Jill

Sitting at my desk, preparing for my next kid when BOOM!  An e-mail pops up on my screen with the portal to speech therapy heaven.  Ok, maybe not heaven, but it linked me to a page with a bunch of really great speech/language therapy activities.  Just like that, I changed my plan and used one of the activities to collect data on a student in need of some new IEP goals.  It was nice to have such a great resource fall into my lap on an unusually stressful day.  My job really does give me the opportunity to meet and work with some of the most amazing people.

Jill, thank you for the resource.  It was HUGELY appreciated today.

Dad

Thanks for making the kids dinner and picking up babysitting duties when mom had book club. 

Tim

I am not a coffee drinker, but I do love my pop.  I have become addicted to the extra sweet flavor of Pepsi Max.  I stopped by Kroger's today to replenish my cans that I take for lunch every day.  Twelve packs were on sale 3 for $11.  SCORE!!  At least that is what I thought until I saw that they were out of twelve packs of Pepsi Max.  They did have the 24 pack, but they were not on sale.  Tim was in the aisle and I asked him about it.  He was nice enough to give me the 12 pack price per can on the 24 pack.  He even walked up to the front with me to make sure I didn't have any problems.  I love great customer service.

Kelly

Max has joined an intramurel dodge ball team.  He was invited to join by Miss Kelly's kids.  Unfortunately, Miss Kelly and I did not realize it was a Monday night activity, not Tuesday nights, until tonight.  Oops!  Luckily, she was able to regroup and get all 3 kids to the league game tonight.  This confirms what I have always known, it is much easier to be a working parent when you have a great stay at home mom to back you up. 

Kelly, thanks for being my bonus "homemaker." 

Matt

Today, I got up early to work on laundry, pick up dry cleaning, and do my grocery shopping.  Headed out to the garage where I found that my car door had been open all night.  The battery was dead.  My brother in law came over, helped me get my car out of the garage and on to the street.  Then he jumped my car so that it was working yet again.

Thanks Matt for being Mr. Fixit on a Sunday morning.

Willie

Sam's favorite snack is popcorn from the snack counter at Target.  If you have ever had it, you know that it really is just the best popcorn EVER!!!!!   Several years ago a local news station asked if they could interview me about John Boy for a story they were doing.  I said sure, but instead of coming to the house, the story would be better if they could film John Boy in action.  The reporter said she would have to check around to find someplace.  I told her to try our Target, they know us and would agree.  She seemed to have her doubts.  So I told her, "Just say it's Sam and his dog, the manager will say it's fine."  I could tell she still didn't believe me when she hung up.  When she called me back she said, "They really do know exactly who you are!"  That was our old Target. 

We now have a new Target that is much closer to our new house.  I am happy to say that the new Target is even more welcoming than our old one.  Willie is one of the very nice ladies who works at the snack counter, which is usually the reason for our trip.  She is wonderfully patient when Sam comes up.  She greets him by name and gives him all the time he needs to get his order together and pull out the right amount of money.  It's really nice that she helps him get the extra practice communicating and working with money.  I have to say, I enjoy talking to her myself.  I was telling her one day how we had bought so much popcorn at our old Target, that one year the girl behind the counter bought us a personalized Christmas ornament.  Without missing a beat, Willie said, "Well what's your name? I might get you one!" 

Willie, thanks for having a great attitude, being entertaining and thank you for being especially patient every time we come in for popcorn. 

Jessica

Today I got to do an AAC consult.  The absolute best part of my job is helping individuals who are not able to communicate using natural methods communicate using assistive technology.  It is even better when I get to work with families.  Love it, love it, love it.

Jessica, thank you for inviting me to your school so I could do what I love best. 

Peg

Some people have a great attitude no matter what comes their way.  Then they share it with the rest of us.

Peg, thanks for sharing that "making lemonade" attitude.

Sandra

My day started off by sitting in a meeting with an ignorant person who, knowing I'm Catholic, said she hates her neighborhood because it's full of Catholics.  She also uses disparaging, bigoted language when referring to children.  She is quite the charmer!  She is not the only lovely personality I get to encounter in my work day.  Which is why I ended my day with somebody asking me, "So are you coming back?" On a day like today, I needed somebody to remind me the world is bigger than my office.

