Guest Blogger Lisa Pietsch!!!

Task Force 125 continues with A Taste of Liberty!

The Task Force 125 series began with The Path to Freedom.

Sarah Stevens has had a very bad day that led to some major life changes. She transforms from a mild-mannered military cop to a super sexy spy and life takes off from there!

“Look, this mission isn’t like anything you’ve ever done as a Security Specialist. That was flat out defensive and impersonal stuff. What we’re about to do is strictly covert, offensive and very personal. Although you’ve been trained well in tactics and fighting techniques, there is no training for what you’re about to do. You either can or you can’t.”
Phew! Maybe he doesn’t know?
“Look, Vince, I understand your concerns but a roll in the hay to work over a terrorist is nothing compared to the soldiers giving their lives every day in this war. Besides, I’ve been with bastards before, so what’s one more?”
Working over a jerk is just what I need after all those jerks who have worked me over in one way or another all my life. Hell, it might even be fun.
“Only a strong woman can do what you’re about to, and we need to know now if you can handle it or not.”
Sarah stared up into Vince’s eyes and tried to reassure him. “I wouldn’t have come this far if I couldn’t. I can do this, Vince.”
“When you were in the Security Police, it was all black and white. You’re deep in the gray area now and the success of this mission depends on how convincing you can be.”
Sarah fixed her eyes on his. “Vince…I can do it.”
Vince uncrossed his arms and slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “We’re all getting our hands dirty in this war. Nobody on this team is going to judge you, but no matter what, at the end of the day, you have to be able to live with yourself. We can’t put you in there and then have you melt down over a moral dilemma.”
How am I going to convince this guy I can handle this? Once I convince him, the rest of the team will be onboard.
There’s only one way…
Sarah smiled a thoughtful smile.
Sarah locked her gaze onto Vince’s and stood. She took a deep breath and exhaled with a soft sigh. “Oh, Vince.” She couldn’t believe the seductive purr of her own voice as she ran her hands slowly over her hips and down the length of her mini-skirt to straighten the creases that had formed from sitting. Still maintaining eye contact, she took two slow steps toward Vince until she stood about six inches away from him.
“Did I ever thank you for the pearls?” She raised her right hand to her neck, gently caressing the pearl choker from left to right.
“They’re so beautiful,” she whispered as she trailed her fingertips slowly down the edge of the v-neck blouse she wore until they rested on her ample cleavage.
His gaze dropped from hers to follow the path of her fingers to her full breasts as she breathed slowly and deeply, but she continued to stare directly at him. With her left hand, she gently touched his right shoulder and trailed her hand seductively down his muscular arm. Liberated by the charade of playing a part, she drank in his scent, the texture of his skin, the form of his muscular arms.
“Mmm…so strong.”
When she reached his hand, she gently placed it on her left hip, holding it there with her left hand. Her body burned for him and she thrilled at his touch.
His gaze dropped to where she had placed his hand, and he took a deep breath before pulling her close and looking into her eyes once again.
The heat between them was unmistakable to Sarah. She could have him now or make her point. What she wanted to do and what she needed to do would lead to two distinctly different paths in life. The importance of her new job was far greater than the momentary satisfaction a roll in the hay might bring.
She caressed his neck just below his left ear. Her fingertips told her his heartbeat was fast and strong. She skimmed her fingertips along the line of his jaw and down his neck to his shoulder where she rested her hand. Then she whispered, “So hard.”
She pressed against him, closing the space between them. Her body was full against his and she could feel his interest rising, a hard length against her stomach.
The power she had in this situation was better than any buzz she’d ever felt. Every cell in her body was yearning for him but she fought it and stayed in control.
She led his right hand around her waist and then let her left hand creep up his strong, solid chest and around to the back of his neck.
His mouth opened slightly and she knew he was ready to kiss her, so she sighed meaningfully and moved to within a breath of his lips with hers. Dark desire filled his eyes.
Sarah let her own eyes reflect what her body was feeling. Her mind maintained true control.
Vince’s left arm tightened around her waist and held her close while his right hand slowly caressed her hip and began to travel slowly up her waist.
When he moved to kiss her, she very gently moved her head to the side and whispered sensuously in his ear, “I am going to make him an offer no man could refuse, and then, I’m going to rock the bastard’s world.”
It took every ounce of strength she had to step out of Vince’s embrace and pretend it was all an act.
He can never know exactly how much I wanted to finish that!
Sarah allowed herself the luxury of looking Vince over slowly, from head to toe, as though he were dinner and she hadn’t eaten in, well, she’d never eaten a dinner like that.
Her gaze paused at the impressive and telling bulge below his waistline.
Such a shame we have to let that go to waste.
Her body screamed at her own betrayal. He was a sexual electromagnet switched on. Her mind fought to keep control of her body.
Walk out of the room, Sarah.
Walk out of the room, Sarah.
Walk out of the room, Sarah.
When she met his gaze again, she nodded to his apparent arousal. She barely managed to control her urge to pounce.
He couldn’t tell her in any more obvious a way that he wanted her.
She took a deep breath and appeared all business when she spoke. “Sorry about that, but I needed you to understand I can do this. By the look of things, I’d say I have you fairly well convinced.” She straightened her skirt and tossed her hair back over her right shoulder. “Now you guys need to back me up and make sure I don’t get left hanging in the warm Mediterranean breeze.”
Vince smirked and nodded. “Good enough.” His breaths were heavy and fast.
Sarah watched the telling rise and fall of his chest as she remembered what it was like to be held close to him. “Now I’ll leave you with your, uh, thoughts and see you out in the cabin in a few minutes.” Sarah slid her hand behind Vince to reach the doorknob as he stepped aside.

