Penelope: Synonymous with Faithfulness

She had been there for at least a week, along the side of that busy road.  Abandoned and all alone, she had made the field beside the church her new home.  At least two others had tried to rescue her.  Someone had set out a plate of food and some water, while another had set a live animal trap, in an attempt to lure her in.  She was too smart for such a trap and leery of people but, for whatever reason, she chose to connect to Kayla, leading me to yet another moment of A Mother’s Pride.

After bringing her home, I went inside to fix her some food and water, while Kayla stayed with her in the backyard.  When I came back out, she was running after Kayla, all over our back yard, tail wagging 90 mph.  Words cannot describe how amazing it was to see such a complete and wonderful transformation in this little dog.  Only minutes ago, she was so wary that she wouldn’t even let us get within five feet of her without backing away, while barking at us; and now she was happily running after Kayla and jumping up on her legs as if they had been friends forever.

We named her Penelope and introduced her to our furbabies, by taking them all for a walk.  We also discovered that she had recently had a litter of pups; so recent, in fact, that she was still lactating.  We went back to the field and searched, but found no evidence of any puppies.

She was adorable and loving, despite her circumstances; but having two dogs of our own, I knew I couldn’t keep her so I had called my friend, who runs the Tails of Hope Dog Rescue, to share Penelope’s story and sent her several pictures.  As it turns out, one of her fosters was bottle feeding two new-born pups - not even a week old, they’re eyes were still closed - that had been abandoned in a neighboring county.

In hopes of filling a two-part void, we took Penelope to the foster home the next day, to see if she would accept the pups and allow them to nurse.

I’m pleased to report that Penelope is now playing the role of a surrogate mother to these two little pups.  All three are thriving and doing well in their foster environment.  It is our hope that, as soon as the pups are weened, all three will be adopted out to loving forever homes.

A Mother’s Pride

Relationships require constant work in order to strengthen.  As with every other kind of relationship, the ties between a mother and her child/ren can oftentimes be fragile.

She Ain’t No Sucker, Sucker!

What do you do whenever you want to find out about something?

Whether it’s to learn how to fix something on the computer, or to find out if other people are experiencing similar problems that you’re having with a product, or to define a word or phrase that you’ve never had before… Whatever the case may be, when you want to know something you turn to Google.  Through Google search, you can find the answer to almost any question that you may have.

Even my seven year old knows about Google!

Last year, CJ got a very special gift from Santa.  Everyone in our family has a laptop and she always wanted to borrow them to play her games, but it was hard for her to find a time when others were willing to share.  So, Santa did a little research on age appropriate laptops for children and found the adorable, little, pink, Disney laptop that she got for Christmas.

The other day, I was out shopping when my phone rang.  It was Chaun, calling to tell me about our youngest daughter.  When he came out of the bathroom, she popped up from her place on the couch and asked, guiltily, what he was doing.  He could tell right away, by her expression and the way she was acting, that she thought he almost caught her doing something she didn’t want him to know about.

He responded by telling her that he was taking a shower and asking her what she was doing.

“Nothing,” she said, “just watching TV and playing on the computer.”

At this point, he had walked over to where she was sitting and could see that she had the lid to her laptop down, so that he couldn’t see
what was on her screen.

“What are you playing on your computer?” He asked her.

“Nothing,” she told him, acting nervous and strange.

He then asked her to see her laptop to which she told him, “No,” while snapping it shut and holding on tight.

Actually, “holding on with all her might” would probably be a more accurate way to describe her clutch on the computer, because he then
went on to tell me that he had to muscle that computer out of her hands – she was NOT letting go – and when he finally got it out of her firm little grip, he saw that she had Google up with a search for “Big Girls Nekid” and results, with images, were displayed.

Afterwards, he took the computer away from her and sent her to her room to await for my return – he is of the belief that, since we have
two girls, “these types” of issues are for the “mommy” to deal with.  So, when I got home she came downstairs and we talked.

“What were you trying to find on your computer?” I asked her, in a curious tone.

