Archives for April 2011

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The T-Word: A Scary Word For Autism Parents

April 13, 2011 By

This morning heralded the beginning of a new phase in my life as a special needs parent. We met for the first time with George’s transition planning team to sign the paperwork that kicks off the process of transitioning him to full-time school.

Any parent of a child with autism will tell you the same thing: that the word “transition” is one of the scariest words in the English language.

“Transition” means that the routines that pretty much hold the world together for a child with autism are about to be turned upside down and inside out.

“Transition” means that there are likely to be meltdowns, that for a period of time my child’s anxiety will be mirrored in his eyes in a way that will make me want to weep, and that the entire family will be without sleep as George makes the adjustment to his new reality.

Despite the fact that this is a process that makes me fraught with anxiety, it is a positive thing. When he started IBI therapy two and a half years ago, George did not have a lot of skills. He had virtually no vocabulary, no self-help skills, he couldn’t follow directions, he couldn’t interact, his emotional regulation skills were nowhere, and he had all kinds of fears that made his life very difficult. There was always a spark in him, though; a light in his eyes that made people sit up and take notice.

After two years of full-time therapy, the progress in this child was off the charts. It would be a stretch to describe him as fully verbal, but he was making requests using full sentences, he was starting to interact in a limited way, he was no longer afraid of the dark, he was starting to verbally express emotion, he was able to follow instructions with multiple steps, and in a giant cognitive leap, he had started to display his quirky sense of humour (deliberately being funny for the purpose of making other people laugh is huge. HUGE!)

And so, six months ago, the decision was made to cut his therapy in half and graduate him to the next program up. Instead of traditional IBI therapy, which is intensive one-on-one programming, he is now in a School Stream program, which is conducted in groups of five. It is a simulated classroom environment, designed to help children with autism learn the kinds of skills needed in school. There is  teacher who leads school-type activities, and each child has his or her individual support person to help with prompting and reinforcing.  The children in this program attend School Stream for half of the day, and actual school for the other half.

It has proven to be a very effective program for George. It has helped improve his social communication and interaction skills – areas that remain difficult for him, that traditional IBI therapy is not designed to address.

And now, effective from September of this year, George is being deemed fit for full-time school. This is a testament to the progress he has made, both in IBI and in School Stream. His teacher at school, who has had him half-days for the last six months, is excited to take him on full-time, and he will be with her for at least two years. At our last meeting with her, she had glowing things to say about George. He still struggles intensely with social communication, and he is not nearly verbal enough to hold his own in a conversation, but academically he is flying. He has developed the skills to function, and function reasonably well, in a classroom setting, even if it is a modified classroom designed for children like George.

That George is ready for this transition is a positive thing indeed. It is something that makes me so proud of him. He has had to work so incredibly hard to get to this point.

But still.

The process of transition is not going to be easy, which is why the planning starts six months before the transition takes place, and does not end until six months after the transition has happened. This morning’s meeting with the transition planning team was the first of what will be many. From what we’ve been able to tell, there will be good supports in place for George and for us over the next year, in order to ensure as smooth a transition as possible.

I cannot help being anxious about it, though. George’s departure from the therapy centre will mean the removal of a layer of support that we have had for the last three years, and although George might be ready for it, I don’t know if I am.

I might just have a harder time with this transition than George will…

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/misskprimary/1038145678)

Filed Under: autism, IBI, School, School Stream, Therapy, Transition Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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The T-Word: A Scary Word For Autism Parents

April 13, 2011 By

This morning heralded the beginning of a new phase in my life as a special needs parent. We met for the first time with George’s transition planning team to sign the paperwork that kicks off the process of transitioning him to full-time school.

Any parent of a child with autism will tell you the same thing: that the word “transition” is one of the scariest words in the English language.

“Transition” means that the routines that pretty much hold the world together for a child with autism are about to be turned upside down and inside out.

“Transition” means that there are likely to be meltdowns, that for a period of time my child’s anxiety will be mirrored in his eyes in a way that will make me want to weep, and that the entire family will be without sleep as George makes the adjustment to his new reality.

