Keeping Up with Science Boy

Do you ever just sit back and stare at your kids and wonder, "How on earth did you know that??"

I do, especially with M1, though M2 definitely has her moments.

Today, the subject of future occupations came up. It started with a discussion of 'Anne of Green Gables.' Bear with me. He admitted that he didn't think that there was any way that his imagination could stretch as far as Anne's.

"Oh, really?" I asked. "I happen to know one little boy who loves to sit in my car and dream up vehicles of the future. I honestly wonder if someday you'll be an engineer for a car manufacturer."

"No," he replied. "I don't want to do that. I want to work at a zoo so I can be around all the animals, especially the reptiles. And do they have bugs in some zoos?"

Bugs were his first true love. I don't think he'll ever get past them. I admitted that I didn't think that most zoos had bugs but that there were lots of places that do study bugs.

"Actually," he suddenly exclaimed, cutting off my statement, "I want to work at an aquarium so I can feed the cuttlefish. I want to make one of them mad so it'll squirt me."

I had to giggle at that one.

"Well, you could always work with Woods Hole."

"Woods Hole? What's that?"

"An oceanographic institution. They study all sorts of things. I'm sure they have a web site if you want to see it."

He did.

Forty-five minutes, two job descriptions, an article about plastic-eating bacteria, and a description of a conference in China on the genomes of social insects later, and he's telling me all about symbiotic relationships between golden jellyfish and a certain kind of algae. Heck, I didn't even know such a thing as a golden jellyfish existed!

I know he is smart. I know he picks these things up from various magazines, TV shows, etc. I know he doesn't understand it all yet because sometimes he'll totally have a light bulb moment. But what blows me away is his ability to see how everything connects, put it all together, and retain it. Someday I just hope he's able to capitalize on all of this. I don't ever want to lose the wonder of being amazed at my own child.

The Consequences of Studying Art with an Aspie

Today, in art, M1 and I discussed the term 'form.' We discussed how it signifies something three-dimensional and is therefore different from drawings or paintings. We discussed the terms height, width, and depth. We looked at a picture of a statue and made inferences from it. And then I asked M1 to make a sculpture. He, of course, first wanted to know what medium he was supposed to use. I was in a lazy mood and suggested Play-Doh.

"Can I make a snake?"

"No snakes. Nice try, Mr. McFly."

*grin*

He pulled out the red Play-Doh first, then black. He doesn't mix Play-Doh colors [any more], so I was curious to see what he uses he would find for those two particular colors. I watched for a minute and then forgot to pay attention since I was putting curtains into the dryer and cutting out a picture to put in a frame. Then I heard my name.

"Mom? I'm done, but it's not portable. You have to come see it."

I came.

Honestly, at first, I thought it was some sort of elephant gone horribly, horribly wrong. But no.

"It's a dung beetle! And it's rolling a ball of dung into a hole! They do this backwards and then they lay eggs inside the dung. Wanna see?"

*pause* "Wanna see what?"

"The eggs, of course!"

Serious points were given for creativity and scientific accuracy. A dung beetle. Whoda thunk?

Disturbing Birthday Images

As I mentioned a few days ago, the following child has had a birthday:

She's this old now:

And, as happens with all good birthdays, there were pictures taken, some of them disturbing.

The disturbing images aren't the ones where she loves her gifts, such as the pincushion that came with her sewing kit...

... or the charm to go with the charm bracelet we got her...

... or even the weird grin she displayed when she found a shirt she loved.

No... the disturbing images came when she unwrapped a Pillow Pet.



Kuro's in luv.

Blessed

Six years ago today, I gave birth to one of the best things that has ever happened to me.

It's hard to believe that she was born six years ago. SIX. How did I get so lucky as to have one wonderful child, let alone two?

Because this guy is equally wonderful.

I may not be a "churchy person," as M1 so eloquently put it, but I am still a very blessed person.

Today is a perfect example.

