New Slippers for Me

An early Christmas gift for myself. And I love them. They fit perfectly, and are so comfortable and warm. I love ballet slippers. They don't get in my way, as so many other slippers do. They are not big and clunky. They don't make my feet hot. They do not flap on and off my heels, slip-slapping under me wherever I go. They fit. I have never owned a pair of slippers that fit my feet so perfectly. They are not too padded and fluffy. I don't want to "pad"and "plop" around in slippers. And I most certainly don't want a slipper with an animal or cartoon character head resting on the toes. These slippers fit the bill perfectly.

I am thrilled about my slippers.

All She Wants for Christmas is a Dinosaur

We have spent the last week getting into the holiday spirit. Paper snowflakes are all over the house, the tree is up (adorned with cinnamon ornaments that my daughter and I baked and decorated), cookies are baked, and the stockings are hung. And in our house, along with all the traditional embellishments of the holidays, comes the more untraditional. Yes, you will certainly see all the same sorts of things you will find in other homes (and malls!) across most of the world, but there is something you will find in our house that you won't find in many others.

Pink dinosaurs, of course! My daughter painstakingly cut out and glittered brachiosaurus, stegosaurus, and tyrannosaurus ornaments to hang on the tree. And of course there will be no gingerbread men in our house this year. Gingerbread dinosaurs. We could not have it any other way. You see, we must make sure that Santa knows what our daughter wants for Christmas. For when Santa sees the dinosaurs hanging from the limbs of our tree, he will remember that a dinosaur girl lives in this house.

I hope your home is full of everything your family loves, too.

First Time Skating!

Last weekend we took our daughter skating for the first time. In 3 months she will be 6 years old, and until now never showed any interest in skating. Suddenly she was ready, and luckily we had already purchased "bob skates" in anticipation of this day. Never heard of "bob skates"? They're two (yes two!) very dull blades attached to a rectangular length of plastic. And the best part is that they attach to any regular snow boot.

She was comfortable, and best of all, she felt pretty stable on the ice. And to be honest, I seriously wished I had a pair to throw on my boots. I'm not a great skater, and my feet hurt in my skates even before we got on the ice.

We are lucky to be able to skate at the Olympic Oval here in Calgary. It's a wonderful facility that is very family friendly, and more importantly, it's nice and warm. A great place to take a little one skating for the first time. So, that's where we went.

We stepped out onto the ice and after a few shaky and "why-the-heck-are-my-feet-slipping-and-sliding-all-over-the-place-maybe-this-wasn't-such-a-good-idea" moments she found her footing. And our brave, brave little girl who usually finds such physical activities so difficult, discovered she loved to skate. Skating is difficult; it requires strong muscles (and feet!), stamina, and it requires a lot of balance and control. My daughter's physical therapy sessions last year focused a lot on building her core muscles so she could balance better. And it paid off. She had to use a skating aid to skate, BUT, she felt confident on the ice, and sure that she could handle herself. She would not have felt this way 6 months ago. 

So, off she went. Lap after lap after lap. One and half hours later she was ready to stop, but only because she was hungry. And as I was taking off her snow pants, I realized she was drenched in sweat. I don't think her body has ever worked so hard, and had so much fun at the same time.

 And after, even though it was 10:00 at night, we went to a restaurant and had nachos (one of her favourite foods!) She earned it.

Love Shack, Baby

While listening to the B-52's song "Love Shack" on the radio, in the car with my daughter.

"Mom, what's a shack?"

"It's another way to say house. When I hear the word shack it makes me think of a small house. Something like a cabin."

"Then is a love shack a love cabin?" 

"Yes. Yes, you could say that."

"What's a love cabin?"

"I would say that it is a house full of love. Full of people who love each other. We live in a love shack. You, me, Daddy, and Daisy."

"And the fish. Mom. They're part of our family."

"Yes, and the fish, too."

Silence.

"Mommy, our love shack is full!"

Yes, it is.

Painful Days

These last couple of weeks my daughter has been feeling awful. She has abdominal pain, joint pain (in what seems like every single joint in her body), headaches, sore gums in her molar area, neck pain, back pain, thumb pain, and she's gassy. We went to the doctor last Thursday, he ordered some tests that all came back fine, and she is still feeling awful. She wakes up feeling bad, and spends the entire day complaining of something or another. And it's made her cranky. Very, very cranky. And you absolutely cannot blame her. But, it's making me cranky too. Very, very cranky. Especially because we can't figure out what is going on with her.

So, now what? What the hell are we supposed to do? She is feeling ill all day long (for a couple of weeks now) and the doctor can't find anything wrong with her. How much longer do we wait before going back to the doctor? Certainly it isn't normal for a child to feel this way, for this long, without cause or reason. It is difficult when, as a parent, you are responsible for how your child feels. And for the pain your child feels. I know she is waiting for me to do something about it. To make it go away. But, I have no idea how to do it. Absolutely no idea at all.

