tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20506876728656263042024-03-12T23:34:00.048-04:00A few clowns short of a circusA blog about my family and our madcap hijinksUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger465125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-57008218660717164622014-01-30T09:13:00.003-05:002014-01-30T09:13:44.882-05:00Chilly DCan spring get here sooner than scheduled please? I'm kinda tired of wearing leggings under sweatpants, huge thick socks, long sleeved tees and heavy hoodies and still being freezing cold!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-82445980255775513682014-01-28T04:59:00.003-05:002014-01-28T04:59:51.417-05:00Pete SeegerI woke to the news that Pete Seeger passed last night. <br />
As a child who's formative years were in the 1970's I grew up listening to Pete Seeger on vinyl. His music for children evokes some of the warmest childhood feels I have.<br />
I remember listening to his records while swinging in the hammock my dad had up in the living room.<br />
This song in particular was one of my favorites to sing with my dad. He would play his guitar and we would sing together acting out the parts (jump, tip toe, roll along)<br />
Thank you Mr. Seeger for all the wonderful music you gave us.<br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zp9ePiLMAhY">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zp9ePiLMAhY</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-34415259064390608432014-01-24T17:36:00.000-05:002014-01-24T18:00:23.088-05:00HibernationI've gone into a modified cyber hibernation again. I do this every once in a while to clear my head and get my soul straight.<br />
I've put Twitter, Instagram & Facebook on lock down. It's going to be a while till I post on any of them again.<br />
<br />
Not to get too deep and lola granola but really who gives a fuck? Who truly, honestly cares about the shit I spew forth in a rapid fire fashion every day? I'm not asking who cares about me as a person, I'm asking does anyone really care about all the updates and pictures I post?<br />
<br />
I can guarantee you they do not. Likewise I'm not really sure I care about the part your kid got in the school play or to peruse your photos of your last family vacation. <br />
So why bother?<br />
<br />
We as humans are so involved with our own lives and our own shit that when you disappear hardly anyone notices.<br />
Social Media is the perfect platform to indulge our highly narcissistic ways. Let me talk about me and tell you what I think about what you are doing.<br />
I understand that we all desperately want to matter. We want to count, we want to be noticed. I do too. Believe me. Trying so hard to remain relevant and fun gets exhausting though. <br />
<br />
I realize my life just ain't that exciting and nobody really gives a shit if I'm at school dropping off the kids or if I killed it at Boot Camp today. Nobody wants to hear that we are home with the flu or that we are off to Disney World.<br />
<br />
People are just too involved with their own stuff to care if I'm there or if I'm gone. It has been over 48 hours since my last post and I GUARANTEE you, I am not missed. My contact info is in my profile. Both my email and my phone number. Everyone who knows me knows my husband. I will be totally shocked if anyone tries to check in on me. (and not because they have read this but truly because they miss me)<br />
<br />
Don't think these words are coming from self pity or depression. They aren't. They are simply facts to be accepted the same way you would accept my telling you that I am not a natural blonde. <br />
<br />
Without my social media "friends" I will be in silence most of the day. I do not have people I talk to on the phone, do not have friends that I text daily. Aside from the throw away polite conversations I have at school and at boot camp I do not talk to people. I look forward to this solitude. <br />
<br />
I will be changing my routines. Getting up before the sun to get to an early boot camp each morning. There is something very rewarding at being done with a daily workout before the rest of the world has even brushed their teeth.<br />
<br />
I will not spend as much of my day on the computer or checking my phone as I did before. There is no need. <br />
I will be reading books, training for my upcoming kettlebell certification and then competition. I will be applying for and studying like a fiend to pass my personal trainer certificate course. <br />
<br />
I will be rewriting my business plan for my company and hunting down a new commercial kitchen to work from. I will be focusing back on my Disney Vlogs & getting them out there again. I will be inspired by myself daily, finding validation and encouragement from me alone, not worrying about being cool or thinking of something funny to say.<br />
<br />
Will I have moments that I want to share? Sure I will, LOTS of them. We are leaving for Disney World in 16 days. It will be odd not posting one status update, not foursquaring my location, not posting hundreds of photos from the parks. It will be strange not checking Facebook on the bus ride back to the hotel. I think that I will survive though. <br />
<br />
Funny. As I'm typing this blog I got this email from Facebook.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3BI4Gm9zRCXly5wwl7fy_L0QQ7pGnMV-RuK1gxlbeaAh7Rq_ebvssuw5gBmlT28-iQZIGWPLvCm1BRYiy6NLItjC6DmxzGZq6zNgkEkmwI28cQo_ELrD1fbnUzdeT8l9azuGzInSJGH4/s1600/IMG_2367.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3BI4Gm9zRCXly5wwl7fy_L0QQ7pGnMV-RuK1gxlbeaAh7Rq_ebvssuw5gBmlT28-iQZIGWPLvCm1BRYiy6NLItjC6DmxzGZq6zNgkEkmwI28cQo_ELrD1fbnUzdeT8l9azuGzInSJGH4/s1600/IMG_2367.PNG" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
Clearly life on the internet rolls on...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-7660105787083073252013-04-01T20:24:00.001-04:002013-04-01T20:24:52.498-04:00LionApril is Autism Awareness month!! <br />
We kicked it off with a serious bang around here. <br />
<br />
Took the pups to Boot Camp today & though he appeared excited it quickly became clear Bri did not want to be there. (Not uncommon that his mood does not align with what he's feeling) <br />
He got dark & broody & set his sights on Patrick. (Also not uncommon) hitting him, yelling at him, telling him he wished he didn't have a brother & eventually escalated to biting him on the back. (A behavior I thought we were done with) it was a very rough morning that came to a head with a super angry Bri yelling at a stranger on the street "ugly old lady get out of my way". <br />
<br />
This is my life. It's not every day but on the days he gets like this he is completely unable to self regulate. He cannot calm himself down, has no self control & only wants to hurt everyone around him.<br />
<br />
He cannot be reasoned with & I found myself this morning bopping back & forth between trying to get him to calm down & reassuring PJ that his brother did indeed love him. <br />
<br />
These days come with no warning & have no way to resolve them a second before he is ready. <br />
<br />
Boot Camp kicked my ass physically but Lion exhausted my soul today. <br />
<br />
I do not think I can trust him at the 9am class tomorrow morning. <br />
<br />
I will still make it to class but it will be the 8pm class tomorrow night.<br />
<br />
Never a dull moment around hereUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-52637823656568138142012-07-21T08:41:00.000-04:002012-07-21T08:41:13.259-04:00July 23rd,2007<h2 class="post-title">
The death of a friend</h2>