Despite the fact that this is a process that makes me fraught with anxiety, it is a positive thing. When he started IBI therapy two and a half years ago, George did not have a lot of skills. He had virtually no vocabulary, no self-help skills, he couldn’t follow directions, he couldn’t interact, his emotional regulation skills were nowhere, and he had all kinds of fears that made his life very difficult. There was always a spark in him, though; a light in his eyes that made people sit up and take notice.

After two years of full-time therapy, the progress in this child was off the charts. It would be a stretch to describe him as fully verbal, but he was making requests using full sentences, he was starting to interact in a limited way, he was no longer afraid of the dark, he was starting to verbally express emotion, he was able to follow instructions with multiple steps, and in a giant cognitive leap, he had started to display his quirky sense of humour (deliberately being funny for the purpose of making other people laugh is huge. HUGE!)

And so, six months ago, the decision was made to cut his therapy in half and graduate him to the next program up. Instead of traditional IBI therapy, which is intensive one-on-one programming, he is now in a School Stream program, which is conducted in groups of five. It is a simulated classroom environment, designed to help children with autism learn the kinds of skills needed in school. There is  teacher who leads school-type activities, and each child has his or her individual support person to help with prompting and reinforcing.  The children in this program attend School Stream for half of the day, and actual school for the other half.

It has proven to be a very effective program for George. It has helped improve his social communication and interaction skills – areas that remain difficult for him, that traditional IBI therapy is not designed to address.

And now, effective from September of this year, George is being deemed fit for full-time school. This is a testament to the progress he has made, both in IBI and in School Stream. His teacher at school, who has had him half-days for the last six months, is excited to take him on full-time, and he will be with her for at least two years. At our last meeting with her, she had glowing things to say about George. He still struggles intensely with social communication, and he is not nearly verbal enough to hold his own in a conversation, but academically he is flying. He has developed the skills to function, and function reasonably well, in a classroom setting, even if it is a modified classroom designed for children like George.

That George is ready for this transition is a positive thing indeed. It is something that makes me so proud of him. He has had to work so incredibly hard to get to this point.

But still.

The process of transition is not going to be easy, which is why the planning starts six months before the transition takes place, and does not end until six months after the transition has happened. This morning’s meeting with the transition planning team was the first of what will be many. From what we’ve been able to tell, there will be good supports in place for George and for us over the next year, in order to ensure as smooth a transition as possible.

I cannot help being anxious about it, though. George’s departure from the therapy centre will mean the removal of a layer of support that we have had for the last three years, and although George might be ready for it, I don’t know if I am.

I might just have a harder time with this transition than George will…

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/misskprimary/1038145678)

Filed Under: autism, IBI, School, School Stream, Therapy, Transition Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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The Amazing Race: South African Edition

April 12, 2011 By

I developed a love of running when I was a teenager, years before I started to actually run. The running events were always my favourites in the Summer Olympics, and along with the rest of South Africa, I whooped and hollered and jumped up and down as Josia Thugwane won the marathon in the 1996 Olympics, mere months after being shot during a carjacking.

My Dad and I had a ritual that took place once a year, at the end of May. The ritual went something like this:

I am woken by Dad gently shaking my shoulder and placing a mug of coffee down on my nightstand. It is early in the morning – so early that it is still dark out. Despite the fact that I have the option to sleep – it is a statutory holiday – I choose instead to get up. Yawning and rubbing my eyes, I carry my coffee into the living room, where Dad is already sitting down and the TV is already on.

The TV screen is filled with thousands upon thousands of runners wearing race numbers, milling around at the starting line of South Africa’s greatest race. These runners have worked hard, trained hard to get here. They have a gruelling day ahead of them. The energy at the start line is so intense that it filters out of the TV and reaches me and Dad. We are literally sitting on the edges of our seats, all trace of sleepiness gone from both of us, as we make small talk about the runners.

“I don’t know if Fordyce has it in him to win this year,” says Dad.

