Dancing Forward

"Neurodiversity" and a Radical Unschooling Autism Mama

2011-12-12T13:04:00.000-08:00

It's my hope that those reading along with my blog for a while will have a better understanding of what autism is now, from a radical unschooler's perspective. There was a recent wonderful article "The Obsessive Joy of Autism" on a site supporting the term "neurodiversity." This expression has many underlying meanings, and it underpins the website which published this article. The article itself says so much, and with an economy of language, it's remarkable. I hope everybody reads it, because everybody needs to know this information.

However, if you wandered around the site itself, you might be having some questions, or maybe not. In any case, when it comes to understanding autism, there is a sharp division between those who approach autism from the biomedical side and those who take an approach based on the concept of the neurodiversity movement.

Neurodiversity means exactly what it sounds like it means. Diverse neurologies make up planet Earth, and none are necessarily superior to others, each offering its own unique gift. The Neurodiversity movement, however, has a whole political tack, one that is not at all diverse in its alignment; one that insists that autism is purely a genetic condition, and there are no biological components other than genetics involved. It therefore concludes that any parent who incorporates special diets, supplementation or any other biomedical support for their child is doing their child harm.

It's the same incorrect song some highly narrow minded radical unschoolers tend to use - that this somehow damages the child, makes the child feel broken, in need of fixing, and so forth. Perhaps this would be true to some degree in a schooling paradigm, where there is control and coercion and manipulation present. But children do get better with biomedical support, regardless of whether there are people who don't want this to be true. And children can tell (and suddenly often tell you because they have words now) that they are doing better, simply by gaining a bunch of language suddenly, or not screaming after eating food, or when hearing music, or when touching or being touched.

The neurodiversity movement takes it one step farther, to seriously accuse and vilify parents who identify and treat the illness component of their children's autism, even in the face of resulting marked improvements.

In principle, I have not a quibble whatsoever with the idea of neurodiversity as a living real concept among all human beings. What I have trouble with is that the neurodiversitists (and some unschoolers) who know nothing of the biology of autism, people who I largely support and believe in, are making these judgments without any knowledge and based on a bias coming from their own internal stigmas.

There is nothing wrong with having autism. There is nothing wrong with recognizing it as an illness, because it is. And there is nothing wrong with supporting your child in healing from that illness. Learn just a little about the deeply complex biology that makes up autism before deciding you know what is right for everyone.

So, sadly, I can see where radical unschoolers might find neurodiversity conceptually very attractive toward fitting within the unschooling paradigm -- where two such narrow views of autism would dovetail quite nicely. However, as good a fit as it might seem, embracing the neurodiversity movement means eschewing acknowledgement of the reality of autism's underlying illness (non genetic). This leaves those of us who have actual evidence, from noninvasive tests, of the biomarkers of such illness that result in or underly autism, on the outside, no matter where we turn.

Parents like us, who are choosing to partner with their children on a journey of healing, aren't trying to change, fix or destroy who their children are. On the contrary, most of us want our children to be able to experience more pleasurable times, more laughter, more connection, more fun. Nobody is trying to change or alter anybody here, and that is where the movement takes a sharp right turn that I cannot follow. If my child is in pain after eating a glutenous food, writhing on the floor, ears and face bright red and inflamed, skin burning, shrieking wordlessly and avoiding all contact and touch, screaming at the faintest sound of another voice or the whine of a lightbulb, this isn't about him being just who he is. This about him hurting. And I'm his mother. And I am going to the ends of the earth to try to make him hurt less, laugh more, and this is as who he is NOW. Not as some kid I wish I had. This isn't a remake, this is helping the original heal.

Every parent of a child with autism spends some time mourning the child they thought they would have, but didn't. This is not isolated to autism, but to many atypicalities that are so common in this day and age. We need to allow ourselves that mourning, and then we need to pick ourselves up and look at the child we DO have. Once you do that, you realize you wouldn't change anything about the sweet, loyal, honest, trusting beautiful child you have in your arms. It is an evolution. And biomedical is an important part of that evolution. Children who don't receive biomedical support generally do not recover, those who do, can recover, but as I have said in a previous post, you don't "cure" it. You can't cure being hit by a truck either.

So while I fully support neurodiversity as an idea, the idea that autism is purely genetic and cannot be treated in any fashion and that doing so hurts children is simply not true if you are careful and intelligent and you don't buy into the snake oil out there, but seek out the real science. There's a ton of it now. Not only do I have clear cut (hair and pee) evidence from my own children and myself, there is a vast compilation of science right there in pubmed showing that children afflicted with severe autism show an array of biological illnesses from leaky gut to blood-brain barrier (BBB) permeability, and so much more underlying it (mitochondria, anyone?)

To suggest that parents like myself and others who have immensely helped our children by adding the biomedical piece to the puzzle are harming our kids is as far from the real truth as it gets. And it's hurtful, probably unintentionally. It's also wrong. And medical doctors are no help at all around autism (this topic is another article). In fact, doctors often tend to be highly uncomfortable with autism, especially a decade ago, when my boys were little, it was highly stigmatized, and doctors who ended up with children with autism were outcasts and scared into being quiet about anything diet or supplements might have helped -- I know personally, having met several of them in my many years of study.

I believe in neurodiversity profoundly, my children have shown me that from right early on. I also believe that helping a child with autism feel better so they can eat and speak and form thoughts and use their frontal lobes to be able to get what they want in NO way detracts from who that child is. That child can be MORE themselves when feeling better. That child is a fully fledged human being, and if that child is in pain and has biomarkers for ridiculous mercury retention and low glutathione (heavy metal remover in all of us), and their gut and BBB are permeable and there is a live attenuate virus from a vaccine in their gut, that child is sick and hurting and can't tell you so, and to them it becomes the ordinary way of being. We help? Or we sit and wait?

I help. I learn. I study, for years. I try. It starts working! My child is excited and happy to be alive again instead of hiding with his ears covered under his table. Not just words, but sentences come tumbling out. So I keep learning. I keep helping. And in the process, both my children, each on their own, begin partnering, naturally, because it's just what we've been doing since they were so little, and before they could speak anyway, it's normal to them. When they object, we don't push. They (and we) learn they don't feel well when we stop. They decide they want the supplements, the nutritional shake, the essential fatty acids, and they become aware of what everything does. They become their own brilliant advocates. It becomes a true partnership.

I am deeply saddened that the neurodiversity movement would view people like myself as doing wrong. Even though they keep trying and can't come up with a genetic reason for autism, the movement overall still believes it is purely genetic. And yes, the predisposition to autism is probably genetic to some degree. The catch there is that genes are not written in stone and toxins, especially heavy metals, especially mercury, are mutagenic. It is impossible, scientifically (and bad science overall) to attempt to draw the line between what is actually genetic and what is mutagenic response. It is far more complex than a line, if you bother to actually look at all the science out there now.

I celebrate autism and neurodiversity and radical unschooling. They all work fine together, thank you very much, in my brain. And even now when my kids don't feel right, they actively seek me out, and we partner to help them regain their feelings of wellbeing. In fact, Ethan recently needed to start taking digestive enzymes again for certain foods -- he's at that bottle chewing those things up all by himself. He's also asking for kefir water and extra magnesium. And that's because he knows from experience how much better he feels with all that on board.

It's all such a complex, political, difficult-to-talk-about, stigmatized, confusing, multiple-sided web we weave around autism. This is on top of the stigma from mainstream society. Autism is one of the most politically charged illnesses that has come around in a long time. People are just beginning to acknowledge that part of it. But there are storehouses that show again and again, it's a biological condition, not a genetic or a "mental" illness. It's time for the neurodiversitists and all others who find fault or discomfort with the topic of autism to actually take a good hard unbaised look at the science before sticking their feet in their mouths.

In Love&Light&Awareness,

~~Mim

Unschooling with Autism: A Peek Under the Label

2011-10-19T21:40:00.000-07:00

I have observed there's a hugely complex issue underlying the apparently straight forward "labels are bad" issue and the stigma that it ends up bringing into unschooling discussions. People have assigned the word "label" as a villainous (and nebulous) "thing" that makes parents suddenly start not seeing their real child, and makes them suddenly conform to what so called "experts" advise them, completely diverge from trusting themselves. Like some sort of light switch, all of this negativity is associated with this thing we refer to as a label, but what's below it is what's missing from the unschooling discussions.

What is really happening is that people either ARE or are NOT connected on a partnership level with their children. The assumption is that all people who utilize a label tool are committing terrible things against the learning and self-esteem of their child, without taking any underlying connections or lack thereof into account.

It's about connecting with your kid. Really connecting with your kid, seeing your real whole complete kid and embracing him or her just that way, forgetting assessments and advice (even from unschoolers) and making sure that your relationship with your child is the highest priority. A label canNOT mess you up if you are seeing, hearing, understanding, unconditionally loving, respecting, partnering and maintaining connection with your child. A label can only mess you up if you aren't doing those things. And if you aren't doing those things, unschooling won't thrive, even without a label.

A label isn't magic snake oil that works an evil spell on parents. And it isn't an evil spell on children unless their parents convey in some way to them that it's wrong, which is exactly what is conveyed by hiding information from them. If, in the parents' minds, it has to be kept secret, then, as the children see it, it has to be wrong. Digging down deep, it's not even about the label at all, it's about the parent and how they see their child.

Dancing forward, unschooling with autism, staying connected,

~~Mim

The Left Hand of Unschooling (With Autism)

2011-10-17T18:50:00.000-07:00

Among the things we all say we treasure the most as unschoolers are those things that distinguish ourselves and our children from others. We celebrate each person's unique gifts, all of which combine to offer the unschooling community a rich tapestry of variety and depth. This is why it strikes me as such a contradiction that parents with kids who have a diagnosis need to speak in low voices about our singular and unique lives so as not to confuse the newbies in the group by indicating in any way that getting a diagnosis is the right thing to do in any situation, period. Even if it opens doors and offers quality assistance at the discretion of the parents and the child, and offers resources, access to events, or opportunities, or life experiences that some kids might not be comfortable doing any other way.

I am not enjoying the whispering much anymore. It's been four conferences going on five now, closing in on eight years of radical unschooling, and five to six years of being quiet on the lists so as not to broach the diagnosis topic or appear to be asking for attention or pity. I kept quiet in blind faith in order to support the idea that many unschoolers seem to hold sacred -- that labels are bad in pretty much every single case -- despite what it was doing my my psyche. I am now following my heart on this instead, writing it all down here in the hopes that some will understand and that others who feel similarly will understand that they are not alone on this journey.

Because I got so tired of being silent and tired of the fear of being misunderstood about my position on it, I left just about all of the lists. I figured, what's the point? There is no place on there for me. So, yeah… Understanding would be nice about now.

In our unique and singular lives we wish to celebrate the most within and with the unschooling community.

Among my dad's 25 books, he wrote one called "Diary of a Left-Handed Birdwatcher." He identified with being left-handed, a "label" which was still a thing early in the 20th century. He loved this about himself, it contributed a part to the complexity of his wholeness, added to what made him unique and gave him a different experience in the world than all his right-handed cohorts. He even identified with the stigma that went along with being left-handed when he was a boy in the 20s and 30s. He scribbled in illegible poet code to the day he died with his left arm curled around a paper tipped for right-handers. It was part of his identity throughout his life. He drew strength from it, celebrated it, and never wanted to change it.

On the other hand, my mother, who was a writer in her own right, and also left-handed, felt the same pressures and stigma but responded much differently. She was two years my father's senior, they both grew up during the great depression. My mother was an only child, very attractive, and desperate for affection and attention, as my grandmother was apparently quite emotionally detached. In striking contrast to my father, who relished his differences, my mother did not. Most of all *her* mother did not, and believed it was a sign of the devil to be left-handed. So my mother's left-handedness was hidden. She was secretly trained to write perfect cursive with her right hand. And she mastered it. Her cursive writing was flawless, perfect to a tee, she even dropped the "7s" below the line, just like old cursive scripts did -- and without character beyond the perfection of the writing itself -- she could've been a freehand printer. She never wrote again with her left hand. She needle-worked with her left hand, chopped vegetables with it, painted with it and shook the finger of her left hand at us when she was angry. But she never wrote with it again. Not even for her short stories which she wrote at times throughout her adult life because she lost all ability to write at all with her left hand.

If my children love and identify with their autism, how exactly is that harmful to them? If they love their differences, understand and respect those differences, and stand up to those who would judge those differences, is that not a strength, instead of a weakness? Why, then, in unschooling circles is it all but taboo to refer to various aspects of their autism that might make our lives really truly a bit different from yours? Why is this frowned upon in the underlying currents of radical unschooling? Could it be to make others more comfortable to not have to acknowledge differences in others? Because from where I stand, this is how it is feeling. Isn't unschooling at least in part about strengthening those differences in a way so they will assist and empower your child further to pursue his/her passions?

When something is hidden it only becomes more stigmatized. When it is allowed in the open air, it can become a great potential for strength and individuality, as it did for my father. If hidden, it becomes a source of shame and disregard, something to conquer and be far away from, like it did for my mother.

We live with autism and we unschool. We love both of these bits of our unique identities. Radical unschoolers, in reaction, perhaps, to how the school paradigm has stigmatized and pathologized children with the use of labels, are by default robbing us of our right to our own identity, our unique lives and the shared experiences of others who also have autism, when we are dismissed and criticized for discussing diagnoses and unschooling in the same breath, in the same circles.

Our lives are different. Different doesn't equal bad. It equals different. Different doesn't mean "can't unschool." Different doesn't mean defective or wrong. Not acknowledging these differences sends a message of defective or wrong to the person who is living with the differences. This does not flow with the idea of unschooling. Understanding our differences well, and honoring them is what unschooling, it seems to me, is really in part about. Which is why it is so puzzling that those of us who have true open and out there differences should have to hide the cause of those differences. It feels very backwards indeed to me. If I say or my kids say "autism" and you are uncomfortable with it, that feeling is a reflection of you, not me or my kids.

Will anybody move forward with us, leave the stigma at the door and invite us to "dance?"

Dancing Forward, as always,

~~Mim

Unschooling: The Myth of the "Broken Child"

2011-10-06T18:08:00.000-07:00

There is a real misconception among many unschoolers that a parent who sees a child as "different" is, by definition, trying to "fix" a "broken" child. This idea is an outgrowth of the schooling paradigm and feels very out of place in unschooling environments, where one would assume nobody thinks of their child or any other child as broken. This idea of a broken child has an old and fetid history based largely on misunderstanding and lack of knowledge.

There isn't a child on this planet who is "broken."

There are, however, plenty of children who are sick. Many whose bodies are burdened with heavy metals and other environmental toxins, because we live in a highly toxic world. Each successive generation carries more toxins on to the next and hence more toxic "pre-poisoning"of our babies in utero. Babies are being born with heavy body burdens and they are not equipped to handle such a burden. Many are then exposed to even more intense environmental insult. It is unmistakably, slowly and steadily making us sicker with each successive generation.

This has been going on since the industrial revolution and before. In the early 1800s we made a choice to fill teeth with mercury amalgam instead of alternatives. As industrial interests and power grew into the mid 20th century, "better living through chemistry" was lauded, and many decisions rooted in this worldview have had long reaching consequences for many of us that are serious, and very real.

This isn't a fix the kid problem... this is a fix our society problem.

I believe the idea of "fixing" a "broken" child comes from the 1940s-60s when we didn't understand at all what we were doing to ourselves with our quasi-medical chemically abundant toxin-filled self indulgence. A broken child (or person) is an old and disproven concept that is coming up through the generations because our parents knew zippity do da about environment, and so they tended to blame us... to think the problem was within us. My parents also wanted to "fix" me, but were clueless that what I really needed was help healing, lowering the big body burden I carried around with me.

If I'd been an adult back then, I'd have been considered a "refrigerator mother" under the prevailing theory of the time, and blame would have been placed squarely on me for both my children developing autism. The "broken child" syndrome comes from this period of time. It is based on deep ignorance of what is really happening more and more to our kids. But we can evolve beyond that now, and realize that our children are doing the best they can in a world laden thickly with toxic waste in our air, our water, our "foods" and our medicine practices.

When I say out loud, "my children live with autism," I am not thinking I need to fix them. I am thinking I am here to help them recover so that they can love and be happy in their lives. I'm thinking, wow, am I ever lucky to have been given this knowledge and these two amazing beings in my life. Their happiness and comfort living in this world is a high priority to me. To that extent, once we reach that perfect balance, where they can be comfortable in the world, they are still their quirky unusual selves, but they are happy, really that's what matters to me. And to them, too.

