The Upside of Autism

I've had a lot to say about autism and how it affects my son and family over the past 5 years. I've even been heard saying I'm thankful for it. I'm sure any of you reading this that have a personal connection to this disorder can understand what I meant by that, but I want to retract and amend that statement. I'm not thankful for this disease. In actuality, I hate it, and that hatred grows every day.

I hate autism. I hate how it locks precious children inside themselves, how it hides so much of their spirit from a dark world that needs their light. I hate how it exhausts mothers, fathers and caretakers and leaves them struggling, frustrated and feeling so very alone. I hate how it drives families into isolation. I hate how it affects siblings, how they must learn in an almost backward way that love is selfless and sacrificial. I hate how it divides our families, our communities and our world. I hate how it changes and eludes our understanding. I hate its relentlessness and pervasiveness. I hate that it is so expensive and difficult to treat. I hate how it seems to bring out the ugliest of our ignorance. I hate how it awakens the worst in the least human of our society, those who prey on the week and helpless. I hate the day I first learned what it was and what it meant to my family, to my baby, and to my life. I hate autism, however….

I love my son. I love ALL his differences. I love how hard he's worked and how the struggle with autism has only made him stronger. I love how I have a special place in my heart for Thomas the Tank Engine, Lightening McQueen, Legos and all the other obsessions he's attached himself to over the course of his life. I love that he loves art and music. I love how wonderful it is that he and I can communicate without words when that language barrier proves too hard to break through. I love his laugh even when it's too loud. I love how he jumps and runs and all his other stims even when it causes people to stare. I love that he now 'over expresses' his feelings because he finally gets that I NEED to know and I can't see inside his head. I love the idea that he thinks in pictures, and I secretly wish I could understand what that's like. (I think I would like it.) I love all the wonderful teachers, doctors, psychologists, and therapists that have worked with him, every one selflessly obeying the calling in their life to make a tangible difference in the lives of children like Jackson and their families. I love what I've learned about myself, my husband, my children, and our family. I love how God has used my son's diagnosis to show me the ugliness of MY ignorance. I love how he opened my eyes to all the times I judged a mother struggling in public. I love how my initial response is now one of compassion not just for other mother's struggling, but for those judging them and me. I love how I've learned through this that each of us walk a different path filled with obstacles and difficulties impossible for others to see from the outside looking in. I love the conversations that I've been able to have with my children about how there are people in our world whose brains and bodies don't work like everyone else's, about how that does not make them less, and how they should never be treated as less. I love that each of my children better understand the concept of protecting the weak, and loving the different. I love that this struggle has ignited my fighter spirit, and seeing that same flame in Jackson, I know he'll be ok.

I hate autism, but I love the upside.

What is the upside to autism? That for all the evil it could throw at me, it has only made me a better mother, wife, friend and person, and for that I will be forever grateful.

Great Shoes! (Being able to walk is not a priority.)

[I typed this out around Mother's Day and never published it. I think because the pics didn't turn out so great. Oh, well, I'm pretty sure my days of snap shots turning into super hot photos accidentally are over. These days I need a whole day to get ready and a very patient photographer.]

Have you ever thrown yourself together for something special and received so many compliments you're embarrassed? And, do those complements ever make you wonder, "wow, what does this mean about how I look every other day?" Yeah, that was me during Mother's Day week this past year. My daughter had muffins with mom at her preschool, and I decided we would dress up for the occasion. She was adorable in her little striped dress and runny nose. I was rocking some super sexy heels and a clip in my hair. We were something else. My favorite complement from a super awesome lady working the front desk, "you're just all kinds of fine today." I'm gonna pretend she wasn't smiling and laughing while she said it. My thirty something, mother of three, married for more than a decade ego needed that. The best, though, was when my oldest asked me to wear my pretty dress to his mother's tea the next day. So, obviously I obliged, feeling confident it would all work out the same. Ha!

Day 1: "All kinds of fine"
[Yes, I do know there is snot coming out of her nose.
Yes, I do have photoshop. Yes, I do have the skills to 'fix' the photo.
No, I do not have the time. Plus, I'm on my mobile.]

