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 Driving Lorelei to a slumber party, unsure if the address I have is correct.

Me: Hey Lo, do you know if Lydia lives in Ava’s neighborhood, where we went to Girl Scouts at that school last year?

Lo: Uh, I dunno.

Me, driving down the street: Does this look familiar at all?

Lo: Uh, I dunno.

Me: You’ve been to Lydia’s a couple times, right?

Lo: Yes

Me, pulling up to a brown house associated with the address I think it is: Is this it?

Lo: I dunno. I’ll ring and ask if Lydia lives here.


Jack, in the same scenario set up.

Me: Hey Jack, do you know if your friend lives in that neighborhood we went to that park once last year that had a zipline at it?

Jack: Yes, you go down that street that has Price Chopper, and then you turn right on the street where Aaron, my friend from pre-school we once had a playdate at his house lives, then you take a left at that big house with the old car in front. I’m pretty sure the house we’re going to used to be painted blue, but I think they painted it brown last year.


3:40 – I  pick kids up from school.

3:41 – I take Lo to a friend’s while we drive downtown to get Brandon.

3:42 – Jack starts reading his book.

3:43 – 4:18    **crickets**

4:19 – Jack shuts his book.

4:19:03 – Jack says:

“Hey Mom did you know Cooper gave me a Pokemon card today? Cooper D___  from Cub Scouts? You know, Cooper D___ from school?  He gave me one of his older ones but it’s still in pretty good condition. The card is Shivy, I think. I think it’s called Shivy, and it does 20 damage. They all have different names and powers and stuff. Here, Mom, see, if you look in the right corner you’ll what all you can do with it. And on the bottom, too, I think.  I think I’m going to see if Brandon wants to get some cards and learn to play it with me; you and Lorelei can play it too if you want, but it’s OK if you don’t want because I know sometimes you ladies want to do other things than do what Brandon and I do, like play video games and stuff. I wonder how much these cards are more expensive than like, my mini figures and stuff. I should probably look on eBay to see how much they are because if they’re like, a dollar or something, I probably would save my tokens and spend them on Pokemon cards instead of video game time. I don’t think I’m going to play video games until like, Sunday, so I can read about Pokemon and how to play and how much the cards are and stuff. Do you think your friends’ kids want to have a playdate this weekend to play Pokemon? I bet if they’re older than me, like say 10, they probably would know more about Pokemon and how it works and the best cards to get. They probably could tell me how they got started and what cards are best and stuff. So you should probably call your friends and see if they want to play. Are they brothers or twins, these boys who play Pokemon? Do they have little sisters that might want to play with Lorelei, because I don’t think she will want to play Pokemon yet, I just don’t think she cares much about cards and stuff. Cooper gave this to me today at recess when we were done playing soccer. The teachers sometimes divide us up on to teams and we count off to make two teams and today Pedro Jose was on my team and he’s really good. I don’t think I want to play soccer again next year because I just like playing at recess but not for like, a real game and stuff. I wonder if it’s very expensive to get into Pokemon or if I’ll have to save up like I do for my Legos sometimes. I think maybe tonight when we’re done with dinner I should go on to the computer and check eBay to see how much the cards are to start so I know how many tokens to save. I think you can get these cards at Target and card shops and stuff, but I think we should see how much they cost first, but I bet Brandon will be excited to play with me because he likes this kind of thing I think. Right, Mom?”

4:23:05 – Jack takes a second breath.

4:23:07 – I smile.

4:23:08 – My head begins to pound a little behind my left eye.

Short NPR article discussing autism dx and parental levels of education.  Seems obvious to have to state that the correlation/causation caveat is (in part) due to educated parents knowing to even seek out said autism dx, but I also don’t think their little maps can be written off quite so tidily. Because although I still every once in a while see articles on epigenetics and such, I have to wonder if eventually autism will be posited more convincingly as an evolutionary shift. It just makes sense to me to think that our technological growth is possibly (simply) becoming matched neurologically. And I wish I could find where I saw the stat that said people with Asperger were twice as likely to have fathers and grandfathers as engineers. I mean, come on. That’s pretty compelling if not full-on fascinating.

All the more reason why I personally think eugenics is reprehensible. Whatever.

