Gretchen & Clancy

Saturday, December 29, 2007 by Jennifer Curran

Today was my first Paws in the Park walk. I signed up to volunteer at a local shelter and this is a great way to get your feet wet. Bad pun intended. Basically a group of people take the shelter dogs out for a walk at a local park for about an hour. I walked Gretchen. Gretchen is a little terrier who was hit by a car. She limped into these people's backyard where they thought it was okay to leave her outside in the snowstorm for 3 days before calling Animal Control. She sat outside in freezing temperatures after being hit by a car. For three days. These people KNEW she was out there, could probably hear her crying and they LEFT HER THERE.

I can't even begin to wonder....

Anyhow, Gretchen was a doll. She was a little scared in the car but as soon as she started walking with us, that chick could STRUT! She was all business and practically pranced her way around that park. I sort of melted when I saw her checking in with us. She would glance back as if to say, "So, this is right? I can just keep going then?" hahhaa. Great stuff. She was definitely looking for someone. Everyone we would walk by she would look and look to see if it was her person. No one ever called the shelters for her or inquired about a missing little gray, wire haired terrier, Toto look alike. She is so sweet and so gentle.

When we got back there was red flyer on her window: ADOPTED. An elderly couple was coming for her. Finally! The life she was meant to have is on its way. It feels great knowing that somewhere out there, Gretchen is lying on her new bed, with her new people loving her so much.

And of course, there are those who are still in the dark kennel tonight. Sleeping in a place where dogs bark and cry, where they are kept warm and fed. Hoping that they will be chosen next.

~~~~

I took Clancy out for a good walk today too. The boys were sleeping and the girls were just hanging out so we took off. He met a mailman who told me that his Golden was hit and killed by a car a few months ago. I told him about some of the dogs needing homes that I met today.... he was a nice guy. Hopefully he and his wife will go and check out the dogs who so desperately want to be loved. Clancy was a total showoff. He gave his right paw, then his left, then laid down on cue. And of course he jumped up and hugged him. It was pretty funny.

OH! On our way home we had to cross the street at a busy intersection. I hold Clancy pretty close when we do this and his cue is "with me" so he knows he needs to be right with me. We're crossing and for some reason the guy at the red light rolled his window down and sort of snapped his head out the window and yelled, "NICE DOG!!" Well, my nice dog is also my nice protector. He didn't like that guy getting close to me. He snapped HIS head around and growled and barked in a pretty intimidating way. He never tried to pull on his leash, he just gave a warning. He put his head right back inside his car!! I can't imagine what my boy would have done had that idiot tried to come near us. Clancy just wasn't liking that guy. Which for him is very, very strange. He likes everyone. A lot. Everywhere. Typical Golden: I love everyone, just stay away from my family please! I'm working here!!!

Enough rambling about dogs!!! I am tired and am going to sleep!!


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Most excellent clip

Thursday, December 27, 2007 by Jennifer Curran



Coraline. Waiting with foot tapping, pencil rolling, nail biting patience.

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Welcome home

Wednesday, December 26, 2007 by Jennifer Curran

video

A dear friend of our family threw a welcome home party for her son. Travis just finished his 3rd tour in Iraq with the Marine Corps. This is a small video I just edited together of his his party. Its a little rough still, but coming along.

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First Practical Joke

by Jennifer Curran

A little conversation between my sons:

Seth: BP (Seth speak for JP), bump my head. Ow-ch.

JP: (laughs then bumps his head on crib rail) Seth! Head hurts!

Seth: (whacks his head on his headboard) BP, bump my head. Hurts. Don't do that!

JP: Seth, you funny! You bump a head and OW!

Seth: BP don't bump a head! Ouch. Need a bandage.

JP: Mommy! Seth a bandage please! Mommmmyyyyyy! Help Please!

Seth: Mommy! JP bumped a head! Help please!

Seth and JP: (laugh hysterically to this very misguided attempt at a practical joke)

I don't get it either, but this was so funny they carried on for about 30 minutes whacking their own heads on various parts of their bed or books or whatever. It ended when I put a band-aid on each of their hands. Why their hands you ask?? Because that's where they wanted them. Whenever they have a boo boo the band-aid is placed on their hand rather than on the actual boo boo. Why? Why not.


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Its over

by Jennifer Curran

Can I exhale now? Well that was insanity. Here's a quick recap:

December 23rd I shopped. The 24th I finished.

I was supposed to have the whole clan here for Christmas dinner. A plumbing issue meant a change of venue. And I need to replace my toilet. Nice.

