April is ...

Every day I look out from our building at work up to the scrubby trees and brush growing along the low cliffs that separate downtown from the West Bottoms, looking for signs of life. At last, I see a pale green haze... the first buds and news leaves of spring.

The crabapples, forsythia, pears, daffodils and hyacinth are blooming -- it's supposed to be a beautiful weekend: our first camping weekend of the year.

April around the midwest means spring but it's also Autism Awareness Month. My friend S sent me this e-mail today... her daughter is autistic.


Dear friends and family,
I realize you all are busy with kids, jobs and life...but I have a little thing to discuss with you. It will only take a minute.

April is autism awareness month. I know you are all "aware" of autism because of M, but I just wanted to chat about a few things:
*Although it may be a factor for some kids, we DO NOT think vaccines caused or prompted autism in M's case.
*When you ask questions about her behavior/sleep/words etc. it does not bother us. We prefer that you ask, rather than guess.
*Kids with autism do not understand personal property. So if you have a Coke, M may pick it up and drink it. She's not trying to be rude - she just doesn't process why she can't have it.
*Most kids with autism do not understand facial expressions/social cues/body language. It is like a secret code they can't crack.
*Autism is a neurological disorder.
*Autism occurs 1 in 250 kiddos.

If you want to support autism research , you can go to www.asjck.org, www.autism-society.org, or call me.
If you would like to support a local family with their in-home therapy: Mason's parents are trying to continue in-home therapy due to insurance restrictions. They are selling blue Autism Advocate bracelets (same type as those LiveStrong ones) for $5 each. Let me know if you want one. Mason is in M's communications class.

Please don't feel obligated to spend any money. Just say a prayer that some kind of cure or therapy or cause will be found someday to help these kids achieve all they are capable of.

Thanks for your time!!

My friend Stacie is a tough, wonderful, loving mom and friend. She's like a lot of moms and dads out there -- just trying to help their kids make it in a world that doesn't always make sense. I include this today to honor her and let her know how much I respect her and all she does.

If you want to help Mason's family, let me know. If you want to just donate to the association, you can get a bracelet through the Autism Association website (listed above). And -- at no cost to you-- you can pray. I hope you will.

"A man is powerful on his knees." -Corrie ten Boom

pilgrimage

My church is organizing a trip to Israel in November. T asked me if I had thought of going. He doesn't feel it is "his time" but thinks it could be a life changing event for me.

I don't know. I don't know. When I think about it, I feel fearful which makes me think maybe I should be going, because fear isn't a God thing.
"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind" - 2 Timothy 1:7(NKJV)

All my life I've longed to "go". I love travel, I love history, I love God. This should be a slam dunk decision.

If anyone is out there reading this, I'd like your thoughts. If you pray I'd like those too. I have to decide by April 10.

mellowing with age

Saw my ex yesterday. While running an errand I jumped off the highway to grab lunch (mmm, love eating in the car) and apparently some massive construction project took out the power for the traffic signals in 2 intersections in Roeland Park. Yup, there he was in his utility blues, patrol car lights flashing, directing traffic. Funny, 12 years later I can still tell his mood by how he's moving his arms and hands. Course no one's going to be happy to be a traffic cop in the rain. And he most certainly did not appear happy.

He looked nice though. In a rounder, grayer sort of way. Unmistakable profile. Made me check the mirror to see how I'm holding up. Not bad, I think. Made me also think lots of wistful things, mostly relating to failure and the crystal clear hindsight I now have about that marriage, and me in that marriage. Some of us carry baggage and some of us just stuff it in a closet somewhere because we can't quite bear to part with it.

I hear he's a daddy twice over and belongs to a church now. I've heard people mellow with age.

Even me. Even him.

i am unfashionable

When I was a non-custodial stepmama, I walked round in ignorant bliss of urban fashion, pop music, cell phone couture and conversations involving the use of the word "dawg". I liked that.

Now I know way more than I want to know about Southpole, Marc Ecko, Baby Phat and Enyce. These are what has replaced Abercrombie, American Eagle, etc. in my girl-child's fashion vocabulary. Her migration from preppy surf & skate wear to urban baby-got-back wear is, I know, a product of her new school. Her mother hates it. I worry about it because I don't want her to start acting like something she's not. She's ever one to take on the colors of her surroundings, like a pretty little chameleon. Although in fairness, she's always preferred sporty clothing and these brands do run along those lines.

I just wish she would lead, instead of always following.