Ridiculous theories abound about the nature of autism - including the notion that parents of children with autism actually suffer from munchausen by proxy syndrome.*** (See below)

Obviously, none of this is ever any child's fault. It's partly on us adults, though. Our denial of the facts. Our complacency. Our acceptance of this type of world where we have over 84,000 untested chemicals in our environment in daily use, we have virtually untested drugs and we inject loads of toxins into our children to compound the problem they already have from maternal body burden (this is also not the mother's fault).

I have spent years unschooling myself on these matters, incorporating special diets, supplementation, therapies that we found fun and acceptable as partners (ourselves and our children). I have never placed my children in any situation they didn't want (usually with great enthusiasm) to be in, or at their request. I have SEEN with my own eyes my older son go from non verbal to somewhat verbal, and from verbal to actual language much later than most kids, and it was far more based on our treating their body illnesses (the mind is a part of the whole body, it's an integrated unit, even the teeth - d'oh). I know I changed some aspects of how unhappy they once were simply by adding certain supplements, altering the foods they intake, and by removing heavy metal burdens that I have proof they were born with from their bodies.

Once I got past my own blindness and denial, I also learned that for my kids to have started out so sick that I am also quite sick. I have no desire to be sick. I'll trade you, especially if you think I'm looking for attention. In a cold second. I don't want sympathy, I just want to be able to speak my truth. And understanding it gives me the knowhow to effect the best changes, and have a genuinely positive influence on all our lives. And this is how we move forward.

And see, I am not broken, either (despite what my parents thought, or what you might be thinking).

To assume that a mother like me is just "fixing" her kids to fit into some idea of what our (very sick) culture thinks is appropriate misses the entire purpose of what I've been doing all these years. I have no interest in my kids fitting in anywhere, unless it's their wish to do so. I want them to feel well, and be able to feel happiness. One's poor health more than anything else, can bring unhappiness, especially to a small person, who doesn't have a toolbox full of ways to cope.

"You think your kid is broken, and needs fixing" is a dreadful misconception for mothers like myself and others who are busting our asses to make life better for our kids. Our kids were never broken, they were sick. There's a big fracking difference. And some (not all) unschoolers who haven't dealt with this aspect of reality are often more clueless than your standard fair, because they're so hands off the kid, they couldn't possibly imagine that either they, or their kids, are ill through no fault of their own. This particular group of unschoolers places blame right back on parents around this issue, a throw back from much older generations. Time to let go of all that. Please.

The fact is, having seen both sides, unschooling is far superior for kids who live with autism to the school paradigm. No matter how you shake it out. It's tailor-made, joy-invoking, mind-blowingly perfect for our kids. It frees you to use a diagnosis as a mere tool for resources and knowledge, and allows fears about their futures to fall away entirely. Trusting them, and supporting them has been the most eye-opening, joy-making experience of my life. Another post percolates on this. That unschooling is successful for us feels like an understatement.

Still here unschooling, and living with autism in peace and love,

~~Mim

*** Munchausen by proxy syndrome refers to a parent making their children sick as part of their own mental illness/bid for attention. These patently wrong theories don't change the truth about autism - it's a biological response. Let me be perfectly clear. Autism is a biological response to mitochondrial dysfunction. Toxins ("environmental insult") push susceptible kids over the edge. Autism isn't a mental disorder and it's not genetic (save the mutagentic effects of heavy metal body burden) and it affects every system in the body, and appears as an often widely varied constellation of symptoms in each different child. It affects the gut, the immune system, the brain, the liver, and interferes with mineral transport throughout the body, which affects everything at the cellular level, and intensely affects adrenal glands, hormonal production, executive function, body-wide cellular energy, and it all translates into symptoms we identify as "autism" as well as other different ways of being. The research is now significant and peer-reviewed. Even the CDC is begrudgingly admitting to this, which is saying something since they are in a revolving door arrangement with the pharmaceuticals who are largely responsible for autism and nobody addresses conflict of interest issues within. The CDC is a bought and sold commodity of the pharmaceutical industry, as are the AMA, the NIH, the AAP and the IOM -- do the research instead of making lazy parent-blaming accusations. All of these scientists who are empowered to make these types of decisions have deep financial ties to the pharmaceuticals. If all us parents who have realized that autism is an illness that can be treated are deluded and suffering from munchausen by proxy, why has the United States government paid out millions and millions in vaccine injury cases that all "look like autism?" If it looks like autism, it is autism. So let's lift the cloud of ignorant judgment and parent-blaming, okay? There are already enough destructive ideas from the last half century, let's not bring them forward and hand them to our children. The originator of that commentary was truly shoving their foot squarely down their own throat with nothing but hurtful supposition based on a complete fantasy and zero proof to back it up. Just because it doesn't fit into your mind doesn't make it not so.

Auties? Autistics? No. The Intention Behind the Language - A Better Perspective

2011-09-29T11:35:00.000-07:00

There is one decry I've heard recently on the radical unschooling groups that I tend to agree with. The truth of the matter is I agree with all the unschooling philosophy save the labels/diagnosis issue. They don't "get it" in this area. Not yet anyway.

However, I have also heard people refer to those living with autism as "auties" or "autistics." As an unschooling and connected mother, I never *think* of my children that way. I never *refer* to them in that way. Ever. Never. That particular usage of a label in a sense DOES make them into their diagnosis. In this case those unschoolers are right on the money.

No, the proper way to think of it is that this is a person who is *living* with autism. Just as you would not refer to a person with cancer as cancerous, but as having or living with cancer. As another example, I find the word diabetic to be equally uncomfortable -- living with diabetes sounds a lot more like what is actually happening to me. The person is living first, and the condition is just present -- it isn't them.

Nobody calls someone with bipolar a bipoley. Or someone with schizophrenia a schizy. Autie is quite annoying. My kid is NOT an autie. :P

It's this person HAS cancer over this person IS cancer, or cancerous.
This person HAS autism over this person IS autism, or autistic or an autie.

This small simple shift in perspective can make a big shift in how it's viewed.

I prefer "living with" even more, because it places the perspective even more accurately on the target of respectful. My children live with autism, our family lives with autism. This is no crime against anyone… except, apparently, some radical unschoolers. :)

And I would very much prefer if you are talking to me or my children that you never refer to them as auties or autistics. Right along with other unschoolers, those references will make my lip curl. To me, that is the wrong way to think of it and an utterly improper use of the intention behind the label -- precisely because it does redefine the person it describes as whatever the condition is.

Such small changes in perception can make a big difference in how you proceed. Even something as small as the way you think of a word that you use as a tool. We're still here, unschooling and living with autism.

Love&Light,

~~Mim

Unschooling & Autism: Out Loud

2011-09-27T14:11:00.000-07:00

For the adamantly opposed to any sort of diagnosis/label: I guess we can agree to disagree. As long as you don't push your ideologies down my throat.

Please, keep your anti-label/dx opinions out of my son's face at conferences, I ask you kindly. Your attitude is truly your thing, your issue. Not his. If there is a problem, it's only because you've created one.

My kid is happy, accepting, open, a gentle spirit with a love for gaming, weaponry, battle and battle music. He is highly intelligent, sensitive, kind (because he wants to be, and because that's what he gets at home). As a family, together, we have learned to make his world comfortable, secure, a safe nonjudgmental place where he can pursue his interests with our support. He also identifies with others before him who have had autism and who he admires. Temple Grandin is his favorite, although he appreciates many who live with autism. He wears an autism awareness bracelet and it means a lot to him.

He doesn't deserve to hear how terrible it is to have a diagnosis from other unschoolers, but sadly, he probably will, because there is a group of old time unschoolers who are certain they have the answer for everyone, and they are terribly afraid of anything that might step out of their comfort zone and ask them to stretch. They are convinced and afraid that a label/diagnosis will forever change the prospects for a child to be fully him or herself. There is no evidence that this is what will always happen, but a lot of opinion and conjecture. Regardless, these folks are certain of it, completely in love with their idea, to the point where they exclude discussion of anything but the most horrible possibilities they can think of for what will happen to a child with a dx. A few have even told others they aren't unschooling because they have a diagnosis.

That's just nonsense. I am living breathing proof that it doesn't always happen. And that the opposite can happen instead.

It's very clear they don't trust you (or me, maybe even themselves?) to make our own evaluation of our own personal situations and to take a course any other than what they have laid down for us in regards to coping with a child who is struggling, even while unschooling is really happening. And it all boils down to a very nice little sounding sound byte "labels are for cans." I can no longer take their threats and fears at all seriously and for this reason, I steer clear of the lists and groups, now, other than the ones that seem to have a more open ideology. While much on the lists is of great value, and it's a great place for new unschoolers to paradigm shift into an unschooling way of being in the world, this one issue they have is a little like eating bad fertilizer for me. No point in that.

There are many of us out here, similar to me, who unschool and accept a diagnosis and who use it primarily as a tool to enrich and open doors and possibilities, where they might have been more limited before. Anything that doesn't do that isn't something we will do. We odd-one-out unschoolers are here, even if it's muffled behind the cries of "labels are for cans" and threatening pronouncements of what could happen.

It seems very important for the naysayers to get across that you can't trust yourself enough ever to rely on the very idea of a label or a diagnosis, or to admit "something might be wrong here" without it completely redefining your own child through the lens of this dx, and never depend on your own instincts and a partnership with your child again. It's actually kind of funny - methinks they doth protest too much?

This isn't how it has to happen, though. In fact, partnering with your child to help him feel better in the world can be a deeply fulfilling, profoundly rewarding experience for everyone, and can accentuate the beauty of unschooling. Unschooling, however, does not mean my son wants to drop his "label" of autism. It can be done with both intact, and without damaging anybody as long as we keep some important ideas at the front of our minds:

It's his (or her) journey -- always stay sensitive to the journey of your child, stay close to his (her) thoughts and feelings. It's NOT about you, it's about him (or her). The best thing you can do is try to find their joy in every possible scenario.
Keep your *relationship* as your highest priority! It's about a partnership, one that is fine tuned and remarkably sensitive to the needs of your very sensitive small person.
Trust your deep inner instinct, never let a "professional" make you think you know less than they do. YOU are in charge, you are the boss, you have total control and since you put your child in charge in a partnership, too, everyone and everything must pass both your musters. Don't let fear make you surrender to anything that you know isn't right. It should be about joy and fun, not pain. They work for YOUR KID, not the other way around.
Get out of the reward/punishment paradigm -- two sides of a really cruddy coin. That includes everything, even the way others interact with your child. Unschooling should have moved you away from this paradigm anyhow -- unschoolers call it what it is: bribery and coercion. Avoid!
Use the dx as a tool, not as a filter. Your kid is still your kid and always will be, no matter what a word says about him or her. (It feels like Homer Simpson "d'oh!" to have to say that, but it comes up when people proselytize the labels-are-for-cans philosophy).

It really shouldn't be shameful to live with autism and to say it out loud in any venue. I truly hope that one day in unschooling circles all over the world, this becomes true as well.

Love & Light,

~Mim

Too Smart to be Boxed In by a Mere Word

2011-09-24T13:28:00.000-07:00

To say that all labels are bad, this is the same thing as saying all hands are bad because in some cases they spank!

Those who have traveled the unschooling path are significantly less likely to do something that would harm their child by way of a label than they would within the schooling paradigm. Instead, to draw such sweeping conclusions about what *might* happen in the case of a label is hugely injurious to those of us who do have a dx for a real condition, in our case autism.

Our label [sic] (dx) unfolded our wings and set us free to fly. It provided us with MORE information, more resources, more availability of fun things to choose from, more financial assistance, more knowledge, more more more stuff that helped us outright. And I'm not just talking about therapy here, either. We picked and chose from therapies, and most therapists were not up to muster, so we stuck with the few jewels we did find. But also, all kinds of other resources opened up. Just one example that couldn't happen without our dx -- our kids go fishing every year at a special fishing event, and they can catch fish -- lots of big yummy fish! (My smallest boy always catches the hugest fish, too, it's very funny.) We would not have the ability to fish in a traditional setting -- it would not work for us at all. That would be one less experience they'd be able to have. Just one small example of doors that opened for us with the acceptance of our "label" [sic] (dx). I keep hearing the phrase "box you in" when the fact is my experience has shown it to be the absolute opposite.

If the condition messes with unschooling, then getting help and having understanding can make unschooling work even better.

When I was a teenager, I developed an incredibly mentally exhausting and debilitating form of OCD. I was terrified. I could not explain why I had to wash my hands until they were raw and cracked and bleeding, or why I couldn't touch certain people or things, or why it raged in certain environments and hardly at all in others. I thought I was crazy. It terrified me and I felt completely helpless about it. It felt so out of control and without a basis, I spent years concealing it in total misery. Then during college, I actually got a dx for it. It changed my life. I wasn't crazy. This was a real and legitimate thing and I could get help if I wanted for it (which I did). If my parents had been emotionally smarter, and had dx'd me when it first happened, those years of deep inner agony, and physical and psychological pain it caused me would not have happened. To this day, I wish I'd been dx'd and gotten help earlier. I'm approaching 50.

I deeply deeply disagree with the "anti-labeling" unschooling principle and believe it's not helpful or productive. It prevents many of us from speaking our truths in the unschooling groups and lists. As a result it *does* create more stigma, rather than removing it. No labels for anyone sounds nice and like everybody's equal, but in fact it forces one part of the unschooling population to go underground and just not to speak about it, which is incredibly sad. No dx may work for you folks who are afraid of something like a dx boxing you in. But if you know it won't box you in, because you're actually smarter than that, and you know it will open doors and widen horizons, then it should be okay -- with everybody.

Unschooling can vastly open up horizons, unless some not well considered precept narrows it down. Unschooling should not be sacrosanct to the point of harming a percentage of the population by telling them what they've done is going to hurt their child, when it could not be further from the actual truth.

Off with their hands!! After all, you know, some hands can spank.

It's not the label - it's the person using it.

~~Mim

Autism: An Analogy - for Unschoolers

2011-09-23T18:40:00.000-07:00

I have been informed that it might seem confusing to both be offering healing to someone with autism while simultaneously being proud of having autism.

The best analogy I have heard (and it's not mine, but it is perfect) for people to understand this would be that autism is exactly like being hit by a truck.

You still love the whole person that was hit, but they have been injured, and so you also do everything in your power to help them heal. And you love them just as much as before they were hit, and you love them unconditionally and with abandon and are proud of them both as an individual and of their recovery and subsequent blossoming, regardless of the particulars.

And if being hit by that truck injured their brains, you help their brains heal and you STILL love them even though aspects of their personality might be very different. And you hurt to watch them struggle with what other children who haven't been hit take completely for granted.

Autism is nothing like a broken leg, as was an example used in one discussion. Autism always involves a full body injury, one of the symptoms of which is brain swelling (edema), which is why seizure activity can happen and why brain processing is different. If a truck hits you, you also get a head injury and brain swelling. (Did you know about 50% of those with severe autism will develop seizure disorders when they go into puberty?)

This does NOT mean the child is broken, it means the child is injured and sick as a result. If anything you love them and help them more. You'd sell your house and give up all you have if it will help aid in their recovery, in them feeling better and being happy. And you realize what a gift you have, what a strong survivor, what a great spirit your child is. That part is breathtaking.

If a kid has been hit by a truck and it changed his personality, although not essentially who he was... say his temper is very short now, or he has memory lapses, or develops seizures... would unschoolers also deny that kid the right to his accident? Would he be allowed to talk about it openly and without feeling out of place and stigmatized by it?

Autism is like being hit by a truck. You can recover, maybe quite a lot, but you can't be "cured." It doesn't magically go away. I hope maybe this clarifies things a bit.

Thanks, Jenny M, for thinking up this analogy. I've heard none better.

~~Mim

RU Commandment - THOU SHALT NOT LABEL/DIAGNOSE

2011-09-22T11:43:00.000-07:00

My name is Miriam Mason and I am a sinner. I am an unschooling sinner.

Out of a recent somewhat frustrating discussion I had on what is now my defunct wall on facebook, it occurred to me how rabid the many "dedicated" -- and I say that with a caveat, dedicated to the point of not thinking about how they might affect a certain group of people, over zealous, perhaps, or even fanatically bent on sticking with a position they are unwilling to modify even if they are wrong or potentially harmful -- unschooling functions similarly to religion. I have created a piece of biblical-style text which appears to many of us as quite apparent in the RU community. I had to share it. It's supposed to be funny with a poke at what is OUR truth, so please take it in that light.

