I'm Not Sobbing. At Least Not Today.

I wasn't planning to post about this quite yet, but I'm so bothered by someone's insensitivity that I just have to share. I've been brainstorming for a while now for a way to raise money to make a more sizable donation for Autism research and awareness than I could do on my own. This year, I believe I've found it. Sure I stole the idea from here, but it's a good idea, so why be original? I have asked my friends and family for their old, used Christmas & Holiday cards to repurpose into New cards that I will be selling this coming Fall for the 2010 Holiday Season. All profits will be donated to further Autism research and awareness.

Key word of the day... AWARENESS.

I subscribe to our local Freecycle.org group. If you don't belong or are unaware of what FreeCycle is, please check it out and consider adding it to your routine. It's really a great service. With that said, our local group has a moderator that could use a lesson in tact.

Tact

Pronunciation: \ˈtakt\

Function: noun

Etymology: French, sense of touch, from Latin tactus, from tangere to touch

Date: 1797

1 : sensitive mental or aesthetic perception <converted the novel into a play with remarkable skill and tact> 2 : a keen sense of what to do or say in order to maintain good relations with others or avoid offense

While I utilized FreeCycle quite a few times in Vermont, I had yet to give or receive anything from the group here in Michigan. So this was my first time posting since signing up a couple of months ago. They have some rules and regulations, just to keep things simple and organized. After all, their main goal is keeping things out of the landfills, which I appreciate. I forgot a few of the formatting rules, so my post was denied. Here's an idea of what I typed in my request...

"I might be late getting out this request, but I am wanting used Christmas cards to repurpose into New Christmas cards to sell next Fall to raise money for Autism Awareness. Blah, blah, blah... (some more info about making the cards, nothing about me or Abby or Autism)... blah, blah, blah. I have a daughter with Autism and have been looking for a way to raise money. This is it!"

This is the email I got from the moderator denying my request.

"Per posting format, you need to indicate area where YOU live, in subject line; resubmit....and when you do, only the first sentence of your text body is sufficient. One does not need to detail their "reason" for asking, to keep something out of the landfills..and sob storys aren't allowed. T/y."

And "sob stories" aren't allowed!?!!! OMG!

Where did I sob in that request?! As a matter of fact, I think I might have been smiling and typing with a bounce in my fingers as I typed up my request. Sure there have been days when I've asked "Why Me?!" in my adventure parenting a kid with Autism, but I wouldn't trade her for the world. If my option was to have no Abby or Abby just as she is, you better believe I'd choose her just as she is a thousand times over!

This was my response to the moderator... my fingers were shaking with anger as I typed this up. I could see the point the moderator was trying to make and yet I was feeling like I had to say something to point out their lack of tact.

"Sorry. This is my first posting and it's been a while since I reviewed the format specifications. Have to admit I'm a little offended by the reference to "sob story". I don't feel I have a "sob story". Just a kid with Autism who I think is pretty close to perfect just as she is. No need to sob. With that said, I understand the point you so "eloquently" make and will keep my resubmission short and sweet. Thanks."

I thought about telling them off and unsubscribing, but that would just hurt me, other users of the site and landfills. So I just kept it brief and calm, considering I was so pissed! OH! And by the way, I've read other requests for items that detailed a families dire economic situation, so I hardly see why sharing the reason I'm asking for used Christmas cards as being a sob story.

Abby's Autism is mild. I could pretend it wasn't there and people might just think she's a bit weird, if they even noticed anything at all. The reason I don't do that is because I think we need to "Think differently about Autism." With so many kids diagnosed, people are going to find themselves in contact with someone who has it at some time or another. I LOVE when people ask me about it. I LOVE to educate them with the little bit I know about Autism and give suggestions for how to interact with people who have it. Our story is not a Sob Story. It's simply our story. Some days the stories are light and funny, sweet and touching, sad and frustrated. Just like anyone else's. We have good days and we have bad days. We have days that are full of original thought and conversation and then days that are filled with frustrated, non-communicative screams and days that it seems Abby is stuck reading the same script over and over again.

Sure I've sobbed at times.

Who hasn't?!

But our story is NOT a sob story!

It's a story of love, acceptance, perseverance and victory!

Being Abby's mom is a joy that I thank God for daily.

If any of you would like to donate your Holiday cards, please contact me at erinkj05@gmail.com. Thanks.

(All images are holiday cards that I've made out of repurposed cards, paint sample cards, old brochures from spas and apartment buildings, print shop clippings, etc.)

I've made 41 cards so far and I've only just begun!

UPDATE: I received a kind and TACTFUL reply from the moderator and I'm much less pissed now : )

It was the way it should have been worded initially. She basically reiterated her initial point and pointed out that "sob story" is the term they use in the rules laid out for the postings and she meant no disrespect in quoting it to me. It was all said in a manner that was not at all rude and finished it all up with "Good luck with your request! It certainly merits a good cause. ;o) " I stand by my original annoyance, but I'm less pissed and I'm glad she took the time to respond in a professional manner.

My Last Belated Christmas Idea... I promise.

