This viral video is a continuous shot of the streets of Grand Rapids Michigan, filled with a variety of residents who take turns lip syching to a great live recording of Don McLean's immortal classic American Pie.
Even if you don't happen to know every. single. word. of this spectacular song by heart...
Even if you don't happen to be an Illinois alum from the pre-1994 era who reflexively inserts "at O'Malley's!" at the end of every chorus...
Even if you don't happen to be a Marching Illini Fossil who's stood in the middle of a bar clutching your squad mates while screaming 'the marching band refused to yield' bit into cheap beers...
Even if singing and dancing the aforementioned O'Malley's version with your fellow alumns wasn't the high point of your wedding reception...
This video full of ordinary folks having a good time can't help but make you smile. (Thanks to geekmom.com for turning me onto it.)
Swing Time
Monday, May 2, 2011
Took this shortly after the swing bracket was installed in his playroom. I feel so lucky to have this as a regular part of his sensory diet.
Improvising Easter
Saturday, April 23, 2011
I grew up in a staunchly Catholic family, so my childhood memories of Easter are of big, joyous family meals with all my aunts and uncles and cousins packed into my Grandma & Grandpa's cute little house. The day really got started once Grandpa drove 6 blocks to bring Great Grams to preside over the whole thing.
When Grandpa passed away, it all stopped. That's how I learned my quiet, sentimental Grandpa was the driving force behind those big family gatherings that made the best memories of my childhood. Turns out, Grandma didn't really like to cook.
Now we've got to decide how to do this for Bear, and it's not easy. And not just because we live hours from our families. I still respect the holidays I was raised to observe, regardless of my atheism. I always assumed we'd decide how to celebrate them for Bear in our own time, in our own way.
We weren't even going to bother with the Easter Bunny this year. (Or any year, really, if we could avoid it.) I figured a quiet brunch and some quality time with his grandparents would be a lovely way to spend the holiday.
What I didn't count on was other people. Seriously, what is it with adults that they can't resist asking a small child if they are going to an Easter Egg Hunt and/or if the Easter Bunny is going to bring them candy?!
And while I'm on the subject.... what is it with Americans' inexplicable need to scare the bejeezus out of our kids with holiday costumes?
Anyway.
It was bad enough at Christmas with people incessantly asking Bear when he was going to visit Santa. (Uuuuum, no. If you wanna take my antisocial SPD kid to the mall to stand in a long line of spoiled brats with deafening carols piped in to complement the blinding bedecking of the hallowed retail halls, go for it. Just let me get some popcorn and a good seat to watch the show. )
Since my feelings about Easter are much more in line with its Pagan origins, that's where we started with Bear. We talked about how it's getting warm because winter is done, and how much we like the flowers and trees growing again. Then I told him Easter is a celebration (which he decided means "having a party") of how happy we are that it's springtime.
I threw in the Easter Bunny as an aside, that he's a little bit like Santa Claus and sometimes brings a present.
Since I could barely get my act together enough to deal with making brunch tomorrow, there was no way I was going to manufacture an Easter basket. Not that the OCD people who live in my head would allow a pile of cheap candy, messy plastic grass and Made In China bunny-themed tchotchkes in the house anyway.
A few months ago I paired a coupon with a great sale and scored a big pile of wooden train accessories we've been using as rewards for months. Been saving the roundhouse because even the cheap generic one is still a pretty big gift, wasn't sure when it would be right to give it to him.
Which is to say, I guess the Easter Bunny is bringing a roundhouse. Hope it fits in his basket.
When Grandpa passed away, it all stopped. That's how I learned my quiet, sentimental Grandpa was the driving force behind those big family gatherings that made the best memories of my childhood. Turns out, Grandma didn't really like to cook.
Now we've got to decide how to do this for Bear, and it's not easy. And not just because we live hours from our families. I still respect the holidays I was raised to observe, regardless of my atheism. I always assumed we'd decide how to celebrate them for Bear in our own time, in our own way.
 |
| What kids see. |
What I didn't count on was other people. Seriously, what is it with adults that they can't resist asking a small child if they are going to an Easter Egg Hunt and/or if the Easter Bunny is going to bring them candy?!
