SquareGirl

Punctuation Mark.

2010-01-17T23:34:00.000-08:00

Tonight was the last night of my short and very sweet lived experience as a performer. Granted, I am not and have never wanted to be a performer, but this PERFORMANCE was a very small part of a show of moms. Moms sharing their stories, perspectives, ups, downs, struggles, triumphs, uncertainties.

Moms sharing, or expressing rather, Motherhood.

My piece was short.

And I went last.

Very much like the punctuation mark to something beautiful with it’s whole being greater than the sum of each one of it’s AMAZING and inspiring parts, that began with a song.

Literally.

A song about a mini-van no less.

Six nights of sharing, bonding, creating, experiencing and Expressing Motherhood.

I was scared to begin, but now, I am just a little sad that it is over…

I began, not knowing what I was getting myself into, but ended feeling little more fulfilled, connected, creative and grateful to have had the chance to…

Express Motherhood

Punctuation Mark.

Cookies and candies and cakes...

2009-12-26T23:16:00.000-08:00

OH MY!!!

Missing you all and wishing you blessings and holiday spirit and joy...Can't wait to return and provide a new perspective...

Surrender...

2009-12-15T23:27:00.000-08:00

That seems to be my lesson for today.

And I think, maybe...this time...this day...

I just may have passed.

Today...

2009-12-14T23:17:00.000-08:00

I remembered the importance of SLOWING DOWN. Of being a mommy. Of baking cookies and allowing messiness. Of singing silly made-up songs and ignoring the piles of unfolded laundry. Of staying in pajamas way passed breakfast.
I called in sick to work (I AM sick, but rarely call in sick when I am), relinquished To-Do lists, let go of all the "shoulds" and "supposed toos" I have been holding on to and just WAS.
And well...I enjoyed myself and my day with Sonia...immensley. I enjoyed myself far more than I think I should have, yet felt no hint of guilt.

Today, I was just a mommy. Happy. Centered. Present...

Perfect.

Today...

Well, today...

I'll remember.

Perfect Mom...

2009-12-09T23:03:00.000-08:00

Before I was a mom, I was THE. PERFECT. MOM.

Before I was a mom my children NEVER watched television.

They never ate any food that was not organic and definitely not food that was processed.

They never played with toys that were plastic and made noises...just wooden toys...that fostered imagination an facilitated development.

They never watched television or listened to music or ate anything with sugar.

And NOW...that I AM A MOM,my children have done ALL OF THESE THINGS.

I SO am far from being the PERFECT MOM.

Before I was a mom, I was the perfect mom.

Now I'm a mom...far from perfect.

I think I may have evolved.

Two...

2009-12-09T21:26:00.000-08:00

That is how many Christmas gifts I have purchased so far.

Oh wait. This isn't Facebook?

I Am Writer...

2009-11-29T22:34:00.000-08:00

"I AM A Writer"

Pheew!!!

I said it.

Or rather, wrote it.

But more to the point, I'm trying to OWN IT.

Needless to say, once upon a time (or approximately a year or so ago), I was watching Sonia and was touched and inspired and I wrote a little something in my journal...

THEN...

well then, nothing.

I changed diapers, went to work, made dinner, did laundry, did more laundry and then did even MORE laundry.

Oh...and I picked up toys...occasionally. (Mostly I just tripped over them).

UNTIL one night after a glass of wine, while surfing the web (oh yes, I can drink wine and web surf!) I found a request for submissions to perform for Expressing Motherhood. To stand up on a stage a and read/perform something I write...

EEEWWWW!

I HATE stages. I HATE performances. I HATE the spotlight. I HATE the thought of anyone hearing or reading ANYTHING I have written. I am terribly introverted, shy, private and yet...

I AM A WRITER.
Soooo...I attatched my simple journal entry, forgetting, detatching from the outcome, enjoying mommyhood...

Until...I recieved an e-mail telling me my submission was chosen...

And I'll save you the drama other than to let you know that in January I will stand on a stage, reciting my humble and VERY short journal entry about an epiphany I had about being a mom. Half Hoping that no one I know will be there, half hoping everyone I know will be there to support me...stretching, growing, standing.

I. AM. A. WRITER.

This is my debut

A less than crazy birth...

2008-02-20T23:56:00.000-08:00

Should you want to make people look at you as if you are crazy...and even express it out loud...tell them you have decided to give birth to your baby in your home with a midwife. In fact I can guarantee you will hear all the "if we were'nt in the hospital...would've (really bad thing)..." and other related yet horrific stories.

I am not a sensationalist or even a vegetarian...but after multiple birthing books and extensive research, I made the unorthodox decision to give birth to my baby at home. I didn't want to be supressed and dictated by doctors in white coats as to what I was Supposed to do and I wanted my baby to enter the world surrounded by people who loved him/her. So needless to say, I gave birth to my baby in the privacy and comfor of my own home.

So call me "crazy" for forgoing the epidural and doctors and monitors and hospital gowns...

Without drugs.

Without Doctors.

Without monitors.

But...

I had candles, and Miles Davis and a warm and comfortable birthing tub and my supportive husband and two midwives who knew me well and respected me and my body's ability to give birth without intervention and drugs. And now the amazing memory of bringing my daughter into this world peacefully and gently, surrounded by love...

I cannot imagine anything less 'crazy'...

Things I have not been able to do since becoming a mama...

2008-02-15T21:35:00.000-08:00

Sleep.
Eat a meal sitting down.
Repond to e-mails.
Go to lunch.
Get a pedicure.
Shop.
Watch a television show.
Make a social phone call.
Have a stimulating conversation.
Get a Thai masssage.
Post on my blog.

Any regrets?

Not one.

Once upon a time...

2008-01-22T23:03:00.000-08:00

I had a blog.
And I wrote posts. And I read posts. And I even commented. And then…well then life kicked into full speed ahead gear and reality took over posting and reading and commenting and well, where do I begin except just diving in by sharing that this last year which has included moving out of my groovy-stylish-bohemian apartment to a house that is near my father and mother-in-law who was diagnosed to cancer, losing my wonderful mother-in-law to cancer just before giving birth to my own beautiful daughter in my own home with the assistance of my husband and an amazing midwife. It’s been a wild ride…and when (and if) it settled, I realized that I missed the part where I shared it all with the very few but wonderful readers of my blog. So assuming anyone whoever read this are still out there…Squaregirl is now a Squaremama, but still here…older...and maybe, hopefully a little wiser.

SquareToddler

2007-01-14T00:01:00.000-08:00

Because...

1) I'm getting lazy

2) I'm developing a tendency to replace words with pictures (as I'm getting lazy as you just read)

3) SquareSis #2 has somehow located and ressurected old family photos which she is sharing with all of us Squares

Here is proof that...

1) I actually have always had my head stuck in a book as I claimed

2) I avoid, and always have avoided posing for the camera. Unlike Squaresis #2, who is obviously the ham of the Squares.

Oh, and yes, I spent a majority of my childhood nekkid...whatevver, You do see that I am in a cage afterall don't you?

Happy New Year!

2006-12-30T16:16:00.000-08:00

365 days ago, as I walked out of my apartment to see the Rose Parade's New Years floats going by as they were being set up for the next day’s Rose Parade, I marveled at the blessings I have in my life. Not only do the New Years Day Parade floats, come to little-ole-me so I don’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn to walk a mile and a half to see the parade, but instead can sit in front of my fireplace and watch them on TV drinking hot chocolate, (you say “lazy”, I say “cozy”). Needless to say, 2006 indeed HAS been a year of so many blessings. So as this is as good a place as any to express my gratitude to the Universe and reflect on all the blessings I have received, I am listing some of the things I am so grateful for:

1. Welcoming my newest niece, Avery into the world, who kept us all on our toes by not allowing us to know weather she was going to be a girl or a boy throughout the three sonograms.
2. My new Civic. It’s so much less about the material possession than about the security and peace of mind it provides me in knowing that I can safely get to wherever I need to go.
3. Inheriting a whole new, loving, kind and amazing family (in addition to the one I already had).
4. Inheriting five other nephews and nieces who ran up to me on my birthday and gave me a card that AUNTIE A2 (Not because they know about this blog, but because my name begins with an “A”) with the gift of one of their biggest fireworks for me to light.
5. My first trip to Hawaii, which after all the hype, didn’t disappoint.
6. Being able to work with the most amazing, caring, appreciative clients and families and seeing how much they are all changing and growing.
7. Marrying an amazing man who loves and supports me unconditionally…I couldn’t have done it otherwise, as my eccentricities can be quite challenging, I’m sure.
8. More material gifts that I could have ever imagined receiving or needing.

But I think one of the most amazing blessing I received this year, has been the understanding that I have always had everything I have always needed within myself and there is nothing external that I need to make me happy, because true happiness and joy comes from within…and to think, years and years of watching The Wizard of Oz and it took me nearly 33 years to figure that out!

Happy New Year Everyone! My 2007 be filled with blessings and ruby slippers for everyone, everywhere!

Christmas with the Squares...

2006-12-28T17:10:00.000-08:00

Hey, if a picture is worth a thousand words, it's as if I just typed over 5,000 words!!

It'beginning to look a lot like an Auntie Blog!!!

2006-12-18T22:41:00.001-08:00

I HATE CHRISTMAS SHOPPING! With all the hustle and bustle and such. And yet I love the sappy corniness of all the Christmas season. T.V. specials and music and “It’s a Wonderful Life”…Merry Christmas you ole South Pasadena!!! But despite my sappy, sentimental spirit, I try to avoid crowded marketplaces, yet being a sucker for my perfectly adorable and amazing nieces, I agreed (well actually suggested) to accompany SquarSis #3 to one of those new, crazy, open malls that have fake snow and restaurants, and music and stuff…oh yeah, and of course Santa. So after a delightful, yet loud meal, and visits to Santa and orders of Boba, Squaresis and I had the audacity to stop into one of our favorite clothing stores with the understanding that at any moment we may be negotiated (i.e. screamed) out. Our rampage-like collection of clothing turned into an intimate party of four in a dressing room and as Squaresis #3 tried on a pink tunicky camisole, my nearly three-year-old-angel/neice announced, “Ooooooooh, you look like a princess!” and then immediately after, when I tried on a long orange hooded sweater (that I eventually bought), told me, “Oooooooh....you look like a teacher!”

Doesn’t she say the sweetest things?

It'beginning to look a lot like an Auntie Blog!!!

2006-12-18T22:41:00.000-08:00

Giving Thanks

2006-11-24T22:27:00.000-08:00

My neices and nephews on Thanksgiving. How blessed am I??

Until Further Inspiration...

2006-10-06T22:12:00.000-07:00

I haven’t been tagged or anything like that, and I originally had an aversion to these things, but until I receive further inspiration ( I have a feeling that my office full of un-opened boxes that need to be put away has something to do with that), I thought I’d fill in with this book meme…I mean it’s about books, so I practically HAD to do it.

1. One book you have read more than once.
Well, I tear through books faster than I should to really enjoy them and if I really like the book, I immediately turn to the first page to read it again as soon as I’ve finished it. So let’s see, the short list includes, 100 Years of Solitude, House of Mirth, Like Water for Chocolate, Franny and Zooey, all Tenessee Williams plays, Jane Eyre, A Wrinkle in Time, Peter Pan, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Snow Falling on Cedars…this list could really go on and on, so I’ll just stop now. Oh yeah, and I’ve read almost every Dr. Seuss book like 80 times apiece…if those count.

2.One book you would want on a desert island.
That’s a lot of pressure. One book? Hard to say if I should choose a book I’ve read or one I’ve wanted to. This is such a big comitment, I might just have to pass…

3.One book that made you laugh.

Both of Bridget Jones Diaries’. Don’t judge me until you read them. They are hysterical.

4.One book that made you cry.
Throughout school, I was so blessed to have some amazing English teachers who recognized that I preferred having my head stuck in a book than to say…talking to people. Needless to say, almost all of my English teachers would recommend and loan books to me outside of the curriculum. Often times these books would feature, extremely shy, awkward, quirky or misfit girls (huh?, that’s an interesting coincidence…) and one of these books was Bridge to Terabithia, loaned to me by my 5th grade teacher. I hardly know a soul who has read it, but I loooooved it and while I don’t know exactly how many times I’ve actually read it, it made me cry everytime.

5.One book I wish I had written.
I’ll let you know when I write it.

6.One book you wish had never been written.
Textbook.

7.One book I am currently reading.
The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby by Tom Wolfe. I know it’s a little too groovy for a Square, but how could I pass with a title like that??

8. One book I have meant to read.
The Lord of the Rings. I mean, if my brother could read it SEVEN times (yes, he did), I can make it through the darned thing at least once!

9. One book that changed your life.
A Wrinkle in Time. I initially thought this was going to be a hard question to answer being that I loved so many books, but when I thought about it, I remembered that this book served as a sort of solace for me throughout my adolescent years as Madeline L’Engle writes about socially awkward, introverted and misunderstood teenage girls like no one else. Heck, I even had my own Charles Wallace, my bright baby brother that I ADORED and was extremely connected to. As sentimental as it sounds, this book provided me with companionship and a feeling of belonging that comforted me during a time that I could’ve felt like a complete misfit…so seriously, this book really did change my life.

Gracie and Muffin...

2006-09-16T23:51:00.000-07:00

The other day while visiting my precocious, whimsical, charming, quirky and slightly sensitive two-year-old niece Gracie, I was showing her a few photos of my private Hawaiian ceremony and said “see, there’s Uncle M.” To which she sweetly leaned over on the sofa and asked “Is he your boyfriend” (only it was like “boyshen’). Of course although I have no idea where she came up with this, I told her “well actually he’s my husband…we’re married. Do you know who else is married? Auntie Well and Uncle R are married and Amaxti and Papas are married…”

“And I can marry MAMA!!!!!” she announced excitedly…to which I told her, “You know who mama is married to? She’s married to dada!” Inadvertantly causing her to begin to get upset and well up with tears realizing she was the only one being left out of this whole marriage thing apparently. I didn’t quite know what to tell her, but she seemed to calm herself down and started to smile and announced “I can marry Muffin!”

“Sure! You can marry Muffin” I told her, turning to my sister to ask her if “Muffin” was a character from one of her books or television show or somewhere.

“No,” my sister informed me. “She’s talking about a muffin. Gracie loves to eat muffins.”

I see.

Crisis averted.

I think?

Things to love about Hawaii...

2006-09-08T19:07:00.000-07:00

1. The beaches. I had never been to Hawaii so I was uncertain about what to expect and a little worried that it was all gonna be too touristy and crowded, but it turns out there are so many beaches that you can find exactly the one that suits you, including fairly secluded ones and whichever beach you choose has the clearest water, you can actually see your own feet!! I was in Santa Barbara last week and I actually said “Ick” when I saw the beach and imeediately realized that I have become a spoiled brat.

2. The Aloha Spirit. Everyone kept talking about this “Aloha Spirit” and until I was actually in Hawaii, I couldn’t fully appreciate the laid back, calm, friendly vibe the island seems to create. I loved it! Hawaiin culture does tend to have a bit of corniness with their Ukelele’s and Hawaiin shirts and spam (the canned meat not the kind you get e-mailed to you) and grass bedskirts, but in Hawaii it somehow all just works and you are overcome with the Aloha Spirit and come to embrace what you once viewed as a little corny.

3. The clouds. They move so quickly in Hawaii, you can’t help but remember how to cloudwatch.

4. Ice. You can literally make a meal of just ice…well and syrup too. I am quite the healthy eater, but after a morning in the water and sun a cup of shaved ice turns out to be quite satisfying. I strongly recommend adding a scoop of ice cream at the bottom. I know what you are thinking “Ice AND Ice cream together Square? Now that’s just craaaaazy talk!”, but trust me it’s a combination made in the paradise that is Hawaii.

5. Aloha. It means both “goodbye” AND “hello” as well as “I love you”. You’d think that’d get confusing, but it doesn’t.

6. The flowers and plantlife. Beautiful!! And soooo fragrant!

7. The culture. Hawaii has a rich culture and history that most local Hawaiins seeem to value and respect, which is something that seems to be missing in most America…there is an amazing respect for the land and Hawaii’s history, which is typically passed down orally and through chanting…we wer’e both blessed to get to hear our first Hawaiin chant at our wedding ceremony.

8. The rainbows. When I first saw that the Hawaiin lisence plates were white with a rainbow on them, I thought it was kinda silly. This of course was until I realized that you see so many rainbows in Hawaii. I saw three in one day (the day before our ceremony) and was told by Manulele (our officiant) that this was a very good sign.

9. The Sunsets. Amazing. Even the dogs stop to enjoy the sunset.

Aloha!
SquareGirl

goin' to Hawai'i...

2006-08-07T21:59:00.000-07:00

...and I’m gonna get marararied…

No Church, just sand…ahhhhh.

No rows of guests, just fish…ahhhh.

No uncomfortable shoes, just our bare feet in the sand…ahhhh.

No photos…well, maybe a couple photos.

No reception, no parties, no candle lighting, no bridal party, no stress, just the ocean and the sand and the seagulls and me and my guy and the minister and an orchid or two…ahhhhhhhhhhhh.

Not that I've been very actively bloggin lately, I'll see you all in a couple weeks!

SquareGirl’s Movie Trailer Reviews #5

2006-08-04T23:42:00.000-07:00

Because apparently I have lost all inspiration or creativity to write anything else (I blame the weather…it is darn hot here in So. Cal. It must be depleting some brain cells)

Little Miss Sunshine

Hysterical. A must see. A trailer about a dysfunctional family including a teenage son who has voluntarily given up on speaking because of his devotion towards Neitzche, a melancholy Steve Carrell (you know, the guy from the Office and the 40-Year-Old-Virgin) who is depressed over losing the love of his life,who was a graduate student of his and also a male, an overly optimistic motivational speaker played by Greg Kinnear, who has a drug addicted father and a plain-jane (yet adorable in her own way) daughter who has by default, made a place in the “Little Miss Sunshine” pageant many, many miles a way. I literally laughed out loud.

