>Sanity Savers: tips for women to live a balanced life by Dr. Dale Vicky Atkins, is the latest title on the BlogHer Virtual Book Tour. My usual books fall into the categories of escapist fiction, professional reading, and news/current events. Sanity Savers didn’t fit readily into these, but it still caught my attention. When the short preview mentioned the everpresent juggling act, I knew I had to read it.
Sanity Savers is written in a unique format with entries divided into days (five weekday entries plus a weekend) and subject headings that remind me of blog post labels. Readers can approach the book one day or week at a time or search for a particular heading of interest. Subjects include parent, friend, community, well-being, and more.
Most of her advice is concise, rational, and thoughtful. Some entries focus on specific and concrete events (moving with kids) and others are more general or abstract (going through sorrow, creating a peaceful workplace).
Skimming through the headings, I found a few entries on disabilities. Some spoke to the perspective of parenting a disabled child; one offered suggestions for dealing with disabled peers. None, however, spoke to the perspective of being a disabled adult woman. Dr. Atkins deals with so many angles; why not this one? I am a professional (a teacher), a mother, a wife, and hearing impaired. I know I’m not alone as a self-sufficient disabled adult, and I do buy books — lots of books.
Sanity Savers has valuable advice and a positive outlook on life. I hope that Dr. Atkins will consider addressing the lack of disabled and capable adults in future books.
Monthly Archives: April 2007
>April Showers
>The Day After
>The Easter Bunny?
>It’s spring…Maybe
>Outside Temperature: 30 degrees
Precipitation: none falling at the moment, but there are still big patches of white on the ground from this morning’s snow shower.
Outlook: cold
Easter forecast? Tie the bonnet tightly; you’ll need the warmth. Leave the lace gloves at home; you’ll want wool.
Real life forecast? Spring break comes to an end. La Petite goes back to the University tomorrow afternoon. I go back to school on Monday for a staff development day full of meetings and trainings. Amigo’s classes start Tuesday.
These transitions are tougher than they used to be, so I made a conscious effort to have a true mental health break. I made just one trip to school to put up a showcase for Autism Awareness Month. I did not check my school email from home. I just took out my schoolbag today and corrected a stack of papers; I’ll do a few more (stacks) tomorrow. I’ll be ready for Monday and the return of the kids on Tuesday. Hopefully, this gradual return to the world of school will let me slide back into the routine without tension headaches and stomachaches, or at least with fewer side-effects.
We’ve had a good break, Amigo and I. He helped me put up the showcase, take blankets to the laundromat, vacate the house when the cleaning crew came, and bring all three bunnies to the vet for a nail-clipping party. Er, appointment. I look forward to summer when we can Field Trip some more.
But all too soon, it’s back to routine.
I have ten weeks of school left. But who’s counting?
>An open letter to Oprah and her producers
>Dear Oprah and colleagues;
Thank you for making a contribution to Autism Awareness Month by featuring families of autistic children on your show on Thursday. An hour show has only a little time, and yours opened the window on autism for many viewers.
However, I have some concerns.
I am a mother of a teenager with Asperger’s Syndrome, a diagnosis on the high end of the autism spectrum. I am also the cousin of a more severely autistic adult. And I fill yet another role: that of classroom teacher who has taught several students on the spectrum. Based on my life experiences, both personal and professional, I saw some major holes in the production.
- The opening was definitely produced with the goal of tear-jerker rather than presenting facts. Facts and concepts can provide dramatic television while providing the audience with knowledge that leads to comprehension.
- Background knowledge, including your own, seemed to only scratch the surface.
- Guests and experts were primarily from the Chicago area, and therefore the group was limited in scope.
- The show didn’t talk about or feature a range of people on the spectrum.
- Featured guests were parents, not older adults or teens with autism.
As we say in public education, perception is reality. Your show guides perception for many millions of people in the United States. Please consider the points above for future productions. With your opportunities for educating the public, you can expand the perception of autism to include much more reality.
On behalf of many parents, teachers, and people with autism, thank you for your time.
>Breaking up is hard to do
>A Head Start director once distributed posters that said, “Change is our friend.” In smaller letters, it proclaimed, “Posting is mandatory.” Yes, she had a sense of humor. Change was the norm in her realm, and facing it with a smile was one way to handle the many changes that were thrown her way on a daily basis.
