tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84398051939636739012024-03-18T20:39:45.631-07:00Team ShimmyThe chronicle of a family thriving in the middle of a nightmare. You'll laugh a lot more than you expect. Promise.The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.comBlogger500125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-31080756740538999832023-11-19T13:56:00.000-08:002023-11-19T13:56:56.519-08:00Untitled (written 8/30/2008)<p> <span style="text-decoration-line: underline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Untitled</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Death is sleeping gently
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Outside the window
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Holding vigil with us
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">As the baby tosses and turns
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Tangled up in fate
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Some mornings rays shine in clean and clear
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Other mornings the light dims
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Mottled and blurred by nose prints
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Left from her watchfulness
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">She sits patiently
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Holding her post
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">As threads
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Wind and weave
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">When they pull apart
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Like spider webs brushed by a shoulder
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">She opens her old, strong arms
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">To catch and soothe the spirits as they
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Stumble
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Lost without a body
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Some mornings
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">I nod to her and carry on about my business
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Other mornings
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">I press my face to the window
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Peer out
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Eyes squinting
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">With equal parts
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Malice and gratitude
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">If his ties begin to bind and cut
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Torturing
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">I will rap on the window
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Call to her and
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Nod
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">I hope that day will never come
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">But now I know her
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">I felt her fingers on my shoulder that night
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">And was oddly comforted to know
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">We are not alone</span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-4769679572744714362023-11-19T13:55:00.001-08:002023-11-19T13:55:56.837-08:00Parchment (Written 3/14/22)<p> <span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Parchment</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Yesterday a “guess your age app” pegged me at 61.
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">I’m 44.
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">I felt a brief, familiar cloud
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Pass across my spirit
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">The mist of misogyny
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Spritzing
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">As it does
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">And just behind the cumulus
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Was the voice of a thousand crones
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Reminding me that faces
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Are nothing more than parchment
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">On which stories etch themselves
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">10,000 moments of joy
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Have creased my eyes
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Nearly to my hairline
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Deepened the dreaded
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">“Parentheses”
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Into a double rainbow
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">A warning of my easy laugh
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">The ripples across my forehead
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Reflect years of expressive listening
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Of goofing and performing
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Silly and glittering on a burlesque stage
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">My freckles tell tales of
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Summer camps and Hawaiian vacations
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Of my Welsh blood
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Striving to belong in sunny California
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">The furrows between my eyes
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Document the sleepless hours
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Spent in an ICU
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">And years watching the rise and fall of my son’s chest
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Afterwards
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">The thought has crossed my mind
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">To fill, to freeze, to stretch
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">To wipe clean the slate
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">But the crone call is louder
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Reminding me
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Age is a luxury
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">An honor
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">A gift
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">And my face a badge
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">To be worn proudly
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">And so I will laugh and frown and twist my face into pretzels for a laugh
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">I will let the call of life
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Drown out the siren
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Warning of my impending obsolescence
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Because I know the truth
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">My face reflects my heart
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">My trials and my roots
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">This punim is a gift to the world
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Just as it is
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">- Jaime Jenett (c) 2020</span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-64564380678995041302023-11-19T13:55:00.000-08:002023-11-19T13:55:20.801-08:00Relentless (written 4/20/21)<p> <span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Written last night after hearing of the murder of Ma’Khia Bryant by police- it happened within minutes of the Chauvin verdict being announced. </span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"> Relentless
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">This country’s appetite
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">For bent
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">broken
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">bleeding
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">pleading
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Black and Brown bodies
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Is relentless
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Pearly hard enamel
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Riot shields
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Tyvek vests
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Immunity
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Hiding rot
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Shielding
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Broken boys and girls
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">In suits and boots
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Who were lied to
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Told they inherited the earth
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">And given guns and gavels
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">To stand their ground
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Sharp picks
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">In the aftermath
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">digging deep
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Into tender places
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Drawing blood and little mercy
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">And rarely a just verdict
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Arms up
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">In surrender
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">In protest
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">In prayer
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">To just make it fucking stop
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">For one day.
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">And then another.
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">And another.
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Until the legacy
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Of our country
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Resisting
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Fighting
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Beating back
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">White supremacy
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Is as long and proud and statued
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">As the wicked, bloody one
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">We’ve paid tribute to
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">For far too long.
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">-Jaime Jenett
</span></p><p><span data-tt="{"paragraphStyle":{"alignment":4,"writingDirection":1}}" style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">4/20/21</span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-75100296741723192632020-12-31T16:50:00.007-08:002020-12-31T20:35:16.663-08:00Simon's Funnies 2020<p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1mo3MIOkeox0OVSlrauQeyV0_h-QqVEVPU6ZGsiHvYxE_oUNKVFCA9YXR9z7Sd6NOthIZ39xB4lm6Jq8Wpj5jcaaya9PluRAaETxzRYV27BuwvYmujOOriHaDqanvGQgx4zbBMbKxnblk/s4032/IMG_6511.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1mo3MIOkeox0OVSlrauQeyV0_h-QqVEVPU6ZGsiHvYxE_oUNKVFCA9YXR9z7Sd6NOthIZ39xB4lm6Jq8Wpj5jcaaya9PluRAaETxzRYV27BuwvYmujOOriHaDqanvGQgx4zbBMbKxnblk/s320/IMG_6511.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></p><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Simon: Jesus said to drink three beers in the </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">morning</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; white-space: pre-wrap;">Me: Why?</span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-8c894569-7fff-784f-afdf-eedfbc1ef33f"><p style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: To keep your health up.</span></span></p><p style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">--------------</span></span></p><p style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon walked into the room holding a full pint of ice cream and asked, </span></span><span style="font-family: arial; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Can I eat it from the container? It’s called emot</span><span style="font-family: arial; white-space: pre-wrap;">ional eating”.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">-------------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Substitute paraprofessional for Simon this morning. Showed up late and I had to just throw her in with very little info about him. She just got introduced to his imaginary friend “Captain Torture”. This might not be the day she expected.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">-------------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: Can you go get me something to eat?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: Sure, what are you going to give me for doing that for you?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: Uh, money?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: No. How about a compliment</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: Uh, you’re really good at staying in Zoom meetings?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Me: </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="border: none; display: inline-block; height: 16px; overflow: hidden; width: 16px;"><img alt="🤣" height="16" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/lq4WAfGCc8qOjpGZwe4VgoB7ecS0nBauUJZk4hZDgcik2MefbNDDZINXWXeObPqBBMQmprr_g9Z6xC466vd50uxFVJa4BTZU0hjfg5IwiUqMwyHlLzF_lsfdiLx9qfj40OlHqTCh" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" width="16" /></span></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">----------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Simon HATES compliments and is quite...goth. This resulted in my statement “</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">you’re the best </span></span><span style="font-family: arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">baby we could have gotten” getting edited to an acceptable “</span><span style="font-family: arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">you’re the best</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">demon baby we could have gotten from Hell”. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Parenting is FULL of me saying things I never could have imagined.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">-----------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: I want a new pet. I’m looking for an animal that has human teeth. Like a fish.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: Okay, that’s a week’s worth of nightmares.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">------------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">New joke from Simon:</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">What do you say at the end of Sukkot?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">So long sukkahs!</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">------------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This is how it’s going at my house:</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: What do you want for lunch?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: *angrily*. Blood.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: Huh. Ok. How would you like your blood?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: Poisoned</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">ETA: Landed on Matzo/charoset/bacon sandwich. Some poor rabbi somewhere just felt a stabbing pain in their heart.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">----------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon lost a tooth yesterday (3rd in a week!)</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This morning he pulled back his pillow, picked up the dollar and matter of factly proclaimed, “Satan”. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Only my kid could make a visit from the tooth fairy goth.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">-----------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: Have you ever heard of edible Bandaids?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: *heave*</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: Ew. No.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">--------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Lying in bed with Simon</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He starts pretending like I’m a puppy.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">After a few minutes of playing, he puts his hand on my forehead.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: I’m checking your temperature</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: Oh, do I have a fever?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: No. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: *matter of factly* You don’t have to get put down.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: Oh! That’s great news</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Me: </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="border: none; display: inline-block; height: 16px; overflow: hidden; width: 16px;"><img alt="😬" height="16" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/tgZfyNlYOsKKXtRAo1eIZzfTjp6lT01K-471eSJlFurfjebhrFPjLB4i2NPlPw-QDkX9FHXqX2ONqC2ekjBKcHulxNGqSvDDrI_mUlec-Fs2uXDXXaqjACWBQ19UlVbTSFSJlrKB" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" width="16" /></span></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; white-space: pre-wrap;">--------</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: Ok, I’m going to go start working in the other room.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: Can’t you do it out here?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: No but you can come in here with me</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: No! You out here. The power of God compels you!</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">-----------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: Did you know the Corona virus is my Dad? When I vaccinated I’ll be able to talk to God!</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">------------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Kid is on brand as always.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Laura: Your friend Ardalon dedicated the first night of Hanukkah to kindness. Do you want to dedicate it to anything?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: The Fires of Hell.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">-------------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon is in his room playing with his respite worker.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A car alarm goes off outside.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A few seconds later I hear Simon yell “YOU ARE INTERRUPTING MY RESPITE!” </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="border: none; display: inline-block; height: 16px; overflow: hidden; width: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="😂" height="16" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/7OZdqm7ObRkWY3DkeFGtJ8ElVLgMXZzbRLb1O1ye8-842XYO51zNzK2Kk9BNeASlsIGNa6C4new4pP-KTAD51I7Yb80VVH7jbiYKICsxVKogwW3Ph9C0voXjRhUNkHFmrcnIizMp" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" width="16" /></span></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">----------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: Xena and The Mandalorian would make a bad ass couple.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: Language! Also, totally.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">---------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.59996; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: There’s a crucifix</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.59996; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: Do you know what a crucifix is?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.59996; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: No</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.59996; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: so you’ve heard of Jesus, right? He was a real man who got killed by being hung up on a cross until he died. Pretty brutal.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.59996; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: So he died?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.59996; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: Yes. Christians believe he came back to life 3 days later</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.59996; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: Like a zombie?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.59996; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: *can’t stop laughing long enough to get an answer out*</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.59996; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: *catching my breath*</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.59996; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: Not exactly...but kind of.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">-----------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“I’m Dreadie Mercury. His weakness is taking the wrong medication”. - Simon with his typical creepy punny charm.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">-----------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“My Freak Flag is made of hot lava”- Simon</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial; white-space: pre-wrap;">----------</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon has coined the official word of the pandemic.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“Fearstration”</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Is there a more perfect word to describe our current moment? I think not.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">---------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Teacher: At the end of class, we’re going to do some voting for class elections</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: I’m going to run for “Crime Boss”.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">-----------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: *eating breakfast I cooked for him*</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: I wish I had rations</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: What? What does rations mean to you?