Clean Up! Aisle Five.

Most writers I know crave a space of their own where they can think, doodle, and hopefully-write. I have an entire Pinterest board devoted to retreat-type spaces that given more time, space and money I would create and use to nurture my soul and encourage my craft. I imagine a life where there are outlets on every wall, and at least four places to sit or lounge, so one could read or rest or write.

It will be a quiet space, except for the sound of rain on the roof, which will never be louder than inspirational patter. It will be cozy, with natural light, and bold colors, or not, and blue walls, or yellow, or white-washed old pine. There will be alfresco dining and writing, and the sounds of birds or perhaps the city. It will be a beautiful space that is just barely big enough to invite someone else in, with room for everyone on the patio. It will be glorious.

Or, what really happened, after years of quaint cafes in Berkeley and surrounding environs, museum spaces in San Francisco, then later, my dining room table... I find myself, in a Starbucks cafe inside of a Target.

I thought it would go the other way, that the more I called myself a writer, the more likely my environment would look like a writer's life was supposed to look. I only started saying I was a writer when my daughter introduced me as one to her kindergarten teacher. It gave me the legitimacy that I had been waiting for, so I am going with it, but what about my retreat?  Where is my awesome chair and the corner couch?

Apparently on aisle 5...just over there, past the underwear and the back-to-school section.

Is it a fall from grace, or me recognizing that I do not need as many props as I used to? The coffee is hot, and the wi-fi is free. I'll take it.

In college I wore the uniform, black, and black. I had journals and fancy pens. I carried a leather mail bag that was so heavy it makes carrying a sleeping child seem like a breeze. I brooded appropriately. I drank black coffee.

I looked over some of my writing just yesterday and was pleased to see that not all of it was drivel, but some of the events that weighed down my being, while not frivolous, were certainly not the forever heartbreak I thought they'd be. I didn't even know what I didn't know.

Some of what I read triggered nostalgia, remembering the carefree time spent out dancing with friends until the bar closed, and smoking on rooftops with no railings, three stories up, in the fog of the Marina. Some of it triggered the feelings of lonely I had, even as I was surrounded by people who cared about me.

I was thrilled to find pieces of my husband, as background, then more, as we went from friends to marriage. I laughed at a crush or two I had forgotten.

I missed my little apartment with the tiny room that was barely attached to the house on Dana Street. I missed my friends who have scattered around the globe, and my little vase I filled with flowers every Friday as a treat to myself.

I missed writing every single night, aware that anything I forgot to put to paper would be lost to time. I wrote with passion, about passion. I wrote about the mundane, and the dramatic, and there was poetry, and lists of character names. I wrote, and wrote and wrote.

The time I am in is always the best one when I look back. Even if it was ugly, it was the best because I survived or endured something and came out the other side. And of course there are all the moments that enlightened and surprised me, those were the best too.

But I just know these are the best of times, with happy, healthy children and husband, and our great friends, and lovely adventures. I need to take care to remember these days.

So this wobbly Big-Box store cafe table will suffice. I don't need a specific space in which to write--I just need to make more space in my head so the words can attach to each other in meaningful ways, and then I need to write them out. I don't want to lose this section of our jumbled, messy, lovely, happy, frantic life over a throw pillow and a tin roof.

Busy Days of Summer

What a great week at the Lake house. Happy, tired kids and happy tired parents. Someone told me I looked rested today, someone else said I looked like I'd been "hiking or something." All I know is that I had a great time.

We had Sage and her family come up for a few days, and while I didn't manage to get a picture with all the kids together,  they got to do lots of things that they like. We went swimming at the beach, and went out on the boat and identified a rare bird for our neighborood. Jake got to chill on our hike, dribbling pine needles and rocks through his hands on the trail that used to be the train bed for the railroad that was built to supply the workers at Hetch- Hetchy.

 Kids and grownups scrambled all over boulders and only one foot of one adult, and one foot of one child got wet in the fun. Not bad. There were very few scuffles amongst the kids that were not resolved in under 5 seconds, and every single one was caused by Lucy being in someone's space. If ever there was a child who wanted a big sister it's Lucy. Thank goodness we have so many close family friends who will be able to step in to that role over the years.

Jake wore a hat. Woot! This is something we've been encouraging for the last two years, and it is really feeling like we can almost call it a success. With a history of melanoma in the family, it's especially important that we do what we can to protect the kids' skin. He lets me put sunblock on his face now too. Those ears get sun blocked every day, rain or shine!

Lucy got to drive around with the roof open on Daddy's Jeep. Even better when Descartes went back to the Bay area for a couple of days I got to drive around in the Jeep with the music and the sunshine and the bluetooth connection, and the awesome handling of the car, it is really hard not to smile the whole time you are driving that car... especially if you are driving it in to Yosemite because Oh My there is so much there right above your head.



I took the kids in to Yosemite by myself on Monday when Descartes went back to the city to work for a couple days. It was exhausting and awesome. Being responsible for little people all by yourself a long way from home with no local safety net is apparently something that gives me a bit of anxiety. It also made me feel powerful, strong and very cool. I'm sure driving with the wind in my hair and sun on my shoulders helped me get through. Did you know I am younger, more beautiful, and always recycle when I am in that car? Did I mention that we love the car?

Lucy asked me to take a picture of her where she is holding up the biggest rock ever. I think she got these crazy photo ideas from Mali and Iz. I will be studying how to get proper forced perspective shots so we can get them over with. By the time I take her to Pisa I want to be able to get that cool shot with her kicking over the Leaning Tower.

Lucy is loving being a little Junior Ranger. In fact, when asked to wear a hero costume to camp past Friday she chose her ranger outfit with hat and vest, because she thinks Park Rangers are like "heroes for the planet." This is one endeavor I do not mind indulging so that means a pin purchase and stamps from the ranger stations in our little passport book. It's been a learning experience for all of us, because as it turns out I did not know that garbage that you might find in the National Park that is over 50 years old should be treated as a historical items. So congratulations all you hippies who left your soda cans in the campground, they are now artifacts!

