Tell Me, Mr. Poetry Magazine, Do You Still Love Me?!

I don't know what I want in a writing relationship. I feel in love with this certain tall, dark, and mysterious poetry magazine months ago, and sent it some of my favorite pieces. But I never heard back and never heard back, and eventually came to the sad conclusion that it was never meant to be, that the magazine had folded and I was to be alone forever. So today I sent an email withdrawing my poems. And then I received a response.

It was beautifully written all lowercase prose, although it was broken into stanzas like poetry. "why?" it asked me. The loveliness was almost heartbreaking. "you are talented, your poems will find a home elsewhere."

I don't want my poems to be elsewhere, I want them to be there! I tell you that generally my whimsy guides me, and my whimsy wanted this site and this site alone. My heart was stolen and I can never get it back. Even their response to my withdrawal was evanescent and lovely.

So I begged. "I thought you were nonfunctional, I went about this all wrong, please reconsider!" I had broken off my engagement and now I wanted to take it back. But the question is, will I be forgiven? I'm dying to know.

It's a rookie mistake, and I am most definitely a rookie. I'm learning new things every day, and now I know not to make assumptions and that I should query before withdrawing. I learn from my mistakes, but I would be so much happier to learn from an *almost* mistake.

I've been asked if I'll ever write about Niko and Williams. I have, in a way. I submitted an essay to Real Simple that I never expect to hear back on. I'd like to do an article sometime, because I think a Williams parent could write it differently than anybody else could. But at the same time, it's too hard. I've tried so many times, and they either come out clinical (our life isn't clinical) or weepy (our life isn't weepy). They don't turn out how I'd like them to, because it's still so raw. I don't know how to explain my son to those who don't know him. One of my friends told me to write my essay like I was writing him a letter, and it did help. It was much looser and informal, but still not quite right. But do you know what is right? This blog. I can speak about Niko on my terms, in my own way, and I feel like there isn't judgement. It's...very nice.

More Jumping and Screaming

Today I learned that I won the CoolStuff4Writers.com August contest! It'll be up soon.

I asked Luke if he thought I'd ever stop hopping up and down and being excited if something got published. He said that he didn't think so. He makes me so incredibly happy. So again, http://abrokenlaptop.wordpress.com if you're interested in reading some of these pieces.

Niko went happily (I hope!) to school. We took a one year picture of Nina, who was an emotional mama's girl today, and it reflected in her teary eyed pictures. I think they're wonderful.

On The Premises

I got a happy email today saying that I tied for first place in the On The Premesis #6 Mini Contest. I'm so excited! It should be up soon.

Oh No They Di'n't!

Oh yes they did!

I get a call from Niko's school. AGAIN. They say, "He's fussy and I think he needs to go to the hospital." AGAIN. I don't have the car. AGAIN. So I call June in tears, AGAIN, and she is my emergency contact so she goes to pick him up. Which is fortunate, because I wouldn't be able to pick him up since I lost my wallet and ID. AGAIN.

So they think Niko is warm and his eyes are goopy, but they can't take his temperature. He threw a massive fit, and perhaps that's why the nurse decided that he needs medical attention. He comes home, and he's fine. No temp, good spirits. He plays with his friends. He's all right.

I understand their concern, and especially when considering his past medical history. But being called twice in his first two weeks of school is not okay. I called his teacher and said, "Please talk to them again! I'm throwing emergency clothes in a bag while I'm waiting for my son to arrive at home! Please remind them that my first instinct is panic."

I asked if maybe I should take a video of Niko when he's tantruming because it's fairly typical Nikolai behavior. Perhaps if the people at school were more familiar with it, it wouldn't be as frightening to them.

I don't want to be the mother who is always calling the school. But I want my son to have an education and a routine. It's a fine line between advocate and overbearing.

Perhaps I will do a Niko postand link them to it, perhaps with a video. Maybe I'll explain a few things about him individually, so they are aware. Things like: you will never, ever get a temperature from him, so don't even try. He flips the SECOND anything even remotely medical is around. Luke had a caulking gun on Saturday, and Niko went haywire. I guess those things really do look like gigantic hypodermics. And Niko 's eyes tend to be somewhat goopy, even though he had surgery for that when he was younger. I genuinely believe that most people truly want to do their best. I need to find a kind, non-condescending way to show them.

I Have A Sister Blog!

Because my life is so interesting that it takes two! JUST KIDDING.

I put up a list of the places that I've been published. Hopefully one day it'll be long and grand and wonderful. For right now, I think it's just grand and wonderful. I have always, always wanted to become a writer, and I'm slowly launching off. Quite honestly, I never thought that I could do it. I lack discipline and determination. Well, I used to, anyway. I've been working very hard on it. Luke can attest.

Thanks to all of you who asked where you could see my stuff. You made my little heart shine.

http://abrokenlaptop.wordpress.com/

Satisfied.

So the assistant superintendent called back today. She interviewed the two teachers who saw Niko's abuse. Or supposedly saw Niko's abuse. One teacher said that she didn't see anything, which is NOT what she said before. The second said that Niko was screaming (and many are familiar with the Williams meltdown, aren't we?) and his teacher grabbed him roughly by the arm and sat him down in his chair, end of story. She said she reported it to the principal, who took care of it at the time by coming into the room often. Which is NOT what she told me on the phone, in fact, she told me the opposite. Not to mention that she felt inclined to bring it up again over a year later.

The assistant superintendent politely asked if I was satisfied. Yes, I'm as satisfied as I'm going to be. I'm angry, though. And tired. The school's aware that something possibly went on, and somebody somewhere is lying. Who, exactly? I don't know. Whoever would be heartless enough to lie about the possible abuse of a little boy.

That's not my problem, though. Officially, I'm "satisfied". I don't know what really happened, and I most likely never will. I mourn the bridges that were burnt, but I acted as carefully and correctly as I knew how. I learned a lot through this process, and perhaps this whole rigmarole is information that somebody needs someday. That's the whole reason that I started this blog in the first place, years ago. In case somebody needed it.

This phone call today, the fact that it's been investigated and is now over, this should be good news to me. Instead I find myself sitting here and trying to remember how much optimism and faith I have in humanity.

A Phone Call

I received a call from the Assistant Superintendent saying that she was interviewing two teachers this week regarding Niko's alleged abuse in school. I appreciate the call, and I'm sure she appreciates keeping me off her back. We're moving forward.

Nina Luna

I had a nightmare about Nina this morning, so I'm quite happy that she has pulled herself up next to me to chatter. She's wearing a little teal dress and her hair is flying around her head like dandelion fuzz. I think she and I are going for a walk and maybe out to lunch while Big Brother Nikolai is in school. Nightmares are horrible, but one thing that they have always done for me is to make me appreciate life once I wake up.

A Perfect Weekend

We spent the evening at Luke's family's cabin. It was exactly what we needed! Nina played with her identical cousin, and Niko kept pulling Luke down to the creek to chase the cows. I drove the four-wheeler for the first time, and was advised not to shout out "Divot!" each time one came up. Apparently nobody needs to know about them except for me.

Also! I won this. I am very, very happy. Hooray!

:)

The Mercedes Song

Some people I know are putting together a playlist of everybody's theme songs. This is the one song that you think of when you think of yourself.

There's the rub, right? I have about four or five theme songs, but the Song Nazis demand that I narrow it down to one. This will actually require a bit of enjoyable thought. Right off the top of my head I think of "Under The Water" by Merril Bainbridge, or "Come Back From San Francisco" by The Magnetic Fields, but there are so many others. I have always wanted to ask people what songs remind them of me, and make a mix. It would be fun to see what other people associate you with.

Paula Abdul makes me think of Janyece, and the Cranberries make me think of '80. Creed is Riley, "I Know Him So Well" is Pypes. Everything old makes me think of Luke. "Have You Seen Her" by the Chi-Lights and "Red Rubber Ball" by The Cyrkle.

If you have a Mercedes song, let me know, would you? I might make that mix after all. :)

We Are Trained To Jump

So Niko's school calls me today, and tells me that I need to pick him up immediately. I have no car, and called several people before I found somebody to give me a ride. With Nina in my arms, I race into the office. He's not there. They tell me to go to the health office, so I'm thinking, "Oh no! He's with the nurse! Something is really wrong." So I race there. No Niko, but the nurse looks at my ID, gives me a Visitor sticker and sends me to his room. I have Nina on my hip, and I'm literally running to his classroom. I throw the door open and see Niko face-down on the floor. I nearly have a heart attack.

His new teacher is rubbing his back and says, "Shhhh, he's sleeping." Apparently during Music Time, which is when the teacher has her prep period, Niko had a diaper blowout, and the teachers and aids couldn't handle it. They freaked, and since they freaked, Niko freaked. So somebody runs for the teacher, and somebody else runs to call me. For a diaper incident.