How can this be?<br />It wasn't supposed to happen like this lady.<br />Not this young. Not now. Not ever but really not now.<br />She was my sister, my mother and my best friend, my partner in crime. <br />If you had told me when we were 12,13,14,15 that she was going to die before the age of 35 I would have called you a liar. <br />I just can't seem to wrap my head around the fact that she's not here anymore.<br />We
used to joke with each passing birthday that we needed walkers with
racing stripes and Geritol and now I'm really going to be the only one
who will need them because she's not going to get any older.<br />I
just...I'm sitting here sobbing remembering all the giddy stupid nights
we spent at her dad's place getting ready to go to some show or some
club.<br />Remembering how much she loved life and how everyone around
here was affected by her. Not one person got away unscathed. EVERYONE
knew she was a special lady and love her or hate her you were changed
after having met her.<br />We haven't been close in recent years and I've missed her. <br />She never met Brian my youngest son and really only saw PJ when he was a small fry.<br />When
I talk about her thought I still call her my best friend beacuse to me
she is. There will never be another Chrissy. No one will ever take her
spot as my best friend.<br />I have a vault of memories that were just she and I. No one else shared them and now I'm the only one.<br />If
I mention Round up Ranch and the lost sweatshirt not one of you will
get it but she would. If I yelled "Squidlinks" you wuold all look at me
weird but she would crack up laughing.<br />If I said to you "Say it with flowers" you would think of FTD but she and I had a whole nother meaning for it.<br />The list goes on and on and on.<br />She and I knew each other for 30 years. Since 2nd grade. That's a hell of a long time and a hell of a lot of history.<br />I'm gonna miss you girl like nobodys business. <br />I'm not sure what I'm going to do in this world knowing you aren't in it anymorUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-33913600216927000922012-07-21T08:39:00.001-04:002012-07-21T08:39:28.947-04:00July 26th, 2007<h2 class="post-title">
You</h2>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Your death has consumed me. It's overwhelmed me.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"> It's like a blanket and I'm smothering.<br />The loss is too great. My heart is too heavy. <br />I cannot come to grips that you are gone.<br />I have no memory of a time without you. You were always in my life. <br />We were friends for 30 years. That's a hell of a long time. Everywhere I look I see you. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">The love that is being shown for you is overwhelming.</span></div>
<div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">The lives that you touched, the people you made better for just knowing them.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">You would be pleased and embarrassed at all the fuss being made over you. I know you would.</span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Everytime
I close my eyes I see you. You are so beautiful, so strong, so
confident. You always were. From my first memory of you in school at
age 3 or 4 I remember you as a presence. A force, a leader. A kind
soul.<br />I almost feel like your life has been split in two parts. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Those
of us who knew you in the past and friendships faded and those who know
you now. It's strange. I miss you for what you were, for the child,
girl and woman I remember. The best friend. The girl who would sit in
the back of my dad's car on the way to the club and be as giddy and giggly as a schoolgirl and when we got to the club we would do what my
dad named the</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"> "fuck you strut". </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I can't do it anymore. I've tried but
I've lost my superpower. I guess it was your attitude and energy I was
feeding off of.<br />I remember there was one random night in an unnamed
club and I found a boy I thought was cute. We all went to a diner and
all of a sudden he was sitting next to you. Since you and I were so very
different in looks I asked him what was up. (It was a safe bet most
nights that if a boy liked the tall leggy brunette he wasn't gonna want
the short platinum blonde) I can hear his words as if he just spoke them
he said "You're cute but she has a certain something. There's an energy
about her. A presence"<br />He was right ya know. You do. Everyone saw it and felt it.<br />I
think the part of it all that bugs me the most is that we lost each
other. We disconnected for a while but I never gave it too much thought
because I knew no matter how far apart we were or how much time went by I
could always call you and just say "Hey" and you would know who it was.<br />If I'd had a crystal ball I would have tried harder to be more of a part of your everyday life. <br />For that I don't think I will ever forgive myself. <br />I
almost feel that because we weren't close in recent times I don't have
the right to mourn you this intensely and with this heavy a heart. But I
can't help it. You were my oldest and my closest friend. How many
secrets do you take to the grave with you lady? How many late night
therapy sessions?<br /> </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Yesterday
when I got the news it rained all day. It never once let up. Today I
wanted to wake up feeling better, with a new perspective, a sence of
peace and solitude but I never slept last night so all the things I
felt yesterday have carried over into today.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">There
is this huge hole in the world today and as I look out my window I see
the world going on as normal around me but for me it's stopped. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I
look at my kids as they are playing together (okay beating each other
up) and I envy them that they don't know the feeling of their
heartbreaking yet. They don't understand loss of this magnitude. They
cry because the truck they want is just out of reach. I'm crying
because I'm never gonna see you again.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I'm drowning...</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-55395159005450894292012-07-21T08:36:00.003-04:002012-07-21T08:36:57.556-04:00I think I've got it now<div class="post-title">
<br /></div>
<div class="post-title">
A blog I'd written about Chrissy shortly after her death in 2007 </div>
<div class="post-title">
<br /></div>
<div class="post-title">
I think I know what it was about her. What made her special and stand out from the rest.</div>
<article class="post-body">
She was the epitome of cool. She could take anything and rock it. She
was so amazingly versatile in her ways and was always reinventing
herself.<br />
When she was a glam kid, she took it and lived it 100%. From polka
dots to pigtails, from lunchboxes to lollypops, it was all her.<br />
She did Goth for a while and managed to make the most beautiful Goth
Chick I think I'd ever seen. If you never got a chance to see her in
black Vinyl then I'm sorry because you missed a heavenly vision.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
When she went
Rockabilly it was like she was born in the 1950's. She never went repro;
it was true blue vintage for her all the way and nothing less.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
When you were with her,
she made you feel special and cool. Like there was always a velvet rope
around you and you were a living breathing VIP room.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
She was elegant and
refined and classy and smart. Wise beyond her years and talented. She
loved life. She never let anything stand in the way of what she wanted.
