Same garbage (truck) different day...

~"Worry is interest paid on trouble before it comes due."~William Ralph Inge

       

  Now and then I worry...well probably more than that.. Alright-I obsessively worry-about my kids futures.and my chickens and cats..the mortgage..insurance..my..*sigh* garbage company-I am not kidding!  I admit that I am a champion worrier-the queen of fretting-the empress of uncertainty!..if only there were awards or monetary compensation for it-I'd be buried under piles of trophies and money..But, as that isn't the case..  

 We have had the same garbage removal company for nine years. Very slowly-but surely-their price for garbage removal has gone up.  So much so that I was either going to have to sell a body part to pay for it-or move into our dumpster as a way of consolidating living costs. So, I did the responsible adult thing and researched other trash removal companies.  That's smart-right?  I even found one that offered twice the removal for half of what I was paying now. Two for less than the cost of one! You would think it would be a no brainer..that of course I would cancel my current service and hire the other company. I thought so too...until I spoke to my account manager..I spoke to him-exchanged words..and more...Which brings me to my other problem.  Sometimes...I talk too much.  It's not that I want to!  No, it's more like I am compelled-driven! You have to understand, I have worked in customer service.  I know what it is like to be on the receiving end of a complaint.

 More than once I have endured the wrath of someone who felt wronged, persecuted even!- because they were served the wrong salad dressing
("I asked for FAT FREE ranch and this has fat in it!" "I am so sorry..I'll fix that for you right away!" " I can't believe you did that!" "I promise it was an honest mistake."  "Uh huh.")
Or their unlimited fries had *GASP* run out!  Oh the humanity!. "The menu clearly states that the fries are bottomless!" "Yes they are." "Well..why did we run out?" "I'm sorry, it has been a busy night-I will refill your basket now." "Well, I can not believe that I had to sit and WAIT-WAIT for them to be filled up! "I will have a mass said in your name." "What?!" "I'll be right back.."


 So I feel this strange sort of solidarity with wait staff, cashiers and faceless telephone clerks. I need them to know that I am on their side!  That I understand that whatever problem that I have is not personally their fault...But then, it gets personal anyway...

"Hi Ms. Leopold, I understand you are thinking of leaving us."

"Hi Mr. Smith..yes, I'm sorry but you are just too expensive."

"Let me look at your account..oh..wow-your rate has gone up."

"I know! I found another company that will do twice the pickups for half your cost- for one!"

"Really?..Wow..that's stiff competition...let me see what I can do here..we really hate to lose long term customers like you"

"You guys are great-really!  I love our pick up driver-he's always so nice about avoiding my chickens..and waiting for me to move the cars and the kids stuff before he pulls in.."

"Oh I know about moving your kids stuff (chuckle)"

"Really?  How many kids do you have?"

  And we're off!.. and before you know it, we are on a first name basis...and a conversation that should have taken ten minutes has stretched out to over two hours. We have shared our thoughts on politics, religion, kids. I know that he needs a new roof (I of course gave him suggestions) that he's on his second marriage, what his kids do, where he eats lunch and what he plans on doing next weekend.  We even exchanged recipes! (His cheeseburger meatloaf dish was a hit with two of the kids-and Omar)  It's madness!  It happens far too much. We have had contractors in and out (mostly in) our house for nine years! It isn't because of the amount of work-No!  It's because we start talking...The other morning, Omar asked where our current one was.."Well," I said.."He had a busy weekend..he had to take his daughter up to school..I think that he has an appointment this morning...did you know that...blah blah blah.." Omar just laughs..""Of course you know that-of course you do."  He doesn't mind-he finds it humorous."Only you" he says as he kisses me and leaves for work..I choose to take that as the compliment that I am sure that he meant it as.

I do not know how to fix it-this customer service worry.  I do know that I have met some very interesting people along the way. I've even gotten some good recipes!  I just can't see myself doing things any other way.  The problem is..well, that nothing really ever gets resolved-not fully..  Sure, I have made a new friend in my garbage company- but it's the same garbage company that I have had for nine years.  Yes, my cost has gone down...but it is still five dollars higher than the other company's price.   What the hell?  

I am going to "try" and switch my cable service this week. I am really hoping for an automated system. Otherwise-who knows what I'll end up with-besides perhaps some new recipes...

The very bumpy road to quiet...