More importantly, I wish people would stop polarizing into neurodiverse/curebie camps, because NOTHING IS THAT SIMPLE, and maybe it would slow people down from doing things out of desperation. Massive chelating of metals in the brain and restrictive diets and injections and everything else that scared parents are funneling into their children? It needs to slow down. Not because I’m against alternative medicine in the least. But because I’ve been that panicked parent, and at this point I want to have on the table the idea that perhaps if your child improves from whatever impaired state of functioning they were in, maybe they weren’t ever actually autistic in the first place – but merely (if merely can be used respectfully) just bodily toxic. And if that could be acknowledged as a possibility, surely it would be easier to mitigate the eternal fear surrounding autism. …Which would obviously foster better acceptance. …And also lessen the obsession to find a causation. I dunno. Call me crazy.

In the end I know I don’t have any more actual facts than probably anyone else with a strong view, professional or otherwise. But that’s pretty interesting, too. And worth noting.

Hala posted an article about a little boy who was ‘voted off the island’ in his class, and the point of the story is that the five year-old is (soon-to-be) dxd with Aspergers.

[My first reaction was irritation that the reporter spelled Asperger with a ‘b’ in it. Damnit, people. It may sound like ‘burger’, but it’s not. If you can’t spell it properly and don’t know how to use, relearn how to pronounce it as a mnemonic.]

However, the gut reaction for me was not so much the advocacy of disability discrimination – which is real when it comes to disabilities that can create negative reactions, e.g., behavioral issues – but the stunningly STUPID fact that that teacher thought the game(?) would be a good idea for any child. I mean, come on, has she never heard of that brown/blue eyed experiment?

I can’t imagine any teacher pulling a young child to the front of a class and having all his classmates say what they DON’T like about him, and then vote to kick him out of class. Add to that that the child in question has a dx including social difficulties – and had made ONE FRIEND in the class – and she thought to herself that not only was that not cruel, but was in fact altruistic or …wait, my head’s exploding… didactic?

Sweet Mary I can’t even imagine what I would do if someone did that to Jack. As it is I want to shake that teacher until she gets whiplash. And the thing is, part of this is my old debate about special treatment of autism in regards to viewing it as a disability or a neurodiverse thing. I don’t always agree that everything should be kumbaya and unrealistic in learning environments. So maybe with different constraints (Older kids? Couched in a psych lesson?) it could be interesting. Maybe. But it just seems an unnecessary experiment (and, done before), and knowing the extra and long-term damage to this boy in particular is what takes this from stupid to outright malicious.

But the part that makes me saddest of all (again, like Hala) are the comments after the article. Disagree how you will about autism being a factor, but being unsympathetic to a child’s emotional damage is.. wrong. And that’s the base factor here.

Here’s my morning thus far:

Took Jack to a new Ped about an issue that was subsequently referred on to an Endocrinologist. It’s most likely nothing, but I’ll let you know if it becomes something real. This Ped’s an autie mom also, so when she asked me which doctor gave us the dx, I blanked and mumbled something about ‘Dr. Prozac.’ I was momentarily embarrassed until she looked at me and said I know exactly who you’re talking about, he tried to put my daughter on Prozac also. And it was, in fact, the same guy.

That’s both funny and really, really sad.

Also while we were there, the vet called to say Oscar is not recouping as well as he should, so they put him back on IV and drugs [insert image of dollars rolling on a gas pump] which makes me think we should start a pool on the final bill, shall we? (Whatchoo think: five dollar buy-in – winner gets bragging rights along with charity warm fuzzies?)

And, finally, here’s a cartoon that made me giggle, though I realize of the half of you who would even GET the reference, half won’t even think it’s funny. Which leaves me and… uh, Sam? Whatever, I like it.

Happy Monday everyone! Hope all you mamas out there had a great weekend.

(First and totally unrelated to the rest of the post: we have a French press now to make our coffee, and SWEET MARY IS IT SO MUCH BETTER THAN OUR OLD DRIP COFFEE. And I love – no, subsist – on coffee as my morning ritual, so although this takes longer, it’s like graduating from Natty Light to Newcastle: I can’t ever have the old kind again without knowing the truth of what’s out there. Yum.)

So, yesterday was an emotional Jack day for me. I had his IEP meeting in the afternoon, and it was so overwhelming, which really threw me for a loop after a couple years of these. First, there were ten, maybe eleven people in the room, and I had no idea why or who all these professionals were. Speech, Occupational, Resource teacher, Pre-school teacher, Kindy teacher, Principal, Special Needs advocate, Psychologist and a few others thrown in to raise the temperature level it seemed like. And it was surreal the way they discussed Jack as if he were an inanimate object, a case-study maybe. And don’t get me wrong, they are very kind and loving people, I feel ridiculously blessed we are in the school district we are. But at one point they were clinically explaining all his deficits and below developmental-average percentages, and I just burst into tears. The whole room stared at me for a second, totally confused as to why I’d be crying, when the spark of realization that they were talking to the mother of this real child hit them.

