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I've started a new blog called "The Clothesline." Check it out at http://theclothesline-cathy.blogspot.com/

An Unexpected Gift

Whenever Ethan and I meet someone, I usually have to tell him, "Can you say hi, Ethan?" It happens so frequently, the words spill out of my mouth before I realize it. "Say hi, Ethan." He'll usually mumble hi, and look away.
Poor social skills such as these are a hallmark trait of autism. Temple Grandin, a woman with autism who has a doctorate degree and often speaks at autism conferences, says she has a difficult time socializing because she can't interpret people's facial expressions or follow the usual give and take of a conversation. It has taken much practice and self-awareness for her to develop skills that are inherent for most people.
Ethan's social deficiencies are a deep source of worry for me, which is why I constantly tell him to say hello. I had no idea Ehtan actually appreciated my nagging until today at his Mother's Day school recital. One by one the kids held up a laminated picture with a typed sentence on it saying why their moms are special. When it was Ethan's turn, he held the sign up and said, "My mom is special because when I'm shy she she stays behind me and says hi." He drew a picture of me standing behind him, facing another little boy he wants to talk to.
I could barely hold back the tears when he then walked up to me and hugged me. It was one of those moments when I felt profoundly grateful for being a mom.

Haiku Friday

Coffee
Oily brown beans
Blur into dust
As steam hisses.

Water and powder
Gurgle together to
Spark my day.

I really needed coffee this morning--that's all I could think about. Do you haiku? Find out more here: http://playgroupsarenoplaceforchildren.com/

What's an Eco-Carnivore to Do?

Just another day of bovine bliss at the Bowen family farm in Kentucky.

The other day I found an article on Yahoo titled, "How to Fight Global Warming at Dinner." It described a new study conducted by Christopher L. Weber and H. Scott Matthews at Carnegie Mellon University, which concluded that substituting chicken, fish or vegetables for red meat can help combat climate change.

The study stated that eating these foods does more to reduce carbon emissions than eating locally grown foods. The production phase is responsible for 83% of the average U.S. household's greenhouse-gas burden for food, while transportation accounts for only 11%, the study found. In addition, the production of red meat emits almost 150% more greenhouse gases than chicken or fish.

I told my husband Terry about the study, and he snorted. "Who was it written by, a bunch of PETA freaks?" he asked. "I'm so tired of these fanatics trying to get the whole world to go vegetarian when people have been raising animals to eat for thousands of years."

Actually, the study wasn't written by PETA freaks. It suggests only giving up one red meat meal a week, not going vegan. But Terry has a right to be testy. He grew up on 60-acre farm in Kentucky where his father raises a small herd of beef cattle. In fact, after growing all kinds of vegetables and raising chicken and hogs over the years, now his father only raises beef cattle because it takes the least amount of resources. The cows wander around the farm, munching grass and drinking water from the pond. When the steers get to be a certain size, he auctions them off to, unfortunately, a feed lot where they get fattened up for the slaughter house.

Sending the steers to the auction house is where the system breaks down, in my opionion. Industrialized farming may be the way to keep fast food chains and grocery stores awash in cheap beef, but it is ruining our environment. I logged onto Green Your's web site to look for ways to satisfy my carnivorous self, as well as be environmentally responsible. It said to buy local, organic, grass-fed meat.

Okay, maybe there's some farmer like Terry's dad whom I can buy meat from. I went on a web site called Local Harvest, which lists organic farms throughout the country. I typed in my zip code, and browsed through the listing of farms in my area--there were plenty of vegetable and fruit farms with chickens, but where was the beef? The only farm I could find raised bison, which makes sense since bison could survive Colorado's dry prairieland better than cows could. My other option was to order grass-fed beef online from a farm in Missouri called American Grass Fed Beef. I clicked on the photo of ground beef to see the price: 10 pounds for $86!!

Why does being environmentally responsible have to be so expensive? I guess the cheapest alternative for my family really is to eat more meat-free meals, which is a big adjustment to my "meat-every-night" lifestyle. But when you think about it, our ancestors probably didn't eat meat every night, either. They saved the "fatted calf" for special occasions, like appeasing the gods.