Snakes on a plane

Seriously. This is a movie trailer about snakes. On a plane. This is a movie trailer about Snakes ON a plane. I’m not kidding you. Snakes snaking through the aisles, lunging at passengers…on a plane. Yes, the entire trailer features scary snakes aboard a plane. And no, it’s not a joke (I was suspicious). And for some reason Samuel L. Jackson is in it as apparently playing a Jedi Knight does not actually give one the wisdom and sense one might expect. Warning: This trailer is not for the skeptical of heart.

Spiderman 3

Oooooohhh. We have finally reached the point of the series where the superhero explores his darker side. So in this movie we get a much darker (and I literally mean darker, his suit turns from red and blue to black) Spiderman. There are inferences of betrayal (shots that imply that Mary Jane is gonna kiss that guy who used to be Parker’s BFF and Parker grasping at what appears to be his wedding band floating away from him). Being that I’m a sucker for Superhero trailers, I thought this one was pretty good and would definitely recommend you arrive early to Pirates of The Carribean: Dead Man’s Chest in order to catch it.

SquareGirl’s Movie Trailer Reviews #4 (at least I think it’s #4)

2006-07-10T23:17:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: I ended up seeing like a cajillion movie trailers (okay maybe not a cajillion, but at least eight) so I will only review the ones I remember. And of course even those that I remember I may have forgotten important details. The titles for instance.

FUN FUR ALL

Get it? Fun “Fur” all? Hahaha. I never would have thunk of that! Needless to say, this trailer was about a bear, a domesticated bear in fact who lived in a garage and was named Boog (or something like that, and even had a doggie, I mean Bearrie bowl with his name on it), until one day a (sorry I have no idea what kind of animal it was only that it was voiced by Ashton Kuther) introduces Boog to the wild and then hijinks ensue. There are lots of furry critters eating wood and protecting themselves against hunters ETCETERA, ETCETERA.

THE ANT BULLY

Yes, another animated animal movie, because we absolutely cannot get enough of those I suppose. There is a boy and some ants who shrink the boy down to ant-size and an exterminator who the shrunk-down boy rallies the ants against and that’s all I remember before the next animal movie trailer called…

CHARLOTTES WEB!

Ta Daaaaah! WOW! Special effects have finally evolved to the point where we can now make Charlottes Web with REAL LIVE actors! And of course the fact that there is a girl under the age of thirteen in the book/cartoon/movie, we should all not be surprised that Dakota Fanning plays Fern. And Julia Roberts voices Charlotte (and by the way, I forgot to mention that she also plays a voice in THE ANT BULLY, which would be pretty unimportant except for the fact that she voices not one but TWO insects, assuming a spider is an insect which if I remember it isn’t, this summer).

THE ESCAPE CLAUSE

I think it’’s actually SANTA CLAUSE:3 The Escape Clause, but being that I never realized there was a Santa Clause 2, I’ll use THE ESCAPE CLAUSE as the title to this trailer. Anayways, Tim Allen as Mr. Clause again and Martin Short as Jack Frost who resents Santa’s popularity and attempts to usurp that, eventually taking advantage of the “Escape Clause” reversing time and discovering dead Santa’s body and becoming Santa instead of Tim Allen and to be honest I suppose you had to be there. Funny, because Martin Short makes me laugh for the most part.

Square's turning 33!

2006-07-03T21:22:00.000-07:00

I tend to accumulate nicknames. Very few people who know me well actually call me by my real first name. And I say I accumulate nicknameS because I have several. In fact it can be very convenient because depending on what my friends call me reminds me of when and where I met them. In college for example I was initially “Alanis” (it was when Alanis Morrisette was popular…and no it wasn’t because I was an angry female or a singer), which became “Atlantis” which became “Space Shuttle Atlantis” or “Lost city of Atlantis” whenever I said something that made me sound, well, spacey. Or lost. I heard that one quite often. I was always referred to as “Atlantis” and often people were surprised when they found out that “Atlantis” wasn’t actually my name. I must make it clear that I have never CHOSEN the nicknames I’ve acquired (no, not even SquareGirl), but I learned it is best not to attempt to avoid them. Just sigh and accept they are a part of who you are, and then you can actually enjoy being say “Square” rather than try to convince yourself your actually cool.

Tomorrow is Independence day here in the good ole US of A and happens to be my birthday (I’ll be 33 so technically not a “girl”, but “SquareGirl” nonetheless) and for this reason and the fact that apparently I look like an all-American gal, I am referred to as “Miss America” by a specific group of friends. It is my least favorite nickname, but just as I’ve learned to accept my squareness, I’m coming to terms with it.

So Happy Independence Day to any American Square enough to be blogging today! And if you get a chance, light a sparkler in the name of all Squares everywhere!

Me and my auntie Square!

2006-06-25T09:07:00.000-07:00

Today get to take care of my nephew while my sister and brother-in-law go to the Dodger game (as Dodger Stadium is ten minutes from my apartment). And while I babysit quite often, it is usually AT the location of my neices or nephew's, thus in a more baby proof environment. The last time I watched my nephew at my place I realized just how NON-babyproof my apartment actually is and wrote this post on another site:

Dear Mamma and D-A-D Dad,
I like our house and all, really I do, but after hangin out at auntie Square’s last night I realized that our house really isn’t very baby FRIENDLY after all. Let me show you what I mean…

See! SquareGirl's doors actually OPEN and are not stuck together (by the way, her toilet seat opens too). and why is this? That’s because Auntie Square TRUSTS me mom…you ever hear of that word? "TRUST"? Maybe YOU should try it sometime.

Oh yes, and the shelves…look at all these fun things for me to pull down...er I mean, look at.

Auntie Square has an actual fireplace, the perfect size for me to walk into. I tried.

See that vase behind me? It is totally real live genuine GLASS. And these candleholders? Much better than any of the toys you sent with me.

And let’s talk about the television set…It’s my perfect height! I can touch it and everything! AND auntie Square let ME hold the remote…see? I liked the news. That Sesame Street DVD is getting a little old.

Oh yeah, and that whole eating in a high chair thing you make me do? Well auntie Square doesn’t believe in those restrictive chairs so at her house eating time is actually fun…eat a bite and run, another bite then play some more…really mom, you can learn a thing or two from her.

All in all it was a wonderful night with my auntie Square, and I am quite sure that midway through the evening, she could hardly even wait to start having kids of her own.

Love,
Your son

I think this time I'll take him to the park.

So glad i'm it!

2006-06-22T20:16:00.000-07:00

Upon completing this post, I became very glad about being tagged by MOM-NOS as it gave me a good reason to go back into her archives and re-read some of my favorite Bud posts, so thanks MOM-NOS for including me in this game of tag.

I’m generally not a fan of tag and probably normally wouldn’t want to participate, but I’ve been tagged by MOM-NOS who happens to be one of my favorite bloggers of the entire blogosphere. Her blog is one of the first I ever discovered and fell in love with her writing and her son Bud so much so that hers is the first and only blog that I went through and read EVERY. SINGLE . POST. So for her and Bud, I am actually more than happy to join this game of tag. So here goes…

Oh and if you haven’t been reading MOM-NOS, I suggest you skip this list and hop right on over there right now and get acquainted with her entertaining, charming, stunning, heart-warming and occasionally heart-wrenching posts about her experiences with her delightful son Bud.

5 things in my refrigerator

Tortillas (always, always, always have tortillas in my fridge…their my staple)

Tomato juice (that I bought over a month ago because I had an unexplainable craving for it when I was at the grocery store and have yet to even open it)

Snow peas

Easy home-made chili/salsa (a small can of tomato sauce, fresh chopped cilantro, finely chopped onion, chopped serano chili, crushed red pepper flakes…I like mine really spicy and put it on everything, eggs, chicken, baked potato…yum!)

Garlic (another Square staple)

5 things in my closet (significantly less than before now that I’ve cleaned a lot of it out)

My Clippers Hat

Make that two Clippers caps and two Clippers beanies.

That’s five! ...oh wait, it’s actually four.

My favorite groovy embroidered scarf.

5 things in my purse

A travel-size dental pick (gross, I know, but not as gross as stuff in your teeth…did I mention that my childhood dream was to become a dentist?)

Postage stamps (cause you never know when you’re gonna need postage stamps)

3 library cards (that reminds me, I have an overdue book that I need to return tomorrow)

A keychain with photos of my niece and nephew (gonna update to include my newest niece when I get a photo)

A rubber band (Because a Squaregirl needs to be able to throw her hair up in a moments notice)

5 things in my car (mind you, it’s new-ish, so there is really not much)

An extension for an ipod (I don’t actually own an ipod, but I’ve actually used the extension when other people with ipod’s were in my car)

Change (for meters and newspaper and postage stamps and stuff. I realized after I traded in my Jetta that I actually still had at leas forty dollars in change in the ashtray, darnit!)

Various CD’s (Curious George soundtrack, Depeche Mode, Indigo Girls, David Bowie, Lyle Lovett, Johnny Cash, U2...my music taste is somewhat eclectic)

Post-it notes with a principal or positive phrase to contemplate for the day (Yes, I know…I sound like a nut!)

A Thomas Guide (I live in Southern California, so it’s a must for me)

5 friends I am tagging (hmmmm, never been a huge fan of tag and not great with rules, so I’m not gonna pressure anyone to do this, but lemesee…)

Minka (unless you’ve done this one)

You know, Almost all the other blogs I read have either already done this, or I can’t imagine that they would…so anyone who might, Tag. You are now it.

I have c-list celebrities calling me now!

2006-06-21T21:57:00.000-07:00

This evening I received a phone message from Carmen Electra. Really. Yes it sounded like a recorded message, but nonetheless it went something like this: "Heeellloooo there! It's me Carmen Eelllleeeectraaa and I had to call to say heeelooo and tell you how I've teamed up with Dr. Phil.." (hold on there...what the heck? Carmen Electra and Dr. Phil? Is this for reals?) "...to team up with a new numner that you can call to meet up with available singles in your area..."

I can't tell you the rest.

Because I hung up.

Seriously? Carmen Electra and Dr. Phil? A dating servie?

No thanks.

And I really wish I were making this all up...

Happy Birthday Paul McCartney!

2006-06-19T18:43:00.000-07:00

Hope you got the valentine birthday greeting and the bottle of wine!

And of course we still need you and surely someone will feed you now that your sixty-four!

What a Mess!

2006-06-16T18:23:00.000-07:00

This has been my 2 year old nieces newest favorite catch phrase, which she uses whenever she anything out of place or say drops like 2 cheerios, being quite the fastidious little girl. Needless to say, my home sweet home has become quite the mess with piles of clothes draped here and there, as I begin the process of simplifying, re-organizing and downsizing, getting the energy flowing if you will, in my living space. I won’t bore you with details here, but BIG changes are on the horizon for this Square…

So in my downsizing efforts, I have chosen to start with the closets (yes “closets”, I have three). I have resisted doing so in quite a while, mostly because it means admitting to myself that I will never be the effortless size six I used to be and because I really like some of my smaller clothes, I have maintained the delusion that I would be able to wear them again one day.

But I’m stepping into reality. My niece (well she’s not technically my niece, but my “niece” nonetheless) is graduating from high school today and will be working at USC over the summer so although her style is more of the groovy, punk, mod eighties thing that kids are doing these days, she’s always liked my clothes and tells me she’d be more than happy to inherit some of them, making it much easier for me to detatch from them knowing that someone will appreciate them (yes, I know, it’s only clothes).

Needless to say, I am creating different piles of clothes around my house based on where they will be going and I am actually realizing quite a lot by looking at things I used to wear…

For example, see that dress with the groovy print? Well, by hanging it in the window, I am realizing that it is quite, er, transparent. And while I can’t remember exactly everytime I wore this dress, I do know that I once wore it to a Picasso exhibit at the Norton Simon museum a few years back, and to everyone there, I apologize…I am just not fussy enough of a person to wear slips and such...but I really had no idea exactly how sheer it actually was…so I really hope you’ll accept my apology…

And that turquoise shirt, pretty huh? Well at least I think so…It’s actually Versace and the most design-ery piece of clothing I have ever owned, bought for me by my good friend Chris...(Dear Chris, I appreciate the shirt, really I do, it is soooo my color. And I know that in your five foot, ninety-five pound, size zero world that this “Large” actually seems large, BUT seriously girl, that is not a “large” shirt…well, I hope not at least).

Does it look “large” to any of you?

Needless to say, I have only just begun…after the closets comes the bigger projects, i.e. dismantling my office/guest bedroom that rarely gets used, moving my current bedroom into aforementioned office/guest bedroom, moving my television into my current bedroom, re-painting the walls a new color (don’t actually know what color yet) No more T.V. in the livingroom, more yoga and reading, less STUFF. I am in the process of further simplifying my life and unplugging…Of course something tells my DSL will be the last to go…

I suppose it's gonna get messier in order to get better, but isn't that how it always goes?

Have you ever...

2006-06-15T20:35:00.000-07:00

suddenly heard loud music right outside of your house and gone to the window to see if there’s a guy with a trench coat holding a boom box over his head (Not necessarily in your direction of course).

No?

Oh.

Um, me neither.

Conversations with MamaSquare

2006-06-14T20:19:00.000-07:00

SquareSis, you'll appreciate this one!

MamaSquare has a tendency to start her dialogue in what sounds like the middle of a conversation. My theory is that she can never remember which part of which conversation she has had with each of her five children and seems to think that we must all telepathically communicate and know what she has told one or the other of us. When we lived together it was easier…we can piece together parts of our own conversation with her to collectively come up with one sensible (depending on how you look at it) conversation. But my MamaSquare tends to call me and begin talking to me with the assumption that I’m up to speed…and our conversations tend to be pretty amusing to me (although indeed very serious and important to her). Last Friday night the phone rang and our conversation went something like this:

SG: Hey mom! (I have caller ID)

MamaSq: Hey beautiful! (we’re all “beautiful” or “pumpkin” usually) So you can get a bowl or a leash or a collar…

SG: Huh? Wait, mom, what are you talking about?

MS: For your father.

SG: I see…why a bowl and a leash?

MS: Oh, well I got him a puppy. For Father’s day.

SG: Wait! Is Father’s day this Sunday? And I thought you said you weren’t getting a dog again? (Which she’s been saying adamantly for the last four years when our family dog went to doggie heaven. In fact were instructed to NEVER get her a dog EVER AGAIN.)

MS: Not this Sunday, the next Sunday. And I had to.

SG: I see, you had to…why did you “have to” again.

MS: Well you know me and you know how I say things without even thinking about it, well when me and your father were looking at the house tonight (after moving out of the old Victorian house that we grew up in being that all five kids had moved out and the house was HUGE, my parents decided to have a much smaller house built and it is currently in construction…needless to say the smaller house has four bedrooms and an office) I told him “well I guess now I have to get you a dog”…and his eyes lit up so I HAD to get one.

SG: Clearly. You HAD to get him one after making such a binding commitment. Wait, you said that to him tonight?

MS: Yes

SG: And you say you already have the dog.

MS: Yes. A golden retriever. It’s a girl and she doesn’t have a name yet because we want to get to know her better and find a name that matches her personality.

SG: How did you find this golden retriever? (coincidentally the breed of our beloved Goldie)

MS: Well turns out there were some in Covina so we went by and got one…so she needs a bowl and a leash and a collar and…oh wait! I have to get that call, I’ll call you right back.

She didn’t. Don't worry, I din't expect her to.

Square Girl's Weekend Movie Trailer Reviews #3

2006-06-11T18:06:00.000-07:00

THE LAKE HOUSE

As much as I appreciate the whole concept of the bending of the space and time continuum, this trailer about a woman (Sandra Bullock) living in a Lake House 2 years after a man (Keanu Reeves) lived there, yet somehow they were somehow there at the same time and date and could communicate with each other via letters. Highlights include Sandra leaving a scarf with a note explaining that there was a freak blizzard that day two years earlier (when he was living there) and a note from Sandra saying she missed the Lake House prompting Keanu to plant a tree from the Lake outside of her city apartment, that two years later (when Sandra’s) there is a fully grown tree. To be honest the trailer seemed a little silly to me…

LOWER CITY

Narrator: “Two friends” (screen shot of two men, obviously friends)

Narrator: “One woman” (screen shots of an attractive women)

This is followed by screen shots of the friends and the woman together (and narration I can’t remember). And a rapid succession of screenshots of the each friends with the woman, dancing, kissing, throwing glass bottles at wall.

SG's review: Huh?

WHO KILLED THE ELECTRIC CAR?

Interesting. Very interesting. This trailer starts by reminding us all that ten years ago we had a sleek, fast, cost-effective electric car that insured that our dependency on oil would be resolved by this car. It included footage of Tom Hanks praising it on David Letterman and some other various celebrity endorsement.

But! Dun, dun, dun…whatever happened to this amazing invention? Why did the electric car mysteriously disappear? Well according to our narrator (not the same narrator from “Lower City” by the way), the business of selling oil is not over as there is over a trillion dollars worth of oil still to be tapped into and sold. In other words, get this people, it is ALL ABOUT MONEY! GASP! Say it isn’t so in this ethical and honest country of ours! The trailer ends with Huell Howser interviewing one of the men in the junkyard who is shredding the electric cars asking why these cars are being destroyed and the man responding with “I don’t know. It’s just a mystery.”

Mysterious indeed!

And this time I'm sure!

2006-06-06T19:45:00.000-07:00

I’ve been voting since I was eighteen. It’s what we squares were always taught to do. Vote. And Recycle.

Which is why it was so disturbing durning the last presidential election when I showed up to the polls to find that somehow, my name had disappeared. So I was ushered to some line where I had to fill out a special form in order to possibly get my vote counted if all my information was correct and validated and some other nonsense.

And they gave me my sticker that I didn’t even want to wear because I wasn’t sure if my vote was gonna even count. Apparently this happened to a lot of people, and frankly I’m a little suspicious…I mean, they could find my name for a State Primary election apparently, but not the presidential election?

