tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10057787259262054792024-03-14T04:13:12.637-07:00The Smile ConquestMy journey to appreciate my life through the recognition of and creation of smile worthy moments! As a mother of two, one of which was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome/ADHD, I've found that humor and reflection can go a long way...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.comBlogger120125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-52613497467283539892016-06-22T14:20:00.001-07:002016-06-22T14:23:01.564-07:00Five Years Later...It's been five years since my very first <a href="http://blog.smileconquest.com/2011/06/deciding-to-find-my-smile.html">post</a> and let me tell you, so much has changed!<br />
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When I started this blog, I needed more self-awareness and gratitude. Over the years, so much has changed. I didn't maintain the blog as much as I had hoped, but the personal growth certainly continued. Despite some personal ups and downs, I have found myself so much further along on my journey than I would have expected.<br />
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Despite having more children than I did when I started this quest (yep, I now have 4 kids), I have more patience, compassion and I'm finding time to try new hobbies, looking for the one that speaks to me most. Some have been great new experiences, and some were experiences in humility. Who am I kidding, most were, but I did get some good laughs anyway.<br />
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I am still learning more and more about myself and what I need to do to be the best person, mother and wife I can be, but I feel so much more content about where I am now. I feel like my relationships with my kids and my husband are stronger than ever and I can't wait to see what smiles the future brings for us.<br />
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I'll try to keep updating in more timely fashion and share some great smiles!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn0HcwbOk8gLLFhystJoXlrTLbxPfq-_1ggI7pg7f76JXzo8zth4mUAQWWPwsHa4IN_BjhjtJsnw1WbX2l1U_hlYZONihPZfBoTE56z2MKPihkwGBMpQ-I-d9zrkrZlTq-Pa7K90T0o34/s1600/IMG_3347.JPG" imageanchor="1"></a><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-27786223658629513702013-05-11T20:18:00.001-07:002013-05-12T06:25:32.802-07:00Smile Log 116: A Mother's Support and Appreciation<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">This time last year, I was deep in thought. My son was finishing his worst year of schooling filled with outbursts and meltdowns. I was getting regular calls from the school and he was getting more frequent detentions. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So what’s the solution? </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Well, the district says “We have a smaller class setting for him next year.” </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Sounds great!” I said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“But, it’s in another school,” they said. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Ugh, not so great,” I thought. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“He’ll share gym, lunch, and recess with the whole grade,” says the important people in suits.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“And you realize that’s when he has the most trouble and the times where he earns detention, right? You know that’s his biggest struggle, right? Handling large groups of kids during noisy and more chaotic times?” I said. “Umm... I was under the impression you guys might have been on the right track, but clearly that train derailed.” I depressively thought. So now what? </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I found myself reluctantly contemplating homeschooling. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yikes! Me? Homeschool? I’m no teacher! </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I have NO patience and how would I bring back all those long-ago forgotten facts? I thought most of it was pretty useless then and I’ve only lived to see that most of it was, indeed, useless to me now. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Well, no need to switch trains just yet. I’d mention it to my husband who'd think it’s ludicrous, which would lead to two scenarios. His logic would either make me see how crazy it really was or fuel my desire to prove him wrong. That will put me on track at least...”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Honey, I’m thinking maybe we need to homeschool.” </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“I think maybe we should, too.” </span></div>
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Say what?</i> He <i>agreed</i> to this??? Since when did he get on the homeschool bandwagon? That wasn’t a scenario I was expecting. Crap, now I’ve really got to start thinking about this because my man was backing me up on it. Full steam ahead? Not yet. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I read the laws on homeschool and they were cumbersome. Maybe homeschooling wasn’t the ticket. Not to mention, just about every other parent I shared my ideas with was basically saying I was crazy. That they could never, would never do it. The school staff didn't seem supportive either. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I needed honest advice. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Mom, what do you think about homeschooling?” I asked, steeling myself for an answer. After all, I wasn't even sure what I wanted to hear. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“I think you should do it. Obviously, you could do a better job than the school,” she declared without hesitation.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Yea, I don’t know about that. I mean, yes, his behavior has definitely gotten worse, but I can barely get through homework with the kid. And I have no idea what I’m supposed to teach or anything.” </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“When you were trying to figure out what was going on with your son, you researched everything. You read everything, you figured it all out. You knew more than some of the doctors you took him to and so I think you’d be great at homeschooling. You’ll put the same effort into that as you did when you were trying to figure out what was going on with him and how to get him help. You can do this! Besides, it would have to be better than waiting for the school to call again.” </span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I wasn't sure what I had wanted to hear from my mom, but it was exactly what I needed to hear. My mom's true faith in me. She didn't doubt for a second that I was up for the job. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So it began... Our homeschooling journey, with me as conductor and our two wonderfully unique kids as passengers, fueled by a few wise words and unending support. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I definitely had some difficult times there in the beginning. I stressed about curriculums. I worried whether or not they were really learning anything at all. There were days when I would call my husband in tears, distraught over how long it took my son to get through a lesson because he had the attention span of a dog in a field of squirrels. I cried over feeling under-appreciated and overworked. Didn’t these kids know that I was giving them my all? Couldn’t they just do a little work without acting like I was telling them to cut the grass with a pair of kiddie scissors?! In the words of my daughter, “Grrr...”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">But my husband was there for me. “Hang in there, babe.” He always found a way to reassure me. “You know, I tell people all the time about how you’re homeschooling and doing great. I brag about you.” Even when I wasn't thinking I needed to hear it, he was there with his appreciation and support. "I think what you've done has been great for our family. You really have done an amazing job."</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So, though we had a rocky start that felt all uphill, our journey eventually got smoother. I learned to enjoy the ride and take in the scenery. I had two kids that were actually soaking it all in with me. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And, here I am, a year later. They love it. We do schoolwork, hands on learning, and field trips and we can come and go all we want. Sure, they’ll try to weasel their way out of as much real work as they can, but they’re doing just fine. It feels like a gift when my son goes into an unprompted lecture of plant fertilization. I feel recharged when my daughter tells me what time it is or multiplies to solve an every day problem. What more could a homeschool mom ask for?</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Recently, my son's school therapist said that he was so much happier and going with the flow better. She’s been thrilled with his progress. I’ve had at least three teachers stop me to tell me they could tell I was doing what was best for my son and it clearly was the right choice. I can’t express how much that fills me with appreciation for the support I had this year. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My mother’s and husband’s support and their faith in me got me through. Every time I doubted myself, I had encouragement. When I was ready to send those deviants packing and back to school, I had a reminder of what a great job I’d been doing. I’ve had lots of support throughout the year from many people, but I wouldn’t have even gotten on board this crazy train if it weren’t for my mom and my husband. You've brought smiles to not only me, but to my children as well. As their mom, nothing means more to me. </span></div>
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<b>Thank you for this and so much more.</b><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-59903774484881758432012-01-15T19:44:00.000-08:002012-01-16T15:36:07.318-08:00Smile Log 115 PersistenceResearch dyslexia, clean, email to advocate, clean up more, email to special education teacher, shave the dog, conference call with advocate, more pet care, conference call with special education teacher, research dysgraphia, remove dog hair from all over me, try to get binder organized for CSE meeting, google special needs apps, put a call into <a href="http://www.wihd.org/">Westchester Institute for Human Development</a> to find out how that speaker at the recent SEPTO meeting organized her sons' IEP binders and so on and so on... That was one of my mornings recently. JUST the morning!<br />
