A Lovely Day in May

Today Hutton did not have school, so after his morning speech therapy, we ran some errands and then took a lovely drive home going "the long way" on some backs roads through the country. It's a beautiful, sunny day, so driving around with the sunroof open and the windows down was so nice!

When we got home, we whipped out the Spongebob Snocone maker, a Christmas gift from my friend, Liz, who remembered how I always lamented never getting a Snoopy Snocone Machine as a child, even though I asked for it every year for Christmas. What a great friend, huh? After assembling the machine, and finding a missing piece in a toy box in the living room (glad I didn't throw out that weird brown piece of plastic when I found it somewhere several months ago!), I started cranking away. We added some Hi-C syrup from the gigantic bag leftover from Hutton's school Walk-A-Thon last month (I had picked up the giant jugs from McDonald's, and had to buy a big box of Hi-C concentrate, and as only about 100 kids walked in the Walk-A-Thon, there was lots of syrup leftover), and they were pretty darn tasty!

Then, we went outside to enjoy the sun. As the boys pushed the toy car around, I set up a flower sprinkler I'd bought earlier in the day. I was unreeling some hose, and saw a tiny little frog hiding on the hose holder. Anyone who has ever been to my house would know that I'm a frog fanatic, so I was very excited, and after showing the froggy to Hutton, ran inside to get my camera. I took some pictures of the boys, while I was at it.

Driving N Smiling

The car must be out of gas.

After capturing the frog on CompactFlash (and scaring him off with the flash in the process), I turned on the flower sprinkler, which was crazy and a little too unpredictable. I soon moved it to a sunnier spot in the yard, far away from the hammock!



Tiny little frog by the hose

Frog compared to hose for size

Crazy flower sprinkler getting a little too close to my hammock.

Hutton enjoyed turning it on and off over the next couple of hours, while Harrison and I lounged in the hammock for a while. Then while the boys played in the sandbox and rode their trikes, I did some weeding and pruning. Now I must take a nap, as Harrison's decision to not sleep through the night had a direct effect on my not sleeping through the night, either.

I'm Not Ready for This!

Hutton has started peeing standing up. I'm not ready for this. No, it has nothing to do with my little boy growing up. It has to do with the fact that he has bad control and always manages to hit both the back of the toilet and then dribble on the floor (and his pants and underwear) at the end. I really love having to wipe down the toilet and bathroom floor several times a day, and do more laundry.

Yesterday when I saw this happen for the first time, I walked in and stepped in the little puddle he'd left on the floor. Thanks, Hutton! Now, please sit down and pee like a respectable man. I don't care how Daddy does it!

Saturday Night Excitement

I was just reading a magazine, and as I flipped through the final pages at the back, checking for articles hidden among the ads, I was stopped by a full-page ad featuring a picture of a cute couple nuzzling each other with an adorable baby between them, and the giant print, "VAGINAL REJUVENATION" below, in the middle of the page. Of course, I was intrigued, and read on.

This was a medical clinic offering all sorts of neat procedures for the ladies, to "get you back in shape from the inside out." OK. I was mildly amused by the "individual kegel exercise regimen" and vaginal weight training. Uh, no thanks, I do my vag weight training on the machines at the gym. Heh. Just kidding.

Anyway, the kicker was further down, after the section on "minimally invasive procedures" featuring bladder lifts and trans-gender scarless hysterectomies, there was the "restoration, reconstruction, plumbing and renovations" section. Hmm, I have always thought of my lady bits in terms of home improvement terminology. How did the genius copywriter responsible for this ad know that?! Still reading the smaller print in this section (uh-huh, I liken it to rubber-necking a car accident) was the laugh-out-loud phrase: "If...your labia are assymetric [sic] or large and bothersome, you may benefit from minimally invasive...surgery." Jeez, even when my life is not-so-fun, I can always look on the bright side: I don't need surgery for large and bothersome labia. Phew! The fact that this full page ad had a typo of asymmetric, and it featured the word ass...well, that's just too easy.

And just so you know, this was in New York magazine, not Hustler for Women or Cosmo or something like that. Don't ask me why I, a hausfrau living in the boonies 40 minutes from the closest real city, and across the country from New York, am reading New York magazine. Well, go ahead and ask. DH had some credit card points to burn, so I got lots of free subscriptions, and there wasn't the best selection. I'd rather read New York and pretend to be hip than Men's Vogue, Golf Digest or W for instance. I don't even know what W magazine is, but it brings Dubya to mind, therefore I want nothing to do with it!

Hola! Say Can You See?

Yes, that's a lame title. I read about the new Spanish anthem yesterday. I think it sounds pretty good in theory. But that's where it ends. Why?

Because it "... is shaping up to be a We Are The World for Latinos..." Shudder. One We Are the World is more than enough people!

I now have the image of Cyndi Lauper wearing headphones singing along with Huey Lewis burned into my mind. Ugh. It took years to get rid of that image, and just reading the song title brought it back!

For those of you who remember the song, this is a fun website. Scroll to the bottom, and it lists the WATW lyrics with the performer beside them. I could aurally imagine each performer singing the lines as if I had the tape blaring on my boom box in the 80s.

Conglomeration of Random Carp

Well, it should read, "Crap," but I liked the typo so much, I kept it!

It's a beautiful day in the boonies where I live, and I should be outside gardening, since Harrison is asleep and Hutton is working with his ABA therapist, but I'm here composing this work just for you! Aren't you feeling special that I chose you?

After reading this post on Allie D.'s blog, I thought about my own commute. I don't work a "real" job, so what I do can't really be called commuting, but then when I consider that I am a stay-at-home mom (really a stay-at-home-part-of-the-time, drive-the-kids-to-various-appointments-and-run-errands-the-rest-of-the-time), driving my kids around is part of my job. If it were just me, I'd have easy "commutes" of going to the gym (12 minute drive), the grocery store (5 minutes for Safeway, 14 for Fred Myer), and Target (about 15 to 20 minutes depending on which store I choose.)

So, my commutes are:

• 25 minutes to take Hutton to school on the days he doesn't ride the bus. The past month, I've made this drive A LOT because of all the crap (carp?) I've been doing at his school: co-chairing the big fund-raising walk-a-thon, helping with the class art projects for the upcoming big fund-raising art auction, and going to various meetings and presentations.
• 30+ minutes to take Hutton to his speech and occupational therapy on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, at prime commute time of 8:30 a.m. I really loathe this one, because it can be anywhere from 25 minutes to 40+ depending on traffic, and there's never any indication traffic will be bad until it's too late to choose another route. It is usually my fault we're late when we are, because I always take 5 minutes longer than necessary to fix my makeup. Because, you know I have to make a good impression on Hutton's 20-something therapists, the barista at the Jitters where I get my mochas after I've dropped Hutton off, and the various workers at the ghost-town of a mall* across the street from the therapists' office.
• 40+ minutes to take Hutton to his homeopath once every 6 weeks. Yep, I'm a freak who believes that homeopathy is actually helping my son's behaviors and health. The homeopath is just so nice and attentive, though, and I SWEAR Hutton starting pooping on the potty almost immediately after we went to him the first time.

Harrison only goes to Gymboree once a week, and that's 15 minutes, so I don't really mind that as far as commutes go. So far he's the easy child, but that was the case with Hutton, too, before he was 2 1/2.

Oh yeah -

* The ghost-town of a mall across the street from Hutton's therapist. This is a weird mall. It was once a wonderous place full of delightful shops, I'm sure, but now, it's in a strange state of upheaval, rebuilding, and rebirth. When Hutton started therapy in Factoria (I like to pronounce it incorrectly as Fact-o-rhee-a, like diarrhea) last year, the mall had more stores than it currently does. Gottschalk's, which always had great sales, which is probably why it closed, is no longer there, and the toy store where Harrison and I would go to play with the Thomas trainset is also gone. There used to be a little tea shop there, too, where I went to a baby shower for a friend. The Factoria Mall has an Old Navy (my fave place for cheap clothes, though I have to actually try them on, as their quality control is all over the place, and a small could really be a large), only accessible from the outside of the mall, like in a strip mall. It has a Target, my all-time favorite chain store, which is accessible from inside and outside the mall, a Safeway, only accessible from the outside of the mall, a Rite Aid, accessible from inside and outside the mall, a Nordstrom Rack, accessible from inside and outside (I found a great pair of jeans there recently that would have cost a lot more than all of my other jeans combined if I hadn't found them on sale at the Rack). Then there are lots of other little stores inside - a book store, a card store, small clothing stores, a post office outpost, a Seattle's Best, Jamba Juice. Then it has a PetCo, Red Robin and a day spa place. Recently they opened a children's museum inside also, which is nice, because it gives me and Harrison something fun to do during the two hours of Hutton's therapy, but it doesn't open until 10, so I still have an hour to kill ahead of time.

You're getting the idea, right? This is not a "regular" mall in any sense of the word. It's just weird. There's no telling which of the small businesses inside will last through the year or what will open in their stead, or in the giant spot once occupied by Gottschalk's Department Store.

Well, I had much more to write, but that blurb on the Factoria Mall took longer to write than the original mall designers probably took to plan the place out.

