Back to School

Well, its that time of year again where kids everywhere flock back to school. The clothes are purchased, the school supplies are bountiful and the nervous excitement comes over them as they begin to bring wrap their minds around another year of school. “What will my teachers be like? Will I be in classes with my friends? What pretty girl or good looking boy will I meet?” For my son Noah, its just a little different than that. He will be entering a new school district where he doesn’t know any of the kids. The apprehension was running high for him over the last few days because of a mix up in where he thought he would be attending. We live in the village of Los Lunas, and just assumed that he would be attending the Los Lunas Middle School, so my husband took him down to register him there. Noah was very impressed with the school and was truly excited and looking forward to going there. Then bad news struck from across the street. We live across the street from a retired sheriff who actually works at the school Noah should have been signed up for. My neighbor started talking about the school and filling Noah in on the kinds of kids that attend, but Noah had his heart set on going to the other middle school. Nothing would snap him out of the bad news. He had visions of some back woods school where guns and knives were the norm I think. Yesterday I had to take him to the “other” middle school and he was dreading it the whole drive. I found the address of the school, and that is where the odyssey of actually reaching the destination began! Google driving directions let me down big time as drove in circles around the same area thinking that I must have left out a street or something like that. We were driving for well over an hour, asking random people if they knew where the school was…to no avail. We called the school for directions, yet the directions they gave were not helpful at all, especially since all the major street signs out on the mesa were non-existent. Driving down long stretches of road in the desert, turning around and going in another direction was just making me nuts! Finally we pull into an elementary school and decide to ask there for directions. Did we get proper directions from this elementary school? NO! Finally a parent in the school was able to give us the actual directions. The middle school wasn’t close like others had said…nope, it was more than six miles away in a direction that we would have never gone.

We got to the school, and I was impressed with the school staff, the building and also what they had to offer Noah in terms of being in the gifted and talented program. I truly think that he had visions of being in some hot trailer out on the mesa somewhere near a shanty town of some sort. Not true. It was a very nice school.

As I write this, Noah is busy getting ready to go. Today will be an “off day” for him and many other new students who will be sitting in the guidance counselor’s office awaiting their schedule. Noah’s biggest fear was being in classes that don’t challenge him since he is an advanced student, excelling in every class he takes. The guidance counselor was able to relieve those fears when she told him that she would place him in pre-AP courses. I know that he felt better about that.

I’ll miss having him here during the day! He is such a great kid. While many parents celebrate the first day of school because their kids drove them crazy all summer, I’ll be singing a dirge.

*just a little side note…

In the pictures I posted of Noah, you can see all the big ass green tumble weeds. He and my husband have been busy removing all of them. Tumble weeds set seed with their prickly seed getting into everything. As those seeds fall to the ground, we pick them up on the bottom of our shoes and actually end up tracking them into the house! If you’ve never had one of these things stuck in your foot, I can liken it to stepping on a sharp tack! The secret is to remove them before they set seed, and hopefully each year the amount of tumble weeds decrease.

A Shift in My Thought Life

The following entry is from our new blog site “The High Desert Chronicles.”

Our family has dreams of starting a homestead…that much is clear, but where? Where do we settle down? We found some land out in the Parajito Mesa and we just fell in love with it. There’s a catch though. The property is landlocked! When we called the realtor back to tell her we were interested, she told me this:

“You can purchase the land, but you can’t live on it legally.” Huh? “Why?” I asked. She stated that the Parajito Mesa is a part of a land scam from many years ago, and the developer never mapped out the plots of land correctly or put in the necessary roads. Basically all of the Parajito land is private, and in order for us to purchase a plot of land, we would need to create access. But from where? There are no legal easements and no legal street address. We would have to plow a road right through someone’s property to access ours. Obviously that isn’t a great idea, nor is it good for having a decent relationship with our neighbors.

The Parajito Mesa is home to about 400 families. As I did some research on it, what I found was heartbreaking. It made me actually want to move there despite the fact that it is illegal. Would we put our family at risk by doing that? Nope. So I had to think of a different way. If we were to live out there, we wouldn’t be able to get mail, be able give a legal change of address, update information on drivers license or other important documents and my grand daughter wouldn’t be able to get her much needed Medicaid. So why do I want to be out there so bad? For me, it has to do with three things I see…the disenfranchised, social justice and environmental justice. These three things are huge, and as time goes by, dreams can become diminished and finally replaced with despair. Does it have to be that way though? It seems as though they are forgotten and left out there to just exist or die. I’m unsure why the burden in my heart is so heavy for these families, but it is there none the less. I guess my thought is that the people on Parajito Mesa have an opportunity to make their own homesteads if they wanted. I believe that any family that is willing to make their lives better should have access to the tools and knowledge that would make that life an actual reality.

What can we do? How can we help? I believe that if we were to purchase a house with some land near the Parajito Mesa, we could begin to open up our home to those who would seek something more for their families. As we build our homestead in that region, others who are interested could come along side of us, learning the principles of water harvesting, earthworks and permaculture and bring that back to their own land and begin incorporating those techniques and principles. I don’t have any visions of grandeur, just a simple desire to help those who want help.

Most of the families out there are on ten acres of land each. How much food can grow on ten acres? I say that rhetorically, because even an 1/8 of an acre can be intensely gardened to produce thousands of pounds of food per year. They each have way more than an 1/8 of an acre which makes it possible to grow many different kinds of fruit trees, acres to grow grains, agave, and so many other types of fruits and veggies. Is the lack of water the problem? If they are conventional farmers, yes. But I believe if they begin to understand how earthworks and water harvesting principles work, they will be able to actually cultivate their land, build their soil and create something absolutely stunning. They are worth it, don’t you think?

If there are any permaculturalists in the area looking for a worthy cause to donate your time and talent, you can contact me by filling out the form on my Contact page. I would love to hear from you.

Here is a video I found on youtube about the Parajito Mesa:

The Long Recovery Road

I’m starting to feel like my “old self” again instead of just feeling old! Since the end of October and into November 09′ I started to feel really run down. I was forgetting things easier, my mind was clouded and I could only do one thing mentally at a time. Being a multi-tasker online, I found it increasingly difficult to have more than one tab open and I would start to get flustered really easily. My heart would race in anxiety and depression soon set in. This was no ordinary depression where I would feel down on myself…no, this was an all out emotional assault inwardly. I would look in the mirror and see this old and very very bloated woman, “Who are you?” I would say to myself. Things got increasingly worse as I would feel my lungs crackle and holler. The looming fear was that I would get pneumonia again. Having almost lost my life to pneumonia more than once, my husband would lay anxious at night hearing my lungs from his side of the bed. Thoughts of me in intensive care, hooked up to a bi-pap machine and tubes coming out of me caused fear to set in. We only needed to wait a few more weeks until our insurance kicked in and I could get my five year pneumonia shot (I was due!) and onto the proper medication and steriods.  I was holding up ok, dealing with the crackling lungs and wheezing day and night when on Christmas Eve I took a turn for the worse. I could no longer stand up, I was weak and dizzy and my cough was getting worse. I pretty much ruined Christmas for everyone as I laid in bed through most of that following week. I got into urgent care where a one armed doctor refused to do a chest film and just prescribed Advair, Prednisone and Abuterol. My insurance had just kicked in and we were able to fill the prescriptions. I told him that I needed a pneumonia shot and antibiotics since I do know what pneumonia is like, but he wouldn’t prescribe it.

Not getting any better on the steriods, I saw my primary physician and he listened to my lungs. “Yup, you have pneumonia” he said, and he prescribed me the proper antibiotics as well as more Advair and also Singulair. During that time he also ran some blood work on me, and my thyroid came back low.