Embarrassed and still under the impression that she had done something wrong, she refused to tell me what it was that she was looking
for.  Several hours later, and still not making much headway, I got the computer down and looked at the history.  From there, I found that her first Google Search was for “I wont to see big girls pepe and but” After reading this query aloud, my oldest daughter’s eyes got very big and she held up her hand, like she was in school and wanted me to call on her, and said, “Momma, can I speak to you alone for a minute?”

“No, Kayla,” I told her. “Right now I’m trying to understand what it is that CJ was attempting to learn.  If you know what this is about then you just need to tell me now.”

“Okay, well,” she begins. “Earlier today I forgot to flush the toilet.” (and I’m thinking to myself, no surprise there) “And I’m having my girl time, and CJ went in and saw it, and she asked me what it was, and I didn’t know what to say.  So I looked over in the garbage can and saw a sucker in there and told her it was a sucker.”

AH-HA!

And there you have it folks…

My baby ain’t no sucker, sucker!  She knew good-n-well that wasn’t the truth and, instead of arguing, she decided to find out the answer herself by looking it up on Google.

Needless to say, I got Kayla to dig out and dust off the age appropriate sex education books so that she could learn the correct meaning of
what it was that she saw.  And I told her that any time she had questions like that she could come to me instead of Google and I would tell her the truth. After all, that’s what I’m here for.

One Upped

I was at work when I got the call that turned my day from already-extremely-stressful to I’m-not-going-to-ask-what-else-could-go-wrong-because-I’m-afraid-I-might-find-out-and-holy-crap-I-can’t-take-much-more.  The display told me that the caller was a neighbor from down the street and while I thought it odd that he would be calling, I soon dismissed my concern – assuming that it was really Kayla calling from his phone.

You know what they say about people who ASS-U-ME, right?

“Yvette,” the caller said. “There’s been a little incident at your house.”

Immediately, I picture Fire Trucks, Ambulances and at least five police cars parked in my front yard.

“It’s not anything too serious.” He then informs me, “but ….” yadda, yadda, yadda is really all I heard until he reached the point where he said… “and when I went to help her put the window down, it fell into the house and broke.”

The word ‘broke’ not registering in my brain, I replied, “So can’t you go into the house and push it back up into the frame, then leave out the front door?”

“Well,” he said. “I could go in and push it back into the frame, but when it fell it shattered. So, you’re basically cooling off the outside right now.”

“OH!” I said, and I asked if he would seal it up with a plastic bag until I could get home and assess the damage.

One Upper’s – everyone knows at least one…

If you have a cold, then they have double pneumonia.  If you twisted your ankle, then they broke their leg in three places.  If you have a headache, then they have a brain aneurysm.

Today, I had lunch with a friend that I haven’t seen in a while and, after telling her my broken window story, she went into the story of how one of her twin boys ”blew up” their kitchen this past weekend.

The whole family was outside, washing their cars – one was vacuuming, one was soaping, one was rinsing and apparently, one got hungry and went inside to fix himself a bite to eat.

A few minutes later, he comes back outside and tells them that there’s smoke in the kitchen.  Immediately going inside to check things out, they soon discover that there’s SMOKE in the kitchen -  and it’s billowing out from the microwave door!

Upon opening the microwave, she finds that the noodles inside are on fire!

“Did you know that if you heat noodles in the microwave for three minutes, without adding any water, they will catch on fire?” She asked.

After grabbing the fire extinguisher and putting out the flames, dumping the now charred microwave in the garbage and opening all windows and doors to air out the smell,  she banned him from ever (until he’s like 20 years old) being in her kitchen, alone, again.  To which her oldest daughter busted out laughing and said, “HA-HA! He’s on Kitchen Arrest!”

While this friend does not usually fall into the category of being a “one upper”, she sure got me this time!

And if I’m being completely honest, this is one time when being one upped wasn’t such a bad thing.  In fact, it made me laugh (A LOT!) and it also felt good to know that I’m not the only one with kids who do completely unexplainable, crazy stuff – for no apparent reason.

