Sigh. Bad day. We all have them, but I swear they sneak up on me! I hate it when I have no patience for the billionth request and I snap. I want to give the best of myself to her and sometimes I don't. I find myself trying to take deep breaths and counting. She always knows when I've had it and asks "Are you happy with me? Do you love me?" I assure her. I label my feelings. I make sure to say every time that I always love her even when I don't like her behavior.
I'm tired. The expectations are so HIGH. I know, I set them. I wouldn't be satisfied otherwise.
Aye me.
Showing posts with label ASD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ASD. Show all posts
Monday, March 21, 2011
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Piper's Dad
Piper's Dad loves her. Having a relationship with her Dad is important to her. I want what is best for her despite my own feelings and preferences. I've learned a great deal this past year of Mothering. Pie's Dad was NOT capable of caring for her (or even himself for that matter) and it was a fact I had to face and fast! Despite his objections (or hissy fits) it was clear that their visits had to be supervised. I held my ground and despite his constant pressure I maintained my resolve. For a solid 6 months I slowly increased his time with her while slowly relaxing the supervision until he was comfortable being her caregiver and I was confident that she was safe. I had seen enough improvement to allow Piper to be cared for by him alone.
It was a hard row to hoe. It meant having him in my home, and being around him more than I cared to be. It was worth it every time Piper spoke of her Father with pride. She began quoting him to me "my Dad said...". It helped me see that while his role will never be the same as mine in her life, it's a very important role.
I am committed to making my daughter's life as wonderful as it deserves to be. I will do whatever it takes to make that happen. I will shape her exposure to her father in such a way that he is able to show her the best of him and hopefully she will forget the times when she saw him at his worst.
We are still working this out, the Dad time. It's a work in process.
That, my friends, is progress.
It was a hard row to hoe. It meant having him in my home, and being around him more than I cared to be. It was worth it every time Piper spoke of her Father with pride. She began quoting him to me "my Dad said...". It helped me see that while his role will never be the same as mine in her life, it's a very important role.
I am committed to making my daughter's life as wonderful as it deserves to be. I will do whatever it takes to make that happen. I will shape her exposure to her father in such a way that he is able to show her the best of him and hopefully she will forget the times when she saw him at his worst.
We are still working this out, the Dad time. It's a work in process.
That, my friends, is progress.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
EFFFFFFFFFF
I am a great problem solver. At work, all day long I fix things; I help people, I give clear direction, I have the answers. I am confident that if I cannot solve the problem I can find the person who will. I know what to do. I create good outcomes. At work.
I'm lucky, I really know this. I don't complain often.
It's so frustrating though to come home and feel so lost, so confused, so unsure, so unprepared for this thing that is my life.
Can I tell you about sometimes? Do you know about sometimes?
Autisim sucks.
I'm lucky, I really know this. I don't complain often.
It's so frustrating though to come home and feel so lost, so confused, so unsure, so unprepared for this thing that is my life.
Can I tell you about sometimes? Do you know about sometimes?
Autisim sucks.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Spooked?
Halloween. I loooooooove Halloween. Being an (resting) actress I have, shall we say, a flair for the dramatic. I love that on Halloween the world belongs, for just that one day, to the Freaks. My people.
I trick or treated until my junior year in high school. I remember this last pilgrimage with relish. We'd laughed so hard! Making so much of the fact that we were getting away with participating in what is largely seen as an activity for small children. The comments from the people giving us the candy asking "how old are you?" made us howl. I did get the message though. I was too old to go door to door and ask for candy, at my age it was viewed as begging. I continued to dress up every year though, and quests for candy turned into party hopping.
