Deja Vu Parenting

I recently started to realize that we all parent tainted by the experiences of our own childhood.

One person may have been an overweight child and therefore is super-vigilant about what they feed their kids. Another may have moved frequently throughout their childhood and is now determined to keep their kids in one place throughout their childhood.

One friend has commented more than one "Oh, come on. Your childhood could not have been THAT bad. Your parents are great!" Indeed, they are and in many way I had a fantastic childhood. I had a large family that loved and nurtured me, never wanted for anything and the support of many. I have a lot of great memories.

But many times, the not-so-great memories shape who you are as much as the great memories do (helloooooo... I AM a band geek, no?).

My personal demon is being a social pariah. Moving into a small Catholic school where everyone had been together since Kindergarten was not especially easy in the 5th grade. Adding to this was the fact that there were definitely "Mean Girls" who delighted in the sport of Chrissie Bashing.

Because this was so much of my formative years I am admittedly a bit paranoid about perceived snubs and how Jack is treated. Not great, I know, and I am aware that I do it. Admitting you have a problem is the first step, yes? And to be sure, my fabulous experience as a member of the marching band is sure to color how excited I will be should Jack choose to play an instrument (after he is, ahem, strongly encouraged to do so).

So I am curious, what moments from your childhood color your parenting?

Back in the Saddle

I was surprised to realize it has been over three months since I posted here. I stopped because someone mentioned that my posts don't sounds happy anymore.

In the three months since I have been here, lots of things have changed. Jack's aide Austin started at the JCC. He is helpful but not as aggressive in stemming the troubling behavior as we'd like. Our star Kyley starts in the afternoons with him on Tuesday. She is the one who made such strides in December and we have big hopes for her this summer.

Speaking of Jack, we've experience a lot of "firsts" this spring. We attended our first movie in a theater (Shrek Ever After), attended Kabbalat Shabbat services for the first time and J had his first solo sleepover and Grammy's. I simply cannot believe that this time next year we will be gearing up for Kindergarten.

I have had several "Sunrise, Sunset" moments in the last few weeks. At a recent Bat Mitzvah, a couple had a weeks-old baby at the service. I had a mini panic attack looking at the baby thinking it was only a matter of months - weeks, perhaps - that Jack was that small. I blinked at looked at the Bat Mitzvah gal and realized it was only going to be a matter of months - weeks, perhaps - until we are celebrating Jack's Bar Mitzvah. I literally could not breathe for 30 or 40 seconds.

This morning, we went to see "Toy Story 3" with Little Dude. I'm not ruining this for anyone, but we all know Andy goes off to college. I cried like a baby for the last 5 minutes of the stupid film and and getting a bit teary typing this now thinking of how short the weeks and months are (even though some days seem interminable). I try to play more, hold him close while he still lets me and kiss him every chance I get, but I still have Bad Mommy Moments and I fear those are the ones that will send him to therapy.

Work continues to be good and busy. I took over the e-news in May and, by all accounts, the members are very happy with it. I went to 25 hours in May as well, and am supposed to be jumping to 35 in July. My house is a disaster at 25 hours. When I add 2 more hours a day, I imagine FEMA will be called in by mid-August.

Osi and I are plugging along. We'll be married 10 years in November. We're hemming and hawing over a vow renewal with an actual person of God to witness this time, in the fall. I swear to you that my Italian Catholic grandparents still have no idea what happened at my wedding. There was "Ave Maria" and the breaking of the glass. I'm pretty sure when everyone else yelled "Mazel Tov" they murmured a "gesuntheit."

That is all the news fit to type for now. Here's hoping it isn't another 3 months until I speak again.

PS - See, Shan. Every work is not a masterpiece, comic genius, profound or even funny. Sometimes they're just brain droppings :)

Time to Bust Out the Bikini - It's March!

Ohioans have a complicated relationship with our weather. When it hits 50 degrees in March, we start wearing shorts. When it hits 50 degrees in November, we turn on the furnace and drag out the parkas.

Another thrill of being a Buckeye? The tail end of cold season dovetails nicely with the beginning of allergy season. I still can't tell you if the congestion in April is from a lingering sinus infection or the beginning of allergies (yes, I KNOW nothing has bloomed yet. Please note the sarcasm.).

In February, you cannot find a pair of gloves in any local store to save your life, but if you need a string bikini fr Valentine's Day, Columbus is the place to find it.

Let us discuss snow for a moment, shall we? Granted, we do not get as much as Buffalo or Cleveland. However, we DO get enough each year to a) be prepared when it is coming (The White Death!) and b) know how to deal with it when it gets here.

Allow me to clarify: "Prepare for it" does not mean stripping the local shelves of bread, milk and eggs (apparently, Ohioans crave french toast when it snows). It also does not mean canceling events 48 hours before the snow is supposed to hit.