Perhaps you need some sort of clearance for that now…I suppose it’s in the Patriot Act or something.

God Bless America.

Sigh.

Hey sis, check it out!

2006-06-04T14:32:00.000-07:00

I thought those eyes looked familiar!

Nostalgia is dying...

2006-06-02T22:18:00.000-07:00

Apparently.

Sigh.

I received a letter from the school I attended from preschool to high-school graduation and it said…

“The Senior Class of 2006 is replacing all of the CIF banners as part of their Senior Gift. The new banners will all be identical and colorfast and we are excited about the new look. Rather than throw away the old banners, we’ve decided to AUCTION THEM OFF…”

I don’t know what to say…

I haven’t worn an official basketball jersey in over thirteen years (incidentally my jersey number), and I’m not a fan of the term “Glory Days”, BUT, I sincerely believe that Basketball plays a HUGE role in who I am today…teaching me the importance of teamwork, accountability, work ethic, sportsmanship, responsibility, humility, and responsibility. And our coach, who now suffers (maybe I shouldn’t say “suffers”, he seems quite happy) from Alzheimers, epitomized and lived those values.

The banners of team the that I played on…that I was co-captain of is being sold to the highest bidder…and I am pretty sure that it will be someone who will appreciate it. I don’t even want the banners, BUT…

When did being “colorfast” become a priority.? I don’t know why it matters, but it DOES. I don’t want those banners replaced. I don’t want to be “Colorfast” (what the heck is “colorfast” anyway?)

La-Di-da, I suppose. I guess I am being too sentimental…too nostalgic…too sensitive. I should be happy that our banners are being replaced by colorfast ones…

Unfortunately, I’m not

Again...
Sigh.

Our Newest Square!

2006-05-31T13:31:00.000-07:00

From my most recent conversation with Squaresis #3:

SG: Hey sis, can I post a photo of you and my nieces on my blog?

C: Sure! Wait…you have one?

So here is a photo of the latest Square addition (the one who weighed nine pounds, five ounces when she was born and defied expectations). Of course, we are not all that certain she is all that square yet. I’m a little suspect myself, being that her big sister (pictured) is a big fan of circles. I’m talking HUGE fan. She draws entire pages of circles and runs in circles when she is excited, all the while saying “Circle! Circle! Circle!” I suspect it may be a generational thing. Plus feet. She LOVES feet. Yes FEET.

So whether she’s gonna be a square or not, it is most likely that she’ll be a little quirky (believe me, it’s in her genes) and already is and will certainly be very well loved!

So thoughtful, those Clippers!

2006-05-30T19:12:00.000-07:00

They must be reading my blog.

The Clippers sent me a letter.

Looks like this site is turning out to be somewhat of a Clipper blog afterall!

Dear Square Girl,

On behalf of Donald T. Sterling and the entire Clippers organization, please accept our thanks for your undying support this season. (Why, you're welcome. My pleasure actually.) It has been a great season; full of record-breaking accomplishments – and you were there for each and every minute of it. (Yes I was, so nice of you to notice!)

Together, we were able to celebrate so many breathtaking experiences, including All Star Elton Brand's emergence as one of the NBA's elite performers (you can say that again), the development of Chris Kaman (yes, but someone really needs to work on helping his boost his confideence level a little bit more), and the introduction of Sam Cassell as the team's confident leader. (Amen!)

How about the tremendous growth of Shaun Livingston (Absolutely!), the steady influence of Cuttino Mobley (well sometimes anyway), as well as the consistent contributions of the ultimate warrior, Corey Maggette? (Well, except when he was injured. And whining about not being a starter. Plus the fact that you're probably gonna trade him before the next season...let's keep it real here!)

It all started with a franchise-best 9-2 start, and just kept rolling from there - all the way to a Los Angeles Clippers record 47 wins. And who will ever forget the sea of red and the Staples Center volume level during the playoffs? (Not Square Girl. I was there!)

The best part of it all was sharing it with you (aww shucks, that's really sweet of you to say). That's why I wanted to take a minute and send off this letter as a tribute to you and to your huge role in our success (me? You mean little old me?).

It doesn't stop now. Via our Full Court E-Newsletter service, we will continue to update you with the latest Clippers' information pertaining to the NBA Draft, team transactions, special offers and much, much more. And drop in at www.clippers.com every time you get a chance to keep up with all the happenings in the Clipper Nation.

We wish you the very best this off-season (thanks! You too!), and can't wait to see you at Staples Center for an even bigger and better 2006-07 (Right back at ya! Now this doesn't mean your gonna go and raise the ticket prices on us again does it?).

Sincerely,
Andy Roeser
Executive Vice President

Baseball Season has begun!

2006-05-29T13:10:00.000-07:00

Well at least for Square Girl.

Baseball season actually has been well underway in the good ole U.S. of A., but I’ve been in denial about it because:

1) I had been devoting all my energy, good luck, positive vibes to my favorite basketball team, The Clippers while they were in the playoffs (I’m a one sport at a time gal)
2) I have been in mourning about the Clippers loss last week and have not been quite ready to move on to the next sport.

And I’ve had no good reason to move on and embrace the baseball season UNTIL I was e-mailed this photo of my favorite sister (oh hush C. and T. you know your ALL my favorite) and my favorite (and only) nephew.

So now that I have a good reason to move on and enjoy baseball again, it’s root, root, root for the home team! Because at least for Square Girl, baseball season has just begun.

My Little Weather Man

2006-05-28T11:05:00.000-07:00

What’s the weather like today, like today, like today? What’s the weather like today…?

The weather is…Sunny!

Yesterday it was cloudy. Tuesday, quite sunny and Monday was rainy.

I perseverate on the weather. And seasons. And the lunar cycle (the next full moon in Southern California will be June 11th). Mostly because I think all of these things have an effect on any living, breathing organism and as I believe that autism is a magnifier of our environment, I think the these things have an even greater impact on individuals with ASD.

What’s the weather like Today? Is a script from a children’s book that I read to my class per my friend’s Stephen’s request during circle time. I cannot think about the weather without thinking about my little friend Stephen who had an avid appreciation for the weather and seasons as well. “My little weather man” is what I used to call him, and his morning job was to report the weather each day to our class and make sure the arrow pointed to the appropriate description on our weather circle (although someone needs to redesign one of those for Southern California…perhaps replace “Snowy” with “Smoggy” among other things). And whenever the weather changed during the day, he made sure to let me know “Miss Squaregirl, I’ts sunny! It’s not cloudy. Uh-oh! Look Miss SquareGirl, Sunny! Its’ sunny! See? It’s not cloudy!” To which I would respond, “Thanks Stephen! Well you better go change the weather report then!” And he would proudly run up to the front of the classroom to reposition the arrow to the correct picture.

And every morning, as soon as he entered the room, he wanted to talk to me about the season. Two days after it became winter, he began to ask me “Is it Spring? When is Spring? When is it Spring?” to which I would tell him “Not yet Stephen. It’s not Spring yet. It’s (number) many days until Spring.” And we would often go to the calendar and count off the days together. But Stephen really wanted it to be Spring. And everyday, he would ask me about Spring, want to talk about Spring, almost NEED it to be Spring, until one day, about three weeks before Spring, he asked me “Miss SG. Is it Spring?” and when I replied “Not yet Stephen. It’s not Spring yet.” He smiled at me triumphantly and announced “Yes it is! It’s Spring! The mom said! THE mom said it’s Spring! It’s Spring!” (Everyone was “THE” to Stephen “THE mom”, “THE twin”, etc.)

And I’m pretty certain that she did. Ahhh, the moral dilemmas of a teacher…Tell Stephen that it still wasn’t Spring (and THE mom was wrong) or let Spring into our little classroom a few weeks early?

I’ll leave it up to you to guess how I handled, but am curious what would those of you reading this do???

But I couldn’t help but wonder…why Spring? Why was it so important to Stephen to be Spring? He never asked how long until winter or even summer, but he looked forward to Spring ALL WINTER long.
I myself have a particular fondness for Spring. I find myself enjoying the mixture of rain and sunshine and longer days, anticipating my frequent summertime trips to the beach where the sun and the ocean induce calm and peacefulness in me. And while I love the winter holiday season (the spending time with friends and family part, NOT the consumer part of it), I find winter to be a little more dreary. I’ve read studies that talk about higher instances of depression, alcoholism and suicide in locations that don’t see as much sun, so I can’t help but think that we might find many some answers to questions we have about human behavior if we were to really study the impact of weather and seasons.

In the meantime, I make my own independent observations, noting the weather before I leave my house in order to anticipate the possible changes in behaviors that I might be seeing in myself and my little friends.

And of course, remembering that it is indeed Spring at knowing that my friend Stephen is happy. And so am I.

That Clipper Spirit

2006-05-23T21:24:00.000-07:00

I have a confession to make. This blog was gonna be a blog completely dedicated to the Clippers.

Yes. The Clippers.

You know, the NBA basketball team from L.A.

The one that DOESN’T wear purple and gold.

And yes, there is another team besides the Lakers in L.A. Really.

I mean what else is a very square girl supposed to blog about?
Myself? Too personal and too boring.
Autism? Too controversial and intense, at least for me, to devote an entire blog to.

So yes, I strongly considered dedicating this blog to the Clipper Basketball team and in case you find it hard to believe, you can read my very first post about my love for Sam Cassell, which will erase all doubts of my intent and perhaps raise new ones about my sanity.

This basketball season began like any other season for me. Me telling all my friends and family that the Clippers were gonna be good this year, to which they responded with “sure…they’re the Clippers”. In other words, not THE LAKERS. They have no Kobe, no Odom…oh wait, they used to have Odom (poor Lamar).

And well, it ended last night in a less than stellar seventh game match against the Phoenix Suns who they could’ve beat in a couple of earlier games. And goshdarnit, I’m sure they could’ve beat Dallas too if they moved on.

But, I got to see all the home games at the Staples center for $15.00 each which included a free t-shirt at each game!

And I got a good couple weeks of teasing my Laker fan brother-in-law, who reminded me to look at the banners, as those Laker fans like to do when anyone dares talk badly about their beloved team.

And, maybe, just maybe, there are people out there who happened to catch a game or two as they were flipping through their cable stations (Unlike the Lakers, the Clippers only can be seen on cable during the playoffs) and realized that the Clippers are good. Really good. And as I mentioned in this post, pretty drama-free (In fact their big star Elton Brand was voted sportsman of the year by his fellow NBA players).

So it’s over. But it was fun while it lasted. And I got to see my Clippers play like the team I have always known they could be. Even if I have endured a lot of taunting about it over the last six years.

So to all of you Clipper players reading this right now, Congratulations on a great season and I’m looking forward to the next…even though I have a feeling the prices on my package seats is gonna be a little higher next year.

Peace,
Square Girl

Square Girl's Weekend Movie Trailer Reviews #2

2006-05-15T21:11:00.000-07:00

For Square Girl's previous movie trailer reviews, go here.

Over the Hedge

Over The Hedge was a delightful little trailer about a ragtag bunch of squirrels and hedgehogs and porcupines and a turtle who were attempting to get, you guessed it…Over the Hedge. Their ultimate destination? A refrigerator stocked with food. The critters were cute and charming and amusing, but being that this was the trailer and NOT the actual movie, it is left up to the imagination whether or not the critters actually make it over the hedge, but I suspect they do. Definitely a recommended trailer.

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest

Again we have Johnny Depp as the ambiguously sexually oriented, ambiguously inebriated Jack Sparrow, in addition to the lovely Kiera Knightly dressed as a male to fool those savvy pirates (although how anyone could EVER mistake Kiera Knightly for a male is beyond me) and a bunch of what seemed to be dead and haunted pirates with tentacles where their beards should be. In fact this trailer contained a lot of various sized tentacles, which was only semi-alarming for someone overcoming her fear of snakes (I’ve nearly done it). It was a fun little trailer and capped off by a fun little repartee between Kiera and Johnny in Kiera says (WARNING SPOILER ALERT) “There’s going to be a time when you have the chance to do the right thing”, to which Johnny/Jack responds, “I love those moments…I like to wave at them as they pass me by.” Oh, that Jack Sparrow!

Click

This is an Adam Sandler trailer, so in other words, the trailer is pretty good and the movie will most likely be really silly or just plain bad. Needless to say, I laughed occasionally in this trailer about a married father who discovered a remote that could stop, reverse and forward time. I have to admit, it reminded me a little, well a lot actually, of Bruce Almighty with Jim Carrey and I’m sure that no one would have ever imagined that Adam would have used his remote to beat up a boss, get the neighborhood bully hit by a baseball and “recall” the song playing during his first kiss with his wife who hugs him and thinks that he is saying I love you to her, when he is actually saying it to the remote. So if you find those things remotely (haha) funny, I apologize for ruining every joke in the trailer, but of course, there is always the movie.

Uninvited Guest

2006-04-26T17:02:00.000-07:00

That pesky little stomach flu bug.

I just got rid of him.

Usually I like guests, I really do. But this one was not only uninvited, but overstayed it's non-welcome...almost a week! He had been going around from what I hear, from uninvited place to uninvited place, but my understanding is that he only stayed a day or two...Needless to say, last week, while visiting my little friend Caleb, who is three, he (Caleb) plopped himself right down on my lap to snuggle with me as I met with his family and team of therapists. I was touched. It was sweet. Caleb and I had a strong bond I walways felt, until...it happened. Caleb, threw up everywhere. Including on me (hair and all). I work with children, so this sort of thing has happened to me before. I survived, or so I thought, until the next day when I realized that Caleb had oh-so-generously shared his little visiting flu bug with me and I too was unable to keep anything down (I apologize for sharing) for almost an entire week. This is a long time, or so people kept telling me. Calebs flu came and went in 24 hours, as did nearly everyone else I heard about who "caught" the same bug, but my uninvited guest must have been quite at home because he stayed and kept me on nothing but water for the week.

But now he is gone, THANKFULLY. And I can eat again (Hooray!). I love food, so I am sure it won't take me more than a week to re-find those five pounds I somehow lost while my uninvited guest was here.

It's just nice to have the place back to myself again.

Acessing ability

2006-04-19T14:38:00.000-07:00

(In addition to Presuming it.)

Our dream lives (or at least my dreams) indicate that there is a lot more information, ideas, worlds, words, complexities in our brains than we can access at anytime. Hidden memories, imaginary (or forgotten) worlds, works of art, poetry among other things often show up in our (again, at least mine) dreams that we don’t seem to have access to when we are awake. I often find that it seems like someone may not know something when the reality of it is that they are simply unable to access it. One of the first things taught when it comes to test-taking strategy is to try whenever possible to take the test the same location you were when you learned the material. I will never forget my college Physics 2000 classroom where I took all of my undergrad science classes due to the size of the class, tests were administered in assigned seating. I remember one particular Chemistry test that I took and it simply felt like I lost most of the information I clearly knew the preceeding weeks, and in fact the night after one of my tests I remember dreaming about the test and realizing that I had gotten some answers wrong, because in my dream I somehow realized the right answers (When I woke up I double checked and realized that I had the correct answers in my dream, but not on the test…sigh.) Needless to say, I thought about this and realized that I always, always, always sat towards the right center of the professor (facing him, he was to my left) in each and every class I had in that room (I really don’t know why, it is just where I liked to sit), but when I took this chemistry test, I was assigned to the left side of the room…and yes, this seems odd to me too, but for some strange reason it makes sense. Needless to say, when I am teaching my students I often think that in addition to teaching (or perhaps instead of), my job is to help my little friends access what is already there. Many parents I work with often tell me that their child knew the information but they seem to have “lost” it. It often seems to me that there is so much that my friends know and understand, yet are either unable to access the information or unable to access the language to communicate to me what they know. That being the case, I think it is my job to provide a variety of stimuli (verbal, visual, tactile, books, songs, stories, pictures) in order to help the my friends to both access what is already there and to find a way to show me what they know. By doing this, I often am pleasantly surprised to find out what one of my students already knows.

William always serves as my biggest reminder of the knowledge that exists inside, yet is not demonstrated perhaps due to a lack of resources. His IEP and all of his reports indicated that he was non-verbal, unable to identify numbers, letters, shapes, colors…to be completely honest, according to his reports there was very little that William actually was able to do. Yet when I was able to tune my ears to his previously seeming indiscriminate noises and sounds, I realized that William actually was using words, not just verbally stimming “jiipppaaawwwabbaabbbdddeellllllleeddeebbeaaaabbbbaabbaaddabbblle” noises…When calling him over to Circle time one morning, as he walked in circles with one hand to his chest and my aides were telling him to “come sit down” William, I suddenly “heard” William. “Stop” I told my aides. By this time, William had stopped his babbling and I looked at him and said “William, I pledge allegiance…” and he proceeded to finish the entire pledge and this time we all “heard” it with our newly tuned ears. The interesting thing is that my class never recited the Pledge of Allegiance so I had to make the assumption that it was something that had been done in his previous classroom…a classroom which according to the reports, IEP and consultant who came to visit us periodically in our classroom, he had never participated in, but stayed to himself to play with dry rice and farm animals and chew his blue chewy tube. Somehow, he managed to “learn” the pledge, as well as many other skills he demonstrated to us later, even when he didn’t appear to be learning or participating. In addition, it seemed like the more we “heard” William, the more he “spoke” to us. I remember the day we had a sub for his 1:1 aide he was speaking to the aide and I turned toward her and said, “He wants to play with the animals and the ABC puzzle. He likes to spell out the names of the animals”, and the aide looked at me and asked me how on earth I knew that…well he had just said it. It was clear as day to me. But the confused look of doubt on the aides face made me realize that William’s speech might not have been getting clearer as I had previously thought, but my listening had certainly improved. And as my and the classroom aides listening improved, we would remind each other to provide more and more opportunities to help our students access information and communicate what they already knew. In addition, it was our job to “listen” to the language and behavior that served as communication in order to help them communicate their more complex thoughts and feelings that they may not have the access to particular words to do so for themselves quite yet. So farm animals paired with magnetic letters showed us William knew how to spell (his low tone made it hard for him to write out legible letters, but he was working on it!). Big books and stories (and better ears) showed us that William could sight read many words. Green clay rolled out into long thin snakes showed us that he could manipulate them into letters and that he knew all the letters of the alphabet and in which order. And the day his regular aide Amy was out sick, and he grabbed my hand and told me “Iwwaaehbesez” (I want ABC’s, meaning I want the green clay that I make ABC’s with) and he spelled out “AMY” instead of his usual “ABCDE...”, my new and improved listening (courtesy of my teacher William) heard him telling me “I love Amy and I miss her. She does this with me and this is something we enjoy doing together. Amy is my friend and I wish she was here today. Where is Amy today SquareGirl?” Of course William could’ve just told me “Iwaaahehmee”, but really…what would I have learned about William, of what he is capable of, of what he is really trying to tell me about his dear friend Amy, and how would I continue to improve my own listening skills if he had just told me that? My little friends, especially my sweet red-headed, buck toothed, freckle faced William, are much to profound and poetic for that

Learning to Fib

2006-04-17T22:01:00.000-07:00

THUD.

