Monday Listicles: 10 Wonderful Things about BIRTHDAYS

I haven't done Stasha’s Monday Listicles in a dog's age. But today's topic is "BIRTHDAYS" and as the boys turn 10 at the end of this week and my (Ahem!) significantly-more-than-that birthday (52nd) is not far behind, I though I'd better participate.

And I want to be fun and light today, as my life so is NOT at this moment... so (conjuring frothy, frothy thoughts from the far recesses of my brain) here is my list of:

TOP 10 WONDERFUL THINGS ABOUT BIRTHDAYS!:

1.  People have to be really nice to you. OR you can make them feel really guilty if they're not. Either way, it's a win. (Wait, did I just say that out loud?)

2.  Birthday cakes. And have I ever told you I make kick-ass ones for my boys? No? See here:

 

3.  Childhood memories - mine. I could tell you about pretty much all the birthdays of my childhood: beach picnics and backyard barbecues, pointy pink party hats and unwrapping beloved barbie dolls. For a few years we found ourselves in Maine with my cousins' family in mid-August, and as Annette's birthday is a scant four days after mine, we would make these marvelous co-celebratory lobster dinners.

Another thing that occurs regularly in mid-August is the Pleiades meteor shower. One night in  Maine, smack in the middle of our birthdays, I remember the grown-ups waking all the kids up and hustling us outdoors in our PJs at midnight, wrapped in quilts and blankets to lie on the ground and look up at the heavens.  I saw the sky above us exploding in light as a seeming million stars streaked across, some appearing to travel all the way down to the cliffs we lay atop, to douse themselves into the ocean that lay just beyond.

4.  Childhood memories - creating them for the kids. Since we live in the city and don't have a yard, backyard barbecues are definitely out. We do, however, live right near a great city park - Riverside Park. And thus for the first seven years of their lives, the boys had wonderful, huge, blowout parties in the park.

This meant we could invite everyone we wanted to, whole families always welcome. And we got incredibly lucky, because summer afternoons in NYC? Often means thunderstorms. But for seven years (7!) in a row, we had good weather on their birthday party days. And then finally for their 8th birthday I had the feeling our luck had run its course, plus the boys were getting big for just running amok or being entertained by a very patient clown.

Boys Birthday Party 2006

So we're now doing events. This year: a movie (Ice Age: Continental Drift) followed by pizza, followed by a behind the scenes tour at our local Rita's Ices (where we have become friends with the manager) and actually getting to help make a batch of Italian ice. And then eating it, of course.

5.  Having a nice quiet dinner alone with my husband. (Stop laughing, we may have actually pulled this off once or twice.)

6.  Having a cousin who paves the way for me. You may have heard me mention this before, but my other cousin, Jessie, the sister to Annette, is nearly exactly my age, having been born four months ahead of me, in April. We were incredibly close as children, and still are in ways I can't begin to describe, even if a month can go by, these currently busy days, without a phone call.

And thus I have always had four months to adjust to whatever age I am about to turn. Having the certain knowledge in the pit of my being that Jess and I are "the same age" as soon as she flips over to the next digit, I feel a part of me doing so in lock-step up as well.

So unlike folks who cling to their previous age until the day before their birthday, fighting the inevitable tooth and claw, I will find myself claiming to be my next age, quite unconsciously, from mid April on. Therefore all the possible trauma about aging has been removed from my actual birthday, and it's just a good excuse to eat and drink well, with people I love. Win-win.

7.  Being a tourist in my own city. For years I had a tradition of celebrating my birthday by doing the kind of fun, touristy things we tend to do only when we have out of town visitors, but doing them instead with a close friend or two, a mate, or by myself if necessary. I've been up to the top of the Empire State Building, out to see the Statue of Liberty, and circled my city on a tour boat.

What stands out the most is my birthday spent up at the top of the World Trade Towers, observing the city and surrounds from the observation deck, followed by lunch at Windows on the World. I had imagined taking my (as yet unconceived) kids there someday. Gone. Gone. Gone.

8.  Recalling, vividly, every year of my kids lives. As birthday time rolls around I always start to marvel again at how big they've grown in just a year, how far they have come in their development, albeit at different paces.  It sends me to the photo album - OK, technically to the virtual one that is the iPhoto program on my computer - to look up birthdays and years past, loving simultaneously the little boys they were and the big boys they have become.

9.  Recalling, vividly, every moment of the day my boys were born. Ethan and Jacob came into this world a scant twelve days shy of my own (42nd) birthday, and therefore I have claimed them as my best birthday present EVER.

At our birthday time, and especially ON their actual birthday I find myself reliving that whole special day; from the incredible anticipation of leaving our home as two, knowing that we would be returning as four, to the first time I laid eyes on my darling boys and my heart instantly tripled in size, to my first sleepless night with their little burrito-bundled bodies in my arms.