Hollywood Is Calling

My son, Ethan, has a future in Hollywood ... as a sound effects person. He loves to add realistic sound effects during his pretend play. When Ethan was 4 years old, he was obsessed with garbage trucks, and would wait by the window for the truck to pick up our trash. After it left, he would get out his blue plastic truck and blocks. He loaded blocks into the bin and dumped them into the truck, making the beeping noise trucks make to warn people that the machinery is in motion.

One time Ethan got too loud with his dumping sequence, and I told him to quiet down. "But Mommy," he said. "I can't. This is loud garbage."

Now Ethan is 6 years old and, as the video attests, his sound effects are much more refined. He loves to act out scenarios in which the big T-Rexes attack the smaller dinosaurs. Often the T-Rexes have babies the "mommy" and "daddy" protect. The squeaking sounds you hear in the video are the babies talking to their parents, and the gutteral noises are the grown-up dinosaurs responding.

Like I said, it's a gift.

The Combo Gift

The picture above shows Molly drinking from my Mother's Day gift. I thought it would be a good photo for "Weekly Winners," in which bloggers send photos they've taken during the week to sarcasticmom.com. For information, click http://sarcasticmom.com/?page_id=137.

My dear, ever-practical husband. He's the only person I know who would combine my Mother's Day gift with a water bowl for our cat Molly.
What did he get me? Why, a Homedics tranquility fountain, of course. Not only would the sound of tinkling water chill me out while I'm on the computer, it would serve as a water fountain for our ever-thirsty cat (see previous post, "What Do a Cat and a Snail Have in Common?").
"I looked for one of those pet water fountains at Wal-Mart, but they didn't have one," he said. "So then I saw one of these for $20, and thought it would do." Thanks for the details, honey.
Seriously, though, I do like the fountain. The sound of the water is pleasant to listen to, plus it keeps Molly from terrorizing me. Before the fountain, every time I walked into our bathroom, she would bolt onto the sink and meow for me to turn on the faucet. "I'm not going to waste a gallon of water so you can get a couple of sips," I tell her. "Meeooww," she replies. Preserving the environment is not one of her priorities.
My husband's gift-giving technique may be blunderous, but I wouldn't want him to change. What he lacks in finesse is more than made up for in the thought and care he puts into each gift.

Family Outings Really Can Be Fun

Once upon a time, in my work life, I went to many Chicago Cubs and White Sox baseball games. Some were through my husband's work, and some were essentially press junkets through my editing jobs at various trade magazines. Then I had Ethan, quit my job, and the free Major League baseball tickets disappeared.

Until this past weekend. Terry got four tickets from his boss to see the Colorado Rockies play the Dodgers this past Saturday at Coors Field. At first he tried to get some friends together to see the game, but everyone had plans. So, gulp, instead of waste the tickets, we decided to take the kids.

For many families, taking 6-year-old and 3-year-old boys to a ball game would be a no brainer. But our kids' hyperactivity and sensitivities to crowds, noise and new situations make going to a crowded baseball stadium a minefield. It was a total crapshoot as to whether Ethan or James would stay in their seats and enjoy the game, or get overwelmed by the crowds and the noise and have huge meltdowns.

But, we figured, we got free tickets--it's not a huge loss if we drive 30 minutes down to Coors Field only to get back in the car and drive home.

So off we go to Coors Field. The weather was in our favor--it's a mild spring evening. We find parking and walk up to the stadium. We get past security, get a bag of peanuts for the kids and find our seats.

We knew our seats were good, but not this good--we're in the second row overlooking the Rockies dugout. I've never had seats this good. The baseball field shined like an emerald in the early evening light. I got a beer and took in the sights and sounds of the stadium--the lights, the music, the people joined in the common cause of seeing the Rockies win. I get my mind off of my kids, their developmental delays, our therapy bills, our problems of everyday family life. Please, I think, let my kids cooperate so we can watch this game.

It turns out my kids were as taken by the atmosphere as I was. They relaxed in their seats and focused on breaking up the peanut shells to extract the nuts. Ethan, whom loves loud music, clapped enthusiastically to every rock song played during the game. When Matt Holliday hit a home run and the crowd cheered, Ethan and James broke into smiles and clapped along with them.