Thanks Tiff

The Ghost of Room 218

If you know me at all, you know that I am very interested in anything paranormal. In fact, several years ago I belonged to a paranormal group – we went out and investigated for evidence of paranormal activity (like they do on Ghost Hunters).

One thing I’ve always wanted to do, was spend a night in a place that is reportedly haunted and this week I got my chance!

Mom and I were both on vacation this week, so I got online and started looking for something we could do, somewhere we could go that would be fun but wouldn’t cost an arm and a leg.  In my search, I came across a site for The Crescent Hotel – built in 1886 and known as being one of the most haunted hotels in America.  Needless to say, I called them up that very night and made reservations for two nights in one of their most active rooms.

First of all, let me just tell you how beautiful this hotel was… It was simply amazing!  In fact, everything about that little town was appealing.  Surrounded by mountainous lands with glorious trees and landscapes, the  houses were all very quaint and had tons of character.

The Crescent Hotel and Spa has changed hands several times throughout its many years and has quite an amazing history.  The story behind the room Mom and I stayed in is as follows:

Michael was an Irish stonesman who fell to his death during the construction of the building and his body landed in what is today room 218.   Michael’s ghost is reported to bang on the walls, turn the lights on and off and turn on the TV in the room.  He is also said to be quite a prankster and ”loves” the ladies… Well, that was good news for Mom and me because we were staying in his room for two nights and looking forward to experiencing his antics.

Not even ten minutes after we got to our room, there was a faint knock on our door.  I walked to the door only to hear two ladies wondering aloud if this room was available to the public.  I opened the door, which must have scared them to death because they were halfway down the hall when I poked my head out and said, “boo!”  We had a laugh together, then chatted for a while about the room and its history.

Later that evening, we went on a Ghost Tour of the hotel.  This is where we learned of the history of the hotel itself, along with many stories leading up to how it came to be haunted.  From young men, women and children falling (or being pushed) to their deaths, to a con artist quack who bilked millions out of families by claiming to have a cure for cancer then performing experimental treatments in his morgue.  The fact that this place is haunted comes as no surprise.

I had my digital recorder going for the majority of our stay (even when we were out and about, checking out the town) and I am still in the process of reviewing the recordings.  So far, I have found a few possible EVP’s and a host of unexplained noises; but, as for personal experiences, I must admit they were few and far between.  With the exception of our first night, when it sounded like someone was trying to come into our room at 11:30 – while mom slept and I reviewed my pictures, for the most part, our time at The Crescent Hotel was uneventful.  However, that did not  detract from how much I thoroughly enjoyed our stay and it in no way indicates that the place isn’t active.

Everything about this trip was fabulous – the beauty of the hotel, the friendly people that we met, the delicious meals that we ate and the gorgeous scenery surrounding us.  If you’re looking for a place to escape from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, with beautiful surroundings and a relaxing atmosphere, this just might be the place to go.

Two Tails of Hope

We have no voice.

We can’t tell you when we were born or even how old we are.

We can’t tell you what they called us or how we were treated.

We can’t tell you if we are current on our shots or if we are sick.

We are the animals that others abuse, neglect, over breed or discard.

We have been found in abandoned houses, tied to trees with our collars grown into our skin, starved to the point that we couldn’t even stand up, used as punching bags, kicked and beaten, set on fire, used as bait for human entertainment, the list goes on and on.

The cost of these transgressions is to be thrown into an already overcrowded doggie jail and given a death sentence.  Oftentimes, even those of us who are lucky enough to escape the death sentence will end up fatally ill.  Sometimes, a ray of light shines down on us and one of God’s Angels of Mercy scoops in and rescues us.

There are thousands of us. This is the story of only two.