Well, even though the outfit was already decided, and all I had to do was shower and fix my hair, you would think I would have been early or at least right on time. I was a little late, and subsequently rushing to get in the door. I had to cross gravel, grass and mud to enter the building the way the school prefers we enter for safety. I'm wearing the same sexy heels as the previous day, only today I wasn't rocking them so well. Gravel in my shoe, stumbling and fumbling, one of my shoes kept slipping off at the heel, and obviously, I couldn't be alone in my struggle. There were moms outside talking, some older children (his school is K-12), and a super nice teenage boy I know got a kick out of seeing me stumble in because, as he opened the door for me, I caught the smirk that indicated he was trying pretty hard not to laugh. I was clearly a sight to see. I swear I should have just gone in jeans and sneakers, but that sweet little boy wanted to show off his pretty mommy. And, I couldn't say no. I made it in, feeling as disheveled as if I had rolled out of bed and jumped in the car. The heels the dress, all of it made me feel so silly. Then I saw that smile. The boy who made me a mommy looked at me so proud and excited to see me that I nearly cried. He grabbed my arm to escort me in, and I forgot all about looking like I'd never worn a dress or a pair of heels before. Well, until now. It was a wonderful tea, and a nice reminder of how my life has changed.

Day 2: To me, frazzled and out of place. To him, "You look beautiful, Mommy."

THE SHOES: I know the pic is fuzzy, but they're still super cute!
I LOVE these heels. I do not love wearing them as I try to walk up hill across gravel and grass.

There are plenty of days I love painting my face, fussing with my hair and rocking a pair of sexy heels, but most days it's more about the smiles and those sweet little hands on my arm. I can honestly say that some of the moments I felt most beautiful were moments that would make a fashionista gasp. However, I wouldn't trade those precious gifts of time for a super model's body, hair or closet. Those moments will last forever, long after my feet no longer fit into these shoes.

My Brothers Failed Me

I'm the girl in the striped shirt.
My older brother is on my right. My cousin is on my left, and
my little brother is the one next to her.

At some point I'll stop posting about the half marathon, and start posting other things. However, today is not that day. Today I feel the need to discuss three things I don't know how to do that could have helped me during the race. Three things most brothers teach their sisters, or so I've heard. Three things my brothers did not teach me.

If you're not a runner or if you get grossed out easily, you might not want to continue reading. Just consider this your warning.

I grew up on a small farm. 20 acres, two creeks, lots of animals, and two brothers. I was the middle child and the only girl. I was the girl who liked playing in the mud, but usually wanted to dress like a princess as I played. I was a muddy primadona, a rough and tumble girly girl. Best of both worlds, right? I liked sports and dolls, wrestling and dancing, proper etiquette and burping my abc's. I learned a lot from my brothers, like how to throw a punch and a seriously good fast ball (something I've completely forgotten), make a bow and arrow out of a tree limb and spare string, and enjoy being outside living life like a kid is supposed to. Thing is, they didn't teach me three things I think would have helped me run faster or at least feel more comfortable in Saturday's race. That is why I must declare that they failed me. Let me explain in detail.

1. I've never peed in the woods. I know, right? How can you spend your summers barefoot, running through the woods and not pee behind a tree? I always went home, and this past Saturday, I had to pee at the start of the race. I held it til we got to the porta potties and stood in line. I lost a lot of precious time. Then as I passed wooded areas along the course, I saw runners making a mad dash for the trees. Actually a guy used a tree right next to the road, right next to us running. That was interesting. Anyway, I was jealous. Somehow that part of country living escaped me, and I wondered how I missed that. You might not think that falls into the 'brother teaching' realm, but I feel like they could have at least encouraged me a little.

2. I've never successfully hocked a loogie. I train with a girl who can hock and spit a perfect loogie six feet into the woods with no choking or dribbling. She says her brother taught her (AND she has no problem peeing in the woods). Before I started running, I would have been disgusted. Now, I'm jealous. Especially during the race when my saliva got thick and the act of swallowing was making me nauseous. Oh, I've tried. Trying to get the glob from my throat to the ground without choking or sliming myself has proven to be over my head. I even read an article from a runner's blog that detailed how to hock the perfect loogie. I followed every step and still couldn't manage anything but pathetic dribble while choking on the glob in my throat. I'm thinking maybe this is like learning a new language, when my brain and throat were primed to learn this skill, no one taught me. I blame my brothers.

