For My First Girl - My Threnody Jenae (sensitive material)

Eleven years since I saw your face.
Eleven years since I said "goodbye."
Eleven years of not being the same,
Since the moment I learned you were mine.



I never felt your breath on my skin.
I never felt your warmth on my chest.
I never felt the way a first mom feels,
The joy and elation, disturbing rest.

But I did feel you grow.
And I did feel you move.
And I did know your name,
Learning everything that was you.

All you were was everything to me.
All you were was my girl.
All you were was a moment in time,
You are still a part of my world.

I can only hope for forever.
I can only pray to be your mom again.
I can only be the best I can be,
So that I might be with you in Heaven.

May I be tried and tested and be found worthy.
I will always be yours, and you will always be mine.

The Coughing Girl

It is amazing how simply looking at this picture, I gag a little.

I have so much to say about finishing Couch to 5K (I have about 5 runs to blog!), and a trip to Disneyland! But all that seems to consume my mind is the onslaught of doctor's appointments this week.

Tomorrow, Monday, there are FOUR. Tuesday there is one, and then a pack meeting. Wednesday is something important... why can't I remember? Thursday The Captain is golfing, and then I get ME time! (THANK YOU!) Friday I have two appointments.

This week Bear does Occupational Therapy and most likely begins medication for anxiety. It makes me want to cry, but I won't. This week we learn if Peach will have surgery on her eyes, or perhaps corrective lenses, or patches - or nothing. This week we will learn if Lambie is getting her tonsils out. The poor girl is talking funny, coughing all night long, hardly sleeping, has had strep (or strep like colds) for the last two months, and has been on antibiotics for 10 days... I wish I could help her. I know the relief that will come from the surgery, but I wish she didn't have to go through it. I am concerned with the timing and school starting up.

Do all three children have to have so much going on at once? Why can't they be orderly and take turns? You'd think they were ants on honey the way they are with health issues.

Oh yes, Wednesday. I'm going to Eugene for orientation at the UofO for classes, for me, starting in two months.

Weeks like this, I hold onto the stability I have in my life - all that is constant. I am thankful for it.

Before and After the Asperger's Diagnosis

This weekend I got to experience the feeling of being what Lambie now calls "The Big Mama Chicken" thanks to comparing a hen and her baby chicks (the hen doesn't like her babies messed with) at The Country Mouse's home today, to me.

This weekend, an elderly woman kept telling Bear to look at her when she's talking to him, and my heart broke a little, because I knew he was really listening since he wasn't allowing himself to be distracted by watching her face. I heard someone talk to him as though he was "slow", asking him if he understood what "milk" was and what it meant to "freeze" something. (The chances that the first person reads this is nil, the second, very very unlikely.) And others... Just writing it out makes my heart ache. I don't want my man cub treated differently. So I am going to tell you a little about my Bear, before, and after. Maybe it will help. Especially those of you who love him so dearly.

Before you knew he had Asperger's:
He was bright
He had a killer vocabulary
He was obsessed with Lego's
He was gentle and kind
He was kind of silly
He loved babies which was really sweet
He was safe and careful
He was honest
He chewed on his shirt
He cried easily
He liked hugs
He wasn't good at sports, but sure liked them
He loved math and being surrounded by friends
He liked frogs and snakes
He kept his room tidy
He loved making people laugh
He was a good swimmer, but not a thrill seeker
He was a smart kid
He wasn't a troublemaker
He understood you when you talked normal, at normal pace, unless it's figurative, and then...
He would ask you what words or phrases meant
He wouldn't look you in the eye when he was talking to you
He would have major tantrums, usually in the comforts of home
He would get overwhelmed and zone out
He would remember everything
He needed to have a predictable schedule
He needed to be coached ahead of time, when there was a social situation
He was not retarded
He had the most admirable integrity and loyalty

Now that you know he has Asperger's:
He is bright
He has a killer vocabulary
He is obsessed with Lego's
He is gentle and kind
He is kind of silly
He loves babies which is really sweet
He is safe and careful
He is honest
He chews on his shirt
He cries easily
He likes hugs
He isn't good at sports, but sure likes them
He loves math and being surrounded by friends
He likes frogs and snakes
He keeps his room tidy
He loves making people laugh
He is a good swimmer, but not a thrill seeker
He is a smart kid
He isn't a troublemaker
He understands you when you talk normal, at normal pace, unless it's figurative, and then...
He asks you what words or phrases mean
He won't look you in the eye when he is talking to you
He will have major tantrums, usually in the comforts of home
He will get overwhelmed and zone out
He will remember everything
He needs to have a predictable schedule
He needs to be coached ahead of time, when there is a social situation
He is not retarded
He has the most admirable integrity and loyalty


This is not directed at anyone, so do not worry. I just know that I have been guilty of treating a child differently when I learned of an Asperger's/Autism diagnosis, rather than getting to know the kid. So maybe it helps if I tell you what he's like... ???