Sandra asked me to write a letter of intent to be on an advisory committee for a doctoral grant.  Doesn't that sound important and meaningful?  I had to talk about my experiences and qualifications.  It's good to take inventory on yourself every once in a while.  Especially on a bad day.  It reminds me I have choices, which makes it a little easier to deal with ignorant, awful people.   

Sandra, thank you for asking me to write a letter of intent.  Even if I'm not asked to participate, it was good for me to take stock of myself professionally.  

(In case you're wondering; yes, I am going back.  I am a glutton for punishment and unlikely to back down from somebody looking to bully me.)   

Jen

You know how you start college at 18 and have these really grandiose yet idealistic notions of the future and how you will change the world?  Then you graduate, you work for ten years and go, "Well, crap!  That didn't turn out how I had hoped."  When you start grad school at 39, it doesn't take you 10 years after graduation to get to the, "Oh, crap" realization part.  

Sometimes at the end of a bad day, it's good to have somebody tell you that this crap will pass.  Thank you Jen for being the prunes for my bad mood.  (Not exactly the warm fuzzy feeling I was hoping to invoke, but it's the best I could do today.)

Wendy

Here is the very cool thing about having a kid with autism, you get to meet very cool people you would never have come across any other way.  Wendy is one of those people.  I met her at 4 Paws. 

Other cool Wendy facts:  She is Mormon.  She is a liberal.  I'm sorry, but even if you don't agree with either, how cool is it that she is both?  She has great fashion sense.  The U.S. Department of Justice knows who she is (in a good way.)  Her son has a "Jenny McCarthy didn't cure me" shirt.  And  best of all, she posts things like this for me to read on her Facebook page:

 http://www.theanchoronline.org/top-stories/2013/02/04/the-complete-idiots-guide-to-an-autistics-worst-allies/

Wendy, thank you for being more clever and interesting in a day than I could ever hope to be in a year.  Thank you for sharing articles that should be mandatory for all on Facebook.  Your Scooter stories keep me entertained and your empathetic ear keeps the isolation at bay.  If only you would take me to Hawaii. 

Jeremy

Jeremy is the head trainer at 4 Paws for Ability whom you can read about here:

http://4pawsforability.org/people-behind-4-paws/

Jeremy placed an amazing dog with us that has seriously changed the course of my life.  That is another thank you.  Today's thank you has to do with our newest family member. Here she is, Stella!

When I brought John Boy home 6 years ago, my other kids were, understandably, a little jealous.  Here was this totally amazing dog that could go everywhere with us and he belonged with Sam.  Don't get me wrong.  They were both very grateful that Sam had John Boy.  John Boy allowed us to go places and do things we had never been able to do before.  If autism was our prison, John Boy was the cell block key.  After the divorce, John Boy was the reason I could take my kids on trips and that we could do more things as a complete family on those trips.  Max and Josey fully understood and have always appreciated that.  But they have also always wanted a warm fuzzy something that was more of a family pet.  I told them they could have something after John Boy was settled into family life.  Then their dad and I got divorced.

My parents are wonderful people who allowed us to move into their home while I went back to grad school.  As Wonderful as they were about it, they had a limit to the number of living things I could bring with me.  Grad school ended.  I got the kids a turtle.  They love her, but she's no dog.  I have my own home now.  I knew it was time to make good on my promise.

There is a certain percentage of dogs that fail out of any service dog program.  I knew I didn't want the responsibility of a puppy with no training and unknown temperament.  I contacted Karen to see if 4 Paws had any service dog drop outs that might be good for us.  She checked with Jeremy who suggested a rescue dog that was never in the program at all.  A twenty something college grad begged her mom for a Lhasa Apso as her college graduation present.  Mom bought her the dog.  Then the young lady took a job overseas and gave up the dog.  Mom was not interested in a playful puppy.

I took John Boy and the kids up to 4 Paws on Saturday to meet our potential dog.  The kids didn't know that was the purpose of our visit.  Stella is a little sweetie with a fantastic disposition.  She intimidated John Boy a bit, which is hysterically funny since he weighs 80 pounds and she weighs 10.  But they have worked it out.  She needs to learn a few of our house rules with regard to who can sit on the couch and who can be in Sam's bed, but she is eager to please and already well loved. 

