A New Car!

Standing in the Toyota Carlsbad used car lot, Jim tried to track the various specs our salesman, Mo, had committed to memory. Which Prius in the row was the best value for us? They honestly need a chart (or a website like CarMax). Without it, the oral recounting was as lost on us as the details of our genealogy.

Jim started to sound like a parrot, reiterating his own clarifying questions.

"How much is the that one again?"

"What was the mileage on the white one?"

"Has the black one been discounted yet?"

Each time we moved down the line to the next car, we lost site of the sticker on the previous one. It's a larger-than-life-size game of elimination. And that was before we got to my color preferences.

Reid must have been thinking this looked a lot like a rental car lot at any airport in the country. He knew what to do. Hop in, hang on, and start scoping out the glovebox.

As we'd piled out of Jim's MiniCooper, Reid opened the back door of the silver one right next to us, "I like this one. Let's go." (Come to think of it, that's the one we drove off the lot 2 hours later. Hmm..)

I was on Reid-patrol since Jim is the premier negotiator, "Well not yet, Reid. Dad has to talk to the man here and think it through. It costs a lot of dollars so, it might take him a little while." This is when the circular Q and A ensued.

That was our cue to search for a vending machine. Before we did, Reid put a hand on Jim's shoulder and came out with a phrase I imagine he must hear frequently at school, "Dad, are you having trouble making a choice?"

The kid speaks the truth...and keeps us laughing:)

I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Matthew 11:25

Who is the man who fears the LORD? He will instruct him in the way he should choose. Psalm 25:11-13

Get wisdom—it's worth more than money; choose insight over income every time. Proverbs 16:15-17

In Which Self-Talk Reveals

Ok, this clip from Father of the Bride is more than just hilarious. I'm searching for it as I work on a book proposal recounting our April 2010 to April 2011 adventure as it relates to and requires a number of re-words. "Re: Re: RE: REID!" is my working title.

I needed to recall Steve Martin's choice list as he flounders to control the attack dogs:

Relent?

Recoil...

"I'm Relaxed..."

Reverse*

Release!

Much more on that later, but I happened upon something easier to tell in one sitting. You hear Steve Martin's self talk? As in numerous comedies, it is made audible in the movie for laughs.

"All I could think about was the size of this place...we coulda parked our whole house in the foyer..."

I live this brand of comedy daily. Reid lets us know exactly what he is thinking with an increasing amount of self-talk both at home and school. On the surface it is just one more "maladaptive" behavior to reckon with and raise concern. Looking deeper, the self-talk is actually worth much more than a few laughs.

Reid's externalized thought process literally reveals his motivations, where he's stuck, what challenge he's facing, and how hard he is attempting to do the right thing. It's a gift of revelation. A helpful tool in showing us how to set his potential free.

By talking to ourselves (albeit silently), don't we all process what is happening around us. We might encourage ourselves or beat ourselves up. Surely we prep up for the day's challenge over the coffee pot or in the closet choosing what to wear. Listen to yourself and take note of how much dialogue you have with yourself.

As I realize this, I am actually grateful that Reid's thoughts are as pure as they are. He sounds an awful lot like Paul in Romans ruminating over the battle between our old and new natures:

I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.

And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature.

For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.

So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me.

What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord! Romans 7:15-20

February Podcast: Paula Dawson

Paula is a woman who gives real meaning to the word, sweet. She is kind to the marrow.

Here's a glimpse of her last Friday winning a night out at a happening local nightclub. (who knew?) Spending time with Paula makes me feel like the lucky winner.

On Monday nights, she is found fully engaged in the waiting room at the Music Therapy Center of California. Our own permutation of a support group has resulted from our boys being in The Kingsmen band together. While they rehearse, we (four moms and grandma) talk. It's a sacred time. Paula listens and speaks with style, grace and humor. Never flustered, quick to laugh, always willing to help, Paula is a balm in Gilead.

I consider her an inspiration to the autism community. Last night she was gracious enough to let me ask her a couple questions while recording:

Click Autism Unplugged Paula Dawson.mp3 or the play button below.

I always wanted to do a photo montage of Conor in the famous Fantasia pose we mentioned. His bravado thrills me at every performance.

January Podcast: "Is it too much to ask?" with Sandi Anderson

Da da da da da da da! Drum roll please....

I'd like to present a new monthly feature: a brief on-the-street interview with someone I consider an inspiration in the autism community.

Miss January is Sandi Anderson, resource person extraordinaire!

Sandi and I share the same maiden name, faith in the same God, the same history of homeschooling, the same stubborn insistence on our kids' potential, and the same invisible tattoo. She is creative beyond all get out, resourceful, humble, accessible, and helpful. She has mentored countless moms-turned-professional-through-autism in San Diego county. If they don't know her, they know of her (and wish they did).

