Don't Chase The Fed Ex Truck Suz!

The Sandias on a beautifully cloudy day.

This will be brief, as I will explain.  Last Friday we were expecting something from FedEx. I heard the dog barking and I was half dressed. Since Buddy continued to bark, I assumed Bob didn't hear the truck in the shop.  I whipped on my uggs and top and flew out the front door.  I also tripped over a rock and landed knees and palms on the gravel.  The FedEx driver never looked, and off he went.  My hands were not usable for two days, my knees scabbed and bruised.  I guess I don't bounce as well as I used to!  It could have been worse, nothing broken, just sprains.  And Bob had gotten the delivery, there was no need for me to run.

I have been spending more time with my chickens. They continue to crack me up.

How do they do that?

Thanks for reading.  Each day is a gift. Open now.
xo,
Suz

It's A Beautiful Life

The Silkie Sisters

In spite of New Mexico's very harsh spring.  We have managed a few great days.  This week we were putting a washer and dryer in the guest house.  For Bob this means no more cutting through the shop for our tenants to do laundry.  That will give him great peace, as he doesn't like to be interrupted.  The electrician and plumbers came the same day as "Dave the Neanderthal Pool Man."  Dave opens and closes the pool every year.  However, this year he couldn't get the pilot light to stay lit. 

Frame on hinges before netting was put on.

Between the washer/dryer installation and Dave, I thought Bob would lose his mind.   What started out as a gorgeous Spring day, ended with what I call a "hemorrhage of money."  The dryer needed a bigger breaker, and there were none left in the box.  Dave left us with a cold pool, and no definite answer as to needing a new heater.  The next day Dave arrived with a new part. The guys finished the installation.  Neither of us got much work done.  Life.

Rose bushes will provide shade, and predator protection.

The morning started out with a garden work, and a chicken visit.  I was working in the garden, watering the newly planted rose bushes, and mulching strawberries.  Our tenant Karen was hanging wash outside wearing her apron.  I was feeding the chickens bread scraps.  We looked as if we had stepped back in time.  I snapped a picture of her and some of the chickens, as well as the roses, and new strawberry patch anti bird netting frame.  It's hinged, so I can lift it up the frame to harvest and work. Brilliant!

Karen hanging the wash...cutie pie.

In spite of the speed bumps we hit, I feel life is pretty wonderful.  I love my morning routine of watering and feeding.  Karen is a gardener and chicken lover. She's helped so much with yard work, and I look forward to more side by side gardening, and chickening.  It's nice to have a tenant who also feels like a neighbor.  It's a beautiful life.

Talullah being silly. 

Talullah again, what a poser.

I checked the pool, and it's warm and ready.  However it's been raining here on and off all day (not complaining), and it barely cracked 50 degrees.  Not exactly swimming weather. :-)

Thanks for reading. Each day is a gift, open now.
xo,
Suz

Water For Elephants

I saw the movie "Water For Elephants" last week.  In a few weeks I am going on my first trip ever, with my Grandson Ethan alone.  He has always loved elephants .  I think it's because every children's alphabet book has an elephant for the letter E.  Perhaps giving suggestion.  It really doesn't matter.  They are wise powerful creatures, and he knows that.

From the Etsy shop of AmberAlexander.  I bought these prints for E. He loves her elephant art.

I wanted to see this movie because of our trip.  I had avoided reading the book, as a trip to Borders years ago was met with a woman sobbing reading it.  I am a tough audience.  Working in the movies changed my perspective of how I see them.  At a boring movie I find myself counting camera angles or shots.  Continuity really drives me crazy.  Like when an actor is wearing a watch, and the camera turns around and he's not wearing it. Buttons and mic packs make me want to scream: "hold the roll!"  "Water For Elephants" afforded none of that.  I was mesmerized from beginning to end.  In my mind, the Elephant stole every scene he/she was in.  There is painful cruelty to animals, specially performing animals that is hard to watch.  Here's the link to the trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_6b2XhXkPpg

Our trip is to San Andreas California where there is a performing animal rescue "PAWS" that has rescued many elephants.   We get to spend the day with the elephants.  We will stay with my friends who live there (and have gone before) at their ranch.  We'll also see the "Big Trees".  I can't wait.  Ethan is 13, and an old soul.  It will be fun to see it through his eyes. I have never been to anything like this.  So it will be all new to me also.

http://www.pawsweb.org/

If you can, go see the movie.
Thanks for reading.
Each day is a gift. Open now.
xo,
Suz

Love

10.)These kids need the most love when they are acting like they deserve it the least.  Love and affection will be accepted and reciprocated if you continue to give it.

