Photo via Malls of America.
For more groovy retro shopping stuff, see this post at Kitschy Kitschy Coo.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
You can take the kid out of the city, but you can't take the city out of the kid.
Sometimes, this is how I feel about where I live...
Photo via Malls of America.
For more groovy retro shopping stuff, see this post at Kitschy Kitschy Coo.
Photo via Malls of America.
For more groovy retro shopping stuff, see this post at Kitschy Kitschy Coo.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Dogs In Hats
Awhile ago I posted at the end of an article about old chalkware collectibles that I was looking for a little hat for the large German Shepherd dog vintage chalk statue... Well, we got one in a lot of dolls we bought at auction:
Mr. Schultz, the GDS, is quite happy to have his ravaged ears less noticeable -- tho he does hope for more of a canvas fishing number. It would be more masculine. But for now it does the trick.
Not only is it a perfect fit for the plaster pooch, but it fits Miss Toodles...
It's quite difficult to take a photo of her. Toodles "Squirrel Face" Davidson III, a Cairn Terrier, isn't the sit-still type. But we eventually got a photo that wasn't all a blur.
Toodles, aka Toodle-Oodle-Oodle-O's (and her Toodle-Oodle-Oodle-Nose) is really my dog Ween's dog. I'll have to share pics of him too -- but that's even trickier. Ween is a mutt, and apparently part Aborigine, for he fears the camera. He thinks that box will steal his sweet soul.
Mr. Schultz, the GDS, is quite happy to have his ravaged ears less noticeable -- tho he does hope for more of a canvas fishing number. It would be more masculine. But for now it does the trick.
Not only is it a perfect fit for the plaster pooch, but it fits Miss Toodles...
It's quite difficult to take a photo of her. Toodles "Squirrel Face" Davidson III, a Cairn Terrier, isn't the sit-still type. But we eventually got a photo that wasn't all a blur.
Toodles, aka Toodle-Oodle-Oodle-O's (and her Toodle-Oodle-Oodle-Nose) is really my dog Ween's dog. I'll have to share pics of him too -- but that's even trickier. Ween is a mutt, and apparently part Aborigine, for he fears the camera. He thinks that box will steal his sweet soul.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Homemade, On-The-Fly Greeting Card For Kat
My dear friend is so sad.
It hurts me so to see her sad.
What hurts me most is knowing that however unintentionally, I have a part in her pain.
I am truly sorry, both for your sadness and my part in it.
Perhaps knowing this helps. And if we could hug, perhaps I could be forgiven.
Maybe you'd even smile -- and mean it.
(Drawn & written in less than 3 minutes -- including using phone to take the photo.)
Protecting Our Kids, Literature-ly
While we are busy removing the cigarette from the author's photo (in our quest to remove smoking from our collective history, the publisher should also make the following changes to Goodnight Moon. *wink*
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Who Doesn't Like Cute Animals?
I know I'm awfully biased since I interviewed the folks at Noah's Pals, but I have to say just how much I love their blog. It's full of cute animal facts (and images) and written so kids can understand it.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Autie Moms
Autie Moms on MySpace has a great blog on Autism resources.
I missed the Larry King show on the subject, but there's a transcript here. I did see the show that The View dedicated to Autism and was a bit upset by a few things -- such as celebs making this a cause du jour, and the fact that there was/is free help -- if your child is under 3 (mine is 17, so we missed that). I watched the whole show and broke down in tears afterwards for many reasons... I feel like a child screaming, "It's not fair!"
I missed the Larry King show on the subject, but there's a transcript here. I did see the show that The View dedicated to Autism and was a bit upset by a few things -- such as celebs making this a cause du jour, and the fact that there was/is free help -- if your child is under 3 (mine is 17, so we missed that). I watched the whole show and broke down in tears afterwards for many reasons... I feel like a child screaming, "It's not fair!"
Monday, March 26, 2007
Give Your Mama a Llama
I not only am delighted by Noah's Pals, a new collectible on the market which is great for children and families, but I got to interview the owners!I really like that generations can collect together as an activity, as well as learn about animals -- and the animals are affordable. (Thank heaven!)
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
yet? If so, Friday, March 02, 2007
Happy Birthday, Cat in the Hat!
Inspired by the Life-magazine article Why Can't Johnny Read?, Dr. Seuss' The Cat in the Hat turns 50 today.
To celebrate, you may buy the book -- but most importantly, spend some time today reading with your child. And if he or she is 'too old for that, mom,' spend time reading in front of your child so they know the love & importance of reading.