In the second installment of the series, entitled A Taste of Liberty, Sarah Stevens is back and ready to stand up for herself. (Warning: Adult Language)

Sarah walked into her apartment and closed the door. She pulled her phone out of her purse and dialed Vince.

No answer.

Those sons of bitches are going to answer for this.

The more Sarah thought about it, the angrier she became.

Where the hell do they get off scaring my dates away like a couple of big brothers puffing up their chests?

She called Will.

He picked up on the first ring. "Sarah, you okay?"

"I'm pissed. Where's Vince?"

"We left the club about fifteen minutes ago. He was going straight back to his place."

"Great. I'll find him."

"Sa..."

Sarah hung up before he could say anything. She left her apartment, stomped down the hallway and punched the elevator button.

Son of a bitch.

When the elevator didn't show up immediately, she ripped open the stairwell door and ran down the two flights of stairs to Vince's floor.

She banged on his apartment door like a cop ready to bust a drug dealer.

Vince opened the door within seconds wearing a casual smile. "Hey, sweetheart."

A flash of pink silk caught Sarah's eye. She looked past Vince to see a beautiful brunette in pajamas lounging on his sofa.

Rage boiled beneath her skin. Every muscle in her body tensed with anger. She glared at him but he seemed oblivious as he smiled at her.

Mutherfucker!

She didn't try to stop herself as she threw her whole body into a hard punch to his stomach.

Vince wasn't expecting the hit. He braced his hands on the doorframe, bent slightly into himself and stepped back before recovering. His face was red and he looked genuinely surprised when he looked up.

His voice boomed. "What the hell was that for?"

"Don't sweetheart me, you bastard! You get to bring women home whenever you like, but I finally find a nice guy to go out to dinner with and you and your flunky, Will, have to fuck it up?"

He shook his head and grabbed her arm. "Now hold on a minute!"

Sarah cut him off. "No, you hold on!" She shook her arm free of his grip. "Let's get something clear here. We may work together but my off-duty time is mine." Sarah turned without waiting for a response and stormed down the hall. Behind her, she heard Vince's door slam shut.

Son of a bitch!

If you've already read The Path to Freedom and Sarah’s Summer, you might just want to read A Taste of Liberty, now available at Sapphire Blue Publishing.

Visit me online at www.LisaPietsch.com where I give away at least one book per month to a lucky blog subscriber.

funny

Random Quiz I stole from Kerri because it was too terribly hilarious and I wanted a go at it...

1. Have you ever planned global domination by means of giant robots?

No. I am taking over the world right now. My plan involves my fertility. You will see. Three kids, all hyper. Look out. They are almost adults. That is when the plan comes to fruition.