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: Canned food. Like in Kong: Skull Island</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: *I am NOT going to take this as commentary on my cooking*</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">---------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Context: Simon has taken to saying his name is Satan, as he includes him in his pantheon of villains he likes to identify with when he’s angry, frustrated or even just playing around.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This literally just happened. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: *speaking rudely to me*</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: Do you ever get what you want when you talk to me like that?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: *angrily* YES</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: Not today Satan!</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It just kind of slipped out. Don’t judge.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">-----------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">OMG. Just overheard on Simon’s morning social group check in.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Teacher: How are you feeling this morning?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: Furry</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Student 1: Fluffy</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Student 2: Hey [teacher], have you ever heard of Furry culture?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Teacher: No, should I go look it up?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: *in my head* Oh, Teach, you sweet fella. Definitely do NOT look that up on a shared screen.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">--------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Roughhousing with Simon in his bed this morning.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: Will you body slam me?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: *body slams him WWF style*</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: *hysterical laughter muffled by my full weight on him*</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: I think you broke my sensory.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">----------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Me: *on phone*</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Simon: Shut it off! King George said no electronics!</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">---------</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“My IPad isn’t working. Must be the Coronavirus.”- Simon</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">-----</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">"I'm not a consequence kind of guy. I'm more of a trickster sort of kid. "</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">- Simon</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Truer words were never spoken.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><div><br /></div></span><div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-50646921256279828702019-12-31T05:14:00.002-08:002019-12-31T05:14:31.654-08:00Simon’s 2019 Funnies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Went to Kol Nidre services tonight. Simon was NOT having it and was in a super foul mood. Suddenly at one point he stopped grumping and this happened:</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon: "I just got a message from God!"</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Me: "Uh, wow! What is it?"</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon: "He said to chill. He said to take a chill pill."</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">From God's mouth to your ears, child.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">--------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon was joking around and used the phrase “psychologically stinky”. I started to tell him that didn’t make sense and then realized it was genius. Don’t we all know someone who is psychologically stinky?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon: Can we purchase this?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Me: Nope. We're not purchasing today.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon: Maybe I should s-h-o-p-l-i-f-t?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Me: Great spelling but, NOPE.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">This morning, as I was cuddling in bed with Simon:</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Me: Okay, I'm going to go stretch.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon: You better go stretch...till you retch</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon: Do you know what TV show I'd be on?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Us: No, what show?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon: Psycho Junior</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">"I am 100% that squirrel."- Simon</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Motek did the unthinkable tonight on his walk and ate a lot of gross brown stuff that shall remain unnamed. He just walked by us, still smelling a little funky, and Simon yelled out "Face Sewer!"</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">And, just like that, a new insult entered my lexicon.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon’s go-to bedtime listening is YouTube “Funny Talking Animals” videos. Also, lately anytime anyone swears, or says a word that includes a swear word (like “ASSign”), he puts them on the “Naughty List”. Last night as he and I were laying in bed to go to sleep, I kept saying all the alternatives to swear words and then finally said the “naughty” one and he’d bust me and put me on the Naughty List. It’s finally time to fall asleep and Simon says, “Mama, can you play Fucking Talking Animals?”, gasps because he didn’t actually mean to swear, bursts into hysterical laughter and promptly puts himself on the naughty list.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon's newest villian is Hurt Copain</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Fishing in the middle of the lake and boat is really rocking from the wind.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon: "Who is rocking the boat?"</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Me: *in a booming voice* "The hand of God!"</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon: "Which God?"</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Polytheism for the win!</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">My child wants to sleep with a packet of relish. In addition to a dagger. No on the relish. What kind of a house does he think this is?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Watching The Wizard of Oz.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Wicked Witch melts into a puddle.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon shouts out "Bye Felicia!"</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Other parents might be a bit...put off...by their child insisting on sleeping with both a metal sword AND a dagger in their bed, but if you're in the middle of listening to Game of Thrones, this just seems like a good idea.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Yesterday Simon had a cooking class through an org called Coachart, for kids with special needs/medical challenges. They were making handmade pasta and as Simon was working with the dough, he turned and said, “Hey, I’m ‘special kneading!’”</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">We have to get this boy a mic and a stage. Stand up is a real job, right?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">"You know what they call me? Little Dead Riding Hood".</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">The goth is strong in this one.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon love to schmork two words together to create a new word that captures both. He just got home from camp tonight and Laura asked if he took a bath/shower while he was gone. The answer was no. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Laura: Are you camp stinky?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon: Kinky?!</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Us:</span><span class="s2" style="font-family: ".AppleColorEmojiUI"; font-size: 17pt;">😳🤐😂</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon just came back from a weekend away a camp. He's being mean to us because he misses camp. We talked about working on re-entry from camp since he's going away again next weekend. Simon replied, "The only kind of entry I do is a DRAMATIC entry".</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">If you want to know what kind of Jews we are: our son just asked for a Matzo sandwich...with bacon jam</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon has been extra surly this week. He was just on a monologue about how if he had super powers he’d use it for killing.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Me: You’ve sure been in a dark space this week.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon: *scowling*</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon: Don’t give me any compliments!</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon’s current perseveration is the substitution of “bleep” into the middle of almost any sentence to make it sound like he’s swearing. It’s mostly annoying. Sometimes it’s freaking hilarious. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>This just happened:</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">*Me trying to convince Laura that I have a few ringlets. (Laura has some SUPER curly-haired ex’s)*</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Laura to me: You forget who I’ve been with. Who I’ve dated.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon: Who you’ve “bleeped”!</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">What terrible people have been raising this child!?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Laura and Simon watching cartoons.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon farts.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon: That just came from my Animaniass!</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">#parentingwin</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">New jokes, inspired by Looney Tunes playing in the background.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">What did Bugs Bunny say to the Olympian?</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">What’s up, Jock?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">What did Bugs Bunny say to Captain Hook’s mortal enemy?</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">What’s up, Croc?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon just gave Laura Fitch the superhero name of "Gay Blade".</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Me: Simon, look at that pile of CDs on the sidewalk. Do you want any?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon: What's a CD?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Me: Hah! You're funny. What do you mean what's a CD? Wait…Oh my God.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon used the phrase "waxie the cracksie" this morning when our friend mentioned a spa while talking on Facetime.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Where the hell is this kid hanging out when he's not with us?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Cuz it sounds fun.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Our Oakland Brony as heard this morning:</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">"I'll knock the Gucci out of Everypony"</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Child of lesbians:</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">"Where did Motek [our dog] live before he was with us? Who was his donor?"</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">———————————————-</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon's newest catch phrase used ad nauseum is "I'm so over it/that". Been making me nuts until last night when someone mentioned the Mango Menace on TV and Simon immediately declared "I'm SO over Donald Trump".</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Amen, little man. Join the club.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">New joke.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Punchline created by Simon, inspired by Animaniacs.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">What do you call a shrink who can’t help you with your problems?</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">A suck-chiatrist.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">New joke</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 20.3px;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">What's the official fruit of the Red Cross?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Blood orange</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">New joke.<br />Crafted from Simon’s wordschmork.<br /><br />What’s a nerd’s favorite kind of candy?<br />Dork chocolate.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">We just watched Zorro. He's still on horror movie villians. So, naturally...</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">"The Mighty Horro".</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">I'm sure there is an adult film out there with the same title and slightly different spelling...</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Where did homicidal maniacs play as children?</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">A slayground</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">(Credit to Simon for joking around during his spelling homework and coming up with the word “slayground”)</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">----------------------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">As per Simon’s Hebrew school aide. (They were doing a lesson about gender today)</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Aide: Simon, you can move onto the next activity but before you do, I want you to tell me one thing you want to get rid of about gender.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon: *looking them dead in the face*</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon: There is no gender.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Aide: Alright then. Our work here is done.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">------------------------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">New joke inspired by Simon<br />Who do ghosts see about their crooked teeth?<br />An orthohauntist</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">——————————————</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Simon's insult of the week, inexplicably, is "Coal Miner".</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">Perhaps it’s the economic equivalent of "OK, Boomer"?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;">———————————————</span></div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-5594591643445098562019-04-14T08:00:00.002-07:002019-05-03T14:37:24.429-07:00Anniversary of Liberation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Display"; font-size: 21px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 3px;">
<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Laura and I do a lot of marking of anniversaries in our family; when we started dating, when we got married, when we got married legally, when Simon was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy, our dog’s birthday, etc. Today is one of the most joyful for me because it marks one of the hardest and most healing decisions I’ve ever made. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Two years ago today, I faced my deep, paralyzing fear and decided to finally try an anti-depressant. This decision change my life in a way that is as profound as marrying Laura and becoming a parent. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I don’t think anyone had any inkling of how much I had been suffering, particularly with anxiety. My wife, with whom I share EVERYTHING, didn’t even know. I wasn’t trying to hide it. I didn’t even think to talk about it because it was just the relentless background noise that I lived with my whole life. In the year before I started meds, I started to casually mention some of the crazy anxious ticker tape that constantly ran through my head to Laura and I was shocked by how much she was shocked. I was like a frog in a pot that didn’t know I was being boiled alive by my brain. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">In the year before I started meds, the wheels started to fall off. I found myself overwhelmingly depressed about my anxiety and anxious about my depression. I moved past exhausted and annoyed to scared. Really scared. I don’t know how much it showed because I had spent my whole life functioning on top of it, but it was not good. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I got a prescription for meds, filled the prescription and promptly let the bottle sit in our medicine cabinet for 6 months. I’d look at it longingly on bad days but pushed myself to handle the feelings myself. Breaking down and taking meds felt like giving up. Like admitting I wasn’t strong enough to handle my shit. It was exhausting. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I finally got to a point where I thought “whatever I fear about meds can’t be worse than how I feel”. That point is called desperation. It was a back-up-against-a-wall, little-kid-cowering-in-a-corner-to-avoid-a-shot kind of decision. And I made it. I cried with relief that the decision was made- it was done.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Literally the next day it was like someone turned on the lights. There were colors and birds chirping and a PROFOUND feeling of calm. I thought it must be a placebo effect because I had always heard that it takes weeks to get up to an effect on SSRI’s but they started me on Zoloft which can work immediately for some folks. That was me. By brain gobbled those meds like Pac Man. It was complete and total magic. I know that is not everyone’s experience, by far, but glory hallelujah it’s been mine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I still feel blue sometimes and I still feel anxious, but it’s PASSING. It doesn’t live here. I’ll go through one crazy “what if” catastrophic scenario and then it’s done. And I laugh and go “ha ha, Brain! I saw that”. And go on about my life. I don’t have to use all my energy to wrestle the alligator of my brain that relentlessly wants to drag me into the swamp. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">At least once a week now a situation presents itself where I’m almost brought to tears because I realize how much of an impact it has on my life not to be disabled by anxiety and depression. I really was disabled. It kept me from doing things I otherwise would have tried and wore me down to dust. Just as someone with a hearing impairment may use hearing aids to fully participate in the world, or someone missing a limb may use a prothetic limb, I’ve gotten totally clear that my brain needed an SSRI. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I feel ZERO shame about it. Shame and fear is what kept me suffering for decades. I’m still mourning all that time and energy and attention lost to trying to tune out the 10 piece marching band of anxiety playing 24/7 behind me. I mourn the years I was unable to FEEL the bounty and beauty of my life, even when I could see it clearly with my eyes. My heart couldn’t. My brain didn’t have what it needed to transmit the message to my core.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">On this glorious day, I am so grateful for my sense of self preservation that overrode the mean, judgmental, terrified lady in my head. On that day, I picked ME. I picked life. I picked a healing path that has led me to have two of the best years of my life. And I made a decision to TALK ABOUT my decision because fear and shame thrive in the dark. I was inspired to make my decision by friends who were open about their struggles and what trying meds meant for them. Their honesty made it possible for me to make one of the most healing decisions of my life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Depression and anxiety are at almost epidemic proportions right now. For some of us it’s biochemical, for others it's environmental, and for lots of us it may be both. Meds are not for everyone, for sure. There are lots of other things to help with anxiety and depression and for some people that’s enough. Yea for you! Sincerely! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">But, I tried all those and found myself exhausted from all the fruitless “self-care” I was doing. It left me feeling like a failure, like I just wasn’t self-caring well enough. Part of why I’m so public about my path is because I want to destigmatize medication as an option. To me, it felt like a cop out or a failure or like I was some rube suckered by pharmaceutical companies that just wanted to make millions off my weakness. But it turns out, it was exactly what I needed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I’m grateful for Kaiser Permanente for their very effective mental health screenings that flagged that it was time for me to make a hard decision. I’m grateful for all the people in my life who have been honest about their mental health journeys, including their experience with meds. I’m grateful for my family who has loved and supported me and helped give me a life that I could objectively tell was great even when my heart couldn’t feel it. And I’m especially grateful for my wife who created a container where I could share the scariest stuff without feeling judged and who encouraged me to make the most healing choices possible. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I’m grateful for life, ya’ll! I couldn’t say that two years ago but I can say it today with all the honesty and meaning and heart I have to give.</span></div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-2614531421052645082019-02-13T11:01:00.000-08:002019-02-13T11:03:35.042-08:00Simon's 2018 Funnies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Simon came home very angry bc a kid at school took his candy (it got handled, he just can't let it go). After about 15 mins of him throwing things around and glaring angrily at me, Laura taps me out and goes into his room with him.<br />
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I hear:<br />
Simon: *furiously* Death or Torture. Make your choice.<br />
Laura: *casually* Oh, totally death. I'm not into torture.<br />
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A little while later I hear him say: "I'm not the one you gave birth to. I'm not the one you created. I'm the evil Killmonger". <br />
