Mid-CenturyModernMoms

Holidays, Aspergers Style

Amigo, age 17 going on 18, loves Christmas. He, like his mother, could listen to Christmas music year round. He enjoys decorating the tree, decorating the house, and insisting that we're slackin' if we don't get the outside lights up.

But excitement breeds stress, and stress breeds anxiety, and teens with Asperger's have enough trouble dealing with complex emotions without adding a holiday into the mix.

La Petite was in Virginia covering her college football team's championship game. Yes, you read that right; my Wisconsin girl was stuck in the East Coast blizzard, snowbound in the South. As she put it, "Mom, it looks like Wisconsin; people here are just not used to it." The game was postponed several hours to allow for plowing, three coach buses full of fans and cheerleaders and players' families were turned back because the interstate was closed. Luckily, La Petite had high enough status with the athletic department to fly out with the team and coaches. She arrived in Roanoke before the storm hit, and joined the coaches' wives and kids in shopping for extra warm socks.

Amigo, on the other hand, didn't cope so well. The list went on and on in his orderly mind: game postponed, channel coverage changed from ESPN2 to ESPN Classic, big sister stranded, holiday coming, Add the stress of a long and busy school week with three days of Choir Concert changes, stir in the resulting exhaustion, and he was a mess. He started to escalate with backtalk, swearing, and body tension. Eventually, I talked him down, helping him identify what bothered him the most, trying to get him to address the underlying tension so he could calm himself.

His biggest worry: his sister. He adores her. He was worried she wouldn't get home for Christmas.

When I reassured him that we had a plan and several backup plans, his shoulders drooped, his breathing slowed, and he actually cried a little. Don't tell him I noticed. After releasing his tension, he could focus and deal with everyday life again.

I promised to make Christmas cookies with him later in the weekend; bonding in the kitchen helps calm both of us. After all, family is what the holiday is all about.

From the MCMM team, stay close, and enjoy your family this holiday season.

You can take the kitchen out of the boy...

...but you can't take this boy out of the kitchen. Since he's been taking Foods class in school, he's brought home recipes and talked cooking with mom and dad. He told us he was able and willing to help out with Thanksgiving preparations, and he was as good as his word. Here he is mixing up a batch of 1-2-3 Cranberry Sauce.

To my USA friends, Happy Thanksgiving from our house to yours.

1-2-3 Cranberry Sauce

1 cup water, 2 cups sugar, 3 cups fresh cranberries. Cinnamon to taste. Bring to a boil, then simmer for at least 15 minutes or until thickened.

Mom's back!

  
Ora is back from her wonderful adventure in Spain!!!  (pictures to follow)

Rosie squeezed her mom soooooo hard when they got together.  Rosie had an emotional rough week staying with her cousins.  She adores little Tree, but the parents, especially the mother N, produce a lot of stress.

These cousins are in the final stages of building a house- and of course, every detail must be perfect.  Well, the contractor finally had enough and quit.  Rosie and Tree were out apple picking and had to come home all in a rush.  That's all that I really know, but Rosie was very happy to be home into her own world.

Our cousins loved having Rosie stay with them.  But Rosie doesn't want this sort of thing to happen too often (once a year is okay).

Now for the pictures:

travelling business class to the way to go

Barcelona is lovely, but has some totally crazy buldings from its signature architech, Antonini Gaudi

La Pedera.  I think this looks like a droopy mushroom, but the curves are supposed to be able the sea.

 Gaudi's great cathedral, Sangra Famalia- still a work in progress after 80 years.  It will need at least 40 more to complete.

 The Barcelona signature frog/dragon at the entrance to Park Guell.

 

The chimneys of the Casa Batlio.  Gaudi almost never used straight lines for anything!!

Roman walls

Flamenco dancing  (but don't eat the supper buffet- I got food poisoning)

and lots of other interesting street sights.

 
 
 With friends on the southwest coast of Spain

Guadelest- a fortress

And then back to reality.
 

Leaving Them Behind

Right now, Ora is off on a grand adventure.  Okay, it's with her father, but it's still a big adventure.  And Abe and Rosie are not along for the ride!!

Ora is in Spain, specifically Barcelona and Alicante (the beach). 

 Zeyde asked if I wanted to accompany him to Spain several months ago and I first said no, how could I leave Rosie for so long during a school week?  But Rosie said- hey mom, you should go.  I'll stay with this friend and then that friend....

