Gosh, Jennie and i are the worst lately.  Luckily when we do write a post for you…it’s so amazingly intelligent and entertaining that they fill you up with enough glee to hold you over between the lengthy waiting times.

I’ve just felt so…busy.  We have soooo much going on in our life right now.  Silas’ therapy is booming and we just keep having to add more.  He’s still happy though and enjoying every moment of it.

Plus my husband and I seem to be getting a lot more social with friends these days.  Actually having real couple friends who like…wanna hang out.  Odd.

Life life life.

Silas is just…exploding.  It’s like he’s been in an egg this whole time.  Little cracks have been appearing in the egg and light shines out.  More and more and more appear and get bigger and wider and longer and more light is shining out.  I guess he’s…bursting out of his shell…so to speak.

Two days in a row he did something to made someone sad, stopped to think about it and then corrected himself.  He’s feeling empathy.  His sentences are getting longer, more expressive and more complex.

Ikey is staying the same stinker he’s always been.  Unfortunately staying a bit too much.  He’s almost 3 and we still dunno what he’s saying when he talks.  When it is clear…it’s great language.  He just talks like there’s marbles in his mouth.  In a way it’s nice because he still seems like a baby

Cleo…well…she’s still fitting in just fine.  She’s taken up permanent residence on our couch and finds the need to be near me at most points of her day.  there’s many moments where I’m peeing and I have Silas, Ikey AND the dog in there with me.  No peace for me I suppose.  Right now she’s curled up behind me on the couch.  Happy to be touching her mommy.  I’ve never had a dog who adored me so much.  She’s so lovely.  Our home feels so complete now that she’s in it….even though her hair is, well, everywhere.

Life is….stable…enough…

So there’s your update…I even did it on a day that i wasn’t supposed to blog.  That’s love

Depression begets apathy, apathy begets depression.  The cycle of my life.  It is with me even in my dreams.  It’s roots have grown so deep into me, intertwined into my inmost being that it feels almost impossible to break free from it.

The smallest amount of stress cripples me.  Company coming, children screaming, having someone in my home, being in someone else’s home.  All I want in the couch, all I can focus on is one tiny thing at a time.  I feel immobilized.

It feels like it’s stopping me from feeling what’s it’s really like to be human.

I feel cheated.

The absurd part is that I am, well I feel that I am, incredibly intelligent.  I know exactly what it takes to get rid of it.

It’s a mental block, it all is.  I’m so tired of it.  I’m tired of feeling complacent, I’m tired of feeling like stepping into my kitchen to put a few dishes away is a mountain to climb.  I’m tired of feeling looked down upon, judged, etc.  I just wanna be the Leah I was born to be.  Not the Leah I’ve been beaten down into.  Sometimes literally, sometimes emotionally, sometimes from circumstance.

Sometimes I get a glimpse of happy, of normalcy.  Like this morning I woke up…wow…happy.  The hard thing with that is that the higher you are emotionally…the harder you crash when your day goes wrong.

I crashed

Sometimes I feel like there’s someone above me…watching, gauging the level of happy I’m at and then once I’ve peaked they throw daggers at me…put me in my place.

But really, am I not just making excuses for myself?  Isn’t this just a mental block?  Well I’ve purchased a bunch of books about getting past the mental block, training your mind…etc.  So here’s hoping.

Does anyone else get annoyed when the figure skaters stockings are like way the wrong colour for their skin?

posted by Leah.

How is it that I always have so many blogging ideas when I’m NOT blogging????

Okay so you know now in BC it’s illegal for anyone to use a handheld device in the car…aka no cellphones.  No touching your cellphone no looking at your cellphone.  NOTHING.

So I went and purchased myself one of those dorky blue tooths (in pink) so I would still be able to make important phone calls whilst driving.

**Side note.  It’s not cool to wear your bluetooth around with you…seriously uncool.  Don’t do it, and if you are…stop it.  Dork.

Anyway, my driving track record is seamless.  I am a good driver.  I’ve had one instance of poor driving in my life and I was merging and checking my blind spot when the guy in front of me abruptly stopped and…I was still blind spotting.  Luckily no damage done to his massive truck…and my new bumper was…well…good and damaged.

So here I am driving back from preschool last week.  I have this bluetooth in my ear.  You have to have conversations with these dumb things.  This is how mine went.

BT – please say a command

Me – call Brent

BT – did you say call Jennie?

Me – no

BT – did you say call home?