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He's so fluent in villian!<br />
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Simon: Who is the villain of the White House?<br />
Laura: Well, who do you think?<br />
Simon: Trump. But who is his henchman?<br />
Laura: The Vice President, a man named Mike Pence<br />
Simon: Is he also a villain?<br />
Laura: I think so. He doesn’t like people like me and Mama and he doesn’t think we should be able to be married and have kids.<br />
Simon: Well, you know I work for him.<br />
Laura: No. Just...no.<br />
Simon: Well, then you know I work for Trump.<br />
Laura: No.<br />
Simon: *thinking*<br />
Simon: What about Jason Vorhees (from Friday the 13th).<br />
Laura: Fine.<br />
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Simon: *angrily* "You're devoted!"<br />
Me:"I do not think this means what you think it means, but what a lovely thing to say on Valentine's Day! I am quite devoted to your mother"<br />
Simon: *scowling*<br />
Simon: "Fine. You're fired"<br />
Me: "Ah, yes. That's what I think you were going for".<br />
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Firing is so much more dramatic than demotion anyway.<br />
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Me: Simon, it's time for bed<br />
Simon: No. It's not that time.<br />
Me: Well, what time is it?<br />
Simon: Hammertime.<br />
Me: 😂<br />
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Simon: What are you cooking?<br />
Me: Cabbage<br />
Simon: Not humans?<br />
Me: Uh, no. Not humans.<br />
-----<br />
Doing bedtime with Simon. We listen to YouTube videos with my phone face down on the bed. He wants me to put it closer to him. I refuse.<br />
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Simon: That’s it. I’m doing a countdown. 3-2-1. Hand it over.<br />
Me: *smothering my laughter in a pillow and refusing to comply*<br />
Simon: That’s it. I’m sleeping by myself.<br />
Me: *remembering the countless nights he comes into our bed and keeps us awake for hours*<br />
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That’s not how this works. That’s not how any of this works. But highly entertaining.<br />
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Staffer at Trader Joes: Simon, you're so handsome!<br />
Simon: Yep!<br />
Me: Hold on. Simon, what do you say when someone gives you a compliment?<br />
Simon: Um...I'll accept that<br />
Me: Try again<br />
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Me: Simon, I love you.<br />
Simon: Why did Hitler get defeated?<br />
Me: Um, that's not the response I was expecting.<br />
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Report from my Mom after date night last night. (She leaves for 5 weeks in India tomorrow. )<br />
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Simon: Mamaw, how do you say “Oh My God” in Hindi?<br />
Mom: I’m not sure. I’ll have to find out.<br />
Simon: *muttering under his breath*<br />
Mom: *realizes that what she just heard was “Oh My Baghavatti”<br />
-----<br />
Simon: Who is going to be our hotel manager? Norman Bates?<br />
Me: I really hope not.<br />
-----<br />
Simon: We should open our own bageleria.<br />
Me: The phrase "bagel shop" is dead to me, forevermore.<br />
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Simon, tearing up after eating something spicy:<br />
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"My eyes are sweating!"<br />
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(Laura and I were talking about something and Simon randomly referenced a Honeymoon)<br />
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Me: Simon, are you going to have a Honeymoon?<br />
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Simon: Yes. ALONE.<br />
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We just finished lighting the candles tonight for Hannukah and Simon asked me a question. I didn’t know the answer and Simon said, “Jew don’t know the answer?” And then busted out laughing.<br />
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Simon's action figure smack down just featured Sophia Carson v. Stalin. <br />
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Me: *holding Simon's chin and looking lovingly into his eyes*<br />
Me: "I love this punim"<br />
Simon: *glaring back at me*<br />
Simon: "I only love pain"<br />
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Is 9 too young to go goth?<br />
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When I thought about what parenthood would look like, I didn’t imagine a sword fight between Ozzy Osborne and Peter Pan, set to the soundtrack of “War?” by System of a Down, and yet...<br />
-----<br />
Simon's latest obsession is that he is King Cancer and Laura is Henchman Bacteria and their evil superpowers are causing disease. I mean, I guess it’s related to science, right?</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-62457468991981564332018-04-02T16:19:00.001-07:002018-04-05T10:33:35.523-07:00Mission Complete!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's been 4 years since Simon's last surgery.<br />
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It sounds like some sort of confession when I write it like that. It's odd- there's a way I feel guilty for not keeping up more with this blog and then I remember that the reason why it's quiet is because we're just...living. We aren't having big ups and downs or urgent issues that need frequent updates. I'm *so* grateful for this time. I say "this time" because feels like it's what's between two parenthesis in this journey, not a final destination. I hope I'm wrong. I hope that puberty will not bring the lack of cardiac stability that we fear, and I hope something new won't crop up, but there's no way to tell, so I will enjoy where we are RIGHT NOW. </div>
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We just successfully completed what we all hope is Simon's last anticipated surgery. We've known since he was a toddler that it was likely he'd need this relatively minor procedure but didn't know for sure until this past year. Ironically, it has NOTHING to do with his heart. He's just lucky like that. </div>
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Unlike in years past, neither Laura nor I posted anything on Facebook about it in advance or rallied any big support. In fact, a new friend organized a meal train and we both put the kibosh on it because we're just feeling...hermetic? Unfazed? Numb? </div>
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Laura found herself feeling really spacey the last few weeks and I, honestly, kept forgetting what day he was having surgery, or some days, even that he was having it at all. I pushed away the fingers of PTSD that wanted to creep up my neck and make me worry. I didn't fret, I didn't imagine worst case scenarios (well, not more than once each), didn't feel the woozy slightly drunk feeling I often feel when I'm walking down the halls when we're at CHO for a non-social visit. </div>
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Simon was a total rock star. He chatted and charmed and flirted. He bequeathed his precious Harry Potter wand to the Child Life Specialist who solemnly swore to use it with care on their "mission" (what we called his surgery). He brought his favorite bamboo stick and demonstrated incredible strength and skill to the universe with martial arts moves in the atrium while Laura was checking in. When it was finally time to move from pre-op to the surgical suite, he led us all down the hall with a steady pace, blue gown flapping behind him, stick held high and proud. In the surgery receiving area, we literally had to hold him back because he was so eager to meet all the doctors and nurses and embark on the mission. When it was finally time for him to go in, we hugged and kissed him and waved him off as he headed in to the OR with two nurses and the child life specialist.</div>
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Paula, the nurse doing the final check in asked us one more time before they started, "So, no solid food since 8:30 am and then just clear liquids until 9:45 this morning, right?" I answered, "Yep, just ginger ale and chicken broth and kombucha". She hesitated. I froze. "Chicken broth. Um...." Turns out there are varying definitions of "clear liquids" and Houston, we had a problem because we fed him broth from leftover Matzo Ball soup. </div>
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This phenomenal nurse did exactly what she was supposed to do and went to go check in with the anesthesiologist. Two minutes later the entire team was back with us, minus the child life specialist and Simon, plus the anesthesiologist. Long story short, liquids with fat and protein can be a HUGE issue b/c they digest more slowly than just juice or soda, and if there are particulates, they can cause pneumonia if aspirated. Laura did the math again in her head and we described in more detail what he had ingested. The surgeon said, "I think we might need to reschedule". </div>
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My blood ran cold. </div>
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The surgery we've been dreading for 7 years and finally sacrificed part of spring break for and that our son was actually PUMPED for was about to be cancelled because of a goddamn box of goddamn Manischweitz soup. But... this is why I love Children's Hospital Oakland. The anesthesiologist stepped out to consult with a more experienced colleague to see if we could get some clarity on how big a deal this really was. He came back and said that it's a really gray area. I asked the surgeon what she would do if it were her child (her classic surgeon response was "I wouldn't have given it to him"!) . They were clear to explain that there was a risk, but that it was very unlikely that anything could happen. I could tell we were all on the fence, but that the surgeon wanted to make sure that we understood the risks and that basically it would be our decision to move forward or not. Blessedly, as with every other major decision Laura and I have had to make, we were on the same team. </div>
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Game on. </div>
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We went down to the cafeteria where we estimate that we've logged at least 250 hours over the years (including waiting during his 4 other surgical procedures). When it got close to time, we were too antsy to wait for a call so we went to the surgical waiting room to kick back in recliners and watch Jeopardy. Just when it was starting to be uncomfortably late, a nurse walked in and asked for Simon's parents. We both struggled to sit up in our recliners and grabbed our stuff. "Hold on, hold on", she cautioned and, again, my blood ran cold. Laura and I looked at each other. </div>
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"Is he awake?", I asked urgently. She broke into a smile and said, "Oh, yeah, he's doing great. He woke up in a great mood and when I asked him if he wanted his Mommies, he said no and rolled back over to go to sleep". We busted out laughing. One of our biggest fears was that he'd have Emergence Delirium as he has had every other time he's come out of general anesthesia. The best way to explain Emergence Delirium is that it's like trying to manage a furious, feral animal with a fresh surgical wound who wants to kill you. It's hideous. We opted out of Versed before surgery as it's likely to contribute to Emergence Delirium and we literally high fived at the news that our plan worked. </div>
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When we went in to see him eventually he was very sleepy but quite generous with his thumbs up regarding his status. A few vital readings and one purple Otter Pop later we got discharged. He's currently passed out in his bed. </div>
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I'm so grateful that this procedure is over. It's been hanging over our heads for years and I can't be happy enough that it's over, that it went well and that I got to witness how incredible our kid is. He's integrating his trauma in the most incredible ways. Who eagerly runs into an OR?!</div>
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Team Shimmy, over and out. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0IYmb1oCbxYUHr_1AdUzpuh9fs6KNI4A1ikvPMxxFGq6rD44tPwsfDpqStl8YpILBb2VbSbRkvQP3UQ7jXgddy572TaQC-k9FQyW-OKddsPooDV8vdg-YSrj6U5hlbC4XUuZxUM5MYl2a/s1600/IMG_3292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0IYmb1oCbxYUHr_1AdUzpuh9fs6KNI4A1ikvPMxxFGq6rD44tPwsfDpqStl8YpILBb2VbSbRkvQP3UQ7jXgddy572TaQC-k9FQyW-OKddsPooDV8vdg-YSrj6U5hlbC4XUuZxUM5MYl2a/s320/IMG_3292.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stoner with an Otter Pop</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-53925662021775182262018-02-11T09:00:00.001-08:002018-02-11T09:01:04.975-08:00Simon's 2016 funnies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">I realized after I posted
the 2017 funnies, that I had done this in 2016 but only posted on
Facebook. Thought I'd share here in case anyone needs a chuckle. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">A compilation of Simon
funnies from this year to ease the pain of 2016.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">--------</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Simon perfectly
communicated how he feels about his first day of school by crawling into my lap
while simultaneously yelling at me to leave him alone.<br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Simon
loves to make up puns and mash up words. This morning it was "coffee"
and "chocolate". From this day on, in our house, mochas shall forever
be called "cocklet". Bwwwwaaaaahahaha!</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">--------------</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Dropping
Simon off at school late after a morning appointment and passed kid standing
outside a classroom. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Kid looks up
and shouts"Simon! Oh my god! Where WERE you? You haven't been here all
morning", and wraps him in an
"I-thought-you-were-lost-at-sea-but-here-you-are-in-the-flesh" bear
hug. I honestly thought the kid was going to cry he was so glad to see him.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Team Shimmy fans are hardcore, man. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Thank God. He's gonna extra need it if Trump gets elected.<br />
-------</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Simon,
after finishing a donut: "I think that sugar just hit me in the nuts,
Bro!" </span></div>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"><br />
I could NOT make this stuff up.<br />
-------------------</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Simon was playing with our
landline phone almost an hour ago. Thought I hung it up before he actually made
any calls, but I just answered a very hard knock on the door to find 2 Oakland
police officers calling me Ms. Fitch and asking me if I called 911. Dude. If I
called 911 an hour ago and actually had an emergency...damn. And that's the
response time for a middle class neighborhood. Also, my kid is so busted when
he wakes up tomorrow.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">----------------</span></div>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Reason #936 why
I adore Simon? He calls Laura Fitch "the chaplain". As in, "is
the chaplain home" or "where's the chaplain?", if she's not
around. Slays me every time.<br />
----------------</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">In
lighter news, this week Simon's two TV obsessions are Teletubbies (I can barely
handle that we're back on this after enduring his early years with this on
non-stop) and...Lip Sync Battle.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Simon's
brain to my brain: "I'm 2! No, wait, I'm 14. Just kidding. I'm 8 but maybe
more like 5. That's right. Keep guessing. "<br />
---------<br />
It made my whole day when Simon requested Megan Trainer's "No".<br />
-----------<br />
Simon now adds "Bruh" to almost any answer. As in "Simon, do you
want toast for breakfast?" "Nah, Bruh. I want sushi". </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">----------<br />
Parenting win for the day: not busting out laughing when Simon tries to insult
me by angrily calling me a "scoundrel".</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">-----<br />
Simon: "I'm a chicken. My name is Pecker!"<br />
Me: <span style="margin: 0px;"><img alt="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/fbf/1/16/1f62c.png" height="16" src="file:///C:/Users/Laura/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image001.png" v:shapes="Picture_x0020_1" width="16" /><span style="clip: auto; margin: 0px; overflow: visible;"></span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="clip: auto; margin: 0px; overflow: visible;"><span style="display: inline-block; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;">---------<br />
Simon tonight: "I like big butts". Me: Oh shit. (Thank you Alvin and
the Chipmunks, btw). Simon, also tonight, while we were marching up the hill on
the dog walk: "We are the 99%". Me: Okay, I think that balances
things out.<br />
-------<br />
As overheard this morning:<br />
Simon: Is Darth Vader coming to our Seder?<br />
Laura: Nope. He's not Jewish.<br />
Simon: Nuh uh! He is TOTALLY Jewish!<br />
-------<br />
Second time Simon has ripped a loose tooth out of his mouth and triumphantly
spiked it on the floor, leaving us frantically crawling around on the ground
for said tooth. Tonight it was in the dark in our driveway.<br />
-------<br />
Scene: bedtime <br />
Me : *trying to quietly sneak out of Simons room, thinking he's asleep.*<br />
Simon: [full voice] "Nuh uh! You shouldn't be doing that. You get back
here".<br />
Me : *shaking with laughter as I slink back*</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-9809405259626457752018-02-08T19:49:00.003-08:002018-02-08T19:53:38.232-08:00Simon's 2017 Funnies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Here's a compilation of his funniest moments last year:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Context: we are a very physically affectionate family, very playful and don’t spank for punishment but do spank each other playfully a lot.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Simon is eating breakfast and watching TV. Laura jumps up </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">from couch next to him and runs into kitchen (within view of Simon) to grab a quick full body snuggle with me, complete with a butt grab.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: Spank it!</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Laura and I: *laugh* </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Laura: *little spank on my butt*</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: Harder!</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Laura and I: Um...</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: Mommy! Spank your wife!</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: *If anyone outside of this house heard this, we are so getting a call from CPS*</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Brought home rose Turkish Delight tonight bc Simon has been obsessed with The Chronicles of Narnia.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We all tasted it.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: It tastes like soap.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Laura: Yep. Like rose soap. </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: It tastes...Narnian.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And, just like that, food snobs of Oakland have a new adjective.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">You're welcome.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: Mama, can I get this eggplant?</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: What are you going to do with it? </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: Pan fry it.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: That sounds delicious.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: *remembering many items purchased and not eaten*</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: Simon, what do I get if I buy this for you and cook it and you don't eat it? </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: Uh...You get to slap me.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: *thinking*</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: That sounds fair.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What one wears to see "Thor".</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijiarj2K813OUEEz8xZJVklY_fXf1bBk5sx0P3JPuw7jdPfOyvSMtH6Cm6eiV12nr_JLM1cblF8Y2t34WBMn2MAfD_yAAtx6mftNkyJDJzHTs81mNEHflTx_CxPFlNImayrkyy102Gy7dA/s1600/23621572_10155896984638887_64217035828172718_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijiarj2K813OUEEz8xZJVklY_fXf1bBk5sx0P3JPuw7jdPfOyvSMtH6Cm6eiV12nr_JLM1cblF8Y2t34WBMn2MAfD_yAAtx6mftNkyJDJzHTs81mNEHflTx_CxPFlNImayrkyy102Gy7dA/s320/23621572_10155896984638887_64217035828172718_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Post movie:<br />Me: who was your favorite character?<br />Simon: Hela. She was hella good. Get it?!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Walking dog with Simon, each of us equipped with the requisite Harry Potter wand.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: *bleats like goat*</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: *points wand at something*</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: "Alohah-ah-ah-amoh-oh-oh-r-ah-ah-ah"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: I'm a goat! I'm a wizard! I'm a gizzard!</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Highlight of the weekend</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: "Mama, can we listen to the Screaming Goat Complain-a-thon on YouTube?"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: "Uh, yeah! That sounds amazing!"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: *fruitlessly searching*</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Laura: "Simon, do you mean 'compilation'?"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: "Yes!"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: *pouting *</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The first version sounded way funnier.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon : Who is Joan Jett? (He often asks questions he knows the answers to)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Laura: Simon, you know who she is. How would you describe her?</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: Strong, legendary and tough. And she's a fighter.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Laura and I: Um. Wow. Pretty much. Yeah.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Two minutes after I walk out of Simon's room thinking he's soundly asleep, he opens his door, stands there scowling with a toy pistol in his hand and angrily proclaims "Worst sleep EVER!" </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Drama King.