(Unless it's also the day of their party that year, when I would find myself running around like an exhausted headless chicken, getting everything and everybody ready for the ensuing fun and mayhem.)

10.   Cake. I know I listed it twice. Because it IS. JUST. THAT. GOOD. Especially homemade. Especially when topped with ice cream.

And there you have it folks. Not a single word about death or autism. For today, at least. Tune in tomorrow...

Monday Listicles: Books! Books! Books!

I haven't participated in Stasha’s Monday Listicles in a loooong loooong time. But this week's topic is near and dear to my heart, so I had to jump in. This week, Stasha herself asked us to write a list about... books.  

That's it: Books! Anything about books.  So... Easy - I love books!

Also? Not so easy - I love books - so I can think of 10,000 things to say about them, how can I narrow that down to ten.

And is this a list of MY favorite books? My kids' favorite books? Books I've really enjoyed, even if they're trashy? Or books I think are IMPORTANT?  Or... or... (Yes, I AM capable of over-complicating anything, thank you.)

In the end? I decided to go with, simply: 10 books that I love. (Even though it is guaranteed that as soon as I hit the publish button on this post I will hit myself upside the head with a "Oy! How could I have left THAT book off the list!) So without further ado:

Varda's List of Ten Books That I Love (or are important to me in some way) in no particular order:

1.  Just Above My Head, by James Baldwin

This last novel of his is, in my opinion, vastly underrated, and one of my favorite novels. It's gloriously shaggy. And it has one of my favorite 1st lines: "The damn'd blood burst..."



 2.  No Place On Earth by Christa Wolf

One that I can guarantee 99.9% of you have never heard of. The first line: "The wicked spoor left in time’s wake as it flees us."

3.  An American Childhood by Annie Dillard

I love Annie Dillard. She is one of my very favorite writers on the planet. I once found hardcover copies of this book on cheap remainder somewhere and bought 5 so I could give them away to friends.

4.  A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula K. Le Guin.
These were favorite books of mine as a child (then a trilogy, now a longer series) and still are wondrous tales. Ursula Le Guin is an amazing writer.

5.  White Noise by Don Delillo

No description really necessary. Much lauded. A wonderful novel. Unfortunately the first Delillo I ever read, and nothing else ever measured up.

6.  Wave Without a Shore by  C.J. Cherryh 

Science Fiction. I love it. And C.J. Cherryh is an amazing writer, one of my favorites. I can't even begin to describe this book, a strange one. But it makes you think and think and think; and that's what science fiction does, at its best. And I just found out that she's a blogger and calls her blog Wave Without A Shore, so this must be one of her favorites too.

And now, some important books written by writers who are all on the autism spectrum. How important these are to me is hard to explain, except to say I read them all when Jacob was young and much less expressive of his thoughts and feelings than he is now, when once I feared I would never catch even a glimpse into his inner life.

Now, he is nowhere near as articulate as these folks - all adults with aspergers and thus not with Jake's specific language processing issues - but still, every day I am moving closer and closer to him. It is wonderful, and deeply appreciated.

But when I read these books, Jake was still so much a cypher to me. Hearing these authors talk about their experiences as autistic children in the confusing and cacophonous world has been invaluable to my early burgeoning understandings of my son: 

7.  Songs of the Gorilla Nation by Dawn Prince-Hughes

This is a beautiful and important book about autism, written by an autist who became a primatologist and began to understand people though gorillas. Incredible writing.

8.  Look Me in the Eye: My Life with Asperger's by John Elder Robison

Wonderful and richly detailed memoir of John Elder Robison's life both before and after his diagnosis of Asperger's. And much of his life takes places in Amherst, my old college town!

9.  Born on a Blue Day by Daniel Tammet

Another wonderful memoir by an autistic author. Daniel is a math savant with major synesthesia who has memorized Pi to an amazing length.

  

10. Thinking in Pictures by Temple Grandin

The mother of all autism memoirs. Temple is probably the most well known autists on the planet, and she is an amazing woman.  I met her once, and remember her asking the person standing next to me if he preferred her to look at or listen to him because she was having trouble doing both.


OK, I'm done - let's call it a night!  What are some of YOUR favorite books?

Monday Listicles: 10 Things I Said I'd Never Do

Another Monday, another Stasha’s Monday Listicles. And today's topic came from... Greta of Not Enough Patience and Never Enough Jewelry. 

She said: So, your topic (should you choose to accept it) is: "I'll Never...": The Top Ten Things You Said You Would NEVER Do And Have Caught Yourself Doing.

I don't know why she thinks parenthood would cause us to frequently eat our words. Oh, wait, I so do.  So here it is:

Ten Things I Said I Would NEVER Do (as a parent) And Have Caught Myself Doing:

#1.  Feed my kids junky "kid food." HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! If you've been reading this blog for any length of time you will know that Ethan rarely eats anything but. He is going to turn INTO an organic hot dog someday, because he eats so many of them. And? He considers the color green in a food to be indicative of it being POISON. At least he eats. I've got a friend whose son hates just about everything, including pizza.