3. I don't know how to shoot a snot rocket. Now this is another skill I could see no use for until I started running, but you can't carry a box of tissues with you on long runs or races. You can't properly use them and dispose of them even if you could carry the box. Blowing your nose into your shirt is just too disgusting to be done except in dire emergencies. And wiping the snot away with your hands and arms (what I had to do Saturday after I had used up my one Kleenex graciously given to me by my always prepared friend and training partner) is just as disgusting. So, what's left? Shooting a snot rocket, off course preferably into the woods. This is a lot like the loogie thing, there's a technique for getting it properly launched away from your face and body. I've only attempted this one time on a trail run. I'll spare you the details, but it wasn't pretty. I might as well have just used my shirt and my hands. Now, I can't actually tell you for sure that my brothers even have this skill. I don't think I've ever seen them shoot a snot rocket. So, I'm just assuming since they're men, it comes naturally. Don't most really disgusting things just come naturally to them?

I love my brothers. They were pretty great to me growing up, well minus smashing Junebug shells in my hair. I may never forgive them for that. All in all they were pretty respectful of my being girly and liking it. But, in teaching me gross boyish things that could help me on my quest to conquer race distances most people think are crazy. Well, in that, they failed me.

I'm coming in behind the curve here, and I may never figure it out. Thanks guys!

My Scrawny Spirit

[Imagine a cleverly drawn cartoon with a witty caption.

If I waited for the time to execute the idea I have in my head for this, I would never post again.]

If you haven't noticed, I started the NaBloPoMo excited to post every day, and only made it a week in before I let it slide. Granted, the first day I didn't post was the day of my half marathon. That day was a doozie. First I didn't sleep much; as in, I dozed maybe an hour, woke with my nervous stomach at about 3am, and pretty much just laid there and stressed about the race all night. Then I ran harder and faster than I had run in about 6 weeks due to my ankle injury. That resulted in severe pain about mile 11, but I finished! 2:16:35 was my official time. Not my goal of under 2 hours, but under the circumstances I'll take it. I then hobbled around Savannah the rest of the afternoon shopping and eating (well, wandering until we found food would be a better description) before driving 5 hours back home. I was busy and exhausted. So, I'll give myself a pass for that day, but the other six. Not so much.

I'm horrible at following through and pushing myself in my commitments. I make and use excuses WAY to easily, and it seems like I'm constantly letting myself and those around me down, not in the big things but in way too many little things. The big things, that's another story.

I've been a Christian for 27 years, and while I've battled with doubts in the church, I've never doubted Jesus is who he said he was or that he did what he said he did for me. I stuck with my major all the way through college and continued with it into grad school. I've been married for 11 years. I've been a stay at home mom for 7 years. So, I CAN stick with some things, but looking at those things in detail, they seem to be things that are just as hard to quit as they are to hold on to. Most other things, the things that are easier to quit than to continue, the ones I can find and make a good excuse for, those are the things I can't seem to stay committed to.

Aaaand……then there's running. This would definitely qualify as one of those easier to quit than continue things. I could come up with a billion excuses to quit running, but I've stuck with it. Oh, now, I gave up about a hundred times that first month. I can remember talking to myself on the treadmill, "who does this for fun?" "Runners are nuts." "I must be doing it wrong." "My crooked legs weren't made for running." [Little known fact, I had braces on my legs when I was a small child.] "Oh, God, it hurts! Why can't I do what nearly every kid on a playground does effortlessly?" "I'm broken." "Am I supposed to be this sore?" "I've injured myself." "I quit." But something inside me kept screaming over all those other voices, "No! You can't give up. Not this." Well, that's the voice I listened to, and I kept going. I pushed through the pain, the struggle, the juggling of kids and schedules and homework and housework. I pushed through that first race and found I was hooked. I was immediately looking for the next race, the next training plan, the next path on this journey. I've run several 5ks. I ran the Peachtree Road Race (10k). This past weekend, I ran my first half marathon, and I'm getting ready to start training for my first marathon. 26.2 miles, and I guarantee sometime during my training, I'll want to give up. Definitely during the race, I'll likely hit the wall and have an internal temper tantrum. If you could have a mic in my head during the race, I'm sure it would be quite entertaining listening to me wrestle with all these voices and the occasional, "ooh, I like her shoes….I want a donut….squirrel." Hopefully, though, the mental and physical endurance I've built during training will kick in and the voice that says 'don't quit' will still be louder than all the others.

All that got me thinking. Why exactly is running the exception to my committment issues? Why is it so important for me to keep going?