Treat him like you always have... But if you want to help... guide him in social situations, and treat him with patience when he's "acting up", if you would... It's all I ask. He thinks he's like any other kid, and blends in well, and I want him to maintain that confidence. It could save his life someday.



Art: Look Me in the Eye by Green Rhapsody

My FREE Summer

One of the beautiful things about being *whisper* "poor" is that you find blessings in the simplest of places. You find that what might be ordinary to most, is actually amazing.

I plan on writing much more about this journey in my life when I am no longer *whisper* "poor" because I don't want anyone to actually know. You know? As with all struggles, I have learned A LOT. And when I think I've humbled myself and learned much more than possible, I learn even MORE! Yes, I will write about it later. I promise you. Hopefully sooner than later... because I can't wait for it to end.

At any rate...

This Summer is exciting! I have loved every single moment with my children, except yesterday when they were pick pick picking on each other until The Captain came home and distracted them with play. (Hooray for an amazing man!) At the beginning of the summer, I wrote down EVERYTHING possible to do around this town that was FREE! Free library program, free movies in the park, free bowling, free coupons for Bulwinkle's with the library program, free magic shows, free puppet shows, free Lego builds at the Lego store (3 hour wait), free movies on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, free lunch at the school, and so forth. And then there's the always free picnics at the park, kite-flying, boomerang and frisbee throwing, soccer ball kicking, bike riding, popsicles, sidewalk chalk, bubbles, treasures frozen in ice that you break apart with a hammer, kiddie pool, and art projects to name a few...

However, I learned today, the hard way, that there are no more free lunches at the school. The free movies at the theatre are now $1. The free bowling charges for shoes if you get the angry "old" man. I almost lamented the demise of the freebies, but then realized how much we've already enjoyed this week. Friends on Monday with a picnic trip to the park (enjoying our Country Mouse family daughters stand among the playground figuring out exactly what to do, since it did not involve climbing trees or "throwing chickens".), Fourth of July crafts, trips to the library for reading time, science time, songs and games, and playing with MDV and KMcI and children at the park after learning about the non-free's, playdates, and Cub Scouts. Tomorrow we will enjoy a magic show and a movie with Boombah (my dad), and Friday... Well, Friday has yet to be discovered!

What a joyful time, and a fun time. We live in a great town, with endless, safe, possiblities. I am blessed. We are busy and spend most of the day smiling. I remembered today that the times when I have been *whisper* "poor" in all of my life, I have had the most fun because I, or my mother has found need to be creative. I have learned the most, as a child, and taught the most, as a parent, during these times of joyful, eager experimentation and discovery.

May this summer continue to be one of the best, ever, for our family. May my precious children look back fondly, like I do of the summers of my youth.

I will never forget laying in bed, waiting for the sun to dip below the horizon, watching my dad and mom, out my window, working on the garden, pausing to reflect, my dad's arm around my mom's waist, their troubles seemingly light, their home happy.


photo by nativeagle on flickriver.com

Not So Different Mothers

It has been about four years, and still, when my children are gone, I find myself looking for them. Part of me aches, and wishes the feeling will pass. Most of me is glad I have that connection to my little ones, and hope I'll always feel that way.

I remember herding cattle with my ol' friend NM and her family, and occasionally the calves would get separated from their mothers. If I remember correctly, both cows and calves would call out to each other, the calves patiently waiting for the first sight of their mother, sometimes blocked behind a fence that needed moved by the rancher. After catching the glimpse of their returning mother, the calves would gallop across the field, and follow her wake.

I remember reading a story once of an otter who gave birth to a baby otter who had died. She held it, rubbed it, swam with it, whatever she could to revive it. She fought for her baby to live, even though it was too late.

As I returned home from the grocery store the other day, with Bear, Peach came crawling toward me as fast as she could, crying for me. I could not help but think of baby chicks in a nest peeping frantically, as their mother bird approaches, soon soothed by her presence.

I am not necessarily a "nature lover", or even an "animal lover", but I am a natural being, and I miss my babies every day I am separated from them. I wonder if my mother, whose children are adults, ever feels this way?



Happy er...Father's Day. Yes, I have no tact, or timing.

She Was Given to Me to Bring Me Joy

Sometimes I sit
and stare into her eyes,
I'm looking for something
that's hidden, impossible to find.

"You used to be so tiny.
You used to be my babe.
You still have years to go,
but look how you've already changed..."

She laughs an unaltered six year old laugh
and tells me I'm just so silly.
"I'm still your baby. Your big girl baby.
I just act much older than I am really."

What changed first?
Was it her hair? Her chubby cheeks?
Her round belly? Her padded feet?
It's been years, but it feels like weeks...

Since she was my baby.