Change can be difficult. It’s not always possible to face it with a smile. I am leaving my current job for a different one next fall. I hope it’s for the better. I still have misgivings, but leaving is the right thing to do. I should have done this sooner, but you know about “shoulds”. In leaving my job, I’m leaving some of the best friends and closest professional colleagues I’ve known. Ever.
In spring of 2002, we started graduate school together. We were nicknamed the Fab Five, all five of us from the same school in the same district. We carpooled to classes and got to know each other during the 45 minute drive each way. By the time we finished the intense program in fall of 2003, we were bonded for life.
On our last weekend of classes, the weekend we presented our final projects, we came out of lunch to find the car pool van full of helium balloons. This forced us (kicking and screaming, of course) to take this picture. We’ve displayed it in each of our classrooms ever since.
Last October, mine fell from the wall behind my desk, shattering the glass cover. I cleaned it up, vowed to get a new frame, and secretly fought back the superstitious thought that this might be a bad omen.
Omen or not, I picked up a new position. With the support of my Fab Friends, I will pack up my classroom and move across town come June. Despite our distance, I know they’ll still be there for me.
Amy, whose loving and generous son picked out balloons and wrote us each congratulations cards, even though he was only in second grade.
Sara, she of the best and funniest camping stories, now a survivor first class after her battle with breast cancer.
Julie, the calm and cool one, the one who traded classrooms with me when I couldn’t do stairs after my foot surgery.
Dawn, she of the musical laughter, the most talented teacher I’ve ever met. She truly has the Midas touch.
Oh, yes, and I can’t forget how the banana, wearing Sara’s boa, got strategically hung on Dawn’s door with Julie’s and Amy’s help. If I get too serious, these ladies might just post a banana on my door — or fill my room with deer droppings once again.

>How many candles?
>Silicon Valley Moms Blog celebrates its one year birthday today! So — how many candles? 365 for the days? 1 for one year? 1269 for the number of posts? 3325 for the number of comments they’ve generated? They’ve even attracted the mainstream press to their Blogging world! How many candles does that warrant?
The team members of Silicon Valley Moms live a life quite different from mine. They deal with overpriced housing and wealth; I deal with a neighborhood that my boss calls a “slum” (it isn’t). They deal with earthquakes; I deal with blizzards. They deal with an ever-changing economy based on a technological world; I live in a somewhat blue collar, yet scholarly, area. They chose between cheering for the Raiders, the 49ers, and the other West Coast teams; for me, well, Cheesehead says it all.
But when I read their posts, I realize we speak the same language. Much like moms with strollers will smile at one another anywhere, parents in the blogosphere understand each other. Happy one year anniversary, Moms of Silicon Valley! I lift my coffee cup to you.
>Spring Break reading and rain
>Most of the books I read fall into certain categories: professional books, young adult literature (also a professional task), enrichment, family, and frivolous.
Frivolous is fun. Frivolous is good. It means a book that makes me smile — a book that I’m not obliged to read, but I read just for me. Spring break is a great time for books like this, and Gigi Anders’ Men may come, and men may go, but I’ve still got my Little Pink Raincoat fits the category perfectly.
Priorities. It’s all about priorities. Gigi Anders tells a great story – several, in fact, – connecting fashion with life, specific fashion pieces with the men in her life, the quest for the perfect raincoat with the quest for (you guessed it) the quest for Mr. Right.
The quests made for my favorite parts of the book. Call all over the country for the perfect coat in just the right size? Done that. Dream of the perfect pair of shoes and refuse to go out until they turn up? Done that, too. Covet and eventually buy an overpriced pair of earrings to attract the perfect man? Well, no, I haven’t, but I can totally understand her motivation when she does. Her taste in clothing, accessories, make-up, and more is impeccable. Her taste in men? You’ll have to read the book to find out. Make reading this book a priority – just like that little black dress or the perfect little pink raincoat.
>Mom’s playing in the dirt — already!
>You might be a teacher if:
This view has been bothering me for weeks, but I’ve had no time or energy to work on it until now. The tulips and decorative grasses have been poking out of the thawing soil and reaching for that elusive Wisconsin sunshine, and all the while the remains of last fall’s flowers have been blocking their line of light.
Today, I finally got down on my knees and cut them back.
I don’t know what’s growing there now. Are those new shoots from the old plant? This is a flower La Petite bought and planted last summer, so she knows more about it than I do. I hope I didn’t cut it back too far, but it’s too late now. I guess I’ll find out! But for now, the tulips can come up and enjoy the spring sun.