2. If you had a choice what side of “The Force” would you find yourself on?

I would go to the dark side because I read a sticker that said they have cookies.

3. If you were to become an evil criminal what would you call yourself and what would be your crime?

I would be Mama Jabawakie Funky Nugget. Just because it is fun to say. I would be arrested for misuse and overuse and speeding while using the english language.

4. If you were a giant monster, where would you be most likely to attack?

Ireland. It is mostly rolly, not mountain-y so I wouldn't trip.

5. If you could recolor the planet what color would you make the ocean?

Paisley

6. Why are you answering the questions in this survey?

I am too tired to do the really long to do list that is daunting me just now and this is funny. And my nose itches.

7. If you could have your own evil animal minions, what would they be and would they be armed?

Like I said, I have ninja monkeys in my shed. Don't make me release them.

Ants. They never tire and work, work, work. Shut up! I know they aren't animals.

8. If you could picture it in your mind how would the Amazing Ceremony of Milk be performed?

It is a dance and I don't have to imagine it. It is regularly done in bongo with coconuts and naked women... I think.

9. Write a small poem about Pizza.

You can eat it for dinner and breakfast and lunch. It is super easy to munch. Eat with your hands or be a dork and use a fork. How ever you slice, Ittza Nice.

10. Should this survey have multiple choice questions?

Hell no. I like to make stuff up. That is why I am a writer... And a mom. I make stuff up all the time as a mom. And kids believe me. If I don't remember, I make it up. If it wasn't for the Science Channel, they would believe me, too.

11. Your favorite color is…? ( I am leaving Kerri's answer here because it flipping rocked- This is it--->)
a. plaid
b. seven
c. Bright orange
d. Any color on the donut box
true or false?

False. The correct answer is coffee.

12. How many times have you dressed up in a zebra suit?

Never, but I have dressed a character in one and he looked darn sharp. Siren's Song, release date, TBA

13. Name five things you like about llamas

1. They chew gum, but don't have any.
2. They are soft and fluffy but you can eat them... I think. That is why I like gummy bears, too.
3. Ash is scared of them.
4. If you put a dress on them, they would have fan-TAS-tic legs.
5. They talk funny.

14. If you could be any tree in the forest, would you be the one lusting after the tree with the big bushy branches and all the acorns?

No, I would be the tree that was trying to figure out how to walk and scare people.

15. How many analog clocks (the funny ones with the hands) do you have in your home?

none. They tick. They kind of freak me out to be honest.

16. What is the 1st full sentence on the 21st page of the book that is closest to you?

He stood and removed his clothes while Zach climbed onto the bed next to her and lay on his back.- From Once Bitten

17. If you were a superhero, would you have a full face mask or just one of those small jobs that covers the eyes?

I wrote a super hero type character and she doesn't wear a mask... but sometimes she wears a taco.

18. If you stand up and walk two steps forward and then turn to your left and then take a major leap as far as you can forward, where would you be?

At the front door. Are we leaving?

19. Do you see invisible elephants and if you do what color are they?

No. Pssht. Who sees invisible elephants. You can hear them and ride them but no one can SEE them that is why they are called INVISIBLE. Trick questions...

20. Can you remember what you were doing at exactly 1:23pm?

Talking on the phone to some lady who told me she was not JOKING and wishing desperately we had a real coffee machine rather than powder and water...

21. If you were a zombie, how would you cook your brains or would you rather eat them raw and wriggly?

I would not eat brains... I would save them for the dumb zombies. I would.... (sing with me now...) "Take another little piece of" your "Heart now baby... Take it! Take another little piece of my heart, you know you will..."

22. If you could mix any two television shows into one, what two would you mix?

The X-Files and That 70's Show... Imagine aliens in a circle. That would be a funny circle. Zaaaang.

23. When was the last time you pretended to crush somebody’s head with your fingers?

I haven't but I am willing to start now that you have given me the idea. Thanks! Oh, Kiiiids...

24. Do you have lima beans in your pantry?

No pantry, no lima. I am a big take out, eat out, no cook kind of gal. I convince others to cook for me by shoving money or food at them. I love food. I would not want to hurt it. If I did cook it, I know that lima beans are not a food. That was an old wives tale...