She loves her shoes,
Her clothes, and fancy things.
She wants to wear makeup and jewelry,
updo's and skinny jeans.

I urge her to slow down.
"Enjoy being a child."
She agrees she will, but she longingly wishes,
that she could age faster, all the while.

I wish I could have bottled
all of her funny words and smiles.
But I still can look into her unchanged eyes,
and hear her perfect laughter...

my precious gift of a child.

Expressions of Love from a Lego Builder Extraordinaire

One of my favorite things about being a mother is sharing stories of my youth, and relating to my children. Often, I try to go beyond "no", and explain why. And when they don't get it, I explain being taught the same thing by Babbette (my mom), and Bear and Lambie nod their heads in sympathy.

Surprising to us, our lengthy, vacant flower bed (have I mentioned I don't like gardening?) near our front door, became the nesting ground for a perfect, single, red tulip. Lambie insists that she planted it for me, with an acorn. (Hazelnut) I assured her that Oak trees grow from acorns, and I didn't want to tell her it was actually a Hazelnut... The Captain assures me that he didn't think to plant it for me, although it would have been in his best interest to take credit. Bear just tries to not step on it, as it cranes for sunlight.

I caught Lambie, one afternoon, trying to peel back the petals, prematurely, which she got gently scolded for. Since a simple "It will harm the flower" didn't work, I told a brief story from my youth.


The humble flowerbeds of my youth contained bleeding hearts. My adventurous, exploratory sisters had discovered that when you pinch a not-yet-blooomed bleeding heart, it makes a delightful popping noise, and a single drop of water would fall out. My mom gently, but firmly explained that the flower needed that drop of water. It needed to remain sealed, until IT was ready to bloom. I told my kids that I would watch bleeding hearts, and it would take all of my control to not pinch and pop them open.

Over the years of having a boy who builds intricate designs and contraptions with Lego's, which is apparently his gift of Asperger's, I have been the recipient of small Lego gifts. When Bear was 5, after seeing the movie Wall-E, he made me a 1 inch tall Wall-E, with eyes that moved like Wall-E's. The next year I was given a small Mt Mazama that erupted into Crater Lake. For Mother's Day he begs to buy me Lego's, and everyone for any celebration, he feels should receive Lego's. The other day I was given a bleeding heart flower.

What I discovered, when I was handed this treasure, at 6am, was that all of these years, Bear has been giving me tokens of things I've expressed joy from. He has put his heart and soul into these creations, focusing on the detail much more than his regular creations. I realized that this is how my boy, who doesn't seek after affection, shares love. He was telling me he loved me by giving me flowers.

And as I pinched the bottom of this beautiful creation, it made a little pop, and a single drop of "water" fell out.






The greatest treasure was discovering that he was telling me he loves me.

Pinewood Derby - The Race Is On!

The race is on! 24 hours from right now, we will be heading to the church to get the car weighed and measured! Within 24 hours from now I need to make a block of wood look like a car... or whatever my 8 1/2 year old wants it to look like. You might suppose I'm a procrastinator, but I'm not. Yet, here I am...not saying how I truly feel about being the person to help Bear with his car. I was tempted to make him just race the block of wood with wheels on it... I'm still tempted.

My mantra as I chisel and file and chisel and file is: I am thankful my husband has a job, even if he's been working 14 hour days. I'm thankful I have a chisel and file that my husband swung by on his lunch break, and kitchen knife I don't plan on using again. I'm thankful I have a son. I am thankful for Cub Scouts. I am thankful I have always wanted to make a pinewood derby car. I am thankful my mom and dad taught me how to use tools.

The race is on.....

Can I Tell You About My Day?

The Captain is out of town for work, and I miss yammering on to him about my day. He went to bed early, and our conversation was only regarding what time the children went to bed, and our upcoming vacation. So, I'll tell you about my day instead.

The kids and I went to the Canyon to return outgrown baby goods to NM, where it was snowing, pick up my long lost patio set from Bear and Lambie's father's house (with his permission of course. What kind of girl do you take me for?), and visit my dear friend AMc, and her lovely gaggle of girls, E,R,S,and MG. And of course my friend SW and her little lady, C.

AMc lives on her little "farm". The thought of it intrigues The Captain because he's such a city boy. Whenever I go to AMc's home, in the booming metropolis (haha) of Scio, I think of City Mouse, Country Mouse... and then remind myself that neither of us turns our nose up at the other when we visit. Our visits are always so comfy.

I discovered today I get all of the benefits of a farm, without ANY work. (Sorry AMc!) Today I got to confront my fear and pet a goat. *faint* It was kind of anxiety inducing, but I did it, and it just stood there. I wanted to keep petting it, but I didn't want it to turn on me. I got to hold a baby chick, which was deeeevine. I got to pet a sheep. And I got four bags of Romney wool, because I (the City Mouse) am going to learn to spin wool! And I returned home with a dozen brown eggs, which should concern The Captain plenty.

