A Year in Review

I'm not big on New Year's resolutions.  In fact, I don't believe in them.  I feel like it is just a way for the media and government to hound us about something.  My life has changed dramatically since I moved back to NY from HI over a year ago.  It was not an easy thing to pull off.  I was emotionally and physically exhausted, but I am so glad that I moved back.  I got back who I am and I no longer feel like my life is in limbo--we are actually moving forward here in NY.

My husband gets irritated that I never mention him in anything that I post online.  Nothing in my blog, my business, nothing.  I made a conscious decision to leave him out of those things because he is serving in the Army, and for the past year, a combat zone.  There is folly in that irritation too because it is a lose-lose situation for me.  Inevitably I will put in something--innocuous to me and everyone else--but not my husband, and I will be on the ***t list.  This has already happened with posts about our son.  It's just who you are Martin, and I am trying to find the right balance.

So since I moved home a year ago I've managed to clean up and set up a cozy apartment for me and my son.  Mom and I spent Thanksgiving last year in the emergency animal clinic with Peanut.  Almost a $1000 later, she's good now.  I managed to get the ball rolling on my grandmothers house---thank goodness my dad had already moved on my suggestion when I was in HI to have a full property survey done.  We got the septic tank pumped and I got someone in to drill the well and install the pumping system.  A friend of the family who is a real estate agent took on the house.  Then I got down to work.  I  cleaned that house out.  My dad helped with heavy moving and disposal and he and my uncle tackled the basement.  I got the main floor done, then mom and I did the attic.  We sold the house in February or March.  My grandmother is in a really nice home in Connecticut now that has an Alzheimer's unit with lockdown and has recently had to move up to a higher level of care that requires more assistance.  I found myself leaving for New Orleans on New Years Day to be with a dear friend whose husband was in a terrible car accident.  I was there for 10 days and it was an experience that I have yet to be able to sum up.  My parents had my son and were constantly calling me to come home because there was too much for them to handle.  I have also been witness to what I believe is a miracle--and that is Adam's recovery.  I remember the night before I had to leave to drive back to NY, sitting in the SICU room with Adam, just talking to him and holding his hand and just willing my energy into him.  I kept praying and I had this overwhelming feeling of peace and assurance that he would be ok.  For the 10 days that I had been there, there was no such feeling, no reason to believe that.  Today, he is preparing to go home to his family.  That is a miracle.

February found my dad and I down in NYC at the Javits Center for the International Toy Fair to make contacts for the formation of my new business.  A 2 am brainstorm had finally given birth to Sensory Assault Operations and its concept and there was a convergence of all the right things falling into place.  The next several months found me running my son to therapy and having therapy here in home and launching my business and website.  I also discovered Shaun the Sheep and how damn hilarious it is.  I was savoring everything---firsts with Gav and NY and all of the seasons and doing things with my parents.  We weren't sure what fall would bring or where the Army would send us next.  Always in the back of my husband's mind and my own, was, what is the right thing to do?  My husband's career is the Army--he has at least 7 years left before retirement.  Our son has Autism, SPD, and heart disease.  Our son doesn't do well with change and that is all that the Army has to offer our family.  After another convergence of events--call it fate (I do)--and we end up buying a house here in NY.  My husband returned from combat in September and has remained at his duty station until he is released to move to his new duty station, which is next week.  I have prayed and looked for help and solutions to these issues that have plagued my conscious for the past two years.  I was patient and open and I was shown what to do.

There are heart-wrenching private matters that have reared their ugly heads in the last 6 months.  After a year in Korea, a year in Afghanistan, 15 months in Iraq, and another 12 months in the sandbox, my marriage hit its breaking point.  Twice.  I felt that my husband and I were in a good place when he left and I think he did too.  We have been essentially been living two separate lives but together.  For the past 9 years of marriage he has been gone for I would say 60 months including training and deployments.  There have been times in our marriage while we were living in Hawaii that I almost left him.  I was existing without true affection and understanding.  I was being starved of social contact, verbally harassed and belittled, and shown a disturbing lack of interest in me and my thoughts, feelings, and interests.  I wasn't going to do another year alone in Hawaii.  I felt like I would snap.  I didn't want to leave my friends, but I knew for myself that I had to get out.  I had to get myself back.  This might sound like a lot of psychological Oprah crap, but it is the truth.  I've always known who I am, but I was allowing my husband to shut all of it off.  So I moved back.  I handed in our whole life in HI and said good-bye to our 6 years there.  It was not easy and I was in tears while my son and I were waiting to get on the plane--I didn't know if I had made the right choice and when or if my husband would throw it back in my face and use it against me.  So we left.  We taxied onto the runway and while were waiting our turn to take off my heart squeezed thinking about the life we had there, the beauty, the sadness, the fun, the laughter, the cozy home and belongings, and my friends.  As we got closer to Seattle, I was excited to see things I've never seen before and the prospect of what was ahead of me.

