Vacation

For those of you who may have missed it, I'm on a four-week vacation with my family. You can find our adventures here: Crazy Family Takes a Road Trip.

Letters You Wish You Could Send

Jeff and I, the kids, Jeff's dad, and another couple all went to Addison's Kaboom Town tonight. I really like the fact that it's always held on July 3rd, so we can still go and do something on the 4th without having to try to choose which fireworks celebration we like better. We sit close to the end of the runway at Addison Airport, just outside the fences, because there is a really cool airshow and we get to see all of the planes on the ground just 20 or 30 yards away as they're getting ready to take off.

I did take some pictures, but the camera is in the car and it's late, so I'll upload them tomorrow. In the meantime, I'd like to share with you two letters that I'll never get to send. I'm not normally this grumpy, but tonight I was! The online community of which I'm a part has an ongoing discussion that shares the title of tonight's post, and this was my contribution for the night.

Happy Fourth of July!

Letter #1
Dear woman who sat directly to the south of me at the huge-mongous fireworks show tonight,

I am happy that you found such a good vantage point. Yes, we really like the north end of the airport too, and it was such a good spot that you promptly called at least five of your best friends who all showed up with their several children. And yes, I fully agree that bug spray is important, since mosquitoes are omnipresent in a Texas summer.

But you know what? It was windy today. Quite a strong breeze, as a matter of fact. So while you were bug-spraying every adult and child in your party of 25 people, did you not happen to notice at all that the ten of us sitting directly next to you were choking and coughing? Were you completely oblivious to the fact that you brought more than one of us to tears because our eyes were burning? When you use an aerosol SPRAY, that overspray has to go somewhere. My eyes and lungs, along with the eyes and lungs of my children, are--listen carefully here--not the appropriate place for the residue of your zealous bug prevention.

I swear, ten percent of the can landed on the intended targets, while we inhaled the other ninety percent. The next time you go outside, lady, do us both a favor and spray at home or not at all! You'll save your insect repellent, and I'll save my eyes. Thanks for nothing.

Love,
The family sitting downwind

Letter #2
Dear idiots sitting behind us,

Fireworks are illegal in Dallas County. Yes, dim bulb, that includes sparklers. I enjoyed them as much as the next kid twenty years ago, but they were legal where I lived and we didn't light them in a parking lot full of other people and small children! I'm SO glad you were busy drinking beerpaying such close attention to the ten kids in your group who were waving them around, so you could warn the little girl in blue not to wave it six inches from my stroller. Oh wait, that was me. And how thoughtful of you to stand there like an idiotrealize that one little boy dropped his onto the very dry grass just twelve inches behind us, which immediately caught fire. Oh wait, that was my friend, who grabbed the sparkler, dropped it onto the cement, and stomped out the fire.

I hope you burn your hands on the next box, since I saw the package of 150 that you still hadn't lit. And yes, it WAS me who called the police to let them know that someone was using illegal fireworks. You want to light sparklers? Do it in your own driveway, where you're putting your family at risk and not mine. If that makes me the grumpy mean old lady who ruins other people's fun, so be it.

So there.

Sincerely,
Me. The grumpy, mean old lady sitting in front of you.

Jeff's birthday present...or is it mine?

Jeff's parents are notoriously difficult to shop for. There isn't a lot that either of them need, so for Dad's birthday or for Father's Day, the family tends to buy him things that they want themselves. He knows this, and it's kind of a running joke among the adult children. Want a new toy? An RC boat, new toys for the pool, Rock Band? Buy it for Dad!

Last month, I found a camera I wanted. I don't need a new camera, since Jeff got me one for Mother's Day last year, and it works just fine. The one I was lusting after was pure want. It's an Olympus, a brand I've always admired in cameras, and it's 8MP as compared to my 6MP, but what really had me drooling is the fact that it's completely waterproof up to 10 feet and shockproof when dropped from up to 5 feet. (Here, read all about it yourself.) I have a friend who owns one, and she is the most incredible photographer, so I figured if she likes it then that's a pretty strong recommendation right there.