My costumes became less gruesome and more clever. I was a cereal killer wielding a box of Grape Nuts and a fake machete. I queried the host of every gathering asking if there were any Fruit Loops about. I often would get so into the character of my costume I had an accent or an affected way of speaking and would relate to everyone all night as whatever character I had adopted. This soon became my Halloween tradition, the costume with a story. I couldn't just dress as a woman from the renaissance nooo. I was Inga and I had lost my cow and he was brown, and so I spent the night asking strangers where he could be, introducing myself and asking" have you seen my cow?". In a Barret and tight sweater I was Lulu the french girl, new in town with no idea what this holiday we call.."'ow you say? 'alloween?" ( french people don't pronounce the H). I was so convincing I fooled many many people that night. The anonymity. The feeling that we were all participating in a shared commitment to the holiday; made me bold. I would approach any stranger and I used this feeling to approach boys. The cutest of boys, and they were charmed by me and it felt soooo good.
Why wouldn't I love Halloween when it transformed me in this way? I especially love it here in my fair city of freaks and weirdos. This town throws down with the Halloween spirit like nobodies business!
After I had Piper this all changed, of course. I was thrilled with the idea of soon being able to go trick or treating again. I would reclaim it like an item from the lost and found. Her first Halloween we attended a party like we'd always done before. It was great for the first hour or so we were dressed gardeners and Pie was a pumpkin (haha a pumpkin Pie). I spent the first hour showing off my prize "crop" and making, what I am sure were, witty puns about what I "grew from seed", saying "she's organic!". Then one of the party goers arrived with a dog in costume. She had already seen another dog wearing a cape but this one had on a man' s shirt and for some reason it completely upset her! She was terrified and I couldn't soothe her so home we went!
The second year we stayed home and passed out candy. I was rainy and cold and I figured we would attempt trick or treating when she was a bit older and could enjoy it more. Her third year she refused to wear her costume. The one she'd begged for and worn all week. I was frustrated but just put a Halloween tee on her and we passed out candy again instead of trick or treating.
It just all seemed like too much for her. I decided to scrap the whole idea and learned to let Piper guide me. I wouldn't emotionally commit one way or the other. Would she wear her costume? Who knows! Will she enjoy the party? Maybe! Will she have a meltdown? Could be! I would just shrug my shoulders and accept. With my new attitude I was ready to face another Halloween.
I would embrace a different way of thinking.
Guess what? It totally worked. We made adaptable plans with some friends in the neighborhood to meet at our house and if Piper felt like dressing up, we would. If after visiting with her friend, she felt like walking with them around the neighborhood, we would. So we did, and it worked, and Mom was happy!
This year armed with my new attitude and plan for action we will be celebrating again. Bring it ON!
I trick or treated until my junior year in high school. I remember this last pilgrimage with relish. We'd laughed so hard! Making so much of the fact that we were getting away with participating in what is largely seen as an activity for small children. The comments from the people giving us the candy asking "how old are you?" made us howl. I did get the message though. I was too old to go door to door and ask for candy, at my age it was viewed as begging. I continued to dress up every year though, and quests for candy turned into party hopping.
My costumes became less gruesome and more clever. I was a cereal killer wielding a box of Grape Nuts and a fake machete. I queried the host of every gathering asking if there were any Fruit Loops about. I often would get so into the character of my costume I had an accent or an affected way of speaking and would relate to everyone all night as whatever character I had adopted. This soon became my Halloween tradition, the costume with a story. I couldn't just dress as a woman from the renaissance nooo. I was Inga and I had lost my cow and he was brown, and so I spent the night asking strangers where he could be, introducing myself and asking" have you seen my cow?". In a Barret and tight sweater I was Lulu the french girl, new in town with no idea what this holiday we call.."'ow you say? 'alloween?" ( french people don't pronounce the H). I was so convincing I fooled many many people that night. The anonymity. The feeling that we were all participating in a shared commitment to the holiday; made me bold. I would approach any stranger and I used this feeling to approach boys. The cutest of boys, and they were charmed by me and it felt soooo good.
Why wouldn't I love Halloween when it transformed me in this way? I especially love it here in my fair city of freaks and weirdos. This town throws down with the Halloween spirit like nobodies business!