She lived on her terms. If you were lucky to be there for the ride, you
were family. If not, get out of her way because she would have run you
over.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
She was one of those few individuals who truly understood the saying "life every day as though it's your last" She always did.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I always felt a bit in
awe of her. As a teenager, trying to figure out who I was and where I
fit in she never did. She always knew exactly who she was and who she
was going to be. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
She was a leader, if
she had wanted to start her own religion I believe getting a flock
together wouldn't have been difficult for her. People wanted to be
around her. They listened to what she had to say and emulated her in
fashion and style. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Even now at the tender
age of 34 I still find myself asking "Would Chrissy think this is cool?"
and on nights out I've been known to email her photos of outfits for
her thumbs up or down.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
She could make anyone a friend. All she had to do was smile at you. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I always wondered if
there was much she couldn't do? She was a published author, world
traveler, talented horsewoman, she could draw, paint, sew, sing and tell
me she wasn't truly gifted with a makeup brush.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
She was always up for anything and loved to be spontaneous.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
With her, you never quite knew what the day would bring.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I'm going to miss that. </div>
<br />
</article>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-31521578024926153382012-07-21T01:42:00.003-04:002012-07-21T01:42:43.526-04:00New CameraIt happened again. Hubs leaves for Atlantic City & I get silly with the camera.<br />
Actually, tonight there was a legit reason for the camera play. I got a brand new camera & wanted to see how it looks...You can see how my night progressed.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-85197481862855941252012-07-05T09:47:00.001-04:002012-07-05T09:47:36.661-04:00Who I am...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
<br />
On Tuesday my father took the pups & I to the Paramus Park Mall here in NJ to do the once a month <a href="http://stores.lego.com/en-us/Paramus/events.aspx">Lego Store free build.</a> <br />
We coordinated it with one of Pats classmates who is also a Lego freak. He met us there with his grandmother & aunt.<br />
We all went out to dinner together after & had a great time.<br />
<br />
Today at school, the boys mom told me that her son had a fantastic time and that her mother said<br />
"Diana is so nice & so NORMAL"<br />
<br />
This of course cracked me up as did the face the mother made when she relayed this to me.<br />
<br />
I am no stranger to this reaction & truth be told, it never fails to delight me.<br />
<br />
I LOVE decimating first impressions. <br />
<br />
I look in the mirror & I see me. I see a woman who knows exactly who she is & is comfortable not being normal or mainstream. I also know that I'm a well educated, intelligent, kind, compassionate, trusting, open person who would be an asset to anyone who wanted to add me to their collection of friends or acquaintances.<br />
<br />
I am however, quite aware that my appearance can be confusing & if you were to judge me based only on how I look, I suppose I might fit into a typical stereotype of being uneducated, uniformed, angry, unhappy, rebellious and anti establishment. I suppose you might think I do drugs or drink and spend time out partying away from my kids.<br />
<br />
Would it surprise you to know that I've never ever done a drug in my life stronger than the Morphine they gave me at the hospital when I had the boys?<br />
Would you be shocked if I told you I don't drink booze & I'm not a recovering alcoholic?<br />
Would your head fall off if I told you my Friday & Saturday nights are spent cruising Pintrest?<br />
How would you react if I told you we are Disney Vacation Club members with Season Passes & we go to Disney World two or three times a year?<br />
<br />
I'm not actually sure WHAT people think when they see me. I do know my appearance (while to me is really REALLY toned down and dialed back) is confusing to some & it causes snap judgements that are almost always wrong.<br />
<br />
Yes, I'm a 39 year old mother who carries a Hello Kitty purse. Yes, those are pink extensions in my hair. Yup. My converse have glitter on them. Yes, my nails are bright green. Why yes! That IS a skull on my shirt. Absolutely. That is a real tattoo. <br />
<br />
Stop. Take a deep breath. This is my shell. This is my outside & not what counts. I look the way I look because it is how I am comfortable. Because I am comfortable with me, I am happy. Because I am happy, I am able to be a well adjusted, "normal" adult.<br />
<br />
There is a fantastic line from a song that I've carried with me since I first heard it"Who I am and what you think of me just might not be the same"<br />
<br />
Come have a conversation with me. Get to know me. I'm rather certain you will find I am none of the things you think that I am.<br />
<br />
I spent so much time as a kid trying to be like everyone else. Trying to fit in & be something I wasn't. The harder I tried, the more rejection I came up against.<br />
<br />
By age 13 who I was was firmly in place & established. I have never spent another day uncomfortable with who I am.<br />
<br />
I know lots of you think "You are 39, it's time to grow up".<br />
My own husband tells me that every single time I threaten to dye my whole head pink again. <br />
<br />
But I AM grown up. I'm a kick ass mommy, raising two awesome boys. WHY can't I be a good mom AND have fun colored hair? Because YOU think there is a cut off age for the things I love?<br />
<br />
My own mother was outraged when my hair was hot pink.<br />
I was the mother of two little boys. Having pink hair was IRRESPONSIBLE.<br />
<br />
Really
mom? Funny, I thought teaching my kids that they should be who they are
and rock it (whatever it turns out to be) loud and proud actually makes
me a very responsible parent. If you can't love who you are, you won't
ever be able to love anyone else.<br />
Would having a full tattoo sleeve make me any less of a grownup? Would a lunchbox for a purse suddenly cause me to be unable to carry on an adult conversation?<br />
<br />
Of COURSE not. It all goes back to that whole compartmentalizing thing we humans like to do. You go here, this behavior ends on this birthday, you can't wear this past this age.<br />
<br />
Any of you know how old the AMAZING Patricia Field is? She is 71 years old.<br />
The amazing Vivenne Westwood is the same age. Betsy Johnson is 70.<br />
<br />
There is NO cut off age on being true to who you are.<br />
<br />
I'm teaching my kids to be kind to all & reserve their judgements on most. To see people for what's on the inside & not the outside. <br />
<br />
The point here? Don't go by first impressions. They are so often wrong.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-50084908018168350072012-06-26T15:17:00.002-04:002012-06-26T15:17:57.517-04:00Summertime & the livin is easy...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/d7ENPQzlUpY?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
Clearly Lady Holiday didn't have kids. (though the part about Ma being good looking is dead on)<br />
I had enrolled both kids in the summer program being offered by the schools.<br />
Pats was in from 8:30 to 2:30 & Lion was in from 8:30 to 12:30.<br />
<br />
Today was day 2 of the program & Lion decided he was done, done, done.<br />
<br />
We did the same thing last year but I forced him to stay in & the whole month was crap. I'm not doing it again this year. He told me in no uncertain terms he did not want to be there, and so I've pulled him out.<br />
<br />
Okay, at least I still have one kid in for the summer. I can handle one at home.<br />
<br />