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With my son's CSE meeting to discuss possible assistive technologies coming up in the next few days, I've got my brain in hyper advocate mode. Honestly, I live in advocate mode most times, but I really ramp it up prior to any meetings. <i><b>And it's exhausting.</b></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">It's easy to feel alone and burdened in the pursuit of information when you're so desperate for that magic piece of knowledge that will take us in the direction of happiness we are seeking. Much like Mr. Wonka's Glass Elevator, I'd love to push a button and soar to the factory room with an all new and amazing device that will instantly print, edit, organize, record my son's thoughts, and assist him to know what to write! Wait, strike that, reverse it. Despite not finding that wondrous device as of yet, I continue to seek it and anything similar. </span></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">But as I said, it can be very troublesome to have your brain tuned into one train of thought so heavily and to know that so few others around you are going through the same thing. How do you put your mind to ease? </span></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Well, I have found a few ways. </span></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><b>Laugh, smile and breathe.</b> I laughed as I fell in the snow with my kids. I smiled watching my son zip down a hill on a snow board on his first day of trying. I enjoyed a beer amongst good company on a Saturday night in a bar that had historical prints of Benjamin Franklin next to the entrance of a strobe lit dance floor. </span></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">I found the humor in the hoards of women seeking endless freebies and discounts while wearing big stickers stating their purpose in the world ("bride, maid of honor, mother of the bride, bridesmaid"). I closed my eyes and breathed in and out before bed... letting it all go for just a few minutes. And sometimes, I feel better when I smile for no reason at all. </span></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><b>Support!</b> Find some! Yes, I talk to family and friends, but I've also found that you can gather great strength from others going through the same thing. I joined the local Special Education Parent Teacher Organization and have strengthened my advocate skills, extended my knowledge and shared/received advice with other parents. I also joined the website <a href="http://MyAutismTeam.com/">MyAutismTeam.com</a>. It's kind of like Facebook for parents and providers of those on the autism spectrum. You can seek advice, whine about your day, rave about your day for that matter, and their provider section is fantastic for learning about and rating services. It's a really great site and has even better intentions. </span></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><b>Music. </b>Find what works for you and go with it. Let loose (See <a href="http://blog.smileconquest.com/2011/06/day-1-first-big-smile.html">Day 1 The First Smile Big Smile</a>) . I personally like to sing and dance along and I pity the person who would ever think to ask me to stop. You'll know if it happens as there will be a large mushroom cloud above my house. </span></i><br />
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I know I won't lighten up on the researching until I'm satisfied. I don't give up easily after all. Even little Charlie Bucket found that last golden ticket when he thought all hope was lost. The key is that Charlie had hope and smiles despite his struggles and I intend to do the same.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-69409099549879581782012-01-14T22:40:00.000-08:002012-01-14T22:45:09.441-08:00Smile Log 114: No Dead End to Smiles<br />
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My son likes rock music. He pretty much always has. I'm talking Linkin Park, The Who, Faith No More... In first grade, he expressed his displeasure with music class. "We sang Skinnamarinky Dinky Dink! I don't want to sing <i>that</i>!! I want to sing <i>rock and roll</i>!!" Honestly, I didn't blame him for his contentment. I'd want to skinnamarink someone's dinky dink if I had to sing that atrocity repeatedly. </div>
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A local band of high schoolers called <i><a href="http://youtu.be/6W6ulDYgS_c">Dead End</a></i> were playing in town and I thought it would be a good opportunity to let the kids check them out. Well, my daughter said she'd prefer to stay home as it would hurt her precious little ears (her words, not mine), so it was just me and my little rocker. </div>
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I wasn't sure how well my son would receive the noise level and crowd of the bar. Would he become overwhelmed and lose control of his body? Would he withdraw into a doe eyed silence? Or would he be just fine? Throw in the fact that he's on his ADHD medication and you have to accept the possibility that he could become upset and weepy over any little thing. That's the trouble with sensory issues, overstimulation is life altering... and a bit of a bitch (pardon my french). So what would it be tonight?...</div>
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He definitely seemed a little withdrawn in the beginning, but I told him we could easily leave at any time and he certainly seemed to perk up more as the evening went on. Despite the smiles he flashed at me, I wasn't sure if he was actually enjoying the event though. We talked about the songs being played, about the decorations on the bar shelves and after an hour, he gave the word. "Leave." I guess he wasn't actually enjoying himself after all. While disappointing, I was glad that I tried. </div>
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Once we were buttoned up and out the door, and I mean the second we were outside, he exclaimed "That was <i><b>awesome</b></i>!" </div>
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Hey, that's a success and that's a smile that I can rock, even while I'm trying to get Nirvana out of my head! </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-16629090569187663252012-01-12T07:15:00.000-08:002012-01-12T07:15:02.395-08:00Smile Log 113: Birthday SmilesI woke <i>up</i> smiling today. It's hard not to when your son comes running in and announces "I'm 10 years old today!" Yep, it's his birthday and he was overjoyed.<br />
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He was, by far, the happiest I've seen him in a very long time, discussing his plans for the doughnuts that I would be bringing into the class and ensuring that I had enough for the three extra kids that join his classroom occasionally.<br />
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Upon arriving to his school to drop off the much anticipated doughnuts, I was greeted by the principal. He happily shared with me that he heard it was a big day! How did he know this? The principal patted me on the back and shared that my son stepped off the bus, declared that it was his birthday and did a dance for good measure!<br />
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Stepping off the bus, he was still smiling! He was a happy kid! Then, he saw his gifts on the table! Excitement exuded once again!<br />
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He ran down to see the cake I made in the fridge and even from upstairs, I could hear the "THAT IS <b>AWESOME</b>!!" that boomed from below. It doesn't show well in the photo due to the colors, but it's a skateboard cake. Check out <a href="http://familyfun.go.com/recipes/spiffy-skateboard-cake-686412/">Disney Family Fun</a> for the directions as it was really easy and very customizable.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHjhGE2ER1Sk3ovUBr9KsSyxB4_uC8UThAbjkuRhumhvS7YEB6wVt0XD0LnUvaopCwQZSuY_Y3U5rAGXsft3sjUi38xhgcKH53ByHMwb6kqTKBOfAQLYYF47uC2KKedl5YAVdptd1M0EQ/s1600/IMGP9662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHjhGE2ER1Sk3ovUBr9KsSyxB4_uC8UThAbjkuRhumhvS7YEB6wVt0XD0LnUvaopCwQZSuY_Y3U5rAGXsft3sjUi38xhgcKH53ByHMwb6kqTKBOfAQLYYF47uC2KKedl5YAVdptd1M0EQ/s320/IMGP9662.JPG" width="204" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We had a great evening of playing darts and Jenga, followed by pizza and cake, and all was laughing and having a good time. Joined by family and friends (thanks to technology, those who couldn't be here were there through iChat), we enjoyed the company of our loved ones and cherished the moment. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So, my boy is 10 years old! Double digits, as one person put it, is eye opening for me, but if the rest of the year holds the same amount of happiness for my son as today did, I will gladly embrace my son growing up. I see what can be for him and how deeply happy he can be with himself and with the possibility of the day and future. No worries, no tension, just happiness. That's worth at least 10 years of smiles to me and nothing less. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Happy Birthday Son! </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-89185278694653951522012-01-09T20:43:00.000-08:002012-01-09T21:12:31.766-08:00Smile Log 112: Suckish to SmilingSo I know it's been awhile since my last post, and I'd love to have some major excuse for taking so much time away from my lighted keyboard, but the truth is simple. I got into a funk of not having the time and energy to grind out a daily smile. Oh, I've had plenty about which to smile and of course I've had plenty with which to antagonize myself and all of that should have made for good writing, but I believe I just got burnt out trying to come up with clever writing every night (and considering how few of my previous posts I could actually consider clever doesn't boost me).<br />
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But I'm back tonight. Maybe not every night, but I'll be checking in more frequently and trying not to take things too seriously.<br />