The magic lasted about five innings. Then Ethan and James started getting tired and bored, and we knew it was time to go. As Terry and I walked to our car, our kids in tow, we felt so grateful that this effort wasn't a waste of time. Better yet, if Terry got tickets to another game, we could confidently take the kids on a fun outing for all of us.

Haiku Friday

The dorky English major in me very excited about Haiku Friday. Here is my first attempt:




Swinging
Hands grip chains
Smiling at the grass
Feet touch the sky.

Anyway, it was nice to use the creative part of my brain today.

Facing My Insect Phobia

I've always have had an aversion to insects. You name them--ants, spiders, flies, worms--I can't stand looking at them. I can deal with the "pretty" bugs, like lady bugs and butterflies, from a distance, but no close-ups of their beady eyes and waving antenni, please. I don't mean them any harm, I just don't want to look at them.
So imagine my apprehension when my kids ask to go to our suburb's insect zoo. It's called the Butterfly Pavillion, which connotes dreamy visions of fanstically colored butterflies poised on flowers. But that's only half of it--the other half is filled with creepy crawlies, like spiders, cockroaches and gigantic centipedes. Plus, there's a tarantula named Rosie you can hold in your hand. OMG!!!
This insect room is the first room we enter. I stand in the middle of it, as far from the displays of insects as possible. The terrifying part is that these bugs are so huge, I can still see them pretty clearly. The picture below shows my boys and my friend's daughter checking out a display of giant cockroaches. I did not need to know that cockroaches get that big.



The worst display in that room is called "Tarantula Tower." It has glass aquariums stacked on top each other, each inhabited with one horror-invoking arachnid after another. There's one that takes my breath away--it has to be at least 10 inches across. I can see individual hairs on its body.
Of course, Ethan presses his face against its glass home. "Why are the spiders in cages?" he asks. "Because if they weren't they could bite you and kill you," I say. Probably not the best answer, but I'm feeling quite queasy at this point and need to get out of here.
Thankfully, the kids have had their fill, and we move onto the butterfly room, which is miniature tropical rain forest filled with butterflies of every hue. Here is a picture of one Ethan took.

This is definitely more my speed. I breathe in the moist, oxygen-enhanced air and begin to relax. All the butterflies keep their distance, and I can just enjoy the pretty colors. If I had not have had kids, I would have never bothered to visit the Butterfly Pavillion. But that's the beauty of becoming a mom--you face fears would have never done on your own.

Kids Instantly Devalue Your Car

http://www.eatplaylove.blogspot.com/ put up a great challenge--ridding your car of junk so it uses less gas. Fortunately, my car doesn't have a lot of big stuff, like strollers. It just has lots of little stuff that doesn't weigh a lot, but just makes it look bad.
Here is an example: the front passenger seat is where I pile all my bags that I need to get through the day: my purse; a backpack filled with extra clothes, wipes and diapers; Ethan's school backpack; a lunch bag in case we need to eat on the go (more on that later). At the end of the day, I try to pull everything out, but don't always succeed.

The back seat is filled with toys to occupy the impatient boys during car rides. They both like to draw and color, so there are lots of Color Wonder coloring books and markers. Magna Doodles are another popular drawing toy. I try to have two of the same type so they don't fight over them. Since I drive a mid-size car (Toyota Matrix), my kids can easily reach out from their car seats and pummel each other over a toy.
Finally, as the pictures show, our car is filled with crumbs, crumbs, food wrappers, and more crumbs. I've found it easier to just eat lunch in the car at times than stop at McDonald's or a park and deal with the transitions of getting them out of the car and back into the car. But my poor car has paid dearly for it--even when I vacuum it regularly, there are stains that will never go away.
Good thing I like my car, because I would have to give it away after what my kids have put it through.

What Do a Snail And a Cat Have In Common?