Slow Times at S House

Yawn. Ho hum. Nothing going on for a while, hence the lack of posts. I am nursing a grudge against my dear husband, brought on last week, and going on off-and-on since then. The cause: TAX DAY!!! Ohh, it sends shivers down my spine. Like another blogger I know, who shall remain nameless to protect the innocent (and guilty), my husband has a tax problem. He started them aeons ahead of time. Or at least it seemed that way. A month or so ago, I asked him if he needed me to compile any of Hutton's medical information for tax stuff, since DH had asked about the mileage to the chiropractor, speech therapist, etc. DH said, "No. I've already done it." Super! Laura is free and clear of any tax involvement. Or so I thought.

So, last Saturday morning, I awoke bright and early, showered, fed the boys and myself breakfast, and got ready to go to one of those things that most men (and even few women) can understand -- Scraptacular Scrapfest, or something along those lines. It was a scrapbooking workshop, when you go the the scrapbooking saleswoman's house for several hours and accomplish all that scrapbooking you haven't been able to do in the past year. I didn't really tell DH exactly what I was doing. Just that I was going to a "thing" and that I had a soccer game afterwards. I scurried off on my merry way, feeling just a tad guilty that DH was working on taxes and had the boys to tend to, but hey, I took care of the boys every day, and DH only had a few things to do for taxes, right?

Wrong. I was happily cutting my chosen pictures into perfect ovals, picking out the right color backgrounds, and getting ready to paste when I received the first of three calls on my cell phone. DH: "Who is Elizabeth X?" Me: "That's Hutton's ABA consultant." Next call: "What's this stuff for Comprehensive Medical Center? And who is Dr. L?" Blah blah blah. Laura's anger slowly rising. Didn't I offer to do all of this for DH weeks ago? Why is he bothering me with this now? The third and final call boiled down to DH yelling that he couldn't do the taxes over the phone, why was I at a SCRAPBOOKING PARTY when he was watching the kids and trying to do taxes, YELL YELL YELL. I yelled back, "FINE. I'm coming home." The angry tears of frustration were pooling in my eyes and I was attempting to hold them back so the rest of the women happily scrapping wouldn't notice, but they did. Luckily my friend Liz was there to ensure there was not any talking about me when I left. (THANKS, Liz!)

I drove home seriously pissed at my Dickwad, er, Dear Husband. When I got home, I went upstairs where the boys were happily playing and watching Madagascar. DH had apparently figured out most of the medical stuff he couldn't possibly do without me here. He was sure to point out that our insurance hadn't covered the last three months of 2005 for Hutton's ABA therapy because we were over our allotment. And what could I do about that now? I told him this year we had dropped hours by 30% so that wasn't going to happen again. He then got all pissy about some check I'd written in January for $700. I had not written down what it was for, and DH was sure I'd written it for some solid good scrapbooks, I'm sure. When DH said there was a $300 check the year before to the same woman, I remembered that the check was for boarding the dogs at Christmas. See, no spendthrift wife involved. (Which reminds me - I never understood how the word "thrift" added to "spend" means someone who is NOT thrifty with her spending.)

And that was the end of my involvement in tax season. I made the boys lunch, went off to play soccer (we won! Woohoo!) and continued in the normal way of a boring weekend with no help from DH because he was doing taxes. Taxes were done Sunday night, I signed my places, and we're supposed to get $8,000 back. So, why the hell does DH get in such a pissy mood about these things? And why does he insist on doing taxes himself? Because we can't afford to have someone else do them. Oh, I see. I'm just the little housewife who has to deal with the super pissy husband every year at tax time.

Spring Break, and not a drunken half-naked coed in sight

Yes, it's Spring Break week here in the NW, and we're having a...pretty boring old time. Nothing special going on at all. Monday we went to my friend, Liz's house for lunch and play. Tuesday, speech therapy in the morning and an afternoon cleaning the upstairs windows. Yes, we know how to party! The only funneling involved putting water in the steam cleaner.

Today was morning ABA therapy, and this afternoon is wide open. I sense a trip to Target. Hutton is requesting to play with Jack's Big Music Show game on the Noggin website. He saw that when I was getting the link for my post the other day.

My thought for the day that I came up with while getting dressed yesterday: On shows like "What Not to Wear" they tell you that to figure out your correct bra size, you should measure in two areas while wearing a well-fitting bra, then use a special formula to determine the correct size. Well, if you have a well-fitting bra, wouldn't that be the right size?

Moments I Love as a Mother

I had one of these moments the other day. I had been cleaning windows all afternoon, with H & H "helping out," following me around with cloths and then getting distracted and climbing on the furniture, chasing each other around, trying to steal my steam cleaner, etc.

I finally finished the downstairs windows, and turned on the TV for the boys to watch while I went to throw my dirty cleaning rags in the wash. I put on a TiVoed episode of "Jack's Big Music Show, " and walked out of the living room. A few minutes later, I found Hutton in the kitchen, looking suspiciously "up to something." He moved aside to show me what the look was about. There, on the floor in front of the refrigerator, was an empty egg carton and the last three eggs (brown, free-range organic eggs, of course) broken on the floor. I was pissed. As I let the steam explode from my ears, I cleaned up the eggs and explained to Hutton in the calmest voice possible (though still an overly loud and angry voice) that eggs were not a toy and I didn't want him to EVER, EVER, EVER touch an egg again unless I had given him permission to do so.

Afterwards, I went in to the living room to check on Harrison who was still watching "Jack's Big Music Show." The boys love this show, and I like it, too. We've seen all the episodes Noggin has played, so I noticed very quickly that the episode was about the Baby Bongo Bird. You know, the bird who plays the bongo drums. The bird who hatches. From an egg. D'oh! So apparently Hutton was just trying to get his own baby bongo bird out of the refrigerator.

It's been slow around here

Sorry. I've been preoccupied with this stupid Duke LAX thing and trying to keep up with the latest in that. (I get sucked in to this crap very easily!) One thing that bugs me is that this freakshow, Ryan McFadyen, is giving Duke a bad name. And I'm not even talking about the rape investigation, that started sucking Duke down last month. I'm talking about his horrific grammar in his horrific email about skinning strippers. That's almost as bad to me, as a Duke grad with an English major. That guys like this get into good schools on LAX scholarships, then proceed to somehow get through while not learning how to write or spell, and most likely go on to high-paying jobs. Well, maybe not in Ryan's case, since he was suspended, but I'm sure this will be the case for lots of his buddies. It's just annoying to me because I actually had to study and gasp, work hard, at my classes to graduate. (Well, I didn't exactly work hard. I had turned into quite a slacker/procrastinator in college after being an over-achiever in high school, but I still had to use that organ in my skull and pull some all-nighters to keep my GPA up).

More on Ryan, then I swear I'll move on. This DB (you can come up with whatever you want with that abbreviation -- Downy Ball, Duck Bill, Delirious Bibliophobe) was actually quoted in the school paper, talking about the Take Back the Night rally against sexual violence: "I completely support this event and this entire week," he told the newspaper. "It's just sad that the allegations we are accused of happened to fall when they did."

Hmm. This guy attends a Take Back the Night rally against sexual violence just a few weeks after sending an email talking about skinning strippers and getting off on doing so. Now, I'm going to say it. You knew it was coming. That's IRONIC!!! See, I got something out of my Duke education after all.

Now for something more serious...

I'm really not happy with my Alma Mater right now. Not a proud Blue Devil. This is the reason:
http://www.newsobserver.com/1185/story/423471.html

For those who don't want to read the link, it is the story of an exotic dancer who was sexually assulted at an off-campus party at the home of Duke Lacrosse players.

This took place a couple of blocks from the house where I lived Junior and Senior years at Duke. I participated in Take Back the Night rallies at Duke, but I can't imagine how tense this year's rally was after this with this going on!

When I attended Duke, over ten years ago (gosh, has it already been that long?), things were pretty much the same as they are now -- strained relationships with the town of Durham and its residents. Though my friends and I lived off campus and were much more involved in town life than most of our on-campus classmates, we were still part of the "Gothic Wonderland," a world closed off to the poorer residents of Durham.

The fact that the athletes accused of this heinous crime are white, rich, priveledged Dukies will do nothing to improve Duke/Durham relations, unfortunately. And while many at Duke are claiming they're not racist, sexist pigs, unfortunately this situation does not back up their claims.


My friend pointed out an article in the New York Times the other day about the Duke Women's Basketball team. The article said it was a shame these women were not commenting on the lacrosse team rape. Though, as my friend pointed out, the women on the basketball team had probably never met the men's lacrosse team players and were trying to focus on their tournament -- they played the National Championship game Tuesday night. Why should these women, who have worked so hard for this, have to concern themselves with the horrible actions of the lacrosse team?

As I've taken over a day to write this post, some new issues have come up.

One: Another friend from Duke emailed about Duke's President Brodhead claiming a few days ago that this was the result of off-campus partying/drinking. As my friend said, "If you're a good person, you are not going to rape a woman when you're drunk. " I can see that to some extent. But obviously in this case, drinking didn't help the situation.

Two: This is just disgusting! The latest:
http://www.nytimes.com/aponline/sports/AP-Duke-Lacrosse-Investigation.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/0405061duke9.html

Sick, sick, sick!

