Pouting

We were supposed to go out for a nice dinner tonight with friends but Molly is sick. I can't risk exposing her to the other kids at the babysitter's so we aren't going. So now I am pouting. Plus the Tylenol kicked in so she is acting fine which makes me more irritated.

30 plus 2

Thirty two years ago today was the best day of my Mom's life ... or something like that. ;) In a truly self-absorbed post, I have now relayed to you my loyal readers (all two of you) that it is indeed my birthday. You may start singing to me and come bearing gifts.

Dave and the kids got me a shirt and a new pair of running shoes. Stop snickering about the running shoes. I treated myself to a new workout routine -- Couch to 5K. Its a nine-week program to prepare you to run a 5K. At this point, running half a mile would be an improvement.

Sick

Everything aches. I thought it was from a particularly strenuous workout (thanks Lyndsey!) but now my throat hurts and my joints ache. The timing is not good. Dave is out of town. I have a meeting tomorrow in the morning. I need to get to the gym to start running.

And all I want to do is sleep and sleep some more.

Petunia Pig

Crap, I am fat. Seriously. These are not the rantings of a size 0 who thinks she is fat. I am now officially the heaviest I have ever been in my life (pregnancies not included, of course). I swear it crept up on me too. When I nursed Molly, I maintained a steady weight not matter what I eat. When I stopped, 10 pounds jumped on my back side. Since then, its been a slow incline up and up ... and lets just say more up.

I don't think being thin makes you any more happy. If it did, Kate Moss would be the happiest woman in the world and that just ain't true. But when I look in the mirror, I don't see myself looking back. And while I don't think going back to a size whatever will increase my worth, it will make me look better in a bathing suit. Ha!

P.S. I am in week two of fitness classes three days a week at church ... so I am making an attempt to change things.

P.S.S. I weighed myself while Aunt Flo was here and I had just eaten and I was dressed. ;)

P.S. Happy Mother's Day!

I had a wonderful Mother's Day! I had a yummy brunch at Toast (brioche with ham, swiss and orange marmalade -- yum-o). The kids and Dave got me a docking station for my iPod so I can listen to music while I am downstairs. I got to take a Sunday nap. It was perfect.

And then bath time came. The kids dumped my entire bottle of BRAND NEW shampoo and pulled my ivy plant into the tub. As mad as the shampoo makes me, I am more upset about the plant. I got it when Jake was born. I've worked hard to keep it alive over the past six years. Hopefully it survives its bath.

The kids lost their stories except one on obedience. ;)

Here kitty, kitty ...

We've been adopted by two feral cats. Or our house has been at least. Last night I heard them getting their kitty groove on. Then when we got back from brunch today, they were having after groove cigarettes on our porch! Okay, they were just hanging out. They've been here all day and the kids think it is cool. One looks like Garfield and that's what Jake is calling him. The other is white with spots of grey stripes. I am worried that the orange one is sick -- his cheeks are swollen like when a hamster stores food. Hopefully he's just fat like his namesake.

I have no plans to domesticate the beasts but if they want to eat the mice around our house -- go for it! If I can get a picture of them, I will post it.

It's one of those days ...

How about we want a dessert and we ask Mommy for it. But we don't tell her what the dessert is -- just that we couldn't have it the other day at Mrs. Heather's house. Now Mommy wasn't there when aforementioned dessert was denied and was not told about it at the time. Yet we expect Mommy to know and offer only vague clues such as "it was dessert." And when Mommy says really she doesn't know, we insist YES she does. Mommy says "why don't you tell me" and you obviously know the answer but still refuse to say. Mommy gets more annoyed with the conversation and you get more annoyed and Mommy loses her temper and you lose your temper.

Was it really worth it for a stinking chocolate bar?
That's what Mommy wants to know ...

Note to self: Look at the picture and remember the swell of love one feels for the child ...

The Puzzling Spectrum of Autism Causes
By Kristina Chew
May 5th, 2008

What do TV, ultrasounds, insufficient vitamin D, air pollution, a mother having the flu while pregnant, mercury, have to do with each other?

