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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.