Merry Christmas from the Crack

When Jedi Mind Tricks Fail

Scripting is awesome.

A simple request

(Padme Amadala, Star Wars III)

(Padme Amadala, Star Wars III)

(Mash-Up of Annikin, Darth Vader, and Luke, all movies)

A Phone Conversation

My hubby called me this morning for a quick update.  He put the phone on speaker and here is the conversation with Jman:

Me:  Hi buddy!
Jman:  Hi mom
Me:  How are you?
Jman:  Good!  It is almost Monday!
(Dan in background) : you mean Saturday.
Jman:  It is almost Saturday!
Me:  Yeah, I know!!  Are you going to have a good day today?
Jman:  Yup!  See you later mom!
Me:  Ok, bye.

This normal phone conversation brought to you by over 3000 hours of therapy and one awesome kid.

You know what autism gives you?  Perspective. On what is really important.  No matter what the step, what the milestone, I appreciate every single one.

How This Fat Chick Turned Into a Yogi

(and stayed fat)

Yesterday I got an email congratulating me on my one-year anniversary of going to Heat Yoga.  A year ago, my friend talked me and my large booty into going to a yoga class in a room that was 105 degrees F.  I thought I might die.  Seriously, I saw black spots, a white light, and I might have heard the call of angels.  Or was it just a buzzing in my ears?  Not sure.  Based on that first experience, I cannot believe I kept going.

I counted back and over this past year I have gone to Heat Yoga 46 times, with the last 13 times just in month of September.  I stopped for several months because I ended up in the ER post-class with a migraine (my own fault) and got a wee bit skittish.  But the benefits has been so awesome that I have turned into a yogi.  My hips, which have hurt since Jman was born, have gotten 100% better.  I am stronger, both mentally and physically.  I am both humble and proud.  Humble, because 9 times out of 10 I can barely stand on one foot as I grow my "tree".  Meanwhile, the skinny b*tches around me can apparently put their foot in their crotch with arms outstretched to the heavens.

 Proud, because I am standing on one foot doing "tree" in a 105 degree room carrying an extra 50 lbs around (let's see some of those skinny b*tches do their tree with a 50 lbs sack potatoes strapped to their torso!).

Not that I am bitter about the skinny b*tches.  Really, I am not.  No, really.  Okay, well, maybe a little.  But I am working on it.  We are all, after all, on our own yoga journey, and there is no judgement in the room.  Or if there is, I just have to chalk it up to making everyone else feel better about themselves.  All I have to do is set my intention at the beginning of class (99% of the time it is "To Survive") and do my best.  Because whether people believe I belong there or not, this yogi is staying.

Disapproval, Scripted

Jman is perfecting the art of conveying his opinion via scripting.

This script is brought to you by the Cartoon Network's Lego Star Wars, the Yoda Chronicles.  

Here is the video sample for your viewing pleasure.  Enjoy!!

A Literal Bedtime Conversation

He's a giver (not)

Reboot

I have been tossing around the idea of starting a new, 'fresh' blog.  One where I talk about other things.  Like yoga.  Or books.  Or things of a spiritual nature.  Or just funny stuff that Jman says.  Not just autism.  Of course, still autism, but not just autism.

So I tossed around a bunch of different names.  Here are a few of my favorites:

Fun with Echolalia
True Story
Waiting for Shoes
Stepping on Legos

But instead, I think I shall just give the o'Crack a facelift.  Change the format a wee-bit, expand it beyond its original parameters, and see how that goes.  Whatca think?

An Update Owed

I haven't had much blogging time lately.  I miss it.  Blogging lets me keep track of progress, of change, and of those stories that are just so Jman.  But I've been stretched a little too thin with work, therapy, Jman, and all that jazz... so here is a little update for those who are wondering what is that crazy boy up to:

Swimming Lessons

I decided to try Jman at swimming lessons, because he really does need some basic skills.  We found a school (Foss for you locals) that provides private lessons, and because he is on the spectrum and is not able to do a regular class (yet!), we got the lessons for half off.  Now that is being special needs friendly!!!  (Note:  still crazy expensive.  But if we can get Jman swimming.... totally worth every penny!!!)


Birthday Parties

I know what everyone was doing 6 years and 9 months ago!!!  What IS it with February birthdays?  We have been to three parties so far, with Jman having his own as well.  And might I say, so far he has done A-MAZ-ING.

Busing

We did it.  We got busing for Jman.  It wasn't quite the struggle I thought it would be, and it was far more psychologically traumatizing for Big Daddy and myself than it was for Jman.  In fact, he is completely taking it in stride.  For us and our life... this is a HUGE time saver and life saver.  Details to come, but lets just say that for now, we are very happy.

And some FUN too...

He used to hate snow.
Take that, snow!

Joined the Power Rangers

And Fell in Love

Just a little update!  Hope you enjoyed it!

One Word

You'd think we'd have tougher skin, us parents of special needs kids.

You'd think after we hear time and time again how our kids are 'not enough':   not 'smart' enough, not 'compliant' enough, not 'good' enough... that we would grow leathery tough skin.  Sunburned-cowboy tough skin.  Superman-of-steel tough skin.  The kind of skin that doesn't prick and doesn't bleed.  Skin that acts like armor and deflects all the intended and unintended slights the world aims at our babies.

You'd think...

Yet, there are always chinks in that armor.  The little crevices of soft flesh that apparently beg for the wounds.  And people always seem to find those chinks, and aim those poison arrows there whilst we aren't ready and armed for battle.  When our guard is down.  On the rare occasions our guard is down.  And all they need to say is one word, one sentence, and ugh... it is like a blast into the heart.  Suddenly, what once was joyful and peaceful and good becomes tainted, and I want to stay far and fast away from it, lest I get another glancing blow.

That is how we can become islands, building walls between us and the world that seems to have no room for us and our babies.  What a cold place that the world becomes.

But here is the thing... we can't do that.  We can't do it to our babies, and we can't do it to ourselves.  Indeed, the world may be made up of unthinking people or straight up *ss*oles, but shuttering ourselves away only hurts us.  Because as we lose the world, the world also loses us.  We don't change the world, or their perception of us in the world, but making ourselves invisible.  We must be visible, and we must be vital, and we must be loud, and we must be relevant.

So we don the armor again and go forward, shielding our babies as best we can and preparing them to be able to fight their own battles and demand their own respect.  Maybe that is all we can do.