#2.  Make separate meals for everyone, be a short order cook in my own home. I even once said "I will make one family meal and if the kids don't like it they have a choice of a peanut butter sandwich as an alternative or nothing. And once they are old enough they can fix it themselves."  Wow, was that a lifetime ago! I thought things would run so orderly in my house. That was before autism and special diets and THESE particular children landed in my home (and heart). Because letting your (nonexistent) children go hungry in theory? Not at all the same as watching your already too skinny actual child eat nothing and be fine with that.

#3.  Lose my evening time to the kids, every night.  I have a very organized, disciplined friend who had kids long before me. I thought she did a great job with them, and asked for lots of advice, thought I could just copy her parenting tricks and all would go as smoothly in my house. She had told me: "9 PM is when kid-time is over in my house. They can stay up later if they want, but in their rooms and quietly. After 9 PM is grown-up time in the common spaces." What a lovely philosophy. And COMPLETELY impossible in our situation. The boys share a TINY room and Jake crashes at 7, while Ethan can not ever fall asleep before 10, often later.

#4.  Ask my kid the soul-killing question "What is WRONG with you?" OK, I am REALLY not proud that I crossed this line once. It was Ethan (of course) getting on my very last nerve, doing something completely ridiculous over and over and ignoring my request to stop. Something I thought he REALLY knows better, and aught not to do at all. Before we had identified ADD and poor impulse control were just a part of his makeup. Sigh.

#5.  Let my body go to hell. Yes, B.C. (before children) I had looked at a formerly skinny friend of mine who'd had a kid and thought: "Geez, it's been 3 years, shouldn't that gut be gone by now?" HA! It's been over NINE years now that I have been resembling a Weeble, with no end in sight.

#6.  Yell.  HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! (Wiping the tears from my eyes and picking myself up off the floor from laughing so hard.)

#7.  Let my kids watch too much TV. This is a REALLY hard one. I HATE how much the TV is on, in our home. It goes against everything I believe in, how the kids should be doing REAL things, engaged in the world and with other people. However, with this particular set of kids? "Engaged" with each other? 99% of the time that means fighting. Yelling, screaming, hurting each other. It's the autism. And it sucks. But they will both sit peacefully together in the living room if the TV is on. And sometimes (OK, a lot of the time) I really, really need peaceful.

#8.  Completely lose touch with the culture that I love - movies, theater, art, music, avant-garde performance. When I was a young woman in New York City's Off-Off Broadway, Performance Art, and Independent Cinema world, I had older friends with kids who brought them along to all sorts of unusual and avant-garde events and I thought: "Yes, that's how I'm going to parent! No Disney dreck, "kid-culture" drivel for my offspring! I will open and expand their minds at a young age." HA HA HA! I wasn't counting on autism rendering one of my kids perpetually much less mature than his biological age. Nor his brother's insistence that all this culture stuff is BORING. Sigh. I haven't been to an art opening in 9 years.

#9.  Tell my kid: "I'm cold, you need to put on a sweater." Yup. Well, I did expand on that and add: "and it's really, really cold out and I know you don't feel cold yet, but you will soon, and I don't want you to catch a chill." And it WAS really, really cold out! But still...

#10.  Spit on a napkin and wipe my kid's face with it. Well, in my defense, his face was REALLY, really dirty! (Hangs head in shame.)

aaaand that's all folks! What's on YOUR list of backpedaling?


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Monday Listicles: 10 Things I Have Done to Make a Living

Well, it's Monday, so it must be time for Stasha’s Monday Listicles again. And today's topic came from... ME!

And, it seems, I'm being late to my own party. (And not for the first time, I must admit.) You would think with my having known the topic for, oh, two weeks, I would have had this post written long ago and ready to pop up at one minute past midnight, be at the top of the link-up over at Stasha's.

Well, think again.

It's been a rough beginning to the new year is all I can say. And my ADD is acting up something fierce. So anyway, it's still Monday here (barely) and will be for a few more hours in at least some parts of the world, so let's proceed shall we?

Today's topic (as chosen by moi) is:

Top Ten Strange (odd/unusual/funny/interesting) Jobs you have held in your life.

#1.  Well, to start with, when I was a baby my father was an advertising photographer and sometimes he needed a baby for a shoot or for his portfolio. So, for a very short time, I was a baby model. He also was a fine art/documentary "street photographer" (with work in Life magazine, etc.) and took loads of pictures of me for that, too.  Wanna see?

Jim Steinhardt: "Girl with Balloon (ME!) at Central Park Zoo" 1963

#2. Then my Dad realized he hated advertising and got out of that business, bought an art gallery and frame shop on Long Island and it grew into an international and American crafts gallery of some renown. And I grew up in the family business, spending Saturdays and many of my summer days at the gallery.

