Christmas 09

Dear Connor and Tristan,
Tristan, one night before Christmas Daddy came into the living room and spotted you in front of the Christmas tree with your hands clasped and head bowed, praying to Santa for a Go, Diego Go Field Journal. Your prayer consisted of you saying the words Field Journal over and over. I came in on the tail end of the prayer but just in the few seconds I saw what the magic of believing was all about. And believe me when I say I would have gotten on an airplane to find one for you if that's what it took. Luckily, Santa has internet access so it wasn't so difficult. I guess between the story of Jesus from preschool, the pump up about Santa from Mommy and Daddy and the large lighted evergreen in the living room it could be confusing if you were three.

Connor, you remained obsessive about the Christmas candy phonomena for the entire month of December. You were quite adament when you saw Santa that you should receive chocolate coins in your stocking and that candy canes should be hung on the tree. You also requested a real working camera. You did get your coins and the canes on the tree and shortly lost interest after you found them. I mean, when you have a camera where you can take pictures of the cat's butt and Mommy half asleep first thing in the morning who needs a bunch of chocolate coins?

We made a gingerbread house and put reindeer bait on the lawn so Santa's sleigh could find our house. We put out cookies for Santa, but somehow I felt like you still weren't convinced. When ever we talked about Santa you gave me a skeptical sort of look, but by Christmas morning, you were Santa's biggest fan. You might let some body talk smack about your Mommy, but I'd be willing to bet that if someone said a cross word about Santa you'd be all over it. I mean, how cool is a man that puts a reindeer that poops jellybeans in your stocking? It's like he's known you all of your life!

I can not say the fighting over toys was minimal but I can say that after we got back from Nana and PaPaw's that the Christmas spirit had washed over you and your brother and you wanted to have a sleep over in your new sleeping bags together. We ended up having to split you both up and when you both cried over it, it made my heart swell with love. "Look, Honey! They LOVE each other! It's a Christmas Miracle!"

Merry Christmas Babies,
Mama

Happy Birthday to ME!

I used to take my birthday off of work every year. It didn't take me long to figure out that it's not your birthday that you take off... it's the day after it. I usually ended up, sleeping half the day and bumming around the house until everyone got off work and started calling and then everyone else came over and we started drinking. Then I'd roll into work the next day hung over and miserable. Those days are behind me now and I didn't even miss the late night partying this year. This year, Tristan toddled into my room and when I said, "Do you know what today is?" He responded, "Happy Birfday Mommy". I tried to use my birthday as an extra special reason for the boys to behave. I don't remember how many times I tried, "Don't make me yell at you on my birthday!", but it didn't work after the first time.

It was a busy day for me, dropping the kids off at school, a shopping trip to Ikea with Mommy playgroup, then a rush to pick up the kids from school and straight to gymnastics, home to clean up the house, dinner and then off to a cookie exchage. Sounds domestic doesn't it? It was domestic... at 180 miles per hour.
Here's to being another year wiser.

The Lazy Cook

I've always wanted to learn how to can. The problem is, I just didn't feel like that was something that I might be able to learn from a book, like everything else I've ever learned. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's the whole botulism thing that makes me a little bit nervous.
In September, Lena taught me a thing or two about canning and together we put up 80-something jars of strawberry jam for her wedding. Since then I've been experimenting. I've made Apple Butter, Apple Jelly, Low Sugar Apple Jelly (this is a little bit cloudy due to my impatience with juice making and squeezing the ba-jesus out of the jelly bag to make the juice strain faster), Strawberry Jam, Apple Pie Jam (this is Jorma's favorite) and today I finished up my canning for the season with pepper jelly. I was going to give out the Pepper Jelly as presents but it didn't make that much and it kicks ass so I'm hoarding it for pot lucks and parties. If you come to the house during the Christmas season or invite us to something that requires us to bring a dish, prepare for pepper jelly.
I did something different with my pepper jelly batch. Something that crazy! Something scandalous! Instead of boiling them with the heat seal method I used the invertion method. That's where instead of boiling them in a canner for 15 minutes you ladle the hot jelly into hot jars and flip them upside down. And they seal. I was prepared to keep them all in the fridge. I was sure it wasn't going to work... but it did. Those sonofabitches sealed right up. Now I know this isn't the recommended method for canning, but I figured, if I'm going to use this method with anything, pepper jelly is my best bet. I mean it's fresh jalapeno peppers, vinegar and sugar. Can bacteria even live in that? I think it's safe. I love canning the lazy way.

Love Child - Windows 7

So far I've been using Windows 7 for less than 24 hours. It's as though iGoogle and OS X had a child. I haven't even had time to really go through of all of the tweaking and I'm finding it more difficult than I thought I would to get it set up the way I want it. I think when you boot it for the first time, it should have a big button that says, "Old School" and you click it so that it reverts to the previous OS at least long enough for you to get it set up the way you want it. Everytime I go to tweak something it takes me more than 10 seconds to find it and that's just unacceptable.
There are some features that really rock though, like the view desktop mouse over on the lower right and the minmizing IE icon that shows the pages that you went to last. We had a hell of a time getting it online with the wireless for some reason that Jorma explained to me while I smiled and nodded and pretended to understand what in the hell he was talking about. I know it had the words Mac Address and router it in and other than that I just sort of looked interested while I tried to figure out if I should put the pepper jelly I'm making tomorrow in half pint or 4 ounce jars.
So far though I haven't installed anything on it. I have to get it set up with some software, (arr matey) that might get tricky so I'm waiting on that outcome before I start loving it.