 When my son was a baby, he was happiest in his swing or in his crib.  Most kids fall asleep in the car, it wound him up. Going to the park usually ended in some altercation with another child. Playgroup was a nightmare.  Most of the time he wanted to be alone.  It was Mommy's idea to go to the park,  join a playgroup, or invite people over.  Eventually, I stopped taking him places unless we had to go. By the time he was 4, not many people even wanted him to come over.  I was isolated, lonely, and pre diagnosis clueless.  He did have a few kids he wanted to be around.  One on one, not in loud groups.  The beach (my favorite) was an assault on his senses: hot sand, cold lake water, suntan lotion, and if it was windy he covered his ears or eyes.  What he really liked was being inside the house playing with our canister vacuum and it's attachments.

One summer the city decided to put in all new water and sewer pipes. Huge backhoes, bulldozers, payloaders showed up one Monday at 8am in front of our corner house.  The crew were all Italians.  At 10am one of them would go to a local bakery or donut shop and bring back a box. They all sat on the grassy parkway under a tree drinking coffee from their thermos' and eating.  Many spoke Italian.  My son was over the moon about the earth moving equipment in his front yard.  By the end of the week he had taken his little lawn chair and parked it in the shade.  He was happy to sit and watch them.  He knew after the first day to stay back.  They worked, he watched...perfeto!  The 3rd week he was eating his lunch outside in his chair when they broke for lunch. Now they were watching him.  He still was not talking, and the workmen tried to talk to him.  I told them his name, and they all told him their names.  Silence, but smiles of delight.

By the 4th week the crew realized this kid wasn't going anywhere.  I knew that
I would be spending the summer with an Italian construction crew.  "Vito" drove the backhoe.  That was my son's favorite.  When the crew left at night, we would let him sit in the seats of the equipment. He was in heaven.  By the 6th week he was having donuts with them. I felt this was good, as he was limited in foods he would eat.  His birthday is in July.  I bought the pastries on his birthday for "their" coffee break.  At the end of the day Vito asked if he could take my son up in the cab and let him drive the backhoe.  Talk about thrilled.  I think he was still smiling when he went to bed.  Vito made quite an impression.  While other mothers were having picnics at the lakefront, I was having donuts with Italian construction workers. But my son was happy, and that made me happy.

Those days seemed far away by the time public school 3rd grade arrived.  I was called every day to come in and talk to some staff member.  I do not exaggerate.  He was in trouble constantly.  We kept a journal with the aide.  Kids taunted him, teachers yelled at him, he was in the principal's office so often that he started fixing the secretary's printer when it would seize up.  The first hour home after school he had to decompress.  I would engage him in a favorite activity, or have a snack once he was relaxed.  One afternoon he was sitting at the kitchen table after school. 
"Why am I a boy nobody can love?" he asked.  My heart went into my throat, and I could feel the tears start to come.  I couldn't think of an answer.  So I asked: "Is that how you feel, unlovable?"   He nodded his head, and slumped his shoulders.  This is one of those crystal clear memories we have few of.
All I could do was try to hug him with his stiff bristly posture. He didn't pull away.  I knew at that instant that I had to change that perception, and feeling.  I think I cried for days afterward every time I thought of him feeling unlovable.  It still breaks my heart.  From that moment on I knew I had to love him when he acted the most unlovable.  His behaviors during our divorce were pretty scary sometimes.
Outbursts came often, and he's a big kid.  Somehow, I always forgave him.  Sometimes, I had to go in the other room, as I thought I would lose my mind.  Sometimes I needed a time out.  He taught me to love in a way I had never known love. He was affectionate to me, his big sister, and his Dad. He hugged and kissed us all the time.  And only us.