The 24th I:

1. Finished shopping

2. Did groceries

3. Bathed, fed and changed boys.

4. Aaron worked.

5. Loaded up van for almost 30 minutes straight.

6. Clancy gets loose. I drive around Springfield for over an hour frantically searching for him while the sun sets. I ask every hooker and drug dealer and nice person and police officer if they have seen a "big, goofy golden retriever who is probably looking lost and scared but excited at the same time". I got funny looks, but it worked. Found him. Running down a main road (State Street for you locals) and darting in and out of traffic. I leap out of my van and run down State Street myself calling, "CLANCY! CLANCY! COME HERE BOY! COME ON!" I was panicked and looked like a total lunatic. He bolted right for me and almost got hit by a car. His celebratory leap into mid-air and my arms almost knocked me over. The two Bloods standing on the corner of State and Hancock clapped for us. Its nice to see the gang members represent for this white lady. "Now that's a damn lucky ass dog right there." They so generously offered. Thanks guys... totally down with that. (insert cheesy thumb up and wink here)

7. I get into my van and cry like a little girl. I cried and cried. I was so scared and so completely stressed out I just lost it. I felt like I was crying for the whole year. The whole shitty 2007. Worst year I think. I couldn't get it under control. I hugged Clancy so tightly. Sometimes it really feels like he's the only one consistently by my side. I know its crazy... but physically he is there with me when I'm at my worst and my best. His soft fur has caught so many tears lately. He's a good boy that one.

8. Arrive at mom's house. Whole family is there celebrating. Food everywhere and people laughing. I am on the very edge of losing it still. I tell my story and get the distinct impression that they really didn't get the panic I felt. Its fine, most people don't understand my devotion to Clancy. Sometimes I don't even get it. I crack open a cold Sam and let it all roll off. Deep breath, Jenn. This is fun right?! My sister insists on singing on camera "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" to my brother in Florida. I resist and hold the camera. It was horrifyingly corny.
We shall never speak of this again.

9. Gifts are exchanged, kids are happy. And by kids I mean my parents. My father for the past 30 years starts calling us in November with "This year - lots of little gifts." or "Hey, this year, one gift so big it doesn't fit through the door." Well, he got huge this year. We bought him this awesome recliner for old people: easy to get out of, easy to recline and sit up. The box was so big it didn't fit in the house. We had to take it out of the box and bring it in that way.

*I got a gift too. We pick names in my family because there are so many of us. This year my nephew Pat bought for Aaron and I. But my SIL Sharon came to me with a tiny bag and handed it to me. It was an Angel's worry stone. It was so touching and so sweet. I have had it in my pocket since. Funny how these things can take you by surprise. It means so much to me.

10. Beer and wine going down nicely, we settle around the dining room table and listen to Christmas music. My father sings and suddenly Christmas is here. Silent Night, Holy Night... he sang to Seth who was sitting in my lap. Last night I asked him if his Grandpa sings nice to him and he tilted his head and sang, "silent night, santa night. Papa is key-ute!"

We left about 10:30pm. Walked through my front door and Aaron was there. He'd been home for about a half hour and managed to wash dishes, sweep, vacuum and other terrific things. We sent all the kiddos to bed and wrapped gifts and did all that Stuff until almost 2am.

Christmas morning: Autumn and Danielle are up at 7:30am. Before the boys. About 30 minutes later they came upstairs and basically said, "Mom! We're not waiting anymore!!"

And they didn't. They carried Seth and JP down the stairs. And with such excitement they pointed out the presents and how awesome Santa was for bringing them. They had so much fun!!

It was exactly how I imagined it. Or how I remember it.

Lovely day after a pretty crazy Eve. I can't wait to say goodbye to you 2007. Something's gotta give.

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Mom's gift

Sunday, December 23, 2007 by Jennifer Curran

December 23rd. Christmas Eve Eve. I'm not done my shopping, my cleaning, never sent out my Christmas cards. My house is still not painted inside. My daughter's bedroom is a total disaster area. We're using bill money for gifts. Stressed out a bit. Trying to keep it balanced, keep it in perspective. I've been through harder times, but I didn't really know there was another way back then.

Growing up we went through some lean times. I remember when we were kids we would dress in front of an open stove to keep warm. I remember macaroni dinners with crushed tomatoes. We thought it was mom's specialty and ate it with bread and butter. I remember my mom standing by the kitchen sink, watching us eat. I thought she was busy, but now I think she was not eating so we would have enough. She never mentioned this to me, but I've had to do the same before. I know what it means to hope that they don't quite finish everything on their plates so I could eat too.

The other day I had a conversation with my sister Lisa about the harder times growing up. She remembered these times with more details than I.

My parents created a home that always felt safe, secure. I only have fun memories of my childhood. Our house felt warm and my thoughts of childhood don't include the cold. I don't remember winter as anything other than sledding, snowmen and Christmas caroling with the neighborhood kids. Hot chocolate and mini marshmallows.