Mena’s Story:

My name is Mena and I’m a Boston Terrier.  As far as anyone can tell, I’m about a year and a half.  I was abandoned at a truck stop and rescued by Miss Ginger, with Tails of Hope.  Not long after she took me in, I got really sick with double pneumonia.  After many prayers said on my behalf and a lot of TLC from Ginger, I was finally on the road to recovery and ready to find my forever family.

Sid’s Story:

I was found, walking down the streets of Memphis during all the great rains and flood waters.  I’m a Pug named Sid and they think I’m about three years old.  The lady who found me let me stay with her for a week, in hopes that someone would put out signs and try to find me, but no one came forward.  She couldn’t keep me because she already had two dogs and several cats so she took me to the humane society.

Two Tails of Hope:

Being a life long animal lover, every time I see the Tails of Hope tent, at the local pet store, I have to stop by and check out all the sweet furbabies up for adoption.  It was a normal Saturday afternoon.  Mom and I had gone to the movies and were on our way to Target, when I looked up and noticed the purple tent.

“Look, mom!  The purple tents are up.  Can we stop by and look at the adoption babies?”  I asked.

“We can look,”  she said,  “as long as you don’t go home with another dog.”

While I had been debating whether or not I wanted to get another companion for Abby, our 3.5 lb Yorkie-Poo, I really wasn’t looking for another dog.

“I won’t,” I said.  “I’m not looking to get another dog, I just want to see what all they have.”

And then…  I saw her.

She was lying down in a volunteers lap and you could tell that she was getting over being sick.  She was black and white, with the sweetest face you’ve ever seen.

She was a Boston Terrier named Mena and it was love at first sight.

Someone had already filled out an application on her but, after talking to one of the foster moms, I filled one out too.  “You just never know,” she said.  “They don’t all go through.”

About a week later, without any word, I had no reason to believe she hadn’t been adopted.  Then I got a call from Ginger; she wanted to know if I was still interested in adopting Mena.  We set up a meet and greet for Mena to come over and see how well she fits in with the rest of our family.  They came over the next day and she and Abby ran around and played in the backyard while we talked.  She was scheduled to get spayed on Wednesday and we were picking her up the following Saturday.

Not long after we got her home, we noticed that she was acting strangely – stumbling and tripping over her feet, as if she was drunk.  I thought it might have been a side effect of the medicine she was taking but, to be on the safe side, I placed a call to Ginger.  Stumped, she gave me some suggestions – we were treating her for possible heat exhaustion and keeping a close eye on her.  After several hours with no improvement, we met back up with Ginger and she took her back home for further observation.  She took her to the vet several more times but by Wednesday it was apparent that she wouldn’t be getting better.  With her being a rescue dog, we had no history of her past medical conditions.  The best the vets could guess, she had the last stages of distemper and had to be humanely laid to rest.

It was a devastating blow for everyone involved, that such a sweet and loving baby was neglected and then abandoned when the entire situation was completely preventable if only they would have taken the time to take her to the vet and care for her.  The next day I received a very sweet email from another Boston lover.  She expressed her condolences for our loss and told me of a friend of hers who breeds Boston Terrier’s, if I was interested.  Having my heart set on getting Mena, I thought about her sweet offer all night and got very excited.  I contacted her friend the next day, picked out our little Boston Terrier puppy and put down a deposit.

The next day, I was playing on the computer and somehow I landed on the Tails of Hope, pet of the week, website and there I saw MuChu – a Pug who looked just like Sebastian (aka Snoot), our family Pug when I was growing up.  I immediately placed a call to Ginger.  The first thing I said, when she answered the phone was “Ginger, this is Yvette. I want the Pug.”  Unfortunately, MuChu had been adopted over a year ago by a family in Florida.  I was a little disappointed that she didn’t have the Pug, and we still don’t know how I ended up on a webpage with him as the pet of the week, but I still had my deposit on the Boston puppy; although I was beginning to have some reservations about raising another puppy and Chaun was not thrilled with the idea at all.

On Tuesday, Ginger called. “God has such an amazing sense of humor.”

“He does?” I said, “What has He done now?”