I am not a big fan of religions, overall. I think they set down bylaws that might be applicable some of the time, but that ultimately end up hurting large swaths of the population who don't fit into whatever narrow parameters they define. I believe most organized religion is mostly about spreading fear in order to maintain control, and is really very little about spiritualism. Those who find the real spiritualism there are the few, rather than the many.

Take LGBT population - this group is literally the beating post for many narrow, exclusive and ultimately un-evolved religions. But it can be any group, once a parameter has been defined, if someone in the community steps outside the parameter, they are a heretic, a sinner, bound for hell. In this manner, using fear, people are controlled to behave in a certain mostly predictable fashion. And fearful people are easy to control.

Most of the people who hate LGBT people really just haven't met anybody who's actually any one of these things to discover they are not harmful, they are not out to destroy straight marriage. They are people, who breathe and eat and poop and laugh and cry and love just like everybody else does.

Similarly, some unschooling zealots fall into this particular category, where ideas have adapted to define certain things as off limits. Unfortunately, for those of us who have kids who have what unschoolers think is a legitimate condition -- because of course unschoolers are so wise about what is a legitimate condition and what is not a legitimate condition - we fall outside those limits, we shouldn't have labeled or diagnosed at all, we have injured our children and GOD HELP THE ONES WHOSE LABEL DOESN'T NOT FIT INTO WHAT UNSCHOOLERS DECIDE *IS* LEGIT. They must be told the error of their ways in such phrases as "labels are for cans!" They have fomented a cardinal sin and it must be corrected, punished so everything can be as one with the commandment: thou shalt not label/diagnose.

This is regardless of how that might affect a nearby child who is comfortable with "I'm living with autism." For all the not hurting children that unschoolers pride themselves on trying to do, this one is a reverse whopper. This one WILL hurt a certain population of children. But perhaps, like vaccines, the overall good is so much more valuable than the few who might be hurt, that it doesn't matter? And we see where that logic is getting us now, do we not?

Radical unschoolers are not supposed to diagnose or "label" our child, whether or not the diagnosis actually benefits the child. It assumed at all times that any such thing would "damage" a child's natural sense of self. It is also assumed that it's all about the parent and nothing to do with the child -- which for some of us is beyond our ability to comprehend, as we've given everything of ourselves to help our children recover and feel well enough to function in this world of ours. The contradiction screams.

I understand a caveat -- if it's not affecting your unschooling life, don't bother getting a dx, because unschooling is real life and it obviously won't mess with that either. But if it IS affecting your unschooling life, if the illness is so bad your child is miserable and a diagnosis can help you get treatments, of which you are still in complete control over (some of us do stand our own own two feet and refuse what "experts" suggest because we know it's ludicrous for our child), then, in my opinion, a diagnosis can help immensely. Once the worst parts of the illness are assuaged, then unschooling, connection, unencumbered real-life learning can be enriched again and thoroughly enjoyed.

The ad hoc, ever present "labels are for cans" is preposterous and harmful to a part of the population of unschoolers. Even a small part. It's still harmful.

Why is it harmful? Well, once OUTSIDE the SCHOOL PARADIGM, the implication is that all dx's (labels) are bad. What does this say? This says that anything with a label must be a bad thing. This says that if you are dx'd, there will be a stigma about you. That a stigma indeed means that something is "wrong" with you. No. Eh! Wrong. Shift gears please. This is an adult stigma we are HANDING down to our children, if we do this. More reason for cruelty in the world. This is not a peaceful thing to do, it's an exclusivity -- something that turns one group of people into less than. Unschoolers, this foments more stigma instead of removing it. Is that really your intention?

We live with autism here in this house. Autism is not a bad word around here. Deep knowledge, understanding and research of autism has opened more doors for my boys than I can begin to write in one small blog post.

However, just like the church-going LGBT-haters, some radical unschoolers do not believe me. Even if these unschoolers have ZERO personal experience about autism, they cling to their religious dogma as if it were the word of God, refusing to listen, to evolve upon hearing the actual personal experiences of those who DO have the real thing in their lives.

Pointedly, I am wrong and they are right because their dogma says so and because it "might damage the child" or "will nearly damage the child every time" to have a label associated with them. This is extremism, no other definition applies. And what's more, it's broken extremism. It certainly is in my case.

We radically unschool in every way. We love it here. It is a joy, and enormously successful. I wish more parents of kids with autism were given an open positive view of how well unschooling can work with autism.

My boys love their autism. It gives them a unique way of thinking things out and it has been such a delight to follow their reasoning that I am also convinced, as is my older son, that "autism is a gift." If my older son heard the phrase at a conference "labels are all bad, nobody should diagnose!" which is certainly a phrase I have heard in certain areas of unschooling, this WOULD hurt him. He has a diagnosis. A diagnosis that has offered him enormous relief.

Children already know when they are different. We're assuming children (and adults) are pretty stupid by taking this tack, it seems to me. O loves and identifies with his autism. It's given him groups of people to be with, heros to admire and emulate, comfort in having a reason for his own extreme dark anxiety and thoughts, and a means to further explore them without fear, and made him feel better overall.

O also loves and identifies with unschooling. It's also given him groups of people to be with, heros to admire and emulate, and comfort in being allowed to have his own experience in the world and be supported and connected over it.

Why, then, must the two be mutually exclusive? When, in fact, they are a match made in heaven?

Autism is also a chronic illness. I won't bother getting into the reasons for its cause (Scientific American can answer some of that), but I will say that it will become more and more commonplace as our world continues down a path of very destructive actions that affect the human beings subjected to them. The rate is now between 1 in 80 and 1 in 240 children that will develop autism. This is a 5000% increase from the 1970s, for example. It's not going away, if that's what people are hoping for. It's not something we can neatly tuck under the covers and ignore, either. Which is another reason why I say openly and proudly WE LIVE WITH AUTISM. It is real, it is growing and we would do well to accept and connect with these new types of beings here on the planet, whatever the cause, because there will be many many more in the future.

So, finally, I am saying WE UNSCHOOL WITH AUTISM, AND WE LOVE IT. Despite the limits set up by extremist, or purist, or whatever you want to call those who are zealous without thinking over ALL the aspects of what they preach, in the hopes that others with autism will also try unschooling, because it's incredible for kids who live with autism, if only they didn't have to hide the fact that they'd lived with a diagnosis.

And so, without further adieu...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ah, sayeth the church of RU: THOU SHALT NOT LABEL/DIAGNOSE

There is an evil word, and all words that are "labels" or "diagnosis", for the two are interchangeable freely and without research, and it must be considered mortal sin to use these words. To lie with a label is an abomination and all those knowing sinners with labels must be eschewed, shamed and rejected from our haven, cast out from the pearly gates of RU and thrown into the fires of hell.

And even if that label, yea, that diagnosis is helpful unto the one it describes, that label is to be cast off, awash in the seas of knowledgeness. For to cling to ignorance, fear and stigma over deep understanding is how I speak here, to continue to instill ignorance, fear and stigma in our children, for all to hear and abide by.

Cast down the label! Cast down the diagnosis, for it (almost) always damages the one for whom it is intended. And oh, pity the one who bears the name "label" and actually identifies with it. Hear not the beauty and acceptance that could come with inclusion of the diagnosed within our ranks, but they LIE, they are evil! Cast them out!

And so sayeth the book of the RU, as according to Saint ______.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Yaaaay, I'm going to RU hell!

~~M

Immidot Wild Thing

2011-08-01T20:49:00.000-07:00

Will she ever grow into those ears?

First video I've ever edited, with critical analysis by the boys. Once I get video editing down, there's another thing Ethan will run completely away with. :D Hope this works.

Disclaimer: this is our kitten Immidot set to "Wild Thing" by the Troggs. I do NOT own this music, I am not making money or looking for a million views with this video, I am simply sharing the spirit of that song in a cat with friends. Please do not redistribute this video as it does contain owned material. Thanks.

The Story of our Paper Bag Floors, Part I

2011-08-01T14:52:00.000-07:00

All part of the ever-evolving process of unschooling, the boys are excited witness and participant to making a whole new non-icky floor to play on. :)

This is part of the playroom as it was before we started this whole thing. Covered in wall to wall carpeting. Behind those baby gates there in the corner was an area of the carpet that had been mutilated by our older cats due to their failing health. Who cares where you pee when you're 118 years old, yeah?

There was no fixing it, no level of shampooing it, no amount of natural enzymatic treatments that could make this room any better to my sensitive nose. I stayed away from the room, because I can smell what most people cannot. Instead of vacuuming each time we cleaned, we had to vacuum and shampoo and still the cats would repeat and I would struggle to be in the room. Didn't bother the kids in the least.

I'd been wanting to yank those carpets out for some time, but we're on a budget. My friend Cait Jabusch must have been listening carefully when I mentioned the problem because soon after she told me about paper bag flooring. Thank you forEVER, dear Cait! It was the answer to my dreams. Although work intensive, it's an easy concept to do and I am so far delighted with the results. This is a multipart task, tho, it's not finished yet.

So, to start, we yanked those carpets up. I managed to hurt myself pulling the carpets up by myself, I was trying to be all macha and tough, and yeah, well... I was. ::grin:: I don't have any pictures of that job, though. Didn't even think about taking pictures of that phase, to be honest. I just wanted it done!! :)

Once the carpets came up, there was the task of washing the subfloor and then covering the bits that had been exposed to frequent urination with a sealing primer. Washed the walls and sealed the lower portions of them as well. Have pee will travel, particularly with male cats.

If you notice, that's a lotta white sealing primer there. The cats had been more industrious even than I had been aware of.

We did the area in front of the doors there because it was covered with some presumably water proof black material, and it just screamed for sealer on top of it. And I have to say that stuff works wonders. Once the carpet came out, though, luckily, and because I shampooed enough, I guess, the subfloor underneath did not smell like urine to me. However, cat noses are more sensitive and I wanted to make sure I blocked any potential reminders of the state of that room to my now living cats.

The Captain Underpants and Admiral Owen area you see below here is not done, but I did seal it because of accidents there, too. That's a story still to come.

Then came lots of bag ripping. The boys enjoyed this part for a while, until it was boring and there were still many more bags to tear. The dog and kitten enjoyed the remnants -- so did Ethan, there's nothing like covering your pets with loads of bag scraps and watching them wiggle out, and ask for more.

Owen made us a sign for our work.

And while I labored, Dad made homemade microwave potato chips to fill bellies that seem to go down to the feet.

Using a mix of 50% elmer's glue and 50% water, I began the task of gluing the pieces of bag like a giant jigsaw puzzle onto the floor there in the back corner. I had to think about how not to paper myself into the room. These things do matter when you get to the end. :)

I eagerly invited both boys to do this part with me, and while initially they were happy to dig in, once they saw how much glue involved getting on their hands, they both quickly changed their minds. :D Geez, am I the only person around who loves elmer's on her hands and peeeeeeeling it off? (I shoulda taken a picture of my hands. Some red paint and they'd have made great zombie hands.)

It was work intensive and hard on the back, so once Bill finished those chips out, he joined me and we glued together.

Nearly done.

Done.

And fully dried the next morning.

We noticed several spots we'd missed the night before. This is no problem with a paper bag floor. Just rip a piece of paper bag, put some urethane on the floor under it and then cover it with a couple coats of more of urethane. You can skip the elmer's at this point. Patching should be a breeze.

But it came out really pretty despite the imperfections and the irregularities and the sometimes less than even subfloor. This type of flooring can be floored or rugged right on top of, too.

Then came covering it with three layers of flooring varathane, with three hours drying time between. We have since discovered we need to put oil based urethane on it on top of the varathane, which is water based, and in most cases, that's not a problem, but with our situation, we need water proofing.

Wet, shiny and waiting to dry. Now it needs to dry full up for 12 hours.

Next morning, it dried and it looks fantastic. Here it is being used and run upon with bare feet. Ethan was thrilled with it and has thanked me a countless number of times for "his" new floor. We're still going to coat it with waterproof stuff, which I'll take pictures of, of course, but this is pretty much it - I doubt there'll be much appearance change, really. It's unusual and pretty and the kids cannot get enough of being there.

Grandpa ("moustache") pig needed to come try the floor out, too. Another coat for the next two or three nights and it should be ready to receive furniture and full blown toys again. Minus nasty corner. All corners are open for business.

There's the corner where I stopped so we could get in and out of the back door for now, until we move stuff back in and then we'll have more room to do The Captain (Underpants)'s and his Admiral (the shirtless)'s areas for which we will have to move both their computers! This will be an interesting Part II at some point, perhaps.

Ethan has become very serious in pictures. Not sure why this is.

Barefeets.

And the swing is back now, this is good.

Owen expressing sadness that he didn't know my old cat Dri [Dree], who was part wildcat and truly amazing. Maybe we'll be blessed enough to have a cat like him one day again, my beloved Owen. You have the most beautiful heart.

And, so far, at least, there is the visual story of our evolving floor.

Now... wonder if the boys are up for doing the whole house? :)

Drogheads

2010-11-02T23:46:00.000-07:00

Okay, so this is me, probably being a bit reactive, but when the life you've lived has been absolutely nothing like what anyone expects, and your course takes you along significantly different roads than most folks go down, there is a desire to speak out.

We radically unschool and I started out by getting that dreaded diagnosis (two of them, in fact, one for each amazing boy), which, in itself, and when it is truly legitimate, is *nothing* like labeling your child. At least, it wasn't for me.

So, a droghead is someone I am defining who jumps at the notion that I would ever have my children diagnosed, given a label of any sort; those who truly don't understand the limitations that non-verbal children have, especially when they are young. Concepts that most people take for granted, even 2 year olds take for granted, completely fly over my children's heads, still at 8. If you label all of us who chose to diagnose as "labelers" and think of us in only one shade of existance, why then turnabout, my dear drogheads, is certainly an option. Like it or not.

Shouting out to a large group of folks over what I've done that "Labels are for cans!" is horribly hurtful to both myself and my children, to any mother who has never once lost sight of who their children really are; to boot these kinds of phrasings shows how dogmatic and unthinking some unschoolers truly can be, when they are technically supposed to be the ones who treat each child as an individual.

Please respect us. We respect you.

My kids are proud of their autism. I'm proud that they're proud of it. This delights me no end that they are able to celebrate their differences, and feel truly joyful about themselves inside -- they love their differences. This is no shameful thing to hide behind, this is a new kind of being, one who is certain of their inner compass, and who is honest and loyal to a fault -- a person with autism will NEVER EVER betray you. To them, living with autism is a way of life, a way of thought, how they are BEING in the world.

Both of my children know already that they are different from other children. They figured it out all on their own, too. Especially my older son. Understanding that there's a REASON for their differences, that their differences aren't just some inexplicable thing that's "wrong" with them has provided enormous relief. They are living with autism, and now that they understand what it is and understand that is a real legitimate thing, they can give themselves more leeway, more patience... and frankly, so can everybody else.

So, drogheads... Yes, I radically unschool my kids, and yes, I also had them diagnosed before we began unschooling because it was very clear to me that my older child was not proceeding down a course I knew how to comprehend, and so I needed information to find ways to reach in and touch him, let him know I'm here no matter what, and that I love him.

I find it appalling that some parents do filter through a diagnosis, thereby creating a much higher chance that they miss the child him or herself. That child becomes the label to these people and is then subjected to a world of extrinsic motivating, reward-oriented cajoling into trying to "normalize" or "mainstream" them. I have never done this to my kids. And yes, they have been diagnosed. So you see, it isn't like 1 + 1 = 2 in this case. I am not a number, and because I diagnosed, it does not automatically follow that I am then coloring all I perceive them to be through either a label or a legitimate diagnosis. In fact, for any mother with her brain and her heart fully connected to her children, doing this would be impossible.

For me, it has always been about availing services and more fun (and easier to handle) experiences for them. We have done nothing over the years that has caused either of my children discomfort or forced them into a certain set of parameters. For us, it has been a reason to open the door further, to find deeper connections, to gently feel our ways into the needs of their remarkably sensitive hearts and minds, so that we could understand, and give them more of the things they seemed to need and want.

To boot, whispering no-no's about diagnosies simply acts to FURTHER ISOLATE AND DEGRADE those who are openly happy with their diagnosies, and who feel comfortable and better as a result of having had them. How do you suppose what you're saying about it reads to my kids?

Whispering "diagnosing is bad" amongst yourselves is all very easy to do when you have a child who is actually speaking to you by age 5. But in doing this you are serving to FURTHER STIGMATIZE those with autism with your judgment calls and screams of "labels are for cans".

And that... that... is NOT a good thing -- especially for those with noble and open hearts, as so many unschoolers have in so many other areas. Drogheads, please reconsider.