We explored an area new to us in the Yosemite Valley, the Happy Isles Nature Center. Most of it was very wheelchair friendly, and we were able to park about two miles closer with the disabled placard making the actual hiking part possible. We've been very good about asking Jake if he wants to walk or ride. I forget sometimes that his low tone means that he really will be tired and might not even be able to walk well towards the end of the day.

He and Lucy have both been pretty good sports given each of their limitations. She's only 6, and her little self gets tired out seemingly out of the blue. I think her blood sugar drops and she just plummets. She goes from greatest kid ever to, uhm, not the greatest kid ever. We can fix that most of the time with something from the bottomless snack bag that goes with us wherever we go.
There is so much to see and do, and there are all of those animals and birds to check out, I'm not sure that we will ever get tired of this beautiful place. It doesn't hurt that there is pretty decent pizza and if we stay too late, there's that awesome, inexpensive all-you-can-eat buffet in the evenings in Curry Village. We even discovered that the Pizza Deck has good beer (and commemorative glasses!) I'm not much for Hefewisen, but on a hot day at altitude it sort of hit the spot.
There was an Independence day barbecue, which included an airshow, and music, and many multi-generational families. The world is small, so of course the table next to us had a family that had retired to the Lake from my hometown, and the father had worked with special needs children in his first years of teaching. His daughter went to my rival high school. And there were many people who just stopped by to say hello to Jake. What was nice is that they all said hello to him before they said hello to me. Jake thought the tiny pony was pretty funny but chose not to pet him.

We did a lot of boating on the lake. This kind of cruising makes Jake very happy. He happily wore his life jacket and made me feel at ease enough to sip wine. Some days we took the boat out once in the morning and again for a wine and cheese cruise. It is such a luxury, and I cannot thank my husband enough for his ease on the water, parking the boat, picking us up on other docks. He makes it all look so easy. For the big celebration we entered the boat parade and while they don't give out a second prize, apparently we would have won it. It was supposed to be an historic event, so my darling husband bought hula-hoops and we went for the gold with Olympics 2012. That's the London Eye and Big Ben. We also had a cauldron and the Olympic torch. Little Lucy yelled "GO USA!" for about an hour. We had no colored paint for anything, so if you'd like to know how to make latex house paint go from beige to slightly not beige we don't really know the proportions, but it took coffee grounds, coffee, soy sauce, and a dash of Worcestershire. Pathetic, but very fun. Big Ben is very textured, and smells just plain odd.

Jake went back to summer school and has had positive reports filled with happy sounds and "cooing" as his teacher told me today. Lucy is settled into a new camp where she swims every day, so that little fish is happy and completely over tired by 4:30pm. I am trying to get back to work after weeks of sketchy Internet service. And Descartes and I are both trying to get back to a world where beer with lunch is not normal, and there is no ordering two-for-one pina coladas for me.

Tomorrow is music in the park which we all enjoy, and it just makes me feel all the more thankful because it seems every city in which I rest my head, is a pretty awesome place. Cheers!

Dispatch from Another Planet

I'm in an internet cafe in Mexico. It' not so surprising that I might be traveling, because our little family has done all sorts of great travel, but I'm here by myself. Well, not by myself, but without my husband and my children.

I miss them. It's hard not to because I have a funny husband, and cool kids who make me laugh a lot. We get along, for the most part, about most things, and we have a great time together. Just last weekend, for Father's day we took off up the coast and visited the Point Reyes National Seashore, adding another National Park to their list. We had the top off the Jeep and the music booming and there was singing and laughing and oysters and there was fog and sunshine, and a good time was had by all.

I'm also having a very lovely, and I might even say, a relaxing time being responsible only for myself for a few days. Of course I'm looking out for my girlfriends, because that's what you do when you travel with other people, but when it comes right down to it, I'm just me on this trip.

Stories slip out of my mouth reminding people that I have other roles, wife, mother, daughter, sister, but those people aren't with me, so no one walking by has any idea that my daughter is over 4 feet tall, and my son often uses a wheelchair, that my husband can build anything with those gigantic meat-hook hands. I'm just a blonde lady, who apparently almost looks my own age, when I have had enough sleep.

I've decided it's good for me to get away from my "every day" sometimes. I don't think I need to go to Land's End every time to get that same feeling, but I think it's hard to gain perspective when you are just so close all the time. Being a little more disconnected from teh interwebz hasn't hurt me either. Not reading what virtual strangers think about me has been a nice break, even if some of their ruminations show me in a kind light.

So I am off for a day of adventure with some wonderful, fun, compassionate women. Later I'll have some fruity drinks and watch the sunset, and before I know it I will be back to 'real life.' But for today, this is my real life, and I'm really happy.


************
Thank you, precious husband,  for holding down the fort, and coordinating all of the people of our awesome village who are helping us care for our kids while I am gone. I am a very grateful woman.

Fit to Print

The book ... THE BOOK is now available. I am taking a break right now from building the Kindle version to mark this occasion on my own blog. We have received wonderful reviews so far, especially from Steve Silberman who has called Thinking Person's Guide to Autism the Book of the Year.
He says...

...my favorite book of the year on autism was curated and self-published by a group of parent-warriors with the express purpose of sparing other parents the grief, isolation, and confusion that followed their own kids’ diagnoses. Called the Thinking Person's Guide to Autism, it offers helpful, positive, pragmatic, evidence-based advice for making the life of your kid and your family more rewarding and more joyful, starting today. I can’t think of a better holiday gift for someone with a loved one on the spectrum. With current estimates of autism prevalence running at 1 in 110 people in the US, the book deserves a wide readership.

(I hope you read the rest of his article...Leo's cuteness is featured quite prominently!)