What's worse is the lawyer talk from two of the lawyers representing lacrosse team players:

''While the language of the e-mail is vile, the e-mail itself is perfectly consistent with the boys' unequivocal assertion that no sexual assault took place that evening,'' said attorney Robert Ekstrand. The e-mail ''demonstrates that its writer is completely unaware that any act or event remotely similar to what has been alleged ever occurred.''

and

"This e-mail, while the wording of it is, at best, unfortunate, if you read this e-mail and you also are aware of other e-mails that exist contemporaneous with these events, it's quite clear that no rape happened in that house," Cheshire said. "These boys were frustrated because they, as is already been reported, they thought these women had come and taken a bunch of money and started dancing and just decided to leave."

Oh, so since he's writing about skinning strippers alive and finding this sexually gratifying, that means that an assult couldn't have already happened. Yeah, sure. He and his teammates seem like standup members of the community. Those poor boys. They didn't get a full show because they were threatening to assault the women they paid to dance. Blech. I'm off to vomit now.

Yikes! Double Yikes!

I hadn't visited Go Fug Yourself in a while, so wandered over today and scrolled down happily until I saw this:

LaFugta Jackson

I suppose if you have nipped and tucked your way into an expression of permanent surprise, it makes sense to tailor your wardrobe around that sentiment:

This way, instead of blaming it on bad taste, LaToya Jackson can simply say, "Well, I was just so startled by the fact that my jacket shrank and then the ferret clipped to my belt tore a scrap out of it, all of which exposed the fact that I was forced to wear a bra top that didn't fit because it's laundry day. Still... happy face! Happy face!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What the heck is she doing drawing attention to that thing in her mid-abdomen area? I have something that looks similar, thanks to my lovely kiddos, but I can GUARANTEE that I will never willingly expose said flesh in this manner. Ick, ick, ick!

In case you've recently been offered a job by Naomi Campbell...

.... you may want to reconsider.

http://today.reuters.com/news/NewsArticle.aspx?type=entertainmentNews&storyID=2006-03-30T234021Z_01_N30262228_RTRUKOC_0_US-CAMPBELL.xml

Her assistants should definitely have medical insurance costs covered. Then again, they can probably recoup the costs of their stitches by sueing her after she assaults them.

A post about Hutton

I've realized I haven't posted much about Hutton, my beautiful 4 1/2 year old son with autism. He has been doing very well this year, learning so much and talking 100 times more than he did a year ago. This morning while we were getting ready to go to his speech therapy appointment, he told me excitedly, "Harrison watching Lions!" I said, "Oh, Harrison was watching "Between the Lions" on TV this morning?" and he said yes. This is exciting, because we're working on Hutton telling us about things that he has done during the day. Usually he is fine with telling us what is going on in the present, but not the past. And he's definitely got the future down. The night before something happens, he will usually tell me what we are doing the next day, whether it's going to school, having at-home therapy, or going to speech therapy.

Another behavior we're working on is Hutton's preoccupation with routine. Some times, Hutton is perfectly fine with new developments that aren't a regular part of his routine, but other times, a change will cause him to scream -- a very loud, very annoying scream, usually while he's in the backseat of the car and I'm trying to drive. This was the case this morning when the lower parking lot at the speech therapist's office was full, and I was driving around to the back lot. We have been parking in the lower lot most of the time, since we have been arriving early the past month, but today we were running late, and I had to park in back. SCREAM from Hutton in the back seat, right behind my head, that he wanted to park down there. Laura, gripping the steering wheel, trying to remain calm as I explain there are not any free spaces down there and we have to park up here today. Fortunately, I was able to rush him into the building without much more screaming.

Later on, when Harrison and I were reading a book in the lobby while waiting to pick Hutton up from his appointment, I heard the muted sounds of Hutton's screams from the back room. When we picked him up a few minutes later, his therapist explained that she was trying to switch things up a bit today, and when Hutton asked her to write a "1" on a piece of paper, she'd written two "1s." Oh, now I see that that would cause a furor! Oh well. As I said, we're working on it!

Hey, I'm as lazy as the next parent out there, but this is ridiculous!

I bring the ultimate in baby care - the bib-feeder!

I saw both sides of the issue, and wasn't too worked up about this convenience item for easier bottle-propping so you don't have to actually help your baby eat (man, when are they going to come out with babies that can hold their own bottles? Come on, babies, evolve already!). Lazy, but there are times when a frazzled mom or dad needs to have a few seconds to maybe make dinner, and if your baby is throwing his or her bottle on the floor constantly, that will make you want to tear your hair out. (Of course, I say this playing Devil's Advocate, as I'm a holier-than-thou extended breastfeeder whose baby never drank from a bottle. Yes, my nipples are raw from those new incisors coming in, but I'm Granola Queen, dammit!)

But then I read further.

Here's a press release the inventor of this contraption sent out: (and I got this from another website, so I don't know if this is really true, and it has some typos, which is usually suspect, so take this with a grain of salt!)

“My vision I believe is God given. I would like the company to provide a service to working Moms, Mom’s who have more then one child who are in multi-task situations, and assist teaching babies how to hold their bottle or sippy cup. This is the business end." OK, I'm going with you. I feel you. The misused apostrophe to make a plural "moms" makes my head spin around, but I'm with you, still.

It continues: "Mostly, in my heart Bibfeeder, is to be a blessing to starving children of the world and to help the missionaries spread the gospel of Jesus Christ who is my personal Lord and Savior. I believe that it is God that gives us gifts, inventions and talents and it is up to us to choose whether we will gloriy [sic] him or not. I choose for the Bibfeeder to be a blessing to the Kingdom of Heaven and to tell starving people, not only starving for food, but also spiritually. The answer is the good news of Jesus Christ”.

Huh. Say what? This bottle propping contraption is all about Jesus? Wait, now. Helping starving people? The same people who, say, are in third world countries and given free formula by "helpful" giant companies like Nestle, then their breastmilk dries up and they can't afford to feed their babies anymore because they can't buy more formula? Those starving people? Well, yep, this will definitely help them! Ok, I'll admit I'm getting sidetracked here.

The company does say on the bibfeeder website that a portion of your purchase price goes to feed starving children through Life Outreach International. That's good. Of course, then I think in my cynical Atheist way that the folks at LOI probably force the starving children to hear the word of God before they're given their bowl of soup. But hey, it's not like I'm helping end world hunger! I'm just sitting on my butt enjoying a latte.

Am I repeating repeating myself? Am I I?

I will have you know that I used to be very smart. I had a brain like a steel trap, full of both important and trivial knowledge. Seriously. I won the 2nd grade trivia contest, you know! The prize: a book of trivia. Gosh, Mrs. Lindstrom sure had a great sense of humor.

So, I have been slowly realizing over the past 5 years that my brain seems to be slowly oozing out of my skull, or my neurons are misfiring. The steel trap is not so steely anymore; it's more like rusty tin, or maybe not even metallic -- mashed potatoes or pudding. Yeah, a pudding trap doesn't work very well I've found.

The main result of this bad brain is that I don't remember 90% of what I watch or read anymore. Unless I read a book more than once, it immediately starts seeping out of my head. It makes being a participant in my book club extra challenging if I start forgetting a book moments after I've finished it. The first time I really noticed this was when I read the book Ahab's Wife, which is really long. I was well over halfway through when I realized, "Hey! I've read this before!" And it's not like I had read it 10 years before. No, probably had been 6 months. But I had zero recollection until one sentence jarred my memory.

This goes for films as well. Though I do have a somewhat better memory for films, it's not really that impressive when I average seeing three movies a month. Since having children, I average 2 movies a year in a theater, and the rest I TiVo or watch on DVD when I visit my mom. (We don't rent DVDs anymore. We even failed at Netflix. Yes, we suck.) Anyway, the point of this is that I just wasted 2 hours watching "Signs" which I had TiVo'ed on Saturday night from ABC. I started watching, and things were vaguely familiar, yet I had no recollection of having seen the movie before. Definitely not in the theater. A few scenes in, it's coming back to me: "Hmm, there's something about those water glasses all over the house that comes into play later...." Further on, I'm still watching even though I now know I've seen this movie before. "Hmm, is M. Night a doctor in this movie? Wait, I think that's the Sixth Sense." By the halfway point, I can remember the final scene of the movie, but I continue watching. I might as well finish it, right? I at least got some knitting done, so it wasn't a total waste.

It would be fantastic to be able to actually remember if I've read a book or seen a movie before, though, so when I am faced with a two hour block of free time I can use it to maybe read a book I haven't read yet, or see a movie I haven't watched before. Considering there are millions of books and hundreds of movies out there that I could be tackling for the first time, or that I could be revisiting the classics, I don't think reading Ahab's Wife twice or watching Signs a second time is really necessary.

Sigh, I better go to bed so I can give my feeble brain a break. I think I'll go buy some Omega 3s tomorrow!

Wonderful Weekend

Sometimes I wonder when my weekends went from being exciting, eagerly-awaited times, to just the same ole stuff as the rest of the week. It must have been after I became a hausfrau. Even before kids, I realized that weekends were never quite as exciting as I made them out to be. Even before I quit my job, this was usually the case, though. I think it was after I got married. No offense to my wonderful husband, but I think once I got married, we went from the excitement of weekends as being "date times" to weekends as being...just the end of the week.

