Mouse-O , The new Drain-0..

So, I go down in the cellar the other night because I hear the wash sink overflowing. The wash sink is where I do my laundry and it is hooked to the washer. When the washer drains into the sink sometimes the lint gets clogged and the water overflows the sink. So I cheerfully stuck my hand down in the water to free up the drain and stop the overflow. I instantly realized that what I had pulled out of the drain was not lint but rather a field mouse. ( I must have some nuerologic malfunction) my mind knew what it had touched but it did not tell my arm to stop pulling it up and out. I saw it, a black field mouse with the longest tail. I dropped it back in the sink and started off running faster than I do when I set the treadmill to 10. I was all grossed out and being a germfobe I ran and hosed my arm and hand down with anti bacterial agents. The nonrational part of me insisted that it had bit my finger, the only lingering rational part of me told me that he had drowned(duh) and was already dead. Then of course everything I stepped on that night or touched felt like the rubbery, lifeless rodent who I actually felt sorry for. I mean really why am I or any other woman afraid or grossed out by these things. The above picture does not look so very threatening. After I got over the initial shock and disgust- I felt horribly guilty that this creature had died in such a horrible way, that I was afraid of it, that I threw it and discarded it so quickly and without respect. I ultimately by doing my laundry was the one that killed it. Come on all you cops and lawyers...Isn't this mouseslaughter or negligence. Well I was just about to turn myself into the superintendent of mouse's when my friend Jason called. I shivered as I told him my ordeal and he said, "so this rodent comes into your house looking for a handout, slips into a tub full of water and you are responsible?" unfortunately...I did...feel that way...:-(

Anyhow, my wandering mind took me further with this whole mouse thing one more time. I was waiting for Brian to come home that night and I began thinking to myself. What if the fear that I felt (which was intense I almost peed my pants) is what autistics feel everytime they are forced to look, do something new or off schedule, or hear a sound that hurts them. Do they feel that intense internal fight or flight? Because you know the one that I am talking about, we all feel it when we see an accident, or something gross like a mouse or whatever does it for you (snakes also kill me)..It is not a comfortable feeling at all. But we know our response and fear is often warranted or motivated by something. What if we had autism, and every peice of ordinary life was like that...Every sound, sight , action, person we meet...God what it must be like. I have started incorperative this idea in my head when I approach Sam (not that I never knew it , I am just doing it more so). I try to help him through what ever it is by reassuring him, breaking down the scenario with a picture, story or analogy...I think many children need this nuerotypical or not..Hell I apparently need it cause I still wont go in my cellar.....I was thinking, I should have went with Brian when he later discarded the remains- so that I could see (while someone I felt safe wwith was there) that is was nothing to fear. Hoping that there is never a next time but knowing that if there is I should be different about it. Time after time of seeing that there is no ill effect of seeing, touching or holding a mouse should desensitize me- Hence why emplosional ABA works- not just on autistics, but on mousekillers too!

And there is a heaven!

I saw this on a few other blogs I check out and I thought it was cool, so I did it.....
The Bernard Pivot questionnaire that James Lipton gives his celebrity guests during their appearances on Inside the Actor's Studio.

1. What is your favorite word?

F*ck

2. What is your least favorite word?

Fat

3. What turns you on? (creatively, spiritually, or emotionally? i.e. not sexually).

A good long fast run, a slow dance with Brian, People taking care of other people.

4. What turns you off? (also creatively, spiritually, or emotionally, i.e., not sexually)

IGNORANCE

5. What is your favorite curse word?

F*ck

6. What sound or noise do you love?

My Sammy talking, My Morgan attempting to talk

7. What sound or noise do you hate?

Silence

8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?

Coroner

9. What profession would you not like to do?

Politician

10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?

You have earned your stay here, take your place next to those that have waited to see you again....And tell your damn brother in law to put out that cigarette it is giving me a headache..This is not a smoking lounge you know!

Autism Awareness day, The battle from room to room

It is very hard to come home after working all day only to walk in the house and encounter Sam Screaming, Crying, making inappropriate vocals , throwing, arching and just plan out bucking like a horse every time I get within a couple feet of him. I know in the back of his mind he loves me (I guess), and I know that he has a tough time because Brian and I hold him accountable for every little thing. It is hard to come home after a day of people dying at 30 years of age, spouses saying goodbye to their friend and lover after 60 years of marriage and smokers who wonder why they are where they are...To a little boy who I want to hold and love and have him love me back....Only to have him hit or bite or bang. Things have picked up quite a bit in the old behavior department. I try and hang on knowing that a huge spike in behaviors means a new skill- but I am shocked and caught off guard at the regression of his now minimal eye contact, his inability to listen- putting him in grave danger and despite all Nazi like efforts his need to slip deeper into the world that he enjoys more than this. He cannot answer question and I have been working on this with him seperately. He has got to a point where it takes almost 5-10 minutes to seal a diaper on him cause he is arching and fighting with me. He is throwing things and clearing off tables when someone new enters the room. Temporarily gone are the days of going out again because he cannot handle all that is around him. If we go to a restaurant he will not eat because he is trying to maintain himself and boy does he do a lousy job....Somedays I don't have the energy. Other days I have too much energy and he becomes overwhelmed with the demand I place on him. My mom called me on the phone today to tell me she saw these changes I speak of and it concerned her. My dad cried the other night as he watched Sam melt over ever little life task. My sister who is the biggest Sammy fan has found her self grabbing his face to force contact and has put him in numerous time outs. Brian left parent training and said , I am really worried about his future. Sam does not understand intonation and facial expression and just laughs hysterically making it feel useless to reprimand him. People call and ask me how things are going and I get on a roll about it, just start to break down and they are like oh I got to go....If I could know Sam was alright I would feel better. If I could have some understanding of what is going on and why...If I could not feel guilty for feeling this way that I do for I know that there are people with mute children who will never talk, never live alone, never have a friend....Lets face it I wouldn't be here whining if Brian were here (drill weekend)..He is my friend and we work everything out...