Oh, excuse me, that was just the sound of me jumping on the Fibbery Bandwagon. And while I don’t make it a personal habit to go bandwagon jumping in general, we’re talking about Poetry AND Numbers here, and as you might imagine, we Squares LOVE those numbers…in fact I read an article where J.J. Abrams says the numbers from his show LOST don’t mean anything and I’m still determined to figure out their significance. How’s that for perseveration er, I mean persistence?

And the fibonnaci sequence, I mean who isn’t completely fascinated by it? Oh…just me again?

So after learning about fibs and GottaBook from Kristina who writes a fib about Charlie, I decided to get on board and make up my own fibs…and you know what? It’s actuall kinda fun to fib…so to quote one of my favorite doctors and authors:

“Try it, try it and you may! Try it and you may, I say!”

My First Fib,
by Square Girl

Fibs?
Fun!
Numbers!!!
Poetry!!!!!
This could last for hours.
Such entertainment for a Square.

Uh-Oh

2006-04-14T12:17:00.000-07:00

My newest superpower seems to be on the blink. I't raining again.

And I didn't even wash the Civic.

Welcome to Finland?

2006-04-13T13:38:00.000-07:00

The Autism Perspective is a magazine which intends to present treatments, perspectives, sevice options and personal stories without taking any sides. My favorite aspect to the magazine are the articles written by individuals with autism, and there are many. Two of the regular contributors are Donna Williams and Temple Grandin, who in the most recent addition talked about her life summarized what “helped make her successful” which were:

1. Mother’s great early education program
2. Talents were nurtured and developed
3. Mentors I had in high school
4. The right medications in my early 30’s. Not all people need medication.

In addition to this article by Dr. Grandin I enjoyed several others, but the one I found the most intriguing was written my a man with ASD named Stephen Shore, who travels worldwide, to consult and present at conferences about autism, all while observing and writing about the way different cultures seem to view and treat individuals with Autism. His latest article featured China, Finland and England. I must admit I know very little about Finland and it’s culture, but after reading about Stephen’s experiences there, I have taken more of an interest in the country…Here’s how he describes his experiences:

“What I found most striking about the community was that people with autism were accepted and integrated into the fabric of life just like everyone else. For example, here in the United states, it is seen as a rare exception that someone like me, who was diagnosed on the autism spectrum at two-and-a-half, could be finishing a doctoral dissertation and having a successful career and marriage. In many other cultures, even these accomplishements are just not possible. However, in Finland, I met one person with Aspberger Syndrome who has started a doctoral degree, another who is a psychologist, as well as many others who lead fulfilling and productive lives. For the people of Finland, and for what I gather in Scandanavia in general, the idea of autism and Aspberger Syndrome preventing people from gainful employment and true inclusion in society is as ludicrous as the need for glasses eliminationg the choice of becoming a teacher in the United Sates.”

And I wear glasses.

Finland huh? I never would have thought to look there.
But then, it seems the best things and places I find are the ones I’m not looking for.

Accepting the Messenger

2006-04-11T15:59:00.000-07:00

The Hidden Messages of Autism

I tend to believe that autism is here with a message. Perhaps it is to make the environment and society, cleaner, kinder, less superficial, more authentic, less judgemental and more loving. I tend to think it’s biggest message is acceptance. Let’s set aside this talk about “causes”, “labels”, “cures”, “treatments”, “wars” and meet on a common ground where what we want for our children and students: Acceptance.

I have the opportunity to work with parents and to witness their journey as they go through stages of denial, outrage, grief, suffering, anger, acceptance and love in varying degrees and in varying order. I have learned the importance of meeting each parent where they are at on their path and accepting exactly where they are right now. In fact, I often apply this principal to the children when a parent asks me if they will “talk more” or “get better” or “learn new skills” or “have friends”, etc. and I tell them, “We are trying to help (your child) reach his/her maximum potential…there is so much in there, but we have to remember to love him/her exactly as s/he is right now. The more you concentrate on the perfection of your child and the wonderful things s/he is doing, the more you will see.” And my point is that on this journey, acceptance is key to growth. And I need to accept the parent exactly where they are at on their journey. Without judgement.

My own parents worked at a nonprofit: A church/school/sports organization for children with the motto “Their Future is Now” that my grandfather founded. Everyone who worked there made a very small stipened and were expected to volunteer nearly all of their time, including free time at the many, many events and activities (afterall, they were helping tomorrow’s youth). My mom, the most giving and kind person I’ve ever known, would back out of many of these volunteering opportunities despite pressure from the many of the other employees there and when I became an adult, she explained to me that she couldn’t imagine teaching other people’s children if she couldn’t even be there for her own. “Charity really does begin in the home”, she would tell me…meaning that people needed to teach morals and values to their own children first if they want to make a difference.

When I think of the maxim “Charity begins in the home”, I can’t help but be reminded that Ghandi told us to “Be the change you seek in the world.” And I realize that when I criticize society for not being accepting, it is MY responsibility to create change within myself. And when I look at the autism community, including parents, (some) teacher’s, adults with (insert word of choice here), I can’t help but think the one thing we all have in common is a desire for acceptance of diversity within society. But is it possible that we need to “be the change”? Is it possible that we are alienating people on their own journey of self-acceptance by judging them for being angry or sad or still looking for an answer, a solution a (gasp) cure? I have received several personal e-mails from parents who feel like they are being criticized and judged because they are trying a therapy that seems to be working, yet others insist that it means they are trying to “change” their child, and not accept them for who they are (ah, the irony). The e-mails I have received have mostly been parents of newly diagnosed children and they feel hurt and rejected by a blogging community that they had hoped to find support from.

I look at a teacher (in and out of the classroom), like Kristina, who really seem to accept each and every person where they are at on their journey and I can see that this change, this charity, this acceptance really did begin in the home. Perhaps, if a message of autism is acceptance, we need to focus not only on accepting those with a diagnosis of autism or those that consider themselves to be neurodiverse, but of accepting one another. Wherever we all are on our journey.

Peace,
SquareGirl

Shoelace Tying Teacher...

2006-04-10T14:33:00.000-07:00

perhaps that should be what I should say I am.

Yesterday, while eating a sandwich at the park in front of my local library I watched the children on their bicycles across the street and the dogs that were with their owners in the park and I must have been smiling. Everyone walking past me said “hello” and I remember thinking how lovely people are. A grown man who was chronically about forty years old, but developmentally quite younger passed me by and I said “hello” and then walked perhaps fifty yards or so, passing several other people along the way, before turning around, walking back to me and asked me “can you tie my knots?” “Sure” I told him as I noticed that one of his shoelaces was rather long and coming untied, so as I bent down to retie his shoelaces for him, I asked him who tied them for him when he put them on “I did” he told me. The knots on both of his shoes were rather interesting, as was the was the laces had been thread through the holes of the shoes, randomly looped through different holes, and tied with several loops on each shoe. I double tied him per his requested and suggested that if he gets another pair of shoes anytime, he might consider getting something that had Velcro or he could slip on the next time. “Yes”, he told me. Then he asked me to show him how to unite the knots, so I demonstrated where to pull in order to untie the shoe. He then asked me how to get his foot out, so I asked him if he wore these shoes often and he told me that he did “just on the weekends”. So I showed him how to loosen the laces so that he could pull his foot out, before retying his shoe yet again. “How do I get my foot out?” He asked. “Can you show me one more time?” “You know what,” I told him “I bet you can do it. Why don’t you try it once while I’m here so that you can be sure you will know how to do it when you get home?” He sat down next to me and I talked him through untying his shoe and loosening his laces and then prompted him to push down on the back of his shoe and pull his foot out, which he did. W He put his shoe back on with verbal instructions and I retied it, in the exact same why I had tied it earlier in order to insure that he would be able to untie it when he got home…which he told me was near there. “When do I take off the shoe?” He asked me. “Whenever you would like when you get home.” I told him. “How long do I have to push on the back of the shoe?” he asked me. I told him that until the his foot was loose enough to come out of the shoe. “You can do it…if you have trouble you can come back to the library and find someone who can help you, but I’m sure you’ll be able to do it.” “Thank you” he told me. “Nice to see you”, I told him.

And after he left, I began to think about why, among the several people he passed on his way from the library to his home, he asked me? I have taught many of my students how to tie, put on and take off their shoes. I am sure the man knew how, but judging by the way he carefully studied the way I tied and untied the laces, and the way the lace was tied, triple looped and uneven on his other shoe (perhaps I should have helped him with that one now that I think about it), it was a skill that he was not confident using on the weekends when he wore his shoes with laces. Was I somehow unknowingly wearing a special “teacher’s uniform”? Was there something about me that said, “this woman has taught many people how to tie their shoes, so ask her”? And clearly he must not have known about my controversial “ABA consultant” title, as I am sure that if he had, he would have ran away from me as fast as he could for fear that I might try to “change” him…

I have been to workshops and seminars on assertiveness training courses where they teach you how not to look like a “victim”. I have never been a “victim” or in any position where I feared being a “victim” and I have certainly walked on a street or in a parking lot alone, more than I perhaps should. I don’t think I look like a “victim” and I certainly don’t walk around being fearful…much to the dismay of people who wished I exhibited a little more caution. So is it possible that there could be something in someone’s demeanor that makes them look like a “teacher”? Is there something about me that looks like I might be a good person to ask to help them do or learn something? I mean this was not an exclusive event. It happens to me a lot, and quite often by small children or those that are “differently abled”. It’s as if I’m singled out by them as one who knows how to help them with whatever they need help with, and they are usually right. I usually not only know how to help, but am rather willing to do so. So what is it about ones expression, demeanor, posture, facial expressions that make others intuitively understand whether or not you look like a “victim” or a “teacher” or a “willing helper” or (fill-in-the blank here)?

The interesting thing is that I was going to the library to check out a book by A.H. Maslow titled “The Farthest Reaches of Human Nature”, in which he talks about the advancement of technology and how we are so concerned on improving technology, which is happening so quickly, yet we are forgetting to focus on creating better people whom will have access to that technology. I’ve read the book before and like to re-read it anytime I am tempted to get caught up in the whole “better” services, treatments, teaching, (fill-in-the blank here), as I have in the past, but usually try to avoid them altogether, because I believe, similar to Maslow’s feelings about technology, that it is a waste of time to focus on, develop, start a new, research or “improve” services, treatment and teaching for children with ASD if we are forgetting about the part where we need to focus on creating more kind, loving, compassionate, creative, open-minded people to “treat”, “teach” or “serve” children. Our focus turns away from developing a more loving and inclusive society to blaming or hating a “treatment”. As Maslow hypothesizes about Hitler having access to the technology that exists today, noting that we spend all ofour energy, time, research and study into technology, yet are not worrying about creating better people (Of course the term “better” people is subjective, but Maslow defines his definition of “better people” with more concrete terms, which I encourage everyone to research if interested). We have a tendency to blame a particular treatment, creating an alternatively labeled treatment, leading to more contravery, all the while ignoring the fact that we are focusing on the wrong things. If it is about “teaching”, then who is going to “teach”? Shouldn’t we stop putting time, energy, money and argument into what service or treatment is bad or doesn’t work and more time and energy into teaching the communities around us to be more loving, accepting, open and kind towards one another? Perhaps we need to look within. Perhaps society is not at the place where complete inclusion, integration and acceptance is the norm. Perhaps we should all begin to put our focus on teaching these things. Perhaps we should start with ourselves.

The Winds of Change

2006-04-08T20:38:00.000-07:00

In sixth grade I remember that two boys in my class got into a fist fight. Being a private school where morals and values were a priority and taught at every opportunity (quite often to our repressed grumbles), our teacher, after breaking up the fight brought us ALL (again, more repressed grumbling) into the classroom to discuss what had happened. “He pushed me first” said one boy, “He made me angry” was the boys explanation at which point our teacher made the boys stop talking about it as he methodically finished his tea, place several pieces of folded paper into the cup and asked us what we saw…”er, a cup?” “Okay”, he said, “so what you see, what you will see most of the time is a cup…Now what happens if something like wind blows it over or someone knocks it down?” (He knocks it over and the paper comes out). “Stuff comes out?” (or something like that…it’s been a while, forgive me). “Okay, so if it’s knocked over something will come out and what comes out is going to be what’s inside” (well, duh, is what I am sure I was thinking at this point). He then held up the paper and said, “so if this is 'anger' and 'bitterness', and it comes out, the 'anger' and 'bitterness' were already there. The wind didn’t cause the anger…it just brought it out for us all to see. But if what is in the cup is only ‘love’, ‘kindness’, ‘compassion’ and ‘patience’ those are the things that will come out when the wind comes.”

And I admit it. I got what he was saying all the while thinking it was complete waste of my time. After all, I had net been in the fistfight. I could almost guarantee you that I would never ever get into an actual fistfight. Yes, I saw it, but am certain I could not have stopped it if I tried, so why was he wasting my time? Why was he wasting the entire classes snack time no less…why did we have to be punished when we did nothing wrong?

I understood what he was saying, but it wasn’t until many years later that I got it. I got it when I realized that I had some of that icky stuff in my cup. That just because I wouldn’t get into a fistfight, didn’t mean that there wasn’t anger or inflexibility or pride in my cup…it just meant that these may just look a little different when the wind knocked me over.

Autism, and everything about it has been my biggest wind. The children and parents and professionals I have spent time with have challenged and continue to challenge me in everyway. And when I used to think these “challenges” were something “they” were doing, my job seemed hard, but it was when I realized the “challenges” that were imposed we’re simply a challenge to improve my character…to see what was in my cup, I realized that no one is causing me to be frustrated or anxious or inflexible or stubborn, but that these things had already existed that my job became the most meaningful, edifying and rewarding job in the world…and when in fact I actually recognized the things in myself and was able to work on change. I realized how I was evolving by letting my students teach me how to be a better me, rather than thinking that it is they who need to be fixed. It is when I feel a stir of frustration, when I want to point the finger at the “ignorance” or “stubbornness” or “judgement” of someone who is pointing the finger at an “ideology”, “semantics”, or "someone else" that I remember that it is I who need to point my own finger inward and recognize what it is within myself that is creating the dissonance. We are all on our own journey and everyone is exactly where they should be. Learning the things they are supposed to learn, otherwise being presented with that same lesson with a different mask over and over again. I realize that I am not here to change others opinions of me or what I do, and if that becomes my focus, I lose focus on my own journey. On the fact that autism has been a blessing in my life for all that is has taught me. It is now when I meet a child for the first time who I am told has “severe behaviors” and I either don’t notice them as being “severe”, or they are not “severe” when I am around, I realize how far I have come on this journey, yet recognize that like the horizon that continues to seem further away as you move towards it, I will never reach a "there" as there is no "there". It is when I recognize that my reaction to others is simply a reminder to see what it is within myslef that I need to change, that I see what I have learned from autism…the great magnifier as I have come to call it.

If it is anger or hatred or bitterness or dissonance within our society because of the wind of autism, it is because those things were already in there, masked by the niceties that society tries to put forth, but autism could care less about. Autism looks beyond titles and credentials and appearance and looks at what is deep within us all and brings it to the surface, until we begin to recognize that it wasn’t the wind that “caused” these things, that “brought” these things to our society. All it did was reveal what was already there.

For that I am grateful.

On teaching, learning and how we confuse the two

2006-04-06T22:05:00.000-07:00

Me: Hi, I’m Square Girl and I’m an ABA consultant.

Everyone: Hi Square Girl

Whew. Now that we got that out of the way, I feel a lot better. Well, actually I’d feel much better if I talked about it a little more. To me, “autism” is not just a word, a field, a job or a career. To me, “autism” is more like a teacher, a guide, and a journey. When it comes to knowledge of the field, I am quite aware of all the controversy surrounding, well, just about EVERYTHING. Semantics are controversial, as are “Causes”, “Cures”, “Treatments”, “Acceptance”, “Epidemic” etc. but I will not go on with this ever expanding list of items…and it is. Ever expanding. Which is why I woke up in the middle of the night last year and had a Jerry Maguire moment of seemingly temporary insanity and wrote this essay on why there is so much anger, animosity and distrust in this field, which is ultimately one reason: Fear. And of course the only antidote to fear is Love. So while I will save all of that for another post, when another wave of “clarity” or “temporary insanity” (feel free to chose your own semantic in this case, and trust that I will not be offended) overcomes me, I will share a little about my experience and exposure to teaching (ABA or not…why does everything have to be about semantics).