I first knew "of her" and was thrilled when she invited me to plan the Concert of Prayer for Special Needs in San Diego County. Now, I am honored to call her a friend. She has an idea a minute and is the one I call when I'm stuck or circling. I always hang up with a genius next step that feels easy to take.

Sandi repeatedly finds a way where none exists, whether to get Regional Center and the Dept of Rehab to fund a self-determination grant for her 21 year old son to have his own business or take the other to swim with dolphins in Hawaii. She is also hilarious! She was in usual jesting form, as we met for lunch at Rubio's to tape this. After she heard my line of questioning, she first asked how much I was paying her ($.00). Then, shot out a title for the new blog feature, "Is it too much to ask?" We all need a friend who makes us laugh.

In this picture, she is "tooting her own horn" at the Autism Tree Project Foundation's USD Football Mentor game day. Enjoy meeting her yourself on this audio podcast:Sandi Anderson.aiff

Note to Facebook readers: Click "View Original Post" to access the mp3 player.)

Lending and Borrowing

"Good Morning Andrea. This is Kay down at the Solana Beach Library."

They open early the day before Thanksgiving I thought, expecting it to be my mom gobble gobbling on the other line.

"Oh hi Kay, how are you?" I'm on a first name basis with many of our local librarians, as previously mentioned.

"I'm fine, but I should be asking, 'how are you?' Well, listen, we're having kind of a slow day down here...going through some lost and found...and we have a darling photo album with pictures of your family from Christmas 2009...I have no idea how it got here but you know...sometimes things have a way of getting shoved back behind on the shelves....." (gobble gobble)

"I know exactly how it got there...and yes, I'll be right down to get it. Thank you!" Those glossy coffee table albums cost me some time and coin to make.

Grateful for Reid's share and share alike attitude. Grateful they didn't catalogue it for general circulation among my neighbors. Grateful they know us and took the time to call. Grateful to have it back.

P.S. Which Dewey decimal classification do you suppose it would fall under? Social Science...Biography...Arts & Recreation...History

Top 10 Tuesday

Top 10 Antiquated Words to Baffle Your Children

10. pedal pushers

Preferring not to get her cuffs wet or greasy, mom's pedal pushers were perfect for beach combing as well as bike riding.

9. peckish

Pass me a cracker, I am feeling quite peckish having skipped lunch today.

8. shades

Those new shades are just the right shape for your face.

7. frock

I love that new frock on you!

6. get up

That get up is not as flattering as the frock you wore yesterday.

5. succotash

I think I'll whip up some succotash with this summer squash from the farmer's market.

4. co-ed

Here comes a nicely dressed co-ed who might point us to some hot spots on campus.

3. grocery

When the fridge is bare, we must head to the grocery.

2. rap

Wanna rap with me until dinner's ready?

1. cruise the strip

After church shall we cruise the strip or check the surf?

I find a weird sort of pleasure sprinkling these dated expressions into my daily jargon, especially around Allie and her friends, who react with mortified expressions of utter dismay. They look cross-eyed, first at each other then back at me. What is she saying? Where is she from? Is she always like this?

Their reactions amuse and encourage my inner prankster. It's the same sort of glee I get from Anne Taintor's stationery. And since it's summer and we homeschool no more, it's as close as we get to educational lately. History and language all rolled into one. If my sample sentences don't offer enough contextual meaning, feel free to cross reference on Wordnik or A Way with Words.

Am I the only mom who is simultaneously hip and out of it? I think not. Will the rest of you chime in with an antiquated word in comment box. I am running out of material.

Top 10 Tuesday

Top 10 Things that Honestly Don't Even Phase Me

(and I wish were more widely accepted)

10. bacon on the dashboard

9. dog hair on the floor

8. open bathroom doors

7. weeds in the front yard

6. stained carpets and upholstery

5. broken electronics

4. strangers staring

3. poop in the tub

2. siren like screaming

1. incessant "Barney" trailers

Unfazed, undaunted, unflappable are modifiers I might like to see on my tombstone. This is not the same as being calloused, stoic, or insensitive, mind you. Au contraire, the unruffled mum remains calm in order to better love, care for and nurture her offspring. It is her tender heart that fuels the self-sacrifice. Her resolute peace instills confidence and security. She is intentionally mindful of higher learning and relational skills that are taking place amidst the seeming chaos.

Like the horses ideal for therapeutic riding programs, we have become "bombproof." Bombproof horses don't freak out when an impulsive rider screams, hits, kicks, or moves suddenly aboard their saddle. Loud shrill noises do not upset them. They stand as rock solid antonyms to the word "skittish." Some are born that way, others trained into it.