This book has been an honor to be a part of, and I can only hope that there's a story, a chapter, or even one line that helps another person navigate this life a little easier. There was nothing like this book when Jack was diagnosed more than seven years ago. I didn't know which information to trust. I didn't even know any adults with diagnosed autism. The website, the online relationships and all of the great content just amazes me.

And I have learned and grown over the last year and a half. My mind has been changed, while I have also become more confident in my own story.  I have a better understanding of community, and I am learning what advocacy looks like, or should look like. My heart has softened, just as my resolve has become a bit more steely. My heart holds so many more people and all of their words.

I have always said I am a different woman, a better woman than I would have been for knowing my son. I know that I would have been a writer or an editor of something somewhere. I probably would have donated my time and skills to help others because I was raised to think that is important. But I recognize that I am only a part of this great project because of my son. All of his struggles and triumphs, and the future that lies before him in this great big world filled with malice and grace. He led me to this opportunity, and I hope he is proud of the work we have done.

Buy your copy today!

Is the Gate Locked?

check. double-check

We don't ever really relax. We think we do. We get babysitters and go out for drinks with friends. We take turns keeping an eye on Jake, but really there are only five days a year I do not worry about my son: the 'week' he goes to camp. Other than that, my mind, and quite often my body,  is on duty twenty-four hour a day. Part of that responsibility is just what it feels like to be a parent, but I've seen other parents with typical kids, and I see how they can let go of their child's hand in the store, leave the car door or window unlocked, leave the back gate without double-checking the double-lock. They can expect that their child is not going to shimmy through the dog door, and just about disappear in silence.

But there are places that are easier than others. Places where I can let my guard down a little bit, because I either have the safety in numbers of responsible adults, or a well-enclosed space, or just one other person who completely gets my kid, and can recognize things that will be dangerous even if they look safe for another special needs kid.

Our house is one of those places, and thankfully we own our home and can make improvements and adjustments to the walls, and fences without asking any one's permission. Our home is safe, but not without some very serious rules, and a lot of attention to detail. If you come to a closed door or gate in my house...there's a reason, and it's probably not because I don't want you to see me naked. If you make a mistake and leave even one gate or door open, there could be consequences that range from, dirty shoes on the bed (so don't care), to a child covered in dog poop (completely annoying), to a boy who has wandered past the driveway (very worrisome, and I can guarantee that I will cry when we find him), and of course, there's death, because we really can't be sure of Jake's safety awareness, and it's not like he is just going to come back on his own, unless he decides to return through that open gate. Lucy just turned five, but after a pre-teen visitor to the house left the back gate open, I told her that no matter who comes in behind her, even if it is a grown up, it was her responsibility to make sure the gate is locked after any time she passes through it. She gets it, and has done it without complaint, but the amount of responsibility we must place on her is nearly unbearable to me.

Mt. Tallac at sunset.

Tahoe is a safe place for Jake. My sister and her husband, and their children all look out for him, know his abilities, and know when he is not okay by the tone of his vocalizations. The backyard is large and gated and filled with toys and tan bark and a trampoline where the little kids entertain him with their bouncing, twirling and bickering. I know that Jake cannot escape from the backyard, so when Demanda and Jaster clean up the entire place for Jake (thank you thank you thank you), all we need to do is periodic checking for dog poop, which you would do for any bunch of kids playing. With everything taken care of, we can sit on the upper deck, all four children within our view. With nice weather and a frosty beverage this almost looks like relaxing.

And even luckier, I have a few friends who either have Jake-safe homes all the time, or who care about his safety enough to change things while we are there. One family has cleaned up a dirt area and put in palm-sized rocks for Jake to tumble, and ensures that the pool gate is locked at all times, and another has a big front yard that is fenced and filled with dogs and kids who will not let him go out the front gate. We have still more friends who try, in every way, to make their houses a place where we can bring our entire family, by checking gates and keeping the front door closed, even when it's an Open House.

But as much as I really do not want my child to be injured, there is another part of him being safe in our home, in our extended-families' homes, and our friends' homes which may be even more important; it's acceptance. Acceptance cannot be nailed into a wall, or double-locked. Creating an environment of acceptance is not as easy as just sweeping up.

Acceptance is knowing that my son might trample your new grass, or steal the top soil out of your planter, and inviting him to play nearby them anyway. It's not really keeping track of the number of little things he's swiped off your counter, and hidden or broken. And not being too bothered by the copious amount of food that always seem to be at my child's feet. It's inviting a child, my child, with 'toileting issues' to come swimming anyway. It's believing my son has something to say. And it's forgiving me when I can't clean up our debris and dishes because we "have to go RIGHT NOW."

It's inviting us over at all.

And it's inviting us back.

I am thankful.

****

a version of this post was an editor's pick today at OpenSalon.com

Bad for My Health-Good for my Spirit

• Going to Dairy Queen with my kids (even better if my husband surprises us there.)
• Drinking a bottle of champagne with my sister.
• Napping on the couch, my feet tangled with my son's, his body having just learned to sit still long enough to cuddle.
• Talking late into the night with girlfriends who live too far away to see at my local coffee shop.
• Trying at least seven kinds of bold coffee in my new "Pod Canchine" (Single cup coffee maker)
• Licking the frosting off my fingers as we decorate Valentine's day cookies.
• Beating Critter Crunch (do NOT start playing this game on your iPad)
• Watching a movie with my husband "past bedtime on a school night."
• Sneaking candy before dinner with my daughter.
• Skipping the umbrella because -it's only water

Give Me A Little Sugar

I went to Jake's school yesterday for the parent group meeting. I love going on his campus.. it is so filled with great people and interesting kids (and adults).. and friendly office staff. Each time I step on that campus I am reminded how lucky I am to have my son at such a great school, and grateful that he is thriving there.

