The S- Word

So here are two topics I never post about, right?

• 
  
  Jose
  
  
  
• Food
  

Yeah, NOT

At the start of the school year it felt like Jose really turned things up a notch when in ONE day he stole snack from a girl's desk, took food from a boy's tray in the lunchroom and then took advantage of the new worker at the after school program when he saw a double-snack opportunity coming his way.  Amazing what well tuned survival skills can do.  Well maybe not "well-tuned".  He was caught each time and from what I understand the little girl let him and the rest of the class know, that his behavior was most unacceptable.

So, earlier this week, you can imagine my surprise, my shock, my good grief I now need a face-lift and a hearing-aid moment, when Jose said this at the dinner table:

"I'm stuffed."

Wha...?  Hu....?  Did he jus....?  No, he didn't say tha....  He did?   You know that look a dog gives you when their confused?  That tilt of the head "huh" look.  Well that was me.  And Brendan.  At opposite ends of our very long dinner table. 

And then again this week when we were driving to/from some appointments and he had snacks in the car, "Mom, do I have to finish this bar (banana, carrots,...)?  I'm stuffed."  Each time.  Each way.  And then again at dinner.  And again a breakfast.  He's like a kid who just learned a naughty word and he's trying to test it out constantly.

"I'm stuffed."

"I'm stuffed."

"I'm stuffed."

I tried to keep calm each time by just responding with a , "That's great that you're listening to your body.  If you feel full you should stop eating.  Good job Jose."  But in my head I was all:  "HEY WORLD - DID YOU HEAR THAT?!?!  JOSE IS STUFFED!  YEAH STUFFED!  MEANING HE'S HAD ENOUGH TO EAT!  AS IN HE DOESN'T WANT ANYMORE!"

On Wednesday night Brendan and I got together with Mother Theresa and Gandhi to discuss Jose.  At one point I said, "So, what in the world happened with Jose and food over the weekend?"

Mother T explained that they went to a movie and had popcorn.  She bought the jumbo tub (the one that looks like a small swimming pool and they refill for free) and filled little cups for each of the kids.  Toward the end of the movie, when everyone else had eaten their fill of popcorn, Jose asked for more.  So, she just gave him the big tub and what was left in it.  He was eager and willing to finish it off.  For a while.  But eventually, he ran out of steam and said, "I just don't think I can eat anymore."

And That. Was That. 

Apparently a never ending jumbo tub of popcorn was what it took to convince Jose that there will always be enough food in this world to fill his little belly.

Therapy is so over-rated.

PS  I'm not going to dismiss the fact that this happened with Mother T and Mr G.  In fact I think it's most important piece of this break-through.  This couple is having a very profound impact on Jose.  And me.  And the rest of this family.  More, much more on them to come.

Halloween Play-Doh Style

A busy weekend at our home.  Triple J had six days of no school.  Why?  Because just as Jose is adjusting to his new school year it's important to mess with him and disrupt the routine.  Clearly the school board members do NOT have special needs children.

Jose got to spend a few days with a VERY SPECIAL couple during this time.  I'm eager to share more about them, but it's a bit too early to sing their praises publicly.  Just picture Mother Theresa and Gandi taking the boy for a few days and you've got a very accurate mental picture.  Well, picture them alive.  Yeah, that's better. Mother Theresa and Gandi alive... (click)  *that* picture works.

Um... Oh yeah, Halloween.  On Friday night I brought Emerson and an SJNMA buddy home for the weekend.  It was great to have the real Emer back home.  Still some adjustments to be made - by ALL of us, but overall it was great to see that BOY again.

So you ask, What do two St. John's boys do when they get a weekend off?  Well...

They do this:

and this - if it's Halloween that is.

And yes, these boys are in the same grade.  The little one belongs to me! 

While the girls do this:

 and this:

Oh, did you notice Josel in her bro's camos?  Not in the hooker pirate outfit? 

And the dogs do this:

and this:

And if you're ever wondering what a nutritionally minded mom gives out for Trick or Treat...

well, we... or at least I, give out this:

Can't tell what that is...  Here, this might help:

Last year the Triple J were mortified to find that their mother gave out Play-Doh and not candy.  They thought we'd get a bad 'rap' in the 'hood and we'd be victims of all sorts of trickery and vandalism.  After I explained that our 'hood didn't do the whole "devils night" thing and burn stuff down... I told them I thought kids would like something other than candy.  They weren't buying it.  But, as the night wore on and the  Triple J were already back from their rounds, they were able to witness this themselves:

I opened the door to this clan of kids and brought out the "Basket O' Doh."  As I dropped a container in each bag the kids cried out, "Mom, we found the 'Play-Doh House'!  We found it!  We got Play-Doh!!"  And I capitalized and quote this because they said it as though they just found a named estate...   Like, "Mummy, we found The Royal House of Windsor!"  So now, as "Lady of the Manor Play-Doh", I find it only proper to offer up the same lovely trinket each year. 

