Words: When Children Learn Words They Ought Not to Know

"Mom," the conversation began, as oh so many do these days. I can tell from the tone of Brendan's voice that he has something important to tell me.

Usually when a conversation begins this way, it involves the newest cool trick he has learned in Lego Star Wars for the Wii
or some super-awesome-fantastically amazing-so-great-it-must-be-bought-today Star Wars toy.But not this time.

Now, let's pause for a moment... I bet you're thinking that whatever was coming my way was something that I was utterly unprepared for. And any other day besides today, you would have been right. I so did not see this coming. But thanks to fate, luck, the perfect alignment of just the right celestial bodies, and my super-awesome-fantastically amazing-so-great-I-don't-know-what-I'd-do-without-him husband, I was ready.

So, the conversation continued, "Mom, some of the kids at school told me and Peter that there's a word called fuck and that it's a bad word. But I don't believe them because I've never heard that word before. Peter didn't believe them either."

I must have stood staring at him for a full 10 seconds, mouth agape, completely in shock. In shock, not because my angelic-looking six-year old just dropped the f-bomb, a word, by the way, that I didn't learn until I was in fifth grade (Thanks, Renee, for corrupting me!). Well, at least not entirely because of that, because honestly, it was pretty shocking.

No, I was in shock that he'd never heard it. While my husband is someone always in control of the what he speaks, an artist and master of language who doles out his words carefully, with the precision of a Vegas dealer and rarely utters a cuss word unless it is demanded by the situation, I have the mouth of a sailor. More or less. Well, at least I did until Brendan came along.

Then, I took great pains to dial it back. I had no idea how successful I had been because I have only been aware of the times when I've missed the (effing) mark. Like the time we were watching The Simpsons and Homer yells "Dammit!*" And Brendan, in a burst of glee and triumph shouts, "Mom! That's what you always say!"

My daze of shock and awe over Brendan's discovery of this new verbal device was cut short as he pulled me back to the moment with his persistent questioning. "Well is it?"

"What?," I responded.

He gives me an exasperated sigh and hand gestures that demand my attention as he asks me again, "Is fuck a real word?"

And so, there I was, in the middle of the kitchen having one of those real-life teaching moments with my son, thinking, "I am so NOT ready for this. Not ready for my baby to be learning such bad words and who are these bad children who are teaching him this?" when I realized that I was ready.

Instantly, I flashed back to the evening before when Scott and I were sitting in bed and he read me this article. Can you believe that? Less than 24 hours earlier, my husband reads to me a random, but very funny and insightful, article from a dad dealing with exactly the same situation I found myself in? What kind of awesome luck is that?

So, I turned to Brendan and said, "Yes, honey, that is a real word. And it's the worst word you can possibly say. There is no word worse than that one and I hope that you'll choose never to say it to anyone. And by the way, who told you about it?"

He looked at me as if he had just learned the coolest thing in the world, saying, "Wow. I didn't know. I'm sorry I said it and I won't say it again," which I guess, is about the best you can hope for in that situation. I'm sure it will come up again. I just hope I'm lucky enough to have read someone else's witty response to their child the night before so I'll be prepared when it does.



*For some reason the bastardization of "damn it" to "dammit" bothers me. A lot. But when I hear Homer saying that line, I believe he's actually saying "Dammit!". So, that's what you get folks. Even if, technically, it's wrong.

Come Together: Help for Anissa Mayhew

In the span of less than 24 hours I've heard two horrible, heartbreaking stories that make me want to squeeze my husband and babies and hold them and not let them out of my sight.

First, last night I read about a fellow blogger and Twitter Mom, Anissa Mayhew, who had a massive stroke yesterday afternoon. Anissa is a very popular blogger and has three children. Her youngest, daughter Peyton, just celebrated one-year of being cancer free after fighting leukemia since she was 2 years old. How much can one family bear? And why should they have to bear so much. I find this especially horrifying for some reason. I don't know Anissa, but I feel for her as a fellow mother. I know how much I love my husband and my children and the idea of being yanked away from them in this manner is gut-wrenching. I feel so sad for Anissa, her husband, and her babies.

Then, this morning, I heard from another friend about one of her neighbors whose daughter was stillborn at 39 weeks just a few days ago. The baby's umbilical cord became knotted and she died.

It breaks my heart. All this loss and suffering and sorrow. I don't understand it. And I hate it. And to be honest, it all just shakes my faith a little too much.

I won't stop praying, though. I can't. Because it feels like the only thing any of us can do. I know that's not entirely true.

In fact, there is something we can do to help Anissa's family. If you are in the Atlanta area, or if you want to send a gift card to a restaurant, Blockbuster, or something that can help keep her kids occupied and entertained, you can go here for information on how to help.