With another homeschooling family, we once toured the San Diego Police Department Mounted Police Force stables in Balboa Park. (This was a couple years after they assisted us in finding Reid there one Sunday.) In any case, the fascinating fieldtrip was led by a woman officer who rides and trains their horses. As a trainer she would throw bottles, therapy balls, and other random objects at the horses in order to prepare them for duty in a riot squad duty or at a St. Patrick's Day parade. Blowing various and sundry whistles at close range, she conditioned them for anything and everything. I could relate--to both the horse and the trainer!

I would like very much for "bombproof" to be added to a modern amplified version of the Proverbs 31 woman's list of life achievements.

She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. Proverbs 31: 25

yeah, uhuh, whatever, go ahead

I picked Reid up early from school. We met Jim at the offices of an integrative educational specialist for an initial intake appointment. Had one of those lately? The encounter was awesome and admittedly atypical.

Jim tends to leave details and decisions like this to me, so it was not until we were in the waiting room that he mouthed (a little too loudly I thought), "What is this place? How long is this gonna take? and What do they do?" Classic!

I had already gotten a tour, met the players, and interviewed 4 satisfied clients. So, the organic, responsive, in the moment, alternative experience that ensued did not take me by total surprise. Jim had not. So it did.

His reactions crack me up. His humor afterwards illustrates how open-minded and fluid we've become. His mannerisms in the moment harken back to our common reference points. Where would we be without each other as bookends to hold up all that's gone between?

After 20 minutes in the waiting room (one broken photo album and a bent wastebasket later), Reid bulldozed through the door to scope this place out. Forget greetings or a potty break between appointments for the owner. Rather than block him or force a do-over with proper greetings, this purple clad female recognized his sensing curiosity. She immediately shifted from any protocol in order to follow his lead. Honoring the child, as they call it other places, she did what made more sense: treated him energetically.

We had expected her to politely grill us and review the ream of paperwork I'd dropped off beforehand. Instead, in short order, she had Reid and I both up on different massage tables tuning into Sennheiser headphones while she began Body Talk. (photo not actual size)

What about Jim? He had no idea what to do out in the hallway. I only peeked out the window once to see his dropped jaw and dumbfounded expression. The stereophonic rain and chimes sounded too good; the blanket on my feet too cozy to worry about whether he had gotten out his laptop or gone back to work.

After my balancing, I was terrifically calm, resonating with Reid on the comfy plum sofa. I could only grin watching Jim caddy corner from me in total bewilderment. He listened to the spontaneous specialist talk in intuitive circles, unable to nod or fill in her sentences. She may as well have been speaking gibberish. Later in bed, we debated whether he had actually spoken the words, "I don't even care," or just thought them.

Either way, our new friend had sized us up. These smart, engaged parents have been around the block. The mom is anxiety ridden. The dad focussed on results.

Bottom line: she won't make any predictions or guarantees, but she has complete confidence in her work. How long? How much? How often?How will we measure success? It can't be quantified. Finally, with a furrowed brow Jim did say outloud, "so, are we done here?"

Once we got home, he chuckled describing it to Allie as a "total twilight zone seeing mom in there drooling on a pillow." (exaggeration) At the same time, God love him, he is open to the value it may hold. Together, we are undying optimists hoping against hope to find the master key which will unlock the potential all agree Reid has in him. That is the unanimous common denominator that draws us back to each new specialist.

Oh Lord, it's hard not to be cynical when you've lost count of how many have claimed their work would be the bomb. The look on Jim's face told it all. What he wanted to do was hand them a list and say, "yeah, uhuh, we know...That's what they all say." "I'll call you when the results are obvious."

I don't blame him for I felt the same way. I suppose we want to be treated as colleagues for having acquired some knowledge along the way. Evidence of progress for all the time and money invested, would be nice. And acknowledgment, just for the record, that we are not starting at square 1 here; we are way into the double digits! So I wrote that list for Jim, in chronological order as best I can recall:

Occupational therapy

Speech therapy

Sensory Integration

Chiropractic

Nutritionists (5 come readily to mind)

Wilbarger brushing protocol

Integrated Playgroups

The GFCF diet

Applied Behavioral Analysis, ABA

Pivotal Response Training

Fast ForWord

Cranial Osteopathy with Viola Fryman and 5 of her proteges

Floortime training with Serena Wieder

Dr. Youssefi's GMS- SMI Institute

Pfeiffer Clinic

B12 injections

Auditory Integration Training

Samonas

Tomatis

Interactive Metronome

Music Therapy

Brain Highways

Brain Gym

Applied Kinesiology

Neuro-Emotional Technique, NET

Nambudripad Allergy Elimination Techniques, NAET

Neurofeedback

The Healing Rooms

Amen Clinic

and now....Body Talk

Parents who've been on this journey will surely understand what it's like to be held captive hearing suggestions you've heard before presented as if they are new under the sun; listening politely to the claims while calculating the hourly fees; feeling like "the sucker born every minute" on whom P.T. Barnum banked.