I've seen a pin floating around pinterest's health and fitness section that caught my eye. I can't find it currently. So, I'm gonna paraphrase from memory and add my own two cents.

"A well-built physique is a status symbol, not because it conforms to a certain standard of beauty but because it is rare. You cannot buy it. You cannot inherit it. You cannot steal it. You cannot borrow it or hold onto it without constant work. It shows dedication. It shows discipline. It shows self respect. It shows self restraint, dignity, patience, work ethic and passion. It isn't the body alone that is so attractive, it is the person within that body that makes it the status symbol it is."

My initial goal when I started running was to run a 5k and get a little healthier. I was inspired by The Oxygen Mask Project and my husband's initial interest. I was motivated to be healthy for my kids, to be strong and vibrant as they and I grow older. There was a little fear mixed in, too, when I thought about what would happen to my autistic son if I were unable to care for him. However, as I started to see and feel my body change, and began to understand the difference between skinny and fit, I started craving bigger challenges and harder workouts. After the 5k came the 10k, then the half marathon. Next up is a 30k and a full marathon. I'm even trying to figure out how to do a triathlon next year. Weight lifting and HIIT, yoga and tabata. The stronger I become the stronger I want to be. I love that feeling, accomplishing a goal and feeling my body strengthen with every challenge.

I don't need a European sports car or diamonds or extravagantly expensive clothes or handbags. But a well built physique, that's a status symbol I want, and I'm willing to do what it takes to get it. I will run and lift and work and eat right. I want to look strong, feel strong and BE strong. While that isn't the only reason I run, and definitely not why I started, I think it's the biggest reason. There is also the fact that I love to race. The atmosphere of each race is addicting, and I find myself more and more drawn to the experience. I actually LIKE to run now. I like the physical act of running. It clears my head and makes me feel accomplished. I also take great pride in my commitment to running. I'm proud of myself and my internal drive. I've surprised myself, and I hope I'm able to keep surprising myself.

So, back around to the stinking at commitment thing. Where's the connection? One of my favorite podcasts to listen to is Ravi Zacharias. He's a Christian apologist born in India and based in Atlanta who is respected all over the world by many different religious leaders. He is known for having an uncompromising faith that he shows in everything he does, and for speaking the truth he unwaveringly believes with such love and respect that even those who are vehemently apposed to Christianity will listen to and respect him. He has spoken on spiritual and mental disciplines on his radio broadcast "Let My People Think", about how they're much like physical discipline. You must discipline yourself in prayer, faith, learning, commitment and _________ [insert positive character quality here]. These things don't just come naturally. They must be sought out and put to use. You cannot become spiritually strong unless you exercise your spirit. You cannot become mentally strong unless you exercise your brain. Use it or lose it, so to speak.

What keeps me married in the hard and hopeless times? The fear of divorce and all the destruction it brings. What keeps me at home with my kids even when I feel like I've been degraded to thankless menial work for tiny little tyrants? The fear of doing this whole parent thing wrong and my children having to pay the consequences for it. What kept me in graphic design even when I questioned whether it was the best path for me? What else would I do, and how do I know I would be any better at something else (why does it matter now anyway, I do laundry, dishes and chauffeur kids around all day)? Why do I continue to follow Jesus? Because he has proven himself over and over again to me, and if he isn't real, then I'm afraid nothing is. Why do I keep running? Because I'm afraid of going back to my old weak sedentary life.

What in my character allows me to break commitments that don't have those kinds of consequences? Apathy, I don't care or fear the 'little' consequences, and I lack spiritual endurance when my character is the only thing at stake.

I don't actually care. I can't, or I would use what keeps me committed to running to keep other commitments as well. So what….I committed to posting every day. It's not like anyone who doesn't know and love me in real life actually reads this blog. They'll be alright without a daily post from me. So what….I committed to cooking at home and not eating out this week. The kids (with the exception of Jackson) would rather eat out anyway. So what….I committed to reading and studying that book or area of interest. I just don't have the time, and I'd rather relax, i.e. obsess about how overwhelmed I am and just collapse on the couch or bed and refuse to actually DO life.

First I don't care like I should, but then even when I do really care, I lack the spiritual endurance I need to push through the doubt and negative voices, at least when there is no fear of giant consequences. I can't push through if I'm not really afraid of what might happen. Building a strong spirit that will push through even when it is only my character that suffers is not as important to me as that obstacle is hard.