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: Can you be a valley wizard?</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: Oh Mah Gah. She is like, *so* Hufflepuff. Ew.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoBO-puCxIcBXfxpqMTqQk_Buop8SF7y_t1ph3fPIwuPhGG03ORv2GrFXfz1dmIOG10xRXdXEBl2QqcjrkTDBM5AuZSei6dt2gilXVNCtMIUt3GBHdMa6NIQFlqcx38qUtuIeaZEnCTBKY/s1600/24852312_10155972205753887_2133253742991428875_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoBO-puCxIcBXfxpqMTqQk_Buop8SF7y_t1ph3fPIwuPhGG03ORv2GrFXfz1dmIOG10xRXdXEBl2QqcjrkTDBM5AuZSei6dt2gilXVNCtMIUt3GBHdMa6NIQFlqcx38qUtuIeaZEnCTBKY/s320/24852312_10155972205753887_2133253742991428875_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Breaking in his new tuxedo jacket by hawking gelt at Trader Joes. Seriously. He parked himself there and offered gelt to everyone that passed by for a full 15 minutes.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">------------------</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: I have a crush on Miley Cyrus.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Me: (inside) </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><img height="21" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/V_-tPSlByna8EJti97uElCpBliQ3-0Elq3OIStKEp7_NX46i3t_iROVfaJad9gxcAI24RZ-NsXplIW9wMeimvgcmmOQW_D4O8WYnUbngcOX-frcizqBFjpZDA5fsb0W1eKs6_2Xd" style="border: none; transform: rotate(0rad);" width="21" /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: (outside) Oh! What do you like about her?</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: The power that she presents.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Me: (inside and outside) </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><img height="21" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/ZYpd2CDc2kIo4fpL617riI9CSsm90K-tIkeXhFqMMPJ9okTfKHob8feVhng7QgsumBeO7vUf98R318GJJtbkNcdQAPMeLwfuoZFM1w9jPP-VxV7Y5xv8Jb-45UyDRm6pU9mIcI2q" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0.00rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0.00rad);" width="21" /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: "Simon, what's your favorite thing about Mommy?"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: "When she's on call at Summit hospital"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Laura and I: Uh....ok. Let's try again. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Laura: "What's your favorite thing about Mama?"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon : "When she goes to work"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Laura and I: "Twerp".</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Spider Bobby about to report for duty at the Dickens Faire</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdDZO-r4e7gQZRqyJFprH_Neb1ZIuxlHwvk37WzDtF9asSHugUv7IwjTVM0uAaTDm5prsvkRVMh4FTB_2BKM9qsYxCLblvpLuS_gJRd6Ihrw8aU6qcZWplfzJHb9fTMJZ7sLkin_hUzWmL/s1600/23916024_10155935043523887_37945548703334177_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdDZO-r4e7gQZRqyJFprH_Neb1ZIuxlHwvk37WzDtF9asSHugUv7IwjTVM0uAaTDm5prsvkRVMh4FTB_2BKM9qsYxCLblvpLuS_gJRd6Ihrw8aU6qcZWplfzJHb9fTMJZ7sLkin_hUzWmL/s320/23916024_10155935043523887_37945548703334177_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: normal;">-</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">--------------</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A little regret that we watched a video of a goat delivering triplets. Simon's new "popcorn" word of the week is vagina. As in, we were just mock battling and he threatened to smack me with a...vagina.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Hey, at least I can stand proud as a former sex ed teacher that he knows the proper word, right?</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: *driving*</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon from the backseat: "Do otters have a big ole vagina?"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: *Nearly running off the road* </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: *hysterical laughter*</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: "Nope, I think they're pretty small."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My contribution to the marches for science. Anatomy is science, right?</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When Laura and I got home from seeing Get Out:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: Simon, Mommy and I went to see a really scary movie. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: Did it have hunters?</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: Um, actually, yes. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img height="21" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/Rmryz3-tRso7ukZsO_sfypnqdkGb4b4Q82njOiQ0aU-D8nXkKGgJYe4739d_YcSrFQ6hjJnFMQG_PR1CS914E_k7O_oGN5AbJ9EUr5Ce5IbDEqulY-kXd57xXngXmoI1GjMmTcxT" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0.00rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0.00rad);" width="21" /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">*in my brain*:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">You are *hella* creepy dude. How did you vibe the perfect word to describe those crazy ass people while not hearing a single thing about that movie and me not even saying the name of the movie? </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">*shiver*</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">Walked Simon into YMCA spring break camp this morning and a twenty-something young man watched him with a super sweet little smile on his face. I said "you could start your day like this" and he shook his head a little. He said "I used to be that person". I responded "you still are!" And my heart broke a little that someone so young already felt like the real him had no place in the world. </span><span class="_5mfr _47e3" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/fe7/1/16/1f494.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span class="_7oe" style="display: inline-block; width: 0px;">💔</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"> Let your freak flag fly, people.</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2-ZdGoJSqXtCvLTRNz0UdqmFkM6OOoAgXIzVULQwMOzALKjV2sukqULK8VMcHMmzgVCqe8gl37ILjlZvrk1hKbYmKvqlPZ0aK8VX8_esB8Mk_teDTdz-Vv9soj0cJRg5hIv2_egKleJqk/s1600/17796706_10155213342623887_6202761194282928967_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2-ZdGoJSqXtCvLTRNz0UdqmFkM6OOoAgXIzVULQwMOzALKjV2sukqULK8VMcHMmzgVCqe8gl37ILjlZvrk1hKbYmKvqlPZ0aK8VX8_esB8Mk_teDTdz-Vv9soj0cJRg5hIv2_egKleJqk/s320/17796706_10155213342623887_6202761194282928967_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">-</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">---------------------</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: You know where I want to work?</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: No, where?</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: The White House!</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: Cool! What is your job going to be?</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: I'm going to work *for* racism and the Imperius Curse</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me: Well, you'd be in very good company right now.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sometimes Simon's word salad is freakishly spot on. The word of the day is "homophobia" ( no idea why or from where- never heard him use it before today). He can't articulate that he knows what it means, but he just said, "Do you know what homophobia can do? It can make people go back in time ". Um, yeah. That's pretty much it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Best part of my day was picking up Simon from camp (no small thing since I had Homeless Court today which I love). One of Simon's verbal "tapes" is to randomly generate codes. Today as we were walking out, one of his counselors said "Hey Simon! What's the code?". Simon authoritatively answered "247". The counselor nodded and replied "got it".</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I realized this has happened every day I've picked him up.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Nothing better than seeing my son fly his freak flag high and getting to witness someone salute it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: How about we listen to"Barbie Girl"?</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Laura : I'd really rather not. That song makes me a little nuts </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: Well, it doesn't make me go nuts. That song is my jam...always.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh4huT0yu0m4oZ2SrCZhi7RKvNyeiPreevAn1OHB79sSdrD3S_LREDYMQtyzMoUxhZOLToUHA4Aj9nCmBmTlgzSxtajY-sdpws503Gda4jEKvwdY7wTKLdPrhyphenhyphenxcMY6BvPEFuup7g_eA7N/s1600/22519247_10155831457688887_8995357106270063813_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="319" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh4huT0yu0m4oZ2SrCZhi7RKvNyeiPreevAn1OHB79sSdrD3S_LREDYMQtyzMoUxhZOLToUHA4Aj9nCmBmTlgzSxtajY-sdpws503Gda4jEKvwdY7wTKLdPrhyphenhyphenxcMY6BvPEFuup7g_eA7N/s320/22519247_10155831457688887_8995357106270063813_n.jpg" width="106" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: normal;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: normal;">Yes that's the Torah and yes, that's Wonder Woman gear. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: normal;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: normal;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: normal;">They were letting the kids help with rolling the Torah at Hebrew School and he had a very specific place he wanted it stopped so he could pretend to read it. Of course we want to know what the text said where he stopped. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: normal;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: normal;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: normal;">This child. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: normal;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: normal;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: normal;">He's some kind of magic.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">---------------</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Talking about racism and whiteness with a kid on the spectrum is at best...dicey.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Laura and I: *blah blah racism, black, native, MLK, Black Panthers, blah, blah unfair, protest, angry, blah, blah, white people, speak up, responsibility, blah, blah*</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon : *says something showing he mostly followed what we were saying*</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Laura and I: *exhaling*</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Five minutes later...</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon : *echolelia smorgasbord of phrases about racism strung together into KKK worthy statement*</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Laura and I: "We are so going to get a call from the principal "</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In keeping with his current obsession with placentas (thank you Bear Grylls and Shaq), Simon's imaginary new robot is "Placentron".</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I present...Mosquito Warrior. His super power is that he controls mosquitoes with the snap of his fingers.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Also, he just said to me "Mama, you know I'm a fighter, not a lover, right?" For real.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">-----</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp3VHlLEk8hb_I1sI1P1guTqNOcGJv97v4nzrZZuHepTQQgZDn1dIC5AZ7CLxyN5m7iLLcaSp-Oo8y_7pynKQ1mAWwiul6m4OFEJ-IRWs9nx4qPdKZTNtlyg-ox6G7ZCHETgstMf61kbhs/s1600/18157772_10155295062793887_3225192065019421521_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp3VHlLEk8hb_I1sI1P1guTqNOcGJv97v4nzrZZuHepTQQgZDn1dIC5AZ7CLxyN5m7iLLcaSp-Oo8y_7pynKQ1mAWwiul6m4OFEJ-IRWs9nx4qPdKZTNtlyg-ox6G7ZCHETgstMf61kbhs/s320/18157772_10155295062793887_3225192065019421521_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Keeping the streets safe.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">--------</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon always bogarts my bone broth but now he asks me to put it in his Butterbeer cup (from Harry Potter world) and proudly calls it "Chicken Beer" as he chugs it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Simon's parting words to me from the back seat as he and Laura </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">dropped me off at the airport as I left for England was a fervent "God Save The Queen"!</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-----</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I love that my Mom gave us a book about how to celebrate the Solstice with kids as a Solstice present.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I also loved this moment:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Mom: “Who wears black and white and red and gives out presents?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon: “Bhagavati!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That’s about as multi-cultural as it gets.</span></span></div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-82428014515254108192018-02-05T22:33:00.001-08:002018-02-06T09:01:08.379-08:0050/50<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Last weekend I was invited to a gathering that included a few other families with kids with special needs, most of whom I had not met before. I was chatting with a Dad who has two kids on the spectrum. As we talked about our kids, I mentioned that in addition to being on the spectrum, Simon had also been very ill with heart disease as a small child. His compassionate “oh man, that sounds so hard” response to that extra bit of news was welcome and also jarring. It always catches me off guard when another parent with a kid with special needs is shocked by our medical experiences. I forget sometimes that there are multiple clubs under the “Special Needs” umbrella. I figure that we belong to *three* clubs.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">I’m a public health nerd, so I made a Venn diagram with examples of what I mean.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;"></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">(Simon doesn't have all the things listed under each category, btw, in case that's confusing- just giving examples of what might be in each bucket) </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Xa_F-w2DpTgkMSnmk0KUsrSYQgASaPBe07w6ajjtB-VI3x2NOd33zI8LqmnafWzNBXaoHgn1BsIKzM9E0aGf7wOxIHAVlNyBvFO1QCS2MnsDzT2jkLS3AlmabaL58lXAShCJsHaoEq0n/s1600/Venn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="456" data-original-width="474" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Xa_F-w2DpTgkMSnmk0KUsrSYQgASaPBe07w6ajjtB-VI3x2NOd33zI8LqmnafWzNBXaoHgn1BsIKzM9E0aGf7wOxIHAVlNyBvFO1QCS2MnsDzT2jkLS3AlmabaL58lXAShCJsHaoEq0n/s320/Venn.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">As I lay in bed thinking about my conversation with that Dad, I realized that Simon's life so far is divided almost equally in half, with the </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;"> first half dominated by medical special needs and the second half by developmental special needs. As a bonus, in the last year we've also been joined by behavioral special needs but I sort of lump that in with the developmental stuff. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Our lives have been somewhat ruled by whatever issue is on the front burner. In the first 5 years of Simon's life, we only wanted to go to cardiac camps, freaked out about germs on the daily and mostly lived with the threat of death. At about age 5, Simon got off the feeding tube, his heart stabilized and we got the autism diagnosis. From that point on, heart camps didn't work for us anymore, we shifted our focus from keeping him alive to how to best understand how his brain works, worry now about crowded/overstimulating situations and live with the threat of him getting bullied. Last year he got diagnosed with ADHD and we've added paying attention to how ADHD meds are/are not working for him, how to help him manage his big feelings that sweep through with lightening speed and worry about the executive function challenges of middle school that are coming up in 6th grade. </span></div>
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While it's stressful to raise a kid with special needs, I've found the kinds of stress to be really different depending on the category of the challenge. Here's my breakdown:</div>
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<li>The stress of medical special needs kind of feels like getting clubbed to death. </li>
<li>The stress from managing developmental special needs might be best likened to death by a thousand paper cuts. </li>
<li>Behavioral special needs can feel like there is imminent risk of bodily harm (to yourself or your kid, depending on the day and the tantrum). </li>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">The joys are different too. We don't celebrate echocardiogram results and dropping meds from the regimen anymore. Instead, we high five when Simon asks a "why" question and cheer when he gets his dirty dishes from the living room to the kitchen without a distracted bypass to his bedroom with dishes still in hand. One isn't better or worse than the others, just different. Actually, that's bullshit. I'll take the behavioral stress over the medical stress. The threat of death sucks the big one. </span></div>
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It's all a lot<span style="font-size: 12.8px;"> and with Simon, much of it isn't obvious at first, which also feels hard. Sometimes it feels like we're carrying this enormous load and you can't tell if you just meet us. </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Laura and I often talk about how we wish there were some secret signal for other parents of kids with special needs to “flag” that we’re a member of the same club. This has been proposed a few times, but it looks way too much like “Heil Hitler” for me to promote. Still, how amazing would that be?!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6pQnK_L0D3rUTOyCRfQqa9t-M03VVML1SQcFcmObU4Aw6LxpwXrA5S3w7SBgjX6zvx6zoHkokyQG7nPz8P9XB7_vK-lbdHC2IWz9QMZE0FxOjvyp_L8XnwEjFrc4yaLe_wJLONTxwGyxG/s1600/IMG_2218-300x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6pQnK_L0D3rUTOyCRfQqa9t-M03VVML1SQcFcmObU4Aw6LxpwXrA5S3w7SBgjX6zvx6zoHkokyQG7nPz8P9XB7_vK-lbdHC2IWz9QMZE0FxOjvyp_L8XnwEjFrc4yaLe_wJLONTxwGyxG/s1600/IMG_2218-300x300.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">I love getting to be around other parents of kids with special needs, whatever stripe. And, there's something unique about people who are wrangling more than one. About 7 years ago, a few of us that were in an early intervention program together formed the BAD Mamas (Bitchin' And Drinkin' Mamas). Every couple of months we soak in a hot tub, eat cheese, drink wine (well, the other ones do) and bitch about all our woes. And because we all have kids that have medical AND developmental and/or behavioral stuff, we effortlessly swing between work challenges, medical tests, new diagnoses, IEPs and who our favorite caseworker is this month and everyone just nods. There's no explaining, no worrying about stressing someone out, no need to be careful. We just let it all hang out. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">I'm so grateful to get to belong to so many people. Queers. Oaklanders. Public Health workers. Parents of kids with heart disease. Parents of kids on the spectrum. Parents of kids with squirrel brain (as I call ADHD). Jews. Partners of Chaplains. The list goes on. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">And on extra hard days, I'm extra grateful for my BAD Mamas and all the other parents out there whose lives double and triple up on those bubbles. It's not something I would choose, but I think those of us who live these wacky realities belong to each other in a way that can only be forged by being squeezed between a rock and a hard place. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Silver linings. They're everywhere. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">School photo aka Brute Squad application pic</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hawking gelt at Trader Joe's</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwqK5-ZbicCFKRo-fEcGjFdDpRy5gTmaYdP35R4vSJFIwII6DJuusy4N-CZS04nXgKIl01CxJPlaILdau_0mEjAW8wH3h-6sSp-HUCH6zJH2s6r-urecX6cBVE9wVJv1UmTGB6dYjMJIn7/s1600/IMG_2624.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwqK5-ZbicCFKRo-fEcGjFdDpRy5gTmaYdP35R4vSJFIwII6DJuusy4N-CZS04nXgKIl01CxJPlaILdau_0mEjAW8wH3h-6sSp-HUCH6zJH2s6r-urecX6cBVE9wVJv1UmTGB6dYjMJIn7/s320/IMG_2624.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sacked out in the airport during a delay</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKBfV11uyuIsZfaITBrzkVO66H2-hz6LSTQfxACWHgFfwyzFiUBD3cKw5WxGyMsv-j4-F0f8cd4fMgPYLBQFKw1CHpN3ChhkXrUno0R208rik-VhyhclDqvKh3alwsbzpAGjcwqrXnLMw9/s1600/IMG_2706.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKBfV11uyuIsZfaITBrzkVO66H2-hz6LSTQfxACWHgFfwyzFiUBD3cKw5WxGyMsv-j4-F0f8cd4fMgPYLBQFKw1CHpN3ChhkXrUno0R208rik-VhyhclDqvKh3alwsbzpAGjcwqrXnLMw9/s320/IMG_2706.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vikings in Canada!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Headed to the Oakland Women's March with Mamaw</td></tr>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-81241982110788811552017-08-09T20:30:00.000-07:002018-02-06T09:02:42.340-08:00Nine Years Ago<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Dear Simon (aka Bane, Voldemort, Princess Celestia,
Megatron, Darth Vader, Trender Hoof, etc etc)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Today is August 1<sup>st</sup>. Nine years ago
today I thought I knew who I was, what I was doing, and where I was going. You
changed all that with a simple wheeze. Several hours later you were fighting
for your life with this incredible will, amazing team at Children’s Hospital, a
ventilator, and two broken and shell shocked mommies. I will never forget that
feeling of handing your sweet exhausted little body over to the nurses and Dr
Williams knowing what they had to do, and that it would hopefully save your
life. I will never forget that feeling of complete surrender. It was the same
feeling I had 6 weeks later when Jaime and I made the decision to not list you
for a transplant, believing that whatever needed to happen would happen and
that Jaime and I would be whoever we were meant to be, as moms, as partners, as
individuals.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"> For those 113 days with you in the ICU, I practiced being present.
