The All-County Incident

(Note: All conflicts and feelings of malice resulting from the described incident below have long since been resolved. High school gives us healthy competition and sometimes not-so-healthy competition. Either way, we live and we learn…However, sometimes it’s not until years later that we learn the WHOLE story. Tonight, I will attend the funeral of a childhood friend’s mom, whom we’ve just lost also to cancer, and I guess it’s just gotten me thinking about the loss of my own dad and how we learn to cling tightly to the good memories so that we can continue to survive with the bad… Anyhow, I hope you get a laugh out of it and if you, my dear frienemy from high school, are reading this, I hope no hard feelings are stirred up and that you will correct anything that I have wrongly depicted that you feel needs correcting.)

Up until my sophomore year in high school, playing ball was my jam. It came so easy. I was 5’8” by the time I hit middle school and came from a father who could have/should have played college ball (I learned this only after he passed away when his family told me. I knew he’d chosen to join the Navy after high school and that his family was poor but I never knew it cost him his hoop dreams. Turns out, he couldn’t have afforded to go to college without the Navy, even if it had been on a well-deserved basketball scholarship. Instead, he joined the Navy and sent money home to his family. That’s just the kind of man he was.) I grew up with Dad coaching me on and off the field whether I wanted him to or not. 

I was best as basketball because of my height, as I towered over pretty much everyone else at that age, but it was softball I loved. I was a slugger and by my freshman year, I earned an award for the Varsity team’s most homeruns hit during the season.  By that time, dad was just my off-the-field coach, but like me, he always had a hard time staying silent when he thought a wrong was done and I can recall one particular incident that caused me an especially hard time in school…

It was nearing the end of that 9th grade softball season and the All-County Team was getting ready to be announced.  The coach made his nominations and I wasn’t one of them.  Another freshman, however, was.  As I recall, Dad’s objection was that she was a great ballplayer but had been hurt and out for most of the season and there was a better choice for the nomination he felt the coach had overlooked.  Anyway, Dad spoke up and pointed this out to the coach who apparently told the nominated player’s mother who said something to dad before one of the games, something along the lines of, “You shouldn’t have said (so and so)” and Dad replied with, “You don’t even know what I said”, and they let it go at that.  Well, I guess the player’s mom told the player who told her/my (high school is so complicated…) friends and they gave me hell about how we(Dad and I) were just jealous that I wasn’t nominated and so forth.  Everyone, including myself, assumed it was me that Dad thought should have been nominated.  After all, I had the most homeruns… Anyway, I hadn’t had anything to do with Dad talking to the coach, but I’m sure I stood my ground, because that’s just what I did back then, right or wrong.

Later on in the same month, the All-State Team was named.  I, as a freshman, received Honorable Mention for All-State.  I remember sitting in my same seat in English class, surrounded by the same kids who had mocked me just weeks before for our “jealousy” over the All-County team nominations, and just grinning to myself and thinking, “We sure showed them, Dad.” 

 

Years later, not long before he passed away, I found two softballs on my dad’s desk with game scores written on them.  Of all the homeruns I’d hit, why were those two the ones he’d chosen to keep, I asked dad. He asked me if I remembered the ordeal at the tournament where he and so-and-so (the player’s mom’s name shall go unmentioned as, again, peace has long since been made) had bad feelings over the All-County softball nominations? I said, of course, and he proceeded to tell me the rest of that story a la Earl Pitts in my early childhood memories:

After they’d had those few words, he chose to move his chair to behind the outfield fence and watched the game from there, I assume alone, to avoid further confrontation (I guess. Remember, this is being recalled some 20 years later.)  Anyway, that’s where he was sitting when I sent not one but two homeruns from back-to-back at bats over the fence right to him.  He was so proud and, because he’d been sitting out there, he was in the right place to grab them and stick them in his coat pocket. 

When I told that part to Dad, about the other kids making fun of me in class for being jealous that I didn’t get the All-County nomination and then how I was so proud of the All-State nod, Isaid, “Well, then I guess we showed them twice, didn’t we?Once with the home runs and once with the award.” He looked at me like I had three heads and said, “I wasn’t even arguing for you to be nominated. I was talking about Jess.  She was a senior who pitched well every single game and had a solid batting average.  He wouldn’t have won a game without her.  You were just a freshman!”

Well, at least I’ll always have my home run balls and another memory to bring me a smile when I miss him more than I think I can stand it.  Sometimes, I look at my two beautiful daughters and think, “Look, Dad! I hit two more home runs for you to be proud of.” I think they are keepers, too.  

 

 

The Mom I Want to Know

  I'm sitting at IBH (Integrated Behavioral Health) this morning with my oldest daughter, waiting for an appointment with our 3rd new psychiatrist in the past year. On the table of the IBH waiting room is a table full of celebrity magazines. Kim Kardashian stares up at me and the cover article invites me to take an inside look at her life. I look up to see a young boy, probably about 10 or so years-old (my daughter's age) come out of the office and close the door behind him. He has on wide-rimmed glasses and something about him, his lovable quirkiness, makes me wonder if he is on the spectrum like my baby. His mom asks him how his session went, then she gets up to go see when she should bring him back. I can't hear the receptionist's answer, but they must not need to come back for awhile because the mom smiles at her kid and says, "Well, you must be doing good, then. Way to go!" Something about this simple exchange makes me want to know this mom- to become her friend and see how she is navigating not only the already murky waters of raising a pre-teen, but raising one who has the need to see a psychiatrist for whatever reason (ADHD, Asperger's, whatever). I want to say, "You must be doing good too, mom. Way to go!", because I know it's tough. It's tough, not only watching your kid struggle, but also tough not knowing how to help them, especially when you have to maneuver through the hoops and red tape of insurance policies, ever-changing doctor, and waiting lists. This particular mom seemed to be doing this dance well and SHE is the mom whose life I want an inside view of. Not Kim Kardashian with her millions and her paid help. I want to know how this mom copes with having more than she can possibly do in one day and still raise a kid who needs a little extra from her just to grow up and be "normal". I want to know this mom and tell her she absolutely rocks in the way I want to rock. She's a rockstar mom, the kind I want to know, and being a rockstar mom is way better than being Kim Kardashian, and I guarantee it pays way better- just not in a tangible way. 