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So now to my smiles...<br />
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After getting my boy up and off to his bass lessons (thankfully, the burden of hauling the ginormous bass to school in the morning has naggingly been placed upon my husband.. thanks dear) and my girl on the big yellow bus, I was up to my elbows in dirty turtle tank. The last place you're going to find a smile. Trust me on this.<br />
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But what brought on my smiles today came long after the reptiles were swimming in cleaner waters and I, too, had my own thorough showering. They occurred in the company of my children, as usual, and they were the kind that built up from the <i>I'm happy to see you today </i>smile to the <i>I'm so proud to know you</i> smile.<br />
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I picked up my kids and the bass today (unfortunately, the burden of hauling the ginormous bass home from school falls upon me... you're welcome dear) and immediately I'm greeted by my son. I didn't get the "Hi, Mom!" or a "Hello!" or even a "HHOOONNNNKK!" which is quite the norm actually... for us at least.<br />
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"Mom, I need new Beys! Mine are suckish!!" he says to me with a mix of desperation and contentment in his eyes (by the way, for those of you without toys in your life, Bey Blades are glorified spinning tops.) I can see the possible tears in our very near future and that I'm probably going to take the blame for it somehow.<br />
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"Suckish, huh?" I say with a smile.<br />
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"Yes, no one will trade with me because mine aren't fast enough and they said they are suckish!"<br />
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Poor fella, life is hard when your tops don't spin fast enough to knock out other tops. Meanwhile, my daughter is skipping over to me and greeting me with a squeezing hug around my arm and a great big smile.<br />
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"So, do you know what type of Bey isn't suckish?" I reply, also with a smile.<br />
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It turns out he did know what he needed and planned a trip to the store immediately. But, oh no.. he's foiled by the dreaded MOM and her MOM-Dictated routines! Said routine is to go home, have a 15 minute break with a snack, then do homework. Everything else happens afterwards.<br />
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This, I just knew, would send him into those awaiting tears... Ahh, but no. He accepted the routine without any issue (Yippee) and I got to hear all about the awesome Beys on the way home with my daughter's random questions about what dogs are actually saying when they're barking. Hey, that's what it's like riding in <i>my</i> car. And I LOVE it. It makes me smile.<br />
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Just when I thought I'd gotten away with diverting attention away from the store, I realized that my beloved routine would still be upset. He wanted a non-suckish Bey, and he was going to get one. He went straight to work on his homework. No 15 minute break happening today! See ya later snack!<br />
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I hear him tell his little sister "If we get our homework done quicker, we can probably go to the store afterwards." Homework was done in half the time despite having extra pages to do. I couldn't help it. I had to smile over all of that! To see him set a goal and stay on task to accomplish it was like seeing angels appear to save me from the task of cooking! It was pretty darn miraculous, amazing, and unlikely to happen no matter how much I prayed for it.<br />
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So yes, we went to the store. He used his own money to buy new suck-less Beys and I even gave him space to thoroughly peruse that section of the toy aisle in private (I'm a helicopter mom so moving a few aisles down away from him was a big step for me despite the fact that he was in full view anyway).<br />
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Once home, we were all around the table together and no one was arguing. SMILE!! The Bey Blader was opening his new stash and modifying them to his need while my girl was painting her new horse piggy bank while discussing all the possible color choices a horse could be (I declared it was a horse of a different color, but I think the <a href="http://blog.smileconquest.com/2011/09/day-79.html">Wizard of Oz reference</a> was lost on her). It doesn't get much better than that really. No melt downs. No arguing. No HHOOONNNNKKing. Just smiles all around.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-75118570409490564922011-10-24T19:39:00.000-07:002011-10-24T19:39:27.216-07:00Day 111 Singin' AwayYep, much to the chagrin of those around me, I've got the headphones on and I've been singing away. It melts the stress away from the day and it makes me feel better. Enough Said!<br />
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I feel like sharing... I was in an oldies mood. They're fun and get you movin'!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/RfyFI-4ZsaE?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Ain't Too Proud to Beg </i>The Temptations! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/6SNtIOfuszg?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>My Mistake (Was to Love You)</i> Diana Ross & Marvin Gaye</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-72142368367167308542011-10-24T09:24:00.000-07:002011-10-24T09:30:32.273-07:00Day 110 Soldering It TogetherI went out to get a few items from the craft store and ended up in the jewelry making aisle. Let me say upfront, I have absolutely no talent in the craft arena. I have attempted all sorts of hobbies and tend to fail miserably at them.<br />
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</div><div>But... I saw a puzzle piece pendant, the symbol of autism awareness due to the puzzling condition. I have been wanting one of those that I could wear, but I hadn't really seen any that harkened to me. This particular pendant was a bit large and was supposed to be decorated with tiny crystals to color it to your particular awareness preference. I wasn't particularly keen on sparkly crystals, so I almost put the pendant back. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Then... Some pretty cool charms caught my eye and I saw that they already had bracelets that I didn't have to "make" or buy special closures and what not. It looked pretty simple. I picked out an uber industrial looking bracelet and some nostalgic charms to go with it. I knew my son would love the charms.</div><div><br />
</div><div>After simply adding the charms, I decided to change the tiny toggle that the bracelet was already equipped with. This is where the proverbial shit hit the fan and the craft reminded me that in his ring, I get knocked down. A little tiny ball fell off a tiny pin that held the bracelet together. It all hinged on the pin. </div><div><br />
</div><div>My husband got out the soldering iron (We have one of those things? Cool... Can I make little tiny sculptures out of paper clips or something? Wait, one craft bout at a time.) and that little wheel of solder (is that what that wire looking thing is called?). We managed to just make a new ball on the end of that tiny little pin. There were quite a few tries and that craft sure tried puzzling us with all its bobbing and weaving, but we soldered and succeeded. Craft defeated!</div><div><br />
</div><div>Now, I have this really cool bracelet to show for it and a way to show my support for a puzzling condition that will not defeat us either. I can't wait to add more charms when I find ones that my daughter will like as well. I need a few that will down play the size of the puzzle piece a little, but I don't mind that charm being a little big anyway. It makes me smile...</div><div><br />
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-47468696385787807572011-10-22T18:28:00.000-07:002011-10-22T18:33:32.606-07:00Day 109 Aspy Meets AspyI had been awaiting this day for a few weeks. The local library hosted a presentation and book signing by Jesse A. Saperstein, author of <u><a href="http://www.jessesaperstein.com/jsaperstein-buythebook.htm">Atypical: Life with Asperger's in 20 1/3 Chapters</a></u> and there was no way I was going to miss that. Better yet, I was going to take my son. As far as we know, he hasn't met another Aspergian and I felt like this would be a great opportunity for him to see a fellow Aspy who was not only showing success, but confidence as well, after a life of dealing with antagonists, misconceptions and a turbulent transition into adulthood.<br />
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</div><div>My son has expressed how he can feel alone at times. Through photography and his explanation of his art, he has conveyed a feeling being different and solitary, and believe me, as his mom, that's never easy for me to hear. That said, I want him to feel comfortable with his feelings, accepting of his differences and know that there are others who feel very much the same way. Hell, it seems to me that we all would want feel that way, right? This was the day where he could see that there are others like him, even in his own community.</div><div><br />
</div><div>We got there early, and as more and more people took their seats, I found myself watching the mannerisms of those that settled in to see if I could spy other Aspergians and maybe another parent with whom I could make a connection. But then Jesse entered. </div><div><br />
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</div><div>After watching the YouTube video of one of his presentations (the one above) and reading his book, I knew what to expect to an extent. While, I was not surprised by his candor or frankness, I wasn't expecting his compassionate ability to think on his feet for the sake of another in an uncomfortable position. At one point in today's talk, he held up a mirror and asked us all to take time to look into our mirrors at home and say a positive thing about ourselves. He offered up the opportunity for someone in the audience to share something special about themselves while looking into his mirror. Two boys had gotten up and made comments that left them radiating with pride. But one boy just couldn't think of anything at first. Then, he returned to say that he was horrible at math and he wasn't able to get past that. With quick wit, Jesse turned the statement around to make the comment become a more positive statement regarding honesty and that boy returned to his seat with a smile.</div><div><br />