Meanwhile, my little trooper has been getting on with getting on. She goes to school, plays, reads, eats, and laughs. Halloween was a highlight. There are interruptions when she can't help but complain about her pain (quite often) and then she goes back to whatever she's doing. Yesterday, it was organizing some animals and dinosaurs into groups, based on whether they were herbivores and carnivores.

If only we all had the stamina of children.

Oatmeal Inspired Granola

The cranberry oatmeal inspired an idea - cranberry granola bars. My daughter, who loves food, was so excited by the idea of making our own granola bars. We love granola bars, but I don't often give her them to eat. Many of the store bought ones are loaded with sugar, and include a host of ingredients I can't pronounce, and even worse, don't recognize. So, after a long google search, I came up with a recipe for us to try.

We mixed together:

2 cups of rolled oats
1/2 cup of ground flax seeds
1 cup whole wheat flour
1/4 cup of brown sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon cardamom
1/2 teaspoon of salt
1 1/2 cups cranberries (frozen or fresh)

Then, we blended together (really well):

1/2 cup of honey (although next time I may lower that to 1/3 of cup - it was a little sweet)
1/2 cup of vegetable oil (next time I may try 1/4 oil, and 1/4 unsweetened applesauce)
1 egg, beaten
1 tsp of vanilla

Pour the wet ingredients into the dry and mix well. It's much easier, and funner, to use your hands. Bake in a 350 F oven for about 30 minutes.

Cut and serve. We had them for a mid afternoon snack, and for breakfast Sunday morning. And they stored wonderfully in an airtight container. Chewy and delicious. And next time, for a little treat, we may add in some dark chocolate chunks.

And the best part? Full of ingredients we could pronounce and recognize. Doesn't get much better than that.

Cranberry-Apple Oatmeal

Our morning today started with a hearty bowl of oatmeal. Little A loves oatmeal, and now that the cool fall weather has arrived, it has become our go-to breakfast to take the chill off frosty mornings. But, today I had an odd craving for cranberries. I have never put cranberries in our oatmeal (never thought of it) but this morning, I took a handful of cranberries out of the freezer and tossed them in with the oatmeal, along with some chopped apple, cinnamon, and a spoonful of maple syrup. Delicious and satisfying. A loved it (I mean, the kid savoured each and every bite) and then she asked me to take a picture of it.

"Sure. Why?"

"So I can look at it later. After it's all in my tum-tum. Then I'll remember how yummy it is."

Good idea.

Twinkle Toes

My daughter walks on her toes. And has been since she started walking. Actually, that's not quite true. She started walking when she was 22 months old, and she did (I have photographic evidence) walk in a heel-toe pattern, with her feet flat on the floor. But, it didn't last long. Soon after, my husband and I noticed that she was always toe walking when she was barefoot. Then, about a year ago, I noticed that she was walking on her toes in her running shoes at school. I know that toe-walking is common with children on the autism spectrum (and apparently most often seen in children with Aspergers) but the struggle to keep her off her toes is exhausting.

We find ourselves dealing with regular bouts of knee and foot pain (which no one can find a cause for) that I assume has something to do with her being on her toes all day long. I worry about her calves. I worry about her ankles. And to be honest, the worry is driving me crazy. And trust me when I say that it is driving her crazy too. Not because she doesn't want to be doing it, but because we nag her all day long. Our cries of "flat feet! flat feet! flat feet!" are usually met with a frustrating sort of a growl. Because she likes walking on her toes. She doesn't know why (or maybe her 5 year old mind doesn't understand why) she does it. She just knows it feels right. It feels normal. It feels good. So, why are we trying to stop her?

Well, because I worry that it will cause problems with her muscles and joints as they grow. I worry she'll end up in leg casts to stretch her heel chords. I worry it will mess up her hips somehow. And (as shallow as it may seem) I worry that other kids will make fun of her.

Don't misunderstand me. If I knew for sure that her toe walking wasn't going to hurt her physically in any way, I would let her continue doing it. I mean, it is how she walks, and like I said, to her it feels right. Imagine if someone told you to walk on your toes all day because that was normal? Imagine how difficult it would be for you because it would just feel so wrong. Because instinctively you walked in a heel-toe pattern. Imagine if you had to think about each and every step you took. Not so easy, right? She, like so many other on the spectrum, is such a trooper, and has an amazing spirit.


I've talked to several doctors about this, and they aren't too concerned about it right now, only saying that we should try to help her stay off her toes. For now, there are no physical problems that are a result of her toe walking. Except for my concerns that it might be responsible for her knee and foot pain. Hey, they can't find any other reason for the pain. So, for now we will try to keep her off her toes whenever we can.

And besides, I keep thinking she's taller than she really is.