Jake's been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately. I'm not sure if it's growing pains or nightmares or pre-teen angst, but he's been up and out of bed as many as ten times a night. Sometimes I hear his feet patter across the hardwood, other times he whoops and hollers (which his little sister just loooooves.) It doesn't really matter because unless I am really, really sick,  I can hear my children through closed doors with the television blaring... I can hear when a blanket has slipped off the bed leaving a little tushie uncovered. Is this a mom thing? or a skill I have picked up because Jake requires such constant monitoring?

Lately if I hear him all the way out of bed and coming down the hall I will greet him and lead him back to bed. He usually dives back in, but more recently he's been leaping in to bed, then sitting back up and looking right at me, as if he is asking for me to sit with him, or lay down and sing to him, or pet his hair.

He has added a new level of relationship to his repertoire, and with these new developments we are experiencing more snuggling, more hand holding, more gentle swishing the hand across a person's back, and, at school, I saw him lean in for a hug from a peer. Not a class aide, because he is generally pretty friendly with his aides.. but another child in his class! Apparently the boys have mutually decided that they are best buds, and the other little boy hugs Jake and speaks to him in sign language, and Jake laughs and reaches out to hold on to him...and there's smiling, so much smiling!

And Squid and I had a good laugh because she had heard that her son had become best buds with Jake in another classroom. She was surprised to learn that it was our Jake! Our boys are seeking each other out, standing near each other...hugging?

Our nonverbal, English-as-a-native-language in a predominantly Spanish-speaking school (previously), Jake has still had friends, he even had a girlfriend in first grade (the daughter of a class aide fell madly in love with him!), and everyone seems to know he has a good sense of humor. I'm not surprised really, because as not-nice as I think I am, I have managed to collect a lot of wonderful friends, and I don't think there's a person yet who hasn't liked my smart, kind, always-does-the-right-thing, husband.

I didn't know I had a check-box on my "Life List for Jake" that had anything about ensuring he could establish friendships on his own, but of course I did, I think that must be normal, because I know I have it on Lucy's list. Nice to be able to check a few things off now and then

Mad Woman Takes a Pause

I am cleaning out my bookshelves and the kids' drawers trying to make room for some peace in my life, and I'm actually getting somewhere. I think I am giving away about 100 books today. I'm feeling like we need a good clean sweep of things.. of everything to keep our family headed in the right direction.

Just now I made the mistake of opening a journal from 1995. I probably should have just thrown it out without looking, but decided to read a bit instead.

Wow. I dated a lot that year, which makes sense, because it was the year before I started dating my husband. I had forgotten the drama, and the highs and lows of that young single life. It made me ever more grateful for what we have now, however hard some days are. I did a lot of dancing, at least twice a week, and a lot of falling head over heels for the wrong guys. From the looks of it, I had good friends and I worked all the time.

What was fun to find, along with poetic descriptions of rock bands and smoke-filled cafes, was a list of descriptors that I think I was putting together to use as part of a checklist for a spouse. It is interesting to see the things I valued then...not only did I find most all of them in my husband, but I actually still value those traits today.

smart	outdoorsy	humble
handy	eloquent	friendly
opinionated	kind	reserved
private	stubborn	appreciation of the arts
sense of humor	passionate	solid
ambitious	compassionate	social
strong	witty	dedicated
educated	family oriented	committed
amusing

When I made this list I had already met my future husband, and I wonder how much he influenced the list, considering how much time we spent together that year (as friends). Did I really put stubborn down as a trait to look for? Maybe I meant, not a pushover, or with conviction?


and now, back to work.

The Hat Makes the Man

I don't really like Halloween. I'm not sure when I started not to like it. Maybe it was the pressure of coming up with a great costume; jeesh, I had the kind of friends who dressed up as green m&ms and other cool things.

Maybe it's that I was raised to think that I was  destined to be hit by a car while trick-or-treating, or that by the time I got to college, it was expected that all females would dress as some sort of sexy version of normal things: sexy vampire, sexy nurse, sexy meter maid, sexy butcher, sexy Cal-trans worker...although I did the Castro thing in the late 90s, and I had fun (and yes I went as a sexy cowgirl).

and now I'm a mom, and so I do Halloween. I am anxious about it every year, that my kids won't have the right costume, that they will look back and think I didn't do enough.. it will somehow be obvious that I can't wait for October to fly by.

scary girls, scary babies

But enough of all that... we DID do Halloween this year, and not only that, but it went well from costumes to school parties to trick-or-treating.

We went to the Halloween store a few weeks ago in the search of a costume for Jake.  We've done several years of those muscle costumes where the fabric is stuffed with filler to make the kid look big and manly. So far, he's been the Hulk, and Superman and Mr. Incredible, and Spiderman and I can't remember what else. They are great, easy costumes (which end up in the dress-up box later!), but we couldn't find one we liked.

We found a lot of scary things that someone, not us, might set up around a house, but the costume selection was not all that great for tween boys unless you want to wear a mask. We didn't find anything reasonable that night, although my daughter very sweetly let me know that I my legs would look great in this costume:

I love that my daughter thinks I look like this

We carved pumpkins with Descartes' parents last Sunday, which was fun, and made me remember that I carved pumpkins with them the first year I knew them in 1995. This year the carved pumpkins didn't last until Halloween. We enjoyed, okay, I enjoyed, watching Hello Kitty slowly melt and be consumed by mold. It was less fun to clean it up, but I have a wonderful husband who took care of that.

We finally found costumes for both kids. Lucy went as Belle, and Jake went as a cowboy. Picking out Jake's costume was really very fun. Descartes, Lucy and I each picked one or two costumes we thought would work for Jake, then presented them all to him. He laughed and laughed, especially when we each tried to convince him to choose the costume we were holding. We got it down to three, then two, and he finally picked the cowboy outfit.