Dear Connor - 5 Years, 1 Month

Dear Connor,

I must say that you are a trooper with the supplementation ritual that we have you on. I got you and brother to take fish oil without complaint by following it with a spoonful of Hershey's Syrup. I'm sure the high frutose corn syrup isn't the best thing for your system, but it allows me to lure you into thinking that you want to take the fish oil.

You have been taking gymnastics classes, something that you are really into. They spend as much time chasing you back from the other side of the gym as they do teaching you how to tumble. I'll be glad when we get your focus a little stronger so that you can focus long enough to really learn something in your class, but one thing is for sure, all of that heavy work we do with you really pays off. You are strong as an ox. You are good at bouncing too. It makes me want a trampoline in the backyard, but I know if we had one here, you'd be over it pretty quickly.

You've lost your first tooth. It got really loose, really quick. That's because you were obsessed with it. We offered to tie a string to the tooth, tie the other end to the cat and then let your brother loose, but you didn't want to take us up on it.

Actually, you pulled it out yourself. You walked over to me and said, "Look Mommy it's really lose, and flipped it over backwards with your tongue". I knew that we should go ahead and pull it, but knew you'd be freaked out and I didn't like the idea of holding you down to pull your tooth. As I was debating on how your Dad and I were going sell you the idea that it would be fun and painless to remove part of your body, you got a look of intense concentration as you twisted the loose tooth. And then it was in between your fingers which is something you barely even noticed since you were suddenly enthralled by the hole it made in the row of your bottom teeth.

Congratulations! You are really a big kid now.
I love you,

Mama

Dear Tristan - 3 Years, 2 Months

Dear Tristan,
We kept talking about moving the chair that you love to sleep in. And we kept putting it off. This is mostly because we love sleep. You see, each morning you would get up from your bed at 6am, mutter to yourself for a few minutes and then get into your chair and sleep until precisely 7:15am. It's that extra hour and fifteen minutes that I didn't want to lose. I figured we've move the chair and you'd wake at 3am and start crying because it wasn't in your room then fall back asleep then wake again at 6am and not be able to go back to sleep. I pictured this happening until you were at least 16 or so.


But finally, one night before bed, I broke down the chair and moved it to the hallway. You came out of the bathroom from brushing your teeth and a look of horror crossed your face when you saw your chair in the hall. I explained that we were moving the chair downstairs and that it was still your chair, but you'd have to sit in it downstairs instead. Then Daddy came and whisked it away to the living room. You went and sat in the corner where your chair had been and started trying to stir up a tantrum, but then were quickly distracted by the lure of having a book read to you.

You went to sleep in your bed and you woke up at 7:15am. You did not seem to care a single bit that your chair was gone. All that ado for nothing. A few times later that week, I came into your room to find you sleeping on the floor in front of the door. That didn't last long though. You're smart so it didn't take long for you to determine that sleeping on the floor well... it sucks. Especially when you have a nice comfy big boy bed to sleep in. Lesson to myself: it's never as big of a deal as I make it out to bed. Thanks for teaching me that buddy.
I love you,
Mommy

Cartoon Us

My Southpark Family.

SPD Charlotte November Meeting

We had our third SPD Support Meeting last night with a behavorial therapist and an occupational therapist. They fielded our questions on "what to do when" and gave us some great advice. It was a relief to hear that other parents had some of the same questions we did and there are some things, at least, that we are already doing right.
I love my group.

Wee Yeasties!

I'm reading a fantastic book right now, Special Needs Kids Eat Right. I was putting off reading it because I thought that surely it was going to be 300 pages on how my kids needs to eat more veggies. It's not. I'm not sure if you've kept up with the news, or if you even care, but there are a ton of parents out there that are recovering their children from Autism. This book details this process they are using. This soon will be the process that we are using to try to help Connor. I have hope in Fish Oil, but since he has all of the symptoms of Candida yeast overgrowth... what if it's that? It is possible that he has too much yeast in his body, from Colic as a baby which caused Leaky Gut Syndrome which was exacerbated by antibiotic usage, (heavy antibiotic usage from ear infections) causing a cycle of complete yeast overgrowth.

Connor eats plenty of veggies and even takes fish oil without complaint. Tristan on the other hand exists primarily on carbs, specifically crackers, chips and cereals. Tristan actually randomly breaks out in yeast infections. Behind the ears, on his mouth. His last one appeared right after Halloween. There's the sugar link. What I'm saying is this. It is entirely possible that both of my children are so yeasty that it's affecting their health. In Connor's case it could be affecting his focus, attention and memory.

