I am different, not less.

~Temple Grandin

One of Perry’s therapists, Jen, told me about this woman and the movie about her.  She is brilliant.  She revolutionized the cattle industry.  She is an author.  She is a public speaker.  She is autistic.

Jen and I were discussing how autistic individuals report visually seeing things differently than we do.  Temple describes this for herself and in the movie, about her life, they have altered the camera to try to mimic how she sees things.  Although Perry can not yet tell us how he sees things, I observe many behaviors that indicate that he has some altered perceptions.  For instance, he likes to watch things while upside down on his head.  He stares into lights.  He watches things out of his periphery.  These aren’t just 1 or 2 instances of him doing this.  These are things he does consistently, over and over again.

I have watched interviews with the real Temple Grandin.  Immediately, I could see Perry.  He has moments of genius when I play with him.  I mean truly bright beyond I have seen in any of my children.  Yet, he is unable to communicate most of these thoughts, abilities, and ideas to us.  Temple was very similar, unable to speak until age 4.  She had to be taught how to communicate and how to interact in order for her life to be as productive as it has been.

That’s what my job has been and will be for Perry.  It is different than how I have raised my other boys.  However, as in the words of her own mother, who fought to teach Temple instead of institutionalizing her, “Different, but not less.”  Temple now describes this about herself.  What a wonderful self belief.  I am always telling my boys that being the same is BOR-ing.  I encourage them to be who they are, even if that looks different because that’s what makes the world so beautifully diverse.  At least that aspect of parenting will be no different with Perry.

It’s Not All Sunshine and Flowers

Green and White
Rosy Railing

Lest anyone think when they read these stories, quips, vignettes of our life that everything is sunshine and beautifully potted flowers, I assure you it is not.

Last week: Brodie got in trouble for sticking up his middle finger, Cale refused to leave the classroom, Marley informed me of my “suckiness”, and Perry severely startled (via screaming) some poor woman at the co-op shortening her already fragile life by another day.

This week: Perry was officially enrolled in our school district’s special education program, Cale wrote “butt” on his teacher’s poster resulting in a conversation with the principal, Marley debated at length about how unfair and unjust life in our house is, and Brodie engaged in janitorial training by cleaning the cafeteria after his food fight during lunch.

Sunshine, flowers, rainbows, unicorns, and sparkling stars must only be in households where girls live. Can’t wait to see what next week brings, especially now that summer will be here.  I have already found penis scrawled on my post-it pad and caught Brodie itching his face with his middle finger mid-argument with me. It may not be sunshine and flowers, but it definitely will be hot and colorful.

Rows of Pretty Flowers
Old Wheelbarrow
Flutter Flutter Butterfly

O – bsessed

I have an obsession.

Oiselle clothing.
A women’s running clothing company. Run by a badass woman, supported by other kick ass women, and sponsoring some pretty fabulous women runners.

I found them about four years ago in the search for some running tees. I fell in love with their spark and humor.  When I got the t-shirts I also realized they had the most comfortable materials and fit. It sealed the deal that they were bird lovers.  I have collected quite a number of their tees since then…


This isn’t even all of the tees.  I know I had 1 in my running bag, 2 in the washer, and several where the Oiselle label and bird had been worn to the point of extinction.

From the tees I moved onto the shorts, pants, tights, jackets, sweats, arm warmers, necklace, shoe tags, bras… Oh, the bras.  How could I have almost forgot those?  They are my go to.  But all of it is my go to.  It just fits.

I am waiting for the hold on me to wane, like Athleta and Lululemon did before finding Oiselle.  Matt is desperately waiting for this day.  But my draw to them has only grown stronger.  I live in workout wear now that I do so many doubles.  Oiselle makes me look like I am not living in workout wear.  Plus, they stand for strong women.  They sponsor professionals like Lauren Fleshman, Kate Grace, and Kara Goucher.  They also sponsor the everyday runner.  The runner like me.  I applied to their team a few years back, but I was a baby in the running community.  Even now their popularity has grown so much that I wouldn’t be a blip on their radar.  But it doesn’t matter.  I love what the stand for and the product they produce.

I never thought I would be one of those athletes all decked out in one brand, but I can’t help it.  When I want to just feel the run (and not the clothing), I pick out Oiselle stuff.  When I want to look cute for an appointment before heading into a run, I pick out Oiselle stuff.  When I get done with a run and I want comfortable clothes that fit my athletic build, I pick out Oiselle stuff.

Now they have a flagship store opening in Seattle.  Thank god Seattle is a 8 hour drive from Boise.

Mother Fucker


Brodie came out of school and proceeded to tell me that he had an interesting day.

Me: Why?
B: Well, Grayson was in the bathroom and I walked in. Then I looked at him and he looked at me. Then he called me a Mother Fucker.
Me: WHOA! Let’s not say that. But why did he call you that?
B: I have no idea.

Okay, I have to admit Matt and I are pretty open with the boys about this shit. They know they can ask us about curse words. I have so far explained, bitch, dick, bastard, slut, whore, and the multiple uses of pussy. They know they can’t cuss, but they are free to ask what something is or tell us a story about their friends use of explicit profanity. I know as they get older and they start to use the words in their every day lives it is the natural progression of growing up. It doesn’t bother me.

While hearing Brodie say “Mother Fucker” in all it’s glory was a day maker all by itself, the true highlight was what Marley did. Without missing a beat, Marley marched right back into the playground and up to Grayson. He told him he “did not approve” (yes, his exact words) of him calling his brother a mother fucker. Maybe he just wanted to say mother fucker. They all were having free reign with it all day to talk about the story.

I don’t think that was it.

Marley has always been the protector. He doesn’t let bullying go down, especially when it involves his brother. Actually, all my boys are that way. Sure they have the same struggles as anyone when it comes to standing up to their friends. However, when their brother is in the line of fire, they don’t take no shit from any mother fucker.