Seeking to Become - May 2012

And they said one to another, Did not our heart burn within us, while [Jesus] talked with us by the way, and while he opened to us the scriptures?

Luke 24:32

With May upon us, I look ahead in an attempt to set a positive tone that has been lacking in my heart. I profess faith, yet I have given despair a comfortable place within me lately. I try to reflect on my blessings, remember the monthly Seeking to Become challenge I set for myself, pray, and more. Even with all of these efforts, I seem to get overwhelmed easily nowadays. Life is such a challenge for many of us. Health problems, lack of sufficient employment, relationship difficulties, and the list goes on of excuses for giving up which we could embrace; however, we must not.

The Savior of the World is not physically walking or talking with us right now, although we have the ability to invite his holy spirit to commune with us by reading the scriptures. He can abide with us in our darkest of nights as well as rejoice in our earthly triumphs. This month, please join me in searching the scriptures more diligently for answers that we may have our hearts burn within us and partake of his loving atonement.

Additionally, I would like to share with you a hymn which gives me comfort--reminding me to call upon his holy name for peace and comfort.




For best enjoyment, please remember to pause the music player located near the bottom of this site prior to playing the video.

Related Link:

Seeking to Become 

Girls Night Out with Crush

Arrival!

The Pizza Delivery Friend

Room Service Cart {before shot}

Room Service Cart {aftermath}

surviving the storm

My heart experiences unbreakable pain
as I strain to survive past all of this.
Thought I would be his forever,
yet the storm weathered me
and  it is over. It is done.
Now I push forward,
nearly destroyed,
half breathing,
half living,
for them
and for
me
...

Too many questions

Sorry, Captain America, about my camera not doing you justice.

I have been thinking about a lot of stuff: family, school, church, new and renewed friendships, even best friendships, movies, money, summertime. I think so much I barely take time to enjoy this ride called life. I don't really know what to do about my incessant thinking problem, but something has got to give. The situation has become so complicated I don't even know where to start except to rethink things, but isn't that a bit counter-intuitive?

The truth of the matter is I don't know what to do with myself as my entire life is in a transition state. I have proven my mad skills of breathing and near-flunking out of school. Sometimes I barely recognize myself. I have nearly forgotten what it feels like to feel taken care of--by parents, a loving spouse, and even myself. How did this happen? I don't understand how I could get this way. It is perplexing and I am left with a barrage of questions that only feed my overthinking:

Who am I morphing into and who will I be when this is all over?
Why did I not buy some chocolate when I was at the store?!
Will it ever be over? 
What is all this heartache doing to my children?
What does Survival of the Divorce turn people into?
Am I ridiculous or what?
Do people like my writing or are they just being nice?
Why do people justify judging and ostracizing me?
Why do I care so much and how could I justify not caring as much?
What happened to my friend? 
Where will all these traumatically dramatic experiences take me?

Why can't some hunky Avenger just swoop in and save me?

And just so you know, I'm not making this stuff up. I actually think like that from time to time. Well, nearly every day.

Just call me The Worry Whisperer.

Top Ten –licious Words Every Geek Should Know

1. Purplicious: because purple is simply the best color ever and that’s just how the world works right now. I’m writing this article, not you. And no, I won’t apologize. ;)

2. Divalicious: The ultimate of all other (besides purplicious) –licious words because the diva said so, that’s why. Now just sit down and mind your business if you don’t agree. 

3. Fabulicious: Fabulous on steroids.

4. Yumalicious: Using this word to describe food makes it taste all that much more yummy and delicious when combined in such a fabulicious manner.

5. Glittalicious: Glitter sounds too proper. Glitta gets it right. And labeling anything glittalicious morphs it into the hottest sparkly thing yet viewed by the naked eye.

6. Dorklicious: An attempt to make acting like a dork cool. Using this word is effective in 5 out of 10 trials. Use with caution. 