Ok, so you are on board with this, now what do you do?
You find a peditrician to prescribe an anti fungal like Diflucan or something. If you listen closely here, you can hear peditricians hysterically laughing at this. Because you'll probably never find one that will prescribe this, unless you can land a DAN doctor somewhere in the area. What then? You starve the yeast while supplementing with probiotics. Starve the yeast... that sounds easy, right? Sure. If you don't mind going gluten free, malt and vinegar free and sugar free. For me that would be hard. For Connor, it would be so incredibily difficult. Or would it? Is is worth not eating a cupcake for three months to be able to focus again? To not be shuned by other children and to be able to make friends? If you ask him now, he'd say no. Ask him twenty years from now and he'd probably have a different answer.
Are we going to try it? I think so. Maybe first of the year. In the meantime I'm going to start weaning him off of the gluten. Study up on what I need to do, get the hang of administering probiotics and maybe get a small bank loan since it's crazy expensive to eat gluten free. Is this crazy? Sound off for me here people. All lurkers are welcome to comment.

Connor's Mommy and the Very Bad Day

We had a rough day yesterday, including a birthday party at one of those small kids’ Gyms, where Connor, who was the only kid that was unable to sit still in line and wait his turn, was reprimanded every 15 minutes. The worst incident was when they had the kids in a circle around two large tumbling tunnels. The tunnels were stacked one on top of the other with a cone on top. The children were supposed to throw their balls at the cone which was about 7 feet off of the ground. The coach gave the kids their balls and asked that they wait to throw them. Connor threw his immediately. She waited for me to get his ball back to him and he threw it again. Then, he ran over and crashed into the tower toppling it over.
I was absolutely humiliated. I pulled him out of the party took him into the lobby and had him sit for five minutes to calm down. I talked to him about it. I threatened. He promised. Then I brought him back into the party, where he continued to ride the edge of the, Mommy will take me home if I don’t behave threshold.
To add insult to injury, one of the other Mom’s came over and told me that her neighbor’s kid has ADHD and that they make him stand with his arms out for 5 minutes to punish him and that it really works. Then she continued to launch into a stream of unsolicited advice about how I should be disciplining Connor. She didn’t SAY that’s what I should be doing… but coming over and just randomly explaining to me the types of discipline that works with her children. I was so completely shocked by this that I couldn’t even respond. All I can think about is how I can’t even explain to her how much we DO for Connor to keep him disciplined. That we have a detailed chart system, he earns chips and uses them to buy things that he wants. We have a bedtime clock so that when we take minutes off of bedtime he can see what his bedtime clock says, by matching up the hands next to the mantel clock it sits next too. That I’m constantly experimenting with different supplements and methods to try to help him. That we chart each thing that goes into his mouth, eliminate food dyes and do crazy therapy with him several times a day. That I probably read more in a week on how to help my kid than she reads in three months. I want to explain all of this to her, but I can’t, because I’m afraid that if I open my mouth, something else might come out. Something that’s not appropriate at a child’s birthday party. So instead I just get up and walk away. That’s what Gandhi would do, right?
I cried the entire way home and then three other times on the phone with random people. It was an awful day. It’s hard enough for Connor who honestly can NOT control himself. It’s not a matter of him not knowing what to do. He has no impulse control. Should I have taken him home? I’m so unbelievable sick of blame. Why does it have to be the parents fault all the time? Why can’t people get that my kid can’t control himself BECAUSE SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH HIS BRAIN?! Maybe I’ve been going about this all wrong. Maybe instead of doing all of this crazy shit, I should just take away his teddy bear. That ought to do it.
Does no one understand compassion anymore?

We Feel Fine

Remember the book that Tristan is going to appear in? It's coming out in December. You can preorder on Amazon.com or you can pick it up at Barnes and Noble next month. Or you could go pick it up at Barnes and Noble and walk around showing everyone in the place your kids picture inside of it. Yeah, I know... I probably have better things to do with my time, right? Not really. Here's more info on the book.
There was a nifty little applet in this entry, but it seems to have vanished so here's a link to the Amazon page if you want to view the cover.

Experiment # 117: Fish Oil

I posted info on the Oxford Study that I found on ADHD, Dyspraxia and Dyslexia and Fish Oil, but since I’ve found a study from Australia and found references to Omega-3s for Dyspraxia in a book I’m reading called, Special Needs Kids Eat Right. It didn’t make sense to me that so many children would have that much of an Omega-3 deficiency. I mean what about people from cultures that just don’t eat fish. Or people that just don’t like fish. Like me. I would think that the numbers of these disorders would be higher and there would be some apparent link… it must be something else. But then I read that they think that these kids actually have a problem metabolizing the Fatty Acids found in fish oils. Thus the deficiency. OK that, made total sense to me. That I could get behind. It clicked. It only helps 50% of the kids they studied, (in all of the studies I found), but if your kid is in that 50 percentile… your golden right? Results sometimes appear as soon as 2 weeks, but it can take 3 months for the full effects to be seen. I’ll give it four months. Either it works, or we end up with the smartest kids on the planet from all of the Omegas. At least then if Connor is bouncing off the walls, I can turn to the other Moms at the birthday party and say, “He’s a genius, you know.” Oh wait, I say that already.

I’ve found a Pharmaceutical Grade Fish Oil, that’s for grownups. It’s high in EPA and DHA. We are supplementing with Evening Primrose Oil which is a powerful source of GLA and are adding in some ProBiotic action to keep the intestinal flora healthy. The good thing about the liquid supplement is that it’s easy to split the dose into a child portion. It boasts to be the best tasting fish oil on the market. Connor will eat anything, but today he told me that he didn’t like it because it didn’t taste good. Looks like it might be time to add some Chocolate Syrup to the cocktail.