I look at him, aghast. Bruce Fordyce always wins. The man is virtually a mascot for the race. How can he not win? Dad has a point, though. We keep seeing footage of him continually stretching out a calf muscle, as if it is troubling him.

All of a sudden, we hear the strains of Chariots of Fire coming from the TV. The runners, who only moments ago were a somewhat chaotic crowd, have arranged themselves into an organized pack. They are ready, they are focused, they have only one thing on their minds, and that is the finish line and how they will get there.

Chariots of Fire comes to an end, there is an excruciating pause, and then the gun goes off. And with that, South Africa’s greatest race – the Comrades Marathon – is underway.

The Comrades Marathon, a 90km event not for the faint of heart, has a long and illustrious history. It comes from noble beginnings: it was first organized by a World War I veteran to honour the memories of South African soldiers who had died during the war. A prime goal of the race, in addition to honouring the war dead, was (still is) to “celebrate mankind’s spirit over adversity”.

The course alternates every year – “up” runs start in Durban, “down” runs start in Pietermaritzburg. Runners have twelve hours to complete the race, and they have to reach predetermined points along the course within certain times in order to be eligible to continue.

Every year when the Comrades was on, Dad and I would park ourselves in front of the TV and watch the action unfold. Because contrary to what many might think, it’s not just a bunch of people running all day. There is a lot of drama and excitement that goes on. You see many, many aspects of the human spirit – both heartbreaking and uplifting.

Running is, in many ways, a metaphor for life. The Comrades Marathon especially so. The frontrunners in any race get a lot of coverage as spectators and TV viewers anxiously wait to see who will win. In this race, though, it’s not just elite athletes. Everyone is a star. Every runner is a hero – even the ones who have to suffer the heartbreak of not finishing the race.

When I finally started running at the age of 26, I knew that I wanted to be like a Comrades runner. Not in terms of form or distance or speed. It is highly unlikely that I will ever actually run the Comrades myself.

No, it was other characteristics of these athletes that I aspired to: the mental strength, the determination, the courage, the fortitude to reach out and help a struggling athlete, the sheer grit to keep going no matter what.

I wanted to be like a Comrades runner in terms of spirit.

And that is still what I strive for, not only in my running, but in my life.

Filed Under: Comrades Marathon, life, running, Ultramarathon Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , ,
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Early Mornings, Falling Glass, Giving Blood

April 11, 2011 By

This morning I voluntarily woke up at 4:45 a.m. so I could go for a run. Other Moms who run will understand my dilemma: a hectic lifestyle of juggling work, kids, and other family responsibilities means having choose between sleeping and running. Other runners – Mom or not – will understand that running and sleeping are equally necessary for my physical and emotional wellbeing.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a complete masochist. I use some very creative thinking in order to try getting my runs in without having to get up in the middle of the night (or what feels like the middle of the night). Today, however, I had no choice. If I was going to (a) run, (b) get in the distance I was aiming for, and (c) be on time for work, I had to be on the road by 5:00 a.m. Which meant getting up at 4:45.

After all, I think it is reasonable to not want to run in the thunderstorms that were being predicted for this afternoon. And since my desperate attempts to master the art of being in two places at once have come to nought, I could not run at lunchtime and donate blood at the same time.

I had a lovely, lovely run. 7.5km in nice warm weather with just a little bit of wind.

Not a bad way to start a Monday morning.

After my run, I took care to have a nutritious breakfast. During the course of the morning I drank a V8 vegetable juice and ate a banana – neither of which I actually like, but in preparation for donating blood, I needed to make sure my iron levels were up and that I had enough nutrients in me to avoid passing out.

When it was time to go, I took the elevator to the ground floor, intending to get on the subway. As I exited the building, though, I was accosted by a big policeman who was yelling, “Get back inside! Get back inside!” Ridiculously, I offered a lame argument to the policeman.

“But I have to go and donate blood,” I said.

The policeman looked at me as if I had broccoli spouting from my forehead, and said, “Well, you’ll be bleeding a lot sooner if more glass falls off the building.”