I couldn't even tell you exactly when playing there became working there, but I distinctly remember setting up and helping to serve drinks at show openings from about the age of six on. And I know that from the time I was twelve I was selling in the store and working as a buyers assistant, accompanying my parents to big national craft fairs like Rhinebeck and the wholesale showrooms in the city.

Holiday time was always busy, and as a teenager I worked full long days every Saturday in November and December, and then when the "blue laws" were repealed (yes, I'm old enough to have lived when NO businesses outside of restaurants were open on Sundays) Sundays in December, too.

When I was 15, I ran the gift wrap "department" (me & a friend of mine) on the weekends for the holiday season. To this day I can eyeball any unusually sized or shaped object, instantly figure out what size box it will or won't fit in, and wrap it neatly with nice ribbon bows to boot.

My most memorable sales interaction with a customer? It was the day before Christmas, when the desperate men who hadn't a clue would arrive, and you could sell them practically anything. He was buying jewelry. Three nice pieces. One for his wife, and one each for his two "girlfriends." He wanted to spend about the same for each. Wrote lovey notes on gift cards to be included inside the boxes. Had us put a little code on the bottom of the wrapped boxes so he could know which was which.

How much did we want to "accidentally" mess up the code for him? The whole staff was abuzz with wicked plans to do this while his gifts were being wrapped. In the end of course, we didn't. A customer is a customer, and he was a good spender. (Times 3!) But we talked about him for years to come.

#3. Away at college, through friends I fell into a summer job as a founding member of the Sunflour Bakery Collective in Bar Harbor, Maine. Of course, first I had to learn how to bake bread, which I did in a hurry that spring.

This was not a typical "job." We all lived together, communally on the uppermost floor of the building which was not in any way set up or zoned for habitation, while the landlord conveniently looked the other way. We each made little nests for ourselves using odd materials found on the second floor of the building, in what had been a woodworking shop at one point. My "chair" was an ornate antique toilet stuffed with my sleeping bag to make a cushion.

We often took in like-minded (i.e. hippie) folks who were passing through town and let then "camp out" on the second floor and share meals with us for a few hours of work in the bakery.  It was all very whole grain and natural (naturally), and actually quite delicious. I think I ate better that summer that at any time in my life before or since.

#4. The following year, I spent my summer in Cambridge / Boston with a combination of 2 jobs to keep me afloat: showing up at 5 AM on the weekends to be the breakfast chef at the very vegan Golden Temple Emporium Cafe (yes, run by people with big white turbans on their heads). Can you say "scrambled tofu" anyone?

That was combined with my weekday job of slinging the greasiest of burgers and fries (while wearing hot pants!) to a lunch crowd of finance guys at The Saint, which happened to also be the local lesbian bar at night, which I frequented... frequently. And the irony of all this was not lost on me, I laughed about it constantly.

#5. Then I landed in California for a few years. You may have heard me mention this one before, but yes, in 1981 I actually WAS a Bean Sprout farmer in the wilds of Mendocino county.

We were a womens collective on 160 acres on a ridge with a number of odd buildings on the flat land at the top, and among them 3 geodesic domes. One of these was given over to the business of hydroponically growing bean sprouts that were sold to restaurants and in health food stores in Northern California.

My tasks included washing the sprouts daily, cutting them when they were the right length, bagging them, and assembling the "mixed sprout" salads. Also driving up & down the coast for delivery. And yes, we had to remember to put shirts on when driving off the property.

Looking back, I don't think we had a license and can't ever remember a health inspection. But those were different, looser, freer times. And I don't THINK we ever gave anyone salmonella poisoning.

#6. Also in California, now living more conventionally in Santa Cruz, I became the assistant manager of the Polar Bear ice cream shop in Capitola. And my right (scooping) arm became twice as strong as my left. I was living with a woman who had a 6 year old daughter who was THRILLED to be able to come in and order anything she wanted for free.

And no, I wasn't stealing. The owners wisely gave us a monthly allotment of free ice cream, which kept us all honest about what we ate or took home or gave away. And made us very popular with our friends.

#7. Back on the East coast and back in college, I found occasional work as an artists model. Yes, nude. And people this is HARD work. Holding a pose that seems just dandy at 2 minutes will feel like torture by minute 10 with your muscles screaming for release. And, totally exposed, if you twitch, they will see. And yell at you to keep steady.

#8. My main job while in college was at the local pottery gallery (using my family business talents at last) but on the summers, to not lose me during them, the gallery owners - who were 3 potters themselves - had me come out to their studio to do odd jobs for the seven potters who worked there and shared kilns.