So maybe we didn't get piles of presents under the tree. Maybe we didn't get a closet full of clothes for school. My mom made sure that the gift we got was one that would last a lifetime. She made sure that whatever problems existed stayed adult problems. I have no idea if my parents ever fought. I don't know if my mom ever felt anything other than joy in parenting five kids and holding the house together on a shoestring budget. I don't know if she, like me, ever sat at a kitchen table with bills in order by shutoff date. I imagine she must have. But her lifelong gift to her kids was to never let any of us know.

Occasionally she will say something about those days to us, but its usually just a sentence or two. And she ends with, "We made it through and you will too."

She's always right.





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Click the picture: caution doggie porn.

Saturday, December 22, 2007 by Jennifer Curran

Photobucket

We're off to the dog park tomorrow!! That's my Clancy, in the middle of the hump fest. He is blonde and bad azz isn't he? Poor Napolean and Bentley. All Clance does is hump these guys.

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And we're back.

Friday, December 21, 2007 by Jennifer Curran

Well, this is big news. I'm pregnant. Sorry, it just seem like everytime I hear "big news" that's usually what comes next.

We went to the doc today for JP's evaluation. She really doesn't think he has Autism. Here's what she had to say:

Basically because he was premature and a twin his nervous system is immature. This explains the previous diagnosis as Sensory Processing Disorder. Now SPD isn't an axis I diagnosis so that means he wouldn't qualify for special needs care or increased therapy. So she wrote a letter asking the EI team to re-evaluate him and use his prematurity and delayed speech as the catalyst to get him more than twice a week therapy.

She said that he is a sensitive boy and could have some attention deficiencies as well. Only time will tell. We are doing the right thing by not taking him into situations or places that could set him off. Places like the mall, busy grocery stores, and a class of 2 year olds. This is why he has such difficulty at daycare. He is in a small class and they do try to split the kids up into two rooms for part of the day.... but being around 6 little ones is hard for him.

I'm a bit surprised at my reaction. I thought being able to point at an ASD diagnosis would get us closer to "healing" him. I had a treatment plan in my head. And now it isn't ASD (which is good). But I'm back to where I was.... sort of waiting for him to outgrow this. To learn how to speak better and deal with his emotions better. In the meantime he just screams??

I am relieved that he will be okay one day. I just wish I could push him there somehow. Its hard to describe it I guess. I just thought that with an ASD "label" he could get bumped into high gear right away somehow. More therapies, a one to one, and help for his teachers on dealing with him. I think I'll call the EI team and put some pressure on. Maybe I can start going to his appointments at his daycare and learn some things.

So good news, yes. But I can't help but feel like I'm back at square one again.


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Sammi's new life

by Jennifer Curran


I got a Christmas card today from the family that adopted Sammi. Is she fabulous or what?? Talk about the perfect family for this gentle girl. It doesn't get much better.

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Is it just me?

Thursday, December 20, 2007 by Jennifer Curran

Or is The Practice the worst piece of pooh on the tv? I mean, I almost would rather watch that insipid Choir battle show. Almost.

Every time I see something this bad it just makes so pissed off all over again that Black Donnelly's was canceled. I can't move pass that. It was so great. Good times.

Today I went to my daughter's school for a holiday lunch.It was pretty cool hanging out with just Danielle. We don't get to do that so much anymore. I was struck with her awkwardness. She is very self-conscious. She had her winter coat on, zipped up to her chin and kept pulling her hair into her face. I wish she could see herself the way the world sees her. She is so beautiful and so kind. Her lack of self confidence makes her suspect other kids and she doesn't make friends very easily. She and her sister are night and day. Autumn is the sort of kid who likes herself just fine. She is secure in herself enough to not always feel like she has to go with the grain. In fact she is pretty proud of the ways she is different from others. I wish some of that could rub off onto Danielle.

Danielle goes to school where her father and I went. A lot of people we went to school with have kids Danielle's age, so going to these things is like a mini class reunion. One of the biggest party-ers (I think this might be a local word?) from back in the day was there. He is now sort of chunky, balding, and was wearing dockers with a fricking Izod shirt. Izod. This is the same dude who wore G 'n R t-shirts, ripped black acid wash jeans, work boots and a beat up leather jacket every day of his life. My mind pictures him lighting up a smoke in math class. Though I'm pretty sure that didn't happen. Fricking Izod! And it was this lime green color. I was horrified looking at him. It was like a bad Halloween costume.

It makes me wonder which one is the real Him? Like maybe in the 80s he was dying inside wearing all that black. And maybe trying to get detention wasn't his biggest priority?? Is he wearing Izod because he missed it the first time around? Or is he dying inside now, aching for the heavy comfort of an old leather jacket? Does he still listen to Appetite for Destruction when the kids aren't in the van? Can he still shotgun a beer in less than 3 seconds? Does his wife know who he used to be? Will he one day tell his kids how he could start a bonfire in the middle of the woods with nothing more than a collapsed case of beer cardboard and a cigarette butt?