I am more anxious about how successful Jack will be in Kindergarten than I have been about anything previously. His pre-k is a program geared towards kids with various special needs. There are at least 5 adults in the room, and most of the kids have IEPs of some sort. But next year will be Jack mainstreamed in a normal classroom where he most likely could be one of maybe two kids who are special needs. The IEP team had a heated and obviously old argument about how much Para time could be allocated to him. I mean, they’re arguing over whether “Jacoby” will succeed in a three hour class with 60 minutes, or if he really needs 90 minutes of personal adult attention, and I know they’re thinking solely of time and budget. But I, on the other hand, am picturing my sweet boy having an anxiety attack and melting down in this alien environment. And the truth is, we’re all a little nervous how it will go – and this is a new feeling for us as a team. This is a wonderful school filled with genuinely caring people who adore my son (thus I adore them), so I know he has a great support net. I just feel so helpless to help him sometimes. And basically, it scares the shite out of me to know the professionals who know him almost as well feel the same way. There’s just not a lot we can do besides pray and wait.

But on a lighter note, we had Jack’s first of two birthday parties last night, along with another little boy in his class with an April birthday. The kids all had fun, and I was so proud of how Jack handled it. He was a champ, even during the few moments when I could see he was overwhelmed. At one point he stood up on his bench in the noisy pizza room and hollered THIS IS THE BEST BIRTHDAY EVER! Ha.

He’ll turn 5 next week, and he’s come so far it’s unbelievable. I love that little fartknocker so much my heart hurts with it.


And I mean really, who couldn’t?

I kid. I don’t really care, though I’ve heard those die-hard Dolphin fans are pretty annoying about that record, and I do feel kind of badly that they’ll still have a one-up barb against the Pats. (Kind of like some KU people I know.. Ha.)

We attended a party last night, and although I was super tired, I was pleasantly surprised at how well Jack did. He was still kinda quirky, but not too much, and really, he handled all sorts of new people talking to him like a champ. I’d had a conversation yesterday where the idea of Zoloft (or likewise) was mentioned as something to think about, but last night sort of solidified my instinct that it’s just not what he needs right now. Though I do think I should talk to his teachers and see if they have any ideas on fresh ways to navigate whatever stage we’re in that I’m not understanding. This whole thing is humbling, I tell you. Love ain’t always enough, people.

So I had started reading ‘Love In The Time Of Cholera’ by Marquez, b/c I had loved his other work so much, and at first I really dug it. But I have had simply the hardest time staying focused, which, unless I’m reading.. a book on calculus.. just isn’t like me. I’m sure I’ll finish it, b/c I’m stubborn and I really believe there has to be a major event to tie this exceedingly-long development, but my heart just isn’t in it currently. BUT, I did find in the morass of my dresser-top the other book I purchased at the same time, a memoir called Running With Scissors, and I read a couple chapters last night. Wow. It’s pretty fascinating so far. I purposely haven’t read a whole lot about it, but I seem to think I’ve heard it’s disturbing, so I’m a little wary. But, like I said, it’s really interesting, and I know it’s on the must-read list, so there you go. I’ll let you know what I think when I finish it. (And Cholera, to be fair).

And thus ends my usual disjointed Monday post. I hope yinz (holla Jen-nay! You’re rubbing off on me!) had a good weekend. Tomorrow I’ll post a special youtubetuesday for Casey, so I’ll see you then.


Aside from a quick, somewhat.. uh.. beer and basketball-inspired post on Wednesday, I’ve held out pretty long, wouldn’t you say?

But I broke my own rule, because it was stupid, and I’m not working on Bradley stuff during the times I write here anyway. Plus, I got the first monster book report done, which was easily 40% of it, so realistically I could tear through the rest this weekend since it’s mostly busy work.

So, how was your week? I wish I could say in the interim I had multitude of events happen worthy of talking about, but truthfully it’s been the usual. Except *something* is going on with Jack and I simply can’t figure it out. His behavior is going beyond autistic into.. orbit somehow. I know there’s often a regression right before huge developmental leaps, so I’m just watching him right now and trying to roll with it. But his illogic has morphed into complete nonsensical now. Yesterday in the car, after I decided the snow coming down was probably reason enough to go home:

“Sorry, sweet boy. We need to go home now.”