When the kids are sick (Harrison is sick this weekend, last weekend I was sick, the weekend before it was Hutton) and we watch Madagascar for the 40th time since buying it Tuesday, weekends just aren't that exciting. So far this weekend, I have gone to the gym and to the grocery store. That's the extent of it. As much as I would love to go out to lunch, that's probably not going to happen because of sick Harrison. He was too cranky to go out yesterday, so I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch. Harrison slept 90% of the day yesterday, which was kinda nice, but still makes me feel a bit housebound.

Maybe I'll go out to Home Depot or something exciting like that. That used to be part of nearly every weekend! Yes, that's the exciting life I lead: I remember the good old days of going to Home Depot every weekend and feel sad that I am missing out on a weekly trip to Red Robin or Acapulco Fresh.

Just so you know, I actually like Madagascar, even after 40 viewings. It's pretty funny, with lots of cultural references for the adults. It is rated PG, after all!

Big surprise! I'm a democrat!

So, after seeing Allie D. post about this, I jumped on the bandwagon and took this little test: http://www.okcupid.com/politics My results: You are a Social Liberal (73% permissive) and an... Economic Liberal (25% permissive) You are best described as a: Strong Democrat I know those who know me will be shocked by this. Actually, every time I take one of these, I kinda wonder if I might be moderate or libertarian this time, or - Gasp!- conservative!

This is going to be great!

I spend a lot of time online in pursuit of knowledge. Some of this knowledge is useful. Some is not so useful.

One website I visit a lot has been excited about this film since day one. When I heard about it, I was confused. Was this a joke? No, really, I thought I'd seen a skit about this on Saturday Night Live. A film parody. But, apparently it does exist, and it comes out this summer.

Its name: Snakes on a Plane. It's about Snakes. On a plane. How can you NOT be excited about this movie?








Another thing: Samuel L. Jackson is in it. So that means there will be lines like, "There are muthafuckin SNAKES on this plane!"

Of course, I was more excited about the movie when this was the only movie poster available:




Or even better, this one:




Yes, some people have too much time on their hands. And I'm one of them. After seeing the above pictures, and similar ones here, (go on! Click on them! They're FUNNY!) I noticed they had not used this yet, so I whipped this one up myself:



If you're more interested in tee shirts, try this one:
http://topatoco.com/snakes.htm

Ugh, I just ate dinner! I didn't need to see this!

http://www.send2press.com/newswire/2006-03-0322-003.shtml

Weird, just plain weird.

What is really funny about this is that Britney had a C-section.

It will be fascinating to see if the abortion rate drops because of this bizarre statue. Maybe in South Dakota. Let's watch that, huh?

I thought this was kinda funny, too.

I just started reading this article on nutrition and obesity, Don't blame Big Gulp for America's obesity, and I didn't have my pop-up blocker on, so as I scrolled down, I noticed a fancy ad for COCA-COLA. Hmmm. Sure, Coke is the parent company of Minute Maid orange juice and some other seemingly healthy things, but I don't think of nutrition and Coke together. Just kinda funny since the title of the article mentions Big Gulps, and most people don't get a Big Gulp of water with lemon.

Also funny was one of the nutrition experts quoted was a woman with the last name Nestle. Yep, I immediately thought of Toll House cookies. Yumm! So healthy, too. ;) (Fortunately, I don't have any chocolate chips in the house or I might be tempted to go do some baking. I do have some Thin Mints stashed in the freezer though if I get desperate!)

Of course, now the ad is something that popped on right after I had a long coughing spell:
Sudacare Shower Soothers. Hmm, that sounds pretty good! Of course, I am also thinking that my computer is watching me a little too closely.

Then on looking at the ad more, I realized you can draw in the steam! That's awesome! I'm going to turn off my pop-up blocker more often! I'm missing some great advertising.

This is funny...and sad!

Wednesday night, I was sitting down to watch a little TV, and saw that TiVo had recorded the South Park episode, "Trapped in the Closet." I was excited, as I knew it was the Tom Cruise/Scientology episode, so I hit play. And...lo and behold, it was NOT the aforementioned episode. It was a really old rerun, from back when I watched South Park religiously. (That's an interesting choice of words, considering the episode.)

The rerun was about the Chef benefit show the boys were getting together. I was a bit confused. Didn't Isaac Hayes just quit South Park, because as a Scientologist, he was offended by the "Trapped in the Closet" episode? Why the big tribute to his character, Chef?

Then I saw this this morning:
http://entertainment.msn.com/tv/article.aspx?news=218909&GT1=7703

Tom Cruise, you need to get a sense of humor! Maybe when your spawn is extracted from its host, you'll be a kinder, gentler human (you are human, right?).

Tempting the Cold Gods

I knew this would happen! Here I was, thinking how great my immune system was doing. Hutton has had a cold for over a week, Harrison had a runny nose, but I was still healthy! Go, Laura! It's because you work out and eat well. But not that often, and not well enough, apparently.

Yep, I've got a cold. Thursday night I had the extreme bowling ball head of sinus hell and woke up Friday feeling like I'd been trampled by elephants, who focused on my neck and spine in their trampling. Yesterday I blew my nose constantly. Last night I took a decongestant, even though I was trying to be good and not take anything suppressive so my immune system could tackle it on its own. But, you know, I'm just not strong enough! So, today the cold has moved down into my chest, and I'm coughing. Just like Hutton has been doing all week! So much for my strong immune system.

At least I'm getting a good ab workout with the coughing, not to mention the, er, kegels I'm doing when I cough to keep everything contained. Too much information, but that's what happens when you have kids -- they bring in colds and loosen everything up that once was tight.

Cough, cough. I'm not going to the gym this morning. Just walking up the stairs winds me.

Damn you, Cold Gods! You win! I was wrong to ever trust my immune system against your great powers!

Catching up with The Sopranos and Laura's Psyche

I had a dream that I was in some fabulous city with some fabulous people, but that's about all I remember. In the last part, I had to walk through a parking lot, and was supposed to tip this woman, and kept giving her quarters, but she started crying and would not accept them. It was like the quarters were not real money. Even after I'd given her 2 dollars in quarters. I finally gave up. And a guy was asking me why I had so much money in my purse - I had wads of cash, along with all of those quarters in my bag. Then Harrison woke me up.

I think all the cash was from watching The Sopranos last night. Woohoo! So great to see that show again! The last time it was on was June 2004, the month Harrison was born. In fact, my water broke during a contraction while watching the show! Fortunately it was at the end, and it was TiVoed so I didn't need to miss anything. But then I wonder if Harrison is going to be a violent boy because of the influence right before his birth. Haha.

But then the show also reminds me of my father, and that brings back to me that he was still alive to watch the last season of The Sopranos, and now he isn't. He won't get to see the final episodes. I don't know why I think of my father, as he wasn't in the mafia, and wasn't a violent guy. He was sort of like a kinder, gentler, slimmer version of Tony, though. He was a little stocky, had Tony's partial baldness, loved cigars...I remember watching The Sopranos earlier seasons on DVD with Dad and my stepmother, Barbara, in Florida when Hutton and I went down for a vacation after Christmas, in January 2004. After Hutton went to bed, we all sat on the couch together watching Tony and family.

That was the trip right after Dad was diagnosed with bladder cancer. A few weeks later, when he was back in California, he had surgery to remove his bladder and prostate, but it had already spread to his lymph nodes.

That was also the trip when I was finally accepting that something was a bit off with Hutton. He was 2 1/2, and I had bought some toys for him on ebay and mailed them to Dad and Barbara's house so he'd have things to play with while we were there. One toy was a little firestation. Hutton was only interested in the flagpole from the firestation; not the firetruck, not the firefighters, just the flagpole. The flagpole snapped into place, but Hutton kept wanting it out, and he would walk around with the flagpole, still not really talking at 2 1/2. All of us knew something was wrong, but he didn't have a diagnosis for few more months, and even then, it was a wishy-washy, "Let's say he has Autism so he can start getting therapy," from the neurologist I took him to.

My, have things changed for all families in the past 2 years, both ours and The Sopranos!


With Dad and Hutton on the beach in Naples (Florida, not Italy!) waiting for the New Year's Eve fireworks.

Ho Hum Friday

Yes, I've let things slide again. But I've been so busy lately! Uh, no, I don't really have anything to show for it. You'll just have to take my word for it!

Not much going on in the exciting world that is my life. I blew my mind yesterday morning listening to this in the car on NPR while sipping my latte and waiting to go meet Hutton's speech therapist. Plus I've been reading this, so I'm kind of in a parallel worlds kinda frame of mind. Physics really boggles my mind. Haha. That just reminds me of the talking Barbie from a while back that Feminists were angry about because one of the phrases it said was, "Math is hard!" Well, yeah, Barbie, I think so, too! And I don't think it's just cause I'm a girl, either!

Hutton is buried under the toy parachute we have. Harrison is running around. Fergus is sleeping. Sally is barking. Pretty normal stuff. I wonder what our doppelgangers (or maybe our evil twins?) are doing now in the parallel universes.

Happy Mardi Gras!

