Okay, I'll try again...

    


Wow! It's been so long I forgot what I last wrote!

3 months and so much to catch up on - that I won't even attempt it - but rather just pick up where we currently are.

Saturday past, the entire family with our 'adopted daughter' Kelly - walked in the Fmaily Fun Walk @ the Race for Autism, in Balboa Park.

We had a blast! It felt great doing something like this and I am committed to recruit my friends to walk the 5k with me next year!






There were boothes to check out before and afterwards and lots of freebies to collect, games to play and local celebs to photograph!

The walk was only a mile and very slow going, due to the masses. For a quick walker like myself, I had to practice patience and remember that it was for a good cause and not a cardio work out!
It was cold and drizzly, and I actually had long underwear on underneath my yoga pants and hoodie and mittens on my hands!
While it was probably in the low 50's, the air felt much crisper.
I could not believe that Lauren and Wilie were in lesser layers and even took off the hoodies, at one point! Julian too - but Brendan was bundled up in sweat pants and actually wore mittens! (Something he never does!)

For once I would have traded places happily with the guy in th SD Padre Friar suit! Bet HE was nice and warm!!!


 


Julian is finishing up his 1st season of indoor soccer and is once again on a fantastic team!

He has really developed into a great defender and his endurance has really improved. Especially because the team has enough players where the ones who tire - can actually come out with a replacement.His bff Jaycee is on the next best team in their league - while Julian's team holds the best record.
He should be really ready for fall AYSO sign ups, after this! Brendan is hanging in there at Grossmont JC. Lots of challenges and life lessons to be learned. I can only hope the bumps along the way aren't major or overly discouraging for him.

He is volunteering 2 days a week in Julian's classroom now - maybe this will help him get some direction as to a future career goal?...

As for our fur baby 'Rosie' - she isn't so much a baby anymore as a teen age cat!
She is beautiful and I have discovered that her markings actually make her more a 'Bengal' than a 'Tabby'.
She is so 'wild' looking with her stripes, splotches and rings!
Still a lovey and cuddler - and still the feline version of Julian.
And sadly, STILL Big Kitty's arch nemesis... :(
I don't think she will ever get 'the love' she craves from her matriarch - and she hasn't really given up trying!
I have truly enjoyed walking whenever I can get away in the mornings -without chores or errands to keep me from it.
Lake Murray's 3 miles up and 3 more back - is a favorite of mine.
Mostly because it is quiet and peaceful and with my earbuds in place - I can escape the daily drudgery - for my hour or so of fresh air and motion.
Took Brendan one time - didn't quite make the 6 miles...lol.

So there is a brief summary of what I have been up to.
I will close with this - the reason I decided to try and come back to blogging.
I wrote this yesterday after enjoying an observation about kids in general: Enjoy!

Boys and Girls

I think that every little boy should have a little girl as his best friend – at some point in his childhood.

I hail from the generation that boys played only with boys – and girls with girls.
I grew up in the 60’s-70’s set of decades where even though women’s equality took center stage – there was still segregation between the sexes - intentional or not.
I have been fortunate enough to have had a child in 3 different decades and blessed enough to have at least one of each, in this mix.

My daughter was born in the 80’s.
While she had friendships with family and extended families sons her age – there was still the tendency to ‘group’ the girls with the girls. Even though she seemed better suited to friends of both sexes, she wasn’t comfortable breaking free and doing so, until late middle school – early high school years.


My eldest son was born in the 90’s.
He was the first, I think – of my children to accept the opposite sex as viable friendships.
Having social issues and learning disabilities at an early age, added to being small in stature, quiet and very polite – he was ‘girl bait’ for all the potential Mother Hens of his generation. His birthday parties seemed to always favor more females than males – and he was quite comfortable with that. He was quite my neutral child, being quite androgynously neither feminine nor overtly masculine.


My youngest son was born into the millennium – and destined for ground breaking results.
Having neighbors with little girls to grow up with – one a bit older, and one a year younger – put him smack dab in the middle of the pecking order.
Having an older sister and an older brother, taught him equality from birth – but having girls as everyday playmates and friends – has taught him something quite astounding.