25. Would you rather do battle with a cotton candy dragon or a chocolate marshmallow kraken?

Chocolate. Yum. I would eat him out of exsistance (the first portion of that sentence was rather suggestive, now that I think about it...)

26. Can you believe we are already half way through the survey and I haven’t asked any stupid questions about crushes or kissing or cell phones?

Hmm. I like to eat snow. But if it is yellow, I better have sprinkled lemonade on it. Lemonade snow good. Urine... blech. The acid rain does something good for your kidneys, or so I have heard.

27. Would you rather spend time in an elevator with someone who has halitosis or stinky armpits?

I would rather not worry about that. It is thirty seconds of your life. Grow a pair and quit your b&%(&&

28. Do you think frogs need to wait 30 minutes after eating flies, before going into the water.

Yes, or else they'll croak. (okay, that is Kerri's answer too, but it was perfect. Cannot touch that. )

29. Name an insect that you are willing to eat so long as it’s covered in chocolate.

All. Any. I would eat you if we covered you in chocolate.

30. If you had to move tomorrow, what would be the first thing you would pack in Styrofoam?

Ash

31. What is the most bizarre dream that you are willing to share?

Lately, the man with the bloody eyes and shrapnel bone, but if you read my facebook updates or my blog, you know allll about him.

32. What do you think of when you look at polka dots?

Spring and that song starts playing in my head...

33. What color socks are your next door neighbor wearing?

I don't believe my neighbor cares for socks

34. Will you call your neighbor and ask what color socks?

No. Really. I am having phone issues. Got to rub it in?

35. Write a haiku about penguins.

Black and white
Small and bright
What is with the egg thing?

36. Would you rather see Santa Clause battle the Easter Bunny or would you rather witness a major war between leprechauns and tooth fairies?

I think that Santa would kick the Easter Bunny's fluffy tail off... so I am all about the green people and the wingy thingies

37. If you had the choice between a banana or an orange, which would you go into battle with?

Orange. I would eat it and then I would beat them up with my citrus strength.

38. Describe yourself with words from the letter of your name. Example Bob: Brave Ornery Brutish.

Virginia
Voracious Reader
Independent
Really Weird
Gong (I just like to say it. Shut up!)
Invincible
Nice
Incorrigible (my goodness I have a lot of I's in my name... Yeesh)
Ambitious

39. How many scoops of ice-cream do you usually get?

8... WHat?

40. Dunkin Donuts or Krispy Kream?

Starbucks.

41. List all the animals living in your house, and if you don’t have any animals make some up. You can make some up if you have animals but you need to include the real ones too. Please provide animal type and name. Example a cat named Bill.

One cat named Chili... We named him Chili because he is not ours but he comes around and I always have cans of Chili or chinese take out in the fridge to feed him... and chinese takeout was a really long name. So he is Chili. We also have some Sock Monsters. They eat our matched socks. I haven't named them. You can.

42. Name your favorite literary villain of the moment (It can be a movie villain if you are not the reading type.)

Erm. I love villains. I think they are hot and usually get a crush on them. I will go with Phantom. Classic.

43. sculpting with mashed potatoes or building with macaroni noodles?

Everyone knows potatoes hold art better... duh.

44. What is your cereal killer name? (Not to be confused with serial killer.)

Captain Banana Nut Crunch

45. Do you know the name of the person who delivers your mail and have you ever offered this person some cookies?

My landlord brings my mail to my house... I gave him some fancy bread once. I also gave him Smarties. Not cookies. Should I offer him cookies?

46. Name a food you like that nobody else in your family will eat?

Sushi. I dunno why the kids don't like sushi...

47. Do you prefer fried rice or chow mien noodles?

Both. Thanks.

48. Who is you’re cartoon or comic book crush?

Richie Rich. Or Archie. Man I liked Archie.

49. What is your favorite musical?

Phantom... I want to see Green Day tho.

50. Would you answer a survey of 50 questions that really don’t reveal anything of significance about you?

I would have a bit of fun with it, yes.