Last weekend, my six year old son read to me -- an entire book for the first time. (I did my best not to cry with happiness through the whole thing.) He only consented to read one book to me, but afterwards I made sure he 'caught' me reading myself. And then, something even more miraculous occurred: we had a conversation about a book. Our first real conversation about a book!
I was reading a a biography of Tiptree (a copy borrowed from Gracie, who finally did her review) and Hunter came in the room. He looked at the book and said, "There's no pictures in there." Derek laughed. And I showed him that there were indeed photos, and he asked what the book was about.
"A lady who, a long time ago, went to the deepest jungles of Africa -- at a time when no other white people had. Africa was so 'new' that there were no elephants or gorillas or lions in zoos and not many here had seen them. She was just 5 years old and had to be carried in a hammock-type sling by men who had never seen a little white girl. She liked Africa, but was angry she couldn't hunt like her dad -- and her mom. She grew up and became an author. She wrote science fiction stories -- stories about men & women who traveled in spaceships to different planets. But she couldn't write as a woman, so she used a man's name to write and publish her stories. She was a woman, but everyone thought she was a man."
"Cool," he said, with eyes as big as saucers. "Is she still alive?"
"No," I said.
"How did she die?"
"I don't know, I haven't read that far yet..."
"Will you tell me?"
"Sure," I said. My eyes welling with tears... We had had our first real book conversation. Now I know he understands the power of reading.
The sad thing is, now that I've finished the book and know how she dies, I am hoping he won't ask me. A murder suicide is not something I want to share with a six year old.
To celebrate, you may buy the book -- but most importantly, spend some time today reading with your child. And if he or she is 'too old for that, mom,' spend time reading in front of your child so they know the love & importance of reading.
Last weekend, my six year old son read to me -- an entire book for the first time. (I did my best not to cry with happiness through the whole thing.) He only consented to read one book to me, but afterwards I made sure he 'caught' me reading myself. And then, something even more miraculous occurred: we had a conversation about a book. Our first real conversation about a book!
I was reading a a biography of Tiptree (a copy borrowed from Gracie, who finally did her review) and Hunter came in the room. He looked at the book and said, "There's no pictures in there." Derek laughed. And I showed him that there were indeed photos, and he asked what the book was about.
"A lady who, a long time ago, went to the deepest jungles of Africa -- at a time when no other white people had. Africa was so 'new' that there were no elephants or gorillas or lions in zoos and not many here had seen them. She was just 5 years old and had to be carried in a hammock-type sling by men who had never seen a little white girl. She liked Africa, but was angry she couldn't hunt like her dad -- and her mom. She grew up and became an author. She wrote science fiction stories -- stories about men & women who traveled in spaceships to different planets. But she couldn't write as a woman, so she used a man's name to write and publish her stories. She was a woman, but everyone thought she was a man."
"Cool," he said, with eyes as big as saucers. "Is she still alive?"
"No," I said.
"How did she die?"
"I don't know, I haven't read that far yet..."
"Will you tell me?"
"Sure," I said. My eyes welling with tears... We had had our first real book conversation. Now I know he understands the power of reading.
The sad thing is, now that I've finished the book and know how she dies, I am hoping he won't ask me. A murder suicide is not something I want to share with a six year old.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
What's All Going On
Moms, you need to know this: Panties that do not stain are now on the market!
Aren't the rest of you worried about the abundance of library closings?!
Professional commitments keep me from posting here much -- in case you missed it, we signed Randal Radic and we're in the news for the "suckers" that we are -- apparently this will be the death of us lol
Meanwhile, Suburban Diva made the Chicago Trib!
I'm working to get back to it more, posting about parenting is what I mean. But meanwhile, here's what hubby has to say about our lives -- he says is so much better than I can right now ;)
Aren't the rest of you worried about the abundance of library closings?!
Professional commitments keep me from posting here much -- in case you missed it, we signed Randal Radic and we're in the news for the "suckers" that we are -- apparently this will be the death of us lol
Meanwhile, Suburban Diva made the Chicago Trib!
I'm working to get back to it more, posting about parenting is what I mean. But meanwhile, here's what hubby has to say about our lives -- he says is so much better than I can right now ;)
Friday, February 09, 2007
Seventeen Years, Now What?
On August 15th of 2006, my 17 year old daughter moved out of my home. No ordinary parenting moment, this was not classic empty nest syndrome due to my daughter maturing and moving out on her own to fly solo: My daughter moved into a 24/7 care facility group home.
As some of you know, my daughter has Asperger's. A relatively newly recognized 'location' on the Autism continuum, we've suffered for many years without a proper diagnosis (and complications of our family history) along with the condition itself. I've known for years that she was fast approaching a level of care that a work-from-home or even stay-at-home mom could provide...