"They scared me," the teacher said. "I thought he was choking, or something!" She said that she told them not to call me, but they already had.

The thing is, we are trained to jump. Any parent is, but you throw medical fragility in there, and suddenly everything goes into hyperdrive. "Come pick up your child" means that he stopped breathing, or something has broken inside. Somebody is going to explain this to these teachers, who simply aren't aware of the alarm that they cause.

Oh my lands. My heart nearly stopped.

Coincidence?

My father ended up in the hospital, but will hopefully be out soon. His nurse? Is that girl from my home area whose daughter has Williams. What a small, small, small world.

That's How We Roll

Niko's first day of kindergarten! He, like Pinocchio, is a real boy.

I sent him off in the depressingly bland school uniform that he's forced to wear. You know, to crush his spirit and imagination, and also so that he and his homies don't flash gang colors. He walked straight for the bus, climbed up in the seat, and there he was. He returned home victorious, without a call from his teacher. Until tonight, but she just wanted to ask a few questions after observing him for a bit. I'm so proud of him.

Meanwhile, Nina had precious, precious Mommy/Me time. At the doctor's office because of what I thought was an ear infection, but turned out to be *more* teething. That girl and her mawful of teeth...she's never done.

So now it's Monday night. I'm figuring out Audacity because I'm venturing out into the realm of submitting stories to podcasts. I found a site that will allow the author to read their own if they are A) accepted and B) of a high enough recording quality. I think that would be all kinds of cool. Niko and Nina are both lying side by side on the floor, watching Luke play Guitar Hero. Because that's how we roll.

Oh, yeah, and I write too.

Neverlands and Otherwheres just sent me the final proof to look over. We're good to go, huzzah!

So. I'm Afraid.

I enrolled Niko in his new school today. He starts kindergarten on Monday, and it's an all day special education class. That's right. All day. It starts at 8:00 and gets out a little after 2:00. I have mixed feelings about this. The first and strongest feeling is "My baby!" He's so little, and that seems so long. Especially since he's been having difficulty at school lately.

Difficulty at school. That's a polite way to put it.

That's my other fear. That's six hours every day that he could be hurt. Not that I think that will happen, but I didn't think that would happen before. I need a game plan. I need to figure out how I can be involved enough that I can watch over Niko, but not become one of those crazy psycho parents. "Hi, I'd like to join the PTA simply to make sure that you're not abusing my little boy. Who wants root beer?"

My understanding is that the investigation should begin this week or next. I am chronically nervous, and can't sleep at night. My faith in these people is...well, almost nonexistent. They have done very little to earn it.

I'm leaving soon to take Niko to the opthomologist for his lazy eye. This will be...yeah. Wish us luck. :P

On a happy note, my humorous horror officially made it through the first round. I was surprised and happy that the editors took the time to drop me an email and let me know, because usually you don't hear back until you're either rejected or have made the final cut. The anthology is called Dark Jesters, and I'm definitely going to pick it up whether or not my piece is included. Because I'm intrigued to see "humorous horror", and the editors are gracious, and courtesy invites courtesy. And I simply love to read, dear heavens, there isn't anything better.

No, Seriously.

A Mormon walks into a bar. She's dressed as an alien.

So the ET Midnight Moon Marathon was sensational. It really was. My parents came down to watch the kidlets, and Luke and I drove out to the Extraterrestrial Highway out by Area 51. We all met at the "Black Mailbox", and watched a lightening storm for a while. The marathoners started at midnight (congratulations, Luke!) then we drove up 13 miles for the halfers, and then the 10kers started at the Little A'le'inn, which was an endearing trailer/bar/restaurant combo. We were all wearing green glow-in-the-dark necklaces, and various other glowy things. Headlamps. Reflectors so that we weren't run down in the dark, and the like. Luke made alien faces out of reflecting tape, and I had two huge alien eyes peering out from my back.

This was a silent race. When it was time for the 10k to start, I was delighted to find out that the song playing was, appropriately, Concerning the UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinois. It was such a bizarre thing, so eerie, to be running out in the middle of the desert with all of these bobbing lights running beside me. It forced my mind to be quiet. I was thinking the next song would kick it up a notch, but it was 02.20 Boy from Suicide Sports Club. Which I definitely suggest that you listen to on youtube or whatnot, because it's amazing. Imagine being in the middle of nowhere with strangers running silently past, and listening to this haunting song. I'd turn my light to the desert and I'd see all of these strange night time eyes shining back at me. I'll definitely be there again next year, that's for certain.

Sleep Threatens To Overtake Me...Get Back!!!

You know that I hate to fall asleep. I'm afraid of my nightmares, I'm afraid that my heart will stop, but mostly I'm afraid that I'll miss something important. It's always been that way. I wanted to write about Saturday night's run, but I'm too tired to do it justice. I guess I just popped on here to kill some time before I go to bed. A year ago I was in the hospital, and I suppose that I've been thinking about it, and it makes me sad but mostly grateful. I really try hard to appreciate things.

The house is silent except for some white noise. Everybody is asleep, so what would I possibly miss if I went to bed? I don't know. Something fantastic. A meteor shower, or the earth exploding, maybe. A phone call. Life.

I live!

Just barely. The E.T. Midnight Moon 10k (plus an extra four "supportive" miles) wiped me out, and the marathon nearly did Luke in. But it was an amazing experience that I'll elaborate upon later. This is how it'll begin:

A Mormon walks into a bar. She's dressed as an alien. No, seriously.

Happy Birth...

Well, Nina's birthday fell flat on its face, but the good news is that she's too young to realize it. I was a frazzled, panic-stricken wreck, completely overwhelmed by Niko pulling Nina's hair, by his head pounding, by his new hitting himself in the head while he cries. He's mean to his sister, and he's mean to me. I simply don't understand it, and it hurts my heart. I don't know if it's because he isn't sleeping, or because it's Luke's busy season and he's MIA right now, or if it's because it's summer and there is no schedule. I'm at a loss. Anyway, Luke got home last night and ran over to help our dear friends pack the truck for their move across the country, and didn't get home until midnight. That's right, on our daughter's first birthday. There was a lonely birthday cake and a lot of crying at our house, and it wasn't just the kids.

But that's in the past. Today we did immunizations, always a pleasure, and later tonight we're going to mow down Niko's wild hair. He looks like an orphan with it curling around his neck and ears like it does. So it'll be a day full of tears for Niko, but that seems to be the norm lately.

Tomorrow Luke and I run the E.T. Full Moon Midnight Marathon, only Luke will be doing the half and I'll be doing the 10k. I haven't ran in months, literally, but I'm still looking forward to it. Running down the road, mostly alone, in the dark sounds like something that I need right now. My race starts at 1:00 AM, so wish me luck.

I also saw that the school district is having a meeting on Monday that is open to the public. One of the things on the agenda is autism and special services, and although Niko isn't autistic, I think that I need to be there, if only to see in person the people that I have talked to. The people that let me down, if you want to be honest. I am determined to educate myself, and make sure that nobody can pull the wool over my eyes again. I really want to be able to adequately protect my son. No, I want to be more than adequate. I want to be stellar.

It's been a tough couple of weeks, and I have worked very, very hard to stave off the depression. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't, but I have decided that the very act of trying to stand against it counts as a win. So this morning I got out of bed. I took a shower and combed my hair, and I'm doing the daily things that I need to do. I choose to see this as victorious.

Definition of Joy

Today is the first time in a long time that I have the chance to kind of kick back and enjoy the kids. Nothing on the agenda until tonight's Young Women's activity, so I'm cleaning the house and playing Tile Towers for Niko on Webkinz.com while Nina naps.

Princess Pretty Fingers has her first birthday tomorrow, and I think how much things have changed in a year. How did our family ever get by without her? She loves. That's what she does, and she's the best at it, and she loves her little heart out. We're so lucky.

Niko's having a positive moment right now, but his tantrums have been...wow. Like the tantrums of old, except with new twists. Now he's banging his head against things. The floor, people. He's started pushing and hitting. This is all new behavior, and I'm ready to pull out my hair. Is this typical learned behavior? Is there something more sinister behind it? That's what is wearying me lately, this constant looking over my shoulder to see if there is more that I should be aware of.

