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Jellybean Philosophy
My little guy offered me a jellybean a little while ago. It was misshapen, long and tapered, nothing like the bean after which it was named. He held it out without comment, gripped it between two long, double-jointed fingers, and below the hood of his coat his eyes smiled out from behind his red-framed glasses.…
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In Which I Save My Child From A Tarantula, Inflicting Major Psychological Damage on Myself
Caution: This post may be traumatic for arachnophobes. So the other night, there was a spider in baby girl’s room. We live in an old house, you may remember, with cracks and gaps and a dirt basement below and the outdoors all around, and occasionally, crawly things wander in and decide to hang out for…
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The Unremarkable Saga of the Potential Half-Eaten Banana
Baby girl decided she needed a snack before bed tonight. She didn’t want any more of the soup we had for dinner. She didn’t want a sandwich, or one of her Easter eggs. What she wanted was a dark chocolate cookie with dark chocolate filling. I can’t say that I blame her, but she’s been…
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The Autism Awareness Post
The handsome young man to your left is my son, Dylan. This photo was taken a couple days ago as he prepared to go out on a call to assist with a bad car accident. I like how he looks here: confident, relaxed, ready to get out there and help someone. Dylan is a pretty…
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The Migrating Patterns of Winged Canadians, and Other Mysteries
Thing one, as you know, is a lovely combination of brilliant and autistic. If he’s interested in something, he researches the hell out of it, studies it, lives in it. He can tell you everything you want to know about Star Wars, the solar system, Dungeons and Dragons; he knows a whole lot about a…
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Roses are Red, Booty Haiku.
I’m making the minions-I mean the kids-write Springtime haikus today. I hated being told to write a certain way when I was in school, so of course I have to inflict the same torture on them. Baby girl decides to write about catching butterflies and sticking them in a jar. I peek over her shoulder…
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Baby Girl has a Severe Allergy to Pioneer Life, it Seems.
Baby girl and I are discussing books. She’s rather picky about what she reads, preferring fast-paced, adventure-filled books, but with a definite girly focus. “I didn’t like the Little House on the Prairie books,” she says. “I know,” I say. “They weren’t very interesting when you read them before, but you were pretty small. If…
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Where the Hell is Lisa’s Car? Or, How My Kid Kicked Prepositional Ass
There’s a special kind of magic in homeschooling your kids. The closeness you feel as you sit side-by-side reading, the glee that bubbles over along with the lava that pours out from the homemade volcano, the omifuckinggod what was I thinking that goes along with trying to teach anything that isn’t 100% logic-based and static…
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The Pissed-Off Cat Theory of Autism and Education
Take one already cranky cat. Pull its tail until it tries to bite you. Stuff it in a small crate. Spray it with water. Dangle a hot dog in front of its nose, just out of its reach. Spray it again. A bunch, like, till it looks like it got caught in a rain storm.…
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Autism and Oatmeal
My son, thing one, is 13 and has autism-Asperger syndrome, to be exact. Now this isn’t one of those Poor Me posts, or Look How Much I’m Doing for My Wonderful but Challenging Child, or some shit like that. He’s only called autistic because he needed some therapies, and they weren’t covered without an official…
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April Fox 