</div><div>My son struggled to control himself during the presentation. He chose not to take his ADHD medication, and without it, he has less self-restraint. During times that he feels a bit uncomfortable, overwhelmed or even bored, like today where he probably felt a little of all of that at various times, he can find it difficult to be still. He may rock a bit, kick his legs, slightly roll his head, fidget with his fingers, make awkward facial expressions and even talk childishly. I believe it's his form of stimming, but since his symptoms of Asperger's is milder than many on the spectrum, his stimming is usually a little milder as well. When he's on medication, those actions are non-existent so many don't realize he even has those behaviors. Despite seeing many of the kids in the audience with the same difficulties, it's still difficult for me to watch. I just know what kind of misjudgement that type of behavior can bring upon him, and I'd love to protect him from all forms of erroneous impressions no matter how unrealistic that may be. Seeing Jesse describing how he manages these behaviors, I have hope that my son will find his way as well.</div><div><br />
</div><div>As we stood in line for the book signing, my son showed more of his stimming. When we got to Jesse, he childishly said "Hello"with eyes wide and a mouth even broader. He continued his silly voice to answer when Jesse asked him what he was going to be for Halloween. I tried to break the ice for my son a bit, by getting him to share what he liked best about Jesse's presentation. With normal voice returned, he shared his excitement over an anecdote involving a Studebaker (the antique car aficionado that he is grasped onto that one small mention of a car). He then preceded to contradict the man about the size of a Studebaker. Oh boy... Well, it's not an ideal discussion, but I do like seeing him show confidence. Confidence dispels stimming. </div><div><br />
</div><div>We both left smiling about what we heard and learned about compromise, understanding, and acceptance. I certainly felt motivated to continue to advocate, and surprisingly more motivated to continue with my writing. My son hasn't completely shared his thoughts on today with me yet, but based on his smiles, I think he did get more from it than a Studebaker comment. But then again, I guess that could've just been the candy he got from waiting in line. Nah, I don't think so. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I know I got a lot more of out of it. Even his inscription gave me a thrill and a little more clout with my boy. The last line of the note stated to my son that his mom is awesome. Now, I know he doesn't know me from Adam and he was being gracious, but I sure don't think my son needs to know that! It brought a smile to my face and made me walk just a little bit taller. Awesome is something to live up to at least and I'll do whatever I can to be just that. So thank you, Jesse A. Saperstein, for the lessons of a lifetime and for the simple yet meaningful accolade. I look forward to seeing your future endeavors and will be cheering you on along the way!</div><div><br />
</div><div>Please check out Jesse's website, <a href="http://jessesaperstein.com/">jessesaperstein.com</a>, to view his blog, <a href="http://www.jessesaperstein.com/blog/">The Atypical Blog</a>, and to learn more about Jesse, his amazing feats (like hiking the 2,174 mile Appalachian Trail) and Asperger's Syndrome. I highly recommend his book, <u><a href="http://www.jessesaperstein.com/jsaperstein-buythebook.htm">Atypical: Life with Asperger's in 20 1/3 Chapters</a>,</u> as well. I found it funny, enlightening and well worth my time. </div><div></div><div><br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-76098213255688588812011-10-21T21:15:00.000-07:002012-01-10T09:48:06.072-08:00Day 108 (Sort of)--Braving a New SmileI've been on hiatus due to going out of town and having a crummy time. I should've taken the time to find a smile no matter what was happening that was making me stray from my personal <i>second star to the right</i>, but I'm breaking away from the deviated path and finding my way back to <a href="http://blog.smileconquest.com/2011/06/deciding-to-find-my-smile.html">Never Never Land</a> once again.<br />
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My motivation to get going again? My children showed great courage today. Others may not have even noticed it or seen the importance of it, but my heart felt it and my smile returned.<br />
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My son stepped off the bus by himself today because his sister had joined an after school activity, and as he slipped out of his shoes and headed toward the pantry, he began to tell me a little about his day. Usually, I hear about the latest and greatest toy that all the kids are into right now and how someone has a rare one of whatever that toy is. Yep, I heard about all that today too, but he told me about something else that happened.<br />
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He told his friend, a friend he considers to be his best friend, that he has ADHD and Aspergers. He has never shared that with any of his peers before. He explained to me that his friend asked him what Aspergers was and my son said he wasn't sure. <i>It's a syndrome </i>he tries to clarify. Apparently, this spawned a conversation where my son said that this <i>syndrome</i> can cause him to get mad. This friend of his, whom I really enjoy and I am thrilled my son has in his life, must have thought this sounded pretty cool... kinda like the Hulk maybe. He asked if my son could get mad now! Love it.<br />
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His friend didn't treat him differently or ridicule him. He probably (actually, I'm pretty positive) already realized that my son could get mad easily anyway, but he didn't make my son feel ashamed. My son shared this sensitive information for the first time and it was a very big and brave step for him. I'm so very happy over it.<br />
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My daughter's display of bravery was a little different, but smile inducing all the same. Tonight, during a personal safety/anti-bullying demonstration held during a cub scout meeting, she joined in the activities as the only girl. Standing up next to boys wearing uniforms, and wearing her purple dress, flower headband and sparkly light up shoes, she tried her best to keep up and stand up tall next to the boys. This was after she was too afraid to walk across the gym to join them until they became close enough that she could slip into the line undetected. While the kids sat and listened to the instructor, she paid attention. When the instructor asked questions, she sat still... except once. She bravely raised her hand and spilled forth the answer in her tiny voice. For my very shy and anxious little girl, that was a big deal. I was so thrilled that she raised her hand! After hearing all the boys loudly vocalizing their "Yes SIR" and "Thank you SIR" replies, I expected to hear her get lost in the mix, but she spoke up without a problem. In my eyes, she shown brighter than the purple dress and twinkling shoes.<br />
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I welcome my smiles with open arms and put aside the infractions that pushed it from me.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-17854553329135701442011-10-06T20:20:00.000-07:002011-10-06T20:20:46.846-07:00Day 107 Hey MomHey Mom. Two words that never fail to make me look and, in general, make me smile. My daughter rarely says these words together. If she needs me, she just says Mom. If she is greeting me, it's a much more showy display. Something along the lines of "Mooommm!" in a growly, ecstatic way and she runs to me, grinning ear to ear, to tackle me around the waist. I would tell how much that just wraps me up with love and joy, but I'll spare you.<br />
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My son is the one that uses the "Hey Mom" phrase. He typically has two inflections. There's the "Hey, Mom?" which has a slight rise in his voice that lets me know to prepare for a question that could involve me either doing something completely simple or turning down a completely irrational request. "Um, sorry bud. We can't build a cannon today..." or "Well, I'm pretty sure you need a special permit to build a full size rocket in the backyard."<br />
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But the other way he he says "Hey Mom" is when he's greeting me. His greeting is the antithesis of my daughter's. It's completely nonchalant and monotone, but occasionally I will get an "Oh, Hey Mom" which makes me feel like he wasn't expecting me or something. I love the way he greets me, though. He gets off the bus, sees me and "Hey Mom." He then walks right past me into the house.<br />
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Today, when I heard his greeting, I really did smile. When ever I get a call in the middle of a weekday, I cringe! Really, I do. Today was no exception. I answered the phone and it was, <i>*Sigh,</i> the school nurse. My boy wasn't feeling so well.<br />
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As I got to the school and started to walk towards the building, I hear "Hey Mom." The window to the nurse's office was open and was calling out to me from inside. I smiled before I even saw him, and then I looked up and he was smiling at me. This is where I would say that I felt like my heart could've just burst from loving that kid so much, but I'll save you from that type of saccharine mush.<br />