I practiced slowing down. I practiced breathing and trusting and feeling all
the feels because if I didn’t I might miss a moment with you and we didn’t know
how many more of those we might have. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I remember knowing that I had to take care of myself
first because 15 hour days in the ICU was what was being asked of me and I
didn’t want to/ couldn’t imagine doing anything else. But when I got to take 15
min breaks or someone came to hold you for an hour while I went home to take
Roxie out for a walk in the sun and non-recycled air, I knew I had to do it. I
learned to accept and even ask for help. I recommitted to touch and song and
finding the Light even in the midst of beeps and needles and medications
administered and even in what felt like the darkest of dark.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">And we laughed. Jaime and I laughed and welcomed new
people and ate RedVines. We did it like there was no tomorrow. We held each
other. We held each other physically, emotionally and spiritually. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">We did it for months in the hospital. We did it for
the years out of the hospital when things were still so dicey with compromised
immune systems and feeding tubes and so so many medications. Your Mama and I
stayed present to each other during some really hard shit, more
hospitalizations, more diagnoses, bigger risks and amazing surprises from you
as you worked your magic, on your own timeline, to becoming the weird and
wonderful 9 year old you are today.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">We will never be out of the woods with
Cardiomyopathy. Autism keeps us re-framing and relearning about the world and
the way you see it, and ADHD makes sure that we stay in the moment, breathing
deeply to be closer to you as you pace yourself in this growing up process,
ever drawing those around you into your imaginative and complex world.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">This August I will be finishing up my yearlong
Residency program in Chaplaincy and I want to thank you. It was you and your
‘big heart’ that took me off my School Social worker path and brought me to this
moment. A few days ago I got offered my dream job. It works for me, it works
for our family, and it means getting to follow a calling; a calling that you
brought me to with what I can only describe as your divine connection. You have shown me over and over again,
through parenting, through partnering with Jaime, through your own bright and
unmistakable Light, more of what I meant to do with this life. I love being a
chaplain. I love the process, I love the practice, I love the learning. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">You are like my very own living, breathing
Shehechianu blessing and I just want to take this moment to thank you. Thank
you for bringing me to this time and this place. Thank you for all the ways
that you have made our family what it is. Thank you for the opportunities to
learn and connect with the world around me in new and wonder-full ways. Thank
you for showing me that beautiful and brutal are loving cousins and most of
all, thank you for the chance to play, imagine, see, breathe, cry, laugh, love
and live during this time with you. I am humbled and honored to be your mom, a
chaplain, a wife, and simply me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><img src="webkit-fake-url://fc44ce08-d324-4cc8-80c4-ee36375f39b7/imagejpeg" /><img src="webkit-fake-url://b3944b6b-3134-40c7-ad64-f0ae975868fc/imagejpeg" /><img src="webkit-fake-url://a14768cd-fa89-4853-b1f0-7a00249e20c8/imagejpeg" /><img src="webkit-fake-url://2e750615-3108-41c6-90a6-26c4225e95b0/imagejpeg" /><img src="webkit-fake-url://09840731-17f2-46f3-9ddb-47245f055ba9/imagejpeg" /><img src="webkit-fake-url://ccebae8b-2924-44f2-a152-3139cec836e1/imagejpeg" /><img src="webkit-fake-url://b12f49c8-aa37-4469-b834-699973968040/imagejpeg" /><img src="webkit-fake-url://70d28b0f-c474-4edd-8b45-a43b2e0fe145/imagejpeg" /><img src="webkit-fake-url://d3e8ad7f-c9af-46a7-acc2-830a717ce176/imagejpeg" /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-20406589345337117672017-07-09T21:57:00.001-07:002017-07-09T22:07:02.378-07:00(Almost) Annual Update<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="color: #454545; line-height: normal; text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
We were
at Camp Taylor (a cardiac family camp) this weekend and being around so many
other "heart" families brought the cardiac stuff to the forefront of
my mind in a way it hasn't been in a while. While we were at camp, I
decided to re-read our last blog post and realized it's been almost a year
since our last post! It made me smile, actually, because
it's a marker of how medically stable Simon has been. Around here no news is
good news.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
That
said, there's a lot to catch up on...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
My
(Jaime) depression finally got to a point where I decided, after much kicking,
screaming and trying every other possible avenue, to try an SSRI. The
first drug I tried was Zoloft and I am not kidding when I say that literally
the next day I felt like I was seeing the sun and hearing the birds for the
first time in close to a decade. I assumed that must have been a placebo
effect because I've always heard that SSRIs take weeks to get up to dose, but
have since learned that it was a real, true response of my brain to finally
getting what it needed. I joked that my brain was like Pac Man gobbling
up the SSRI hungrily. Nom nom nom. My therapist told me that Zoloft
is now prescribed for women who have very severe PMS for 5 days a month and
that it works that quickly and effectively. Who knew?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
I
developed a weird rash after less than 2 weeks, so they made me taper off and
wait for the rash to go away until I could try something new. That
tapering process was mindblowingly informative. After a few days off
Zoloft, every day that passed brought a deeper layer of fog that left me
feeling tired in a profound way that left me unenthused about everything. Like,
everything just seemed like it was going to take more effort than it was worth,
even things I usually like. I realized that that was how I had felt for YEARS
but had just gotten used to it. Holy crap, wake up call. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Since
finding a new med that works (and bonus, no side effects for me!) I've realized
that the last 5-8 years have been like walking around with a raw abrasion.
You know that feeling when you have a big new scrape and anything hits it
(water, air, clothing, a table) sends shockwaves through your whole system that
make you catch your breath and your head spin? Life was kinda like that
for me. I'd just catch my breath from the latest bump, no matter how
small, and the next thing would hit and my whole system would just start up on
red alert. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
My
therapist had the best analogy- when you break an arm and you put a cast on it,
the cast isn't healing your arm. It's creating an environment for your
arm to heal, but your body is doing the actual healing. That was the most
helpful thing for me because I have such a stubborn "I'm fine, I can suck
it up, I can do it myself" attitude. What I heard her say was that
trying meds might give my brain an opportunity to rest enough so that all the
other hard work I'm doing to keep myself healthy (therapy, exercise, eating
well, meditation, etc) has a better shot of actually getting in and helping.
Going on meds has been like putting a bandage over it so the raw places can
scab over. Almost every day I say to Laura cheerily "I'm so glad I'm
on an SSRI" and she just smiles at me knowingly as she'd been trying to
convince me to face my fears about this for the last few years. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
I think
one of the other things that tipped me towards deciding to try an SSRI was
seeing statistics about the PTSD/anxiety/depression rates of parents of kids
who have severe medical trauma and very similar data for parents of kids who
have developmental/behavioral challenges. I did the math on us and
realized that what we face on a day to day level is so absurd that it's almost
inhuman to expect someone to manage it with the "self-care" most
people use with success. I also checked around and realized that almost
every single parent I know of a kid with severe special needs is getting some
sort of medical support for depression/anxiety. I like to think of myself
as SO special, but...apparently not so much. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Life
feels so much more manageable. The fears of judgement (from myself and others)
seem so silly knowing what I know on the other side. A good friend who
has a very similar personality went on an SSRI about a decade ago and when I
was picking her brain, one thing she said most that stuck with me was
"when I finally tried meds, I realized how much energy I had spent
just trying to keep my head above water. It wasn't until I could rest
that I realized how hard I'd been working and how little energy it left me for
all the other great things in life". Exactly. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
In
other news, in January we completed a neuropsych assessment for Simon to
investigate ADHD (with an AMAZING provider!) and Simon received his third
diagnosis- Inattentive ADHD. After much discussion and thought and great
conversations with our pediatrician, we decided to try meds. Holy
smokes. His behavior and grades went up a whole level almost
immediately. For the first time ever, after Spring Break, he didn't wake
up every morning asking "no school today"? He was actually almost
in tears that school was ENDING. After trying them on weekends and for
events a few times we decided they're a great tool for school but not for other
stuff. Again, sometimes meds can be awesome. Not such a popular
stance in lefty lesbo circles, but it's true. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br />
One other thing I learned this weekend at heart camp, related to autism, oddly,
kinda blew me away. David, one of Simon's nurses from his PICU stay 8+
years ago was working at camp. We were strolling down memory lane about
lots of sad and funny stuff and at one point I said, "do you remember how
when he was intubated he just chewed up Versed like it was candy?".
(His dose of the sedative would wear off WAY faster than normal, leading to
some creative thinking about ways to keep him sedated). David casually
said, "Oh yeah, kids with autism metabolize those kinds of drugs really
differently. We always have a really hard time trying to figure out how
to keep them sedated". <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br />
I just sort of stood there and stared at him. He was telling me Simon was
autistic even as a baby. That news sort of rocked my foundation. Simon is
so quirky and doesn't fit neatly into a lot of the diagnostic stuff around
autism so I've always sort of thought (for no real reason I can come up with)
that he's not actually autistic but has autistic-like behaviors that largely
stem from the trauma and interruption in development. Big whoop.
Makes no difference on the ground and I don't think I have stigma stuff
about autism, so why my brain has held onto this illogical origin story of his
quirks and delays, I don't know. There is new genetic data showing it's a
genetically coded trait (like schizophrenia or other brain function
differences) that can be there but inactive unless a trigger turns those
pathways on. Maybe heart disease-related trauma was the trigger.
Maybe he would have developed autism anyway. Who knows.
Mostly the whole thing really made me look at the thoughts I have about
the origin story of his autism and why my brain even thinks it matters. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br />
I also had the clever thought of, "Oh goody! If hospitals see infants who
metabolize Versed and similar drugs differently they can let the parents know
that's a marker of autism so they can be vigilant about screening".
I quickly realized that if a kid is needing Versed, the last thing the
parents need is one more thing to worry about and that that was probably a
horrible idea. Duh. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Onto
Laura:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Last
September Laura started a Hospital Chaplaincy program and has found her
calling. She absolutely adores it and is now seriously thinking about
doing a distance rabbinical school program. She's been doing such an
amazing job at her work that she received an award from the training hospital
for her excellence. I'm so proud I could just cry. She graduates
this August and will be on her way to becoming a Board Certified
Chaplain! Then we figure out the job thing. Whatever. She
found her life's work for this next decade at least. How many people do
you know that can say that? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
The
last update is that a week ago, Laura had somewhat emergent rotator cuff
surgery for a mysterious and pretty severe tear of her right shoulder.