I finished my "humorous horror", and what's even better is that I like it! I submitted it last night. I'd like today to be a writing day, since I'm midway through a new novel, but we'll see how it goes. I had a writing epiphany the other day. I was reading about an author who's first novel became a best seller, and he was describing the fear that his sophomore attempt wouldn't do as well. And I thought, does that fear ever go away? Is there a point where you ever truly "make it" as a writer? And I thought, no, most likely not. But I genuinely enjoy the process. I love writing, I like when it comes easily to me. If it isn't coming fairly easy, then after a while I scrap it and work on a new, fun idea with a spark of life. I have the luxury of doing that because I don't have deadlines, I don't have contracts. This is a time of freedom for me, and perhaps I'll never publish anything beyond a few short stories here and there, but do you know what? I think that I'll be happy with that. The writing itself, the submitting and the like, it's just a joy. And what are we searching for if not joy?

Life Comes At You Fast. For Everything Else...

The emergency room bill came from our "Hello-has-our-son-been-abused?" trip.

Full skeletal x-ray to search for old/healing broken bones: $989.00

Other emergency room charges: $ 975.00

Total charges: $1, 964.00

Knowing that Niko didn't have old, unknown breaks? Priceless.

Anatomy of Niko's Heart

That's a picture of a heart.

Niko was lightly sedated, so he went drowsily ballistic yesterday instead of full-on combat mode. It still took three of us to hold him down, and they couldn't get a great look at his heart. Or a blood pressure, or an EKG. But from what they thought they could see (always reassuring) his function looks fantastic, and there's no blood where blood shouldn't be. Next time they're going to put him under a general anesthesia so that they he's completely out and they can get accurate pictures. I'd been begging them to do this for two years, but what do I know? I'm just his mother.

So Niko's particular problems are: 1)Severe aortic stenosis and 2) acute pulmonary blockages. Actually, I should say that those WERE Niko's particular problems. They have improved dramatically as he's gotten older. Still concerns, yes. Severe and acute? Not anymore. But we're keeping an eye on them, hence these mark-of-the-beast cardiology trips.

Let me show you what I'm talking about! I so ripped this off from the doctor's office yesterday. Teach them to leave me in a room alone. :P

I colored the aorta red. It's the largest artery in the human body, and sends blood from the heart to wherever it needs to go. "Stenosis" is basically a narrowing in the artery. So you can have your aorta with a little section of narrowing, and that would be aortic stenosis. Got it? Except in Niko's case, the entire aorta is narrow. They considered surgery when he was younger, but they didn't have a surgery to basically replace the entire aorta, is my understanding. But as he grew, the aorta grew as well. Lots and lots of prayer and blessings, I 'll tell you that. Niko was a pretty severe case beforehand. He'd lie down on the floor in exhaustion and his lips would turn blue.

I circled the pulmonary arteries with purple marker. Niko had a blockage in each artery, so the blood could make it through, but just barely. And now? They mysteriously disappeared. Again, I point to prayer and blessings.

I have a short summary of some of his medical problems in the entry titled "Blood Belongs In The Body". You can find it by using Blog Search in the top left hand corner.

Of course we're still concerned for Niko's health. We keep a great eye on him. But it's night and day from what it used to be, and that's what I want to stress for the people who are reading and struggling with their own child's diagnosis, especially if it's recent. The first year or two is so difficult! It's so very hard, and you're overwhelmed and simply can't wrap your mind around the things that doctors are telling you. But please believe me when I say that it gets better. When you finally get your feet under you, you'll hit the ground running. I never thought that Niko could have the life that he has. He's happy and active, he runs and plays and doesn't take any medicine at all. He eats, he sleeps all night. He has friends.

You are all going to be okay. And life will be beautiful again, only better because you'll have this amazing little mischievous creature. It'll be the way that it was always meant to be, and most importantly, you'll all be happy. :)

I know that sounds hokey, but it's true. Humans are amazing and we're adaptable, and one day we look back at something that we thought would kill us, only to find that it has become a mere bump in the road.

You're Awful. I love you!

I have my days all confused. I took Luke to work at 5:30 AM so that I could have the car for Niko's sedated echo...which is tomorrow. Whoops. So I get to dread it for another day. The sedation that they do here is really light, and it still takes all of my strength to hold Sweet Boy down while they try and get a good look at his heart. Everything in this town seems subpar. Luke is starting to look for a new job elsewhere, and all I can do is cheer. I hate this town, I hate this town, I hate this town.

So today is a pretty laid back day, and we've needed one. We made cookies that Niko won't touch, because he doesn't eat sweet things, and I'm writing a letter to the regional superintendent that I didn't get to speak to yesterday. I said, "The school police told me to speak to Mr. So-and-so regarding the abuse of my child in school" and I got routed around to everybody but him. I will be polite but firm. "This is going on beneath you. It is your responsibility and you need to know. Also, you need to be accessible to parents who need you." All of these people not being held accountable? Not taking responsibility? It boggles my mind. My mama taught me better than that. Why didn't theirs?

In other news, I ate clam chowder this morning with a fork because Niko has squirreled all of our spoons away somewhere. Nina says the best wide-eyed "Wow!" Luke's MIA because it's his busy season, but he calls home a couple of times just to check in, and I have 19 writing pieces out. I have more than exceeded my goal, and I'm really happy with that! My life is much fuller now that I'm writing.

My friend challenged me to write a "humorous horror". That's...a stretch. But I'm all about the challenge, so bring it on. She and I are equally competitive and supportive, and she's the fire under my feet. Her obscenity laden "congratulations" letter cracked me up and spurned me on. I'm so going to win.

My favorite song right now? "Love Me Dead" by Ludo. The Labyrinth references and the fact that he looks like my husband only accentuates the sweetness. This video is awesome.

Dance With Me.

The assistant to the superintendent admitted that somewhere along the way, they dropped the ball. It's a district matter now. She assures me, no, she PROMISES me that there will be a thorough investigation. She says it makes her sick to her stomach to think that maybe Niko was sent back to an abusive environment. My job here is almost done.

Scroll down to the playlist, and press The New Radicals "You Get What You Give." You and I, we're going to dance.

Right or Wrong?

I was a little too angry to write before now, but a few days of cooling off and I'm human again. I spoke to the principal on Friday, and received conflicting reports from him. He said that yes, there was disciplinary action taken against the teacher last year. When I asked for a report about that, he said that he couldn't tell me because of confidentiality. I said, "There were abuse allegations involving MY SON and you can't let me read the report because of confidentiality? It's my son! He's part of this! I had the right to be informed so that I have all of the information necessary to decide whether or not he would be in that same classroom. And I would have chosen to pull him from that class!" Then the principal assured me that the disciplinary action was for things BEFORE Niko, that Niko wasn't involved in it so he couldn't give me information on it. So, great. He's saying that the teacher was being disciplined for something besides yanking Niko around? That inspires confidence. And suspicion.

So this is what it comes down to. Either A) the investigation and disciplinary action last year DID involve my son, and the principal is lying about it for whatever reason, or B) he's not giving me a report because there was no investigation done concerning Niko. Either way, this is completely unacceptable. More than that, this is wrong.

This whole thing, it's really wearing me down. Which is the plan, I'm afraid. I have had to break it into little tiny steps, to prayerfully make my decisions. And this is the way that I'm looking at it now: is it right or wrong to follow through? Is it right or wrong to take Niko to the hospital? Right or wrong to file the formal complaint? Right or wrong to call the regional superintendent tomorrow? When I look at it that way, it isn't as hard. It's easy. It's right. Right to do these things, right to get this out into the open. If there is abuse reported and they're not looking into it, then there are dark things going on in these schools, and it needs to be brought out into the light.

My Brother Sent This To Me. It Makes Me Smile.

Attention, Parents:

The superintendent won't be in until Monday. Tomorrow is the Principal's first day back, and I'll finally have the opportunity to speak to him. The advocate said that in every nonverbal child's IEP we should write, "My child won't be able to tell me if there is abuse at school" under parental concerns. So that we have a plan in place. So that we have ammunition farther down the road. "I've been telling you that I'm concerned about this for FOUR YEARS," we can say. What an awful thing, but we're going to add it to his next IEP.

You know. For the next time that this happens.

Anyway, I've done all that I can do for the day. Nina is sleeping soundly, and Niko is jumping on the couch, grinning. I'm tired and worn and fighting off bitterness. I need to remember who we are, and we're more than this. We're not Williams Syndrome. We're not abused children. We are ourselves, and we are strong, and kind. And alive.

A Break In The Case, As The School Police Would Say

The school police were extremely fond of saying things like, "Hmm, sounds like this woman knows more than she's telling!" and "Sounds like this teacher is the key!" Life seems to be grand when you're playing Sherlock Holmes. It was equal parts endearing and frustrating.

I called the teacher who witnessed said abuse today, (for she was the key!) and she answered her phone. She had been up in the mountains for the last little while and couldn't get any reception up there. Imagine her surprise when she listened to her voice mail and there were messages from me. The police. The school. Whoever.