   

The Asperger's Road/My Advice for You

When I started writing this blog, I had hopes that I could help other parents in the early stages of an Asperger’s diagnosis with regards to their children feel a little less overwhelmed and lost; maybe I could guide them down the Asperger's road a little bit. I realize that I haven’t done as much of the explaining and paving of the road as I would have liked.  Here’s why: There is no road.

  When Presley’s first-grade teacher and counselor first approached me with the thought that my perfect, funny, brilliant daughter might have a “disorder”, I was floored. I wanted to read all I could read and figure it out, but, the more I read the more confused I was. The children in the books who were exhibiting “characteristic Aspergerger’s traits” of outbursts and violent meltdowns were nothing like my mild-mannered angel. I was horrified. I put the books down.

  When we finally accepted that this was really happening, we started the LOOOONG journey of trying to get the proper documentation and diagnosis. That is probably the one thing I have been able to document well during the course of our journey and you can find that journey in my blogs, "The Sparks Experience I and II" and "Catching Up".  The diagnosis, although it took nearly three years, a hunk of change out of our pockets and quite a few tears from pretty much all of us, turned out to be the easy part.  You pretty much have a limited choice of doctors in your area (and by "your area" I mean within a couple hundred miles") who offer the needed tests and your pediatrician and/or school can make the referral(s).

  After that, the “What now?” hits. What therapy does she need? Which doctors do we need to be seeing? What about her schooling? Do we stay in the small, private school we love with no IEPs or Special Education or move her to public school where the above is offered but her world is upturned by the loss of the familiar friends who have surrounded her since kindergarten? Homeschool? (Ummm….no. Please, God. Just no. Not for us.) I wanted to find every doctor, therapist, group, or counselor who could help her and FIX it NOW. What I found was that even if you do find the very best counselor for what you are dealing with at the time, tomorrow may present a whole new set of circumstances for you to deal with and then you start all over. But isn’t that life for all of us, diagnosed or not? The best advice I can give you if you are a parent stressing over if you are making the right decisions or not is what my friend and co-worker Connie told me was passed on to her and I agree, “We make the best decision we can at the time with the information we have on hand.” And also, “It’s ok to not have all the answers.” This last bit of wisdom is my own…Because, honestly, even if you DO find the right answer, tomorrow there is going to be a whole new question.  Ex: our precious OT in Huntsville, Sharon, helped TREMENDOUSLY with handwriting issues and shoe tying/self-care; but now we are looking for a Math tutor who understands how Presley’s brain works and where the answer is “getting stuck”, because we know she knows 9 x 9 = 81…so why the tears?

 I can tell you what has and has not worked for us, which doctors we loved and which centers we won’t waste our time with again, but in the end, your child and your journey is going to be different than mine. What I'd like to tell you is:

1.  Surround yourself with positive, Godly people who will pray for you.

2.  You, yourself, pray like CRAZY (with your spouse, if applicable).

3.  Just keeping facing each challenge as it arises, without letting them cause you to worry so much that you miss all the fun, laughter, and joy that comes with a child designed just the way God meant for them to be.

Third Time’s the Charm (When it Comes to Dealing with Grief During the Holidays)

Everyone expects the “firsts” after we lose someone we love to be difficult: the first birthday without them, the first anniversary they aren’t here to celebrate, and certainly the first Holiday season. What got me was that the second Christmas without my dad was nearly as tough as the first. The hole was still there. I still felt like when I looked to the end of our pew during our church’s traditional Christmas Eve Candelight Service, he should be standing there singing. It still caught me a little off guard when he wasn’t. Grief stole from me yet another joyous holiday season.

  But this year was better. Do I still miss him? Of course. So many times, I think how much he’d have enjoyed something my daughters did or said. It still breaks my heart that mom celebrated alone during the times that we couldn’t be there with her, when we were with my husband’s family. My parents would have celebrated their 50^th wedding anniversary just one week before Christmas. I had planned that party in my head for years, imagining something like the picture I’d seen so many times of my grandparents celebrating their Golden Anniversary. I’m still angry that cancer stole that from my mom and dad. They endured so much over the years to finally make it to “the good life” as Dad called it.