I feel like I'm typing in circles, and using the word 'so' way too much. How 'bout if I take that statement of a well built physique and tweaked it a little. I think it might help. If you've read this far and are still following me, you deserve a medal or at least a hug. Remind me the next time I see you. :-) Anyway, my adapted quote….

A well cared for spirit is of great value, not because it conforms to a certain standard of morality but because it is rare. You cannot fake it. You cannot buy it. You cannot inherit it. You cannot steal it. You cannot borrow it or hold onto it without constant work. It shows dedication. It shows discipline. It shows self respect and consequently exudes true respect for the spirit of others. It shows self restraint, dignity, patience, work ethic and passion. The body alone gives little value to the whole person, but the spirit is where lies all that makes us who we are.

The status symbol of a well cared for body only matters while we're in THIS body. When we leave it behind, the condition of our spirit will be all that truly matters. If the condition of my spirit here determined how I looked in heaven, would I be fit or scrawny when I got there? I think I want to shoot for fit. Is there a marathon plan for spiritual fitness? I may have to get back to you on that.

Race Day Eve

I know this is another really bad iPhone photo, but this was the dressing room at the Rock 'N' Roll Expo tonight. If you're a runner, then you get why I think this is so funny. Maybe not, but I do. :-)

Some random thought about my day.

I left my house in a whirlwind.

I probably forgot something very important I will realize as I'm dressing in the morning.

I are too much dinner.

I'm worried about the bathroom issues after eating so much.

I'm exhausted but not sleepy.

I had so much fun laughing and talking with the other mommy runners that my face kinda hurts.

I would have gotten lost walking around Savannah in the dark if they weren't with me.

I'm really bad at parallel parking my suv.

I miss my babies.

I'm really worried about the bathroom issues from eating so much dinner so late.

No really. I'm worried. Like seriously.

And I'm on my phone typing this out so I can stay on track with this whole NaBloPoMo thing.

First half marathon tomorrow.

I WILL be pasting that sticker on the back if my car before I drive home tomorrow.

Throwback Thursday

This photo is from about a year ago. It is a photo of my daughter on a particularly long, yucky day, and it perfectly depicts the level of exhaustion I feel right now. Besides death or serious disease, I can't really think of how this day could have gone worse. Nothing went as planned. I felt frustrated and stressed out most of the day, and I spent quite a bit of it grumbling to myself about how I have to do so much by myself. We tease Jackson about sounding like Eeyor from Winnie the Pooh. Well, that was me today, except moving around really fast like Tigger at the same time. What was the plan?

Well, it's the Thursday before a Saturday race. The half marathon I've been training for for months. This Thursday was supposed to be eating and relaxing, giving my body that last little boost before the race. What did I do in stead? Too much!!! And, I'm hungry. However, in the spirit of the season, I should look back on the last half marathon I signed up for and didn't get to race due to a combo of illness and injury.

Tomorrow, Lord willing, I will travel to one of my favorite cities to race one of the most popular race series in a distance I've yet to conquer. I'm healthy and, as of the typing of this post, uninjured. I may not reach my time goal, but by George, it's happening! So, I'm gonna say a little thank you to my God and my body for putting up with me today, and I'm gonna lay down and close my eyes. Tomorrow is another day.

Veggie Power

Check out this yummy kale my mom gave me fresh from her garden today!

[sorry for yet another crummy iPhone photo, I still haven't unloaded my CF card]

She gave me kale and I made a salad. I figured I would share how I make my own salad and dressing.

First I start with whatever greens I feel like using. Today it's kale, obviously. Whatever other veggies looked good from the market. Today that's tomatoes and broccoli. I know I might be breaking all kinds of pairing rules, but the point is to eat what you like, that is available and as local as possible. I try to add a protein of some kind. Today is pecans. Mmmmm. Makes me think of pie and Thanksgiving, but I digress. Then the dressing.

Equal parts oil and vinegar. I use olive oil and apple cider vinegar mostly, but I've also tried balsamic and grape seed oil. The apple cider vinegar is super healthy, and the olive oil helps your body better absorb the licopene in the tomatoes. So, that's my go to combo. Sweeten with honey to taste. Add a little acid. In this case I used lime juice. Pour over the salad and toss with salt and fresh cracked pepper, and its a meal. Of course today I'm carb loading for the race Saturday, so I'm eating a bowl of brown rice and quinoa, too.