Since then, the antibiotics have done there job, and the medication I’m on for hypothyroid is really helping to get me back on track. I don’t feel like an old woman any more, and I feel my brain starting to function as it used to. I’m a little more sharp, a little more sassy and I look forward to the day when everything goes back to normal for me. I know recovering from pneumonia takes a while, but so does having a hypothyroid. I’m taking it day by day and moment by moment. The best part of it all is that the depression is totally gone. I beat myself up for a while there wondering why I couldn’t snap out of the funk I was in. I was never the type of person to become depressed or beat myself up emotionally. I’m glad those chains have been broken, and that the little butterfly gland known as my thyroid is starting to get the help it needs!

Bald Beauty of the Day

Happy Holidays

I thought I might amuse you all this holiday season with a few other JibJab creations…ENJOY!

Oh, and one more because I LOVE Weird AL!

Have a very safe and awesome Holiday!

Unprepared and Full of Regret

On Friday December 18th, I needed to take my son to the doctor to get a sports physical. Whenever I have to take Simmi out to the store or anywhere else, that nagging fear of what is lurking on the floor or in some seat cushion is always plaguing me. I’ve learned to live with this fear for well over a year and at times I’ve been criticized or looked at weird when I explain that Simmi’s severe food allergies keeps us from attending some event, playgroup or even the thought of attending preschool in August 2010. Going out of the house is a major anxiety event for me each time I pick Simmi up to put her into the car. Questions always enter my mind “Who sat in this shopping cart before her? What was that kid eating? What was on his or her hands that they may have transferred onto the surface Simone touches?” If I go to a doctor’s appointment for her, on the way I’m wondering about the mother who lovingly brought along a snack for her toddler consisting of Honey Nut Cheerios, cheddar cheese Gold Fish, poptarts or anything else that is convenient and will keep a little one satisfied and happy. It seems so unnecessary to have those things swimming around in my mind, but I can’t help it. I worry about these things constantly, always being on guard for that stray peanut or other product that could harm or even kill Simone.

When we go out there is always a set of eyes on Simmi. Whether it is me, Dom or one of my kids, someone is always watching. We arrived at my son’s appointment and Simmi was running around being her cute self. My son Noah was faithfully keeping an eye on her as I filled out the paperwork for his visit. I was unprepared for the events that transpired shortly before Noah went in to the examining room. You see, I let my guard down. Whenever we enter a store or anywhere unfamiliar, I always scan the place with my eyes looking for that “thing” that could cause Simmi harm or death. I didn’t scan the doctor’s office. We walked into that office, I got the paperwork and just started writing. If it wasn’t for Noah’s loving attention to detail, our situation may be quite different. Neither Noah nor myself noticed that there was a vending machine located in the corner of the waiting room. It was the kind that dispenses candy when you put in a quarter, you turn the lever and grab the candy by the handful. This thing was filled with three different types of candy, one of which was Peanut M&M’s. Simone had wandered over to that machine which had a few M&M’s sitting in the tray just begging to be picked up and tasted! Who was she to argue with the small roundish brightly colored object? She’s never even seen a Peanut M&M before. Noah had turned around for just a second to look my way and when he turned back to watch Simmi, he noticed that she had something brightly colored in her hand AND she was just about to put it in her mouth. He ran across the room as fast as he could and his quick movements caused me to look up to see what was going on. I looked on in horror as he removed the peanut M&M from her hand and threw it in the garbage. At that point I quickly got up and started to walk across the waiting room…but this little toddler of mine was quick! Before I even got to her, she spotted another M&M on the floor and picked that one up too! I was in panic mode. Both times she picked up the candy with her left hand, so I grabbed her and held on to her left hand so she wouldn’t touch any part of her body or put her hand in her mouth. Now the receptionists were staring at us trying to make heads or tails of the events unfolding before their eyes. I rattled off to them all her food allergies and asked for the bathroom so I could wash her hands, but when I got into the bathroom, there was a pump container filled with liquid soap. Still holding her and now also trying to read the ingredients on the back of the soap container, one word stood out in the ingredients “Cocamidopropyl betaine” which comes from Coconut oil. Normally we wouldn’t be concerned with this product since she used to eat quite a bit of coconut oil, but after she had a violent reaction to coconut oil last weekend and because she is now highly allergic to tree nuts, I could not expose her to the soap! All of this was happening so fast that I wonder how I was even able to think properly. I quickly came out of the bathroom and asked Noah to get her wipes out of the diaper bag. I must have used five wipes just on her one hand. Was I over reacting? I had regret racing through my heart, and I was inwardly chastising myself for ever letting down my guard. I wiped off her hands…and mind you, this is all taking place in a matter of three minutes (it felt like an hour!) and all the sudden out comes the welts. She starts scratching her left hand and now she has a bright red rash traveling up her hand and arm. I alert the receptionist that I need Benadryl and I’m kicking myself in the pants now for NOT putting it in her diaper bag the one time we needed it most! Does the receptionist bring me benadryl? NOPE, she brings me cortisone because they don’t have any Benadryl available. I could have gotten mad at her, after all it is a doctor’s office…but I was super angry at myself for not taking the proper precautions in the first place. All I could do was hope that it was just a rash that she would get and stay armed with Epi-pen in hand. The rash traveled up her arm and before the end of ten minutes she was covered from head to toe in a raised red rash. All I could do was look at her like she was a bizarre science experiment. I felt helpless and so unbelievably guilty. We left the doctor’s office, I drove Noah to school and when we got home Simmi ran straight for her room saying “ba ba” “ba ba”. I tried to give her Benadryl but of course she is totally freaking out and screaming if I try to get it into her. It spills all over the place with only a very small amount actually swallowed. She fell asleep in less than five minutes and I sat in the dining room with the monitor turned up as high as it would go just so I could listen to her breathing. Simmi was so exhausted she slept from 11:30am to 4:30pm. I sat with the “shouda, coulda, woulda’s” running through my head.

After she awoke from her long nap, I went in to examine her body and the rash was still there, but so where a few other things that I haven’t seen since she had a severe reaction last year…purple little spots on her chest which happens when she has a severe allergic reaction. She’s OK now, but all that day and into the night Dom and I sat there staring at each other, reminded of just how serious her allergies are. We started going over action plans again, discussing the new things that can’t be brought into the house like Duralogs for the fireplace (they contain nut shells), or real pine wood because of her allergy to pine. It feels like our world is closing in around us as we must continue to do things that will safe guard her well being. Our home has now become completely food allergen free as well. We do not bring anything into the house that contains peanuts (that was always a rule), wheat, milk, soy, eggs or tree nuts. At her allergy appointment when we got the results back from her RAST, we realized that there is a good possibility that even cooking foods that contain the things she is allergic to, could be breathed in by her and caused her levels to increase to an alarmingly high level.

With her speech and vision problems complicating things more, we are hopeful that in time she will be able to communicate with us and let us know when she is starting to feel some sort of reaction coming. All I can do at this point is learn from that experience and always stay on guard and alert without making her feel like the world is a dangerous and unsafe place to live in.

Here are some photos I took of her after her first rash from our dog. Three days after those photos were taken, the outer skin on her nipples started to fall off:

What Does it Take to Make Things Better

What lengths would you go to make your child’s life more comfortable? How about a child with a wide range of problems? Not just one thing like a food allergy or multiple food allergies, but walking problems, developmental issues, their speech is missing or even the ability to tell us simply what she needs, and now on top of that discovering vision problems? How far do you adjust your life and home to help that child learn and function as normal as possible?