This is a long one buckle in!

So here I sit , Keyboard in hand. I am glad people left me alone this time (sometimes when I don't blog for more than a couple of days or a week-people call and ask? So why is there no new post?). So it has been a while, and there are many reasons for this. The first time time that I actually wanted to blog was on 7th and 10th-Sammy's 3rd birthday party celebrations-however I got wrapped up in the planning, worrying, and picking up of the events that I just didn't get around to writting all the meaningfull things that I wanted to write about the 2 parties that he had and how much he means to me. Then September 11th rolled around and like many New Yorkers in this area I was glued to the T.V for 2 reasons-1.) to relive the night mare of the terrorist attacks and to remind myself of the cause that we still fight for today. 2.) The funeral of the N.Y. S trooper slain in the line of duty by a career criminal. I honestly felt that a blog post would arise from watching the funeral. Having watched several televised funerals for local policeman recently - I guess I did not feel that this one would evoke the devastating response that it did. I must say it was the fact that this trooper was around my husband's age, and they had a child around Morgie's age. He was in the marines like Brian and on Swat like Brian. I was like a stone watching the processional and I nearly applauded when I saw crowds lining the streets with thank you banners for the job law enforcement does. However, when I saw the Marine in his dress blues unload the coffin to the sound of the Marine Corps him my stomach turned and I instantly felt cold running down my face. I knew at that moment that -that could be Brian, I could be Terri his young wife and Morgie and Sam could be fatherless. I was run with emotion and for the rest of the day when I tried to speak I felt like nothing would come out. I spent part of the time with my friend Amy (also a cops/ Marine' s wife) watching the service. Her and I shared the horror and sorrow of the fact that it could easily be us. I don't know that I would have allowed myself to cry like that in front of anyone else. So after that night I was tired. I came up to sit down and write but it was like I was out in the sun all day and I just could not produce anything- so I went to bed.

Since then it has been slow going, I have committed to somewhat of an exercise routine and running (back upto squeaking out my 6 mile jaunt). I have since picked up my mother's rare dreaded auto immune psoriasis condition and my feet have endured so much on my 58 min run that they are covered with blisters. I have bandaged them and taped myself prior to the run as once my endorphines kick in after like 3.5 miles I no longer feel anything. But after wards I feel like that part in Karate kid where he gets kicked in the gut but just holds onto his side and carries on with the fight. That is what I am trying to do. I do have a tendency to go overboard ( on most anything I do ) I enjoy running. It gives me a sense of task completion and allows me to feel that numb sense of euphoria that my body and mind seek out.I am trying to drop some weight, build some muscle and squeak my post 2 kids fatass into a kickass dress for the Marine Corps ball and the Crossroads Autism Ball. It is not easy running outside and nor is it easy running inside on treadmill as Brian lays on the couch eating doughnuts and watching TV...LOL! But, despite my quest to be thin again (or should I say my quest to gain control) I do feel better and less on edge when I have exerted energy on something other than worry.

So, lately Sam is talking quite a bit. Up until about 2 days ago I was singing my age old "he is cured routine" (sarcasm with truth to his improvement). Behaviors started to escalate, eye contact is starting to deteriorate and he is able to produce great words and almost full sentences at times-however he cannot answer a question or follow simple directions. He is having trouble in public again and huge transitioning problems. When I say transitioning problems I don't just mean "typical " transitioning problems, but rather he is having problems simply moving from room to room. He is making loud noises, having some classic autistic tics and behaviors. Spinning , lining up things, eye movements,dragging his head, banging his head, and the latest this tongue rolling thing he does with his lips and tongue. I first noticed the tongue thing in all his graduation pics and now it is a full time habit-probably related to anxiety. So so much of what he is doing or not doing has got me very reluctant now a days to using my age old joking line "he's cured". It is very easy for onlookers and other parents to be ignorant to the fact of what we go through or what Sam goes through because he talks and is higher functioning then most, or perhaps and more likely that they are ignorant to autism, what it really is and isn't. I think it is comfortable for many other parents of nuerotypical kids and spectrum kids to think that Sam is so high functioning because he came from a diagnosis of PDD (as if that is any better -another misconception) -which he did not and because he started out "not as bad" which hw also did not. I tell these parents that Sam had nothing when he started treatment, no words, little sound, no contact, no response, he was putting his head through walls and staring for hours on end...He had and still has a diagnosis of Autism. I would like to bang my head against the wall as I am trying to make parents and doctors understand that Sam is doing as great as Sam is because Sam goes to school 5 hours a day and then comes home and gets more therapy and in between Brian and I are demanding quiet hands, three step compliance and dragging the words and the boy from autismland. There is no stimming allowed , there is no time for throwing , rocking and spitting. I may be out in a restaurant and taking a good 5-10 minute display of arching and screaming and aggression to demand the eye contact, the answer I wanted...All to make this boy understand that he is more than bad genetics. I have said it before, he has autism but it does not have him. We have made a choice for him, not because we want to change every little piece of him-just the ones that interfere with learning and living.