So, back to the presents thing. I wanted the Olympus. I mean, I really, really wanted it. No excuse to buy it whatsoever, other than the fact that it would be just a cool thing. I found some really good deals online, but with no real justification, I just couldn't do it. Then I went to Costco one day, and the store was featuring a traveling roadshow selling ten different types of high-end cameras they don't normally carry. Guess which model they had? Yes, they had it. Yes, I am an impulse shopper. I grabbed it, checked out, and headed home, all the while trying to figure out how I could rationalize my purchase. Then it hit me: Jeff's birthday is in June! And if we can buy Dad the things we want to play with ourselves, then I could give Jeff my new a new camera because I really want it it's his birthday. Perfect!

So here are the first few shots with my new toy. None of them are really underwater, but I took pictures while the kids were playing with the hose, which I would have never done with my Samsung.

Lily is trying to convince us that Aspen's tricycle should really be Lily's tricycle. It's kind of funny, because unless she's on the slightly-downhill-slanted driveway, she can only go backwards on the trike.

We made water shadows, which evaporated pretty fast, but the kids were impressed.

And, of course, the kids rode around the culdesac. Since we can ride the real ATVs in water, I had a hard time convincing Levi that his ATV really shouldn't go through the hose. Difficult concept when you're two!

Levi actually took this one:

I hope he enjoyed it, because it's probably the last time he's going to get to touch my camera! I didn't even realize he had it.

Hm. Not sure what to call this one.

Writing a blog and saving it in draft doesn't do a whole lot of good if you never come back to publish it! This is from mid-May, when the kids were in school.

Jaden & Kendra had a Book Week at their elementary. As a culmination of their activities, all of the kids got to dress up as their favorite character from a book, and they held a parade around the school grounds. It was really quite cute, and the school arranged for some members of the drum corps from the high school to come and play while the kids marched.

And on the way back in...

Kendra really liked her princess dress, so she just read books until she found one with a Cinderella picture that somewhat matched. Jaden, on the other hand, knew without a doubt exactly who he wanted to dress up as.

There were quite a few parents there watching the parade. Nearly every person I talked to knew exactly who Jaden was, and a few specifically complimented his costume. It's sad, though, that out of the entire third grade, not one student recognized him. They're just not teaching the classics any more, I guess. (And if you don't recognize Calvin when you see him, well then, forty lashes with a wet noodle for you!)

Growing pains

Here I sit, awake at one o'clock in the morning, thanks to a 2-year-old who got a late nap. Oh, joy!

I used to get growing pains when I was little. Never understood exactly what was causing them, but I wished all the time that I would just stop growing so my legs would stop hurting. Now that I'm actually a grown-up, I didn't realize that I would get growing pains from my kids.

Drew is gone this weekend. Since his crossover from Cub Scouts to Boy Scouts last month, he's been very involved in his new troop; the boys have lots of different activities, and it's mostly run by the Scouts instead of leaders, so there has been a lot for him to do. He's been away camping before, but this weekend is different, and I'm not sure I like it. Jeff had gone with him to nearly all of the Cub campouts, but he isn't going on the Boy Scout outings.

Not only is he gone camping, but the trip this weekend is a drive to San Antonio (or somewhere thereabouts) to go tubing down the Guadalupe River. This is hard for me to be "cool" with for several reasons. One, he's never been that far away unless he's been with family. Two, although I have nothing but good things to say about his leaders and I have the highest faith in them, they're not me. And three, he's spending all day tomorrow on the river. In the water, without me there to watch him.

Yes, I am aware of how ridiculous that sounds. Drew is a good swimmer, he passed his Scout swimming certification, he's taking a life jacket, and I'm sure he'll be perfectly safe. I'm also sure Jeff thinks I am a paranoid nut, but then again Jeff has never lost a brother to drowning, so he doesn't understand the depths of my fear either. Trying to let go of Andrew enough to let him grow and develop as a child, an adolescent, a Scout, while still trying desperately to hold him and keep him safe, is a hard balance to strike.

