1m2aSandbox

When I was a kid, I felt like the world
revolved around me – in a completely non-egotistical way.
Life simply seemed to be filled with rooms full of people who
became animated when I walked in, and shut down when I left. The
whole Life Story thing was, to me, supremely interesting, and I
felt like everyone else existed to be supporting characters in my
movie.


I couldn’t have put this into words, of course; it was
something that I simply felt – a sense of being the center of
the universe. And I don’t think I felt like I deserved it or
was incredibly special or chosen for this great event as much as I
felt like it’s simply the way it was. From my point of view
– which, admittedly, was clearly biased – everything
was important as to how it related to me, or affected me. If I had
to put a title to points of my life, they’d be such things as
“Jennifer Goes to Camp” or “A Young
Ballerina” or perhaps, in an after-school special sort of
thing, “Jennifer: An Angry Teen”.


Even as I got older and realized it wasn’t so, I still felt
like I was penning a very cool story as I went about my daily life.
My travels, my shows, my life felt interesting to me, a story that
still (surprise surprise) revolved around me and, later on, my
husband – as a co-star. Though I still got first billing. I
felt like a real-life Seinfeld, or Raymond, or Dick Van Dyke, or
Mary Tyler Moore. I’m not saying I thought I was God’s
gift to anything – just felt like the story revolved around
me. In an appropriate way.


And then I had kids.

In a study just released a few days ago
that many people in the medical community are calling a "complete
game changer" on how they deal with autism, environmental influence
was found to play a much higher role in causing autism than has
ever been thought.


The study found that about 38% of autism risk comes from genetics -
with environmental factors accounting for an astonishing 63%. The
New York Times, as well as many other national papers, published
href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/05/health/research/05autism.html?_r=2&emc=eta1"
target="_blank">articles that have rocked many people's
worlds. The medical community will be absorbing this impact for
years, and the study will result, many experts feel, in a complete
paradigm shift in how people look at - and strive to prevent -
autism.


And if that's not enough, href="http://www.environmentalhealthnews.org/ehs/newscience/prenatal-vitamins-lowers-autism-risk"
target="_blank">another study just recently released shows
that taking a prenatal vitamin at the time of conception cuts the
risk of autism in HALF. Half. Talk about big numbers.


I encourage you to take some time and href="http://healthychild.org/blog/comments/new_research_links_autism_environment/"
target="_blank">read the articles - it's big stuff
happening right now.

Don’t have time to talk today
– we’re shoe-horning ourselves in the car and hitting
the road for a cross-country trip at 4 a.m. Saturday morning. Yes,
that’s for ANNO DOMINI, or a.m., or in the morning. Call us
ambitious, call us organized, call us cheap – we’re
getting in the car and not stopping until we seen some white dang
sand.


Do I have lots of excellent tips on preparing for road trips with
your kids? You betcha. Do I have lots of sagacious words of wisdom
on how to pack light, and travel organized? Absolutely. But I
don’t have time to share – I’m too busy
over-packing and ignoring all my own advice, cramming the car with
absolutely every stupid Ariel doll and crossword puzzle book I can
think of in a desperate effort to stave off the inevitable
meltdown. And the question isn’t IF, but WHEN the meltdown
will occur.


Who has money on Louisiana?


So yes, we’re off for a blissful week at the beach on
Saturday. Which means don’t expect to hear much from me for
the next seven days: I’m too busy soaking up my kids.


And preparing to cram it all back in the car next Saturday to come
home.

I have a standing Wednesday morning pool
play date with a group of neighborhood church friends; last
Wednesday I took Maddie while Cora was in ballet camp, and
yesterday I told Cora I’d take her while Maddie studied Swan
Lake. “Shall we have some just-Mommy-and-Cora time?” I
asked Cora, hoping she wouldn’t miss Maddie at the pool too
much. Cora nodded happily, and we packed up our gear and headed
out, me looking forward to seeing my friends and having a chance to
re-connect.


Cora and I got there early and spent a good half-hour in the pool
all by ourselves. We swam and laughed and giggled and had splashing
contests, having a fantastic time in our own private pool. As our
friends started showing up the pool began to fill, and within
twenty minutes Cora was surrounded by almost a dozen of her church
friends.

Air-conditioning: fixed.


Cat: calmly resting. And no, that's not a euphemism. She's still
here.


Chiggers: Driving me up the $#@#$ wall.


But two out of three ain't bad. And it could be worse: one of my
friends from our Saturday creek walk has chiggers AND poison ivy.


Though as soon as I hear the words "poison ivy" I imagine more
itchy spots sprouting up on me. Lord, deliver me from my itchies.
And thanks for fixing our air-conditioning.

Our house seems to be a converging point
for several occurrences of bad luck these days, and I have to say I
feel like whining a bit.


First off, our cat’s having a tough time. Not Maddie’s
new kitten, but our 16-year-old, as-old-as-our-marriage cat. Her
teeth aren’t doing great, so we made an appointment for her
to go in and get them cleaned under anesthesia yesterday. Because
it’s general anesthesia, she wasn’t allowed any food or
drink the night before, so she spent the evening rather miserable.


And she was more miserable than she otherwise would have been,
because we came home from church Sunday to a stiflingly hot
upstairs. Yes, our upstairs air conditioner decided to go on
strike. On a Sunday. In June. In Texas.

While our side yard has been a veritable
nursery this year, with the caterpillar-cum-butterfly and the dove
nest, our larger neighborhood has caught baby fever as well; for
the past couple of weeks the yard in front of our neighborhood pool
has hosted a duck nest, replete with eggs and an anxious mama.


A few days ago, the eggs hatched, and the neighborhood’s been
a-flutter with kids and parents alike all trying to catch a glimpse
of the two babies. Alas, natural selection prevailed and one of the
babies was eaten by some animal larger than a duck, but so far the
second baby is hale and hearty.


And as of Friday morning, taking a nice swim in our neighborhood
pool.