Jeremy, thanks for making another perfect match for our family.  You truly have a gift!

Mom, again

The fabulous Mr. L (also known as Matt) was in town tonight. I could not find a sitter.  Thank you mom for coming over on a cold Saturday night and watching Sam so I could have some time alone with Matt.

Gale

Thank for having us over for dinner on Ash Wednesday.  The mac n cheese was yummy....as always!

Dad

For as long as I can remember, my mom bought us a box of chocolate heart candies from Aglemesis every Valentine's Day.  It was always on the table when we got up in the morning.  Every year...except for one.

My mom has had back problems on and off most of her adult life.  When I was in high school, her back went into spasm mode and she was in bed for days, maybe weeks.  Over Valentine's Day.  That meant my dad was in charge.

My dad is an engineer.  When I say that, I mean an engineer to his very core.  If he had not gone to college and worked at GE, say he had become a farmer, he would be a farmer analyzing facts, making lists, and scheduling every minute of his farm loving day.  Those of you who know me, know I am not like that at all.  Those of you who know teenage high school girls can imagine how well Dad and I connected during that phase of my life.  Those differences are what makes that one Valentine's Day more memorable than any other.

My dad went out, and without any direction from my mom, went to one of my favorite stores and bought me a 100% silk scarf along with the box of chocolates.  My dad went to the mall FOR ME!!!!  I was so amazed and truly touched, that it will always be the most memorable Valentine's day gift ever.  More memorable than the necklaces, gold bracelets, watches, flowers, chocolates, and rings (engagement and otherwise) that have followed. 

That is why I am picking this day to say thank you to my dad.  Thank you for reading to me every night so that I learned to love books.  Thank you for helping me carve countless pumpkins and dye zillions of Easter eggs.  Thank you for making it to track meets, cross country meets, cheer leading and brain numbing dance recitals.  Thank you for convincing mom to give me another chance after a year of too much fun and not enough study at college as an undergrad.  Thank you for opening up your home to me and my kids when we needed someplace to stay.  Thank you for being so patient with Sam.  Thank you for being such a good role model for Max and Josey.  Thank you for too many things to ever list in a single blog post.  But most of all, thank you for giving me the Valentine's Day gift to end all gifts when I was an obnoxious, bratty, undeserving teenager.   

Officer

Always nice to meet local emergency personnel.  (Not in any of the ways I'm going to describe.)

In my first house, I met the fire department when we had lived there less than 3 years.  Smoke detectors went off.  I called the non-emergency number to ask if they might be malfunctioning.  They said, probably.  They would have to come check.  FYI "come check" means full lights, sirens and various emergency vehicles.  When you have two firetrucks, an ambulance and a police car parked outside your house, you will get to meet all the neighbors in the neighborhood. 

Second house, I was 8 months pregnant with Jo.  Sam was not yet diagnosed, but so way on the autism spectrum.  He had taken the separated laundry and thrown it from one end of my bedroom to the other.  Then he pulled all the books off my bookshelf and dumped my dresser drawers.  I decided we needed to get out.  At some point, I must have opened but not closed the front door.  When I got home, it was wide open.  In my pregnancy fog, I couldn't remember if I had tried to turn on the alarms, etc.  I called to see if there was an alarm tripped and explained why.  Guess what?  They send the police to your house for that too!  The officer and I were chatting about this and that walking through the house to make sure it was clear.  Then he opened the door to my bedroom.  He threw his arm out to "protect" me and reached for his gun.  Kind of embarrassing to have to explain, "Uh, no.  It's not ransacked.  That's pretty much how I left it this morning." 

Third house, Sam scaled a six foot privacy fence with a slide bolt and padlock.  Got to meet the police AND find out that our county has a search and rescue helicopter ready for just such an occasion.  Who knew?