The first time our marriage wavered was late spring.  We were getting ready to go up to our cabin and ride Thomas the Tank Engine.  Gav was so excited about it.  I think that my mind has subconsciously gone into survival mode.  I would say that I have gotten used to not having my husband around.  I have gotten used to being a single mom.  I don't always like it, but I've gotten used to it and it is my new "normal."  I was always the doer anyway.  Dishes, trash, cleaning, bills, you name it I did it all most of the time.  I still do.  I am a survivor and a fighter; when times get tough, I hunker down and do what it takes to get things done.  I have grown self sufficient and used to doing everything so it is difficult to let my guard down.  On this day which I had been looking forward to for a long time, my husband tells me he doesn't know if he wants to stay married.  There was a lot of soul-searching and an opportunity to tell him how I was feeling when we lived in Hawaii.  We were able to mend things and enjoy his leave at the end of July.  But history has a way of repeating itself.  Will we make it this time?  It won't be for lack of trying or lack of love or lack of anything on my end.  My husband knows what I have asked of him and what the consequences will be if he ends up breaking my heart once again.  My heart has been sick, squeezed, and broken twice.  I won't allow it to happen again.  We have a son, a beautiful son who is the light of my world.  It is for him that I do everything.

This week and next are very busy times for me.  This week I will be very busy getting ready for Christmas at the bakery.  Gav has a recital in school and my mom is coming down with something.  Next week my husband comes home for Christmas,we are tentatively closing on our house, and of course there is Christmas.  It is a very exciting and joyous time for me--I love Christmas.  To everyone, I wish a Merry Christmas and a happy, blessed, and healthy New Year!          

Tis the Season

It snowed yesterday!  I swear that I could smell it the night before when we were standing at the base of the Tribute Garden in Millbrook for the tree lighting.  The night sky started out clear, twinkling with stars and promising a cold night.  It was cold.  When I say it is cold though, I don't say it with any kind of disdain like most people do.  I spent 6 years living in Hawaii where it is never cold, it is always hot.  I'm a seasonal girl.  I will freely admit that I need to have change to keep me satisfied.  The weather was always the same in Hawaii; some people love that, but it was not for me.  I like the daily change in weather here, I like the change in seasons.  There is something about snow that is magical and waiting for the first snow for me is like waiting for Santa when I was little.  The sky has taken on that snowy look and all of a sudden you see one of those beautiful lacy flakes flutter down from the clouds.  That is magic!  I was hoping that I would see the first snow from the windows of our new house, but once we move in, it will still be the first snow to me.

I have done my Christmas shopping for my son online this year.  I will pick up some stocking stuffers and little things here, but I do most of my shopping right online now and I started that while we lived in Hawaii.  I honestly don't want to have to deal with people at this time of year.  I try not to dis my experiences anywhere.  Each place that I have lived in has been a new experience for me.  I really enjoyed my 6 years in Hawaii, but it wasn't one long vacation like most people think when I tell them I lived there.  I had a double whammy in Hawaii.  The Army does its best to put you in your place whenever it gets a chance, so that was always hanging over your head.  Then, there was 1 Toys-R-Us for the whole island of Oahu.  Yeah.  So, needless to say I always had a difficult time walking into any store on the island and finding what I was looking for when I was looking for it.  Add that to the fact that I have to say that the "spirit of Aloha" is mostly myth.  I have several very dear friends and their families that I met that keep me from saying that the "Aloha" is complete myth.  I had people try to run me off the road on 3 different occasions.  I was treated completely different from locals at the post office.  I've been called a "stupid hauoli" and been treated rudely while watching my father-in-law marry his girlfriend on Waikiki.  Basic common courtesy is almost extinct.  All of these factors create a shopping environment that is not conducive to the Christmas Spirit.  The last year to two years of my time in Hawaii, I kept more to myself and stayed on base as much as I could because going out into the community was that much of a hassle.  Add to it the constant and incessant bombardment via the news, newspaper, internet, t-shirts, rallies, and enormous signs posted along the road for Hawaiian Sovereignty and the hostility toward white people, tourists, and the military, and the word "paradise" begins to be tainted to someone who arrived with eyes wide open with wonder and a heart open to the Aloha that I'd always heard about.  So I began to do my shopping online and put my Christmas spirit into making treats for my friends, my son's therapists and doctors, and the support group we went to.  I decorated the house inside and out and the highlight was going to the candlelight service at the church right down the street from our house on post.  This year I am fully enjoying my son's delight in seeing santa and all of the Christmas lights.  I am also looking forward to attending Christmas Eve services at the beautiful little old church right down the road from our new house.  Christmas to me is a time to see my son delight in the season like I remember, and for me, to just revel in the beauty of the Lord's birth.  Season' blessings to all!   

Radio Gavin

I was just trying to describe to my husband over messenger how I feel our son's mind works.  It was one of those light-bulb-flashing-on-over-my-head moments.  It is parent-teacher conference time and I just finished reading his progress report.  It was very thorough--they had one that was charted and another addressed each item on his IEP and listed what kind of progress he has made (if any) and any comments.  I find that to be very helpful since I have much less direct contact with the teachers here in NY for kindergarten than we did in HI for his spec-ed preschool.  I am really pleased with his school and his teachers.  We are really just so thrilled to be settled in one place; this anomaly in the Army world just makes me giggle with glee.  It tickles me because I can look at my son and know that I wont be dragging him wherever the Army takes us.  I feel for the first time since the diagnosis that this is the most important thing we can do for him and his future and the greatest gift that we can give him.  It comes at a great cost for my husband and I, but we are a team on this and agree to try to make it work.  We want to give Gav the best chance we can for a future as an independent, grounded, and happy adult.  So we bought a house.
 
