Chicago Moms Blog

The Special Needs Mom Versus "The Future"

Something a special needs mom reacts differently to, is the word "future."

We're used to running interference for our kids.  I imagine myself as a NFL center or tackle, trying to protect my quarterback son.  He's more vulnerable, not wearing a helmet, blinking behind his smudgy glasses, and he's trying to hurl that football past the goal.  Watching the field like a lioness, I anticipate where the game is headed, trying to minimize any potential blow.

On a chalkboard, John Madden like, I sketch out plays.

If we can teach him how to better organize and focus, he can do this... If he can learn to type fast, the handwriting won't matter...

My teenage son has Asperger's syndrome and has sensory integration issues.  Many of his teachers adore him.  He has a quirky sense of humor.  His many friends, other Aspies, often hang out at our home, howling at Jib Jab parodies and "Mystery Science Theater 3000" reruns.

Do Generations No Longer Mix?

In the back row of my aerobics class, I'm trying to hide how uncoordinated I am.  Surrounding me are pleasant women in their 40's, 50's, 60's and even 70's. 

Despite my clumsiness, I'd follow the instructors across marshes, lunar surfaces, rock cliffs or strapped to white water raft... that's how much they inspire me.

One morning, we dance with partners.  Dance?  Stagger is my version of 'dance.'  One twenty-something deliberately snubs me for another twenty-something.  Okay.  That's natural.  We humans gravitate toward others our own age.

No matter how friendly I am, she remains aloof, her expression almost stony.

I try not to take her rebuff personally, (but do).  Maybe I look like Quasimodo in sweats.  I pop a Tic Tac.  I'm upbeat.  The other women and I laugh about how silly we must look.

Then I notice something about the twenty-something.  She isn't that friendly to anyone who's o-l-d-e-r.

Hmm.

UPlifting!

How can an animated movie featuring an old man and a sweet, naive kid be so delightful?

Even the talking dog isn't a cynical know-it-all -- no, he acts like a real slobbering, adoring pooch. ("Squirrel!")  Kevin the bird almost sacrifices herself to help her new friends.

No flatulence-as-hilarity or slapstick stunts.

No sexuality.

No snark.

The adult takes charge.  "Stay here," Carl tells Russell in one perilous sequence. "You'll be safe.  I'll take care of it!"  Just like a good, responsible parent.

The child doesn't call the elderly man "geezer" or dismiss him as stupid.

A film with soul, love, heartbreak, humor and suspense.  A story about dreams deferred, realized and reevaluated. 

I'm still shaking my head.

We Need a Recess From Recession

My husband is an IT gunslinger, a technical guru with a holster full of expertise, spanning hardware, software, connectivity, accounting and business systems -- you name it.  He has developed computer software applications for the Fortune 500, made presentations to CEO's, CFO's and CIO's and gave management the reality check when others wouldn't.  Coworkers nicknamed him "Google" because he'd land on the right page, provide the right answer.

Tall, brash, smart, he's got a little more of John Wayne in him than "Entourage," and is several thousand light years from a metrosexual. 

And he is out of work.

He's between contracts, assignment-less for the past three months.  We've discussed, ad nauseam, the outsourcing of IT jobs and help desks to India, China and the Philippines.  My husband's debated world trade versus globalization at many dinner parties.  He and his IT colleagues have watched hundreds of jobs be funneled overseas.  Workers on Visa 401B's have been brought over to the U.S. to work.  American software engineers either re-train or lose their homes.

Teaching Kids That Life Isn't Easy

Most of today's children's entertainment is predictable.  The cool character tells the geek how to be trendy and/or popular.  The thin plot consists of slapstick, burps and flatulence, celebrating immature behavior and played for cheap laughs.

As the kids dip into the remainder of their snacks, I dip into an Extra Strength bottle of Tylenol.

In an effort to keep our children entertained with harmless, frothy fun, do animated films (and other shows) miss a chance to teach them something deeper?

In search of more meaningful fare, my youngest son and I have been reading "Black Beauty," a classic by Anne Sewell.  It's probably best appreciated by an older child.  The animals face many perils which may be too intense for younger kids.

Compelling and heartbreaking, "Black Beauty" is a horse with a gentle, observant nature, who starts life under idyllic conditions.

Shaking a Baby... For Laughs

A close friend alerted me to a new iPod game called "Baby Shaker."  Players shake their iPods as an infant cries.  When the baby "dies," the player wins.

Apple pulled the controversial game, and it's sparked outrage.

The comments under the link above spill over with the predictable Internet invectives.  This kind of vitriol is splintering our country into fringe stereotypes.  Conservative prudes.  Liberal bacchanalians.  Nothing goes.  Anything goes.  All feel they own the truth.  The bickering about morality falls into the same arguments.  "Control freaks."  "Hippie holdovers."  "God nuts."  And so forth.