Ok. I know, I know. It's mid-January. Enough with the Santa Clause stuff already. But this is too good not to share. I'm mostly posting it so that I remember to do it next year. Since I'm new to this Santa Clause stuff, I need all the help I can get.

You can go to this site, Portable North Pole, fill out a few details about your kid and then *poof* you have a personalized Santa video for your child. So cool!

Here's a little mock-up I did for Bean using info that fits him this past Christmas. I'll make new ones next year, but this is really so cool! I just had to share it! Check it out here.

Ok. This will be my last Santa posting until next Christmas. I promise. Maybe.

I found the link to this site on a new-to-me blog, Design Dazzle. (Thanks, Jen!) You should check it out by either clicking their name here or going to the link in my sidebar. Hope you're enjoying a relaxing Sunday and have a good week!

Abby Met Santa This Christmas

I really meant to write this like the day after my last Santa inspired post, but life has been oddly busy. I say odd, because I actually have barely left the house. We've all been sick. This weird cold that seems to get better one day only to feel worse than before the next. Abby has surprisingly been surrounded by sick people, but has only sniffled twice. I'm very thankful. Apparently those gummy vitamins really work.

This Christmas was a lot fun. This year, Abby REALLY got it. She has been in love with the movie The Polar Express since last year. I can't even begin to tell you how many times we've seen it over the past year. Since I never believed in Santa as a kid, it's been a challenge for me to play the Santa game, but as soon as I caught on to the "Naughty vs. Nice" brilliance, it's all starting to come together for me. In the days leading up to Christmas, I was able to bring to mind for Abby the scene in The Polar Express where the alarm goes off signaling to the elves that a boy in New Jersey was in danger of getting on the naughty list at the last minute for putting gum in his sister's hair and then... lying about it! *gasp* It's a very serious matter.

(Abby & Bean listening to their Dad read Olivia Helps with Christmas... they make him read this book over and over all year long)

And apparently Abby does not take "Naughty vs. Nice" lightly when it comes to Santa Clause. She was being particularly whiney just before the holiday. I'm guessing it was partially missing school, partially that she is four years old and partially because there were new family members around who weren't privy to her game.

(Abby's Uncle)

So I said to her,

"Do you know what is happening in the North Pole right NOW?!"

She shook her head, "No."

"An alarm is going off and the elves are saying, "Abby in Michigan is not speaking very nicely to her family. Should we put her on the naughty list?"

Her eyes got big and I asked her, "Do you want to be on the Naughty List or the Nice List?"

She answered, "I want to be a nice girl."

"Ok, then. Please stop whining and use your nice words."

And it worked. It's genius! (Mom, you really should have considered Santa if only for that reason. Though I do seem to have a faint memory of you trying to use it a couple of times. Nice try, Mom. Nice try.)

("Daddy! Do you want to cook Santa?!!!")

Abby attended a breakfast hosted at the Muskegon Art Museum the weekend after Thanksgiving where she got to meet Santa. She sat on his lap, which is a miracle. Up until this year she regarded Santa with the same affection as one would reserve for the clown from Stephen Kings 'It'. (He's just a clown, I shouldn't be afraid... but he's so terrifying.) She'd watch from a distance, but when asked if she wanted to sit on his lap, she'd scream with the same intensity that she used, well, for everything else really. But this year, at that breakfast, she sat on Santa's lap and when he asked what she wanted for Christmas, she whispered,

"Super Why!"

Of course, Santa didn't hear her, because not only did she whisper it in her patented barely audible whisper, but she also said it about 10 seconds after Santa asked the question. By then he'd moved on to saying something else. But Abby's Dad was there and he was paying attention. He saw her whisper "Super Why." I imagine she must have been discouraged that Santa didn't hear her.

That's the way it is with kids with Autism. For the ones who do talk, they need a bit more time. I usually tell people to wait longer than they think they need to and then wait a few more seconds. Abby usually answers all questions posed to her, she just needs more time to process the question. Sadly, many people miss her answers.

We waited to put any gifts under the tree until the kids were in bed, telling them that Santa doesn't come until they are asleep. Abby took this very seriously and was asleep within minutes of going to bed. She apparently wasn't taking any chances, what with how close she'd come to the naughty list and all. My brother joked that she'd probably lectured her little brother on not "screwing this up!"

(After Santa had visited)

They were thrilled when they woke up on Christmas morning to find the tree surrounded by gifts. And one in particular said on the tag, "I heard you tell me what you wanted. To: Abby J, From: Santa" She started to open the package with little regard for who it was from, but then when she saw the familiar eyes of Whyatt from Super Why, she stopped dead in her tracks. Her face went white. Her eyes were huge! She dropped the gift and ran out of the living room into the dining room and looked from afar. Trying to process what she'd just experienced.

Santa was real!

He had to be! I could see the wheels turning in her head.

There was Super Why.

From Santa.

He said he had heard her!

(Christmas Morning)

We finally coaxed her back in to finish opening the gift. She finished opening it only to drop it again. She was shocked!

It took her quite a while to wrap her mind around the fact that Santa had heard her request and brought her Super Why. She was so excited! For the first hour that Whyatt was out of his package, Abby had to cover his eyes. She needed more time to process the miracle of actually receiving what she'd asked for.

