Category Archives: owls

August 16, 2012 · 11:10 am

Why I Do This

I write about all facets of motherhood on this blog, but it’s true (alert the media!) that I have a five-year-old child with sensory processing disorder.  He also has green eyes, a big smile, and a wicked sense of humor, he’s beyond bright, he gives great hugs, he loves to spell, he loves math (which just about kills me on a daily basis), he’s a great swimmer, and he’s compassionate way beyond his years.  In my spare time, I’m also the mother of a smart, stubborn, and squishy three-year-old boy who has the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen and a nasty addiction to strawberry Kefir.  Where my older son has sensory issues, my three-year-old has peeing-on-the-floor-next-to-the-toilet issues.  (They all have something.)  Mostly, I’m the mother of two young kids who challenge me physically, psychologically, and emotionally on a daily basis.  Just like you.

I write this blog for a lot of reasons.  Selfishly, it’s for me.  It feels so bleeping good to get this stuff off my chest.  A little bit less selfishly, it’s for my boys.  I hope one day they have the clarity to see me not just as Mommy, but also as Jennifer or Jen or Jenny.  (Oh, and not to hate me.)  I also write it for you.  I try hard to give my children (and my husband, occasionally) the respect they need to go about their business with some sense of privacy, but I also know that what I’ve gone through – and what I will go through – isn’t unique to me.  It’s merely a bi-product of deciding to grow a human being inside your belly (or securing one from another lovely location) and committing to affording to send them to preschool.  It’s in the sharing of the experience – no matter how serious, sad, or just plain funny it is – that a sense of community is born and the precious gift of not being alone is realized.

I’ve just begun guest blogging on a new site called Voices of Sensory Processing Disorder.  You can read my first guest post, “Making and Breaking the Rules,”  here.  Without a doubt, I feel grateful on a daily basis that my kids have ten fingers and ten toes, no heart defects, no tumors, no intellectual disabilities, or fill in the blank.  But I do have a child with challenges that affect not only his daily functioning, but also the rest of our family’s.  It’s my honor to share my obsession with owls, my love of shopping, my persistent paranoia about my health, my dislike of cleaning pee on the floor next to the toilet, and the problems I’m determined to see through with my kids, my husband, and myself.

Here are some recent posts from this blog and some oldie-but-goodies you may have missed (tisk tisk).

  • As of this morning, I have 24 more pencils to sharpen.  Read “Hard” here.
  • How do you find comfort?  Me, I love falling asleep on the couch.  Read “Couch (or Blame) (or Hands)” here.
  • Mama math is excellent brain exercise.  Read “Word Problems VIII (The Back to School Edition)” here.
  • Are there little people sleeping in your bed…uninvited?  Read “Transform(er)ation” here.
  • Been to a public bathroom with your kids lately and wish you could have your memory erased like in “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”?  Read “Public Bathroom Manifesto” here.
  • Considering an uber hip postnuptial agreement?  Read “Testimony” here.

As always, thanks for reading…and sharing!

Questions, comments, concerns, recipe ideas, restaurant suggestions, book deals, or ideas on how to get my kids to brush their teeth twice a day?  Contact me at therunawaymama(at)gmail(dot)com.

Leave a comment

Filed under health, owls, sensory processing disorder, shopping

August 13, 2012 · 10:05 am

Hard

This is week is going to be hard.  Starting tomorrow, there’s going to be a therapist in my house every evening at 5:00 p.m. to train Dylan to eat.  Now that I’m done crying about it, I’ve started to think about what it’s going to be like to have a semi-permanent dinner guest.   I’m going to have to keep the house clean, and I should probably try a little harder to put the laundry away instead of leaving it folded on the dining room table until it eventually disappears from use.  I’ll have to go through the mail on a more regular basis, too (sigh), and I’ll need to make sure the left side of the sink is clear of dirty, smelly dishes.  Most importantly, I’ve been wondering if it would be awkward to pour myself a glass of wine like I normally do around 5:00 p.m. each day.  (At least I’ve found my sense of humor.  Grateful Mama!)

But food therapy isn’t the only hard thing I have to do this week.  On Tuesday, I have to take Riley to the lab for blood work.  From a teeny-tiny vein in his teeny-tiny arm.  (We’re testing for allergies.  I’ll share more on this when I have more to report and more energy to report it.)  I’m counting on him to be a good patient like he usually is, but I’m also preparing for other less desirable scenarios.  (For a long time, I had one singular rule of parenting: Expect the unexpected.  I added a second rule after Dylan started sleeping with a portable DVD player in his bed: Never say never.)

As food training and blood work aren’t going to be hard enough, I also have to sharpen 48 pencils by 9:00 a.m. on Friday morning.

Note to self:

Sharpen these guys (or gals):

This no easy task when your pencil sharpener looks like this.

Oh stop.  Thank you.  [Cue blushing.]  Yes, you’re absolutely right.  This is the coolest pencil sharpener on the planet.  I really don’t like to brag.  It’s so hard to take a compliment.  But, well, thank you.

Yes, it’s a pencil sharpener.  I swear.  It requires no electricity, batteries, or apps.  All that’s needed is strength, sweat, and time.  It’s a Boston Champion manual pencil sharpener.  I doubt this antique is worth much money (although you can buy one on eBay for as much as $69.99!), but for me it’s personal.  Sorry to burst your bubble, my friends, but there’s no Runaway Mama giveaway here.  This Boston Champion is not for sale.  Not now, not ever.  I love it!  And here’s why:

  • My dad gave it to me.
  • It says “Boston” on the side and that’s wicked awesome.
  • It vaguely resembles a mini meat grinder.  Or a really clever spaghetti maker.  Or an owl.  (Okay, maybe not an owl.)
  • It’s manual!  Remember when we had to roll up and down windows in the car with a handle?  (I’m old.)
  • It makes my arm sore.  (I’ll take any exercise I can get these days.)
  • Dylan and Riley marvel at it.  They rarely see a piece of equipment in our house that isn’t a touch screen vessel for watching “Transformers Prime” on Netflix, and that’s exactly why they love it.  It’s a novelty and it’s mine, which makes it priceless to them, like my ill-fated heart-shaped crystal paperweight.

Per Dylan’s Kindergarten supply list, I not only had to buy 48 #2 pencils (and 12 glue sticks, six-eight pink erasers, two eight-count packs of Crayola markers, four 24-count packs of Crayola crayons, and I won’t bore you with the rest), but I’m also responsible for sharpening them.  With the Boston Champion.  It’s a lengthy process that requires motivation, drive, and some serious fine motor skills as dramatized in still photography here.

Squeeze.

Insert.

Secure.

Sharpen! (Keep going!  You can do it!  Hang in there!  Don’t give up!  You only have to do this 47 more times!  You’re a rock star!)

Extract.

And voila:

What did you say?  Office Depot is having an electric pencil sharpener sale?  There’s tax-free back to school shopping this week?  You have an electric sharpener I can borrow?  Thanks, but no thanks.   I’m all set.  Between Dylan’s dinners, Riley’s blood work, and the sharpening of the pencils, it’s going to be rough week, but it’s also going to be a labor of love.

Do you have a hard week ahead?

Leave a comment

Filed under food issues, Grateful Mama, owls, school, sensory processing disorder