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Speaking of mushy yuckiness, my son got sick in the car and my daughter wasn't too thrilled about that. I hear "Uh, Mom, it doesn't smell so good" from my daughter. Just picture this... She's pinching her nose with her right hand, her left shoulder is up against her left ear (covered by huge headphones already) and she's reaching across the top of her head to put her left hand over her right ear (also covered by huge headphones already) and all the while, she's desperately trying to continue playing her video game (which is why she's wearing headphones). I guess she didn't want to hear or smell any thing that involved my son being sick. She's taught me many things, and one of which is how to cover both ears and plug your nose at the same time. She was much happier when I pulled over quick at a gas station to throw out the throw up. Actually, I think we all were...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-8780143511870549752011-10-05T21:50:00.000-07:002011-10-05T21:52:22.664-07:00Day 106 Justly KindI'm a bit behind on getting my thoughts down today. If I have a prayer's chance of getting up in the morning, I had better keep this one short.<br />
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I will take the time to say that I'm still loving my son's teacher! We had our second monthly meeting (that's right, she offered to meet with me monthly just to see how things are going) and I explained that there are significant improvements in my son's stress levels (yay!!), but he was still having social issues on the bus. I went into the story about what happened recently when my son decided to demand that he be given his seat back (he used please). Her reply was awesome! She instantly understood that my son wasn't the instigator and the worst he did was stand up for himself. Why should he be a doormat anyway? Hoorah! Now, she wasn't saying he should start fighting anyone, but if he's being targeted, why can't he verbally speak out? Some may not agree, but I liked her attitude. I felt better that she saw his side of the story, and knew he was a good kid who would stand up against what he thought was wrong. Why should we suppress that?<br />
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I get a smile out of how he will hold the door open for others, say thank you when I get him a drink of water, but I love hearing about when he saw that a boy left his lunch box behind and he personally ensured that it was returned to the classmate. I love seeing him wave and smile at a boy that has special needs and isn't always socially accepted by peers (and right after he waved to that boy, an older girl made an ugly face at my son... yea, my kid's the problem here). When he complained about a classmate that shut the door on another classmate with crutches instead of holding the door open, I can't help but think he will be the kid who will not tolerate injustice.<br />
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He's a good boy...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-71555381972545476962011-10-04T20:46:00.000-07:002011-10-04T20:47:01.103-07:00Day 105 Walking TallI felt like being a little taller today. Maybe the whole <i>stay at home mom</i> thing has been getting to me, but I have had a desire to kick it up a notch when I do the whole <i>away from home mom</i> thing, so I went for the heels today. I didn't have a whole heck of a lot to do really, but I wasn't about to stay home in my pajamas all day.<br />
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</div><div>The shoes hurt the ball of my feet. And the feeling in my pinkie toe on my left foot will hopefully return by tomorrow, but who cares! I walked like I was born with those shoes on! I stood up straight, and <i>tried</i> to look important. The point is <i>I</i> felt good! </div><div><br />
</div><div>After the kids got off the bus and homework was done, we headed out to the library. Yes, I wore the heels again. By then, the numbness had started in so I had nothing to lose. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I love our local library! It's huge for one thing, for a small town at least. The staff is great there, they have amazing programs and it's all around fantastic. My daughter made a beeline to the Junie B. Jones books and I'm proud of the fact that she knew where they were! Then, my son had it in his head to get a skateboarding book for the non-fiction section, so upstairs we trotted! <i>He</i> knew exactly where those books would be located. On the descent from the second floor, a librarian commented on my daughter's great shoes and my daughter beamed brighter than her light up shoes!</div><div><br />
</div><div>During my own book search (I wasn't nearly as prepared as my kids), I looked back to ensure my crew was in tow. Yep, but how they managed to stick with me is a mystery as both of them had their noses in their books and their eyes glued to the pages. They both managed to tear themselves away and I lead them to the audiobooks section. </div><div><br />
</div><div>After listening to Artemis Fowl during our last four hour car ride, my kids have decided that listening to a book is <i>way</i> better than actually reading one! There are cool accents! My son had a couple of books he wanted to read, but had been intimidated by their huge size (and to be perfectly honest, they would take him FOREVER and he's required to read 25 books this year so we can't take that long). He hopped on the computer and requested the titles. He felt quite accomplished!</div><div><br />
</div><div>Then, there she was! The substitute teacher that taught my son during the best three months of third grade, when his teacher was on maternity leave. She was happy to see him, she asked how he liked school, she encouraged him. She also asked me who his teacher was and new that it really mattered! I loved her! She should be cloned! She's now in a different district due to cuts, but of course my son still gets to see his less than favorite teacher from last year on a regular basis. Grrr... But that's okay, because he's doing great anyway and walked away from the chance meeting with a big smile! </div><div><br />
</div><div>During check out, a librarian greeted my son who was front and center. She said "Hey, weren't you in the first grade book club?! I remember you!" He lit up! She remembered him! He loved that group, but it had been a long time since those meetings! He was rolling in pride! </div><div><br />
</div><div>This morning I wore heels to be taller. By the end of the library trip, I walked taller simply because my kids were radiantly happy! I didn't need the heels after all and I'm sure my feet would have preferred that I would have figured that out much sooner than I actually did. Heh, they'll heal! </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-10966390620638329392011-10-03T21:03:00.000-07:002011-10-03T21:03:56.477-07:00Day 104 Supported SmilesThis time last year, I was worried beyond stress about what was going on with my son. The hours of homework that he couldn't complete, the frozen way in which he attempted to write and yet, couldn't manage to get anything on paper, the daily struggles socially and the constant learning I had to accomplish to make his life better took it's toll on me.<br />
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I read book after book, went from one type of physician to the next, stayed in constant communication with the school, cried through psychologist appointments, hovered over homework and projects, and provided reminders to chew food and brush teeth and, believe me, there was no turning it all off at night. It was always on my mind. What should I be doing now to help my son? It caused me to be tired, stressed out, and tense to the point that my back muscles jumped when rubbed.<br />
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All of that worry and studying has done us tremendously well! My son now has a diagnosis, he has an Individualized Education Program (IEP) along with an educational support team unlike any we've ever had. I'm still learning and I'm still advocating for my son, but I'm not so worried anymore.<br />
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I am finding support as well. With the Special Education Parent Teacher Organization (SEPTO), I have been able to meet other parents with the same concerns as I. Every child is unique, but every parent shares the same concerns. To hear what other parents are going through and to also hear what makes their child so damn awesome! I felt like I was part of a unit. I shared my experiences, concerns and plans and I listened while other moms and dads did the same.<br />
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I feel like I can <i>relax</i> a little now! Oh, I'm ever vigilant when it comes to finding solutions to help us during trying times and my whole body shutters when I read "Main Office" on the caller ID, but I go to bed thinking of my music or fall asleep while giving myself a reiki treatment. I haven't had to go to sleep wondering what would happen next with every pounding beat of my heart. It feels amazing to have a teacher who listens to me, modifies homework, sends home study guides and actually posts the home work on the the school website!<br />
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I'm thrilled to have support and to be feeling better about where we all our right now. My son is getting to enjoy being a student, instead of crying about the hardship. The support of SEPTO makes me smile! The support of my husband during every chapter I read up upon and for dealing with the inevitable meltdown just around the corner also makes me smile. Seeing my son happy to return to school after scraping through his third grade class brings about endless smiles. This place where we all are in our lives now feels so much more freeing and uplifting and I know we're on the right path. We hit bumps in the road, but we'll make it. We have support and we have each other. With all of that, we can do anything and there's nothing that could enhance a smile more!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-29681944066250421122011-10-02T20:37:00.000-07:002011-10-03T19:21:13.452-07:00Day 103 Project TV BuddySo I'm home after a really long day of packing, traveling, and helping my son study for a test. The latter being the hardest part since he just couldn't retain anything he learned from this weekend or today. We studied before we left for home, we studied off and on during the trip, and we continued studying after arriving home and taking a play break. At one point, I laid my head on the cold enamel top table and repeated "Concord, New Hampshire-- Concord, New Hampshire-- Concord, Concord" and, maybe I blacked out here, but I think I even said "I don't care if you pronounce it Concurd or Con Cord, just write Concord down and remember it, <i>please...</i>"<br />