In opposite world I also saw the former hottie looking, well, nottie. Hair was still permed, bangs poofed up over the forehead. Harsh red lips slashed across a heavily lined face, nails filed to sharp points. The burnt orange hair frozen in time, trying to look like 1989 blonde. I had no doubt in my mind that her cassette player still held a Motley Crue tape, copied no doubt from a friend's. Nothing says cutting edge like a double decker boom box with a Compact Disc player on top to boot.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror trying to see if I look as old as they did. If I do I'll never admit it. Somewhere out there today maybe someone saw me and was all, "MMMm... gguuuurrrrl. You are not going to believe who I saw today. Jenn C - and damn if she didn't get fat!" I have no idea why I just wrote that as if I went to school with someone who wasn't white. This gurl went to Whitey Central. Straight up.

Peace out ya'll.... (hey, I live in the city now, I'm bad ass).




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Elf Yourself

by Jennifer Curran

Its so strange. I'm getting all these hits on my site from my Elf Yourself posts. So odd. Are all these people looking at my sisters and I doing some sort of strange Elf dance?

The strangest searches lead people to my blog. The other biggie is my TIAA-CREF rant.

I wish more people would stumble upon this post.

Or maybe this one or this one.

But no, they google Elf Yourself and Voila! Welcome to Sum>Parts.

Very odd to me how this whole internets thingy works.


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Another one

Wednesday, December 19, 2007 by Jennifer Curran

Second day in a row without a major meltdown. I'm not putting a lot of hope into tomorrow, they just fell asleep at like 10:30. Totally my fault, rehearsal went later than planned. But still... two days in row?? Amazing.

Not sure if its the dairy free diet or lack of sugar and McDonalds or a combination of everything. Hmmmm... maybe after another week I'll give him a slice of cheese with lunch and see if his head spins around a few times or whatever?


So tired. So freaking tired. My body is killing me tonight. The theatre was about 60 degrees and we froze! More tomorrow.


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Tuesday, December 18, 2007 by Jennifer Curran


I just hope the movie is this funny.

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A very good day.

by Jennifer Curran

JP had not just a good day but a GREAT day today. Not ONE tantrum/fit/meltdown. Nada. We went shopping before going home - break in the routine usually means bad things - and he was so funny and silly!! It was fantastic.

Not sure if it was the phase of the moon, a fluke, or from the new diet. I don't care. I'll just say thank you and look forward to it happening again sometime.

But it sure is encouraging...


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Finding it

by Jennifer Curran



Thanks Chevy. We're turning the music up, we're dancing in the living room and we're going to do some things differently.

First of all... I'm taking a big giant step back. The label will serve its purpose for my son. It will give him access to the treatments that will help him. This is good. Here's the new plan:

*I will continue the dairy free and then add the gluten free component of his diet.

*I will read the daycare logs on Friday afternoons only. I will not take copies and pour over them at night trying to find a pattern. There isn't one. Done. I will simply use this tool to measure the success of the diet and then the therapy.

*I will let the specialists do their jobs.

*I will not spend hours on the internet reading other people's stories, successes, and failures.

*I will let my son be himself and never tell anyone that he is autistic. The only people who know (well, other than the readers here) will be his caregivers and his family.

*I will not keep a mental diary about his tantrums and what I should try next time, what works, what doesn't.

*I will be a mother of 4. I will love each of them in my own imperfect, stumbling, hate to cook and clean slacker mom way.

*I will start my Christmas shopping today. Hopefully.

No more. No more posts about my anger or frustration. You won't get it. I won't dwell on it. Because life is fricking short. Because there are such worse fates. Because I have a good life and I have people around me who love me. Because we all made it through this shitty, stupid year. Because 2007 is almost gone and good things are coming our way. We've survived and we all love each other still. My brothers, my sisters, my nieces and nephews are all here still. We're a bit worse for the wear, some of us a bit shaken and looking a little worn... but we're here. My parents are here and they have been through the mill this past 12 months.

And now we say goodbye to it. And we move and we breathe and we love each other. We forgive. We look ahead and shrug it off. Because we're Currans. And that is what matters.

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Pissed off sort of, not really. Well. Maybe.

Monday, December 17, 2007 by Jennifer Curran

Eventually, I'm going to have to break down and start my Christmas shopping. Every stupid year I wait and wait and then run around like a mad woman. Today was a crazy, busy day. I am switching JP's Early Intervention team to the area where he goes to daycare. I had the intake today.

I found out that his pediatrician can give her diagnosis as autism spectrum disorder and it will step him up to another level of care. This could mean a 1:1 for daycare which would be fantastic. The big challenge is that he turns 3 in a few months and at that point all his EI services end. Normally kids would go to preschool for a few hours and then those that need daycare would finish out their day in an autistic-centered daycare center. This would mean that I would have JP in Springfield and Seth in South Hadley. I don't want my sons going to the Springfield schools AT ALL. But I don't know if he could do school choice because of his "special needs". The intake person I spoke to today had no answer on this front.