When ABA became a heated issue…oh wait, it always has been. When I realized ABA was a heated issue, I began to question if it was the right approach and received training in all other types of therapies including in Pivotal Response Training, Natural Language Paradigm and RDI (RDI from Dr. Greenspan ala Big Brother Style). For those of you who don’t know, Greenspan doesn’t travel, so you either have to go to Washington to get trained or receive training via a big gigantic screen where he demonstrates that he can see everyone in the room by describing what various people in the room are wearing and doing. It was actually kinda creepy if you ask me. It was after this, that I realized that what it all boils down to is teaching and the fact that the children I worked with ran to the door to greet me and seemed to love learning and all the other fun stuff we did (singing, piggy back rides, chasing, engaging, etc.) what I was doing…my adapted version of ABA wasn’t as tortuous as some would have people believe. And in contemplating teachers, styles, methodologies, etc. I thought about my own childhood teachers and my feelings about each of them.

I went to a very small private school. It was not a special ed. school, and being a private school there was no such thing as “Special ed.”, but in retrospect, I am certain that several of the children there would be in “Special Ed.” if they had attended a public school. Our classes were small and the school truly operated on a no child left behind spirit and methodology. My brother-in-law began going to school there in sixth grade leaving a public school still not being able to read, yet after a year of his teacher staying after school with him to teach him, he learned. That is the kind of school I attended. My Kindergarten teacher was and continues to be one of the most wonderful teachers I have ever met, and every child I have ever spoken to who has been a student of hers says the same. Every parent of every child who was a student of hers agrees as well. She is and was, loud, a little bit nutty and most importantly creative…she used to read Amelia Bedilia and Mrs. Pigglesworth to us and I thought they were both like her. No child has ever left her classroom not reading, she told me once, and I am certain that she is not exaggerating. It is hard to pinpoint what made her so amazing, but her enthusiasm for teaching and flair for drama played a role, I’m certain. I remember that every day we would all recite this poem about Astro’s (Astro the Astronaut) bag and what was inside…something like “Astro left a BIG surprise, let’s look in his bag to see what’s inside”…it was always very exciting and what he left inside was always…Homework!!! Yes, she had us very all excited about our homework…afterall it was a “surprise” from Astro the Astronaut! (Apparently she understood the importance of semantics). My first grade teacher was pretty good. I liked her. But following the most-amazing-fun-creative-disciplined-silly-wonderful teacher in the world is hard to do. And the fact that she did follow quite well speaks volumes. Now my second grade teacher was just, well, mean. She was. When I became and adult, I second-guessed my assessment of her as “mean” because I thought I was just comparing her to my previous teachers. But then she called me a couple years ago to ask me to help her out with a student she had who was possibly on the spectrum, named Davis. I went and observed and realized that what she wanted was not “help”, but rather a confirmation that her suspicion was correct. I observed their music lesson and when the instruments were handed in, I was horrified when she loudly announced. “Children…EVERYBODY stop what you are doing! Davis has lost one of his cymbols again! We must all stop what we are doing to look for Davis’s cymbol’s!” and I thought “Yup. My assessment was right. She was (and is) mean.” My memories of teacher’s after that are minimal and intermittent, showing me that our values and experiences (well at least mine) are strongly shaped when we are young. It also made it that much more important that I wasn’t causing detriment to the children I taught, as the one thing I can always guarantee that I brought to the table (literally and figuratively) is LOVE.

Having been a teacher (I prefer this title to ABA therapist/supervisor/consultant, etc.) for more than twelve years, I am looking forward to hearing more and more feedback from my former students (or teachers as I have come to know them as). Last year, I visited my very first client, Jamie, whom you can learn more about here and here (I have changed the settings and names in my stories, but nothing more) and when I came inside his house, he threw his arms up into the air and shouted gleefully “Square Girl! Your back!” and we had conversations about school, his upcoming talent show, his dogs, my family (who he had met several times) and I realized that perhaps ABA (or my own watered down version of it) isn’t so detrimental at all…assuming it is administered with creativity and love. Oh, and Jamie called me several weeks ago…his mom said he requested to do so. He called my parents house (an interesting phone call and perhaps another post) to get my new info. Our conversation went something like this:

Jamie: Square Girl, I called you, but you weren’t there.
SG: I know Jamie. That’s because I moved.
Jamie: Oh. Did you have a sign that said “for sale” and “sold” on it.
SG: No, but that’s because I live in an apartment.
Jamie: Ohhhhhh, an apartment! Do you have Goldie?
SG: Well Jamie, no. Goldie is er, gone…I don’t have her anymore.
Jamie: Oh. I have a new dog. Here’s my mom.
So in my assessment of how I measure up as a teacher I have feedback from one of my little friends thus far, and I can pretty safely say that he was not traumatized by me. One down, a hundred or more so to go.

I’ll let you know what they have to say. And I’ll do so honestly. Yet let me share my suspicions…it is not the “type” of therapy or ideology or brand. It is not the ideology that are ultimately the most important. It is (and I know I say this at the risk of sounding crazy) the compassion, creativity and LOVE that you bring to your students (who by the way are not actually students, but your teachers if you haven’t yet figured it out).

Three

2006-04-05T13:36:00.000-07:00

...is the magic number.

Yes it is.

I simply LOVE the Jack Johnson and Friends Curious George soundtrack and think that it is a must have for kids and kids at heart. My favorite songs are "With my own Two Hands" and "Upside Down", which has been playing on the radio, but I love it all the more after reading the lyrics.

And in case you haven't heard Jack Johnsons adaptation of "Three is the Magic Number", I'll share with you why it's three that is the magic number...

Because 2 times 3 is six. And six times three is eighteen. And the eighteenth letter of the alphabet is "r". (Stay with me here, I am going somewhere with this).

And the three "R's" to remember are:

Reduce, reuse, recycle.
Reduce, reuse, recycle.
Reduce, reuse, recycle.

Which is why three is the magic number.

Yes it is.

Perception and Perspective

2006-04-04T16:22:00.000-07:00

Last Friday, I accompanied a friend of mine and her two toddlers to an indoor playground. Nicky, the older of the two at three years old, had been diagnosed with ASD nearly a year ago, and over that time we found our own friendship becoming stronger. Needless to say, this indoor playground housed all kinds of equipment, such as slides, a play kitchen, small cars, and a bouncer. Nicky has been gaining more confidence in his motor skills over the last six months and having more and more positive experiences enjoying slides, swings, ladders and other various equipment. A few months ago, while at a birthday party, he took an interest in the bouncer there, but was not interested in going inside, so when he and his 18 month old brother, Evan showed an interest in joining the somewhat bigger, laughing, screaming kids, his mother and I looked on as we saw them both smiling as they attempted to maintain their balance as the larger kids jumped near them, ready to leap into the bouncer, should there be a need to do so (i.e. Nicky or Evan falling over near a much larger jumping child, oblivious to a toddler lying where they were about to jump). As we, along with several other mothers sat at the opening of the bouncer, a woman flew right passed us screaming at us all for just standing there. As I continued to look at her, I realized that one of the older boys (her son) had climbed up on the side plastic wall of the bouncer and had seemingly gotten trapped somehow. We had all been oblivious to his screaming for help, as the bouncer was pretty much full of screaming children and it was most likely that everyone watching was distracted by the one or two children we had been protectively watching. The mother turned in the direction of everyone outside of the bouncer and shouted, “I can’t get him! I need help!” I ran into the bouncer, while my friend (perhaps having been the only one to have accurately assess what was actually happening to the boy) ran around to the back of the bouncer. When I reached the boy, I realized that he was not simply stuck between the plastic wall and netting like I had originally perceived, but he was stuck in an opening in the plastic, with only his arms and head sticking out. As I reached to help him, his mother let go, which is not what I was anticipating, but I was able to reach under his arms before he slipped even further and as I did so, the mother began screaming (I apologize for using the word “screaming” as it is not a word I particularly like, but it is really the best way to describe it) at the children who were all still jumping happily in the bouncer. “Get out! Get out!” she shouted as she started shoving children out of the opening of the bouncer and I remember thinking for a split second Oh no. Nicky, hates yelling, he hates being rushed, he is going to have a meltdown because a lady he doesn’t even know is shouting at him and shoving him out of a bouncer and neither myself nor his mother will be there when he (and not to mention his 18 month old brother) get out. But then I realized that I was hanging on to a terrified little guy and as I looked heard him screaming “help me!” and saw the panic in his eyes, I found the necessary surge of strength to pull him out...By this point he was sobbing and I handed him to his mother who kept thanking me and insist the boy thank me as well, while I looked around and saw both Nicky and Evan safely reunited with their mother, and apparently completely un-phased about being thrown out of the bouncer. One of the other mothers had gotten the woman who ran the playground to tell her what was going on and the woman turned toward the group of mothers who had gathered during this event and pointed to the corner on the opposite side of the bouncer and told us all that there was no hole and it was impossible for any child to fall through before walking away. I actually found this to be quite amusing as at least twelve grown adults and several children had just seen the whole event and clearly, there was a hole, and clearly a child could fall through (this is not to say the equipment was dangerous, as I am quite certain that anything can be dangerous when used improperly). My friend and I stayed another forty minutes or so and during this time, the boys mother came to thank me at least eight times. She explained to me that she had thought that her son was slipping out of her hands and literally falling into the bouncer and she imagined him suffocating, which is why she tried to get all of the children out of there. Her plan, she told me, was to get the children out of there so she could unplug the bouncer to let the air out and prevent her son from suffocating. She told me that her son kept telling her that he thought he was dying. I told her that I was sure that he was going to recover much more quickly than she was over the whole incident (she was quite shaken up). The boy was not going to fall into the bouncer, and in fact the worst that could’ve happened is that he fall about eight feet or so onto the floor of the outside of the bouncer and perhaps sprained an ankle or a wrist. The event was pretty quickly forgotten by my friend and I (hey, if you want a scary, hazardous story, I’ve got a few ones that can top that easily, but I see no reason to share them). Before the boy left, he ran up to me to thank me again and give me a hug (it was really sweet actually). A couple days later, I thought about this event and was able to process it, as it had all happened so quickly and what occurred to me is this:

1. Somehow Nicky and Evan got out safely from the bouncer seemingly without getting upset about a woman they did not know screaming at them and shoving them out to a group of children and other women that they didn’t know. It was almost as if Nicky, knew that something bigger was going on. That something was happening and being shouted at and shoved out of a bouncer by a stranger was appropriate at this time.
2. Each one of our experiences and perspectives shaped each of our perception of the situation. I thought the boy was trapped, but not falling, the mother thought he was falling into a bouncer and would suffocate in it, my friend realized he was falling through the back and ran around to help, the boy didn’t know what was happening, just that he was falling and “gonna die” and the woman who worked there denied the possibility of the event even happening. I missed the reactions, experiences of the children and gathering mothers, but am certain, each of their perceptions and experiences was different. This one event was experienced differently, based on each individuals perspective and perception of it. In addition, each individual reacted differently to the situation based on their perceptions and past experiences.

Again, this to me was an unremarkable event, other than that this time there was a crowd who witnessed it. I have had many similar experiences (although none in a bouncer) during my career, which I have chosen not yet to highlight here thus far. What I did get out of it however, is to further realize how people react differently when presented with the same exact situation. The same event can mean entirely different things to different people. Understanding where people are coming from allows us to understand others reactions more appropriately. I will not expound further, as this post was basically an exercise in sharing a part of what I learned from last Friday’s visit to the indoor playground. However, this lesson in perspective indeed came at an interesting time in my life…but enough about what I think...it is actually after all, only one perspective.

A New Superpower!

2006-03-25T17:07:00.000-08:00

I have just discovered my newest superpower. I, apparently have the ability to make it rain, even when the previous day has been quite beautiful and sunny. I love the rain, so it is quite a handy superpower to have for when i'm in the mood to start a fire in my fireplace and lounge around inside reading and listening to music. The way I acess this superpower is quite simple. I wash my Civic.

I am now three for three.

Maybe I need to develop the power to check the weather report.

Still shocked...

2006-03-20T19:39:00.000-08:00

But not necessarily awed.
Because I believe that what we focus our energy and thoughts on shapes our environment, I try to refrain from focusing on events that I believe that are negative. Still, the reality is that today is the first day of our fourth year our country has been at war.

This saddens me…
Deeply.

For everyone on our planet, including the families of soldiers currently overseas to fight a war declared for a reason that could never even be validated. Some of the longest six months of my life were when my baby brother (24 years, but sometimes he let’s me refer to him as my “baby” brother) spent working Satellite Communications for the Air Force in Tikrit (although we didn’t even know at the time, as we were not allowed due to the sensitivity of his placement…we all suspected Baghdad).

I read in yesterdays Los Angeles Times that the polls show that 38% of Americans believe that the war is going “well”.

Really?

Who are these people?

Ironically, I was thinking that today was our coldest day of Winter here in Southern California, until I found out it was the first day of Spring.

Peace,
Square Girl

Savings...

2006-03-18T14:02:00.000-08:00

While contemplating yoga, I went shopping today. I saved twenty-seven dollars. Well technically, I SPENT fifty-seven dollars and forty-eight cents, but the reciept that told me I had saved money had me fooled for a second or two.

Presuming Ability

2006-03-17T23:39:00.000-08:00

Over a month ago, Kristina and her soul sister Mother’s Vox wrote posts that inspired me to write about my own experiences which caused me to discover the importance of presuming competence and islets of ability.
But then I got distracted.
And a little lazy.
And probably ended up posting something mundane and meaningless, but I don’t remember what it was.
But now that I am sorta unplugging in an attempt to hear my own inside voices as opposed to all of the spam and pop-up ads and what the radio seems to be calling music these days. And while I spend time with my own thoughts, I am slightly haunted by a post that keeps quietly reminds me needs to be written. Not read…it doesn’t need to be read, but written. I can’t get past this feeling that I am supposed to write this.

Over the course of teaching my little friends, I never cease to be amazed by what they know, understand and capable of. And when I am listening and paying very close attention to what my friends are doing and trying to say to the world, I am sometimes rewarded with a glimpse of their potential. During my teaching years, there is no one who demonstrated this more to me than my little friend William. William was and is a favorite student of mine (yes, I admit to having favorites, maybe that is wrong, but I just can’t help it).

While it may sound superficial, I will begin with a physical description, because William was so darn cute (all my friends are by the way, but he is especially so). He was six when I taught hem, had red hair, freckles and a teethy grin. He was slightly pudgy, but adorably so…In addition, William has, what is referred to as low tone. In other words, his coordination seemed quite awkward and his speech, quite unintelligible…that is assuming that you recognized the noises that he made as speech (unfortunately most people around him did not).

Let me continue to describe William by describing our first day together as student and teacher....lemesee…well, my first day of teaching couldn’t have been more disasterous (well, I’m sure it could have, but I can’t imagine what else could have gone wrong). One of my students I never met had run off of the bus and into a playground of approximately 300 kids and I was expected to find him, while I meanwhile had an irate bus driver because I wasn’t getting my remaining new students off of the bus in a timely manner, as one was REFUSING to get off of the bus “NO” with a firm kick to the seat in front of him was his replay to any request. Plea, negotiation to leave the bus to a school and a teacher he had never even seen before (Of course I told you my kids were smart). This really is just the beginning, but I will spare any reader of this the woe is me details especially since this day is really just the beginning of one of the most meaningful years of my life…but as for William. Well,William, as adorable as he is, is also quite, well, loud. …and quite dysregulated by change and new environments. Oh, and still in a diaper, which I was in no way prepared for. So William, on his first day of school, spent the entire day, screaming, banging his head with his fists, rolling around on the floor, taking his shoes off and attempting to pull off all of his clothes. And while I’m revealing all the details of my first day as a teacher of a Special Day Class consisting of students (grades K-4) all on the spectrum, let me just confess that I drove home the whole way crying and wondering what I had gotten myself into.

That was the first day. And while I can’t recall every subsequent day in such vivid detail, there were moments, good, bad and beautiful that are etched in my memory, and sentimentialy I recount a few of these moments, the ones that taught me to never underestimate or discount ANYONE, EVER.

Well the rolling around the floor and taking off clothes bit lasted no more than two days…this is where the mean-ole ABA teacher took over and insisted that 1. Clothes stay on (yes, I know, I’m a meanie) and 2. You participate with the rest of the class (again, I’m a meanie, an no child of my classroom is left behind or rolling around one the floor). The shoes took a few more days, but they never came off after the first week and a half. And after these issues, well my William became the superstar that he was always meant to be. Not only did he sit for Circle time, but he became my Calendar helper. He laeraned (or demonstrated for the first time) to count, identify numbers and add. He began to learn phonics and sight words. All of these things would seem unremarkable except he had an in-home behavior consultant that upon the request of Williams mom visited the classroom one day to observe. At the end of the day she told me that this was the first time ever that William was part of a class…I asked her what she meant and she told me that in all of his past classes he would just be off on his own screaming and stimming and was not a part of the class at all. William had already demonstrated his willingness and capacity to learn, so imagining him spending an entire year left behind broke my heart.

