Blog-Hog

I want to introduce you to my 3 month old Autism Blog. It seems that Tanner has been a blog-hog for a while now so I decided to dedicate a blog specifically to him. In this newer venue I write more about how I have learned to live and thrive with a boy who sometimes wants to kill me.

There is a link to my autism blog on the right hand column "How Autism Changed Me". Start at the beginning and enjoy.

www.alphamomautism.blogspot.com

Solo Rarotonga

     Every time this year I get sick of the weather. March is one big "tease-fest", one day it's 60 degrees, the next day it's 20 degrees. It rains then it snows. I just can't take it! Therefore, I try to plan an escape to a tropical paradise. After four months of winter shivering I traveled to the Cook Island's in the south pacific. There is a place so exotic and far away that everyone I know asks "where!?!" So I just tell them that it's an island way south of Hawaii and virtually in the middle of nowhere. And then I tell them that I am going alone. "What!?!
    Yes, Rarotonga is my first solo trip. And Yes I loved it. A week of alone time was suprisingly exhilarating and exciting and relaxing and peaceful. I took long, slow, calm walks. I floated effortlessly in the shallow lagoon. I ate fruits right off the trees. I explored the jungle. I dived with some sharks. And I darn near died of heat poisoning.
    Regarding the ferocity of the blazing Rarotongan sun, there were times when I would have paid a hundred bucks for a fountain Diet Coke on ice, or a Popcicle, or a Snow Cone or even a tall glass of icy water. At these times I missed the cold of Utah. But as soon as I saw the inviting, clear blue of the lagoon I felt I could stay there forever. The island of Rarotonga is breathtakingly beautiful but if the ocean isn't within dunking distance the heat presses down like a steamy towel.
    When I returned home to Utah I felt the chill of a cool breeze, I breathed in the bone dry air and knew right away that this is where I want to be ten out of twelve months. Then I ate a whole jar of crisp, cold pickles with great satisfaction.

I stayed in a bungalow

darn near died inland

scuba dived to recover

kayaked to my own private islet

My Breakdown

I have been anticipating a breakdown for many years now. I have never had one but I know of some people who have, even in my own family. I guess it was just a matter of time before I ended up at the side of a road thinking about death......So there I was, on I-15 southbound, driving at a swift clip in the fast lane as always. Then I lost power, the RPM's flatlined and I had to guide my vehicle across three lanes of traffic to the shoulder. Except I was approaching a small incline in the highway and my momentum petered out. I found myself perched on an overpass, cement barrier on one side and eighteen wheelers from hell on the drivers side. There was an unending line of semi trucks, cement trucks, dump trucks, fuel trucks, all speeding within feet of my sardine can. As each behemoth invaded my safety bubble my whole car felt as if it would take flight and flip over the cement barrier. This is about the time I began thinking about death. Really it would take but a small distraction in the driver of a truck and I wouldn't feel a thing. I kept my eye on my rearview mirror guaging the trajectories of the oncoming vehicles. Just when I started to sort out an escape plan a police officer pulled up behind me. He walked up to my passenger window and told me that I sure chose a dangerous place to park. ha ha. Next he pushed me out of harm's way using the bumper of his patrol car.
After having my life flash before my eyes about 60 times I firmly decided to replace my beloved and aged BMW for a more "mature" vehicle. Two days later my master negotiator (Dave) and a car salesman went to battle over the purchase price of my new and lovely Lexus sedan. Hopefully I won't have a breakdown for another ten years. Mental breakdown? no guarantees

Sibs and Friends

Lately I have been thinking, really thinking. Usually I try not to go especially deep with my thoughts  regarding the past or the future because, frankly, both make me anxious. I don't have a handle on either one. Still I find myself examining the relationships I have with people; now, then and in the future. I notice that I am a finicky friend and tend to play it safe when conversations turn personal. I am a listening friend, not a sharing friend. Therefore friendships for me are superficial and fun. They come and go. Sibling relationships, however, are perpetual through thick and thin. I don't have to constantly maintain my alliances with each of my five sibs to know that they will always be there if I but reach out for them. The difference between mere friendships and strong sibships is that if I neglect a friendship it becomes unreliable and cool.Yet if I overlook my family for a time I know that they will still be there when I am ready to share a burden. The greatest aspect of having a big family is that each of us have a distinctive gift to give each other. Depending on our individual struggles there is always one of six who can be sympathetic to that particular obstacle. So, as a whole, my family offers solutions like a rainbow offers colors. I may not share everything with everyone but at least one of these colors are utilized depending on the flavor of my dilemma.

I have known my siblings all my life and each one of them is more valuable than any friend I could ever have.

Glamorous Park City

    The Beautiful People have arrived in Park City for the prestigious Sundance Film Festival. You can just feel the the gravity of the Big Hollywood hitters as they make their appearances around town. Red carpets, photo shoots, black limo's, exclusive parties. Oh the fame! And to think that I am a part of it all.
It feels so good to be so close to all that...whatever it is.
    Maybe if I scrub enough toilets and make enough beds my dad will let me go to the ball! But no, I would rather stay at the humble Chateau Apres and clean rooms than stand in line for a crappy film or go gaga over an anemic starlet. I'm pretty happy staying off Main Street this time of year.

Unexpected

Remember four weeks ago when Tanner actually needed medical intervention? When he split his scalp open after a particularly effective head-banging episode?  I took him to the Emergency Room because he had a laceration which I couldn't ignore (actually two nice, deep, bloody wounds to his noggin). We spent three long hours in a little room before anybody even touched him. Then after several "I'll be right back" statements from the ER doctor, four fresh and young medical people entered the room, burrito wrapped Tanner, and then a wide-eyed medical resident put six staples in Tanner's scalp; effectively sealing the wounds. Well, I didn't actually expect them to "probe" the wounds since the boy is, at his best, uncooperative. I asked if I could remove the staples myself, after a week, since I am a brave medical person myself and they let me leave with the handy staple remover gadget.

One week later I dutifully removed one staple at a time over the course of a couple of days (it was hard to get a good grip on a moving target). Curiously, there was still a rather large lump in one of Tanner's lacerations. I figured it was just healing tissue. Two weeks later there was something hard but small at the edge of the healed scar. I would push on it tenderly as Tanner laid on my lap as he went off to sleep. Soon I figured I would pick at him a little with tweezers or another pokey instrument but I could never get a good enough grip on whatever the "hard" thing was. Dave was curious as well and picked at the boy's head for over a week. Finally, a month after staples, Dave pulled out a sizable piece of chunky, hard plastic buried inside Tanner's scalp. The foreign object was obviously from some toy and not from the wall which I originally thought to be the culprit of the original injury. I am still at a loss as to where the orange piece of plastic came from.

Come Back

I am in mourning. My delightful, creative and friendly daughter has been taken over by a surly teenage alien. I look at this alien being and try to glimpse the little girl who loved to laugh and share her thoughts. As I try to communicate with it I feel like we don't even speak the same language. It seems distracted by electronic devices. It acts as if it has no time to talk. It stays in it's room for long periods of time. All I want is my goofy daughter back. Other parents who have also hosted teenage aliens tell me that it takes a couple of years before they recognize their charming children again. All I know is that I miss her.