The other night the school had a parent meeting. I am always amazed that all 80 or so kids do not have a representative there . Maybe their was 30 people, pretty sad. It was also pretty sad to me that many of them do not get services outside of school or the max in school - because they either don't know, have been refused (and not fought back), or maybe don't have time or strength to fight anymore ( I hear that ). But I feel like every kid should get the same services, the same chance, the same quality of life. I had to fight real hard to get the services we got but I knew time was a wasting....The young Brain is a Brain that can be molded and changed. Many of these children can be pulled from the isolative lives they lead and be made to see the world around them. There are parents, I know that love their children so much and feel that things are too intense and too long for a 2-3 year old. I cry inside thinking Autism is intense (at times , although not the end of the world) and should be treated intensely. If my child had cancer, I would give him Chemo therapy which would make him sick all the time and put him at risk for other bad things but I would do it without blinking- because I am the parent and I know what is best. Hate me now, thank me later! People say, "let him be a kid, don't be so intense" . Intense is what is saving his life, intensity is why he is talking, intensity is why he can enjoy something other than starring, intensity is knowing how to play with toys, look at people, know his relatives....Intensity is the only option for an intense situation,intense behaviors, intense diagnosis, intense children. (climbing off the soap box)

So, we are at this meeting for the parents and the director is reviewing that criteria for autism and I am all stunned that he still meets it. She gave a crash course on ABA and basic stuff for the newer families and it was an excellent refresher. Brian and I Had forgotten about the first SD which is "look at me, quiet hands", we have since implemented it back in with better success in the eye contact department and following directions. Then she reminded us that it is not that children with Autism can't do certain things, it is that they have to be taught in the way that they can understand - how to do something. She kept saying, "it is not to say that they never will"- , they are taught by ABA, they hopefully get it, but then they are still considered spectrum...LOL! This was good that she said this because I play that game, well he does this ...So he cannot be autistic...LOL! Plus I think many people see all the things Sam can do now and think- see he knows things- but what they don't realize is that he has had them taught to him in a discrete trial for over a year now....So at the meeting the school had me plug the parents support group I help facilitate and the importance of advocating for SEIT and social work hours. Over this period when I get so touchy about what other say and think ( my own problem) I ask myself why that is- I come up with the conclusion that for most of my life and I know most of Brian's life people labeled us based on the way that we presented- and that couldn't have been farther from the truth about who we were and why we were that way. My biggest fear is that Sam will be seen as uncooperative, stupid, and disruptive when the truth is that he is very intelligent and endearing. I am worried he might been seen as "typical" and then left behind when he cannot produce.

So I went home from the meeting on Wednesday night feeling grateful to be reminded that we were back to basics, slightly sad (as if it should have been a surprise) that despite the rapid progress that has made (and I am so grateful for it) a review of the criteria still yielded the same diagnosis. The next day we had parent training at the school. Which is a day , once a month that you go in and brush up on your skills and watch your child rec. Therapy. Usually Sam is ok during this time. He does cry a lot but usually he completes his goals. He was terriable that day, he did nothing really, concentrated very little, made little eyes contact and I felt he was more aggressive and noncompliant than usual. When he was pulled out of the room to do his work in the speech room he was easily distracted by the sounds of the env, and other students. I remembered at this time why I had fought so hard for home services. I remember being in the room that day thinking he will never be intergrated in a regular old classroom- he cannot even filter out trucks going by. It is not that he didn't know what the teacher was asking it was that the world going on around him was too much at that time and I am sure that us being there didn't help. I left the school that day feeling somewhat set back (I was the only one that felt this way cause I am the only one that goes around jesting that he is cured) Was I not jesting? Am I in some sort of denial of the reality of things? See, not to blame it on others (I guess that is what I am doing) , everyone always says how great he is doing, how much progress he has made, and ignorant people say I don't see a difference in him compared to other kids-.....So, I guess trying to not be continually on the swing of the pendulum- knowing full well the kid that I live with and the kid other people like to see-I choose to play along with the people that say he is just fine! Because it easier! Many people tell me to turn what others say off because they will never understand unless they are going though it themselves- I agree . But anyone who knows me, and knows me well, knows that in areas that I am most passionate about I cannot do this without great difficulty- although I am trying hard.