So, my light-bulb-flashing-on-over-my-head moment was when I was trying to describe the state of our son's echolalia to my husband.  On messenger.  Gavin has always had echolalia and it kind of surges and ebbs like tides in the ocean.  His progress report says that they have had some progress with his echolalia, which is good. But I have noticed that at home he will repeat commercials verbatim.  He's just started this in the last couple of weeks.  There is innocence in his echolalia and the toys and things that grab his attention and it just disarms me.  My sweet boy is still innocent, still oblivious to the boy-girl cootie quotient.  He got some money for his birthday so we went to the toy store to pick something out.  He wanted the swan princess castle.  He had seen the commercials and it never entered into his sweet little mind that it was a toy for girls.  It was to him, a cool castle with music, things that light up, and swans.  The commercials that he tends to memorize verbatim happen to be the barbie dream house commercial (the one with the elevator in case curiosity was keeping you awake), the barbie RV commercial, and the Moxie Girls commercial.  This leads me to confess something else:  My son watches TV everyday.  Yes.  He watches a little in the morning  and I sometimes watch with him and prompt him to answer Dora's questions or answer Dora's questions myself.  I'm trying to get him to notice the cues and I don't care if it takes a TV program to help him with that.  The other reason I let him watch TV is that he has learned so many things from some of his TV programs that he would not pick up from other people or children because in social situations he can't read those cues.  Of course, I restrict the channels he can watch--we watch Disney, Nickelodeon, or Nick-Jr.  I also allow him to watch TV after school.  I know from experience that a whole day of focus and structure wears on my son and I can't push him once he gets home.  Home is his place and I leave him be to unwind in his own way.  OK I have digressed too many times.

I had better type before my light bulb burns out!  I have come to think that our brains operate like a radio station; you have AM and FM and both frequencies have different stations and our brains have to "tune in" to pick up the right broadcast.  Its like a majority of the population operates on different stations in FM but his signal is strongest on AM.  His brain is tuning and it processes what it has trained itself to look for; the "stations" that come in the best (meaning he is tuned into the right station and information is being taken in and processed), come out in his echolalia.  Like his echolalia is his brain's way of showing us what information Gav has taken in and is processing.  Looking at his disorder in this way might give us a better way to see how his mind works and analyze how the information he is being bombarded with is processed and sorted.  If somehow we can figure out his "station," then we will be able to streamline the learning process and tailor it to his "station."  Echolalia could simply be like a record skipping or a brain stutter, I don't know, but the whole station thing deserves a closer study.  It might be a good tool to develop to help people better understand our Autistic kids and help find each child's "station."             

Out Sick

Well I am at home for sick day number 2.  I'm bored.  I actually want to go to work--I love my job and it doesn't feel right to sit home.  With all of the H1N1 hysteria out there, I have decided to do what is right for my co-workers and customers.  I am fastidiously clean and organized, but I don't want to take a chance and spread my germs around.  My wonderful parents picked up my son from school and kept him over night and took him to school for me this morning.  When we were living in HI, my husband was deployed or working while I convalesced so I had take care of our son.  The one time I was sick when my husband was not deployed or training I asked him to see if he could come home and take care of our son---I was that sick.  His CO gave him two hours.  It was better than nothing.  So I'm in bed now with The Philadelphia Story on TV and two dogs cuddled up with me.  Needless to say that I won't be processing any orders for the next few days. 

Peek-A-Boo Bags are Here!

Peek-A-Boo bags have arrived---that's right, they have finally PCSed here to Sensory Assault Operations!  They are so cool too.  We have all three kinds:  Pink is Sugar n' Spice with all kinds of charms for girls hidden inside; Green is Everything A to Z with--you guessed it--different charms starting with each letter of the alphabet; Blue is Rough n' Tuff with all kinds of charms for boys hidden.  These little bags are really neat.  They are 6 inch by 6 inch squares and are ruggedly constructed of fabric.  They feel nice to hold in your hand with the soft corduroy backing and the bright striped canvas on the front is eye-catching and cheerful.  Each bag has a list of the items hidden inside, but the neat thing about the list is that there are pictures of each item with the name right under it.  So younger kids who can't read yet or are just learning to ready won't be overwhelmed by the list.  The list is also made of a soft white fabric and snaps onto the back very securely.  In the corner is a little loop for easy carrying.  It has been a long wait for these little bags, but the Peek-A-Boo bags were worth the wait!  They are a wonderful addition to our line of unique tools for sensory kids.

Check out our site and see our NEW Peek-A-Boo bags along with our NEW Flat Friends!  I've also finally figured out how to update the home page and streamline some things, so you'll notice our new look as well.  It only took me hours upon hours upon hours over several months to figure it all out! "Where there is a will, there is a way!"   