By the time Middle School arrived,  I was all he had left.  Big Sis was a mom herself living in another state.  Dad had lost all visitation.  We had moved from the farm back to the city.  I walked him from my car in the lot to the front door of his school on a Fall morning.  We said our good byes, and he turned and kissed me on the mouth in front of the entire school and said: "Love ya Mum."  I looked around and the kids were indeed watching.  Now for the first time I realized that he was too big to hold my hand walking into school.  And it really wasn't age appropriate to kiss Mum goodbye in front of school.  This is another crystal clear memory.   We had a little talk, and I think a few kids made fun of him.  As Fall turned to Winter he would say: "Love you Mum." and walk away from my car.  No hugs or kisses.

When I see my son and his fiance being affectionate, it makes me melt.   I hear him tell her he loves her at the end of every phone conversation.  Most of the time when we are ending a phone conversation he tells me he loves me, as he does my husband.  I know he knows we love him. Wherever the school psychologist is that told me he would never show love and affection, nor receive it: I have one thing to say.  I love you for being wrong.


Thanks for reading.
Each day is a gift. Open now.
xo,
Suz

Stop and Smell the Roses

Talullah loves looking at the new roses. 

As I eat the last piece of fresh fruit tart (Bob bought at Whole Foods) with my coffee this morning.  Here are a few chicken photos from the mother hen.  On Mothers Day my son and I spent an hour feeding, petting, and watching the chickens. He named the non neurotypical one "Gobbles." As this chick looks like she's gobbling food because of her head tic.  It's been windy and cold here, so they keep close to their "club house."

 

 

Mothers Day Morning

Gigi, Talullah, and Nanette: Talullah is HUGE!

Bantam buff Cochin...so cute!

Cosette, the largest of the Dominique French hens

 Thanks for reading.
Each day is a gift. Open now!
xo,
Suz

A Round Peg In A Square Hole

"The Golden Brain"  

I continue with my list for those dealing with Autism.
9.) Find a program that matches the child vs. trying to make the child match the program.


There are many programs today for kids with Autism. With 1 in 89 boys, or 1 in 150 kids education has been trying to catch up.  When my son was young, there was nothing in our state. We had a choice of full "inclusion," or a "warehouse" program that I think was called "Multi Categorical."   "Inclusion" was just the opposite of what the word means.  Regular Ed teachers really did not want special needs kids in their classes.  In their defense, if they wanted to teach Special Ed they would be Special Ed teachers.  The warehouse programs held the kids all day, and taught nothing.  Puzzles, water play, shape sorting were about the only activity.  Neither of these classes were appropriate for my son.  We chose inclusion with a 1:1 aide.


In first grade my son went through several aides.  I was so thrilled we had won the battle to get an aide written into his IEP (individualized educational program-mandated paperwork).  When I asked Dr Lavigne if there were "trained" aides.  She actually laughed.  :-(   Truth be told, most of them worked at Walmart as their last job.  Which doesn't provide training in autism.  Occasionally there is a person who is a retired teacher, or getting their degree in education and those were the best.   In my son's elementary school (which shall not be named) they felt the best aide would be one who could sit on him when he was having a tantrum.  And she did.  


Eventually I got wise and realized inclusion was not for him at the moment.  They hired a 1:1 teacher and he went to her house, or she came to ours.  And so went 4-6th grades.  The stress in all our lives decreased once he was out of the public grade school.  His program was designed by me for socialization, and then the 1:1 teachers for his academics. Rock climbing, working on a tv repair shop, running bingo at a nursing home were some of the activities he did every week for 4th grade.  Each one of these teachers were incredible human beings in their own right.  They taught him things I could never even have thought of academically and socially.  I refer to them as his Angels.  I am so grateful for their spirits and hearts. 


Sadly, he had not learned to read higher than the 1st grade level by the time Jr. High/Middle School arrived.  I knew this district would never teach him to read. We moved to a district with a magnet school.  He learned a lot at that school.  He had a 1:1 aide to scribe and dictate.  However, they were not addressing the reading or writing issue.  I began to search for a private school that taught dyslexic kids.   I found 3 in the USA that used Orton Gillingham, or Wilson methods with normal to above normal intelligence kids.  I chose the one in Albuquerque because it was the most affordable living, and I had been to New Mexico many times with him.


