Does Ribbon Week ever end?

To answer the question in the title, no I suppose it shouldn't. We should encourage our kids to be drug-free and non-violent all year. Unfortunately, all but one of my kids take drugs daily and seem to enjoy fighting. If Ethan follows his current interests, he'll be a lead designer in the weapons industry by his mid twenties. I don't know what all that means.

Judy has been involved with Ribbon Week for the last three (four?) years. For both junior high and elementary school where are kids are (she can get discounted speakers that way). It isn't low-key. She arranges for a speaker for the assembly, organizes theme-activities, collects prizes and other donations from local businesses, and coordinates it all during the week. (She learned the first year to schedule it on the shortened UEA week {don't tell her I called it that, or she'll have the PTA brute squad beat me . . . non-violently}). And when you think it's all over, she writes and distributes surveys, thank you notes, and newsletter articles (guess where my expertise is used).

This year, on my suggestion, she arranged for Mike Schlappi to speak to the junior high. I thought it would be a good idea, first because he's an alumnus and second, he has a great story. I was a year behind him in school, so I didn't interact with him a great deal. I just remember that he was popular and cool. He was one of those who always stood out. When I played little-league football, I went up against him on the line one day--he was on offense, I on defense. During half-time my coach yelled at me because I wasn't getting past him. It was probably the next year when, during practice, someone came brought the news that he had just been shot. It was a shock and shut down practice. Things like that aren't supposed to happen to guys like Mike.

Mike shared the side of the story that I never saw, his depression and fractured self-esteem. But his character carried him through. You can read the article at http://www.heraldextra.com/content/view/284247/17/. If you look close at the picture in the article (not on the blog), you'll see Judy front row, center. She also has a quote in the article. Judy gave him a box of Cap'n Crunch to show their appreciation to him (I think it's mentioned in the article). Overall, it was a great success, and they hope to have him come on a regular basis. But then, Judy has always been successful putting these types a of things together. But I'm looking forward to the day that it is all put away in boxes until next year.

Halloween High-anxiety-jinks

About a month ago we got tickets to the Utah Symphony's annual Halloween Kid Concert. Sounded fun at the time: a cultural event that we could take kids to (which is to say, the only type of cultural event we could ever go to). Well, as I get older, and as I work with kids with certain challenges, I'm discovering more of my own challenges. As the time gets closer, I'm suddenly faced with all sorts of anxieties surrounding this concert and wishing I could avoid it somehow.
Apparently, we were avoiding some other anxieties about it as well. We know perfectly well how Ethan doesn't like events that are brimming with people (unless it involves Legos or fast cars). We know how it will turn out if we try to force him into it (sadness all around). But we didn't think to arrange an alternative plan for him until that morning. Naturally, we found that everyone we could think of had existing plans. But what coincidence! I didn't want to go either!
This is the challenge we face. What is the correct level of accommodation to take for these situations? We'd like to push Ethan enough that he can learn to deal with new and uncomfortable situations in more productive ways. But he is often too inflexible to try without the right incentive. We've learned not to push too hard, but I'm not sure that we haven't learned to push hard enough.
So, what is the correct level of accommodation for myself? I'm still struggling with anxiety and avoidance. I told myself all day, "It'll be fine. Everything will work out. You'll enjoy the concert. And nobody is going to force you to wear a dorky costume." But for some reason, all I could worry about was "But where am I going to park without getting another ticket?"
Resolution: This time I just let myself go with the flow. Judy is persistent and was anxious herself about driving in Salt Lake. She called several neighbors and was able to arrange someplace for Ethan to be so I could join them at the concert. Everything came together nicely, except the parking. Neither Judy nor I can stand the thought of paying for parking when there is free parking along the streets. So we drive past Abravanel Hall and there are no spaces. Past the Temple, and there is a nice place on the other side of the street. Construction up ahead. No left turn across Trax. More construction around the Salt Palace. Another parking space on the other side of the street. Now that we're going the correct direction, the space is taken. So is the other. Stupid horse and carriage can't go faster than 5 MPH when it knows GOOD AND WELL that the LAST SPACE I SAW WILL ATTRACT A CAR UNLESS I'M THERE IN 5 SECONDS??!! Does "Free 2 hour parking on Saturdays between 9 am and 6 pm" mean I have to pay after 6pm? This is why I didn't want to come.
We all survived. The kids didn't much care for the cultural experience. They mostly enjoyed sliding down the hand rails and jumping over the water fountain. I would have appreciated more Symphony and less opera. Ethan spent the evening playing computer games. Here are the pictures.