I'm getting really annoyed with the "Um, I don't know." answers. I asked about how we're treating him and if we should be handling things differently. The conversation tends to go like this:

When my son does his freak out do I walk away like I would a normal 2 year old? At what point is this not effective or safe?

I'm not sure.

If I treat him differently am I spoiling him and creating an even bigger monster? Where is the balance at?

Great question. I'll bring it up at our team meeting and get back to you. (This is code for "who freaking knows lady")


When he is tearing at his hair and/or trying to bite me should I try to hug him until he stops? Keep my distance? Place him in a padded cage?

Gee, I don't really know.

WTF?! I'm angry today. I'm pissed off that I can't give him the cup of milk he so desperately wants. On one hand I really want to see if this works. On the other, I don't necessarily buy into it. I'm afraid of getting my hope up only to find that this diet change is for nothing. The kid can't even have Christmas cookies. What the HELL am I supposed to put in his stocking? He can't have chocolate. How do you live and not eat chocolate? I shudder at that thought.

I can't even write about it anymore. Going to watch Dexter.




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Sub Prime Mortgages

Sunday, December 16, 2007 by Jennifer Curran

Predatory lenders offered the American Dream to people who didn't think that it was ever going to be in reach. They signed on the dotted line and within a year or two were no longer able to pay for what they signed up for.

No one cared. Until... the wealthy Americans realized that this would end up hurting their pocketbooks.

So now we have a situation where it was perfectly fine to reap the benefits of robbing from the poor for a few years. What's 15% on a $150,000 mortgage? I mean, they were willing to pay it, so screw them. But, Oh Shit! They can't pay??? Well, that means WE lose money right??

Lobby, lobby, lobby for help. Help for the poor? Hardly. Help to keep their bellies fat and bank accounts full.


The government has NO place stepping in. People bought what they couldn't afford and are paying price. If the big lending companies didn't make the economy go 'round do you honestly think anyone in DC would give a them a second thought?

Its always about the Big Man, this hand out has nothing to do with helping anyone but themselves. It makes me sick actually.


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So true!!!

Saturday, December 15, 2007 by Jennifer Curran

I got this in an email today from one incredible, compassionate and dedicated rescuer. I've "joined the dark side" as she put it. I can't wait for my volunteering starts at the shelters. I can't wait to go walking in the park with a new friend whose life hasn't gone so well. I can't wait to share in the tiny triumphs and the many tears.

This sure hit home with me. It's only missing this line:

If I didn't have animals, I wouldn't need a lint roller at home, in the car, at work, and in my purse.

~~


If I Didn't Have Animals - (Author Unknown)


I could walk
around the yard barefoot in safety.

My house could be carpeted instead of
tiled and laminated.

All flat surfaces, clothing, furniture, and cars
would be free of hair.

When the doorbell rings, it wouldn't sound like
the kennels .

When the doorbell rings, I could get to the door without
wading through fuzzy bodies who beat me there.

I could sit on the couch
the way I wanted, without taking into consideration how much space several fur
bodies would need to get comfortable.

I would not have strange presents
under my Christmas tree -- dog bones, stuffed animals , nor would I have
to answer to people why I wrap them.

I would not be on a first-name basis
with three veterinarians.

The most used words in my vocabulary would not
be: out, sit, down, come, no,stay, and leave him/her/it ALONE.

My house
would not be cordoned off into zones with baby gates or barriers.

My
pockets would not contain things like poop bags, treats and an extra
leash.

I would no longer have to spell the words B-A-L-L-, F-R-I-S-B-E-E,
or W-A-L-K.

I would not have as many leaves INSIDE my house as
outside.

I would not look strangely at people who think having ONE dog
ties them down too much.

I'd look forward to spring and the melting of
snow instead of dreading mud season.

I would not have to answer the
question Why do you have so many dogs/animals from people who will never have
the joy in their lives of knowing they are loved unconditionally by something as
close to an angel as they will ever get.

How empty my life would
be.


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hi. i'm clancy.

by Jennifer Curran

hey this is clancy. the dog? i just wanted to tell the world that i'm feeling a bit neglected lately. mom is always reading stuff on this thing and writing stuff on paper. i don't know why she won't just connect this to a printer. i think she said something about "kicking it old school". she can be quite juvenile. but who am i talk? hah! i can't talk. who am i to whine? i still pee a little on the floor when she comes home. hey, no one's perfect.

i am going to get out today. cabin fever has set in and i've just destroyed my favorite toy and tried to chew my frisbee. it won't come apart but i think i have a piece stuck in my teeth. god i hate that. hoping for a good marrow bone to get it out.