Sensory Assault Operations may be having a change of address soon--stay tuned!  An e-mail notifying all of our newsletter subscribers will be sent out--so if you haven't signed up, sign up today to stay up to date!  I will also be drawing a winner from our pool of subscribers to win a $10 gift certificate to Sensory Assault Operations!   Sign up by November 15th to be qualified for the prize.

A lovely lady out on the west coast contacted me about her sensory support group in Redmond, Washington and they had their event a couple of weeks ago.  We donated a gift certificate for a Sensory Assault Pack (SAP) for her to raffle off---I am really looking forward to meeting the lucky winner!  I love to keep in contact with our customers and people who contact me and give me feedback--above all I am still a mom and my son still has issues each and every day.  I am always learning something new and there are so many great mom's out there with super ideas.

Look for several new products on our website by the end of the year!  We are always looking for unique products to add to our selection of unique tools.  I also have a couple of new ideas that I have to research and test as well, but I will keep everyone posted!

The Autumn

I was driving around the Hudson Valley yesterday and just enjoying the perfect fall weather that we have been having.  The leaves are almost at peak and the air is crisp.  Fallen leaves crunch underfoot; the crisp air and toasty scent of the fallen leaves perfumes the air.   Yesterday morning, the sky was stacked with rows of dark gray clouds but persistent slashes of sunshine broke through.  As the day went on the clouds broke up and sailed away leaving a calm sea of blue sky.  One of my most vivid flashes of memory throughout my life is that same blue sky behind gorgeous splashes of oranges, yellows, and reds.

I feel in perfect harmony with the Hudson Valley.  I have found where I belong.  She and I are sisters; like the slashes of sun breaking through the clouds, I had the realization that melancholy does not mean unhappy.  I accept that it is part of who I am, but isn't sadness, it is simply melancholy--pensive and thoughtful.  I now delight in the ever changing air and weather here where when I was younger, it used to affect me profoundly in a different way.  I used to let those days with no sunshine and low gray clouds sweep over me until I felt the same way.  No more.  I am grown now and am beginning to see myself again; it is easy to get lost in life and forget who you are, but I was always in there chafing against the confines of what my life was molding me into, instead of who I was.  I could never really just let me be me and be comfortable with it.  I always had to hold my tongue, or suppress my feelings, and had no one to share ME with, except ME.  That is not a good way to live, no matter how much you love someone.  That love is true and strong, but there is always conflict and struggle because that love doesn't see the whole person.  It doesn't see the person who has changed who they are and how they act to fit into that love, not be the person they really are and loved for that.  Love comes in many degrees and infinite ways,  but love alone cannot sustain a person.  When big parts of a whole person are left unloved and misunderstood, it cracks the foundation and that love falters.

Dear dear friends of mine were blessed with a new life this week.  I don't know if they had a boy or a girl, but I pray that their baby is healthy and so is my friend.  I wish them all of the happiness and blessings that their life can hold.  God bless you Barbara and Anthony and your beautiful new baby.         

Flat Friends and Terrorizing Rhinebeck

I am proud to announce that we have a new product:  Flat Friends.  Flat Friends are stuffed animals without the stuffing and are made out of 100% pure Australian sheepskin.  Each Flat Friend is a different animal that is endangered, many of which are indigenous to Australia.  We will be carrying the Saltwater Croc, Grey Wolf, Sea Turtle, and Harp Seal Pup.  I am so excited about Flat Friends!  Sheepskin is such an under-used natural product here in the United States.  In Europe and Australia sheepskin is known and used for its soothing and healing properties.  It is widely considered to be hypoallergenic which means that it won't cause or inflame allergies.  It also soothes and heals sensitive and irritated skin, can prevent and heal bed or pressure sores, and stimulates circulation.  Because the fibers are aerated, sheepskin also regulates body temperature and wicks away moisture.  Naturally occuring lanolin in sheepskin is similar to the oils produced by our skin and acts as a balm.  When hung out in fresh air, lanolin also acts as a "cleaner" for the sheepskin and naturally repells dirt and bacteria.  I got my son the Grey Wolf--stay tuned to see how he (and I) like him!

If you have been following my blog you would have read my post entitled "Tantruming Around Town."  So far my son has managed to terrorize Pleasant Valley and Millbrook and we can now add Rhinebeck to the list.  Luckily for us and the entire town of Rhinebeck, this tantrum was localized and brief.  I had to buy work shoes for my newly secured job as baker for a local market.  I told my son that if he could behave while we were in the shoe store, we would go into the little toy shop there in town.  Well, for the whole 15 minutes we were in the shoe store, he just couldn't do it.  Not only would he not listen to me--he wouldn't listen to his Grammy either and got fresh with her.  So out of the store to walk the streets of Rhinebeck Grammy went and Gav was---horror of all horrors---stuck in the store with just me and all of those boring shoes.  Needlless to say,  we did not go to the toy shop and so Gav decided to fight my fire with his fire (right about now would be a fantastic time to substitute "shwartz" for "fire"  OMG!  I just proved my hypothesis that there really is a quote from Spaceballs for every situation in life!!  The forever immortalized Rick Moranis as Dark Helmet says to Bill Pullman's Lonestar "I see your schwartz is as big as mine" ).  Gav decides that he can't get into the car.  I've been down this road soooo many times and just didn't feel like stuffing my kicking, screaming, and biting 50# 5 year old into the open door of the car.  So Grammy and I get into the car and put our seatbelts on and I give him a chance to get in.  No.  So then I put the car in reverse and roll back maybe a foot and the screaming escalates.  I put it in first and roll forward and get out of the car to see if he wants to go with us--he says no.  I said, ok, you go sit on that  bench over there, Grammy and I are going.  Back into the car I go and do the whole seatbelt/reverse shtick again.  A lady in her 60's walks by and looks pitiously at my son and glares at me and asks us if he belongs to us and we nod.  This  time the ruse worked---I looked at my mother and told her that little weasel was going to make me back out of that parking space before he gave in.  Luckily I didn't have to because he didn't seem to want to chance the idea that I might leave him there.  I really think that he is beginning to get the idea that I really do always follow through on my threats.  Like the day I took him to school with no shoes and almost no shirt.  Yeah.  We're both lucky he got as far as the clean pull-up and pants, because he was about to arrive at school fashionably late and unfashionably clothed in his pajamas.