She will not have the life I dreamt of when I first held her -- not any version of it. Instead of wishing her love and family of her own my largest nightmare is her giving me grandchildren -- and of how they were conceived. Instead of parental worries & disapproval over little things, I need to worry not about what career she chooses, but if she can hold a job -- and will she get there and back home safely? She needs reminding and policing of such things as basic hygiene and other tasks which affect her health wise and socially.
While relieved that she's now getting the care and training that she needs to reach for things that many take for granted -- I was also devastated.
If every mom or parent self-identifies with their role, imagine how it feels to be the parent of a child who has remained perpetually emotionally about 4 or 5 years old. That's 17 years of parenting at a toddler/pre-school level yet dealing with the issues of hormones (imagine explaining menstruation, love vs sex, masturbation, and abstinence to a small child), problems with peer relations such as drugs, dating, and driving (mainstreaming is utterly cruel), and sibling issues (if you think a new brother 11 years later to an only child is rough, try one with Autism -- and then there's step-family issues compounded to the max). That's 17 years of very hands on parenting.
That's 17 years of being a warrior because in the business of parenting kids with Autism, you are an advocate, a researcher, an educator, and a whipping boy. You lose friends, you have difficult family relationships, and you even have that child used against you in court proceedings. That's 17 years of being a special-needs-kids-mom.
That's 17 years of my identity (good, bad or otherwise) being 'Mom.' Then, in one day, Poof.
It's not that I don't see her anymore (she's 7 minutes away and we are together as a family at least once a week), or that I don't still have to do things for her (obviously my advocacy continues as before), but I am less 'Mom' than I was. The physical and emotional relief are mixed with loss not just of her, but of my own identity.
It's not that I didn't know it was coming. I not only had to work to get her this care but explain it all to her and the rest of our family as well. And there were the countless supportive discussions with Az, who deserves awards for, well, for being him. But all of that kept me busy. It was pragmatic 'must do' Mom stuff. Even dealing with her emotions and reactions to the move was about her and her needs, not me. So it wasn't until after we moved her into the group home that it all hit me.
Who am I if not always Allie's Mom?
Or maybe it's, "Who am I when not Allie's Mom?" because we are just now organizing to retain guardianship of this woman-child before she turns 18 in May. My parenting will not end or lessen as most parenting does. And yet here I am in a new place.
After 17 years of, "Who is Allie, what can she do, and what must I do for her?" it's now also, "Who am I and what can I do for/with me?"
The answers are coming.
As some of you know, my daughter has Asperger's. A relatively newly recognized 'location' on the Autism continuum, we've suffered for many years without a proper diagnosis (and complications of our family history) along with the condition itself. I've known for years that she was fast approaching a level of care that a work-from-home or even stay-at-home mom could provide...
She will not have the life I dreamt of when I first held her -- not any version of it. Instead of wishing her love and family of her own my largest nightmare is her giving me grandchildren -- and of how they were conceived. Instead of parental worries & disapproval over little things, I need to worry not about what career she chooses, but if she can hold a job -- and will she get there and back home safely? She needs reminding and policing of such things as basic hygiene and other tasks which affect her health wise and socially.
While relieved that she's now getting the care and training that she needs to reach for things that many take for granted -- I was also devastated.
If every mom or parent self-identifies with their role, imagine how it feels to be the parent of a child who has remained perpetually emotionally about 4 or 5 years old. That's 17 years of parenting at a toddler/pre-school level yet dealing with the issues of hormones (imagine explaining menstruation, love vs sex, masturbation, and abstinence to a small child), problems with peer relations such as drugs, dating, and driving (mainstreaming is utterly cruel), and sibling issues (if you think a new brother 11 years later to an only child is rough, try one with Autism -- and then there's step-family issues compounded to the max). That's 17 years of very hands on parenting.
That's 17 years of being a warrior because in the business of parenting kids with Autism, you are an advocate, a researcher, an educator, and a whipping boy. You lose friends, you have difficult family relationships, and you even have that child used against you in court proceedings. That's 17 years of being a special-needs-kids-mom.
That's 17 years of my identity (good, bad or otherwise) being 'Mom.' Then, in one day, Poof.
It's not that I don't see her anymore (she's 7 minutes away and we are together as a family at least once a week), or that I don't still have to do things for her (obviously my advocacy continues as before), but I am less 'Mom' than I was. The physical and emotional relief are mixed with loss not just of her, but of my own identity.