Shadow of a Laugh

I swear, sometimes it seems like we get more cries and whines than we do smiles and laughs. But, when I do hear my pink dinosaur girl laugh, it comes from deep within her belly. It just bubbles right out of her. And it can literally knock her over. Her balance can be precarious enough at times, but catch her in a good laugh and more than likely she'll end up on the floor.

I hope to find her there more often.

Dinosaur Quilt

It's been awhile since I picked up the fabric for the dinosaur quilt I'm attempting to make for my daughter for Christmas. I started it in earnest over the summer, but I got lazy with the long days of summer. But! The crisp breezes of autumn have arrived, and with it, my longing to quilt. The fabric is cut, and half triangles are pieced. Now the hard part - how shall I arrange them?

Maybe,

 or,

 or,

My husband votes for the first one, although he does like the last one too (at first, though, he declared them all the same. Not so, dear.) The more I look at them, I think I find the first one to be the most pleasing. I think the red dinosaur patches pop out with the pale yellow fabric behind it. And for my daughter, the dinosaurs on the red fabric will be the stars of the quilt.

And how I love, love, love the brown fossil fabric. What luck in finding it! My dear girl thinks it very important that dinosaurs look like real dinosaurs. No cute cartoonish, colourful dinosaurs for her. Nope. They must look the way paleontologists think they might have looked. And she thinks they are beautiful. So, I am thrilled that we were able to find fabric that appeals so much to her, while still being able to make it, well, kind of "girly". I hope to start sewing strips together soon. And in the meantime, any ideas for a border??

Breakfast for Dinner

Today, we had breakfast for dinner! My daughter's absolute favourite. In fact, this is usually her birthday dinner request. We were rushed for time, so a quick breakfast dinner it was. Scrambled eggs with parmesan cheese, hashbrowns (just cubed up potatoes that I pan fried), toast, and pancakes. Definitely lacking a green vegetable, but we did have fresh homemade guacamole for lunch. A lot. That makes up for it, right? 

And the pancakes! Bursting with blueberries, cranberries, flax seed, and oatmeal.

 A veritable mountain of pancake deliciousness. And enough leftover to warm and have for breakfast tomorrow morning. Can't wait to have breakfast for breakfast.

Happy Thanksgiving

This long weekend was spent close to my favourite people, and eating, eating, eating. We had ham, scalloped potatoes, macaroni and cheese, cornbread, peas, and peach pie with ice cream for dessert. 

Oh my.

And for breakfast, leftover cornbread with maple syrup. Have you tried this? I remember someone telling me this was a good thing. Ummmmm, YEAH. My daughter wants to eat it everyday.

I hope everyone has as much to be thankful for as we do. Happy Thanksgiving.
 

Dinosaur Therapy

Today was one of those days. It was a hard day, and it came on the heels of a rather hard week. Little A has had a week of meltdowns and tantrums. There has been yelling and crying and weeping and whining. My poor girl is utterly exhausted with the daily job of just getting through school. And my heart breaks for her.

But today, a little sun. I was making dinner and watched as dinosaurs began to make their way in. Two by two, they were quietly marched in by little hands and quiet roars. There were no words, and no more conversations designed to help her cope. There were only dinosaurs. And lots of play. Dinosaur eggs were hatching! And as A organized her safe little world, I saw the weight of all her worries drift away.

Oh, how I love her. And oh, how I love those dinosaurs.

Searching for the Metaphorical Bucket

We were at our favourite Chinese restaurant for dinner, when my daughter (with a mouth stuffed full of vegetarian spring rolls) asked,

"Daddy, did someone fill your bucket up today?"

"What bucket?"

"You know, your bucket!"

"I don't know what bucket you're talking about. What does it look like?"

"I don't know what it looks like because it's invisible. We all have buckets. Mommy too. Mommy filled mine up today by playing dinosaurs and Yahtzee with me."

"Ohhhhh, is this something you learned in school today?"

Yup. My daughter had "Fill a Bucket : A Guide to Daily Happiness for Young Children" read to her at school.

A charming story about how people carry around invisible buckets with them. The buckets are filled by good thoughts and actions, and the buckets are emptied by mean thoughts or actions. And my daughter actually did seem to understand the abstract idea of good thoughts/actions filling up her (and other peoples) bucket.

But, as many parents of children with Aspergers Disorder knows, she also took the concept quite literally. Later that night we went to the library to find this very book. And my daughter whispered to me in embarrassment,

"Mommy, I know my bucket is in my hand, but why can't I feel it? And what colour is it? And how big? And I thought you told me that things couldn't really be invisible except for things like the wind. But I can feel the wind. I can't feel my bucket. Can you feel yours? And what does it fill up with?"

I explained that the bucket was another way of saying happiness. That "filling up someone's bucket" was another way to say that you were making them happy. Well. She didn't understand why someone wouldn't just say, "making someone happy." Why bother with all the bucket nonsense? Why not just say what you mean, instead of confusing everybody (by which she meant her.)