i've got it all planned out:

as soon as she walks out the front door, you know holding hands with my brothers? well, i'm just gonna bolt. and then i'll act like i didn't notice the gate opening and then i'll just run right through it. and then i'll just scoot up the sidewalk really fast so she'll have to come pick me up. usually when she does that i end up just going for a ride and i love going for rides. the boys usually drop stuff for me to eat. the trick is trying to grab it before it hits the floor. that floor is nasty... gosh she really needs to do something about that. the dog hair alone is bad enough... oh don't blame me!! I don't pull it out and leave it in piles. it just happens and i can't help it. lay off will you?

have a good day. here's to my impending escape.


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Water, water everywhere

Friday, December 14, 2007 by Jennifer Curran

Woke up this morning, came downstairs with Seth and as I stumble into the kitchen I hear, "Oh mess! Mommy! Water!"

My heating system (old school steam heat) shit the bed. I had water all over the basement, the living room. It was coming through the ceiling from the girls' bedroom. It was 64 degrees. By the time I left for work it was 59.

How awesome is my life this week? I know you're envious.. I can feel it. You're all, "Gosh, that Jenn really has the easiest, most uncomplicated life. Especially this week! She totally ROCKS!"

I do rock, but this is getting a bit out of control. Even for me. Good times!


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Day One

by Jennifer Curran

Today I removed all dairy from JP's diet. I also am not giving him anything processed and no sugar. I'm going to do this whole GFCF diet , but we're starting off slow. I know his system is sensitive, so one step at a time. And I honestly cannot afford to go cold turkey. It would sincerely cost me about $300 to get started and about $150 a week in addition to the regular groceries.

I say this because I'm not "educated" in GFCF. I know there are ways to do this cheaper, but EVERYTHING has gluten or casein in it. At least that's how it seems. Bread is impossible. I'll have to make his bread. You can find gluten free bread, but I guess its pretty nasty. We'll need a bread machine. I think I"ll check Craigslist.com.




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When work is more than just work

by Jennifer Curran

I work at a place of extraordinary tradition and history. I work with women who make it, teach it and leave their names and marks on the world. Mothers, wives, sisters. All present. A purity of intent and actions to match words. There are no office politics, no cattiness or pettiness. Support coming at a new level.

Today I let my bosses know about JP. I have a lot of appointments coming up and will need to take some time to get things rolling. The director of the center (my boss's boss) was in my office and I sort of lost it when I heard it out loud. She had one hour to write a speech and get ready for a pretty big meeting. She closed the door, put her things down and sat with me. I often say "Show up and be present", well that's what she did.

She told me that my son was surrounded by strong women. Women who held within them a gentleness of spirit and a burning desire for him to get better. That I was a strong and capable advocate. That my son is my son for a reason. She looked right at me and said, "Here you have a gentle place to fall. We don't need heroes, just take a deep breath and know that you are appreciated and treasured. Do what you need and never question our absolute support. You are an inspiration to us all. How you do what you do.... its truly amazing." No one has ever said those things to me. And I take it with a strange sort of disconnect. I haven't really succeeded at anything yet so its hard to believe.

However, having her for a boss... only adds to the reasons as to why I just might change my track record.



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How we'll cure him.

Thursday, December 13, 2007 by Jennifer Curran

Amazing what one day can do. Emails, phone calls from across the country are opening doors and possibility for JP. Gluten Free Casein Free Diet. This diet has changed many lives. Please watch these videos, they explain why and how it works. Amazing.

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How it works. GFCF Diet Part 1

by Jennifer Curran

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GFCF Part Two

by Jennifer Curran

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ASD

Wednesday, December 12, 2007 by Jennifer Curran

What a day.

JP isn't doing well. He is now not only screaming and throwing temper tantrums all day, he is biting himself to the point where he bleeds, he pulls out his hair, he throws himself across the room or onto furniture, he bangs his head on the floor. He screams so loudly his teachers have to take the other kids across the hall to their second classroom. JP stays behind until he calms down. He has tantrums every few minutes and they last anywhere from 2 to 30 minutes.

My son cries, screams, pulls at himself and bites his fingers until he draws blood every single day of his life. Every. Day. While I'm work and his teachers write down what set him off, how long it lasts and what they try to do to calm him. He has a 3-ring binder, organized by date, to track his meltdowns.

This is the same boy whose blue-green eyes melt your heart and make you believe that angels probably have something to do with creation. This boy whose laugh is as big as the room he is in. My boy hurts himself because he can't tell anyone why he is mad or sad or frustrated. All he knows to do is to create a physical pain to express his need for....?