We middle grounders tiptoe around morality, lest we offend anyone.  But some of the evil that's on the Internet -- like child pornogrpahy -- needs some judging, needs a leader forceful enough to say this is absurd and destructive.  Our Founding Fathers never anticipated the dark side of the Internet or the vast American entertainment industry.  The more people get by with, the more they push the limits with childish glee.  "Look at me!  Aren't I shocking you?  I'm so controversial!"

Why Is "Nice" Nerdy?

In an era where people are diagnosed with rampant David Spadeism, (symptoms include ridicule, sneers and putdowns), the moment I smile at someone, I sense he or she is wondering: "Is that woman mentally stable?"  "She want something from me?"  Or worse: "She coming on to me?"

Although I'm prone to Eeyore moments about the serious writers's publishing odds, my cheerfulness makes me feel like an endangered species -- endangered of being insulted or jeered at, that is.  Anyone from the vicinity of Mayberry is considered an unsophisticated hick -- a result of inbreeding.

Need evidence?  Turn on any sitcom and see the nice, values-oriented character get pummeled.

Recent surveys confirm Americans are alarmed about our rude culture.  We're angrier, coarser, and more vengeful.  Is there anyone louder than a rude person who's just been dissed, or whose vanity has been affronted?

Today, I'm surprised if I receive polite service.  I've grown accustomed to the exasperated exhales of clerks who feel their jobs are beneath them.

Teen Poll Says: Rihanna Had It Coming

Many years ago, a close male friend confessed he was involved with a histrionic, volatile woman.  During one argument, she hurled a can of corn at his head.  He managed to deflect it, but the heavy can clipped his hand, nearly breaking a finger.  Enraged, she charged at him, slapping at him wildly.  He resisted the urge to hit her back.  Instead, he reacted defensively, trying to restrain her arms at her side.

"I was taught to never hit a woman," he said.

Leap ahead to 2009, in the aftermath of the Rihanna / Chris Brown fracas.  My husband and I watch television.  The newscaster mentions an informal poll conducted in Boston.

Half the teens surveyed in the poll believed Rihanna was "at fault."

According to reports, Rihanna was furious that Brown received a text message from another woman.  On a spiteful impulse, she impaled Brown's face with one of her stilettos.  Brown was driving at the time.

Teenagers in the Boston survey felt Rihanna deserved her comeuppance, because she "started it."

Tidal TMI

Whether you're hetero, homo, metro or Jethro...

Please.

Keep your love life exploits to yourself.

Today, it's Too Much Information.  TMI.

Like the guy who smells like onion soup who blurts out in the dermatologist's waiting room, "What's the difference between herpes simplex and herpes complex?"

Covering my son's ears, I hiss, "One has a higher I.Q."

Nope.  I don't belong in this tell-all era where Lifetime showcases women who have secret hobbies, like partner swapping, ewww body piercings and Weird Al Yankovic records.  Let's face it, a Lifetime producer will never approach me.  My saucy wench days died the second I used a nursing pump.  So, yes, Lifetime.  I'm dull.  I offer zilch controversy.  My idea of risk and thrills is grabbing two napkins instead of one from the McDonald's condiment stand.

Before motherhood claimed my brain cells, I worked in corporations.

At one job, a particular staircase became as notorious as Monica's dress.  We'd walk by after lunch, see the yellow crime scene tape and chalk outline of an inflatable doll. 

Blog By The Throat

Sometimes, I think the Mob's running the Websphere.

Yep.  I feel my arm being twisted.  "Make me mad, (insert vulgarity here), and I'll load your blog with so many bleepin' censored's, your grandmother will feel them in her grave."

Friends who are courteous and thoughtful, stay far away from blogs and chat rooms.  "I'm too scared to post a reply," said one.  "I'd get reamed."

As another friend pointed out, anonymity and zero accountability leads to some big-time Nasty.  The Internet thrives on Unabloggers.  Opinions are somehow twisted and exhorted as the truth.  People spout whatever impulsive thought they have, no matter how banal or thoughtless.

I found a news item online:

Logansport, Ind., (Sept. 27) -- Two dump trucks struck a school bus carrying special-needs students, leaving the bus in a ditch along a rural highway -- its front end and roof crushed -- and four young children dead.

Here were two comments about that story:

"Were they bobble heads?"

"Big deal... they were retards... it's not like we lost a few future NASA engineers."


When Tina Fey recently accepted her Golden Globe for "Best Actress in a Comedy/Musical TV Series," she mentioned two Internet haters, telling them to "suck it."