   

~"Trouble..oh, trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble..Feels like every time I get back on my feet, she comes around and knock me down again.."~ Ray Lamontagne

 I think that this, in many ways has been our hardest year yet. Holy crap-it has just been one thing after another-and I am starting to feel a little bit
    pessimistic...loopy..out of my head...strained if you will.. It feels like we have been living under a ginormous cloud of doom and damnation. Really, there is no other apt description.  Times like this...well, honestly, there haven't been any other times like this...But, in difficult situations, I try and evaluate things..try and figure out what exactly the universe is screaming telling us.What can we change?  What can we do differently-or better? What can I find that is positive..I look hard for the positive..I do..really!

  Back in June, when Omar lost his job..we thought.."HOLY CRAP! OH NO! WTF ARE WE GOING TO DO?!  Gosh! Lets look at this as an opportunity!" We had known for a while that he had wanted to do something else..that change might be a good thing.  We had thought about it a lot.  But- thinking isn't doing.  His job had paid very well..and we were comfortable with that.  We reasoned that his job loss was the universe giving us the kick forward that we needed-making us change things. I mean really, there is nothing quite like losing your job, your benefits, and your stock options to make one reassess their situation!  ...So, change we did-or so we imagined...Omar, after careful deliberation, took a job offer. It was a step away from what he had been doing. It was the same line of work-only different..and we had thought-better. In some ways it has been. In others?  Lets just say it has been crazy nonsensical an *cough* adventure..oh what a time we have had! AND  here we are..*gulp* once again thinking "Something HAS to freaking change!

  I'm starting to think that maybe it's me.  Maybe I'm the one the universe is yelling at.  Maybe I'm the one who should be looking to change how I have been doing things..The problem is-what do I do?

  My dad, in loving moments-used to look at me and say "Kid? You have no skills." He was right!  I don't! Really and truly-I have absolutely no marketable skills. I have a degree in theater for goodness sake! While I do consider myself to have been quite good (it's been a few years since I've performed) I don't see a profitable future in monologues...or in dressing up as giant costumed characters-at least not in Maine. Some people have suggested that I write a book. Which is a lovely ego boost (I must admit)....and, I have had a few stories published-for actual money..But honestly? What in the world would I write an entire book about?  Autism? Ick-don't we already have enough of those? "A mother struggles (with great depth and emotion-none of which I have) to understand..a child-who, against all odds- succeeds..they walk off (lots of tears streaming down the mothers face) into the sunset" Blechhh... As for my life...sadly, it just isn't that interesting.  Don't get me wrong!  My life is quite wonderful..but-To write a book-you need to be fascinating-quirky..to have struggles and a dark history or a sordid past..disease helps.  Me?  I've got nothing...I can just imagine the title "Mediocre-a mothers quest to vacuum the living room"..or "Laundry-a mothers journey towards folding and putting away." You couldn't even make a Lifetime movie out of it...which is what happens to all books of that variety..Can you understand my predicament?  I'm just not all that interesting!

 So... I've been looking at other options. I don't want to go back to school..I'm going to be fifty this year, and am pretty much as "higher educated" as I am going to be. Besides, I just don't have the attention span to sit through classes..Although...I have received a couple of (unsolicited) offers for job training that have spurred my interest.  I must admit that I am kind of intrigued by the  "Train at home to be a funeral director" catalog.  Yes, there is a  part of me that wants to look into that.  How does one train at home? The pamphlet says that they supply textbooks(Somber 101?) and..learning aids...Learning aids? What could they possibly be? Can you mail a cadaver...or do you have to supply your own? More importantly, after finishing the course-can you work from home?

  We are finally finally finally at the beginning of the end of a very long, very cold, very stressful winter. I would really like it if things would calm down for a bit. Give us a moment to catch our breath..check in on my kids (who, really need so much more of my attention than I have been giving them)..maybe hang out with my chickens...drink some coffee...stare out the window. I would really enjoy a few weeks of unfettered life...A little peace, a lot of calm...and a whole bunch of quiet. Oh..peace and quiet..what a joy that would be! But how do I get that?....Hmmmm.... Maybe funeral directing wouldn't be such a bad choice after all..I might even be able to write a book about it."Kathleen Leopold-Funeral Director".or-"A woman and her corpse".."A mothers adventure in embalming?"..The possibilities are endless.....

The world outside our home...

~"Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away."~

 George Eliot

This post deals with mortality- just giving fair warning.