  But, the truth is, it DOES get easier. The first year, I wanted to punch people in the face when they told me that. There was no way missing the most important person in my life would ever get easier. I didn’t want it to; because, that would mean I was forgetting him or that I cared less. Year two, the shock had worn off and he was started to seem further and further away. I struggled so hard to hang onto every detail, every little memory, that I wasn’t able to enjoy what was happening around me. But in year three, I found the peace I’d been missing since his passing. I KNOW without a doubt that my dad waits for us in Heaven. The time we’ve had so far is just the beginning as there’s an eternity of joy waiting when we all get there. I’ve known that, but had to heal enough that I could rest easy in that knowledge and stop hanging onto his memory so tightly. I’ll never forget him. I spent 31 years talking to him, and usually seeing him, on a daily basis. He’s in the mirror when I look into it and see the nose I used to hate but have come to love because it came from him. He’s in my oldest daughter’s corny jokes and in the youngest’s forehead.  He watches over us as we continue to live, to love, and enjoy the days that are given us. Because these days won’t last forever, no more wasting them on grief…

  This year, as we sang Silent Night holding our candles (just before my youngest broke out in screams of “I want my own (candle)!!!”, and tried to light the place on fire-  oh the irony of singing about a Silent Night with a two year old), and I saw my family as it is today- my mom, my husband, and our two beautiful children, one age 9 and one born 9 months and 1 week from the day my dad went to wait for us in heaven. The baby reminds me that the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away; that life is about changing and rolling with the punches.  She reminds me to enjoy life, and those in it, before mine is over and new life begins. But, most importantly, she reminds me that there is joy to be had even after such loss…it just sometimes takes 3 years to fully feel it again.

 

Making Christmas Memories (Like It or Not) and Quick & Easy Peanuts Costumes

My kids are going to look back on their childhoods and fondly recall all the fun times we had, parades we were in and parties we went to. Hopefully, they won't remember all of the kicking and screaming they did on the way to those events. This applies especially to my oldest who is not big on getting out of her comfort zone (the corner of our sectional sofa, curled up with her iPad) and facing the world; but we do it anyway and both kids are usually glad we did. 

  Now, I'm not what you'd call a natural-born mother-type. Don't get me wrong- I love those babies something fierce- that's not the problem at all. It's the domesticy stuff that gets me: cleaning (Lord, help me), sewing (I can't even thread the needle), and basic household organization and management duties are just not my cup of tea. But, for my babies' memories of all our fun times to be as perfect as possible, I give it my best shot, because making them happy and as well-adjusted as possible IS my cup of tea- no, it's better than tea. It's a big 'ol frothy glass of root beer in one of those ice-cold frozen mugs like the ones they have at Cracker Barrel...ohhhh, man. That's good stuff. Ok, ok. Back on track- the babies. 😍😍😍

 Anyway, as I was saying, to make the babies' memories as Norman Rockwell perfect as possible, I always spend way too much at Hobby Lobby on supplies I'll probably never use and some I'll never even know HOW to use, trying be "that" mom who can craft and construct whatever the need may be. Throw in 5 minutes on Pinterest and I'm rolling into the house with a dump truck size load of felt and tee-shirts and all I can say is thank Heaven for glue guns. So, I take my Pinterested game plan, my load of Hobby Lobby miscellaneous, and that trusty glue gun and we make what my babies sweet memories are going to be made of. This time, we needed costumes for the yearly Christmas parade in town with my oldest girl's Girl Scout troop. Our theme was "Peanuts: A Charlie Brown Christmas. Here's the 4-1-1 on how I made what we needed:

 We'd previously decided on Snoopy and Woodstock for the two girls' costumes and then I figured I could be Linus without much effort. All it took was using a $5 oversized red tee from Hobby Lobby and adding some black Duct Tape stripes. I threw it in over my black fleece leggings, borrowed an old blue baby blanket as my prop, and - TaDa! I'm Linus!

For the big girls' Snoopy top, I used a plain white sweatshirt under a fuzzy hoodie, both from Wal-Mart, to make sure she'd be plenty warm. I found a large piece of plain old black felt at Hobby Lobby and cut out an oval for the spot on Snoopy's back. (I later swapped favors with my mom and got her to sew this spot and Woodstock's

feather boa onto the costumes while I fixed her printer😉.) For Snoopy's head, I started with a plain white baseball cap I'd found at Hobby Lobby where I had also found some black peel and stick felt that was simple to cut small strips and a round circle circle for Snoopy's eyes and mouth. I found a pattern here -> (http://its-fitting.com/2012/11/halloween-snoopy-costume/snoopy-ears/) for the ears. I printed the pattern, used it to trace around, and then cut out the ears from a second plain piece of black felt before using my trusty glue gun to affix them to each side of the hat. 

She already had some black mittens and since white pants (even leggings!) were impossible to find in December, we just used a pair of black Nike ThermaFit pants over a pair of black leggings for warmth and there was our Snoopy! (We had meant to let her wear her red scarf but forgot it the morning of the parade, so she borrowed the necklace I'd worn to work and called it Snoopy's collar, instead. 

Finding a solid yellow top for Woodstock was harder than I'd imagined,so I wound up buying a fuzzy "minion" shirt from Wal-Mart and flipping it inside out. 

Finding a yellow hat and gloves was impossible with my limited time frame, so I made my own with a $3 bottle of RIT dye (also from Wal-Mart) and a cheap white toboggan and gloves. (Instructions are on the dye bottle and it takes about 30 minutes and some boiling water.) They didn't turn out as dark of a yellow as I'd hoped but they served their purpose. I found a foam visor, like children often use for crafts, also at Hobby Lonby, and used two strips of the adhesive black felt again to make Woodstock's eyes on the visor which would be worn over the toboggan. 

Hobby Lobby also had these inexpensive feather boas that spruced up the neck and bottom of the "Woodstock" shirt again as well as cute little feather ponytail holder in case the girl didn't want to wear the hat. 

Black leggings and a pair of black leg warmers that I also found at Hobby Lobby completed the Woodstock outfit! 