Okayyyy. Turns out that a pane of glass had come out of the top floor of the office tower and crashed onto the street about sixteen storeys down.

I took the scenic (read: long) route to the subway and took the train for two stops. Then I got off the train and wandered around like a lost fart until I found the blood donor clinic. I checked in, and as the nice blood clinic man was giving me my paperwork, the shoulder strap on my purse broke and half of the contents of my purse fell onto the ground.

This was turning into quite an adventure.

My medical checks and interview went without a hitch. My iron level was fine. Vital signs were good. No bruises or lesions on my arms. I haven’t had sex with a cocaine addict or been a prostitute.

The donating part itself went well too. The nurse easily found a fat, pulsing vein to use and the needle went in flawlessly. Less than ten minutes later, a unit of my blood was in the bag in memory of Capt. Snuggles, I had a Band-Aid on my arm and I was sitting at a table getting free juice and cookies.

You can only count a day as GOOD when you’re able to get in a good workout and do a good deed.

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/prashu/3359028784/)

Filed Under: Blood donation, Early mornings, running Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,
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Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

April 10, 2011 By

Yesterday was just the second time that I missed a day in the Post A Day challenge. But since I still have enough “spare” posts from earlier in the year, I remain on track to complete the challenge.

In any case, I have a good excuse. With three weeks to go until my wedding, there is still a truckload to do and stress levels are running high. But never mind about that. Last night I had the opportunity to forget about to-do lists and table seating charts for a few hours. Because last night, my maid of honour Michelle and bridesmaid Jenn picked me up and whisked me away for a night of out-and-out fun.

My girls adorned me with a shiny Miss Universe style sash emblazoned with the word “Bachelorette”, a light-up “Bride To Be” badge, a silver tiara, and a white feather boa. We went to a nearby bar with a live band, where Michelle had reserved a table for us, right beside the dance floor. Shortly after our first drinks arrived, several other ladies arrived. We drank, danced, laughed and drank some more. My glass of wine kept regenerating itself, and from time to time a shot glass would appear in front of me, as if by magic.

It was a great, great night. It was pure, unrestrained fun, and that is a big deal for this overwhelmed Mom who hardly ever gets to go out.

Thank to you Michelle and Jenn for putting it all together. As I write this almost a full day later, I am still basking in the warmth of the friendship that surrounded me last night.

(Photo credit: Michelle Clermont)

Filed Under: Bachelorette, Friendship, Fun Tagged With: , , , , , ,
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Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

April 10, 2011 By

Yesterday was just the second time that I missed a day in the Post A Day challenge. But since I still have enough “spare” posts from earlier in the year, I remain on track to complete the challenge.

In any case, I have a good excuse. With three weeks to go until my wedding, there is still a truckload to do and stress levels are running high. But never mind about that. Last night I had the opportunity to forget about to-do lists and table seating charts for a few hours. Because last night, my maid of honour Michelle and bridesmaid Jenn picked me up and whisked me away for a night of out-and-out fun.

My girls adorned me with a shiny Miss Universe style sash emblazoned with the word “Bachelorette”, a light-up “Bride To Be” badge, a silver tiara, and a white feather boa. We went to a nearby bar with a live band, where Michelle had reserved a table for us, right beside the dance floor. Shortly after our first drinks arrived, several other ladies arrived. We drank, danced, laughed and drank some more. My glass of wine kept regenerating itself, and from time to time a shot glass would appear in front of me, as if by magic.

It was a great, great night. It was pure, unrestrained fun, and that is a big deal for this overwhelmed Mom who hardly ever gets to go out.

Thank to you Michelle and Jenn for putting it all together. As I write this almost a full day later, I am still basking in the warmth of the friendship that surrounded me last night.