So, according to the website that lists municipality information for Dutchess County, there are 20 towns, 2 cities, and 8 villages in our fair county.  The running tally for the newly entitled prospectus: "Tantruming Our Way Around Dutchess County" is:

Gavin:  2 villages, 1 town
Dutchess County:  6 villages, 19 towns, and 2 cities

Right now DC is coming out ahead but there is no telling when our schwartz's will get twisted again.

Melancholy Musings

Yesterday I took the Peanut to an "undisclosed location" for a walk and to experience the unpredictable and melancholy weather that is Fall here in the Hudson Valley.  The word "melancholy" often denotes a mournful and gloomy meaning, but it also means "sober thoughtfulness and pensiveness;"  pensive means "dreamily or wistfully thoughtful."  Two words never fit so perfectly together to describe the Hudson Valley; the weather and the woods, the air and the wind, the wide and winding Hudson River, and the ever changing clouds and weather, all whisper those two words together.  When I was younger, I could never explain how I felt, I never really understood until now how my feelings change just as the HV does.  It isn't merely the weather that changes, the rain or sunshine; it is all of the elements together that are ever changing, moment to moment; it is in the air and the wind and the way the sun shines through the leaves on a tree.  I never understood until now how that can affect one's spirit so profoundly  and carry through no matter where the physical body is.

When I lived in Hawaii, it was almost always sunny.  The weather rarely changed from day to day, so when it was a rainy day or windy, I always enjoyed the change.  One would think that constantly sunny weather equates to constant happiness, but it wasn't so.  Happiness, thoughtfulness, melancholia, and pensiveness all go beyond mere weather in a place.  All of those elements have to be together and whisper it to everyone and everything in that place.  Hawaii did not have that--I could not feel it no matter how much I wanted to, but I could feel the anger, hostility, and resentment.   No matter how beautiful the scenery, feeling those things coming from the land and its people can make a place not only look ugly but feel ugly too. 

My heart was always here in the HV; I have never felt a connection to a place, other than the Adirondacks, such as the one that I feel for the HV.  What I never understood until now is how the HV and I are inexplicably woven together.  Wherever I went, my feelings and moods were ever changing, just as the HV was though I was gone;  it is a kinship to the HV that I now understand.  I also never truly understood the words "melancholy" and "pensive" until now, but they describe the HV and I perfectly.  The HV's nature is forever woven into the fiber of my being and I will always miss it when we are apart.  Some people never have the opportunity to find a place that fits them so perfectly.  Had I not left and experienced life in other places, I might not have either.  So many people think that "the grass is always greener on the other side," we've had a lot of rain this year and the grass is a lush and gorgeous green as I have ever seen.

Fall has Fallen

Well, all of a sudden fall has fallen here in the Hudson Valley! Yesterday it was in the 80's and humid and today it is breezy and in the 60's---picture perfect fall weather. The brilliant blue sky against the bright autumn leaves is a sight for which there is no comparison. We were on our way to my in-laws for dinner and someone along the way had a wood fire going--it smelled so good! Some leaves are starting to fall too and that crisp woodsy earthy scent gets picked up and carried on the breeze. We had a lot of rain this year so we are expecting a bumper crop of apples. Yay! Fresh picked macs are one of life's little pleasures! The fresh UNPASTEURIZED apple cider is most delicious as well. I LOVE fall! I am so thankful that I get to be here in NY and see fall unfold this year---I love everything about it and I love it here.

Gav is loving school and having a great time too. I hated school with a passion from day one so I am just thrilled beyond words that he loves to go to school. Already you can see that he is thriving--he is a chatterbox with so many new words and sentences and everything is spontaneous, not "programmed." He is confident and independent and more sure of himself. He loves the weather and going to see grammy and grandpa and all of the little things that make life wonderful. Sometimes you can see that he has touched complete contentment and reached the zenith of happiness to an almost 5 year old. It is such a privilege to see that and know that.

Me, I'm trying to figure out how to squeeze a gallon of money out of a quart. I'm not sure that it is possible, but I sure-as-hell am going to try! I'll let you know how that one goes.