After I had Piper this all changed, of course. I was thrilled with the idea of soon being able to go trick or treating again. I would reclaim it like an item from the lost and found. Her first Halloween we attended a party like we'd always done before. It was great for the first hour or so we were dressed gardeners and Pie was a pumpkin (haha a pumpkin Pie). I spent the first hour showing off my prize "crop" and making, what I am sure were, witty puns about what I "grew from seed", saying "she's organic!". Then one of the party goers arrived with a dog in costume. She had already seen another dog wearing a cape but this one had on a man' s shirt and for some reason it completely upset her! She was terrified and I couldn't soothe her so home we went!
The second year we stayed home and passed out candy. I was rainy and cold and I figured we would attempt trick or treating when she was a bit older and could enjoy it more. Her third year she refused to wear her costume. The one she'd begged for and worn all week. I was frustrated but just put a Halloween tee on her and we passed out candy again instead of trick or treating.
It just all seemed like too much for her. I decided to scrap the whole idea and learned to let Piper guide me. I wouldn't emotionally commit one way or the other. Would she wear her costume? Who knows! Will she enjoy the party? Maybe! Will she have a meltdown? Could be! I would just shrug my shoulders and accept. With my new attitude I was ready to face another Halloween.
I would embrace a different way of thinking.
Guess what? It totally worked. We made adaptable plans with some friends in the neighborhood to meet at our house and if Piper felt like dressing up, we would. If after visiting with her friend, she felt like walking with them around the neighborhood, we would. So we did, and it worked, and Mom was happy!
This year armed with my new attitude and plan for action we will be celebrating again. Bring it ON!
Friday, October 22, 2010
See you at the Pancake Breakfast!
We recently made a trek to the coast to enjoy a little r&r. We camped at a KOA which was AWESOME! So many cool activites and an indoor pool. Piper LOVED it. There was even a daily pancake breakfast that was included in our cabin rental (that's right we "camped" in a cabin with beds. bliss).
Piper is socialy motivated. She wants to interact with everyone. EVERYONE. Once we began unpacking the car and loading in, she was already ramping up. Our cabin was located on the end of the row near the bathroom. This meant everyone on our row had to pass our camp when they needed to use the bathroom. As soon as she saw people passing Piper was at hand with the invites : "Do you want to come roast marshmallows with us?". I could see where this was headed and after a long car ride I just wanted to veg, not facillitate. In a moment of quick thinking I assured her that we would see them the following morning at the pancake breakfast and suggested she come join us by the fire. And so it began.
Now instead of inviting people to our camp she had a script and simply greeted every person that she saw with "I'll see you at the pancake breakfast!" in her litlting tone. I must confess; I giggled. For three nights and four days she greeted every person we saw at the KOA with "I'll see you at the pancake breakfast".
On our last night there one family made thier way to the bathroom and Piper said her greeting and then 10 minutes later on thier way back she was ready to do the same. I stopped her. For four days I had been listening to this exchange and this group of invitee's wasn't finding it amusing and my patience had worn and well I'd had enough. I leaned in close to her while they approached said "Piper you already invited them no need to say it". At this moment they began to pass us and Piper opened her mouth to speak and instead whispered like a creeper "I'll see you at the pancake breakfast". I laughed. Out loud. It was so absurdly funny, by trying to modify I had actualy made it worse! She sounded like a serial killer!
Ahhh the lessons this kid teaches me; leave well enough alone.
Piper is socialy motivated. She wants to interact with everyone. EVERYONE. Once we began unpacking the car and loading in, she was already ramping up. Our cabin was located on the end of the row near the bathroom. This meant everyone on our row had to pass our camp when they needed to use the bathroom. As soon as she saw people passing Piper was at hand with the invites : "Do you want to come roast marshmallows with us?". I could see where this was headed and after a long car ride I just wanted to veg, not facillitate. In a moment of quick thinking I assured her that we would see them the following morning at the pancake breakfast and suggested she come join us by the fire. And so it began.
Now instead of inviting people to our camp she had a script and simply greeted every person that she saw with "I'll see you at the pancake breakfast!" in her litlting tone. I must confess; I giggled. For three nights and four days she greeted every person we saw at the KOA with "I'll see you at the pancake breakfast".