Major Network Making Documentary about Learning Disabilities

I thought I'd share this news I just got from Warren Fried at Dyspraxia USA:

DOCUMENTARY ON LDS seeking people in US interested in participating

WHAT MAKES YOUR CHILD EXCEPTIONAL?

Major cable television documentary on learning differences seeks CHILDREN 7-14 YEARS OLD who have found a talent, strength or interest that is a source of self-esteem and pride. We are looking for EXPRESSIVE young people who are interested in helping others by sharing their experiences living and learning with dyslexia, dyscalculia, an auditory/visual processing disorder or any non-verbal ld. MINORS MUST HAVE PERMISSION OF A PARENT OR GUARDIAN TO BE CONSIDERED.

Please contact us about your child in complete confidence at LDFILM@AOL.COM < LDFILM@AOL.COM> with his or her age, first name, type of school currently attending, location, and a brief synopsis of your child’s schooling and social life. We will contact you shortly.

What do you think? Would you let your LD child participate in something like this or do you think it would be too hard on them? Brendan's too young, but if he were old enough, I'm not sure if I would do it or not. I mean, by allowing your child to be filmed you might potentially help someone else and break down the stigmas associated with Learning Disabilities and hopefully teach a few educators that there are many and varied ways to learn and that just because someone does have an LD does not mean that he or she is stupid and cannot learn. Just that they may need to learn in a non-traditional manner.

I don't know, though....

I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. And if you're going to submit your child's name, especially if he or she has Dyspraxia, I'd love to hear from you, too!

Oh! By the way, I hear the network that is filming this is –cough, cough – HBO. In case that makes a difference to you. They generally do a very good job with their docs as far as I have seen.

Anyway, let me hear from y'all on this. I am curious....

Living La Vida Loca and Loving It

What a long month it's been and we're only 10 days or so into it.

Last week was spent with two boys and a husband all with the stomach flu. It started on Halloween night and didn't end until sometime early this past Sunday morning. So far I haven't gotten it, but did have alternating chills and hot spells with nausea on Saturday night while caring for a still vomiting six-year old.

Earlier that day, though, everyone was fine – well, the kids and I were fine, Scott was still sick. We spent the day in Cumming with my in-laws taking in my niece's play in the a.m. and then going to my nephew's football playoff game that afternoon. Maybe it was the hot dog and Icee at the football game that did Brendan's tummy in.

Thrown into that mix were Brendan's first basketball practice, which he loved; starting his big first-grade Language Arts project on blends; and learning that we are doing Thanksgiving at our house because both my sisters-in-law have other plans with their families this Thanksgiving.

When I wasn't taking care of sick people last week, I spent much of my time updating my resume and sending it to friends in the hope of networking. I really need to create some more freelance work for myself and/or find a regular gig. There's something about working that makes me feel happy. I feel like a real human again, with my own thoughts and ideas that involve something other than what's for dinner. I enjoy talking about words and the functionality of web sites and how to translate one person's idea into words another person can understand and that drive people to action.

I also had an article published in Special Needs Parenting magazine. It's been really nice to get so much positive feedback on it. Mothering is an often thankless job. It has been nice to do something and have others tell me they appreciate what I did or that I did a good job on it.

I am working on another seralized article for a different parenting magazine.

With all of that going on, finding time to blog has been hard. I was awarded the "One Lovely Blog" by Sarah at The Stroller Ballet, but haven't even had time to write about it or share the bloggy love with some of my other favorite bloggers. Oh well. Maybe tomorrow.

For now, it's time to revel in the still warm and loved feeling I have after spending the morning with my Familia group from my church and get to cleaning the kitchen and starting supper before we head to speech therapy after school.

Have a lovely day, my friends. And thanks for stopping by. In case I haven't told you lately I really appreciate you all. Smooch!

Maclaren Recalls 1 Million Strollers

We're mostly out of the stroller phase, except on long walks where the jogging stroller still has a role to play, but a friend sent me this and I figure I can help spread the word because I know some of my readers still use strollers.

NEWS from CPSC
U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission
Office of Information and Public Affairs
Washington, DC 20207

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
November 9, 2009
Release # 10-033

Firm's Recall Hotline: (877) 688-2326
CPSC Recall Hotline: (800) 638-2772
CPSC Media Contact: (301) 504-7908

Maclaren USA Recalls to Repair Strollers Following Fingertip Amputations

WASHINGTON, D.C. - The U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission, in cooperation with the firm named below, today announced a voluntary recall of the following consumer product. Consumers should stop using recalled products immediately unless otherwise instructed.

Name of Product: Maclaren Strollers

Units: About one million

Distributor: Maclaren USA, Inc., of South Norwalk, Conn.

Hazard: The stroller's hinge mechanism poses a fingertip amputation and laceration hazard to the child when the consumer is unfolding/opening the stroller.