I am writing my own kids book, apparently that is the thing to do when you're a stay at home mom with a special needs kid. I didn't get that memo until recently, but I've been working on my kids book for a long time now and it has nothing to do with my son. I wrote it and am doing the illustrations myself as well. It is a labor of love and a work of tribute to a great person I knew and how he brought what he loved to as many people as he could. It is called "The Popcorn Man." Stay tuned. I rewrote the text and am about to sit down and re-do the illustrations. I had already completed the text and illustrations for the first version, but it needed to be simplified and re-focused, so that is what I did and I am just really excited about it. I didn't know I had it in me--I never really considered myself an artist. I always did like to write and thought that one day I might write a book. Even when I was little one of my favorite things to do was make books. My problem is that I have so many ideas that I don't know which one is the right one! However, I have always believed that the Lord would show me which ones and then how and when, and He did. He showed me the way with my company, Sensory Assault Operations and my kids book "The Popcorn Man." The thing is,we all expect that the right ideas will make us a fortune; the word fortune implies money, but the Lord has his own way of seeing and doing and that "fortune" may come in ways that many of us don't look for. Success comes from within, not from within your bank account or checkbook, but from within yourself. The Lord doesn't limit the scope of our successes to just money and material possessions; if we limit ourselves in that way, we will eventually find failure. I want to set standards for myself through the Lord--not through society. So, if maybe my business fails, it was still a success because I did it. I'm not doing "The Popcorn Man" to make a million, I'm doing it as a labor of love and respect. If it is a hit, that's great! If not, I finished it, I carried through and will find contentment in the fact that I successfully wrote, illustrated, and published this book and honored George's life. Someone said once that "all you can do is your best." As long as I do my best in whatever I try, it means I have lived up to my end of the bargain. Everyone has their own standard of "the best," but it is human nature. As long as I know what I am capable of and do it each and every time, if it isn't enough for someone else--that's their problem not mine. All you can do is your best.

Tantruming Our Way Around Town

My son is so cute.  I adore my little boy---he really is so sweet.  I guess that is why it is surprising and it isn't when his evil twin makes his appearance.  I mean, at the age of almost-five, he has taken self-depracating to a new level.  This past weekend was Pleasant Valley Weekend--the first in several years.  When I was little, I remember doing the bike-a-thon and going to Pleasant Valley Weekend every year.  So I was excited that it was back and I would get to go again and this time bring my son.  Our agenda was to enjoy the parade first, then head down to the festivities in Cady Park.  My son has a love-hate relationship with fire trucks and emergency vehicles in general--he loves the big shiny trucks with lights and hates the noisy horn and sirens.

Now, this was my son's very first parade!  Imagine if you will living on a small island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with well over a million other people and they all are trying to go to the same parade down in Waikiki, and there is very limited and extremely expensive parking.  Yeah, no can--we opted out of the parades on Oahu, so I was really excited about taking Gav to this parade.    To watch my son, you would think that getting ready to go and see a parade was an act of torture.  There was plenty of screaming and kicking and threats.  By the time we got to Pleasant Valley, I was already tired out.  After awhile Gav settled down and watched the parade in wide-eyed wonder.  And then the fire trucks came.  They were blowing their horns and running the sirens and that freaked him out, so he wanted my hands over his ears.  He was pressing my hands into his ears so hard, his little ears were bright red.  We backed up from the road and sat down and then he seemed to really enjoy things.  When they started throwing candy along the parade route, he got into it really quick!  After the parade, we sat outside at the pizza place and had some lunch and then went down to the fair.  There were games and rides, food booths, activity booths, and informational booths.  It was warm and there were lots of people there which was really great to see.  Gav was excited, but he threw in just enough snottiness that I was ready to curtail our day.  He wanted snacks so I bought him snacks and then he didn't want snacks.  I was determined to get some kettle corn; I had to wait like 15 minutes for the lemonade and kettle corn and found my parents and my son in the shade.  Gav wanted to go on the cars ride and I said he could go.  Well, he enjoyed the ride, but when I told him one ride was it, all hell broke loose.

A tantrum-ing we will go!  So now we're two for two---first a really ugly tantrum was shared with the town of Millbrook, and now, Pleasant Valley got an encore showing.  I had to pick my son up and carry him like a football.  The whole time he was screaming and kicking me and trying to bite whatever part of me or my clothes he could get his pearly whites on.  I passed a bunch of teenagers with my screaming 50 pound 5 year old and told them to let this scene be birth control for them.  We made it out by the road and I dropped him into the grass so he could continue his rant without further injuring me.  He refused to walk to the car so up he went and I carried him kicking and screaming, literally, down the road to the car.  It was the walk of shame really---I felt like a crappy mom.  And I got to share the lovely tantrum with all of the cars going by that were driving into town.  My mom jokingly wanted to know how many 911 calls were coming in about a child abduction because of the kicking and screaming and my road-marching to the car with a purpose!  Eventually he calmed down and apologized when we got back home and then he had a nap.  I wouldn't be surprised if one day I picked up the Poughkeepsie Journal and found a new column and a picture of my and Gav's faces with a caption reading:  Which Town Will They Terrorize Next?

