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Showing posts from 2012

Really?

Last night my husband and I had the opportunity to escape for quick, impromptu date night and go to the movies. Often not agreeing on movies, we settled on the new Quentin Tarantino film Django,Unchained. Generally I am a fan of Tarantino films although they tend to be over the top in their graphic goriness and bloodiness. This one was no exception. The subject matter was harsh, the language was explicit and the blood was flying. It is, in no doubt, and R rated film. But the most horrifying moment of the night occurred before the film even started. It was an 8 o'clock film with a running time of two hours 45 minutes. After adding in previews a conservative estimate of ending time of the film would be about 11 PM (it was late for me to be out especially having worked all afternoon). Just moments before the start of the show, a couple came in and sat in the seats directly next to us.  With their young child, approximately 18 months-old.  Pat and I looked at each other as if to say

The Best Gift I Have to Give

In homes across the country, and I assume the world, the stress levels have peeked.  Christmas is TOMORROW!  Moms are in full blown panic mode.  (Except, of course for those who are all set. For the record, I don't like you.)  We have run around like chickens with their heads cut off for the last five weeks.  We have poured over sale fliers trying to find just the right gift at the best price.  Then, about a week ago, we said "screw it" and paid more money just for the sake of not having to go to another  store. We're up to our elbows in wrapping paper and bows and cookie dough.  We've had lots of late nights with one more to go.  If I could receive sleep wrapped under the tree tomorrow, I'm pretty I would be very happy. The events of the last few weeks have helped me figure out why I go through this every year.  Magic.  I want to give my kids magic.  They are children for such a short time.  Innocence is lost earlier and earlier with each generation.  Giv

My gift

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Normally, I look forward to going to sleep each night, but especially on Mondays.  Going to bed tonight is going to age me a year.  Sometime in the wee hours of the morning (ok, 2:54 am to be exact), I'm going to turn a year older.  I'm going to be, gulp, 37.  That's officially late 30's.  How did that  happen?  Most days, I don't feel a day over 50. I have more lines on my face.  My freckles are no longer cute.  And they're getting larger.  And they can kind of be called age spots at this point.  My joints hurt some of the time.  I make involuntary grunting noises when  squatting down or standing up. But I'm sort of ok with it.  I'm at a good point in my life right now.  My kids are great ages, especially during this holiday season.  I like my job and think that I have enough experience now that people kind of, sometimes respect what I have to say.  My husband and I have worked through the ups and downs of 11 years of marriage and are there for each

The Underlying Issue

The events of Sandy Hook are truly, truly horrible.  I'm having trouble even formulating words and thoughts about the atrocities that took place.  My heart breaks for the parents of those twenty children, and for the families of the valiant adults who, no doubt, tried to protect the innocent lives. Social media is on fire right now with talk about gun control.  That tighter gun control could have prevented this.  That now is the time for increased gun control.  That increased gun control is the answer. But what I do not hear anyone talking about is mental illness.  I have to believe that the man who did this was mentally ill.  Because if he were not, he was soulless and evil, and I cannot believe that a person like that actually exists in this world.  In this country, we do not have adequate health care for people with mental illness, especially severe mental illness.  The largest clearing house for people with significant mental illness in this country is prison.  We do not ha

One step back and two steps forward

Every so often, things do not go how you expect.  Like when I deliver bad news, and it is awesome. Yep, you got that right, awesome. There was the time I told a mom that I thought her child needed a wheelchair.  When I said it, she paused, and there was an intake of breath.  She listened to the reasoning and rationale.  She listened when we reiterated that is was her decision, not ours.  She listened to the pros and cons.  She listened to the process.  She listened to me when I explained how it would help her child and her family.  She listened when I explained how I could help her.  And then she told me to go ahead and do it.  Awesome. This is one of the crappy, but often unspoken parts of my job.   In the schools, my job is to make sure that kids can access their education in a safe and efficient manner.  Physical therapy in the schools is not designed to meet all the therapeutic needs of a student, but rather just those that impact access to one's education.  It involves a

'Tis the Season

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So, it's December again.  Which means one thing...MY BIRTHDAY!!! No, seriously, it's that busy Christmas season where the words 'chaotic' and 'cacophony' can be used almost daily.  The moms I know are running around, even more frenzied and harried than usual.  The dads must still believe in Santa, because suddenly, Christmas has been delivered to their house.  Even though Thanksgiving was early this year, there never seems to be enough time (ie, weekends) leading up to the big day. I gotta admit...I love the lights.  I love the way my house looks all decorated.  I hate taking the stuff down, not just because it's a lot of work, but because my perfectly respectable house looks dull and blah afterwards.  I love that the kids plug the tree and indoor lights is every night.  There is just something indescribably peaceful about sitting in a room lit only from the soft glow of the golden Christmas tree lights. Singing Christmas songs really does lighten