So I agreed to go (twist my arm really hard).  Rosie is off on a mini-adventure because she gets to stay with our cousins and their little boy, Tree.  Tree is 3 years old and loves Rosie.  And Rosie is one of the few people that Tree's mom lets to help take care of him!

Abe is going to stay at his school.  This means that he won't come home for about a month, since he was just home so much for the jewish holidays.  He's a little upset about that, but he's all for mom's grand adventure too!

But right before I left, Rosie said to me.  Mom, don't go on too many of these long trips while I'm in school anymore. (Read that, don't leave me home/at friends/releatives while you are off having fun; but also it's a pain to pack up and move and take all of my school books with me).  But she agreed that I could go away for a week (without her) once a year.

But I certainly need to leave Rosie with lots of hugs- and I look forward to getting them when I get home!
 

We like our slow time - we're odd like that

This is Davey's distorted shadow as he unzips the entrance to the tent.

We're just back from a few days camping.

Camping for us usually means driving to one of the many National Parks in NSW and enjoy a few days of very basic living. Often the campsites we choose to go to have only very basic facilities. The site we camped at last week, in Yuraygir National Park, was no exception. Chopped wood was provided and pit toilets. And, ah, that was about it. Taking water no longer phases me though, as I've been able to work out how much we require and that's about 10 litres a day for the 3 of us.Way down this walking track in the heathland, you can just see Em.

I call myself a 2 night camping specialist. 2 nights is worth the effort of pitching the tent and setting up, and I can keep food cold right up until the end of the 3rd day. We aim to be set up before lunch on the first day and pack down after lunch on the 3rd day, and it always feels as though we've had much longer than 3 days away. Perhaps it's the total lack of technology that slows time down, perhaps it's paying attention to really simple tasks like boiling the billy for a cup of tea. Whatever it is, 3 days of camping refreshes us like nothing else.

It was just warm enough for us to enjoy the waves on our body boards, though Davey was pretty keen on sitting around the campfire to warm up afterwards. There's not much insulation on his streamlined body!
We sat around the campfire at night and marvelled at the incredible night sky that isn't visible in urban areas, and listened to the creatures of the night rustling in the inky black shadows that surrounded us.

Em had told me she hadn't learned much in Biology this year, however when we walked around a rocky headland, we found a totally different shoreline to the one we camped next to. This bay was just a big rock platform, filled with rockpools and marine creatures. Em sprouted all sorts of information and showed us how to find creatures I'd never noticed before. Even she chuckled when I commented that Biology hadn't been a total waste of time.


Oh, and just because we're 'roughing it' doesn't mean that Em's quirky fashion sense is left at home.  This was her nail treatment during camping.  The middle nail is painted entirely, while the other nails are french tipped in red.  Yup.  She's special!
On the drive home, Em commented that these signs are put in place to taunt Learner Drivers.  "They're telling me to go 85 when they know I'll lose my licence if I go over 80!"

Reflections on the Holy Days

As I was sitting in shule (synagogue) over the past several weeks, sometimes even with my kids sitting next to me, I grew pensive.

Some of the time, Abe was sitting with me.  At least physically.  He had his science fiction book(s) and was steadily reading (as he does almost all of the time).  At least now he wasn't so hyper-focused that he remained seated when the rest of the congregation was standing. 

So I stand there, hoping that the osmosis view of religion really works.  You know the one, it's especially applied on Long Island, and in Israel, too.  It's the one that says, "I don't have to work at being jewish because everyone around me is".

There are a few prayers during the services which everyone knows and sings together.  Generally, these are transliterated from the Hebrew in the prayer book.  I made sure that Abe was saying them along with everyone else.

I really wish that he would have read from the prayer book.  I often sit and look at the readings that we aren't reading during the service, the translations and some of the other commentary.

But I did get him (no problems there) to come to services and sit inside for much of it.  Or to attend the teen service and take part in the discussion (much to Rosie's amazement).  So I have to feel grateful that religion means something to him, even if his observance of it is different than the standard.

Now Rosie is a different kids altogether.  She spent her time in the teen services- and then hanging out with those teens.  But during the final services of the Holy Days, there aren't any teen services, and she dutifully sat with me.

I don't like sitting alone.  It feels like I've been abandoned.  I've already spent too many years sitting alone.  Rosie sat with me at many times, sometimes with her friends and sometimes by herself.  Religion for her means much the same (I believe) as it does to me.