So far we are on day 3. Only 117 more days to go. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you posted. And by the time it’s over you’ll know more about the effects of fish oil than you’ve ever cared to.

Stick Figure Families

No no no. I'm not putting this on my minivan. As I've already mentioned there is nothing you can do to a minivan to make it look cute, trendy or cool. It's a minivan. But you drop the back row in that bee-atch and there's lots of practical to it. I like having a truck with a roof on the top. Even if it's kind of uncool and nothing like a truck. Ok, there I go barrelling off subject...
These images are everywhere. They seem to be a replacement for the Calvin and Hobbs peeing stickers that were so popular a few years ago. Remember those? I think the stick figure familes are cute, (although I wouldn't put one on my car) and I'm not quite sure why so many people have the hate on for them. I mean really, if you are wanting to hate on something, I think there's probably some Genocide somewhere in the world that you could take action to prevent. People waste their energy on stupid stuff... (like blog entries?). I know, there I go getting off track again. Maybe I need to be takin' some fish oil.
I created these for my Word Doc header for family letters. I've been typing instead of writing letters to family that doesn't have access to email (Grandparents and such) and these give them a little bit more of a personal touch. I'm so used to typing now that if I sit down to write a long letter my hand starts cramping. Oh stop. Don't even act like that doesn't happen to you.
So here's my stick family. Do you like how my stick person is about 40 lbs lighter than me? She's my fantasy self. The one that never goes to the gym and eats 5 cupcakes for breakfast every morning. Maybe she irons too...

Apple Picking

Recently we went up to the Foothills to procure some apples for my holiday jam (making) session. They had dwarf trees which were perfect for the kids to pick from without any help.

Connor found the best way to pick them was to get a boost from Daddy's shoulders and reach the ones on the tree tops.

Note the running three year old in the background. This place is like a dogpark for kids.

For some reason neither of the kids would eat the apples fresh off of the trees. Jorma and I didn't have any problem with it, but the boys were more into climbing the trees (Connor) or picking the apples and seeing how far they could be thrown baseball style (Tristan).

Too bad the great apple trip turned into the great apple famine (allergy testing). Not to worry about Connor though. When we are done with his three weeks of testing, he'll get apple everything, sauce, jam and maybe even one of the pies I made and froze for later.

Dyslexia, Dyspraxia and ADHD - Can Nutrition Help?

I am constantly on the lookout for new information on ADHD, SPD, ADD and Dyspraxia. So far Connor has SPD and Dyspraxia (which is a form of SPD) but I know that in two years when Connor is in first grade the teachers are going to start in on us about medicating him. He's a difficult kid. But I'm not concerned nearly as much about how it inconveniences his teachers as I am about what an inconvenience it is for him. I am hell bent and determined, that by the time he gets to first grade, we have this thing licked or rather - managed. We've been working really hard to practice his letters each night and tomorrow we are starting gymnastics to help with the postural issues. Attention focusing is still difficult. We aren't eating apples for allergy testing and are using a Homeopathic A+ Attention remedy that seems to not be working at all. Tonight when I was researching, (I should totally have a PhD in Google Research) I found this study. This study focuses on deficiencies of highly unsaturated fatty acids (HUFA) in children with various conditions including, Dyspraxia, ADHD and Dyslexia. I've added it to my collection.
I think that the rise of disorders like ADHD, Dyslexia and Dyspraxia is more than about a population increase. Especially ADHD, which has risen so high that we must be looking at an environmental factor or a dominate gene. So, if you know someone that has or has children with any of these conditions it might be worth sending them this study. I'll be sure to post any results from any experimentation we undergo.

Oh Craigslist Chair... The Final Saga

Before

After

Oh Craiglist Chair. How I thought you would be such a bargain before I spent almost $100.00 on fabric, batting, padding, stuff to refinish the legs, a new staple gun, cording, buttons and trim. Oh how I thought it would be so easy to recover you and but now know that it's something that I will never. ever. do again. But, my! Don't you look sweet in my bedroom? And now husband doesn't have to sit on the bed in the mornings to put his shoes on. I am so glad I am finished with you.

Happy Halloween

We didn’t get a lot of good pictures this year. There were some problems standing still and then there was some sort of funk on the camera lens for the few that we did get of the boys together… imagine that.

Tristan didn’t want to wear his Spiderman mask, but carried it around balled tightly in his fist all night. He wouldn’t let go of it because he knew it went with his costume and he didn’t want to lose it. Luckily, we missed the rain. Jorma took the boys out prepared for a downpour but before they left the neighbors house the rain stopped. We always say that Tristan runs between the rain drops.

The boys made out like bandits. We let them eat freely while they played in the cul-de-sac with the neighbors children and then brought them in and let them pick three pieces of candy to eat and then put the rest away. Tomorrow night the Halloween Witch will come to the house. The boys will choose 10 pieces of candy each and then they will leave the rest for her. She will leave them each a toy in exchange for the candy. They like the Halloween Witch. And so do the people at Jorma’s work.

Who Wants a Cupcake?

Last year the Pre-K class at Connor's school had a spider cake that was filled with green pudding so when you cut into it, it oozed. At some point I thought that I would make a pumpkin filled with orange pudding so that the class would have an ooze factor.