Reliving the awesomeness

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My husband and I are getting a chance to relive the awesomeness that was our childhoods...Star Wars. Now, I'm by no means a Star Wars geek, but I was born in the 1970's, so Star Wars was the iconic symbol of my youth.  I used to think that the 20th Century Fox theme was part of the Star Wars theme music, since watching the videos always started with that.  Insert geektoid fact here...the Star Wars trilogy is what saved 20th Century Fox from bankruptcy.  We had all three movies on VHS (illegally copied, of course).  I remember going to the theater to see Return of the Jedi in June 1983 for my oldest brother's 12th birthday party.  I only ever saw the other two at home on VHS (I was only 18 months old when Episode IV debuted). I so wanted to be Princess Leia. Now, Pat and I have spent a few nights this week watching parts of the three original movies with the kids (they've been on Spike), the four of us lined up on the couch all snuggled under the fuzzy blanket.  We

Scary Things...

A few disturbing things have happened in the last day or so.  The first thing, and it is a minor one, is that my daughter smuggled bubble gum in with the groceries (she hid from me on the conveyor belt so that I didn't see it, but still paid for it).  She has been asking for that gum, and I keep telling her 'no.'  She knew I would say no and deliberately schemed, successfully so, to get the gum.  At least she was honest enough to know that we had to pay for it, and is not dishonest enough to steal it.  She figured, however, that I still would not let her have it, and has suggested that we give it to Papa.  For the record, Sophia gets gum whenever she rides with Papa, which is at least three days a week when he picks her up.  She is cunning enough to realize that giving the gum to Papa is really giving the gum to herself, thereby creating a loop-hole in the punishment I have deemed fitting.  She is a born politician.  I'm standing strong and not letting her have the gum.

Thank You

On this, the observance of Veterans Day, I would like to say thank you. I want to start by saying 'thank you' to the legions of men and women who have given of themselves in service to this country.  Thank you to the souls who never come home from duty.  Thank you to the souls who do come home, but are forever changed.  Thank you to the families who sacrifice while their loved ones defend my rights and my freedoms. Personally, I want to thank my father who spent 30 years in the reserves.  While as a child, I noticed your absence on that one weekend a month and two weeks a year, it was a minor sacrifice to have the rights that I enjoy and take for granted.  Being a member of the 109th Airlift Wing was so very important to you.  I am so proud of the work you did and the roles you played in some important missions. I want to thank my grandfather, who came home from battle, but fought internally for the rest of his too brief life.  He fought in the Pacific Theater, taking par

One of a Kind

1 in 88.   My son is the one in 88 children who have Austism Spectrum Disorder.  There, I said it.  It is hard to say, even though he was diagnosed almost five years ago.  I can still tell you that day, even without looking at a calendar.  January 11, 2008.  I can tell you what I was wearing (black nursing top, jeans).  I remember Sophia was so sick with what we later learned was RSV.  My grandmother was in the hospital with pneumonia.  My cousin and his wife had just had a baby, several weeks early.  And Developmental Pediatrics called and said they had a cancellation and could see Jake that day.  I remember thinking, as I was rushing to get my 4 month-old and almost 4 year-old ready with just 30 minutes notice that, "This might be our last time being normal."  If he was given the diagnosis, from that day on, he would never be a normal child again.   But he wasn't "normal," whatever that was. Obviously, if he was, we would not have been seeking an evalua

I Gotta Bad Feeling About This...

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So, I had a great day yesterday.  I worked my tail off, and got most of my list  accomplished.  For those of you keeping track, I only managed 5 loads of laundry instead of 6, and only got 2 of the 5 folded.  I figured folding laundry is something that doesn't require electricity, so as long as it's washed, I can fold it later (Plus, playing Bubble Safari and Angry Birds does  require electricity, so I needed to get my fix in).  Before you besmirch me, let me tell you that, in addition to the listed items, I ended up cleaning some expired food out of the pantry, returning cans and bottles to the market, unloading and reloading the dishwasher a second time, made dinner (a yummy tortellini soup), writing a blog post (thanks Cathy for pointing that out), and carving pumpkins with the family. And I was so good that God rewarded me with a day off from work.  Because of the impending storm, my district closed.  I work in an inner-city school district that doesn't bus, and the p