The surgery went well but the whole thing sucks. She's looking at a long
road of pain and PT as she gets it back in shape. It was an interesting
test of the SSRI as she's had 2 other surgeries since Simon was born and both
times the whole thing sent me over the edge. This time I just rolled with
it and was appropriately stressed/anxious. Better for everyone!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
The short version is: Simon is medically stable, getting the developmental
supports he need and is as quirky and hilarious as ever. Laura is finding
her bliss professionally and dealing with some hard body stuff. I'm
finally able to enjoy life thanks to a much overdue and needed pharmaceutical
assist and figuring out how to slow down, be gentle and enjoy some of the
simpler things in life. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Life,
for now, is pretty good. <o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXD9-iUzlbfbHxiE4X1pNhsdAJhvvGJbo2a4SRSirJmQlvFWokPvWt1auJKKUH6myLQbV8VBwEeCHDBmvSQQKRdeBQlLPW6jYH8fo_9pwwhgEfyifjNGvWvFC3YQTjVl4oxF-unDz2eble/s1600/IMG_0420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="705" data-original-width="556" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXD9-iUzlbfbHxiE4X1pNhsdAJhvvGJbo2a4SRSirJmQlvFWokPvWt1auJKKUH6myLQbV8VBwEeCHDBmvSQQKRdeBQlLPW6jYH8fo_9pwwhgEfyifjNGvWvFC3YQTjVl4oxF-unDz2eble/s320/IMG_0420.JPG" width="252" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simon made Safety Patrol this year!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgahMsWeCoXkcSslC3Z3Gze3EbL9KGvkyM4bHNGAUVpVvSSZr9rqqo-xWeuEIT2qQr7TLtLaW2QH9RR81JFq6F4uifEtn4UpGCwJuZBP_NY55w1D_aqIZzmZBQwcomDHm6mt7VZQ7VdHIAI/s1600/IMG_0421.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgahMsWeCoXkcSslC3Z3Gze3EbL9KGvkyM4bHNGAUVpVvSSZr9rqqo-xWeuEIT2qQr7TLtLaW2QH9RR81JFq6F4uifEtn4UpGCwJuZBP_NY55w1D_aqIZzmZBQwcomDHm6mt7VZQ7VdHIAI/s320/IMG_0421.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Preparing to meet Voldemort, on our way to Orlando</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbpMWa0wigcTB82QNe1df8TIrUJdVVg9K4EpupgG-J7ZyrXij77kedM3byIKqyrcJPm3ECJoElErivX28FrClouO2DnwOkTadDcS3jWWocYO4zD8bonGg7j9rA4KuLyAvbFrj9IgBxIyzK/s1600/IMG_0422.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="576" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbpMWa0wigcTB82QNe1df8TIrUJdVVg9K4EpupgG-J7ZyrXij77kedM3byIKqyrcJPm3ECJoElErivX28FrClouO2DnwOkTadDcS3jWWocYO4zD8bonGg7j9rA4KuLyAvbFrj9IgBxIyzK/s320/IMG_0422.JPG" width="192" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Protecting the bus stop. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpIpXkf-QOOw_s-RWvO7E3NM1R4VpKChJGYFfDuwAQvTN736RHMDwLIo5GhtEEWfr8I7qrHuBUHuniBCfnpVfE8UsRygrMQEvhRq8Z6WlJTeURiY77siCjFOUhgaf_S02_Ma3p9OZUpHnJ/s1600/IMG_0423.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpIpXkf-QOOw_s-RWvO7E3NM1R4VpKChJGYFfDuwAQvTN736RHMDwLIo5GhtEEWfr8I7qrHuBUHuniBCfnpVfE8UsRygrMQEvhRq8Z6WlJTeURiY77siCjFOUhgaf_S02_Ma3p9OZUpHnJ/s320/IMG_0423.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging out with Max, our new buddy at the Oakland Zoo</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goofiest school photo!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting to cook with real chefs, through a great org called Coach Art</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Keeping Oakland's street safe</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Suiting up for the Farmer's Market. As you do. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Powering up for our flight. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAakTYsXxeHgf7JjKgaaGMsWLkl09LOx2O_aTC8uizNAvQhSOkWq0uzUW2qka5dwKpgtVR9HvpDtpPTiHwedJ6Ey4nZXv0wlaEDT7VKj6cOrSL4vu-pMCgjhMbZD7KPyLS-93xtyNsG9Pa/s1600/IMG_0410.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1246" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAakTYsXxeHgf7JjKgaaGMsWLkl09LOx2O_aTC8uizNAvQhSOkWq0uzUW2qka5dwKpgtVR9HvpDtpPTiHwedJ6Ey4nZXv0wlaEDT7VKj6cOrSL4vu-pMCgjhMbZD7KPyLS-93xtyNsG9Pa/s320/IMG_0410.JPG" width="249" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Makin' friends in Orlando. </td></tr>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-47879522934438265612016-08-01T22:03:00.001-07:002016-08-02T09:08:14.419-07:00Defying Gravity<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Today is the 8<sup>th</sup> anniversary of Simon getting diagnosed with Cardiomyopathy and our life going totally off the rails. I guess not “off” the rails, but definitely on a WAY different rail than we could have ever imagined. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Last night I had a visceral memory of being woken up by the sickly sweet smell of formula soaking Simon’s crib when the port on his feeding tube would pop open during an overnight feed and the entire contents of his stomach, plus what the pump was putting out, would end up all over the bed. In “Tubie” circles, it’s called “Feeding the Bed” and it’s the bane of every tube feeding family’s existence. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I lay there remembering how Laura and I would work like a finely oiled machine in the dark, pen lights firmly gripped in our mouths while one of us put a towel on the bed so we could change the soaking baby out of all his clothes and wipe him down while the other person changed and wiped down the crib. We could do the whole thing in under 5 minutes in the dark and not even wake the baby. When we were done, I knew I needed to be quiet for a few minutes because Laura would need to lay in the dark calculating how much extra food she could try to push into Simon the next day so he could grow. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My internal clock still jolts me alert every once in a while <a dir="ltr" href="x-apple-data-detectors://1" x-apple-data-detectors-result="1" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors="true">at 10 pm</a>, thinking it’s time to give Simon his dose of Lasix. Our kid hasn’t taken Lasix for at least four years. FOUR years and my body still remembers. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Last Sunday, Simon still hadn’t come into our room <a dir="ltr" href="x-apple-data-detectors://3" x-apple-data-detectors-result="3" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors="true">by 7:45 a.m.</a> (he’s usually up by 6 if he’s not sleeping in our bed). I lay in bed simultaneously grateful for the extra bit of sleep and half wondering if he died in his sleep. The second thought didn’t even register until, out of the quiet, Laura said, “is it terrible that I still wonder if he’s dead when he sleeps in?” We lay in bed curled around each other, willing ourselves enjoy our snuggle instead of getting up to assuage the relentless beast of worry. Ten minutes later, we heard Simon’s door open and we both breathed an audible sigh of relief and hauled ourselves out of bed to meet the day. This stuff is just woven into the fabric of our lives. This is what it still looks like 8 years later. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Tonight, as we do every year on August 1st, we delivered baked treats and a card/sign that has a "before" (Simon in the PICU) and "after" picture (Simon now) to the PICU staff. I got there before Laura and Simon and decided to sit outside on a bench in the sun. I leaned back, closed my eyes and immediately felt tears spring to my eyes. I remembered so vividly sitting in that same spot, warm sun on my skin, trying to find a moment of joy eight years ago. I still remember how good the sun felt when we were in the hospital. How good food tasted. How funny jokes were. How bright colors were. How much joy felt like joy and grief felt like grief. How simple everything was.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As we walked through the hospital tonight, I felt the calm, heavy, warm feeling I felt so often in the hospital. I didn't want to talk, I didn't want to move fast, I didn't want to do anything but just BE. It's not unlike the sleepy, heavy feeling I get when an airplane takes off, before the cabin pressure adjusts. It's like a little extra...gravity. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On August 1, 2008, Simon received a very grave diagnosis. We found ourselves overwhelmed by the gravity of the situation. I didn't really understand the meeting of those words in a lived sense until that day. It's not a bad feeling, this gravity. It's like a heavy blanket that slows you down so that everything feels very...simple. It overwhelms your senses until the busy fades into the background and all you can sense is the sun on your face or the sound of your son's breath or the ticking of a clock while you wait for news. There is a very strange way this felt liberating. There is a simple beauty in having to surrender. A relief at having no choices to make. A peace in knowing you have one job and one job only- to SHOW UP.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But the thing about gravity is that if you let it build and build and build it will crush you. There comes a time when you have to fight to get up, to get back in your lane even if it feels too fast, to rejoin life. There comes a time when you have to defy gravity. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Defying gravity has been the hardest part of the last 8 years. Sometimes trying to function like a "normal" person, at the speed required by our society, has felt like trying to get a jumbo jet off the ground with a hamster powered engine. It's a lot of fucking work and sometimes you're not sure it's going to happen. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">These last few days I've been remembering the sweetness and simplicity of our days in the hospital and also the sheer terror and trauma. There was a damn good reason we worked to hard to get out of there and stay out of there. Both/and. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This track we’ve ended up on has been brutal. I'm not going to lie. It’s left me feeling beaten and scarred and always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sometimes it feels like the intensity of the first few years of Simon's illness drained almost every ounce of emotional reserve I had accumulated throughout my lifetime. I feel like I aged 20 years in the last 8. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This track has also required me to connect to and depend on people in a way I never would have otherwise. It’s left me with a heart more wide open than I ever thought possible. I feel a comraderie and fierce love for other families with kids with big struggles that I never thought possible. Actually, for all of humanity that’s struggling. It’s the fierce love of an underdog for another underdog.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">These anniversaries are always so mixed for me. It’s painful to remember how hard it has been and such a good reminder of how far we’ve come. Simon is happy and healthy and totally unlike any other person I have ever met in my whole life. Laura and I are still going strong despite getting whacked with an absurd number of curveballs. We are loved and we are loving. Gravity is pushing and we are pushing back. We are defying odds and defying gravity.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That’s good enough for me today.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon, summing it up (with his cousin Francesca in the background):</span></div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-40643746088767860182016-04-08T16:38:00.000-07:002018-02-06T09:03:14.710-08:00Some Days & The Sum of Our Days<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Simon is turning 8 years old tomorrow. </div>
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Jaime and I, for the last week or so, have
remarked how we can’t quite believe it. It happens every year around this time
that like most parents, we can’t believe we’ve made it this far. And, like most
parents we remember when we thought we’d never leave the hospital with a live
child, or that he’d be heart stable and only on two meds and not twelve. Like
most parents we see this birthday and are once again amazed that he’s going to
eat his birthday cupcake by mouth instead of surgically inserted feeding tube.
Just like any other parent we’re concerned about his party and how his
classmates (and their parents) from his Special Day Class are going to mix with
our mostly queer friends and their mostly typically developing children. You know, stuff like that. But seriously, this time of year is both
amazing and wonder-full and incredibly hard.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s starts to percolate and simmer for me usually a week or
two before April 9<sup>th</sup>. This is that time, 8 years ago, that an
unsuspecting and very excited Laura, got to have 3 months and 3 weeks to be a ‘normal’
new mom with all of the insane feelings and questions and exhaustion that most
new moms feel. I worried about feeding and sleeping and pooping. Not much else.
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It’s a time when I think/grieve the coming August 1<sup>st</sup>
anniversary when it all came crashing down. It feels so strange to know now
that those 3 months and three weeks, as intense as they seemed to be, were
nothing, nothing at all, compared to what the next 4 months/7+ years would be
like. I didn’t even know what a G-tube
was. Hard to believe that there wasn’t a time that I didn’t know about that but
there wasn’t. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Then there’s the reality of the present. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We are about to celebrate 8 years of Simon on this earth. He
is amazing. He is wackadoodle crazy. He is funny as hell. He is infuriating. He’s
sometimes such a mystery and other times so predictable it’s scary.<o:p></o:p></div>
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He is changing and growing in so many ways. He’s autistic. He’s atypical. He’s into Power
Rangers like I used to be into Michael Jackson. He’s losing teeth with new ones
coming in at all sorts of crazy angles. He’s learning to shake his butt and is
competing in his first Kung Fu tournament tomorrow. His pragmatic speech and
ability to converse is growing by leaps and bounds and when there’s a big
transition coming up his scripting/echolalia and chirping increase
exponentially. (A friend and fellow mom of a child with Autism and I were
laughing last night about how it’s true for our kids that “sometimes they seem
soooo autistic and other times we’re like ‘meh….they seem kind of normal.’)
Simon is now able to get his haircut without being held down and even attended
Spring Break camp this year without a single incident (3 days with an ABA aide
and two days without!). He wakes up
almost every night and comes into our bed. He has mood swings and still can’t
tell you what’s bothering him. He’s not attached to certain things that you
think he might be and bonded to other things that I wouldn’t expect in a
million years. He can remember names and places from years ago but can’t tell
you how he got that bruise on his face (any parent’s nightmare). He’s reading.
He likes spicy foods. He’s got those
bright blue eyes that sometimes sparkle like perfectly cut sapphires. He loves
the attention of older females and is a master at drawing said females to him.