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So after laying down and trying to find my chi for a few minutes, the kids showered and got ready for bed, bedtime reading was done and I wend from finding my chi to finding my remote. I had to catch up with my DVR, I HAD TO!!!<br />
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I think it says a lot about my husband, the football fan and watcher of shows like Dexter and Sons of Anarchy, that he will sit right next to me while I watch an hour and half long episode of Project Runway. That man must love me. That really hit me more tonight and sent me into a good laugh when during the newest episode, I made a comment about a character on the show and I couldn't think of his name. My husband chimed up with "Who, Burt?" Yep, thank you. Not only for reminding me of the designer's name that I couldn't retain much like my son couldn't retain Providence, Rhode Island, but for joining me to watch a show that I know he couldn't care less about and actually paying attention to it for me. I appreciate that and I smile because of it.<br />
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Does that mean I have to watch Dexter now? Just the opening title sequence turns my stomach... oh boy...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-74168479563274458222011-10-01T19:58:00.000-07:002011-10-01T19:58:16.557-07:00Day 102 Family TimesThe dining room table was filled tonight with family. My children, my parents, my sister and her fiance and my dear friend, Giovanni. It was a good meal with good company. I don't think I could ask for more. Well, my husband wasn't here since he had to work during the days the kids had off from school, but he was off fishing (and he caught fish!) so he did get enjoy himself too.<br />
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After dinner and sitting around a bit, we got out the old game, Scattergories, and enjoyed a few rounds with laughs. It reminded me of when I was a kid and the grown ups with gather 'round Grandma's kitchen table after a big meal and play a game. I remember watching them have such a good time when I was too young to play along, much like my kids did tonight. I remember when I was allowed to join them when I got to be of the age to keep up. We gave my son a chance to play tonight, but it proved to be a little too soon for him tonight. He laughed regardless.<br />
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Nights like this bring a smile to face not only because of the fun I had this evening, but from the memories that are conjured up again from times too far distant. Family is happiness for me and with which I will never be apart from a reason to smile.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-75521664297194700982011-09-30T20:22:00.000-07:002011-09-30T20:22:31.201-07:00Day 101 Line Drive to SmilesYay!! <i>I got to see my friends! </i>That makes me a happy a girl! It was awesome! My best friends since high school, five children from just a few tiny months old to my nine year old boy of awesomeness, food, and tee ball line drives straight to the back of unsuspecting children.<br />
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Soo... aside from my son deciding to play one man tee ball without noticing who was in the direct line of the hit which subsequently led to my daughter balling her eyes out (by the way, it was a whipple ball... how bad could it hurt?), it was a great night. Tee ball tear clean up wasn't nearly as annoying as I would've thought. I did have a jolly one year old on my hip while I corrected the nine year old and soothed the six year old while the almost three year old (with the most <i>adorable</i> bob) continued on without hesitation! I was in heaven! I was also on the look out for retaliation from my daughter who seems to want to adopt an <i>eye for an eye</i> attitude lately. She settle for an over exaggerated cry instead. <i>Thank goodness!</i><br />
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No, I wasn't taking care of these four kids alone. There were four adults there, but it was really awesome having so many little ones around. And to top off the evening, my friends babysat their niece who is so new to this world that you just want to hold her all day long and make stupid silly faces while cooing at her. So I did hold her (and make funny faces and noises) for as long as I possibly could before I had to head home. That sweet little bundle was just adorable! A perfect little baby! Oh and she even had that wonderful little baby smell! So darn cute!<br />
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There couldn't possibly be any doubt out there about the number of smiles I had tonight! The smiles on the faces of my friends, on the children, and on me who enjoyed every flippin' minute of it!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-58075316801724341882011-09-29T20:35:00.000-07:002011-09-29T20:37:50.861-07:00Day 100 Charlie and JudyFor my 100th post, I would like to share a song that think is appropriate. Unlike the songs <i>Fireworks</i> and <i>Born this Way</i>, I will not cry when I hear this little diddy. I do think of Charlie Chaplin though, and the chin up, move on and smile on the way final image of the movie <i>Modern Times</i>.<br />
<div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Ps6ck1ejoAw?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div></div><div>My favorite rendition of the song is Judy Garland's. When I hear it, I hear the voice of a mother letting her little darling know that they'll get by, if they just smile. I felt a little guilty about declaring that I preferred Ray Charles' version of <i>Somewhere Over the Rainbow</i> recently on my facebook page, so now I feel a bit redeemed. </div><div><br />
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</div><div>I admit, at times the song can seem a little somber, but the heartfelt voice of Judy strings the lyrics along and you get the feeling that she is taking on her child's heartbreak, that she would take all the heartbreak away if she could. While she is bearing the pain, she begins to uplift the spirit and empower the child. The song is a ballad of beauty with Judy's grace, elegance and meaningfulness. It's a song you don't want to have to sing to your kids, but would if it made everything better. </div><div><br />
</div><div>And for another smile.... Me, as Charlie Chaplin almost nine years ago at our Halloween party.</div><div><br />
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-49764433230954613622011-09-28T22:02:00.000-07:002011-09-28T22:02:40.746-07:00Day 99 Sibling Respect, Huh?Siblings.... Sigh... There are days when I feel like my kids are always going to be bickering with each other and will forever be at each other's throat. There are times that it just drives me <i>CRAZY!</i> They just don't seem to have respect for one other. I didn't grow up fighting with a sibling as there is a nine year difference between my sister and I so maybe I'm being delusional about expecting them to get along, but I want them to really try and be nice to each other. Is that crazy? They're supposed to love each other!<br />
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</div><div>Well, after spending all day defending my son with the school, all I could think of is "Am I being irrational here?" From what I understood from hearing different point of views, was that my son became upset over a situation that was instigated by another child. My son was portrayed as a bully when he was actually reacting to another child's behavior. I wanted the school to be clear that he did not instigate this, he was reacting, he did not threaten or touch this other child, and that he just became upset. A very normal occurrence for him and something that we are all trying to help him with. My son is the apple cart that many kids on the bus seem to want to upset. This has been corroborated by the bus driver and other students as well. It really stinks for my son that he gets targeted, and then he gets in trouble for becoming upset. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Some days, it feels like I am the only one going to bat for my son. I know deep down that that isn't really the case. My husband is right there with me and my son does have a pretty good support system in school. But there are still days I feel the burden. However, I must say that I was a bit surprised when I learned of a new defender. </div><div><br />
</div><div>After picking up the kids from school, and heading out on a long car ride for a long weekend, my kids began telling me about their day. I heard a particularly interesting account of this morning's bus ride from my daughter. </div><div><br />
</div><div>My daughter explained how one of her friends (to be perfectly honest, I don't particularly care for this "friend" as I don't think she shows qualities of a friend) said to her "Your brother is mean. My brother says he is mean." Now, when I hear this, I think to myself <i>Oh, this is coming from the sister of the boy who has caused bruises on my son, rushed at him with his fist ready, and taunts him with two other boys on the bus... sure, that makes sense. </i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div>My daughter's reply was "No, he's not." The girl repeated her previous comment and stated that she didn't think she wanted to be friends anymore. My daughter said "Well, I don't think I want to be your friend anymore." And then she preceded to sing about it. Not sure what that's all about, but she's an interesting girl.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I expressed my appreciation for her standing up for her brother. Honestly, I was ecstatic! <i>She loves him!! Yay!! I knew it was in there somewhere!</i> My son let his sister know that he gets picked on by the other girl's brother. I loved her response: "WHAT?! She lied to me! They lied. Well, I told my teacher she was hurting my feelings and that's against the classroom rules!" Hah!! </div><div><br />