Nothing fancy, but we all had costumes and everyone was happy. Well, at least once the parade got rolling, we were happy. The hour and a half when we stood in line waiting for the parade to start was a different story and of course there was the typical, "I don't want to go anywhere!", drama with trying to get my oldest ready. However, once the parade got rolling, my babies waved and "Merry Christmas"-edl like little pros. I was one proud mama! 😍 P even saw a friend from church and went over to talk. She introduced her school friend to her church friend. All this in the middle of a crowded, noisy parade! In our world, this is big. And that's making for one happy memory for her mom.

I 

At Home in Homewood

Homewood, AL makes my heart smile. I love this bustling little area and all it's trendy and unique little boutiques sandwiched between classic Main Street USA-type old time bakeries and businesses. From Homewood Toy & Hobby, the oldest toy shop in the Birmingham area which has been family owned and operated for the past 50 years, to the Pink Tulip where my love-err...obsession- with lacy, flowing boutique tops is fueled by their decently priced and available-on-Facebook fashions, my oldest daughter and I have to hit this area on our bi-monthly trips to the 'Ham.

   Our latest trip started off as usual with the main purpose for our journey south, a visit to Pitts & Associates where my daughter sees our beloved Dr. Le and now also their new Nurse Practitioner who handles the medication we've tried at all costs to avoid, but finally realized the necessity of. (That's a while 'nother blog.)

  After our visit, we typically would head straight to 18th St. in Homewood, just a couple of blocks over from the doctors'office, for lunch at our favorite restaurant, Urban Cookhouse. They serve up fantastic fresh, locally sourced produce as well as a fabulous "Half-baked Cookie" that comes to your table in a small cast iron skillet and is pure, gooey heaven to your tastebuds. However, it's a pretty popular little place and not very big. Being so, the smell and crowd noise can be a little too much for my girl, so during warmer weather we dine in the outside area, right on the sidewalk where we feel so fancy, just like we are in New York or Paris instead of just an hour and a half from our home in Caddo.  Now that the weather is turning colder, we are in search of a new diner. This time the girl chose Subway, but even Homewood's Subway is a uniquely arranged, two-story little stop-in where we have managed to have the upstairs area all to ourselves both times we've visited, and we're able to look down from the balcony to the rest of the store and it's passersby. It's a pretty cool, quaint little place for fast food, especially. 

  Our plan for dessert was to skip a few blocks over to Steel City Pops where they, like Urban Cookhouse, use fresh, all-natural or certified organic and locally grown (whenever possible) ingredients in their popsicles; But, our deal is that I get a treat and she gets a treat, and since my treat was on our way to the Pops, we made a "quick" stop first.

On this trip, I wanted my treat to be from Seibel's Camp & Cottage Outfiters, another fabulous little nook we'd previously discovered while wandering up and down 18th St as we attempted to walk off part of the previously-mentioned cookie.

***Pres swinging inside Seibel's***

They have everything you need to give your lake house, cabin, or Caddo home a well-decorated cottage feel with lots of cozy fabrics, furniture, and rugs, but that's just the big stuff. I scored a fantastic new burlap tree skirt from Seibel's then we headed a few doors down where we "oooh"-ed and "ahhh"-ed for a good hour inside our newest "must see" while in Homewood: Alabama Goods.

This store sells exactly what the name says: Alabama goods made in Alabama by Alabama artisans. But these goods are amazing. There's jewelry...

and hand-carved wooden toys...

and my favorite, the "Prodigal Pottery" items handmade by the women of King's Home, a shelter for women fleeing domestic violence (Hello, perfect Christmas gift!?)...

Not to mention the gourmet goodies...

Seriously, need I say more? This place is perfect. The precious ladies at the counter beautifully wrapped our purchases and even pointed us across the street to another Homewood treasure, Savage's.

 This bakery and deli has been serving up tasty treats since 1939, and to be quite honest, it doesn't feel like this place has changed much since it opened. It's like walking right into the past and walking right out with delicious gingerbread men and sugar cookies ALMOST as good as my mama could make them. ;) 

  By this point, I'm knee deep in nostalgia and quite positive that life would be perfect if we lived here. Not only would we have access to resources we don't have at home for Presley's educational needs but all these fabulous stores for my pocketbook's demise. Then, we see this: 

A weekly Pokemon tournament for my girl who LOVES the weird, anime, nonsense. I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto. We sure don't have stuff like this in Caddo. Have I mentioned I love this place?!?

Treasures from the Past

Talk about finding treasure!! Today's find was better than gold... My precious Aunt Glenda Wright (married to my Dad's brother Tom who passed away a year after dad) recently sent me a box that came from my Grandmother's home, which Glenda and Tom had purchased after Granny Wright passed away in the year before my dad (yes, we had a rough few years...) In it was a quilt made by my Grandmother so that both of my girls now have one. Also in the box, I found this pic of a great (great?) uncle eating watermelon and thought it would look perfect in display as we are doing some redecorating in what I call a "funky farmhouse" motif. I'm in love with vintage EVERYTHING!

So, today, I dug a little deeper into the box. There was a large envelope that had "Sonny", my dad's nickname, written on it. Inside was a pic of my dad's recruitment platoon/squadron (terminology??[ Apologies if this is the incorrect term. I even googled it but failed to find an answer]) as they prepared to ship out of San Diego on June 1, 1960. 

Dad is the tall, skinny one with the ears in the back center. 

I thought that alone was cool but then found a pile of yellowed papers that had fallen out from behind the picture and landed on my table!

The pile consisted of my dad's report cards from 5th-12th grades. Apparently, he struggled in History, too! 

There was also a post card mailed from the U.S. Recruiting Office in Nashville to my dad's family in Etheridge, TN in 1960 telling them how he'd passed his exam and would "probably leave today." 

