Too funny not to share. . .I’m going to edit this later, but as an autism parent I’m laughing so hard I can’t get over it.

Admittedly I’ve was under nitrous oxide at the dentist when this happened, but OK, here’s what I’m talking about. People with autism are very literal. If I told Alex to “break a leg” he would think I was serious. The poor news lady had no idea:
World Autism Conference in SLC Utah.
The lady on the news told Temple Grandin to “break a leg.” I can’t stop laughing! Watch the video and see how Temple Grandin is SO well-spoken and graceful.


Rolling? I don’t even know what I mean.

I’m getting my blog working again, and please excuse the mess while I figure out what I did with some of my photos and posts.


Instead of “Rest in Peace” my headstone will read “But you said. . .”

The other day we took the kids on the annual trip to Lagoon (that’s a poor substitute for Disneyland for those of you not from Utah). Hey, the drive is long enough at 30 minutes; please don’t make me imagine a 15-hour drive with seven of us.

I snapped this picture of Alex and Harrison riding on the fish-a-ma-jig ride.

Alex reading The Far Side

sarcasm, etc. what must be going through his mind—Mr. Literal.

Mom it swears. . .

Hmmm, sounds like it might be PG-13

Laughs, Mom, it’s not even a movie. . .

It may be obvious that I don’t really blog lately. I’m too busy making jewelry, not eating french fries, and wondering where the hell these three dogs came from. But if I were a  blogger, and maybe I still am, I’d tell you that Alex is serious when he tells me he doesn’t want me to tell people he has autism anymore. Maybe that has shut me up. Maybe realizing that he’s 12 now and not a baby anymore has stuffed a cork in my writing. I don’t know.

Either way, calling myself Autism Momma is not exactly stealh for him. I can imagine he thinks I’ making a big deal of his “issue.” And at a time when he’s still trying to figure out what autism means to him. Though autism is a big deal, a bigger deal for him and this family is getting Alex what he needs to make sure he has a happy and productive teen-hood. How that affects this blog is unknown at this time.

Autism Momma is a very interesting label I’ve given myself, because that’s not who I am at all (we all know I’m an evil clown who is afraid of herself). So, between me and you, let’s just call this little adventure Julee’s News and Muse and see where it takes us. Now. . .how to transform without totally losing my audience. . . .hmmm. . . I wonder if is taken.

Lately I’ve been reading this book called The Untethered Soul (Michael A. Singer). It’s a super excellent book about different aspects of yourself. In it, the author offers a suggestion to deal with everyday emotional pain. Imagine your situation and the feelings attached (jealousy for example) as wave that washes over you and passes. That way you don’t ignore it or stuff it down; you experience it and it moves on. I’m totally sold on this method for many reasons, and I’ve been practicing it.

Which brings me to my next thought, “Hey, these intense feelings are totally like the waves on the beach–for reals.” Last year we visited Southern California for a few days and spent most of our time on the beach. I had lived in the area when I was little, so I thought I’d be ‘all that’ and get into the waves like I did when I was a kid. Uuuuuh, I’m not a kid, and my memory for how to body surf is sadly scant.

The first big wave knocked me forward off my feet, and I found myself swirling around and couldn’t reach the ground. The second wave slammed me into the ground head first. Wet and seriously concerned for my safety, I let go of the fantasy that I could still body surf and focused on enjoying the water. I started paying attention to the crest and ducking under it before it crashed. The wave would pick me up and gently set me back down before rolling into the shore. “Okay. . .this is actually exciting instead of literally terrifying. . . ”

These emotional waves of pain we go through all the time are even more like the waves than I realized. We can pay attention to when they are coming at us (oh dear, it’s that old jealous feeling again). Duck, and let the feeling roll over us; picking us up and setting us gently down again–where our feet can reach the bottom to stabilize before the next wave rises.

This is me, right before the smack down.

This visualization isn’t always easy. It takes some imagination and practice, but I’m just saying. . .it’s better not to get the smack beat out of you by something you can learn to manage, and I’ve decided not to body surf my feelings anymore.