By now, I feel more like a battered wife returning yet again to be socked, disappointed, even burned, all the while wondering, just this once, if it could be different. Then choosing to go because, after all, you've got nowhere else to go. And you want so badly for the happy ending.

"Where there is no vision, the people perish." Proverbs 29:18

"Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, "This is the way; walk in it." Isaiah 30:20-22

Top 10 Tuesday

Top 1o Time Management Skills

10. Commit to an all-in-one dry cleaner, pharmacy, bank, photo lab and grocer

9. Join a CSA for your weekly produce

8. Shadow Yubo for a day

7. Choose a signature color and make it your uniform

6. Book standing appointments for recurrent events

5. Handle mail (even e-mails) only once

4. Turn all electronics off on Sunday to reboot

3. Get an iPhone and sync it

2. Run yellow lights

1. Just say "no"

My mom requested this list but, I am quite sure I got all my driving technique and organizational skills from her. As high adrenal, achiever types we don't let much grass grow under our feet. Dust bunnies? They're another matter.

Top 10 Tuesday

Top 10 Reid-isms that Make Me Smile

10. Don't be shy.

9. Do you have a neck?

8. Nah,na,na,na,na,na,na, na, na, na, na, na, noh! (Staccato)

7. You better _______(fill in directive) or you'll be on the stairs

6. What is your favorite movie of all time?

5. Give me a hug, you big lug.

4. That deserves a reward.

3. We need a van-cation!

2. I'm ready for my movie pay-off

1. Have it all you want, sister!

In the privacy of our own home, they crack me up every time. Outside the home,

in the glaring public eye, a few may require explanation. How many times have I

wanted to respond with Mary Poppins' aplomb, "First of all, I would like to make

one thing quite clear. I never explain anything!"

Since all roads lead to (or from) movie talk, I ought to attribute #10 to Cassie in

Dragon Tales, # 1 to Travis in Old Yeller, #5 to Between the Lions,#4 to a teacher

at school and #7 to dear old mom and dad. Reid has appropriately transferred

them to multiple real life settings though, like when he shares a stick of gum with

Allie (#1), when cousin Will began to negotiate with his dad last summer on vacation

(#7), or when he clears the dishes after dinner (#4).

The boy has a way with words.

Top 10 Tuesday

Top 10 Best Words of Mothering Wisdom I've Received

10. Food works.

9. Keep a journal.

8. Designate a prayer "closet."

7. Listen to your gut.

6. Say "yes" as often as possible.

5.Study your children and you'll know them better than any specialist.

4. I hate to tell you this but, it gets worse.

3. Think of it as a marathon not a sprint.

2. When you want to get someone's attention, whisper.

1. It is more important where my kids are in 20,000 years than in 20.

I am not saying I actually heeded all of this good advice at every turn but, with the bit of hindsight I have, I would say these are the ten that still ring truest.

Each of them has a back story which I'll spare you in the interest of time. Or we could make a guessing game of it: which do you think came from our home program case manager shortly after diagnosis? Which from a fundamental Christian homeschooler? Which as advice for flying cross country alone with toddler twins? Which from another mother of twins when mine couldn't walk? Which from a perfume ad campaign?

Apply it as you may or laugh in acknowledgment.

Yubo Disqualified

Yubo called me this morning! We have a most peculiar admiration society.

His daughter had a fever; he wasn't sure who to call. Would I get word to the proper symphony and chamber authorities? Of course.

Hey, that disqualifies him from the competition. Right? I win!

(I think I once won a student body election this way.) Uncontested. Interference? Whatever it takes.

I must say it was a relaxing drive down University Avenue today. Downright boring.

Yubo's Secret is Out

Allie is a good girl, really she is. Doesn't miss a trick. And she tells me everything!

Privileged to ride with Yubo cross-town last Saturday, she reported, "Mom, as soon as we got in the car, he opened a map on his lap and said, 'this week we go new way!"

Of course, she nearly died laughing inside and couldn't wait to text me. Aha...so that is his trick! Not a GPS, an old-fashioned map. I'm secretly pleased to know I have this guy on the run, though. He is competing with me. I knew it! Good thing I have Allie as a spy.

Yubo Would Go

Once a quarter, our weekends turn into marathons of active duty requiring 2 fully caffeinated adults on a mission to divide and conquer, in order to accomplish the intricate array of rehearsals, call times, college fairs, recitals, practices, and gigs (not their own) laid out in a 30-mile radius.

To pull it off last Saturday, I needed Yubo's help. Jim and I both wanted to see The Kingsmen's noontime concert at the American Music Therapy Conference. Kat had to work. Allie doesn't drive for another 6 months.