We don't get the Cartoon Network in our household, so my kids have never been exposed to "Spongebob Squarepants." Yet, at the library a few months ago, James walked up to me with a "Spongebob Squarepants" video. "Let's get Spongebob," he said. Where he found out about Spongebob, I'll never know.
So started our family's love affair with the cartoon. I started half watching it with the kids, soon found myself laughing out loud to it. Not only did I find it funny, I could totally relate to the characters. Patrick reminds me of my kids, and Spongebob Squarepants reminds me of myself. And Gary the Snail is a complete knockoff of my cat, Molly.
Like Gary, Molly is a very coy, demure creature. She only weighs 8 pounds--she looks more like a kitten than a 13-year-old cat. I call her my model--she takes very good care of herself by drinking lots of water, eating very little, and getting lots of sleep. She's very skittish and stays far away from my rambunctious boys. My husband hates her, and she knows it, so she stays far away from him as well. So the only person she interacts with is me. She follows me around the house, meowing. She usually wants something from me, like, "Meow--open the window." Or "Meow--turn on the faucet so I can get a drink of water." (I don't do that anymore now that I'm more environmentally conscious.) Her meow is a dead ringer for Gary's. It's very calm and convincing: "Meow--you will do my bidding."
In one episode of Spongebob, Gary latches onto Patrick. Spongebob goes along with it at first, but after one day of Gary being out of the house, he starts to lose it because he misses Gary so much. Finally, after much heartbreak, Spongebob figures out Gary doesn't really like Patrick, he just wants the cookie in his pocket. The video ends with Spongebob happily getting Gary back in his life, but Gary never lets on whether he really missed Spongebob or not.
That's the dilemma all cat lovers face--do their cats really love them, or do they just put with their owners so that they can live a more comfortable life? As painful as it is to think that the latter reason may be true, their meow is a siren song their owners can't deny.

Flower Fest

The warm weather is bringing out the best in nature--lots of beautiful blooms. Here are some flowers in my garden:



I love tulips--their vibrant colors are an instant pick-me-up.



We covered these grape hyathinths with rocks to make a border along our driveway, and they still managed to defiantly pop through.




Our crab apple tree is the crowning jewel of our back yard in the spring. The pink buds open and turn into snowy white flowers before the petals flutter off the tree.

Now it's your turn. Send me a link of your site with pictures of your garden in bloom, and I'll post the link here.




Happy Spring!

Dear Albatross, This One Is For You

What started out as a quiz-taking venture on http://kdmacphee.blogspot.com/ has turned into a non-stop quest for more information on living a greener life. I always thought I was pretty green, but information I've gleaned from searching web sites like "green your" and "treehugger" has made me realize there is more I can do that doesn't cost that much money. More importantly, I see now how it is vital to take every action I can--the earth and its creatures depend on it.

A National Geographic special I watched on PBS this week drove this point home. The show, called "Strange Days on Planet Earth: Dirty Secrets," followed scientists trying to figure out why albatrosses chicks are starving to death. It showed the mother birds dutifully feeding their chicks, but eventually the chicks would die. Autopsies of the chicks showed the reason--their stomachs were crammed with bits of plastic that couldn't be digested. It turns out there's so much plastic floating about in the Pacific Ocean, albatrosses fatally mistake it for food.

This story really got to me. I recycle what plastic I can, but end up throwing away a number of plastic bags and wrappers. I had an "out of sight, out of mind" attitude about it until I saw those poor birds.

Of course, it's impossible to completely eliminate plastic from my life--most food from the store is wrapped in it. But there's one simple thing I can do, as http://eatplaylove.blogspot.com/ has mentioned: bring my own bags to the store. That would eliminate countless plastic bags from entering my household and eventually ending up in the trash.

My resolve was tested this morning when I forgot to bring my bag to Safeway. As the cashier starting putting the items in the plastic bag, it hit me. "I don't need the bag," I said. It was only four items, after all. The cashier gave me a strange look, but that's ok. I now know what can happen to those bags after they leave the store.

Happy Earth Day

Here are my Earth Day resolutions:
1. Start buying biodegrable healthcare and cleaning products.
2. Eat two meat-free dinners a week.
3. Use both sides of printer paper. I'll either run it through my printer, or let Ethan used it as drawing paper. Also, I've started saving paper from junk mail that is only printed on one side for this purpose.
4. Instead of pouring water from cups down the drain, water my garden with it.
5. Fill a small cup with water and use that to brush my teeth with instead turning on the faucet.
6. Turn the water off in the shower while I'm soaping up.
7. Try to buy as much organic food as possible.

Hopefully I'll have an easier time keeping these resolutions than my New Year's ones.