</div><div>Trying to be a good mom, I expressed again that I was so glad that she stuck up for her brother, but to not make a big deal about it any further. No need to continue on with the argument and cause more problems. Internally, I was doing a jig! I'm sorry, but I loved that she was standing up for her brother and she was willing to stake a friendship on it. And here I thought I they didn't respect each other. Well, maybe they don't, but at least she won't let someone else disrepect him!<br />
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When my son spends a good portion of his day dealing with social issues and getting taunted on the bus, I am so happy to know that he has at least one person there with him that he can count on to support him. It feels good to know that he was being defended by not only me, but his sister too. What a great thing to learn and a great smile to wear! </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-64587798388310276012011-09-27T19:45:00.000-07:002011-09-27T19:46:18.491-07:00Day 98 Skate Away<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">My son has had a rough afternoon. There's been some tricky business on the bus again and he's not completely innocent, of course, but he's being accused of some things that sound a bit exaggerated. I called around to some moms and had their kids tell us what happened and I've gotten a different account from what the school seems to believe. I'll be addressing that with them tomorrow.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But after being interrogated by a teacher he didn't know and the school psychologist only to be made out to be a liar (despite the fact that I've NEVER known him to lie) and then having a doctor's appointment which was followed up with homework, he needed some time to himself. So what does he do?...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">He grabbed a skateboard. A board that he begged us to get him for Christmas a few years ago, but he's maybe ridden once. He donned a helmet. He headed for the driveway. I prepared to be heading to the hospital shortly. He's not the most coordinated kid you know.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I had nothing to worry about though. He peddled along. Wait, that can't be the right term. What do you call that when they kick off with their feet? Anyway, he pushed off with his feet right down the driveway and cruised (</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I know, that doesn't sound right either</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">) up and down the blacktop. He was actually balancing himself. Who knew?!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Then he began attempting tricks. </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Say what?! Where are the car keys?! Is my phone on me so I can call 911?! </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But there he was, hopping with his skateboard (nope, not a technical term, I'm pretty sure about that) and trying something he called a Front Ollie (he said it, not me). He looked focus, and content.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I knew he was in trouble for what happened at school, despite it not being as big of a deal as it was being made out to be. But I couldn't take that skateboarding time from him. Well, I wouldn't have thought to ground him from ahead of time since he's never shown any real interest in it before. That might have been him being clever, but I'll give him that win. He needs it sometimes.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Watching him skate away his problems made me happy for him and it put a bit of me at peace as well. I was really concerned over the events that I was being told about and awaiting to hear from other moms for more details.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">While he was skating away, part of me wanted to skate my worries away too. Instead, I gave him a thumbs up when he was successful, an "Oh well" shrug when he almost fell, and both of those were accompanied by a smile. I've found that a smile can be just as helpful as skating away, but without a helmet! Helmets are not good for my hair...</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-35481211775848560602011-09-26T20:42:00.000-07:002011-09-27T06:39:51.373-07:00Day 97 Lunch Social Issues<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I got the call today. The one I've known I would get eventually, thrilled that I hadn't gotten already, yet just as nervous about receiving.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">My son's school psychologist called to let me know that, while my son is having a great year, he is struggling during lunch. </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I've only been saying that for three years! </span></i><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i></i>Lunch combines into recess and is pretty unstructured. Imagine about 100 kids all trying to talk louder than the next, rushing to meet their friends at the games and toys. Just try to hear the noise that reverberates off the linoleum and concrete. Picture the cliques of kids huddled around different games, some games you may not know how to play. Now, what many of these kids ignore you sometimes? What if some of these kids have called you names before? Maybe some of them are your friends, but you remember that you just snapped at them in class for being too noisy. What would you do with all of that? I would probably just find a quiet place to be by myself. Not my son though. He's still trying to join the groups and some days he's successful, and yet many days he's not. Today was a "not" day and unfortunately, filled with some tears.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">As I talked with the psychologist, she made it clear that she believes that it's too noisy and she wanted to brain storm with me to find the best resolution for my son that didn't require isolating him. A quiet room to eat with a few invited guests would probably be great for some kids, but for my son, he would feel too cut off.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">She told me about a book that she had entitled </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Can-Tell-About-Asperger-Syndrome/dp/1843102064/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1317093572&sr=8-1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Can I tell you about Asperger Syndrome? A guide for friends and family"</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> by Jude Welton and offered to allow me to borrow it. The book is from the point of view of boy named Adam who explains Asperger's Syndrome (AS) from his point of view. As we read it all together tonight as a family, I was happy to see both my kids identifying with the boy in the book. No need for my son to feel alone in this after all.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I believe the psychologist would like us to begin carefully sharing his diagnosis with his friends. This book would be a great way to show AS to other classmates. I didn't commit to allowing that disclosure. I'm not sure if we're ready to share that information with other kids. I admit, it could lead to support, but let's face it, kids can be cruel too. I couldn't possibly make that decision for my son. We would all have to talk about that together and consider my son's input overall.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I believe he connected to aspects of the book and as he went to be with the book on his mind, he wore a smile. Many nights he has a hard time turning off his mind and feeling settled. Tonight, he went right to bed, was upbeat and loving, and he really smiled the whole time he was getting in bed and covering up. Seeing him consider himself as not alone in this and as the AS expert in our home (being an expert must feel pretty good... I'm no expert on anything really), is inspiring and certainly smile worthy. Anytime he smiles, I want to smile back ten fold! He'll be okay.... this team will get him there and lunch will be smooth sailing with smiles galore!</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-86959253506187394782011-09-25T18:06:00.000-07:002011-09-25T18:06:31.815-07:00Day 96 Girls' Day<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Hubby surprised my son with tickets to the Mets game today which means...</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i>GIRLS' DAY!</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">There have been many times that my son has been out for cub scout camping, fishing and what not, which leaves my daughter and I at home. In order to keep her from feeling left out, we began <i>Girls' Day. </i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">While the boys were preparing for their day, my daughter caught on that we weren't going with them. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">She asked where they were going and I explained that they would be out all day. "So you know what that means, right?! Girls' Day!" I said. "YEEESS!!" was her ecstatic reply.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">In the past, we've gone to the movie theater, had manicures, played games, or watched movies at home. Today was my favorite of all the Girls' Days!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We went to the library for a Girl Scouts event that was going on, but my daughter would barely say a word to any of the young scouts. She's so darn shy, but she did warm up a bit. For a dollar, she decorated a tile, planted basil and grass to take home and made a garden sign for the basil. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And of course, we had to look for a book while we were there. She's into the Junie B. Jones books right now and after picking out a mushy gushy one, we headed to the checkout counter. The librarian saw everything she was carrying and asked her what she had planted. I was expecting to have to speak up for her, but she quietly answered! "This is basil and this is grass. I made a tile and a sign, too!" Ahh, smile!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Next on the list was manicures! Now, the shyness was put to a test here. She couldn't understand anything the women were saying with their heavy accents. At one point, a manicurist asked me "You're having two, right?" Unfortunately, she said it extremely fast and it came out more like "Youhavintwori?" My daughter looked up at me with her face scrunched up and said "<i>What</i> did she say?" </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi-ycma-TSxBd844yc2sDeMCm8P30J5NX8Inc5R7a3WXVJWy0A7DsoqQYURaI-gbQ_Air-WmL0LLmFOsaH8mvdAGD2DHr-wjtxy1NXmlDqqkN6bEHtDIYT2JFBnqzbjAzoXcCtfBFEOTU/s1600/IMGP9179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi-ycma-TSxBd844yc2sDeMCm8P30J5NX8Inc5R7a3WXVJWy0A7DsoqQYURaI-gbQ_Air-WmL0LLmFOsaH8mvdAGD2DHr-wjtxy1NXmlDqqkN6bEHtDIYT2JFBnqzbjAzoXcCtfBFEOTU/s320/IMGP9179.