Plus it makes our foyer smell like my childhood for a couple days and who wouldn't want that?

A - MAZE - ing

A few weeks ago I took the girls and their friend to a very large corn maze.  About an hour away, this 15 acre maze takes about 1-1/2 hours to master.  Brendan, Emerson and I did  it a couple years ago with Brendan's parents.  We had a great time!

Here's an aerial shot of this year's maze.
It is a mermaid/ocean scene:

Do you see that down there in the bottom right corner? 

They did this just for me this year - a Caguama.

They heard I've had a tough year and wanted to make a tribute to me.  Well, OK, maybe not.  Maybe I just kind of made that up.  But it makes a good story.  Who else do you know who could even pretend to be honored by a corn maze?

Anyhoo - we arrived and were met by the maze master himself:

I believe this little guy is single-handedly pawedly responsible for keeping all the raccoons away.  Why does he have PVC pipe attached to either side of his collar you ask???  To keep him from getting through the fence and onto the highway of course.  He's a farm dog.  Farmers are resourceful.  Only a farmer would think of such a use for PVC pipe.  Only a farm dog would be so busy working at chasing coons to not be concerned with how ridiculous he looks with PVC pipe attached to his neck.

The girls first attended to their own business...

...and then had a chance to realize they could not peer over the corn to find their way .

The girls were determined to run the maze on their own.  Being rather savvy with my own orienteering skills, I went off ahead of them to meet them at each mail box.  If you've never done a corn maze before, it works like this:  you start with a sheet of paper and only 1/8th of the maze map is showing.  In that part of the map there is a circle with the number 1 in it.  You must find that spot where there is a mail box with a small piece of paper with the next 1/8th of the map and the number 2 mail box marked on it.  And so on...

So - I helped them find the first box and then

I set off on my own for the second box. 

Where I waited and waited

and waited...

With great excitement they met me at each box completely

baffled by how I beat them every time.

And then they'd look for their next clue.

Well, here's the trick girls: I actually use the MAP!  The girls decided to use the technique of running down each and every path and marking them with an "X" in the dirt.

Run, run, run!

While my lovely girls are an eighth part Cherokee Indian... they are no Pocahontas.  Lewis and Clark would have discovered the same 5 acres over and over and over again if led by my darlings.

As the night grew dark Josel was calling out for me, trying to follow my voice.  The other two girls would yell out, "Don't answer her!"  So just to be tricky I'd move away from the mail box and call out to them.  Hee hee... what fun to mess with them.

At the very end they asked me to lead them out of the maze

where they could turn in their completed maps for their big prize:

a piece of candy.

I thought they worked harder then that... making all those "X's" at every single path and all.  So we we all went out for pizza. 

Perfect end of an A-Maze-ing evening!

H1N1 - Been There, Done That

I've been in "lock down" mode the past week.  Guessing it was H1N1 and knowing I didn't want a family of 7 joining in on all the fun  - I kept to myself for 6 days.  Today I'm out - like a mole in the sunlight - WOW it's bright out here!  So many things to see:

Where did all that laundry come from?

Why are the fridge and pantry so bare?

How did the house get so messy?

Why are there so many notes from teachers?

Geeeeeesh.  I don't feel well.  I'm going back to bed.

Hey Mom, for Halloween can I be a Hooker?

Anyone else out there wondering what's happened to Halloween costumes these days?

For starters... what ever happened to rummaging through your closet and your mom's and your dad's and your brother's and the basement to find something to wear?  What happened to asking for a ride to Good Will for a couple things and Walgreen's for cheap make-up?

While we were in San Francisco, our sitter bought Josel her late birthday gift... at the Halloween store.  And while I totally appreciate Andrea's generous nature... I'm not pleased with what my daughter picked out.

... because this is just not what I think of when I think... "Pirate."

It seems to me as though all of the Halloween costumes these days are of the "Fantasy Bedroom" category.  From the Adult Women to the Teen Girls and right down to the Tween Girls.  I find it ironic that most stores and websites have a "Sexy Adult Women" catagory... as though the rest of the costumes could qualify as even "Somewhat Modest." 