As a dear friend of mine said to me: "it's like saying some parents hit their kids with wooden spoons, but that doesn't make wooden spoons evil." Damn right. Exactly.

Live and let be, yeah? Our diagnosies have vastly enriched our connections with our children and have enabled us to have the information and tools we needed to actually be able to connect with them in the first place.

~~Mim

Before Language Came - Our Very Visual Lives

2010-07-18T13:22:00.000-07:00

My older son has had a very long journey to being where he is today. One aspect of that unique and marvelous journey was the very late development of his ability to speak.

Owen had a language all his own. When he started to babble, it was only one word, and he used it as a language all its own. I'll never forget Owen's first unique word that he spoke when he was about 15 months old for the first time: "Aboodah." Everything was aboodah, food to hugs, from license plates, an early obsession to his other early obsession, sprinkler heads.

Then aboodah disappeared and he appeared to lose himself in quiet for a time.

We none-the-less communicated. Because we had been told it was autism, and that he might never speak, we began trying outward tools, and Owen's favorite became PECs (Picture Exchange Communication System). To this day, we still have his PECs and the boards they went on because he loved them so much. He loved them even long after he had become an extraordinarily verbal little being, so we hang on to them, because they bring Owen joy still.

Because living with him during this time was such a visual experience, I'm including many pictures to illustrate how aware we were of the complexity inside Owen's mind when useful language was not available for him to access.

This first was his favorite, for obvious reasons:

He could tell me he wanted to nurse by simply coming up to me and nuzzling against my breasts in a query, but he absolutely loved bringing the PEC with him. It gave him the word, which he seemed to badly want during this time.

We had an entire notebook full of PECs that our friend and brilliant, gentle and respectful therapist, Alycia Bennett, laminated for us. Everything from feelings to kitchen items, from body parts to flushing the toilet, from different types of hurting to the various people we would go and see during our recovery process and the normal course of life.

On a piece of carboard lined with velcro, we could schedule up an entire day as Owen wished it, or just the next few hours in ways that Owen loved to see and be able to change and manipulate himself. If we put up a "zoo" pecs and Owen didn't want to go, he would take it down and choose what he wanted, maybe a "play with toys" pecs instead, and in this manner, it provided us a very useful tool to find out accurately what he wanted. We could also discuss feelings he might be having. The two pecs cards Owen hated were the "Crying" card and the "Sad" card. Even when he was feeling those things, he did not want to acknowledge them. We could tell how sensitive he was to how his feelings were being described and interpreted by the rest of the world, and by his own little heart. Still, no useful language. But we were talking anyway.

Schools use pecs to inform the child of what is to come. We used pecs to allow the child to inform us of what he wanted and how he felt about it. It's all in how you use the tool.

Similarly, order was important to Owen's mind. He liked the simple "two-step" to choose his order in which to do things.

Once he got more adept at pecs, he began to show us some stuff he was thinking about. This came home with him from school, when he loved school as much as he loved life itself. I struggled with his love of school, because in my heart I was an unschooler, even when he was in school, but how could I ask him to stop when he'd be ready, anxious, excited, with his backpack on, outside with me, waiting for the bus 20 minutes before it would come every single day, even on Fridays when it didn't come at all? His teacher, at this time, was very good about communicating with me, and spent time at our house, too, a rare and precious gift. I also struggled because I had been told by numerous "experts" that it was unlikely I would be able to homeschool him at all because he was non-verbal and "needed help and socialization" and so forth. Little did I know how incorrect that was. But, indeed, it was all part of the journey.

Owen has always been a child filled with love and gratitude. Now he was telling us this in no uncertain terms.

After a time, Owen began to use echolalia, the exact mirroring of language he has heard. The personal pronouns never change however, the language is mirrored exactly. If I said "Wow, you went down the slide" he would say "Wow, you went down the slide." Echolalia happens at least partly, in my personal belief, because the child believes that whatever they are thinking is what the rest of everybody else is thinking too. This is called "theory of mind." If other people are having the same thoughts, the need to change the personal pronouns (or even figure them out) becomes irrelevant to understanding. It is also, I believe, because the pronouns change unlike the nouns, and those changes are confusing and meaningless to these kids, who at this stage, perceive the world as a reflection of their inner worlds.

The changable nature of language is also why numbers and letters and licence plates and shapes and colors were of the great interest to Owen -- consistency was highly important to him. Order, sense and sameness.

It was hard to figure out how much language Owen was understanding at that point. "Slide" was understood, clearly, but whether the language was more musical without meaning was hard to gauge.

But inside Owen's world, things were complex and active and alive and changing all the time.

His early artwork truly meant something to him. We have 3 dozen fat notebooks filled with these, hundreds and hundreds of them, and to this day, they mean something special to Owen and he wants to keep them:

I am not an artistic interpreter. But when I looked at these hundreds of drawings of complex scribbles that seem nothing but a sheet of pure chaos, I was more interested than ever in what was driving him to do these, in what made him so fascinated with the course of line on paper. There were no shapes, no conceptualizations, nothing that would make anyone take note, yet take note I did. These were not carelessly done. In fact, we have a whole little wooden kids' table down in our garage that Owen decorated in this fashion. I plan on shellacking it with a clear finish so that it will be preserved should he also want to keep it in the future.

I didn't know what, exactly, but I knew *something* interesting was going on in that amazing and curious little mind of his.

Then came the drawings and creations from slightly later on, still before he was verbal. Brilliant, colorful, complex and abstract, and somehow more joyful, like an explosion of expression.

His idea of beauty was different than anything I had ever imagined. I loved his artwork. He didn't care about staying in the lines, or breaking boundaries, he just did what felt good. I guess it's fair to say he was unschooling, whenever he wasn't in his beloved school.

As his language started to really become understandable, he was nearly 6 years old, and we could begin to have real conversations about things that seemed to have meaning to them. Interestingly, as his useful expressive and receptive language increased, his devotion to school decreased, and I began again to toy with the idea that maybe I could take him out of there.

By the time he reached second grade, and all useful support from the school system had become a thing of the distant past, I got my wish, and brought him home at his request. After a 6 month stint of doing a homeschooling curriculum, he began resisting, and then I knew, now was the time that I could actually let go of the *idea* of any type of structured schooling going on at all, and lay my trust in myself and my children entirely.

During that brief stint of homeschooling, while Owen was enjoying himself, the structure and the connection, his artwork also evolved to reflect that.

The Cat

Muskrats

The Clocktower

Rainbow Tree

Night

The Rainbow and Birds

He was 8-1/2 when we began deschooling. His artwork, although he is less driven to do it, is still incredibly interesting to me, and it has purpose, structure and intention of its own now, but it is still uniquely his.

A map of a computer game "Feeding Frenzy." Owen loves to work on cardboard.

Impressionist Wikkistix on Owen's door. They aren't a "thing," they are purely art.

And all sorts of assorted control panels which he has placed all over the house so that our ship [house] ("The Rethreben") can be controlled adequately once it's in space.

Owen's abstract glass plate.

And finally, Owen has a love and fascination for maps (like the cardboard picture above).

A map of Diablo II, including a waypoint.

And a map of Civilization IV.

I will continue to relish the unique creativity of Owen. I really hope you, also, saw some of the depth of what I have seen in the prolific artwork that was once his most expressive means of communication.

Our lives have always been very visual since Owen came along. Now that he is verbose and often eloquent beyond his age, his means of communication is as interesting and unique as his visual life has been.

These days, he is a free, happy, amazing, successful unschooler, big brother, son and friend. He is loyal to a fault, truthful, and like his mama, learning to own his big feelings because he wants to. He's connected, affectionate, expressive, loving, cuddly, funny, kind, generous, empathetic and very curious.

I have no words for the Gratitude I feel for who he is, and that he's here with me, and that he was the one who showed me how to do things right from the very start.

Love&Light,
~~Mim

Mim's Coconut Milk Basil Ice Cream Recipe

2010-06-21T18:33:00.000-07:00

I put together this recipe because I'm on a sulfur-free/light diet. That means no dairy (save butter), eggs, dark leafy greens, soy (save oil), beans, onion-family, peanuts, cabbage peas or turnips (to name a few). I miss ice cream dearly, especially really unusual flavors. So I shared it on one of the lists I follow for others who need the same diet as I do, and realized it's pretty darn yummy, even if you're not on any diet. Making it was all unschooly-like and stuff, so it seemed completely appropriate to post it here. :)

It's also vegan for anyone interested, but not intentionally so.

Mim's Coconut Milk Basil Ice Cream

3 13.66 oz cans of full fat Coconut Milk (well shaken)
1 cup loosely packed fresh basil leaves
1/4 - 1/2 C sugar or other sweetener (use less if sugar bugs you, it
doesn't need much)
2-3 Tablespoons arrowroot
1 teaspoon vanilla (optional)

Open 1 can of coconut milk and put into a heavy-bottomed pot. Bring milk to a gentle boil over medium heat, then remove from heat and throw in the basil leaves. Cover and let sit for 20 minutes.

Pour basil/milk mixture into a blender and liquify for 1 to 2 minutes. Pour out mixture through a sieve to remove large bits of basil. Set aside in fridge to cool.

Open remaining 2 cans of milk, reserving about 1/4-1/2 cup into a separate cup. Add arrowroot to reserved milk and mix well to make a slurry and set aside. Add the sugar to the remaining milk and warm over medium heat stirring with a whisk until sugar is dissolved. Bring mixture to a low boil, then remove from heat and add the vanilla and the arrowroot slurry, whisking until the mixture is smooth.

Add in the cooling basil/milk mixture and whisk it all together. Cool the mixture in the fridge until it's well chilled (2-3 hours or more), then pour it into your ice cream maker and follow the manufacturer's instructions.

It came out just gorgeous and so tasty in about 20 minutes. Chill to harden slightly before serving.

Coconut milk is loaded with medium-chain fatty acids, just as a point of interest. :)

Enjoy & Love & Light!
~~Mim

The Viaduct

2010-05-27T19:25:00.001-07:00

Ethan wanted to build a viaduct to go with his enormous wooden Thomas railway set. At first we looked up Youtube videos which showed how to create one out of wood. Very nice indeed, but a little ambitious for us at this point. I am no shop techno whiz, the thought of sawing curves in wood made my eyes go doe-like in the headlights. Fortunately, Ethan is proving again and again to be an incredible 3-D visual thinker, and so I am having to reactivate a long-since forgotten creative engine deep inside in order to find ways to actually help him make what he wants to make. He is delighted with this... and frankly, so am I!

He doesn't like it when I refer to him as an engineer. He says, "No, mommy, I'm a little boy." He's absolutely right, of course, but the way his brain works around these building ideas he's got, I am more often left gobsmacked than not.

We took a cardboard box with it's bottle dividers still in it and chose the longest ones. We cut them using one as a model to look like the curves of a viaduct, then we glued them together spacing them with small (hand sawed, which Ethan thoroughly enjoyed doing) squares of balsa wood, wood glue and a big heavy book to dry them. It came out the perfect width for one of Ethan's wooden railway tracks.

Then we cut out "sidewalls" to help hold the track in place. We took the box, and cut out the long sides to make it appear as a valley over which the viaduct was running, and Ethan used colored duct tape to make the grass and water of the valley below. Then, because Ethan wanted it to be made of gray and black "bricks" we covered the entire viaduct structure in black duct tape and cut rectangles of gray duct tape to be the bricks.

Ethan painted a few other boxes to make the top of the valley, and voila! A working, functional, almost totally free viaduct! Check it out:

Unschooling. Unschooling. Unschooling. <3

Love & Light,
~~Mim

Conflict Into Synergy

2010-03-18T00:58:00.000-07:00

Was informed I needed to share this little conversation... :)

Yesterday, Ethan accidently erased three of Owen's new Spore creatures that he'd been working on. Ethan immediately ran to hide behind me, because usually Owen's wrath is pretty intense.

Owen came over clearly angry and said in a calm voice, "You erased my characters Ethan, and you're not my enemy but I'm very mad at you!"

Ethan peeped out from behind me and said "I'm VERY sorry, Owen!"

And Owen said, "Ethan, I'm still too mad for you to apologize to me, so I'm going to go outside and lie on the trampoline in the sunshine until I calm down. Then you can apologize to me."

And that's what he did, for about 10 minutes. When he came back in, he quietly asked me if I could ask Ethan to apologize again to him because he was ready to accept it. I did, and he did, and in 30 seconds, they were playing together again. There was zero strife for the remainder of the evening.

This amazing self-awareness and ability to communicate came from an 11 year old who didn't even have useful language until he was about 5-1/2.

These kids, unschooling and connected parenting ROCK!!

Love & Light,
~~Mim

Zen & the Art of the Unschooling Dining Room Table

2010-02-11T10:46:00.000-08:00

What is unschooling? It is *being* in the world. It is surrender and allowing what is to be. And not merely allowing, it is supporting without ego, without worry. It is providing, without intruding, it is connecting without coercion, without the desire for an "effect".

For us, it is perfection.

This is my dining room table.

Today. Yesterday and the day before and the day before that. I do not believe we have used it for a meal in several weeks. This is difficult for many. It was for me, at first, because to me it looks like chaos, but the reason for it is sound and trustworthy. It is because my younger son -- a creative explosion with trains -- and my older son -- who adds the enrichment of an entire imaginary island of sodor where animals, dinosaurs and giant spiders roam about as Thomas works his railway -- want to be near the core of the house, which is... well... where mom hangs out a lot (kitchen). They wander away, too, but the core of their play is near me and involves frequent conversations, taking of videos and pictures, describing and repeat describing the scenario and making up new ones in which I am invited to attend over and over.

And if you come down into this world, and you look at each piece of the chaos, you see complex ideas, layered thickly one upon the next. It only looks like chaos if you don't stop to see what is going on inside it.

A fort, for knocking down, in the middle.

And two sidings, one leads to a shed.

Thomas loads green timbers in his trucks and crashes into some other trucks with logs and tinker toys and garbage.

A jet engine awaits on the siding as Thomas passes by with his trucks of timber.

And the accident happens!

Naturally, the polar bear is lurking outside the snow-covered tunnel.

Meanwhile, Percy rests comfortably in the shed, oblivious to the accidents or polar bears or dinosaurs. He's smiling.

A boulder lurks (that's a 3 pound weighted soft ball), perfect for falling on trains as they pass, or knocking down forts and staving off attacking dinosaurs, set off by elephants (of course).

Um... I think Toucan Sam is just sort of... hanging out. When Owen is around, I am sure he flies about.

And surprises lurk in the dark tunnels, there's an octopus back there, too.

Deer and dinosaurs attend nearby...

Two days ago, the same set on the table was covered with cotton balls, making a lovely snow-covered landscape.

Just a few feet away, created wholly with rubber bands, Ethan's imagination and help with a thumbtack from me, Harold rescues Thomas and flies him high into the air.

There is a virtual gold mine of stories happening here. And this is just one room (and not even all of it). I often need to remind myself of that, as I pull back and view it all as an adult who wants some order and a clean house. This is a transitionary moment in time, all too brief.

Unschooling and my dining room table remind me to stay present, and aware on multiple levels. I am invited to attend, not to initiate. I am "the observer". Eventually, the table's surface goes beyond any ability to repair, which is when we all clear the table together, each time gaining more patience, more understanding, more presence in the moment and gratitude for what lies inside the minds of my amazing children... and then they start all over again.

One day, I will long for the beautiful chaos that lives on my dining room table. I am grateful to be allowed to learn from my children's massively creative minds about how to live more peacefully in my own.

In Gratitude
~~Mim

Riding Day

2009-09-27T18:02:00.000-07:00

Loved this day. First we fed our apples to the non-working horses and some out in the back field. There was a very bossy mare there who didn't want any of the smaller ones to get any apple, and she let it be known which delighted the boys into peels of laughter.

After, staff brought Taz, the gentle white mare out and saddled her. Both boys brushed her, hugged her, touched her, nuzzled with her. Owen met a little girl who was working there and disappeared with her to adventure into the room with the kitten and around the barn in general

Ethan rode first, and he was so ready to, and even wore the helmet to which he had expressed concern the night before. Initially he needed to hold on to me, but it wasn't long before he said "let go!" and I did. :) He moved flags from one cone to another, and learned to steer and to stop and walk. Despite his tiny little vocal commands the horse listened! She's an awesome horse. He was ready to ride the entire time, and go back the next day. He did note to me afterwards that riding a horse was bumpy. We'll be back next week.

Holding on...

Not holding on...

So proud of himself. :)

Are we done pictures yet, mom?

Flags and cones are behind.