Now that the sun is out, after, I swear, a month of gray days, we don't know what to do with ourselves. Teenagers are showing more skin walking to school than I do at the beach. I actually saw a lawn crew mowing last week. People. Please. I implore you, just buy your mulch at the local BP station and wait it out.

Spring is upon us. If it is March in Ohio, it must mean sprinklers and kiddie pools! It will be 57 today. I guarantee I see some nimrod in shorts. People, pace yourselves. I cringe to think what you'll be wearing in August if March is shorts weather.

Follow the Yellow Brick Road...

After months of getting our head around Jack's diagnosis, researching, and talking to psychologists, teachers, aides and administrators, I think we may finally be on the road to help.

It feels a little bit like Oz's Yellow Brick Road. It started when something unexpected dropped out of the sky and into our family. While there was no singing or dancing or odes to The Lollipop Guild at the outset (aside from the musical stylings of Mr. Marc), we were in a strange land, no question about it.

Now that we've started our journey to the Emerald City (that being a healthy, adjusted Jack who needs no additional help in the classroom), we have found friends along the way. We call our teachers, psychologists, aides, social workers, family - everyone involved in Jack's care - TEAM JACK. Some of them have helped us to understand with our minds what is going on. Some of them have taught us to open our hearts. All have given us courage to move forward as a team.

We added another member to Team Jack this week. We met Austin, the young man who will be Jack's aide in the classroom for the foreseeable future.While he doesn't have experience with special needs kids, he seems like a great guy.

I am unconcerned about his minimal experience for several reasons: 1) Haugland is giving him a crash-course in behaviors and autism, 2) Our care coordinator Amanda will be in the classroom with him frequently during the first month to show him how it's done, 3) It is really the personality of the aide that matters to us and 4) Jack is so high-functioning that he doesn't need intensive intervention, just prompts, which anyone can provide. And Austin coaches Little League. How cute is that? A 20-something single guy who volunteers as a Little League coach. Bonus points, Austin, mad bonus points.

We also have a few people along the road who have thrown up obstacles. People telling us that Jack should be in an MRDD classroom, telling us what he can and cannot do. Only Jack is able to tell us that, really. Mixing my metaphors, we also have a resident Frau Farbissina. Who makes faces at our suggestions and, indeed, could be a sergeant in "the militant wing of the Salvation Army." While I wouldn't go as far as saying these folks are "Wicked" I would say that they are well-skilled in the art of throwing an occasional fire-ball in our path (we have yet to see the Flying Monkeys. I wait.).

Austin is an excellent (I know, you totally thought I was going to say "awesome" there, didn't you?) addition to Team Jack. Only time will tell how long it will take us to reach The Emerald City, but I know we are well on our way.

More Things I Have Learned

It has been an interesting week here at Chez Zimmer. I have been so wrapped up in getting past the Temple Israel Purim event on Saturday, that I haven't really looked ahead - which has been refreshing.

I peeked at the calendar this morning to find that I really have nothing this week. NOTHING. A rare occurrence, indeed. The only evening activity on my calendar this week is a much anticipated girls' night on Saturday.

This past week was the polar opposite. I was sick, had many Jack-related appointments and the stress of a temple-wide bash on the weekend. So this week, I learned that I will work for less money in order to work in my jammies, heavily medicated and with a tissue stuck up each nostril at home. The worth of this particular benefit is immeasurable.

Having worked with volunteers - either in a paid position or as a volunteer and volunteer leader - I take some things for granted. For instance, that volunteers should be a) listened to, b) made to feel as if their contributions are making a difference and c) recognized. This, along with utilizing a volunteer's expertise and passion in any given area is the key, IMHO, to getting them to stick around. This week - actually, this month - I learned that this is not common knowledge. Every organization that works with volunteers should have a basic volunteer management training program. Just my two cents.

Also learned, don't try to have an impassioned conversation filled with heated emotion - either positive or negative - with an intellectual. They either don't want to get it or will try to talk the impassioned individual into the logical, reasonable point of view, which anyone giving an impassioned diatribe doesn't particularly want. Don't kill my buzz, man.

Finally, extraordinary days are possible. Had one today, in fact. My Jack Jack had a perfect day. Grammy and Grandpa were here when he woke up, he went to temple dressed as a pirate where he saw both Mr. Marc and cavorted his most favorite playmate, Mr. Stone.

Here is the beauty of my kid. In the midst of the chaos that was the Purim carnival, my shining star found a balloon and spent a good deal of time batting in around, drawing others into the game with him. He was surrounded by games galore, jumpy houses and about 200 other kids and my fabulous little friend made up his own game and was fantastically happy to be playing it.

After we got home, he was happy to remain dressed in his Purim costume and was incredibly lovey all night.Very snuggly and huggy.He fell asleep as I sung the last song in our nightly bedtime repertoire: Hey Jude. An end to a perfect day.

Already learned, but bears remembering: Be thankful for days like these. Lock them in your memory and draw on them for your strength and your happiness.