It's Mardi Gras, and you know what that means! Well, actually at our house, it really doesn't mean much. The boys get to play with my Mardi Gras beads (circa 1993) year round, so it's nothing special. We don't have King Cake (yum!) . No drinking or showing of tits going on. Scratch that, Harrison gets to see them whenever he wants milk (the only kind he drinks, baby!) and Jay can see them if he's really nice, and maybe if he gives me some beads. Sorry, to
instill that "too much information" image in your mind, gentle reader.

Hope everyone else is getting more rowdy than we are!

Question of the Day

Who is this?



No peeking.....


Keep scrolling....




Yes, it's Axl Rose, from Guns N Roses.
Scary! Of course, I never really understood why people liked him in the 80s, either, or how he ended up married to Stephanie Seymour. Now, Slash on the other hand....HAHA.

============

We survived the half of a Sonics game we attended as a family tonight. That's right, all of us, including our 2 kids under 5, went to a basketball game. At night. Harrison was climbing all over the seats, then I gave him some candy to keep him busy. That lasted at least a quarter. Then the nice woman in front of us who kept telling me how much she loves kids (she obviously doesn't have any yet!) gave him some of her popcorn. Hutton was going back and forth between the seats on either side of Jay. Fortunately, it was a very mellow game - not a packed house for the game against the New Orleans Hornets. Poor New Orleans, though, having to play a game in Seattle on Mardi Gras!

-----------

Before the game, we went to a Thai restaurant. Everything was going well, the kids had their spring rolls and the food came out just in time. I had cut up Hutton's chicken for him, and was serving myself when Jay got a weird look on his face, stood up, moved the boys' plates, and told me not to eat anymore. He came back a minute later and told me he had eaten a little piece of glass, and didn't know which dish it came from. So, the waiter came and took our plates away, brought us more rice, then we had to wait for them to recook our food. Fun, fun. The restaurant did give us a discount on our food and some gift certificates, so the next time we're in downtown Seattle and in the mood for glass, we know where to go!

Boring Monday

I survived my single parent weekend, and am enjoying a slow Monday, typing with a sleeping child in my lap.

Hutton is back at school. I stayed up too late last night getting my weekend ebay auction wins (Little People extras!) packaged. Before that I was working on knitting an Elmo sweater. It's my first attempt at intarsia knitting (knitting with more than one color yarn, or picture knitting), and though the front looks OK, the back is scary and tangled. I think it will be enormous on Harrison, too, so I may end up ripping it out or modifying it to be worn by Hutton. Though by the time I finish it, Hutton may be way too cool for an Elmo sweater.

So, this morning when Harrison woke up at 7 a.m., I did my mommy duties for an hour (changed his diaper, nursed him, fed the dogs, let the dogs in and out...) then went back to bed, where I did the never really helpful blocks of 10 - 15 minutes of sleep, interrupted when the boys would come in with toys to show me, or with sippy cups to be filled, etc. I finally go up at 10 to really face the day.

Now Harrison is awake in my lap, so I am off to the post office to deliver those ebay packages.

Weekend Worrier

So, I'm having one of those "single parent weekends." Not that I'm a single parent, but that I feel like one in that my husband has been busy working all weekend. He "watched" (parented) the boys Saturday morning when I went to the gym, but complained about not being able to work with the boys in the room. Hmm, don't know what that's like, Jay. I always accomplish everything easily with the boys underfoot. ;) Often literally in Harrison's case. He's a leg-grabber.

Of course, though Jay is so busy with his work, he still managed to go to bed earlier than I did on Friday night, and get up 2 hours later. Last night, he went to bed an hour or so later than I did, and is still enjoying his sleep at 9:30. No, I really have no bitterness about the fact that he doesn't feel physically sick when he hears Harrison cry in the mornings, and I am the one who does feel sick and am forced to get up at 7:30 a.m. or earlier. Yes, I'm sarcastic. I'm also the parent who gets up with the boys every morning (I think Jay "let" me sleep in one time in January so far this year), prepares 90% of our meals and bathed them and put them to bed both nights this weekend so far. Jay does help out, but I'm not feeling it this weekend. I'm feeling like I'm going to need to start playing soccer again soon so I can have at least a weekly night out!

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I told my online moms group about this already, so I feel like I can start getting this off my chest. It will be a huge relief to stop living a lie. Well, that last part is a stretch. I'm not living a lie, just being pretty stupid!
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I'm having an existential crisis over my, ahem, toy collection. Some of you may know that I'm a true freak, and have a huge collection of Fisher Price Little People toys. I started getting them when Hutton was little, and now have just about every set of the "modern" Little People toys, made from 1997 to present day. Though I have managed to get rid of some of the bigger pieces here and there, like the airport, and older versions of "Discovery City" and Main Street, I have kept the figures that go with these sets. My collection is about 500 or so. Yes, I do have that many Little People people and animals spread around on shelves in our lovely "home office" / play room. I told you I was a freak.

So, one of my collector friends (another freak like me!) IM'ed me Friday to tell me she's considering quitting the collecting thing, because it's so expensive and ...well, neither of us is willing to admit it's just pretty stupid. ;) I am now thinking I should get rid of my collection, too. Just keep a few sets that the boys actually play with. But, I've spent 3 years obsessing over these things, I don't know if I'll be able to do it! I guess I can just start slowly selling the ones I don't really care about, and then maybe it will get easier.

It really has become an addiction though. Fisher-Price came out with a huge new group of toys this year. I managed to calmly wait about month before I had to go to Target to buy the new pirate sets and animals add on to the new improved version of Noah's Ark. That's something evil Fisher-Price does to suckers like me and the rest of the Little People collectors-- every few years, they change up the designs of some of the toys, and re-release them, with the accompanying figures painted just a little differently so the freaks MUST HAVE THEM NOW! They did that this year with the Noah's Ark set. Mind you, the "old" set was from 2003, and the only changes are that the ark is a different color plastic and half of the animals are different molds of the same animals -- more babyish looking giraffes, elephants, etc. I have been strong and NOT bought the new ark...yet. I go and look at it every time I go to Target, though, and my hands start itching to pick it up and put in the cart, before my mind yells, "NO! You already have that damn ark at home, just in tan plastic instead of red! You don't need to spend $20 on this crap just because you don't have those 4 freaking plastic animals!" Did I mention it's an addiction?

Ok, you don't believe the addiction. Well, in January I found out that I could get a PayPal debit card that would allow me access to my PayPal account at real stores, not just ebay. So, I applied for one, and when it arrived, I rushed off to Target for those much-needed Little People. Then I kept them hidden in my car for several days. Then I sneaked them into the house and hid them in a closet until my husband was away at a meeting, when I finally got around to getting them out of the boxes and putting the toys on the shelves, where they'll blend in with the other hundreds of Little People. These toys do come packaged with zillions of twist ties, you know, so it takes a while to get them out of the boxes. I can now rationalize that any money I have on PayPal can go to my Little People "collection" and my husband won't realize I'm spending any money on them. Sad, sad, sad. Of course, this was BEFORE I decided I'm going to start selling my collection. Maybe now I can use my PayPal debit card for worthwhile things, like my son's visits to the various doctors he sees. Or new workout clothes.

So, if I take it one day at a time, I can NOT buy the Noah's ark (come on, I'm not even religious! But I also have a Little People Hanukkah set. ) I am focusing also on not starting any more "collections." If you just have some toys, and are not obsessing about getting every new version you see, then it's not a collection. This is the case with the Thomas the Tank Engine stuff - we just have some of the trains, and I don't freak out over it. Right now, I am quite at peace with the fact that we don't own every engine to ever chug along the tracks on the Island of Sodor. At peace! Really!

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Yesterday I went to the gym for the first time in 2 weeks. Because it had been a while, I did two classes in a row (step and total body conditioning). Surprisingly enough, today I am not sore! How did that happen?

Anyway, there was this woman there who had such an amazing body, that I found myself immediately going into Catty Mode. I was thinking to myself, "There's no way her boobs are real! The rest of her body is too fit for her to just keep the fat in one place!' And then I started scrutinizing her. (I was behind her and to the side in the class). She had very toned but muscular legs (and everything else for that matter!). Not skinny, but no fat that I could see, just enough to make her not look veiny and body builderish.

I just thought it was interesting that instead of being inspired to work out by this woman, my immediate reaction was to cut her down by thinking that her boobs were fake (well, they were big and very non-bouncy in her spandex). As if that makes the rest of her obvious hard work worthless. Guess I'm just jealous because I have less than admirable boobs after 2 pregnancies and years of nursing! But, really, I don't want big boobs. Just less gravity-affected.

It would probably be easier to be happier for her if I knew her, right? Maybe next time I see her in class I'll go up to her and tell her she looks amazing. Then we'll both feel good, right?

And then on the fifth day, she rested

Ok, it's been another little lull in the posts. This time, I blame it on Hutton's break from school this week. We've been busy! Well, at least we were sorta busy.

We enjoyed the Children's Museum on Tuesday, and we had fun at Curious George, though with the time it took to find Harrison a booster seat, then to take Hutton to the potty mid-movie, I think we missed about 10% of the movie. But, hey, for an 82 minute movie, it's not hard to miss some!