We started our cultural experience at Crown Burger, a place that we try to patronize annually. (When I worked at the Triad Center, I made it at least a monthly pilgrimage, which definitely made me more person than I was originally.) We brought Kyle's friend, Janessa, and Berrett's friend Curtis met us there.
There was a costume competition, so Janessa went as an angel, and Judy went as a sailor. Kyle went as a Batman fan and the rest of us went as sticks in the mud. Judy ended up taking roughly three dozen pictures, which gave Kyle plenty of opportunity to try out his different faces and poses.

Halloweeny-ish

This is for Sherry. Halloween kids. These are from 2003. We've got others, but this will do for now.

This is when Kyle was in his Chris Farley stage.

Yeah, this isn't a Halloween picture, per se, but it was with the others, and, well, gosh, it's cute.

Kyle's Photos

A while back I got an interesting email from a coworker. Usually the emails are quite dull. This one included a test. She had just gotten back from vacation on the beach in South Carolina and had attached pictures that her 11-year-old nephew had taken. He's autistic, so his interests are a bit different from the average 11-year-old boy. The point of the quiz was to figure out what was in the picture. So there were pictures of cords, countertops, coffee pots, water, the looking down three flights of stairs, and so forth. It was fascinating to me what he found picture-worthy, that he would be so entranced and enchanted by things that, as we grow, we find more and more mundane. I loved the opportunity to look at these through the eyes of someone who still found them intriguing enough to photograph, and to feel that intrigue again.

Judy has given the camera to Kyle on a few occasions, and it's interesting to see his perspective on the world--from the fascinating interweaving of lines and shadows, to textures, and then to the deepest expression of pathos.

Here, I'll show you what I mean:

Okay, so we could probably safely say the everyone is fascinated by chocolate. Or did I take this one?

I believe Kyle thought this guy was cute, if a little bit dirty. Do you recognize it?

The perspective gets a little distorted on this one. These are tables and chairs loaded in the back of a trailer.

I liked this one enough to use it as wallpaper on one of our computers. I like the interaction of the lines, but after a while I start noticing what's stuck in the cracks and start feeling a bit ill.

Another study of lines. These last two were taken at Hogle Zoo. Apparently the pavement is a lot more interesting than the animals.

I love the perspective of the lines in this one mixed with the human element.

This is Kyle's dramatic shot. You can sense the suffering and keen ache of the anonymous victim of fate.

I like this candid shot, but if you find it missing the next time you come here, you'll know that Judy has seen that its on here. I might be on the couch for a few nights.

Another ground shot. Or a close-up of an elephant?

Remember when your point of view was from down here? I hated those days, especially at the bank and all I could see was the bottom of the counter. Now if I'm on tiptoe and can see the countertop.

Six Quirks

This seems like a good place to begin a blog. Rob has tagged me, along with our five other siblings, to do a blog entry. Seeing as my blog-writing siblings haven't taken up the challenge, it seems a good time to try my hand at new technology. Couldn't hurt, anyway, right? Besides, I need to become conversant with blogging in order to help Dad get going with his blog. Although he learnt us all to ski before he took up the sport, I should probably learn to blog so I can give him some hints. But all of this is beside the point (blogs are all about asides).

Anyway, the rules:
The TAG Rules:
1. Link to the person who tagged you. (If you found my blog, you're probably already conversant with Robs, but here goes.)

2. Mention the rules on your blog. (You're reading them, aren't you?)

3. Tell about 6 quirks of yours. (Coming soon.)

4. Tag 6 fellow bloggers to do the same. (You'll have to forgive for not doing this one. Similar to my feelings on chain mail and warnings about the latest deadly 6-year-old computer virus, I'd rather not annoy my relations, friends, and acquaintances. However, for you, Rob, I would do anything [and it does provide needed material for a first post].)

Quirks (as promised):

1. I like root beer. I like ice cream. Please do not mix them and call it a "float." That's just nasty.
2. I like peanuts until somebody smashes them into an oily paste and slather's them on bread. It doesn't even smell good.
3. Pineapple, if meant to be integral to pizza, would grow naturally in Italy. It doesn't.
4. I constantly pick at my cuticles (you can even see it in my wedding videow, how embarrassing).
5. When playing basketball, I prefer to drive the lane where there is little chance of getting the ball over anybody over 5' 7" or taller.
6. I dislike making phone calls (see, it's nothing personal).

I probably could have filled out the list with gaatronomical quirks, but I resisted, but I am generally governed by my stomach. I'm still working on that.