(holding her brother's Alpha Pig and her Super Why)

The note that Santa left for her and Bean said,

"Dear Abby & Bean,

Thank you for the milk & cookies.

I was so hungry after flying all around the world.

I saw the Great Wall of China and the pyramids in Egypt.

You have both been very good kids this year.

Abby, I enjoyed meeting you at the breakfast with your cousin, ______.

I hope you enjoy your gifts.

Be good listeners and try your best to be big helpers.

Love, Santa."

She was once again amazed and for me, it brought back all the magic of Christmas.

It was truly a morning to remember.

A belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and yours!!!

(Our first Christmas in our new home)

I Knew In a Moment It Must Be St. Nick! His Fingerprints Were Everywhere!

I never believed in Santa Clause.

Not ever.

There are a number of reasons why my mother didn't play the Santa Clause game. All were good reasons and I respect her decision to this day. Here are a couple of her reasons:

1. My mother used to wear a brooch during the holidays that said, "Jesus Is The Reason For The Season". She wanted us to celebrate Jesus' birth and the gifts we received were simply symbolic of the gifts brought that night to the manger by the three wise men. She taught us of the evils of rampant consumerism and to be genuinely thankful for each gift we were given.
2. My mom was a single mom and she worked hard for every single thing we had. Why should she be expected to write the name of some fictitious entity on the gift tag when she'd either worked extra hours, away from her kids, to buy it or stayed up late, sacrificing precious sleep, to make us the quilt we'd cherish for years to come. She wasn't about to let Santa steal her thunder.

How did this affect her children? I don't think it had any real ill effect on us, nor did it make us exceptionally well-balanced or anything. And though I respect her decision to not foster a childhood belief in Santa Clause, both my older brother and I have decided to lie to teach our children about Santa Clause. Here's the main reason I choose to lie to perpetuate the Santa Clause myth:

When I was in the first-grade, I felt superior to my classmates, because I knew there was no Santa. I had not been "lied to" my entire life and felt that my friends had been done an extreme injustice. I probably shouldn't have been able to watch so many episodes of Perry Mason as a kid.

On one specific playdate, I was bound and determined to prove once and for all that my classmate from school, Valerie, had been mislead into believing a horrible and malicious lie. It was a mass conspiracy involving her parents and that strange, creepy man in the red suit at the mall who's lap she'd sat on. *shudder* Clearly I was doing her a favor.

She asked me, "Then why are there presents under the tree from Santa?"

I answered, "Uh, because your parents put them there."

She simply couldn't believe this was possible.

"Doesn't Santa come on Christmas Eve?" I questioned her.

"Yeah..." she ventured.

"Then why are there already gifts from Santa under your tree when Christmas isn't for another week?!" I exclaimed. I knew I had her there! Who could question such a logical observation?

Apparently I had underestimated the hold that the Santa myth had on poor, mislead Valerie.

"Because Santa can't possibly visit ALL the houses all over the world in one night! He dropped them off here early." she answered confidently.

Obviously this had already been "explained" to her. I launched into an explanation of the "Magic of Santa" and how his ability to visit every single house in the world in one night was part of what made him supposedly "sooooo magical!"

I harnessed all of my six-year old detective skills and asked Valerie to fetch me a sample of her mother's handwriting. I was obviously going to have to bring out the big guns. We sat crouched in her living room, under her decorated Christmas tree. I held a piece of paper, maybe a grocery list, with her mom's handwriting on it next to a gift tag signed, "from: Santa".

Valerie couldn't deny the obvious similarities. She ran crying to her mother.

I was so satisfied with myself. I'd saved one child from a childhood of lies. What a saint I was! Sure I felt a little bad. I didn't want to make my friend cry, but as the saying goes, you have a break a few eggs to make an omelet. Right?

Soon I was face to face with Valerie's mom. She looked at me like I was a horrible child. I'd just undone all the magic she'd worked so hard to create in her daughter's mind. What kind of kid would do that?! "You might not believe in Santa in your house, but in this house, we like to pretend and have fun at Christmas! I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your beliefs to yourself." I shrugged it off and thought, "What a liar!"

But I did always feel a little bad. Poor Valerie. I'm sure the magic of Santa was gone for her, no matter what her parents did to repair the damage I'd done. It also damaged our friendship forever.

I went to a private school the following year and for the year after that. When I returned to the public school system, it was to a different elementary school. And when Valerie and finally met up again in the 7th grade, she was not as keen on rekindling our friendship as I was. I actually almost got into a fist fight with a close friend of hers our Senior year of high school, because I kissed a boy Valerie had a crush on. I didn't even know she liked him. I felt terrible about the whole thing, but it didn't matter. I was clearly a terrible person. Not only did I crush her childhood Christmas fantasies, but I also kissed the boy whom she had a crush on.

And so I'm doing my part to save my kids from being "horrible" like their mom.

I don't want my kids to be terrible crushers of children's dreams. My kids believe in Santa. I hope this atones for the damage I did to poor Valerie's psyche.

For what it's worth, I'm sorry, Valerie. Wherever you are.

(all photos found via Google images)