I was not a potter, and it quickly became clear that my natural talents did not lie in this direction, but everyone found things for me to do to help out that did not require actual potting, including wedging clay (great anger release), packing orders for shipping (I still have nightmares about plastic peanuts), and, most terrifyingly, carrying precious fragile pieces to and from the gas kiln which was outdoors, out back, DOWN a little hill. No, I never dropped anything, but did have daily palpitations, thank you.

#9. 1988. Out of school and back in New York City, while working my way into jobs in the film and television industry and also directing and stage managing plays and performance art off-off Broadway, I landed a regular gig with the brand spanking new World Financial Center as an assistant stage manager for their arts and events program, including a month of opening galas.

As I was a bit more mature and put together than a lot of the kids they had working for them, I was usually assigned to babysit the talent, including escorting them to the "stage," which was always rigged in different places and often far, far from the holding areas.

This also meant that I would be seen in the "front of the house" and had to work evening events in formal wear and heels. On miles of marble floors. (Ouch!) Highlights included: a frantic search for one of the coconuts of Kid Creole & the Coconuts who had decided to go look for a friend in the audience, minutes before their call and watching Grace Jones go into makeup and be transformed into... Grace Jones.

Best of all was escorting Cab Calloway up onto the stage itself because he was rather elderly and unsteady on his feet and the steps didn't have a handrail.

This was also the first time I was given a newfangled "cell phone" thingy - about 8 pounds of equipment with a handset connected to a rectangular box that hung from a shoulder strap - this was 1988, people!

1988 Cell Phone. Really.

#10. Fast forward many, many years (see the calendar pages whirl by) and come to my current occupation: Autism Mom. I am an amateur neurobiologist, behaviorist, teacher, translator, pharmacologist, allergist, gluten & casein-free chef, and deep hug giver. In my 9th year of an ongoing experiment in radical sleep deprivation.

Definitely the strangest "job" I have ever had. But the most fulfilling. Worth every minute of it.

And, believe it or not, (believe!) I could go on and on. But I'll stop here at ten.

See y'all next week!


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Monday Listicles: Impossible New Years Resolutions

Well, it's time for Stasha’s first Monday Listicles of the new year, which is reflected in the theme... Today's topic came from Theresa, the Mountain Momma, who said we should write a list of ten New Years resolutions we will never keep. Softball, I tell ya; could do this one in my sleep (and I kind of did).

You can probably guess what these are all going to be. But I will go ahead and spell them out for you anyway. And in an annotated list, because simple & easy are just not in my vocabulary. And then at the end a wee surprise for you. So...

10 New Years Resolutions I Will NEVER Keep:

1. Stop Procrastinating. Also probably nearly every other resolution on this list would be moot if I could keep to this one. Chance of that happening? The proverbial snowball in hell. I am ADD-rific, remember?

2. Exercise more. Well, I better say exercise regularly. Because I am likely to exercise at least a tiny bit this year, and that would mean I would be keeping this resolution... since ANYTHING is more than the absolute nothing I did this past year.

3. Stop eating sugar. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

4. Get to bed early & get enough sleep. OK folks, I have two sons and one is a natural early-to-bed-early-riser, while the other is a classic night owl (like me & their father). The early riser catches a 6:40 school bus, which means I am up at 5:45 on school days, while the other one doesn't have to walk out the door until much later, can roll out of bed at 7:30, so often stays up until 10pm. Can you do math and see how impossible this resolution is? Yes, doomed before I even start.

5. Get off  the computer when the kids are home. I'm going to really TRY to keep this one. Because I really don't want my son to declare once again: "Mom, you love the internet more than you love us!" But? Realistically? Too addicted to my blog and FaceBook and Twitter and other people's blogs to keep it. I WILL cut down though, and only when they are on their screens, too.

6. Cook more. I make this resolution every year and never keep it. The fact that there are so many limits to what Ethan WILL eat and to what Jacob CAN eat, and all of the above is mostly what Dan and I do not WANT to eat... means cooking = making 3 separate meals. Not happening. Someday... someday... but that day will not likely fall into this year.

7. No more dinners in front of the TV. Sigh. I wish I could say this one was do-able. I grew up with lively dinner table discussions, truly enjoyable conversations with my parents, nearly every night.  But the way Jacob's autism manifests is that if the TV isn't on? He will talk non-stop loudly about his own topics and ask the same questions over and over and over again, making dinner table conversation nearly impossible. So the TV goes on and the boys eat separately from my husband and I (who rarely eat together on weeknights anyway).

8. Keep the house clean and tidy. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

9. Keep my car clean and tidy. See above.

10. NOT pick up my iPhone when I am interacting with actual human beings, even when my "new stuff" alerts ding. Wow, when did I become one of those rude people looking at the screen in my hand instead of the people at the table I am sitting and drinking coffee with? (Answer: when I got my first smart phone.) Will try hard to keep this partially, only picking it up for important DMs from people I am waiting to hear from. Wish me luck!