Sometimes I am so completely drained I feel empty inside. Dom and I are worked to the bone trying to trouble shoot and make things more suitable here, but it just seems like an endless cycle of “lets add one more problem to the laundry list of issues we already deal with concerning Simmi.” Just as we’re adjusting and finding creative ways around the food issue, and finally getting the floors down in the house, up pops a problem that may be a link to some of the developmental problems she has been having. We’re detectives trying to find the missing puzzle piece of Simmi’s developmental delays. Knowing that she already has this long list of problems, we are wondering if vision problems are contributing to more of her issues. Is it possible?

She has low muscle tone and has had this for a long time. The physical therapist attributes her walking problems with having low muscle tone and Simmi is trying to compensate for this problem by developing a new gait. She also feels that it is the contributing factor of not wanting to get up and walk around or run. But how about when she goes outside and refuses to walk? Is that low muscle tone or is it her vision? These are the types of questions swimming around in our brains constantly. If we go out during the day and it’s very sunny out, she becomes agitated, upset and sometimes gets scared or wants to be held. Why? We know from experience that she does better in low light settings and she is wonderful in the evening hours…calm, peaceful and amiable. During the day, its a different story! As long as the house isn’t flooded with lots of light she does pretty well, but she is often irritable and at times even irrational. She doesn’t really nap anymore during the day which is making things even more hectic. She gets up during the night more than ever as well. So, if bright sunlight is somehow blocking her ability to see, how do we remedy the situation? Blinds and curtains work wonders, and controlling the light that is in the house seems to help as well. But is that enough? What if the light and her vision is preventing her from learning? What if her central vision doesn’t work properly and that’s why she tends to look out of the corner of her eyes? She cocks her head in weird positions, not all the time but enough to see that there is something more to all of this. I have been doing some research here and there when we have a moment, to find out more about Cortical Visual Impairment (CVI) and one thing that I have found is that it is possible for children to regain more of their sight with the proper therapies. How much therapy does this child need? Yes, we can have a therapist here every day of the week for different things, but the therapy should continue even after the therapist leaves. This is where we take over. I need to take the lead with all of this, because the therapists in their field of work come for one hour per week each. Discovering this new problem with her vision helps us to focus in on techniques and approaches that will be more suitable to her therapy. At first glance, when a therapist is here, we might think that she has a VERY limited attention span. Is it her attention that is the problem, or is it the fact that she may not see very clearly what is being presented to her? She responds much better to bright bold colors, moving objects and shiny things. These are the types of things that will need to be incorporated into her therapy and into everyday life. But what does that mean for us as a family? There is no way I’m putting a disco ball up in the dining room, or streamers all over the house that glimmer and shine! There needs to be a “tasteful” way of incorporating shiny objects and special lighting into our home and the house look NORMAL! I’m learning about the properties and principles of multi-sensory therapy and taking those principles and looking for a functional design for our house.

In Simmi’s room we purchased some very cheap shiny stars to hang from her ceiling. What we discovered is that if objects and things seem effortless for her to focus on, she becomes less fatigued. The hanging stars in her room provide movement when there is air flow in the room through the central air/heating system, and when we carry her into her room to put her to bed or take her out of bed, it provides an opportunity to develop her eye-hand coordination because she always wants to touch them or hit them to make them swing or move. The more effortless it is for her to focus and see, (in my opinion) the more it strengthens her vision. It’s such a simple thing and yet she consistently is interested in reaching out for them and with that beautiful wonderment that children seem to have, says “WOW!” every time she enters the room…without fail.

Having a child with undiagnosed problems can be difficult. But it doesn’t have to be. We know our children better than any doctor or therapist, understanding what works and what doesn’t, and its important that we realize that their development is in our hands….not the doctor or therapists. A diagnosis would be nice for her, but what then? She doesn’t have any major organs affected that need to be assisted with the use of medication, so all I can do is trouble shoot and find the right combinations of things that can work for her. Getting to that point is the hard part. It means constantly watching and evaluating her. Its almost a clinical approach to parenting, yet maintaining the close relationship and trust that it takes to move her to the next level in her development. It means never giving up hope and always striving for the very best we can offer her.

We noticed that she looks uninterested in learning things, but is she uninterested or trying to get a better glimpse of what we are showing her by turning her head to the side? She seems to look away, but is she looking away or looking peripherally? She picks up things without looking at them, or is she just looking out of the corner of her eyes this whole time and we never noticed? Yesterday as we were walking out of my room, she walked full force into the molding on our door. She didn’t fall into the door jam, she just walked, thinking that she had clearance. She seems to have a high tolerance for pain, because she didn’t cry afterwards…she just sat on the floor and started to crawl instead. The worst part of all this is that it happens when you least expect it. Not realizing or even noticing these issues in the past makes me wonder if the reason she gets so confused is because she actually can’t see something. She’ll put her hand out and grunt for something, we’ll take her over to that object so she can have it and she will say no and get upset. Is she confused about what she wants? It seems like she can’t make up her mind! It can be very frustrating for us, but I now wonder if her reaching out and grunting is her way of saying “I can’t see this or that.”

We will be creating a Snoezelen room for her in her bedroom. Here is a picture of what we are aiming for when designing her room:

While Snoezelen rooms and equipment are extremely expensive, we can create a room like this with a little creativity. Did you notice the disco ball? Remember earlier I mentioned NOT having a disco ball in our dining room? Simmi is very attracted to arrays of light, prisms, movement, smell and sound, so to incorporate these types of things into the rest of our home (without making every room look like a Snoezelen room) we have decided to go with crystal chandeliers, mirrors and things that draw her eye to where we want her to go at different times during the day. It becomes a way of helping her focus and concentrate effortlessly.

Our bedroom, the dining room and living room are other areas that she is in often. I do deep pressure massages on her after her bath time and that happens on our bed. We have designed our room (although it is in the planning stages right now) to include a crystal chandelier over the bed, lots of mirrors, textures and patterns throughout. How do you have crystal prisms on nightstands and dressers, crystal lamps and vases, flowers and pictures WITHOUT a toddler grabbing them and braking them, potentially hurting themselves? In my design world, I will be mounting these objects to old furniture. The textiles I’ll be using are cut work velvets, silks and satins and furs, providing an endless source of things to touch and experience. Mounting objects to the furniture allows for her to touch the object without possible damage and it becomes the focal point that draws her eye to what ever object I want her to touch or experience in that moment. The design I came up with for our bedroom is not my style at all! Dom and I had planned for a very streamlined more modern and clean look, very minimalistic. That plan went right out the door one morning after discovering that Simmi has vision problems. I realized I was going to have to go for an elegant shabby chic. I put my foot down though when it comes to lots of flower patterns! Not just that, but keeping things simple in terms of patterns is important for Simmi. I’m being stretched and pulled out of the comfort of my design world and into something that in the end will look absolutely beautiful, but totally not my style. The picture on the right is similar to a look I’ll be aiming for. Much more texture, but the intention is to include shiny objects coupled with lots of white. She does well with white in low lighting because it doesn’t fatigue her…everything kind of blends allowing for a more relaxed experience. Our room already has mirrored bi-fold closet doors, which at first we were going to get rid of, but now see the value of having them. Playing with the mirrored concept and use of crystal prisms can actually bring a large amount of sophistication to our room and at the same time be a constant source of therapy for Simmi.

So what can I say? How far do I go to make her life and ours more pleasant and relaxed? Is it worth the effort? Absolutely! I’m tired of waiting for that next opportunity with a therapist, or needing to bring out the objects for her to utilize. I want her to be strengthened each day effortlessly so we can get to the real business at hand…being normal.