What ever happened to putting on long underwear, sweat pants, a choir robe... bobby pinning a pillow case to your head and calling yourself a "Nun" for the night?  ...back in my day... (yikes, did I just type that?) costumes were designed around all the layers we needed to go underneath them.  Nothing ruined Trick or Treating more than having to put your winter coat OVER your costume!

After looking on line for something more appropriate... that I could not find by the way... I thought I'd share a couple of my favorites.  Remember... these are all advertised as TWEEN GIRL COSTUMES.

This is a "Gypsy Girl". 

I was once a gypsy girl for Halloween. 

I did not look like this. 

This one is actually titled:

Tween Fallen Angle Fairy Costume

Yeah, she's "Fallen" alright. 

And she can't get up.

Ready for this...

 This is "TWEEN DOROTHY"! 

 DOROTHY from the Wizard of Oz.  Are you kidding me! 

Do they know that in the making of that movie,

Judy Garland's chest was bound to give

 her a more "girl like" appearance?!?!

And when you are shopping for "Tween" or "Junior Teen" costumes and you aren't sure what the difference is.  Don't worry.  One site gives you a very clear definition of just what you'll be getting:

"Junior teens costumes are costumes very much like the

adults but with higher brust lines and longer dresses.

Very proper, but more mature looking than childrens.

Junior costumes allows junior teens to feel very comfortable

in there costumes but still look like they are wearing

adult style costumes."

(If you're wondering... Yes - that is a direct cut and paste.  They did spell it "brust".  As though the guy typing it got so flustered with the young pornographic images, he couldn't chose between writing "bust" or "breast".  A couple more typo's in there too - but hey... who's actually reading the copy?)

I think I'm actually developing a nervous tick with this one: "VERY PROPER".  For whom???  For the 50 year old man who says to the street walker, "Since I was 12 I've always had this fantasy of seducing Dorothy.  If I give you two hundred dollars would you dress up as Dorothy for the night?"

So after talking with the girls, Josel better understood why I didn't think she should wear a corset to school.  She agreeingly made up a list of costumes she could put together from what we have at home... and what I think she finally decided is to wear one of Emerson's BDU's -- that would be Battle Dress Uniform - or Camo's to us civilians.

Long camo pants and a big camo jacket with as many layers underneath as the weather that day calls for... 

NOT This...

If you guessed this to be the "Tween Soldier Girl"...

You're catching on now.

I'm sure the women fighting in Afghanistan would be pleased.

Respite for Respite

The past few mornings I've been a bit relieved to find the sun once again rising in the east... reminding me that I've been granted another day... to screw up probably, but I least I get the chance to try.

On Tuesday I brought a few things to Emerson and it was a joy to see my BOY!  That BOY.  Not the creature he had morphed into during The Worst Summer Ever.  The immediate transformation of him back in his element is beautiful.

Today "Angel" is taking Jose for a weekend of respite.  Ahhhhhhhhhhh.  Today Brendan is picking up Rick at the Milwaukee airport so we can provide respite.  Quite the trade off, huh. 

Rick is a buddy of ours from California days.  We met him when Brendan was coaching Special Olympics out there 16 years ago.  Rick is now in his early 30s and has a pretty extreme case of fetal alcohol effect.  We can be sure Rick will talk our ears off ALL. WEEKEND. LONG.  He will also wear his Wisconsin Cheese Head we bought him several trips ago ALL. WEEKEND. LONG.  He and Brendan will go to the Badger game tomorrow and we will hear about that game ALL. WEEKEND. LONG.  And once he arrives he will begin talking about his next visit here ALL. WEEKEND. LONG.  But there is one thing Rick won't do.  He won't pee on my floor.  And for that reason alone... I welcome the trade off. 

Talk away Rick.  Just keep your bathroom clean.

Back Where He Belongs

If you've ever wondered what adopting 3 special needs children can do to a biological only child, let me tell you this:  It's not pretty.

Coming off of the Worst Summer Ever and deciding to keep Emerson home while we put "pieces back together" was probably a terrible idea.  After the miscarriage last winter Emer was very distressed being away at school.  He seemed to really want to be home to reassure himself that things were OK.  As the summer progressed he began asking to stay home for a while in the hopes of being a part of things getting better.  Add to that our financial set backs with a husband in the financial industry - and the cost of tuition at his school, keeping home for a little while was actually pretty well thought out.  But not enough.