Why I'm Kind-of OK with Stormageddon

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As we all know, the storm of all storms, Hurricane Sandy, is barreling down on us.  It's predicted to be completely and totally awful.  The meteorologists (who are in HEAVEN) are likening this to  The Perfect Storm  of 1991 (which also occurred on October 28).  This one is expected to be worse because it is expected to make landfall and impact Washington, Philadelphia, NYC and Boston. People are starting to panic, and the kids are scared sh*tless.  Mostly, because they're afraid we won't get to trick-or-treat on Wednesday. Here's why I'm kind-of diggin' it...it's making me be productive.  I procrastinate...a lot.  I waste a lot of time, as well.   As a result, my house is in constant state of dirt, clutter and controlled chaos. I simply cannot keep the house clean and take care of all my projects just because.  I need a specific motivating factor to get going.  I know, in the back of my mind, that Thanksgiving is just around the corner, and I really

How Racing to the Top is causing me to Bottom Out...

School is kicking my rear-end this year.  I hate it.   And I don't mean the schools I work in...I mean my children's school.  My kids are in Kindergarten and 3rd grade, and education in New York has gone to hell in a hand basket.  With the adaptation of the Common Core Learning Standards , and the addition of testing for teacher evaluations , it is a whole new game.  And one that is definitely less fun for the whole family.  It's not only making me hate school, but my kids as well.  Five o'clock, the usual witching hour, is now the dreaded homework hour.  There is frustration and yelling and tears.  This is not how school should be. Firstly, it needs to be stated that New York State has adopted both of the aforementioned programs in order to receive federal funding.  Without adopting these measures, New York State could lose out on the monies from the Obama Race to the Top initiative.  It is a huge sum of money (something like $700 million). However, the Common Core

Randomness for a Friday Night

Even though it was a four day work week, this week seemed to take forever.  Just a lot of randomness tonight, and so I thought I'd share. My dad bought me a gift today (pepper spray).  On the packaging, it says, "Making men cry since 1975."  I can relate. My daughter's definition of cute:  Danny (a boy she likes), babies and kittens. My son's take on Star Wars:  The Death Maul is actually a mall located in the Death Star.  Oh, and dressing up as Darth Vader is so  two-years ago. The mixed bag of emotions regarding making Halloween costumes has been replaced by a feeling of total awesomeness at making a costume without a pattern, and making creative use of fabric remnants given to me by a friend.  Excited about the outcome. How many shows about Alaska are now on TV?  Even though they all pretty much seem the same, I'd take them over Housewives or Honey Boo Boo any day. Why is one of the cats set to go off at 4 am and why can't I find his sn

Bittersweet

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About a year ago, I wrote a post about my annual making of Halloween costumes.  If you're really, really bored and need a refresher, you can read it  here . A lot happened last year while making the costumes.  My sewing machine broke, about 3/4 of the way through finishing the second costume.  I borrowed a friend's, but couldn't get that to work either.  And then my grandmother got sick, and passed away.  It was all very quick, but those four days in the hospital seem like they were the longest on record.  With family still in town, and snow on the ground (remember that--it snowed in October, and then not again until March!?!), I sent my husband to pick up my machine, which was blissfully fixed, so I could finish Mr. Lincoln's costume. Here's how they turned out: So, pretty much a year has passed. Sophia decided that she wanted to be Alice in Wonderland about 10 seconds after meeting her in Epcot this summer.  I held her to it, mostly because she changes her

I'm Grateful

I'm grateful for this beautiful fall day, and for my children who laugh and play. I'm grateful for this house that I designed, this roof, this building, the things I call mine. I'm grateful for my dad who cooks me dinner, but need to stop worrying about being thinner. I'm grateful for all the skills Mom taught me, they help me to be all I that I can be. I'm grateful for my friends who make me laugh and smile, and are always there for me, going that extra mile. I'm grateful for every laugh, every giggle, even the ones that make my belly jiggle. I'm grateful that I get to be someone's wife, as it has given purpose to my life. I'm grateful for my husband, who is my best friend, and will share each day with me until THE END.

It's Time for Gingerbread!