First, M2 waited patiently for everyone to get up before asking to open her gifts. She was so happy and grateful for what she got, even there weren't any "big" gifts. I'll have a proper birthday post tomorrow. M2 then asked what we were doing today and was very enthusiastic about going to see M1 at his swimming lesson, even though I know that she desperately wishes it was June so she could have swimming lessons, too, and attending his lesson meant that she wouldn't get to have a "home day" for her birthday.

After the swimming lesson, we went to the mall to pick up another gift for her (I wanted her to be present when we bought it). M1 wandered around the store and found something he wanted to get for his sister. It came out that he was very upset that he hadn't been able to buy her a gift. How sweet is that? Oz took him through the mall, and M1 found this:

He wanted to give that to her because she loves art and she's one of his best friends. *I* almost cried when he gave it to her, and she gave him a huge hug in thanks. They really are close for siblings who are so different in so many ways. I never was close to my sister as a child (my fault), and it's heartwarming.

After M1 presented his gift, both kids wanted to go outside. A few minutes later, they came back in and told me they had started getting the garden ready for me. Garden? Honestly, I had given up the idea of having a garden this year because it wasn't fenced and I knew marauding poultry would eat anything I planted. But the kids were weeding it and digging up the soil and getting everything ready to be planted. Even Oz fell under their spell.

I now have chicken wire running around my garden, and it's nearly all dug out.

My heart is so full of love for my amazing family. I can only hope that I can live up to the standards they're setting. How else can I deserve to be called "Mom?"

The Horse Lady

Every once in a while, I refer to The Horse Lady. I think it's time to introduce her properly. After all, I've been blogging for how long? Oh, OK, let's be honest, I don't keep track of things like that. I barely remember my own anniversary sometimes (sorry, dear... I know I'm the bad one in our relationship). Thankfully I have a back-up anniversary if I really do forget. Long story. I digress.

I hereby introduce K, aka The Horse Lady.

That's my back yard; that's her horse. That's actually the "baby" horse. He's 2. His name is Ace. He's kind of a turd, as 2-year-olds often are. I'm sure many of you can relate. K is trying to work on his stubborn streak, but he's a tad mulish. It must come from his father's side. How do I know?

Because K owns Mama Horse, too. Her name is Cherokee, and she's the sweetest horse ever. She's so steady, I'd trust my kids to run around her without any fear whatsoever. Not that they DO, but they COULD. Cherokee is K's baby now that her own kids are grown and have babies of their own.


She loves Cherokee the best. No mistaking her favorite at all.



Even though Ace likes to butt in now and then for extra lovin' of his own.

The Horse Lady. Animal Lover Extraordinaire. Housesitter (when I'm out of town). Surrogate Grandmother (she claims my kids and has known both of them since before birth, so I can't deny her that).

All in all, I'm happy to know her and to have her horses in my yard. They sort of came with the house, and I've never regretted it!

Spring Moments

I was inspired to break out the camera today. It's been so long since I've posted any photos, and I was feeling the emptiness. I still only have a point-and-shoot camera, I've never taken a photography class, and, well, I've never used Photoshop in my life. So these are what they are. They are spring, in all its unedited glory. Enjoy.

Gorgeous Sunday post

Here are some random thoughts for a gorgeous, sunny Sunday.

1. A roll of toilet paper can last an entire week if Oz is gone.

2. I can sleep with four cats and not realize it until I wake up and can't move because the bedspread is pinned down in all directions.

3. One good day in the sun brings my skin color back to the same shade as my foundation. This is good.

4. Geese are remarkably talkative. We had nine of them stop by yesterday after a small thunderstorm. They said hello. And a lot of other things. Some of them are not repeatable. I know they're not repeatable because nobody says polite things while hissing and chasing someone while trying to bite their neck.

5. My husband is the self-proclaimed King of Tacky T-shirts. His latest one is this. At 6'8" tall, nobody has taken the dare yet. Except me. Repeatedly.

6. My baby girl is getting freckles. They're really, really tiny and really, really cute.

7. Watching anything with Charlie Sheen in it is hilarious now that he's such a "winning" person. I highly recommend the original "Wall Street" for a great laugh. It was a good movie, anyway.