I called Yubo to ask my favor. Could he transport Allie from symphony to chamber? Once he realized who I was, "yes, no problem."

I continued with my female incantation of the why's and wherefore's of our scheduling conflict. We'd get her downtown and home at the end, but that middle run cross-town coincided with Reid's gig. It would be oh-so-helpful if he would do it. Of course, he'd already said yes, but I felt the need to embellish.

"Don't worry. I get her there," came his crisp reply.

Oh, I know you will Yubo, I thought to myself and on time. What a guy!

Tight Spots

I chuckled empathetically to see how precious Rhema looks, at 4, climbing into (or out of) this washing machine. Flooding my mind's eye are tight spots Reid has sought and found over his lifespan. From the recyling bin on the windowsill of our cellar stairs in Chicago to the built-in china hutch by the back door, he is like a little caterpillar finding choice spots to form a crysalis and hang for a couple months.

I remember losing him temporarily at a Home Depot once. Allie and I had a search-and-recover plan devised by then. I was relieved to hear the calm in her voice as she merely pointed, "Mom..." He was happily jabbering in a stack of 18" resin planters in the Garden Center.

Last night Allie and Kat were laughing uncontrollably on their pillows. This morning I asked, "what was sooo funny?" They were howling over an after-school moment that I hadn't realized was so hysterical. Pour quoi pas? Once they explained, I see the joke was on me this time.

Situational comedy requires a backstory. You got time?

Reid's been pining for an aluminum garbage can for awhile. The plastic yard waste ones we have are just not adequate to reenact the Sesame Street episode in which Oscar the Grouch releases a balloon from his can. For one, they don't have lids. For two, well they're not metal.

This fixation is relatively new but has led to some awkward moments in public and around the house. Define awkward, you say.

Well, it's just a pain to have to search for the garbage can when you have something to pitch. As imaginary props, ours are migrating to isolated corners of the house and yard. I don't feel it is the best use of my time to pick up rolls of discarded plastic garbage can liners in the garage. I prefer not to deal with the quizzical stares in waiting rooms, lobbies and department stores when Reid approaches every trash receptacle in sight. He removes the contents, turns his back to it, squats slightly, then tries it on for size. Awkward? Embarrassing? Will you give me idiosyncratic?

I can deal with it. It's not exactly a safety matter yet, neither is it a life skill we want to encourage. When Jim witnesses it (usually over the weekend) he undoubtedly asks, "why is he doing that?" To which I whine, "I don't knooow." Could be that Reid's new job at school is to empty waste cans. Could be the Oscar obsession. Could be sensory. Bottom line, it's just weird and blows our cover when we're "pretending to be normal" in the words of Liane Holliday Willey.

Much like the decision to get u-verse (and pre-empt a trespassing felony) I called Jim yesterday and said, "Are you anywhere near Dixieline Lumber?" He had the day off and I'd already gone once for lightbulbs.

"I could be," he mused.

I got right to the point, "Will you pick up that aluminum can? I know they have 'em. Reid spied it the other day." I had talked him into putting it on the perpetual wishlist. "Christmas is coming....," I'd intoned.

"Are you sure it won't turn into an obsession?" Jim wondered warily.

"I'm not sure of anything but we're outside Henry's Marketplace and he's getting into theirs, so just get one," I lovingly replied.

Since Jim has been a saint lately, he obliged us both. Reid ran into the house, picked up the can in a giant bear hug maneuver and brought it into the kitchen. The balloon he'd talked about putting into it and releasing had long since bit the dust. So, what would you do? Be the balloon, as they say in sports psychology. Reid hopped right in, Oscar-the-Grouch style. Only thing is, he's 15 not 4.

I was distracted emptying grocery bags, reconnoitering with Jim and Kat, settling Allie and a friend into their after-school routine and famished from skipping lunch. Picture commotion. When a frantic plea was broadcast, "Mom! get me out of here!"

Reid was folded in half, butt first in the can. Head and feet protruding from the top.

Bear in mind, this is just par for the course around here. It was my sudden response that threw them into hysterics. With the confidence that comes from years of practice, I darted over, grabbed him under the shoulders and pulled with all my might. Any mother would do the same, right? Christopher Robin to the rescue!

Apparently, this works better with toddlers. My adrenaline was not enough even with a foot shoved into the bottom of the can for leverage. He didn't budge. Thinking quickly (and fearing escalation and panic) I tipped it over as if pouring out a 50-pound bag of Alpo. Reid's feet were on the ground then, so he more or less walked out of it as we slipped the can off him like a candle snuffer.

Wish I had a picture for you. Maybe this afternoon. Unless of course, that natural consequence has extinguished the behavior.