(Photo credit: Michelle Clermont)

Filed Under: Bachelorette, Friendship, Fun Tagged With: , , , , , ,
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James, Trains And Automobiles

April 8, 2011 By

From the time he was a baby, James loved trains. Loved, loved, loved them. In fact, potty-training him turned out to be quite an expensive endeavour, because his rewards were trains. Not just any trains – they had to be Thomas the Train trains. I suspect that James drew out his potty-training for long enough to collect most of the Thomas the Train characters. He even got a Sir Topham Hat (who, if I’m to be honest, creeps me out just a little – I mean, he looks like an adult baby, reminiscent of Dr. Evil in the Austin Powers movie).

Then, about two years ago, James was given a DVD of the movie Cars, and just like that, the trains became second-class citizens in his toybox. Now it was all about Lightning McQueen, Mater, Doc Hudson, and all the rest of them. No creepy human characters in this lot – the Cars cars inhabit a world consisting solely of cars, trucks, and helicopters.

The movie is actually quite cool. It has a bit of everything: action, suspense, comedy, and a moral message. It even has those essential elements: a car chase and a love interest.

Since he first saw the movie, James has built up a staggering collection of Cars stuff. He has more Lightning McQueens than I could possibly count, as well as at least one of all of the other characters. He’s got race tracks, ramps, tipping tractors (tractor-tipping is like cow-tipping – don’t even ask), and several Radiator Springs buildings. He has a Firetruck Mater, Monster Truck Mater, Bulldozer Fighter Mater, and some good old plain Maters. His toothbrush, shoes, and backpack all feature Lightning McQueen. He’s got books, puzzles, and the Mater’s Tall Tales DVD.

Our household has probably singlehandedly kept the Disney Cars industry alive.

And now a sequel to Cars is coming out soon. In this one, Lightning McQueen competes in an international Grand Prix, and Mater gets sucked into an espionage situation (to get an idea of the incongruity of this, picture Mr. Bean trying to be James Bond).

James is dead-keen to see the movie, and not on some lame-ass TV screen. He wants the real-deal, big-screen movie theatre. And that is why his very first trip to the cinema is in his very near future.

Today, some exciting news came my way. News that will make James a very happy little boy indeed. This weekend, Lightning McQueen and Mater are in Toronto. They will be setting up camp in one of the larger shopping malls, and making themselves available for their adoring fans.

It is going to be crowded. There will be hundreds of screaming kids running around like lunatics, and hundreds of sobbing parents running after them, trying to contain them. Do I really want to put myself through that kind of stress?

Damned right I do. Seeing the look of joy on my child’s face as he beholds his Cars heroes will make it all worthwhile.

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/beaub/5159613205)

Filed Under: Children, Disney Cars, Movies, Toys Tagged With: , , , , , , , ,
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Weekly Photo Challenge: Light

April 7, 2011 By

The theme for this week’s photo challenge is Light. This is one of those things that can be interpreted in many different ways. Instead of going for some metaphorical meaning, however, I decided to go the literal route today.

Candle In The Wind

Battle of nature: sun vs. storm

All roads lead to the light

A benefit of early morning running: witnessing the birth of a new day

Indiana sunset

Waiting for the bus under the glow of streetlights on a winter's morning

Driving home to the accompaniment of the sunset

Filed Under: Light, Photography, Uncategorized Tagged With: , , ,
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My Life According To Facebook Surveys

April 6, 2011 By

My brain is feeling kind of overloaded today. There’s a lot going on at work. There’s a lot going on at home. We’re starting transition planning for George, who is being discharged from the therapy centre in August. We have to figure out new childcare arrangements for James, who a few months from now will no longer be eligible to attend his current daycare. There’s some big event happening at the end of the month (something to do with a wedding? Something?)

My brain in danger of blowing a fuse. So for today’s post, instead of tying to actually think hard enough to write, I am completing one of those surveys I keep getting tagged in on Facebook.

OK, here goes…

1.What was the last thing you put in your mouth?
Chocolate. Women need chocolate. It’s a scientific fact.

2.Where was your profile picture taken?
My current profile picture is a “World Autism Awareness Day” logo that I lifted off of a Google search results page.

3.Can you play Guitar Hero?
What the frick is Guitar Hero?