We go to pick up the big son & HE tells me he's done, done, done. The only reason he wanted to be in the program was because they offered a Lego building course. It's not on his schedule & it's not being offered.<br />
<br />
He was actually crying on the walk home because he doesn't want to go back.<br />
<br />
I'm not going to force my kids to go to a summer program. That seems cruel. Summers are supposed to be fun!<br />
<br />
So, I went from having 4 free hours each day to get errands & things done, to having the next 71 days straight with the kids.<br />
<br />
I will survive this. We will have a good time together. We will go to the park & we have an annual pass to the NY Zoological Parks so we can hit up zoos & museums. <br />
<br />
Somehow I feel I will turn out to be excellent blog fodder.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-91110770394581909842012-06-25T11:34:00.002-04:002012-07-05T09:59:57.132-04:00Living with Autism<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
(rough draft blog - will be going back & editing this)<br />
<br />
Our society loves labels, and compartmentalizing. It makes us feel safe and comfortable to have someone explained to us in 5 words or less.<br />
<br />
If I had to label my kids I'd tell you that my older son Patrick (Pats) is funny, kind, smart, curious & wise beyond his 8 1/2 years.<br />
<br />
My younger guy Brian is 7 & a bit harder to describe than his brother. Certainly he's got lots of his brothers traits, he too is funny, smart, curious & more often than not kind but he's way more complex than his brother.<br />
<br />
When Bri was 2 1/2 he was diagnosed as being a distinguished member of the club known as<br />
<br />
"Kids on the Autism Spectrum."<br />
<br />
Since that's a mouthful we've shortened it & just call them<br />
<br />
"Special Needs Kids"<br />
<br />
When he was first diagnosed I never felt sorrow or anger. I felt relief. I KNEW there was something going on with my little guy & it finally had a name.<br />
<br />
I didn't tell people at first. Of course I told my family but when we met people in the park, or folks we hadn't seen in a while, I kept his diagnosis to myself.<br />
<br />
I didn't want him to be labeled or compartmentalized. I didn't want him to be put in that box & have people see him nothing more than a Special Needs Kid.<br />
<br />
I didn't want people to pity either he or I. I wanted them to see him for all the amazing super cool qualities he had, not only what he was lacking.<br />
<br />
Then we planned our first Disney trip where he had to sit in his own seat & not on my lap & the second I tried to strap him in his seat he exploded.<br />
<br />
I cannot even describe the tantrum to you. It was like...what? A grenade going off? A bag of super pissed off hornets? A "Housewives of New Jersey" reunion?<br />
<br />
He thrashed & howled and railed against that seat belt as though it was on fire. We actually delayed the plane being pushed from the gate because I couldn't get him to stay in his seat.<br />
<br />
I truly thought we were going to get kicked off the plane. When we landed I made a beeline to the bathroom in the airport & cried.<br />
<br />
I cried because I knew people didn't get what they were seeing. I cried not because they were judging me, but because they all had the wrong label on my kid. Their label said "spoiled little brat" when that wasn't at all what he was. He was a little guy who was still struggling with speech, had sensory issues & the only way he knew to get his point across, to let me know how he was feeling was to tantrum.<br />
<br />
I realized that I needed to take a deep breath, put on my big girl panties & start sharing his diagnosis with people so they could better understand what they were seeing & hopefully with that understanding, they would be kind & patient with us.<br />
<br />
I hopped on the internet to see what other spectrum parents did in situations where the potential for big melt downs or inappropriate behavior loomed large.<br />
<br />
Not much out there. Lots of parents lending sympathetic ears but not much in the way of advice & in fact, more often than not what I saw was parents discussing the confrontations & fights they would get into with other parents or the general public who made snide, unwanted remarks or unfairly judged the situation without all the facts.<br />
<br />
I decided I was not going to go that route. By nature I have a huge mouth, sarcastic wit & I'm quick to defend but I'm never one to look for confrontation. I will always do what I can to diffuse a situation before I go to battle. (of course, if you bring a war to me, you need to fear the consequences because I have a very very vicious streak in me and will show no mercy to those that mess with my offspring)<br />
<br />
I looked to a favorite Lyndon Johnson quote & made it the backbone for how we dealt with ignorance.<br />
<br />
"If we are to live together in peace, we must come to know each other better."<br />
<br />
Lion & I were going to be Autism Ambassadors & we were going to be as loud & proud about it as we could.<br />
<br />
The trouble with Autism & the Spectrum Disorders is that it very often does mimic the behavior of a spoiled brat. So often Brian's tantrums look like nothing more than a child having a really really intense temper tantrum. ( Other Spectrum parents can tell the difference at 50 paces because once you know what one looks like, you know how different it is than other tantrums)<br />
<br />
We were on a Disney trip, & Pats & my husband wanted to go on Splash Mountain. Brian was too little to go & so we sat on a bench to wait. As we wanted Brian got more and more agitated till we were in a full blown no holds barred melt down. Hitting, kicking, scratching, biting, trying to run away, screaming, crying. <br />
<br />
I have always taken a zen approach to his tantrums, realizing that my only role is to keep him safe from himself & from others (and these days keep others safe from him!) but that I cannot not reason with him, cannot not bribe him, cannot not soothe him, & cannot redirect him. I must wait the storm out.<br />
<br />
I also tend to zone other people out during these tantrums. My focus is only on him & blocking punches, deflecting kicks, keeping chairs & other objects out of his reach & I don't care how it looks to you or your grandmother that I have my kid in an arm lock or that I'm physically restraining him. Trust me, you do NOT want me to let him go.<br />
<br />
So I'm sitting on a bench, at the happiest place on earth, attempting to contain a hurricane & I glance up to see we've gathered a crowd. People staring plus undercover Disney Security.<br />
<br />
I managed a weary smile and said in a loud voice <br />
<br />
"This is Autism folks"<br />
<br />
First time I ever told a stranger what they were seeing, and I remember feeling really proud of myself.<br />
<br />
I quickly realized that I couldn't chase after him like a crazy mom<br />
<br />
"Hi, sorry, did he bite your son? He's on the Autism Spectrum" <br />
<br />
"Hey, how you doin? He hit your daughter with a toy truck? Sorry, he's on the Autism Spectrum" <br />
<br />
"Did he throw sand at your child? A million apologies, he's on the Autism Spectrum"<br />
<br />
EXHAUSTING.<br />
<br />
I decided that not every single infraction needed to be explained away. I would assess the situation & if it was less than dramatic, an apology alone would do. <br />
<br />
After all there was still the part of me that wanted folks to see Bri for the amazing kid he was & not just "that special needs kid"<br />
<br />
Bri does not have "classic Autism" he's been diagnosed as PDD-NOS.<br />
<br />
PDD-NOS stands for Pervasive Developmental Disorder-Not Otherwise Specified. Psychologists and psychiatrists sometimes use the term “pervasive developmental disorders” and “autism spectrum disorders” (ASD) interchangeably. As such, PDD-NOS became the diagnosis applied to children or adults who are on the autism spectrum but do not fully meet the criteria for another ASD such as autistic disorder (sometimes called “classic” autism) or Asperger Syndrome.<br />
<br />
The two main characteristics of the disorder are difficulties with social interaction skills and communication.<br />
<br />