Niko's teacher was screaming at him, she said. Not just him, all of the kids. Grabbing them and yanking them around. Saying hateful things. She said you could walk by the classroom and hear the teacher yelling at the top of her lungs. Her aid was very good at keeping Niko away from the teacher, she said, which makes me think that he might have received more of it than the others. The teacher said, "I reported it to the administration last year, but they said that they were handling it and basically told me to mind my own business." She gave me the names of who she talked to.

Well. That puts a whole new slant on things, doesn't it? So apparently the administration was aware of this behavior before this teacher reported it. So how many people knew about this? More importantly, if it was such common knowledge, why didn't the school contact ME? Somebody is screaming at my son, yanking him around, and I blissfully send him to school with the exact same teacher for another year? I'm speaking with the superintendent tomorrow. I find that I have a lot to say.

These are the steps that I have taken, for those of you that might find this information helpful. First I tried to call the principal, but school was out for this month. So I called the district's public concern line (not helpful) who put me in touch with the person higher than her. (Also not helpful.) Then I consulted an attorney, who advised me to take Niko to the hospital to check for signs of abuse. The hospital released that information to the police, but I called Abuse and Neglect Detail anyway to file my own report. I am still waiting to hear back from them, but I was assured that they'll call as soon as they are able. I called DCPS. (Not helpful.) I called the school police, filed a report with them, and tonight I'm filling out an official complaint form that I received from the disabilities advocacy center. The idea, the advocate says, is to create a paper trail. So I am. I also called the region special education department and talked to them, and the school police gave me the name of the superintendent and told me to speak to him directly. So.

No media, and it isn't in my plans. I'd like to resolve this as peacefully as possible. Unless, of course, I find that I need it, and then I won't be afraid to scream buildings down if I need to.

That's only elementary, my dear Watson.

Tell It As It Is, Mr. Burke

"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."
-Edmund Burke


My earlier feeling of elation has left me. I'm just tired.

I filed a report with the school police, as per my advocate's instructions. And soon I have three officers at my door, sweet, bumbling men who can't seem to grasp what I'm telling them. They have questions for me: do I really want to report this? Why don't I have proof? Why did I wait so long to report? They don't think it will be reported as abuse at this time. I don't have enough information. The usual response.

I think that it is simple. Somebody said the words "abuse" "school" and "Niko" in the same sentence. Look into it.

Isn't that all they need to know? You would think so. When did we become so apathetic? It's horrifying.

"Nikolai" Means "Victory of the People"

Finally, somebody with some answers! A member of the advocacy group called me back yesterday, and gave me all of the information that I needed. "Do this, and this and this," she told me. "You talked to the school district on the phone? Then this issue will not even be addressed." Really. I wouldn't have guessed. *sarcasm sarcasm*

So I was on the phone all day. Leaving messages with the school police, the metro police, and the regional special education people. That's what I'll be doing today, too, until I talk to everybody that I need to talk to. Plus people coming over today, and all of that regular life stuff. I wish that sometimes it could sit on the back burner indefinitely, but it can't and that's good, I suppose. It keeps us human.

My friend and I were talking about Niko, who was put on this earth for a couple of reasons. He is to be a catalyst, I think. He can help us make things better. He's here to teach everybody patience and to demonstrate what unconditional love is. I see him doing this every day. Whether he's here to help us or we're here to help him, I don't know. It's most likely both.

Nina learned to wave while I was gone, and she was shy and kind of angry with me when I returned. For about 30 seconds, and then she was in my arms, squirmy and huggy with her pigtails flying in the air like banners. Always like banners.

There's an air of triumph to this family, I just know it.

Me. I'm Back.

I got off the mountain late last night, and am readjusting to life in the city. This is a picture that one of the girls drew of me. I really like it. I have a bad habit of sticking out my tongue when people take my picture, apparently, but I can't seem to help myself.

More tomorrow, after a few phone calls.

I did it.

I did not make this decision lightly, but I felt that they had ample time and warning. I called the school today and gave the name of the teachers so that this matter could be fully investigated. And I was severely disappointed. When I again stressed how afraid these teachers were to come forward, the woman said, "That makes me suspicious of these teachers." I said, "No, that makes me suspicious of the school." She thanked me and promptly hung up. So do I feel like the school will investigate this properly? I most certainly do not. They are not my advocate. Their words make me feel like they're gunning for the teachers, and I don't trust them to do a thorough investigation.

I had much more to say, but wasn't given the opportunity. I wanted to tell them that the matter has been reported to the police, and that I have consulted an attorney. If I hear that somehow these teachers are given grief for their report, then I will call down fire from heaven if I have to. I'm going to call the school again after hours and leave a lengthy message, and then send a letter. I have to get all of this finished tonight, because I leave early in the morning.

The most important thing for you to know is that Niko and Nina are happy. They love each other and are fiercely loved by us. I'm moving this forward, but I know that I am doing so with the right spirit. This is all going to turn out for the best.

Some good news is that I'm published again. :) An online zine that I chose because they allow reprints, (I submitted Show Your Bones which was the first piece published in The Vestal Review) and I was charmed by both its enthusiastic name (Shine! A Magazine of Flash!) and its little fluttering butterflies on the first page. I do allow my whimsy to guide me. So look for that in October.

And these heels? Despite it all, I'm still me. :)

You Let Us Down

Child Protective Services doesn't take cases of teacher abuse. They suggest that we go to the school. Who will be so willing to help us.

So.

I called the teacher who's number I have, and she's not talking to me. I can either give their names to the school and most likely get them fired, or I can let this go. I also called an disabilities advocacy group, and they made me feel worse than ever.

No wonder the teachers were so afraid. There is no help for us.

The Earth's In Orbit

Besides this whole thing with Niko's school, I'm leaving on Tuesday for a week at Girl's Camp. That's right, Girl's Camp. I'm one of two leaders, and we'll have eleven girls. It's frustrating to leave right now, but on the other hand, perhaps it is a good thing. Five days without phones and electronics and distractions. Five days to be with my friend Cindy and these incredibly crazy and amazing girls. I am once again reminded that no matter what I am dealing with personally, life goes on. It's sweet and bitter at the same time. How dare the world continue to orbit while we're in crises? How fortunate that it does.

Brought To Light

I am completely furious. Want to hear why?

I'll tell you why.

Today we spent five and a half hours at the hospital getting Niko examined. Which was a pleasure, as I'm sure you can imagine. They looked for bruises, they checked his body. Since he has a high pain tolerance and can't speak, they did a full skeletal x-ray to see if there are any old broken bones that we didn't know about. Fingers, ribs. It made me want to vomit between my feet. Luckily, there weren't any. And his Happy-Birthday-Broken-Leg is almost entirely healed, so there's some good news.

I had to tell the story over and over. How she had told me last year to keep an eye on my son, and I didn't know what to do, how we looked but saw nothing, how we couldn't switch classes since it was so hard to get him into school in the first place. I am so ashamed about that, the fact that I was given a veiled warning and I didn't act immediately on it. I did my best, but my best wasn't good enough. Apparently. Maybe. I still don't know what happened, and I had to tell them that, too.

They called CPS to see what the status of the case was. And CPS had no record. Why? Because the teachers still haven't reported it. They're busy, they said. The hospital gave me a number and begged me to call and report it myself. Oh, you had better believe that I'm going to report it. And report it and report it to anybody who will listen, if I have to. I am absolutely fuming. I want these teachers to cover themselves. I care about their livelihood and their families, and I know that this district is looking for them. I realize that it would be terrifying to make a report, on a lot of different levels.

But here is where I stand. Without them, we have no case. And why would I protect somebody who will not protect my son? They can be court mandated to share what they know. Would they be protected that way? No. But would I turn them in to make certain that this situation is investigated fully? Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes. Of course it is a yes. If they don't report it by tomorrow evening, then I shall, pure and simple. I wish that they hadn't put me in this situation. It makes my heart hurt. But their opportunity was more than ample, and I am a mother first. I am ALWAYS a mother first!

My dear friend was telling me that it makes her cry to think that Niko is the one to bring this thing to light. I absolutely agree. The feeling, it's...indescribable. I could kill. I could literally tear this woman to shreds...if it's true. And perhaps it isn't; perhaps that's why these teachers aren't reporting. But we must act as if it is true, because if it is, then this woman needs to be stopped. I told my friend that I would rather Niko be the one that brings this to light rather than some kid six years down the road. I will fight for my son. He will be protected. I want to protect those that need it, and maybe the things that I'm learning right now will be useful to somebody else some day. Something else that was sickening? In the waiting room room I thought, "Wow, all of these special needs kids." The nurse later said, "I'm sorry you were here so long. We had four other people all come in at the same time, and their circumstances were quite similar."