So, if the day was not somber enough for me (boo freaking hoo right? Remember it is my journal and I am just venting for prosperity, not for sympathy-it should be noted that I am not at all unhappy with anything that I have- just sometimes my perception of things and only I can change that- see where years of therapy gets you?- I do not have to pay anymore I can answer my own questions...LOL!) we brought Sam to the pediatric neurologist/psychiatrist to rule out stare seizures. I am happy to say that unlike the noisy car you take into the shop that stops making noises the minute you pull into the garage- Sam actually had 2 episodes of starring while we were there. The doctor was very confident in saying that these were not stare seizures but rather typical "odd"autistic behaviors. He did recommend that we follow through with the EEG just to cover all bases and to have a baseline for his brain waves. The appointment was long (oddly enough since he ruled out the seizure thing in the first 10 minutes). The doctor spent a good deal of time watching Sam, asking questions, taking a history for his note. He was able to add to my craziness by confirming the fact that yes, there are times that you are watching Sam and his behavior screams Autism in the classic sense and then he said there are other times you are watching him and you think PDD, OCD, ADD- somewhere on the spectrum....He smiled and said either way his presentation, affect and behavior is considered "odd" to the professional evaluating but judging from what we told him he said his progress is remarkable. So prior to the bloodletting family history that he dragged us through- I backed him up to a little 3 letter title that meant something very scary to me. OCD. Many people say they have this? But how many have been so effected by it that they couldn't sleep, or go to work or school. I was treated for this between the ages of third grade and college. I was on every medication from soup to nuts (hence part of the obesity). The doctor reminded me that many of these children come out of the whole thing with duel diagnosis. He said that many of the facial "tics" and stereotypical behaviors that Sam was exhibiting in the office was classic OCD stuff. But time and behavioral therapy would determine what would be. He also told me that they were using resperidal to treat autism. I cringed at this because having been a psychiatric nurse and now in oncology- I am well aware of resperidol and its dangerous and sedating effects. I have never been on resperidol myself ( I haven't been on meds in almost 10 years). He said of course this was an option for Sam to cut down on some of his "ticing" and aggressive nature. Brian and I said that no option is ever out for us, we would consider everything. We have been talking about it and know that Sam is young and intense behavioral therapy has proven successful- so that is what we will continue until such time that we feel things are out of control. Things have not been unmanageable like the days when the helmit was around, his head was going through sheet rock everynight and the entire room was padded. I also thought that perhaps if the idea of medication ever presents itself again that maybe we would look at an SSRI instead of an antipsychotic...come on...Anyhow I don't know if I can ever go the medication route with Sam , because I have come from there myself and I know its limitations and because I know that in the end that the behavior has to change and it will never change if the child isn't taught and is medicated (this closemindedness does not applied to people who are danger to themselves or others- come on I was a psy nurse). Lastly, (as I mentioned earlier) to put the cherry on this already banner of a day, the doctor took us though an extensive family tree history, of parents, siblings and unfortunately our own history's. Unintentionally he made Brian and I feel directly responsible for Sam's position. We come from a long line of depressed, suicidal, addicted, nervous people-who by the way are all intelligent and neurotic. He reminded Brian and I of my ocd and his learning disability and stated that these and many other family/ self traits that we have are linked over and over to the neurological Autism. He tried to be kind and not lay blame but providing us with scientific evidence of both the genetic and environmental links left us drawing no other conclusion then that we were to blame...Brian and I joked later that Sam was swimming around in the shallow end of the gene pool...LOL! This doctor commended us for unheard of efforts, early detection and intense treatment. He complimented our marriage, sense of humor, honesty, friendship between Brian and I and our overall knowleges of autism and commitment to our child....As we walked out if the office Brian and I looked sick, him more so than me. He never has talked to anyone really in the psychiatry realm other than people I have seen. I think talking about his brother and having the doctor suggest that his bother was depressed or he wouldn't have taken his life-really was a reality that Brian never has thought about. I believe that Brian and I went into this meeting to talk about "stare seizures" and we came out learning about how our history molds our present and contributes to our future and the future of our children. We got into the car that afternoon and I touched his unshaven face, I felt a lack of strength there that I have never felt before. Why did it feel like we just got the diagnosis all over again? I quiclky made a joke knowing that B would appreciate it. Hey, so if the worst thing about us and us coming together in a union- is that we reproduce "odd' (the doctor's words) children (pleural - never excluding Morgan from the later possibility and reality of ASD) imperfect children than I think that is great. Our marriage is strong, our relationship and bond is resilient, we are the best thing that has happened to each other and because of the other one we are better people than we were before- oh and we have two beautiful intelligent kids whom I wouldn't trade or change in any way- autism included. We have the best tool going for us to help Sam get to where he needs to get and that is each other. understanding the truth about where we come from is painful, owning some responsibility for our child's diagnosis is probably not healthy but is probably scientifically proven- and natural for us to want to do....I always say (hence the blog) as painful as it is - "the Truth" of anything always sets you free ....to explore, to do over, to learn, to live, to love, and to except and overcome.......... and we all shall over come!