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We picked out some interesting shades and had a seat. They treated my daughter to nail art as well and she loved that they used sparkly colors to decorate. It was funny to watch her watch the manicurist. I read all over her face that she was scared to death that the manicurist would ask her a question! She seemed to get more spirit in her when she saw her pretty nails!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"So, what's next?" I asked. "Food, I'm so hungry! Cheesecake Factory!" While we were there waiting for a table and then waiting for our dinner, we read almost all of her Junie B. Jones book. She got her cheesecake topped with strawberries, her favorite. It was a good meal.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgi5cVg9ddz8nCA46iXhFl9ruHFHI-IrkBok1g7gHUCR-GTx_x6l2Nc4l4CyCzsAm33pgc-XiRiepK1s0VYgYtzIa1ePJMvbgzx51QXD1rOrosj5qkKy-c2HYocNEn40ecIFKE1jiLYfA/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgi5cVg9ddz8nCA46iXhFl9ruHFHI-IrkBok1g7gHUCR-GTx_x6l2Nc4l4CyCzsAm33pgc-XiRiepK1s0VYgYtzIa1ePJMvbgzx51QXD1rOrosj5qkKy-c2HYocNEn40ecIFKE1jiLYfA/s320/photo.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">After picking out a Scooby Doo movie from the Blockbusters, we headed home, got in our pajamas, made some popcorn, got out a game and watched the movie together. It was a great ending to the day. A day filled with lots of smiles from the both of us. I'm so glad we had this day!</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-17573324572223089492011-09-24T20:56:00.000-07:002011-09-24T20:56:52.598-07:00Day 95 Wear a Smile with that Hat<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Tonight, I went to a Hat Party. Ever heard of one of those? I hadn't. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">This party was for a friend of mine going through chemotherapy for breast cancer. The idea is to wear a hat to the party and bring a hat or scarf gift for the friend to wear during the time that they've lost their hair. These hats can be practical or humorous. I noted that humor goes a very long way. Below is clip explaining it a bit with footage from a party.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">While this seemed like a very sweet and endearing thing to do for a friend, I was a bit nervous about attending. First of all, while I know this woman, I don't know her as closely as the others there. It certainly doesn't mean that I care less, far from it! This just seems like such an intimate occasion, I wasn't sure if I belonged there. I care about her and her family, I would be more than happy to help out in any way, but above all, I don't want to make her uncomfortable. She deserves all the comfort possible. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The other thing is, I'm not sure how I would have felt about this party if I had been in my friend's shoes. I would have loved having my family and friends there to support me and certainly would have appreciated all the effort, but would I want all eyes on me during a time when I don't look or feel like myself? I hope that I would be thrilled about it, but I also hope I never have to find out.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The party was a beautiful idea though. There was so much support, love, laughter and, for me, realization. I posted yesterday about a mall kiosk salesman degrading my hair with his condescension. I simply glared at him and went on, but now part of me would like to say "You know what, it's just hair! Get over it!" But, the other part of me thinks I would've been better off just ignoring him completely. After all, you learn what's important in life and that type of stuff shouldn't be high on my list. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Now, I can't speak for our friend in regards to all that she's been going through, and to be honest, I wouldn't even have a clue about an ounce of her struggles, but I will attest to her grace under pressure, to her humor, and to how her bright eyes and smile light up the place. I've noticed that she's always smiling when I see her. Even in general conversation, she naturally carries a smile. That was her way before the cancer and it's still her way while beating cancer. I wonder if she realizes how much she smiles. What a wonderful habit, smiling... </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I thank the ladies who put together this event and I send much love and many well wishes to my friend who looked fan-freakin-tastic in all the varied hats. And to her I say "Smile girl, you're kicking cancer's ass!"</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-44868500833033123092011-09-23T22:57:00.000-07:002011-09-24T06:21:35.889-07:00Day 94 A Little Frizzy<!--google_ad_section_end--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I had to go shopping today. Normally, I don't mind shopping, but today, I had an unpleasant experience. First, a small amount of back story.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I did some cleaning today and pet care which requires that I shower afterwards. I knew I was going out to the mall and since I don't get out as much lately, I decided to put on the pretty face and try to do something with this mane of mine. I have long, wavy, textured hair. Some days it's pretty and defined, some days, not so much. Today was a decent hair day, somewhere in between the pretty/defined and the not so much days. I thought it was alright though.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Until I was walking through the mall. I grabbed a cup of coffee to appease me while I meandered through stores and I even bought a small vanilla scone to enjoy as well. As I made my way past the wood furniture store on my way to JCrew, I had to walk past one of those kiosks. This particular one sold hair flat iron straighteners.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The guy made eye contact with me as I nibbled on my scone. Then, he began shaking his head at me in a disapproving </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">your hair is an atrocity</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> sort of way. I was a little surprised by this and didn't completely comprehend the situation. I smiled graciously, but continued on with my coffee and scone.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"You should have a seat here."</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Oh, no he didn't! He did not just disapprove of my hair and then tell me that I should let him fix it! First off, he didn't even have any hair of his own. That may not matter, but it bugged me regardless. Secondly, who, in their right mind, would sit down to let someone do their hair that just blatantly insulted them?! Thirdly, ah hell, who needs a third point with those first two? He was rude and that's that.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I gave him the look of death and moved on. Needless to say, I didn't go by there again that day and when I did make it home, I put my hair in pigtails before going on to the cub scout meeting tonight. I understand that it was raining all day and that humidity wreaks havoc on my locks, but to be dissed like that in public was a bit offsides. Jerk!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Braided pigtails do make me smile though and remind me of the part of our honeymoon when we visited Joshua Tree National Park. I recall wearing pigtails that day and having wonderful time. I guess the rude, hairless, flat iron pusher was just doing his job and I wouldn't have been thinking of such a wonderful time if it hadn't been for him.... but I can still give him the death stare whenever I feel like it.</span><!--google_ad_section_end-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1005778725926205479.post-69801490463984601382011-09-22T20:44:00.000-07:002011-09-24T06:29:00.366-07:00Day 93 A Kiss and a Smile<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It was a pretty dull day. Part of me is thrilled to have a quiet day, and yet the other part of me would have preferred not staying home to clean and watch day stealing television. As I picked up the laptop tonight, I began to wonder what in the world would I write about? I can't just talk about my nonchalant day. I'm supposed to be sharing how I sought after, created and realized my </span><i><a href="http://blog.smileconquest.com/2011/06/deciding-to-find-my-smile.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Never Neverland</span></a></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> smile on a daily basis, in hopes, that one day, I am able to do all that without trying so hard. But days like today, make that seem like a difficult task.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">That was until I shared with my husband that I really had no idea what I was share. And here's where it gets totally mushy, I mean sweet. He comes over, kneels down beside me and gives me a kiss. Yep, that got a smile.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It also got me thinking about the other kisses I received today. His good morning kiss, his kiss before leaving, my daughter's after school greeting kiss, the kids' goodnight kisses. And there was also the one from my son. I kept kissing him on the cheek, being obnoxious, while he was watching television. I knew he would eventually tell me to stop with a sly little grin, but I wasn't expecting him to then laugh and give me a kiss on the cheek.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Kisses make smiles and I wouldn't have given them much thought if it weren't for the one given to me at a time when I felt like I had lost them for the day. I may not have grabbed my smiles by the laugh lines today, but I'm alright with that. I'm grateful to have been given a kiss and a smile when I needed it without asking for it. Even that alone is something about which to smile.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06440875033170094375noreply@blogger.com0