The Weight of Love

I'm in Colorado Springs today, had to make a quick trip up for a meeting with people in the office and to sort out some administrative details.  I think it's mostly sorted. 

Everyone today has been hugging me and telling me how much I'm missed.  And yes, it is nice to know that they think fondly of me and that they enjoy my presence.  I'm also conscious of a certain weight that goes with carrying other people's love.  None of us mean to do it to each other, but when we love someone, we do press them.  Sometimes it's a lovely warm welcome blanket of happy loving pinkness.  Sometimes it's a bit smothering. 

I hadn't thought of how my children feel the weight of love before a serious conversation with Tucker yesterday afternoon.  We attended church before we left to drive up to the Springs.  And one of the comments that sank in to him was, "God must be our first priority.  In order for God to be first, we can't let anything in this world or this life be more important than God."

SO Tucker came out with a solemn expression and asked, "Mom, if you love something more than God, will God be mad at you?"

"I'm not sure it's right to say that God would be angry about that.  But I think that your life goes better if you try to keep your priorities in order.  Love God and trust Him to handle the things you care about."  See I was assuming that he was leading up to confessing that he loves his Game Boy more than God, or more probably his cat, Joe.

"Mom, Do you think that God is mad at you because you love me more than Him?"

Not what I expected.  So I was quiet - kind of stunned actually.

"I know that you would do anything in the world for me.  If someone was gonna hurt me, you would get between me and them.  If I was sick and needed a heart, you'd give me yours.  But I don't think you'd do that for God.  So do you think God is mad at you?  Is your life not the best because you love me more?"

Well, I did come up with an answer.  I don't know that it was a good answer.  I gave his concern the serious attention that it deserved and I think he's satisfied with that.  But all I could think was how wonderful it must be to know to the depths of your soul that you are loved.  It takes a certain weight to press love that deep. 

I pray that the weight of his mother's love is never a burden and always a solid foundation.

Saturday Schtuff

Got two new tires on the front of my car ... Yay!

Three hour wait to get an oil change ... I'll go back later.

Laundry is spinning ... feels all domestic around here.

Tucker has been working puzzles.

The cat has discovered the joy of rubber bands...

            I'm in a mood to put some tape on his paws and see if he does a backflip.

Or at least get him out of my purse.

Coming to Terms

I miss my condo in Colorado Springs.  I do.  It was a really nice place.  3 br.  2 1/2 bth  My Master closet was 8'x12'.  I had a walk-in double shower in addition to my bathtub.  The deck probably had no more square feet than my patio here - total, but here the back side of the fireplace creates this odd L shape that keeps the patio from being really useful as a lounging area. 

Here, I don't have room for a dresser in my room so my underpants are literally in a cardboard box in the corner.  Everytime I have to go and try to dig through to find what I want, I grumble in my heart about it.  My closet is the standard, two folding doors revealing a 5' hanging bar with a shelf above.  My bathroom is a typical 5'x10' bathroom with a tub that fills one side.  I don't know how many square feet smaller this place is, but every single room is smaller than its counterpart from the condo. 

I've avoided admitting how much I miss it.  It felt like I was being disloyal in some way.  Like the mere fact of looking back wistfully put me in the same category as Lot's wife.  But it's not disloyal.  It doesn't mean that I have any regrets about the decision to move or that I wish I were back in Colorado Springs.  It was just a very nice condo. 

With prices in Albuquerque rentals the way they are.  I"m paying more for considerably less in terms of our current living space.  And it chafes me.  Especially on bills writing day.  Which today is not.  I've been kicking this around in my head since last Friday.

And I'll go ahead and admit something else.  I miss having my house.  I loved my house in Indiana.  There may have been some things I'd have changed if I could do it all over.  But I loved my home there.  I hate that now I have to pay rent.  I sat down over the weekend and used my calculator.  At my current salary, and my current rate of savings, it will be six more years before I can build a large enough downpayment to get into a house.  Oh, I could probably qualify for a mortgage before then, but I have to be able to put down enough money that I can afford the payments on the remaining balance. 