How much does it cost to do all this stuff? A lot and nothing at all. If I were to purchase everything new, there would be no way I could afford it all. We have already collected a few items for free off of Freecycle, and I’m always amazed at what some people just get rid of. Usually it doesn’t fit their decor anymore, or its something that was passed down that has been just sitting in their garage. I can actually make the mirrored night stands if I want that look, and as far as bedding goes, I plan on creating my own with Dupioni silks, taffeta, velvets and other textiles. Where will I get these types of fabrics? On sale at Joann fabric or if someone happens to be giving away an old wedding gown. I’ve been on the look out for lots of wedding gowns. When no money is available, everything takes time to acquire. Some times things come in quickly, and at other times it seems like eternity waiting for that special little object. We already have an antique chandelier that someone was getting rid of, and I’m in the process of restoring it to its former beauty so we can hang it as soon as our bedroom is painted.

For anyone willing to go the extra million miles to make their child’s life better (and ours too), I highly recommend trouble shooting how your child responds to their environment. Is the child agitated during the day or evening? Does it make life almost unbearable because you can’t figure out what the hell is wrong with them and you are pulling your hair out because you’ve tried everything? Experiment! Try turning the lights down, or making it brighter. See if background noise like the refrigerator or washing machine aggravates the situation. There is background noise that we become used to but to a child with sensory problems, that sound may drive them crazy and they don’t even realize it. How about if more than one person is talking in a room? Does it drive them bananas and make them lash out? If the light or even background noise is too much for Simmi she begins to take a swipe at us. She will hit and kick, start pulling at her hair and maybe even just start screaming. The hair pulling we have been dealing with for a long time, and we knew it seemed to come in cycles, but now we notice that light and sound have something to do with her hair pulling. Its amazing when we’re willing to watch intently, we see a host of very fixable problems that can help her be more at ease. Being at ease means being more receptive to learning. I’m even considering wearing bright red lipstick during the day if it will help her focus on my mouth when I speak. Children learn to form words by watching others speak, but what happens if they don’t see your mouth clearly or how you form your words? How do they learn? I’m not a lipstick girl, but I’m willing to try it!

It has been quite the adventure, taxing for sure, but well worth the effort. Yesterday we had an Occupational therapist and Simmi’s service coordinator here, and I was thrilled that this particular OT will be helping in creating a plan for Simmi’s sensory issues. At one point during the session, as we were discussing Simmi’s vision, Simmi was able to comprehend what we were talking about and actually put her two cents in concerning her vision. I got a little teary eyed when I saw Simmi standing in front of her service coordinator and while covering one eye, kept looking at him and saying “see, see” and pointing. Then she would cover the other eye and say “see, see”. She understood what we were talking about and was babbling on about something concerning seeing. It was clear as crystal that she was explaining something, and she was so happy that we were catching on. At least that is how I interpret yesterday’s events. The language barrier is still there, but I feel she had her own personal break through yesterday. She understands far more than she can indicate and I am excited to give her the proper tools to make her world more vibrant, clear and comfortable.

My Shoshannah Turned 14 Today!

Ahhh, once again its time to honor another child-o-mine. On the left is my soft, sweet smelling little girl flippin the bird in the hospital. Today is all about Shoshanna Danae! We all call her Shoshie for short, but from the time she was three years old, she decided that her name wasn’t Shoshannah…instead she called herself Gerty. I’m not sure where she heard the name, and the only Gerty I can recall is Drew Barrymore’s character in E.T. Shoshie never saw E.T. when she was little so we just don’t know how she came to be so fond of that name.

The first time I heard her call herself Gerty was in a church. I think we were going in to vote or something like that, and a bunch of very old ladies were sitting there asking Shoshie her name. Now, Shoshie was a thumb sucker, hard core, and the only time she took that thing out of her mouth was to say a few words and back in went the thumb. So the ladies say “Awww, what’s your name?” Shoshie takes her thumb out of her mouth for a second and says “Gerty,” and it stuck. She just loved that name. When she was around 10 years old, she got a turtle from her dad and guess what she named the turtle? Yup…Gerty.

Shoshie was my little shadow. She was extremely easy to care for, adorable, compact and we could take her anywhere with no fuss. She was content with her blankie and her thumb in her mouth and that was all she wanted or needed. When she was an infant we could hand her off to anyone and she was happy as a clam to be held and cuddled. She would just coo and ahh and constantly stick her little tongue out, but by the time she was about 9 months old her social and happy disposition with others was quickly replaced by terror. It seemed as if in a single moment she went from “happy-go-lucky” to horrified if anyone so much as looked at her. She would hold onto us tight and turn her head so she couldn’t look into other peoples’ eyes. Once she warmed up though, she was fine. From that point on, being social was completely on her own terms. As I said just a short while earlier, she was my little shadow. No matter where I would go in the house, I could always count on Shoshie to be right behind me or at my side. She wouldn’t say a peep…she’d just follow me around and silently try to assist me in whatever I was doing. I could take her shopping with me, talk on the phone, take care of anything I was working on and there she was just happy to sit next to me. Of course it wasn’t every second of every day, because she had her “partner in crime” Noah to do things with. I remember this one time I had to go to Costco for some things, Shoshie couldn’t have been more than three years old at the time, and while we were standing at the checkout line, a man in the next row over taps me on the shoulder and says “I think you should turn around.” I turned around and there was Shoshie with all her clothes off, just standing there with her thumb in her mouth. It was the cutest thing ever! But that is how she was and still is. (well, not the stripping down part) She just has a strong and silent way about her, and when she has made up her mind to do something after much thought, she just does it.

Shoshie is extremely kind, loving and caring. She is a musician and plays the cello, can fool around on the guitar, is great with percussion and loves to sing. She’s a girlie-girl too. Loyalty comes to mind when I think of her. I’m very proud of who she is becoming. This past spring while she was away to visit her dad, she made the decision  to live with him and his fiance. I have always felt that my children should be able to choose where they would like to live, but even after conveying that message to them, she still had a hard time telling me that she wanted to live with them. Regardless of my own personal feelings about her being so far away from me, I want her to know that I respect her and admire her for stepping out and choosing something for herself. The most difficult thing about not having her here anymore is that I will miss her presence. She has such a uniquely gorgeous soul. I loved our talks and asking strange and obscure questions just to get her to think. I love when she would ask me questions about “girl things” and how fascinated she was by “the way things are.” Of course I’m being cryptic, but what did you expect? I can tell the whole world what it is that Shoshie and I talk about. She is a beautiful jewel…a treasure!

My Shoshie Girl,

I can’t believe you are 14 years old now! I remember when you and Noah would sit in the back of the mini van and you would look at Noah and say “PIMP!” and he would just kackle and laugh. You would put your thumb in your mouth, pull it out and say “PIMP!” and he would laugh even harder. I don’t know where you heard that word, but you both thought it was the funniest thing on earth. I remember when we would ask you “When are you going to stop sucking your thumb?” and you would say “On Tuesday” in that sweet soft voice of yours. I have so many beautiful memories of you my girl and it has been a blessing to be your mother. Thank you for being such a great daughter, filled with love, joy, friendship, life and optimism. You are truly beautiful through and through. I love you Shoshie girl…Happy Birthday!

Seven Months in the Land of Enchantment

We’ve been living in New Mexico for seven months now…so what do I think so far? Well, for anyone with an interest in moving to New Mexico, I say go for it! I really do love it here with one, little, tiny thing that I absolutely HATE (Noah and Shoshie if you are reading this, close the freaking page)…SCORPIONS! What did I expect? Rainbows and butterflies? Holy shit! Guess what, we’re coming upon scorpion season and yesterday while Dom was in our bathroom, he looked on the WALL and there was a scorpion. He swiped it off the wall and killed it. What’s the name of this particular scorpion dwelling on my bathroom wall? The Bark Scorpion. The picture on the left is what they look like.