She goes on to tell me how she received a call from the Humane Society, who normally only takes in injured animals, about a Pug that was surrendered that morning and they wanted to know if she would take him.

We’ve had Sid for about two weeks now.  He is such a good boy and quiet the lover boy too!  He responds to his name, he’s housebroken and gets along with everyone.  He loves getting his ears rubbed, going for walks around the neighborhood and playing with Abby in the back yard.

From the moment we met him, he was ours.  He ran right to me – as if he knew exactly who I was and that we would be his new forever family.

What Could be Worse?

After all these years, I never thought it possible for a question to be any worse than when a stranger looks at you and asks, “When are you due?” even though you aren’t expecting. But tonight, I may have been proven wrong…

When I woke up this morning, I was in a perfectly good mood. I was able to get CJ out of the bed in a timely manner. I had time to make my morning tea and our breakfast. We even had time to complete a homework assignment that we had started over the weekend but failed to finish.

Although it was another wet and dreary morning, in what has been a series of exceptionally dreadful weather, I was grateful that my drive into work was, for the most part, uneventful. While there were several overgrown sized puddles, I didn’t encounter any flooded areas and though all the animals I saw were lined up in pairs of two, I was able to make it to my destination without converting my car into the go-go gadget rowboat. With no defined trigger point, it seems that what started out as a good mood took soon took a turn for the worse and landed on pissy.

Later that evening I had several stops to make.

First stop, after picking up CJ from school: Walgreens.

Apparently, after work is the prime time for everyone to pick up their prescriptions… If it weren’t for the fact that it is now MAY and I am still dealing with the insurance company and trying to get our coverage straightened out, then I wouldn’t have had to sit in that line because I could have gotten my prescription on Sunday, like I tried to do when they told me we were still coming up as ineligible for coverage.

Next stop: Drop off items at Goodwill.

When we arrived, CJ was already unbuckling her seatbelt in preparation to get out of the car and “help”. Telling her to stay put, I put the car in neutral, pulled the brake, got out and walked around to the trunk. The rain began in earnest again and once more I told her to get back into the car, while I unloaded our donations. No sooner than I had closed the trunk then I looked up to find CJ was still outside of the car, and now she was telling me that she couldn’t get back in, like I asked, because she had accidentally locked the door.

Sure enough, after testing all doors, the car was locked up tight – engine running and my purse and cell phone all nice and cozy on the inside while she and I stood outside, in the cold rain, looking in.

After expressing one or two strongly emphasized words of frustration towards the child who had, in the blink of an eye, taken the mood pissy and turned it into pissed off, I looked up to see the shocked expressions on several faces of the Goodwill workers, who weren’t quite sure what direction that crazy woman was going to turn next and struggling with their moral compasses as to whether or not they should turn a blind eye or stay put and bear witness - just in case.

“BLEEP, Chauna! How in the BLEEP did you manage to lock us out of the BLEEPEN car? If you would have stayed in the BLEEPEN car, like I BLEEPEN told you to, this wouldn’t have BLEEPEN happened. BLEEEEEEP!!”

(I’m just kidding, sort of, it wasn’t really THAT bad)

After taking a deep breath, I turned my attention to the problem at hand and asked the small, gathered group of workers if anyone had a phone I could use.

Two hours and $180 later, my car doors were unlocked and we were finally on our way back home.

Tomorrow, I plan to find an address for the corporate offices of Goodwill so that I can send them a letter about the overwhelming generosity and kindness that the employees of their location here in Crazyville displayed tonight.

Every single one of them went out of their way to help me find a way to solve the problem. One lady even stuck around until well after her shift had ended, just so she could know that I got everything taken care of and was safely back inside my car. This very same lady used her own money to buy CJ a drink and snack while we waited. To experience this level of behavior during a time that might otherwise have been spent focusing on nothing but the bitterness of the situation was very humbling.

When I write this letter, however, I think I’m going to leave out the employee who looked at CJ and then looked at me and asked, “Is that your grandchild?”

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!