In this boy child that has more testosterone than my husband and older son merged together – there is a sensitivity, a compassion and an ability to relate – unlike the average little boy of years gone by, who surrounded himself with only male friends and playmates.
He has so many friends at school, I have lost count.
But his closest happen to be both sexes – whom he loves and treasures equally.
Recently he won guest passes for a movie preview and was so torn because he could only invite 2 of his 3 friends.
I have never seen my son struggle so much in his short 7 years – as to having to decide which of his friends would not be able to attend with us.
He was brought to tears at the thought of excluding even one of them, from such a ‘cool’ event.
I listen to him when he plays with his male best buddy – and the antics and play is just such pure, unadulterated ‘little boy’! From the belches to the competitive edge in sports and games – they epitomize boyhood.
I also listen when playing with the girls – and while still true to his self and nature – he is somehow, a different child.


While playing with his girl ‘friends’ yesterday, in the back yard on the trampoline – one of his playmates had the unfortunate luck, to get ‘jumped’ on purely by accident.
Her tears brought him racing inside to find me and his maturity at that moment was beyond his tender years – and for a moment – I think I had a glimpse of the man my son was to someday become.
“Mom – Amanda’s hurt: she needs you.”
Matter of fact, with a controlled urgency: Just what he will need, if he is to pursue his current dream of becoming a paramedic. Just some tears of fear and sore spots that were easily calmed with an ice pack and play resumed in a matter of minutes. I stood inside, where they couldn’t see me – yet I could hear them.


“Amanda, you are my princess and I am your slave. What can I get you to make you feel better?”…..


Yes, I think every little boy NEEDS to have a little girl as a best friend, at some point in his life – and preferably, before he marries her.

Christmas 2010

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Routines, Lies and Kitties

Hello to anyone out there reading this!
It has been exactly 26 days since I last blogged.
I apologize to the Blog Gods, since I am pretty sure no one reads this, they ARE 'all knowing' - but that is cool.
I have to remember this is for Me...
So much has happened in the past two dozen days since I last posted, too.



I will start off this post with the addition of our newest fur baby, Rosalina (aka: Rose)
She is the sweetest little thing around.
A tabby with the most beautiful markings that wrap completely around her - even across her tiny kitten belly!
Her mew is teensy and she loves everyone.
She is truly Julian's cat and sleeps with him in his bed every night.
She is a happy and healthy kitty, who purrs just when she gets near you, not to mention the motor boat when you hold her.
She loves the warmth of my laptop, so it is her best (non-living) friend.
Our gray cat hates her and this isn't a complete mystery to me, I mean I GET the whole territorial, primal animal thing.
But this little kitten is SO not the typical annoying kitten, that is all in your face!
She is mellow, calm, playful yes - but not unless you show signs of wanting to play with her, too.
She takes the abuse of being hissed at multiple times daily, swatted at - basically bullied all day long - by our 8yr old Russian Blue kitty and still watches hopefully from a distance.
She wants to be friends and she isn't afraid of the 'big mean gray monster' in her new home.

Having come from a house with 4 adult cats and as many siblings - she is VERY well acclimated to not being the center of attention.


I see her like I see Julian in that she is playful, independent and not as needy as her predecessors more than likely were.
Yet she IS still young and needs 'guidance'.
Like even though she keeps her distance, when our older cat gets in trouble, say for sneaking into the room where the kittens food dish is and eating it all and she is being hunted down by me yielding a watter bottle set to stream' for long distance shooting - she still is part of the chase.
Which cost her, getting in front of me and said bottle - a spritzing, a couple times.


Gray kitty is obviously acting out.
The only reason I even act upon the hissing, is that it quicky turns into pouncing and big cat outweighs baby cat by at least 10 pounds.
Even though the adult is declawed and the baby isn't, she still has many more advantages on her side, should a battle commence.