I wonder when I became unfashionable?

not really that dark

The blog is looking kind of gloomy lately... I'm not really as grouchy as I appear in print. Actually I'm starting to feel better. More sun, longer days, the promise of spring. I feel like I'm waking up from my long winter's nap. I just realized that Easter is next Sunday. And mushroom season in the midwest is drawing ever nearer -- as is camping season, a prospect that makes me happy and T delirious with joy.

I'm ready for a quiet evening out by a crackling fire with a drink and a marshmallow stick. But this weekend I get to collect up our tax stuff and perhaps even clean out the garage. It's not as bad as the stuff I found here (uh, this stuff makes me dizzy just looking at it) but it's getting to the point where we're ready to start throwing things away. Or setting them afire. Perhaps I can grab my marshmallow stick and a drink and settle down for a nice crackling fire in the driveway.

Nothing makes me feel better like cleaning. How sick is that?

Spring, glorious spring!

for shame

I wish someone would explain to me how removal of a feeding/hydration tube from an incapacitated woman is not murder. How can they look in to her eyes and do that?

I'm not opposed to DNRs for terminal patients but it seems to me that Terri just isn't dying fast enough for her husband's liking.

Disgusting. I can't believe we live in a world that allows this kind of thing.

feel sorry for myself day

Lately I have been feeling like I have a little black cloud over my head. I've been feeling like picking a fight. I've been wishing I could go away. I've been wishing everyone else would go away.

Blog as confessional. Now you are all scandalized.

So what came first? The extra weight or the blues? They feel married in my mind somehow. I'm up to very high 150s again. My pants don't fit. I'm snarling mad ... at myself. Look, I've made myself a little self-loathing stew. mmm, mmm good.

God is either very merciful or really perverse in that He gives us this brand new day, every day. And He lets us decide what to do with it, even if we mess it up. Is He laughing at me or with me? I can't tell.

So how do I get out of this? Start again.

Ah, see? Have I just proved my friend's point? Am I one of those that's never happy unless I'm unhappy? Attention whore? Drama queen? Or perhaps just a silly, self-centered, shallow girl.

So what do we do? Anything. Something. So long as we just don't sit there. If we screw it up, start over. Try something else. If we wait until we've satisfied all the uncertainties, it may be too late.
-- Lee Iacocca

"What's the Matter with Kansas?"

A friend at work loaned me Thomas Frank's book and I've finally finished it, although I have to admit it was sort of a struggle, since even with a journalism degree from Mizzou and an MBA I needed a dictionary to read it. He likes big words and so do I but I think he is trying too hard to look smart, which, quite honestly, I find exhausting.

Frank, from his high, high perch looks down on sad little Kansas. He never admits that he could actually be seen as one of those blue-stater, liberal intellectual elitists that conservative Kansans dislike so much (he has a PhD from the University of Chicago). Since he grew up in the comfortable confines of Prairie Village he probably doesn't know much about one of the only "blue" counties in Kansas -- that would be the home of that NASCAR track he mentions and my current home, Wyandotte County. After all, I can see how the Democratic machine in Wyandotte County has so lovingly served the populace there -- it's one of the poorest counties in Kansas. And this is a county that didn't produce one single Republican mayorial candidate but did manage to yield nine Democrats. He never mentioned any of that. Nor did he menton how the Democratic government happily drifted toward the middle to catch the track and the ensuing economic boom it's providing, all while uprooting roughly 100 families from their homes. Or how the Democratic candidates are currently courting the religious community for the upcoming election.

In truth, some Kansans should probably vote for the Democratic party, since many of these guys are still trying to scrape out a living farming and the Republicans are not farm-friendly. But I guess what I find sad is that Thomas Frank lends no credibilty at all to the idea that social and religious ideals might be more important that economic ones. There are a lot of people here that believe this life is just practice and the part that really matters is what you stand for -- family, God, protecting unborn babies. Thomas Frank thinks this is wrong, I guess. He most assuredly finds it embarrasing. He gets a kick out of laughing at political candidates who mention God, prayer or any divine assistance they may have or may be receiving. I guess if you're smart, you should know better than the believe in God -- or invoke the name of Jesus in public.