Then I lost my mind and thought that making individual cupcakes would be easier.

Luckily Lena was coming by to get her apples so I suckered her into helping me. She is much better at cupcake decoration than me.

But between the two of us, we got em done.

Dear Connor - 5 Years

Dear Connor,
It’s hard to believe that you are already five years old. To me, five marks the end of the little kid years and the herald of the big boy age. I’m lucky you still fit in my lap. Your attention span is (very) slowly but surely coming online. You are now asking to play games like Candyland and are able to sit down for short periods of time and do puzzles.

I feel like this might be an appropriate place to discuss your contraptions. You love a roll of string and tape. You like to piece things together with tape. It doesn’t matter if it’s fabric, string or old leaves. You like to build things that go high and span great distances. Last month, I walked into the kitchen to find that you had gotten a hold of some string and a roll of tape. You had the entire kitchen taped up and laced with a web that wouldn’t allow me to get to the sick. Unfortunately you are still easily frustrated and led to tantrums so when your brother went running through it like he was playing Red Rover, you went ballistic.

We’ve taken you out of your therapy for the time being, because it’s crazy expensive and because I feel like we can do some of the same things at home to help you. It means we’ll have to work a little bit harder at home, but it frees up some cash for you to do other things like take gymnastics and frees me up to do things on Thursday afternoons like write a blog entry. Last month, we went to the allergist, had a school field trip where you got to pick out a pumpkin and feed a goat, went apple picking in the mountains and actually got to play in the backyard sans mosquitoes, which are the NC state bird. On our trip to the allergist we found out that you are allergic to trees, grasses and weeds. Luckily (for Pippin) you aren’t allergic to cats. You had mild allergies to just about every food except beef and cantaloupe but the allergist said there wasn’t much to worry about.

While we are taking this break from your therapy we are going to embark on a major mission of discovery, elimination testing… your Dad and I are constantly trying to find methods that will help you focus and make you more comfortable in your own skin. Recently there have been several studies done on allergies and their trigger on behavior. We have decided that we are going to start eliminating items from your diet to see if there is a difference in your ability to sit still and focus. First we are going to try apples. Apples are easy enough to eliminate from your diet and after the experience that we had at the apple orchard, where you suddenly felt sick and couldn’t get away from there fast enough, we thought it was worth a try. This method is known as the Feingold diet. We’ll try anything short of shock therapy to help you, so why the hell not. I mean, who can’t live without apples for three weeks? From there we’ll eliminate all artificial flavors and preservatives which may be a slight annoyance to friends, family and the preschool but I just have to know. I mean, what if it’s some random preservative that’s causing you to lose control of yourself? If I waited until you were 12 to try it, I’d be so upset with myself for waiting so long. As your Great Grandfather said to me once, “It can’t hurt and it might help”. Nobody really needs to be eating that crap anyway, right?

This Halloween you are going to be Danny Phantom. Oh, how I cannot wait for the day that I can just go to a store and buy your costume. Every time you tell someone that you are going to be Danny Phantom for Halloween, they say, “Who?” which is why you ended up with a homemade costume again this year. Today you had your party at the preschool and we put you in your costume and even sprayed your hair with silver hair spray. You totally rocked the silver hair, Mister. You weren’t sure about it at first, but I have the feeling in the next twenty minutes an argument is going to occur regarding the shower.

Happy Birthday Danny Phantom. May you always use your ghost powers for good.
I love you,
Mama

A Project to Remember

Oh Craislist chair. What a bargain you were. How easy it might be to reupholster you? Sure, I've never done that before, but it's not rocket science right?

Oh Craigslist chair, you are stuffed with horse hair. Could I please get a collective and sympathetic *gag* from my loving readers? Oh the smell. Oh the nastiness. Why am I doing this again? Oh that's right, because it's such a bargain to find a great chair and then reupholster it yourself.

Might makes right. I bet this isn't how the professionals do it. I bet the professionals don't have a 3 and 5 year old jumping up and down behind them begging for a turn.

Oh Craigslist chair. I have stripped you bare. In only 4 hours. Now I just have to figure out how to put you back together... with new fabric, padding, batting and trim. Wait. How much is all of THAT crap going to cost?!

To be continued....

5 Minute Chocolate Mug Cake

I kept meaning to try this, but I kept putting it off. Mostly because I wanted to take pictures so if it was amazing I could share it with you.

4 tablespoons flour
4 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons cocoa
1 egg
3 tablespoons milk
3 tablespoons oil
3 tablespoons chocolate chips (optional)
A small splash of vanilla extract
1 large coffee mug (MicroSafe)
Add dry ingredients to mug, and mix well. Add the egg and mix thoroughly. Pour in the milk and oil and mix well.. Add the chocolate chips (if using) and vanilla extract, and mix again. Put your mug in the microwave and cook for 3 minutes at 1000 watts.
The cake will rise over the top of the mug, but don't be alarmed! Allow to cool a little, and tip out onto a plate if desired.


See the cake. See the cake rising over the top of the mug. Am I alarmed? Hell no. You should have seen what the microwave looked like BEFORE I put the mug into it. Here's to hoping a little bit more funk inspires me to clean it.