This morning was not a good one, by way of the cats - sadly due to Julian.
He has developed this problem with lying.
It is almost always to avoid doing something or to avoid getting in trouble (never understood the irony in that ) - but nevertheless, it has surfaced.
I don't like it and want to nip it in the bud now, yet I am not quite sure how.
The only experience I have with a child lying, is in the teen years.
VERY different techniques required, very different circumstances are at the cause of the lying - but isn't the root the same? Avoidance?


Julian woke up early to have computer time before getting ready for school.
Which is fine in itself.
However, I am to be asked first - so that I can make sure the morning routine is being followed.
Which includes the rule to feed the animals ASA you wake up.
Well, the kitten is still novel, so he fed her.
However, the dog and grown cat are old news, so they were ignored.
When I woke and started getting him geered towards breakfast, I noticed the pack of poptarts on the table next to him.
Now on weekends, this is fine.
We tend to eat 'brunch' rather than breakfast and lunch, when there is nothing going on, on our Sat./Sun. schedules. And a 'snack' does nothing to their appetites a couple hours later.
But M-F we barely have the time to eat breakfast, etc. - before it is time to leave - so ONLY breakfast is allowed.
I explained this and removed the poptarts, which led to a huge explosion.
He was given a warning, that he totally ignored and continued raging about wanting the poptarts.
So, the computer was removed from the equation.
This led to more problems.


Now the afore mentioned issue about the gray kitty eating the kittens food?
Well, that all was explained, when through all the screaming, crying and yelling - it was discovered that


a) Julian lied to me about having fed ALL the animals, when asked and


b) He also tried to convince me that he didn't need to ask to use the computer because it had been left on all night.
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, uh that would be a BIG FAT LIE!!!!!!
I know this, because I was so very, very tired and it was taking FOREVER to shut it down, last night!


So now I am feeling guilty about chasing down the cat because of the food thing - but not because of the hissing thing. Nuh-uh, never guilty about that....
And the fact that Julian was the cause behind much of the mornings negativity - all because of lying - was NOT helped by the fact that I woke up with a very painful right foot and my day was headed off to a 'no muy bueno' start at 6:30 in the am!


I cut my heel a couple days ago,walking around barefoot and while the cut is healing nicely, the muscles in my foot, ankle and calve are so sore from walking on it oddly - that today it is hard to walk at all.
This means that my morning walk, which has been getting me the much needed 'mind freeing, thought clearing, Pandora radio listening' moments, each morning since school began - won't be happening today and yes, that makes me pissy!
:o(

Eventually, I got him to school after a quick shower and throwing on a long beach coverup lounger thingy (I always get dressed in walking clothes and shoes, when I take him to school - so this led to him asking where was I going?, 'cause I was wearing a 'dress' - and Lord knows THAT does not happen very often at ALL!).
I had to explain that due to a little boys lies, EVERYONE was inconvenienced, this morning!
From kitty to mom, who had no time for HER usual routine!



So after having a Slimfast bar and a bottle of water - trying so hard to be good and healthier - for breakfast, here I sit looking at the clock and realizing that in another 15 minutes, I will be off again.


I now add 'personal driver' to my resume - as my husbands car has died and we are 'One Car-ing'
it. I hate it, It sucks. And we can't financially afford to do anything about it.
I drive him to work every morning, then pick him up every evening.
I deal with traffic and horrible drivers at rush hours everyday and I don't even have a job!!!!
And meanwhile, my husband - which is a whole OTHER entry of frustration - gets to be driven to and from, like some freaking celebrity - riding in the back seat (still part of that other entry) of our Durango, stretched out and kicking back, away from the intense summer heat permeating through the front windshield.


Since Julian has to be picked up from the Boys and Girls Club where he goes M-F directly after school, and has soccer practice 2x a week - AND I have to run all the 'family errands' such as grocery shopping, bank trips, bill paying, putting gas in the car, etc. - there is no way that I can tell him to take the car.
It seems that the only chance to do this is on Sundays when there is nothing planned.
And on those rare occasions - I live for the chance to lounge around in my jammies and either sleep in, read or watch tv undisturbed - for as long as that may be.