7. Uberlicious: Larger than life and totally in your face good stuff. 

8. Dramalicious: This word is in direct reference to anyone who can pull off drama in the most dramatic way possible that does NOT bug the garbage out of people.

9. Freelicious: Getting something for free that is so fantastic it makes you feel like a rock star.

10. [your name] licious: a fun yet slightly overdone way of communicating to others you feel (or think you are) sexy.

 

11. Geeklicious: a word that does not make any sense whatsoever except for the fact that only a geek would put 11 words in a Top Ten list.

TwitterVerse: Volume I

#Haiku


newly acquainted ~ my mind cannot forget thee ~ even whilst sleeping

running in the dark ~ toward everything and nothing ~ trapped between two worlds

your sweetness alights ~ providing new confidence ~ awakening tears

step out of the night ~ Suffocated and Strangled ~ bask in warming light

Love is elusive ~ sought, lost, destroyed, regained, famed ~ a passionate dream

quietly they sleep ~ if only for the moment ~ peace envelops me

waking in silence ~ the nightmares never ceasing ~ tears flooding my face

blinded by chaos ~ i cannot see how it ends ~ forever is now

extraordinary ~ nearly imaginary ~ precious missing friend

#HaikuTrilogy

suddenly appears ~ a vision of happiness ~ dispelling sadness 
came and went quickly ~ like a hot flash of lightning ~ searing to the core
unforgettable ~ aurora borealis ~ irreplaceable 

#Haiku #Alliteration
 
sun shining above ~ blossoms bursting in splendor ~ miraculous sight

heart-piercing poison ~ incites pernicious stirrings ~ painful words of love 

#MicroPoetry 

tonight lasts until ~ we cease speaking of memories ~ and making more along the way

there once was a brat ~ and he was more than a brat ~ and that was that

driving driving driving ~ waiting waiting waiting ~ going no where real fast ~ wishing I were there

crying is what I do best ~ because I have no rest ~ no rest from all the worry and care ~ that your lack of love gave me to bear

sunshine will be my friend ~ someday when the sadness ends ~ you and i will find each other ~ basking in a love that lasts forever

Purple People Eater

The other day, a new friend of mine wrote a whimsical haiku about me.

One-eyed, one-horned queen 

Your stilettos match your crown

Thick purple scepter

~ Anonymous Friend of Mine

The word combinations puzzled me. I could not see why in the world one eye and one horn would apply to me (as I have two eyes and zero horns). Also, I rarely--if ever--have had poetry written for/about me and I wasn't sure if the verses were intended to be friendly, funny, mean, or mocking. With all these uncertainties running around my head, I inquired about the intended imagery. This person then referred me to the haiku-inspiring song Purple People Eater by Sheb Wooley (1958). I totally laughed when I hit the link and it started playing! I have not heard this song in a long time. A flood of happy childhood memories rushed to my mind causing a smile on my lips and a sparkle in my eye.

Thanks goes to Anonymous Friend of Mine for interrupting my ridiculously sad existence with something of such irresistible, whimsical delight.



p.s. Remember to pause the music player located near the bottom of this site prior to pressing play on the youtube link.

My Battle Cry: Canta y no llores

Cielito lindo is a Mexican Ranchero song traditionally played by mariachi bands and I am thoroughly enchanted by it. About a month ago, a fellow student in my Spanish class did a presentation which included a video clip of Cielito lindo being sung by a large stadium crowd. I had heard the song many times before, but had never been able to understand any of the words except for the ay, ay, ay parts. Comprehending this poetic and beautiful song moved me so much that I have yet to get that feeling out of my heart and mind.

Each verse has its own poetic merit, but the chorus speaks to my soul:

Ay, ay, ay, ay,
Canta y no llores,
Porque cantando se alegran,
Cielito lindo, los corazones.

English translation:

Sing and don't cry.
For singing gladdens our hearts,
beautiful sweetheart.