Both children had school parties/parades... Lucy first... my galliwompus little Belle, who could barely hold still long enough for me to brush her hair. She actually said that her head was going to pop off because she was so excited about Halloween. For trick-or-treating on Sunday night she had to put on a long sleeve tshirt under her dress. I love how Northern California kids just suck it up and wear jackets or layer to keep warm. There's no complaining like we did when I grew up...oh, all that moaning I did about how the shirt or jacket was going to ruin my costume.

The best story of Halloween may be as simple as a hat. Jake wore a hat. JAKE WORE A HAT!

He apparently wore his hat almost all day at school on Friday. Certainly he wore it the entire time Lucy and I were with him when he went from classroom to classroom collecting candy. He also wore it on Sunday trick-or-treating. This is so huge. He's also been wearing his helmet when he rides his bike at school, and all this after he wore a helmet horseback riding this summer.

I know he's getting older, that he's learning every day, gaining new skills, but I think I have just let go of some things. When we realized that Jake hated hats (and gloves) we knew that we were not going to move to any place less temperate, and I sort of stopped worrying about it, and stopped thinking about it last winter. It is exciting to be able to check that box off. We still have a long way to go before he's wearing a baseball hat to keep off the sun, or a knit cap to keep warm, but I'll take several hours of an ill-fitting cowboy hat. It's a start, and we like starts because that means at least we are on the same road.

yes, Gus has a costume on.

awake and happy the entire time!

Sunday night we went through the neighborhood with a couple of other families. Jake went in his wheelchair, for safety, our peace of mind, and the fact that he normally goes to bed around the time most kids start trick-or-treating, so we expected him to get tired. Lucy was very precious, as she asked for another piece of candy for her brother, if we couldn't easily wheel the chair to the door. Later, she just took half of whatever she had been given and put it into his bag rather than ask for more. She gets extra points for that because that girl loves candy like no one I have ever seen.

Everyone made it through the trick-or-treating..no tears, no complaining, no melt-downs...we have bags and bags of candy, and no sick stomachs. Both kids are sleeping now, (although Lucy is next to me on the couch) and I am a grateful woman who just might like Halloween a little bit more this year.

Posted By Popular Demand: Cake

It is my sister's birthday next week, so while she was visiting this weekend, in between the reveling and the beer-making, and the beer-drinking and the concert-going, I made her a cake.

A few of her favorite foods in life are mayonnaise, chocolate and apparently Bordeaux chocolates from See's Candies..that last one I actually didn't know about when I chose which cake to make her, but this cake sort of managed to hit all those sweet spots.

I remembered that I had read about a World War II era cake that used mayo instead of eggs and shortening because as two of you may recall, and a few more of you may have read.. there was rationing during the war...back when people actually had to sacrifice some of their personal luxury for the benefit of a greater good...but I digress.

Wikipedia tells us "Tires were the first item to be rationed in January 1942 after supplies of natural rubber were interrupted. Soon afterward, passenger automobiles, typewriters, sugar, gasoline, bicycles, footwear, fuel oil, coffee, stoves, meat, lard, shortening and oils, cheese, butter, margarine, processed foods (canned, bottled, and frozen), dried fruits, canned milk, firewood and coal, jams, jellies, and fruit butter were rationed by November 1943."

And since necessity breeds ingenuity, the bakers, really, the women of that generation, found new ways to make their cakes..voila... the delicate deliciousness of this cake was born.

This recipe comes from America's Best Lost Recipes: 121 Heirloom Recipes Too Good to Forget in which I have found several great recipes, for obscure and once well-loved foods like Runsas, which are also called Bierock which my family loved.

World War II Chocolate Mayonnaise Cake (all italics are my own notes)
Ingredients
Cake
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup Dutch-processed cocoa powder
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 cup mayonnaise
1 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup water



Frosting 
(I doubled the amount of butter, brown sugar and milk, and used 1 1/2 cups of powdered sugar to make my frosting, because we always like more frosting. I think if I had used the entire amount of powdered sugar it would have been too stiff.)
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
2 tablespoons milk
1 cup confectioner's sugar

Directions

Adjust an oven rack to the middle position and heat the oven to 350 degrees F. Grease and flour a 9-inch square baking pan. (Because you make this in a 9x9 pan you can actually use your counter top (toaster) oven to make this cake, thus avoiding heating up the entire kitchen!)

Whisk the flour, cocoa, baking powder and baking soda in a medium bowl.

Stir the mayonnaise, granulated sugar, and vanilla together in a large bowl until smooth. Add the water and stir until combined. Whisk in the flour mixture until incorporated.

Scrape the batter into the prepared pan (you can actually let kids lick the spatula here without worry since the eggs in the mayonnaise have already been cooked! A great cake to make with little kids!) and bake until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, 30 to 35 minutes. Cool completely in the pan, at least 45 minutes. (Many people leave this cake in the pan and frost it there. I flipped mine upside-down onto a serving platter before frosting it so it would look more birthday-ish and less Grandma VanZanten Poor-Man's Cake-ish..but let me tell you Grandma VanZanten's cake was AWESOME!)

*****
For the frosting, melt the butter in a small saucepan over medium-high heat. Stir in the brown sugar and bring to a boil. Boil until the mixture begins to thicken, about 2 minutes, then, off the heat, carefully stir in the milk.

Return to a boil, then remove from the heat to cool until just warm, about 30 minutes.

Stir in the confectioner's sugar and spread the icing evenly over the cake. The cake can be stored at room temperature for up to 3 days. (if it lasts that long!)

Enjoy!

Ten, Ten, Ten

When my brother Gerard was little, and learning to count, he and my dad would slowly count together. One to five would be drawn out and slow, six and seven even-paced, but right about eight, and certainly after nine, they would make a sudden race for ten, and together they would nearly shout "Ten! Ten! Ten!"

and that is just how I am feeling as this day rolls around, and my first child, the boy who made me a mother is ten. Ten. Ten!

It's cliche to say it all goes by too fast, and in our case I don't think it's always true. Some days, even a year can fly by, but other moments are so weighted with importance, or joy, they seem to be almost outside of space and time.