Justice

Life has a funny idea what fair is. Life does not believe in fair.

Last night I finally managed to go to sleep listening to Ash wheeze in his sleep. I had already taken him to the hospital and gotten the diagnosis of upper respiratory infection. They said it was not in his lungs and he should be fine but I had taken him because Ash has a history of asthma and sounded terrible. Supposedly, everything was fine.

But my mommysenses were in overdrive (mommysenses are like spideysenses, but feel like labor pains...) and they were clanging that we were in red alert.

I dreamed of blood and fragments of bone on a pale face. The blood leaked from the black eyes and down the sunken cheeks. The nose was entirely gone. The fragments of bone looked like someone hit by shrapnel but the shrapnel was his own bone... I knew this somehow. I have no idea how the face came to get these injuries or why he was soaked in red but that he was and that he haunted my sleep. Restless sleep. The kind that you wake up from, repeatedly and blink in the night.

And then, if you have ever been a parent on a vigil you will know what it is like to roll over and lay your hand on a small chest just to feel its comforting warmth. To feel it rise and fall under your hand. You bury your face behind a sweet scented ear and drop a kiss and, if your vigil is like mine, listen to the labored breathing and the sound that you pray is not a death rattle. Because in the dark you are terrified it might be. In the dark, chased by nightmares and with a child's life in your hands, it is easy to fear that one wrong move can make this bright light be snuffed out.

I woke at about six to him crying, or I should say, trying to.

He was making this high, awful, wheezing, "HuuuH!" noise and his lips were blue. His face was white as a sheet. "I can't breathe!" His voice was no more than a whisper between gasping attempts to breathe, but each breath was another, "HuuuH!"

I leaped out of bed and ran and got him a glass of water. I thought maybe it would loosen up the mucus. He drank and sputtered. His lips were so blue. I ran from the room and turned on the older kids lights and told them to dress. That was the last time I saw Justice that morning.

I ran back to see him, tears pouring out of red eyes, "Can't breathe!" he gasped.

Then he threw up the mucus. At least a cup of it. I said out loud, "Oh, good."

I have dealt with pneumonia. I have dealt with asthma. Both of these have taught me that calm is good. Calm makes the inflammation better. Getting rid of the mucus equals good.

When he went right back to the wheezing and horking and his eyes rolled back in his head and then stopped breathing altogether and his knees buckled, I nearly crumbled with him. What was I doing wrong?

If it wasn't pneumonia and he had gotten mucus out, what on earth was wrong? What should I do to fix it? What was happening?

I am not usually torn with indecision. I am pretty decisive. And when it comes to the kids, I thought I knew all I needed to know and they had no curve balls left for me.

Did I call 911? Would they get here in time? They had oxygen on ambulances and he needed oxygen or his lips would not be blue. I could not just sit here and WAIT for a flipping ambulance. If I took him out in the cold night air and he was having and asthma attack, I could kill him.

I was picking up my cell phone and putting it back down this whole time and staring at Ash. It probably was no more than a minute or two but it was hell. What to do? I had no idea what the right answer was. There was no one to ask. No one to scream to for help. They depended on me and I did not know what to do. I wanted to cry.

Then David calmly put a hand on my arm and asked, "Mom, are you okay?"

I remember he was dressed and had to have done it fast. Except for socks. No socks.

He was trying to be man of the house and take care of me. But he was only a very little boy and I was the 'man' of this house.

I said, "David, you go sit on the couch. Do not touch the Wii. You and Justice stay here. I will send someone to help you get off to school. Until then be good."

My mom said when she got to my house, he was still sitting on the couch and Justice was making a bagel. She said, "Do you want eggs with that?" They both said yes and David asked if he was allowed off the couch. My mom thought that odd. I thought it sweet. Also, it was a sign that I must have sounded again like I knew what to do and was going to do it, they just had to listen to me.

Pretended control is often as good as real control.

I scooped Ash up and tossed him in the car. My sanity would not have held long enough to wait for an ambulance. I had to get him there fast.

Away I went, talking on the phone and speeding.

By the time I got on eleven, the horrible, "HuuuH!" suddenly stopped.

With it, my heart abruptly stopped beating.