Me – no

BT – phone number not available…please try again.

then I press the button again

BT – beep beep

press it again…

BT- beep

turn it off and on then press button

BT – beep

press

BR – beep beep

I give up…so now I’m furious at this dumb thing.  I can’t call my husband and i want to and I’m driving along and notice someone’s making a left hand turn rather close to me…and then the next guy is making his left hand turn RIGHT in front of me.  I BLAST my horn and look up to realize it’s me making the mistake as I slam on my brakes and come to a screeching halt.

The left hand turner looks at me….smoke billows up from my tires.  I sheepishly put my car in reverse and backup to the stop line…saying sorry over and over and over again.  He makes his turn.

I drive home cursing myself, heart racing.  How could I not see a red light?? Oh, I know why!!  I was blinded by FURY because this supposedly SAFE hands free device is a piece of crap!!  That’s why!!

The world would would be safer if they just let me talk and text while driving, seriously.

Posted by Leah.

I finally got my act together and got Silas in to see a DAN doctor.  DAN stands for defeat autism now.  They’re a group of doctors who use alternative medicine to help relieve the symptoms of autism.  Sometimes these methods work so well that you can’t even tell the child has autism anymore and sometimes they don’t work at all.  In my mind, you just gotta try.

So off we went to the DAN, excited to see what he had to say.  He was very very nice.  He wanted to try the exact same things I wanted to try first.  Mb12 shots and hyperbaric chamber treatments.  Woot.  So he showed us how to give Silas an injection and he sent us home.

Wow, is it ever hard to give your child an injection…without it hurting…without it traumatizing yourself.  I haven’t been able to make it not hurt, despite the dr saying that it shouldn’t hurt.  Despite following all directions to a T.  We’ll try again while he sleeps tonight, hopefully I’ll get it right this time.  Yikes.

I’ve seen changes in my wee little lad though, positive ones.  Ones that show that these shots are indeed working so we must continue giving them to him. Yaaaay.  And…yikes.

His pretend play has gotten WAY better since starting treatment.  He’s spending way more time in his imagination, where he should be at this age!!  His language is also getting better.  I can see him thinking about his sentences more, focusing on trying to get out what he really wants to say instead of just giving me a sentence that could be interpreted any way.  It’s cool.

Yesterday Silas’ teacher told me he was starting to get ahead of some of his classmates, speech wise

I’ve also been taking the shots, I can feel the difference about 30 minutes after I take it.  I just feel….goood.  I like it.  Yummy.

Anyway, I’m rather sick….I’m rather sleepy as well.  I’m going to spoon my doggy and watch Dr. Oz.

I could have sworn I’ve blogged about this before…but I guess I haven’t.

I was on a mission to get a tattoo on my inner right arm that would remind me of Silas, his autism and the fight for it.  Googling autism tattoos wasn’t effective.  I didn’t like any of them.  I don’t like multi-coloured puzzle pieces…they just weren’t pretty.  Not me, at all.

So I move along in my quest and finally decided to figure out what Silas’ birth flower was.  A Chrysanthemum.  The meaning written stood out:” The bright butter yellow glow of the chrysanthemum brings joy, light, and cheer to the dwindling days of November. Chosen because of the cheer and joy November birthdays bring throughout the year, the chrysanthemum’s color and perseverance are a beacon of happiness.” (http://www.flower-choice.com/birthflowers.asp)

Beacon of happiness.  That’s so Silas.  He lights up a room when he walks in…he’s everything…yellow.

I looked up chrysanthemum tattoos and decided I hated them.  They’re popular in Japanese tattooing and again…not my style.  While searching for tattoo ideas I happened upon this site.  I love love love the meanings I read there.  Things like “As an herb, it was believed to have the power of life.”  or “”If you would be happy for a lifetime, grow Chrysanthemums,” says one ancient Chinese philosopher.”  I also read somewhere that they unfold in a really specific way to reveal a very perfect looking blossom.  We’re unfolding Silas in a very specific and organized way.

Perfect.

Now how do I get a chrysanthemum tattoo that I like?  I searched high and low and finally found it.  Last Saturday I got it.

I added the puzzle piece to symbolize the autism.  The artist did a very good job.  He knew it was a special tattoo to me and he took great care in making it nice.

I know not all my readers agree with tattoos or think they’re appropriate but I see it very differently.  When I see a well done tattoo on a woman I think it’s completely beautiful.  I actually think the good ones look classy and…believe it or not…sexy.  I love them on men too.  I just absolutely love them.  Not to be rebellious, but just think they are beautiful and that’s all.  They’re like a piece of a certain era of your life, something to remember, something to inspire you daily, something that’s beautiful. Tattoos have come a long way.  Once a symbol of rebellion, now a symbol of beauty, individuality, expression, sexuality,  religion, etc.  The tattoo is something much much more.  In America at least.  There are many cultures that have them as just a part of their culture and it’s been that way for hundreds of years.