@@@@@@@

And now, here's the surprise: I get to be responsible for next week's Monday Listicles theme!

As I have lately been obsessed with plans for getting back into the working game this year and trying to figure out how I can morph all the skills I've acquired in all my old career(s) and jobs into something I can currently earn a living at, I have been thinking of all the many odd and various jobs I have held and skills I've amassed in my long life. And I thought it would be fun to make you all do that too.

So Next Monday's Listicle topic is: Top Ten Strange (odd/unusual/funny/interesting) Jobs you have held in your life.

And if you are young or have had a much less varied life than I have and haven't had 10 jobs yet, then make it 10 interesting things you have done / tasks you have been responsible for as PART of a job.  And I am totally willing to define "Job" loosely here... as in parenting is clearly a job, and so is being a student, or volunteer positions including things like PTA President.

I can't wait to see what you come up with! See y'all next week!


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Monday Listicles: 2011 Firsts

Well, it's time for the last of Stasha’s Monday Listicles for the year, so fittingly it's a year's end theme. Today's topic came from Bridget at Twinisms: 

Top Ten things we've done for the FIRST time in 2011.

Hmmm I'm pretty old so there's not a lot of "firsts" left for me, but I'm sure I can come up with something... or rather, 10 things, right?

1. Well I started out the year with a first. In December 2010 my gall bladder went rogue, so on January 5th, 2011 I had it removed. And that was the first non-pregnancy related surgery of my life; the first time I have been separated from any of the original parts my body came with.

2. I had my first triple-month-skip: getting only one period from August through the year's end so I am clearly moving into the endgame of my shift from peri- into full blown menopause.

3. I began better living through chemistry and went on anti-depressant medication for the first time in my life to deal with the on and off depression brought about by wonky biochemistry from the above 2 items.

4. OK, I'm hating to sound like too much of a downer here, wracking brain to come up with a cheerful & happy first... how's this: Jake & Ethan both went to sleep-away camps (for the first time!) for about a week this summer, at partially overlapping times, so Dan & I had the apartment to ourselves for 4 whole nights for the first time since the boys were born. We're talking 9 years here people! We were spontaneously going out at night without the babysitter tax, we were sleeping naked, we were sleeping in, we were... well I'm not telling you about THAT.

5. Related to #4 above: I drove through a hurricane for the first time in my life. Well it wasn't quite a hurricane yet, but rather the leading edge of one, and believe me that was enough. What happened was that Jake's camp in Massachusetts was directly in the projected path of Hurricane Irene. I had just picked up Ethan at his Pennsylvania camp & spent the night with friends there. So instead of bringing him home and having a night's rest before heading up to pick up Jake, Ethan & I drove through the outer bands of the storm to get him and then the 3 of us high-tailed it home like bats out of hell, racing the full-on storm, trying to make it into Manhattan before the bridges & tunnels got closed down (which never actually happened but there were rumors of its certainty). And that kind of excitement? Happy to have my first also be my last.

6. I finally started to write from memes and prompts and ended up going to surprising and wonderful places in my writing and blog.

7. As related to #6 above, I wrote FICTION for the first time in... oh, about 25 years. It came out of the blue as I was mulling over a prompt. And I really enjoyed having strange people talking away inside my head, even when they were yelling at me.

8. When I went out to San Diego for BlogHer11, I spent 4 nights away from my husband and kids for the first time since the twins were born. It was glorious. And may I confess? Until the last day... I barely missed them at all. Having 4 days in a row in which my time was all about ME was simply amazing after 9 years of full time, day-in & day-out care taking of young and old people.

9. Due to the lovely synergy between menopausal metabolism changes and stress eating (have I mentioned it's been a fairly shit year overall?) I topped 180 for the first time in my life, non-pregnant. Oops. Really need to do something about THAT in 2012.

10. I wrote my first "Top Ten" list post. Something I swore I'd never do. And I liked it, I really liked it. Stasha, you've created a monster... I can't stop. Lists, lists, lists, I love lists now!!!

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Monday Listicles: Inside my Brain

 
Yes, I know today is Tuesday. But since I fell asleep on the sofa (upright and lightly drooling, yes) before I could finish my Sunday evening post and had to put it up on Monday, this one has had to move on down the line. Welcome to my life.

I guess that could be another YouMightBeAnAutismParentIf tweet: "#YouMightBeAnAutismParentIf you put up all your blog posts a day late so it's SOC Sundays on Monday and Monday Listicles on Tuesday" (And Wordless Wednesdays on Thursday and Alphabe-Thursdays on Friday and Special Needs Sibling Saturdays on Sunday... and yes I've been guilty of ALL of these late postings!)

Anyway, I'm posting this just after midnight, on American East Coast time, which means it's certainly still Monday somewhere... California, for example. So, on a technicality, I'm not REALLY late.

OK, enough meta-jabber. I rest my case. On to the actual post...