Here is the cake after cooling. Looks promising. My children start to smell chocolate and are suddenly standing so close to me I wonder if they are taking bets on who can get back into my uterus first.

I threaten children with no cake if they don't get off of me. Cake tipped out onto plate. Looks kind of kooky, right? I'm not afraid of kooky - if it has chocolate in it.
Drum roll please....

Final verdict. A little bit weak. Sure, it cooks in the microwave in five minutes, but it didn't have enough of a chocolate taste. Granted I didn't add the chocolate chips to it, but still. And I could taste the eggs. Quite frankly the only thing I should taste eggs in... is eggs. And it had too much flour. And really in retrospect, once you get all of that crap out of the pantry, measure and mix, it's not that hard to wait 45 minutes for an actual cake to cook, right? I mean, it's not the waiting on the baking that I dread, its the mixing before and the clean up after.
It did have a cake like consistency although it seemed to not cook evenly. It was very dense.
I would give this recipe 3 stars. And one of those stars is because it's a five minute jobbie. But I'll take one for the team here and keep working with it, until I can find something that rocks the house.

Good, bad or inbetween I'll tell you one thing though. My kids ate the crap outta that cake.

Dear Tristan - 3 Years, 1 Month

Dear Tristan,

For your birthday last month we bought you a big boy bed. We didn't buy the rails when we bought the crib, so we had to special order them. Briefly when Mommy wrote the check for $178.00 we considered maybe just letting you sleep in your chair for the rest of your life. Oh you may read this later and think that's mean, but really, that's doing you a favor. You'd love nothing more. We hooked up your new bed with t-shirt sheets, new pillows and a comfy foam mattress topper so your 35 lbs didn't get kinked up when you were sleeping on it. We talked it up. We sang songs about it. The picture below demonstrates just how much you love it.

You are still crazy about your big brother, but he's not so nice to you. I think that might come with the little brother territory, but it does break my heart to hear you run after him so excited to see him only to be pushed away or have whatever toy you are holding taken away from you. You are very forgiving though. I guess you know what your Dad and I do... that under it all, your brother loves you dearly. You are his best friend.

You are finall getting used to the preschool routine. You have a clear preference for one of your teachers, but sometimes you like to have a little tantrum when I'm leaving just for show. I think you get over it pretty quickly and even enjoy yourself just a little bit because you're always smiling when I come to pick you up. You even jump on Connor full of hugs and love since you haven't seen him since the lunch room 45 minutes before.

You've grown an inch since June! That's a lot for a little guy! You can throw the crap out of a ball too. And catch! You actually like playing ball. Who knew? Now if you could just stop throwing them in the house? Thanks. I really liked that picture frame.

I love you,
Mommy

Dear Connor - 4 Years, 11 Months

Dear Connor,
Mostly your Dad puts you to bed each night and I put your brother down. Sometimes though, your Dad goes to the gym or something else is going on and I put you both down or your Dad and I will switch the duties and I’ll put you to bed. On the nights that I put you down for bed you always ask for a lullaby that you’ve never heard before. So, I pull something out of the recesses of my brain to sing to you. Sometimes I get part of the way through the song and realize that the words need to change very quickly because when I’m singing Jeremy by Pearl Jam, I don’t want to sing the, “bit the recess ladys breast” lyric and quickly change it to, “gave the recess lady a kiss”. You’ve heard some Led Zepplin, Fleetwood Mac, Jefferson Airplane and Black Eyed Peas. You like the Tori Amos, Happy Phantom song and remember the ones that I’ve sang to you before. You like the Janis Joplin, Mercedes Benz song but you say it’s too loud.

You are all about your new preschool. It's hard for you to keep it together the entire day but by God you are doing it. I'm so proud of you. I know how hard it is for you to sit still. Each day you bring home your folder and I check your behavior status and there's a smiley face which means you were good all day. It makes me so happy.
You've been making up songs with words that rhyme and you're pretty damn good at it. You love making potions (mud pies), Danny Phantom and your new babysitter. You are driving me completely insane with your, "What if" game that begins with you asking me strange what if questions until I feel like I need to go and lock myself in a broom closet to get away from it all. This morning it was "What if Tristan ate a snake?" At first I tried to prove the futility of your question by answering, "How would Tristan catch a snake?", you weren't having any of my crap though, you simply respond with, "What if he did catch one?" It's Who's on first for the first thirty minutes of each day. I've considered moving the coffee pot to the upstairs bedroom.

This morning we had a "Test-Mommy-Who's-on-First" when I went to open up the fridge and there was something wet and slimy under the handle. It rubbed off on my hand.
I said, "What in the hell is THAT?" I thought I was talking to myself, but then realized that I wasn't when you responded, " I don't know, Mama, What the hell IS that?"
This is how the rest of the conversation went.

"Don't say that word."
"What word? Hell? Why can't I say Hell?"

"Because you're four"
"And four year olds can't say Hell?"
"No. Stop it."

"Why can't four year olds say Hell Mama?"
"Connor..." (in a warning tone)

"I was just wondering why four years olds can't say Hell. Is it not appropriate?"
I won't bore my readers with the rest of the conversation, because it basically ended up with me getting testy and him understanding that the envelope had been pushed far enough.