Another letter home written by Dad on April 28, 1960 tells that he was made "Squad Commander" and didn't like telling others what to do and being called "sir". He mentions mailing his civilian clothes home via Parcel Post for $1.97 and seemed concerned over the cost (He always was a penny pincher!) 

Also in my treasure pile, a newspaper clipping of what I recognized as his ship, the "Oriskany", having its mast removed and lowered to the dry dock floor so a new system of some type could be installed (the Naval Tactical Data System) to "meet the demands of modern warfare, in which aircraft and  missiles may approach a task force at speeds of thousands of miles an hour." 

(Today, the Oriskany lies off the coast of Floriday and is used as a barrier reef.)

The pile also included some type of membership card that belonged to my grandfather and a business card perhaps of someone named Casey O'Brien who offered "custom made clothes" in Fresno, CA apparently in 1938 as indicated by the calendar on the card's backside.  

What special finds on such an otherwise ordinary day! Can't wait to find a unique way to display these items! Any ideas??

 

Fun (and Educational!) Finds from Target

  My Girl-Child is a friggin' genius when it comes to animals. She soaks up facts like a little sponge and doesn't forget. EVER. But, there are some things she struggles with, mainly because she THINKS she can't do it, gets upset and shuts down. Math has been a big frustration for her simply because she lacks confidence. Her teachers have been great at helping us work through this and I'm hoping next year goes well, too. We have a meeting today with last year's teacher, the Chief Learning Leader (principal) and next year's teacher to talk strategy (what has worked, didn't work, and a plan for next year).

  Given our struggles with math confidence, I was excited to run across these finds at Target last night to help us get ready to go back to school.

 I figure that letting her review what we learned in 3rd grade at home in her own time, at her own pace, and getting in some extra confidence-building practice certainly can't hurt as we get close to the beginning of 4th grade. I want her to be confident in what she has learned in the past to hopefully make 4th grade math seem less daunting. So far, she is loving the play $ and is getting good practice making change by playing "store" with me. We are buying and selling Minnie Mouse's clothes and accessories out of a magnetic dress-up kit (Melissa & Doug brand) that her sister got for her birthday.

 The Division and Multiplication Workbooks were only $1. (The Frozen "Count on Us" book is for my little, age 2, who is learning to count to 10.)  My Girl-Child loves the insect flash cards w/ facts on the back. Our deal is that she works on her math each day (today she did 2 workbook pages) in exchange for extra iPad time or a prize. She has played with the money on her own with no reward. The letter magnets, insect flash cards, and Just Dance 2015 Wii game were prizes. The Space Chase Box Game also turns multiplication and division review into playtime, I just have to remember to not rush her when it's her turn and keep the mood light so she doesn't get frustrated. All of this came from the One Spot (all $1 except the play money, which was $3) with the only exception being the Wii game, which was 50% off with Cartwheel coupon making it about $20 To be honest, the Just Dance is just as much for me as the kids. I like to play the "Just Sweat" mode for 30 mins or so when I can't get out of the house for some cardio. To my 2-year-olds delight, this 2015 version of the game has "Let It Go" from Frozen as one of the song options for play. Because, Lord knows we all need to hear that song one more time! Ha! 

Clay Necklaces for Wearing Essential Oils

I've been putting the essential oils on my girl child to help with anxiety and focus. I apply them to her feet, over her heart, brain stem and behind her ears morning and night but with standardized testing this week I needed a way for her to have access to the oils during the testing. One option was to put one of the roller fitaments on a bottle of the oils and let her carry it with her. 

But, I wasn't real sure that she would remember or take the time to do it so I wanted a better option. I did what I always do and turned to Pinterest for inspiration and came up with the idea of helping her make a clay necklace. We got almost all the supplies at Wal-Mart on our weekly shopping trip except for the stamps which were 50% off at Hobby Lobby where I got a good variety in a pack for about $4.00. All items below came from Wal-Mart. 

The Air-Dry clay was about $5 and was the most expensive item I bought. The closure attachments weren't really necessary since you can kit make the necklace long and just tie a knot but I thought we might make some bracelets too so I bought some just in case. You can use pretty much any kind of string or cord. 

  First I took a small chunk of the clay and used a pencil to roll it out flat. Then, I took a bottle top and pressed out a circle to use for the pendant. We stamped the designs onto the clay circles and used a skewer (you could also use a toothpick) to make a hole where our cord would go through. 

The clay takes a day or two to dry then you just thread your cord through. I like to fold the cord in half and put the doubled end through a bit making a loop then pull the two loose ends through to make the necklace lay flat. 

You can then either tie on the closures or or just make the necklace long enough to tie a knot and slip it on and off their heads. Each morning before school, in addition to putting the oils on her skin, I add a drop of oil onto the necklace. The clay absorbs the oil so it's there during the day. She likes peppermint best and as it helps to increase focus, I think it's a great choice for her to wear to smell when she hits that mid day slump. 