What aunt KK wrote about Sammy turning 3

Today Sammy is three. His Birthday marks three years of utter joy. His life has brought together as a family, a family that really was disjointed. He has made us all better people for knowing him and has overcome and accomplished more in his short life then most people do in a lifetime. He gives me hope for the future and a reason to make the world a better place. He reminds me daily of what it means or should mean to be a kid. Childhood is sacred and should be preserved and lived to the fullest extent even if that means spending a gizillion dollars on toys, eating more ice cream and cookies then I should, or getting sprayed with a garden hose while in my business suit. I know that there will come a time when I will miss playing with Thomas and going to the park, but I am willing to let that go for a seat at his highschool graduation and a prom picture. Sometimes you just want to go home and watch PISHIES.

Altered mental status, so we call it in nursing

Photo #1: He began to stare and not respond to his name or light shaking, I got the camera. Photo #2 a minute later, he responded to deep shaking and the he began to be fixated on his hands and fingers flicking them. Tonight we went to my sister in laws 20th birthday party, where Sam did great interacting and but for the exception of one small sound issue, some eye stim during play and a brief episode of spinning he was stellar. Lately I have been singing the praise of "recovery", but one thing still concerns me. I wanted to know if any parent of a ASD kid (maybe even high functioning Autistics like Sam) could relate or have insight. At night when Sam goes to be he lays there with his eyes open. He has what appears to be an involuntary nystagmus or wandering of the eyes. He has during these times not responded to someone opening up the door in his room and calling his name. This behavior is often accompanied by slight twitching. Initially at first when he was diagnosed I had explained this to the developmentalist who suggested an EEG to determine if these were "stare seizures". I have not done this yet as the child has to be sleep deprived for the EEG and I didn't feel that Sam could handle it, I am truly considering it at this point. The other thing that I have considered is that this is a way for Sam to wind down from an over stimulating situation. Sam truly has problems in self regulation and I believe that it takes a lot for him to function at the level that he does. I am putting this out there for people to see and comment on cause I am truly at a loss for understanding. Sam's father is very spooked by this behavior. He had brushed it off until he saw it first hand and nearly crapped his pants. I know my child in and out. I am learning about autism and I am one of the few parents I guess that believes in its strong neurological base. Sam's greatest problems are transitioning, processing, and regulating emotion, response and levels of arousal...I think I just described ASD...LOL....ah well let me know if you see any literature on this please.

Just like the prodigal son, I have returned

I have mentioned in a previous blog post about my clairvoyant tendencies. It is not uncommon for me to not "feel alone" at times, or maybe hear a voice from one that has passed. I pick up on smells of those gone before that linger. I find what I believe are often subtle messages from the those that walk among angels. Sometimes there are explicit instructions in a voice that will say, "slow down, don't do that, stay calm". Sometimes it is a feeling in my gut or a feeling as if that person is touching me or has their arms around me. Sometimes it is as simple as feeling something prior to it happening. I am no John Edward, but I shit you not about this. Sometimes it is so Freaky, that I wish not to be blessed with the company that follows me.

Brian and I have been together going on 6 years. He has a younger brother "K" and an older brother Sam that died at 25. The older brother Sam is who we named our son after (same exact name). The circumstances surrounding Sam's tragic death are unclear at times or shall I say clear to some people and not to others. What is not clear to me is how someone whom I have never met, finds his way into my psyche at night. Since Brian and I have been together I believe that Sam has joined the realm of people whom attempt to have communication with me (follow me for a minute, please don't hotline me yet)! LOL!

I have dreamt of this man (Sam) in painstaking detail over my time together with Brian. There were times when we first were together when I would wake up and talk to Brian about my dreams describing in detail some things about his brother that only someone who knew him would know (cloths that he had on, type of cigarettes, things that he said etc). I would explain them to Brian and he would role his eyes at me until I would say something that was only specific to his brother. The whole thing is rather spooky because I know so very little about him, and no one ever wants to talk about him. I only know of him what I see in my dreams. Lately I feel though, that he is trying to tell me something because he is very perseverative (family trait) about his presence. The other night my dream wasn't really about too much of anything important, it was only him (Sam) and I in the dream. Mainly we just hang out and he smokes the entire time. Last night, he was wearing a white undershirt and jeans, Bare feet (not sure of the significance) and bluishblack worn baseball cap backwards (so old the rim was a frayed). I picked him up in a car from an apartment complex where he exited through the fire escape balcony (weird eh?) when he got in the car he was smoking again, and I am like dude-give it up already, he told me to shut up and drive. He slid his seat back in the car and draped his one leg out the window, he said "I am the prodigal son and I have returned"..At this point I am thinking what the hell does that mean, are we in the now or the then? Why do I know I am dreaming but this feels real like a now? He asked me why I drive everywhere, If I had ever tried walking? I don't recall giving him and answer and I don't recall any other significant parts to the dream which would indicate a purpose for having it. I remember his lips being big , bigger than say both of his brothers. I remember thinking I don't know this man but everything about him seems familiar and wrong all at the the same time. He reminded me of "Chris" in the movie "stand by me" hard and distant with a streak of hidden sensitivity and humor. Not a big talker/smoosher like my brother in law and not as reclusive and distant as Brian....But distant none the less. I kept asking him where we were driving to but he just kept turning the music up louder and louder , The old school , house of pain song "Jump Around" was on. I love that damn song and the whole era it comes from, I searched for the lyric tonight and low and behold found a hidden answer:
Lyrics to House of pain, "Jump Around"
Pack it up, pack it in. Let me begin. I came to win Battle. Me that's a sin I won't tear the sack up. Punk you'd better back up. Try and play the role and the whole crew will act up. Get up, stand up, come on!Come on, throw your hands up.If you've got the feeling jump across the ceiling. Muggs is a funk fest, someone's talking junk. Yo, I'll bust em in the eye, And then I'll take the punks home. Feel it,
funk it Amps it are junking. And I got more rhymes than there's cops that are dunkingDonuts shop. Sure 'nuff I got props from the kids on the HillPlus my mom and my pops[Chorus].