He went on his first road trip when he was three weeks old, to go to my cousin's wedding. He slept on a wing chair, wrapped up like a little burrito.

He is getting tall these days, taller than his dad was at that age I think, and though he has puppy feet, nearly too big for his body, his movements are smoother as he gains more control, and more awareness of his limbs. 

He ate an entire papaya and chicken quesadilla at the Mai Tai bar in Oahu when he was only ten months old. Later that year, the chef came out to see the baby who was eating the wasabi mashed potatoes at the Four Seasons in San Francisco.


He has a great sense of humor, and a laugh that is infectious. My favorite is when he giggles so hard that he has to take a big breath. He stands still to let his little sister tickle him, and will come over to the couch for a family tickle match.

The first time he held his own cup and took a drink, we were at an Indian food restaurant and he was more than two years old. 

He moves so quickly it's hard to believe doctors thought he'd never walk, and he loves to test adults by pretending to meander before he breaks into a full run towards any exit that has been left open.

He took his first steps across our living room while he was yelling something at us. We couldn't understand him and he was so frustrated he got distracted and walked seven steps. 


He likes to be outdoors. I think he would be happiest on 40 acres; a place with a grove of shimmering trees, and a small brook with pebbles lining its banks. His love of nature inspired our AdventureVan purchase, and his love of the AdventureVan inspired our cross country journey this summer. He is a road-trip, roadside diner, let's-just-pull-over-here-for-the-night type of kid; his flexibility amazes me.

He went to sleep-away camp for the first time the summer he was five. As we drove away and watched as he ran off smiling and laughing down a leaf strewn hill forcing his counselor to chase him. 

He's showing an interest in technology, gently touching the screens at home on devices, and using the mouse at school to get through stories he likes on the computer. I love the sibling dynamic as he tries to grab the iPad or iPod from his sister and laughs as she shrieks to keep her hold.

He got into the car by himself last week, no physical prompts at all, and when we went home he went in through the gate without holding hands, and without running away.

He is affectionate, and more and more often he leans in to show his desire to be near you. His wordless gestures teach me that my body language, my movements, the spirit I carry through my home is often more influential than my words.

He got out of bed when I passed by his room tonight. He gently touched my arm before he turned and ran back to his bed. He buried himself in the pillows laughing.

******

Happy Birthday sweet boy.

WunderSkool Here We Come!

Jake has been accepted into the program at WunderSkool! I know it may not truly be a panacea, but today it feels that way, and darn it, I am gonna take that feeling and savor it for at least a few days. We already have the transition meeting arranged.

and... there might be room for Lucy at the local awesome day school... what to call it? Maybe Woodstock? They will call me in the morning.

and...I found sweatpants at leTarget for Jake for to use as pajamas at camp.. he leaves *tomorrow* He is very excited.

and... no one is sick at my house

Howz 'bout in celebration y'all forward an email to every person you know and get them to sign that petition we've got going!

Ask Mrs. Obama to help form an Autism Corps. Please sign the petition http://tr.im/sa3y and while you're at it, join the Facebook group! http://tr.im/sbWD

Have a great day.... I am!

Experience

just ran naked into the Pacific ocean as the sunset faded into the water.

Damn. I have a great life. Thanks for watching the kids Descartes!

She's Incredible

before breakfast...


and later at the Halloween party...

Clean Not-So-Mini Van, Friends and Art

I cleaned out my car. This means I now have at least 2 Costco-sized, and 3 Trader Joe's bags filled with krap in my kitchen and guest room. That's the bad part. The good part is that I was able to pile friends in my car yesterday and wind our way all over the Bay Area.

Emerald Hills at Ep's house is a peaceful way to start an October morning. There are quail and deer and birds and had we stayed even a few moments longer we would have heard the bees buzzing in her lavender bushes. It is a slice of country just blocks from my own home. It is one of my new favorite places, which makes sense to me as this is now the second woman that I really like who has owned the house.

280 North is always a beautiful drive. The lanes are wide and the road sweeps in gentle curves back and forth... and people drive fast. I love to drive fast. From the back seat I am asked by Captain Blog "Are you a lead foot?" I ease off the pedal as Squid reminds the carload of potential San Bruno area drivers that this particular area is a happy hangout for the Po-lice. I ease our way into a pack of cars who have slowed to 70 and realize that I rarely relax.

The Golden Gate Bridge shed its fog for the morning and a necessary potty break landed us in the Vista Point parking lot with clear visibility all the way back to the San Francisco peninsula. I take a short walk around the parking lot and returnto my seat behind the wheel thinking, "Wow. We sure are lucky aren't we?"

Sebastopol is farther away than I remember, but not so far that my coffee cup still has some warm caffeine when we hit some sort of magical coffee hut/hip people mash-up. I enjoy a Lattacino, which is perfect for me unsweetened with less milk than a latte and more than a cappuccino. There are lots of children with striped tights and layers of clothing.

We head into downtown and unleash ourselves on the farmer's market. DT and I debate whether we need to create a makeshift icepack so we can enjoy tasty cheese later at home. We meander about. I eat a peach the size of my daughter's head and buy award winning honey and a loaf of bread which I share a bit of, but mostly I hold it and nibble on it as if it is a lollipop in my hand.

Do I have this out of order already? probably. It was the Sebastopol Art Trails, and at Squid's invitation we (mostly) follow a schedule of bliss which also includes time for amazing artists, lunch on a patio, a visit to a nursery and because we still had time a new tea house. One of my favorite stops was Patrick Amiot and Brigitte Laurent Their work is fantastic. It is whimsical and interesting and charming and edgy and beautifully painted and I want a sculpture in my front yard. I buy my sister a calendar, and hope that she will know that I wanted to buy her half the art in the place when she opens up the calendar for her birthday (which is today).