William, for whatever reasons scared a lot of people (the loud stimmy screaming was probably what did it), and as a result had a one to one aide. His aide was named Amy (note, I always change my friends names, but “Amy” was his aides real name). Amy was young and sensitive, but very sweet and loving. One of the things that Amy and William would do together is play with play-doh…at some point Amy began rolling play-doh into long strips and I remember the first time she did this she got extremely excited and said “Squaregirl! Squaregirl! William’s making letters!” And indeed he was. He made Amy’s strips into the letters “A”,”B”,”C” subsequently. This was very exciting! We had no idea William knew or even cared about letters, yet clearly he was demonstrating that he did. The next time he and Amy played this “game”, Amy nearly hyperventilated…”SquareGirl! William just spelled “Pig”, “Cow”, “Dog” etc. Again…this was very exciting to see this from someone who’s last IEP goals included keeping his shoes on for more than an hour an who apparently never participated in any classroom activites. So as much as I loved William and am confident that William loved me, mid-year, when Amy was out sick, William grabbed my hand and led me toward where the play-doh was kept…”ABC” he told me in his ow tone that I never would have understood a few months earlier, but had obtained new listening skills. I pulled down the play-doh and rolled it into long strips the way I knew Amy did with him and he did what he had done with Amy in the past…make an “A”. I continues to make the strips, expecting a “B” from him, buit instead, he made an “M” and of course my last strips turned into a “Y”. I don’t even know where to begin to explain what this meant to me…William can spell…William is trying to tell me something: He does this with Amy, he misses Amy, Where is Amy? This was just the beginning of my understanding of my friend William, much of which I would like to share over time...he is quite an amazing individual….this is not even the tip of the iceberg of his ability…

Unplugging...well mostly

2006-03-16T20:09:00.000-08:00

My mind has been quite noisy as of late. Now I know I could blame it on the crap on the radio or all of the tangents my DSL takes me on, but I am a fully grown woman, completely capable of reaching out to push the “power off” button on may car stereo and step away from the highly distractable DSL for a couple of hours and walk over to a yoga class (always a good way for me to quiet my mind), I do after all have at least three yoga studio’s within walking distance of my apartment (Four if I am ambitious in my walking, but One is literally ACROSS THE STREET). So I have taken the first step. My car radio is off. I walked to my the library (my pre-dsl favorite haunting grounds), checked out several books by Gabriel Garcia Marquez (already read, but I am a re-reader of favorites), Joseph Campbell and a book by William Carlos Williams, who I know so little about yet have always enjoyed his poetry. I also took the fifty or so yard trek to the yoga studio to obtain an updated schedule. I haven’t actually read the books yet, nor attended a yoga class, but already my mind feels quieter just thinking about doing those things. Unlike my plants, I am sure that my laptop, telephone, television or radio will not wilt and become lackluster, due to lack of attention and love.

Once, twice, three times an auntie...

2006-03-13T14:09:00.000-08:00

Squaresis #3 had a girl!

ALL NINE POUNDS, FIVE OUNCES OF HER!

Taking time to smell the steam

2006-03-07T20:28:00.000-08:00

About eleven years ago I was working as a school shadow for one of my little friends Oliver. Oliver loooved to take his time for everything, which was quite charming actually, except when the bell rang and I knew Oliver would take his lovely sweet time to get to the classroom and be late once again (of course he never minded, but it caused me a little stress). Needless to say, the school was next to some sort of plant (I either never knew or I forgot) and one morning as I was trying to get him into his classroom within a reasonable amount of tardiness, he stopped and stared at the steam from the plant for a few seconds and asked:

“What’s that?”

“I think it’s steam…we gotta go Oliver, we’re a little late.”

Oliver seemed to not hear me, but absolutely charmed me when he said “Oh loook! It’s making sky!”

Great Expectations

2006-03-05T09:46:00.000-08:00

Squaresis #3 (my neice's mama) is expecting baby #2 in less than a week! Everybody’s favorite question of course, is what are you having? Well, squaresis doesn’t know. Not because she didn’t have a sonogram to find out…she had like three…but apparently the baby wants to surprise everyone as s/he kept h/er/is legs closed nice and tight in order to keep us all from knowing. This babies gonna be a trickster I can already tell! Well needless to say, SquareSis has been quite exhausted, taking care of a highly energetic two-year-old, running a cloth-diaper making and selling business as well as being nearly nine months pregnant and all, and has yet to decied on a name for the baby. This has proven quite disturbing for some of her friends…”How can you not know?”, “I think you should make it your goal to decide on a name today”, “Aren’t you worried that you don’t have a name yet?”. These are statements and questions that she hears regulary.
She was sharing with me her frustrations over everyone elses frustrations about her not having chosen a name yet, and I was reminded about how other people always have ideas and expectations about where we are supposed to be in OUR lives. I shared with SquarSis about how a few months ago, when I was at the wedding of a college friend I braced myself for the all too familiar question I get at every wedding I attend of “When is it gonna be your turn?”, when my friend Beth, who I was a bridesmaid for five years ago leaned towards me and said “I always brace myself for people to ask me, ‘when are you gonna have kids?’”. I have always known this, but at this moment, I further realized that it never-ever ends. Other people are always going to have expectations and opinions about where you are supposed to be in your life, and for some reason it bothers them more than it bothers you that you are not where THEY expect for you to be. I think the question needs to be asked more often is “Are you happy?”.

I advised my sister to come up with a really awful, ridiculous and ugly name and when people asked her what she planned on naming the baby tell them that name and amuse herself with how they respond.

That is what the little imp in me would do. I’ve had a lot of practice defying expectations.

Putting my Thinking Cap on...

2006-03-03T21:45:00.000-08:00

I was hyperlexic. Only recently have I discovered that the word “hyperlexic” is being used as a diagnosis on the spectral line of autism, because I had always understood “hyperlexic” to simply mean reading at a very early age. According to my mom, I wasn’t much of a talker as a toddler, but I used to sit on her lap during church and she would point to each word in the hymnal as the congregation sang, until one day she realized I was singing along. To be honest, I never remember NOT reading.

In Kindergarten, at the small private school I attended, our teacher would divide us into groups during our reading time. There were approximately four of us in my group and all of us were reading. A wonderful woman who was retired and volunteered a couple hours a day in our classroom facilitated our group. I remember quite well, that before we began reading, she would instruct us to put on our “thinking caps”, upon which we would each put an imaginary cap upon our heads. To this day, I refer to my imaginary “thinking cap”. As many of us do, I wear many hats in my life, but there are some things, conversations, posts, NPR programs that require me to put on my “thinking cap”. I don’t wear it all the time, but always come out more enlightened and fulfilled when I do…

I am certain that nearly all of the twelve readers who read this also read Kristina Chew’s site (and if you don’t I suggest you do so RIGHT NOW), so everyone reading this post is certainly aware of how she interweaves the unedited touching and raw moments of her life with her little best friend, with mythology, Latin and Greek, and ABA all the while completely free of judgment, self-rieghtousness, and most importantly DISCRIMINATION. Her blog is one of the most inclusive blogs I have read. As a former five year Latin student, an ABA consultant (who does not appreciate references to Skinner and Tabula Rasa), a mythology lover, who pours over the works of Joseph Campbell and an individual who was diagnosed with autism at the age of three, I find Kristina’s writings, touching, thought-provoking, breath-taking, heart-breaking and heart-warming all at the same time. Her latest posts on the poetry in autism are simply stunning. They have got me thinking about how much autism is indeed like poetry… beautiful, stunning, amusing, egnimatic, capricious, paradoxical, confusing and prophetic, all at once. Some people don’t even try to bother to understand poetry, while others think they understand the meaning, based on superficial one time reading. But for the most part, poetry…real poetry has so many levels and complexities that go far beyond that…Autism has many analogies, but I am not surprised that Kristina’s analogy resonates the strongest with me.

I know I need to put on my thinking cap whenever I go to visit Kristina, but if I ever forget to do so, I always leave Kristina’s place with my thinking (and feeling) cap fitted quite snugly on top of my head…I am quite certain that she has plenty of experience putting “thinking caps” on her own as well as other people's heads.

Songs of the day...

2006-03-02T21:05:00.000-08:00

One of my problems with the Jett is that it’s electric system often malfunctioned, causing the alarm to go off spontaneously and the radio to malfunction (I think the Jett was angry with me). Needless to say, I had stopped listening to the radio and turned to entertaining myself by talking to myself and singing out loud. However when the Civic came into my life, I decided once again to listen to the radio. I mostly listen to NPR, but there are times that I simply don’t feel like thinking all that much so I will listen to music. As I flipped through the music stations the other day, I realized that the most of the music out there right now is indeed still crap (sorry, but it is)…oh wait, gotta go, American Idol is about to start!

My Cousin Jamie...

2006-02-28T20:02:00.000-08:00

I have a cousin named Jamie. Well technically he is not my "cousin". Technically he is the first client on the spectrum that I ever worked with, but don’t ever tell him that. I worked with him form the ages of three to seven, until I moved
fifty miles West, but of course he no longer needed me anyway (sniff, the bittersweetness of early intervention). He and his mother have kept in touch and I go out to visit them about once a year.

Jamie was (and is) a clown, and a jokester and a scripter, constantly scripting lines from his favorite books and movies, initially for no apparent reason, until he began to adapt them to his own life and his “scripts” eventually became rather useful for him. His mom tells me that one of his favorite movies is Lady and the Tramp 2 and while I haven’t seen it, apparently one of the puppies is quite the little rascal always getting into trouble and when he doesn’t get his way, he says “well if that’s how it’s gonna be, I don’t know if I want to live in this house anymore!” and then proceeds to run away from home. Apparently now that Jamie is a teenager (how did that happen?) when he gets mad about not getting his way, he tells his mom, “if that’s how it’s gonna be, I don’t know if I want to live in this house anymore!” and announces that he is going to run away to aunt Nancy’s who lives down the street. Jamie’s mom tells him he better call her first to make sure there’s enough room, and when he calls aunt Nancy and she tells him that she doesn’t have room at this time, Jamie says “rats!” and that is the end of that.

The last time I visited Jamie, he threw his arms up in the air dramatically and said “Squaregirl, you’re back!”, to which my heart completely melted…my little friends can melt my heart in a way no one else can. We all hung out, Jamie told me a knock knock joke and showed me a photo of his “girlfriend” ( a girl at school he likes and inexplicably insisted on bringing flowers to school one day, which turned out to be her birthday!) Jamie’s mom told me that he talks about me and tells people that I am his “cousin”. I love this! Jamie has no siblings of his own, but he has cousins and as I am pretty familiar with JamieSpeak, I am quite certain that what a “cousin” means to him, is “someone who is a big part of the family, but doesn’t reside under the same roof”. I looked at his mom and said, “I hope you didn’t correct him”, and she responded, “I wouldn’t even think about it.”

Differences of Imagination

2006-02-24T16:24:00.000-08:00

My nephew's Imagination food looks like, well...nothing, unless you have enough imagination to see it. My neice's Imagination food looks like, well...gravel.

Imagination Food Diet

2006-02-22T20:30:00.000-08:00

My nephew is no longer eating Imagination food off of the floor, but rather has restricted his Imagination food consumption from bowls, plates and cups. My sister, his mama, very much the an encourager of creativity, does not know weather to be happy that she has discouraged him from eating off of the floor or be worried that she is stifling his imagination.

Seeing Stars

2006-02-21T19:18:00.000-08:00

Tonight, while in the outlairs of Los Angeles, I saw stars...lots and lots of stars. You know, the kind that are in the sky. And in Southern California especially, that is always a very rare and beautiful thing.

A New Agenda

2006-02-17T13:25:00.000-08:00

I used to believe that everyone has an agenda, well intended or not. I have no problem with other people’s agendas as long as they don’t push them to hard…for example, if someone’s agenda is to save the dolphins or feed the homeless, I may feel that they are wonderful agendas, but I would get pretty frustrated if people incessantly talked about these to me…not because they are not important, but because there are too many important things that need to be examined to get fixated on one singular one…For this reason, I have never been a huge agenda pusher, even though I have them and I think they are worth addressing.

When I taught a Special Day Class, which consisted of eight students all diagnosed with autism, I was a little taken off guard with how un-welcome me and my students were when we first arrived on campus (the class had been moved from another campus due to silly logistical reasons…I just loved that, as surely it is logical to move a classroom of children with a diagnosis of autism to a whole other campus with a new teacher and aides and everything!). Needless to say, it was a huge eye-opener to how blatantly discriminatory people can actually be. When my prinicipal was showing me my classroom, she made it clear to me how much of an inconvenience it was to have my class on their campus as their students were already underperforming and we were distracting their staff from their own students needs. And then as she introduced me to some of the general ed. teachers, they would look at her (not me) and ask, “Why do we have to have her class HERE?”. I am quite certain many parents can relate to this, but I was shocked by the BLATANCY of it… I wanted to ask people if they realized that they just asked that OUT LOUD. In the beginning of the year, assemblies, events, performances, presentations came and went that I was never informed about…People clearly knew which box was mine, as I would get sweet (not really) little notes about one of my students who had done this or that during lunchtime/recess/etc. But when it came to announcements or information about school events, they seemed to make it to every other box but mine…After several weeks of this, I developed my own agenda…Goshdarnit, I was going to get my guys (all my students were boys this year) invited to outings, assembly’s, other classrooms, special parties, etc! I believed that to know them is to love them, so I was gonna get people to know them. So I began getting to know all of the teachers, showing up at 7:00 every day, having coffee in the teacher’s lounge with the few other early arriving teachers, I played tennis with one of the third grade teachers, went to coffee on a regular basis with one of the Kindergarten teachers, volunteered to help plan the Christmas party, and as our school had a lot of male teachers I even stooped so low as to flirt a little (hanging my head in shame). The thing is, that it worked…I mean within weeks, me and my eight guys were getting invited to art classess, music classes, assembly’s, Halloween Parades, Library time, petting zoos, outings, etc. If there was an assembly that my students were late to, I even got phone calls to my room from other teacher’s who wanted to make sure I knew about the assembly. I considered agenda a success until…

One day when I was sitting by myself in the teacher’s lounge a First Grade teacher named Antonio, a very shy forty-year-old man who stuttered a little when he was nervous and I knew nothing about approached me and asked if he could talk to me. He seemed nervous. Oh dear. I said yes and prepared for an all too familiar concern about something or other regarding one of my students. SquareGirl, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to you before, but I wanted to tell you that I would love have your students come to my classroom. I was a little shocked…I had never really had an unsolicited invitation to a classroom before. I Asked him the questions that I had become accustomed to asking, “How many students?”, “How many aides?”, “What time during the day works best for you?”, etc. It didn’t matter, he told me. Whenver, wherever, whoever. Not, “I’ll take the quiet one, but please don’t send that one who makes all the noise”. Or “Sure, but only your second graders on Wednesday’s for art”. It became increasingly clear that he actually wanted my guys in his classroom, and he wasn’t doing this as a favor to me. In fact, as we talked, it became increasingly clear that Antonio was a man who was kind, compassionate, unimposing and pretty much agenda-free. This for me was one of those Universal lessons that I find so profound due to the simplicity of the message that I had never even payed attention to before. It was then and there that my agenda changed and I realized that I needed to spend a lot less time on people who needed me to make them like me in order for them to be inclusive and accepting of me and my friends, and a lot more time and energy noticing the people who don’t need me to push that kind of agenda on them because they are already compassionate, inclusive and simply kind.

blaming my p.c.

2006-02-15T11:46:00.000-08:00

My web server for work tends to have a lot of problems and I often have trouble getting logged in. Well, maybe it isn’t always my server…

The other day, I was talking to the guy at work who set up our accounts to tell him that I had been having problems again lately. “I think everything’s been fixed”. He told me.

“Well, it has been much better, but it always seems to have problems early in the morning at around 6:00 to 6:30 a.m. I get an error message whenever I try to log in” I tell him.

“That’s strange”, he tells me.

Today, I tried to log in and got the “error” message, but this time it was at about 11:00 a.m. and I realized that I had used the dash where I was supposed to have used the underscore symbol, which is when it hit me…6:00 is p.c. time for me, you know, pre-coffee. I usually will read my e-mails p.c. time, but usually know better than replying to any e-mails before my first cup (yes, I know I have a problem). Needless to say, I looked straight at computer today and told him, “I am so sorry. I realize that it isn’t always you, it’s me.” I’m pretty sure we’ll be able to work through this little misunderstanding, my PC and I.

Is it just me?

2006-02-14T20:40:00.000-08:00

Or does Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper taste just like regular Diet Dr. Pepper?

A Holiday Story for a Hallmark Day

2006-02-13T21:31:00.000-08:00

After the three trailers that I went to go see yesterday, the theater kindly showed a movie called “A New World” by the always poetic Terrence Malick. While I am quite aware that everything we know about Pocahontus and John Smith, is legendary due to the limited documentation, I am quite certain that the actual truth about what transpired is indeed stranger than any fiction we might imagine. Of course, watching the movie, I couldn’t help but be a little amused by recalling what my elementary school beliefs about the first Thanksgiving with the “Pilgrims” and the “Indians”, which was a little like this…

On arrival to the new world,

Pocahontus: (in perfect English) Welcome, we are so thankful to have you here.
John Smith: Thank you…we are so thankful to meet you.
Pocahontus: You and your people simply must join me and my people for a bountiful feast.
John Smith: Splendid! We will bring the mashed potato’s and beer.
Pocahontus: Wonderful!

At the feast;

JS: Happy Thanksgiving to all of our new friends, whom we call “Indians”. Let us all bow our heads and thank God for this delicious food.
Pocahontus: Yes, let’s!
Native American’s: Amen!

After the first course:

John Rolfe: (clinking wine glass with his spoon)…excuse me everyone, I have an announcement. Pocahontus and I will be getting married!

Native American’s and Colonial’s: Hooray!!!

John Rolfe: And oh yes, Pocahontus’s new name will be “Lady Rebecca”

John Smith: Wonderful! Now let’s all celebrate and watch the big game!

Square Girl’s Weekend Movie Trailer Reviews

2006-02-12T21:00:00.000-08:00

Today, I went to the movies and saw three new trailers* which I will review here…(Sure, I know no one asked or cares, but I simply love providing public annoyance, I mean service, so here they are)

1. A Clear Day: This movie trailer* was based on a true story about an Englishman who after retiring feels pretty uninspired and useless, so he decides to begin training to swim the English Channel yet doesn’t tell his wife who realizes that he has a secret and starts to think he must be having an affair…It has one of the hobbits from LOTR in it (you know, the one who isn’t on Lost), who says he can drive a boat, but really can’t and it’s all pretty funny. I enjoyed this trailer and would recommend this trailer* as one to see.

2. Failure to Launch: This trailer* features Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew McConoughy…pretty people, but yawn…I barely remember anything about this trailer…I don’t recommend it.