Making the Impossible Work

When we say things are impossible, it implies that they can't be overcome. I like to think that almost nothing is impossible. That's also a very good mindset to have when your husband is in the Army. I've been called upon to make decisions that really, I always felt were way out of my league. Like when I had to decide whether to have Gav's open heart surgery in Hawaii or in California while my husband was living with Afghani villagers. Afghani villagers don't have phones, or TV, or internet. Neither did any of the soldiers. Oh, and no one from his company bothered to notify the wives that their husbands were stranded and living with villagers. I had to make that decision myself and it was not easy let me tell you.

These kinds of situations call on us to make decisions that really, there is no training for--there is no preparing for them, sometimes, there aren't even any good answers. Then I have to step back and remember that I am not in control of any of this. The good Lord is always standing by to help with these seemingly insurmountable decisions--I just have to stop, take a deep breath and open myself to His guidance. When everything in your life is spiraling out of your control, stopping to regroup is not an easy thing. It also doesn't mean that you hand things over to the Lord and stop trying. The Lord helps those that help themselves. So here I am. Years ago I accepted the Lord as my Savior; today I still struggle between my own stubbornness and remembering to listen for the Lord's guidance. I have to humble myself before the Lord so that he knows I want to listen, to follow. He gives me the strength to carry on, to hope, and to stand strong. I'm going to need it.

Stretched Thin

There are no breaks.  My son is home sick for a second day.  I don't know if it is warranted, but he has just enough going on to keep him home.  I just wish that other parents were as cautious.  His heart disease adds an extra layer of concern whenever any kind of illness pops up.  I'm not running him to the doctor for every sneeze, but I need to keep things in perspective.  Even a simple cold can take a very wrong turn and if I don't give him the time to fight it off, it could come back with a vengeance.    So we're here.  At home.  Me, Gav, Peanut, Milo, and a very persistent black fly that won't leave me alone.  I have two boxes full of t-shirts that have to be mailed out from the Pocono Drag Lodge Reunion that my dad organized in August.  I will be donating 18 propaganda pads to a lady whose granddaughter takes care of wounded soldiers in Iraq.  She was irritated because it has been so long since I called her last.  I handmade all of them and then carefully packed them for shipping, but I haven't been able to get over to her house to drop them off.  I'm not sure where my husband is, I haven't heard from him in a couple of days--he is getting ready to redeploy back to his duty station from the middle east.  My grandmother was upset because she thinks I blew off my cousins birthday party--they had it when my husband was home on R & R--and I never even knew about it.  So I have a present for him and haven't been able to meet up with them to give it so I'm feeling the pressure on that.  My other grandmother is in a nursing home because she developed back to back infections and they couldn't nurse her at the assisted living home where she was.  So I wonder how many more infections her tired little body can take before it gives up?  She has Alzheimer's too.

Everyone seems to want something for nothing today.  My business is a little business.  When I donate things---which I LOVE to do---it costs me money.  It costs me the money I paid for the item plus I still have to pay NY state their sales tax on that item even though I am not collecting any.  It just seems like some days as a business owner everybody wants something for free and as me, Sherri, everybody wants something else.  The cable company, the phone company and all of those other bills all want their money but they also stick all of these little fees and surcharges in there to nickel and dime you.  I try really hard--in all aspects of my life to do the right thing and to stay on top of things, but it seems like no matter how hard I try it is never enough.      

So Much for a "Quiet" Sunday

My Sunday started at 6 am this morning.  Yes, my son was up bright and early before it was even bright out.  He wanted to lay down with me on my bed.  Considering my bed is a very uncomfortable futon that I don't even bother to open anymore, I convinced him to get back in his bed.  With pillow and quilt I followed and he never went back to sleep.  I managed to doze, but instead of being lulled awake with the scent of brewing coffee and breakfast on the stove, I was rudely awakened by the smell of stinky-pants.  Besides, I don't drink coffee or eat eggs and there's no one here to cook them anyway.  So now I am here and my 75 pound four-legged fur-child is feeling frisky and pulling her noisy antics.  Not to be outdone, the 12 pounder comes over and begins to howl, matching Peanut's Sunday morning rant, howl for howl.  It is actually very entertaining and I love it when my girl Peanut is frisky, after all, she is 8 years old and I dread the day when she is frisky no more.  Living here in NY really agrees with both of my dogs.  In Hawaii, it was always so hot and Peanut could never really just go and run anywhere---except for the now infamous "Ford Island Incident." Now, Peanut can run free and gets to go with Grampa on different outings.  I'll take her with me in the car when we go to visit my parents and twice now she has refused to come home with me.  No, Peanut was going to stay overnight at Grammy and Granmpa's.  There really isn't any way to argue with a 75# dog, so she got to stay overnight---she wouldn't even say goodbye to me!

Milo my Cairn is just a cute fluffy little cuddle-bug.  He is so cute--those little brown eyes winking behind the tufts of fur sticking up from his nose, just pull you right in and get you every time.  Quite a few times now he has insisted on coming with me---pushing his way out the gate and running to the car in a not-so-subtle hint that he is long overdue for a car ride.  He rides on my lap.  They keep life interesting and Peanut has been with me through thick and thin and 4 deployments now.  Milo has settled down and is a great buddy and is going on his 2nd deployment with me and the Peanut.  Peanut took the old "man's best friend" adage literally and though she is supposed to be my dog, the sun rises and sets on her daddy.  When it is just she and I, she is one damn funny dog--she makes me laugh and she shows me she loves me in her own way.  I will say unashamedly that she is my best friend.  This ones for you Peanut!