So for now, back to my roles of being family manager, disciplinarian (aka: The Bad Guy), cook, personal shopper and NOW, limo driver. And even though I am home most of the day with the cats, the teenager (another entry...) and the heat - at least I can feel better that , I made an entry in you blog - and maybe if I get a chance - maybe even might add another, just to catch up!

Hasta luego.

Lost: Two weeks of avoiding chairs

I find myself feeling guilty over the missing days that I did not post an entry.
Lying in bed, in pain and discomfort - makes the past 2 weeks - a blur.
If it weren't for my laptop as a connection to the world, I would have lost it for sure.

In the past 20 years or so, I have learned all about chronic pain and how to live with it.
The past 7 years have been amazingly easy, compared to the 4 years prior to them.

When Brendan was 2 yrs old (1994) my oldest brother John and I were were dropping him off at my mother in laws, to babysit him while I went off to my part time job.
While waiting at a red light, we were struck from behind and forced out into the middle of the intersection.
It was by the grace of God, that the light had JUST turned green for the oncoming traffic to turn left - AND that the oncoming vehicle was taking off from a stopped position, rather than approaching the turn in motion.
The impact totalled my little old station wagon, Brendan was scared, but not hurt thanks to his car seat - my brother John had a sore knee, that was rammed into the door handle and I - unfortunately - happened to be looking in my rear view mirror as the large commercial truck that hit us, approached.
So of course, I tensed up and the impact from behind forced me into the steering wheel and the seat belt across my chest did it's job like an iron bar forced against and across my upper torso.

Afterwards I shook it off, nervous about being late to work - filed the necessary info, dropped Brendan off at his grandma's - all on sheer adrenaline.
After a couple hours at work, it became apparent that my neck and back were starting to really ache badly.
I left and from then on, I can't begin to describe the ranges of pain I have felt over the years.
Neurologists, orthopedists, no one was ever able to make diagnosing or physical therapy - a positive thing.
So many MRI's and nerve conduction tests - all accompanied by YEARS of pain, numbness and discomfort - and a future with 2 herniated discs to keep me through my golden years...

Finally about 10 years ago, I discovered simultaneous acupuncture and chiropractic treatments offered the best relief.
Which have given me years of virtually pain free memories.

Once in a blue moon, however - it reoccurs in way that knocks the air out of me.
And this is what happened 2 weeks ago.

I lost a week of my life, laying in pain - in my bed.
And of course when MOM is the sick one, who takes care of her?
My husband went to work as usual.
And since I couldn't drive - he took the car.
Leaving me home alone with both boys, since Julian wasn't able to get to the Boys and Girls Club in the afternoons.
This of course, initiated many fights, squabbles and spats - between them - and me lying in my room, screaming at the top of my lungs to KNOCK IT OFF! - but really, how much of a threat is a woman who can't get out of bed?
Meals consisted of yogurt and anything that did not require cooking at the stove.
It was the longest week of my life...

The following week, of which today is day 7 (overall 14) - has been much better - as long as I don't sit.
Sadly, this includes driving, as well.
So driving my spouse to work - each morning at the exact same light - the pain starts.
And by the time I get home, I am heading straight for the ice pack.
I do everything to avoid sitting - which includes laying on my stomach on my bed to use my laptop.
When it is time to once again pick UP my husband at work, I have moved around enough during the day - that the ride is bearable.
Bedtime needs ibuprofen, ice or heat - and LOTS of pillows.

I have made it this far, so I suppose I can continue along this vein.
HOWEVER, I have yard work that needs to be done, cleaning that needs my attention and a fridge that is in desperate need of my care.
Julian hasn't had me to get him out there to practice for soccer and his new season of AYSO - starts with practice tomorrow.
We have to shop for cleats and chin pads by Thursday and the next two weekends bring with them back to back birthday parties of close friends of his - which means shopping for gifts, as well.