He loves spending time with his Mama playing with his action figures on his bed
in his room. He learned how to take his medications in pill form this year but
still gags throughout most meals-just because. He loves music. And burps. And farts.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Being his mom is so hard. It’s exhausting and there’s no
mastering it. It’s also so right and
exactly what I’m supposed to be doing. I don’t understand it at all but when he’s
lying next to me and throws his arm over me half asleep, it’s the easiest thing
in the world. When he repeats “I like big butts and I cannot lie” in public for
the 15<sup>th</sup> time in five minutes it’s a little harder.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The world is a better place for having Simon Lev in it. My
world is better; more complicated, full, deeply brutiful, and rich. Thank
you Jaime for staying strapped in on the roller coaster with me. Thank you Simon for being exactly who you are
and continuing to become the perfect you.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And thank you to everyone that supports just that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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A long long time ago, in a galaxy far far away...</div>
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Checking out the Gibbons at the Zoo, like we do.</div>
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First Hair Cut in 2 years</div>
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Touring the Fire Station</div>
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after delivering them homemade cupcakes</div>
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Driving the Tiller Rig</div>
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With a thermal sensor</div>
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50+ pounds of gear</div>
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On the Job!</div>
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Watching The Chipmunks on TV</div>
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Likely embarrassed by something Mama and Mommy did/said</div>
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Almost 8 and beautiful</div>
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Happy Birthday Simon Lev!!</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-17679911549254519752016-03-01T21:30:00.003-08:002016-03-01T21:30:49.347-08:00Poster Child, Part Deux<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So...our kid is a Children's Hospital Oakland (CHO) poster child again. Literally. On posters.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks to Laura's willingness to tell some important people at CHO some hard truths about our experiences at their institution, Simon might help save some lives.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">CHO, like many hospitals, is struggling to get people to wash their hands. It's tricky to figure out exactly how to get busy, stressed out, tired people to remember to so something so boring so many times a day. And, in a hospital, unwashed hands can equal death, disability, suffering, pain, and trauma. We know firsthand (no pun intended). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When the team working on this issue realized they needed to make it personal for the staff, Laura decided to offer up our story as a possible tool. Simon got septic three times in the four months he was in the hospital. Each one was almost certainly due to a lack of handwashing by SOMEONE in the hospital. Maybe it was us. Maybe it was the staff. Who knows. But someone had dirty hands and it nearly killed him. Three times. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Laura was the genius that came up with "Simon says 'wash your hands'" Brilliant, right?!? I </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The hospital had piloted a few cartoon mock ups of signs, etc but we had not seen the final materials until tonight. Something about seeing those photos of him and having our story right there for everyone to see made me feel...resilient. For the first time in a LONG time, I felt successful in the face of trauma. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been thinking a lot about resilience lately. I've been deep in the trenches doing some heavy emotional work on trauma, both from Simon's illness and also earlier stuff. I've been feeling just...awful. Fear, shame and humiliation about feeling afraid, shame and humiliation about feeling ashamed and humiliated because it feels like weakness and admitting defeat to feel afraid and then stupid to feel ashamed of feeling afraid- you get the picture. An emotional fun house. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When Laura texted me pictures of the posters that are going up around Children's Hospital Oakland, I felt proud. Really proud. I couldn't quite tell what I felt proud about until the word "resilience" popped into my head and I had a mini-epiphany. For so long I've thought that resilience means coming out of a battle unscathed, unscarred, untouched. Coming through the clouds and dusting your shoulders off having hardly broken a sweat, grinning victoriously. For years, this idea of resilience equaling Teflon is where I've gotten tripped up. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All the hard, scary awful things that have happened to me have left a mark. They've changed and shaped and bruised and even gouged me. But, I am beginning to realize, being marked doesn't mean that I failed or lost or am weak or fragile or damaged.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our story on those posters is a tangible marker of resilience. We decided to use the worst thing that has ever happened to us as a tool. Tonight I really got that resilience is NOT not feeling. It's taking those feelings and that information and those experiences and USING them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I will probably always have a heightened fear response when Simon gets a fever. I will never forget what he looked like with a fever of 107. It was one of the most terrifying moments of my life. That's okay. Resilience doesn't mean that I won't get scared. I will probably have feelings every time I see that poster. It was awful. But I'm totally willing to see that poster ever time I go into those buildings because resilience means I get to mix some pride in with that fear and put it all to good use. </span><br />
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-1061954268310999792016-01-09T01:03:00.002-08:002016-01-09T01:03:44.783-08:00Lordy, Lordy, Look Who's Forty<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">On Tuesday I turned forty years old. Forty! I...well, I just...yeah. Wow. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I've been thinking about how I wanted to mark this birthday for a long time. I decided to do a series of smaller events, have one-on-one dates with friends and make plans over the year to do a bunch of things I've wanted to do for decades (go to the French Laundry, do a week long course at the Culinary Institute of America in Napa, and a few other things I haven't even dreamed up yet). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I've been doing some personal coaching sessions with <a href="http://www.gettherecoaching.com/" target="_blank">Get There Coaching</a> and had some tremendous epiphanies that are extremely well timed. (Kendra is crazy talented and has a real has a gift for this work. If you are thinking about doing any kind of personal coaching work, I'd really think about working with her. We've done all our work over the phone, so you don't have to be in the Bay Area!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> The two most useful things I've come to is that a) I need to have more fun. Lots of it. Whenever I can. I need to shift things around to make room for fun and choose it when it's there. I've started putting together a Fun Committee for my life. One friend is in charge of getting me out to swing dance events (pretty much my favorite activity in the world). Another friend is tasked with getting us to a trampoline park, WITHOUT our children. I have plans to rope in a few other friends for other fun stuff. Gonna make this happen. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The second really useful piece that came out of the coaching is a personal mission statement that I was able to distill down to 3 words: Justice, Zest, Rest. In addition to justice (what I do for work and 90% of what I talk about on Facebook and fun (Zest), I am really starting try to <u>rest</u> when I can. I'm starting to take my grandmother's advice to heart: "Why stand when you can sit, why sit when you can lie?" I'm trying to say no to more things so I can rest and make room for fun. We'll see how it all goes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The other thing I decided I wanted to do for my 40th was launch a community kindness project I've been thinking about for a bit, so on Jan 5th, I launched a <a href="https://www.gofundme.com/Tikkuntokens" target="_blank">Gofundme</a> campaign for my project called <a href="http://www.tikkuntokens.org/" target="_blank">Tikkun Tokens</a>! Tikkun Tokens are free wooden tokens I'm having made that can be used to recognize someone's act of kindness. <span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">I l</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">oved the idea of a simple tool people could use to recognize another person's act of kindness and that can be used as a small act of kindness in itself. I wanted to root this project in the value I hold most dear, "Tikkun Olam", or repair of the world. </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> It is my most core belief that we can all be ambassadors of goodness and repair as we walk through the world. My hope is that these tokens help people do that work. </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> You can order your own set of tokens here: </span><span style="line-height: 24px;"><a href="http://www.tikkuntokens.org/get-tokens-to-share.html">http://www.tikkuntokens.org/get-tokens-to-share.html</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The last decade was a bit, shall we say, INTENSE. I learned a tremendous amount about myself and suffered quite a lot of trauma. As things are stabilizing with Simon and I'm starting new decade, I am really trying to shift my point of reference from all that has been hard to all that is going well and to the hopes and dreams I have for my own life, not just Simon's. Here goes! </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn_ZnMrjJ_nYWhNVSl4S7kMb4WngIVbaKc8KqR5NHyYvDQLO5PydPJjxvl4ck1EIZnT_PBoOxvF6aE41D9Yk7X6Y4OFObNZXlUkd9wxvZX0tQ6OU0GM0Gf26fCKnfNMCQ1Rk17B0w0CbvO/s1600/12509207_10153850276893887_3064724371163332697_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn_ZnMrjJ_nYWhNVSl4S7kMb4WngIVbaKc8KqR5NHyYvDQLO5PydPJjxvl4ck1EIZnT_PBoOxvF6aE41D9Yk7X6Y4OFObNZXlUkd9wxvZX0tQ6OU0GM0Gf26fCKnfNMCQ1Rk17B0w0CbvO/s1600/12509207_10153850276893887_3064724371163332697_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting fancy for a birthday dinner!</td></tr>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-29567736494213669842015-12-21T15:56:00.001-08:002018-02-06T09:03:34.513-08:00A Force Awakens and Some Serious Change is Afoot<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I can't buy into all the Star Wars hype even though it was a terribly enjoyable film to watch. I don't like that a PG13 film is being so heavily marketed to kids far too young to see the movie. But I will say that in the last few days there has been some serious action in the Force.<br />
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Simon has had an amazing 4 days where purely by accident, and years of work, he has been getting himself dressed in the morning...by himself!<br />
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For years, we've been working on daily living skills with getting dressed being one of the first that's required at the start of the day. Last Thursday something clicked. Jaime and I talked about it and decided that we should try something different to avoid the morning melt down after breakfast. Since Simon was a spectacular eater now, why not get dressed first, eat, and then have free time for tv or ipad with plenty of transition time to get out the door.<br />
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No clue if it would work or not. We often have no clue what will work or not with Simon. And that's just fine. It's all practice anyway. Good practice.<br />
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So, I had picked out his clothes and placed them in a pile next to him with his shoes nearby on the floor. Underwear, socks, pants, long sleeve shirt and a short sleeve shirt to go over it for extra warmth now that winter has hit. I asked him to get started taking his pajamas off and that I would be right back after a trip to the loo. <br />
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From my perch in the bathroom I can see his head and not much else. I hear him taking off his pajamas and alternately cursing me and mumbling to himself for the next few minutes. The mumbling starts to sound clearer and mixed in with the "you're fired" and "mommy is terrible" I hear "that's my underwear" and "I'm doing it". Almost at exactly the same time that I'm coming back into the living room Simon exclaims "I got dressed all by myself!" and damn if it wasn't true. He had everything on, even his shoes. I couldn't catch my breath. I didn't know what to do with myself. What normally takes 20 minutes and dozens of prompts and the occasional putting on of pants/shirts/socks backwards, had taken about 5 minutes with none of the aforementioned. And the boy knew what he did. He was proud of himself. There's not much sweeter than Simon's tone when he exclaims "I did it myself!"<br />
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It's six simple steps that most of us, even most 7 year olds, take for granted. Underwear, socks, pants, two shirts, and a pair of shoes. That morning 4 days ago, Simon summit-ed a mountain. He graduated. He flew. He got dressed by himself.<br />
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For those of you that have kids with special needs, ya feel me?<br />
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Jaime and I had just had some very hard conversations (spurred on by estate planning and Last Will & Testaments and such) about how Simon may or may not be able to live independently. He's a funny guy. So smart and engaged in the world in so many ways. He's also a mystery and challenged by a world that's not set up for the special kind of guy he is. He thrives and he struggles. He continues to take us right to the edge of our understanding of him and then blows ours minds and hearts wide open.<br />
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It may not sound like much to you but when I say that Simon got himself dressed, that day, and every day since, it's sounds like a symphony to me.<br />
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So there was that.<br />
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That same day, I got a call.<br />
<br />
It was from the Alta Bates/Summit Health C.P.E program letting me know that I'd been accepted into the 2016/17 Residency Program for Chaplaincy. It's been three years since I did my first unit (of 4) of Chaplaincy training. It was a deep affirmation of work that I've felt called to do even long before Simon went into the hospital. Providing attention and support for people was what got me into social work back in 2000 but I never felt that was 'it'. I loved being with children and adults doing both clinical and case management work but missed the spiritual and emotional connection that was present during my summers at Farm & Wilderness where Quaker practice was present every day.<br />
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Chaplaincy, once I learned about it, felt like a calling. It was an opportunity to share my experiences, skills, and passions with people, all kinds of people, that really needed support and connection. It included anti-oppression work, it included play and sometimes even singing, it included the Spirit, and deep self reflection. I was in. It was some of the hardest 6 months of my life and was so rigorously perfect for me but not sustainable. Simon still had feeding therapy, Occupational Therapy, Speech Therapy, and Physical Therapy every week. He was dependent on tube feedings and still newly out of heart failure with concerns about immunity. He had been newly diagnosed with Autism and we were just getting started with ABA therapy. There was a lot going on.<br />
<br />
These days it feels like we are in a groove. Jaime is 4 months into an awesome job with a great boss and team. Simon is settled into a great school and classroom that both challenges and supports him. There are no tube feedings, tantrums have been decreased, and we have play dates where there's actually playing. While Jaime and I have both been dealing with depression, we are also working on it and trying to be gentle with each other. <br />
<br />
So, I decided that it was time to think about going back and finishing my Chaplaincy program. It means working 40 hours a week, plus three 24 on-call shifts a month, with weekly papers, process meetings and didactic lessons. This is not your average program. With six other residents, the year long program is one of the most intense internal and interpersonal programs I have ever seen or been a part of. I am so ready...and terrified.<br />
<br />
It's been almost 8 years since I've been really truly back in the workforce and even then I was only working four days a week with summers and school holidays off. It's also a little thrilling to think about contributing financially to the family once again. It may not be much more than a residency stipend but it's something. I'm excited to be working with people, have a cohort and be giving and receiving feedback. I'm so ready. I know it's 9 months away but it's there. A change is going to come.<br />
<br />
Simon will have childcare for at least 2 hours after school M-F, he'll have 2 full time working parents and who knows how that's going to work? We don't. We've never done it before. My work has been taking care of him and the home. The latter being the less time consuming one. So many what if's come to my head. So many unknowns. Lots of parents do it. Lots of parents of kids with special needs do it. It's been a great privilege and luxury to have been able to <i>not </i>do it for the last 8 years. So much gratitude to Bernie & Eileen, Dianne & Ed, Bruce & Nola, Barry & Larry and everyone else that has helped make it possible for me to be a stay-at-home mom. It's been a gift. And harder than anything I could have imagined. I'm ready. I want this. It's so exciting that it's going to happen. Nine months is a great amount of time to get ready to have my life significantly rocked. Our family is going to work it out. I have faith.<br />
.....get it? I'm going to be a Chaplain...faith. It's funny right?<br />
<br />
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I have to give some props to Jaime who has been holding it together during my surgery, weaning from the nerve drugs, application process, mood swings and all that other great stuff that's been happening for the last several months. Our parents, our community, chosen/blood/heart family have all gotten us to this point. We may have more surgeries, hospitalizations, dark clouds, and puberty ahead of us but we will continue to work hard at choosing and harnessing the Light Side of the Force.<br />
<br />
There I said it. I still won't take Simon to see the movie. It <i>was </i>good though.<br />
<br />
Here's to a new year full of adventure, joy, wonder, learning, loving, and connection.<br />
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Much love<br />
<br />
<br />
...and some photos of the Dickens Faire with GG and G'Paw<br />
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I may not be Naughty but I salute your lifestyle choice</div>
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Battling with PickPockets</div>
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Chimney Sweep Challenge!</div>