3. Take the Lead: This was the final trailer* I saw today and I’m not even sure if I got the name correct. It is another movie “inspired” by a true story, “inspired” by movie’s about inspirational teachers in inner city schools, like Jaime Escalante (Lean on Me, I think), and that movie with Michelle Pfieffer. This time, the inspirational teacher who inspires troubled and difficult inner city kids is played by Antonio Banderas, and he doesn’t teach English or Calculus or anything like that, but, now get this…he teaches Ballroom Dancing. I am not kidding. This is a trailer about a ballroom dancing teacher who learns from and teaches troubled students. I actually do recommend this trailer* however, as I found it amusing and I really could see how Antonio Banderas dancing might “inspire” a student or two…plus whenever I hear his voice now, I can’t help but think of Puss in Boots from Shrek 2…an adorable little rascal indeed.

* Please take note that these are indeed TRAILER reviews, NOT movie reviews.

On quantum physics and energy and stuff like that...

2006-02-11T10:50:00.000-08:00

Please note that Squaregirl is NOT a quantum physicist, nor is she claiming to be an expert on quantum physics...please read with that in mind...

The exact position and velocity of an electron is very hard to find because attempts to "see" it involve bouncing other particles off of it. By doing this, you've just changed the electron's velocity, so your data is useless…

One of my more recent topics of interest has been quantum physics (albeit the abridged layman’s version of it). One of the things that interests me about quantum physics is that particles, atoms, etc. CHANGE simply by being observed…This is fascinating to me…especially in my own practice of developing theories, I have developed quite a few through my own observations of the children I have taught and worked with…My most useful “research” was done when I taught a class of eight boys on diagnosed on the spectrum, as I had the opportunity to observe eight children at one time, instead of one at a time, like most people usually get to do…

More often than not, I noticed that while all my students were individuals, there was something collective about their behavior. I noticed that there were days when everyone was happy, content and themselves, and there were days, that it seemed like ALL of my students were just having an off day (when I say having an ‘”off day” I am not trying to imply anything negative, but simply saying that they seemed to not be the way they were typically). The theories I came up with as to why this was were the following:

1. Something in the environment was causing everyone to be “off”, i.e. a full moon, the weather, the smell of new paint, etc.
2. I was the one who was “off” and they were responding to my energy…they were intuitive like that
3. My perception of them is that they were “off” when in fact they were not off at all

I have chosen to assume that all three of these theories plays a role in how I perceived my guys’ behavior, yet there was something that really intrigued me when I was teaching.

My classroom was a SELPA classroom and considered to be a “model classroom” (oh dear…do model classrooms have only one computer that is broken computer and very limited school supplies?). As a result, our class was observed A LOT (by parents, therapists, consultants, SELPA directors, principals, etcetera, etcetera) and when I say A LOT, I mean sometimes like three to four times a day. While I have no problem with the concept of observation in general, there were many times I recall shouting (in my head of course), “get out of our classroom already!” Here’s the thing…whenever people came into my classroom, my students CHANGED, sometimes subtly, sometimes for the better, but their behavior was almost always different. The amusing thing to me, was that my students rarely acknowledged the existence of the adults entering the room, and to a careless observer, it might appear as if they didn’t even know, but let me and the classroom aides tell you…THEY NOTICED. Another thing interesting to me, is the way they changed…see, sometimes the change was big and sometimes it was small, on the rare occasion they became better behaved, but mostly their behavior was a little more er, exaggerated (I really can’t put my finger on the right word for this, I would say “worse”, but I don’t think that “behavior” is good or bad, but just so people get the idea). Needless to say, I had some regular observers and non-regular observers, and I really began to notice a pattern. There was one particular consultant that came in and EVERY TIME she did, my student’s stims would increase, and they would become more anxious, (one of my students would run and hide his beloved legos, another try to retreat to the corner, another would approach me and try to pull some piece of jewelery or clothing, another would begin rocking). Then there was the district’s special ed. director, who used to be a Special Ed. teacher for years and she would just look at my students and they would behave like the angels I knew they could be…

My point being quite obviously that it really began to seem to me that the energy of the observer, changed what, or who in this case. Again, I am quite open to the idea that it is I who changed affecting my students or their perceptions, but I am not convinced that this is the entire explanation. I am quite certain that environment plays a role on the behaviors of the children I work with, but to me, environment includes not only chemicals and toxins, but things such as schedule changes, furniture placement, sounds, and most importantly the people that are in the environment. I think people tend to forget how much of an impact that the energy of people affects how children on the spectrum and everyone and come to think of it, EVERY LIVE THING, for that matter react, and we need to pay more attention to our own selves more often than we tend to do in order to help those around us flourish.

I often wonder...

2006-02-10T20:09:00.000-08:00

if our president ever read...I tend to imagine that if he did read, he read books like 1984 and thought "Big Brother, neat! that's one heck of an idea!"

Six more weeks of what?

2006-02-08T20:45:00.000-08:00

One of the grooviest things about the new significant vehicle in my life, other than the handy, multi-size accomodating cupholders, is my own handy-dandy outdoor temperature guage...I've never had my own personal outdoor themometer before, so I am quite enchanted with it...anyhow, today, driving between appointments in and around Pasadena, California, I noticed that my very own personal themometer said 83 degrees farenheit! Someone needs to let that Phil charater know about this...

A new "day"

2006-02-08T11:25:00.000-08:00

Happy "make up your own day" day! It took me all day yesterday to come up with that one...I like it though!

Make-up Days...

2006-02-07T20:27:00.000-08:00

Apparently, according to the new West magazine delivered with my Sunday Los Angeles Times, today is "dump your significant jerk" day. I've never had a significant "jerk", as I don't like jerks too much and practice blatant discrimination against them, but if I did, I'd be sure to dump them today. Of course, I encourage everyone to dump their "significant jerks" at any time, should they have one, and not just wait for "dump your significant jerk" day, which coincidentally or not comes one week before "single awareness" day. Of course the most interesting thing about this whole thing, is that apparently anyone anyone can just make up a day these days...Now that I know this, I think I can entertain myself for hours, making up days, like "adopt a spider" day or "hug a crossing guard" day...I wonder what one does to make a day official, or at least get it written about in the new West magazine...hmmm...well, I''ll think about that part tomorrow, and today I'll just concentrate on making up days.

A Monday search for inspiration…

2006-02-06T14:57:00.000-08:00

I just realized how many songs are written about “Monday’s”. And they are usually about how they (along with rainy days) always get someone down, or they’re manic, or someone doesn’t like ‘em wants to shoot them down…I don’t know why Monday has gotten such a horrible rap…I mean, I have to admit to being rather uninspired, but I have no reason to HATE Monday or want to shoot it down or anything…There are some Tuesday songs about Ruby’s and being gone and there are hardly ANY Wednesday, Thursday or even Friday and Saturday songs (you’d think there would be more Friday and Saturday song’s, but there are surprisingly few)…bloody Sunday’s…a couple, but again, not much. I never found Monday, to be too inspiring personally, but then again, I’m no songwriter.

A very long post indeed, no need to read...

2006-02-03T22:00:00.000-08:00

Being involved in the world of autism, there are many questions that I have that are left unanswered, and I don’t mean questions like “What the heck IS autism anyway?” (of course that is an unanswered question that I have…) but I mean questions like why the color blue? And why trains? (those I can understand a little), but why rainbows? And what is so terrible about the birthday song anyway? And I will admit (with the risk of sounding loony) that on more than one occasion I have had conversations with other teachers/consultants/therapists that went like this…

Teacher: “My kids were a little off yesterday.”
SG: “Was there a full moon last night?”
Teacher: “No, and I checked. There wasn’t a full moon.”

I am resigned to the fact that the answers to most of these questions can or never will be answered via research or a carefully designed study, and have thus been practicing what many careful observers in this autismworld practice…developing theories. Theories that would most likely be considered nutty to the scientific community…

In the past, many plants have fallen victim to my self proclaimed very-non-green thumb…Needless to say, on a weekend visit to my grandparents about four years ago, my grandmother insisted, as she always does, that I pick out a piece of furniture from her house so that she could give it to me right then and there (you know, before she dies…her words). I am always torn when she does this, as I know she really wants me to have something, yet I don’t want to just take pieces of her furniture, as she is not dead and she and my grandfather are still using their furniture. So on this particular hot July day, for some reason or another, I decided that it was time for me to attempt to be a non-killing plant owner once again and I told her that now that she mentioned it, my place could use some more life, and maybe I could have one of her plants, as I really liked the idea of having something that belonged to my grandparents and was LIVE…it seemed kind of special. She loved the idea, as I thought she might and she carefully chose one of her plants that had been with my grandparents for 15 years and survived 2 moves with them that included both snow and very hot weather. I was extremely pleased with her choice as well, until after my three hour trip home in my un-airconditioned black jetta, I saw that over half of the leaves had completely wilted, and I devastated at the fact that I had killed my grandparents plant, that I was so determined to keep alive.

I immediately called the boyfriend, as he had grown up working in the family business, a flower shop in East Los Angeles. I had often heard him, his brothers and dad talk about flowers and plants and what kind of climate and weather they “liked”, yet thought nothing of it. When he came over, he looked at the plant and immediately started cutting off the dead leaves, as well as about half of the remaining leaves that I thought were perfectly fine. I was horrified, yet he insisted that these leaves needed to be cut off as they were already dead, and that despite the fact that the plant looked hopeless, it was going to be fine. Over the next few moths he continues to nurture, water, re-pot,and rotate the plant and I paid a little but not much attention to it, until one day, a couple months later, I looked up and noticed that the plant was not only really, really alive, but beautiful and thriving! I was truly amazed and over the course of the next few years, my apartment began to fill with more and more living green plants, under the careful eye of my boyfriend…”the cactus likes it that room,” he would tell me…uh, okay. "This one likes this corner"…it does?, I would think. Our Saturday morning ritual has been that while I make breakfast, he waters, rotates and trims all of my now 17 plants (I say “my”, because it is my apartment…he has his own)…he ALWAYS takes his time, and nurtures my plants, and they have always THRIVED. Last summer, Boyfriend was going to be spending 2 months out of state and left me with careful instructions about my plants (how to water them, how often to rotate them, places in my apartment each liked, etc.). After nearly a month, I was quite proud that I had followed the instructions to a tee and all of my plants were still alive, yet at the same time, when I looked around at them I could tell that they were not nearly as happy as they had been before…they were a little droopy and not nearly as lively. They weren’t dying, just not as beautiful and healthy as they had been before I took over their care. I remember looking at them one day and realizing how amazing it was that they were actually ALIVE, and how these, seemingly minor details, such as love, attention, observation and care made such a huge difference. I remember the impact it made when I realized how these living things that DIDN’T SPEAK, responded to attention and energy. It was at this moment, I realized the importance of these often overlooked, unresearched things such as love, observation and respect that actually made a world of difference to a LIVE, breathing growing entity.

Lessons like these, (the ones that take forever to learn because they don’t beat you over the head, yet are subtle and profound), always have a pervasive impact on my life…I have incorporated this lesson into my work, and have found that it makes quite an impact. Despite the fact that there are many professionals that think I am being strange, I will never speak negatively of any of the kids I work with and when in their presence, always speak as if everything I say is being heard and understood by them (I am quite certain that on some level it is). I only entertain loving and positive thought about my children, and attempt to be a constant observer of how much water they need, what parts of the room they like to be in, what I say about them and how I treat them. I am sure that they respond to my energy and my belief in their potential, and have learned from the resilience of my grandmother’s plant to never, ever give up on or underestimate the power of life and to always remember to love and nurture it.

In memory...

2006-02-02T16:45:00.000-08:00

"Women, if the soul of the nation is to be saved, I believe that you must become its soul."
Coretta Scott King

Moving On...

2006-02-01T18:48:00.000-08:00

I know it’s been a while between posts for me lately, but I have been quite drained lately, especially after ending a five-year relationship with The Jett, and while I don’t really want to talk about it, we had been having tough times especially of late. IT IS SO OVER. There is no turning back, as I have already traded the Jett in for something a little lower maintenance, and while some say I would have been better off keeping The Jett around for a little until I sold him, I just didn’t want that kind of emotional baggage that might come in the way between my new relationship with the Civic…I’m really not the kind of girl to be hanging out with two cars at once if you know what I mean. Anyways, I know that always people say things like this, but this time it is going to be different, I am sure. I am sure that the Civic will make me happy, and besides it will most likely fit in better with the rest of my family since they all have good relationships with their own Honda’s…of course they all have Hybrids, and my Civic may feel a little insecure about that, but I am quite sure that my family will love him anyway…they can be very accepting that way…So while I know that I can never be a FOREVER kind of gal with my cars (I’m a little fickle like that), I am quite sure that the Civic and I will be very happy together for the next few years…And despite all of our farfanuugen days at the beach and driving up Angela’s Crest, I have ended my dysfunctional relationship with The Jett, and am never looking back!

Building Rapport

2006-01-30T19:07:00.000-08:00

As the oldest of five children, and a span of only eight years difference between us all, it is rare that we hear any charming, stories about our childhood, that start of with “When you were three did the sweetest/cutest/adorable thing…”, but rather most stories that were even remembered by my mom were about things like the time we flushed a diaper down the toilet, causing it to back up and flood the bathroom or how we decided to dig a hole in the backyard to make a swimming pool, or how my sister was rushed to the hospital on becoming ill due to a good ole fashioned water drinking contest. As my mother likes to tell us, the rest was pretty much a blur. There is this one story however, that she remembers and shares with me every Christmastime, that goes something like this…

When I was around three or four (age is of no consequence or importance in stories told by mom, as she never can remember them), I was suffering from extreme sensory overload one Christmas Eve, due to the fact that to accommodate our big extended family, Christmas ran several days. My mom kept insisting that I go to sleep, but I simply wouldn’t. Apparently, when she came into my room for the final time, we had a conversation that went something like this.

MamaSquare: “SquareGirl, you need to go to sleep.”
SG: “ I don’t want to go to sleep, I’m not sleepy.”
MS: “Well you need to go to sleep so that it will be Christmas”
SG: “When’s Christmas?”
MS: “Christmas is tomorrow”
SG: “What’s tomorrow?”
MS: “Well, It’s when you go to sleep…”
SG: “I don’t want to go to sleep. I’m not sleepy.”

And so the conversation went and apparently I eventually went to sleep because the next day, while we were opening presents, I looked up during the middle of all the mayhem and announced “It’s tomorrow!”

Of all the stories my mom could’ve chosen to remember, I am quite glad that she chose this one, as it is a constant reminder of how more abstract concepts about time such as “later”, “tomorrow” and “next time” can be taught and reinforced. It also reminds me how important it is to honor these phrases that are all too often thrown out without follow through in order to gain rapport. While I am going to be honest and say that I am not always perfect about this with the adult friends in my life, I make every effort to follow through when I tell a child I work with “next time I’ll bring you…”, “Wait a minute and I’ll…”, “tomorrow we are going to…”, “later you will get to…”. And because I honor my commitments to all of my little friends, I find that I build, a really important thing that often goes unmentioned in the training manuals and books, called rapport. Rapport doesn’t happen overnight, but I have found that the more I make promises of doing something at a future time and follow up, the more rapport I gain (imagine that!). The added value of building rapport is that you through rapport are also teaching more abstract concepts such as time, and you never know when one of your little students is going to look up at you to let you know that "it’s tomorrow."

Creative pursuits

2006-01-27T19:37:00.000-08:00

When I first began private work in the field of autism over twelve years ago, things were much different than they are now. At the time I was working as an ABA therapist for some in-home programs and I would often take my little friends that I worked with on outings, which is something that would never happen today. One of all of my little friend’s favorite outings was to go to my parent’s house, as they owned this very big, very old Victorian house that was fun to explore. We also had a golden retriever, very creatively named “Goldie”, who like all dogs was very special, but the most unique thing about her was her intuitive calmness around small children and that even children who were typically afraid of dogs, loved Goldie. Of course the fact that she had been hit by a car THREE TIMES after jumping off our balcony to chase one of my parents cars when they left the house, helped mellow her out a lot, but she always had a way with children, as well as small dogs and cats…small creatures always loved Goldie. Three years after I had moved and had stopped working with my little friend Jamie, he called my parents house and when my mom answered, he asked her if Goldie was there. Goldie made quite an impression, especially on children.

The day after taking another one of my friends, Aaron to meet Goldie for the first time, he began to ask me about when we were going to see Goldie, and our conversation went almost exactly like this (it’s been a while, but it is always one I remember as it made me laugh so)

A: “SquareGirl, are you going to take me to your mom’s house again to see Goldie? Are we going to see Goldie again? At your mom's house? Will you take me to see Goldie?”
SG: “Yes, Aaron, I’ll take you to my mom’s to see Goldie again.”
A: “ SquareGirl, will you take me to see Goldie? Are you going to take me to your mom’s to see Goldie?”
SG: “Yes, Aaron, I will take you again to see Goldie, I promise”
A: “SquareGirl…Are you going to take me to see Goldie again at your mom’s house?”
SG: “Yes Aaron, but you can’t ask me that anymore. You asked me too many times, so I will take you, but you have to stop asking me.”

After about 2 minutes during which my compliant little Aaron refrained from asking me about Goldie, and I thought I had succeeded in stopping his perseverative questioning, he looked up and me and asked

A: “SquareGirl? I can’t ask you anymore if you are going to take me to see Goldie? I asked you to many times? I can’t ask if you are going to take me to your mom’s house to see Goldie? I can’t ask you anymore?”

I had to laugh. Sometimes there really is no right answer.

Convenience

2006-01-26T21:19:00.000-08:00

Today I needed to make ONE copy and as I am often in the field rather than in the office, I had to swing by Kinko's to make this copy. Now Kinko's copy machines doesn't take any old currency, like say money, but rather make you purchase a card and put a minimum of a dollar on it in order to make copies. Today as I made my ONE copy, I realized those people at Kinko's are genius.
I had already lost at least five of these cards.