There is a reason Emerson was at a military academy last year.  Many people assume such a school only takes "bad boys."  Not true.  In fact, St. John's won't take any "bad boy."  They take boys though, who in many instances, could go bad.  Because those boys say, choose to spend an entire day on an xbox when they should be doing their home school lessons.  Because they forget to bring books home from school, or turn in homework, or can't find homework because it's in a pile on the bottom of their locker, or can't remember that they have a test... tomorrow, or would rather text girls in class than listen to the teacher, or stay up late chatting on facebook even though their mom has caught them three times and told them to go to bed...  You get the picture, right?  Basically, what St. John's Northwestern Military Academy takes is... BOYS. 

And many of these BOYS, like Emerson, become these totally amazing creatures that their parents don't even recognize after they've been there a few months.  These BOYS can make perfect beds and pass room inspection Every. Single. Morning.  These BOYS start their days with chapel and end them with a mandatory hour and a half minimum of study hour... at a desk... sitting up straight... without a computer to distract them.  That is unless a BOY has at least a 3.5 GPA.  Then he can listen to his ipod and even lean back in his chair.  Other privileges earned... and a BOY can read on his bed.  His perfectly made bed that is.  These BOYS say things like, "Yes Mam'" and "No Sir."  They hold doors.  They address adults with a Mr. or Ms. or as is often the case there, Sergent, Major or Chief.

Um, where was I?  Oh yeah - so Emer's been at home after The Worst Summer Ever and I've been home schooling him.  I've been trying to home school him.  But apparently, because I have a son who thrives on waking to a room inspection and not a mother who just wants a cup of coffee and a few minutes to check email, we weren't making a very successful team. 

I don't know how the downward spiral really kicked into gear here, but once it did, it gained momentum really really fast.  Assigned work was not completed, in frustration he'd tune out and leave an education website for a more entertaining game or chat.  I'd leave to get groceries and my BOY would sneak downstairs to the TV.  Then, he'd fall farther behind, hate himself all the more, I'd try to be all the more patient - given all that's going on and such, but eventually I'd snap.  And then my BOY would cry out things like, "Why can't I just be good?  How can the girls always be so good?  I've had everything and they had nothing.  Why can't I be like them?  I hate myself.  I suck.  Why is everything so hard?"

Gulp!  I'm not the only one in this house now who feels like a complete failure?!  I'm not the only one that is questioning everything and wondering how I got to such a place so that I can say, "I actually hate my life."?!

And on Friday night, things heated up and for the first time ever I lost it.  I mean I REALLY LOST IT.  LOST IT as in smashing a wine glass in the foyer LOST IT.  A full wine glass on hardwood floors just cleaned that very day LOST IT.  And then Brendan and I began fighting over how to handle Emerson LOST IT.  In your face screaming at my husband LOST IT -- um yeah, that would be a total first in 16 years of this marriage.

So after all this.  When Emerson went down to his bedroom and

wrote this on bed:

and this on his desk:

and this on his wall: And yes, that is the newly painted wall I spent hours on. 

But maybe no one will notice - you know, like it will just get lost in the digital

camo paint job and all...

I guess all I could say is:  Yes my BOY.  Today.  Tonight. This week.  This year.  I couldn't agree with you more.  (I like that the wall graffiti is just below his picture of Ralph Waldo Emerson - his name sake.  Do you think ol' Ralph ever wrote something  quiet so succinct?)

There was really no discussion about it.  I think Brendan and I were both up all night thinking the exact same thing.  And so on Saturday morning I called St. John's in tears.  Two hours later we arrived with our packed car, filled out the forms and signed the check.  Emerson sat there in a shameful and shocked silence.  BUT slowly he changed.  He began to sit a little taller and his eyes even brightened a bit.  The admissions director took him over to his dorm to get some boys to help him with his stuff.  When he returned the director said, "Well, he was greeted as though the 'Prodigal Son' had just returned." 

Before we left we went to his room to say good-bye.  The BOYS who know me greeted me enthusiastically with their, "Hello Mam'"s and several more came by to welcome Emer back.

With teary eyes I hugged my BOY good-bye.  We both have a lot to process and we both are hopefully in better places to do that.  I need to drop off some things for him tomorrow and I know he'll already be returning to the amazing Emer I know and love.

But still it's hard.  I really miss my BOY.

San Francisco Bay Area - Day 2. Never Mind. Trip Over.