The countryside was beautiful, and while Squid is the most perfect navigator, I almost think she let me meander a bit on those winding roads purely because I was enjoying the scenery. The grape vines are all turning and the apple trees...the apple trees! Everywhere and loaded, and dropping their fruit. It would have been a good day to be a drifting horse, munching gravensteins here and Mcintosh there.

In Graton we viited two artists who share a space, and, I believe a life together, Lisa Beerntsen and Tony Spiers They also had a beautiful garden. They have been a part some incredible group art (Art Farm) which has been at Burning Man. It was neat to see the art in the studio, because my current life path does not indicate an adventure to Burning Man is going to happen. Lisa's art was very beautiful. In some of the current pieces she had incorporated vintage fabric. I love mixed media in general, and I love fabric even if I will probably never win any prizes for my sewing skills. I'm certain I will always have a pile of fabric in a box. Perhaps someday it will be vintage and I will make a mixed media art piece when I retire to Sebastopol.

We also visited Helen Caswell, a beautiful woman with a precious husband. (How many times have I said beautiful?) I would love to be the new renters on their expansive property. I wish she could be in my family, and in an eerie sense I feel like she is. My grandmother was an artist. She was many other things professionally, but I think had she been born in a different time or circumstance she could have made her life as an artist, as Helen has. Sifting through her prints I was amazed to see just so many portraits; so many faces she's painted over the years. I can't imagine having the ability to distinguish each face and render each one so accurately. Don't tell Descartes, but I bought two small prints. They are not originals of course, but I will love them as if they are.

Our last art stop of the day was Rik Olson. A charming man who manages to create beautiful and witty art in so many ways. He is one of the few masters of wood engraving left. It is painstaking work, and making color prints takes layers of art. Ep and I discussed the idea of thinking backwards and in steps and decided it will not be my next career. Rik also participated in this really cool benefit thing where they made prints using a steamroller.

After breathing in a little bitmore apple-scented air at the Olson studio we went back to downtown Sebastapol and tried Infusions The tea selection is amazing here.

Hmm funny here I am getting tired writing, just about the same time I got tired in real life.

The end of my story is that I enjoyed a really lovely day with some very lovely people and came home to my son sound asleep, my daughter awake for a potty break and my sweet husband tired, but just happy to see me, and not cranky at all about having watched the kids for more than 12 hours (of nearly all awake time). I got to read Lucy a story then pass out asleep on the couch before Descartes nudged me to go downstairs to bed.

Clean car, good friends, interesting art and a happy family. Now that's a pile of luck.

Yeah. I am.

During a dinner of fish sticks, tater tots, baby apples, sliced peaches, petit peas and 1 gallon of ketchup for each child, washed down with a glass of Ovaltine:

Jake: Whoop whoop!

[Jake signs for "more" then eats his last bite and races out to the backyard, still carrying ketchup on his lower lip and milk on his upper.]

Lucy: Mom. Mama you're so lucky.

Me: Really Lucy? Why do you say that?

Lucy: Because you are just so happy. We're all so happy. We're lucky. You're lucky mom.

Me: Well that sounds good to me!

Lucy: BRAVO! BRAVO!

[takes a giant bow]

A is for Apple

Jake ate an apple. Really. All by himself. Not chopped up, not pre-speared on a fork. He ate an apple.  He ate the apple pictured below on the right. 

  

Bite by bite he picked up the apple, took a nibble then set it down on the counter. Then he picked it up again, chose the next bite and took that one too. I started to cry. 

I told him I was really proud of him. Lucy, not really understanding the great accomplishment, but loathe to miss an opportunity to be a part of a good time, ran up and said "Good job. Jake loves apples!" 

Jake has never been able to do this before. Well, if we did let him have his own apple he would eat indiscriminately, core, stem, seeds, whichever. This time I watched him choose the next bite. 

Sorry to be obsessing over this seemingly small task but add it to this little list:

• new skill: Jake can pull the covers over himself as he lies in bed. 
  
• After grabbing the hair of a little girl on the play structure on Thursday (as she raced by him). I said "Jake! LET GO!" and he unclenched his fist, her shiny hair then slid past his palm and it looked more like the hello he was trying for and less like an attack.
• new skill: After being unbuckled, Jake walks off the bus without assistance and grabs my hand at the door.
• Jake tried to tickle his sister tonight after she tickled him. He touched her stomach, instead of a random grab for whatever part he could find. 
• Jake sat and listened to the entire story "The Giving Tree" when I just read it to him tonight.

It has been a pretty rough month...maybe even six weeks. Colds and migraines and general fussiness, and now, once again it feels like we have some small but significant gains in the aftermath. 

I will need to remind myself the next time I am in those dark hours, that this light feels so very good.

Coolness

We had our reading at Book Passage yesterday for Can I Sit With You? (www.canisitwithyou.org).

It was really pretty neat to present our book in the same little nook of Book Passage that hosts celebrities like Anne Lamott, Salman Rushdie, Lewis Black, Carl Hiaasen, Henry Winkler, Barbara Walters, Mario Batali, Brian Copeland, Maria Shriver, Alexander McCall Smith, Leah Garchik, Isabel Allende, John Gray, Amy Tan.. not all of these people are my favorite authors, but they are names most people recognize.. and I stood at the same little podium and talked with Shannon about our book, the impact I hope we are making, and how we managed to do it all for very little money, all the while adding to the coffers of our Special Ed. PTA SEPTAR (www.septar.org)

You know we are doing a second book. We are still accepting submissions until the end of the month. If you have a story that you would like to tell but aren't sure you can write it yourself I would be happy to ghost write it for you. Just send me an email and I will help. We can even use a pseudonym if you don't want your name associated with the story but you think it should be told. C'mon write a story send it to ciswysubmissions@gmail.com it will make you feel better to get it off your chest.

Thanks for all of your support.