Brian struggles with both on a grand scale.<br />
<br />
My friend Sarah gave him the nickname "The Raptor" because he appears cute & harmless but attacks with startling viciousness & no remorse. <br />
<br />
I have always refused to put my kids in a bubble & put Brian in as many "typical" social situations as I can.<br />
<br />
The world is going to have to learn to get along with him, & he's going to have to learn to get along with the world. <br />
<br />
After school each day weather permitting, we hit the playground. <br />
<br />
Every day at least one, but usually more than one child comes to me to tell me Brian has hit, spit at, kicked, slapped, smacked or otherwise insulted a fellow playground goer & he has broken the unwritten playground code of conduct.<br />
<br />
I always make Bri apoligize & I apologize. At this point, most parents know Bri is special needs so no explanation is necessary.<br />
<br />
Once in a while however, we venture to a playground that is not at school, a general park playground & true to form, Bri will at some point insult or hurt some fellow kid. <br />
<br />
As I mentioned before, the infraction will determine how I handle the situation.<br />
<br />
My boys are really protective of each other but the difference between them is that my older guy is not a scrapper. He would rather get in your grill & tell you to back up & make a few mock charges before he throws down. He won't let you mess with his little brother but he's going to warn you & come to me to tell me what's going on before he gets violent.<br />
<br />
If Brian feels that anyone has disrespected or insulted his big brother in any way at all, he's going to kick some ass. He's strong, fast & fearless. If you piss him off, you are going to leave that battle bruised & worse for wear. <br />
<br />
True to his nickname "The Raptor" you won't see it coming & if you don't know him, you don't know that side of him.<br />
<br />
I however, know him, & his triggers & feel it's my job to try to stay one step ahead of him to attempt to keep the playground from turning into a "Sharks" vs "Jets" kind of an atmosphere. I try to keep the street rumbles to a minimum. <br />
<br />
I refuse to helicopter parent. I will not follow him around but always have an eye on him & I'm very tuned into the kids he's playing with & how Bri will react to the type of play they are engaged in. <br />
<br />
I'm always on the edge of the bench ready to spring into action.<br />
<br />
Much of the time I can anticipate how he will react & can redirect or diffuse before it escalates. Recently a kid kicked my older son. I saw it coming & was able to get between Bri & the other kid before a brawl started. I dragged Bri away as he was screaming <br />
<br />
"You JERK!! YOU BULLY! NO ONE kicks my brother!"<br />
<br />
I was able to redirect him to the swings & he got happy & forgot about that other kid.<br />
<br />
Often though, I'll redirect but he won't forget. He will spend the whole time with the new activity plotting the other kids untimely demise & the second I let him go back to free play he will make a B line for that kid and blind sight him.<br />
<br />
When this happens, I go into damage control mode. I immediately make Bri apologize to the child, & then I apologize to the child & explain that Brian is on the Autism Spectrum & his social skills aren't quite what they should be. I explain that the brothers are really protective of each other & if Bri thinks his big brother is being hurt or disrespected in any way, even in the course of innocent play he's going to come after you, claws & paws.<br />
<br />
I ask them to please be patient & to come and tell me if he misbehaves. <br />
<br />
I have found, that more often than not, this works for us. When you understand what you are up against, or what you are dealing with, it makes it easier to understand & deal with.<br />
<br />
I have seen kids go from aggressive play tone it down & play in a much kinder fashion after I tell them about Bri.<br />
<br />
Girls especially. Girls love to be put in charge & mother Bri. <br />
<br />
Playgrounds are public spaces & I want everyone to just get along & be happy. My kids have as much of a right to be there as yours do but they do not have the right to run roughshod over yours & I will NEVER use his diagnosis as an excuse. It will only be an explanation.<br />
<br />
This year was an especially difficult one for Bri & if you go back in this blog you can read all about it. <br />
<br />
Brian's temper at this point is legendary. It takes almost zero to piss him off & he will go from darling happy child to wrecking havoc like Carrie at the Prom.<br />
<br />
When he gets angry, he wants to make everyone around him as miserable & unhappy & will attack & strike out at everyone around him.<br />
<br />
The last great blow up we had, thankfully I was there for & it involved him picking up a very heavy text book and throwing it at a classmate, and then picking it up again and throwing it at her again.<br />
<br />
That one made me nauseous. I actually went & got a little gift for that poor girl & Brian picked out an "I'm sorry" card & we signed it and found her on the playground the next day & gave it to her along with a hug, and an apology from me.<br />
<br />
Will he ever outgrow this? Will I ever get to stop explaining & apologizing? I have no idea.<br />
<br />
We try to take it one day at a time & never lose our sense of humor around here.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-23154230027423135102012-02-20T02:17:00.001-05:002012-02-20T02:17:16.534-05:00New me...Took my new hair color and decided to try some makeup styles I haven't worn in years. Namely blue eyeshadow...I think I like it. I mean, I know I like it. It's just that it's been a few years (27 to be exact) since I attempted to rock blue eyeshadow. The kids went to sleep and Mike is down in Atlantic City so I had some fun with the camera...<br />
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My concern is that I think I look cool but in reality I look like this:<br />
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What do you think?<br />
Too much? Go for it?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-15319490642112690182012-02-18T20:50:00.000-05:002012-02-18T20:50:39.383-05:00Got my hair did...My pal Acey Slade who is one of the most bestest, most sweetest guys ever is living a duel life. He's a super talented musician and has now gone into the world of hair. Last April I went to him for a cut and then, as I typically do I got lazy and it took me almost a full year to go back. This time though, I wanted a drastic change. I wanted to go blonde and so we did. Spent an afternoon with him transforming my hair from this:<br />
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to this:<br />
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I love love love it.<br />
It's my ultimate goal to get back to here:<br />
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which is a pure white platinum (and I'd even do the purple again).<br />
We have to be careful though, or rather I have to sit on my hands because I HATE roots.<br />
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I hate them like a cat hates to take a bath. The second I see them, I want to cover them up and eliminate them. Let's be honest. If Kate Moss can't make them attractive, what hope do I have of not looking like total trash when they start to poke through?!<br />
Of course, grabbing the peroxide and doing my own hair every week or two has serious consequences and I never want to rock this look ever again:<br />
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It should be noted that this photo was taken on my 17th birthday at Tavern on the Green. Classy bitches we were...<br />
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I need to learn to make peace with brown roots and understand that I will have to live with them.<br />
I've made an appointment with Acey to do a touch-up in a month but I have a feeling I'm going to be calling him before that. (He actually told me if I need to move the appt a week in either direction to just call)<br />
<br />