I came to get down [2x]So get out your seats and jump
aroundJump around [3x]Jump up Jump up and get down.Jump [18x]

I'll serve your ass
like John MacEnroeIf your steps up, I'm smacking the ho. Word to your moms I came to drop bombs. I got more rhymes than the bible's got psalms. And just like the Prodigal Son I've returned, Anyone stepping to me you'll get burnedCause I got lyrics and you ain't got none. So if you come to battle bring a shotgun. But if you
do you're a fool, cause I duel to the death. Try and step to me you'll take your last breathI gots the skill, come get your fillCause when I shoot ta give, I shoot to kill[Chorus]

I'm the cream of the crop, I rise to the topI never eat a
pig cause a pig is a cop. Or better yet a terminator, Like Arnold
Schwarzenegger. Try'n to play me out like as if my name was Sega. But I ain't going out like no punk bitch. Get used to one style and you know I might switch. It up up
and around, then buck buck you downPut out your head then you wake up in the
Dawn of the DeadI'm coming to get ya, coming to get yaSpitting out lyrics homie
I'll wet ya[Chorus]Jump [32x] ......

So I am not sure the significance of anything, I just know that he is there, and there has to be some message. I feel like he is one of those friends that call you up ( appear in your dream) cause they need something and you go and get them to try and give them what they need, and you feel as if you are being slightly manipulated but - you give in cause you care about that person enough to want to help them get whatever it is they are searching for. Maybe it is not about what he needs, and more what I need, maybe he is trying to help me through something. I know so little about the man that Sam was, but yet I see him enough in my sleep to be reminded of the uncanny resemblance that he bares to my husband and more so his father whom I also only know in pictures. He is smaller than I imagined but more complicated than his family describes. I have to believe that he has more in store for me than a joy ride in a car filled with smoke...those of you who knew him- did he smoke alot? I mean like chain smoker? The type that really inhales and it is not for the "coolness" of it...

So I look at this picture of him tonight, one of the few that exists. His life is over now, but yet I think of him and apparently he knows this....The whole thing is weird and I bring it to this forum because I do not feel at liberty to push this issue with Brian, it is hard enough for him to believe in such clairvoyance, let alone where Sam is concerned...I am probably way off the mark with any of this , I just have an active and creative brain at night.

MDA and Labor Day

http://www.mdausa.org/telethon/



What would Labor day be with out the MDA telethon? I remember as a kid watching this with my grandparents as we cooked out and got ready for the fall return to school. Now having a child, with a manageable disability I am more sensitive to the "special needs" of children all over. I will be watching it this eve as I clean up around the house. I will pull 5-10 bucks that I am sure I don't have and call up...Why? Because I care about helping someone elses kid , like someone has helped mine...

The above website talks about Muscular dystrophy and ALS. If you cannot make a donation , than just do the parents of these children a favor and just go to the site and read about it....Education is the first tool in overcoming any battle... Many children's lives are complicated by poor health, leaving their parents hopeless and in pain. There is nothing greater out there to bring yourself into their mindset and feel if just for one moment what it would be like to have a child with this debilitating condition.....Open your mind, pick up your phone, say a prayer, kiss your own child..... http://www.mda.org/help/donate/


While watching the telethon tonight at 1130 pm Trooper Longobardo's father in law called in and made a donation in his memory, if that doesn't inspire one to help I am not sure what would!

For you I walk the line

Every once in a while I come across something that everyone else probably knew , but me in all my bottled blondeness was not aware of. I am fond of a song, the Johnny Cash, "I walk the line" , song. I just recently listened to the lyrics as Brian sang them off the T.V. I cannot imagine that I never stopped to listen to the lyrics, especially as they fit into my life. I know many guys that Brian is friends with that in passing will tell me (as if they want me to give him kudos) that all he does is talk about me, on the job , on deployment, or whenever the chance permits....I have had guys in his new unit tell me stories about me that I had forgotten. I have heard people joke about how "gay" he is about "us" ( gay is a guys way of busting on another guy for having or being something better than he is)....As insecure as I am about myself I never worry about where Brian is or what he is doing...We are better than that...That is my favorite line when we are in an argument or need to talk something out, I will say come on Brian "we are better that this"...and we always are....The most prized possession that I have is his loyalty. He is as loyal as a dog, as honest as an old person and as in love as a school boy. I am not bragging I am just proud of what we have, proud of what we are not, and somewhat happy with myself for being the kind of person that he dump "being a guy for".....LOL! I now know why he has sang this song along, I get it, and the same goes for me.....Cool huh?