Today was a day full of sloth. I had big plans to go shopping for my friend Liz's birthday gift. I showered and dressed...and then wasted most of the day napping and sitting in front of the computer. But not blogging or doing anything worthwhile. I was mostly "Windows shopping" - just looking for things to buy on various websites, but not actually buying anything. Hutton played Wallace and Gromit on Xbox while I was doing this. Harrison was the only one who actually played with non electronic toys, so that means I had to repair the Thomas train track destruction once or twice.

Tommorrow, I will go to the gym. And not sit on my ass all day (or lie down in my bed for 2 hours when it's not nighttime). And I WILL buy Liz's birthday gift.

Four days in a row!

Can I get a, "Good job, Mommy?"

Hutton has just started saying, "I did a good job!" after he accomplishes something we've asked him to do. Before that, he used to say, "Good job, Hutton!" Actually, I think I could learn something from that. If I told myself, "Good job, Laura!" after everything I accomplished (including using the potty, pulling up my pants, and washing my hands afterwards) my self esteem would skyrocket! Good job, Laura! You dressed yourself, and today even blow-dried [yes, I had that as "blew dry" before, and I actually looked in up in the dictionary to double check. I used to be an editor you know!] your hair and put on makeup! You're awesome!

So, this week is "mid-winter break" for Hutton's preschool, so we have more free time than usual. I have a trip to the Children's Museum planned for tomorrow after speech therapy, and Wednesday we're going to go see "Curious George" after ABA therapy. The boys haven't been to a movie in the theater before, so we'll see how it goes! I think they should be able to handle 82 minutes, right?

Today we went to see one of Hutton's doctors. Now, this Dr. is pretty cute. I used to think his regular pediatrician was cute (my friend and I called him Dr. Dreamy, and this was before Dr. McDreamy on Grey's Anatomy, so we were pretty ahead of our time!) but now he's getting a little chunky, and he's much more regular guy cute, not so dreamy. The Dr. we saw today, on the other hand, gets to me more each time I see him. He's geeky cute, with curly hair. Today he was wearing some pants with suspenders, for God's sake! That should be the opposite of cute, but I have to say, he made me fell all funny, like when I used to climb the rope in gym class.

So, this new, replacement Dr. Dreamy (though still nowhere as cute as Dr. McDreamy or Dr. McSteamy on Grey's) was really excited by Hutton's speech progress. We see him every few months, and he always comments on how much improvement he's seen in Hutton since last summer. That's always good to hear! Since I see Hutton every day, and his regular therapists see him a few times each week, it's easier for us to overlook his progress, I think.

I cleaned up the toys overtaking the house, and waffled over giving half of them away, as I do every time I clean up all the toys. I secretly buy the toys for myself, though, so I can't bear to part with them. (Remember, I have an enormous collection of Little People that I claim are for the boys.) I may have to buy a big Rubbermaid container to put half the toys in, then hide them away in the attic. Then, this summer I can pull them out and we'll all be so excited to see them again! Wow, is that a pirate ship? Awesome!

PopoZao - That's freaky! I had that phrase in my notepad, so when I control V'ed just now, it popped up. I was checking up on K-Fed's song earlier today. Check

This is just sad

I hate how these @$)(*#% advertisers screw up everything. I mean, the spam email is one thing. Usually the ads for V!agara, V$aliaum, etc. (yes, that's how they are misspelled, believe me!) go straight to my junk mail folder and I don't have to even look at them.

This is another thing all together:

"Captivating blog. I love surfing the web for thetype of blogs that you do. It had me on the edge of myseat and I kept going back to again and again!Go and find my wv west virginia house cleaning blog. "


Yeah, no thanks. Captivating blog? Er, that's a stretch. I read along until "It had me on the edge of myseat." You've gotta be kidding me! Guess it's time to turn on the word verification and hope that keeps these freaky housecleaners off my blog.

Same goes for you, vitamin salespeople!

Saturday in the House

I think it was the 4th of July. Sorry, an old Chicago song just popped in my head while I was typing the word, "Saturday." If you don't know which song it is yet, then you don't need to worry your pretty little head about it.

Just to clarify before continuing, I've never been a Chicago fan. I remember listening to the older stuff on the radio as a kid, but by the mid 80s, had written them off as any self-respecting cool 10-year-old should. Then Peter Cetera had his exciting solo career, which was equally spurned by the now cool 12-year-old. (Yeah, I wish I had been a cool 12 -year-old!) I remember seeing one of my 6th or 7th grade classmate's backpacks on the lunch table one day, and had to pity the poor girl (who was actually more popular than I, so I really didn't need to be the one pitying anyone) when I read the words written in ink on said Eastpak: "Peter Cetera / You're the Inpiration" I shook my head in disbelief that someone would actually write out the name and artist of such a sucky song in ink on her backpack, and to add insult to injury, to misspell it. At least she didn't write, "Your the Inpiration" though.

So, back to my exciting life. I am still at my computer at 11:00 am on a Saturday morning. I should be at the gym at the step class I've gone to the past month, but I stayed up too late reading in the tub. (Yes, I got to take a nice bath last night!) So, this morning when Hutton and Harrison woke up, and I could barely function to get out of bed, get Harrison out of the crib, feed the dogs, etc. I knew I was going to come up with an excuse for myself to not go to step class. I'm currently going with overtired and female issues. Ha. I never used that as an excuse in gym class in school, but now I'm using it as a adult to fool myself, and even I don't buy it.

I really like step class. Even though it's pretty 90s, it's motivating, and though I am a total spaz (remember, I was in remedial PE as a child) I feel quite accomplished when I can follow the "choreography" and learn the fancier 10 step moves. Plus, the teacher plays some good music. Not as good as the music from my old gym and step class (Buzz, the gay 50-something instructor played a whole class-worth of ABBA one time! Is there a bouncing-in-excitement emoticon somewhere?!), but still pretty good. Old Michael Jackson good.

Which leads me to:
http://music.msn.com/music/article.aspx?news=216036&GT1=7756

So, the new Katrina song is coming out. Sorry, Michael, but I don't think I'll like the song or really care. Off the Wall is still my favorite. You were so young, so talented, so black. So not using women's restrooms in a mall in Bahrain, getting off on molesting children (oops, I meant getting off in the legal sense, really), and so on.

Really, as of Bad, I was starting to look forward to the Weird Al versions as much as to your music.

Time to shower. My life seems to revolve around bathing, doesn't it?

I really want to take a bath...

But decided I should blog instead. There, are you happy now? Yes, I'm talking to you!

So, the past week I've wasted much time reading things online, which is a usual part of my life. One thing I read online that pissed me off a great deal was this article in the Seattle PI about Seattle school funding. Now, we're not even in the Seattle school district, but the article was incorrect about many financial things (it basically claimed that special education students take up more money than they should, money that should go to "normal" kids). Some quotes from the article:

"The problem Woolverton refers to is a multimillion-dollar budget deficit projected for several years, prompting district officials to consider closing some schools, reducing bus service, trimming the central office payroll and making other cuts. One service that can't be cut is special education, which gets one out of every nine dollars the district spends."

"A family moves in with three kids with autism, and suddenly you don't have a school marching band or the football season is canceled," Parrish said. "That's extreme, but it can happen."

OK, you're hating those evil special needs kids, now, right, gentle reader? Because of them, your child can't take the bus, play football or the piccolo! Well, as someone wrote in a few days later in a letter to the editor:

"Deborah Bach argues that children with special needs are draining funds from Seattle Public Schools. The numbers she reports, however, tell a different story. Bach notes that special education gets $1 out of every $9 the district spends. She also points out that the special education population in the district is slightly more than 13 percent of the total enrollment. How does spending 11 percent of the budget on 13 percent of the children create a deficit? If the numbers are accurate, special education students are helping reduce the red ink, not create it."

Yay! Someone with a brain. However, there's a little comment section on the online paper which had some horrible things on there. After reading these comments Wednesday afternoon, I went to my room, got in bed and cried. There were some positives, too, but two a$$#oles especially got to me.

Here's the first post by Ahole #1:

"Why are the unfortunate circumstances surrounding YOUR kid MY problem?My kids didn't make the baseball team. It's killing their self-esteem and ruining their chances to realize their dreams. I need more funding so that they can spend an hour a week with a couple of pro baseball players. Gimme! They deserve every advantage! Gimme gimme! They deserve our full support! Gimme gimme gimme! After all, it's for the children. They are our future. GIMME! GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME!!!!!!!"

Yes, dude, you're a sarcastic ass. Here's another post by this winner:

"For the record, I have nothing against educating the handicapped (or anyone else, for that matter). My beef is with those who would pick my pocket to do it. Your kids (and, if it applies, their handicaps) are not my responsibility."

Ok, dude, if you pay taxes, they are going to every public school kid's education, not just to special ed. Dunce. If you don't want YOUR money going to someone else's kids, you need to move somewhere without taxes, or, in the Bush-Cheney era, make $300,000 or more per year so you'll get some nice tax cuts.

Another guy (Ahole #2) was talking about euthanasia and abortion.

The positive was after all this, I checked on the site Thursday and some new posts were there that renewed my faith in humanity. But, on Wednesday, I was in a huge funk, thinking that my poor Hutton will have to live in a world full of bastards.

Well, I had more to post, but I really do want to take a bath!