I was thinking about a conversations that I had ( years ago on another blog) on a post about stimming.  The blogger had written about her worry over peoples reaction to her sons stimming.  I said "My Oscar stims all the time..but he's so damn charming that it disarms people...maybe that will go towards changing how the world looks at these things.." Another person chimed in with "Sure, he's cute and charming NOW-but wait until he's an adult and people are scared of him..you can't change the world!!-It's pointless to try!..." I didn't bother responding to that....Although, I remember thinking "Wow-she's bitter..and not very nice". I was talking about my Oscar! My funny boy!  How could he ever NOT be charming and wonderful? How could anyone ever look at him-at his stimming and be scared?  He was four at the time.

In a few short months, Oscar will be thirteen.  Something that he likes to remind me about whenever he wants to DO something..like watch R rated movies or walk in to town by himself.  It is also something he conveniently forgets when I ask him to DO something like homework..or clean his room.  It has been nine years since I posted that comment..nine years and still that little snippet of blog conversation lives a full life in the back of my brain...occasionally worming its way to the bright lights and center stage of my thoughts.  Nine years later and I realize that the woman who I thought was bitter-was probably in reality-just really scared. I can recognize that now that (some of) my kids are on the verge of young adulthood-I can understand it too.

  We have tried to raise all of our kids to be confident in who they are. Teaching them that being kind and decent were the most important things. Stimming, eeeeing...pacing and muttering were just some of the things that made them-them. That being different was fine-great even..wonderful...spectacular!  So they thrive and they grow..because they believe me. Because I am their mother..their mom..their mama..they trust me.  Me. And on those nights when I recall that long ago conversation...when I allow myself a moment to be scared,,I wonder...have I raised them to live in how I think that the world should be instead of how the world  really is?  This is something I wrestle with.  Sometimes I feel guilty-like I am setting them up to be terribly disappointed..yet at other times I think that building their confidence, their sense of self will give them armor to get through anything.

  Anyone who has ever had the dubious pleasure of attending an IEP meeting with me has (more often than not) heard me say-quite clearly "I have to die some day.".(Mortality-the enemy of parents everywhere!) I don't say this for its shock value-I say it because it is the truth. Because if my kids don't get what they need now-how are they going to get by later-when I am no longer there?  Yes, I worry about not being there.

  I try very hard not to let my fears guide me. I admit, there is a part of me that wants to encourage them all to stay together at home(forever)...where it's "safe" and they can protect each other from the world as it is. But that wouldn't be fair-because it wouldn't be THEIR decision-THEIR choice..not really. It wouldn't be honest-because I have raised them to be who they are..regardless of how the world outside our home is. We have raised them with the fierce conviction that they have a rightful place in this world-a conviction that I believe with my entirety.  Encouraging them to hide who they are would be a contradiction. It would make what I have taught them a lie..acceptance with strings attached.  I can't do that....won't.

Way back in high school, a friend once said to me "If we you want to change how men view women in the world-raise your sons." Yet  another one of those snippets of conversation that has stayed with me-especially when I look out at the world that is outside of our home..Nine years later and Oscar is still flapping and eeeing...and he is still as charming as he was at four. Maybe I can't change the world..but I can raise my children...raise them...raise them up..and hope...and hope and hope that in some way..anyway..even if it is in a small way...the world will raise with them...

Full circle-steam ahead...

~"Deep in my heart
Save from the guards
Of intellect and reason
Leaving me at a loss
For words to express my feelings"~ Tracy Chapman

It started with a potato chip..Well, actually it started a little before that..Almost a year ago, I decided to take a semi break from blogging.  Some of the herd are getting older..they are starting to find their individual feet...go their own way. Although these are all really good things..wonderful things even....there was a part of me that was mourning...and conflicted.   With one hand I am pushing them forward...but...at the same time..I was clinging desperately hanging on with the other. I needed to take some time...figure things out.*sigh*.learn to let go.