Ecomania

One day last week, I was home sick with a head cold, so I had more time that day to waste on the computer. I decided to look up more eco-friendly tips on the Green Your web site.

As I mentioned in my last post, I saw a couple stories about cleaning and beauty products containing high amounts of toxins that aren't good for you or the environment. I wanted to read up on that further, mainly because I'm a skin care products junkie. What I saw really depressed me. It said most products contain petroleum-based derivatives. I don't want a nonrenewable resource in my skin care products. It also said many products contain parabens, which contaminate water and soil. I got out my bottle of lemon and sage soapy sap from Bliss Spas. Sure enough, it had four different kinds of parabens. Where was the lemon and the sage? This stuff costs $35 a bottle! I felt duped by all those Bliss catalogs I got in the mail, insinuating that if you don't use its products, I'm going to get fat and wrinkly very quickly. It fails to mention the potentional carcinogenics that I'm self-preserving myself with. I promised from then on to never buy beauty products that I don't know what's in.

I moved on to the cleaning products section. Once again, I was floored with what I read. All I used to care about was getting stains out clothes, and used lots of toxic chemicals, such as chlorine bleach, to do so. I never realized that after these chemicals left my washing machine, they entered our ground water, polluting our waterways. I vowed to buy biodegradable detergent and cleaners. The problem is, thanks to Costco, I have a stockpile of toxic laundry detergents and house-cleaning products that I don't know what to do with.

I realize that the only person this information is groundbreaking to is me. In fact, I've heard some of this stuff before, but my protected suburban life kept me from taking it very seriously. I go to a park and it's green with lots of trees and flowers. Where's all the dead, deformed wildlife, and murky, smelly streams and ponds? But after eight years of being lied to by our current administration, I've lost a lot of faith in government, as well as corporate America. I agree with Michael Moore, who said in an email this today: "... I can't stand one more friggin' minute of this administration and the permanent, irreversible damage it has done to our people and to this world. I'm almost at the point where I don't care if the Democrats don't have a backbone or a kneebone or a thought in their dizzy little heads. Just as long as their name ain't "Bush" and the word "Republican" is not beside theirs on the ballot, then that's good enough for me. "

Amen, Michael!! For me, I can't reverse this horrible war that our fearless leader has gotten us into. All I can do is eliminate the use of petrochemical products as much as possible out of my life. I also can make my own private stand against harming the environment and all that depends on it.

Let's Get Greener

Recently, a friend told me about a web site that determines your "green IQ." The web site is http://www.greeniq.com/about-us/. I got a 62, which isn't horrible, but still has room for improvement. I felt frustrated because I can't afford to be totally green. It's too expensive for our family to buy all organic, replace our windows, install solar panels and buy a hybrid car. So I decided to look up tips for greening my life that don't cost money. I found a great web site called Green Your.com http://www.greenyour.com/. It provides tips for improving the environment in every aspect of your life, from feminine hygiene to solar panels. I haven't read through the whole site, but got a lot from a quick overview. For instance, I didn't know that daily water usage in the typical single family home is 69.3 gallons, with showers accounting for 16.8 percent of total indoor water use. The site recommends buying low-flow shower heads--something we need to do in the future--but in the mean time it suggests just turning off the water while your soaping up. I tried it this morning, and it wasn't bad--I thought I'd be too cold, but I was fine.

The site also suggests making your own facial cleanser, as well as cleaning supplies. I never really thought about how I'm polluting our water supply with toxic chemicals every time I clean our house--as well as my face. It's definitely something I'm going to look into.

Incorporating these tips into my life gets me excited--I feel like I'm doing something to take care of what's precious to me: preserving our beautiful world all of us to enjoy for the future.

The Juggling Act

I couldn't wait for this past Saturday to arrive because I had a hot date with a doctor--a RugDoctor steam cleaner, that is.



I couldn't wait to steam clean the carpets for a couple reasons, the biggest one being that my husband would have to take Ethan and James out of the house for several hours so I could get the job done. Finally, some alone time!



It must sound pathetic that the only way I can get some time away from the kids is to do a big chore like steam clean the carpets. And that's really not true. Terry is pretty good about watching the kids so I can go on a hike, go out to dinner with friends or go scrapbooking. No, the biggest reason I was so excited to pull a 70-lb vacuum across our carpet was that without the kids around, I could complete this task with no interruptions.