I need to get better NOW and can only hope, my discs are listening....and willing to cooperate.
Peace, Love and No Pain.

The Comfort of Comfort Foods

A short entry today, as for the past 2 days I have been laid up with back spasms.
More nerve, actually - as the pain travels down my legs and burns. Ow.

It is always hard, when 'Mom' is sick or laid up for any reason.
However in THIS house, where 'Mom does All' and 'All does Mom' - it is especially chaotic.
Where I am expected to take care of everything every other day - my 'sick days' are met with much resistance and attitude, for others to pick up the slack.
The dishes pile up in the sink, the fridge begins to look more 'spacious' and things like toilet paper and paper towels have a mysterious way of suddenly running low or completely out.
Meals consist mostly of microwavable frozen foods, snacks and cold cereal.
Sadly, this is always the time when I crave a home cooked meal.
Which can obviously NOT happen, if the chef is out of commission.

Taking the otc meds we happen to have - and not the otc meds that work (and we happen to be out of) just prolongs my recovery.
But today the 'good stuff' was brought in and I am feeling a bit more flexible, a bit less painful and the most aware have felt in a few days.

I am proud to say that while his cooking experience and skills are limited, Brendan made Cinnamon Chip Muffins this morning for everyone and is making his own dinner on the stovetop, tonight.
More than I can say for my husband - who always has been one to fill up on snacks, instead of actually figuring out a meal to prepare.
Makes it really hard, when I am immobile - since he only gets those snacks for himself.
I still need to remind someone, ANYONE - to feed the 7 yr old and end up having trail mix for dinner, myself. Or leftovers up to 3 days old, if I am lucky enough to find some.

I have to say here, that these times I really notice how my heart aches for my mom and gramma - who when I was growing up - fed everything from cold to fever - with favorite comfort foods.
And illness was as much of a motivator for them to cook up a storm - as a party.
Maybe some of you know what I am talking about.
To those I ask - what was YOUR favorite comfort food 'sick meal'?

To this day - as to this exact moment, actually - I still crave mine.
Hamburger patty's and mashed potatoes helped me through everything from pulled teeth - to walking pneumonia.
And whether I could taste it or not - always made me 'feel better' - just seeing it on the lap tray, that they would bring me in bed.
Was it the love that they prepared it with? Or the way my mom could make even simple and bland food, taste wonderful?
Maybe it was just the fact that on those nights, I knew she was there - in the kitchen and close by should I need her.
Maybe it was that on those nights, there would be no PTA meetings, tupperware party's or visiting friends.
Maybe it was that on those nights - my otherwise not very affectionate mother - was hugging me and giving me attention in her most giving and caring way: in the kitchen.
The sounds of the kitchen, the scents warmly filling the air throughout the house...
And for once - I was the top priority on her list and no one else could override that.
Maybe because those were the nights - I felt MOST loved.

I really want mashed potatoes and a hamburger patty, right now.
But only if it is served by my mom...

Rest in Peace, Mom.

Frances Olga Salgado

December 7th, 1927 - December 12th, 1995

What we start off as - and what we become...

I really miss not working.
Even though I was raised in the 'Suzy Homemaker' generation of Barbara Billingsly cleaning and cooking in high heels, perfectly coiffed hair and an apron without stains - I was not 'trained' in the art of domestics.

I was never taught to cook, clean or do household chores.

Partly because my mother firmly believed I would 'marry up' and not need those types of skills - and partly because my mom was a control freak and didn't want anyone else tending to 'her' things.

Unfortunately, being the odd man out of my generation - as the only girl of 4 kids, I was raised to be a princess, but was born with the heart of an adventurer.

I remember my mom constantly yelling at me throughout the house to 'stop running like a horse and walk like a young lady!'.

I remember not being allowed to wear pants - only dresses and frilly lace socks.

And getting dirty was not EVEN a possibility!

My mom was not perfectly spotless, when it came to house cleaning - but she was still the victim of the dreaded Plastic Furniture Cover disease.