Brings me to my current house.  Message on my answering machine a few weeks ago looking for somebody who shares my name.  I ignored the first message on the machine.  After the second, I called back to say right name, wrong person.  One more message, then a call when I was home and I picked up.  I explained I was not who they were looking for.  Please stop calling.  I assumed the person was an employee of the facility they were calling from.  Judging from the letter I just received that was sent to a previous address of mine, I'm guessing they are not an employee, but a "client."  This is why I will no longer be returning phone calls mistakenly left on my answering machine. 

Officer Z showed up.  I think he could tell I was a little freaked.  He took some information and left.  Then he called about 15 minutes later to say he tried to get information tonight, but couldn't.  He would call the facility tomorrow and then call me.  Still a little freaked, but glad he took it seriously. 

Thanks for the quick response Officer Z. 

Darren and Phyllis

Darren is another class of '88 fellow graduate.  If I am not mistaken, he was part of "Paul Shaffer Day."  The boys decided to coordinate wearing khaki's and an oxford shirt to honor Paul.  It seemed so very cool and clever at the time.  Right now, I have no idea why we thought so.  I know it's hard to believe that Darren could possibly top that, but he did and he has a picture from Seventeen Magazine headquarters to prove it. 

Darren started an organization called "Simon's Fund."  I have tried to explain how the fund came to be and what it does several times.  I am unable to do it justice.  Instead, I will direct you to their website.  

http://www.simonsfund.org/

Darren and Phyllis, when your own heart was breaking, you chose to protect the hearts of others.  I admire you more than words could express.  Thank you.  Paul Shaffer should be dressing like YOU and taking pictures.   

Mr. Johnson

(He is actually yet another Matt, but there are just too many to keep using that name.)

Sometimes, a teacher just happens to be a coach, which is fine.  Josey has a really good teacher who also happens to coach.  Sometimes, a coach just happens to be a teacher.  That usually doesn't go as well.  (A special ed teacher told me that, so I'm not being a mean mom.)

Max is working with a new teacher this year.  New to Max, new to the school.  Max mentioned he was some kind of coach.  You people know me.  I groaned then  googled him to find out what that was about and how concerned I should be. (Kind of like that Google can give me the same info I use to get at PTO meetings without having to change out of my jammies.  Although I do miss the baked goodies.) 

Last week, Max "misplaced" work more than once.  Mr. Johnson finally gave him a copy then SCANNED a copy and e-mailed it to me.  Good thing he did, because it was lost until I said "I have another copy," at which point, AMAZING GRACE, it was found.  That is like beyond teacher and well into thinking like a mom.  Nice call!

Mr. Johnson, thanks for being on top of things.

David

My brother is kind of a big deal at his job.  He was nice enough to look at and forward a resume at my request.  The person ended up being picked up by somebody else, but it was very nice of him to do it as a favor to me.  

Dave

Some people see a glass filled to the mid line and say it's half empty.  Some people look and call it half full.  Then there are people like Dave who grab the closest pitcher and do their best to make it overflow.

I have known Dave since Junior high when everyone thought he was kind of dorky.  I remember that some matchmaking service did a Valentine's thing where we all filled out questionnaires and then they told us who our matches were.  Just because someone was one of the best three matches for you, didn't mean you made their list.  Somebody else could have been a better match.  I do remember that Dave was one of my top three.  It was because we both put family as a high priority.  Isn't it weird what you remember?

By high school, Dave was a hot commodity.  We were all a little sorry we had ignored him in junior high.  I personally was sorry I hadn't saved the results from the matchmaking quiz!  He sat next to me in Gausman's History class.  I remember his cologne smelled so good, I failed many a quiz thanks to him!  Dave was known for drumming in a band.  Not THE band, like marching.  A band, the kind that is so way cool you can hardly stand it when your age ends with "teen."  Dave was also very artistic.  Ripped jeans were all the rage back then.  He took my favorite pair and painted them with a giant Mickey Mouse and other various creatures from his imagination.  He was always doing things like that for anybody who asked.  Band.  Artist.  Can you guess he was no longer a dork?  'Nough said about that.  Bad hair, bad clothes, bad behavior.  I know I try not to acknowledge much of my time between 18 and 22.  That was my "learn from your mistakes period."