“No! Put the snow in the box! Home has gone away! Goodbye home! See you later!”

“Jack. You know that’s not possible. The house doesn’t leave. There is nowhere it can go.”


And I know he’s just trying to create a logical justification for why doing what he doesn’t want could be impossible. It’s clever and complicated thinking, and that’s good. But more than the personification of everything going places lately, it’s the almost-terrified look in his eyes during these meltdowns that breaks my heart. I don’t think he’s particularly scared, he’ll tell us when he’s ‘scary’ of anything. So, I don’t know.

(Hmm. Now I’m sufficiently bummed. Great Friday post, Jen.)

Oh well. It’ll be fine. Just another dip in our road. I’ll post something happy soon, I promise. Or, I’ll just sigh contentedly while looking at the picture of the game 8) .

And until I come back, here’s a link to a creepy trick my moms sent me. I don’t usually fall for these things, but this one has been right all eleventynine times I’ve done it, so I’m officially spooked now. I really want someone smarter than I to explain how it works, por favor, because I can’t handle the idea of cybersupernatural right now. Kthanks.

Later, friends. I *did* miss you!

So anyone who knows me – or at least has read my thoughts on autism – knows that I have shifted wildly from my initial ideas. I mention this only because I want to acknowledge that I don’t approach this post feeling patronizing or with some sort of authority. Had this exact video come out two years ago I’m not sure what I would have thought.

Anyway, like a perverse addict, I always seem to watch/read news stories about autism, simply because, well, I just do. And most of the time it makes me grumpy, so it’s no surprise that this CNN video segment is no different.

As I was watching it I tried to step back and ask myself why I was irritated. I know the vast majority of people working in autism science have benevolent intentions. I know that I am extremely blessed that Jack is so high-functioning that my life isn’t about searching for a cure. Who knows, maybe if he hadn’t changed as much as he had, I may still think like that, so I don’t hold judgment – I have no right to and I know that.

But this video, which is supposed to be positive and filled with medically-advanced hope, made me sad. The little things in it made me sad. The word normal was used both audibly to describe the little boy (“I never would have thought he was autistic!”) and to delineate the brain scan categories. And that’s just such a negative connotation, whether you consciously realize it or not. Really, think about your first impression when I say atypical versus abnormal. There was an emotional difference, wasn’t there? I know that’s splitting hairs, but when you’re the one pigeonholed you begin to notice these things. Language is powerful.

I am fully supportive of brain scans for conservative reasons. Obviously they are remarkable. But what I’m not kosher with is the idea of routinely and/or blanket scanning all kids – during the single most important time in their neurological development – just to see if their brains look funny. And all of this so they can see if a child needs early intervention, b/c EI is the single biggest factor in “pulling these kids out of the deep, dark hole they’re in”.

I agree that EI rocks. I abhor how it’s described there.

It seems incredibly dramatic to do scans when there are other non-invasive tests to see who qualifies for EI. And to be clear, I know the video isn’t implying other tests should be replaced, I’m just saying I think it’s way overkill with the scans. It’s just unnecessary to me – but that’s probably b/c I’m not comfortable with the idea of assuming we should narrow down anything specifically about autism, when everything about it is already so miasmatic.

And this full-circles to my view that all of this autism research is a slippery slope towards eugenics. And not only eugenics, but a version that is repugnant (if that’s not redundant) in my opinion. It honestly makes my stomach hurt to think that in a creepy Orwellian kind of way, maybe in 15 (5? 2?) years I could choose to abort Jack simply because he carried that predisposition for the dreaded ‘autism’.

Whatever. This is a complicated issue. And this isn’t a rant, really. It’s just that the further along we go, the more I am deeply uncomfortable with the negativity permeating the whole world of autism. I’ve said these things before, but I’ll probably say them again, because this idea of being different, not disabled, needs to be kept in the back of everyone’s minds. I know it’s easy to get lost in politically correct minutiae, but this isn’t a bleeding-heart cause d’jour to me like it’s become in the entertainment business. This is a snowball that is going in a frightening direction and it involves my kid.

That little boy shown was a happy, intelligent, fully functioning kid. So why was he the example when the whole premise of the video was jubilation that we’re closer to a cure?

What does he need cured?