Find out about all the hiding places he uses and come back to me with definite information. Then I will go with you 1 Samuel 23:22-24

Then he asked them, "If one of you has a son or an ox that falls into a well on the Sabbath day, will you not immediately pull him out?" Luke 14:4-6

Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. Hebrews 10:22-24

Eyes on the Shepherd

I am not very athletic. I am however, competitive.

One Sunday last spring Allie and I made our way to her Certificate of Merit music test on San Diego State's campus. Not sure of our actual destination, we followed printed directions through a maze of parking complexes. The sight of other parent/child groupings with black music cases assured us we were on the right track.

We parked feeling like tourists in a small town who'd found the locals' only breakfast haunt. It may as well have been Chinatown as we joined the throng, who appeared to know where they were going. It was then that my quiet, prophetic little Allie, uttered another of her truths and birthed the now familial phrase, "Mom, we're "keepin' up with the Asians!"

We guffawed as we realized the truth of it and the multiple meanings. She attends an academically rigorous high school which is ethnically diverse. Their class trip is to China which heightens our awareness and discussions of shifts in world power.

The reality resonates as flute is her primary extracurricular pursuit. Every Saturday in order to participate in both Youth Symphony and a chamber quartet, we must hightail it across town in 15 minutes flat. We aren't the only ones. A classmate of Allie's and her sweet dad, Yubo, do the same.

He is genuinely kind, having offered to carpool, get lunch or anything to be helpful. I don't think he is competitive but as mentioned, I am. I also crave efficiency. (I have a crush on the motion engineer, father of 12, Frank Gilbreth, from Cheaper by the Dozen, the book). And I'm motivated by challenge. Tell me I can't do something and I surely will.

So a tight transition like this thrills me all the more because it coincides with meal time and requires navigational prowess. There lies a freeway between the symphony rehearsal space and the quartet location. First time I drove it, without googlemaps or a GPS, I got all turned around trying to find a surface street that crossed over the 805. We were several minutes late owing to my lack of preparation.

The next week, after discussion with Yubo, I played it safe and took a straight shot to University Avenue then a right on 36th which dead ends into this woman's rental studio. We were on time. What befuddled me is how Yubo is always there before me parked on the shady side of the street, practically with his feet up on the dash, smokin' a stogie, while I am breaking out in a full sweat secretly racing to keep up with him.

This past Saturday, with a tuna sandwich and Snapple to go, I got the Eurovan and pulled into the loading zone a leisurely 15 minutes ahead of dismissal time, and waited. I was relaxed, surveyed a used book sale on the lawn, and got back behind the wheel way before Allie emerged. On her heels, I recognized Yubo and his daughter. We waved a friendly hello. And within seconds, it struck me. He was on foot.

We could beat him today! He wasn't even in a vehicle. He'd neglected the advice he'd given me about pulling into the loading area in advance then circling out of the unloading fray. He was trekking across the great lawn, through full lots at the Museum of Natural History and beyond to some distant parking spot.

"Allie, get in quick! Keeping up with the Asians! Let's go, look alive, hustle, girlfriend."

"Ok. I'm in. Go ahead, GO, mom, go."

"Yubo, IT is on!"

We smoothly but swiftly made the 360 and were out on the open road headed into thru traffic. Allie had them in sight, still walking. Maybe he forgot where he'd parked? (doubtful) My adrenaline was pumping; we had to be a full 5 minutes ahead of him.

This was the day! I smugly cruised through the green lights, rights on red, mindful of not gunning it or otherwise setting a bad example for my near-driving-age daughter. Simultaneously, I was aware of modeling for her that assertiveness and ambition are every bit as much her claim as anyone's and that being first was within reach! We can do this thing. You can do anything you set your mind to...(check that theology before you repeat it)

I confidently turned the last corner preparing to park in front of Dr. K's studio and greet the rest of the quartet when they arrived. What to my wondering eyes did appear...YUBO!

Parked. In the shady spot. Cool, calm, collected. Talk about smug?!* How did he do that?!?

Impossible! The man has a short cut he's not sharing, or batwings on the Highlander, or something. I'm sure he didn't pass me. Allie and I had a good laugh as I feigned the disdain of a poor loser. She suggested it was blog material because of its hilarity. Yeah, but it's a little off topic, I thought. Until the spiritual significance and a pattern dawned on me this morning.

My 25 year old niece, who we all love, has moved in with us and is athletic (but not competitive). She is a team player par excellence and maximizer of others. So it is, that I am getting what I consider an extreme amount of exercise by virtue of spending quality time with her. Today we headed for our ocean front exercise loop which includes 8 flights of stairs. She runs. I walk.