Trying to get stuff done while constantly being interrupted by my children has been one of the hardest aspects of parenting for me. My life became a juggling act as soon as Ethan was born--fold a couple of pieces of clothing, then pick up him up to nurse. Or stir the pot on the stove with one hand as I held a whimpering James. Or drive down the highway and change the music on the radio and pass back the sippy cups to irate Ethan and James--all at the same time.



I've found myself letting my kids get away with stuff just so I could get something done. The other day, for example, I had a quiet moment, so I tried to download some new music on my iPod. I just got the iPod connected to the computer and began downloading the CD when Ethan and James found me. Ethan got on our other computer while the CD is still downloading and wanted to draw pictures in the Microsoft Paint Program. Here we go, I thought. After a few moments he yelled, "Mommy, help me save this picture!" I stop everything to hit "save as" on his computer. Then he lost interest in drawing, and found some rubber bands in the desk drawer. "Hey James," he said, "Let's cut up these rubber bands with these scissors!" Uh oh, not a good idea, but the CD was taking forever to download and I didn't want to start all over again another time. Soon bits of rubber were all over the floor. My blood pressure started to increase wondering if they would start a sword fight with the scissors. Finally, the CD is done, and I grab the scissors out of their hands. "That's not a good idea," I said. "But Mommy, you were letting us do it before!" I sheepishly put the scissors away, thinking I should have downloaded the music after Ethan and James were in bed.



But this past Saturday, I did not have to make any guilty justifications to get something done. I cheerfully waved to Terry and the kids as they left the house, put on my iPod, and got to work. After five hours of non-stop vacuuming, my back was killing me, but my floors were clean. This was the first time I got something done in years without hearing a chorus of "Mommy! Mommy!"



Of course, as soon as Ethan and James entered the house, it started all over again. "Mommy, I want a snack!" I tell them to not eat on the newly cleaned carpet as they begin to walk on it holding their bowls of cereal. Bits of crackers and crumbs soon found their way into the carpeting. That's OK--it gives me the excuse to make a date with the "doctor" again in a few months.

Living the Green Life

When Bush was re-elected in 2004, I was morose. I voted against him, my husband even helped out with the Kerry/Edwards campaign. I hated the direction he led the country, and felt like I couldn't do anything about it. I was knee-deep taking care of Ethan, and James was on the way.

One of the many issues I was depressed about was global warming. Scientists around the globe gave grim predictions of the future if we didn't address global warming, and yet our country thumbed our nose at them. It was enough to make me turn off the TV, stop reading the news in magazines and on the Internet. If all this bad stuff was happening around the world, I didn't want to know about it.

Then, a couple of years later, I came across the Eco-Cycle Web site. Eco-Cycle manages local recycling areas, allowing you to drop off cans, bottles, cardboard, even paperboard. I realized our neighboring suburb had a drop-off site, and I downloaded the list of items you could recycle: paperboard, cardboard, plastics 1, 2, and 5, cans, aluminum, magazines, even telephone books. Our garbage collector took some recycling, like cans, bottles and paper, but not paperboard or cardboard. So I began sorting our trash, putting aside all the paperboard and cardboard, juice boxes, etc. Since we also compost, I was amazed how little trash we had for the collector.

I made my first trip to the recycling site with all my saved, sorted stuff. My husband, who believes in recycling, still wasn't very encouraging. "The gas you're wasting driving over there offsets the benefits of recyling this stuff," he said. I didn't care. Walking my tubs of paperboard over to the giant recycling bins and dumping the stuff in left me feeling empowered for the first time in years. I may not have the time, energy, money or brains to take on our corrupt government and turn our country in the right direction, but hey, I could recycle! As a stay-at-home mom, I had the time to sort every piece of paper, including tags on clothing, and put them in the appropriate bins. I could keep the juice box containers and Happy Meal paperboard boxes I get from McDonald's and recycle them. The high I got from recycling helped me stave off the depression I felt from picturing my kids as adults, living on a planet with melted polar ice caps and California and Florida submerged in the ocean.