Incidents/Injuries: The firm has received 15 reports of children placing their finger in the stroller's hinge mechanism, resulting in 12 reports of fingertip amputations in the United States.

Description: This recall involves all Maclaren single and double umbrella strollers. The word "Maclaren" is printed on the stroller. The affected models included Volo, Triumph, Quest Sport, Quest Mod, Techno XT, TechnoXLR, Twin Triumph, Twin Techno and Easy Traveller.

Sold at: Babies"R"Us, Target and other juvenile product and mass merchandise retailers nationwide from 1999 through November 2009 for between $100 and $360.

Manufactured in: China

Remedy: Consumers should immediately stop using these recalled strollers and contact Maclaren USA to receive a free repair kit.

Consumer Contact: For additional information, contact Maclaren USA toll-free at (877) 688-2326 between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. ET Monday through Friday or visit the firm's Web site at www.maclaren.us/recall

To see this recall on CPSC's web site, including pictures of the recalled product, please go to: http://www.cpsc.gov/cpscpub/prerel/prhtml10/10033.html

Tyger, Tyger Burning Bright: Wash Post Advice on Parenting, Dyspraxia, and Anger

Warren Fried, founder of Dyspraxia USA, sent me this advice column from the Washington Post's Parenting Advice columnist, Marguerite Kelly.

As the mother of a Dyspraxic child, I know all about the frustration and anger these children feel. I am also well familiar with the mirroring instinct in kids. That's a phenomenon common to all kids, though, not just Dyspraxics. The mother who asked for advice talks about how her son mirrors her calm anger and stages sit-ins to express his displeasure. I am a yeller and a crier when I am angry. So is Brendan, much to my dismay. I want to be the calm authoritarian, but that's not what I learned growing up because... Guess what? My mom yelled. And spanked. And on at least one occasion smacked me across the face. I am thankful I don't do those things. And I am learning to show my displeasure calmly.

But, that's neither here nor there.

What struck me about Kelly's advice was how off the mark it is. The woman clearly has no idea what Dyspraxia is or how Dyspraxic kids think.

There are as many ways to expess anger as there are people and I don't think having a little boy who stages sit-ins or refuses to do something he doesn't want to do is an example of passive-aggressive behavior. Of course it can be, but defiance of authority is not always passive-aggressive. In this case, it appears to be quite a direct expression of anger and fear.

I did like her advice on how to deal with the specific issue of the child refusing to go to school. But, I think she fails to account for the fact that with Dyspraxic kids there is a lot of fear involved and they learn, very quickly, how to be stubborn and hold out for long periods of time to avoid doing things that are scary or hard for them. If nothing else, kids with Dyspraxia are persistent when it comes to getting their way. And it may be weeks before leaving him home with a sitter convinces him that going to school is a better option. It may never work because he doesn't care how much fun the kids at school are having when going to school only exacerbates or highlights the issues he has trouble with, like writing, learning, or fitting in with the other kids.

I think the first thing the mother should do is talk to her son's teacher to find out why he doesn't want to go to school. Is he struggling to do the things the kids in his class are doing? Is his speech affected by the Dyspraxia? If so, are the other kids teasing him? There are so many things that might be causing this little boy to be unhappy at school that need to be addressed before throwing down the gauntlet with him. I guarantee you, that if this child is afraid of school and having difficulty fitting in, he is the tiger in the analogy offered by Kelly. A Dyspraxic child who is resisting doing something that is frustrating to them will outlast his or her parent almost any day.

I speak from experience. Brendan hated school until he was diagnosed with Dyspraxia and we began therapy. We fought about his going to school every single day because he was miserable. Even in Kindergarten he compared himself to the other children and knew he was different because he could not do many of the things they did with ease. After eight months of occupational therapy and a year of speech therapy, things are easier for him he enjoys school much more.

Again, this article or advice column highlights one of the many reasons there needs to be more awareness of Dyspraxia.

Only through early diagnosis and treatment can a child with Dyspraxia have the hope of fitting in and adapting to the everyday challenges school offers. Merely forcing a child into the situation without offering him or her the therapies and adaptive skills necessary to do the work and fit in, is only going to increase any anger or frustration the child is already experiencing.

Then, you'll really have a tiger on your hands.

Autumn Party Recipes

Yesterday, I promised via Twitter that I'd post the recipe for the Apple Upside Down Cake I took to a party for Beckett's playgroup. I also took a very simple appetizer that will amaze you with it's ease and deliciousness.

So, without further ado, here's the recipe...Oh! Wait! There actually is further ado. I should note, that the recipe does not call for pecans. At all. But, I decided to add pecans into the butter/brown sugar layer that goes into the bottom of the pan. I also sprinkled the apple slices that go on top of that bottom layer with cinnamon and it all tasted fantastic. If you don't like nuts, don't do it, but come on! Pecans. Brown Sugar. Butter. Together! I'm just sayin'.....