Sigh.

I'm going to meet with a mortgage counselor at my bank to see if there might be a first time home-buyer down-payment assistance program that I might qualify for.  Everything I qualified for in Colorado, I don't now because with the raise I got in June, I make too much money to be considered a "low income" buyer.   

Tina is back in town.  So we are having lunch tomorrow.  I'm excited about that.  I missed her.   

Under the Shadow

we walk, we work, we live, we laugh
we've given birth to new lives, married and given in marriage
we remember where we were when we heard
and the first time we were brave enough to step on a plane after
we remember terrible silence that followed deafening noise
we've suffered reports, recriminations, and revelations

we've had time to become accustomed to the world as it has become
we've had enough time that some of us woke this morning
had coffee and were irritable with the person we love most
had breakfast and forgot to kiss our child before he walked out the door
arrived at our desk and began the work of the day
though we swore we'd never speak harshly, never forget to love them,
never start our work day without gratitude and remembrance of all they lost

we've had time for shock, trauma, and horror to give way
before the relentless press of the inevitable
and that's good
that's as it should be
life must grow in the shadow
of remembering

Could I have a Volunteer Please?

My nephew Jared has never been sheepish about volunteering for anything.  When he was six, he attended a rodeo where they asked for volunteers from the audience aged 6 and under.  The next time his parents saw him, he was coming out of the bullchute on a sheep.  The kid didn't win the prize for remaining on his sheep the longest, but he NEVER let go.  When he fell off the sheep, he was still grasping a footlong bit of wool. 

I have been urged by many people, publicly and privately to reconsider my decision to forego a lawsuit against the Colorado Springs School District which refused services to Michael last year.  Their most compelling argument is that even if the suit took several years, it would be worth it to the people who come behind us.  If we could only make a difference in the lives of the next children to encounter this systerm it would all be worth it.

Although I'm not much given to explaining things once I've made a decision, the sheer number of people who have contacted me prompts me to rethink that part at least and give you a little more of the context for my decision.  Essentially, it can be summed up in two words.  Due Process.

In Colorado, as elsewhere, there is an administrative appeals process meant to protect parents from unreasonable local decisions and to protect schools from frivolous lawsuits.  By the time that I was faced with a decision, it was apparent that the school had no intention of reviewing any part of their decision unless forced to do so.  My next step in due process was to take it to an arbitrator for appeal.

I want you to understand what that means.  I had to take it to an arbitrator who would look at my side and look at the school's side, and then make a recommendation.  Historically, this process is not quick, it can take up to two years for any kind of final determination to be reached.  During which time I am supposed to allow the school to show me good faith that they are trying to educate my son. 

An autistic kid doesn't have time to spare.  For every week, month, semester, and year that he isn't getting support, he is not just falling behind his peers, he loses ground that he previously held.  Autistic kids don't just stop growing - they regress.  Quickly.   And it takes just as long for them to regain a skill as it did to gain it in the first place. 

Michael doesn't have time for me to play nice and go through the administrative appeal process.  He needs help right now and he's getting it.  Because I chose not to go through that process, I have been advised that would be a barrier to my hopes of winning any kind of settlement with the District.  I would dearly love to fight with them.  I would even more dearly love to beat them in court and hurt them the way they hurt my son.

But none of us have infinite resources.  And let me be clear, even if I had buckets and buckets of money, I would still have chosen to move rather than fight them because the one resource that is most precious to my son is time.  I wasn't willing to give them one more day with him. 

So although it's nice that the people here have offered me support and a beautiful sense of vindication, their offer to support me if I chose to go the lawsuit route isn't really the key to winning.  In order for me to win, I had to give them a fair shot.  And when it comes to my son, I have no intention of playing fair. 

I do feel badly for those who will come after us and confront the same wall of ignorance and criminal discrimination that we faced.  But those people are not my primary responsibility.  