Yes, I'm the worst blogger ever born. But this is just for me and my own personal growth, right? Yeah, cause only one or two other people know I'm here, except for the occasional person who ends up here on accident after googling some bizarre phrase I may have written.

Anyway, I just got back from dinner out with the Autism Moms. So nice to get out with other moms who know what it's like. Not to mention that my friend Amy, whom I consider a darker version of myself, and I split a $60 bottle of Merlot which was fantastic. It was half price wine night at the wonderful restaurant we went to, so it was only $15 each, which is practically the same price as a getting a couple glasses of house wine. Woohoo! In addition to the wine, I had half of a very good sirloin steak sandwich (other half is in the fridge for lunch tomorrow), a chocolate dessert that could serve a small tribe, and a coffee with Frangelico liqueur. Yummy! My stomach feels like it may be about to burst open with an alien spawn soon, but it was worth it to have my last meal be so good.

Back to Amy. I consider her my doppelganger, but who only looks kinda similar. Like an evil twin, but not so evil. Maybe my more unihibited self? I don't know the best way to describe her, but we have a weird bizarro life. We are often asked if we are sisters. We aren't. We are the same height, the same build, usually within 5 pounds of the same weight, had both of our children within 6 weeks of each other, both of our older sons have Autism, we both have freckles, we both love lattes and good wine, but aren't wine snobs, etc. However, whereas I am the "conservative liberal" (meaning I am a typically a shy person, conservative in manner and prone to be concerned what other people think of me, though I'm liberal politically), Amy is the tattooed, extremely forthcoming version of me. She's not afraid to tell people what she thinks. She's the me that I can be if I have enough to drink to "lubricate my speech."

So, Amy and I, along with three other moms went to dinner at this great restaurant and talked about our kids, our husbands, the various therapies, supplements, bio-medical approaches to Autism, etc. that our lives revolve around. It's always good to get out and talk this way with other moms. And as I learned in an RDI workshop today, it's very important to find your group. I'm a maple leaf, apparently. I never knew I was a Canuck, but hey, I've spend half my life in Washington state and New England. Not too far off! This stems from one of the exercises we did, in which each person was to grab a shape from the bag, and not looking at your shape or anyone else's, find the group of people who had the same shape. My shape was a rounded, asymmetrical maple leaf. Pretty to look at after the fact, but very difficult to figure out what the heck it was through touch alone.

The workshop was fun, and a great day away from my "real life." Of course, Jay complained (more than once) about the fact that he had to be in charge of the kids ALL WEEK because I had the nerve to go to a PTA meeting Monday night, host my book club Wednesday night, go to a workshop today (for our Autistic son's benefit, mind you), and then go out to dinner tonight. On Monday night when I went over the stuff going on this week (I have very, very rarely ever had more than one night a week Jay is required to "babysit" AKA father for a few hours) Jay had the nerve to get huffy about having to do all this with the kids. And he didn't even have to drive 30 minutes both ways to get Hutton to speech therapy today, and wait 2 hours for him while keeping Harrison entertained, which is a regular part of my Tuesday and Thursday mornings. I pointed that out today when he forgot he was supposed to watch the boys while I did this workshop. He really doesn't know his audience if he complains to me about having to do a few hours of bedtime duty 3 nights a week. I mean, come on, Harrison was still in his pajamas when I came home at 4 pm! Blah, blah, blah....

So, at dinner, we happened to bring up the topic of bigamy/polygamy. And, in my "well lubricated" state of mind (two glasses of darn fine merlot), I really think that sounded like a good idea for us ladies. You have another woman (or more) around to vent to, to help with the cooking, cleaning and child-rearing, and on those nights you just want to sit up late reading and not do your "wifely duty" (HA!) you send the ole hubby to wife(wives) no. 2 (3, 4, ....) . Now that I'm a cynical ole woman, I don't think that sounds so bad! Of course, I'd have to be Alpha wife, and I'd get to choose my friends to be the other wives.

The Joys of the Season -- Christmas Cards

It's that time of year again: the annual cards are arriving in the mail every day from far and near. So far we have only received 5 cards, but I'm sure next week will be big. I mailed my cards yesterday. Go, Laura! Of course, they were totally impersonal -- a picture of the boys in the snow (see my post from a few weeks ago) I had printed out online, slap on a computer-generated address label, a return address label and a Christmas stamp, and put a huge stack of them in the mail box. Ahh, relief!

Of the cards we have received, two are from the same extended family, who shall remain nameless. These have some issues I must address. The first included the "catch-up on the year" form letter. It was generally OK -- telling about the big events of this family, what the kids have been doing in school and extracurricularly.

The issue I had was everything was very, er, religious. Now, I'm not intolerant of religion. I try to be accepting of those with other religions. (Well, calling agnosticism/atheism a "religion" is a stretch.) Anyway, I am fine with Christians sending cards talking about remembering the "reason for the season," etc. I, personally, find the reason for the season to be about giving gifts to friends and loved ones, getting together with loved ones, etc. Yes, I am one of those horrible secular people who has turned Christmas into the Santa-centered holiday it now is. And I don't take offense at people wishing me "Happy Holidays" instead of Merry Christmas. I won't boycott Target because of this. I will continue boycotting Wal-Mart because it is evil, but I won't boycott a store because the employees get the Christians in a tizzy by saying "Happy Holidays" to be more inclusive of non-Christian Americans.

Anyway, back to the cards. The form letter brought up a few things that made me uneasy, but the main one was this: Billy Graham Crusade. The phrase just gives me chills.

The other card that I couldn't handle seemed OK until you read what was printed under the cute picture of the kids: "Merry Christmas from the Smith's" followed by the first names of the parents and kids. Now, this family's last name isn't really Smith. I am using Smith to protect the innocent -- the two boys pictured above the horrible grammatical error. It's possible the boys and their parents are actually property of "the Smith," but I doubt it. I just don't get it. The parents are both educated people who are pretty smart. Do they really not know that adding an apostrophe doesn't just make something plural? Now, I would give them the benefit of the doubt if their last name ended in X or something. "Merry Christmas from the Ajaxs" Hmm, that doesn't look right. Maybe I should do apostrophe X? Now, it would still be wrong, but understandable. More understandable if their last name was actually "X." But, it's not. It's a normal last name, that is made plural by adding a regular old S, not by adding an apostrophe S! Arrggh! And, I could also overlook this error if it were in an email message. But, it's not. It's in a Christmas card that they had printed out. Did they not even proof read this before they had it printed and sent out to family, friends and acquaintances (and grammar nazis)? Or is it nazi's?

I'm back!

And I'm tired! I keep going to bed too late at night. Last night I almost made it to bed before 11. Well, I was in bed, but I insisted on reading before turning out the light. Then when Harrison woke me up at 5 am, I was still feeling brain dead. Fortunately he went back to sleep!

My latest crazy idea: I'm going to write a novel. Or maybe a book of short stories. Well, I at least have an idea to start with. I've been thinking about it at night when I'm drifting off to sleep. I have my main idea, but then I keep coming up with problems. If I have to research this thing, it's not going to happen, so I'll see if I can solve the problems in some non-research way. Perhaps sci-fi, so I can have everything happen in a different world, with human-like beings, who don't necessarily act exactly like humans. That way I can have them do things humans wouldn't and no one can complain that my story is unrealistic. Yep, I'm getting ahead of myself. I have to write something first, before people can start tearing apart my writing!

Or maybe I'll use talking dogs....

Let the feasting continue!

I accidentally typed, "fasting" which is probably a better word for this blog!

Following the examples of Allison and Kristen, I give you

THE 10 THINGS MOST PEOPLE DON'T KNOW ABOUT ME

1. I'm a member of this group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/FisherPriceNewerLP/
I own about 500 of these plastic figures. It's a sickness, but I can't stop. I even took that picture on the website of the Nativity scene. Yep, those are part of my collection.

2. I finished 2nd in the 7th grade spelling bee. When I was watching the finals, the guy who beat me (and really didn't deserve to, since he got to spell the same word I'd just misspelled) missed a really easy word that I could have spelled with my brain closed. I coulda been a contender!

3. I have completed 3 sprint length triathlons.

4. I slept with a security blanket for many, many years. I still have Banky, but I don't sleep with him anymore. We have a platonic relationship now.

5. In grade school, I was in remedial PE. It was called COPE class, and involved lots of riding a scooter back and forth across the gym floor. I repressed this memory for several years, then remembered it in high school, and my mother confirmed that I, indeed, had had motor skills issues as a child.

6. I limped down the aisle when Jay and I got married (well, anyone who went to my wedding would know that...) . I had ACL surgery on my knee 6 weeks before hand, and it didn't heal properly. I had another surgery a year later, and now have a normal gait again, and my quadricep muscle back, which totally disappeared when I had my gimpy leg.

7. I got to see Jude Law do a nude scene in a play in London the summer I studied abroad. He was just a young guy starting out then. Every girl in my program had a crush on him after that play (and probably some of the guys, too - it was a theater program, after all!).

8. As a preteen, I had huge crushes on David Letterman and Alan Alda. So, so, pathetic! I watched two episodes of M.A.S.H., followed by Late Nite every weeknight. My girlhood crushes were more acceptable - Harry Hamlin from "Clash of the Titans" and the kid from "The Black Stallion."