Oh! And, if you want, you can just substitute a yellow butter cake mix and add the apples and spices into that if you don't want to fool with mixing a cake from scratch. Which, by the way, y'all, is what I did!

Okay, so now, without any further ado,
Apple Upside Down Cake:

Ingredients
1/3 cup butter, cut up
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
6 very small red cooking apples (1-1/4 to 1-1/2 lb.), halved, stems removed, cored
1-1/3 cups all-purpose flour
2/3 cup granulated sugar
2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. ground ginger
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
2/3 cup milk
1/4 cup butter, softened
1 egg
1 tsp. vanilla
Vanilla ice cream (optional)
directions
1. Preheat oven to 350F. Place 1/3 cup butter in a 9x9x2-inch baking pan. Place in oven 5 minutes or until butter melts. Sprinkle brown sugar over butter; stir. Arrange 9 apple halves in mixture, cut sides down. Bake in oven 10 to 15 minutes or until bubbly.

2. Meanwhile, peel remaining apples. Coarsely shred; set aside. In bowl combine flour, granulated sugar, baking powder, ginger, and cinnamon. Add shredded apple, milk, 1/4 cup butter, egg, and vanilla. Beat with electric mixer on low until combined; beat on medium 1 minute. Spoon over apples, spread evenly (apple may be exposed; some butter may come to surface).

3. Bake 35 minutes or until wooden toothpick inserted near center comes out clean. Cool in pan on wire rack for 5 minutes. Loosen edges; invert onto platter. Spoon any topping in pan over top. Cool 20 minutes; serve with ice cream. Makes 9 servings.

And for the appetizer. You won't believe how easy this is. But it's so yummy....

Jalapeno Jelly Cheese Spread:

1 block Cream Cheese
1 cup Cheddar Cheese, shredded
Jalapeno or other pepper Jelly (You can also use a sweet-hot Chow-Chow or Pickaninny sauce for this if you prefer)

Mix softened cream cheese and cheddar until smooth. Shape into a ball or use a mold to shape.
Remove cheese from mold and put on serving tray.
Spoon jalapeño jelly over cheese and serve with Wheat Thins or other crackers.

Beans and Cornbread: Two Great New Recipes for Fall

Was reminded this week of a great fall recipe I haven't made in a while. It's also a favorite of mine to make for friends who've just had a baby or have a sickness in the family and need a hand. You can also make ahead and freeze to pull out in a pinch. And I've included a new favorite side dish that goes great with it: Grape tomato and Avocado Salad.

Chili Casserole with Cornbread Topping:

1 lb. Lean Ground Beef or Turkey
1 small onion, peeled and chopped
1 green bell pepper, chopped
1 15-oz. can of beans (pinto, black, red kidney, or chili beans)
1 15-oz. can of diced tomatoes (can use diced tomatoes with chili peppers for a spicier version)
1 tsp. chili powder
1 tsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. salt
red pepper flakes to taste

1 cup shredded cheese (cheddar, Mexican blend, or Monterey Jack)
1 15 oz. can creamed corn
1 tsp. sugar
1 packet Martha White Cornbread Mix (Can use jalepeno cornbread mix if you like)
buttermilk as needed*

Saute onions and peppers until tender, add ground meat and brown. I add the salt to the meat while it is browning. Next, add beans, tomatoes, and spices. Simmer until well blended and aromatic.

While chili is simmering, prepare Cornbread mixture. Add creamed corn to cornbread mixture with tsp. of sugar. Add buttermilk slowly as needed to help cornbread mixture reach smooth and spreadable consistency.

Pour chili mixture into a casserole dish and add layer of cheese over chili. Then pour/spread cornbread mixture over chili and cheese. Bake in preheated 350º oven for 45 min. or until cornbread is golden brown on top.

Serve with dollop of sour cream and grape tomato and avocado salad.

Grape Tomato and Avocado Salad:


1 pint grape tomatoes, halved
3 ripe, but firm, avocados, chopped
1/2 cup Italian parsley or cilantro (or both), chopped
1 tsp. minced garlic
1 T lemon juice
1 T Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Sea Salt to Taste

Toss all ingredients together in a non-reactive (glass) bowl. Serve immediately or chill for up to 3 hours before serving.

If you try these out, let me know what you like and what you don't. I made this salad for friends who just had a baby last night and wish I had photographed it. It was really beautiful. I may make it again this weekend for us and if I do, I will take a picture and add it.

If you have any great fall recipes you'd like to share, please leave them in the comments section and I will post them with a link to your site.

Cheers!