Today, Dave is a toy maker, husband, and father.  Not necessarily in that order.  He is all about fun and being positive.  Even in his "non-dork" years he was never a cruel bully.  Always a sweetheart.  His wife is a doll.  His girls are cuties.  It's amazing how much focus kids can give you.  How much being a parent can push a person to be the best version of themselves.  Got to see it first hand today, which is always fun.  On top of that, I was asked to talk speechie stuff.  I love that. 

I was invited over to have what little is left of my brain picked about possible info for apps of an educational nature.  I have a lot to say about that.  I have printed, laminated, cut out and velcroed enough that I am seriously considering a major investment in office depot.  Loved getting the opportunity to share what I know about language development, data collection, and engaging all kinds of learners.  That was good.  Sam was invited to join me, that made it even better. 

HOLY COW!!!!  Dave's office and basement are like kid heaven.  I don't just mean those under the age of 18.  I mean the kid that lives in all of us.  If I hadn't had to get Sam back for a haircut, I could have spent two hours just looking at the vintage and collectors addition toys everywhere.  You know what, Star Wars really is cool.  There was pinball, Foosball, and an electronic Plinko, which Sam was allowed to play.  Dave turned on his grandfather's electric train for Sam, another big hit.  He has a disco ball for goodness sakes.  Do you know any child with autism who isn't crazy about colored lights bouncing off a disco ball?  But the absolute best thing of all, was that Dave let Sam play on his acoustic drum set.  (I think that's what he called it.)   It was such a hugely satisfying morning for Sam, that he was absolutely angelic at mass.  Passed out by 9:00. 

Dave, thanks for picking my brain and entertaining my kid to the point of exhausted good behavior.  And thank you for introducing me to your beautiful family.  Sam and I enjoyed it immensely. 

Susan

Love when I have no idea what I'm doing and somebody comes along to tell me exactly what I need to do instead. 

Susan, thanks for the resource.  I think it's a perfect match for my kiddo.

John

Back in 2006, I had a crazy idea.  Okay, I had crazy ideas before 2006 and long after, but this crazy was over the top crazy.  I had participated in a parent panel about autism.  One of the other moms said that she was looking into getting her son a service dog.  When I got home, I looked up the organization and knew I had to get Sam a dog.  This place trained dogs to track down "their kid" when they wandered.  My mom said it was the dumbest thing I had ever come up with.  My mom can say that with authority, because she has been present for many of my stupid ideas.  After she observed a training class, she turned to me with tears in her eyes and said she was on board 100%. 

The place that trained John Boy, Sam's service dog, uses a Habitat for Humanity approach to placing dogs.  The cost of training a service dog is about $30,000.  Nope, I didn't mistakenly add an extra 0.  That is the real cost.  Many organizations place dogs with no obligation on the family's part.  I applaud those places and am happy for those recipients.  The organization that placed John Boy with us, asks that families take part in fundraising.  I was asked to raise $12,000.  Some people hear that and gasp at the amount.  I was happy for the opportunity to do it because I knew that I could raise awareness at the same time.  In 2006, autism was not on everyone's lips the way it is today.  I wanted that to change. 

With my goal in mind, I started my own one woman little media blitz.  I was interviewed by the local T.V. news.  I set up a website and did mailings.  Friends sponsored a raffle and walk.  I even participated in a community garage sale in a town 45 minutes away.  What really helped me not just reach my goal, but exceed it by $6,000 was an article in the Enquirer. 

John wanted to do a "day in the life" kind of story about a family dealing with autism.  I can't even remember now the details of how he found us.  Or we found him.  I just know he spent far more than a day with us.  It can be kind of intimidating to give a stranger access to your personal life.  Especially when there are parts you can barely look at yourself.  John was wonderfully respectful of me and all of my children.  He spent countless hours with us.  He joined us at Target, the mall, speech therapy appointments and even a family dinner.  In some ways it was emotionally draining.  In many ways it was truly cathartic.  The article is a full page that captured a very challenging time in our family's history.  I had the article framed.  It's actually kind of huge.  When we moved into my parents' house, there simply wasn't room for it.  It spent 5 years in storage, patiently waiting to be remembered.