4.Name someone who made you laugh today?
James. He told me the following joke this morning:
Why did the chicken cross the playground?
To get to the other slide.

5.How late did you stay up last night and why?
I stayed up until 11:20 p.m. because I just *had* to beat a friend’s score in Bejewelled Blitz.

6.If you could move somewhere else, would you?
Yes. I would move into my bed and go to sleep for long enough to eliminate my ever-growing sleep deficit.

7. Ever been kissed under fireworks?
Now there’s a stupid idea. Fireworks make me way too jumpy – all of those sudden loud bangs.No way would I be able to enjoy a nice leisurely snog.

8. Which of your friends lives closest to you?
I have a friend who lives three doors down from me. Can’t get much closer than that.

9. Do you believe ex’s can be friends?
Yes, as long as no-one’s waving guns or knives around.

10. How do you feel about Dr.Pepper?
I like Dr. Pepper about as much as I like root canals.

11. When was the last time you cried real hard?
Probably a month or so ago. Things were rough.

12. Who took your profile picture?
It wasn’t taken, it was created. I don’t know by whom.

13. Who was the last person you took a picture of?
Gerard’s mom had a picture of Gerard’s dad sitting on her dining room table. I wanted to scan it for inclusion in my wedding slideshow, so I took it off the table and put it in my bag.

14. Was yesterday better than today?
According to my son James it was. He woke up this morning, and two minutes later declared that he was having a bad day.

15. Can you live a day without TV?
Technically I do. I mean, the TV is physically present and switched on, but I hardly ever get control of the remote for long enough to watch anything I actually like.

16. Are you upset about anything?
No. Life is beautiful.

17. Do you think relationships are ever really worth it?
With all the stress I’m going through to plan this wedding, they’d bloody well better be!

18. Are you a bad influence?
Me? Of course not!

19. Night out or night in?
I’m old and boring, so I like relaxing nights in. But once in a while my inner rabble-rouser emerges and wants to PARTY!

20. What items could you not go without during the day?
My coffee. My BlackBerry. My sense of self.

21. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital?
I stayed in the hospital when James was there. I don’t know if that counts as “visiting”.

22. What does the last text message in your inbox say?
“Huh????”

23. How do you feel about your life right now?
There’s too much on my plate but I’m happy.

24. Do you hate anyone?
Yes.

25. If we were to look in your facebook inbox, what would we find?
A lot of stuff about the wedding. A lot of stuff about blood donation.

26. Say you were given a drug test right now, would you pass?
Yes. My life is very tame.

27. Has anyone ever called you perfect before?
Sure. I’ve been called a perfect bitch, perfectly stupid, perfectly stubborn…

28. What song is stuck in your head?
The signature tune from Caillou. It makes me want to set my face on fire.

29. Someone knocks on your door at 2:00am, who do you want it to
be?
Someone knocks on my door at 2:00 a.m., they’re getting the what-for from me. They can damned well come back at a reasonable hour!

30. Wanna have grandkids by the time your 50?
No! I don’t want my boys to be knocking up girls when they’re 17 and 15, thank you very much!

31. Name something you have to do tomorrow?
Getting out of bed will be a good start.

32. Do you think too much or too little?
Some days I’m thinking so fast, it feels like I’m trapped in a pinball machine on steroids. Other days, my thoughts are kinda like lazy slobs that refuse to get out of their Barcaloungers.

33. Do you smile a lot?
Yes, I’m a natural optimist. I spend a lot of time grinning like the Village Idiot.

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/codemastersnake/5169004822/)

Filed Under: Facebook, life Tagged With: , , , ,
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My Life According To Facebook Surveys

April 6, 2011 By

My brain is feeling kind of overloaded today. There’s a lot going on at work. There’s a lot going on at home. We’re starting transition planning for George, who is being discharged from the therapy centre in August. We have to figure out new childcare arrangements for James, who a few months from now will no longer be eligible to attend his current daycare. There’s some big event happening at the end of the month (something to do with a wedding? Something?)