This week’s Listicle assignment (from Bridget of Twinisms via Stasha at The Good Life) is based on the show "Inside The Actor’s Studio With James Lipton."

You’ve seen this program, yes? Every celebrity interview ends with the same 10 questions, which I will attempt to answer, now:

1. What is your favorite word?
You're kidding right? ONE favorite word? Ain't gonna happen from wordy, word-loving me. Like I tell my kids: I don't have just one favorite. (And yeah, I'm gonna start this list being all contrary, oppositional and rule-bashing again. Wanna make something of it?) But on my short list, you'd find: smorgasbord, chartreuse, ungepatchket, and fractious.

2. What is your least favorite word?
Retard or Retarded. And if you don't know why I hate this, the "R-word," you're probably at the wrong blog, here by accident. If you want a refresher, read my friend Ellen's posts all about it. Start with this one: If you ask people not to use the word "retard" then plug in the R-word into her search box and read everything that comes up.  

3. What turns you on?
Intelligence, humor, kindness.

4. What turns you off? 
Willful ignorance and cold-heartedness. Also black socks and white sneakers with Bermuda shorts.

5. What sound do you love?
An ocean beach. Also? Truthfully? My own voice. (Hangs head.)

6. What sound do you hate?
Metal scraping on metal. If you use a metal fork to eat out of a metal bowl I will be forced to make you stop by any and all means necessary. It's like nails on a chalkboard to me. Also, not coincidentally, nails on a chalkboard.

7. What is your favorite curse word?
Really, it's a toss up between motherfucker and bullshit. I guess I like compound words. Ethan is studying them in school right now. But never fear, I'm not going to suggest THESE for his "Write 10 juicy sentences using compound words" assignment.

8. What profession other than yours would you like to attempt? 
Brain surgeon. *Kidding!* But seriously, neuroscience interests me greatly, the biology of how we think and feel. I could have gone into medicine, have a great affinity for it. In other words, my mother was right - I shoulda been a doctor!

9. What profession would you not like to do?
The thought of accountancy fills me with dread. And I like numbers. I just hate paperwork.

10. If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?
A variation of what my husband quipped when first we met: "Oh, sorry, I got you confused with (renowned French filmmaker) Agnès Varda... Your number's not up yet, back you go!"


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Monday Listicles: 10 Photos

This week's Monday Listicles assignment seemed EASY: 10 favorite photos. Piece of cake, I thought. Simple. (But with me, of course, nothing ever is, dip below the surface I must, EVERY. freaking. time.)

Because for me "Photos" brings up my late father, the photographer. Heavy. And also I have such a hard time with the concept "favorite"... favorite for content? For aesthetics? And what if there is one more favored photo of one child than another? That just cannot be. My head spins.

So I have made a decision to STOP the torture (you're welcome) and state unequivocally that these are NOT my all time 10 favorite photos. They are merely 10 that I like a lot and that happened to conveniently and handily reside in my blog's web album or my iPhoto library.

Because I REALLY want to get to bed before midnight tonight, dammit!

So, in NO particular order (oh, this is killing me, but I will be strong and not over-think - for ONCE in my life!) 10 photos that I really like:

My Dad, Jim Steinhardt, around 20

1. My Dad as a young man. Yes, this is also in my sidebar. Here it is again. I really DO love this photo, as I never knew this young man. He was 43 when I was born, already bearded and balding.

My Mom, Sylvia Heimer Steinhardt, around 20

2. My Mother, likewise uncannily (to me) young.

July 29, 2002

3. Me, deliriously happy, holding Ethan on the day my twin boys were born. (Also just plain delirious on morphine for my c-section pain.)

The boys' first big snow day, January 2003

4. Me, Danny & the boys, out enjoying their first big snowfall. They were about 6 months old, and we were near zombies from sleep deprivation. But happy zombies, clearly.

"Mother & Child" 1960, by Jim Steinhardt

5. Yes, of course that's my beautiful raven haired mother and me. I think I'm about 3 months old here. Mom is 38. Still gorgeous, of course.

A bunch of Heimers, Ellis Island, 1920-ish

6. I love this photo of some of my mother's relatives, LITERALLY just off the boat, coming to America. This is two of her father's sisters, a brother, and their father, my mother's grandfather whose name she never knew, she just called him "Zayde" (Yiddish for grandpa).

Jim Steinhardt, 1961 by Bruce Steinhardt

7. This is the most amazing photo my father, taken by my brother who was 19 at the time. I believe it was taken in my father's photo studio. This is how he looks in my earliest memories.

Spanish-American Barber Shop, NYC, 1948 by Jim Steinhardt

8. A photo of my father's. Not one of his more famous or iconic ones, but one of my favorites. I couldn't tell you why. I have a print of this one hanging in my apartment. If you look closely you can see my father, fuzzily, in the mirror, taking the shot.