Owen had a different kind of time. Just getting on the horse was a lot to ask of him. But he did. And eventually, he sat up straight. He said having no "back" there really bothered him, which is understandable, all things considered. Our goal next time is to take a few steps with the horse. Like four, maybe. We'll see what happens but he really wants to try again. Eventually, he'll get used to being so high up with no sides, and he will feel more comfortable. I can see it in my mind's eye and in my heart.

Healing Winds rocks. Or... perhaps I should say they Trot! Gallup? Whatever, they're cool. They understood Owen's discomfort, and when I told them we do not use rewards for motivation, they seemed to adapt to that fairly well. I'll work on them while they work for my kids. ;)

Love & Light & Joy in Your Life!
~~Mim

Horses and Healing Winds

2009-09-19T13:38:00.000-07:00

It has been far too long since I have posted here, but we continue our unschooly lives, even when we do not post. Other "stuff" has become central of late, too, and our writing focus has been on that. Have missed this wonderful beloved blog.

So, I must post about this. Both boys are asking to ride horses now. In fact, they're into the idea of having a horse in our backyard, along with a pygmy goat, a sheep and some chickens. This sounds lovely and fun to me (however unlikely the horse part is at the moment -- the future is always open to possibilities), although their Dad is a city guy and is unlikely to yield easily (lol).

We visited Healing Winds Stables today and had a joyful visit feeding apples and hay to horses, petting them, letting them sniff us, feeding celery to goats and chickens and laughing as they butted us and each other. Neither kid had wanted to ride before this visit.

Funny how being with the animals can so change minds. :)

By visit's end, they both wanted to ride very badly. We have an appointment this Friday morning bright early for an hour to ride! Whoot! I'm very excited, it was such a rich time going there today. What beautiful horse, too. Nancy (owner) seems to really know her stuff when it comes to therapy riding, has been doing it for years. Now we just have to make sure we go to bed in time to get up and ride, we and our unschoolish ways.

I think we knocked it out of the ballpark today! :) Pictures, taken by dear Hubs:

We are SO in to the idea of riding now. Can't wait until Friday! Life IS Grand!! :D

Love & Light!
~~Mim

LIFE Is Good!! Pictorial.

2009-05-28T11:14:00.000-07:00

Here is our collection from the LIFE Is Good Conference for May 2009. As so very many of us attendees do, I wish the conference would go on longer and would happen more than just once a year, but I am SO incredibly filled with Gratitude that we have this even at all.

Life Is Good Conference is a Blessing Manifest every single year. This is the second year we've been privileged to attend. It is a generous and caring group of people. We are so lucky!

Owen poised and ready for the whole thing (especially the swimming and gaming) in our hotel room:

And Ethan, too:

Yes, but Owen LOVES to pose:

The beauty of the conference is it doesn't matter what you are doing as long as you are enjoying something in the world around you. We spent time that first day in the swimming pool and visiting the Columbian River, the bridges and the waterway. It seemed a period of adjustment from private to public life -- and it was ALL GOOD:

Owen was so happy to have his meerkat t-shirt on for this first day.

Pretty!

The ducks became a goal. Would they eat Ethan's apple bits he threw in?

They didn't seem at all interested in Ethan's apple, despite his best efforts. Swim away! Swim away! :) The pretty things on the path to hot duck-pursuit.

Oh! The bridge raised. Funny, we've never been caught in traffic when this has happened. Tiny little boat crossing, too.

The driftwood that captivated us enough to chase it as far westward as we could:

And down she goes:

Much to my surprise, during the concert on Friday evening with The Vibrations and Amy Steinberg playing, Owen set his soul free and danced! He was literally a blur of motion. And motivated others to dance, too.

And some video to accompany it:

Ethan in his favorite room:

Owen and a few other non-toddler kids really enjoyed being in the toddler room and playing:

Only concert pic before the kids wanted to return to the room and play:

And the room, ever so interesting, I realize. ;)

And, another favorite activity, swimming.

A ball well-loved... deflated with play -- it was inflated not 10 minutes before:

More play. They spent a huge portion of conference time in the pool --

Happy Boy. The whole point of the conference -- he's got freckles, too:

I realize this is heavy on photos and low on commentary. I'm still absorbing so much from the conference. The pictures speak a thousand words that I can't seem to come up with. Other than that, I'm already planning for next year. And maybe more words will find their way out as time goes by.

Love & Light!
~~Mim

Our Garden Babies

2009-05-20T18:36:00.000-07:00

Our garden is such a blessing every single year. It is abundant and giving and fertile and lush. Every year it gets a bit better. This year, 5 of our 7 trees had to be cut down and the sunshine now available in the garden is magnificent! I expect our harvest to be enormous this year for one small family.

Strawberries, already starting to berry. We have 5 different varieties.

Baby gourds, and one zucchini poking its head up there. So far.

Herbs, herbs, more herbs, in movable pots this year.

This is my wild red clover patch. I keep and dry the clover flowers for infusions that make me feel wonderful. Wise woman, Susun Weed, is who I follow to do this.

Our sage plant has been around for years -- hearty.

There in the corner is a jalepeno pepper start and of course our ever present catnip. 5 indoor kitties requires a live catnip plant at all times.

The chives blooming away, and a sugar pumpkin start and spagetti squash.

Several different varieties of lettuce, arugula, spinach and celery.

Corn rows. Really? Yep. Corn rows. Baby corns.

Bunches of garlic in the front and side.

Irises. Not my choice, they were here... but they're pretty... for a while.

Just put tomatoes in. Already flowering. My tomatoes grow 8 feet tall on the South side of my house. I have four. 2 early girl and 2 heirlooms. We freeze a lot of tomato over the course of the summer.

These are volunteers from last year. :) This happens every year. Tomato-crazy!

This is another start. Happy to be in the ground in a warm snuggy spot.

And last, but not least, blueberries.

This is not the whole thing. There are carving pumpkins and raspberries and soon to be an apple tree (must be golden, not red). Also 2 varieties of cucumbers now, black beauty zucchini, and winter squash.

LOVE the Abundance of our garden! :) It is such a joy to be helping the Earth create such delicious foods.

Love & light,
~~Mim

Now We're Steamin'

2009-05-11T20:27:00.000-07:00

Unschooling, unschooling. I love you. Once a parent gets it, it shows itself in plain site to the point of being unbelievably evident. Conclusion? Unschooling works. Boy, it works more willingly, more clearly, than I'd ever imagined possible.

Ethan. Small boy. Just turned 7. Originally dx'd according to standard world's view as high functioning autism. Fine. We really really like that dx here.

From his ever present viewing of youtube videos that captivate his interest, Ethan, at barely 7, has learned to take apart and rebuild his Thomas trains... all varietes, from the wooden version, to especially to the electronic versions. He has literally BECOME an engineering entrepreneur before our very eyes. The next time I doubt the efficacy of Radical Unschooling (which we are continually working to achieve without guilt, shaming, any of the native tendencies I was taught as a child), remind me to kick MYSELF in the head. It works. Uhhh... Yeah.

With a small piece of aluminum foil, Ethan can now make his trains run backwards. On call. Say WHAT?! He has cut pieces and added (via Mom spending a bit of time cutting with an exacto blade) connecters, traction rods, and additional bits and pieces. He has literally begun to rebuild his own railroad.

Our front room table? An explosion of his creativity. I've given up trying to maintain it. There is just too much work he has to do.

He has found as many creative ways to invent new things as I have hairs on my head.

We have created two versions of Bluebell from Thomas engines. Bluebell is not available in stores. You have to make her yourself. Ethan has done it twice. Lots of green glass paint to repaint Thomas from his blue into Bluebell's green. Might as well collect some nice rocks from the garden and paint them too, while we're at it. After all, we live in an old river bed, and rocks are everywhere.

And what better than defining your own new train, building it up from the various bits and parts of your other trains, exactly how you want it. Exactly.

And meanwhile, in the breaks he takes on his own from typing wildly in WoW to his newfound friends, Owen swordfights with his Dad, and gets his shots in good -- Dad is down!!

And to top it all off, in the distant peaceful bedroom where the family often sleeps together, therapy cat, Tigger, looks suitably pajama'd about the whole thing.

And such it is at our house. Messy, cluttered, busy, bursting with creativity and full of fun and joyfulness. Giggles echo in the walls of our house.

I need to read this every single time I'm worried about the mess that surrounds us. We live with Brilliance and Shine and Sparkle... And, that makes us Blessed in every sense of the word.

Love and Light!
~~Mim

Last Night...

2009-04-30T12:45:00.000-07:00

We had an intimate night in the wee hours with Imogen Heap. We've been following her on Twitter for some time now and she's been bouncing around the planet lately playing demos of her new album she's still trying to finish after a long effort in the midst of a busy life. She landed in the end in Maui, HI. Rented herself a convertible mustang and drove the winding roads to her hotel so she could finish her album in a peaceful beautiful place she feels connected to. She just got her driver's license, too, so this is her first driving around in the US; she's a Londoner by birth. She streamed live a 20 minute piano improvisation session and let us all in to watch. There were about 149 of us online at any given time.

Her exploration raised from my husband's computer like leaves on a gentle breeze, and called all of us into it. Ethan fell asleep to the music, my arms about him and when he shifted a bit, he actually laughed in his sleep. Even asleep, he loves her music. :)

Owen drew his face in as close to the computer and her playing as possible and was silent as he followed her notes, her explorations. She seemed at once incredibly vulnerable and powerful. Her heart was showing.

And all of us, down to the smallest one here, were captivated. Thanks for sharing, Immi.

She will be doing it again today at 2:00 am GMT for the sunset. If you like her music as much as we do and you want to watch her open herself up again live, you can see her tweets at http://twitter.com/imogenheap to get links.

Reading about her growing up from the Wikipedia entry, she actually taught herself most of what she does, the way she does it. She unschooled herself despite having to go through school. :)

Love and Light,
~~Mim

Okay... So... Wow

2009-04-13T17:01:00.000-07:00

Yeah, wow. Or WOW. Or World Of Warcraft.

Okay, yes, I know it's a game with violence involved with it, it's a game that apparently addicts people to the point they need support groups to remove themselves from its temptation.

To my child, my older, it has been an introduction into a world of social interaction, typing, spelling, communicating, comparative shopping, product placement, marketing strategy (oh, yeah, and as an aside, battle strategy). He has led hoards of people, made friends who adore him as their characters, figured out how to interact through typing while simultaneously calculating the best armor, doing battle with a character, searching for the end to a quest and explaining the entire functionality of the game to me. He reads detailed and long quests, and the guy who thought he couldn't remember how to spell "the" is now having detailed typed conversations with real people who are also playing this game.

I stand in awe. To boot, this afternoon, after his friend left the game, Owen decided to go out in the rain and pretend battle the trees, inventing complex storylines and surprising details that exluded even the WOW to progress into his own mindset, which includes conservation, recycling, sustainability and a deep love of wildlife and animals in general.

The two passions, in some brilliant yet to be discovered to me way, Owen has no problem reconciling. And actively pursues ways to make compromises. He's like a bridge of his own making. More than one bridge, too. Many bridges. The boy of many bridges. Has a nice lilt to it.

It makes me very curious about where his path will lead. His conceptual understanding is out of the ballpark in so many ways. Am I allowed to be excited?! :)

Love & Light!
~~Mim

So Many Changes...

2009-04-03T15:06:00.000-07:00

It has been a whirlwind for the beginning of 2009 for our family. Death, new life, new discoveries, new "stuff", poetry, writing, creating of ideas bubbling around in the brain, the ever present rediscovery of the amazing small people I am blessed to call my children... Wow. There's almost too much going on for these fingers to get it all down, so I'll just start... somewhere. Does that work?

Today, we are making corn syrup-free organic lollipops of orange, lemon and cherry flavors, some white chocolate and milk chocolate candies for the Home/Unschoolers Market on Sunday. Pictures to come soon, although, because I'm using organic evaporated cane juice and I'm not coloring them, they all look sort of the same. I'm not sure as much of the milk chocolate is making into the molds as into Ethan's mouth, but that's on me... I bought a big bag of kisses. ::grin::

The new kitchen island is a dream and now seems to be the gathering place for everyone, which is really cool, but of course, now I want to knock down a wall to open the space up. lol Always something more to do.

Our new computers are heaven, and it truly is wonderful to have reverted back to my original mac-loving self. PCs are a convenience, but Macs... well... they're a pleasure. (No insult intended... ::giggle:: )

My beautiful old man-kitty Foxfire is now being healed from renal failure again with Astro's CRF Oil, and we've got a great deal of confidence in what it did for him before. We are keeping affirmative that his body is healing this very moment and we are grateful for that healing and more time we get to spend with our now 18-year friendship. So now, he never goes off of the oil, even though he's not happy when he gets it. Shmoogus' T-4 is 12, which means he's very hyperthyroid and I am now beginning to consider the radioactive iodine treatment which worked a long time for Fox. Expensive, but I don't like drugging my cat, either. I think we might want to swing it.

I think I'll stop here for today other than to share a few sparkly, shiny photos and let them vibrate their light at you. Many posts to come, many ideas to manifest!! Much to be done. :)

Ethan found a streak of rainbow on the wall, reflected off of the mirror I put up from Mom. Can you see it there?

Mmmmmm!

Want some apple?

We had Earth2.5Hours on March 28th starting at 8:30 pm local time. Nobody wanted to turn anything on... so we didn't.

The science of balloons, dog furr and static electricity.

Blessings of Love and light!

~~Mim

Portland Homeschoolers Spring Children's Market

2009-04-03T14:25:00.000-07:00

Announcing:
Portland Homeschoolers
Spring Children’s Market

A fun festival of child-created, child-run booths
offering services, activities, food and wares to other home schoolers
and their family and friends!

Sunday, April 5th
2pm - 4pm
Liberty Hall, 311 N. Ivy, Portland

Please come and join us for this fun event. There will be many gifts, edibles, and activities that appeal to guests of all ages and all budgets!

Live Acoustic Entertainment by the Free Choir!
Carnival Games
Ornaments
Baked Goods
Raffles
Arts and Crafts
Jewelry
Face Painting
Handmade and Altered Toys
Gifts for All Ages

Free Admission!
Portion of all proceeds go to charity.
Please join us! Bring your friends and family!

Email for more info: Lylaw@comcast.net

Every Parent/Carer Needs This...

2009-04-01T13:11:00.000-07:00

The Sparkling Martins: Down with Obedience!

And turn your volume up. Found the song on Youtube, too.

Love & Light!
~~Mim

Earth Hour is Coming

2009-03-25T14:58:00.000-07:00

Sign up on my blog: Dancing Forward

We find Earth Hour to be an incredible time for connection. We build a fire together, play, really truly talk. Wish it was more than once a year. Love to commit to doing it once a month, and would hope the kids would play along. Maybe...? :)

Please participate in Earth Hour! Let's give our Mother a rest.

Love & Light & Blessings,
Mim

PS Must post blog entries, must post blog entries, want to post blog entries. Slow sad silly computer. Awaiting new computer soon. Have drive to CA photos, stories to tell. Have so much in brain to spill out. Silly computer.

The Master Farter

2009-03-16T20:52:00.000-07:00

...And that would be me. Quite gifted at it... it also helps that I have big hands.

Huh, you say?

My primary calling tonight has been to produce the loudest, most obnoxious fart noises out there. And, I have been successful. Ethan has been bent over laughing, but, yay, he still walks among us after his fartification.

Okay, so they sell this stuff at Fred Meyer -- Flarp.

Maybe Master Flarper is more fitting.

This is a sure fire way to have both on stitches in no time. I wonder if it will always be this simple?

Love & Light,
~~Mim

...And Again!

2009-03-10T14:45:00.000-07:00

Today seems to be full of interesting Ethan conversation.

While opening a Tofutti brand package of ice cream sandwiches for Ethan upon his request (he is sick today), he said in his wee voice "and what did they have?"

Puzzled, I looked at him, and said "ice cream sandwiches?"

He said, "but what did they have?"

Hmmm.... I said, wondering, "chocolate with vanilla."

And he immediately replies, "No! They have corn syrup!"

I am agreeing with him, stunned he recalls the discussion his father and I had in the store about the high level of corn syrup they contained and that he could have one such item, but preferably no more.

There are two good reasons for this. First, he is allergic to corn in any form, and can only tolerate small bits before his skin is set off by it into furious hardened bumps all over his arms and legs; second, corn syrup is made by the same process as high fructose corn syrup (and citric acid, by the way) and has a 50% likelihood of containing unsafe amounts of methyl mercury as a result. Since the Tofutti product is a bit more carefully monitored, I think it unlikely it's one of the culprits, but I prefer to skirt around corn syrup products of any kind, frankly. It's not a necessity to make food better, or taste good, and it's in way too much stuff anymore anyway.