(or something very close to that)

The part canta y no llores is in the mandato form of Spanish. So in other words, we are highly suggested (pretty much commanded) to sing and not cry. Sometimes I need to be told a thing or two and this song moves me to sing and forget all my worries. This song has brought me momentary joy in stressful moments. It has reminded me of the healing power of singing beautiful music. Music has always been a big part of my life. My parents taught me to love all music that is lovely and good, regardless of genre or origin. At times like these, when life overwhelms, gratitude wells up into my heart for all the uplifting music I am blessed to be familiar with.

I have not been singing like I should, but I will remedy the situation today. I want to sing and not cry. I want to feel the joy God offers me daily. I want to attain and maintain a gladdened, happy heart.

Muchas gracias to the songwriter Quirino Mendoza y Cortés for capturing this folkloric song, adding more words and a heavenly tune, making it unforgettable and gladdening. 

DEATH BY HOMEWORK

Ok. I didn't really die, but it came close. At one desperate point, my entire body was being upheld by my forehead resting on a whiteboard. And yes, that is a true story. Embarrassing, dramatic, ridiculous, and very true.

In authentic pre-service teacher fashion, I reflected upon how I could get to such a low point and I came up with a description of myself that helped me come to an understanding of why I might be experiencing a tinge of insanity:

I am a mother of four children--one of which has autism and epilepsy; and another one of which has ADHD to beat the band and plays tuba in the band (need I say more?); and another one of which is akin to yelling every. single. time. things don't go her way (can we say mini-me?); and the last of the another ones of which won't/can't stop having accidents that cause decidedly wet, smelly laundry; and all of which have this thing for playing games together that somehow cause this magical thing to happen where confetti-sized paper, trash, and toys fall off their bodies leaving behind great heaping piles that take two hours for an adult to clean up--who goes to school part-time, who is getting divorced, who used to be an overachiever until life broke her down, who cares too much sometimes about what people think, who doesn't fit in anywhere anymore at anytime no matter what and feels all of this quite keenly. So yeah. And did I mention I have to go in public to grocery shop and stuff?

I also reflected on how I coped with getting through the past few weeks of the semester that may or may not have been very healthy. Instead of working really hard to eat good, healthy brain food, I embraced my inner food addict and bought the trashiest junk food known to woman for my work sessions. I twisted healthy stuff into a binge fest. I have had toxic amounts of Peeps, Whoppers, grape Red Vines, Raisin Bran with a ton of sugar on top, doughnuts, Swedish meatballs, pierogies, Zingers, and those lovely purple Snoballs (as pictured above).  I wish I would have done better, but I am not in a good place right now and I figured I needed to work with the skills I've got to get things done. And I finally got all the papers and projects done. Hallelujah! I really thought it wouldn't be possible, but after much prayer, pondering, and working as hard as humanly possible, it all worked out-- despite my horrendous brain food famine. 

And so the moral of the story is:

Work as hard as you can. Give it all you've got. Then, turn the rest over to the Lord and He will make up the difference.

I know--I am His poster child.

Riding the Rails

 

 

 

 

 

These Personhood of the Traveling Grape Soda aka PTGS photographs are courtesy of:

Laurel Elizabeth Photography

Crush would like to borrow some words from Jessie J ~ I'm feeling sexy and free

Social Media Friends: IRL or not so much?

There was an article on a blog I read during the Slice of Life Story Challenge in March (which means I don't know which one exactly since I read so many) that brought up the topic of friends we make through social media--blogs, comments, twitter, etc. I have been pondering on it so much lately because I too have had the thought cross my mind: What happens if my social media friends just stop posting or tweeting? I would not know if they just decided to stop cold-turkey or if a tragedy had occurred. There would be no way to know and no way to help if they needed help. There is not much I can do, so the rational person within me says to stop thinking about it because you can't do anything anyway. But the worry bug bites (and it does quite often) and I start thinking about how I need to give my passwords to my BFF and maybe someone else so they can send a post out along the wires in the event that I can no longer communicate, just in case people might care if I inexplicably dropped out of the picture one day. I know it sounds ridiculous, yet I don't think it really is when you think about it. So many people consider social media not real life and refer to things going on outside of social media as IRL (in real life), but aren't I actually, in real life, sharing my thoughts, creativity, and parts of myself with everyone here reading this?