On the necklace above, we also made a small bead out of some of the excess clay, poked a hole through it with our skewer and added it just above the pendant for a little extra decoration. We've learned these necklaces break fairly easy when left long and dangly, so I recommend making them shorter. Plus, it keeps the scent nearer to their noses. :)

Catching Up

I have had the worst case of writer's block EVER I suppose because for MONTHS I just have had nothing worthwhile to say. Sure there's been plenty of meaningful moments and much excitement going on around me but I've just been in somewhat of a funk and just really felt that if I didn't have anything positive to contribute to the already overcrowded-with-crap internet, then I should do like my mama said and not say anything at all. But now I have gotten into (and fallen in LOVE with) the world of essential oils and - hooray!! I have something positive to contribute, once again!! But, before I can even go into how the oils are helping us, I feel like I need to do some catching up on what's happened since our last trip to UAB. For months and months that would have been an easy job because NOTHING HAPPENED. We waited. And we waited. And we waiting some more to hear from UAB after all the testing we went through only for them to tell us we needed more testing. But we were going to get the results of the tests that COULD BE useful for the future testing at some point. We had actually received the short-version of the results of the UAB testing over the phone. After all those long hours of tests, we came up with two rule-out diagnosis, meaning more testing was required to tell us what we went down there basically just to confirm.  At this point, I have no doubt that my daughter is on the spectrum and definitely has attention issues. We were told that the final report would be mailed to us once it was transcribed which could take some time...and that it did.
  Then, one day, we get a call from Vanderbilt that we have reached the top of their waiting list for the Autism Testing and they gave us an appointment. After feeling burned by UAB, I asked if this would be the same deal as UAB offered us: we drag the girl-child through all sorts of testing and poking and prodding just to be told we have to do even more 3 years down the road before we have an actual diagnosis.  They said that was not the case with them and that we would within 2 weeks have not only our actual diagnosis for my girl, but also recommendations for things we could be doing to help her. Sounded wonderful to me! So, as it had been about 4 months or more since UAB was going to start typing their reports up and send them to us, I decided to call and check to see when we could be expecting them.  All were ready except for the report from the psychologist who was about to go on maternity leave. With our Vanderbilt appointment rapidly approaching, I called and asked - no, BEGGED- her to PLEASE dictate her findings so we didn't have to go through the same testing at Vandy.  Finally about a week before we left for Vanderbilt, we got the report.  This turned out to be more important than we knew because the DAY before we were to leave for Vanderbilt, they call us to let us know that our insurance would not pay for any of the testing they were going to do. After hours on the phone it was concluded that our insurance does not cover Autism Spectrum Disorders AT ALL. Seriously. In 2015??? Nope! Not.A.RED.CENT. (Apparently other providers had billed differently, because in two plus years this had not been a problem.) I flipped my wig. We had waiting over two years for this test, had our hotel room booked and paid for, and needed $1500+ the next day. Fortunately, we had the resources to still be able to go, but what if we hadn't? What do people even do who have severely autistic children and wait for years to find out what is going on and then can't afford to get the help they need? I'm very thankful that's not our situation, but the wrong of it all just tears me to bits. So, we headed off to Vanderbilt and acutally had a really great time. Vanderbilt got us a discount on a really nice hotel which shuttled us to the hospital and we were able to make a fun trip out of it. The hospital was GREAT with wonderful staff and it went more smoothly than I could have ever imagined. Vanderbilt was able to use the testing done by UAB and it saved us about half of what we would have had to pay and more importantly saved the girl-child from hours of retesting. Within two weeks, we DID have our diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder; ADHD, Inattentive Type; and Anxiety Disorder. Most of what they recommended we were already doing, but they did suggest she receive Cognitive Behavior Therapy on a weekly basis instead of every six weeks as we had been doing due to the distance from our doctor in Birmingham (She's worth every mile!). It was just such a relief to have the actual confirmed diagnosis and to know that there is an actual physiological reason for some of her struggles. Once the problem is clearly identified, the solution is easier to identify as well! Isn't that what someone taught us in school? Math maybe?

Leaving the hotel the morning of testing and Vanderbilt.
The girl-child wasn't real excited...

  So that puts us where we are today: Social Skills on Monday, Occupational Therapy on Tuesday, after school activity of my daughter's choosing on Wednesday (right now it's a "Gooey Science" class at her school), horse back lessons are for now scheduled for Thursday, and a Girl Scout outing on Friday. We squeeze the cognitive behavior therapy in there somewhere, too. That's just our typical week with no kinks or extra appointments (which we seldom have a week without, but you get the general picture). This is where the essential oils have come in. Not only is my daughter a prime candidate for benefiting from the oils with her anxiety and attention issues (she is the reason I tried them), but with all the stress and hustling, this mama needs to be on top of my game! As I have written in my introductory blog, I by no means seriously think of myself as the Mom Bomb. The majority of the time I am a HOT MESS, I tell you. I am less than well-organized for sure. My phone stays dead half the time and my husband says living with me is like a constant scavenger hunt because we are always searching for where I've left something: my phone, my glasses, the kids (just kidding on that one-they are hard to lose, trust me! ha!). But these oils, y'all! I can breathe again with them. Literally and figuratively. The baby is at long last sleeping through the night meaning I can get up and go to the gym with friends at 5 a.m. I feel healthy and am using the oils instead of the pharmaceuticals that made me feel so sluggish and blah. The oils are a game changer, I tell you. I actually feel like I'm winning for the moment! Or at least staying in the game. I'll talk more about how we are using them in future blogs, but don't worry. This is not going to become "Allison Sells Oils" blog. I still plan to blog about the crazy, the heart-wrenching, and the wonderful things going on in our lives. Until next time!!

My 2 Cents on Suicide

In the wake of Robin Williams's suicide, everyone seems to want to put in their two cents. So here's mine.