Great Moments in Parenting

Generally speaking, I think Scott and I do a pretty great job parenting our two sons. We are loving, supportive, encouraging, provide structure and discipline to their lives. Every now and then, however, we have our moments when we go slightly off the range and our words or actions in relation to the boys might be called into question.

Sometimes, thanks to my short fuse, I think I'm just one perfect mom who never makes mistakes away from a call to DCS. Like the witch lady in the waiting room at Scottish Rite's Therapy Center who looked at me in horror and disbelief when I groaned loudly and exclaimed, "Beckett, I am so mad at you right now!" after Beckett stood in the middle of the waiting room and peed all over himself and the floor and then says to me, with a smile on his face, "Mommy! Pee!" In my defense, he had been potty-trained for over a month and it was the first day of his now-week-long potty strike and the fifth time that day he had wet his pants and found it amusing. So, while it should not have been put on public display probably, I do feel my frustration was warranted.

That negative moment aside, the questionable things we say and do are, as often as not, just plain silly. Like the time I told Brendan that he had to brush his teeth because the tooth fairy would not want his teeth if they were yucky and had cavities. When he pressed me on what she did with the teeth, I told him she makes necklaces with them and only wants pretty teeth. Whether he has nightmares about a Tinkerbellish lass with a ropeful of children's teeth dangling about her neck or not, I couldn't tell you, but it did – at least for a while – make him an avid proponent of dental hygiene.

Then there's the story Scott told Beckett last week when the wee one was on the verge of a meltdown because he didn't want to go to preschool. Seeing Beckett's bottom lip start to quiver when I said, "It's time to go to school," Scott took quick, evasive action before the four winds of the toddler apocalypse started to blow in full force. He said, "Beckett, you have to go to school today. This is the day the monsters come to help Mommy clean house."

Monsters? Instantly, he had Beckett's attention and mine. "Yeah. While you're at school the monsters come and they wash the walls for us. But they're kind of scary and you wouldn't want to be here while they're here."

"Oh. Otay," Beckett replied and that was that. He looked a little befuddled, but he acquiesced and came downstairs calmly and was ready to go to school. And it hasn't come up since.

I was duly impressed with Scott's quick work in diffusing the situation and even more impressed with his creativity. Which really should be no surprise considering the fact that he's a musician. But then again, I am a writer, but not nearly so quick off the cuff.

Now, however, I am dying to know about your parenting highlights? What are the funniest, weirdest, silliest, dumbest things you've said or done with your kids and how did they work out? Please share....

Neighborhood Bully: TSA Takes Woman's Son!

I am shocked and appalled by this story. I have personally experienced the ineptitudes of the TSA at Atlanta's Hartsfield Airport, but this woman's experience goes beyond ineptitude into sheer stupidity and exposes the TSA as the actual terrorists. I cannot imagine what she went through. I got shaky and cried just reading about it.

I truly hope the national media picks this up and something changes. These TSA employees clearly bullied this woman and they need to be fired.

Thankful Thursday: Friends in Low Places

The last few weeks have been very challenging, filled with ups and downs and all-arounds. The one thing that I can say has consistently kept me thankful and sane and happy much of the time is knowing that I have girlfriends (and a guy friend here and there) that I can count on. The guys I don't really count on and they're not the same kind of friends as my girls. They're mostly just high school friends who pop up on Facebook with the occasional wiseacre comment here and there, but they're good for a laugh.

My girls, though... I could not live without them. From my best friend Courtney who lives in Texas and has been through...well, roughly the last 20 years or so of my life to the amazing women who live in my neighborhood and go to my church and participate in my playgroup and play Bunco together and share the same routines and rituals of my everyday life, I am blessed to know some kick-ass, hotter than Hell, sage, loving, supportive, funny, talented, crazy, amazing women.

There have been times when I feel like I don't fit in, but I think that's mostly been me, holding back. Fearing that I don't fit in and making it so. When I let go and trust that people will accept me just as I am...potty-mouth, messy house, crazy life, ambitious, slack, flaky, I am often surprised that they do. And that's when they let me see all the messy aspects of their own lives. And that's when things really get interesting.

So, all this then, is what I am thankful for on this rainy, rainy Thursday.

Mixed Bag O' Blessings

We just returned from Brendan's speech therapy at Scottish Rite. He's now getting help with speech at school and through our insurance and it seems like he's improving even more rapidly than I would have hoped.

Still, no one takes me seriously when I mention that he stammers. It might be that he only does it with me. But if so, why? He should be the most comfortable talking to his mom.

I don't know. Today has been a really bad day for all sorts of reasons and if I think too hard about that one I may just burst into tears.

I am proud of Brendan for how hard he works and how far he has come since he was diagnosed with Dyspraxia last autumn. He is worlds from where he was then, yet I hate it that he does have to work so hard for what comes naturally to everyone else in the world.