And of course, it warms a mother's heart to hear so many people saying how grown-up and handsome/pretty the kids look!

Other people's mess

Earlier in the year Em had a job as a pool attendant. By pool attendant the job description meant life saver. Em worked 9 hour shifts on weekends at an indoor pool ALONE. Yes, she holds the appropriate life saving certificates, but somehow I didn't feel right about a 16 year old being the sole staff member at the pool where lots of children are dropped off by their parents and left at the pool for hours at a time. It's tricky to be at the front counter taking money, selling sweets, swimming goggles and other miscellaneous items AND watching the children in the pool at the same time.

Anyhoo, after her boss yelled at her because a friend dropped in to see her the day after her friend Niel ended his life, I decided Em's career as a pool attendant should end.

As Em has become serious about her school work I've wondered how she'd fit another job in with study and her other commitments, which I think are more important than money she'll just fritter away anyway. (These commitments include her involvement in the Young Achievers Program, singing in an Accapella group, taking a leadership role in her church youth group, helping out with our church childrens' program and making incredible cup cakes for any occasion that comes along - weddings, birthdays, church social nights, teacher's requests for school events. Then there's being on the student council at school, promoting the Red Cross Blood Bank donation program........I'm sure your'e getting the picture.)

Until recently Em's had to walk across her piles of stuff on her bedroom floor to reach her bed; she's also a very messy cook - though she usually does an ok job of cleaning up after herself in the kitchen. I guess that's why she's found herself a new job she thinks is a perfect fit. Cleaning luxury holiday units!!!

Having spent a day in training, Em begins her new job on Friday - though she has told me she'd like a few more pointers on making beds with 'hospital corners', otherwise she's good to go.

I think this is a great job for Em, as it will only be holiday work and pays reasonably well for a teenager, but being a realist I'm not holding my breath for any changes on the home front!

And a good time was had by all (amazingly)

Imagine there's no heaven 

It's easy if you try 

No hell below us 

Above us only sky 

Imagine all the people Living for today 

Imagine there's no countries, 

It isn't hard to do 

Nothing to kill or die for 

And no religion too 

Imagine all the people Living life in peace 

You may say I'm a dreamer 

But I'm not the only one I hope some day you'll join us 

And the world will be as one I

magine no possessions I wonder if you can 

No need for greed or hunger 

A brotherhood of man 

Imagine all the people Sharing all the world 

You may say I'm a dreamer But I'm not the only one 

I hope some day you'll join us 

And the world will live as one

John Lennon IMAGINE

 

Now imagine, 23 people spread out over 3 rooms eating, talking and playing games with each other.  16 of these people are all related to each other (and the other 7 are all related to each other, but the two groups aren't related to each other!)

So you have many adults, some teenagers (young to older) and a bunch of kids.  Now imagine (because it was real), that NO ONE was fighting with each other.  The kids and the younger teens were all playing nicely together and the adults were talking in different combinations.

I do have to admit that the barely controlled chaos of this dinner on the second night of Rosh Hashana caused Abe to run away and hide out playing computer games.  But, when I think back over the years where he would've had some sort of outburst, verbal or physical, which would destroy the mood for everyone, the fact that he knows his limits and pulled back was just fine in my book.

But the kids and young teens were all playing together nicely.  And this group included more than one special needs kid!!  There was a mankala game sitting out on the side of the fireplace- simply because the place where it normally was kept had been moved. 

It was so sweet that my little niece came up to me saying, "Auntie Ora, can you teach me how to play this?" (She normally decides that she wants little interaction with me.)  So we played and then more of the kids wanted to learn how to play, and then some of the boys asked about another game and someone went downstairs and brought up Battleship.  But the kids were all behaving so nicely in the midst of lots of commotion.

Just imagine.  It was a holiday dinner in the truest sense of the words.  I'm glad that I slaved to put it on. (but it won't happen again for a loonnng time!)

And who does Mama teach to mend and tend and fix ...

I believe in God.

I keep a kosher home.

When my children turned 13, each of them in turn became a bar or bat mitzvah -- literally, a son or daughter of the commandment -- and took their places as an "adult" in the Jewish community.

As an adult, I have always belonged to a synagogue and gone to services on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

Until now.