On our last night there one family made thier way to the bathroom and Piper said her greeting and then 10 minutes later on thier way back she was ready to do the same. I stopped her. For four days I had been listening to this exchange and this group of invitee's wasn't finding it amusing and my patience had worn and well I'd had enough. I leaned in close to her while they approached said "Piper you already invited them no need to say it". At this moment they began to pass us and Piper opened her mouth to speak and instead whispered like a creeper "I'll see you at the pancake breakfast". I laughed. Out loud. It was so absurdly funny, by trying to modify I had actualy made it worse! She sounded like a serial killer!
Ahhh the lessons this kid teaches me; leave well enough alone.
Friday, June 11, 2010
On the Bench
I always knew I would be a Mom. It was a certainty. I had no real idea what form of motherhood I would be blessed with but I was ready for it all. Step child? no problem, I'm from a blended family myself. Adopted? I'd raise her and love her like my own. Bio Mom? Sure thing!
Of course, I wasn't prepared to have a child with special needs. It never even crossed my mind and I scoffed at Piper's dad when he brought it up during my pregnanacy. Bah! Those things happen to other people not me and my precious girl.
Don't you just love how life comes along to educate you?
So here I am in the full bloom of motherhood 7 years later. Rasing a beautiful soul who was an enexpected but welcome gift to my life. She's made me rich. I have lovingly (and sometimes painfully) received every gift she has offered. I'm trying my best to give her what she needs.
One of Piper's favorite activites is to swim. It looks more like organized drowning but she's happy and safe so who cares? I'll tell ya who. The bench. Do you have this bench at your activites? The bench of the typical Moms sitting on the sidelines chatting casualy with eachother? Talking about typical things?
I'm gonna be honest, I HATE that damm bench.
I'm exhausted by the time we get to these things since I begin my day at 3:30am every day. By the time we get to swim I've worked an 8 hour day, rushed to get Pie from school, had snack and playtime and then rushed out again for the activity. Sometimes I just want to enjoy my girl and not have to be the "advocate" the "educator". I just want to sit there and watch my baby's joy. Piper loves the water. LOVES it. She is as fond of a pool as she is of a puddle or a bath. Water makes her happy and calm. Mostly. The local pool we swim at is a flurry of activity. There are 3 classes going on simultaneously and a radio on playing music over the PA. We've had moslty group lesson for cost reasons and have had minimal success staying focused. I have worked with the staff closely to reduce the outside distractions (the radio is now off for her lessons and the swim meet teacher doesn't yell as much). We've made adaptations to help Piper but it's still challenging for the teacher to focus on her as well as the other kids cause Pie is so distracted she doesn't stay with the group. As a result, everyone within ear shot knows my daughter's name. To the uneducated her behavior looks like she's and out of controll, spoiled kid who wont listen to the teacher. To the trained eye she presents as a socialy motivated kid with ASD. I don't enjoy sitting on that bench with the other mothers. I can feel the looks from the other parents as they begin to see her differences. It's hard to watch her struggle with, what are for me, simple requests. That half hour has seemed like agony and I can't say how many times I wanted to crawl under a rock. Ugh.
Guess what I did?
I've changed my strategy!
PRIVATE lessons. Oh la la we are so chic! I had a preconcieved idea that private lesson are for "wealthy" kids and not po'folk like ourselves but I finaly investigated and it is NOT out of our range. It's the perfect solution and she is learning and thriving! We may go back to group lessons someday but for now this is what's working. Her teacher is patient and kind and has worked with other ASD kids, and best of all she is completly focused on Piper alone for a full half hour.
You know what else is working? I am enjoying the bench. I'm not chatting up the other moms yet, but I am getting more comfortable. I no longer sit in vigil evey muscle tense waiting to spring up and help out or willing Piper to perform. I can just relax and trust her teacher is keeping her engaged and safe. It's no longer obvious to everyone withinn earshot that my gal struggles. I call that a victory.
