was a compromise haircut, with Anna wanting a short haircut with full bangs and Mom wanting her to get a trim with NO bangs. So we ended up in the middle. She got two fillings at the beginning of the summer and has two more to be done next week.

**Arg. I just posted this and half of the post is missing. I spent a long time writing a lot of info about other things, most especially Ian. I'm now irritated and upset and will just have to rewrite it later.

As many of you know, I have been anxiously awaiting Ian's first words. He did say "tree" consistently back at Christmas while we had a tree up, but once it was gone he resumed his constant babbling and jabbering without any real recognizable words.

I took him to the pediatrician's for a check up and a vaccination about three weeks ago. I am very close with this doctor, who's been with us through the journey of Abby's birth and first years, through her diagnosis, through the arrivals of Anna and Ian. He's respectful and listens to me about my fears of giving a baby so many shots during the first two years of their lives, etc...Together we have come up with a vaccination schedule that I feel is safer and makes me able to give my kids their shots without total terror in my soul. He ends up happy because although it may take twice as long, my kids do end up with all their shots before school. Anyhow, that day I told Dr. D. that I was concerned about Ian's lack of speech. I said that if he didn't have a minimum of ten words by 18 months (2 months away) that I would be requesting a speech evaluation right away. While I wasn't concerned about autism at that point, I was worried about a speech delay. Why put off getting help? Dr. D. agreed with me and proceeded to give Ian his shot. The VERY NEXT DAY we had an explosion of words. It's like Ian's shot *gave* him language instead of taking it away, lol.

In three short weeks, he is now saying a minimum of 15 words. More importantly, I can tell that he's had his "lightbulb moment". He gets it now....everything has a word associated with it. He is constantly pointing to things and saying "dah?". He wants to know what the word for that "thing" is.....yesterday he started calling a baby doll a "baby" and labeling it's body parts. Okay, he only says "eye", but still, lol. He's definitely behind where Anna was at this age, but I can tell that he's just getting started. He's consistently saying "bah-bye" while he waves good-bye and "hi" when someone comes or when he's "on the phone". He's saying dog, (dah) truck,(tuh) juice, (ssss) cheese (chsss) and ball (bah) reliably. And of course, the first word of all, "tree"(tee), is still a big one, especially right now while he's getting outside and seeing so many trees everywhere.

I feel so relieved. He's even saying mamamama a fair amount when he's around me. Still not sure it's a word, or "mama", but we're getting there.

A few weeks ago, a woman here in Ohio was murdered by her autistic son.
http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2009/02/14/earlyshow/health/main4802860.shtml
Aside from the fact that this low-functioning man who has no understanding of what he did is now in jail awaiting a trial he cannot participate in, (which is a whole other issue that our society needs to deal with....) it underscores the scary fact that some children and adults with autism do exhibit violent behaviors. It scares me for my daughter's sake, because although she probably won't ever have these behaviors herself, her life could be in danger if she is around others who do.

April is Autism Awareness Month. Today I read a powerful essay about the uncommon, yet real, side of violence in autism. My child doesn't exhibit these behaviors, and hopefully never will, but it DOES exist and we as a society need to be prepared. We need supports in place to help the families and caregivers of these few adults who would hurt themselves and others. We need research into treatments to help these tormented souls find relief from the pain that drives them to be violent. With the increase in the prevalence of autism, reports of violence within the autism ranks can only increase as well. I hope we don't wait until today's tidal wave of children with autism are adults before we start thinking about how to handle this problem.

http://www.salon.com/mwt/feature/2009/03/26/bauer_autism/print.html

Please go read this if you care about anyone with autism. Thank you.

Since when do we have to fix everyone? When did it become a fact that if someone is not.....anything.....we have to change that?

I'm depressed. I need to do something about it. Sometimes, though, I don't want to hear from others about how to fix it. I know what needs done to fix it. I'm me, after all, and I know better than anyone what needs to happen.

I don't want to wallow in depression forever. I don't want to keep feeling this bad. But sometimes, dang it, I need to talk about it. I need to be sad to someone else besides myself and my mom. My poor, poor mother, who can't take ONE.MORE.THING. being heaped on her. I end up not telling her much. Which means I end up not telling anyone, since really I have no IRL friends anymore. I'm very isolated and alone here.

Sometimes, I need to talk. Sometimes, I need to be sad. Sometimes, I need to feel sorry for myself. Sometimes, I need someone to just say that it's okay. It's okay to be sad, and sorry, and pitiful. It's okay to just be what you are, even if what you are isn't good.

This girl, she is my heart. Of course, you all know that each of my kids is my heart. But oh, this one. This photo was actually taken of her laying down at the doctor's office. She was supposed to get a shot, hence the unhappy expression. Minutes later we discovered she had strep throat, so joy of joys, no shot after all. But I digress....

Who KNEW that life raising this child would be as hard, or harder, than raising a child with autism? I didn't! Seriously! I thought that if I was ever blessed to have another baby after Ab.by, it would be a dream come true. It is a dream come true, just a more difficult dream than I thought.

She's so opinionated. She's always sure she's right. She won't budge on a decision once she has decided. She doesn't listen to me. She doesn't care what I think or what I say. Yet she's kind, and gentle, and giving. She's a friend to anyone who needs one. She seeks out the loneliest or saddest child around the playground and plays with them.

She's much more unsure of herself that I would expect given her headstrong nature. She says sometimes that she has no friends. She says everyone at school makes fun of her. She says she's stupid, and a failure. Where does she hear these words? They are like knife blades entering my heart whenever she says them. I've (no WE'VE) tried so hard to instill a healthy self image. We've tried to show her that no matter what society says about girls, or women, or HER, that she's what she wants to be. She controls her destiny. She's smart, and funny, and amazing. Life is work, and anything worth having is worth working for, no matter what. She knows these things, and yet she still falters.

She's only seven. Soon she'll be eight. I hope that as the years go by, the lessons we're trying to teach her now will come to fruition. I hope the girls aren't as mean to her as I know they could be. I hope her ego gets strong enough to say "So?" to anyone who would be mean to her just to make themselves feel bigger.

I hope. I hope, I hope, I hope. For this child, I hope.