Lake Champlain, Burlington Vt. 2005

9. I love this picture of 3 year-old Jake by the lake. For a while we went to Vermont every summer to see my cousin Jess and her family. We haven't been in 2 years and I miss those visits terribly

Me at BlogHer11

10. And, just because all these photos have all been sooooooooo meaningful, I thought I would go from the sublime to the ridiculous for my last photo here. Have a laugh. Because this caught my eye as I was scrolling through my options in the "upload" window.

This was taken this summer at the BlogHer11 conference, in the Temple of Swag (I think the official name was the Exposition Hall). At the time Ethan was expressing his utter disdain for all things Bieber, and I took this photo with the JB cutout just to yank his chain.

But then this AMAZING thing happened just last weekend with Anna See (the blogger who lost her son in a tragic accident this fall) involving her surviving daughter getting to meet Justin Bieber on an all expense paid trip to to the AMA awards in LA.

So it is not a completely ridiculous photo after all, but rather, suddenly holds major significance. Reminding me that this big star took time out to meet a little girl grieving for her beloved brother, whose one big wish was to meet the Biebster.

So there it is. 10. Done. And it ain't even midnight yet. (Only 11:30) So, goodnight!



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Monday Listicles: The boat that has sailed

Last week I so enjoyed making my list of why I don’t do list posts, that I decided this week it would be a hoot to participate in Stasha’s Monday Listicles thingie. But if I was looking for a lighthearted post?  Um, wow, did I pick the wrong week to start.

Because for me? This week's list is SO not light and fun, but rather fraught with sadness and regrets and tension and worry about all that is not quite right with my family.

The list: 10 reasons why you do or do not want more children!

I struggle often with the feeling that I really should have had more kids. But that boat has sailed.

So I am splitting this list. Some reasons I wish we could have had more kids and some reasons we are definitively not having them. (And yeah I can never do things the simple way, have to put my own twist on them. My contrarian nature rearing its head again.)

First, the reasons we are not having more kids:

1. We are too old. Specifically ME. (Biology’s a bitch and really not fair - guys can still have kids at 70. Not that they SHOULD, but they CAN.) I am 51. Deep in peri-menopause. My period visits occasionally, but mostly just to wave goodbye and thumb its nose at me.  

2. We are too old. It’s not just the biology. We are even too old to adopt. Chasing after a toddler right now? Would probably do me in. And my husband is yet 7 years older than I. Too, too old.

3. Autism. Once you have one the chances of having another increase greatly. Also with parental age. And while having had another typical child would have likely been a boon to the family, another autistic one might well have torn us apart. (Note to my friends with more than one autistic kid: I know you have wonderful families and love all your kids immeasurably. I also know it's tough. I'm just talking about my hopes/fears here.)

4. Money, money, money. We live in a small apartment, barely enough room for the four of us, absolutely not enough room to add another in. About the time I was getting ready to go back to work, we realized Jake was on a different path, and I abandoned my career to become a full time Autism Mom. Money? Is really tight around here.

5. Not just money, but also temperament. While I really would have had 1 or 2 more kids if I could have, my husband, while he loves our sons to pieces? Is just not a kid person. Have a couple of extra kids over on a play-date and his left eye starts twitching. In hell? His job would be kindergarten teacher.

6. We are too old. (Just in case you thought I might be wavering on that one.)

And now, from the department of sad regrets department, why I wish I could have had more kids:

7. I love kids, love being a mom. When the boys were little and they were climbing all over me on the floor I would be laughing away, and my husband would joke that I really had to loosen up and learn to enjoy motherhood more.

8. Amortizing my expertise. I had no idea what I was doing when I had kids & had to figure it all out under the pressure of twins. Just as I would become really good at whatever stage in their development the boys were at, they would move on to the next. If I'd had more kids I could have had some of that "more relaxed because it's old hat the 2nd (3rd, 4th) time around" parenting all my friends with lots of kids talk about.

9. Our family dynamic, with the autism thing? Could really use more kids. Jake really needs a younger sibling to love him unconditionally, look up to him. His dear friends are all 3 and 4 year-olds right now. He loves babies. It would have been great if he'd had one of his own.

10. Ethan could really use a typical brother or sister. Another sibling who is NOT his autistic twin. Someone to play with. And someone to share the burden of caring for his brother when my husband and I are gone, if Jake should still need that.

@@@@@@@

So, in an ideal world I would have started younger and had more than 2. Then again, in that world I would also be about 40 pounds lighter, have listened to my mother & become a doctor, and bought Apple stock when it was $5 a share.

But we don’t live in that world, we live in this one, and this is the family I have. And I do so love my boys and our family, just as it is.

So no, we’re not having more kids.

Unless we literally win the lottery, and then with $32 million or so in our pockets?  I’d think about adopting a baby girl or two. (Don't worry honey, highly unlikely. HIGHLY unlikely.)



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