Now if any of you know of some way that I could sue from here, or if you know a top notch attorney who'd take the case on contingency.  I'm on board.  But now you know more about why I chose to move and why I'm reluctant to throw myself into a legal battle from this distance. 

I'm not the volunteer that this cause needs.  It's time to for me to let go of that sheep.

Scary? 

When is the last time your dinner scared you?

How scary is pasta that only has 130 calories per serving (versus 210 for regular pasta)?

Okay, how scary is it that the pasta on your plate has 18 grams of fiber?  (versus 2)

If that didn't do it for you, what if your pasta were chocolate flavored?

My pasta order has shipped from www.FiberGourmet.com. 

Who needs a Haunted House or a slasher movie?

My dinner scares me.

Weight Loss Anyone?

Many of us have been on a diet for ... pretty much forever.  From my high weight (four years ago) to where I am now, I have apparently lost a newborn calf.  How about you?  Did you make a weight loss commitment back in January?  Where are you on the scale?  I'm shooting for a loss of 60 more pounds - eventually.  That would be a total loss equal to the complete Oxford English Dictionary which apparently I was carrying in my hip pocket!

Your weight loss =

1 pound = a Guinea Pig
1.5 pounds = a dozen Krispy Kreme glazed donuts
2 pounds = a rack of baby back ribs
3 pounds = an average human brain
4 pounds = an ostrich egg
5 pounds = a Chihuahua
6 pounds = a human’s skin
7.5 pounds = an average newborn
8 pounds = a human head
10 pounds= chemical additives an American consumes each year
11 pounds = an average housecat
12 pounds = a Bald Eagle
15 pounds = 10 dozen large eggs
16 pounds = a sperm whale’s brain
20 pounds = an automobile tire
23 pounds = amount of pizza an average American eats in a year
24 pounds = a 3-gallon tub of super premium ice cream
25 pounds = an average 2 year old
30 pounds = amount of cheese an average American eats in a year
33 pounds = a cinder block
36 pounds = a mid-size microwave
40 pounds = a 5-gallon bottle of water or an average human leg
44 pounds = an elephant’s heart
50 pounds = a small bale of hay
55 pounds = a 5000 BTU air conditioner
60 pounds = an elephant’s penis (yep, weighs more than his heart!)
66 pounds = fats and oils an average American eats in a year
70 pounds = an Irish Setter
77 pounds = a gold brick
80 pounds = the World’s Largest Ball of Tape
90 pounds = a newborn calf
100 pounds = a 2 month old horse
111 pounds = red meat an average American eats in a year
117 pounds = an average fashion model (and she’s 5’11”)
118 pounds = the complete Encyclopedia Britannica
120 pounds = amount of trash you throw away in a month
130 pounds = a newborn giraffe
138 pounds = potatoes an average American eats in a year
140 pounds = refined sugar an average American eats in a year
144 pounds = an average adult woman (and she’s 5’4”)
150 pounds = the complete Oxford English Dictionary
187 pounds = an average adult man
200 pounds = 2 Bloodhounds
235 pounds = Arnold Schwarzenegger
300 pounds = an average football lineman
400 pounds = a Welsh pony

Well, that hurt ~

Cats are tuned into an alternate reality.  It's like dogs hearing very high pitched noises, but with cats its a whole space time continuum thing.  All cats have an assigned location in the universe, like a seating chart.  And if one of them is out of place, stars begin to explode, black holes turn pink, life becomes a mess.  It's a serious responsibility to always be right where you're supposed to be all the time.

So a cat will be wandering slowly along, or maybe even in a dead sleep, but all of a sudden the message that they are supposed to be in some other place is beamed directly into their brain.  And they are supposed to be there NOW.  So the cat leaps into the air, does a double half gaynor with a right back paw twist and then "pop" it disappears only to "pop" reappear in a new location some 50 feet away.

Tucker was sitting on the couch with Joe sitting on his lap when one of these reality adjustments occurred. 