Here in New Mexico you can buy one of those handy little black light flash lights. It seems that when you put a black light on them in the dark, they glow. Cool right? Don’t get me wrong, I am very curious about scorpions and think they are really interesting creatures, BUT NOT IN MY HOUSE! I’m paranoid about what’s lurking under the bed now, and also worried about Simmi in her room. This weekend we have to do some major scorpion proofing of our house. I was looking around and realized that there are lots of areas they can come in from. In retrospect, now I’m wondering if Simmi actually may have gotten a scorpion bite. She has had a lot of trouble walking and in the last few weeks it has gotten worse. She does have a small round red mark on the sole of her right foot and lately she has been screaming every time we put her into the crib. When I say scream, I mean SCREAM! She screams like she is being murdered. That started on Monday. Because we have concrete floors that are nasty and unfinished, we always put shoes on her. There would be no way for her to get a puncture mark in the bottom of her foot. I just noticed the mark yesterday, but could it be likely that she got bit? She doesn’t seem to have any of the symptoms of a bite, like swelling, nausea (even though she really isn’t eating much) excess saliva or foaming at the mouth. If you’re interested in reading about what she is going through (it has totally drained me) you can read about it on LovingSimone.com. Anyway, I don’t *think* she got bit, but I do wonder now if it’s possible. They say it causes extreme pain and numbness, but in children it can be very serious. All last week she had a fever of 102.3 but no symptoms of a cold. When I took her to the doctor he said it was probably a virus. It could have been that, but with a viral or bacterial infection, other symptoms are bound to show up. She never developed any other symptoms.

It has been a very trying two-three weeks. My head is spinning and I barely have a few moments to myself. My computer time has been cut down to a few moments here and there and mostly at night, but by 8:30pm I am totally exhausted. My writing has suffered, and I feel so disconnected from my online world. The simple pleasures that seem to help me through the day is the weather here. Every morning when I wake up, I hear the sound of hundreds of birds singing. The air is cool and pleasant and there is usually a beautiful breeze that blows through the house. The light here is amazing. We are entering monsoon season due to hurricane season in Mexico. Lately it is either raining every day or every other day. The humidity is also increased during this time of year. It stays relatively cool during the morning to mid afternoon and then it gets very hot until about 7:00pm. After that, it cools back down and we have very pleasant cool evenings. Being outside in the evening is a joy. Seeing the gorgeous colors painted across the sky in hues of purple and pink just make me take a deep breath, clear my head and enjoy the moment. One thing that is a nuisance (beyond scorpions) is the amount of dirt that blows in the windows. Where we live, there always seems to be two times a day when the wind picks up and gusts and sometimes I forget to close all the windows during those times. Oh-My-God, this one time we left the windows open and every room had light covering of dirt on it. Everything was covered with gritty sand; the table, chairs, floor, cabinets, clothing, beds…everything. The dirt is very light also, and when sweeping it up, most of it kicks up into the air only to settle once again on the floor or other house hold object. We have to not just sweep, but we have to use a shop vac depending on the amount of dirt blown in. It really is that bad! It’s the price we pay for living in the desert and NOT having rocks, wood chips or even grass covering the front and back yard. Most of the dirt that comes in is directly from our own yard, so we just deal with needing to clean up all the dirt. Landscaping is a very low priority on our list right now because there are so many needs on the interior.

I am officially a raw foodist again. I went back to eating raw foods on June 17th and it has been wonderful. We are almost done with my raw kitchen and just need a few more items to make it complete. Here is a few pictures of what it looked like before and after:

I also just created a raw website if anyone would like to take a look. I had some time on Sunday to create it, while Dom watched Simmi all day. That was a nice break! Anyway, here’s the site:

www.RavishinglyRaw.com

Bald Beauty of the Day

My Hannah Bear Turns 19!

Has it truly been 19 years since Hannah was born? Damn, I am old! But I remember the day of her birth like it happened just moments ago. Every moment of her entry into this world is etched in my mind forever. She was born at a very dark and difficult time in my life. I won’t go into the details, but I will tell you that she was meant to be here. Difficult and trying circumstances can bring forth some of the most marvelous miracles one can ever witness. When my days were the darkest and I walked around in shock from a particularly traumatic event, there she was kicking inside of me, reminding me each day that life is so precious. On June 24th 1990 I was taken into the hospital because she was over due. I was huge and had no idea just how big this child would be as she made her entrance into my world. With my father at my side, well, kind of…he was hiding under the blanket in a corner of the room, saying “Oh God!” every time I had a contraction, I pushed and pushed, and pushed some more. Something happened though…she got stuck. She was such a big baby that her shoulder got stuck behind my pelvic bone. I was rushed into the delivery room, where the doctor proceeded to pull his gloves as far up his forearms as possible and he told me that he would have to put his arm up there and turn her so that she could come out. Huh? Ok, I know the baby is large, but so was this doctor’s hands and arms! Geez, I could not believe he did that. After she came out, the doctor and nurses looked at each other and started to laugh. They were amazed that this child came out of me vaginally. Hannah weighed 10 lbs. at birth and she was 23 inches long. At first they didn’t know if she was a girl or boy, because she had three large rolls of soft beautiful fat that blocked them from seeing that she was a girl. Because she stayed in the birth canal for well over a half hour, her head and face were very distorted. She reminded me of Jabba the Hutt. Her eyes were so swollen that it took a day before she could open them. For anyone that has given birth to a big baby, you know also that the calorie intake for these little baby monsters is HUGE! Hannah nursed so much, that by the end of the second day I had LOTS of milk. Instead of losing weight in the hospital, she actually gained 2 1/2 pounds. I had saved all the clothing I had from when Gina was born, but the outfit that I had to take her home in was too small. Hannah was the size of a three month old when we left the hospital. I took her home in a hospital tee-shirt, diaper and hospital blankets.

Her skin was the softest skin I had ever felt. It was supple and mushy and she smelled so good. As the weeks went by, her face formed correctly and what emerged was a most beautiful baby. Deep brown eyes, soft dark skin and an appetite that never quit. I nursed her all the time. She wasn’t happy unless some part of my skin was in her mouth. A pinky knuckle, my chin or a breast. She wouldn’t allow anyone to hold her and would scream unless I was holding her, nursing her or she was in the swing. Hannah crawled early and was walking by the time she was nine months old. Until she was nine months old, she barely ever smiled or laughed. I felt like the Dairy Queen as the months went by until finally the nursing was so out of hand that I had to wean her. From the time I weaned her, she started to smile, laugh and was great around other people. It was like I had a completely different child. Something was different about her though…she didn’t speak. Of course Gina, her big sister was there to “express” what Hannah may have wanted. Gina would bring Hannah into the kitchen holding her hand and say “Hannah wants some juice”, and I would ask Hannah “Do you want juice?” She would nod “Yes.” I knew she could understand everything we were saying and all her developmental milestones were completely normal, except for speech. It didn’t concern me because in my heart I knew it would only be a matter of time before she would speak. She didn’t disappoint either. At around 2 1/2 years old, while we were driving some where in the car, we heard this small, raspy voice in the backseat. I turned my head to see where it was coming from, and there in her car seat was Hannah speaking. She wasn’t just speaking, she was quoting bible verses. “Love the Lord your God with all your heart” was what this child was saying. When she saw that I was witnessing this, she shut up. She knew how to speak…she just chose to be silent all that time.