8. The second Borders in our town has been added to the hit list. This particular Borders has been a haven for me during lots of crises. I am going to cry. And then I'm going to have to see if I can have one last coffee with friends there before it shuts.

9. Bruises and unwounded skin are fighting a battle for control of my son's limbs. It's a close contest. The best(?) part is that he has no idea how 98% of the bruises happened.

10. The kids have decided they NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED one of these. M2 has volunteered to pay for it. He even factored in shipping. Oz and I are pondering where to hang it.

Enjoy the weather!

Spring Break, Round One

The first week of Spring Break is officially over. It's amazing how quickly it flew by. It's been amazing. I'm so glad I get to spend these days with my kids.

Yesterday we ran errands and bought summerish things like flip-flops, swimsuits, and sunglasses. Of course, that meant it turned colder today. Not that M2 noticed. She woke up and put on a tank top and skirt. Girl doesn't have a 'cold' setting.

Since we were inside, we cleaned the house, took down the St. Paddy's Day decorations and put up Easter, and just played. The kids invented games to play together, and I got to laugh hysterically at the differences in their ideas of fun.

M1 invented a game first. He brought out his cars and pretended they were all bombers. The goal of the game, which was in fact a competition, was to bomb the crap out of your opponent's 'bombers' before they bombed yours. M2 got very upset for two reasons: 1) M1 wasn't playing fair (and he wasn't, and I took care of it), and 2) M1 kept bombing the Red Cross truck. How do you explain the idea of war crimes to an 8-year-old? I let that one slide. They worked it out. Mostly M1 handed the truck to M2 and let her hide it in her bunker.

Then M2 had a turn. She broke out her mermaids and Strawberry Shortcake and Barbie and, just for M1, a shark, because he refused to play a girl part with a high voice like M2 had originally wanted. The shark was supposed to be hunting for food and treasure in the lagoon where the mermaids and Strawberry lived. Barbie only got to participate for a few minutes before she got tossed aside. My daughter is not a Barbie girl. It was really funny, though, when M1 got completely confused by the fact that his shark wasn't allowed to eat the mermaids. And when the shark turned out to be the mermaids' brother and had to talk about emotions... well... it was all I could do to keep a straight face. I tried to record it on video for teenage blackmail purposes, but M1 heard the ding of the camera and froze in place until I turned it off.

M1 had a rather difficult day, all told. Besides having to be fair (heaven forbid), I had to spend a good chunk of the day working out ways to keep him occupado, because - God love him - the boy is my child through and through. If his hands aren't kept busy, they find a way to pester his sister. If she walked through a doorway and he was near it, he felt the need to block it. If she was helping me and he was in between jobs, he'd find a way to distract her. He found a bar magnet of hers today and wanted to return it, but he couldn't just give it back. Oh, no. He had to stick it down the back of her skirt. At bedtime (before I caught him trying to fill a glass test tube - with a huge chip gone - with water to conduct post-bedtime experiments in his room), I sat him down and cuddled him and told him the story of a girl who was terribly mean to her sister and had a hard time learning to control herself. He worked out very quickly that the mean girl was me, and I think he was reassured that we're alike that way. Oz wasn't mean to his brothers, and I think sometimes M1 feels very alone when he gets in trouble. M2 likes to pester, too, but she prefers me as her subject, which makes it easier to handle most of the time. It's hard not to make the kids feel like I have favorites. I'm sure no parent masters it.

All in all, though, I think the first week of Spring Break has been a success. One more to go, with M2's birthday in it. It's gonna be another wild ride!

Small Talk

M1 cracks me up with his bluntness sometimes. He embarrasses me at others. Sometimes he manages to do both at once.

We've been struggling lately with the idea of small talk. For example, when we went to a store to get him some inserts for his tennis shoes, the young salesman there introduced himself first to me and then to M1.

"And what's your name?" he asked M1.

M1 froze. Literally. Then he choked out his name and breathed a huge sigh of relief. He'd gotten through an introduction successfully. He usually does. Those are pretty well scripted, so he can manage them. But then the salesman asked M1 his shoe size.