I remind myself that these things are always brought to light eventually. Do I think that I can change the world?

Why, yes. Yes, I can. You just watch me.

Driven By Love and Not Anger

Truth be told, I don't want a lawyer. I don't want to scream, "I'm taking this to the media!" I want this investigated and over and done with. I'm not sure how likely that is, but we'll see. I am, of course, talking to them a little bit later today. We still have a lot to cover.

The advice that I'm getting from everybody is to lawyer up, to get the best lawyer that I can afford. And believe me, sometimes I'm tempted. Because it seems like being sued is the only thing that people can understand. It's all about the money. But I'm not in this for money. I don't care about money. I do care about little kids not being safe in school. By law they're supposed to be there, but somehow they can't or won't take care of their kids. It disgusts me.

The names of the reporters will forever remain anonymous, despite the school district's promise that they could figure it out using yearbooks. They reported it to Child Protective Services, which was the right thing to do. So they told their story, but their names are held in confidence, and the district won't find out who they are. And the investigation will be ran from CPS instead of the school. This is a win for all of us. It's truly the most peaceable course of action that I can think of.

Luke gave me a blessing last night. For those unfamiliar with that, it's something we do in our church where a priesthood holder puts his hands on your head and gives you promises and advice that comes from Heavenly Father. You don't have to be a member of our faith to receive blessings, and they are really just very calming and helpful. My blessing said to channel my love for Niko and have that be my guiding force when talking to people about this. And I really like that, love instead of anger. "Lawyer up" and "Sue the pants off of them" and "Use your anger to really shred that woman on the phone"...that is the advice that I have been given. It's vengeful advice, although it is an extremely desirable route. There is anger. There's a lot of anger, but I have to remember to conduct myself with grace and dignity because anything else might be detrimental to my son. And this is all about him and the other little ones. I'm trying to remind myself that the school shouldn't be my adversary.

Now if I could just remind them of that, as well. I'm quite afraid that they have forgotten.

Round One...Wait, Is This A Fight?

Here's the thing. I call the school because I am horrified beyond belief by the id ea that something has happened to Niko at school. And they didn't make it any easier.

The first woman I talked to sounded almost sarcastic at first. She kept interrupting me with all of these questions. "They didn't say what the abuse was? Where were these women when this conversation took place? What are their names?" Which I understand, but let's be honest. I'm a freakin' WRECK. I wasn't calling in anger, I was calling heartsick. Then it all became a "We need names we need names we need names" thing, to the point that I was afraid there wouldn't be an investigation without me somehow getting all of these names. When I said that, she was all, "No, I'll pass what information I have on, but I really need those names."

I understand that. It's tough to investigate without knowing who is making allegations. But it also had the eerie feel of a witch hunt. I was so angry that the teachers didn't stand up and report my son, but now I think that I can see why.

A few minutes later, a different woman called and asked for their names. I said that I didn't know, that my friend knew them but I didn't. She told me that they needed their names so that they could interview them quickly before they had a chance to get together and come up with...answers.

My son was lost in this. It felt like battle. Why does this school district always feel like battle?? I had to fight to get him admitted. I had to fight for them to accept them in his wheelchair. And now I have to fight for this. Why can't they just say, "Oh, how horrible, we'll look into it immediately"? How about a "Thank you for letting us know your concern?" I feel like I could bash my head against a wall. I'm angry at the thought of abuse, sad, disgusted, and then I feel bad about accusing Niko's teacher because I like her so well. And apologetic. I don't make waves; I smooth them over. That's the kind of person that I am, so this is very hard for me. On the other hand, I'll be hung if I don't stand up for my little boy.

But there is always light in the darkness, and let me tell you about this piece of light. We had the missionaries over for dinner last night, and one of them had found a broken laptop and asked if he could take the keyboard from it. So he shows up and dances it around in front of me. I'm missing 14 keys from my keyboard, for those of you who don't know. The fact that I can type at all is a testament to my strength of will. :P

But he spent an hour picking out keys that fit, and this morning I glued them on. Sure, I have three Alt keys and two C's, but I don't look at the keyboard when I type. I have all of my keys. I no longer have to shift with my right pinkie. I came into my room last night and nearly cried, because this was the kindest thing that anybody could have done for me, and I had needed it, and I truly remembered that we're never simply forgotten.

On Your Mark...

I'm getting my thoughts together before I call the school district. "Hi, remember me? I called two months ago when you wouldn't allow my son to come to school in a wheelchair." This is going to be worse. Much worse.

I'm still so angry that I can hardly see straight, and I'm also very sad and exhausted. But of course I can find the fire to fight for Niko. Of course.

And apparently he's not the only one. This makes me even angrier.

What kind of an environment do we have here, where three teachers all see a child abused and feel that they can't speak up for fear of losing their jobs?! They kept an extra eye on him, and they shouldn't have to do that. They should be able to point and say, "No!" and be protected. And on the other hand, wouldn't it be worth losing your job if it would save children? Little children. Special needs children.

There are no heroes here.

I'm still sick.

Quick. Hide Your Axe. I Could Use It Right Now.

So I just got a telephone call from a friend, who was talking to HER friend, who used to work at Niko's school. And Secret School Friend was telling my friend that I have grounds to sue when it comes to Niko, since they had seen action taken against my son that they would consider abusive. What was it? She wouldn't say. She's not the only one who saw it, but nobody is willing to come forward because they would all lose their jobs. It was a regularly occurring thing, she said. And I can't really report it because I don't have any proof.

Of course I don't have proof. I didn't even know anything was going on. How could I? Niko doesn't speak. He doesn't comprehend things like most of us do. And nobody spoke up on his behalf, so.

So.

I am amazed how detached I feel right now. It's that dead feeling, and I know that in a few minutes I'll get that surge of all-consuming rage. Horror and despair. I just called Luke, and he is livid. I could actually hear him seething on the phone. I'm feeling hate. A lot of hate. I'll have to figure out what I can do. I'm hoping this isn't true. I hoping they burn in Hell.

Please, somebody tell me what I should do.

Music and Rollercoasters, Continued

So what are we doing right now? Listening to John Wayne Gacy, Jr, of course. Niko is cuddled next to me on the couch, his soft cheek resting on my arm. Nina is snoring in her seat by my feet. Life...is pretty much perfect right now.

Music and Rollercoasters

"When the revenant came down, we couldn't imagine what it was. In the spirit of three stars, the alien thing that took its form..."

-Sufjan Stevens, "Concerning the UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinois"


Niko's favorite song is "Concerning the UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinois" from Sufjan Steven's "Come on, Feel the Illinois!" album. Because my son has remarkable taste. We used to play it in his room to help him sleep, and if "UFO" or "John Wayne Gacy, Jr" or "Casimir Pulaski Day" starts playing on our computer, Niko will drop whatever he is doing and come running. His leg is so much stronger, and his limp is better. What a relief. I'll say it again: what a relief. Anyway, the song is in my song queue at the bottom of this page. It's astoundingly beautiful; melancholy and ethereal. My favorite part is the squeak of the piano seat right before he leans forward to play. That's so human. I wrote my first novel to this album. I hear it and think of Niko, and also how lonely I was when I was writing. We had just moved to this awful, awful place, and had no friends. Nobody from the ward, nothing. I felt more included when we lived in Finland, and heavens knows we were alone there! But something good came out of all of that, didn't it? Of course it did. Because that is the way that things work, and it's beautiful.

I'm happy when Niko goes to school, because then I get to focus on Nina. I feel like she never gets the one-on-one time that Niko had with us. Two kids is hard, a permanent balancing act. I don't want to be all, "Niko's school, Niko's hearing, Niko's doctor's appointments." And I don't want to be all, "Nina's roly-poly cuteness, Nina's adorable dresses, Nina's babbling." My parents were sensational at making sure that Riley and I were both equal in everything, especially my mom. She took great pains at it. I don't know if I ever told her how much I appreciated it, but I did. But my kids, you throw the two of them together and they're happy. They like each other. A lot.

I asked Luke yesterday if we could drive to a town 45 minutes away to go play. Well, calling it a town is being generous. It has maybe five buildings and a terrifyingly rickety roller coaster with one of the biggest drops in the world. Pyper and I went on it in November last year, I still didn't have my heart problems under control, and partway through I began laughing maniacally. I mean, it was the craziest laugh that I have ever heard, and it was coming from me! She asked me about it later and I said, "I thought that I was going to die. Just then, I realized that I was still alive." You should see the picture we took after it. Not only had we just split the biggest burrito known to mankind, (delicious!) but we were windblown and both of our eyes were wild. It must have been the lighting, but to me it looked like my pupils were star shaped. I miss her. I wish that she lived next to me and we could do these shenanigans all of the time. Plus she gave me lip stain that looks like a vial of blood. This is why we're friends. :)

Oh, and road trips. I still promise never to tell, Pypes.