I spoke to his pediatrician today and she diagnosed him. He is autistic and there isn't anyway to deny it or believe its just a phase. There is SOMETHING wrong that I can't fix with hugs and kisses. I can't put a band aid on this and tell him that mommy can make it go away.

I don't want the world to know him as Jenn's son, the autistic twin. I want the world to say JP. To SEE what I see when I look at him. To know that he is sweet and loving and gentle. I don't want this label to predict his future or allow teachers to teach Autistic James. I want them to teach all of him, not just the tiny percentage that is a diagnosis. I know he is leaps and bounds better off than most kids with this. I know he might outgrow it. But until that happens everytime he gets upset and loses control it will remind me that he's not like the other kids. And he may never be.

I will do anything and everything to create a better world for him. I'll read and study and ask questions. I will be his advocate. Because I need to. I need to DO something and stay one step ahead.

Because he's my son. My silly boy. My JP.

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NOT FOR KIDS TO WATCH.

by Jennifer Curran



The very last line is freaking hysterical.

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A bedtime conversation with Seth

Saturday, December 08, 2007 by Jennifer Curran

Kitty fresh. scratch you.

Yes Seth, now go to bed.

Kitty key-ute!

Yes the kitty is very cute. Get in your bed.

Mommy, you're key-ute!

Thank you Seth, now get IN YOUR BED!

Okay mommy. (Walks to his bed) JP, Mommy fresh.

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4 Minutes edited into 1

by Jennifer Curran

I am learning iMovie on Smith. Here's a very rough first draft.



video

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by Jennifer Curran

I had two parties at work Thursday and Friday.  I planned both events.  Thursday was a catered even with about 30 guests.  Friday was a do-it-all-myself luau with 60 guests or so.  I decorated, I planned ceremonies, I ran around all day yesterday until I got home at 7ish.  

So, while I got to bring home a huge platter of spring rolls and fried wontons... I think I'm pushing catering from now on! I am absolutely exhausted right now.  Body is very achy and sore :0(

My sons are so silly today.  I think I am going to spend today learning how to use iMovie on my Mac.  That way I can post some video blogs.  Aaron's camera can hook up to Smith pretty easily and from the small amount of exploring on iMovie it looks pretty simple.  

More coffee.... need more coffee....  

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From Uncle Roger

Thursday, December 06, 2007 by Jennifer Curran

I received this email from my uncle yesterday. It said it was written by an Australian dentist. I loved what it said and investigated a bit further. Turns out it was written by Peter Ferrara, an associate professor of law at the George Mason University School of Law. It was published in the National Review, a conservative web site and newsletter. It was published on September 25, 2001.

I am pasting it below for the simple reason being, I'm sick and tired of Americans feeling bad for themselves, about themselves and our place in the world. I work on a campus where feeling a bit anti-American is the status quo.

~~

What Is An American?
A primer.

By Peter Ferrara, an associate professor of law at the George Mason University School of Law.
September 25, 2001 9:20 a.m.

ou probably missed it in the rush of news last week, but there was actually a report that someone in Pakistan had published in a newspaper there an offer of a reward to anyone who killed an American, any American.

So I just thought I would write to let them know what an American is, so they would know when they found one.

An American is English…or French, or Italian, Irish, German, Spanish, Polish, Russian or Greek. An American may also be African, Indian, Chinese, Japanese, Australian, Iranian, Asian, or Arab, or Pakistani, or Afghan.

An American is Christian, or he could be Jewish, or Buddhist, or Muslim. In fact, there are more Muslims in America than in Afghanistan. The only difference is that in America they are free to worship as each of them choose.

An American is also free to believe in no religion. For that he will answer only to God, not to the government, or to armed thugs claiming to speak for the government and for God.

An American is from the most prosperous land in the history of the world. The root of that prosperity can be found in the Declaration of Independence, which recognizes the God-given right of each man and woman to the pursuit of happiness.

An American is generous. Americans have helped out just about every other nation in the world in their time of need. When Afghanistan was overrun by the Soviet army 20 years ago, Americans came with arms and supplies to enable the people to win back their country. As of the morning of September 11, Americans had given more than any other nation to the poor in Afghanistan.

An American does not have to obey the mad ravings of ignorant, ungodly cruel, old men. American men will not be fooled into giving up their lives to kill innocent people, so that these foolish old men may hold on to power. American women are free to show their beautiful faces to the world, as each of them choose.

An American is free to criticize his government's officials when they are wrong, in his or her own opinion. Then he is free to replace them, by majority vote.

Americans welcome people from all lands, all cultures, all religions, because they are not afraid. They are not afraid that their history, their religion, their beliefs, will be overrun, or forgotten. That is because they know they are free to hold to their religion, their beliefs, their history, as each of them choose.

And just as Americans welcome all, they enjoy the best that everyone has to bring, from all over the world. The best science, the best technology, the best products, the best books, the best music, the best food, the best athletes.