I'm so excited for my new hair!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-76753931095468142992012-01-17T13:46:00.002-05:002012-01-17T13:46:43.468-05:00Yesterday I went to speak with the owner of a new bakery in Hoboken about renting her kitchen. She proposed $100 for three hour blocks of time after hours. This would work for me, only if I could guarantee orders that would bring me more than $100 worth of cookies. The plus side is that I don't have to worry about the cost of opening up my own space and all that goes with it, including the risk. The down side is that it's not mine, and I'm limited to doing catering and wholesale orders. I'm not crossing it off by any means and will be calling her in a few weeks to discuss it further.<br />
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Today I went to take a second look at the Jersey City Storefront.<br />
I really like it and think it could totally work. They are in the process of renovating the entire building which is why it's such a total mess. It's in a great location, two blocks from the Grove Street PATH Station and right across the street from City Hall.<br />
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Tomorrow I'm meeting with the counselor from the Small Business Association. He will help me figure out if this is a viable dream I have and if so, how to go about achieving it the right way.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-29575933958657432962012-01-12T20:23:00.000-05:002012-01-12T20:23:42.405-05:00I've gotta be me<span class="sqq"><i>“Pitiful is the person who is afraid of taking risks. Perhaps this person will never be disappointed or disillusioned; perhaps she won't suffer the way people do when they have a dream to follow. But when the person looks back-she will hear her heart”</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="sqq">I am not a very talented gal. I'm not good at a whole lot, but I know this and I've done lots of soul searching and made actual lists, on paper, with a pen of where my strengths are and where my weaknesses are and I know what I am and am not capable of.</span><br />
<span class="sqq"><i> </i></span><br />
I <b>KNOW</b> Christopher Street Cookies is something I have to do and I know I can do it and be successful at it.<br />
<br />
I've been waiting for the right time for 5 years and within that time I've developed a very very crystal clear vision of what I want this venture to be an how I want it to be organized and what I'm looking to achieve at the end of the day.<br />
<br />
With this I'm doing it the right way, getting all the proper ducks in a row, getting all the guidance, wisdom, information, and help that I can from everyone around me.<br />
<br />
I'm also exploring every single option available to me. Every way this business can be run, I'm looking into it. I've looked at just wholesale from a closed private kitchen to going to see a rental retail store front and next week I'm going to talk to the owner of a brand new not yet opened bakery here in Hoboken about renting her commercial kitchen.<br />
<br />
I'm doing my homework on the best equipment and how to get it for the cheapest price. Working out the list of the bare minimum I need to start up. <br />
I've spent hours doing research on licenses and permits and certifications and finding out exactly what I need to well wholesale, retail and to rent space in a kitchen. <br />
<br />
On Wednesday I have a meeting with a counselor from the NJ SBA to help me with my business plan and to discuss what small business loans are available to women business owners. He will serve as my guide and mentor throughout this process.<br />
I am going about all this in the way it needs to be done to be a raging success. I'm not doing this on a whim or going into it with <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3FOTzC-0xg0">Pollyanna</a> blinders on.<br />
I've joined a networking group for entrepreneurial mothers here in Hoboken.<br />
<br />
I've put lots and lots of hours into doing my homework and getting educated on what all this really truly takes.<br />
<br />
I have to try. I have to. It's almost to the point where it isn't a choice anymore. The drive, the desire, the dream is so strong that to ignore it is exhausting.<br />
<br />
Everyone around me assumes there is no way I can do this and be a success.<br />
Maybe they are right but I look at people like Milton Hershey & Debbi Fields & Walt Disney or even the band Kiss, and while I don't aspire to be as huge as they are (though, why the hell not?! If you are going to dream, dream big right?) they all started out with less than nothing and built empires. <br />
<br />
They all had the same passion for something, they had a vision and a goal, a desire to be more than what everyone around them thought they could be. <br />
<br />
Baking makes me happy and it's something I'm good at. I don't want to go and work long hours to make someone else a success. If I'm going to work hard, it's going to be for me. For my future, for my kids future, for my family's future. For my mental health and happiness.<br />
<br />
Everyone asks me what I'm going to do if I fail. I ask myself what am I going to do when I succeed. When this dream comes to a reality, I will put my blood, sweat and tears into making in the biggest success it can be. Failure doesn't scare me. <br />
<br />
Is it going to be long hours and hard work? Yup. Is my family going to have to hang in with me for a little bit and show me extra patience? Yup.<br />
<br />
I'm not even an official company yet and I have my first party order. Can you imagine what's going to happen when I start putting my product and company name in people's faces?<br />
<br />
I have no delusions that this is going to be a cake walk or that it's going to be an easy venture but I'm ready for it. My kids are ready for it (yes, I've had conversations with them about it all)<br />
<br />
I cannot leave this world having been too afraid, or having waited for the right moment<br />
<br />
I think Sammy said it best:<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-79567331230499185222012-01-10T21:09:00.000-05:002012-01-10T21:11:03.482-05:00TCB cookies!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
The TCB cookie version 1 LIVES!<br />
These cookies are insane. I think I might pull a muscle from patting myself on the back.<br />
This version is peanut butter cookies, banana frosting, and crispy bacon. <br />
If I were going to change anything, I'd bake the cookies a touch longer. They are a little on the gooey side.We will see how a few hours in the fridge goes as far as helping them to set up.<br />
<br />
These cookies need to be consumed with a HUGE glass of milk or cup of coffee.<br />
<br />
I put them together two ways.<br />
Sandwich:<br />
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and "open face" :<br />
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Tomorrow we will try the banana cookies with the peanut butter frosting...and of course we will have bacon. Gotta have bacon...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-35528627637316088472012-01-04T07:28:00.001-05:002012-01-05T06:42:00.486-05:00CSCI'm so excited! Look what I've got!!! Click on them to enlarge. She finally looks the way I want her to!<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-16568343083957030232012-01-01T11:21:00.002-05:002012-01-01T11:21:48.766-05:00Socializing KidsI'm not sure what my malfunction is as a parent but my kids have no friends. Okay, that's slightly dramatic but not too far from the truth.<br />
In the entire year of 2011 my kids had two play dates. Both were with the same set of siblings and one of them was because I was babysitting the four boys.<br />
My boys don't get invited to play dates, or birthday parties, they've never had a sleepover and never get any phone calls.<br />
Lion I'm not so concerned about. The class that he's in now, the socialization just isn't there and I expect less than nothing from his classmates as far as friendships.<br />
PJ's class though is a whole other ball of wax. I've tried to set up play dates for him, tried to make plans but it seems no one wants to hang with him. I'm not going to chase the other parents to force my son on them but it's hard sending out an email inviting classmates over for a play date and getting nothing back from the other parent.<br />