When I retrieved it on moving day this past summer, I had kind of forgotten about it.  Not that it existed, but what it said.  More than that, I had forgotten the details of my life.  When I hung it on the wall, I stood back and read the article again for the first time in many years.  It made me cry.  I wasn't sad for myself.  I was sad for the family in the article and the struggles they had.  The child in the article who is nothing like the one I live with today.  Then I thought of all the changes that have taken place since the article was published.  The fact that I am now part of the greater than 85% divorce rate of families with autism.  I no longer live in that home where Sam used to get lost in cabinets, closets and, on one occasion, the dryer.  I have helped develop protocols used not only at our local hospital, but also used in trainings in other pediatric hospitals around the country.  The speech therapist in one of the photos is now my co-worker because I became a speech therapist too.  I was interviewed on CNN.  I met the love of my life along with other countless amazing people.  Best of all, now when Sam runs, it's because we're exercising, NOT because he's bolted away.

Sam toured the high school today with the rest of the 8th grade class.  He had a huge smile on his face the entire time I asked him questions.  Later in the evening, I passed the article and thought again just how far Sam has come.  How far we have all come.  I'm so thankful that I have that article to capture those memories and remind me how lucky I am.  How much hard work we have all put into the life we have today.  How worth it that work has been. 

John, over 5 years later, I am still so thankful you picked our family.

Mom, again

If you are ready for a deeply emotional story of gratefulness....sorry.  Not today.  Unless you have strong emotional feelings about shoelaces and hair care.

Mom, thanks for going to Dick's to get shoelaces for Sam.  I also appreciate you picking up that vat of hair goop from the stylist.  I owe you.  (And I'm sure you will give me the necessary receipts to prove it!)

Gale

Before there was the fabulous Mr. L, there was Matt my brother in law. I have now known him over half my life.  He is more brother than brother in law.   He has been handy man, babysitter, and when needed, stand in dad.   By the time Josey was 5, she would automatically say "Uh-oh.  We better call Uncle Matt" anytime anything broke.  Here is one of many Matt to the rescue stories:

Sam use to love to play in water so much, that he would make his own indoor swimming pools at home.  His favorite was the sink in the 2nd floor bathroom.  That door was typically kept locked for that reason.  One evening, I had been meeting with some specialist at my home.  I didn't realize the upstairs bathroom door had been left open.  Not until I heard a "drip, drip, drip" in the garage.  When I opened the door, there was a waterfall pouring through the ceiling.  After I turned off the water, I called Matt.  "I need you to come over." 

He asked, "Can't it wait until I'm finished eating?"  To which I replied, "WAHHHHH!!!!!!"  then explained between sobs that the drywall was drooping.  Matt came over immediately, although really, what was he going to do at that point that couldn't wait until dinner was over?  While we were trying to decide how to approach the problem, the drywall and insulation cascaded onto my car in a soggy pink heap.  Matt pulled out my car, wet/dry vacuumed the floor, and adjusted the insulation that remained to allow for better ventilation and drying. 

When the kids' dad moved out and I was forced to sell the house, Matt was the one who helped repair the damage from Sam's rampages.  He located every Woody, Buzz, and Jesse as well as Thomas and all his friends that Sam had tossed in the duct work.  I was able to sell the house quickly for less of a loss than if I had put it on the market with holes in the walls.  Sam was able to bring his beloved possessions with him. 

With all this nice stuff about Matt, why is Gale in the title?  Because if she hadn't had the good sense to marry such a good man, I wouldn't have these stories to tell. 

Gale, thanks for marrying Matt so that I could have the most fabulous brother in law EVER!!!!!! 

Fr. Schmitz

I guess technically, I could say "another dude with a beard," but I'm pretty sure that would be frowned upon by somebody.

Saturday was the laziest of lazy days for me.  The kids and I did nothing but lay around in jammies, watching bad T.V. all day.  It was the perfect day to find any lame excuse for staying inside.  The fact that it was cold and snowy made leaving the house that much harder and the excuse seem that less lame.  I am very sorry to say, I did consider blowing off evening mass for more than a minute.  It was Super Bowl weekend.  I'm sure I would not have been the only one.  My better judgement prevailed. 