And while I'm on the subject.... what is it with Americans' inexplicable need to scare the bejeezus out of our kids with holiday costumes?
Anyway.
It was bad enough at Christmas with people incessantly asking Bear when he was going to visit Santa. (Uuuuum, no. If you wanna take my antisocial SPD kid to the mall to stand in a long line of spoiled brats with deafening carols piped in to complement the blinding bedecking of the hallowed retail halls, go for it. Just let me get some popcorn and a good seat to watch the show. )
Since my feelings about Easter are much more in line with its Pagan origins, that's where we started with Bear. We talked about how it's getting warm because winter is done, and how much we like the flowers and trees growing again. Then I told him Easter is a celebration (which he decided means "having a party") of how happy we are that it's springtime.
 |
| WTF does Spongebob have to do with Easter? |
I threw in the Easter Bunny as an aside, that he's a little bit like Santa Claus and sometimes brings a present.
Since I could barely get my act together enough to deal with making brunch tomorrow, there was no way I was going to manufacture an Easter basket. Not that the OCD people who live in my head would allow a pile of cheap candy, messy plastic grass and Made In China bunny-themed tchotchkes in the house anyway.
A few months ago I paired a coupon with a great sale and scored a big pile of wooden train accessories we've been using as rewards for months. Been saving the roundhouse because even the cheap generic one is still a pretty big gift, wasn't sure when it would be right to give it to him.Which is to say, I guess the Easter Bunny is bringing a roundhouse. Hope it fits in his basket.
Pictures of Progress
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
With all the madness surrounding the holidays and Bear's birthday and EI transition and IEP, a lot of things fell behind, not the least of which was managing photos. I was sorting through some of the backlog today and it hit me these were taken a year to the day of his SPD diagnosis. It was less than a month before he turned 3.
To the average viewer this may look like any other boy playing outside on any other day.
But what I see is so overwhelming it brought me to tears. Because while this was just another random weekday in our hectic lives... looking back to the way things used to be, I can honestly say it's the kind of day it felt like we'd never get to have.
I see...
... a little boy who can tolerate a breeze on his skin, who asks for sunglasses instead of cowering and crying from the light, and who can now stand to wear those sunglasses. (And who reaaallly appreciates the trampoline his Mawgie got him when Mommy and Daddy couldn't afford it!)
I see...
... a little boy willing to tolerate an unfamiliar textured ball, organized enough to create a game to play with it on the trampoline (it's called Kick Bounce!) and calm enough to pause for a photograph.
I see...
... a little boy who's social, emotional and communication delays made us sit on the fence for a year while his doctors debated if he was autistic pretending that his lawnmower is a race car, zooming joyfully around the yard while telling me about the imaginary race.
Reporting this emerging pretend play to his pediatric neurologist at his semi-annual appointment just a few days later meant the world to me, and the enormous smile on the doctor's face told me everything I needed to know.
My friends and family constantly make fun of me for always having a camera in hand. Nobody wants to hear the truth - that it's so easy to get lost in how hard it is every day with Bear that I overlook the good stuff. I started taking lots of pictures to help me remember that we really did have good times, and what, exactly, they were.
When you're exhausted and the house is a mess and you're rushing from speech to OT to preschool, it's really hard to notice - let alone appreciate - incremental progress. And it's sooo easy to get discouraged. I'm happy that my camera addiction gives me wonderful surprises like this, because it shows me beyond a doubt all the hard work is worth it.
To the average viewer this may look like any other boy playing outside on any other day.
But what I see is so overwhelming it brought me to tears. Because while this was just another random weekday in our hectic lives... looking back to the way things used to be, I can honestly say it's the kind of day it felt like we'd never get to have.
I see...
... a little boy who can tolerate a breeze on his skin, who asks for sunglasses instead of cowering and crying from the light, and who can now stand to wear those sunglasses. (And who reaaallly appreciates the trampoline his Mawgie got him when Mommy and Daddy couldn't afford it!)
I see...
... a little boy willing to tolerate an unfamiliar textured ball, organized enough to create a game to play with it on the trampoline (it's called Kick Bounce!) and calm enough to pause for a photograph.