This year, I let my temple membership lapse and didn't purchase tickets (yes, you need tickets) to the holiday services. I continually walked past the envelope of membership information without taking action.

As early as Friday morning (before Rosh Hashanah began at sundown), I still had no plan. Fortunately, my BFF rescued me from my malaise and offered my family a place at her synagogue with her family.

But as I sat in services on Saturday morning, flanked by the Roo-girl and Z-man, I realized one of the sources of my problem.

Tradition -- or, rather, the lack of.

For years, my parents hosted a night-before dinner on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. When that stopped, they hosted post-services lunch on Rosh and a break-the-fast on Yom.

This year, there was none. Some of that was due to my mother's breast cancer diagnosis not being as clean and pretty as we had hoped. She was clearly not up to hosting anything.

But even so, I realized I have nothing in its place. The torch has not passed to another family member, nor have I taken up the challenge myself.

So there was nothing. No dinner. No lunch. No family gathering. And I barely managed to find a place to worship with the two children of mine who still live under my roof.

My childhood and, frankly, adulthood are filled with memories of holiday dinners at first my grandparents and then my parents.

Right now, I despair at the memories -- or lack thereof -- I am making for my children ...

Crossposted at From the Planet of Janet

Of carrots and sticks

Rebekah has had friends visiting this week, sisters from out of town. A week-long sleepover party!!!

I am very, very, very tired.

It's not so much that they want drives when I would normally be in bed. (Drives which I can give because we are renting a car this week. Dammit.) Not that.

It's not even that, when you show up in said rental car, only one of them is there, the other two having had some inexplicable but entirely irressistable brain fart and are now IN ANOTHER PROVINCE.

(Okay, so the "other province" is Quebec, a mere two km away, easily accessible by city busses. Point is, they were supposed to be HERE, at this time, and now they're THERE, and won't end up at the house for another hour and a half. And I, because of that damnable Momma Clock, will be awake until that happens.)

I will hereby note for the record that the teen who was WHERE she said she'd be WHEN she said she'd be there was MINE. Yes, this makes me feel a little smug. You would, too, I'm betting.

No, it's not that stuff... though none of it was especially helpful in my quest for a Full Night's Sleep.

No, it's the activity. Even when they're quiet -- and to their credit, they are -- they move around, doors open and close, water runs, toilets flush, there are footsteps in the hall, odors from the kitchen (at 2 am), muted giggles (all night long). Strangely, I just don't sleep as well when all that's going on.

And then when I come downstairs and discover (for the second morning in a row) the detritus from their midnight snacking all over the counters? I'm tired all over again. Popcorn bags, pots, bowls, spoons, cups litter the stovetop, sink and counters. Pasta sauce is smeared here, parmesan cheese is scattered there.

The first morning, I cleaned all that up. Stupid, I know. I was tired. Of course, I paid the price for my laziness. You all knew I would, didn't you? I mean, it's so predictable. Kind of dopey the way I can do this to myself. I know -- we all know, through bitter experience repeated endlessly down through the years -- that if I let something slide once, it'll only happen again. If it bothered me once, it's only going to bug me more when it happens again. And it WILL happen again, because I didn't stop it the first time!

I know this. Yet still I cleaned it up that first morning.

So of course, the kitchen was a mess again this morning. Duh. And of course, I was tired all over again... but this time, I was also Fed Up. The selfishness of teens is really quite astounding. Could you imagine yourself as a houseguest and trashing someone's kitchen overnight? I can't. Can't IMAGINE doing it. Never, ever, not once in a million years. Never mind nightly for a week.

(And no, they didn't get away with it nightly for a week. But we all know they WOULD have, if I hadn't gone all mom on their oblivious asses.)

Five minutes later, they're downstairs cleaning up. Without complaint because really, they are good kids. Ten minutes after that, they're on their way back to bed. (Good kids, and efficient.) Bed, where they will stay until, oh, two in the afternoon. Sleep and sleep and sleep. All day long. (How can they DO that? Don't they MISS sunlight?? If it didn't give me hours and hours of lovely peace and quiet, I'd wake them up and MAKE them be diurnal. But why would I do that to myself?)

So, now that I'm done telling you all about this, I think I'll just go sit on the porch in the early morning sunlight, and enjoy my quiet, grown-up cup of tea... and dream of Sunday, when they all go home, when I, too, shall sleep and sleep and sleep.

Aaaaahhh...