Or at least until Mommy had another cup of coffee.
I love you,
Mama

SPD Support Charlotte

The Monday before my SPD Support group meeting, I woke up at 7am and my hands were shaking. I didn’t have a nightmare, my blood sugar wasn’t low, I was nervous… four days before. By the time Thursday came, I had it pushed out of my mind until the drive up to the meeting location, where the only thing I could do to distract myself was to grab the nearest unscratched CD and blast it as loud as it would go. I would like to interject here that no matter how good you look, what you are listening to, or where you are driving, it is impossible to be cool while driving a minivan. Once I arrived at our chosen venue, (local restaurant with backroom), people slowly started coming in. I was drinking a beer, praying that the liquid courage would work its magic.
Apparently it did.
I was really nervous when I first started talking to the group. Everything I had rehearsed in my head a million times was gone as the panic took my words away. We were sitting in bar stools at the end of the room so that everyone could see us and because I was holding a beverage, it made it possible to hold on tightly enough that you couldn’t see my hands shaking.
I told my story, which was much shorter and less poignant that I had hoped it would be, thanks to my nervousness but once I was finished talking, I relaxed and was able to speak to the group without feeling like my heart was going to leap through my chest.
I believe that this group is needed. I believe it so much, that I don’t give a shit if I get up there and uncontrollably shake each time I talk to them. What is one person’s embarrassment to the salvation of 20? Or 19, which is how many people we had at the first meeting. It was amazing.
When I was telling my story and talking about Connor rubbing poop all over everything for several weeks, there were people that were emphatically nodding. When I talked about how frustrating it is to have a child that’s out of control or to have people tell you that all you need to do is provide more discipline when you know that you are being as consistent and possible and might in fact, be more strict than a lot of parents that you know, people were nodding… not just smiling and nodding either, nodding because they understood. Because they too had been though the confusion, the judgment that comes with having an SPD kid. I had known them all for about 15 minutes and they understood me. And I understood them. And we were starving to talk to each other.
The group members passed around information about diets, doctors and books. They talked about their frustrations with the pediatricians not understanding and their families that didn’t think there was anything wrong with their child. They talked about how long it took to figure out there was a problem and no one has every heard of SPD. They talked. And talked. And talked.
My co-host, Susie and I were still sitting at the front of the room, more as spectators of the discussion than members of it, because we were running the show. Susie mentioned that next time she wanted to be sitting at the table and I couldn’t have agreed with her more.
So far I’ve had over 50 people contact me about the group. I don’t know that we’ll have that many people show up at each meeting, but I do think the group may get even larger than that as the news spreads that it’s out there. I’m just glad that we are able to offer support to so many parents who, like me are starving for connection. We are going to need to find a bigger meeting room.

Dear Tristan - 3 Years Old!

Dear Tristan,

For your birthday this year, we got you something that you've never had before. Your very own birthday party. We felt like you were starting to get jipped, being the second child and all, so this year when you turned three years old. It was all about you. And you were all about that. You had your very own Iron Man balloon and your very own cake. Best of all, you got some of your very own presents. Presents that you were encouraged, but not forced to share with your brother.

For us, three is worst than the terrible twos. Or at least it was with your brother. I have no doubt that three is going to be worse for us with you than two was. This is because the day you turned three you started whining and you have not stopped yet. So much that even last night in your sleep you were whining.

Your present from us for your birthday was a big boy bed. No more sleeping on your converted crib on that hard old crib mattress for you. Now you have a comfy, cozy, bed complete with memory foam pad on top. Cush. Except you'd still rather sleep in your chair. I've considered removing the chair from your room, but that would be like taking away your blanket. I mean, I guess eventually you won't fit in your chair anymore, right? RIGHT?

You've started your second year of preschool at a brand new school. You cried the first two days that I dropped you off. You protested so loudly, in fact, that I could hear you screaming in the parking lot while standing next to my car. It was hard to drive away, but I'm glad that I did, because by the third drop off you went barreling into the class and throwing your arms around (one of) your teachers legs. Now... you love it. Except for the one time that teacher was out sick and you went running into the classroom and then froze like a deer in the headlights when you saw the sub. You saw your other teacher that is usually there, (you have two in the classroom), but weren't having any of that. There was some screaming that day too... but only for a little while.

I can't believe how charismatic you are. Maybe you whine a little bit, (HA!, a little bit...) but you sure know how to schmooze. I'm glad of this characteristic even more than your vocabulary, which is a match for any 5 year old on the playground... because because charismatic will serve you well, especially when you are drop dead gorgeous.
I love you like crazy,
Mommy

Why You Shouldn't Drink Before a Presidential Speech

Remember last night when during the Obama speech on health care, Joe Wilson yelled out, "You're lying!"? It was awesome. Not that he yelled that... but that he's such a moron that he didn't realize being so blatantly rude to the President of the United States could come with a price. I mean really. Right, wrong or indifferent. You can admit that was pretty fucking rude, right?
Of course everyone on the Internet has probably blogged this link already... so here's mine:
http://www.joewilsonisyourpreexistingcondition.com/
As much as I'd like to pretend that I found this link somewhere on CNN, Jorma showed it to me when he got home... I was busy ironing. No really.
I think what's even more interesting than this link, is the link on the bottom right. It looks like the attempt to run Joe Wilson out of office might be quite lucrative for Rob Miller the Democratic Election hopeful for 2010. So far, $185,307.32 has been raised to "teach Joe Wilson a lesson". I think this is freakin hilarious. I bet never another senator will start yelling like they are at a high school pep rally. Or at least any Senator that wants to keep their job.