I was happy I did because I thought the homily was particularly good.  It was so good that when I asked Max, "What was the homily about?" he could actually tell me with details.  I'm sorry, but I think that's pretty high praise.  Not sure if you will enjoy as much as I did, but you can make up your mind yourself.

http://www.good-shepherd.org/media.html

Fr. Schmitz, thanks for delivering a particularly good homily on a dreary Saturday evening.

Dude with a beard

When Sam was 6 and still an autism wild child, we were asked to leave Kenwood mall when we tried, unsuccessfully, to buy Sam a new pair of shoes.  Over the last nine years, he has made substantial progress in shoe shopping.  He now actually enjoys getting a new pair that look nothing like the previous pair.  This is a very good thing since buying Sam shoes is still a production.   

Sam has flat wide feet.  He is in the smaller range for men's shoes.  Stores carry few styles in those sizes and even fewer in a wide.  I decided that since he is now marathon man, okay, almost one mile man, he should have actual running shoes.  I'm worried about that combination of low muscle tone and pronation causing future knee problems if he doesn't have the right shoes.  Of course, the hipster factor is paramount.  Just because somebody has a disability, doesn't mean they don't want to be stylish.  It certainly doesn't mean they want to be dressed like a dork.

First store was cheap shoes, sweet staff, wides in a definitely uncool style that didn't fit quite right.  Next store was a giant sporting goods store, with clueless staff and zero selection.  I humiliated Josey by yelling "HELOOOOOO! (Store name) staff person needed in shoes!" because nobody could be found in the surrounding three departments.  When I finally spotted and flagged down a guy from the front of the store, he told us that wides aren't made in sizes larger than 8.5 even though I could clearly see them on the shelves in random sizes above a 10.  I suggested he look on the on-line kiosk.  No luck there either, which was probably for the best because again, they were not cool.  If Josey says I can't wear mom jeans, Sam cannot go to school in dad shoes.

We were just about to go to Ronker's, when I remembered that Buckeye Running Company was just around the corner.  The young man who helped us may have said his name, I probably just wasn't paying attention.  He did have a beard.  He suggested we try Adidis because they are just a wider shoe.  Hallelujah!  He was right.  On top of that, they are bright yellow.  Surprisingly, this is a very chic color for junior high boys and not the least bit dad-like.

Buckeye salesperson dude with a beard....thank you for taking the time to listen to our concerns and find the right pair of shoes.  I particularly appreciated the fact that you took the time to start by looking at the cheapest ones first and hung in there with us until we found the right ones. 

Dana

Last Spring I was searching for a home in our current school district that was big enough for the kids and I but not too big for my budget.  Pickings were slim.  I scoured the real estate websites for months, feeling like Goldilocks.  This one was too small.  That one was too big.  But then I found one that seemed like a maybe.  I toured it with my real estate agent.  Good bones.  Right area.  Decent price.  Not 100% sure it was for me. I noticed there was an open house the next day.  I decided to check it out again.  Turned out the real estate agent selling the house was also the next door neighbor.  I talked to Dana for some time and heard all about the rest of the neighbors.  What I have learned over the course of owning four homes is that the neighborhood and neighbors are just as important as the house.   After talking to Dana, I knew this mama bear had found a house that was just right.

Today it snowed.  Hadn't bought a snow shovel yet.  Dana was kind enough to lend one to Max so he could shovel our driveway.   It's good to have nice neighbors.  Thanks for the shovel. 

Rose

By any other name....Would be Miss E. 

Two years ago, Sam started at the Jr. High.  His time there is coming to an end.  I could write a thousand words about what Sam has learned since he started in Rose's class.  But I will talk about just this one thing...

Every morning when we are leaving for work and school, Sam holds the door open for me.  Snow, rain, freezing cold, it doesn't matter.  He will not get in the car until I am finished locking up and ready to go to the car with him.  It's a very small gesture. If you have never had a doctor tell you that your child has a disability characterized by impaired social interactions and the inability to empathize, you would probably not think much of it after the first two or three times.  For me, it is a reminder at the beginning of each day just how far Sam has come. 

Rose, thank you for teaching Sam to be a gentleman.