Please don't misunderstand. I recognize that my live interactions are different, but I refuse to discount the friendships I make with genuine, real people even if I have never met you. There are countless people who visit my blog, leave a comment, and by doing so become part of my support team--part of my real life. I have made friends with a quite a few men and women whom I would miss if I never heard from them again. There are even a handful of them I would miss after a couple days of not interacting because we have become good friends. There are two sweeties on twitter who, almost daily, wish me a good night or a good morning or do a shout out to their peeps about how I am so awesome. Who wouldn't miss that?! Those are definitely part of the rays of sunshine I have glimmering through my tempestuous storm clouds-- in real life. I feel like I have a support group of the virtual sort for my autism aspect of life. One of my autism buddies lives in Hawaii and we have leaned on each other during some really hard moments these past few months. I have a friend who I can tell pretty much anything and I never feel judged. We interact nearly every day even if it's just to make sure the other is alright--especially since we all know I'm not doing alright lately. even the opposite of alright.

So anyways.

This friend is who prompted me to write on the topic. I haven't had any interactions since Friday, and I know it hasn't been that long but it feels like a long time since I have grown used to having that particular friend as a facet of my daily sanity support staff.  I hope all is well. I hope my worries are not justified. The thought comes to mind that maybe I have become a bore. Or the opposite-- a car accident has occurred and my friend is suffering or worse. But, I stop myself and recognize I cannot change any of it. People find others boring after awhile sometimes, accidents happen, and sometimes there are unexplainables in life.

My life is crazy right now. I can barely keep breathing straight. But one thing I know is that I appreciate all my friends no matter the source from whence you came. 

I talk about the friends who do things for/with me to offer thanks for them. Well, I hope every single one of my virtual friends knows how much you make a difference, how you are helping me IRL, how I count you as for real friends (FRF).

And my biggest hope is I might make a positive difference in your real life too.

Source: twowritingteachers.wordpress.com via The Purple on Pinterest

Seeking to Become - April 2012

Seeking to Become

Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness. 

Isaiah 41: 10 

I cannot think of a better way to celebrate Easter than to focus on how to become more like the Savior, Jesus Christ. The load I have had to bear is nothing in comparison to that of my Redeemer, and I give thanks this Easter morning for the brightness of hope I have available to me because of his infinite sacrifice.

This month I want to focus on the strength and power that the Atonement offers, enabling me to cast out fear and dismay. Christ set the perfect example by facing death without fear. Also, he promises to help and uphold--even with his hand. All I need do is trust that he is with me and allow his holy refreshing to wash over me as I strive to move forward with my life in joy and gladness.

Related Link:

The Beginning of Seeking to Become

the day before Easter

Bunny Cake: inspired by K. Cummins

On the Saturday before Easter, we do the egg coloring, Easter egg hunts, crafting, and preparatory baking. Doing it this way, we have a day focused on the Easter Bunny and save Easter Sunday to focus on celebrating the resurrection of Christ.

This morning, we spent time with our neighbors. We started off with a short scriptural lesson about the events surrounding the atonement, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus, which elaborated on some of the symbolism we find in our Easter festivities. Then we started in on the fun stuff: coloring eggs and making bunny cakes.

After all that, my friend and one of her sons piled into our van with us and we drove out to BYU for a hugeamongous Easter Egg Hunt hosted by Cosmo (the BYU mascot) and the Easter Bunny. I totally forgot to take a picture of the football field, but let me tell you, it was covered with candy, eggs, and prizes. Just covered. The children had a blast swooping down on all the treats. Even my autistic, toddler-like teenager was able to get a bunch of fun stuff. It was so well organized and entertaining.

So now I am cleaning up the kitchen, preparing jell-o jiggler eggs, salads, and trying to not go insane with all the hyper, hopped-up-on-sugar monkey people running around the house.