Still cringe at the memory of sitting on our sectional sofa, which was blue underneath the thick, clear vinyl which inevitably stuck to my legs - in a scratchy crinoline, under a lacy dress - peering longingly out the window at my brothers playing football, relay racing and riding their bikes - in front of our house.

And with them? Our neighbor 'Judy' who was lucky enough to be a tomboy, with parents who allowed her to be.

I was DYING to be out there, having fun, running like the wind and for ONCE, being an equal to my much older brothers.

But it wasn't meant to be.

My only consistent playmates were my dolls and stuffed animals.

Occasionally my elders and sadly, my brother who was 3.5 years older than me.

A vicious, lying and conniving little person who grew up to be a vicious, lying and conniving BIG person, and is now dubbed 'he who shall not be named' by yours truly.

I truly believe that children should be allowed to be WHO they are, not who they SHOULD be.

For those born into a famly with specific roles needing to be carried out - my heart goes out to them. Whether it be birth order or the parents who decide this - it is very deflating to go against your nature to be what is expected of you, rather than what dreams you may secretly carry in your heart.

Which is why when my amazing daughter decided that going to college to get a degree in Child Psychology, to work with emotionally handicapped children - WASN'T her true calling, I didn't truly hold it against her.

Oh I will not say I wasn't disappointed!

Nor will I go so far as to say it didn't take me a while to get used to this change of 'life plans'.

I felt my heart deflate a couple sizes, for sure.

But she needed to be Lauren - and I had to admire her conviction to discover just who this beautiful creature was...

After all - I didn't hook up with the rich doctor, lawyer or heir apparent that my mom was sure I would - so who was I to judge?

Like all parents, I truly just wanted my girl to be happy.
And these days, I am pretty sure she is.
Thank you Willie, for making my Blue Star Shine...

Thinking back, I wouldn't say I was a bookworm as a kid - but yeah, I was always reading.

I pulled good grades and felt that school was truly the only place that I was allowed to be myself.

I chose the aesthetics - music, theatre and art - to get involved in because it made me feel all tingly inside and held such amazement to me.

My heart was already that of an artist and I hadn't even found a preferred medium!
Was there any doubt in my mind that I would pass some of this connection on to my children? None.

So when my daughter asked to attend the San Diego School of Creative and Performing Arts without so much as ever having set foot on stage in a costume, my heart leapt with joy!

It was a ground breaking experience for her - opening up a world that she had not yet encountered.

I hope she holds fond memories of her high school years there - while there were no atletic team events or games - I am pretty sure the shows and other performances, were equally exciting for her.

I know that Brendan loves to make people laugh - as much as he enjoys doing so himself.

But for his anxieties and self esteem issues - in another world, he may very well have persued a career in comedy.

In this world however, he prefers to observe and laugh from his seat, within his comfort zone.

And that's okay too.

Those alternate realities aren't always all that they are cracked up to be - just watch Fringe!

Julian, however - may be the one to go a bit further.

Sure, it helps that he is the drama king of the family **wink-wink**...

But with his imagination, it will be more than a shame - yes sir, a downright travesty of justice - if that child does not hop up on a stage somewhere - if only to grandstand a student election!

How many kids do you know that want to grow up to be a soccer playing, doctor, policeman, actor and fireman?!?!?

Could he find any OTHER occupations to throw in there that are NOT something that would put him in the spotlight and give him major attention?!?!?
He cracks me up, truly.

He makes shows for me - as I remember doing for my great-aunt and grandparents.
He makes up songs and storys, acts them out and has created a castle underneath our dining room table where our kitty magically transforms into her majesty, Queen of the Castle.

Later, he produces the Kitten Beautiful Winten Show - where he serves as the barker/promoter and collects imaginary pennies from 'one and all', to attend.

"Come on folks! Don't be scared - don't be shy! It's JUST a cat show!" he announces as he rides his scooter throughout the house - promising koolaid and popcorn to those who attend.

The whole point of this entry into my blog, is about acceptance, really.

I am not domestic by nature.