I'm planning his 8th birthday party now and I designed a super cool invitation, made sure it got into everyone's backpacks prior to the holiday break. I followed the invite up with a heads up email to all the parents alerting them to it and I've gotten two emails back from fellow parents. Two out of fourteen. The party is less than a week away.<br />
This morning I sent out another email as a gentle reminder that I needed a headcount for the party and could the parents please let me know if their kids were coming.<br />
Since I err on the side of dramatic, I'm going to drop dead if only two of his classmates show up. Seriously. I might truly faint dead away if I have 2500 sq feet of play space rented, tons of cool Star Wars stuff and two kids.<br />
The rational side of me knows that most folks have been away and probably didn't get the email or open their kids backpacks to see the invite and they will respond tomorrow or Tuesday.<br />
Then the little voice whispers<br />
<i>"</i><i>But what if they don't?</i>"<br />
and I kick into serious crisis mode all over again.<br />
I am planning for and expecting the worst case situation.<br />
I'm working on my<br />
"Don't base your self worth on how many kids came to your birthday party" speech<br />
(even though I know, at his age that's a bunch of bullshit and he's going to remember the lack of friends for the rest of his life) and if the worst case does come true, if we have only a smattering of friends and the turnout is less than expected I'm going to pull out my for emergency only card and surprise him on Monday by pulling him out of class and taking him to the city to Alice's Tea Cup for a birthday surprise high tea.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-64596791221759685802011-12-31T10:09:00.001-05:002011-12-31T10:16:07.880-05:00dreamsIt's really hard to be excited about your dreams and plans when no one supports you or wants to help you.<br />
<br />
It's the very reason why I've put what I want on the back burner for so long. There are only so many times a person can get excited and then get shot down before they shut down.<br />
<br />
I'm at that point now. I'm done discussing what I'm planning and I understand that my support is limited.<br />
I'm just going to do what I need to do to make my dreams real and you can all be surprised when it happens.<br />
<br />
I won't look to family for assistance or guidance or excitement. I can't rely or depend on them. I can't blame them either. It's not their dream and they've heard me chirp about it for so long I'm sure they are numb to it. <br />
<br />
I'm going to have to find another way to get what I want.<br />
I'm a resourceful gal. I'll figure it out.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-69149597208347296372011-12-30T21:29:00.001-05:002011-12-30T21:51:00.898-05:00ShastaSo today I had this crazy epiphany about my business plan and how I can set it apart and make it cooler and more ass kicking than anything else out there.<br />
Do all my baking in the rented space that will be pimped out as my small commercial kitchen and then get a vintage trailer to use for event catering and to bring my cookies to the people.<br />
Not just any stupid old food truck though. No dopey step van for my business. Oh no.<br />
No, we go super cool vintage bad ass.<br />
We go with a Shasta Trailer.<br />
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(gesticulating wildly like a game show bimbo) Huh?! Huh?! Come on! That's some cool stuff right there!<br />
I know what you are thinking.<br />
You are thinking<br />
"Diana, WHERE are you going to park a trailer in Hoboken?!"<br />
Silly silly common folk. (patting you all on the head)<br />
We park her at the Monroe Center!<br />
Stop. I know what you are thinking now.<br />
"Diana, that's not a truck, that's a trailer. You will need to buy a car or truck to pull it"<br />
Yup and ya know what? I'm gonna need a car/truck/SUV anyway if I'm going to do deliveries. We find a used truck or whatever with enough horsepower to pull a 14' trailer and we are killing two birds with one stone.<br />
(sitting back and looking triumphant) <br />
Oh, but this story isn't over! I didn't start this to tell you how I have this all worked out. I started to share because I wanted to tell you how the universe/fate/God/whatever has once again thrown a sign my way that I cannot ignore.<br />
I went hunting for a Shasta just to see how much one might cost and the first place I searched (South Jersey) brought me back this:<br />
<br />
<i>1962 Shasta Travel Trailer that was partially restored for a mobile
coffee shop. Frame was reinforced for extra weight in trailer, rough
wiring is finished for all electrical appliances. New insulation board
has been installed, as well as many other upgrades. The trailer is great
for somebody that wants to start a mobile food business or who is just
getting it for recreational purposes. Give me a call and I will answer
any questions you may have, and we can set up a time for you to come see
it! $4,000 OBO Call Joan at (732)xxx-xxxx or E-mail, Thanks. PLEASE NO
SCAMMERS OR TELEMARKETERS </i><br />
<br />
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Is that just a teeny tiny weird or is it just me?<br />
I contacted the owner and asked what she thought it would take to finish it up inside. She said she thinks about $3,000 to restore it.<br />
<br />
Hubs is headed down to Atlantic City this weekend and I'm hoping that I can convince him to convince his BFF to take a drive up and see this gal.<br />
<br />
I'd like to see more interior photos and ask him to haggle with the owner over the price. (He's MUCH more charming than I am and when he wants something, he can get it and leave you wondering what the hell just happened.)<br />
<br />
This trailer doesn't figure into my business plan till the start of the second year of the doors being open so whatever work has to be done on her can be done in bits and pieces and slowly.<br />
(Never mind that I've already begun to pimp it out and it's my evil plan to repaint all that blue with a purple/fuschia metal flake paint and have metal flake vinyl on the seats inside) <br />
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<i><br /></i><br />
First let me see if I can convince hubs to even take a look at her.<i>...</i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-6123525875296630752011-12-28T09:39:00.000-05:002011-12-28T12:58:27.788-05:00Space$2,000 a month for the space. Owner is getting me a price on all the necessary construction including adding a bathroom and installing sinks, and drains and upgrading some of the electrical. <br />
<br />
I LOVE this space!<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-34491355510798027952011-12-22T20:05:00.002-05:002011-12-22T20:05:53.796-05:00Merry Christmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i> The beautiful, unique, Christiana. There will never ever be another human like her anywhere. </i></div>
<br />
Since we lost her not one single day has gone by that I don't in some form think of her. <br />
This time of year however, I have one very specific memory that never fails to make me smile no matter how many times I play it over in my head.<br />
<br />
We were about 17 years old and had our brand new drivers licenses and she had that amazing car that you see in the photo above. We had spent the day Christmas shopping, getting her tree, running around from mall to mall and just loving our happy, carefree lives.<br />
<br />
Earlier that year we had gone to see Anthrax play and at Christmas they had released a new single of their new album. The song was their rap metal number "I'm the man" We each picked up a copy of the single on cassette but waited till we got back to my place to slap it into my boom box.<br />
With that song cranking we decorated the window in my room with fake snow. We went through 3 bottles of the stuff writing our favorite bands names and silly designs.<br />
<br />
I remember just being happy and the two of us giggling and gossiping and planning our outfits for the upcoming weekend.<br />