All have been named as possible causes of autism. TK Kenyon looks at the puzzling spectrum of research into the cause of autism, some of which he labels as “just plain stupid”—the theory by economist Michael Waldman that tv causes autismautism causes tv—while others are “brilliant”—a 2006 study published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (PNAS), about a genetic variant that disrupts the transcription of MET, a gene that is a tyrosine kinase receptor and that “participates in brain growth and maturation, immune function, and repair of the digestive system.” As Kenyon further notes about the latter:

Children with autism often have symptoms of disturbances in some or all of these systems. This research ties together these disparate symptoms and explains why children with neurological symptoms often have diarrhea or immunological problems.

There’s something about autism that attracts speculation about “what causes it” and “why the increase”? People are quick to shake their heads at the suggestion that better diagnosis and more understanding about autism are real factors in the recent increase in the prevalence rate of autism, which is now 1 in 150 among children in the US, and 1 in 94 in New Jersey where I live.

Is it that people want to know why a child like my son can look so “normal,” with no obvious health problems (indeed, my son is very healthy, strong, and muscular from lots of physical activity)? Or why some autistic individuals seem to have behaviors that are highly reminiscent of those only absorbed—”obsessed”—with that quintessential product of the techno-computer age, the video game? Is autism about the “odd”/”strange”/”bizarre”/”abnormal” behaviors that one sees (and that are currently used to diagnose it), or is autism something invisible to the naked eye—-something in the genes, or just some kind of neuro-difference?

No surprise that the search is on for a biomarker for autism (one such candidate is accelerated head growth). If we could just pinpoint what causes autism, then we could figure out a cure.

I’m not at all sure what such a “cure” would look like. If I wanted to, I could say—could sculpt my words to prove—that my son has “recovered” to the extent that he could: He can talk now (in short, short sentences and not always clearly). He is curious about people and about children his age in particular, though his burgeoning and rather rote social skills do not make for too much actual interaction. As noted, he’s extremely healthy, and he’s extremely attuned to the world around him; to what Jim and I say and are feeling. He’s got more than his share of obsessions, anxieties, what can be called “tics” or “stims,” from holding his shoulders and hands a certain exaggerated way to (sometimes) constantly humming. He’s come much farther than anyone would or could have predicted when he was being evaluated at the Child Development Clinic in the Minneapolis Children’s Hospital, almost nine years ago. His IEP, neurology reports, forms for the Department of Developmental Disabilities, doctors’ reports, all have one six-letter word somewhere:

Autism.

And sometimes the puzzle to me is why it seems so hard, or unpleasant perhaps, or just unfathomable, to accept a genetic explanation for autism. As each day passes, I see more and more of Jim and of myself in Charlie and these observations reassure me more than anything else. Neither Jim nor I have autism. Charlie does.

I think there is (to me) the beginning of an answer somewhere in there.

Honestly?

Why can't Molly ever leave me alone? The girl is like velcro. It doesn't matter how much time I spend with her, she wants more. She follows me to the potty, to the shower, to the laundry room ... everywhere! Now don't get me wrong, I love her. But you would think being home ALL DAY with me would fill up her Mommy tank. She doesn't even have to share me with her brother since he is at school. And it is not enough to be next to me -- she has to be ON me.

Argh.

So moments when I have had it up to here (point to the top of your forehead), I will drink wine and then look at this picture to remind me how sweet she is:

It is 4 p.m. ...

And I am going to have a glass of wine. :) Don't be jealous. If you saw the fit Molly had at dance class, you would have drank an entire bottle before noon. So there.

May is Cystic Fibrosis Awareness Month

Honestly, I really don't like to jump on "This Month is National Whatever Awareness Month" but this one is just as important to me as Autism. A good friend of mine has CF (hi Holly). We need to raise awareness about CF and increase funding for research.

So do your part and support CF research:
www.cff.org/aboutCFFoundation/NewsEvents/index.cfm?ID=8662&TYPE=1670