It’s been two years this week since we sat in the developmental ped’s office, getting an autism diagnosis.

And the thing that surprises me most since then is how.. meandering my research and views have been. When I hit the bookstore that first night, the majority of salient titles were about curing autism. And since most of that was through supplements and nutrition, it made perfect sense within my own burgeoning crunchy philosophy. We spent hundreds of dollars on supplements, created spreadsheets, overhauled the pantry and jumped in.

And Jack trucked along with the help of his therapists and prayer. He learned to say no. He learned to say two-word sentences. He learned to not screech if we were at the store and someone tried to talk to him. He allowed us to leave him in the preschool room at church services. He started going into other people’s houses. He would memorize and babble in perfect intonation and cadence entire books and movies. He started letting us kiss him on the cheek as opposed to the angled-head he offered previously.

So it was a huge shock when I discovered that there were many people who thought that curing autism was abhorrent. To that philosophy ‘curing’ something that was never wrong but just different is anathema to a person’s.. well.. personhood. And I chewed on that for a while because at this point Jack was making huge developmental leaps and life just wasn’t as hard as it used to be. I began to consider my own moderated view that maybe some people really were genetically predisposed to autism (us), and others were straight-up bodily toxic (not us). I then decided the whole diagnostic process would eventually need to be redesigned to delineate between the two because the worlds were vastly different – and left it neatly at that.

And Jack continued to grow. He learned how to say multiple-word sentences. He began to use spontaneous language. He tried to keep his hand away from his face when he was talking. He finally understood the abstract and incredibly difficult meaning of ‘why’. He started going to school and counting and learning directions. He began to attempt eye contact when he said “hello, anyone!”. He started hugging us and giving us real kisses. He started saying “I missed you so much, Daddy!”. He started going over and asking Lorelei if she was OK when she fell. He drew a picture with a real face.

He wrote his name.

And without realizing it, I began to feel distinct pride when Jack exhibited signs of truly individual thinking. The way he shows us how his mind works is so cool; it blows my mind. With time I found myself silently (and arrogantly, admittedly) diagnosing people I know or don’t know with various forms of autism – usually Asperger’s. It’s actually a badge of honor, truthfully, because usually it will occur to me if something sparks that makes me wonder if you just think differently. And there are other sometimes less-positive aspects of autism, absolutely. I know that I am blessed that Jack is as high-functioning as he is; I wonder sometimes about the fairness of that. But it is what it is, and from what I know, I believe wholeheartedly there are a world of undiagnosed auties out there.

So this weekend while doing some (cursory, actually) vaccine reading, I saw that a scientist (a Gandalf to Offit’s Saruman in the vax world) I respect deeply mentioned offhand that he too thinks autism is truly immunological or neurological and is no more genetic than any other human factor. And that shocked me. Truly. Only because I had long ago decided there was no way it could be either/or – it just seemed so absolute in the particularly cruel autism realm of unpredictability. But this guy is w-a-y up on the scientific food chain (but still holds my views on vaccines and how I think the body works regarding Western medicine) so for him to say that immediately grants a degree of validity in my mind.

And the reason this is so important (and is discussed or mentioned often by me) is because how you view autism directly affects how you parent and make decisions. If I eventually decided that it must truly be a neurological pathology, I would be apt to try and cure it, like you would anything you deemed wrong or unnatural in your body. But if I just think Jack is the hip-phrase ‘neurodiverse’, I would foster his learning potential as best I can. Of course I can marry the two, but the point behind it is the emotional connotation. One is seen as a celebration of ingenuity or individuality; the other a defective wiring or illness. How you view this is tantamount to the kind of lens you have when you look at your child – I don’t care what you say.

So I guess, two years later, I am no more closer to understanding the causation of autism. And truthfully I think I’m alright with that. Because if there’s a cause, there’s a cure, and I’m not sure that everything being included?… I’d want one anymore.

Ever feel like someone has taken a cheese grater and gone EEEE-ERRR across the back of your throat? Yeah, me too. Yesterday I took 12 grams of sodium ascorbate (a form of Vit C), which is, I think, a hundred and twenty times more than the RDA’s measely 100mg daily.

Re-dickarus that daily allowance is. That amount does almost nothing for you, much less if you need to heal something. Whatever.