It was just one of those pure happy, hanging out with the (at that time) one person who made me happy, who understood and loved me for who and what I was. She always made me feel safe and understood.<br />
<br />
My point behind sharing this?<br />
<br />
It isn't always the big moments that count.<br />
They <i>ALL</i> count.<br />
Moments that you think mean nothing or aren't of any special significance can end up being a favorite or important memory.<br />
Some of my favorite memories with her are just driving in our cars, or being in a mall.<br />
Not events or celebrations (though I have lovely memories of those too) but how she made me always feel important and loved and worthy even when she wasn't saying a word. <br />
<br />
During this time of year when we are with those we love (if you are lucky) tuck away some of the quieter moments. Pay attention to the smaller stuff. A laugh, a look, a story, a moment shared. They all count, but so often we don't realize it till it's too late and all we have are those memories to look back on.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/GiHdr4rWG98?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Here is Anthrax doing "<i>I'm the man</i>" It's a nice festive holiday ballad</div>
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Merry Christmas all of you!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-12790179609607501912011-12-14T20:48:00.000-05:002011-12-14T20:48:36.624-05:00PopularityHeaven help me. Patrick is breaking my heart tonight. We've been away from school for a week in Disney World and he was so happy. Tonight he's in bed crying because he's dreading going back to school tomorrow.<br />
He's going through exactly the same crap I dealt with with the social scene in school when I was his age and it's killing me to see him like this. <br />
He's trying too hard to be all things to all people, trying too hard to ensure everyone likes him, trying too hard to fit in and be cool and it's backfiring.<br />
Classmates are ignoring him, making fun of him, picking on him which only makes him become more desperate and try harder which gives the classmates more fuel.<br />
<br />
It's one thing to go through it yourself, it's quite another to watch your child suffer with a pain you can still feel. I remember the isolation, the burning sensation of the blush on my cheeks when the girls would mock me. I remember wondering why they didn't like me.<br />
<br />
Knowing I had a lot to offer, that I was a good person and would make a great friend if they would only give me a chance. Trying so hard, willing to stand on my head and laugh at their cruel jokes at my expense, even learning to poke fun at myself so they would laugh with me rather than at me.<br />
Being invited to birthday parties only because I had to be and when I no longer had to be, being the only kid in class who wasn't invited.<br />
<br />
It got so bad, my parents changed my school twice till we found one that was the right fit. It took 4 years of non stop agony, of my coming home each day crying, of my parents trying to figure out how to make it better to make it right. <br />
<br />
I want to kill these children for putting PJ through even a small tiny taste of this. Even if it never gets to the point where it was for me, the fact that he's now lying in his bed crying because he's dreading school tomorrow because his "friends" ignore him makes me want to go to school tomorrow with my claws sharpened tomorrow, ready to tear out the eyes of these horrible mean children who are causing my son pain.<br />
<br />
I know that I can't. I know that I along with thousands of other adults made it out of that hell to the other side and grew up to be a decent human.<br />
I know that anything I say to him is going to go in one ear and out the other. I know that drive to show them, to prove to them, to make them see that you are a worthy friend overrides anything I might tell him.<br />
<br />
I am going to talk to the school psychologist tomorrow and see if I can't set up an appointment with her for him to see what she might have to offer. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-1869610033860389282011-12-04T21:09:00.001-05:002011-12-04T21:09:55.767-05:00Ideas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2050687672865626304.post-82133729478014399592011-11-30T08:58:00.001-05:002011-11-30T09:46:58.777-05:00Burlesque & BoobsI'm a fairly confident kinda gal. I'm not at all shy and not much makes me uncomfortable. There is one thing that makes me more self conscious and makes me want to run screaming more than any other and if you ask it of me, I will decline you every single time.<br />
I do not dance. The thought of dancing stresses me out and gives me knots in my stomach.<br />
<br />
My mother was a dancer her whole life. For 60 plus years she danced ballet, tap, jazz, modern. She was as beautiful and graceful as they come. As a little girl, my sister and I spent countless hours in dance studio dressing rooms peeking in watching her do bar work or floor work. She always took my breath away. The happiness was so visible in her when she danced.<br />
<br />
My sister took to it like a fish to water. She was on point at a young age and was just as graceful as my mother. She was accepted to LaGuardia High School as part of their dance department in 8th grade.<br />
You know LaGuardia. Yeah, you do. It's the school the movie "<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6oph3zcGpD4&feature=related">Fame</a>" was based off of.<br />
<br />
She eventually switched to their Drama department but she is still as graceful and beautiful when she dances just like my mother.<br />
<br />
Me, not so much. Since I'm adopted, I didn't inherit the lithe graceful genes. I tried. Lordy did I try. I took ballet and modern from a very young age and it never felt right to me. I always felt awkward and like a total fraud. I kept going to the classes till one day I must have been about 8 maybe a little younger we were doing run run leaps across the floor and I remember in the middle of one less than pretty run run right before the leap I thought,<br />
<br />
<br />
"GOD. I HATE THIS"<br />
<br />
I was afraid telling my mother would upset her but I knew I couldn't do this for one more class. I'm not sure if my mother knew all along dance wasn't for me and wasn't my thing but I don't recall her being angry or upset at my admission that I hated dancing and never wanted to put on a tutu or dance shoes again ever in my entire life.<br />
<br />
I've kept pretty true to my word. You won't find me out on the dance floor ever, anywhere and you will never hear me ask to go dancing every, anywhere. <br />
<br />
As a 38 year old (39 in 2 months) mother I've decided that I'm going to make 2012 the year I do things I never thought I would do.<br />
<br />
Dancing is on that list. Not ballet or tap or modern or jazz. None of those will ever feel comfortable to me.<br />
Nope, I need something with a little bit more sass, something that allows me to work with what I've been given and not feel like I'm alone in a room of graceful, thin princesses.<br />
<br />
I wanna go and take a burlesque class!!! Seriously. Stop laughing! I'm not kidding!! I wanna wear pasties with tassles!<br />
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More than that though, I want to get rid of the fear I have of settings like this one:<br />
<br />
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<br />
The thought of being in a dance studio with other women to whom sexy and graceful come natural gives me a serious panic attack.<br />
The thought of them watching me and making it look so easy and potentially making a total ass out of my self as I bumble and stumble through the class causes me shortness of breath.<br />
<br />
That is EXACTLY why I need to take this class. I need to figure out why the thought of a class makes my skin crawl but the thought of performing excites me.<br />
<br />
I need to dispose of my self imposed stick up my ass and just take a deep breath and go and have a good time!<br />
<br />
I will be attempting to recruit some of my gal pals to come with me and give me some of the courage I need to make this happen:<br />
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