The conversation was awesome, the friends were classic... Bear declared his love for R (to me, in secret) and his desire to outsmart her as they played and raced through the yard. And Lambie was so comfortable, as usual, blending in with the rest of the ladies wearing fairy wings and a flower circlet on her head. I love the opportunity to play and play hard, for my kids. I love that they get to see animals up close, so they are not tentative or afraid. I love that they don't mind getting dirty. I love that sometimes our socks get left there, or that we might come home wearing someone else's socks - it's that comfortable. ...I do mind that afterward I get a wee bit of chastisement that our back yard is smaller than AMc's deck... and that we don't have a tree to do our homework in, like E has... But it is always a good day. A wonderful day. And I always want to go back. I always feel welcome.

I hope my Country Mouse friend always does too, at my home. We live in different worlds, but the drive never seems long, and the visits are always warm.

Let Them Eat Dirt!

My mom tells me that her grandmother used to say that "babies need a pinch of dirt every day". For some time I have assumed this was said to excuse that lack of cleanliness... or rather to offer a nod to a baby's keen ability to find every speck of dirt in even the most sterile of environments. Granted, the thought of forgiving minimal dirt intake makes me panic less. I do still obviously stay in tune to the soon-to-be-consumed "dirt", speedily removing it from my baby's firm grasp, or prying open her vice-like jaws to fish out the foreign object.

Bear didn't really put articles in his mouth. Then again, he didn't need a bib past 10 months or so. He was all business, all the time. Peach has a preference for paper. Not a whole lot else either. Just paper of all varieties. And it is a very intense craving. And then there's Lambie. Lambie, if there was no dirt to be found, would peel, with her infant fingers, the wrappers off of crayons, eat them, then eat the crayon. She would also meticulously pull individual carpet (what do you call them?) fibers/yarns out and eat those. I was continuously on patrol with her. Sometimes I wasn't fast enough, but she never choked, she never got unusually sick, she never died.

Which I guess is the point.


There are actually articles online declaring that a little dirt, as a child, can make a child smarter, can help ward off illness, and can even help prevent diabetes. So what they are saying is, not only will a little dirt not hurt you, it might help you. And I wonder...is this a "glass of wine per day keeps you healthy" theory? Or, is dirt really, genuinely helpful?

I've decided that as my children have or have not eaten dirt, they have learned what is nasty, what makes them choke, what will hurt if you pull it down and it falls on you, what feels awful. After watching "Babies", the documentary, I have come to realize that we encourage a very sterile environment in our culture. Imagine what the babies throughout the world learn about their dirt... Do they learn the harm of dirt before our babies, or is it personality driven like my own babies?

After pondering letting a child eat dirt, recognizing that I would risk life and limb to save them from the dirt, if need be, I realized God lets us eat dirt. We make the choice, but we can't choose the consequence. God might let us just eat the dirt, knowing we won't die from it. Or he might wrestle it out of our firm grasp. (Standing back and watching, like he did with Job for a while. Poor Job.) The dirt may be hideous, or we may like it, and have to learn that it wasn't actually good for us in the first place.

Whatever the case is, I am smarter from eating a pinch of dirt every day. I know what dirt will kill me. I know what dirt I hate. I am learning to watch out when I'm eating a little dirt here and there without realizing it. And one day I will stop when I have learned enough.

As far as my children, I will relax, and let my children learn. I will let them eat a pinch of dirt from this world they are a part of, with guidance of course; standing close by in case I need to do a frantic finger sweep...

Our Other Worlds

Today is Friday. I might be the only person in the world that dreads Fridays. While (thankfully) it's not every weekend, it is the day I take Bear and Lambie to their dad's home.

Last night I was thinking about Bear and Lambie's step-brother Ben, who is Bear's age now. He is with his father one week, and his mother the next. I expressed to Bear that it must be strange having half of your belongings at one home, and half at another. And Bear said something that stunned me, but was obvious. He does too. I guess I had always felt like his dad's was kind of like a vacation home. But of course he needs his things, his definition. I'm glad he has that.

I also have a world outside of my children. I put up a new wallpaper (to go with the season), and Lambie asked where I found the beautiful picture. "I took it", I told her. She asked me when I did, and how I took such a good picture. "I'm a photographer, it's my job." And then I realized they are usually gone at school or their dad's when I schedule photo sessions. All they ever see me do is edit. They probably haven't seen me click my "work camera" in a very very long time.

All at once their world is getting bigger, and they are beginning to learn that my universe is different than theirs. I know they'll be amazing, but every time they leave my universe, on those dreaded Fridays (although I know in my head that they need a relationship with their dad), my heart breaks a little. And I ache. But then Sunday comes, and my world is put back together.