Victories

I'll take 'em however I can get 'em

Just went to the grocery store with both of my children. We are all still alive, and it was actually a "real" shopping trip...or at least we filled the cart. I was just telling Squid that while I'm quite certain I paid more than I normally would for some items, I am willing to pay more if it means that I got to take my special needs kid out on an errand that will be a part of his life forever and have it go better than okay. He was happy and jumpy and squealy and smiling. Lucy was begging for ham and bagels. I was able to keep hold of Jake's hand AND get Lucy her raisin bagel. I am calling that success.

I only got one "oh poor you" look, and it was from another mom with a kid in her cart that was "too old" to be there, playing with a small box. Perhaps her look was actually "oh poor you, I have one of those too."

We got help to the car from a young kid who thought Lucy was the most precious kid who ever landed on the planet. And she is precious, but mostly because she finally fell asleep in the car on the way home allowing me to unload the groceries and make dinner for both kids sans drama and "I NEEEEEEEED that Mommy."

Now I just need to get through dinner and bath time.

I can do it.

I can do anything if I can take those two kids to the grocery store.

Time flies...

when you are having as much fun as we've been having. We went to Tahoe last Wednesday night and I am so glad we left for the holiday weekend early. I had Jake's aide at the house keeping the kids busy while we packed the car, Descartes still worked a full day and it only took us 4 hours to get there so we still had an evening with grown ups once we got there.

We went to the beach on the third. Baldwin beach, where we baptized little Lucy (that seems like a hundred years ago...). It was so great to have Jake be happy, happy and comfortable in/near the water and in the sand (since sorting earth has been a recent favorite past time of his). He waded into the lake, smiled a lot and didn't steal any toys from small children (once we gave him his own shovel). Lucy was very excited, and I am proud to say that as much as she really likes her Sugar Plum Fairy ballet costume, she was even more eager to chase the minnows in the lakeside stream. "It tickles!" she exclaimed loudly enough for the minnow to swim away.

It is a personal goal of mine to raise a daughter who is just as comfortable in hiking boots as she is in high heels. I am also hoping she can easily tie a tippet to the leader, tie a bow tie and tie an apron. Somehow right? She can choose who she wants to be, but I want her to learn all the parts so she can know what she is and isn't choosing. Does that make sense? Anywhoo. I was thrilled then when the a couple of days later, Lucy stood there in a little dress calling for me to check out the biggest ant she'd ever seen. That's my girl. No Lucy leave the ant alone he doesn't need to be on your finger...

It was tiring at the beach, the sun, the altitude, ensuring that one of us was with each kid at all times. They can't really be managed by one person right now. Not with water and parking lots and other families. Descartes was able to give Jake some physical space and let him get about 3 yards away. I let him get to about 5 yards at one point. It's hard to give him the space and independence he so desires without putting us too far back should he need us, quickly as he sometimes does. We're trying, and I know he had a really good time. Of course we should have left 5 minutes earlier, which would have been just a few minutes after I said to Descartes, "We should go, it's probably about time for Jake to poop, and I don't want to deal with the swim diaper." Ah. If I could only listen sometimes...perhaps that will be a gift I receive in my 40s. That part of the day sucked with a capital SUCK, but I carry wipes and nitrile gloves and baggies and extra pull ups and clothes and a loving husband who is willing to grab any one of those things, or hold a struggling kid even when I use my highly-directive voice. It worked out just fine.

We went for a bike ride on the Fourth of July. It was pretty much a perfect day. We moved much faster than vehicular traffic that's for darn sure, and the kids had a giggly, napping sort of time. We rented trailers and bikes because we had been too tired to bring our own, but, as it turns out our bike trailer for Jake is actually a lot taller, longer and perfect for him. His head stuck out the rented trailer so he had no sun shade, and with a flick of his foot his toes could just reach Descartes' back tire. Let me tell you how (not) awesome it is to watch your hypotonic child throw his foot over the edge of the bike trailer, have his gigantor size 4 shoe get caught under the bar and have his ankle roll around until his foot popped back out. I was riding behind the boys, with Lucy in my trailer, and I was fairly certain that not only was I going to watch my son's foot fly off, but I was possibly going to run it over, thereby making my life truly a horror story. With fairly constant "reminders" Jake stayed inside the trailer doing wacky things like nearly lying on his back with his feet at the top,tapping his feet on the bar that attaches the trailer to the bike, and occasionally flipping his $60.00 shoes off. The good news is that the ice cream at Camp Rich was cheap. $2.50 for a huge HUGE kid's scoop, and that pretty made much made us forget that it was really scary. We will probably do it again.

Saturday we went to the South Lake Tahoe rec center park which is all gated-in HURRAH! I am so happy that people have figured out that parents feel safe when their kids can't run into the parking lot. It has a terrific play structure and swings and a volleyball court, and picnic tables. Lucy went on the big kid swing for the first time; all by herself with no back-up. I teared-up of course. She never really was a baby, but she is just catapulting past the milestones.

Jake spent a lot of time watching everything, sifting through the bark and sand. It is so hard sometimes to help him engage. I took him up on the play structure (something he does on his own at school)but he got panicky before I could help him on the slide. Perhaps he does have some depth perception issues? He did sit really happily cuddled against me on a park bench for a while. That was crazy. It is so uncommon for Jake to sit and cuddle that Jaster and Demanda stayed back, afraid to interrupt the mood. It made me feel very close to him at just the right moment. I have been missing him lately, all the while spending more time than I normally do with him. How is it possible for me to understand him so intimately, guess so many of his needs, and feel so distant from him.
note to self: I need to make a list of the things I know make Jake happy, things we can do together since it is all too easy to let him go off on his own, scattering pebbles and sifting the bark out of my flower beds.

We had such a nice weekend it was hard to leave, but managed to get it together and head home early Saturday evening. Once again we skipped most of the traffic. Lucy was so tired she whined a lot of the way. Jake just smirked in her direction.