9. In college I was a ropes course counselor (this involved getting up too early on Saturday mornings and sitting on a platform high in a tree), and was into rock climbing and the use of "cams and biners." Prekids, I also used to scuba dive and ski a lot. Don't I sound rugged and outdoorsy? Haha.

10. I went from being a super geek, ultra-involved honor student in high school to being a complete slacker/procrastinator in college. I guess that's what college is for, right? Well, I was involved in some clubs in college, but wasn't compelled to be the treasurer, president, director, vice-president or similar in any of them!

Getting Good Photos of Young Children is So Easy!

Can you smell the sarcasm in that title?

Last Friday I decided I'd take the boys to the mall to get some Christmas pictures, and hey, while I'm at it, Harrison's 18 month pictures done at the same time. Brilliant idea, Laura! Would you like to introduce a pack a wild dogs, a bloody carcass, and some baboons, as well, to liven things up?

So, I set up an appointment, dress the boys in their matching red sweaters and khaki pants, get some more floofy clothes for Harrison to wear, some goldfish crackers, hair gel and a comb, and baby wipes. I'm set!

We arrive at the photo place and get to wait about 20 minutes. That's always a great idea with the young kids. Keep 'em waiting! Then, the fun of the photo shoot starts. The photographer wants Hutton to kneel and hold Harrison's hands. Hutton doesn't know how to kneel, so his butt collapses on his heels, but hey, he's holding Harrison's hands, so that works. The photographer gets a few shots of this pose. Move on to the snowman prop. Hutton starts trying to lift it, takes the hat off, crushes the hat, etc.

OK, move on to the individual shots of Harrison. Things seem to go pretty well. I change his outfit a couple of times. He poses with a train prop while wearing a train outfit. I know these pictures will turn out great! We leave to go kill an hour at the mall.

Because the boys were both so good (relatively speaking), I take them for ice cream to kill time, as I only have the umbrella stroller for Harrison, and trying to shop with two young boys is always a bad idea. And we return to get the pictures....

Which are really sucky. The ones of Hutton kneeling, holding Harrison's hands, are OK, though Hutton has his weird half smile on, where it looks like he's using his tongue to press out his bottom lip. Plus this draws attention to the fact that he has a cold sore. Eh, they're OK, though. The snowman shot the photographer captured (and when I saw photographer, I mean the 18 year old who works there probably making $7 /hour) features Hutton trying to knock the snowman's hat into his frozen brain, while Harrison looks great. Of course the 2 pictures of Harrison are both bad. One is off center, and he looks disheveled. The other he is sitting, but has a terribly pained expression on his face. No train shots. So, out of the half hour of work (and I mean on my part, trying to get the boys to cooperate with having their picture taken), there are 5 pictures ranging from mediocre to really bad. I'm just not very happy that I've gone to all this trouble for 5 bad pictures.

I finally buy one of those poses of the boys together, figuring it's a good picture of Harrison, and not the worst picture Hutton's ever taken. Then I set up another appointment to bring Harrison back for his 18 month shots, because I still have a coupon, and I'm not going to waste a coupon, dammit!

Feast or Famine

Well, my blogging seems to be feast or famine -- three posts in one day, followed by several days of nothing! Then again, calling my posts "feasts" is a stretch, too. It's more like when I go too long between meals, then get hungry enough to eat at McDonald's, and get a combo meal and eat the whole thing. And then afterwards feel gross for stuffing my body with bad food.

Fortunately, the McDonald's thing doesn't happen too often, even though Hutton always asks for McDonald's, or "M Donald's", when we are leaving his speech therapy appointments on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I try to only get Hutton food there when we go, and wait and eat a better lunch at home. The problem is, we only have a half hour between speech therapy and the school bus pickup, so it's a rush to drive home and get him lunch, and "M Donald's" is so fast and easy....Of course, he always mentions going to M Donald's when we are at the speech therapist, so she thinks Hutton only eats crap, I'm sure!

The other day my sister ran into my best friend from high school in the grocery store. My friend, Sharling, had switched jobs a while back and lost my contact information, so got my email address from Emily and wrote me yesterday. We're going to try to get together when I go home to Nashville for Christmas next week, which will be good. She has a 19 month old son, so I'm sure Harrison and Hutton will love playing with him. It's very strange to think that it's been 10 years since Sharling and I have been really close. We drifted apart after college, when we both got real jobs, then I married Jay and moved to Florida. We've only seen each other a handful of times since then, and I would really like to keep in touch with her this time around.

Snow fun

After Harrison's nap, we went outside to enjoy the snow and wait for Hutton's bus to drop him off from school. We all had so much fun walking through the yard in the snow, and even Jay came out for a few minutes. Sally, one of our dogs, had the most fun, tearing around like a greyhound. Here are some pictures:

Cool NYC people news

My friend, Eva, lives in New York and works in the Bronx Zoo. Well, she doesn't work there, she works for the Wildlife Conservation Society, but her office is at the Bronx Zoo. Sounds cool, doesn't it?

And, as if that weren't cool enough (living in NYC and having an office in the zoo and getting to see the cool animals whenever she wants), she's married to a cool guy, too - Jeff. Jeff and his brother are independent filmmakers. They have made 3 or 4 films now. The first one, Suckerpunch, is one Jay and I own on DVD. It's a little, er, violent and disturbing, but interesting, nonetheless. And my friend Dawn's 3-legged dog, Mona, has a part in it! I haven't seen their other films yet, but these include, The Fittest and...wait for it...Ghetto Dawg II, Out of the Pits. So, I had heard from Dawn that the latest film was a departure from the more violent films. Well, The Fittest was, too, but that's beside the point. And Eva even got to do some sound effects in this one. I got this email today from her:

"Yeah, baby! Jeff's horror movie, Salvage, got into Sundance...yes, the top festival in the country. He is sooooo excited. And, an agent has already called offering to represent the Crook Brothers. Oh, please, please, please....we've been hoping and wishing for a little luck (and to get out of debt.) Talk to you soon!
Eva"

So, if you ever hear of the movie Salvage, run, don't walk, to see it! Hopefully it will actually show up in a theatre, as the earlier ones didn't make it to theatre, or were in some smaller film festivals.

A lovely, snowy day

Well, as you can see from my absence since Sunday, I am not doing well making this a daily log. But, I do what I can!

As you may have guessed from the title, it's snowing today. The first snow of the season here in Woodinville, and it's coming down in pretty, fluffy flakes and sticking to the trees and ground. The boys were both so excited by the snow, and when we got home this morning from Hutton's (yes, I'm going to call everyone by their real names, now, as I don't think anyone who ventures onto this blog will use them against me in any way!) speech therapy session, he rushed inside to get the snowflake magnet from his magnetic calendar. He showed it to me so proudly and said, "Snowflake!" and then we put it on the calendar to mark the first snow.

Hutton's therapy is going so well! I don't know if it's his biomedical stuff - he's done 6 rounds of chelation, which is a metal removal technique that helps the body detox, and the last round seemed especially helpful. The first 5 rounds were this spring, and then over the summer I took a long break for his body to try out different things, like a regular diet. Prior to the "regular" diet, he was on a gluten and casein free diet for about 9 months, and though we saw improvements at first, when we added gluten and casein back, his behavior seemed similar, and his speech continued to progress. He still doesn't drink regular milk, though he eats cheese and yogurt. On that front, I am planning to take him to another doctor to try NAET, an allergy elimination technique a few of my friends with autistic kids say has helped their kids.

Anyway, after his last round of chelation, he had some bad behaviors for about a week, which I think could have been from yeast overgrowth, which is a side effect of chelation sometimes. I treated him with an antifungal, and then a few weeks ago we went to his homeopath, and he was given his "remedy" again. So these things, in addition to his speech therapy, ABA therapy, supplements, and school are all playing a part in his progress, I'm just not sure which is the most helpful! But the past week in particular has been especially good -- he is now saying, "Look, Daddy/Mommy! I see a _____" instead of his old, "What's that?" which he would use to draw our attention to something, even when he knew what it was.

I my various readings, I saw there was yet another new yahoo group devoted to a new method of treatment for autism, using Valtrex and MB12. So, of course I signed up for that group, too, to add to the hours of reading I already do on all the autism boards. I find it quite funny (I won't use the term ironic, because I know what it really means!) that I am the parent who spends so much time reading up on autism and its possible causes and treatments, and half of my readings are very complicated medical and scientific reports I don't really understand. Reports that discuss ethyl versus methyl mercury, methyl sulfation in the brain, viruses, bacteria, vitamin supplements and what they do, etc., etc. Jay is the parent who spends 90% of his time watching the stock market, which is his new job, working from home day trading.

Now, I'm getting to my point. In college, Jay double-majored in computer science and...
CHEMISTRY! So, why I am the one making my head hurt trying to figure out if MB12 is better than regular old B12 at improving the methylation (I don't even really know what that means, and how it differs from sulfation) in the brain, if ALA alone or ALA + DMSA are better at chelating mercury, if using antivirals will help? Hmm, I don't know, but I guess it's like everything else in the life of the hausfrau -- if I don't do it, chances are it won't get done!