So, I love my new tattoo.  It’s so special to me.  It’s Silas on my arm, reminding me all the time that there’s so much beauty in my son.  My son who scratched the skin off my mouth today, pulled my hair and hit me numerous times.  There’s a reason I’m fighting for him.  He is light, he is sunshine, he is perfection…he’s just in a world that doesn’t understand him and he doesn’t fully understand.  But we’re helping him unfold.

Posted by Jennie C.

My big, little brother bought Girl vs11¹ a most wondrous gift at Christmas:  Sea-Monkeys!!!!  SO VERY VERY VERY EXCITING.  OK, I was definitely more enthusiastic about them than she was; I’m not even sure if she knew what they were.  But “Raising Sea-Monkeys” has been on my bucket list² since I was around 12 years old.  I’d forgotten it was on my bucket list until I saw those magical two words printed brightly on the energetically decorated box in Girl vs11’s hands.  I trembled.

For those of you who aren’t in the know, Sea-Monkeys “are a variant of brine shrimp or Artemia salina, a species which enters cryptobiosis, a natural state of suspended animation, allowing their cysts (dormant saclike embryos) to be sold as a dry powder. When the powder is poured into water, live shrimp appear within hours, and can grow up to an adult length of 2 centimeters within one year.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sea-Monkeys – Retrieved 2010-01-28)  Talk about rabbit trails, I just spent 20 minutes trying to figure out how to properly credit Wikipidia for this quote and got sidetracked learning about the Common Chiffchaff and really didn’t actually figure out the proper referencing technique, but I’m sure you get the idea…

Sea-Monkey advertisements were prominent in the Archie comics of my childhood.  Archie comics were prominent in my childhood because of the phenomenon known by the locals as “the dump”.  I’m not sure I’m going to have time to even tell you about “the dump” – but it’s a good bit of childhood history and will certainly be featured on this blog at some point.

Following the Christmas holidays, Girl vs11 and I carefully filled the tank with purified water, added the contents of packet #1, waited two days, added the contents of packet #2, and then watched and waited and watched and waited.  I carefully supervised every step and we followed the instructions precisely and perfectly and indisputably right, because I had to make these li’l creatures live; I wanted to witness instant life; I needed all my dreams to come true!

Sea-Monkeys in their Magic Castle

We chose the dining room table as the optimal place for our new friends to live.  It had the right combination of light and temperature.  It was a visible enough location that they wouldn’t be neglected.  Plus I was visualizing that their lively antics would distract the kiddos from the heaps of broccoli on their plates.

The wait was agonizing; the calendar was consulted several times a day; the anticipated moment finally arrived.

“There’s something moving!” I screamed!

“Uh, Mom, inside voice?” reminded Girl vs11.  (The veracity of this story may be beginning to suffer – I’ve been interrupted about 47 times and I’m losing patience with historical accuracy.)

We all took turns squinting at the two or three animated specks, willing them to breathe, eat, and grow.  I begged Girl vs11 to let me have one.  She wondered how I was going to tell it apart from the others.

“Oh, I’ll be able to recognize Squishy,” I assured and pleaded.

She reluctantly (and somewhat suspiciously) agreed.  I authoritatively pointed out Squishy whenever we were admiring the growing colony.  She nodded indulgently.

And then they all died.

I was devastated.  But I’m a Mum after all … and an adult … and apparently somewhat mature.  Which means I must appear stoic when the grim reaper of the brine shrimp world comes calling.  I’d also done my research and I encouraged Girl vs 11 to have faith.  More could hatch.

And they did!  And I didn’t even scream the second time around; I used my inside voice.

The colony is now flourishing!  And I’ve convinced Girl vs11 that Squishy actually survived from the first batch and that’s why he’s the biggest one in there and she believed me and I still have MY VERY OWN Sea-Monkey!

The photo to the right is the tank in it’s entirety.  Isn’t it wonderful?  Did you notice the turrets?

The photo below is a close up.  Squishy is the big one, of course.  Isn’t he sweet?

Squishy and His Friends

Three cheers for a shrinking bucket list!  Thank you Uncle Andy!

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¹ If you recall, Girl vs11 is the privacy induced code name for my 11 year old daughter.  I didn’t recall and had to look it up on the Jennie page.

² A “bucket list” is a list of things that one wants to do in life before they “kick the bucket”.  I have to explain these things because my ancient old Grandparents are probably the only people that read this blog and I’m never too sure if they’re up-to-date with the modern things we hip youngsters say.  I like to be considerate that way.