Oh, he has stopped breathing, I thought.

I sat for a moment, again torn by indecision. Then I hit him.

I have no idea why my first response to dead kid is always hit them, but so far, it brings them back to life. Probably because no one has actually died on me yet.

Ashton screamed, and it ended in choking and wheezing but he was breathing. Then he asked me why I had hit him. He was trying to sleep.

I told him I was making sure he was breathing.

He said, "Well, next time just ask!"

Ever logical, my Ash.

The hospital and later Doc Pirate say it is croup. Apparently, cold night air, moist with dew, is great for croup. It is like the opposite of asthma. You get him wet or cool and it fixes the inflammation.

So my panic fixed it.

He is okay now. My hair is nearly solid gray.

But life again threw me a curve. I find book stuff is not important today. I am drearily tired.

I would give my left kidney for sleep.

Today should, on the Virginia Timeline, be Siren's Song Contract Day.

Instead it is, "Yet another Day on which Ashton almost died and freaked out mommy..."

Siren's Song Contract

So, some of you know I submitted the manuscript for book two of the Odd Stuff series and this was what I offered...

Janie Smith is back and ready to get her life in order for real this time. Having accepted that she is a siren and is going to be munching neurons instead of nachos doesn’t mean things have gotten any easier. She needs to learn to control her powers and for that she enlists the help of the ever mysterious and seductive Chance. He has promised to play nice and accept that Janie is in a relationship with the vampire… so long as she agrees to his ‘game.’

Janie, in the hopes of being one of the ‘good guys,’ also has agreed to a job working for the government to help with any cases that seem to be of a paranormal nature in her backyard. Her first case is to find the Harbor Hammer, a serial killer that has been around for centuries. It’s just her luck that the number one suspect is her boyfriend, Vance. It turns out to be yet another thing that isn’t working out as simply as she had hoped.

On top of all that, Mia, Janie’s best friend, is sick. A sick witch? Spells are flying, chaos has broken out and just when things can’t possibly get any worse, Janie’s mother notices that her daughter has become full siren. She then decides it’s a great time to remind Janie of her arranged fairy marriage.

Nothing is as simple as it seemed to be in this sleepy waterside hamlet… of course it all has something to do with the Siren’s Song.

This was the response from the publisher :

Dear Virginia,

Thank you for your recent submission. SBP would like to offer a contract for the manuscript, Siren’s Song.

*woot*

So, Odd Stuff fans... if you want to continue the misadventures of Janie, Vance, Mia, Sven and the rest of the Odd Stuff gang, come join us soon... I will let you know when Siren's Song will be available!!!!

Adventure Planned... Random Rant

There are days when I realize that life may be my big adventure.

Raising three kids on your own is a pretty big adventure... Something new is always coming up. This week it was determined that Ashton was going to be homeschooled in an online school. He has decided that aside from going to the online school, he is also going to learn to play the recorder.

Since David is currently learning the recorder in school, he was more than willing to bring his lessons home and have a practice buddy and he is teaching him. They were apparently both spurred on by the fact that I can still play a few songs (Mom, do you realize that the song you just played has three notes... they have only taught us two. Teach me the third? Me- David, that was Mary had a Little Lamb... not complex stuff. Dave- Mom, three notes... I could learn it before the class!)

What this resulted in was a lot of squeaks and chirps and me having a headache for a week solid. Between enrolling and arguing with the other school and feeling like a terrible mom I have also had the tune of two budding recorder players as background music...

I am considering pitching a tent and moving to the yard.

They are getting really good and now I got Ashton's guitar as well so now they are playing both instruments. Loudly. I am encouraged that they have a love of music and choose to occupy themselves so creatively. It is not the video games. It is not destructive. It is enough to drive you mad. But you smile.

Because this is the stuff you want to encourage... But it is hard to encourage noise. Even educational noise. The laughter helps. There is something about a childs belly laugh that makes you smile.

Any time, any where, a child doing a full belly laugh makes you smile, I don't care who you are. My youngest cracks me up. All I have to do is laugh and he busts up. If I keep going, he cannot stop. He will laugh till tears are pouring down his cheeks and he says his belly hurts and beg me to stop... just because I am laughing.