Insert gaping mouth and frozen eyes.

"Seven," I answered a few seconds later, saving M1 from having to try to respond to a question he didn't have in his mental script.

The guy nodded. He got the insert. He came back, and M1 found his voice. "My feet are huge. My mom calls me a moose. I'm only eight years old, but I wear a men's size 7. I'm tall for my age, too, and my daddy was tall for his age, but he wasn't as tall as me. He was never the tallest in his class until he was a teenager."

"Oh yeah?" the guy asked, genuinely trying to feign interest. I gave him big kudos for that.

"Yeah, my mom has pictures, and they show that my dad was only the third or fourth tallest in his class. I'm going to be tall like my dad someday, maybe taller, but my mom doesn't want me to be taller than him because our doorways aren't tall enough, and we have ceiling fans, too. My dad is 6'8". My sister's tall, too. She's only five and she's four feet tall. Someday she'll be taller than my mom, and so will I. My mom's going to be the shrimp in the family."

By this time, the poor salesman has the inserts into M1's shoes and has been trying to get a word in edgewise for about 15 seconds to ask him to stand and see how they feel, but it's hard to stop M1 when he gets his lecture on.

And this is a typical exchange. Most of the dialogue I've written above has come from things that either A) M1 has heard me say to friends or other folks a few times or B) a well-worn script that M1 has developed over the years on his own.

We talked about it after we left the store, and M1 admitted that he totally freezes when he has to talk to anyone he doesn't know very well. He also admitted that he doesn't understand when other people want to talk. And as for the notion of choosing a subject? Fugettaboutit.

This has left me with the parent-of-an-ASD-child dilemma of having to explain the entire concept of small talk to an 8-year-old boy who has NO CLUE.

I went at it a bit backward first, trying to skip straight to 'safe' subjects and using short sentences and things like that. But I'm am realizing that the REAL first step is to get M1 to create 'social circles' in his head. His inner or "first" circle has to be his family, immediate and secondary, and maybe a few close friends, though we might have to tweak that circle a bit, too, eventually. More on that later. But those of us in the first circle are the ones who are used to him, accept him as he is, and aren't in the least bit bugged when he starts lecturing or when he freezes. We don't notice the difference!

The second circle are people who have met him more than once and whom we know and trust. These would be people in the mom's group, people in our homeschool group, etc. In other words, people who aren't strangers, but they might find some of his statements or actions a bit off sometimes. Not all the time, because all kids are weird sometimes, but once in a while you just get the 'weird' vibe. It happens.

The third circle includes strangers. Cashiers, salespeople, random folks in stores... all the people with whom one normally doesn't share the intimate details of your life/day/shoe size. Normally.

After the circles are established, THEN I can work within those parameters to create safe subjects and introduce the notion of not jumping from topic to topic or launching into a speech with no preamble whatsoever. The entire process is truly like programming a computer, only with a few extra lines of code in there that constitute human emotion and DNA.

Clearly I have my work cut out for me. And this is only the tip of the iceberg. Once we get all this done, then I've got to hint at the idea of circles within circles. For example, my grandmother is one who needs to fall somewhere on the cusp of Circles 1 and 2.

Why?

When we went to visit her, M1 was talking to her and she asked him how Sunday School was going. My grandmother is a very religious Lutheran woman. It's just who she is, how she was raised, how she has lived, and how she will die. My mother has yet to tell her she's not attending a Lutheran church, and nobody wants to burst that particular bubble, because it won't be pretty. So when Grandma asked about Sunday School, my insides hit the roof and I mentally screamed, "NOOOOOOO!!!!"

Quoth M1: "Well, my mom's not really a churchy person sometimes, so we haven't been going. I go with my Nana sometimes, though, and it's fun."

*headthwack*

I spent the next 10 minutes running damage control and attempting to soften the tractor beam of a glare that had directed itself at me.

Then, as we were leaving, my grandmother was hugging the kids goodbye and told them, "Come back and see me again soon."

Quoth M1: "Okay, but don't die first."

That one... well, that one just makes me laugh hysterically.