So I packed everything I HAD to take, sold lots of stuff, and left everyone I knew and loved in Chicago to head West.  DLD Sycamore School  was a gamble.  But if he didn't learn to read and write, he'd be left standing on the curb.  I spent my last $$ on private tuition for 18 months.  The gamble paid off.  Those women worked with him, and he was not a willing student.  He didn't really want to read or write.  But he did, and they did.  I owe them a huge debt for all their diligence.  Today he reads and writes well enough to run an vacuum shop.  He texts constantly!  Imagine. I don't know if he will ever be a book guy.  But he certainly reads web pages, magazines, and types quite well.
http://www.dldsycamoreschool.com/

High school was in Santa Fe.  That is another blog in itself.  Not everyone would cross the country alone as I did.  When I look back at it, I am amazed I did it.  Of course that was almost 10 years ago.  The time has flown by.  I am married to a man now who has become a father to my son. Something even his own biological father could not be. I get all "verclempt" when I think of how much my son loves Bob, and Bob him.  Our lives today are something I could not foresee when I left Illinois.  All because I was looking for a round hole for a round peg kid.


Thanks for reading.
Each day is a gift. Open now.
xo,
Suz

Happy Mothers Day 2011

Buddy sleeps in the cool grass.

The matriarch of our family is writing this blog.  I don't feel like one.  I've only had the title for a year and a half.  So here's the news from the current titleholder.  I wish all Mothers a day of love and respect.

Lola the Prozac cat.  She is new and improved due to modern medicine.

I am going to start my day out by letting the chicks out of their "club house", and watering the new veggie gardens.  Then I hope to have an extra cuppa, and leisurely read the Sunday New York Times.  Later in the day my son and fiance are coming over.  He and I have a date to do some chicken watching.  It's getting warm, so we will figure out a bit more shade for the chicks.  Bob will make Italian shrimp and linguine.  Later we will go see "Thor" which was filmed here in New Mexico.   I will miss seeing my daughter.  Although she sent me a gift that only someone who really knows me would give me.  I love Japanese plastic figures.  Specially the marshmallow head ones.  She got me 2 "DIY" ones that come with their own permanant markers.  I had seen them, and couldn't justify buying them for myself. I am glad she did!

"Punk Chick" a Silkie with a mohawk!

Here are some photos of the Chicks at 6 weeks.  Time flies, they are so big.  I sold 3 of the Langshan roosters and 3 nasty Brahma hens on Craigs list. We are down to 21.  Sadly, one of the buff Silkies has some neurological "tic" that makes her turn his head to the side constantly.  Her feathers are not coming in well, and I think she has little seizures as she suddenly closes his eyes in mid step and looks like she's sleeping.  It breaks my heart, as I know she will have a hard time, and be at the bottom of the pecking order.  

A chicken bath tub. Seats 2.

I am planting the veggie garden this week. Lot's of what I call "vampire gardening" will be going on.  I garden at night as my lupus, and the New Mexico heat make it nearly impossible.  At twilight I go out and work for several hours every day.  The hard labor of building and filling all the beds was done last year. We ate fresh spinach again tonight.  It tastes amazing.  I will be putting shade cloth on the other 3 sides.  It breaks the wind and keeps lots of critters out. The dried tumbleweeds will be a pricker nightmare.  However, once the shade cloth is on the sides, it will be hard for the weeds to come through.  Our mature peach tree has not a peach on it this year.  Half of it did not even leaf out.  I am sure the below temps this winter have lots to do with it.  The little apple trees I planted last year all made it and have apples on them.  Nature, one just can't predict. 

"Myster E" 

"Cosette" a French Hen who is sitting on my lap. :-)

"Gigi" another French hen, posing.

The non neurotypical silkie

Bob and I continue to go to the ceramics studio.  I took a picture of his beautiful casserole.  There is chicken marinating in it.  He bought it on the bone.  Which I have to say...I have lost a taste for. :-(

Here are the photos.  

Bob's casserole.  Feels weird posting it when there are live chickens above.

Thanks for reading.

Each day is a gift. Open now!

xo,

Suz