In Ethan's wonderful, creative, beautiful little mind, he heard this. Presumably, a lot more than I guessed he'd understood at this point. It was delightful and surprising.

The below post (What Ethan Wants) was also a product of today.

Quite a day. His nose isn't working, but his brain is going strong. lol. There's been a good deal of just lap sitting and cuddling going on, too. Helping him manifest wellness.

Love & Light,
~~Mim

What Ethan Wants

2009-03-10T14:23:00.000-07:00

Our conversation after seeing an elephant on the television today --

Ethan: Mommy, I want an elephant for this house. Could we have an elephant for this house, please? Please?

Me: Oh, Ethan, elephants make big giant poops. I don't want to clean any more poops than I already do. Annie makes lots of poops.

Ethan: Well, we can get an elepha... an elephant... an elephant toilet, so he could get his big poops out in there. Can we, Mommy?

Me: That is certainly a solution! Ummm....

Had to share. :)
~~Mim

Returning to "Normal" Life

2009-03-08T13:14:00.000-07:00

Nearly a week after returning home, and things are beginning to resume some semblance of normalcy. The boys are awesome, and always bring me back down to planet earth. I took over 200 pictures of my trip down and wanted to document them, but my computer is acting up, and I'm in the process of considering a new one and need to do that fairly soon before this one takes its last breath.

I am thrilled, happy, elated, comforted, joyful and feeling abundant being home! More to come as I either gently nurse my computer into allowing me to access graphic software, or find a good new one that does it in a snap. :)

Love and Light. All my wonderful friends, your support is so deeply appreciated. We are blessed!

~~Mim

Plans and Things...

2009-02-15T17:54:00.000-08:00

The memorial for my mother will be held on February 28th. I will be making the drive and only bringing back what I can fit in my minivan. Zen detachment and simplification seems the healthiest way to go, and it is finally what feels right.

In the meantime, life goes on. VERY THRILLED to announce that my wonderful Sister In Law, Pam, is having her first baby!! This is after many difficult years of trying, and it is SO well deserved and we are incredibly happy for her! Pam, we're standing by, thrilled, excited, and ready to help and support in whatever way we can. :) ::popping open cork::

As one life ends, another begins, and so the story continues.

The boys' creativity hasn't slowed even slightly. Owen is very proud of his white belt certificate.

Ethan finds infinitely creative paths for his new marble run to follow.

Look what you can do with simple wooden blocks -- everyone knows it's a city, yeah? The city of Ethan.

Owen very pleased with this incarnation of his lego ship --

The creator --

And, finally... The Saga of the Corn Chip That Stood Alone --

Yes... Life goes on. There are moments, but most are good.

Ache!
~~Mim

Turning Sorrow into Joy

2009-02-10T15:00:00.000-08:00

After several days of thinking about it, I am beginning to feel as though having the whole family with me down to the Bay Area will make what would otherwise be a sad an isolated time into one that will be filled in all corners with a sense of curiosity and adventure... thanks to my boys and my husband/best friend.

It's a long drive down, and a long drive back, and short stay in between, but the nearness of my immediate family feels right at the moment.

No travel is set in stone yet, because details are still being worked out even now. But the freedom that having my own car and my beloved family with me will surely turn many otherwise sorrowful moments into moments of joy and discovery. At least, this is what I am hoping for. Intending it.

My wonderful Mama In Law, Joan, sent me a beautiful bouquet of roses that are all now opening up. The candles burned all the way through and the gazing glass remained clear and lovely. And today, my dear husband's work sent me a seedling Oak Tree, which I put in its pot and sat on the kitchen window sill to await planting in the spring -- supposed to grow up to 100 feet high, with a canopy of 150 feet. Sounds like a good Mother-Tree to me.

More as time heals... and more information becomes available.

Love and light,
~~Mim

P.S. The cats cheered me up yesterday...

Good Bye, MamaBear

2009-02-06T10:29:00.001-08:00

My Mom died last night at around 7 pm, peacefully. She really wanted to go. My brother, Andrew, was with her the whole time, holding her hand; and when she died, he arranged her body instead of letting the staff do it. The whole time it happened, I felt out of my body. I was there, too. Andrew said he knew. I guess he could feel it, too.

We all love you, MamaBear. Safe trip. See you on the other side.

Love and Light,
~~Mim

Of Mama Bears

2009-02-05T14:21:00.000-08:00

My posts have as yet been about my work as a Mama Bear to my boys... Today, I post as a daughter who is saddened by the events surrounding her own Mama Bear.

My Mother was recently released from the hospital and taken to a rehabilitation center to try to help her get back on her feet. There are many bits and pieces along the way, but the long and short of it is she had a large tumor removed from her colon, and the cancer has spread... this time. This is her second bout with said cancer. Last time, she nearly made it all the way through the chemo, which was extraordinarily difficult for her to tolerate, and she beat it. We thought she beat it. That was quite a few years back, though, long before my father died.

Only this time, she has some complications that make fighting the cancer next to impossible.

I deeply appreciate the time and love and care that my bother, Andrew and his wife, Colleen, have given to helping both my parents into their transitions.

Probably the most difficult part for me is being up here, two states North. I want very much to go down to just stay with her, but life has made that a difficult choice to make, requiring husband unit to remain off work to take care of the kids. I know that for my children, they cannot go. It would be very traumatic for Owen, and Ethan wouldn't understand anything that was happening at the moment, anyway. So, better they stay home where they are happy and safe and comfortable, and let Mama Bear gently explain come of the details when she gets back.

But right now, my Mother being who she is, she doesn't want me to come down. I think she's trying to spare my feelings, but I wish she'd stop that. But who am I after all? My Mama is my Mama to the very end, I guess.

I believe my Mama Bear may be approaching her Time of Transition. Right now, thanks to Colleen, it's all about Mom -- what she wants to do, eat, think, feel.

She wants time alone. She wants pain meds, and she doesn't want physical therapy. My secret hope is that giving her everything she wants will allow her to recover enough to be comfortable. Ease her pain. Maybe let me go pay a visit.

Listening, Universe?

And I would love for anyone willing to send love, healing and peace to my Dear Mama Bear right now.

Love and Light,
~~Mim

Follow up with the Opth

2009-01-30T12:45:00.000-08:00

We had a near-final followup today with Dr. Curtis at the Salmon Creek office of Vancouver Eye Clinic. Ethan was quite upset about the prospect, but as soon we pulled into the building parking lot and he recognized where we were, he stopped the tears (like a faucet shutting off) and said "is this the doctor who shows me the toys?" Almost with a sense of wonder.

His mood changed 180 in that moment, and he eagerly got out of the car, and began what I have no description for other than a whole bunch of excited babbling and questioning...

"Will he show me those toys?"

"Can I look at the pictures?" (the vision check pictures)

"Do you think he will put 2 drops in?"

"Can I show him my new nintendo ds game of wonder pets?"

"Can I see him very soon?"

"Can I have some glasses?"

"Can I go look at the glasses?"

"Can he make the light blue?"

"Can I play with the toys?"

"Will the eye doctor help my cough? ::fake cough cough::" (huh? lol)

... And on and on he went, extending that into outright gregariousness toward every person in the waiting room, the nurses, the doctors. He climbed behind couches and under chairs, chattering away the whole time... I haven't seen him so pleased to be at an eye doctor's office... ever. He WAS the waiting room entertainment.

I had prepped him to get the eye drops and the light in his eyes, which he was initially extremely unhappy about, but seemed now willing to go along with it because of this obviously highly cool doctor.

He aced the eye patch test, the picture test, the depth test, and I even got a little discussion with the technician who sing-songed "good job" at him at told him he could have a prize at the end if he was a "good boy." I smiled and gently shook my head "no" and she looked at me with question... so I responded. "I don't like to coerce my children, I like to tell them the truth. If you plan on giving him something at the end of the appointment, I'm cool with that, but he gets it no matter whether he's a "good boy" or not by our standards. That okay?" I could see the light flash on over her head. lol Not need to coerce... not need to coerce... not need to coerce... I could almost hear her mantra after that. :) It was neat she opened her mind because she's very young, and maybe she'll remember it, along with all that coersion she seems to think she needs to do all day long in her job. She was clever at picking up a non-coercive stance, and it was nice to see that evolve so quickly.

At any rate... as usual, this doctor is prompt, and he came in soon after the tech left. This guy is really good. I think he'll be our eye doctor for the kids for life. He's mainstreamy in a lot of ways, but he's another one of those people who sort of naturally "gets" kids. He's got a mellowness, a quiet sort of excitement to his nature, and ethan really likes him. Having already decided Ethan looked so good and happy, Doctor Curtis just didn't want to mess with any eye drops at all! He was so obviously pleased with how Ethan is looking, noted a little proptosis (the eye pushed out slight, but not bad), that his vision is good, and -- as has already been the case -- he'll be sensitive to light for some time to come.

What really blew me away is that he had Ethan put his face in that machine -- the one he shines the light in your eye with, where you have to put your chin and forehead on hard metal surfaces. Only he switched the light to blue and he was SO lightening fast looking that Ethan actually cooperated all on his own! This is the very same machine that Ethan had kicked into the face of the other Opth down in Portland.

What a difference a doctor makes!!! Bleeping yes.

It's really wonderful to find the pearls in there, even in the midst of the mainstreaniness of it all.

We have a final appointment coming up in a month -- and doc says we may try eye drops for that one. But after all this positive experience Ethan has had with Doctor Curtis, I really am feeling good about how that will all work out.

If you read all this, I appreciate it. :)

Ache!
~~Mim

The Doctor Answers...

2009-01-26T11:02:00.000-08:00

Well, Doctor Ben Schneider, resident in OHSU Family Medicine, wasn't able to post on my blog, so I'm posting his response right here for him. But OH SO fortunately, I finally found him. Woohoo! And he got to read the blog, and bless him for trying to post here.

If anyone out there needs a doctor who really "GETS" kids, and is great with parents, too, I'd highly recommend Doctor Ben Schneider over at OHSU. The special ones really shine, and are worth holding on to, yeah?

Here's what he wrote me:

"I read the blog. I tried to post to it but had some trouble and my message got erased without it being posted.

Alas I will just have to thank you for your kind words here.

I'm glad that I could make your experience at OHSU a little better. I know that life in a univ. hospital can be pretty overwhelming and impersonal especially when your kiddo is sick.

I was happy to see that Ethan's eye looks so good now. Celeral and all!
Take care,
Ben"

And thank you, again, Doctor! You ROCK!

Love and light,
~~Mim

The Science of Peace

2009-01-22T13:02:00.001-08:00

Wow, check out this site! :D And it's made by one of my personal heroes, Levar Burton of Geordi LaForge "Star Trek: The Next Generation" and "Reading Rainbow" fame.

Way to go, Levar! Love it, love it, LOVE IT!

The Science of Peace

I'll add it to my sidebar for keeps. :)

Ache,
~~Mim

An Imogen Heap Family

2009-01-21T15:27:00.000-08:00

If you take a bit of time to learn about sensory sensitive kids, you will learn that there are many sounds that can send them flying into a panic, startle them, scare them, distract them completely and even physically hurt them. To that end, we often carry around a pair of firearm earmuffs because they are cheap and very good at making sound less pointed, less painful. Both kids (but especially Ethan) have worn them on trains, during musical concerts and at big social gatherings and any other time when sounds or other people's music feel badly to one or the other.

For us, it's just part of our paradigm -- there are definitely sounds that jar. But to balance that out there are sounds that seem to open gates, and allow communication, creativity and focus to flow forth in abundance. A great deal of classical music fits this description, particularly Mozart and other "lighter" feeling composers such as Telemann and Cimarosa. Bach can tangle us up a bit, but he is still enjoyed a great deal -- he can make Owen cry. We enjoy classical, too, but listen only every so often.

We've also found unusual new agey/electronic and/or varieties of jazz can also open the gates widely and offer both comfort and creativity, which is nice, because we share that particular taste with them. Checkfield is among the favorites. They also like Michael Walthius.

But the one musician that the whole family has locked into just loving is a woman named Imogen Heap. She opens everyone's flood gates. Her music can change everyone's mood in the whole house, almost as soon as it comes on. When Owen plays her music as background to his video games instead of the sounds that go with the game, he shoots forward through levels he could never do before -- she gives him focus and harmony. When a particular song moves him deeply, he says "she's like Emotion Heap instead of Imogen Heap again!" And they do move him. We often find ourselves discussing the lyrics as she's one of the few artists you actually CAN understand quite often, and her lyrics are neither predictable nor easily explained. They lend themselves to interesting discussions. He calls "Speeding Cars" a forgiveness song, for example, something I think he holds very near to his heart as he can get very angry at times. Add to that the sweetness and depth of her voice singing it, and Owen is deeply affected by her. She's his muse!

To me, who used to enjoy Dido now and then, it's like listening to Mozart for the first time after knowing only Salieri before. I can no longer listen to Dido. Too simplistic and whineful. Imogen makes music rich with layers, each deeply connected to the others, yet with its own soulful voice. I find myself literally inhaling her music, lying back in it, completely and joyfully immersing mind body and spirit in it, ready to follow her where ever she takes me -- those layers are like pillows to me. Whatever ails me as I drive about, having Imogen playing in my car has become essential to feeling wonderful and feeling and projecting that inner joy she gives me.

Her music dances through little Ethan, too. Her album Speak for Yourself was his first request getting back in the car after leaving the hospital, and it soothed him over and over again while in hospital once we acquired a working CD player. He knows the songs by number, and likes numbers 1, 2, 4, 6, 9 and 12. And #2 is his absolute favorite which he refers to as "my Goodnight & Go".

Although I ran into her music some time back and played it for my husband, it was he who really fleshed her out and presented her back to us. What a huge variety! It seems there is little she cannot do if she wants to. We have yet to follow her somewhere we haven't enjoyed going.

Since he started playing her music, we have all become devoted fans of Imogen Heap, we wish her well, and throw our love and support toward her. $10.00 for one of her albums hardly seems like a fair trade for literally the HOURS, DAYS, even WEEKS we've spent listening to her music and having it enrich our lives and give us hours of joy.

We are an Imogen Heap family. And what a joyful sharing of her music we are blessed with!

Her blog is listed in my blogroll list to the right, and she twitters at @imogenheap, quite a lot in fact. She also has a vblog she uploads to her blog which are often very funny and give you glimpses and samplings of the new music she is ever-creating and recreating. Neat thing is she appears to be very human, very accessible and just funny and brave and creative enough for us to all enjoy following her.

Good luck on your next album, Immi! Our whole family is so excited and cannot wait to hear it, and we know how hard you've been working! We're waiting patiently... well... sort of patiently. :) (Can't wait!)

Imogen Heap -- "Let Go" Live

With love and light,
~~Mim and family

Learning to Weave & a White Belt

2009-01-19T19:28:00.000-08:00

My husband got me a lovely large wooden table loom for my birthday to satisfy my craving to weave, which I've had on and off through most of my life; ever since using a huge loom in India to help weave a beautiful tapestry. I felt hooked on it, the smell, the textures, the huge levers, the beautiful design. To me, anyway, there is something magical about the process of weaving. It seems the most elemental and basic type of construction, simple and yet capable of great beauty and strength. It isn't a solely human invention, either. Birds weave their nests, great apes weave fresh beds every night to sleep in, whether in the trees on the on the ground -- it is universally a good way to build.

My kids are more interested in watching me. Ethan has had the highest interest. When the loom has not become a form of precarious track for one of his Thomas engines to have an accident on, it has actually invoked a moderate level of interest, and a small effort to help. I just think I'm more craft-oriented than either of my kids are... or maybe I just like different types of crafts, as Owen is marvelous with legos and Ethan is a master of track building. Owen has enjoyed feeling the weave as I've progressed. He and I both prefer the yarn. I also tried cord, and found that less pleasing to work with, and certainly less pleasing to the touch.

I'll need more yarn... :) Meanwhile, my fingers long to also knit and crotchet. I need to MAKE. And write. Life is a bit more difficult these days, as one member has left the hospital, but another member enters the hospital, my Mother. So, I make and I write. And the kids continue to thrive. Ethan is spelling on his computer, as I sit here writing, and then proudly coming to get us when he's spelled a word he likes. Why's he spelling? You'd have to ask him. ;) We never ask him to do stuff like that. Another testament to unschooling. 6 years old and spelling because he wants to.