But I can't let my fear paralyze him. He needs to be able to go and do this. This is such an important trip for him, a big step towards being independent and getting away from Mommy's watchful eye, that I knew I had to let him go. "He's going to be OK" has been my mantra tonight. He's only been gone for seven hours, and I have to make it through another 36 or so! I know I did the right thing in letting Drew sign up for the trip and head off with his Scout friends. As much as I think of him sometimes as my little boy, the truth is that he's not little anymore. He can almost wear my shoes, he's nearing 5 feet tall, and he'll be 11 in less than a week. I have to let him go, because that's what is best for him.

Doesn't mean it's painless, though.

The joys of orthodontia

Last month, Andrew was overjoyed to finally have his braces removed. Although he'd only had them for sixteen months, the orthodontist had originally told him his treatment would only last for nine months, so Drew was feeling quite overdue. He grinned like a maniac for a whole week once the brackets were removed.

Last week, three weeks after the removal, I took him back to the ortho office to get his retainer. I expected the old-school plastic-and-metal-wire contraption, but he returned instead with a clear plastic guard that slips over his teeth. The instructions were to wear it for 24 hours for a few weeks, then just at night. Andrew was happy that his retainer was "invisible," but the thought crossed my mind that maybe they should dye the inside neon green just so he could find it easily when it was out. Oh well, not much I can do about that... He got a sparkly blue case to keep it in, and off we went.

Fast forward to this week. He'd only had the retainer for all of four days when my mother-in-law called to ask if she could take the boys out shopping. I said yes, and Drew and Jace went off for the afternoon with Grandma. They went to Target, bought a few things, got me a Mother's Day present (!), and ate dinner at the Target Cafe. Drew had pizza.

He took out his retainer.

He set it on a napkin inside the pizza box. Can you guess what happened next?

I found him a pair of rubber gloves, and after a quick phone call to Grandma to find out which Target they'd visited, off we went so that he could rummage through garbage cans. Most of the trash wasn't too bad, napkins and pizza boxes and such, but there were plenty of things there that caused me to lose my appetite for the night and then some. I don't think I will ever be able to eat nachos again.

He did eventually find it, and after a quick scrubbing with toothpaste, it's as good as new. Thankfully, we've only got another two weeks or so until he's down to wearing it just as night.

But something tells me that while this may be my first foray into Dumpster Diving for Retainers, it won't be my last.

Girly stuff

I am not the girliest of girls. I never owned a Barbie or a Cabbage Patch doll, haven't really felt the need to wear dresses, don't wear makeup much, and stick with hairstyles that require 5 minutes or less. I am much more at home riding a four-wheeler in the mud than dressing up and wearing heels.

So when pettiskirts, the latest fashion for girls, hit the news, I thought it was quite silly. More ruffles and fluff than you can shake a stick at, and people are paying upwards of $70 for these things? Heck no. It doesn't look like you can run in them, they're not very practical for playing outside, and you sure can't ride a bike in one. I'm happy with the fact that my girls aren't afraid to get dirty; we're a fairly active family, and the kids love to ride bikes and play outside. A local moms' group put together a co-op to order pettiskirts, and I watched with slight bemusement as they oohed and aahed over each of the frilly things. I just didn't get it. I thought about ordering one just to see what magical powers it had, but really didn't want to shell out that kind of cash just to follow along with everyone else who was ordering one.

Aspen, who is as tough as any 4-year-old boy I know, has decided she's a princess. That's all she's played lately. She dresses Levi up as her prince and leads him all over the house, with a running commentary on what they're doing and what their castle life is like. After seeing a Martha Stewart show on how to make pettiskirts, she gasped and said "Those are so beeeeeyoutiful!" Of course, what mother doesn't want to make her little girl smile? My kids aren't spoiled by any stretch, but every once in a while I don't mind a splurge.....

So, last week, someone on the moms' website posted a "For Sale" message with a pettiskirt in Aspen's size. It's lavendar and aqua, not exactly my favorite color combination, but since I'm buying secondhand I couldn't be too picky. I figured if Aspen thought it was as silly as I did, I could eBay it or put it on craigslist. I sent her a message with my address, and she mailed me the skirt.