With gale force winds whipping outside, and the mention of frost and snow, you think this post is going to be about the wintertime cookie, right? Nope.  It's not even about gingerbread lattes, which are completely and totally wonderful in and of themselves and a reason to celebrate fall. This story is about what happens when you don't follow the rules.  While Jake has presented with and continues to present many challenges in parenting him, one of the easiest things about him is his NEED to follow rules. So, if you tell him that something is a 'rule,' expect him to follow it. But, then, there's Sophia.  I often say (and really, really mean) that it's a good think they look alike, otherwise we'd be convinced that one of them got switched at the hospital.  Because they are nothing, and I mean nothing alike.  Pretty much polar opposites. So, to Sophia, a rule is not a hard and fast thing.  It's flexible and malleable, and made to not necessarily be

Adaptation.

As a school physical therapist, a large part of my job is about adapting the environment so that a child can access his or her education.  This includes things like stair climbing ability (or access to elevators), using more supportive chairs with arms, modifying the desk by using a slant board.  I "come up" with these adaptations to bridge the gaps where we cannot help a child adapt to his or her environment.  For example, a child with CP who is non-ambulatory and will never be ambulatory needs seating and access adaptations made.  We do our best to help the child gain the skills necessary, but sometimes we rely on external rather than internal adaptations.  I think it is a job I'm fairly decent at.  I think I do well with the out of the box thinking that it requires. I've been having the discussion lately with many people about whether it is best to adapt to the environment or have the environment adapt to you.  For example, it has come up when discussing food all

The Birds and the Bees

Last spring, we got two male kittens. Some point during July, I (with the kids in tow, of course) had to take them to the vets for shots, etc, and to find out when they can be neutered.  I had prepped the kids that the kittens would be having surgery so they cannot become dads.  On the way to the vet, Sophia told Jake that they were having surgery so they can't have babies. Jake, being precise as always, had to correct her that they cannot have babies because they are boys.  Sophia agreed and said, "Well, they are having an operation so they can't become dads." After a momentary pause, Jake asked, "Mom, what part  helps them become dads?" Ok, quick thinking here.  What do I say?  If I mention penis, Sophia will say penis to everyone she meets, everywhere.  Ok, think quick.  How can I say it so Jake gets it, but she doesn't? "Umm, their franks and beans." Silence from the back.  Crisis averted, kudos to me. The silence was processing

In defense of the Bumbo

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This post is pretty much a rant, but it is also more from a therapist perspective...just warning you.  I am not a paid spokesperson (although, Bumbo people, if you want to pay me to endorse your product, I'd be ok with that). It is about a wonderful baby product called a Bumbo seat.  For those of you not familiar, it is a contraption that looks like this: It is used to help babies who are not yet independent sitters sit upright.  It is a great way to work on head and neck control, as well as visual development, since the babies are upright.  It gives them a chance to work with their eyes in a vertical plane, giving them the opportunity to work their eye muscles as they work their head and neck muscles.  They even have little trays so kids can work on their fine motor skills too. Random picture found on internet when googling Bumbo Bumbo seats have just been recalled for the second time in five years.  It bums me out.  They are being recalled for the same reason, too.  I

Changing my feathers

A few months ago, there was an article in Good Housekeeping about happiness.  Ok, there is always an article about happiness, and I rarely read them.  Sometimes, they are just touchy-feely crap and that annoys me.  Sometimes they talk about writing happiness journals.  You see the frequency that I'm on here to blog.  Do you think I really have time for that?  Anyway, I read the opening paragraphs, and it talked about choosing to be a bluebird of happiness or a pigeon of discontent.  I didn't go much further, but liked those expressions. I want to be a bluebird, but know that I'm genetically programmed to be a pigeon. But I want to change.  Since July of last year, our family has lost several significant members.  It's been rough, to say the least.  There was the dear family friend, who, to this day, I still call "Uncle."  He and his family were so critically interwoven with my childhood that to remove them would undo the whole fabric of my life.  He was on

A mother's pastime...grocery shopping

So, here in the great Capital District, we have two main grocery stores, Price Chopper and Hannaford.  Most people I know are loyal to one or the other.  There is not a lot of cross mingling.  Price Chopper is truly a local company, run by the Golub Corp out of Rotterdam/Schenectady.  It has been around forever.  PC has outlasted Grand Union, Shop Rite, A&P, Edwards, just to name a few.  My mom was never a PC shopper.  We were Grand Union all the way. So, now that, somehow, I'm a "responsible" adult, I spend a lot of time in the supermarket.  And a lot of my money.  I feel obligated to get the best stuff for the best price.  I have looked around, and Hannaford (or the Big H, as I like to call it), really does have the best overall prices.  They do not have a loyalty card.  Everyone gets the sale prices.  I like that, no discrimination.  Price Chopper runs fantastic sales, so you can get some really good deals.  A lot of times, their BOGO offers run in conjunction wi