Hannah and Gina did everything together. When Gina was four years old and Hannah was two, we lived in an apartment on the third floor above a store. I went down stairs to get the mail, and Gina took it upon herself to “get help” because they were left alone. Gina was wearing a skirt with no shirt on, Hannah was wearing a shirt with no underwear or pants on…they BOTH put MY shoes on, Gina took Hannah by the hand and brought her down the back stairs of the fire escape to my neighbor’s house, one flight down. Gina knocked on the door and my neighbor answered. Gina is holding Hannah’s hand and Gina proceeds to tell the neighbor that they were left all alone and she doesn’t know where her mommy is. The neighbor heard me walking back up the stairs and opens the door. She says, “You have to see this, can you come in?” I said “Sure.” I walk into her kitchen, and there standing before me are my two little girls, each half dressed and wearing my shoes. I busted out laughing and realized at that moment that Hannah would follow Gina anywhere.

Hannah loved climbing into my bed while I was sleeping and then she would fall back to sleep. While her sister was up running around making things or getting into stuff she shouldn’t, Hannah was more content crawling under the covers with me and curling up there. Often I would be awoken by her when she was four years old when I would hear this soft, raspy voice say “Good morning mommy, good morning.” She was just this pure sweetness that I wanted to eat up. You couldn’t help but fall in love with Hannah. She had a knack for making grown men cry too. On many occasions, I could catch different men that we knew, tear up as they looked into her eyes. She had a soft quality about her that just made everyone melt.

Hannah loved to create and imagine. I used to have a craft room in my basement where we lived in Michigan, and that child would just rummage through all my craft supplies and material so she could make something. I’d see her walking down the sidewalk with the stroller and inside it was our dog…all dressed up in something she made.

Hannah has always been and always will be a tender soul. Beautiful to the core, she exudes love, compassion, joy, creativity and a thirst for life. She is a musician…self taught. This girl can sing too. We would hear her practicing in her room over and over, but through a door. One night she invited us to come to hear her play. We were all blown away. True to the spirit of a hard core introvert, Hannah shines when she performs. Writing her own songs and melodies, she captivates her audience with rich, soulful, gut-wrenching lyrics. Sometimes dark, sometimes melancholy, but always pure and true to who she is and what she is feeling in that moment. Having her in my life is miracle each and everyday.

I miss her. Plain and simple. She lives on the east coast, and HOPEFULLY (hint, hint, Hannah) she will make plans to move out here too. She has a life she loves and a boyfriend that treats her well…but she doesn’t have her Mama out there. It’s been almost six months since I last saw her and I think it’s hard on us all. We were together last in December and we took some pretty cool pictures on my computer…here is a slide of us all goofing off. Of course Noah will kill me for showing this because his hair was all messed up. Heehee. Hannah hounded me for days to take these pictures, so I thought I would share it all with you:

My Father, My Hero

This Father’s Day I wanted to celebrate my dad by sharing some of him with all of you. My father has always been an extraordinary man with a passion for his family. My sister and I lived with my mother until I was nine and my sister was seven. My dad wanted to make a life for us with my mother, but for reasons I’d rather not say, they were divorced when I was two years old. His dream was always to be near us, and it broke his heart that he lived on the east coast and my sister and I lived on the west coast. Back then custody was always awarded to the mother, leaving my father with very few options. He would faithfully send us gifts and money to help care for us, and being the type of person that my mother was, that money was always spent on drugs and the gifts were brought to the store unopened for money. My father would come out to see my sister and I every year in the summer and take me to Disney Land, Knox Berry Farms, the Zoo, Universal Studios, the movies and lots of other places. By the time I was six years old, I wanted to live with my dad in NJ and my mother let me go there for a visit. This is how messed up my mother was…she brought me to the airport when I was six years old, took me to one of the coffee shops there and gave me some money. She told me which door I was supposed to go through to get on the plane and left me there.  Can you imagine a mother doing such a thing? She told the cashier what time my flight was at and to remind me when I was supposed to get on the plane. I boarded what seemed like a HUGE plane, and as I recall that time in my life, I remember how much tolerance the people had for me. I ran up and down the isle of that plane for most of the flight, skipping and singing. After arriving safely and NOT being kidnapped by some weirdo, I stayed with my dad for a while. I don’t remember how long it was, but I knew that I wanted to live with him for good. He would make up crazy songs to sing to me at night as he played guitar or show off his mad flute skills. I got to eat real food, go places and I felt very secure being with him. My life in California was a nightmare. I had a step-father who beat my mother and me regularly, and being out of that environment made me feel like there was hope for not living in fear. I was returned home and it would be another three years until my father found a way to take my sister and I away from that life. When I was nine, he made the decision to take my sister and I. Calling my mother he said he wanted them for a little vacation (in February) but once we got here, he told us we were staying and not going back. He built a case for keeping us out there and won on the basis that my mother was unfit.

By taking us away from that life in California he became our hero. He gave my sister and I a stable life, food, clothing, a nice place to live and we actually went to school. He not only was a musician, but also an artist. He taught me how to draw and he would enter my work into contests. He loved putting his work into art shows and would enter my work into the junior division. His life long commitment to my sister and I continues to this day. He started writing a number of years ago and has published two books, with a third book going into print as well as being available as an e-book. I created a website for him to be able to sell his books. So what are his books about? Hmm…you have to go to his website to read about them! Just kidding, I’ll give you the synopsis of each of his books and if it gets you a little curious, head over to his site and get a book (or two) downloaded:

Synopsis: Sixteenth Century Nicholas Kristo is commissioned to show the spirit of selfless giving to a world immersed in political, theological and societal corruption. After being led to a gold mine by a messenger of God, Nicholas and best friend Ben set off to build a mountaintop Mission. There they’d use their great fortune to help the disabled of the world, creating prosthesis, wheelchairs and many other useful gifts that would impact the needy in their worldly struggles. No reindeer and elves as helpers in this story, rather Nicholas employs the unlovely, the unwanted and misfits to man his workshops.
When Ben’s family is unjustly accused of a crime by corrupt soldiers intent on seizing their land, Nicholas gives them refuge in the newly constructed Mission. While in pursuit of the family, Captain Andre Ficci and his wicked brother, Manuel, discover the fortune, using any means necessary to locate and seize the gold. The story reads like a novel-length fable.

(Click the book cover to read a sample picture)

Synopsis: When Franciscan Monk, Peto Cardinelli visits his twin brother, Paulo, in prison for stealing church relics he’d sold to feed the poor, he unexpectedly dies. Paulo seizes the moment to escape jail and switches clothes, determined to carry on his  brother’s commission to escort deviant Archbishop Morlan Fadesti to Rome for his ordination as Cardinal.

After Paulo discovers the Archbishop is a pedophile, he secretly employs his actor friends to pose as Vatican officials and join him in an effort to stop the corrupt priest on the road to Rome. When the players are all in place, Paulo conspires with them to deceive the Archbishop into paying for his own imprisonment.

Although stopping a pedophile priest is serious business, Paulo’s extraordinary sense of humor, charm and wit fully carries the story weightlessly with smiles to the end. As Paulo feigns stupidity, and continually baits the Archbishop into doing the right things for the wrong reasons, the reader will discover the true genius of ‘The Crooked Stick’. (Click the book cover to read a sample chapter)

Synopsis

Forty-five-year old Christian artist, Arturo Cruz, is sent by archangel Nathaniel to purge the church of corrupt ministers wherever he finds them. Able to communicate with Nathaniel telepathically, Arturo teams up with love interest, Detective Sergeant Juliann Assanti. Together they set out on an international investigation neither of them are the slightest bit prepared for.

After exposing several local, corrupt ministers, Juliann reveals her burning desire to find her father’s murderer. When Arturo volunteers to help, it’s not long before the two find themselves probing an international drug ring, whose headquarters are located on board the famous mission ship, Christendom. Its leader; a psychotic minister bent on revenge against God and His ‘children’, eager to kill them by any means necessary.