I can't think of a title so this is what you get

Yesterday, I realized what the Slice of Life Story Challenge did for me in March. It got me to think outside of myself and not allow silence to creep in. I might have written about some of my hard things, but at least I was writing instead of feeling like I do now.

I posted on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday on the leftover steam from it, I think. But the steam ran out, and now-- you have the wanting/needing-to-be-silent person we were dealing with in February. It could have something to do with the school workload that I can hardly bear, yet it probably has most to do with my emotional and mental state. Let's face it. If I were doing better, I would be able to handle my stupid homework and not feel as if I were going to have an anxiety attack over doing the stuff. No one ever died just from doing their homework. 

I keep having these feelings like I am being lazy; I need to get over things and move on; Stop making excuses; You are a better student than this; Maybe you won't ever graduate; Maybe you shouldn't because you won't learn enough in this state to do a good job anyway; If I don't become a teacher, what will I do to take care of myself?; He is such a jerk for stopping wanting to taking care of me; I can't stand my life. 

And yes, I totally shared what goes through my mind at some point almost daily.

Not wanting to be completely negative, although I have no vision for how to spin this into a positive life lesson learned thing, I must share with you how blessed I have been amidst all this garbahge.

There have been a few family members who have gone out of their way to be present in my life with understanding and kindness. I have an aunt and two sisters-in-law who seem to have time when I need it and just the right words that I need to hear when I am struggling. The hand of friendship has been a major blessing to me in these difficult days lately. My BFF is amazing (and her husband) for being a listening ear, a support, and strength for me. I try hard not to turn her into a crutch, or more like my wheelchair, but some days I think I could really lose it if I didn't have her to talk to. Also, I have a neighbor who has become a very dear friend. She and I do so much together. She helps me with my children so I can attend school and go to appointments. We do fun things with the children and exercise together. She doesn't look at me like I'm nuts when I deserve a look or two.

Then, I have so many friends of the moment I can hardly count them all. It amazes me how much love I actually have received during this romantic love famine. Random acts of pure love and charity keep raining down on me, washing away the hurt and sadness for a little while, showing me people care whether or not I am happy and have all that I really need.

I think my big problem (and possibly everyone's problem when having bad days) is I keep getting on a kick where I don't remember the good things. I only look at the deluge of stupid stuff and turn a blind eye to the healing love that is shown me almost daily as well.  One of my friends said to make a list of all the tender mercies God grants me and put it somewhere I can see it every day. I have yet to do that. I am going to start working on it today and share it with all of you.

For accountability purposes--if you don't see a list soon, leave random reminder comments on random posts until I do. Maybe I will get it together knowing it is expected soon.

Every Parking Lot Should Have One

I pulled into the parking lot of my attorney's office. None of the close Visitor spots were open, so I had to drive around to the other side of the lot to see if there were some other close ones available for my use. This could be anyone's story on any given day in any parking lot anywhere, right? What I saw next is NOT so very typical. As I slowly drove past the handicapped parking spots (all in blue, of course), I saw an empty spot at the end of that row. The only problem is it had a sign on a pole in front of it as well. But then, my brain did a double take and realized the sign was not blue but PINK! What the heck is a handicapped parking sign doing being PINK??, I thought to myself. My next instant thought told me someone must have had some fun spray painting; next instant thought was it could be expectant mother parking (I have seen that before, but only in Babies R Us parking lots from time to time); and my next thought was to just read the sign, woman! So I did. Immediately, I got out of my car and took a snapshot with my junky phone camera because for some stupid reason I had forgotten to put my camera back in my purse (yes, I have started carrying my camera with me everywhere. and yes, I am a geek.).

The only thing I would wish to change on this lovely signage is, obviously, to have it in purple and  encrusted in glitter and/or bead work of the fabulous variety. and hung prominently in my garage.