Keeping a clean, picked up house and three meals prepared and on the table, (not to mention keeping the table cleared off in the first place!) is more challenging to me than assisting a Program Director on a multi million dollar airport contract.

I have done both and let me tell you - being a Domestic Engineer is downright brutal!

I have yet to accept my role of the last 10 years - or for that matter - the woman I have become.

I don't hesitate to accept that my boys are on the spectrum, that my daughter has become a living canvas for the breathtaking talent of her husbands hand - or that my husband won't ever be more than a cashier in a club warehouse.

My disclainmer here is that you don't have to like or agree with something - to actually accept it.

I read today, that envy is a waste of energy.

I agree - but that doesn't mean my stomach doesn't drop when I hear of someone achieving what were once my plans and dreams - that were somehow erased from my life's blueprint, which I so painstakingly created.

I am not a mean or heartless person.

I DO honestly feel happy for those who can accomplish their goals and dreams.

Isn't that what makes this country so special?

However in the same light, I feel let down (by myself) and inconsequential, when I look at where I am at this point in my life.

I truly never envisioned being who and where I am today - at 50.

It is at times heartbreaking, others ironic - and most of the time confusing.

In my head I hear David Byrnes voice singing the lyrics from the Talking Heads song 'Once in a Lifetime' - "How did I get here?!?!........"

"Letting the days go by....let the water hold me down....."

Good Saturday night all.

The Heat, Earthquakes and doing what is best for your children

In this area, by mid to late July - we have already had our share of high 80's - low triple digits.

This year was exceptionally kind and our first triple digit day was this week.

This afternoon, we had some clouds, a moment or so of rain and the heat has dropped into the 80's.

I won't complain, it could have been so much worse!

Just like the plague of earthquakes SoCal residents have been privvy to, as of late.

Part of me cracks up (no pun intended!) every time someone rushes to Facebook and posts 'OMG! Did you feel that??!?' with an underlying tone of panic.

As a native Californian, I have grown up with earthquakes.

I am honestly - just a bit de-sensitized to the experience.

My thoughts are - if nothing is falling off walls, or the crystal in my hutch is not tinkling - it isn't anything to get all worked up about.

However, that is my gut reaction.

After a few seconds, I start to think about how it is affecting my kids.

Should it get worse, what exactly am I supposed to DO with them?

I would never panic in front of them - but at the same time, my ignorance on how to proceed in a serious situation - causes hesitation and uncertainty.

Are you REALLY supposed to stand in a doorway? I thought I read to go under a strong table? Is outside truly safer than inside? What about falling electrical lines?

See? I can stir up a good panic, just like the next person!
As always, the analytical side of me see's a lesson in this.

Should we panic when something begins to 'rock our world' - or wait until the damage has truly set in to react?

Julian and Dilly have anger issues.
Not acceptable, but more understandable in a 7 yr old with ADHD and a light dose of Aspergers.

However, when I was dating my husband, I remember how he would tell me with pride how he hadn't lost his temper in a long time, well over a year - and how proud he was of the fact.

Should have been a red flag.

If someone has an issue so bad, that he has to work so very hard to suppress it - brags about it - and then with the first healthy dose of the 'real world' looses it all again, they need help.

I used to laugh when his family would tell me story's of a very volatile and angry Dilly - the child.

Always getting into fights, getting spanked, punished and doing it all over again.

That is, until we had Julian.

I was such a quiet kid (never would've guessed it knowing me now!), scared to death of upsetting or disappointing anyone - ESPECIALLY my parents.

If I did something that did not please them, the disappoinment on their faces, would hurt a million times worse than any spanking they could have given me.

I was actually only spanked on the bottom, once as a child - after scaring my parents half to death, by sneaking out at 5am on a Saturday morning to go next door to my neighbors house, so that we would be ASSURED a long enough day of playing.

THE one and only time my dad took me over his knee.

And 44 years later, I still remember it as if it were yesterday.

My pride hurting much more than my bottom.

My daughter Lauren was a very good child.

Very mature, sensible and well behaved.