If You Build it They Will Come

When Connor was first diagnosed with SPD, I searched for a local support group. Finding that some pediatricians and the general population both don’t have an understanding of this disorder is frustrating. I searched the SPD foundation website, but did not find any support groups for Charlotte. So. I volunteered to start one. Starting one is quite simple. You volunteer though the SPD Foundation to be a host. You have to sign a legal form or two and voila! you are a host. I met another Sensory Mom at a birthday party and she volunteered to co-host it with me. Maybe for one person it would be difficult, but between the two of us, certainly we could pull it off. And then the marketing begin. We’ve called every OT in Charlotte and asked them to post our flyer. I sent an email to my MOMS club and that email is still circulating around the internet. My co-host posted flyers in public places. I hit up Facebook and asked friends to let their friends that have SPD kids know about us. I thought maybe we’d get 5 or 6 people that were interested. Now we have about 20.

For the first meeting we are getting together lists of local OTs, name tags, ice breakers, logo, agenda and a reservation in the backroom of a local restaurant. We are rolling right along. I think it’s going to be fantastic for the community and not as much work as you might think, once the ball gets rolling… there’s only one flaw. Since my co-host and I are the founders of this group in Charlotte, of course we are expected to stand up and lead the group. You know, like actually stand up and speak to them… as in public speaking. (Enter organ music here). I read a survey once that asked people which they would rather do, give a speech, or get hit by a bus. A surprising number of those surveyed said they’d prefer the bus. I am one of those people.

For those of you that do not know me that well, let me tell you my dirty little secret… public speaking terrifies me. Now I know you are thinking to yourself that you get nervous too when standing up in front of a group of people. But you don’t get nervous like this. Oh no you don’t. My entire body shakes. My voice shakes. I break out into hives. I am that person. I know you think that I’ll get used to it, (once I took three back to back semester long public speaking classes), or that if I’m talking about something I’m passionate about I’ll be ok, (you should have seen the speech I gave on how to take better pictures… you could see my heart beating through my shirt). Now eventually I do get used to it. It takes a lot of time but eventually I’ll be ok, but I still worry about that first impression. What’s the worst is that when people see you are nervous, they give you their full attention. They stare at you completely, hoping to look interested so you will relax. I can not tell you how much worse this makes it. But I will give myself credit. I will not. Stop talking. I will finish my words. I will not sit down. I will brace myself on the table to keep my weak knees functioning. I will not sit down. Even though my body is betraying me.

Maybe this time it will be different. Maybe because someone will be standing up with me I will be ok. Maybe I’ll have a glass of wine and the liquid courage will wash over me and keep me steady. Maybe. But there are people coming that are going through the same things that we are going through with their own children. There are people that are so excited about this group starting and that can’t wait for the first meeting. I can just hope that will be enough to keep me focused and wash away my phobia. Because once my phobia is gone… I’m taking over the world, people.

Dear Connor - 4 Years, 11 Months

Dear Connor,

Tonight I got the old baby clothes out of the attic for the consignment sale I will be participating in this year. I decided to go ahead and get rid of all of the winter and fall stuff that your brother has already outgrown. I was so certain that it was going to be a quick and easy process that while Daddy was doing the pre-bed-prep I threw the first bag of clothes onto the bed and began sorting. My eyes were watering within 4 minutes. I wasn't prepared for how hard it was going to be.




I thought I would just toss them in neat little piles, smiling at this one or that one, but when I picked up your green fuzzy sweatsuit that was the standard, cold weather outfit, when you were just a year old, I held it to my chest. When I picked up a pair of footy pjs and held them up so I could see the size, my muscle memory kicked in and I remember how exactly it felt to hold you up in the air when you only weighed a few pounds. I can tell you where each article of clothing came from, who purchased it and why I loved it so. I can tell you which shirts your belly poked out of, or which onesie you threw up on immediately each time we put you into it. I can tell you which pants were the warmest and what you wore the first day of preschool. And while it doesn't matter to anyone else... those memories matter to me. Because when I see the pants that you wore on the first day of preschool, I remember you on the first day of preschool. How small you were sitting on my hip, next to my buldging belly where your brother, (due any day) was curled up and sleeping, waiting to be born. How scared I was for you. How I went to iHop to celebrate my child free time and ordered pancakes that I was too nervous to eat.




Tonight, I could not stop staring at you when you came over to rummage though the bag to see if there was anything that would fit one of the babydolls we bought for you when Tristan was born. How did you get so big SO FAST?! It's incredible. I'm so lucky to have been able to stay home with you and your brother. While I do a lot of complaining about how I don't have time to myself or how I don't stop moving until 9pm, it really is a gift to have been able to nurture you full time. You should thank your Father some time for making it happen... and maybe so should I.



But some days now you look at me, like you've just had enough of me and when I come over to put my arms around you and hug you, you whine and push me away. I understand. Some days I feel like that too. But if I could get you back into that onesie with the bunnies and bears on it, I swear I'd hold you forever.
I love you,
Mommy