Here's the warping and the wefting, which is a confusing way of saying, here's the weaving progress thus far. Early on, after warping (the white strings) and just a short time of weaving, the cording is the middle black section, not as pretty--

Hmmmm... I didn't weave this. It's an original... with chocolate from chocolate donuts, for added accent and drama...

And as of today, I'm a bit further along. The lighter green part was the green cord. Didn't enjoy it, but it seemed a necessity to balance this practice piece--

Not sure if I like floor or table work better--

Low-key entry today. We seem to all be fighting stuff off right now, so energy around the house is unusually low for everyone.

Last bit of news is Owen earned his White Belt today in Tae Kwon Do. Congratulations, Owen!!! He is extremely proud of himself and worked hard to get it. Ray (his instructor) says he's a natural athlete, and I watch him and I see how Ray is completely right. Wish we could TKD every day for him!

Ache,
~~Mim

Celery with Chocolate Chips

2009-01-16T12:47:00.000-08:00

...Need I say more?

I guess I needn't be surprised, this coming from a kid who likes to dip his french fries in ice water and who uses water on his cereal. :)

Look at his eye! So much much better! So full of Gratitude!

~~Mim

The Doctor Who Played

2009-01-13T19:26:00.000-08:00

Saturday night, Ethan's eye didn't seem to be making the improvements it had on the previous night, so I felt a need to see a doctor. There was a bigger reason for this, actually. Every other doctor who had come in to see Ethan had either tried to check him when he was sleeping, and completely unreceptive to their prodding hands and bright shining lights, or had come in with no knowledge of how to reach a child like Ethan. But Saturday night (or Sunday morning), at 1am, Ethan was wide awake, looking all around, and I wanted a doctor to see him when he was like he was and get a good look, instead of trying to dig him out of sleep only to have him screaming within seconds. In all fairness, there were a few decent docs, but one really stood out.

The number of doctors at OHSU (Oregon Health & Science University) who approached Ethan already knowing his neurology and did so by grabbing the bright medical light from behind him and then saying "Okay, Ethan, I'm gonna look in your eyes now," astonished me. Have they really no clue at all? Ethan's immediate response was to begin crying and screaming "NO!! YOU CAN'T!!" clamping his eyes shut tightly, moving his head from side to side, covering his face with his hands and kicking with his legs. These doctors were never successful with their examinations. Their response? They deferred to me, asking me what I thought, how much improvement I'd seen. I was really quite stunned at this over and over again. Are they the ones with the MDs in pediatrics or other child-related medicine? Really? I felt my confidence waver in this system I was supposed to be trusting.

In fact, the whole of OHSU, with its large groupings of students, professors, teachers, doctors, nursing staff, facilitators, volunteers, evaluators, security personnel, and the odd nutritionist felt to me like a huge monstrous undefined jelly-like creature moving toward me, with thousands of individual tentacles, each moving with its own agenda and purpose, yet still attached to this massive brainless whole. ::shudder:: There were so many cooks in Ethan's stew that they seemed to have no idea what they were doing sometimes, and it was a bit unnerving.

I met so many doctors, it is really a blur, and I only remember the name of one of them off of the top of my head, the main ENT, who took over the case and stopped Ethan's surgery that had been boiled up by several doctors from the ophthalmology unit and several other doctors from some (I gathered there were a few) facial rebuilding unit, who sent us all flying into a panic before the ENT put the breaks on. These well-meaning doctors kept holding little quiet conferences as we waited for two hours outside of surgery, Ethan drunk on Verced, trying to stand on the bed and write on the surgery wall, when he could barely even hold his head up. As I said... unnerving.

However, Saturday night, this one doctor came by. Alas, I don't remember his name. I wish I did. But I remember what he did. Because he had it right. Totally right. He did the best exam of Ethan that any of them did. He made friends with Ethan and played with him! Imagine that?! He got excellent views of his eyes, the swelling, the improvements, the tracking, all of it, and he never once told Ethan he was going to look at his eye. Ethan is one of the sweetest, gentlest, most polite (just his sweet little nature, nothing I've done except let him be his shining beautiful gorgeous little self) little kid, and really fun to play with. In the midst of tears, he will still say "thank you" and when someone says thank you to him, he'll say "don't mention it." He is not hard to engage in the slightest, if you give him space and respect and offer genuine interest in him.

Anyway, I shared a few shots I'd taken earlier with the doc, and he spotted Bill's Macbook and asked if he could use it to take some pictures of Ethan for reference. I thought that would be a great idea, so he proceeded and here are those precious shots. This was the best examination Ethan ever had, so thank you, Doc, whoever you are!

Had Ethan totally engaged with looking at himself on the screen through camera and said "Wow, can you open that eye really really big?"

Happy during an exam --

You were awesome, Doc. Keep on keeping on --

He engaged with everything Ethan was interested in --

Gettin' tired, my poor little bub --

Tuesday now, and the difference between then and now is really amazing. I am very grateful he took these photos. There is no doubt in my mind that Ethan is vastly improved. Even more so being at home now.

So it went with the Doctor Who Played. :) He's the one we'll remember from all of this.

Love and Gratitude for all the love and well wishes we have received. This has shown us again just how deeply we are blessed.

~~Mim

Hospital

2009-01-11T20:19:00.000-08:00

A brief update sitting in Ethan's hospital room -- we want to come home. So far, there is no surgery scheduled, and we are hopeful that we can come home tomorrow (Monday, the 12th).

Turns out that the scratch to the cornea was just the precursor for a lotta other stuff. Concurrently, he had a cold, which we didn't think much of. He seemed to be recovering more of less, and then the eye injury sort of took our attention off the cold so much.

The two merged; somehow, that sinus infection and that eye injury made friends of a sort. Maybe the eye injury let a piece of dust in, who knows, but Ethan developed an abscess behind the socket of his right eye, causing it to bulge out and appear wall-eyed. He lost partial movement of the eyeball, and could not track that eyeball past the midpoint towards his nose at all. So Friday last, we went to a totally new opthamologist and he finally listened to me when I asked him NOT to put drops in Ethan's eyes and instead to focus on his tracking. After he did as I asked, he sent us to OHSU emergency to get a CT scan. This is how we found out he was harboring a huge infection in his eye socket between his brain and his eyeball.

First surgery, they prepped us, then they made us wait, then they decided against it, then they said maybe Saturday morning, then they said let's wait and see, then they said, maybe Saturday evening, then they decided to wait... It's been an... ::cough:: ...entertaining time here. Very good news is there is still a good connection between Ethan's eye and his brain, so he hasn't lost his site.

Putting in the IV was gastly, but keeping it in has been an even bigger adventure. If he could, Ethan would rip it out of his arm and WALK home, he wants to leave so badly. Frankly, I agree, but I'm also watching carefully because I don't want to have to leave and then turn right around and come back. Personally, since the doctor's really aren't seeing him like I am, I haven't seen as much improvement as I'd like to see today, but saw a lot between last night and this morning. He was taking two IV antibiotics and the reduced it to one today, so I'm concerned maybe that one isn't enough. The super strong one, though, isn't great for him, either... so what does one do but remain very very hopeful it will all straighten itself out?

His eye is now tracking, but still bulging out quite a bit. He is still unable to completely open it up widely. I've taken some pics, but have no means to upload here at the hospital, and so will update again once we're home.

I can't wait to sleep in my own bed again, without the interruptions from nurses and doctors taking vitals and waking Ethan up just to shine bright blinding lights in his eyes, and then giving up and asking me when they can't get a good look. ::sigh:: I am SO tired, and completely in agreement with Ethan about being so done with this place.

Whether the infection is done with Ethan or not is the real question here. And we are still waiting to find out. Surgery thus far, has been moved to the back burner. One doc says possible release tomorrow. Another says we'll see, let's not move too fast.

So, I sit here, next to my now sleeping baby boy, imagining his gorgeous beautiful shining healthy laughing face looking up at me full of love and wellness, and hoping it comes OH SO SOON!

Updates as it is possible to do so. Sorry if typos. I don't think I've slept more than 1 or 2 hour segments at a time, so please forgive foggy tired worried mommy brainness.

~~Mim

Reading about Presidents

2009-01-08T11:02:00.000-08:00

We got this special offer from National Geographic to try out a book with a forward by Barack Obama called "Our Country's Presidents" by Anne Bausum. It arrived, all yummy looking, full of pictures and easy-to-understand text. Our edition has more material in it than the edition I've linked to, it's an early one that also includes all the first ladies. We thought that was great.

Owen loves the presidents and has been fascinated by them for a long time, so this seemed perfect. Last night we began reading it together. We got through the forward and Owen was hooked. It was very Obama-ish, the cool, collected negotiator, both respectful and intelligent. We moved on to the section about what presidents do, and how George Washington first started. Owen's eyes widened. He said, "Wow, the president is as powerful as Yoda!" All seriousness. This was no joke.

I smiled, agreed and read on. By the time we'd finished the section for the night, Owen was open mouthed and said "Mom, presidents are even MORE powerful than Yoda!"

'Nuff said.

Ache!
~~Mim

A Little Better Every Day

2009-01-06T19:04:00.000-08:00

The eye still looks kind of nasty, but each day improves a little from the last. The most dramatic change is he's laughing again. It is so very good to see that beautiful smile and hear those great big chortles so much more often. Yesterday, he was still very clingy, but today, he was happy to be more independent of me, although he stayed near me still. We had our first outing that wasn't to a doctor or hospital, which was nice. We shopped at Trader Joe's and while he wasn't his usual self racing all around the aisles and talking to strangers (he stayed close), he did introduce himself boldly to the cashier and helped him unload the cart.

Here are some pictures from yesterday --

Many more easy to catch smiles today --

And I would be remiss if I did not post the picture that Ethan wanted me to take of his new Thomas at Action Canyon Train set, of which he is incredibly proud --

Missing going out for unschooly adventures, though! :D Hoping we'll be able to start doing that again soon! Snow to be run in and thrown, trails to be explored, zoos to be gone to, museums and animal sanctuaries, road trips and restaurants, train shows and train rides. :) Home is nice, too, but it's fun to be out and let the boys run free and wild.

All those good thoughts and wishes are working. Ethan is getting better. Thank you to everyone! Still a little ways to go yet, but we're getting there.

Ache,
~~Mim

Shiny Boy Shiner

2009-01-04T14:14:00.000-08:00

Little One is greatly improved today and although he is still very swollen he can now open his eye, and at least tolerate some light. His eye has also stopped running with tears. Even though it was just his eye tearing to keep it clean (which we talked about with him a lot), his emotions detected tears in his eye and he figured he must be crying... and he would follow that impulse. On and on. Poor little boo!

After a really difficult day yesterday, in which he slept fitfully all day long and couldn't bear any light on his eyes, he perked up again last night, and played happily until he got tired. He slept through last night very deeply, thank goodness, and only experienced a bit of sadness this morning.

Much to our joy (and relief) it ended fairly quickly and the smiling returned again. He even said it was okay for me to take a couple pictures, and he posed for them so I could post them up here. He's definitely feeling better! :)

So, he looks kinda bad in these photos... but he looked much worse before. He is very much looking forward to having his eye back to "normal".

So are we! All the healing wishes and vibes have been wonderful, please continue to send healing to Ethan. Thank you!

Feeling Gratitude for all the Love,
~~Mim (and Ethan)

A Small Repreive and the Sound of Laughter

2009-01-02T14:18:00.000-08:00

Just now I heard Ethan talking in varied voices in the kitchen. This is unusual for him, especially as his eye has made him so sad of late, but even so, I'd never heard him do that before, so I went to see.

He looked up and smiled at me (!!) and showed me his handful of Mighty Bites cereal and told me he was talking to the men in his hand (the cereal is shaped like little men). Then he said, "Grrr, I'm going to EAT you now!" And made crunching sounds as he shoved the handful of little cereal men into his mouth.

He's very obviously feeling a great deal better today. And we are SO elated to see that bright shiny smile again, and hear that contagious raucous laughter peel out from deep inside his chest!

He is still keeping his eye shut, but he can open it. To me, anyway, the eye underneath looks very good, clear and bright, but I think his eyelids are still somewhat injured, so it hurts to open it for long. He looks like he's got a good shiner now, but his returning joy is the best sign of all!

Here's to his continuing healing! Thank you to everyone who offered well wishes, both spoken and not. :) And I am offline for a few days now, taking a long awaited getaway break with some good friends. I have not suddenly gone quiet, no, rather partaken of good friends and good spirits and hope to be laughing raucously myself soon for other reasons. ;)

Be well all! In this turbulent time of change, I wish wellness and health and good fortune to all of us! It has been one hell of a transition so far, yes?

Ache!
~~Mim

Eye Update

2008-12-30T19:06:00.000-08:00

I do believe we may be turning a corner this evening. Ethan is still a very unhappy little guy with a swollen shut eye, but he can now open it a little bit, and the swelling -- which is turning dark purple -- is beginning to go down a bit. So he managed to scratch his cornea and give himself a black eye.

But despite looking beat up, and the frequent crying, I really do feel he is on the recovery road now. So grateful to be on that road!! ::tread, tread, tread::

The doctor today was not a good match for Ethan. He didn't take the time to get Ethan's trust, so when he went to make a move, Ethan fought bitterly. Somehow, in the scramble, Ethan's foot pushed the machine straight into the doctor's face. :/ For which I apologized first to Ethan, to let him know I was sorry I couldn't help him faster, and then to the doctor for getting in essence kicked in the face. The doc looked a bit stunned at first, but we managed to get on with it. But it was a bit disappointing because the technician who came in first really bonded with Ethan, and was great with him, I just naturally assumed the doctor would have some of the same characteristics. Nnnnnnope.

Ethan left with a metal eye cover. The doctor could see no more serious damage to the cornea before he got kicked in the head, but is concerned about the swelling, so we're keeping an eye on it in case the skin the inside of his eyelid was cut as well. As long as Ethan keeps rubbing it, it won't heal, so for a few hours, until Ethan couldn't bear it another minute, he looked like my cyborg kid. Poor guy. While it's off, someone has to sit with Ethan all the time, or he'll begin mashing at his already mangled eye even more.

Ahhh... Sweet Sleep. It is just SO sweet, isn't it? :} ::tread, tread, tread::

Eye Injury

2008-12-30T09:48:00.001-08:00

Watching your kid suffer is one of the hardest things to do. I know I'm saying nothing new, nothing original or unique here. I'm just validating what every other female ape descendant (and probably a whole lot of other animals out there feel, too, that we just give too little credit to, because we're human, and we're so much better) has felt throughout millenia.

I have no idea exactly how it happened, other than there was Ethan and a kid's video camera somehow involved. The result was a serious eye injury -- a deep scratch on his cornea. He might be 6 in age, but developmentally, he's still at 3 or maybe 4. This is not a bad thing, it is a sweet and charming aspect of Ethan that we love and feel infinite patience with every day -- he's on his own developmental schedule and that is 200% fine -- he'll still get there, even if he's later than some others, and he'll have an interesting journey doing it. And he's a brilliant shiny 4 year old. So, when he hits 6 in his head, he'll be a brilliant and shiny 6 year old, too, however old his chronological age. He seems to be catching up to himself, with each passing year.

But where injury is concerned, it is very much like having an injured infant. He doesn't understand why his eye just won't get better. He doesn't understand when you get hurt, you swell up, or why, or how it could possibly happen. To him, the body should be perfect, and if it's not, he is sad. Extraordinarily sad. So much time the last days have been spent crying. Helping him to keep distracted does nothing when you want to rub your eye so bad. There is panic in the fact that he cannot open it at all at this point. I think it's completely neurotypical to be afraid to look at yourself in the mirror when your face is injured, even for adults. Ethan is definitely there. No mirrors. If he sees himself, there is a flood of tears.

His phrase is "poor me!" Yeah, I hear you, Love. :( Seriously.

We're tired, running on little to no sleep ourselves, but hanging in there. We've had two visits to the emergency room of two different hospitals and have had two completely different experiences. The first terrible, the second, much less so. Today, we have an appointment with a pediatric ophthalmologist, and whether or not they are cool in how they deal with Ethan, Ethan has his own agenda, and it doesn't involve going to the doctors. It's a rough time to come. And if they are not cool, it's even rougher. I'm poised yet reticent, it's twice as hard if they are uncool. Ethan senses it immediately.

So, I guess I'm feeling the need to write, and appreciate those who read for reading this. We're hanging tight, and have high hopes that this will soon heal, and Ethan will be back to his giggling, playful, wrestly mostly happy very shiny self again.

Out of respect for Ethan, who isn't ready to have his picture taken, there aren't any visuals. He looks a bit better than last night, in which his right eye looked like a golf ball growing out of his socket. Less swelling today, but still a lot of pain.