I like to think that is love.

Laughter is magic.

I write about paranormal... I live everyday magic.

Adventure planned... Life gets in the way. But it is one hell of a life.

School Daze

I never planned to be in a position with my kids that I fought school districts.

I always pictured, when my kids were small, that school would be the chance for me to bake cupcakes. Chaperone field trips. Things like that.

My kids are clever so I figured occasionally I would hear an accolade or two about that. School was easy for me, so it would be for them as well.

Justice is proof that school is not easy for everyone. Every inch she wins, every tiny bit of knowledge she retains has a battle story behind it.

David struggles with boredom and shutting down if something looks to be a challenge. Either it is easy and it bores him or it is too hard. He is my extremist.

Then there is Ash. I figured having a kid who is ahead would be challenging. I figured keeping him interested would be something that schools would be excited about.

I overestimated public school systems before and I have done it again.

He is yet again suspended. He is yet again too much for them to deal with.

I could tear my hair out. How can he learn appropriate behavior when no one wants him around long enough to do it? How can they say they are capable of handling special needs and suspend him for things like clucking like a chicken and blowing raspberries? He is not even that far out of the box and they are unable to find answers or solutions that will make him fit in their schools.

I am done. So very done.

I will fight the battles that need fought and focus on what I can change.

I can teach him. I can create a support group to educate him when I am at work. I can provide knowledge at his fingertips and a world to discover and grow that sponge of a brain he has and help him reach his potential.

I cannot win against ignorance and refusal to assist.

So I won't try. I will help him without them.

Do what you can, create more help than harm, and return good for evil.

Funny unrelated story. At work yesterday, I went to put the coat on that I borrowed from Dad. I stuck my arm in the sleeve and felt paper. I wondered why I had shoved paper in my sleeve. I pulled it out and realized that there was a coat on the jacket itself as well as the lining.

It was a bank envelope. There was $52 dollars in it. There was also a receipt that read 2004. Apparently, Dad went to the bank and pulled out money. He put it in his inside pocket. Either he or mom decided it was cold and put the lining in his coat. No one had taken the lining off since 04.

I had $52. I called mom and she says she is going through the rest of his coats to see what Dad may have forgotten other than $52. It was pretty funny. I told mom she won the coat lottery.

2004... wow.

Anyway, hope your day involves wearing shining armor and going to battle... Mine will.

Parenthood

There is a new show that premiered this week. It is called Parenthood, like the Steve Martin movie but with a modern spin.

When they said one of the kids have Asperger's and that the directors son has Asperger's, I wondered how they would portray it and if it would be high functioning or flat out Autism. I wondered enough that I set the DVR for it.

Blinking back tears through bits of the episode and smiling for others, I have a new favorite show.

I am a single mother of three kids. My sons are ADD and ADHD respectively. My daughter is high functioning Asperger's. Apparently it is all genetically connected. I know that "researchers have found that many people with autism share common genetic variations(1)." I also know that out of three kids, I am 0 for three.

To say that life in our house is interesting is an understatement. I should have further testing done, as I am not alltogether sure we aren't 2/3 with Asperger's, but honestly treatment for the different disorders isn't all that different, so he isn't missing much without his tag.

I never knew my daughter was different. At least not for years. When she was born she was so perfect that I wept with it. The child was born beautiful, coming out looking as if she had been dipped in water rather than fighting her way out the birth canal. Her tiny cupids bow lips curled into a smile and she was simply lovely.

I remember holding her and stroking her soft cheeks and wanting to pause in that moment forever.

But time went by. She was still lovely but when her brother came along, I began to notice subtle differences. Learning for Jus was a struggle. Ever tiny bit of information was repeated and repeated before she learned it and once she had she would be just as likely to forget it as to remember it later. Ash learned to read through this repetitive teaching... at three he could read some words and write his name just because he had heard it all so much. She would have these strange fits where she would just scream... nothing would stop it till she was done. Not holding her. Not yelling at her. Not anything. I had lots of chances to try different methods. She would just scream for awhile until she got tired then sleep and not remember doing it.

I thought it was frustration because she did not have the words to explain how she felt. It was not. It was Jus. David never did it, nor Ash. Just her.