Brendan was very quiet and only showed his temper when met with a truly horrific task at hand - such as having to take medicines for chronic ear infections or brushing his teeth.

The taste and texture was sheer torture to him, but many times we literally had to pin him down or sit on him, to get the meds down his throat - or his teeth clean.

Thank God he outgrew the ear infections around age 6.

The teeth issues stayed around MUCH longer...

From birth, we could see that Julian was going to be a handful.

He wasn't a difficult baby - but from the beginning, I think the word Extreme, was the best way to describe him.

As a toddler, his temper became apparent and it also grew with him.
The rage behind his tantrums, seemed Super Sized for a child so small.

As he became increasingly difficult to handle - a distance began to grow between him and my husband.

Brendan too, began to avoid him more.

While this created a closeness between my youngest son and myself - it was a huge responsibility. Being his sole cargiver, I was basically transformed into a single parent.

When it was solely my responsibility to get him through these times, I found that letting the explosion die it's own natural death, was the best way of handling him.

Just making sure that he was somewhere that he could not hurt himself, or anyone or anyTHING in the process.

It was hard for me, watching him, hearing him - and at time's sitting cross legged on my bed with him in my lap in a 'spooning' type of bear hug - until he would finally collapse in sheer exhaustion, limp in my arms and drenched in tears and sweat.

I had no clue then, that more of this was inherited than I would have ever imagined.

His extreme emotions are very hard for Dilly and Brendan to be around and deal with.

Their lack of involvement in his day to day activities because of the meltdowns, eventually became triggers for these very same tantrums.

So yes, with Julian - I was gradually exposed to what would become the major issue of his childhood - and will more than likely, be something he will have to deal with his entire life - to one degree or another.

Just as his father does to this day.

With the hard also comes the easy, though.

This child was ALL imagination!

He could entertain himself for hours out in our small backyard, with rocks, a ball and a table!

My daughter was too mature for her own good, refusing to play pretend for the very fact that 'it was not REAL.'

And Brendan where I am sure he was capable of pretending inside his head - had a heck of a time letting any of that out, along with his thoughts and feelings.

Julian was 'my kid', in this respect, with the very persona of an artist.

Imaginative, energetic, creative, bright and charming.

His laughter infectuous, his smile engaging.

Naturally athletic, all that energy was perfect for running, climbing, swimming and playing ball.
He already showed a quickness that is sure to benefit any sport he should choose to play.

As of now, those choices are soccer, basketball and football.

The epitome of a social animal, loved by his teachers and never at a loss of playmates -

he has friends galore and makes new ones everywhere he goes.

His birthday party's always end up with MORE kids than we could ever plan for!

And a typical weekend has him traveling from one friends house to another - for swimming, dinner, games....

When he is good - he is amazing, sweet, funny and affectionate.

When he is bad.......oh boy.

He has verbally threatened to kill me, says he hates me and has destroyed his room in a matter of seconds with his rages.

Last year we started him on Strattera.

While getting the perfect dosage and administering it the best possible way, is a challenge - it HAS made a difference.

I hate you, I want to kill you has been replaced with 'You're a big meanie!' and 'I don't like you!"

Much more common things for a 6-7 yr old to say to the person laying down the law, no?

While we are far from being in control of this situation.

It is much closer - and can continue as long as his father does not enter the Discipline Mix.

That is the monkey wrench, in our machine, so to speak.

The two of them raging simultaneously is enough to send even the strongest person over the edge.

Brendan hides and I have to play referee - which I really, really hate.

So now, as with the earthquake - I am riding it out.
Hoping that I am doing the right thing by Julian.

Watching to see if he is learning the coping skills and lessons I am trying to teach him.

To see if, I need to take further action or just listen for the 'glass shaking'.

We could hide under something hoping it all goes away - but that would not help anyone.

By writing this, I am 'going outside' with it and taking my chances with the downed electrical lines.

Hoping and praying that I don't get burned or electrocuted and that the fault lines will continue to hold themselves together, while we live to see another day.

Have a good Friday!