Walking by myself has its benefits. I can sort through my thoughts rather than chatter and usually end up hearing something from the Lord especially when in eyeshot of His glorious ocean. The majesty of its expanse gives me pause and triggers a rush of verses and songs. Since I was alone, I could softly sing the Hallelujah... refrain that the Spirit brought to mind...your love makes me sing...your love is amazing...

Timing it so we'd end up at the car around the same time, I cut into the stairs a couple flights short of the entire loop. Descending, I caught myself scoping where Kathryn was from the top of each flight not just to synchronize, but to see if she was gaining on me!

I was not doing too bad for a 45 year old, non-athlete. Wait! What's wrong with me. You don't have to be first at everything. Then the tie-in came to me. A lesson from years back that I obviously haven't fully internalized. Am I so busy watching the other sheep that I've taken my eyes off the Shepherd?

Sadly, even within the disability world, there is competition and comparison that deters us from seeing who Jesus is and what God has just for us. We compare skills, deficits, levels of functioning, meds, therapies, and effectiveness. We compare siblings, expectations, and outcomes. To a degree this is discernment but much of it is distracting and even idolatrous.

I am going back to re-read Phillip Keller's classic, A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23.

"To whom will you compare me? Or who is my equal?" says the Holy One. Isaiah 40:24-26

Each one should test his own actions. Then he can take pride in himself, without comparing himself to somebody else, Galatians 6:3-5

As long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning, but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning. Exodus 17:10-12

I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. Philippians 3:13-15

Am I now trying to win the approval of men, or of God? Or am I trying to please men? If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a servant of Christ. Galatians 1:9-11

Everyday is Mother's Day

Anita Renfroe, a stay-at-home mom turned youtube phe-mom-enon, captures one facet of motherhood that does seem to be universal: our tendency to remind with cliche comments. Judging from the erupting ovation at the end, everyone can relate to her tongue-twisting litany of phrases that our mothers used, that even we are tired of saying but are somehow unavoidable. Certainly, our family must have tuned them out in daily use!

Imagine for a moment how often and by how many different support people, our kids with autism are subjected to these and more "helpful" reminders. Is it any wonder so many of them develop aggressive tendencies as well? It must be a torture akin to hearing the William Tell Overture ringing repeatedly in your eardrums throughout your waking hours. For each of your IEP goals, to be prompted by every therapist, aide, and case manager who hovers over your shoulder, "what do you say?" "use your words," "hands by your side," "quiet hands," "regular voice," "no talking," "personal space," "do it the fast way," "how do you ask?" One begins to see the benefits of sign language and hand signals very quickly. Or PECS. Spare me the constant drip, drip, drip.

Let's get 'em all out there! What phrase has become a noisy gong at your house lately?


If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 1 Corinthians 13:1-3




A quarrelsome wife is like a constant dripping on a rainy day; Proverbs 27:14-16




I consider it right, as long as I am in this earthly dwelling, to stir you up by way of reminder, 2 Peter 1:12-14

Myrrh Toothpaste and Gold Fillings: A Moriarty Christmas

My mom was a 2nd grade teacher throughout my childhood. She was adamant that anything entering our home be educational. We were not big consumers anyway, but at her insistence, we learned to value books and board games over electronics, "record albums," and most of what Target now sells. Between her legacy, years of home schooling and a veritable degree in autism training, I have developed a similar tendency to seek out games and toys that either strengthen social skills, improve proprioception, stimulate sequencing and reading comprehension, desensitize tactile aversion, or something.

Any purchase must pass through multiple filters. First, I must be able to justify it educationally. Then it must pass Reid's tough standards of being engaging and more entertaining than what he can conjure in his head. While Allie is our barometer on what is cool, pure fun or popularity is way down the list in my decision-making process. Instead, we evaluate based on whether the activity is visually motivating, offers concrete literal explanations, strengthens social skills, requires turn taking or develops critical thinking. We are loosening up now, but there was a time I purchased gifts based on how many IEP goals they addressed. I may have reached a compulsive level, you decide.

Our cupboards and closets are filled with specialized products from stores like The Therapy Shoppe, SuperDuper Publications and Timberdoodle. They are far superior actually, but not always kid pleasers on Christmas morning. In Christmases past, our living room has looked more like moving day at a Speech/OT clinic than any child's dream come true. The Mind Your Manners board game went over like a lead balloon. Allie rolls her eyes recalling a time Reid sent me to Toys R Us to pick up a specific TeleTubbies video he'd earned (by behaving appropriately at the grueling all day Saturday CYT rehearsals). Unfortunately for him, it was out of stock so I made an alternate selection: Mister Rogers' What Do You Do With the Mad that You Feel. Poor Reid, when I gave it to him he was too stunned to cry.