Of course, I wasn't prepared to have a child with special needs. It never even crossed my mind and I scoffed at Piper's dad when he brought it up during my pregnanacy. Bah! Those things happen to other people not me and my precious girl.
Don't you just love how life comes along to educate you?
So here I am in the full bloom of motherhood 7 years later. Rasing a beautiful soul who was an enexpected but welcome gift to my life. She's made me rich. I have lovingly (and sometimes painfully) received every gift she has offered. I'm trying my best to give her what she needs.
One of Piper's favorite activites is to swim. It looks more like organized drowning but she's happy and safe so who cares? I'll tell ya who. The bench. Do you have this bench at your activites? The bench of the typical Moms sitting on the sidelines chatting casualy with eachother? Talking about typical things?
I'm gonna be honest, I HATE that damm bench.
I'm exhausted by the time we get to these things since I begin my day at 3:30am every day. By the time we get to swim I've worked an 8 hour day, rushed to get Pie from school, had snack and playtime and then rushed out again for the activity. Sometimes I just want to enjoy my girl and not have to be the "advocate" the "educator". I just want to sit there and watch my baby's joy. Piper loves the water. LOVES it. She is as fond of a pool as she is of a puddle or a bath. Water makes her happy and calm. Mostly. The local pool we swim at is a flurry of activity. There are 3 classes going on simultaneously and a radio on playing music over the PA. We've had moslty group lesson for cost reasons and have had minimal success staying focused. I have worked with the staff closely to reduce the outside distractions (the radio is now off for her lessons and the swim meet teacher doesn't yell as much). We've made adaptations to help Piper but it's still challenging for the teacher to focus on her as well as the other kids cause Pie is so distracted she doesn't stay with the group. As a result, everyone within ear shot knows my daughter's name. To the uneducated her behavior looks like she's and out of controll, spoiled kid who wont listen to the teacher. To the trained eye she presents as a socialy motivated kid with ASD. I don't enjoy sitting on that bench with the other mothers. I can feel the looks from the other parents as they begin to see her differences. It's hard to watch her struggle with, what are for me, simple requests. That half hour has seemed like agony and I can't say how many times I wanted to crawl under a rock. Ugh.
Guess what I did?
I've changed my strategy!
PRIVATE lessons. Oh la la we are so chic! I had a preconcieved idea that private lesson are for "wealthy" kids and not po'folk like ourselves but I finaly investigated and it is NOT out of our range. It's the perfect solution and she is learning and thriving! We may go back to group lessons someday but for now this is what's working. Her teacher is patient and kind and has worked with other ASD kids, and best of all she is completly focused on Piper alone for a full half hour.
You know what else is working? I am enjoying the bench. I'm not chatting up the other moms yet, but I am getting more comfortable. I no longer sit in vigil evey muscle tense waiting to spring up and help out or willing Piper to perform. I can just relax and trust her teacher is keeping her engaged and safe. It's no longer obvious to everyone withinn earshot that my gal struggles. I call that a victory.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Meltdown Monday
One of Pie's favorite books of the moment is titled "Mixed up Monday". It's a ESL tome aimed at helping children who primarily speak Spanish understand some of the nuances of the English language. Guess what? It helps my kid with autism understand those nuances too! Our wonderful Librarian Miss N suggested it and Piper has lovingly scripted it and made it part of her daily vocabulary. The book features the members of a family accidentally receiving the wrong bags at the start of thier day and in turn they each have the wrong supplies for participating in thier preffered activity. Their things are all mixed up! One of the girls ends up with her sisters swim suit instead of her dance shoes. The book illuminates how it is possible to make the best of what you've got by using creative problem solving. There are loads of opportunities to create a conversation with your child using the book as a foundation. Wonderful!
This book showed up in our life in a rather ironic way yesterday.
We had a Meltdown Monday.