So back to my story--I totally parked in that spot. Out of anyone in the world who needed to get a boost, I was definitely the person right then. It was kind of silly to feel special about getting to park in a spot just because it had a pink sign in front of it, but it worked.

my heart exposed

Waiting in a room with chairs around a table doesn't sound so terrible,

Yet the trepidation in my mind surpassed incredible.

It is now beyond my wildest dream of sadness

The forces of two sides pitted against one another.

I am not property.

If ever a soul was grieved, it is mine.

If ever a heart crumbled, mine has done so.

If ever there was need of healing, it is in this very moment.

I am not loved.

Now I must go out into the world each day

Pretending I somehow fit in,

Somehow I believe this will all get better,

Somehow I don't have fear for the future—

for me, my disabled daughter, my sons, and my angry, heartbroken, little girl.

I am not present.

The tears just keep falling

and falling,

falling down my face

and onto my shirt;

I'm a slobbery mess inside and out.

I am not at peace.

I wake from dreams where I am weeping

only to realize it is only my heart grieving

Overwhelming grief for the loss of a dream gnaws

at every shard of gladness that dares cut through the pain.

I am not happy.

This mother's heart laments the freedom lost

to choose how long to always be there for her children

without her time divided by a separate employment.

They all seem too young to have to leave them,

to spend time with other people's children instead of my own.

I am not ready.

I struggle with speaking about this tragedy.

Even writing it feels labored and strained.

My heart is afraid to open up.

Even just enough to seek solace from friends

causes more suffering than it is worth.  

This crippling silence might be hurting me more

but I don't have the strength to move out of this place.

I am not comforted. 

The tears, they well up so quickly

into a flood that washes over me

Hurting at the beginning

yet somehow healing in between.

I am not sure. 

Numbness, quietness, dullness;

all eat away at the woman I want to be.

I'm a moth-eaten coat with no claim check.

I am not wanted.

My physical heart continues to race

I cannot get it to stop thinking;

it is a race horse pushing to the finish

it cannot stop, even for sleep,

or it might not make it to the last

most important part,

or has that part already passed

and it just doesn't know it?

I am not able to rest.

I stare off into the distance,

not knowing how to feel,

trying to silence feelings run wild,

running toward nothing,

hoping for something,

wanting peace and love and care,

wishing so hard that I ache.

I am not seen.

Breathing is what I do best now.

Usually, it is taken for granted.

Usually, it just happens.

Now, breathing almost hurts.

Now, remembering to breathe takes conscious effort.

I am not living.

When I stop to catch my breath, I ponder on how life has changed.

Where is everyone who began this nightmare with me?

A few have stayed loyally at my side

even when my rawness made them uncomfortable

and sometimes speechless.

More than a few have left me by the wayside

to fend for myself, exposed and alone

Realizing how solitary every soul can be.

I treasure up my faith like a priceless gift.

I treasure up any flicker of friendship I receive.

I am valuable.

When will the tears dry up?

The possibility of having an unending well

of salted tears makes my head hurt

in advance and makes me want to cry more

for all the love there is in the world,

When will the tears quit falling down?

I am courageous.

Questions rush

like a river down a rocky ravine

like wind through cottonwood trees on a warm summer day

like words from the mouth of a confused eight-year-old girl

like traffic on the freeway

like students in the hall right before class starts

like tears that come from a broken heart

like wishes blown into the breeze from a dandelion tuft

like are you getting divorced? from the mouth of my boy

like a wildfire down a brush-covered hillside.

But, time is holding its breath, nearly standing still

while I find the words

as if everything rushed so I could stop to savor the pain

of this poignant crossroads in my journey on earth.

I am free to choose.

This journey has opened my heart

—cracked it wide open—

exposing raw realizations

of sadness, regret, knowing, and hope.

I am able to learn.

Oh, this heart of mine will not be comforted!

It refuses no matter what solace there is to be found

I have faith enough to be healed

(or so I thought)

Or maybe this wound will become part of my faith.

It might teach me to take better care,

Better care of this heart.

I am loved.