(Click the book cover to read a sample chapter)

Nicholas Kristo and The Crooked Stick are both available for sale at my dad’s website. I haven’t written on my blog in a month (I know, bad girl) but a lot has been going on. Needless to say, we are really financially strapped and unfortunately I have no gift to give my dad this Father’s Day. What I would like to give him as a gift would be for EVERYONE reading this entry, to go over to his site, www.KoestlersNovels.com and purchase a copy of his books. Nicholas Kristo is available in print for $20.00 plus shipping and handling or on E-Book for $5.00. The Crooked Stick is available in print for $11.50 plus shipping and handling or on E-Book for $5.00 as well. Chasing Elmer Gantry is currently being formatted for both print and E-Book. To reserve your copy of Chasing Elmer Gantry, simply click here and you’ll be taken to his Contact Page where you can leave him a message. On an interesting note, “The Crooked Stick” was read by a screen writer of a prominent film production company (I can’t say which one…sorry) to be made into a movie. How cool is that?

Help me honor my dad this Father’s Day and buy one or both of his books. It would mean the world to me and would thrill him to no end. It is such a unique gift. Do it out of curiosity…to have a look into the mind and imagination of the one who helped bring me into this world.

Happy Father’s Day Dad, I love you!

Bald Beauty of the Day…My Dad!

My Boo Boo Kitty Turns Twenty One Tomorrow!

On May 23rd, my oldest child turns 21 years old. Am I really that old? Geez! It seems like yesterday that she was just born! Gina, who I affectionately call my ‘boo boo kitty’ is my first born child, as well as Simone’s mother.

This girl always gave me a run for my money. Mischievous from birth, she made curiosity her main goal in life! Let me give you a few little stories about my Boo-Boo Kitty…

By the time Gina was a year old, she could speak fluently and it was only a few months after she was speaking in sentences that she began to be able to read, recite the alphabet, spell words forwards and backwards and ask lots of questions. She was potty trained before she was two and used to love to show off her cute little panties. One day, we had to go to court, so I got her all dressed up in her cute little dress, shoes and socks and of course her bright colored undies. I made sure she was fully dressed before we left and jumped in a cab, rushing off to the court house. We show up and all is silent during roll call. She was very well behaved with a weird grin on her face. What happened next mortified me and to this day makes me laugh. The child stood up on the bench we were sitting on, turned around to everyone in the court room, lifted up her cute little dress and proclaimed “Look!!!!! I have no panties on!” Oh-My-God! Her absolute innocence made it very difficult to ever be mad at her for some of the stunts that she would pull.

By the time she was three, my daughter Hannah was a year old. Gina loved nail polish, scissors, and really anything that could make a mess and create something interesting. Anytime something mischievous would happen, for whatever reason, she liked getting up really early to do it. Of course that meant that I was sleeping. One very early morning, Gina went searching through the house for my red nail polish. She found it hidden way up high in a cabinet. She climbed up, got the red nail polish, brought it into Hannah, who was in her crib, and proceeded to paint her red. She must have tipped the bottle over too in the process, because there were drips of red nail polish all over the carpet. After finishing her living master piece, she came into my room and tapped me on the back. I was sleeping, and I hear this little voice softly saying, “Mommy, Mommy, Hannah’s bleeding. Hannah’s bleeding Mommy. Hannah’s bleeding.” I woke up, jumped out of bed and rushed into Hannah’s room. There was my little sweet girl with her legs hanging out of the crib. She was just sitting there like some sort of bloody prisoner. She wasn’t crying, and because I was still half asleep, I didn’t smell the strong nail polish odor that emanated from the room. I started to examine Hannah to try to figure out where she was bleeding from. It looked like a blood bath in her crib. Her white crib was smeared with red polish, her legs and arms and part of her face as well. Her sheets had drips of red. At this point I was totally awake, and there was Gina standing at my side watching me examine Hannah. Gina didn’t say a word. She just stood there grinning at her work. Finally, I smelled the strong odor of nail polish and realized it was just polish and no blood was spilled. I couldn’t be angry with this child, although it was a little less innocent! She actually told me that Hannah was bleeding. Hmm? Should I have disciplined her for that? I didn’t.

Not too long after the nail polish incident, she found the scissors and decided to give her self a hair cut. We had to get it almost completely cut off, and from that point on, Gina would only wear dresses. She thought she looked like a boy.

She found all my baking supplies and one morning, decided to climb up to the top cabinet and get it all down. Flour, sugar, cinnamon, all my spices, chocolate chips, coconut shreds, walnuts and salt…Of course this was all before the break of dawn. Gina took all the ingredients, and on her brown rug in the play room, moved all the toys to make room for the giant cookie she was going to make me for breakfast. When she finished making her masterpiece cookie, she proudly woke me up and told me that she made me something. I got up out of bed, and she took me by the hand into the playroom. She puts both hands out and says, “Look, I made you a biiiiiiiiiiiiggggggggggg cookie!!!!!!!!!!!” She was so proud of the work she had done. As a matter of fact, it must have taken her HOURS to make it. It did look like a giant round cookie. I just smiled and teared up to look at that sweet face. How many parents get a giant cookie for breakfast, made by their precocious three year old?

Gina was always full of energy, smiling and loving to get the best of us. She is talented in art (although she doesn’t think so) great with the flute, loves fashion and is very social. When she was nineteen years old she gave birth to Simmi. Being young and not ready to have a child, she faced one of the most difficult decisions ever. As a family, we wanted her to make the best decision for her life, and she chose to let us raise Simone. Currently, she has been missing me a lot and has been considering moving to New Mexico. In the near future I hope that will come to fruition. I miss her terribly, and would love to have her closer to me.

Happy Birthday Boo-Boo Kitty…I love you dearly!

Forgive My Absence

Please forgive such a long absence from my blog. Much has been going on in our lives and unfortunately my blog has had to take a backseat for a while. A few weeks ago my husband safely arrived here in New Mexico for good and I have been taking it all in! Its been great having him home. The past two weeks have been filled with much insecurity for Simmi and she is finally calming down. Anytime Dom would get up to do something she would freak out and start crying, thinking he was going to leave again. Its been a little nuts here. Of course he is loving every second of it. He’s plunged himself in to the Green Scene here, making connections and looking for work. Yes, he’s unemployed. It was a very difficult decision to have him move out here without a job. We’re keeping our fingers crossed for a few jobs that look very promising. We’ve had issues with Simmi’s health, issues with my health and now, in just a few days Noah and Shoshie will be leaving for the summer to be with their dad.

My hair continues to grow in and its starting to look pretty good. The photo is very deceiving though. Before I took that picture (and others) I applied a cosmetic concealer called DermMatch to my head. I have a good amount of hair that is permanently gone, but this concealer works like a charm making it look like I have a bountiful, full head of hair. I’m still learning how to use it properly, and as my hair continues to grow (and hopefully doesn’t fall out again) I’ll do an even better job at applying it. I highly recommend it for anyone that has thinning hair. I went a little crazy with the stuff though, and put so much on in certain areas that my head looked like I had just come out of coal mine. If I touched it, the dark pigment would rub off on my hands. Right now I need a lot of this stuff to make my hair look decent, and hopefully as it grows in, I’ll require less of it.

My transition back to raw foods will also be coming soon. We figured out a way for me to have tree nuts in the house. In another blog entry, I mentioned that it would be difficult for me to go back to raw foods because of Simmi’s food allergies, but we have found a way around that. On the side of my house, we have a sun room which we will be converting into a raw kitchen. I will be able to prepare raw meals without the possibility of cross contamination or potentially exposing her to tree nuts or seeds she may be allergic to. We don’t bring any type of nut product into the house, so a separate raw kitchen becomes the best way to ensure that we don’t have any problems.

I’m hoping to be back on track and NOT neglecting my blog very soon. I have a lot of catching up to do and so much to say that sometimes my mind just goes blank.