He also seems to go way out of his way to describe the Johnson County suburbs in the worst possible light, a practice I don't get, since I do the majority of my shopping in Shawnee. (WYCo has few to no services, although the dreaded NASCAR track for which our Democratic mayor and city council prostituted us is starting to attract a large number of businesses.) He describes a church I used to attend as "ramshackle" (web definition: bedraggled: in deplorable condition; "a street of bedraggled tenements"; "a broken-down fence"; "a ramshackle old pier"; "a tumble-down shack"). I attended church there for a year -- thought it was a pretty nice place.

What I can't fault is the miserable state of small towns everywhere -- not just those in Kansas. Of course, small towns have been in decline for decades, even before the farm crisis of the 1980s. But I would argue that towns are rusting and collapsing because they have no jobs, not because the ones they have don't pay well.

Unfortunately, I'm not smart enough or well-read enough to go toe-to-toe with Mr. Frank and I guess I'm just blowing off some steam here. I'm not going to go so far as to say he's wrong. On some issues he might be very on-target. But what I do know is that for all his research he still doesn't understand that having faith doesn't make you a wingnut and big business and a free market economy didn't create all of the economic ills he describes.

If anyone reads this book, tell me what you think.

40 Days of Purpose revisited

We have officially completed the 40 Day of Purpose group study.

The answer is: I'm doing what I was set here to do only I need to do still more.

I need to be a gentle, loving witness for Christ. I need to keep loving my family, raising the girls. I need to keep keeping my mouth closed and my ears open when other people talk. I need to keep serving, keep worshipping, keep being a friend.

I'm allowed to have fun. Christians can do that, you know? The secret is to remember that fun isn't what it's all about. That helps us get through the bad times but it also helps us appreciate those moments that do come -- the good ones, like snuggling with your family and laughing so hard your stomach hurts. Giving a gift, spending some down time with a book or having dinner with a friend.

This last week I have had some bad moments. I hope they're gone for a while. But when I'm down I still remember -- valleys fill first.

This is the valley that I'm walking through
And if feels like forever since
I've been close to you
My friends up above me don't understand why I struggle like I do
My shadow's my only, only companion and at night he leaves too

Down in the valley, dying of thirst
Down in the valley, it seems that I'm at my worst
My consolation is that you baptize this earth
when I'm down in the valley, valleys fill first

Down in this wasteland I miss the mountaintop view
but it's here in this valley that I'm surrounded by you
Though I'm not here by my will
it's where your view is the most clear
so I'll stay in this valley it takes 40 years
And it's like that long Saturday your death and the rising day
When no one wrote a word, wondered is this the end
But you were down there in the well, saving those that fell
Bringing them to the mountain again.

-Caedmon's Call

manicurious

Last night as my friend and I wandered the mall (another old friend voting for the semi-drama queen description, dear me) we went in to Aveda. Aveda was pretty hoppin' -- there were makeup consultations and hand massages going on all over the place. The consultant asked if I'd like a hand massage and I declined, self-conscious about my gnarly hands, broken nails and ... well ... being touched. I love hugs. I live for T to brush back a strand of hair or touch my cheek. I wait a long time for those things to happen because they don't often. But the longer I live my life the more I find myself shrinking back from being touched by other people! It's so strange, I feel such a rush of gratitude and relief when someone does but I have become very shy about expressing that one need out loud. And that is such a lonely feeling. Hard shells are neat for M&Ms, not not people. The other day a co-worker and I were discussing manicures. At first he joked about how he and another friend should hire a manicurist to come at 4:30 a.m. to the hotel we were at (I am decidedly not a morning person). Then we saw a place in the mall we were at and he kept saying "let's just go look". I refused. I don't even know why. I'm manicurious -- but afraid to be touched. Lonely but mostly unhugged. Would love a massage, a pedicure, a facial -- but intimidated by people in my space. I kept the raincheck from Aveda. One day soon I plan to use it.

confessions of a grown up drama queen

Someone told me last night that I was a drama queen. According to this highly scientific quiz, I test out at 50%, which means (surprise, surprise) I can be OK sometimes and highly emotional at other times. It's a little roller coaster in my brain.

A part of me refutes the "drama queen" title because other people who act this way drive me crazy. But then again, I do sometimes seem to be in a kind of maelstrom and there's no doubt that I can be an attention whore. Not Anna Nicole Smith-extreme but, baby, you better not forget my birthday. And yes, I have a pink sparkly Sleeping Beauty Princess tiara on my computer.

This friend also told me I gave up having a normal life when I opted not to have children and that I'm not being challenged intellectually. And some other painful stuff I won't repeat.

That's the great thing about a real friend. They can leave you bleeding on the floor but you know they still love you.