The 4th of July

My mom will tell you that I have always loved a parade. And I have always loved fireworks. I have my definite favorites: the explody silver kind that leave traces of themselves in the sky. They're absolutely beautiful.

Having a child with Williams changes all of that. Fireworks are much too loud, and we spend our time huddling in our house cuddling and singing familiar songs at the tops of our lungs to drown everything else out.

Our neighbors here are insane. It was 113 degrees today, and everything is parched and dry. The whooping, hollering, and shooting off fireworks is certainly a death wish, but here we are, celebrating the nation's freedom. And I'm really happy for that. As for us, well. We watched Lupin the Third and I held Niko on my lap and played youtube videos of puppies and kittens. He was extremely tense and his body quivered in anticipation of the noise. But he didn't scream and cry, and that was pretty sweet to us. Luke went to lie down with him now. I anticipate a very bad night.

I ran the video to the mail, hoping to catch a glimpse of some fireworks before I was missed. It smells like war out there. But I was lucky: I caught a glimpse of an explody silver one.

RIP PS2

This is the end of an era. You will be missed.

Running

The psych ward was, of course, the psych ward. Mildly draining, kind of taxing. While I was driving home, I hit a nail and the tire blew. I pulled into a parking lot and dug around in the trunk to find the jack and everything that I needed. I can change a tire, but not quickly, and it's a lot harder in the dark. I was thinking how vulnerable it is to be out there, bent over with your head down while you're concentrating, and just then some guys from the bar next door decided to come over and be friendly. And I don't want to be friendly. I decided to bail on the car and send Luke back to fix it, and I was close enough to home that I decided to just walk it. After a block or so, walking seemed like a waste of time, so I began to run.

This is what I have decided about running, because it's satisfying but not fun. Running isn't so that you can fit into your clothes or keep your muscles strong. Running is to help prepare you for a time when you find yourself stranded in the middle of a dark city, and you need to run home. Going for a run is emergency preparation. And I like it. I like hearing my own breathing in my ears, and feeling how naturally my body moves. We were born to run, and I think that we have forgotten how.

The Purpose of Adversity

So I'm going to visit one of the women that I visit teach tonight. She's currently living in a mental health treatment center, and you have to do the whole shebang in order to get in. Know the patient code. Flash your ID. Take off your belt, empty your pockets, nothing sharp in your hair, no stilettos, etc etc. This particular center also houses adolescent male sex offenders in a separate area. Which naturally flashes me back to my old job, and I remember how incredibly draining it was. I'm so glad not to be there anymore. Anyway, I'm going to give her the lesson that I gave to the Young Women on Sunday, about overcoming adversity. I also emailed the bare bones of that lesson to one of my best friends yesterday, because apparently I am the biggest dork in the universe. But I know that adversity makes us stronger and, more importantly, more compassionate. My friend's baby is in the hospital with a major heart problem right now, and I thought, "I understand. I understand, I understand." I think compassion is one of the greatest emotions on earth.

That said, I signed my contract for the short story yesterday. They get first North American Serial rights and exclusivity for a year, plus the right to use excerpts for promotion if they choose. I get $25 and a contributor's copy, and that's enough for me. I get to pull a book off of the shelf and say, "Do you want to hear a story that Mama wrote?" The thought alone makes me smile.

Niko's limp is absolutely obscene. His left foot turns all of the way out, but he's getting stronger, and I'm grateful for it. I can't tell you how his broken leg threw me! "It was gruesome," Luke said, but it was more than that. I'm prepared for the other things. Heart things and artery things and kidney/calcium/hearing/visual/ things. But I had never built up my reserves for something simply snapping. Now I have thought about it. Now I am prepared. I vow never to be thrown like that again.

Nina is a mama's girl. "Ma ma ma mamamma," she cries, crawling toward me and lifting up her arms. She's so beautiful. She's so fearless and lovable. She was worth everything that happened in order to get her here.

I've been working on a new story lately, and I like it. Apparently it's a novel, because I'm writing it in chapters, but it's unlike anything else that I have ever written. The main character is an incredibly sarcastic woman with...well, we'll call it a special "talent", and the two male leads are her legal assistant brother (Thanks, Birgit! I gave him your job!) and an ex-junkie with bland hair and beautiful eyes. It's writing itself, practically, and it's a pleasure to be along for the ride.

Know what I've been thinking about lately? Forgiveness. Repentance and change. People taking horrible things and somehow making them beautiful. I'm discovering how much I really believe in mankind. It's somewhat of a relief, actually.

SOLD!!!

I just sold a short story! It's one I wrote last summer, and it's one of my very favorites. It'll be published in the anthology "Neverlands and Otherwheres" and should be out by September. Ish. Septemberish.

This story is very special to me. I am most excited. :)

Home Again.

I'm writing from my parent's house. The kidlets and I have been here about a week, and it's nice to enjoy some things unique to home. Like cable TV, for example. I've become obsessed with paranormal research shows, claiming that they'll give me "story ideas" when really, I just like to watch everybody jumping in the dark. I'm a bit sadistic like that. Other things that I like about home: wearing Riley's pajama pants. They're new, he's never worn them, and they pool around my feet and drag around behind me on the ground. Riding on the motorcycle with Dad, and Mom and I talking until way too early in the morning. Knowing that my kids can totally freak out (and they do. Yesterday we forced them utterly against their will to look at cute, fuzzy, wobbly little puppies, and it was like the very jaws of Hell had opened beneath them) and my parents will still love them. Seeing old friends. Seeing old places. "I was locked in that bell tower once. I learned how to rollerskate here. This place serves the best grilled ham and cheese sandwiches that I've ever had." At the same time, I'm so glad that I moved out of my hometown. It was sucking my soul away.

There's one thing about this area that I absolutely love, though. It has more stars than any place that I have ever seen. Dad and I were out looking at Polaris tonight, and I remember sitting outside when I was a young girl, drawing pictures of the constellations. I wanted to map the sky.

Friday The 13th Is My Lucky Day!

Wow, what's that blinding white documents envelope that I'm holding? That's my query, my SASE and the partial of my novel. Yes! I finally sent it out for the very first time! I am all kinds of excited, and happy, and just very proud of myself. Also note the Rock Band drum set and all of our paper products that we have to toss onto the mantel because Niko shreds them into confetti.

Anyway. Go me!

Happy Things.

Niko's cast came off today, much to our happy surprise. And these are flowers that I made for my hair. I think they're quite cheery.

Also, I'm getting my motorcycle license this summer. :)

Partners In Crime

Niko and Nina got into the formula and spilled it all over the floor. Niko was smart enough to crawl away when he heard me coming, but Nina is still new at this. She was fisting dry formula into her mouth as fast as humanly possible.

They make a great team.

Also, Niko's wheelchair in the lift. It was his triumphant last day at school. Look at that happy face. I fought for that.

For Those Of You Who Understand...

I was going through the fridge, trying to use up the random odds and ends that we have left. So lunch was an unusual yet fortunately delicious vegetable soup, a single Pillsbury orange roll, and flat Sprite. Apparently lame lunches are conducive to my creativity, because Ray decided to make an appearance.

He complained Ansel has always had it easy, and that he always ends up with what he wants. "So," he said, "if he gets what he wants MOST...what's he going to do with it?"

"Uh...enjoy it?"

Ray waved me away. "Of course not. He's not going to be careful with it. Now, I, on the other hand..." Ray then proceeded to tell me in no uncertain terms that he has to work for everything, fighting tooth and nail with an almost frightening tenacity. And if HE were to achieve what he always wanted, well then. That would be a completely different story.

My eyes went wide. "Ray! I know how to fix the second book!"

Nobody can do the scathingly sarcastic eyebrow thing better than Ray. "Not until you send the first one out, babe. And since when do you drink Sprite, anyway? Poseur."

Tomorrow. I'm sending my manuscript tomorrow. I promised Ray I would, and I'm terrified to go up against him.

Beautifully Frightening

I recently published my second piece. This is just a small one, a non-paying online magazine that specializes in super-flash, but I'm happy and proud nonetheless. It came out today and I lazily drifted over to see it.

There was already a comment posted, a strange man who wrote, "This is simply beautiful." And it IS beautiful, at least to me. But suddenly I felt dreadfully naked, somebody that I don't know reading my work. Which is the goal of being published, isn't it? Letting others read your work? It's silly in a way. And serious in another. Do I write to be read? I never really minded it. It is a pleasure to hand your story to your friend and to talk about it later. It's thrilling to hear your character's name on somebody else's lips. But.