Joe is still more kitten than cat, so he hasn't learned about claws and how claws are a bad thing.  When he leaped into the air, he used his claws for traction right on Tucker's skin.  Ouch.

Tucker wasn't just hurt, he was sad, confused, and his feelings were hurt too.  "How could he do that Mom.  Doesn't he know I love him?  Why would he scratch me like that?"

Oh the things we learn from our pets.  In this case, Tucker is learning that sometimes the person who hurt you didn't mean to hurt you.  But the lack of malice doesn't make the hurt any less.  In fact, sometimes it makes it seem worse because isn't hatred and anger easier to understand and take than indifference?  After all if someone is angry they are putting a lot of energy into a reality where you are very very important. 

But when someone just doesn't notice, or seems not to care that it was your skin being shredded by their claws, that's just bad. 

As I explained to Tucker, you have to make a choice when that happens.  Hopefully, you can tell the person who hurt you and once you've called their attention to the problem they won't do it again.  Or if you think that it truly was a matter of indifference, that the person doesn't care that you were hurt, you have to decide to limit your exposure to that person.  Yes, I'm counselling my son on how to protect himself even though it's taken me a long long time to learn to be vulnerable.  I can recognize that sometimes we need protection.

The last two options that some people pick rarely work out well.  If somone hurts you, you may try to change yourself into a different kind of person to motivate that other person to care a little more.  But that's not only convoluted and hard, but you're worthy of care right now.  If you have to contort yourself into some emotional pretzel to avoid injury, well, that's an injury in itself and you're contributing to your own pain.

Or you may try to change the other person in to someone kinder, gentler, more prudent ... That doesn't work either because then they are on the emotional twister board. 

I think he got it.  Mostly. 

"Well, can we just have the vet take Joe's claws off?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tucker has made several cat observations over the past three days.

"Joe is smart."  (Noting that instead of running to his food bowl, he was eating Gladys food first and then going to his bowl for seconds.)

"Joe purrs really really loud when you scratch his belly.  I taught him that."

and my personal favorite:

"Mom, your cat looks at me like she thinks she's more important than I am."

Gettin a Deal

I'm a sucker for a deal.  I don't think I'm so bad that I would spend $40 to save $1 - I've known some people who would do that.  But I am generally susceptible to a "2 for 1" when I know that it truly is a "2 for 1" deal.  (It irritates me to no end when I see "Buy one get one free" advertised at double the ordinary price.  I know that's illegal, but it happens all the time anyway.)

I got hooked at the Animal Shelter.  I kid you not, they were having an end of month clearance sale on cats.  The regular cost of adoption is $85 which includes the cost of neutering and microchipping and I thought that was a good deal.  When we arrived at the shelter, I was prepared to spend $85.  Only ... they had dropped the price to $39 per cat.  Neutering and microchipping and everything.  Through the end of the month.  Oh my.

Tucker found Joe pretty quickly.  Or Joe found Tucker.  I'm not sure exactly how that happened.  Tucker had said going in that he wanted a little girl kitty.  He thought a girl would be "more adorable."

Then that unusual sort of marmalade, sort of white coat caught his eye.  When he held that little purr machine, it was all over but the check writing.  Gladys was in the cage just below Joe.  (And I have to tell you that these were not their shelter names, we renamed them.)  All the time that Tucker was playing with Joe and deciding that this was the one... 

("I was expecting to hear angels singing to let me know it was the one, it didn't happen like that but I knew anyway."  o_0)    

... Gladys was watching.  Quietly.  A little sadly.  She watched and didn't seem to have any hope that anyone was going to ask to have her come out of her cage.  She's a medium to long-haired cat, so she looks bigger than she is.  She's (5 1/2 mos) almost twice as old as Joe (3 mos), but he easily outweighs her.  And when I picked her up, she snuggled into my shoulder and purred like a finely crafted sportscar. 

It was all over but the check-writing.