Bald Beauty of the Day

My Son’s Documentary About Bob Marley

On April 24, 2009 my son Noah was invited to enter a National History Day contest. He chose to work on a documentary about Bob Marley. Throughout the process of his compiling data, writing his script and creating his documentary presentation, I was very impressed with his dedication not only to the process, but also with the degree of integrity he employed. This is a project that he alone can take all credit for. He sat for hours on end finding pictures online, gathering his sources and making his mama VERY proud. Many of the kids at his school had already started their project before we moved to Rio Rancho, so he had quite a bit of catching up to do.

The contest was held at the National Hispanic Cultural Center in Albuquerque, NM. The architecture and grounds were visually stunning. I was impressed by how beautiful the center was.

We got to the Cultural Center bright and early, and I was unsure how the day would play out since Simmi was with us. The contest took place from 8:30am-4:30pm and I was sure that something would end up going wrong. Taking a toddler to a full day event is not the easiest thing to do, especially when she has as many health concerns as she has. Simmi did surprisingly well, but around 12:00pm she finally started to get too upset to stay. Noah went before some judges and presented his documentary. I thought he did a great job, but of course, I’m his mother…so I’m going to be partial. There were some technical glitches for a student that was supposed to go on before him and since there were problems, for reasons that still baffle me, the judges decided not to let anyone in to view his work. The students are supposed to be able to view their peers projects and I was a little upset that no one could come in to see his work. I asked one of the judges if I could come in and view it, and she reluctantly said yes. I told her that I would also be filming it…I don’t think she liked that very much. I WISH the sound quality on my video camera was more clear, because while the judges were talking to him about his work, they asked an interesting question, “Who helped you write your documentary? Did anyone contribute to it?” My son is extremely smart and he is an excellent writer. I’d like to add that at twelve years old, he is a better writer than a lot of adults! That is not a biased statement from this doting mother. He has the makings of a great writer, and has a style all his own. I had a feeling that the judges would ask if he wrote the script, and when they asked, my heart sank just a little. Why is it impossible to believe that a twelve year old boy wrote the script? Beyond that question, they felt that he did a good job. They felt that the pictures could have been of a better quality, but over all they liked that he chose Bob Marley for his documentary.

I could have helped him with the pictures, but I felt it was better to for him to take care of the project all on his own. Needless to say, disappointment ensued when his documentary was not chosen as one of the finalists. As we were leaving, he looked at me and asked, “Do you think they didn’t choose my work because they didn’t think I wrote it?” All I could do was say “yes.” We were never told why they didn’t choose his documentary, but I know he is very proud of the work that he did. In that, he is quite satisfied. Disappointment will always come face to face with our children, but teaching them to handle it with grace and dignity is important. I want him to grow up celebrating the accomplishments of others that worked just as hard as he did on their projects. The whole process was a great experience for him and a treasured moment in time for me, because I got to witness my son’s dedication to working in excellence both emotionally and intellectually and in the end achieved his personal best. What more could a mother ask for?

Here is his process paper and following that is a slide I put together of our day at the Cultural Center and finally ending it with his documentary:

The Life and Legacy of Bob Marley
Noah Kleinman
Junior Division
Individual Documentary

Why I chose this topic?

Bob Marley has been an inspiration to me since I started listening to his music.  His message of freedom opened my mind into a new kind of music and what music can tell you.  In my way of thinking his music was a milestone in history.  He is the symbol of peace almost everywhere and to everyone who knows him.  I would someday like to do what he does, and inspire people to let go, live your life to the fullest, and “Get Up, Stand, Up.”

How I conducted my research and created my documentary:

I moved from Maryland to Rio Rancho at about the 2nd semester.  My class was only a few months in on their projects so I joined in and chose to do Bob Marley.  My teacher went to the public library and checked out a few books on Bob Marley.  I took notes on important information in these books and then wrote a narration script.  I then went on to Windows Movie Maker and narrated my timeline first and then went on to Google and an archive site to get the pictures for my narration. I timed it all and added all my titles and music.  I then burned it onto a DVD.  I brought it to the regional contest in my school and got 2nd place.  I knew it needed more content so I researched some more on Google and my teacher found some newspaper and magazine articles and rewrote my script.  I found more pictures and revised my movie.  I got more DVDs and published it.  I was then ready for show time.

How my project relates to the theme:

My project deals with Bob Marley, an individual, who created music that changed some people’s daily lives.  It allowed the South Africans to deal with the apartheid system, and made rivaled leaders of political gangs join hands and be at peace with each other.  Time Magazine even says that he, “…rivals the government as a political force.”  His legacy is still heard in other music styles like R&B and hip-hop.  He will go down in history for this.

Annotated Bibliography

Primary Sources:
Farley, Christopher.  Remembering Bob Marley,
Time Magazine., 2005
I gathered primary source quotes from this article.

Unknown Author.  The Best Of The Century.
Time Magazine., 1999
I got the Time Magazine’s best album, Exodus, from this article.

Lloyd Bradley.  This Is Reggae Music.
1st ed. NY: Grove Atlantic Inc., 2000
This gave me primary source information on the reggae field before and after Bob Marley.

Secondary Sources:
Unknown Author.  Jamaica Politics and Bob Marley One Love Peace Concert.  RASTA-MAN-VIBRATION.COM
I was able to find secondary source quotes and information on Marley’s One Love peace concert.

Unknown Author.  Bob Marley.
Rock and Roll Hall of Fame + Museum., 1994
I got primary and mostly secondary quotes, information on Bob’s induction ceremony, and a timeline of the important events in his life.

Picture Credits:
Urban Images
Google Images Search

My Darling Daughter Hannah

Today has been a very busy day for us and Simone has been keeping me on my toes. The phone is ringing off the hook and of course I can’t get to it because I’m completely tied up taking care of Simmi…so I let it ring. I had a feeling it was Hannah calling me and I felt so bad that I couldn’t answer the phone in that moment. After putting Simmi in for a nap a few minutes ago, I jumped online and lo’ and behold there is a slew of emails from my darling daughter. In these emails there are pictures attached with her rambling on about how she finally has an ass. The picture to the left is of her and her man. Yes, she takes after me with her sense of humor and she had me cracking up. I had to post the following pictures and her explanation of what they mean:

This is what Hannah emailed me:

“I put together a beautiful commentary for you.”

How to use spandex underwear when your ass gets to big…

Picture 1: Look like Mickey Mouse..or simply a geek

Picture 2: Look cute without anyone knowing you’re wearing underwear on your head

Picture 3: Look slightly psychotic

Picture 4: Totally pass as a ninja

Picture 5: To freak people out

Picture 6: Hostage situation

Picture 7: Ghetto head wrap

Picture 8: A neck band that makes you look classy

Picture 9: A head band that not only makes you look like an idiot from the 80’s but also makes you feel tough.

“To show the world how your mom influenced you to make anything multi-functional and a complete dork.

I love you”

Bald Beauty of the Day

One More Thing For the Birthday Boy!

Ok, I just found out that Matisyahu is putting out a new album called “Light.”  We missed the last opportunity to see Matisyahu live in NY and I’ll never forget the look of disappointment in Dom’s eyes because we couldn’t get there that night. Well, I’ll never let that happen again! I made sure that if he couldn’t see him live, he could at least dance on stage with him! That’s right, you can see the Birthday boy in all his glory dancing as Matisyahu sings!

Here is the link to make your own: Dance With Matisyahu

So now that I have given you a dance and a song from Matisyahu my dear husband, I want to add one more thing…Matisyahu World! That’s right my love, just click the link for Matisyahu World and become a part of their community. There is so much on the site. Here is a message from Matisyahu about the community:

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