At least I could, maybe, see where people might be coming from when they ask a question like, “When are you due?” because I’m fat. BUT I do not look old! In fact, I have always been told that I look much younger than my actual age. CJ is SIX and I haven’t even turned 4D yet – I have a few more months to go, thankyouverymuch! How in.the.hell old does he think I am?!?! SHEESH!

It ain’t over ’til the fat lady…

As I come barreling down towards the dreaded door of 4-D, I oftentimes find myself reflecting on the years past…

When I watch my girls outside playing or acting silly with their friends, it brings to mind fond memories of being young and carefree.

When they come home and tell me stories about their day in school or complain about their least favorite subject, I think about the things I would have done differently, had I known then what I know now.

And sometimes, when I’m alone and lost in reverie, I think back on mistakes that I made along the way or, at times a few of life’s more embarrassing moments;  but of all the awkward instances that come to mind, I don’t think any of them could top that of last night.

Nope, last nights performance will be one for the record books!

It was Kayla’s 2011 Spring Concert.  We had paid our $5 and were in the high school’s performing arts center, watching each of the middle school choir’s sing – sixth grade choir, boys choir and advanced girls choir.  And out of the advanced boys and girls choir, 27 were selected for All State.  That is an amazing accomplishment and a testament of just how good these young singers are.

They were wonderful!  All of them!

A couple of hours later, ending with a tribute to queen, the performance was at a close; but you know what they say about the show being over…

It ain’t over ’til the fat lady…  falls??  No, that’s not right.

We were sitting in the middle of the theater.  Grandma and Grandpa were on one end and the other end was blocked off for the video recording.  Everyone was filing out of the theater in an orderly fashion.  Everyone, that is, EXCEPT for grandma and grandpa down there…  No, they stayed rooted to the spot and waited for each of their grandchildren to come to them, so they could hug and kiss and talk about how great everyone was.

The rows above and below us were both completely empty and yet there we stood, not moving - at all!  When all of a sudden, fight or flight set in and I had to find a way to get out of there!  So me, and all my infinite wisdom, decided that I was going to go for it…

I picked CJ up and set her back down on the row above us and then placed my left foot on the folding theater seat.  No sooner than I realized this might not have been one of my better ideas, than the weight of my foot caused the seat to lift, trapping my foot between it and folding me over like an elephant on the top of a tree.

“WOOO-OOOH!” I said, in what sounded to me like my slow motion voice, as my body bent unnaturally backwards and my arms went flailing about, in an effort to steady my balance.  With the imminent danger of hitting the floor (thank you, Cierra, for acting fast and catching me before I could hit) and my foot still trapped in the chair, I shift my body mass forward and grab desperately for the chair in front of me, in an effort to pull myself up.  Picture, if you will, the image of a turtle, trapped on his back and trying to get himself turned back over.

As the slow motion of my ultimate humiliation played on, time finally went back to normal and I was able to set myself back to rights.  Past the point of no return, and with my foot still firmly lodged between the seat, I swung my right leg over the offending chair and found myself on the safety of the row above.

In preparation of a quick escape, I yanked my foot out of its trap, took a deep breath and sang out, “SHIIIIIIT!”  Immediately shocking the delicate sensibilities of those around me – including Grandma and Grandpa who still stood in the exact same spot, mouths agape.

And there you have it folks, the fat lady has sung and the show is now over.   Something tells me Kayla won’t be inviting dear mom to her next concert.

Keep Me Hangin’ On

Once or twice before, in the very not too distant past, you may have heard mention of my work husband.  But I have failed to keep you informed of the many turns our relationship status has taken since then.

To recap, you may recall the proceedings that we had several years back - the one where he tried to divorce me.  While everyone was amiable throughout the proceedings, in the end the split was final, I had custody of the child, and it was clear to all that he would no longer be providing support.

If you know me at all, you know that this was obviously not the end of the story.  I would never choose a person who could be as cold-hearted as that – someone who could create a child and then walk away without providing child support – for a work husband!