He's starting to say he hates school again but won't tell me why. I fear it's getting difficult again. I just want something in life to come as a gift to my beautiful boy. Something that he is great at without trying too hard that he loves doing.

He told me today he wants to play basketball this winter. He brought home a flyer about a church league. I don't know what to do. I am so afraid he'll try it and struggle and be the worst kid out there and take another blow to his self-esteem. Yet, I don't want to deny him the opportunity. I guess I need to put my fears aside and let him struggle and see what he is capable of. He may surprise me.

And the league for five and six year olds is a "learning" league, so no real games. Just learning opportunities. Maybe it will good for him and me.

Don't get me wrong. I absolutely believe kids should be allowed to fail every now and again so that they learn from their mistakes and don't get any ideas about life being easy. That said, Brendan has already had plenty of challenges and failures as a child and it's time for him to find something he's exceptional at. I'm just not sure basketball is the ideal sport for the kid who suffers from something that was once known as clumsy child syndrome.

The Blog She is A-Changing

I'd love to have your feedback on the new look of the blog. What do y'all think?

I've putzed around way too long on this to want to undo it, but I would like to hear your thoughts. It just felt like it was time for a change.

So, let's hear it....

Qu'est-ce que c'est gateaux?: Hummingbird Cake Recipe

Wednesday was my honey's birthday so I made his favorite cake. This recipe is the same one Scott's grandfather used to make when Scott was a boy. His mother gave it to me and I'm going to share it with y'all because this is the most amazing cake in the world and it deserves to be eaten and celebrated:

Hummingbird Cake

Ingredients:

3 cups all-purpose flour
2 cups granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
3 eggs, beaten
1 1/4 cups vegetable oil
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 can (8oz) crushed pineapple, well drained
1 cup chopped pecans
2 cups chopped firm ripe banana

Preheat oven to 350°. Sift flour, sugar, salt, baking soda and cinnamon together into mixing bowl several times. Add eggs and salad oil to the dry ingredients. Stir with a wooden spoon until ingredients are moistened. Stir in vanilla, pineapple and 1 cup pecans. Stir in the bananas. Spoon the batter into 3 well-greased and floured 9-inch round cake pans. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes,or until a wooden pick or cake tester inserted in center comes out clean. Cool in pan for 10 minutes, then turn onto cooling rack. Cool completely before frosting.

Cream Cheese Frosting:
16 ounces cream cheese, softened
1 cup butter, room temperature
2 pounds confectioners' sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Combine cream cheese and butter; cream until smooth. Add powdered sugar, beating with an electric mixer until light and fluffy. Stir in vanilla.

This cake is so rich and delicious. I love it, but I usually only make it on Scott's birthday because it is so special.

Some folks like to put chopped pecans on top of the icing, but I hate the way that interferes with the creaminess of the frosting.

Also, Paula Deen has a version of this cake that is slightly different. My recipe makes a really dense cake. Paula uses Self-Rising flour and omits the baking soda. Everything else is exactly the same, though, including the quantity of the flour.
Her version makes a slightly lighter and fluffier cake that still tastes fantastic!

A Kind of Magic: I Love My Son's Sense of Humor

You're getting a doubleheader today, folks. Two blog posts! Woot!

You'd think I'd save them up and spread them out, but why would I want to be so organized when I can write and deliver in such a willy-nilly fashion as I do?

So, as I type, Scott is on the phone right now with his mom. Both boys are at his mom's this weekend and he called to check on them. Apparently, they're having fun. Brendan got on the phone and pretended to be his little brother and totally tricked Scott. He's hilarious that way. His sense of humor is very much his Dad's.

He loves to do funny voices and imitate his favorite characters in movies. He does a brilliant Yoda. And yes, he can sound exactly like Beckett. He gets me in the same way all the time, calling out from the living room while I'm in the kitchen, saying, "Mama, need you. Need you!" which is often how Beckett summons me. I go running in to see what's wrong and there's Brendan, lying on the floor holding his stomach because he's laughing so hard. He knows he can do the voice. And, sadly for me, has gotten me the same way more than once.

I just think it's funny and interesting. I have to admit, I've wondered if he's going to end up on Space SNL. We have a niece who has blossomed into a very funny and talented young actress doing community theatre and I wonder if this might be where Brendan's gifts lie as well.

I just love watching this side of his personality emerge. He is a joker. He loves to laugh and make people laugh, yet so far, he's not the class clown at school. No, he saves it all for us.

I know time will tell and reveal to us and to him what his gifts are and what he wants to do with them. For now, I am content just to hear my clever boy's delightful peals of laughter and know he's flexing those creative muscles.