So it is, this Christmas, that I search for ways to make the Biblical reason for the season come to life in a concrete way in our home. Not with more stuff but with traditions and props that entertain while they educate about the historically significance of Christmas and the spiritual wonder. We are each giving 3 gifts to each other this year, dramatizing the three wise men who came bearing gifts to worship baby Jesus, the newborn King. You remember what they were: gold, frankincense and myrrh.

Guess what I found at Trader Joe's? Myrrh toothpaste! Actually, it is myrrh, fennel, propolis toothpaste from Tom's. Wow, that is the perfect stocking stuffer or what? It meets all my criteria, with a hygiene component to boot. And it's gluten free so if the kids don't comply, Jim can use it! I bought a case. (Kidding:)) Allie was with me in the store. We ran across it as I granted her request for her own tube of toothpaste. "How bout this one? for Christmas!" I said in my glee at the discovery. "That's totally disgusting!!" she scoffed. Now, to show you how self-aware I am, I replied with a straight face, tongue in cheek, "What part don't you like--the propolis, the fennel or the myrrh?" At which, we both cracked up laughing. I did buy the stuff but, she is holding out for her own tube of Crest.


Jim is wondering if we're trying to secretly embalm him since we learned that myrrh was used to prepare bodies for burial in Jesus' day. The myrrh actually foreshadowed Jesus' death on the cross reminding us that He came with the expressed purpose of dying for us. Try that on for an attitude adjustment each morning and night at the mirror. These object lessons are as much for us as for the kids. Apparently Reid is not the only one in the house who takes things literally.

So yesterday I was at Jimbo's, our local whole foods grocery, and what to my wondering eyes did appear? But two bottles of aromatherapy oil in scents oh so dear! I sprung for the cheaper ones mixed with jojoba oil and now have an olfactory link to the ancient stable. Aura Cacia has got my number. They offer this object lesson-in-a-bottle with no seasonal marketing or fanfare just there for the taking, for those with eyes to see. They categorize the frankincense as "Sanctifying" and the myrrh as "Comforting" on the labels. I am using a few drops of it--in my car diffuser and lamp ring--to stimulate my Advent meditation before it gets popped into a stocking late Christmas Eve. It reminds me what the Bible says about our prayers reaching heaven like sweet incense and that we are the aroma of Christ to those around us. If you were a scent, which one would you be?

Gold, I thought would be easy. Although since Allie and I prefer silver, I am not going for the obvious jewelry choice. I am actually still on the hunt for a gold incense box or bauble to put the toothpaste in? Or not. Perhaps at Whole Foods I can find some gold leaf sprinkles for the Nativity gingerbread cookies we make next week when there is NO SCHOOL! I'll keep you posted. Gotta go find gold that is fit for a king, The King of Kings.



On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. Matthew 2:10-12


Then they offered him wine mixed with myrrh, but he did not take it. Mark 15:22-24


These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. 1 Peter 1:6-8



Place these words on your hearts. Get them deep inside you. Tie them on your hands and foreheads as a reminder. Teach them to your children. Talk about them wherever you are, sitting at home or walking in the street; talk about them from the time you get up in the morning until you fall into bed at night. Deuteronomy 11:17-19 The Message

photo credit: www.eslpod.com/.../page/2/, i.dailymail.co.uk

The Power of "the Momb"

In a fit of desperation once, attempting to assert authority over my kids, I relied on that age-old expression that unequivocally answers the "why" question, "because...I am the mom." Only I was flustered and mixed it up with "being the boss." What came out was, "I'm the bomb!"

It was highly effective because we all burst into laughter (not because they respond favorably to dictatorship). Moms wield immeasurable influence. When my kids were infants (one not sleeping so well) I marveled at the power my drowsy hand on their crib had to soothe. My voice changes their behavior. My wave makes their day. My prayers break down the doors of heaven.

True confessions: I neglected one very important entity from my Top Ten list yesterday. My Mom! I am eternally grateful for her prayers for me, her formation of my life, her investment in my kids, her example of optimism in any circumstance, and her bold belief. She is the bomb! (Not only that, she's also my most faithful reader!)

Moms are moms, right? By that I mean, they are so woven into the fabric of our lives that we often forget they are other. So integral is their impact on us. This clip by the author comedian, Nicole Johnson at Fresh Brewed Life, is an apt illustration of how this happens.



We laugh because its true. Each of us is guilty of overlooking our moms. Those of us who've become moms, also laugh in recognition of how the shoe feels on the other foot. In all seriousness, my mom has lived a life of everyday sacrifice creating her own cathedral of beauty as a legacy. And so, I believe I can too...and so can you! For as she'd be the first to tell you, her strength is not her own; it comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth, through His Holy Spirit.

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.
Galatians 2:19-21

Children's children are a crown to the aged, and parents are the pride of their children.
Proverbs 17:5-7

But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.
Luke 2:18-20

photo credit: www.gifts.com