Piper is usualy quite easy for me to navigate. Sure, I've had my moments. Haven't we all? I have learned from those times past though and I have a TON of patience which really helps. I have been at this for several years and Piper has really progressed. I am not a superwoman, I just know my child very well and I do my best to steer and guide her through the landmines life loves to lay in her path. It is not possible every time, as you know, but I succeed most of the time. Which makes it harder when it bites me in the arse. Ouch.
It began with a little thing, as it always does. A forgotten toy. A rushed exit. A rushed parting of ways. No going back. We must accept the toy is left and begin anew. Move on. Can you see where this is going?
MELTDOWN
We were out in public of course. I carry screaming Piper a block to get her in the car where she can rage safely. She yells "get away from me" which is disconcerting to passersby as they think something is amiss. This is when I wish for a sign on a stick, like a protester; "My Child is having a Meltdown, Bring Liquor". We sit in the car for what feels like forever and she is lost, inconsolable and out of reach. She finaly calms enough for me to drive. I start the car and drive a few blocks and she begins screaming with renewed vigor so I pull over. Next, I do what I am not proud to admit, I lose it all over her there on the side of the road. Ugg. We are both yelling and I tell her I am sick of this crap and she has to calm down. I just want to go home. Yeah, great parenting. I should get an award huh?
We're finaly calm enough to finish the drive home, both of us red faced and blotchy from crying.
Piper says, "It was a mixed up Monday".
Indeed.
This book showed up in our life in a rather ironic way yesterday.
We had a Meltdown Monday.
Piper is usualy quite easy for me to navigate. Sure, I've had my moments. Haven't we all? I have learned from those times past though and I have a TON of patience which really helps. I have been at this for several years and Piper has really progressed. I am not a superwoman, I just know my child very well and I do my best to steer and guide her through the landmines life loves to lay in her path. It is not possible every time, as you know, but I succeed most of the time. Which makes it harder when it bites me in the arse. Ouch.
It began with a little thing, as it always does. A forgotten toy. A rushed exit. A rushed parting of ways. No going back. We must accept the toy is left and begin anew. Move on. Can you see where this is going?
MELTDOWN
We were out in public of course. I carry screaming Piper a block to get her in the car where she can rage safely. She yells "get away from me" which is disconcerting to passersby as they think something is amiss. This is when I wish for a sign on a stick, like a protester; "My Child is having a Meltdown, Bring Liquor". We sit in the car for what feels like forever and she is lost, inconsolable and out of reach. She finaly calms enough for me to drive. I start the car and drive a few blocks and she begins screaming with renewed vigor so I pull over. Next, I do what I am not proud to admit, I lose it all over her there on the side of the road. Ugg. We are both yelling and I tell her I am sick of this crap and she has to calm down. I just want to go home. Yeah, great parenting. I should get an award huh?
We're finaly calm enough to finish the drive home, both of us red faced and blotchy from crying.
Piper says, "It was a mixed up Monday".
Indeed.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
She is trying to maniplulate me! YAY!
Piper's fine motor skills are well..shall we say..a bit unfocused. Oh heck we're all friends here : she sucks at using scissors. She preforms most tasks that require coordination as if she were a giant person forced to live in a really tiny house. Everything is foreign and nothing seems to fit.
May I make a confession? I giggle uncontrollably during her dance classes. She lumbers about the veritable bull in the china shop. That however is not (entirely) where the laughing comes from. It's the sheer delight in her face as she's prancing around the dance room admiring herself in the mirror only able to focus on herself. Her attention flits in and out, sometimes the instructor is able to engage her sometimes not. I laugh in relief, joy and pure love.
Anyway back to the scizzors, Pie cant use 'em so she is constantly trying to get me to cut her pictures out after hastily scribbling them with marker. She finds these tiny tiny parts to color, always animals and wants me to cut. cut. cut. I humor her for a few but then when it becomes well, obsessive, I draw the line and say I will do more cutting tomorrow.