Small talk. Not such a small subject after all.

Spring Break Fatigue

I. Am. Tired. I am typing this and going to bed. It's 8:49 p.m. Last night I was in bed by 9, too, though I didn't flip the light off till about 10:30 because Oz gave me his Kindle since he got an iPad 2 and I downloaded Tom Clancy's "Without Remorse" and had the stupidity to pick it up to read "a few words." Anyway, I don't plan to read tonight. The last two days have been long. Good, just really looooooooooooooong.

Two nights ago I caught a bad case of insomnia. The kids had experienced it, too, and I had to tell them both to turn their lamps off at 10. I went to bed at midnight, like a good girl and like I usually do. At 12:30 I gave up, got up and read the Kindle till 1. At 1 I decided to try to sleep again. At 1:45 I got up and puttered on the computer till 2:15. At 2:30 my bladder announced its presence. At 2:45 I finally felt tired, checked my watch so I'd know if a significant amount of time passed before I surfaced again, and fell asleep.

The kids woke me up at 5:15. The Waking of the Mommy wasn't deliberate, but M1 had woken, gone and gotten M2 up, and they had subsequently trashed his room and were giggling like hyenas. I went a little Vesuvius. They went back to their beds, and I to mine, till my alarm went off at 6:48. I hit snooze repeatedly till 7:15 and then realized that if I wanted to leave the house by 8:30, I needed to rise and make a half-hearted attempt to shine... all the way to the coffee pot. The kids were nowhere to be seen. I had to wake them at 7:45. I was jealous. But I got them up and around and fed and in the car, and off we went to visit my grandmother in Kansas. It was a two-hour drive up. We visited. It was lovely. She fixed the following food for lunch:

Cornflake-coated oven-fried chicken
Green beans with bacon
Cole slaw
Macaroni and cheese
Pickles
Lime Jell-O salad with pears and marshmallows
Biscuits

She decided that since we had macaroni and cheese, she didn't need to fix potatoes. I concurred.

And this was all NOT including dessert, which we had later, and which consisted of pineapple upside-down cake, snickerdoodles, and grapes. That's right. Dessert had courses. The kids and I didn't eat supper last night. She has enough leftovers to feed herself for the next week. And I brought home the mac 'n' cheese and the rest of the cake and some of the cookies, since she's technically on a gluten-free diet.

Anyway, we took the kids to the park, wore them out thoroughly, and then I made the two-hour trek back home. I'm sure my grandmother went straight to bed. She had a lot less energy this time than she did even six months ago. It's worrying.

As I said, last night I was out like a light by 10:30, which is saying something for a woman who never goes to bed at that time without a migraine or some other medical cause. Time change + one night of insomnia = Apparent Sleep Problems. This morning I got up when M2 woke me up around 8:45. I fed the kids upside-down cake and a hard-boiled egg for breakfast (What? Cake is awesome breakfast food, right??), puttered around and did some chores, and then we went to a friend's house. She had invited several people over to play. She lives on a lake in the area, and so after lunch, we all went down to the shoreline. The kids played and played and played. We adults sat and talked. We all baked in the sun, and most of us came away with a little sunburn. M1 also has about a dozen scratches in various places, all of which he can locate due to a strong sense of pain but most of which he can't identify a source for. The drama is amusing.

After we left, I assessed our plans. We were supposed to have done our grocery shopping today, but yeah... soooo didn't happen. We came home, the kids voluntarily took showers and changed into pajamas, and we oozed on the couch watching the original Scooby-Doo cartoons till the frozen pizza was done cooking. Bed was at 7 for anyone under the age of Me. M1 claimed to have "so much energy," but I haven't heard a peep out of him since about 7:15. M2 just got up and came to me crying, sound asleep, something she hasn't done for about a year and a half.

I was going to take them to a museum tomorrow, but I think that instead we'll hit up the grocery store, maybe run to a clothing store to get M2 some summer pajamas, maybe go to a bakery and pick up carbohydrate-loaded treats, and otherwise recover from the past two days.

Spring Break is exhausting! G'night, everyone!