We all love you, Ethan! Heal, baby.

~~Mim

Cleaning Day

2008-12-28T16:45:00.000-08:00

Owen's been helping us clean. He's 9, so he has much better things to do with his time, and yet, when he sees us cleaning, he joins us, offering to help, jumping in at every opportunity to help us out.

We've never made cleaning a rule, a chore, a responsibility. Occasionally, I have asked for his help when I genuinely need it, and he always comes to help, no matter what he's doing. We have an adage we adopted from something a friend (Rachel Mullin) once said, that more hands make less work, so it's great when we get help, cause it goes faster. That's the attitude.

That's it.

Today, Owen did a huge share of work. Is willing to do work. WANTS to mop (lol). It's the same every cleaning day. As we've continued to remove expectations, surrender to the moment, genuinely be present, the blooms just keep popping up all around us!

Cleaning has become more pleasurable for all of us, especially when the boys participate. What a great result, eh? A toast to unschooling!! Cleaning day is now a whole lot more fun! :)

~~Mim

The Kid, the Cat and the Marble Run

2008-12-26T23:24:00.000-08:00

Ethan got a very cool marble run for Christmas. We took some video of it and made our first uploads to youtube, which was a little unnerving, but we did it anyhow.

Here they are, embedded for your viewing pleasure. :) Between Facebook, Twitter, Youtube and blogging, I have taken the next step "out". A little leery, but I'm blessed to have a wonderful support system.

The virgin videos --

The Kid, the Cat and the Marble Run, Part 1

The Kid, the Cat and the Marble Run, Part 2

We'll get better with time. It's really fun to be able to share in all these ways, I must admit. Likin' cyberspace, and the boys were thrilled to shrieks to see Ethan on youtube. :) Neat.

Ache
~~Mim

The Night Before Christmas - Pictography

2008-12-25T23:25:00.001-08:00

We baked a chocolate cake and waited impatiently for Santa to come. Here's a pictography (and if this wasn't a word before it is now) of the evening, first cake and then family time around the fire.

Later at the fire with the chocolate face --

No flash --

Some snapshots of the evening, without much text to add. A little tired tonight. Brain seems to have fallen out my ear...

~~Mim

Before the Melt -- The Sounds of Snow

2008-12-25T00:06:00.000-08:00

The snow was beautiful this year, long for us. It started slowly, with a chill, then a slight shimmer of snow, and then it simply was snowing and snowing. Snow was followed by freezing rain over the course of a couple days, which made for a multi-layered snow and ice sandwich to crunch through as you walked.

But the beauty of this IceWorld our environment became was simply remarkable. Everywhere you looked, barren trees were cast in a thick sheen of icy white, which blanketed their branches from every direction.

Whole branches were enclosed in 4-6 inch thick ice, weighting them down to the point where some actually broke off, they were so heavy and brittle from the cold.

The neighbor's tree was completely enclosed in ice. It looked like something out of a storybook.

Everything did. The silence in the snow was noticeable, too. Does snow have a noise? The soft crunch of powder underfoot, or the shattering crunch as your foot slips through layers of ice, perhaps. But there is a noise other than that. A thickness, like cotton in your ears. A roaring, more subtle than the ocean, but still there, still felt. And even when it falls, it has a noise, a soft wisp nest to your ear, the gentle sound of powder hitting powder over and over.

Now the snow is melting. Huge chunks of snow and ice fall in great swaths of white from the trees. There is the quiet sound of breaking glass, as ice begins to crack under its own weight and the weight of the snow on top.

Soon, this world will have thawed out. And in spite of the challenges the storm brought, I will miss it. A little bit. The sound, the white, the ice sculptures at every turn.

Happy Holidays all.

Much love,
~~Mim

Tree Decorating

2008-12-23T21:32:00.000-08:00

This year, we remained relatively stress free. The kids are old enough and aware enough now that they can seriously participate fully, it was a joy having them want to do so much. Bill hung the lights and Owen and Ethan decorated the tree themselves. Although they couldn't reach as high as they'd have liked, they made it look very pretty, complete with candy canes and a variety of homemade and store bought ornaments. They skipped our huge collection of Star Trek ornaments in favor of a more traditional look.

This is a picture Ethan took of an ornament he helped make --

Very nice not have the stress of putting anything up this year, except the tree itself. It is SO wonderful to have the boys decorate this year!

~~Mim

Unconventional Conventions

2008-12-21T14:59:00.000-08:00

At this moment, Owen is donned in coat and sockless tennies, braving the frozen layer of ice and snow to get to husband's car to pick icicles off of the bottom of it to bring in for Ethan to eat. In fact, several icicles have been stored in our freezer, each in an individually wrapped bag under the threat that otherwise I'll have to clean the freezer. Bill's car looks like it has teeth, but not for long because one by one, Owen is removing them and eating them or delivering them to his brother for consumption. Shark car is losing its teeth --

Eating icicles, good, obviously.

Eating freshly cracked walnuts, bad, apparently. Brought home a whole bag of walnuts in the shell and within an hour the entire bag had been cracked. It was an endlessly entertaining activity for them. However, neither would eat what they cracked, so I had a mouth stuffed full of walnuts until I could bear no more (husband does not eat them, either), and had to refrigerate the rest. Owen, however, got to be proficient very quickly, and could get very large pieces out nearly every time. Who knew?

A heart shaped one, he was very proud of that --

A big one, more than half it was --

He began taking pictures of every nut he cracked because he was so please with his work... I won't post them all, just an example...

Ethan helped cracking, too, but his hands are just a little bit small for the task as yet. He did get some nuts out, though, which he then stuffed in my mouth with enthusiasm.

Later Ethan asked for a bowl of marshmallows. Sure, have a bowl of marshmallows, kiddo. Enjoy! And here's what Ethan did with his marshmallows --

They are still in those cargo cars several days later, and the remainder still in the bowl on the floor untouched.

Not only am I at total peace with this, I have come to love our unconventional conventions. :) My boys shine so brightly, it is a joy every day and I'm a deeply grateful Mama. I can't wait to see what more surprises are in store for us down the road!

Love and light,
~~Mim

Legos and Weapons and Ships, Oh My

2008-12-18T17:34:00.000-08:00

Three themes that run through Owen's life and interests, although he's certainly not limited to them. Legos are his means of expressing himself artistically, as he seems to find drawing less satisfying than creating something 3-dimensional that he can use in space. A Star Wars ship, original creation --

His room is endlessly overflowing with creativity, literally exploding at the seams. Here is just one level of his shelving, and I am not allowed to move or touch this stuff --

His mind knows where most things are, can locate them. To me, it's confusing, but to him, it makes perfect sense, and all his creations sit in places of honor everywhere in his room.

He also has two or more personal weapons racks inside his room. He has another outside, too, but at the moment, it's covered in snow, so that's another post. Here are his various weapon racks and weaponry that he loves --

This one it's the various sticks which are each very specific weapons for very specific purposes --

His gun rack --

And his scythe and stick sabre --

Finally, his ships. They remained docked at various stations in his room, and often come out to sail the perilous seas of the house and backyard --

And this one is in disarray currently, but is frequently risen from the ashes of its predecessor to make a new and worthy ship, lego-style --

I love how his mind works!! I don't always understand it, but I'm learning. He's a fabulous unschooling teacher. And a lot of times, I just get out of his way.

Ache!
~~Mim

Majel Barrett

2008-12-18T13:08:00.000-08:00

So Sad to hear today that Majel Barrett Roddenberry died. She was the late Gene Roddenberry's wife, and beloved friend to fans everywhere. She was considered the Mother of Star Trek. She played the first Star Trek pilot's first officer (the first woman to do so), later she played Nurse Christine Chapel. She was also the computer voice for all Star Trek shows. Later, in both Star Trek: The Next Generation, and Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, she played the gregarious Lwaxana Troi, Deanna Troi's Betazoid mother.

I was lucky to have met her several times, and in fact went with her on a cruise many years back. Stayed in the cabin directly across from hers. She shared video of Gene's actual private funeral with us -- it was very moving and a time of great support for her. For me, it was a time I will cherish.

Safe trip, Majel. Tonight a candle burns for you.

Much love,
~~Mim

Message in the Snow

2008-12-17T21:42:00.001-08:00

Today was mostly about poor Ethan feeling sick, but it finally did snow here in Vancouver. Small child didn't want to venture outside in the cold with his nose running.

Owen went outside and did some shallow snow cannons:

And left us a message in the snow:

A lovely message in a fleeting medium. More snow, please. And some good health and an easy night's sleep for Ethan, too.

~~Mim

Scary Santa!

2008-12-17T11:23:00.000-08:00

Santa can be scary... This one moves and laughs a deep gutteral and slow "hooo hoooo hooooo!" My friend Alycia heard it over the phone and said "that's one scary santa!" And ... she's really right. I'd feel uncomfortable in a dark room with this guy, frankly. Power of suggestion.

Scary spooky Santa:

And when you put the magic book in his hand, he reads it out loud. Scary Santa with book:

Does he look angry to you?

Oddly enough, the kids LOVE him, so we hear his low battery-run laughter and storytelling every night before Christmas...

"Hooooo.... Hoooooo.... Hoooooooo"

~~Mim

News from an Old Crone

2008-12-16T22:11:00.000-08:00

It's not too bad...
Stepping through the door.

On the other side
Lies Wisdom, Peace
And Gratitude.

Oh yes, my
Bones give Thanks for
The years I have
Accumulated, like
Well-read books,the
Pages turning easily,
The story hard to
Put down,
Comfortable
In my hands.

And yet we shudder
Away from the turn
Of our cheeks from
Rosy to pale and old,
Fearing our withered
Bodies have lost
The will to Create.

Walk through.
Creation lives here too.
It hides in the cracks
Between joy and wonder
That linger on,
That part of my child
Never gone, seems stronger
Now than before.
More willing.

Than ever.

Miriam Mason, copyright 2008.

Northwest December Sunset

2008-12-16T20:54:00.001-08:00

Recently, we had the pleasure of Laurie's company over night. These are magnificent pictures taken by her of the sunset just last Saturday night from our backyard. It was a silent moment of beauty we all relished.

It goes down so fast, you have to just get those moments or it's all gone... until the next great sunset! :)

Love your photography, Laurie!

~~Mim

Is it Live, or is it...?

2008-12-16T20:02:00.001-08:00

Laurie, our dear friend of over 25 years and often photographer taking a picture of Owen as Owen is taking a picture of Laurie. :D

Which came first? Chicken or egg?

~~Mim

Our First Fires in the Fireplace

2008-12-16T10:44:00.001-08:00

Week and a half ago, we finally cleared out in front of the fireplace. Everyone now understands that fire burns. :) So we can enjoy our fireplace without concern again.

Perfect time of the year, and just in time for the big NW polar freeze! No more cold playroom. :)

~~Mim

Tree Shopping

2008-12-15T21:49:00.000-08:00

It was sooo cold! 20 degrees, but because of wind chill, felt like 11, and we were exposed in the wind out there. We nearly had to chisel the kids out of ice blocks in the car, melt them out with the heat turned to high. They still had a(n) (arctic) blast, running through the rows, laughing. Owen had his face out:

Ethan did not. Most of the time he spent running around with his hat completely covering his face, a little red bandit. This was a lucky shot:

Can we pick the tree now? Brrrrrrrrrr!!!

We picked the perfect tree, cold notwithstanding. We're all defrosted now. On to decorating.

~~Mim

Our Animal Family

2008-12-14T13:57:00.000-08:00

Our animals mean a lot to all of us. We have 5 cats and 1 dog. 2 of the five cats are natural therapy cats to my boys, and the dog we originally purchased for that very reason. A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, both my boys had diagnosies of autism.

That is now history, as our quest to help them heal has been hugely successful and our dreams are now focused forward and full of hope and blossoming ideas! Our animals have been with us on this long journey and continue forward with us as we dance onward.

Some pics of our animal family:

Four shiny-eyed kitties on a bed, from left to right Smoogus (14?), Foxfire (18), Angel-Rose (6) and littermate Tigger with the super shiny eyes (6) --
The fifth kitty, Shadow (1 year?), our recent rescue --
Our wonderful, sweet therapy dog, Annie Fanny (now 7 years)--

When no one else will do, the cats will do very well, thank you. These are our two natural therapy cats, adopted from a kill shelter as adults. We brought them home and they bonded very quickly with our kids. Tigger and Angel-Rose have made a huge difference in my kids' lives, infinitely gentle and patient. Angel sleeps with O every night (no matter where he sleeps), right next to his head, nuzzling his hair with her nose, purring softly into his ear. She's still there every morning. These cats have given so much unconditionally. Angel has her eyes closed in this picture. They are magnificent animals -
And now Shadow is very stayed, calm and rooted. He too is a lovely therapy cat, as well he loves to play and has given us hours of contagious laughter rolling through the house -
My beloved old man kitty, Foxfire, beaten hyperthyroid three times and renal failure once, and now he's on naturopathic kitty supplements that help him feel good in these later years -
Ever-patient Annie-dog, wearing a hat -
Fox and Annie, two black cuddle creatures --

Angel, Queen of Owen's milk carton city. Some people are just too beautiful for words -

Shadow, a typical pose, he can move his face after a toy faster than the speed of light -
Tigger-in-a-Basket... Anyone for cat-in-a-basket?
The magnificent Shmoogus, our resident escape artist and sensory love-biter... he can't help it, he's just drawn that way -
Shmoo and Annie checking out the back door -

And there they are. They are a constant reminder of the value of unconditional love and compassion. And they are as intertwined into the fabric of our lives as any other family members. We are lucky to have their trust and love and we return it in full measure every day.

~~Mim

What is it Like to Unschool?

2008-12-13T22:58:00.000-08:00

Well, it is much like life, where the world is your classroom and learning is unlimited. There are no tests, no "show-me" work, no worksheets (unless your child asks for them), no expectations. It is highly interactive, working on the relationship between yourself and your child. It is about following the child's interests and stepping out of the way when necessary. It is about building trust and understanding. It is about exploring limits and breaking barriers. It is about never expecting the expected, never settling for less than what you want, or having to give more than you want. It is about intention, connection, interaction. It is realizing the abundance within your own children and rejoicing in it with them every single day.

We are learning so much. I could give you facts and figures denoting what ordinary society describes as "success" (getting high grades? being the most popular?), but that would be missing the point. We do not measure success in what tricks my child can perform at the drop of a hat, how many books he's read, what he understands about string ("brane") theory or quantum mechanics, how he helps tend the garden, do the dishes or clean his room, how kind he is to others, to animals, or loves mythology and history... I could tell you all of that, subscribing to ordinary ideas... But unschooling isn't ordinary. It's extraordinary.

We follow our own journey now, no one tells what to do or when to do it. We decide, my children have to power to choose what they take in, and what they do not.

We measure success by how we feel about each other as we open our eyes and ears and hearts to the World to listen to its many songs, dance its many dances, learn its many lessons.

If I am supporting my children fully in their interests, then I am being successful. If my children are experiencing the joy of discovery then they are being successful.

And it permeates every other aspect of our lives together. These are precious times.

Love and Light,
~~Mim

The Market

2008-12-13T22:50:00.000-08:00

That was amazing and fun and a really good time, making goods together and selling them at the market. The kids made a nice little profit and had so much fun, too.

Our table consisted of our Lucky Logs and dark chocolate truffles:

Home baked whole grain chocolate chip bread:

And candies:

Owen was truly enjoying himself, though after a while, playing was much more fun than sitting:

Looking forward to spring market!

~~Mim

"Lucky Logs"

2008-12-11T22:49:00.000-08:00

Painted wooden slats from the pine trees we had to cut down from our backyard. We're putting positive wishes in them and selling them as Lucky Logs:

We painted 24 in total. :)

~Mim

Chocolate Mini Breads

2008-12-11T22:47:00.000-08:00

Another item for Friday's market. Owen has a real touch with yeast breads!
Wonder how they'll taste?

More still...

~Mim

Chocolate Pics

2008-12-11T12:49:00.000-08:00

Mmmm, chocolate from Trader Joe's and the Candy Basket:

And the white chocolates:

On to chocolate bread and painting more "luck logs"!

60 Chocolates Tonight!

2008-12-10T21:52:00.000-08:00

Welcome to my new blog. This is our life journey. The four of us on this path of unschooling and life adventure we are on. I start this on a busy note. We prepare for a homeschool/unschooler's market on Friday. Pictures to go up tomorrow of what we've done, but it has been so much fun!

We are all tired, need a good night's sleep, so off to bed, and more as we go along.

Ache!
~Mim