This is where the manipulation comes in, she hears me say "I'm tired of cutting now" and counters with "Mommy you're not tired, you're healthy". With a melodramatic flair she hugs me and kisses my cheek and says "Oh Mommy you're the best cutter. You're the best maker! You're strong and healthy" and then she shows me her "guns" in a moc strong man pose.
Get's me every time.
Cut. Cut. Cut.
May I make a confession? I giggle uncontrollably during her dance classes. She lumbers about the veritable bull in the china shop. That however is not (entirely) where the laughing comes from. It's the sheer delight in her face as she's prancing around the dance room admiring herself in the mirror only able to focus on herself. Her attention flits in and out, sometimes the instructor is able to engage her sometimes not. I laugh in relief, joy and pure love.
Anyway back to the scizzors, Pie cant use 'em so she is constantly trying to get me to cut her pictures out after hastily scribbling them with marker. She finds these tiny tiny parts to color, always animals and wants me to cut. cut. cut. I humor her for a few but then when it becomes well, obsessive, I draw the line and say I will do more cutting tomorrow.
This is where the manipulation comes in, she hears me say "I'm tired of cutting now" and counters with "Mommy you're not tired, you're healthy". With a melodramatic flair she hugs me and kisses my cheek and says "Oh Mommy you're the best cutter. You're the best maker! You're strong and healthy" and then she shows me her "guns" in a moc strong man pose.
Get's me every time.
Cut. Cut. Cut.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Sign Sign Everywhere a Sign...
"Sign Sign everywhere a sign
Blocking out the scenery breaking my mind
Do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign?"
Pipes has been a sign making fool as of late. She has a new fascination with the type of sign that features the red circle with a slash through it and understands that this means no. I am now newly acquainted with every type of place you see these types of signs about town. I'm sure you saw that coming but I just felt the need to mention it anyway.
So she has been drawing these hilarious versions of the signs at home. She made one for the bathroom it says: No dogs on you. Bathroom. Means you. I was
I'm not sure how dogs being on people in bathrooms offended her so much that it became outlawed round these here parts but you better not even think about it, there's a prohibitory sign!
Friday, October 23, 2009
What Would Oprah Do?
I'm blogging on a Friday night. I'm a single mom so there are few other prospects for fun. Alas, I promised Oprah so...
I share a desk at work. The desk space is so valuable that every minute my office is open it must be utilized. Ok, not really I'm just one of the few lucky ones on the 5am crew up to greet the East Coast each day and so my desk is available at 1:30pm. At which time I leave it's Formica goodness and run my butt down to pick up my gal from school.
My desk mate is a sweet woman who is very respectful and shares well. We decorate our little corner of the world. All of the ladies do. ( Did I mention I work with 99% women? Oh yeah, well I do.) Her contributions to our shared space are thought provoking and interesting. Some are just plain funny. We need the humor, as our jobs can be quite stressful.
She has among her other treasures, a photocopied picture of Oprah. Old school O, with her news anchor hair and her patented 'youcantrustme smile'. On the pic is a post-it that says W.W.O.D.?
I often find myself giggling at the idea of her asking herself this, pondering the her own Oprahness.
But I really do wonder sometimes, "What would Oprah do?"
I share a desk at work. The desk space is so valuable that every minute my office is open it must be utilized. Ok, not really I'm just one of the few lucky ones on the 5am crew up to greet the East Coast each day and so my desk is available at 1:30pm. At which time I leave it's Formica goodness and run my butt down to pick up my gal from school.
My desk mate is a sweet woman who is very respectful and shares well. We decorate our little corner of the world. All of the ladies do. ( Did I mention I work with 99% women? Oh yeah, well I do.) Her contributions to our shared space are thought provoking and interesting. Some are just plain funny. We need the humor, as our jobs can be quite stressful.
She has among her other treasures, a photocopied picture of Oprah. Old school O, with her news anchor hair and her patented 'youcantrustme smile'. On the pic is a post-it that says W.W.O.D.?
I often find myself giggling at the idea of her asking herself this, pondering the her own Oprahness.
But I really do wonder sometimes, "What would Oprah do?"
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