JOHNNY CASH LYRICS
"I Walk The Line"

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine. I keep my eyes wide open all the time.I keep the ends out for the tie that binds.Because you're mine, I walk the line.
I find it very, very easy to be true.I find myself alone when each day is through.Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you-Because you're mine, I walk the line. As sure as night is dark and day is light-I keep you on my mind both day and night.And happiness I've known proves that it's right Because you're mine, I walk the line. You've got a way to keep me on your side. You give me cause for love that I can't hide.For you I know I'd even try to turn the tide- Because you're mine, I walk the line I keep a close watch on this heart of mine. I keep my eyes wide open all the time, I keep the ends out for the tie that binds. Because you're mine, I walk the line.

A New York State of mind

Joseph Longobardo, 32, NYS Police, Troop G, 8 years of Service...Former marine with Fox 225 and current USAF reservist.

I cannot say how sick I feel as a NY state resident that this young man has given his life for the safety of others. I am thankful that people like him exist , but I am ashamed that we live in a world where lives are taken by senseless acts of violence. This man's one year old son Lewis will never grow up with his father and his wife (Terri) will celebrate their Sept 7th wedding anniversary without him. I cannot imagine how his family and friends must feel because I too as a stranger feel immense sadness. There is a 225,000 dollar reward for the turn over of his killer (previous post) Bukey Ralph Phillips. Hundreds of troopers all over the state and in the area of Fredonia, shotguns in hand are looking for this 3 time cop shooter, 2 time cop murderer. I honestly hope that they take him alive.

There will be no redemption for a soul so evil. In my life recently, I have heard some pretty nasty stories of bad things happening in the world, mainly to exceptionally good people. It occurs to me how much I complain on a daily basis about my own trivial trials and tribulations. I feel sick thinking about young people who are not as fortunate as I am to wake up in the morning in the arms of the one that I love with my kids in the next room. Hearing stories of young people passing (violently or peacefully) make going to work, struggling day to day with money and bills and tolerating the flu meaningless....Autism anyone? Yeah well at least I am alive for my kid to help him, at least he is alive and not dying of a pediatric cancer....It was not my husband that was shot, it is not my husband deployed. I want to do something for this trooper and his family, but there is nothing to do. I want to be one of the people that make a difference in mankind and evoke some kind of change-but how do you change free will? The bible has been trying to explain this for years.
I guess it is the age old, cherish each day and live it to the fullest. I have no problem doing that but I absolutely feel helpless in this enormous world. I think about this trooper and his family and wish that I could give up something of mine so that they could know peace in their heart and feel less pain. I don't understand life at all, it is very painful to me lately. At work I am wrapping the bodies of ,30,40,50 years olds whom are not yet finished with their lives and suddenly I am caught between wondering when it is my turn and feeling so overwhelmingly grateful to be alive that I am scaring family members with my over affectionate nature. We cannot know when are day will come-that is why I am trying to live my life to the fullest despite the day to day bullshit. I guess that is all I can give this slain trooper- to not take my life for granted. It doesn't seem enough. I wish that this didn't happen to him.............

http://odmp.org/info/mission.php

Keep a watchful eye, for the purple tie!

Chained link or puzzle piece?

Sometimes the fence appears too big to climb, but then again it depends on how you are seeing that fence....Sometimes we fence ourselves in by our ignorance and fear of the unknown...Sometimes ignorance becomes enlightenment the minute we can see past the fence into the beautiful garden....

I know why the caged bird sings.....

Don't fence me in!

The Drinking Diaries

The 12 Suggested Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous

1.) We admitted we were powerless over alcohol--that our lives had become unmanageable.
2.) Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
3.)Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
4.)Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
5.)Admitted to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
6.)Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
7.)Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
8.)Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
9.) Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.
10.)Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of 11.)His will for us and the power to carry that out.
12.)Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