Since that epiphany, my recycling/living green endeavors have expanded. Last summer I began hanging my clothes up to dry. Realizing how quickly they dried in the hot Colorado sun, I made an effort to never use the dryer during warm, dry days. The money I saved on my electric bill was an added bonus.

I also started reselling and buying kids' clothes from consignment stores. It always bugged me to buy new clothes and toys for babies and toddlers, since they outgrow them so quickly. Buying clothes and toys that were a little worn, but otherwise in good condition made me feel so much better. My kids could care less if they were used, so why should I?

With the next presidential election looming, my cynicism in having our country vote for a candidate who will make the environment a priority is still at an all-time high. But at least, this time around, I'm trying to do everything I can live green, and I can feel good about that.

Go Sharks!

Team sports and autism generally don't mix. Even if kids with autism are coordinated enough to play sports, it's difficult for them to be part of a team because they have a hard time understanding the concept of "we" and not "me." If a kid with autism has the soccer ball, for example, he may not be able to look around for another team mate to pass the ball to and make the goal. He'd probably try to just kick the ball to the goal himself, ignoring the possible opportunities to help the team win.

So when Ethan was diagnosed with autism, I didn't see team sports in his future. I felt a pang of sadness every time I heard moms talk about taking their kids to various sporting events. Instead, Terry and I began to focus on individual activities, such as swimming, and hoped that would be an outlet for him.

Ethan, however, had other plans. When he started kindergarten, he noticed kids playing soccer, and heard all his classmates talk about playing. He told me he wanted to play, but it was too late to sign him up for the fall. So I made a pledge to sign him up for spring soccer with the recreation center. "Are you sure you want to play?" I asked. "Yes," he said.

So with my heart in my throat, I signed him up. On one hand, I really felt he had the athletic skills to do it. Plus, it would be great opportunity for him to be around other kids in a structured, social setting. On the other hand, if Ethan didn't like it, he would be very vocal about it. I pictured him saying loudly, "This is boring!" and flopping himself down in the middle of the field. Or wandering off to go look at something more interesting than the game he's supposed to play.
But for $40, I figured if it didn't work out, it wouldn't be a huge loss. We'd never know until we tried.

On the first day of practice, some of my worst fears were confirmed. Ethan had a hard time staying in line for the drills. The coach had to repeatedly give him directions--"Kick the ball. Kick the ball. Kick the ball." This was going to be a long six weeks, I thought.

I resolved to work with Ethan during the week. I set up a soccer goal in the back yard, and we practiced kicking the ball into it. I also made him practice passing the ball back and forth to me. I told him over and over, "Listen to your coach."

It seemed to help. At Ethan's next game/practice, he stayed in line and completed the drills. During the game, he was too timid to kick the ball, but ran along with the other kids. The coach had him kick the ball in when it went out of bounds. Throughout the game, kept waiting for him to flop himself down in the middle of the field, or wander off. When he finally did fall down to the ground, the coach blew the whistle. Game over!!

"You did it!" I cried. "You played your first soccer game. You did great!" Ethan had a big smile on his face.

Ethan still has long way to go before he gets the team concept, let alone soccer, down. But his baby steps are definitely going in the right direction.

Countdown to B-Day

Last Saturday we celebrated Ethan's birthday party at Pump It Up, which has a room full of jumpy castles for kids to play on, plus a party room for the cake and presents. Now that it's over, I can breathe a huge sigh of relief that we pulled it off and everyone had a good time. It seems a little silly to be so worried about a birthday party; millions of parents plan such events every weekend, and million of kids go, play, eat cake and have fun.

But we had a huge factor that could derail the success of this party--my son's autism. When Ethan gets overstimulated, he has a hard time calming down and usually ends up crying and screaming like a 2-year-old. So even though he loves to play in jumpy castles, all the jumping and running around could quickly make him overstimulated and set him off. I've had play dates at such places end up with me restraining him from running and crying from the room.

Another factor that could derail the festivities was Ethan's rigid expectations of how things should go. Kids with autism have little ability to readjust their thinking if things don't go as they expected. Last Christmas, for example, Ethan cried himself to sleep because we forgot to put candy in his stocking. He didn't NEED candy, he just expected it and couldn't recover quickly from the disappointment.