The fact that I haven't had a single piece of candy or junk food since the 1st means I'm slowly conquering this sugar addiction one meal at a time. Of course, wanting to feel like a million bucks when I run this race Saturday has a lot to do with it.

I don't eat healthy to LOOK a certain way. I eat healthy to FEEL a certain way. Running has proven to me over and over again that the quality of my runs/workouts and my ability to push that extra 10 minutes or conquer that daunting hill, it is all connected to the kind of food I put in my body. All calories are not created equal. Now if I could just remember that AFTER I cross the finish line. :-)

Hot for the Holidays

It's November. The painted leaves are falling. There's a crispness in the air and a chill in the breeze. And, in case you miss the more subtle clues, Christmas decorations are EVERYWHERE! The Holiday season is upon us, and Thanksgiving is my favorite. Family, food and being thankful, *sigh* I look forward to it every year.

As we get closer, and holiday parties and school functions start happily cluttering up the calendar, I need more caffiene. Not being one for coffee, I prefer tea. But, the Holidays often call for a little more than tea and honey. With the chill in the air and the thought of family gatherings and good food, I start craving a desert type beverage, preferably HOT. Apple cider, hot chocolate, lattes and pumpkin flavored everything, oh I love it all. Thing is, its hard to find less processed versions of some of these things. I love true hot cocoa/chocolate made from bars and melted low and slow with milk and cream, but I rarely have time for all that.

The iPhone photo above (my camera is currently full of baseball photos, and I haven't had the energy to unload it yet) shows my two favorite hot drinks and I'll tell you how I tweak them for the Holidays.

The Silly Cow Farms Hot Chocolate fits in the five ingredient or under rule, and it tastes like the slow melted real deal. Add a little hand whipped cream and a peppermint stick or a dash of cinnamon, and you've got a super yummy Holiday inspired treat. Tazo Chai Tea Latte concentrate is a nice alternative to coffee, and being a concentrate, you can blend it with different milks and flavorings to make your own special drink. I make mine with half coconut milk and add a little pumpkin pie spice for my own version of a pumpkin spice latte.

They do contain sugar. So, if you're on a low or no sugar diet, these would be just for a special occasion, but they're way better than the corn syrup powder that comes in the packets.

I have only seen the Silly Cow Hot Chocolate at Whole Foods, but the Tazo chai concentrate is available at Kroger and Publix, and I would imagine other regular grocery stores as well. FYI: I've tried the chocolate chai concentrate and didn't like it very much. I have combined these two drinks successfully, though. Make the hot chocolate and add the concentrate for a spicy little caffeine kick. Yum.

If you have a suggestion for a hot Holiday drink, I would love to hear about it.

NaBloPoMo

I was scrolling through my favorite blogs while waiting on Jackson at music therapy, and I stumbled on a post about how to survive NaBloPoMo. My first reaction was, "ooooh, is that a disease I have never heard of? I have to click." Turns out it's not a disease but a challenge. November is National Blog Posting Month. I know, right? Who knew? I didn't. In case you haven't heard of it either, it's a challenge to bloggers to post once a day for the month of November. I'm a little behind already, but I think I might want to be in on this. So, sorry to my followers who follow for quality content. Alright now, I can pretend I have followers who are not related to me who follow for quality. I can pretend anything, like how super hot I look in my giant sweatshirt, pony tail, skinny jeans and bear claw boots right now. Anything is possible in my head. However, I do feel the need to warn you this might be a shallow, silly month.

Anyway, after I discovered that NaBloPoMo wasn't a disease, I started to go through all my saved drafts and see what I could salvage and make notes for other ideas. Then I actually read the rest of the post I clicked on. Yes, I'm one of those surfers. It's the millennial generation in me. I have a very difficult time paying attention online. Where was I? Oh, yeah. So, I used one of the suggestions and googled writing prompts. I'm in heaven! I really think I should have been a writing major. I scrolled through post after post of creative writing assignments and prompts, I was almost giddy thinking about trying all of them. Then I started thinking I should do them with my kids. Then I came to my senses and realized they would HATE me if I tried to do that, but that doesn't mean I can't grab one of those ideas and run with it. So, here is my first post committing to writing 30 posts this November. One a day. First a disease, then a vitamin. I think it works.

So, here's hoping this doesn't turn out to be another one of those things I jump into and then abandon because I never learned how to juggle. November is a crazy month. Here we go.