Dyspraxia Awareness Week

Over the Rainbow: Thankful Thursday

It's a sunny day in the ATL and there is hope in my heart.

My cuddly two-year old Beckett is sitting in my lap while I type telling me all the colors on the birthday candle that came off his daddy's birthday cake. We're about to go to our playdate with his best friend, Cooke and one of my best friends, Lucy. I have a press release to get out today, and phone calls to make. I am looking forward to joining other friends in a woman's group at church in the next few weeks. The air is crisp and soon will be the time for family gatherings. And I hold in my heart a sense that good things are on the horizon.

I am grateful.

Sorry for 2009: The Things I Never Knew About Parenting

Dear Mom,

Wherever you are out there in the Cosmos, I want you to know something.

I'm sorry.

For twenty odd years or maybe longer, I've been carrying around what amounts to a whole set of deluxe Samsonite, packed tight with my anger and hurt toward you over all the ways I felt that you let me down. I'll spare you the whole inventory, though I suspect in the spirit world, assuming there is one and you are there, that you know all this anyway. And you're probably laughing your ass off.

One of the items that topped my list was the fact that you never let me do anything as a kid. No sports. No dance lessons. No music lessons other than church choir. Not even Girl Scouts. I have been so pissed off at you for years because I felt like you didn't give me a chance to discover any of my gifts or talents. I had always assumed you didn't do these things with me because we were poor and you couldn't afford it. I realize now how expensive these things are.

But now, I also see that the expense lies not just in the actual cost of the activity, but also in the time it takes to do these things. The hours spent sitting at practices waiting for your child, time at games. Time to go buy uniforms. And on top of all that, there is a limit to how much control you have over any of it.

Unless you have volunteered to coach the team, be the den mother, or organize the event in some way – which admittedly, is even more of a time suck – you have zero control over when you'll be there or for how long.

I see now, that working two jobs and making less than $30,000 a year for most of my life, you had little opportunity to give me the kind of childhood I wanted...the one I am now trying to give my boys.

I know now how much it sucks. God. It sucks.

I have been livid for a month now that our stupid Cub Scout meetings are at 6:30 p.m. on Monday nights. Pick the worst day of the week and then plan a meeting for supper time. An hour long meeting that not only interrupts our dinner hour, but runs into our bath and bedtime routine. Thanks, Boy Scouts of America.

The thing is, I remember you serving as den mother for my cousins Troy and Trevor when they lived with us when I was little. It seemed like those meeting were later in the night, but that might be a four-year-old's memory of such things. Who knows? I just remember you did it for them, but not me. And I never understood that.

I think I do now. You were obligated to care for your brother's kids and he wanted them in Scouts. By the time I was old enough to do anything, you were working two jobs to make ends meet. And by the time I was in high school and old enough to get myself around, I was working after school and on weekends. It was too late.

I wonder, I still wonder even today sitting here writing this, how my life would be different if I had taken dance or been in Girl Scouts or played a sport. Would I be more confident? Would I believe in myself more? Would I be athletic and not have to worry about my figure? Would I be a master at sales making six-figures a year because I had learned to sell Girl Scout cookies so well? Who knows?

But I have to stop being angry at you over failing to give me those opportunities. I know now what a sacrifice it is to give your kids those things and I know you had very little to sacrifice, either in time or money or self. I still think you were self-absorbed and selfish and that played a big part in your unwillingness to give me more. But, I also know that to some extent you were just doing the best you could.

And I'm sorry that I've carried this anger – and at times a very strong hatred for you – around this long.

Now I know how hard it is to be a parent and to give of yourself. I know how very little there can be to go around sometimes. I hope I am making better choices than you. I hope my sons never have to even contemplate whether or not I loved them or wanted the best for them. I hope they never look back and think "my mom was so selfish." As much as I hate some of the things I have to do or choose to do for my kids – like dealing with a screaming toddler while his brother is in a Scout meeting – I do them because I hope and pray I am helping my sons become smarter, more confident, happier, and more well-rounded young men who can look back some day and think "Wow! I had a great childhood. My parents really loved us and went out of their way to give us the things we needed to succeed in our lives."

You weren't able to do that in the ways I might have liked. But, I hope and choose now to believe, that you really did do your best and give me all you could in your way.

So, Mom, once again, I'm sorry for being pissed off at you all those years. I love you. And I forgive you.

Dawn

Ask Not What Your Country Can Do For You....

I'm just so discouraged by the political dialogue in this country.

How sad is it that the President of the United States can't give a simple speech to our kids encouraging them to stay in school, do their best, and act obediently toward their parents and teachers without members of the opposing party going all apoplectic?

I just fail to see how this is cause for alarm. There's nothing remotely political about President Obama's speech, yet there are parents who are going to pull their children out of school on Tuesday so they won't have to hear the President's propaganda! Are you kidding me?