So, I just got back from Jack’s first parent-teacher conference of the year. I find it embarrassingly affirming for me to go to these things and have PROFESSIONALS tell me wonderful things about him. I firmly believe every parent knows their child best, but the one thing that has been the hardest with this whole dang journey is blindly going along with no idea how to navigate it. Usually I’ll research forty different views on any subject and finally stop, leap with a decision, and say ‘well shit, I hope this works.’ I’m sure a lot of parenting is like that, but with autism we have NO (zilch, none, nada) comparison for whether we’re succeeding. Lots of two-forward-one-back kinda thing.

It’s also hard for me to accept that for now, the single best place for Jack is in the school system. I have such excitement thinking about homeschooling, but I know that I simply can’t teach him the social skills he needs. Even homeschool co-ops would not be sufficient. And he’s leaping and bounding so much that I just resign myself to pushing the idea back a few years.

We talked about kindergarten today, and how academically he was ready long ago, but socially he needs to work on a couple concrete ideas (following directions in a group setting, listening fully in a group setting and basic back-and-forth conversation) before we should consider it. He’ll turn 5 in April, so there’ll be no shame if we wait a year (not that there would be anyway, but you know what I mean). We’ll decide then if keeping him in the pre-school will be more beneficial or detrimental. We talked about how his receptive language (hearing and processing) is still fairly behind his expressive language (talking, basically) and when we get it a little bit closer to even, it will be easier to make the decision. They noted the same thing I see all the time, which is that often if Jack will slow down enough, when you speak to him you can almost *see* the wheels turning to process what you’re saying. It breaks my heart to take for granted the instantaneousness with which I can think, and know he has to do it slowly and carefully. It’s not insurmountable, but it’s a sizable issue.

There was one particular thing that almost made me cry. His Speech Pathologist (who is beloved in our home) told me that all kids on the spectrum are different and incomparable, but the positive qualities Jack has are above the majority of the ASD kids she usually works with. And she said partially she attributes that to how Jon and I parent. She’s noticed that instead of focusing on the limitations of the diagnosis (a trap I recognize) Jon and I still have high expectations of him, and treat him as normally as possible.

Sounds obvious, but until you have a child that you look at with a special lens, you have no idea what a compliment that is.

So yeah, this was a nice visit for me.

And I just don’t agree with those who vehemently think it’s all genetic or all environmental/immunological. I personally know too many people who break those constraints. It has to be a spectrum for causation too; there’s just too many unknowns. Hm.

I also heard an interesting theory suggesting that the reason for the rise in autism is an evolutionary shift in response to the need for advanced technological thinkers.

That kept me up a bit the last couple nights..

Anyhoo, interesting article in Discover about autism, if ya wanna read it. (Linky provided by a mama on MDC.)

Happy Friday and good weekend everyone~



I have a bunch of things on my brain and none of them are correlated. Proper introduction, no?

1. Jack is doing wonderfully with both types of pottying lately. Some people think it’s totally lame for bored moms to blog about things like that, when they should be discussing presidential platforms and the Gaza strip. To them I say SUCKIT. Jack is 4 and a half and this is *huge* in our world.

2. My right arm has been sort of tingly and sore since last night. I’m not going to entertain the thought of a stroke so I think I’ll have Jon massage it to see if it’s a pinched nerve.

3. We have a couple weddings coming up, and I had thought I would wear a pretty little shirt I got from my beloved (and incredibly consumeristic) White House/Black Market. It looks similarly enough to this, though without the windblown model. And I don’t hold my manicured hands so casually. Anyway, when I bought it a few years ago it was sort of roomy, and has since become too big to wear (yay!.. wait… booo!) so I had the INGENIOUS idea of washing it, thinking it would shrink. And it did. Except I’m such a freaking blockhead I didn’t think about the fact that it shrunk shorter, too. So now it’s quite snug across, but also shows a fantastic amount of slightly streched-marked and tatooed tummy. Mmmmm sexy. So maybe instead I should beaugard Lo’s pink shirt that has ‘I (heart) NY’ rhinestoned on the front and wear that. Because I’m that damn classy..

4. K-State vs Auburn, tomorrow night at 7something, ESPN. Be there and see how Casey and I manage to continue to be friends. I told him I wouldn’t get into pre-game smack because I think it’s possible we’ll lose. But if we win? Woo hoo all sportsmanship is outta here! 😉

Have a good weekend, everyone.

Jack drew a picture! A recognizable picture of a person with a face and body and everything!

This is spectacular – it means he not only can imagine the ideas to draw, but can also get the fine motor ability in his hand to cooperate enough to do it!

((happy sigh))



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