If no one ever loves me again,

I want to love myself enough to keep expecting the best.

The best of everything is what everyone wants.

How will I obtain it?

I am capable. 

Sometimes, I believe I might be

searching for an non-findable abstraction.

Oftentimes, I think I could be

offering too much and too little of myself

at the same time.

All the time, I know I want to be

loving someone
who loves me

deeply
eternally
 gratefully
faithfully 
undeniably

passionately

romantically
wholeheartedly

and all the while

in reality

knowing

I am worth it.

a compilation of writings
from February 9, 2012 through April 2, 2012

related links:

I Will Survive

Broken Hearts Heal

Word of the Year: Broken

Lighting It Up Blue

the sky is blue today ~ all around the world ~ for you

April 2nd is World Autism Awareness Day and I celebrate it in honor of my sweet daughter. She has rocked my world for over fifteen challenging and lovely years. I have learned many lessons from my non-verbal, overgrown toddler. I have learned how to love the kind of love that is forgiving at all costs--even true lovingkindness. She knows no guile. She does not hold a grudge. Whenever a sibling or friend gets in trouble (especially when in trouble for being mean to her), she gets back-talking in her 18-24 month old way about how mean and rude I am for disciplining the guilty party. She will grumble or even yell out No, mom, no! Mean, rude, mom. [Child's name] no mean, mom mean. etc. It causes me to laugh a little because she is so loyal to everyone, even if she was the one who tattled to me in the first place.

You know this girl is your friend by her desire to talk to you, even if she can't do it very well at all. She tells people she passes by Your shirt's pretty--boys too. men and babies too. I have had to teach her to say Your shirt's cool for males in order to keep teenage boys from looking at her like she is insane. One thing I have to say about the people who do know her, they know she loves them and they are all so kind and sweet to her. It brings peace to my heart seeing teenagers come running over to her just to say hi or give her knuckles (another one of her specialties).

I have been blessed immeasurably by being part of the Autism adventure and I hope you might want to learn more about it if you aren't already along for the ride yourself.

Related Links:

The Brighter Side of Things

My Journey With Autism

WANTED: Awareness, Respect, Acceptance

Why I *DETEST* April Fools' Day

When I was a young girl, too young to know I should fear April 1st, I had a traumatic experience and it went something like this:

It was an ordinary morning, just like any other ordinary before school morning. Sleepy-eyed children sat around the breakfast table. Sunshine was beaming in through the windows onto them, warming their bodies and hearts. The little girl sat with her little brothers peacefully (they hadn't quite woke up just yet). She knew today was going to be a good day. Anticipation was rising for getting ready for school. Happy thoughts about playing with friends on the playground spun round and round. (She got to play with girls at school and this was a novelty to her still.) The whole eating food thing was not happening fast enough! Wiggling and ready to eat, the children poured bowls of cereal. Then, in turn, each heaped several scoops of sugar from the sugar bowl located in the center of the sunlit breakfast table. This sugar bowl was lovely. It made everything sweeter. It could even make Raisin Bran taste like something of a delight. The special sugar bowl spoon was beloved as well. It was different than the regular spoons and getting to use it meant life would be sweeter. Then, the peacefully warm, anticipating and wiggly children started to eat—each taking the biggest first bite with the most sugar on top to get that sweet loveliness onto their tongues as quickly as possible.

Then—shrieks of disbelief and spitting out of cereal anywhere and everywhere just to get that rotten, disgusting supposedly-sugar encrusted food out of their mouths filled the entire house. Crying and yelling and dastardly laughing mingled into one loud mess of a din. Mother tasted the girl's food and discovered the sugar to be salt, then tasted the sugar in the sugar bowl only to discover a prank had been pulled.

What is April Fools' Day anyway? The girl knew. She figured it out quick. It is the day when fools come out to make happy children cry and not trust that the lovely sugar bowl brings sweetness to life, proving to her and the world why they only get one day to bask in the light of their ignorance.

related links:

The Santa Conspiracy