It came yesterday. Opened it up, and this thing is voluminously fluffy. Huge! I had second thoughts of "WHY did I buy this?" But a minute later, Aspen walked into the room. I think her intake of breath could be heard three rooms away! "Mama! Is that for me?" Her eyes were huge with amazement, and when I said yes she threw herself against me and said "Oh, thank you, mother! (Yes, she really talks like that.) It's the bestest thing I didn't know I wanted!"

Any doubts I had evaporated when we went outside. This is what she did for half an hour:



How did I end up with such a girly girl?

At least I'm uploading them this year, and not next...

I am making a valiant attempt to put pictures onto my Picasa site within a month of taking them. I am famous for posting pictures six months or a year after they've actually happened. So, in the interest of not getting behind, here are the most recent:

Easter pics

Lily's birthday and cake

Trip to the zoo

Most recent pics of the kids

Of course they're cute. And of course I'm not biased.

Telemarketers Who Must Die

Can I just say that I hate templates? I tried to change mine to something really cool, and every time I mess with it, things get lost. I've switched back to one that's controlled by Blogger, and it's OK, but I don't like being a sheep. I'd rather have something different.

I spent two hours yesterday getting ready to file a lawsuit against a company for their telemarketing practices. I am not a sue-happy person by nature, but I do have a strong sense of fairness. Telemarketers are governed by a federal law called the Telephone Consumer Protection Act, which is summarized here. Now, I know telemarketers aren't fun for anyone, but for the most part they are just people doing their job. There are a million pranks you can pull on them, and just as many ways to be annoying. I figure it can't be a fun job, though, so I am polite but clear when I tell them I'm not interested and ask them not to call again. Probably 99% of them are happy to comply. I'm not wasting their time, and they can get on to the next call where someone might actually buy something.

Every once in a while, though, you run across a company whose disregard for consumers' requests is so egregious and full of hubris that you feel the urge to do something about it. For the past several months, I've been contacted by a "travel company" who wants me to attend a presentation on their timeshares, and oh wow, I get a free trip to boot! My first thought was "What the heck, I can kill 90 minutes for an airline ticket." After a couple of calls, though, I became increasingly irked by the woman's sales tactics even when I'd already agreed to attend, and I canceled. I asked her to put me on the company's Do Not Call list (which they're required to maintain under the TCPA).

She called me back 40 minutes later.

And then four hours later.

And again, twenty minutes after that.

I could have chosen not to answer the phone. I'm aware of that. But dangit, this is my phone, and I should have to (A) ignore the ringing, especially when I have a chorus of "Mom, the phone!" "Aren't you going to answer it?" "Mama, da bone is winging!", (B) turn it off an miss a call that might actually be important, or (C) continually answer and repeat for the fifth time, "DO NOT call here again!"

Over the next three months, the same woman called me back another five times. She gave a different travel company name a couple of times, but it was the exact same woman and the same number on my caller ID. Depending on how much time I had, I'd either repeat my "Don't call" line, or ask to speak to a supervisor. Requests for a supervisor were either met with an argument: "Why? Why do you need a supervisor? We are just talking here. We are talking just fine."; or she'd hang up on me. Only once did I actually get the supervisor, who claimed that unless I was on the national Do Not Call registry, they did not have to remove my number. (He's wrong.)

After doing a bit of research, I found the above document summarizing a telemarketer's responsibilities under the TCPA, and decided I'd had enough. A quick search on the Texas Secretary of State's website, which costs $1 per search but is worth every penny, gave me the address of the company and the name of the president/registered agent. I also found instructions on how to sue a telemarketing company without hiring a lawyer. The "travel company," which has conveniently changed names three times, just happens to be located in the next county. The demand letter is going in the (certified) mail today, along with documentation of 9 violations of the TCPA, and I've given them a deadline of two weeks to respond.