The later part of the 90's (my young adulthood) was extremely rocky and at times held together by the smallest of threads. I drank throughout my young life probably starting as early as 12 years old. At first it was a right of passage, the cool thing to do, a way (someone who over does everything) to over do it! Around 17 when I went off to collage (skipped junior year) I picked it up again, more frequently in fact. When I was 18,19 years old I would go out on thurs, fri, sat night and hang out with friends who were probably 5-10 years older than me. I would drink a bottle of scotch each of those nights. I was overweight, unsure, unhappy, and petrified of the world, who I was, or where I was coming from (none of which were excuses for my behavior and disregard of my health). Around 18-19 I met a man ( I shudder at calling him that) who was ten years my senior, I moved in right away with him (running away). I later married him at 20 (hoping for the best, and knowing nothing). 4 months into that marriage (which was unhealthy and abusive in nature) he told me that he didn't love me, he was seeing someone else, and that he wanted a divorce. I hit bottom, I did not eat for 30 days, I went from a size 14 to an 8. My body was spilling ketones in my urine and doctors threatened to put me in the hospital. I drank most days and nights when I was awake, I pushed myself with the help of my mother and sister through nursing school. I covered both the physical and emotional scars that were mine. When people were not looking I took a swig, when they were looking I changed containers....Anything to not feel what it was that I was feeling, although I still don't know what that was. After treatment in a hospital I was sworn from it. I pulled my life somewhat together after that with the help of family and a dear friend who saved my life (rob) over and over. I met Brian and things changed. I celebrated my 21st birthday in the company of great friends, reliable family and a new future (Brian). Not an ounce of alcohol that day or any of the days remotely close after. Brian and I got married that January following 911. We were married on the 4th of January and Brian had orders for Operation Enduring Freedom that started on the 9th of January for a term of 1 year or greater. At the time, he was to report to Camp Lenjune N.C where it was unsure if that would be where he would spend his time or whether the war on terror would take him some place else. He served his deployment in NC backfilling for the marines in Iraq for one year. I was able to visit several times on the weekends as money permitted. We were blessed with the conception of our first child who died in the 2nd trimester due to genetic/congenital issues. At the time of "Carlin's" death Brian was at a training exercise in The mountains of California. I chose to go the surgery by myself and he was flown home the next day. The drinking began after he returned to NC. It went on for some time, mainly at night. It ended when Brian had returned home and encouraged me to get help and clean up. After getting some therapy, I was once again completely dry, never even drinking a glass socially here and there. Then Brian went away again with the Marines when Sam was 18 months old. Sam began to head bang quite violently, putting his head through sheet rock and requiring a helmet. He wasn't responding to his name and he could not be taken out of the house at all for social events. Things were a nightmare and I was alone. When Brian got back we sought help and the process began regarding his diagnosis. Brian and I both crawled in a hole of disappointment, fear and reluctance. Sam's behavior and lack of responsiveness isolated Brian and I from the living world. I once again began to drink, here and there and Brian did not even try to stop me, he had no strength. Since that time I have drank on and off at social gatherings, sometimes when I am out to dinner- I know my limits. See I pulled the "drinking Diary" out to set the storyline. I have been feeling particularly anxious lately. So, because I try to curb the whole drinking thing- I eat. But it once again (after gaining all the weight back that I lost) occurs to me that eating is no better. It is just another way of self medicating. I came across one of my old call books from AA, it was dated 2000. In it were of course the 12 steps. I remember at the end of every meeting that I ever went to spouting them off while holding some other weak souls hand. See, although it is no excuse, it is a weakness , a flaw within a person that makes them lean on something not real, something numbing....What a coward I was and still am at times. I have balls of steel when it comes to helping others- I have brought people back to life and I have held them when they died. I have given different people in my life more of me than I ever will give myself. Hence there is the self induced emptiness that still lurks. I work on my behaviors - although they are dormant, because I want to best be able to help my children if they encounter low self esteem, societal pressure, or drug use of any kind. I backed out gracefully from being a psychiatric nurse because I did not want to be " do as I say and not as I do hypocrite". I understand all to well where the weak man comes from and how it is so easy to be comfortably numb. But in the world of numbness there is no elightenment. Even though I cheat from time to time on a diet, or with drinking I am very aware of the dead end street that this kind of life leads to . I challenge myself daily to do better , to be good, to know that I am stronger than whatever it is that may come. But part of a true addiction is one that carries over into the good times too. It is one that sneaks its way into your house like a rodent in the summer time. So......As I am reviewing the 12 steps in my mind (they are so applicable to life in general) I am thinking of my life and it does not appear unmanageable, but lets just say my feelings are unmanageable. I admit that I am wrong to binge eat like a damn maniac till I am sick, I guess I could ask someone for a hug but I might be uncomfortable with that as well. Just stress Damn it! So I am seeking to improve my relationship with my God, the way that I see him and believe in him. I need some sort of better faith, or comfort from not understanding the master plan. Some sort of spirituality that will pull me from the depths of negativity and unease. What is really F'd up is that I am very very happy with all that I have. I am very thankful for mylife and for the lives of those people I love....and I have all together lost my train with this blog...so that is all~...Sorry if it is like a bad confession of a movie with a crappy ass ending...After all- this space is for me and I just invite you here! Oh well

Making candy out of corn!

It is no surprise that Brach's has been making candy since 1927. Their candy corns are by far the best. Recently, I have thrown several other non Brach's candy corns out after only purchasing them in a desperate hope to extinguish the absolute need for candy corns. I admit I am somewhat of a candy expert, and lately my nerves have lead me to candy rather than other things that are not good for me. Despite gaining back the four ponds that I lost with my emotional eating I still am singing the praises of this golden masterpiece of a candy. As Mr food would say, OOOO' its so good!