My brain in danger of blowing a fuse. So for today’s post, instead of tying to actually think hard enough to write, I am completing one of those surveys I keep getting tagged in on Facebook.

OK, here goes…

1.What was the last thing you put in your mouth?
Chocolate. Women need chocolate. It’s a scientific fact.

2.Where was your profile picture taken?
My current profile picture is a “World Autism Awareness Day” logo that I lifted off of a Google search results page.

3.Can you play Guitar Hero?
What the frick is Guitar Hero?

4.Name someone who made you laugh today?
James. He told me the following joke this morning:
Why did the chicken cross the playground?
To get to the other slide.

5.How late did you stay up last night and why?
I stayed up until 11:20 p.m. because I just *had* to beat a friend’s score in Bejewelled Blitz.

6.If you could move somewhere else, would you?
Yes. I would move into my bed and go to sleep for long enough to eliminate my ever-growing sleep deficit.

7. Ever been kissed under fireworks?
Now there’s a stupid idea. Fireworks make me way too jumpy – all of those sudden loud bangs.No way would I be able to enjoy a nice leisurely snog.

8. Which of your friends lives closest to you?
I have a friend who lives three doors down from me. Can’t get much closer than that.

9. Do you believe ex’s can be friends?
Yes, as long as no-one’s waving guns or knives around.

10. How do you feel about Dr.Pepper?
I like Dr. Pepper about as much as I like root canals.

11. When was the last time you cried real hard?
Probably a month or so ago. Things were rough.

12. Who took your profile picture?
It wasn’t taken, it was created. I don’t know by whom.

13. Who was the last person you took a picture of?
Gerard’s mom had a picture of Gerard’s dad sitting on her dining room table. I wanted to scan it for inclusion in my wedding slideshow, so I took it off the table and put it in my bag.

14. Was yesterday better than today?
According to my son James it was. He woke up this morning, and two minutes later declared that he was having a bad day.

15. Can you live a day without TV?
Technically I do. I mean, the TV is physically present and switched on, but I hardly ever get control of the remote for long enough to watch anything I actually like.

16. Are you upset about anything?
No. Life is beautiful.

17. Do you think relationships are ever really worth it?
With all the stress I’m going through to plan this wedding, they’d bloody well better be!

18. Are you a bad influence?
Me? Of course not!

19. Night out or night in?
I’m old and boring, so I like relaxing nights in. But once in a while my inner rabble-rouser emerges and wants to PARTY!

20. What items could you not go without during the day?
My coffee. My BlackBerry. My sense of self.

21. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital?
I stayed in the hospital when James was there. I don’t know if that counts as “visiting”.

22. What does the last text message in your inbox say?
“Huh????”

23. How do you feel about your life right now?
There’s too much on my plate but I’m happy.

24. Do you hate anyone?
Yes.

25. If we were to look in your facebook inbox, what would we find?
A lot of stuff about the wedding. A lot of stuff about blood donation.

26. Say you were given a drug test right now, would you pass?
Yes. My life is very tame.

27. Has anyone ever called you perfect before?
Sure. I’ve been called a perfect bitch, perfectly stupid, perfectly stubborn…

28. What song is stuck in your head?
The signature tune from Caillou. It makes me want to set my face on fire.

29. Someone knocks on your door at 2:00am, who do you want it to
be?
Someone knocks on my door at 2:00 a.m., they’re getting the what-for from me. They can damned well come back at a reasonable hour!

30. Wanna have grandkids by the time your 50?
No! I don’t want my boys to be knocking up girls when they’re 17 and 15, thank you very much!

31. Name something you have to do tomorrow?
Getting out of bed will be a good start.

32. Do you think too much or too little?
Some days I’m thinking so fast, it feels like I’m trapped in a pinball machine on steroids. Other days, my thoughts are kinda like lazy slobs that refuse to get out of their Barcaloungers.

33. Do you smile a lot?
Yes, I’m a natural optimist. I spend a lot of time grinning like the Village Idiot.

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/codemastersnake/5169004822/)

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