 And then this happened. A silly accident that caused me to be on crutches for much of the summer....leaving me at the mercy in the care of four children. Without any way of escaping!! There I was stuck on the couch-there was no place to run (if I could)...nowhere to hide..unable to even get myself a cup of coffee. Subjected to seemingly endless hours of strange television..and YouTube videos...and children..four wonderfully "helpful" children who made me their purpose in life....when it was convenient..and it didn't interrupt with their television and computer time. They did however learn valuable life skills such as..doing laundry and the reason we fold it straight from the dryer(because we don't like being told that we need to go ALL THE WAY upstairs to put something unwrinkled on), that it was a good idea to clean up smeared peanut butter  immediately-because it took lots of work to clean it up after it hardened-not to mention the hours spent looking for a chisel to do so...and that leaving the front door open invited very large bugs into the house...bugs that their incapacitated mother could not kill entice to leave. As for me?  I learned that these kids of mine were much more capable than I had let them be.More willing and certainly more able. Letting go is so hard!  Still, I was ecstatic out of my mind with joy very happy when the school bus pulled up to our front door late in August.

  I was really apprehensive about this school year-especially for my Oscar.(photo of Oscar at about 18 months)  Much (not all) of fourth grade had been a wash...Oscar wasn't really pushed all that hard..(for the most part) I think that it gave him the message that his participation was not really necessary..So-my boy-being who he is-ran with it. He was sort of content to block out the noise...to live in his computer worlds of Mario, Skippy Jon Jones and all things sponge-bob.  But at the same, time more and more-the world off  screen calls to him. He just hasn't been too sure of exactly how to answer it-or , if he even really wants to. Oscar has had some pretty amazing people in his school life.  People who have worked very hard to help him. In some cases going above and beyond what was dictated by his IEP.   But..this year..this year he needed more.  This was a transition year-his last year of elementary school. It meant that Oscar-my boy who hates change..was going to have to get ready to leave the only place he has known for seven years. All of us a chez herd were feeling the strain long before he got on the school bus last August.

  Seven years ago, Oscar started school kicking and screaming.  Well, actually more screaming than anything. I don't think that there was a week where I wasn't called in to help calm him down.  Or at least it felt that way. From the time school started each day-till the time he got off the bus...it was anyone's guess as to what would happen. Would he be happy? Stressed? Overwhelmed?  There really were no indicators as to how it was going to go. I lived my life in a state of constant alert.  I was so afraid..afraid that he would hurt himself..or someone else.  Afraid that he might be asked to leave school..afraid that he couldn't do it.  That my belief that he COULD participate-was based solely on my own need for him to do so. It was a terribly scary and lonely time for me.  I could not think of anything other than putting one foot in front of the other-of getting Oscar through one day, one moment at a time...and slowly (sometimes VERY slowly) things got better..What a difference seven years makes.

  As I said before, He has had some pretty wonderful people around him.  From his speech therapist(who is amazing) and his case workers..to his different aids. Everyone has played a part.  It hasn't been an easy ride-there have certainly been glitches..but we have all muddled through... learned as we went.  This past year though..has been different. This was a transition year.  Oscar needed more-and even though I didn't realize it...I needed more.  Oh how I worried-*sigh*.

  What a waste of time that was. (hey, hind site is 20/20!) The people around him..well, I could not have asked for more-they gave everything and then some...From Ms. H who not only insisted he be a vital participant in her class-and especially for giving him moments where he could shine(having him teach the class about sound waves comes to mind!)...and Mrs. H..who refused to let him quit(and I know he tried...and tried)-who woke up his love for science..who allowed him to be himself and loved him for it. Through you-he learned that his words had substance and meaning...that even though they might be different- they counted..more importantly-that HE counted. And I can't forget to mention Mr. G. who oversaw it all...He may have (from time to time) used "sensitive guy" words like "explore" and "feelings"..but he ALWAYS made sure that I was kept informed and ALWAYS supplied me with chocolate at our monthly meetings-not only was he Oscar's support system-but he was mine as well.. ..All of them will be horribly missed next year.  Although I am not quite sure who will miss them more.  Oscar or...me.

  So, last Tuesday, in a small ceremony, the boy who entered the school kicking and screaming, quietly walked out with his fifth grade certificate. I don't know what the next year holds for him. At the moment,  Oscar.. well...he doesn't seem all too concerned.  I on the other hand will Probably spend most of the summer worrying..

Oscar lounging after  his ceremony. 

     Hey! I'm a mother-it is my job to worry...and sometimes it seems to be what I do best.  Besides, it isn't as if I have anything better to do..well, besides try to hide from my overly "helpful" children. Yup-just like last summer..I am once again stuck in a cast.  This time recovering from the surgery to fix the foot that didn't heal last summer. *SIGH*
History sometimes has a strange way of repeating itself.  I just hope that this year it doesn't include peanut butter, chisels or giant bugs....