I heard one mother, from Colorado, I believe, who was quoted as saying that this government scares her. Really? Because I find watching young men and women die in a foreign country so that our (former) vice-president and his pals can get richer and our country can (in theory) have greater access to Middle Eastern oil, and having my civil rights trampled upon by the Patriot Act, and having my child's ability to gain access to the services he needs to get a good education stymied by the No Child Left Behind Act a hell of a lot scarier than our President telling kids to stay in school.

I really think our country is dying. And the reason is that too many people, some of them very smart people, have closed their minds. They've shut down their ability to reason and think for themselves and are unable to do anything other than espouse the party line. They are unwilling to even listen to any thoughts, beliefs, or arguments other than those they already believe in. Until we return to a place where both sides are willing to engage in constructive dialogue with one another and not just shout ugly words like Communist! or Fascist! at the other side, our country will cease to grow and thrive.

This commentator has it right. I couldn't agree more with what he has to say.

Adventures in Potty Training: Dyspraxic Child v. Typical Child

When I began the potty-training process with Brendan, when he was two-and-a-half, (the age, mind you, that had been recommended by all the books I'd read, our pediatrician, and my mother-in-law), I was confident that my smart little boy would be potty-trained in no time flat.

I believed that I could and would be consistent in our efforts. I had read a variety of methods and decided on the one I thought best for our lifestyle and his temperament. I was optimistic, to say the least.

For weeks, we struggled. I changed my methods. I tried everything my friends and family suggested. I gave up. I waited until he was three and tried again. This time, we had a bit more success, but still battled daily urinary accidents. And going poopy on the potty? Forget it!

When he was four and a looming August 10 start date for pre-K lay ahead in my future, I was panicking. Freaking out. Finally, after having tried everything to motivate him, educate him, help my son, I called our pediatrician. Her advice? Give up. Literally.

She said to give up trying to train him for one month. She said to put him in pull ups and just leave him alone for one month. To not even mention it. Against every thing that I believed to be true and sacred about parenting, I did exactly what she told me.

And...it worked.

About one month before school began, we put Big B back into regular underwear, told him he was to use the toilet for everything, and he did. He was able to start school with no accidents and he did great.

If only I had known then that he had dyspraxia, I could have saved both him and me many, many tears and hours of pain and anxiety over all of it. I could have saved his self-esteem and my own.

Now that he's been diagnosed, I know that late toilet training is a symptom or sign of dyspraxia. Back then? I just thought he was too stubborn or too easily distracted to focus on what his body was doing. Now, of course, I realize that the process of nerve endings and signals back and forth between brain and bladder and the various other body parts involved is so complicated that the dyspraxic child isn't physically mature enough at two and some not until they are much older, to get it right.

Now I know though. Still, when I began potty training Little B three weeks ago, I began cautiously and fearfully. I was fearful that I was entering another Showdown to the Death. That's what training Big B felt like to me. Between the potty training that was going wrong and the lack of sleep, I really thought one or both of us might die before we were done. And as I began training Little B, I really thought that it had the potential to be just as bad. To me, it felt like Potty Training PTSD. Just thinking of going through that again made me want to crawl inside myself.

I needn't have worried, though. By virtue of the fact that he doesn't have Developmental Dyspraxia, Little B has flourished in his efforts to be a Big Boy.

We spent a couple of days with him in pull-ups, being introduced to the toilet. I would give him juice and then every 10 min. thereafter put him on the toilet with the potty seat attached. After those first two days, he went into regular Thomas underwear, hand-me-downs from his big bro. After a couple of days that consisted of lots of him sitting on the toilet while I ran water and read books to him as we waited for him to pee only to have him have an accident as soon as we left the bathroom, we moved on to successful peeing in the potty with lots of M&Ms and stickers for rewards.

I took Little B to the store where I let him pick out his own underwear (he chose Sesame Street and Thomas) and the rest is history. We're three weeks in and he has only had two accidents the last week. He still hasn't pooped on the toilet, but I'm no longer worried.

I can't tell you what this kind of success has done to restore my confidence as a mom. I'm trying to focus on that and not beat myself up about not knowing Brendan was different. He was my first and I didn't know. And neither did our pediatrician. I talked to them a lot about it and they just kept telling me kids train when they want to. I can wish all day that we'd had an earlier diagnosis, but it doesn't change anything.

All I can say is that my heart is with every parent who is trying to potty train a dyspraxic child. And with that, I would say that if that describes you, be patient. It will come to them. Try, too, to remember that it is not a reflection on you or your parenting abilities if your dyspraxic child toilet trains late. Just keep your patience. I didn't have the luxury of knowing what our problem was and I wasted many tears fighting a battle I could have avoided.