It's not that I didn't know it was coming. I not only had to work to get her this care but explain it all to her and the rest of our family as well. And there were the countless supportive discussions with Az, who deserves awards for, well, for being him. But all of that kept me busy. It was pragmatic 'must do' Mom stuff. Even dealing with her emotions and reactions to the move was about her and her needs, not me. So it wasn't until after we moved her into the group home that it all hit me.
Who am I if not always Allie's Mom?
Or maybe it's, "Who am I when not Allie's Mom?" because we are just now organizing to retain guardianship of this woman-child before she turns 18 in May. My parenting will not end or lessen as most parenting does. And yet here I am in a new place.
After 17 years of, "Who is Allie, what can she do, and what must I do for her?" it's now also, "Who am I and what can I do for/with me?"
The answers are coming.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Anthropomorphic Nightmares
I'm not a fan of anthropomorphic items. Frankly, they frighten me. Some people think it's cute, but why do we do it?
Why this human need to make things look human? And when we do put human faces on these non-humans, why do we do inhuman things to them? Like use their faces to wipe dishes, stick utensils & tools in their backsides, or put hot dirty spoons on their faces? That's pretty dehumanizing, isn't it? And that's just the veggies! We do even worse things to anthropomorphic animals -- or to anthropomorphize real animals -- we even put faces on food items.
So when we took the kids to see Open Season, I was horrified to find them using the rabbits as ammunition.
Sure, rabbits may be some of the most disposable animals on the planet, but sheesh, they are alive. And here, in a movie were we have talking bears, deer, porcupines, squirrels etc, banding together to save themselves from hunters, we have these animals in solidarity tossing bunnies against windows, launching them like hand grenades from deer antlers and in general, using & abusing the hell out of them. Just when the movie ends and I begin telling my husband how disgusting it was to see bunnies so battered, and they splat a rabbit on the 'screen' as the ending. ARG!
Variety says, "Rabbits, in particular, haven't been deployed this cutely and inventively since 'Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit.'" And RampWay Online says, "But by far, the funniest things in the movie were the rabbits. It's not what the rabbits did; it's what was done to the rabbits. They were like an all-purpose animal! When Elliot sneaks Boog out of his garage for a sugar binge at the local store, he gets his attention by throwing rabbits at the window. After Boog gets wet, he uses about three rabbits as a towel to wipe his face. When the animals begin their assault on the hunters, they use the rabbits as gas masks for protection against the skunks' cloud of stank. The funniest part was at the end when someone yells "Rabbit fight!" and Boog literally balls up a rabbit and throws it."
Am I alone here? Am I the only one who gets this?
What's worse, at the official Open Season movie site, Sony Pictures has not one but two games in which children (and adults I suppose) can use the rabbits as weapons and otherwise abuse them: Rabbit Fight and Whack-A-Rabbit.
Man, that's just too creepy for words...
Why this human need to make things look human? And when we do put human faces on these non-humans, why do we do inhuman things to them? Like use their faces to wipe dishes, stick utensils & tools in their backsides, or put hot dirty spoons on their faces? That's pretty dehumanizing, isn't it? And that's just the veggies! We do even worse things to anthropomorphic animals -- or to anthropomorphize real animals -- we even put faces on food items.
So when we took the kids to see Open Season, I was horrified to find them using the rabbits as ammunition.
Sure, rabbits may be some of the most disposable animals on the planet, but sheesh, they are alive. And here, in a movie were we have talking bears, deer, porcupines, squirrels etc, banding together to save themselves from hunters, we have these animals in solidarity tossing bunnies against windows, launching them like hand grenades from deer antlers and in general, using & abusing the hell out of them. Just when the movie ends and I begin telling my husband how disgusting it was to see bunnies so battered, and they splat a rabbit on the 'screen' as the ending. ARG!
Variety says, "Rabbits, in particular, haven't been deployed this cutely and inventively since 'Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit.'" And RampWay Online says, "But by far, the funniest things in the movie were the rabbits. It's not what the rabbits did; it's what was done to the rabbits. They were like an all-purpose animal! When Elliot sneaks Boog out of his garage for a sugar binge at the local store, he gets his attention by throwing rabbits at the window. After Boog gets wet, he uses about three rabbits as a towel to wipe his face. When the animals begin their assault on the hunters, they use the rabbits as gas masks for protection against the skunks' cloud of stank. The funniest part was at the end when someone yells "Rabbit fight!" and Boog literally balls up a rabbit and throws it."
Am I alone here? Am I the only one who gets this?
What's worse, at the official Open Season movie site, Sony Pictures has not one but two games in which children (and adults I suppose) can use the rabbits as weapons and otherwise abuse them: Rabbit Fight and Whack-A-Rabbit.
Man, that's just too creepy for words...
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