Friends and Relatives

2006-01-25T19:19:00.000-08:00

My 24 year old brother’s favorite running joke is how old I getting that is why it I am always a few steps behind when it comes to pop culture and the news. Today when I saw him, he asked me if I heard about Rumsfeld’s response to the financial “breaking point” of the army in Iraq. No, but I just learned that a snake and a rat are friends. “You mean the snake and the hamster at the Tokyo Zoo? Yeah, I know, it’s been in the news for months.” Oh. So as he told to me about some alleged breaking point and something this Rumsfeld guy was saying, I couldn’t really pay too much attention, as I continued to perseverate on the fact that a snake and a hamster, who was supposed to be the snakes FOOD, were just hanging out peacefully together, being best friends and all…

I mean, I think they are trying to tell us something.

I’m sure my brother’s story was quite important as well, but I'm not sure how, as I really wasn't listening very well being that was probably completely unrelated to the message of the hamster and the snake.

Because I get to have conversations like this...

2006-01-24T08:08:00.000-08:00

When people find out that I work with children diagnosed on the spectrum, they often say things like “Wow! I could never do that, it must be hard!”…well, not really actually. I mean it USED to be hard, back when I thought it was hard, but now that I realize it is extremely rewarding, it is….extremely rewarding and satisfying and entertaining and really, really gratifying. And, while I know this may be corny, I actually love the fact that I actually get to have conversations like this…

D: Look SquareGirl, the moon! (pointing to the moon)
SG: Yes D., the moon! Thank you so much for showing me, I love it when you share with me!
D: Touch it!
SG: Oh D., what a wonderful idea, I wish I could!
D: Reach for it!
SG: Okay D. I will. Thanks for the advice.

Just passing on a message from my new dear friends at Thai Sabai…

2006-01-23T20:21:00.000-08:00

“Kindly step outside to retrieve messages from your cell phone, it will improve your karma.”

I feel that my karma has improved for passing on this message.

Goshdarnit, there I go, jinxing my karma…oh well, at least the kink in my neck is gone.

Happy Birthday BabyG!

2006-01-22T21:05:00.000-08:00

I love you sunshine! Can't wait to see what your terrific two's bring.

Love Always,
Auntie

A little poem I wrote before my morning coffee...

2006-01-22T09:42:00.000-08:00

And after my morning coffee, I will likely have the good sense to take it down...

Infinity
Come swim with me in this infinite sea,
Where I am you and you are We
And we are all one in infinity.

Nevermind, I'll guess I'll keep it.

Today's something new I learned...

2006-01-21T14:29:00.000-08:00

Something new I learned today is how to blog stuff in italics. While blogging stuff in italics may seem like no big deal to most, I am what my siblings refer to as the "technically challenged" one in the family, as they all do fancy stuff like "photoshop" and use digital camera's with like 16 megapixels and otherwise I wouldn't even know these things actually exist. My camera has four megapixels and feels rather inferior to my siblings Leica's and 16 megapixel camera's which is why I am glad it is so small so that it can easily hideout whenever my siblings cameras are around. Tomorrow I might try other fancy-schmancy stuff, like changing font sizes, but today, I am quite satisfied to have learned how to blog in italics.

What the heck does "heck" mean...

2006-01-20T01:07:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,
You seem to like to use the word “heck” a whole heck of a lot. I know how fond you are of using words out of context, leaving us all to figure out what you really meant by what you said (I would find that amusing too), and I believe that I have finally figured out that what you mean by “heck” is actually “fill in the blank”. Much like the word “Bleep” can be substituted for a variety of different words, “Heck” can also be used in a bleepload of ways. And that being the case, let me just say…”Mr. President, you’re doing a heck of a job”.

Peace,
SquareGirl

I’m “it”, your “it”, we’re all “it”…

2006-01-18T21:57:00.000-08:00

I never really liked tag, never got the concept of it. I mean, what is the ultimate point? Is it a good thing to be “it”, or is it bad? What makes the game stop? I mean, are we all still playing tag? Is it possible that I could be “it” and not even know it? And speaking of strange childhood games, about that dodgeball…I’m not sure who the evil geniuses were that came up with that game, but I am quite sure that they are all currently in office. But now QueenB tagged me and I quite like QueenB. She shares one of my favorite titles, “Auntie”. So I will give this a shot, but since I always enjoy making up my own rules, as it annoys authority so, I have made a few changes to this 2x2 list.

2x2 list:
2 names you go by: SquareGirl, Auntie
2 parts of your heritage: Basque, Basque
2 things that scare you: Dodgeball, and while I love dogs, I am terrified of Pitbulls…I have a tragic story about Pitbulls that I will refrain from writing about as it is quite traumatic, and Mercury (not the planet)
2 of your everyday essentials: pass
2 things you are wearing right now: pass
2 things you want in a relationship: authenticity and acceptance, oh and humor too
2 truths: I need a whole post for this one…
2 of your favorite hobbies: pass
2 things you want really badly: World Peace
2 places you want to go on vacation: Bali, Santa Fe
2 things you want to do before you die: I prefer not to put that kind of pressure on myself
2 ways that you are stereotypically a chick: I use the Women’s restroom, I occasionally wear a skirt
2 things you are thinking about now: The first thing I am thinking about, the second thing I am thinking about
2 stores you shop at: pass
2 weird habits: Got an hour or two?
2 favorite items in the house: My view
2 stores and Barney's I wish we had: Pass
2 things that make me cry: Onions and really, really funny things
2 things I wish I could do different: Avoid dodgeballs
2 things I do very badly: Avoid Dodgeballs
2 hidden talents: Breaking rules
2 other email names: pass
2 difficult paths I took: There was this one in Angeles Crest, but I don’t think it had a name
2 Movies that you have seen last: King Kong (poor ole sweet King Kong!), The Producers
2 Changes you would like to see in the world: Peace, Lack of Judgment, Compassion, more Humor, more Love, Authenticity, Less consumerism, more empathy, a cleaner environment…
2 people to tag: Who to tag…who to tag? Well, I think I rather like being “It”

Thanks QueenB! Tag is so much more fun when you don’t have to run.

Because some things deserve more than just one day...

2006-01-17T14:49:00.000-08:00

The paradox of honoring someone who eloquently spoke of and influenced peaceful protest of discrimination and judgment, during a time when some of our country’s most prevalent issues include war, terrorism, and invasion of privacy serves as a striking reminder of both how far we’ve come, yet how much farther we have left to go. While there are many holiday’s that I refrain from celebrating, due to the absurdity of it all (Valentine’s Day comes to mind), I really enjoy holiday’s such as Martin Luther King Jr. day, as it reminds me to really reflect upon and honor the simple, yet often forgotten values of peace and love as well as how much of an impact one individual can make, despite bureaucracy, politics, the existing system and a society that is all too fond of saying, “that’s bureaucracy/politics/system/society. It’s not going to change.”

It’s holiday’s like MLK day that serve as a reminder of those that HEARD people tell them "it's not going to change", but listened with their hearts, rather than their ears. Those that didn’t just recite well-written speeches, but LIVED what they spoke, influencing others through their actions as well as their words.

“There should be less talk; a preaching point is not a meeting point. What do you do then? Take a broom and clean someone's house. That says enough.”

These simple words of Mother Teresa always leave me speechless as they remind me that it is action, simple, doable action that makes more of a difference than words.

I often wonder if our society has failed to cultivate and nurture any future Martin Luther King Jr.’s, Mother Teresa’s or Ghandi’s or if society is even prepared to listen to or even recognize the next peace warrior that comes along. Perhaps our new teachers will not be quite as iconic as they used to be and in fact, perhaps they will not look like, sound like or be what we might expect.

I often laugh to myself when I say that I teach children on the spectrum. I think they laugh at me too when I say such things, thinking “SHE is teaching US? That’s what SHE thinks.” I can honestly say that I’ve changed to the core as a result of all that I have been taught by each of my very special and amazing little friends. They have taught me the importance of love, compassion, non-judgment, to see people for WHO they are, not by what they wear or say or drive. They have taught me that big groups of people, meetings and parties are HIGHLY overrated and not nearly as valuable as intimacy and true friendship. They have taught me that authenticity is so much more important than status and when you really think about it a dollar bill is just a green piece of paper. They have taught me that external validation is so much less important than really being happy about being yourself.

So maybe our new teachers will not be able to speak with the same eloquence as Martin Luther King Jr., but then again, maybe it’s time we evolve enough to hear with new ears. Maybe it’s time to recognize the message of peace and love that the Universe is constantly attempting to teach us. And maybe it’s time we all stopped preaching in order to "listen" as we pick up a broom and start sweeping.

Remembering...

2006-01-16T13:05:00.000-08:00

“The hope of a secure and livable world lies with disciplined nonconformists who are dedicated to justice, peace and brotherhood.”

“Nonviolence is the answer to the crucial political and moral questions of our time; the need for mankind to overcome oppression and violence without resorting to oppression and violence. Mankind must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression, and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love.”

Martin Luther King Jr.

Peace,
SquareGirl

Ahhh, the irony!

2006-01-15T19:35:00.001-08:00

After a week of spending quite a bit more time online than usual, I came home from work on Friday to discover that my DSL was no longer working. So after spending some lovely quality time on the phone with the good people at SBC, I was informed that they needed to send a technician out and would I be available MONDAY between 4 and8?...??!!???!!! So until then, when I have been home this weekend, I have been wandering around my apartment with my laptop in an attempt to “borrow” a signal form one of my many neighboring DSL subscribers, and I finally picked up an ever so slight one here…

And yes, that in the background is THE remaining earing, and yes I know, that is not a Buddha candle, but a Buddha candle HOLDER and in case you can’t tell, I am quite certain he is laughing at me. So I now am correcting any marginalized fiction from my Lesson Learned. 1. It was a Buddha candle HOLDER and 2. maybe I didn’t learn the lesson after all.

This post is 100% True.

The Right Way

2006-01-12T14:03:00.000-08:00

My grandfather tells me he would have been left-handed, but when he was a boy, they were not ALLOWED to be left-handed and if he tried to use his left hand his teachers or parents would slap it. Thank goodness my grandfather has corrected this aberrant behavior and to this day is now right-handed! I mean can you imagine how inconvenient and annoying it would be to all of us right-handed people to have to see people like my grandfather using their left hands our entire lives?

Lesson Learned...

2006-01-11T06:12:00.000-08:00

Last week I went shopping with one of my sisters and I bought a pair of earrings that I adored and a Buddha candle. I looooved those earrings so much that as soon as I walked into my apartment I went to my bathroom mirror to try them on and dropped one right down the uncovered drain in my bathroom sink. My sister thought I should try to open the pipes to get it out, but I opted not to. I’m quite certain that if you try to open the pipes to retrieve an earring the same day you bought them AND a Buddha candle, you’ve missed the point.

What Ails us...

2006-01-10T08:26:00.000-08:00

Ironically, or perhaps appropriately, the only two things I remember very well about my undergrad. abnormal psych class are the two caveats issued by the teacher.

1. Diagnosis’s can be a Catch 22. Helpful because they help us understand ourselves or others better and (possibly) know how to better help people, yet harmful because they can reduce a person to a label that comes with a whole lot of assumptions and enable people to falsely believe that the diagnosis IS the person.

2. We would all most likely contract Medical Students Disease…you know, the disease where everytime you hear all of the symptoms of a “disease” or “disorder”, you are SURE that you or someone you know has it.

I did indeed contract Medical Student’s disease, but thank goodness, have since recovered from it. Gosh there was some rough going there, but I am happy to say that I am finally completely Medical Student Disease Free.

Converstaions with very clever people...

2006-01-09T13:25:00.000-08:00

The wonderful thing about becoming adult, is that if you pay enough attention, you begin to understand yourself better. You understand your needs, how to meet them, why things affect you the way they do, and what to do about the way you are affected by things. I often find that the best way to know how to treat someone, refer to someone, talk to someone is simply to ask them, as they usually know best.

I have a good friend who used to stutter as a child, so when I was working with a little guy who stuttered, but was not yet able to understand enough to tell me why, I asked my friend what I should do to help him. She told me that because stuttering tends to be anxiety driven, the best thing to do is to sustain neutral eye contact, as a break in eye contact communicates that you have stopped listening. Also, you should not interrupt or try to speak for the person, as that will only fluster them and perpetuate more stuttering. Intuitively this makes a lot of sense to me. I don’t consider myself to stutter, but often, when I haven’t taken enough time to gather my thoughts, I speak what the boyfriend affectionately refers to as "Bushman" (as in the South African Bushmen, not the president…although I guess it could work either way). It’s interesting to me how many people who think of themselves as quite clever respond to certain things in the same exact way. On many occasions, I have had this exact conversation (well okay, maybe not EXACT conversation, but still quite close) with these oh-so clever people...

SG (before fully collecting thoughts): “I…um, I, well I think, er…”

CleverPeople (cutting me off): “Uh, Uh, Uh, Uh!”

SG: Silence

CP: “I’m just kidding.”

SG: Silence

CP: “Go ahead. What were you going to say?”

SG: “Nothing. Nevermind.”

CP: “No really, I was just joking. I want to know.”

SG: “That’s okay.”

CP: “Just tell me.”

SG: “No, it was nothing.”

CP: “C’mon SG. Just say it!”

SG: “No. It’s okay.”

CP: “I don’t understand why you won’t tell me. Why you gotta make such a big deal out of this?!?!”

…um.…sorry?

One reason that Dr. Seuss is my favorite Doctor...

2006-01-07T14:42:00.000-08:00

I often believe that children diagnosed on the spectrum enjoy challenging our creativity. “You mean you’re just going to tell or ask me to do something? C’mon!, you can do better than THAT!”. I occasionally find my creativity rewarded with an unexpected, yet positive response...

Jason was a picky eater, and one thing that still remains a challenge for me is the food thing. I love a challenge and am always willing to address ANY issue, tantrums, biting, running, you name it, but food is an issue that I believe can’t be forced. I would do my best to get Jason to eat whatever new healthy food was sent by his mom, but unless it was something he ate regularly at home, he would refuse to even try it, until one day when I held up a cherry tomato and said…

“Try it, try it and you may. Try it and you may I say”

I was stunned but pleased when he actually picked up the tomato, ate it and emphatically and enthusiastically said:

“Saaaaaay! I like tomatos and ham! I do, I like it SquareGirl-I-Am!”

You got me thinking...

2006-01-06T21:13:00.000-08:00

“Hi. I know we just met, but I will be your sons/daughters teacher for the next year. You may know nothing about me. I may in fact be loving, may have a sibling with on the spectrum and may have certification in sensory integration. On the other hand, I may in fact be rude, judgmental and impatient. I may be inexperienced, and may feed your child cupcakes and punch (I mean, no big deal, it was a party after all). I may hate my job or then again, I may love it. Or I may be here simply because the district couldn’t find anyone better. But it doesn’t matter. I mean why should it matter if you know these things or not because this year, six hours per day, everyday, I am your child’s teacher whom you will entrust to teach your child and if I have the time, I might jot down a couple sentences a day to let you know how he/she did.”

Hmmm…Now that I think of it, maybe teachers need blogs of their own.

More than I care to report...

2006-01-05T14:29:00.000-08:00

I’ve read (and written) a whole lot of reports. And assessments. And IEP’s. More than I care to count. I hate reports and assessments and IEP’s and have found them, for the most part, to be very impractical and at times pretty useless and inaccurate. You might be thinking, but wait, I have this really wonderful report written by (insert noted expert’s name here), but I would argue that you are probably wrong. I clearly remember discovering how useless reports, IEP’s and assessments were to me on my first day of teaching an SDC class of children all diagnosed with autism, grades K-4 (Don’t even get me started on the genius of that plan). As I waited at the front of the school to pick up some of my kids, someone came out of the school office to tell me that the bus driver, at back of the school called to let them know that Jeremy had ran out of the bus and I needed to get him, as well as my other students slowly disregulating on the bus for me. Let’s see, Jeremy (whom I had never met)…can count rote to 100, adds double digit numbers, receives OT 2x’s per week for 30 min., had a behavioral plan for aggression the previous year…I was sure I could locate him somewhere on the campus of oh, say 800 restless kids who had yet to enter their own classroom for the first time this year. After all, I was very familiar with autism and my class was the only SDC class on campus, as it had been moved here this year because the school it was at the previous year ran out of room…

So after a whole lot of chaos which included oh-so-wonderful first time encounters with several of the general ed. teachers I had not yet met “Hi, I’m the new SDC teacher here…you know the one you resent for getting one of the bigger classrooms because we needed a sink for the new class that you can’t even understand why has to be on our campus and now is MAKING you take one of her students for math ‘cause it’s the law’, even though it really isn’t your problem. Lovely to meet you too”. one of the aides from the previous year (we at least got to keep something) showed up and helped us locate Jeremy and get him and my now (due to 15 minutes of waiting) extremely disregulated students into the classroom. After that, I proceeded to have one of the most chaotic, crazy, disheartening, frustrating and disregulating, days of my life. I realized that I had nearly committed to memory almost 8 feet worth of reports and IEP’s, that did not tell me anything I really would have liked or needed to know…

What I would have liked and needed to know is that Jeremy is quite agile and coordinated, loves the colors pink and black, craves a lot of deep pressure and will eat chalk (entire pieces of chalk). I would have liked and needed to know that William, loves to be chased and the best way to make that happen is by running away from people, especially during long fire drills where you are outside and there are plenty of people to chase you, really thrives with a photo schedule, doesn’t like having furniture moved, is very affectionate, happy and loves music. I would have liked to know that Steven loves Good Night Moon, is very interested in the weather and seasons, and likes things to be very clean and neat.

Instead I knew that Jeremy added two digit numbers 80% of the time 4 out of 5 trials, William could read 25 sight words, including STOP (yes, he could read the word STOP, but would not do so when running through a field with 800 students and teachers). And that Steven knew the phonics sounds of all 26 letters 90% of the time.

As I read some amazing blogs about children like sweet India, charming Bud and a cute little guy named Charlie, I realize now, that instead of a stack of reports and IEP’s, in order to know, understand, work with, accommodate and teach others about my students, what I really needed for each of my new students was a blog.