Americans welcome the best, but they also welcome the least. The nation symbol of America welcomes your tired and your poor, the wretched refuse of your teeming shores, the homeless, tempest tossed.

These in fact are the people who built America. Many of them were working in the twin towers on the morning of September 11, earning a better life for their families.

So you can try to kill an American if you must. Hitler did. So did General Tojo and Stalin and Mao Tse-Tung, and every bloodthirsty tyrant in the history of the world.

But in doing so you would just be killing yourself. Because Americans are not a particular people from a particular place. They are the embodiment of the human spirit of freedom. Everyone who holds to that spirit, everywhere, is an American.

So look around you. You may find more Americans in your land than you thought were there. One day they will rise up and overthrow the old, ignorant, tired tyrants that trouble too many lands. Then those lands too will join the community of free and prosperous nations.

And America will welcome them.

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For Aaron

Tuesday, December 04, 2007 by Jennifer Curran

This picture was taken on the happiest day of my life.

I know for most mothers out there this would be a photo of your child's birth or maybe a wedding photo or some special event. For me it was August 8, 2004.

Aaron and I were away for a weekend in Cape Ann. I was living in Westfield, about a year after my split with the husband. I was living in the great apartment that I loved so much. The woman in that photo has left the weight of the world that she carried on her shoulders for so long on the bottom of the ocean.

We had just gone for our first scuba dive without an instructor. We crawled along the floor of the Atlantic, pointing out lobsters, fish and we swam over a field of purple and neon yellow starfish. They filled our entire field of vision, little purple stars trimmed in brilliant yellow. A constellation under the sea. We swam through thousands of tiny, tiny jelly fish, their web like tentacles surrounding us like spiderwebs. There were so many the water felt soupy from their jelly-selves filling the salty water where we swam.

I remember sort of floating there about 20 feet down. Aaron was up in front navigating our way. I watched his awkward kick (I'm definitely the better swimmer - Marine or not) and knew in my heart that he was the one I was meant to be with. We hadn't discussed this sort of thing. And it wasn't this sappy, "I'll love him forever" moment. It was more of a confirmation of things set in motion for us. A gentle acknowledgment of the fate that had brought us to this place.

It sounds corny, but watching the sun rays cut through the ocean and light up an entire underwater cliff while he was swimming through it... it made me believe in things I had long forgotten. I was being gently swayed by the waves and the tide, just hovering along, barely moving my arms and legs. I felt perfectly still and at peace with the whole of the world. It was amazing. I made the decision to leave certain things from my past there, buried under 20 feet of water. It was a re-birth of myself. What I left behind doesn't matter nearly as much as what I took with me.

I spent three days in Cape Ann scuba diving. And in those three days I worried about nothing. I ate when I was hungry, I napped when I was tired. I drank beer sitting on our little porch overlooking the water. I put my feet up on the railing while my wet suit dried in the afternoon sun. I watched the boats go by, little boys fishing with their father, huge birds diving in to the water and snatching up fish right in front of me. We were staying in this rudimentary campground that had a building with little rooms in it. Rustic doesn't begin to cover it. It was clean, it met the basic necessities and we loved it. I took pictures, I waved at a 50 year old lobster as I swam by him, he waved at me with his enormous claws. I had salt and sand in my hair, I wore no makeup and didn't even pack a blow drier.

I was just me. Jenn. It was in every sense of the word the happiest days of my life. This photo makes me cry a little every time I see it. Its the only picture of me I like. I think its because I know now and knew in that moment how blessed I was to have that time. I think maybe a part of me knew how rare those days are, how difficult it is to feel truly unburdened in this world. And maybe now looking at the photo makes me a little scared that I won't feel that way again in my lifetime.

It sure is worth fighting for though isn't it?

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Bright Nights

by Jennifer Curran

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tee hee

by Jennifer Curran

Straight No Chaser - 12 Days of Christmas

Add to My Profile | More Videos
Just this on simplesiren's site and had to post it here! This is FANTASTIC! Aaron and I just watched it and laughed our asses off!

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A Good Morning

Sunday, December 02, 2007 by Jennifer Curran



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Skipping Naps

by Jennifer Curran

Boys never napped yesterday. Went to bed and fell asleep at 8. And they SLEPT UNTIL 8AM!!! I woke up at 7:58 looked at the clock and had a panic attack. I honestly thought for a second that something was terribly wrong when I heard little feet in the hallway. I opened my door and there was Seth, all rumply and pink, "Hel-low Mommy."

Wow. No naps today. I haven't slept that late without Aaron's help in, well, 2 1/2 years.

There is a God and this is proof.

~~~~~~~~

The meds are finally kicking in. Today is the third day in a row I don't have MTS. I am going to the dog park today to test it out. The cold seems to affect me pretty bad.


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