Depression is an awful, debilitating disease. I've been there and am not writing this to judge but because I hope someone contemplating ending their own life might read it and it may make a difference. This morning, I heard Henry "The Fonz" Winkler say when people are depressed they can't see what is just outside of their own minds. I think that's pretty well said. I had some serious struggles with depression as a teen and have often been asked what someone could have said to have helped me. I'm not sure that anything could have. Once you are that sick, sick enough to consider suicide, it's hard to believe anything other than what your sickness tells you. However, there are some beliefs and truths you can try to know and hang on to. I hope maybe one of these what I consider truths may stick with someone who falls into depression and may be the thought they cling to while seeking proper help. To me, that's worth all the people I'm about to tick off. My fear is that some depressed teen without some of our life experience sees and hears the media hype and what appears to me to be some making Robin Williams out to be some sort of martyr for depression and they follow suite. I believe he was tormented by depression and I know living with it can feel like hell on Earth. However, suicide is never ok and retweeted quotes about a genie finding his freedom make suicide sound like an acceptable solution. There is danger in that!  We have to remember:

1. God gifts us with life. It is not up to us to decide when to end it. Suicide is sinful. 

2. The family is left wounded for life in a way that can never be healed. They will forever wonder why they weren't enough and what they could have done differently. The children may never feel whole again because of his actions. Suicide is selfish. If I ever have a thought of suicide, I picture my daughter on her wedding day without her mother there. I have no business marring that beautiful day for her. 

3. Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. As The Lord and my mama have reminded me many times, "This too shall pass." But not if you don't let it. Not if you choose to miss out on years of years of joy and laughter and babies and grandchildren all because of a temporary problem or time of pain becoming overwhelming.

4. The world will not mourn your death and remember you like the celebrities. You are not Kurt Cobain, Robin Williams, or Marilyn Monroe. You matter very much to those who love you but seeds in sick minds can grow in strange ways when fed by mental illness. Suicide is not the way to find the love and acceptance you are needing. More likely feelings toward you will be of anger. 

5.Suicide does not always work. Ever see the guy on Oprah who shot himself in the face with a shotgun and lived? You think life is hard now? Try living with permanent disfigurement, brain damage, etc. from an unsuccessful suicide attempt. 

6. Our life is not our own and we are not here for the soul purpose of our own pleasure. My teenage years were rough. I had some pretty miserable times. However, the empathy and "grit" I developed during those times allow me to love and advocate for the special needs child God has blessed me with later in life.There is more to your story than what you are feeling now! 

The Sparks Experience (Part 2)

We arrived for another 8:30 a.m. appointment at the UAB Civitan-Sparks Clinic thinking the day's Psychology portion of the test would be the final portion of my girl child's testing there. We were quite wrong.

The above picture was taken on a brief break from the morning's testing and describes perfectly how we both felt about the day's events.

Just as on our last visit, we only had minutes to wait before being taken back to the testing area, another small room with a table for Presley and her trainee-tester/intern and an observation window for me to watch through as the psychologist (couldn't have been older than mid-20's) asked me questions about myself, our family, Presley's birth, growth and development, etc. The graduate student who had followed us throughout our last visit was there again and it was nice to see a sweet, familiar face. 

The Psychology portion of the test was long (about 3.5 hours) and difficult for my girl-child. The testing including three things she hates: answering questions (a LOT of questions), handwriting, and mathematics (word problems). 

After I answered all of the paychologist's questions, she explained to me what would happen next. Apparently, the two days we have spent at UAB are NOT part of the actual autism testing. The stamp on our schedule last visit that said "On Autism Clinic Waiting List", was an indicator that we are still on the waiting list for the actual autism evaluation by a psychologist who specializes in Autism Spectrum Disorders. That evaluation consists of my girl spending the day mostly playing while being observed by the psychologist, from my understanding. We will be on the waiting list for that to occur for approximately another two years. (WTH??) The testing we have already done will be useful for that evaluation, but is not part of the evaluation itself. The results of the two days' worth of testing we have already done will be presented to me in the Parent Conference scheduled for Aug 4 (in one month). Along with the results of the tests, I will be given recommendations for other places we might look at going if we don't want to wait two years. The tests we have already done may be able to be used elsewhere. So do we put her through all this again just to possibly have to wait there, too? We've already started the processes for testing at Vanderbilt as well, only to start over at UAB, only to be told maybe we should start over again if we don't want to wait two years. My head knows that we are the lucky ones. She is not dying. She is verbal, extremely high functioning and we know what's going on with her even without the official UAB or Vandy (or wherever else) diagnosis. My heart wonders if I have done more damage than good by bringing her to UAB and putting her though all the tests, for what seems to me right now, nothing. 

By the end of the day's testing, my girl was in tears and, watching her through the observation window, seeing her frustration, so was I. Finally, I couldn't take it any more. I knew she had shut down and she wasn't going to be able to answer the last question. I went I to the room with her, helped her through by all but telling her what to write, and we made our exit.

What can you do after a day like that? For us, we decided it was best to chase down a castle we had seen on Pinterest that is located in Birmingham (I LOVE GPS being on my iPhone!)

Next, we hit The Summit for Johhny Rocket's (she is showing her tiredness and relief to be out of UAB in the pic), a Steel City Pop and a movie of her choice, How to Train Your Dragon 2. 

Hopefully, when she looks back on this Summer, she will remember the fun we had afterward and not just all the tests and therapies she endures.