Because of these issues, we had never planned a big party for Ethan. But this year, Ethan started asking for a party at Pump It Up. Because he seeks a lot of sensory input, he is drawn to places like Pump It Up, where he can run around and jump and slide to his heart's content. We weighed the good and bad points of a Pump It Up party, and decided it was worth the risk. Yes, maybe he would get overstimulated and overwelmed, and end up screaming and crying. But, maybe, just maybe, he would just enjoy jumping, running and playing with his friends. It was a Catch 22--should we take the chance and do what our son wants for his birthday, or should we play it safe and do a family party at home? We rolled the dice and went with the big birthday party at Pump it Up. We made the reservation for the March 15.

From that day in January on, it was countdown to B-Day for me. Instead of being excited, I felt like I was going to get my teeth pulled. We mailed out 25 invitations, thinking maybe 15 would come. To our surprise, 25 kids rsvped! I was happy for the turnout, but also nervous that this many kids would be too overwelming for Ethan, and meltdowns would ensue. But it was too late to turn back now.

The 15th finally arrived. A part of me was scared, but also relieved to get this over with. Terry and I spent the week making 25 grab bags, ordering cakes, and buying snacks and water for the party. We also came up with a game plan--every 15 minutes we would pull Ethan from the room to get a drink of water so he'd have a chance to calm down from all the jumping. So there was nothing left to do except get in the car and drive over there.

We make it to Pump It Up, and the guests start arriving. Ethan is running around, excited, but not too hyper yet. Then we go in the jumpy castle room and Ethan bolts from one castle to the next. But, fortunately, he never got too hyper. He just blended in with all the other kids running, jumping and having a good time.

Next obstacle was the cake. Would he sit still long enough to blow out the candles? Would he smear frosting all over his face like he did at my niece's first birthday party? None of the disaster scenarios happened--he did a great job waiting through the birthday song for cake and eating it.

As people went to leave, they thanked us for inviting them and said they had a good time. It was so good to hear. But what really made all the stress and planning worth it was hearing Ethan say he had fun, too.

New Car Blues

We got our 2003 Toyota Matrix in 2002, right after I had Ethan. This was our first new car, so it was pretty exciting. Unfortunately, since I've been a stay-at-home mom, I'm driving all the time, which gives me plenty of chances to wreck this car, which I have come close to doing a couple of times.



The first time I damaged the car, I blamed it on the screaming kids. I got gas, and as I was pulling away from the pump, I looked up and saw a car right in front of me. I turned sharply to the left to avoid the car, and hit the poll next to the gas pump. The loud, scraping sound made me pretty nervous. Sure enough, when I got out of the car to check the damage, the driver's side had a huge scrape and was bent in. Who knew a poll could do so much damage?



That little accident cost us thousands of dollars, and lowered our driver safety rating with our car insurance considerably. You would think after such an incident, I would never damage our car again. But I was wrong. Again, I blame the kids.



This morning, Ethan doesn’t want to go to kindergarten and runs away from me as I nag him to get dressed. I finally get both in the car and start back out—White Stripes is blaring. I turn the wheel too soon and hit the lawn mower, which hooks onto the front bumper. I stupidly keep backing the car out and hear a loud crunch. I get out of the car and see that the lawn mower pulled half the front bumper off and it’s almost on the ground. I wanted to cry and scream at the same time. How could I have done this again? I call Terry and he is PISSED. He’s like—I have a meeting at 10 am—I’ll see what I can do after that. So I think—forget him, I’ve done so much damage to this car in the past, I know what to do. I call the body shop and make an appointment to get an estimate. Then call back Terry and he tells me to tie the bumper on with a rope, which I do. Then I drive over there, expecting to have to pay lots and lots of money we don’t have to fix this car, because we definitely don't want to file an insurance claim. But THANK GOD, the manager says if I pay the mechanic $50 cash, they’ll reattach the bumper for me, and it will only take 45 minutes. I was profoundly grateful. I thanked the mechanic several times. I was so prepared to write a huge check to fix this car; $50 feels like manna from heaven.



Why did I wreck the car for the second time? I kick myself, thinking I should have learned my lesson; then I blame my bad driving on my onry boys. Accusations aside, I can't help thinking, too, that this little run in with the lawn mower proved to me that people can be good and kind when you least expect it. Thank God for that.