I read this man's work, what he had up. And I kind of like it, I kind of don't. He vaguely reminds me of somebody that I miss. And I guess what is bothering me is the whole "stranger" thing. I want to say, "Hey, you and I and everybody on earth that we don't know, we should all sit at the counter and order Cokes. I need to know you." And then perhaps it wouldn't be quite so jarring.

Storms

One of the things that I miss the most about our old home is the rain. And while I was there, I loved the rain but missed the storms. The rain in that area is weak. It crawls on all fours, mewling. The desert has these amazingly brutal storms. The ground is cracked and dry, and suddenly the sky opens and everything is washed away.

The wind is ripping the oleander apart. It reminds me of a tiger shark thrashing when it has something in its mouth. It's absolutely delightful, and for some reason storms remind me of why I want to write in the first place. That feeling.

Nina is asleep, snuggled up next to an old doll of mine that I was mildly apathetic to. Niko and I are going to go out and watch the sky. He laughs at the wildness just like I do. We have so many differences, but when it comes right down to it, so many things are the same.

Hiding

My father always said that the phone was for our convenience. Which means that if it rings two billion times a day, I'm under no obligation to answer it. And so I'm not. This is a healing time, and I'm focusing on Eskimo kisses with Niko, and making Nina giggle, and trying to get my health under control so that I can feel almost human. Go to the bottom of this page and click on the song "Sora". I am going to sink under the waves for a while and let all of the extra noise pass me by. My real friends know how to find me, anyway.

Black Hair

Niko Has Wheels

This month has been straight out of the Twilight Zone. For instance, we have one debit card that we weren't forced to cancel...and today we lost it in the mall. So we ran right home to cancel it. At least we were laughing, and I can see how bizarre it really is. "Remember the great May catastrophe of 2008?" we'll say. And shudder.

Thank goodness it's almost June.

Did I Mention That I Hate This City?

So I'm currently on hold with the bank. Although my cards were reported as lost or stolen on Thursday, somebody has managed to put more charges on them. A woman from my hometown called me regarding them. "Gol, Sade, I can see that your cards were reported as lost or stolen. I don't know how this got through!" Thank goodness she called. I am all kinds of mad, but that's another story for another time.

See how calm I am? This is me being calm.

I'd love to shove my wallet into their mouths and make them choke on it.

If It Weren't For Bad Luck

I wouldn't have any at all. My friend's husband told me this, and it comes as no surprise. Pisces are supposed to be lucky things, but somehow that has never applied to me. I think it's a family curse.

Most of Thursday morning was spent in the doctor's office because Niko's sweet cherubic breath had turned to something you'd find in a mausoleum. Turns out he had shoved paper up his nose, which is what you do when your leg is broken and you're incredibly bored. Dr. Dork enlisted my help to "blow it out" so that the "foreign object will shoot out of his nose like a cannon". Which. It didn't. Hijinks and hilarity ensued, and not everybody needs to know the details. Let's just point out that a mother's love is the strongest thing on earth, and Niko's nose is currently spitwad free. The end.


Later that day, I lost my wallet. I noticed only when two different companies called because there was suspicious activity on my accounts. I was livid. LIVID, I say. How dare these people?! How dare they use my credit and debit cards, and slime their greasy fingers over my driver's license? They have my temple recommend. It makes me slightly ill. We went to Andrea's wedding, which was beautiful, and I had to tell them that somebody vile was in possession of my wallet and my recommend. Luckily the stake president was home and was able to confirm that I did, in fact, have a recommend, and I was able to attend the wedding. Also, they can flag my recommend so that if somebody tries to use it, it'll come up as stolen. Which makes me comforted, and also makes me smile. I can't imagine somebody using my stolen recommend because they have the sudden hankerin' to worship God inside of our temple. Then I ran home to Mom and Dad, and my blood sugar went way, way up while my stress went way, way down.


I saw '80's mom for the first time in years. I hugged her so hard and we cried, and I didn't want to let her go. She showed me '80's grave, and it's cheery. I was taken back by how bright and joyful the whole cemetery was, and felt that her headstone and everything was just perfect. I felt some of the guilt leave. I think I'm almost free.

I have new rollerskates. The charming, four wheeled ones, not blades. While the rest of this city falls down around me, I'll be skating along lazily like a child. With black hair. All of this, it makes me very happy.

Last Hurrah

I had better start using my camera again. I want to get a picture of Niko in his wheelchair, and Princess Pretty Fingers pretending that she's drinking from my cup. I want to get more pictures of my red hair before I dye it black this weekend. I think that the red has run through my system, and I'm ready for a change. But only semi-permanent. When I've had my fill of that, I'm going to go back to blonde. I'm naturally a blonde, for those of you who have no idea.

And most of you have no idea.

I had lunch today with the old primary presidency. It was nice and a little sad, a last hurrah before one of us moves out of state. We ate delicious Italian in a fancy new kitchen and I listened for the "ssssssss" sound of Niko dragging his cast across the floor and into trouble. Nina was full of smiles, as always. I'm still not quite sure where she comes from, but I'm so very happy that she is here.

After lunch we rushed to Niko's doctor's appointment, and I was floored to hear that his bones hadn't shifted this time. So after talking to the doctor/wheelchair company/teacher/principal/nurse/transportation/early childhood department, everything is in place for Niko to go back to school tomorrow. I am very pleased, and we see the doctor again in three weeks for (hopefully) a walking cast.

Tomorrow is his sedated echo. (Hate them.) Next week is his dentist's appointment. (Hate them, too.) We have a busy weekend, driving back to my hometown and then attending a wedding for one of my oldest friends, then heading back. I am planning to visit '80's grave for the first time. I wonder how that will be.

Seven Things About Me

Thanks for tagging me, Andrea! I'll see you soon! :)

1. When I get completely mortified, I can keep my face schooled. I send all of my emotion down to my feet, and I curl my toes.

2. I have never seen Star Wars. More importantly, I don't ever care to.

3. I can make one eye look straight and the other one look at my nose. Flattering.

4. I harbor the secret fantasy of being a Rat City Rollergirl. Seriously. I have my handle all picked out. I'd be The Bloody Butterfly. And I would be GOOD.

5. My next big purchase is going to be an open holed flute. I'm upgrading.

6. I used to do pageants in high school. That's right. Evening-gown-wearing, bright-smiling, gluing-your-swimsuit-to-your-bum-so-it-doesn't-ride-up beauty...no, excuse me, SCHOLARSHIP pageants. I wasn't that great, but I know how to work a dress. Which really impresses the congregation, I just know it.

7. I always laugh at Jeremy Miller's quote on the McDonalds "Dollar Menuaires" commercial. "They live like money grows on trees...trees they can't find!" It's hysterical. I can't help it.

Aftermath

I talked to Niko's principal on the phone this morning, explaining why I called the school district. It eventually boils down to: No matter what it was that they INTENDED, the message that I received was "Niko is unwelcome." That message nearly undid me, and I am a strong woman. I needed somebody to talk to them so that somebody else doesn't feel the way that I felt. I certainly don't plan to pursue it any farther.

So there's two and a half weeks of school left. Luke feels that Niko should finish school there, and I feel that would be sending him into a hostile environment. I honestly don't know what to do. But isn't that usually the case? How much time do we spend honestly not knowing what to do? Next year he transfers to a different school anyway for kindergarten.

It's 107 degrees here today, which is inhumane. Nina is wearing a little red skirt with stars, and Niko has been so happy, and hasn't had any pain medication since last night. I bought these incredible dark purple stilettos the other day, and my goal tonight is to paint my toenails. You know, after everything else is done. That's been my goal since last Wednesday. Ah well.

I currently have seven pieces out. I'd like to have ten, including soliciting an agent for my novel this week. Such lofty dreams have I. But now that everything is settling down, these things aren't too far fetched. Hurrah!

This thing with the school, and Niko's leg, and the thing at church. It had become all consuming. It was like Niko was a baby again, and every day was spent falling asleep next to him at the hospital. It was like I told the principal. There is no day off. We are always working on something with him. There is no relief, so when school, which we count on to aid us, becomes part of the problem, it's almost unbearable.

I don't want to be this type of mother. I don't want to always be fighting. I would much rather focus on watching Niko and Nina playing together, or take them for walks. I would rather cuddle my children than set them down so that my hands are free for battle. I want to work on letting all of this go.

I want to be who I really am.

Oh, gosh.

I walked into the IEP and was stunned to find that the main person that I wanted to talk to wasn't there. Oh, come on! Can't we finally iron this out?