It took years to find someone who understood exactly what we wanted and knew how to help us accomplish our goals.  He created this brainchild and though he said he would no longer be able to provide support, no one else understood it like he did and that wasn’t something I was going to just let walk away.   And, being the wonderful person/father that he is in real life, he was there for me each and every time that I needed his help.  Oh sure, I had to listen to plenty of grumbling along the way, but support me he did!

Then one day, I came across a posting for a job that looked like something I would be interested in doing.  If nothing else, it was an opportunity to learn a new skill set and that’s not something I could let pass me by.

Long story short, I posted for that job and my ex (even though I never officially gave him that title) work husband became my boss.

It’s coming up on a year since I first made the leap into this department and a lot has changed since then.

It seems like I hit the ground running, full speed ahead.  But you’ll have to stay tuned to hear more about it, because this story is to be continued…

Assburger

Aside from napping, reading is one of my favorite pastimes.  And not too long ago, I discovered the pleasure of listening to audio books while driving.  

Currently, I’m listening to an audio book by Jodi Picoult called House Rules.  This is a fabulous story about a teenage boy with Asperger’s Syndrome, which is considered a milder variant of Autistic Disorder that is characterized by significant difficulties in social interaction, along with restricted and repetitive patterns of behavior and interests.

As I’m listening to this story, on my way to and from work each day, and I’m learning more about its symptoms – things like:  dislikes any changes in routines,  appears to lack empathy, talks. a lot, usually about a favorite subject. One-sided conversations are common. Internal thoughts are often verbalized -  I oftentimes find myself wondering if I might not have a touch of this socially awkward disorder.

No, I’m not a hypochondriac… I don’t really believe that I have Asberger’s; but I think it’s very possible that I have a distant relative.

Have you ever had a day that started off on the wrong foot? 

That was how my day started, yesterday.  Literally. 

As I walked across the parking lot, to enter the work building, I stepped on an uneven patch of asphalt, causing my ankle to twist.  It was such a severe turn that I remember thinking to myself,  “this is exactly how people break their ankles”.  And I was amazed that I wasn’t hurt – a fact that I mistook for a good sign when, in reality, what I should have done was turned right back around and gone home.  Instead, I shake it off and continue on. 

As soon as I walked through the office door, Herman Munster approached me with a question that I had no way of answering without research; and I have to admit that I didn’t react very well to his approach.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that he asked a question – and I’m sure that he had probably been waiting for hours for someone to walk through that door so he could pounce – but the problem I had was that he didn’t even let me get in the door good before he was accosting me with a question that, a) wasn’t critical and b) could have been asked through email.

This entire scenario is a perfect example of a time when I believe I might have that distant cousin of the Asperger’s Syndrome:

Assburger’s. 

People who suffer from Assburger often feel like a lower grade of meat, the one that no one wanted so instead they threw it on the ground and it landed in a pile of shit.  In some instances, people who suffer from Assburger’s may also feel as if they’ve been stepped on, ground down, scraped off and tossed aside.

The good thing about Assburger’s is that it can be controlled with a tiny little pill called effitall.

In the book, House Rules, Jacob gets a sensory break whenever he becomes over stimulated and needs to pull himself together.  In the sensory room, there are several things that can be used to help you de-stress.  In addition to dimmed lights and padded walls, there are oversized massage balls, hanging stretch ropes and weighted blankets that you can wrap up in until you get yourself back in control.

I love the idea of a sensory room!  I think we should all petition our companies for a room like that.  Yesterday, my assburger’s reared its ugly head  and, unfortunately, I didn’t have my medicine handy.  This was a prime example of a time when I could have used a sensory break.

If you’re interested in finding out more about the identifying symptoms of Asperger’s, there are a few things you could do: 

1. You could Google Asperger Syndrome and learn about it online
2. You could ask your doctor about it.

Or, and this is my personal favorite, you could read the astonishingly good book, House Rules by Jodi Picoult.  A book that is guaranteed to make you have more compassion for people and their differences.