Do I think anything will come of this? I don't know. Given that they change incorporations like most people change cell phones, it's not looking great. Am I in it for the money? No. I've reached the point where I feel someone needs to stand up to them and point out "Hey, idiots who don't listen to me and keep calling here, you're breaking the law!" If no one does anything, it's only going to get worse.

Semantics

Autism Awareness Month will be over in just under a week. The large number of avatars, ribbons, and pictures proclaiming this to the world have given me quite a bit to think about. I don't know whether I'm concerned about an underlying meaning, or if it's just semantics, but I don't know exactly where I stand on the autism terminology.

For example, it's common for parents of kids who have Asperger's Syndrome to refer to their child as an Aspie. "These are my kids, Emma, Hannah, and Jake. Jake is my Aspie." This drives me nuts, even though I've said it myself a few times when talking to other AS parents. "Aspie," to me, sounds more like a breed of dog. Picture the Westminster Kennel Club, as you hear the announcer on the television: "Coming up after the break, we'll see more from the Scotties, the Shelties, and the Aspies." Drew isn't an Aspie. He has Asperger's, but that's not what he is. Kids with AS aren't some alien species.

The you come to the question of has autism versus is autistic. I flipflop on this, but I think in general I prefer to say that he has autism. Like the Aspie thing, Drew is many things, but autism doesn't define him. It drives me nuts to know that some people who are aware of his diagnosis look at him and just see an autistic child. He is so much more than that! Drew is funny, sweet, loves to wrestle with his brother, is a great big brother who loves to take care of Lily, a Lego maniac, Lego Star Wars expert, Harry Potter fan who can read the books over and over again for hours, helpful, likes to ride his bike, prefers quad skates to inlines, and could eat his weight in pink grapefruit Jelly Bellies. And oh yeah, he has autism too. Just saying that "he's autistic" leaves out so much of his personality, and he has plenty of personality. Preconceived ideas and stereotypes about the autism spectrum make me want to throttle someone. You know the saying, "If you've seen one, you've seen them all?" With ASD, if you've seen one...you've seen one. No two are alike. They are people, little kids, and the people who look at him and see a label are missing out on a great kid.

Last but not least, there's the whole puzzle piece thing. It's not a bad thing; it's kind of nice to have a symbol, a logo, that instantly identifies someone else who parents, or is affected by, an ASD child. On the other hand, my favorite shirt on Cafe Press is this one. Puzzle pieces are great and all that, but like the label, the symbol can obscure the real kids behind it. Drew doesn't need a cure, but he does need people to be aware of how he is different as well as how he's the same as any other ten-year-old boy. There's no puzzle to be solved, no miracle cure waiting around the corner.

I'm not going to touch the vaccine-autism thing with a ten-foot pole. I do have opinions, but Pandora's box will stay shut for now.

It's amazing to me that the more I read about Asperger's and autism, the more I learn, and the more I learn about Andrew, the more I realize I still have to learn.

Is it over yet?

I am pretty sick of the presidential campaign, as I'm sure many people are. I'm not a die-hard Republican, but I do tend to vote GOP in many elections. This year presents a real dilemma for me. I am sooooo not a McCain supporter; his temper, his flip-flopping, and his insincerity drive me nuts. I think it would be safe to say that I detest him.

The Democrats, on the other hand, aren't offering me much to crow about either. I thought about supporting Obama, because he's not your run-of-the-mill politician, and I like the idea of change. After reading more into his ideals and where he stands on the issues, though, he couldn't be further from where I'm at. I can't in good conscience support him for president. He's far too liberal for me, and I'm not all that thrilled with his wife either. Granted, she's not running for president, but a person's taste in choosing a spouse says a lot about them.

That brings us to Hillary. I honestly don't know what I think about her. I couldn't stand her at first, but I'm softening a little bit, if only because I think she might be the lesser of two evils. I don't loathe her any more, at least. There are so many Republicans who do, however, that if she ends up being the Dems' nominee, it may be enough to ensure a McCain victory.

So what's a conservative, undecided voter to do? At this point I have no idea. I may just visit the polls this November and waste my vote with a written-in "Romney for President."