"Mommy, can you read this whole book to me again. But, this time, don't say bucket. Say happy."

Silly metaphors.

Cabbage Tastes Weird

Last night we had cabbage rolls for dinner. A first for my daughter. 

 "So, what do you think of cabbage rolls?"

 "They're pretty yummy, and I'm gonna eat it all up, but I really think cabbage tastes weird."

 "What do you mean it tastes weird?"

"I just mean it tastes weird. The taste is so weird."

"Then why are you going to eat it all up? You know, if it tastes weird?"

"Because the meat tastes soooooo yummy!" 

And she did. She ate it all up. And then for dessert we had blueberry-cranberry oatmeal muffins. Which were not weird tasting at all.

Sleepovers and Accidents

Tomorrow, me and my girl are having a girls night in! I asked her if she would ever consider having a sleepover with a friend, and she told me that she'd like to have a sleepover with me. Well, I think this is a brilliant idea. Her Aspergers may keep her from wanting an actual other human being around her all night, but damned if we'll let that stop us.

There will be chips and dip, ice cream (of course!), strawberry lemonade - Emeril Lagasse's recipe - with flat water rather than sparkling water (as bubbles in her drinks aren't at all pleasurable for her). Such a wonderfully girly drink, no? And daddy will be bringing home an olive and green pepper pizza after work. We are going to play dinosaurs, and I have picked a nice make believe game of hairdresser to play afterward. Then, to end the night, warm milk with maple syrup, while tucked under a quilt to watch "Ice Age - Dawn of the Dinosaurs" - her all time favourite movie.

No mommy duty tomorrow. Which is nice - I can forget about the fact that I somehow broke the garage door yesterday morning (repair man coming to see why the door is cracked at the top, and to see if the springs are about to . . . well, unspring). I can also forget about the fact that my  container of hand wipes leaked sanitizing fluid all over my cell phone, which is no longer turning on. My purse is a sopping mess, but at least it's clean. Oh, and did I mention that I accidentally smashed my husband's laptop into oblivion a couple of months ago by dropping a hand weight on it? And let's not forget the incident last month when I spilled hot coffee all over my laptop rendering my keyboard useless. My clever husband took the keyboard off his old laptop (you know, the one I smashed) and put it on my laptop. I do believe he is getting fed up with all my "accidents." 

Yup. Tomorrow I am a 5 year old girl at a sleepover. And no one can get mad at a 5 year old for accidentally breaking anything.

A Colour of Her Own

Last year, my daughter brought home the cutest little picture of a chameleon she had painted in her pre-kindergarten class. Splashed in the most glorious shades of pink, green, blue, and purple (in spectacular shiny paint!) I immediately fell in love with the painted creature, and hung it right above my computer.  Then, two days ago I saw this same little critter on the cover of a book! A trip to the library with my daughter revealed that this charming chameleon is actually a character in a children's book written by Leo Lionni, titled "A Color of His Own." A wonderful little story about a sad chameleon who wants nothing more than a colour to call his own. Desperate, he decides to plant himself on a green leaf, and never move again - he will be a green! But, autumn comes, the leaf turns yellow and red, and the chameleon is sad again. That is, until another chameleon comes along. The two (happy) friends set off together, proud of who they are.

Reading the little fable, I realized something about my little girl, who has Aspergers. She has never been like other girls her age. Ever. Well, except for the fact that her favourite colour is pink. Most little girls like dolls, and babies. Princesses, puppies, ponies, and bunnies all come to mind. You know - sugar and spice and everything nice? Well, my girl likes dinosaurs. She almost can't stand how cute they are. She plays carnivores trying to eat herbivores, and the herbivores protecting themselves with all that nature has given them - horns, spikes, club tails, armoured bodies. You will hear her in her room, roaring like a dinosaur for most of the day. And she won't go anywhere without a dinosaur or two clutched in her hands. 

Here is the worst part. When her obsession with dinosaurs started a year ago, I did everything in my power to dissuade her from it. I told her to put the dinosaur toys away at the store, and I would point her in the direction of the "girl" toys. I even went as far as to tell her that dinosaurs were for boys (gasp!) Shame on me. I was making her sad, just like the chameleon in the story. I wanted her to be the same colour as all the other girls around her. But, her colours are different. And I can't imagine how I must have made her feel by telling her she needed to change her colours. I mean really, it's probably going to be difficult enough for her to fit in, without mommy telling her she needs to try harder.
Won't. Happen. Ever. Again.

She has yet to find her other chameleon, but she will. And she will be happy because she will find someone with colours like hers. In the meantime, mommy and daddy are here loving her colours.  And if you ever happen to walk by our colourful little house, you will probably  hear three little dinosaurs happily roaring inside.