Backward Chaining

One of the most dreaded tasks here at the Wright house has long been the nightly bathing of our girl-child. It has been a major source of frustration for us all. Not only does she hate having to do it (she gets frustrated and quickly loses focus), but it falls at the worst time: the end of the day when everyone is tired from school and work and we are rushing to get everyone fed and bathed, homework done and lunches packed before bedtime while the baby has reached her fussy time and is screaming, causing the dog to start barking and me to want to throw in the towel and move us all to France where we can just splash on the eau de toilet and say to heck with frequent bathing. The easier thing to do is to just bathe her myself, letting her play under the water while I do all the scrubbing and rinsing. But since one of the main points of parenting is to prepare our little ducklings for life on their own, and since I know she is capable of self-care, she has to learn at somepoint snd with the arrival of her baby sister, so came that point. However, we soon found that the harder we pushed her, the more frustrated she (and in turn, we) became and bathtime only got worse, typically ending in her breaking down and her dad or I having to finish bathing her. I mentioned our dilemma to our beloved Dr. Le during one session and she recommended we try something called backward chaining. Basically, it just means breaking down a process into steps and teaching the steps from last to first, one at a time, before moving back to the next step, so that each attempt ends successfully, building confidence with experience. Since each attempt ends on a positive note with praise, the dreaded task becomes less dreaded for all.  Here's how we applied the theory of backward chaining to shower time. 

We broke shower time down into 12 steps. (Looking back now, we probably should have added "get into shower" and maybe reversed steps 1 & 2, but oh well.) 

Having the list written on the shower wall in bathtub crayon (washes off with a little scrubbing) has helped tremendously as my girl-child is a visual learner and also because it takes away the stress of "what comes next?" and helps her to stay focused.

 The first night, I did the first 11 steps for her and then had her turn the water off (step 12). I praised her big and she was proud that she had done well. The next night, I completed the first 10 steps for her and then she rinsed t & b (tootie & booty [step 11]), turned off the water (step 12) and received another big praise. "Hey, this isn't so hard!," we started thinking. We will continue this process, adding in one step each night, until she is doing it all on her own. We were advised to wait until we had mastered just the shower (keep things as simple as possible!) before we made a whole new backward chaining process for the "after shower" tasks of drying off, combing hair, etc. 

 To keep up with our progress and add in motivational rewards along the way , we made the chart below (I'm obviously no artist but it serves its purpose).

We drew the chart in timeline fashion and we work our way back from right to left. After she completes each step, she gets to "take ownership" of it's completion by drawing a picture of choice (checkmark, smiley , etc.) in the box for that step. After each few steps, there is a reward. After the first 5 steps were mastered, we had "UNO Night at the Wright House". After mastering the next 3 steps, she got her choice of a toy, bowling or Zen-Beri yogurt. (Last week was insanely busy so we will have our Zen-Beri date this week and then fill in that box as right now she's still owed that reward.) We are now only 2 steps away from her doing it all by herself. Tonight, I will just turn the water on for her (step 1) and she will do the rest. While I may still have to give her some verbal cues along the way, I will give those less and less each shower as I also reduce my physical proximity during the shower. I've started leaving the room instead of hovering over her and just sticking my head in at times to make sure she is still on task. She will earn a park play date with ice cream for herself and a friend when she completes all 12 steps on her own and when she does the whole shower process on her own 4 times (without verbal cues), she gets the big doozie reward of a trip to her choice of water park. 

 So far, this process has helped us tremendously and I have been excited to share because while it seems so simple now, I never would have thought of it on my own. She no longer goes straight into, "I can't do it"-meltdown mode because she has already done everything  except the 1 new task for the night and she knows it will be a simple one. If we do have trouble with a step, we just try it again the next night and don't get upset about it. The main thing to remember is to keep it positive!

Father's Day Gifting

This will be Father's Day #2 without The Man. They say it gets easier. So far, I still think they are full of it. It does not get easier. It never hurts less, just in a different way that you learn to live with. I still miss everything about my dad every single day. I most especially miss his advice. There are many times when I know exactly what he would tell me to do or not do to (Should I get an anchor tattoo in his memory? Ummmm...NO. I can just hear him telling me that money needs to be spent on my kids), but sometimes, I'm not so sure. I most especially wish I could get his advice on the girl-child and her diagnosis. I wonder if he'd say I was doing the right thing or if I should just let her be. He thought she hung the moon and I'm sure he would have had something to say about the subject. I just wish I knew what.

 Not long before my dad died, we were inspired by a church sermon and afterward had a heart to heart. He told me how proud he was of me. He told me he thought I was doing a great job with the girl-child. I told him how proud I was of him and named all the reasons. Best gifts we ever gave each other, right there.

 I wish I could hear him talk. He loved telling me stories about growing up in Tennessee and about being in the Navy. He use to force anyone who came near our house to watch his old Navy slides on a projector. I wish I could hear or atleast remember every one of those stories now.  

 So for those of you who still have your dads, my advice for you for tomorrow would be to forgo the neckties, golf clubs, etc., or atleast, in addition to those gifts, give your dad what he really wants from you and what you really need to give him:

1. Ask his advice on everything you can think to ask. You will need it later, believe me. Ask him about anything you may think you might ever need to know, just in case. He will be glad to know you value his opinion.

2. Tell him why he's awesome. Or write it.  After we lost Dad, we were going through his desk and found a card I'd given him that told him how much he meant to me. He'd kept it where he kept all his other important documents. I also have the comfort of having had that Sunday afternoon heart-to-heart. It means more to me now to know he knew. 

3. Spend some time with him, listening to whatever he wants to talk about. I don't care if it's politics, the weather or his childhood. Let him talk and hang to every word. 

For those of us without our dads, we will honor them through memories and flowers  but more importantly by living out all that our dads worked so hard to teach us. There is no better gift I could give my dad today than to raise my kids the way he raised me, teaching them to work hard, be honest, and be kind to others.

Happy Father's Day, N.G.! You're still The Man.