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So the new year started off with a bang! Brian and I had a fun, relaxing date night have a couple of shiners and playing shuffle board (it really IS fun) and enjoying each others company. Then, bang! On our way home, we get a call from Brian’s sister. Joe and Chet had a meeting of the minds and Chet’s lip is busted.

We drive (proud no speeding was involved) to the ER to meet Brian’s mom and dad with the wee one. Holy cow! He’s bitten a hole through his lip! First ER doc says. I’ll stitch him up, no problem. Ten minutes later, he comes back in…well, this is more complex than I thought. I want to give you the option of going to a hospital with a plastics doctor on call. So at 11 pm, we head to San Antonio. The ER doc tries to basically bully us into letting her stitch the wee ones lip. We almost give in, but the nurse says, “are you SURE you don’t want to wait for plastics?” It turns out a PS won’t come in in the middle of the night unless it’s a life or death situation. So at 3 am they tell us to come back tomorrow at 7. Fortunately, there was a motel 6 right across the street. The three of us got a few hours of shut eye and headed BAKC across the street at 7 where we check into the 2nd ER for the third time. We wait for about an hour and then are told a PS won’t come see us until 6 pm but one could work us into his schedule at his office. So, we make another trek to the PS office where for the first time I hear the wee one cry (shriek, really) at the sight of a needle. Numbing shot in. Watched the doc clean the wound really, REALLY well., and then stitch my baby up with what looked like a gold toned fishing hook.

So far so good. The swelling is down and he’s able to talk and eat nicely. He’s easing over his fears of re-injury at school.

After all this craziness, we were all ready to get back into a routine!

Last night, I was bribing the boys to try avocado (didn’t work…they wouldn’t do it). I told them avocado was really good for their testicles. It is. Don’t judge! So, j says, “I don’t know what those are.”
So I explained their location. He said, “are they to aid in our buoyancy?” After in turned around to hide my laughter and composed myself, I said “No, babe. They are part of your reproductive system.” He says, “are they sperm holders.” I say, “yep, bud, they are.” I guess he’s watched enough animal planet and various documentaries to know more than mom. He’s always good for a chuckle. I did explain that sperm, testicles and reproductive systems were not information we need to pass along at school. We shall see how long before I get a phone call or email about that.

Xoxoxo

Warning: this mama has a heart that is pounding. My palms are sweating. It’s like just before we see the hulk.

I know that in the wake of the mass murder of innocent children in CT, we are all looking for the why! But here is why I’m sad, I’m mad and I’m scared. I feared this since the first utterance of the word s autism and Aspergers on the news. I see people who I’ve been friends with for twenty plus years and acquaintances “like” posts where someone had talked about “these crazies” who are “weird” needing to be locked away before they can do something like this. Some of these Facebook friends claim our lack of prayer in school is why this happened.

I am sick. I am scared. As had as it was to decide to get an Aspergers diagnosis for j was emotionally, now I’m scared for his future. I see people I’ve always felt we’re kind, loving people turn into an angry mob. Some may as well have pitch forks and torches. I fear that a few of j’s teachers who don’t erm “care for him” will now target him. Maybe that fear isn’t rational, but I’m seeing some scary stuff.

A friend said to me “I hope they find out this kid had something else wrong.” My thinking is this: first, the damage is done in so many ways. They won’t retract the autism statement. People already have the opinions. Secondly, then a whole other group of parents will worry for their kids. I think the autism community is strong enough for this. Finally, just as I can’t make others change how they feel, I can not un-see what you’ve “liked” or statuses you’ve commented on. I appreciate the eye opening insight into your true feelings.

Peace love and blessings to you all!

So yesterday I was on Facebook, whining about dealing with my insurance for 30 minutes.  Then, I clicked over to yahoo.  I immediately felt sick.  I’d been joking around without knowing of the unthinkable atrocities that had taken place in Connecticut.

I have so many emotions, like everyone else.  First, I didn’t believe it happened.  Then, anger. LOTS of anger.  Then, sheer grief and the desire to pick my kids up early from school.

Last night I realized that I had another very mixed emotion.  This shooter.  This troubled young man.  HE was someones child.  Someone’s brother.  HE was loved by someone.  Just because he did these terrible, vile things it doesn’t erase that fact.

Then, this morning, as I’m perusing the internet looking for more information in my already information overloaded brain, I see what I was dreading.  The shooter was diagnosed with Asperger’s.  Damn It. Then I see all sorts of comments I know I shouldn’t read at the bottom of a story.  They anger me even when reading a “fun” article.  But the cries of “lock the crazies up” have left me feeling even more ill.  One person took the leap to say that because someone with ASD lacks empathy it makes them MORE prone to violence.

Can someone with ASD commit such crimes?  Sure. The Autism community isn’t immune to atrocities.  But let me be clear.  People with Autism DO have empathy.  It may not present in the way you want it to, but it IS there.  I had an afternoon snack with one of my dearest friends yesterday.  Her child also has Asperger’s.  Guess what he did?  He gave his sister is jacket because she was cold.  They may not react the way you want them to at news of someone’s passing.  But they are processing in a way that is so much more complex than the neurotypical.  So, please, don’t blame Autism.  Autism isn’t responsible for this madness. Autistic people aren’t “crazies” who need to be locked up.

I know we feel like we need a “Why.”  There isn’t always an answer.  My choice today is to follow the advice of Fred Rogers:

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of ‘disaster,’ I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world.” — Mister Rogers

I’m torn. It’s that time of year again…the holidays. This time comes with a certain amount apprehension and anxiety every year. This year, I want to be with my little family, eat our turkey and the trimmings. I want to relax and enjoy. But, here’s the rub. Stocky is back in the hospital, more than likely going to a rehab facility, and
I feel like I need to hug his neck. I need to hug my Teda. I was feeling homesick for them before this, but now, I’m heartsick too. I’m sure that Stocky will pull through this with flying colors, but I have this need to lay eyes on my family. See, Teda and Stocky are home. They are unconditional love. They are my Teda and Stocky.

So, I’m off the book. I need some space. Here are five reasons why:

1.) I began judging my own happiness based in others posts about how blissful their lives are.

2.) I bean to feel like a phony. It’s not to say I need to air my dirty laundry, but only posting what cute things my fantastic kids and wonderful husband have done lately isn’t authentic. Yes, they are fantastic, but always? No. It gives a sense of faux bliss. Am I happy? Yes, most of the time.

3.). I spend WAY TOO much time checking out what clever things people post, what memes and e cards are circulating and too little time focusing on what matters most.

4.). I found that I was/am expecting people who I’ve not seen in ages or maybe have never seen to validate me.

5.) I need to take the time to nurture the real, present relationships in my life. I need to find a way to be uplifted not by people who don’t really know me, but by those in a position to really do so.

So, will I be back? Probably. My goal here is to reduce my need to be liked. Literally and figuratively. In the mean time, I hope you will shoot me an old fashioned email at kristibell01@yahoo.com

See ya around friends.

Xoxoxo k