I talked to his teacher, who said, "Oh no! That isn't what we meant at all!" She, too, seemed a little taken back by the way that the whole thing played out, which was a relief. She is a kind, wonderful woman who has worked very hard with my son. He's enamored with her face, and I was loathe to think that somehow there had been a paradigm shift that put her on "the other side". What a relief to confirm that she is who she always has been, an advocate for Niko.

They could see how it appeared to me, though, and that is also a relief. The woman I had the most trouble with tends to come across poorly, they said, but she really isn't that way. I am very much hoping that when I talk to her, things will resolve. Without bloodshed. I have been ready to make heads roll, but my anger is quick to diffuse if I see that they're making an effort.

In other news, this was the most positive IEP ever. Niko has been doing well, and it was nice to hear that for once. Such a good kid, he deserves some good things in his life.

So the end result is that the IEP was a success. You might hear some tired cheering in the background. That would be me.

Battle

Tomorrow is Niko's IEP. Individual Education Plan, for those of you lucky enough not to deal with them. This is where we sit down with Niko's teachers, therapists, etc etc etc and basically do battle.

It shouldn't be battle, but it is. It's two hours of negotiating, of basically being told everything that is wrong with your child and brainstorming ways to help it. Can he climb stairs? Yes, so we're okay there. Does he still walk on his toes? Yes, so we need to work on this. Can he speak? No, so we need to do sign language. No, I don't want to do sign language, we already tried that. Ix-ne on the ign language-se. So how about picture exchange? I loathe picture exchange, but he is much more likely to do that than sign language. Are we all on board with picture exchange? Which pictures does he need? Who will provide the pictures? We need to do it the exact same way, so how shall we do it. On and on and on. It's very wearing.

I always dress for IEP. I don my armor. Tomorrow I will be wearing St. George slaying the dragon and my battle axe on a chain around my neck. I need to remember that I am Niko's voice. They have so many kids to worry about, and I am only concentrating on Niko, so I need to avoid being crushed in the machine.

This IEP will be different, though, because I need to discuss the way that things went down at school on Monday. I felt ambushed and unprepared for what they wanted to tell me, and springing it on me like that was not okay. Discussing it in front of my son was not okay. Niko was distressed when I broke, and that wouldn't have happened if I had received some warning. I want to handle this with an open mind and hopefully some grace, but they need to know that discrimination will not be tolerated. After the IEP, I am calling the school district.

I was so weary. I was so tired of constant disappointments and challenges, of all of these low things that are happening daily right now. I was exhausted by the appointments, the bad news with his broken leg, with the meds. It gets old to follow him around every day, trying to get him to eat something soft instead of dry-crunchy, trying to get him to dress himself and decipher what he's pointing at. I need a break. I'd sell my soul for a day at home without anybody here. But here's what I have decided.

Niko needs me. And really, that's all there is to it.

Update

Leg rebroken, reset, and recasted. No pins and no adverse reaction to the anesthesia. Niko is home, on Lortab, and we begin the six weeks of casting from square one. I'm very relieved that they didn't have to open him.

I have decided that today is a new day.

Sweet Child of Mine

So, when it rains, it....I'm too tired to finish the end of that sentence.

Niko has been doing really well, and we even flew to Boise for a family baptism. I was really hesitant about taking broken-legged boy on a trip, but it was good for all of us. He needed diversion and I needed a break. I also ran my first 5k, and have decided that it was a success. I couldn't run the whole thing, but I've been ill and have decided to be kind to myself. Even though there was a lot of walking involved, I am proud to have finished. It also renewed my dedication for my 10k in August. Along the Extraterrestrial Highway at midnight, btw. I'm going to run with a headlamp and googly antennas.

You know. As true aliens do.

We were excited to send Niko to school on Monday in his shiny new Super Wheelchair. I expect it to make Transformer noises as it changes from position to position. I called Transportation, and they sent a bus with a lift. We loaded Niko onto it and waved him off to school.

I get a call later from the nurse, saying that I have to pick up Niko. I am carless during the day, but thank heavens Dad was down and he drove me to the school. Then some kind of bizarre impromptu meeting occurred.

Niko's wheelchair didn't have a seatbelt, which constitutes as a safety issue. I'll definitely give them that! What five year old wants to sit down quietly? But suddenly it became a matter of: the doctor didn't send the correct note, and they didn't know exactly what his physical limitations were. Can he sit in his chair all day? "Yes," I said, but that was apparently the wrong answer. "Or you can lie him down on the floor, if that's easier," I said. But they can't LIFT him, they said, and it was like being tossed down the rabbit hole, where everything I said was being refuted. What IS this? The wheelchair is too big for the classroom, and it's bulky. It doesn't belly up to the table, and it doesn't have a tray. It isn't conducive to learning, and there are only a few more weeks of school left, so maybe I would just consider...

And suddenly I got it. I got it, and I would have understood it a million times faster if my mind wasn't mush from everything that has been going on. My child breaks his leg, and it is too hard to accommodate him at school?!

I'm standing there with Nina on my hip, and Niko gazing up at me from his wheelchair. I'm surrounded by three women who have always been so kind to my son, and I have to tell you that it felt like a betrayal. I thought a lot of things. I thought, "You want me to keep him home?" I thought, "Great, we just went through this at church!" and "If a typical child broke his leg, would you kick him out of school?" and a myriad of other things.

What I SAID was, "I am just so tired," and I started to cry. Score one point for The Nasty Cruel World, and zero points for Team Nikolai.

So we had an appointment with the doctor today, and I was going to get a note to explain EXACTLY what Niko could and couldn't do. I think the tears were a bit unnerving to them, and they definitely were to me. I am exhausted. I am sick. I'm seeing my own doctor tomorrow to see if my "little sugar problem" is going to be lifechanging or not. I am too weary to comprehend much right now. I don't know if I should run screaming to the district or if I'm somehow in the wrong. I have Niko's IEP on Friday (Oh joy) and I know that I'll definitely bring this up then.

Turns out that it really doesn't matter. Niko's bones have once again shifted inside of his cast, so in two hours we take him in for outpatient surgery. They'll cut the cast off, rebreak if necessary, rearrange, and possibly do pins. He won't be able to go to school anyway. What a relief for them.

My friends have been wonderful. One called our names in to the temple roll, and another is searching for the school district's phone number. Meanwhile I'm fighitng to pre-register Niko at the hospital (they won't accept it online, I don't have a car to drive there, and they haven't answered their phone since noon today) and playing Sweet Child of Mine on Guitar Hero to entertain Niko. Wish us luck. Again.

A Question for the Williams Moms

Which is what I call you in my mind. The Williams Moms.

One of the most exasperating things about Niko being flat on his back is that he always SHOWED me what he needed. If he wanted peanut butter toast, he...well, I was going to say that he got the makings of peanut butter toast. But in actuality he would brandish a butter knife at me, and I knew that's what he wanted. Now he points vaguely in a direction and I'm all, "Would you like me to start the dryer? Would you like to see the newspaper? Please, for the love of humanity, start talking!!!"

When did your kids learn to talk? Five seems so late. I know that everything runs on its own timeline, but...but. That's all I have to say. But.

I believe he'll talk one day. He didn't learn to crawl until he was two, and we were so worried about it. And now that worry is just a memory for us. I'm hoping this will be the same way.

But.

Relief. Finally.

It couldn't have gone any better. The surgeon looked at Niko's x-rays and said that they were going to cast him. No surgery, no pins. No anesthesia, which is the bane of the Williams world. Luke and I looked at each other in shock. Was something finally going to go right?

It did. Niko's leg is encased in a Cookie Monster colored cast all the way up to mid thigh, and he is so much more comfortable! The bones had shifted inside of his splint, so they had to reset them, but now we don't have to worry about jostling him. Tomorrow they're delivering a foldable wheelchair, and then life will change for my little son.

Nina is so sweet, wearing a yellow party dress and clapping happily. With Niko out of commission, it is her time to shine, and shine she does. I've been trying to find the good in this, and I think that maybe it forced me to slow down. Things have been so busy and we were all worn out. I hadn't been spending much time with my family at all, and the kids and I have been lying side by side since Thursday night. If nothing else, I had a chance to reconnect with them.

That said, we're incredibly bored. Niko is currently watching the balloons spin around under the ceiling fan, and it is making him laugh. I recorded it and emailed it to my parents. And look, my blog now has music! And the music is picked at RANDOM! It takes me a long time to figure out things like this. Technology isn't my forte. But hey, one thing that I certainly have right now is time. As long as it doesn't take me more than three feet away from Niko, because then he does that sad "Why are you leaving me?" cry. Showers are a too brief, wicked indulgence.

Anyway, thank you guys so much for your prayers. I absolutely believe in the power of prayer, and I know that it came into play here. You're so appreciated!