I see...
... a little boy who's social, emotional and communication delays made us sit on the fence for a year while his doctors debated if he was autistic pretending that his lawnmower is a race car, zooming joyfully around the yard while telling me about the imaginary race.
Reporting this emerging pretend play to his pediatric neurologist at his semi-annual appointment just a few days later meant the world to me, and the enormous smile on the doctor's face told me everything I needed to know.
My friends and family constantly make fun of me for always having a camera in hand. Nobody wants to hear the truth - that it's so easy to get lost in how hard it is every day with Bear that I overlook the good stuff. I started taking lots of pictures to help me remember that we really did have good times, and what, exactly, they were.
When you're exhausted and the house is a mess and you're rushing from speech to OT to preschool, it's really hard to notice - let alone appreciate - incremental progress. And it's sooo easy to get discouraged. I'm happy that my camera addiction gives me wonderful surprises like this, because it shows me beyond a doubt all the hard work is worth it.
Maybe We Need to Get Out More
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Bear recently merged some of his favorite toys into this charming little mashup.
My take on it: "Jurassic Sodor"
My husband's comment: "Looks like the Dinosaur Train took the Time Tunnel to Knapford Station."
It was a fun little Saturday night. (We seriously need to get out more.)
My take on it: "Jurassic Sodor"
My husband's comment: "Looks like the Dinosaur Train took the Time Tunnel to Knapford Station."
It was a fun little Saturday night. (We seriously need to get out more.)
One for the Dating Humiliation File
Thursday, February 17, 2011
There is nothing about this picture I don't love. And I will feel the same way one day in the future when he brings home that first love and I get to whip it out for them.
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| Playing the Wii fit obstacle course game |
Making Change
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
I came up with this activity in another one of those random blechy weather stuck inside moments of momspiration.
We happen to have a jar we keep change in and we happened to get a couple of piggy banks as baby gifts ages ago. Until Bear showed an interest in the piggies on his shelf, I'd nearly forgotten we had them.
Since Bear has issues with weak grip, focus and impulsivity, these are the activities I came up with...
- digging hands through the change
- scooping & pouring the change
- sorting change into colors and sizes
- feeling/discussing the differences (e.g. smooth vs. ridged edges)
- putting change into the banks (endless options to challenge them, based on ability)
I tried to have him put the "brown" change into one bank and the silver change into another, but he just wasn't having it. When he's older I plan to have him sort by size, denomination, etc.
I decided to be happy that he was happy putting the change into the piggies at will. Who knows, maybe it helped work on his processing issues (some days he can't make a simple decision to save his life).
For what it's worth, he liked it enough that now he asks to play with coins every time he notices the piggies. Challenge now is saving up enough change to make it worthwhile!
Side note: If you don't have a piggy bank you can cut a slit in the top of an empty plastic food container to put the coins in (think round plastic bowls with lids like from cottage cheese). I keep one of these impromptu banks by the washer for the "tips" that fall out of my husband's pockets.
We happen to have a jar we keep change in and we happened to get a couple of piggy banks as baby gifts ages ago. Until Bear showed an interest in the piggies on his shelf, I'd nearly forgotten we had them.
Since Bear has issues with weak grip, focus and impulsivity, these are the activities I came up with...
- digging hands through the change
- scooping & pouring the change
- sorting change into colors and sizes
- feeling/discussing the differences (e.g. smooth vs. ridged edges)
- putting change into the banks (endless options to challenge them, based on ability)
I tried to have him put the "brown" change into one bank and the silver change into another, but he just wasn't having it. When he's older I plan to have him sort by size, denomination, etc.
I decided to be happy that he was happy putting the change into the piggies at will. Who knows, maybe it helped work on his processing issues (some days he can't make a simple decision to save his life).
For what it's worth, he liked it enough that now he asks to play with coins every time he notices the piggies. Challenge now is saving up enough change to make it worthwhile!
Side note: If you don't have a piggy bank you can cut a slit in the top of an empty plastic food container to put the coins in (think round plastic bowls with lids like from cottage cheese). I keep one of these impromptu banks by the washer for the "tips" that fall out of my husband's pockets.
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