But I was young and she was my first so I didn't know how odd it was. She tried to eat paper or toilet paper. Erasers were chew toys. Leave her alone for a minute and her school work did not get done but she would write on a wall... at eleven.

I was at a loss. And she hated meeting your eyes. It is very disconcerting when you realize your child does not like to look you in the eye. I remember turning her chin back to me and she would look anywhere but at me.

You wonder, as a parent, what you are doing wrong.

You cry and pray and scream at God. She is so perfect! Help me help her!

Silence greets you. Silence and the sound of your kid talking to the water in the shower.

Shaking hands that never quite settle.

A child who goes off into a world where you cannot touch her.

I fought all this with normalcy. I refused to let her use her disability for a crutch and I exposed her to life at every chance. Justice has been to Disney and Canada and she does not usually do change well... but she is better at it now than she was. She trusts me to not take her "bad" places.

I also know not to get her dolls or stuffed toys... because they watch you and you can't sleep like that.

I have something new every day with her.

And the boys? ADD is not altogether bad. David can spend hours turning boxes into spaceships for one or creatures. He can fold a bubblegum wrapper in a way that makes a tiny man.

(Zombie, mom. Not a man)

He writes this brilliant comic book, Doom Dream, with a cast of characters he created...

But he writes them on his school work and his teachers are not sure what to do with him. But he is my social butterfly. He makes friends whereever he goes. People flock to David.

Ashton is a picture of frustration. He is an amazing reader, mathematically clever and if you give the child a computer he can do things that he should not have figured out till he is sixteen. He was the kid at seven that had to have a chat about identity theft and not hacking mommy's passwords.

He can read tenth grade level books and is fascinated just now with Greek Mythos and can discuss modern art vs expressionism as well as the fact that there is a supermassive black hole at the center of every galaxy.

But friends... Ash has a hard time with friends. And school... he is a train wreck at school. He just does not feel he has to listen to anyone. He knows what he wants to do and he does it. When asked why, he states he wants people to like him but he can't help it.

But I would not trade them for the world. Other peoples daughters don't stand and look at a bug for an hour, just watching it being a bug. Until you sit down and watch the bug and realize it really is interesting.

Other people don't have son's that at ten are torn between becoming a comic book artist and an archaeologist. Other people don't have the joy of reading the next misadventure of Doom Dream and see where the portal has taken him today.

Other people cannot sit with their eight year old on the hood of a station wagon at 2am watching a meteor shower and discussing the peril of the world and the speeds of the meteors. Other people don't go to a library with their eight year old and explain that yes, he can read the Greek Myths and we just talked about them at dinner... Why? Don't your kids?

And yes, they have mature content, but he gets it. Am I supposed to hide books from them?

I cried during that show because it is real. Really hard and really wonderful. When the little boy was looking at his reflection and not happy with it because he was probably wanting to be normal and wasn't and he kept jumping on the puddle to smash his own reflection... in a plaground full of toys and fascinated with destroying that reflection, I cried.

Because I got it. I live it.

I do it alone. It is easier that way. They have me and I am all they know. But there are times, times when I am alone and feeling particularly small and useless to them... times usually around parent teacher conferences when I realize what a whomping failure I am as a parent, when I doubt my ability to be up to it. When I wish there was someone who understood to hold me and wave a magic wand over them and make their lives easier.

But then David brings me his latest cardboard robot. And Justice shows me her latest art work, which is all about boys, and rolls her big blue eyes at me. (She is still lovely) And Ashton, who fears nothing, sees the sun go down and remembers that no matter how big and bad he is, he is only a very little boy and afraid of the dark, so he comes and curls up with his mom... to be safe.

And I realize that the school can't make me feel bad. The world cannot judge us. It is just me judging and feeling bad. I am doing fine because they are happy. And strong. And amazing and unique.

And I am blessed.

I must have done something very right to be triple blessed with kids who dare to be different every day. Who believe in magic and bring it home to me everyday.

Thank you, Brat Pack. Mom loves you.

Sweet Dreams, all.


1. source http://articles.latimes.com/2009/apr/29/nation/na-autism29