Holy Temper-Tantrum Batman!

We are balancing on that tenuous cusp between summer and fall here in the Hudson Valley. Some trees have just a blush of fall color while others are stubbornly green. The little town of Millbrook was having a community day so my mom and I decided that it would be nice to walk around town with Gav and see what there was to see. We were crossing a road and Gav dropped the ball that someone had given him and he stopped dead in the road and jerked his hand away. I made him go to the sidewalk and explained that he couldn't stop in the middle of a road where there were cars. "BAM" "POW" and then "holy temper-tantrum Batman!" He wouldn't hold my hand or his Grammy's and wouldn't walk so I would push him. That ceased to work so I picked him up and carried him back to the car like a 50 pound kid-shaped football. I thought it was nice that we had done our part for community day---I got to share Gav's tantrum with the whole town! There was this couple there with nicely coiffed hair and wearing matching Skipper and Muffy sunglasses and subdued coordinating Ralph Lauren sitting behind their booth. The sign had a Yin-Yang symbol on it and said something about teaching people to have peaceful lives in tune with nature. I told my mom I should drop Gav off at the booth and see what they could do with him.

In a matter of one block the t-t kicked into advance t-t and he was kicking and trying to bite me. When I finally could hold him down long enough to strap him into his car seat he threw the water bottle that was in his cup holder before I could grab it and water then spilled all over the floor of the car. Gav was too busy screaming to notice the lovely tinkling sound of the water washing over the floor. I had to drive mom back home and then drive back to my place and the whole time I was listening to the lovely lullaby of screaming and blubbering about how he needed to apologize to "my Grammy." I guess if people really knew what they'd be up against with kids before they decided to have them, no one would procreate. I had to steel myself to keep driving instead of pulling over and hugging him and saying "it's ok, lets go back so you can apologize to 'your Grammy.'"

The big red rimmed eyes and salty tears on their cheeks could melt an iceburg. I knew I had to hang in there though. Once in his room he threw his stuffed horse, Buttons. So Buttons is sitting next to me now with his head leaning against the back of the couch with his glassy marble eyes soulfully staring me down.

Gav's in bed for a nap, a nap that he really shouldn't be having so that I can keep him on his school schedule. He calmed down and apologized and I explained to him why he can't stay at Grammy's tonight.

Even the best plans can change faster than you can say "Holy Temper-Tantrum Batman!"

The Battle of the Socks and Shoes

It was one of those mornings that just starts the day off great. My son woke up happy and was watching his little DVD player and asked if he could have some "meatballs" (doughnut holes). We were doing great until it was time to get dressed. We'd picked out his clothes last night before bed so everything would be ready this morning. Well, it all started with the shirt, he wanted to pick a different shirt--fine. Then we got his pants on--he is very skinny so regular pants are just ridiculous on him--I had to use the adjustable waistband and cinch them all the way. He didn't like that but I pulled up his pull-up and he could deal. Then came the socks. Lord have mercy, please! The socks are what broke the camel's back. I won't go into the details but there was plenty of screaming and crying and the end result was me holding him down to put his shoes on. Then I had to push my hysterical child out the door, to the car, and then into the car. I'm a bad mom because he wouldn't get in his seat so I put him in and just clipped the top part and off we went. We live just a few blocks from school but it was raining this morning.  When I got him to school there's all of the smiling ladies waiting to help all of the precious children into school. He went---he didn't want to but one of them reached for his hand and talked to him and led him right inside.

I don't know about other moms out there, but having a morning like that just saps an kind of emotion that I might have had at this hour of the morning. This kind of thing isn't unusual for my son, but he really had been doing well, BUT he also has been wearing sandals for the past 4 months and no socks. My son hates the little seemingly insignificant transitions. The bigger ones he can cope with quite well but when you think about how many seemingly insignificant transitions there are in a day they all add up to just sap you of all of your energy. I hope that other moms with their sensory kids had a much better morning than I did.....

Welcome to the Sensory Assault Operations Blog!

My blog still has the brand new blog smell!  Wow.  There are so many things going through my head right now--the one that keeps coming back is "will anyone read this?"  Who knows.  Stranger things have happened, like the time the Wahiawa Mahu wasn't wearing anything under his robe on a windy day...but I digress.  For anyone who actually takes the time to read this, I can type as fast as my thoughts come and go so I may end up covering anything and everything in this blog!  I've seen a lot of things, lived a few places, done a lot of stuff, met a lot of people, and I've done all of those things working in a commercial kitchen too.  Oh the things that go on in those kitchens! 

Stuff that I'll be covering here can include, but not be limited to:  my life, my son, my life with my son, his Autism and Sensory Processing Disorder, my e-commerce site, my two dogs (who, if they could type would have their own blogs), and dealing with being in a long distance relationship with the Army.  Isn't that enough?