After our lovely little stay at Water's Edge we went inland to the river delta for Saturday night.  What Brendan was doing there is too long a tale to tell and I simply enjoyed a quiet night to myself.

On Sunday we drove back in to Berkeley.  Brendan booked us an amazing room at the Berkeley City Club.  It's a beautiful historic building with quaint rooms decorated more like a bed and breakfast than a generic hotel.  My favorite part is that they don't put TV's in their rooms.  I think that's a true get-away. 

Monday I enjoyed another relaxing day to myself.  I was in our room waiting for a friend to come by for a visit, reading a book and enjoying this amazing view:

AHHHhhhhhhhhhh.  Isn't that beautiful?!?!

when, .... *Ring*, *Ring*.  Well, actually my mobile phone does not go *Ring*, *Ring*.  It plays the song from the musical Wicked - "Defying Gravity."  Which is very ironic because I don't think I'm defying ANYTHING these days... much less gravity.

Me: Hello

Her: Hi.  This is Jen from the YMCA after-school program.  We're having issues with Jose today and wondering if the sitter could pick him up early.  He just peed all over the boys bathroom floor - right inside the door.

Crisis managed.  Until... an email on Tuesday from Jose's special ed teacher with basically a "We need to talk" message.  Apparently on Tuesday Jose punched a kid.  (This is a behavior we have not seen in him in at least a year.)  And THEN, on Wednesday when he was "serving his time" during recess in the office... he went into the teachers' bathroom and peed all over their floor.

Um yeah.  Great get-away.  Can't wait to go home.  Wow, do I miss home.  NOT!

Meanwhile... while all this is going on back at home, Emerson is off with Brendan's parents because due to recent events we decided it was not a good idea for him to be left home alone to his studies while we were gone.  Our sitter, Andrea is in classes all day and my Dad was gone for most of the days as well.  Saying Emerson's home schooling experience has shown some areas of concern for self-discipline, is being very, well...  nice.

Emerson returned home on Tuesday and spent the entire Wednesday, while we were traveling home, on the xbox.  Apparently his friend let him borrow their wireless fixture, plus a free one-month on xbox live, and the temptation was just too great... to not do anything... but play on the thing All. Day. Long.  And because Emer has a conscience and wants to do and be great things, as the day comes to a close he begins his downward spiral into self-loathe... just in time for Brendan and I to arrive home from our very delayed flight.

I'm glad I had a chance to see a new part of the country.  I'm glad I got to spend some time with my husband.  But quite honestly, with the price to be paid here.  I wish I never left home. 

That's actually saying a lot because, I don't really like home these days.

San Francisco Bay Area - Day 1

As my father-in-law (a retired airline captain) says, "Time to spare?  Travel by air."  Delay, delay and delay... missed flight.. and "you've been upgraded to first class."  Ahhhhhh.  I love those words.

We arrived at our hotel in Tiburon, just across the Golden Gate Bridge at 2am Pacific Coast Time. 

Brendan was up at 6am and off to see clients for the day.  I slept in a bit more and awoke to this view from our room.  Not bad eh?

I called for my rental car and took off to hike for a few hours in the Muir Woods National Park.  I started off with a crowd.  Lots of kids.  Bus loads of kids.  Kids like the kids I just left at home for a week. 

I even took the "trail less traveled"...

but I still couldn't escape all those kids.

About an hour into the woods I finally heard it.  Silence.  Ahhhhhhhhh.  I found a fallen log and sat down and enjoyed... all that silence... what a beautiful moment.

Along the way I found lots of big trees.  A closer look at them often reveled the fact that they weren't one big tree, but rather a cluster of a few trees. Here's a more obvious example:

My hike took me into some areas I really had no business being alone in.  I lack the skill and equipment for some of what I traversed.  But the thrill of being alone and becoming exhausted by something I was doing for ME - was more than enough to keep me going.

Plus, I knew that once I got back to the hotel I'd be greated by Brendan and complimentary wine and cheese on the deck overlooking the bay. 

Beautiful views to start and end my day!

Prepare for Take Off

I've got a few posts to polish in my queue and several more swarming in my brain... but no time to put it out here.

In a couple hours Brendan and I leave for San Francisco.  He's going on business and I'm tagging along.  Over the past few day I've organized all that will occur here while I'm away.  This task has taken well over 20 hours and involved contacting at least 18 people to pull it off.

18 people... so I can go away for a few days?  No wonder I'm so tired. 

I picked up a couple good books for the flight.  Reality is: I'll be sound asleep before takeoff.