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Holding Court</div>
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Joining the Ranks</div>
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Preparing for my Fencing Lesson</div>
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Oh she's good!</div>
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But no match for me! (Actually she's the #2 Fencer in the State!)</div>
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Proud Protege</div>
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Getting and giving some fairy love.</div>
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Merry Season to all!<br />
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-49700205999236949902015-10-12T21:17:00.003-07:002015-10-12T21:43:34.818-07:00A Decade<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
On October 22nd, Laura and I will have been married for a decade. Ten years of wedded bliss. And trauma and intense personal growth and community building.<br />
<br />
We decided to throw ourselves a party. A big one. Like 100 people big. Cuz...go big or go home, right? <br />
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That seemed like a great idea when I booked the location 4 months ago, before I stumbled into ye old pit of despair and before Laura herniated a disc in her neck (more about that soon, I'm sure, as she's scheduled for surgery a week from today). About 3 weeks ago, I had a total and complete freak out. Like, "I don't care if we lose the deposit, I want to cancel the party" freak out. An "it all feels like too much work and something will go wrong and it will all be ruined and I'm just going to end up disappointed and you're so grumpy from being in pain and on pain meds that I'm not even sure I can pull it together to LIKE you at our party so let's just call the party off RIGHT NOW", kind of freak out.<br />
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That was actually the night I figured out I was depressed, because one thing I know is that my life is better with Laura in it and I want the world to know that and we have an amazing community and I love food and I instantly fall head over heels again when Laura does her adorable faux goofy-but-actually-really-hot dance moves, so if I didn't want that, then something was seriously wrong. It was a kind of useful freak out, as freak outs go.<br />
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So...we had the party. And it. Was. Perfect. Not disappointing. Not even a tiny bit. A few folks I really hoped would be there didn't make it and I hardly got to talk to the ones that did, but there was enough food to feed an army and bands of kids were running around wild and happy and the adults all looked relaxed and smiling and dancing (thank you Kris Woolery for the most bad ass playlist!).<br />
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One thing I hadn't really planned was clean up. I figured I would just do it myself. I know...it tells you a lot about my psychology. As the end of the evening approached I started looking around and realized how much work it was going to be. Before I could start to get into work mode, our dear friend Saun-Toy grabbed Laura and I and the 10 or so friends left. She pulled us into a circle and proceeded to start the most beautiful shower of love and affirmation for us. After folks gifted us with some of the most powerful and lovely words I have ever received, a group of 3 stayed and clean up was done in 20 minutes. I didn't have to ask for help. It just...happened.<br />
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Our last friends walked out the door as my new favorite song came on - "What Do You Mean" by Justin Beiber (I have no shame. I know I turn 40 in 3 months,but I'm a Belieber. Whaddya gonna do?). Laura grabbed me for a slow dance and I melted into a puddle of tears. When I pulled it together I managed to squeak out "I just feel so SEEN. It's the thing I wanted most growing up and it's really happening. They really see us and what we're trying to do". As Laura kissed me softly on the forehead and drew me in closer, I was filled with an overwhelming sense of contentment. I haven't felt that feeling in...years. <br />
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As we close out an incredibly difficult decade, I am finding myself feeling so hopeful about the decade to come. During the silent meeting we had the morning of our party, an analogy came to me that summed up what I think this last decade was about. Laura's grandmother was a sculptor and she described sculpting not as creating something, but taking away the excess so that the form could show itself. I feel like what has happened over the last decade, starting with Laura's head injury a few months before our wedding and continuing through all that it's meant to be a parent of a medically fragile kid, have revealed both who we are as a couple and who I am as a person. There were a few places where we got gouged too deeply, FOR SURE, but mostly I'm realizing that this decade was about clarifying who I am and what I stand for and what is important to me and the same for us as a couple and as a family. <br />
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My vision for the next decade is that life will smooth out those rough edges left from the first pass, sand away the deep gouges and buff us with gentle strokes until we shine. Cuz, if life comes at me with another chisel anytime soon I'm going to have to kick some serious ass. I'm serious. Hand to hand combat. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Otis and Simon's Godmamas lookin SHARP!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was another food and drink table besides this!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my Papa and his too-cool-for-school pants</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kids!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiCFnRQbxwXH1sR_Cz0YD_2wBgI9Banhwee5CNnE5X9axAFawW4GHexZwDEZfzSC5S04no8RPpHsgGYFx2RsrEMdwv71vlPaxW1d8Cwqpckr6NPcoXUWZG1hyphenhyphen2rn61MLvzghyphenhyphenbTeGu172j/s1600/019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiCFnRQbxwXH1sR_Cz0YD_2wBgI9Banhwee5CNnE5X9axAFawW4GHexZwDEZfzSC5S04no8RPpHsgGYFx2RsrEMdwv71vlPaxW1d8Cwqpckr6NPcoXUWZG1hyphenhyphen2rn61MLvzghyphenhyphenbTeGu172j/s320/019.JPG" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my Mama</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The fabulous Cherry</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who says parents of kids with special needs can't have a good time?!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Parental units</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SQUEEZE!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOLrG9RxQcm4KYoLktscfCoUC9WqNgB62XEH2PYMbkoBCin3M3P1T3MnpUxC5CTyzyJHlsNj-0mwxOoxcWh0W2h8uL6wskUwb3qt52HmmzSbSKkCV2nLg3uCJ6KyWlXtuAFXqW8Mfh6UCn/s1600/036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOLrG9RxQcm4KYoLktscfCoUC9WqNgB62XEH2PYMbkoBCin3M3P1T3MnpUxC5CTyzyJHlsNj-0mwxOoxcWh0W2h8uL6wskUwb3qt52HmmzSbSKkCV2nLg3uCJ6KyWlXtuAFXqW8Mfh6UCn/s320/036.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't even know what is happening with Laura's face here. But Pete looks lovely!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYDeUt3i40nNcQvlk0wJa-lNe68eeqit91PVldecGUGa63dlmMoo0jNZxK_ZydZ7r5WzpPTjjK6XGGZV9fKjYs134X9EQghm9Rp6foCYK8Ev_d8Rj6kNWJK3d4dSHscBUJ11y9xlgVm1I9/s1600/042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYDeUt3i40nNcQvlk0wJa-lNe68eeqit91PVldecGUGa63dlmMoo0jNZxK_ZydZ7r5WzpPTjjK6XGGZV9fKjYs134X9EQghm9Rp6foCYK8Ev_d8Rj6kNWJK3d4dSHscBUJ11y9xlgVm1I9/s320/042.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simon's Dunkle Mike!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cousins Uma and Girija who travelled over an hour to be there!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Girls dancin!</td></tr>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-72138359897534986192015-09-29T23:09:00.000-07:002015-09-30T07:08:33.490-07:00Depression Is An Asshole<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It really is. It's the annoying friend of a friend that crashes on your couch for a night and ends up staying for years. It stealthily snitches fistfuls of joy when you've turned your back and holds it's hands over your eyes when you're trying to see the sunset. It's the kill-joy guy that shoots down every good idea you have and nods with a smug "yeah, sure you are" expression when you say you're going to get up off the couch littered with junk food wrappers and go do something fun.<br />
<br />
I realized last week that I'm depressed I've had moments of feeling depressed over the past 7 years, but always chalked it up to the incredibly depressing, stressful situations we kept being in. Now that the dust has mostly settled, I'm realizing I'm still overwhelmed/un-enthused/disappointed-in-advance about almost everything I set out to do. <br />
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It threw me to realize that what I'm experiencing is depression because my go-to concept of depression is severe, clinical, debilitating depression. I don't feel despair. I don't feel angst. I don't feel suicidal. I just feel...bored. Like nothing is interesting. Like nothing is going to work out or be what I hope it will be, so why bother trying. Once I articulated it out loud to someone the other day, the lightbulb went off. <br />
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It was great, actually to realized that the problem isn't my life, it's my feelings. THAT I can do something about. When Mr. Wah-Wah starts up, I've started to think "that's just the depression talking" and sometimes the bad feelings blow away like fog. And...sometimes, not so much. But sometimes is better than never.<br />
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I was watching a video of a war veteran today for work (I now do policy work related to homelessness) and there was something about the flat expression on her face that made me start to tear up. I recognized that face. That's the face of someone who has been through trauma. At one point she said "you can't come back from war...and just be a civilian, be normal again. It's not possible." Sitting at my desk, I heard myself say out loud, "EXACTLY". My outside face doesn't look like hers, but my inside one does. <br />
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The more time that passes, the more I realize the long-term effects Simon's medical trauma had on Laura and I. I don't know what war feels like, but I know what the unrelenting threat of death feels like and I think they might be cousins.<br />
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The hair-trigger fear that used to flare when Simon got the sniffles or I smelled hospital soap on my hands has quieted down, but the unshakable feeling that I shouldn't get my hopes up because something disappointing/traumatic/upsetting/frustrating will likely happen is borne of those years and years of the steps back between the steps forward. Yes, we moved forward and Simon is a walking, talking, playing, joking, eating miracle, but those backwards steps back have taken their toll.<br />
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In our Cardiomyopathy Listserv, we often joke about how the majority of us parents are on anti-depressants or anti-anxiety meds or should be. For a long time I have thought that because depression is expected in our situation it should be tolerated, but I think I'm getting clear that the Debbie Downer in my head needs to take a hike. <br />
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I have some good supports in place that I need to make better use of, including writing on this blog. If I have learned anything from the experience of parenting a medically fragile child it's that naming the hard, scary stuff out loud takes some of its power away. <br />
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Over and out.<br />
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-62616892006732424822015-08-04T22:03:00.000-07:002015-08-05T13:43:23.907-07:00The Stork is Coming!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Every once in a while, someone will ask Laura or I if we plan on having any other kids. The answer has always been a definitive "No". Some days my answer is "Hell no!". I adore our kid but he is the work of one and a half kids and we're barely keeping it together as it is. The only way we're able to keep it all together is with the absurd amounts of support from our family and friends. Particularly Andreana and Joan, Simon's godmothers.<br>
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I did not grow up in a religious family so when we started talking about having Godparents for our kid, I thought of it mostly as "these are the people we've decided should take in our kid if we both get hit by a bus". I had no thoughts of what Godparents might do beyond show up in my hypothetical tragedy. <br>
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It's just as well I didn't think too much about it because I couldn't begin to imagine all the ways Andreana and Joan have showed up for our family. They logged countless hours in the hospital with Simon when he was a baby. They are the ones I called to take Laura to the hospital at 3 am when she was having a gall bladder attack so that I could stay with Simon. They learned how to do tube feedings and give meds and changed diapers for YEARS. They are the only other people besides my mother who have taken him on overnights. They are the first people we call when we have a sudden pothole in childcare and there has never been a time that they turned down a request unless they absolutely had to. They are as close in with us as one family can get to another.<br>
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Another thing to know about these two is that they have been trying to have a child for years. Not one or two years. YEARS. They have both endured expensive, painful, unpleasant infertility treatments, paid crazy fees to adoption agencies, been grilled and inspected and assessed by government officials to determine if they are "suitable". It's been grueling. So grueling that they were getting really close to saying "I give" and being done with the ceaseless brutality of trying to become parents in the face of countless obstacles. So close they had almost set a firm deadline for the date the grind would stop. And then....<br>
<br>
And then some magic happened. Out of the blue, the birth mother of their dreams picked them. Oh, by the way, she's due In less than 2 weeks!<br>
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Because of the tight timeline, our beloved framily members are facing unexpected costs, including a hefty out-of-state fee from the birth mother's adoption agency that can normally be avoided by having the birth mother come to the state of the adoptive parents, but...no cross country travelling when you're 8 1/2 months pregnant!<br>
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As a tiny way of helping give back to these two amazing women who are at the very core of Team Shimmy and helped us and Simon all stay alive, we have started a Gofundme page to help raise money for their additional costs. If any of you readers have been wondering about concrete ways to help Team Shimmy, here is your chance. <br>
<br>
<a href="http://www.gofundme.com/Andreana-Joanbaby">http://www.gofundme.com/Andreana-Joanbaby</a><br>
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These two people define what it means to show up for someone else. I can't wait to get a chance to try to balance the scales when the newest member of our family arrives.<br>
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Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!! We're having a baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the courtroom just after I adopted Simon</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIlEUzc03QoD_c0dz8LkLpohzFM5sjM0iZH1GfDj5ghfQ3Mrxgf9l2BWlZNjg78QR-YxBL_1hV6ontSMWm297MGM7xqER8-JclzDl7a_IoW_HC3W6RVBF_JVMx_I5OrKPZJhLDFyGRIQZX/s1600/wedding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIlEUzc03QoD_c0dz8LkLpohzFM5sjM0iZH1GfDj5ghfQ3Mrxgf9l2BWlZNjg78QR-YxBL_1hV6ontSMWm297MGM7xqER8-JclzDl7a_IoW_HC3W6RVBF_JVMx_I5OrKPZJhLDFyGRIQZX/s320/wedding.jpg" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At our wedding at the hospital </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7unImYHncU4aNcorPl31jKigXu71WwjyP61ZvsA2qGyedn1FF1_2NqWmYOI_Z7miEcoU-Kdag5mLS0a5MzYDJoV7cTMqWQgtp36qkk9pnusK70FqayTNY9HT9nxRmE4swSIjLEyJf9gMZ/s1600/photo+%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7unImYHncU4aNcorPl31jKigXu71WwjyP61ZvsA2qGyedn1FF1_2NqWmYOI_Z7miEcoU-Kdag5mLS0a5MzYDJoV7cTMqWQgtp36qkk9pnusK70FqayTNY9HT9nxRmE4swSIjLEyJf9gMZ/s320/photo+%25281%2529.JPG" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the hospital when Simon had ear tube surgery</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdxPm0PXCcyZgIE1Cpya5hmLg29VrA2EILAQ3kZ2D41XeOoU6p6wZ3En3JoKngqslALWrIIKz-Z0wV0hbVl8WiFhuMaWr6uAXPraTYyu9_wqHtRb9ee36-l50lBPEil1weQv3GhLggr89k/s1600/Halloween.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdxPm0PXCcyZgIE1Cpya5hmLg29VrA2EILAQ3kZ2D41XeOoU6p6wZ3En3JoKngqslALWrIIKz-Z0wV0hbVl8WiFhuMaWr6uAXPraTYyu9_wqHtRb9ee36-l50lBPEil1weQv3GhLggr89k/s320/Halloween.jpg" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smoochin with Auntie Dre</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0WBFBNryuMy7DnVQg7cWeVLJ_S8W9u4Q3EPMKSxbmxH-09lm7LxoDO8dc0b7vUScm_Zn0Lzf78n-TLrSJ3MdeSDQZVcZhtgKA_5Zb5jkP9WgF8LSMozeOOk9Encl2YQYJjnijnmvoKIpk/s1600/21837_1365212091938_3189189_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0WBFBNryuMy7DnVQg7cWeVLJ_S8W9u4Q3EPMKSxbmxH-09lm7LxoDO8dc0b7vUScm_Zn0Lzf78n-TLrSJ3MdeSDQZVcZhtgKA_5Zb5jkP9WgF8LSMozeOOk9Encl2YQYJjnijnmvoKIpk/s320/21837_1365212091938_3189189_n.jpg" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At city hall, marking Joan and Andreana's domestic partnership</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWv7AGtBKBwQAU-ajOR8jIiJeoTN6TM4s-ddH6nVZ2HF71w6JZz0MGxs2TSK96goTGU4VK1l4LCJFFCfYVXC3LEOZvNvbcWTMxdejBOx09wlvKKgNzbtZOce46GU9G7gGDDVZACeOdSYX4/s1600/208951_375262389189031_608944247_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWv7AGtBKBwQAU-ajOR8jIiJeoTN6TM4s-ddH6nVZ2HF71w6JZz0MGxs2TSK96goTGU4VK1l4LCJFFCfYVXC3LEOZvNvbcWTMxdejBOx09wlvKKgNzbtZOce46GU9G7gGDDVZACeOdSYX4/s320/208951_375262389189031_608944247_n.jpg" width="237"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goo goo eyes with Auntie Joan</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4YwmMww6bmJnsqMjPErc1jqemX9X2cBzVXHltstjHKmcvTFPOIMgsX7Juw9rOjsAUd_eLpzLtgDFTf34CMk4YmKmxoLrV9QRHJLqnUrD5xiFWw4uQkoui4xFXlMBINO-sPvy4ZGi5uzdL/s1600/881900_10151341432153616_1770612244_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4YwmMww6bmJnsqMjPErc1jqemX9X2cBzVXHltstjHKmcvTFPOIMgsX7Juw9rOjsAUd_eLpzLtgDFTf34CMk4YmKmxoLrV9QRHJLqnUrD5xiFWw4uQkoui4xFXlMBINO-sPvy4ZGi5uzdL/s320/881900_10151341432153616_1770612244_o.jpg" width="238"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baking!</td></tr>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-7865296862625739372015-07-28T12:32:00.002-07:002015-07-28T12:51:38.458-07:00Friends...How Many of Us Have them...?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I always have.<br>
In Nursery school there was Cindy. She and I would play 'Happy Days', strutting around the place like we owned it. I was always Fonzie (naturally) and she would often be my girlfriend but sometimes Pottsy.<br>
<br>
In Kindergarten there was Kobe and Gabe. When Gabe moved to Australia and Kobe didn't show up for first grade I remember feeling lost. Iris, Lisa, Susie, Pninit and Judy quickly became my posse and Ari (the Principals son- I don't fool around) quickly became an important partner in crime.<br>
In 5th grade Adina and I became best friends being the top two girl dodge ball players in the school.<br>
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High School was all about John, Tessa, Brian, Rachel and Carly. College meant actually living with your friends and Maia, Melissa, Hannah, Winter, Alicia, Anna and so many more filled me with as much joy as the learning and playing. Through it all were camp friends, Josie, Zoe, Polly, Sam....<br>
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California meant keeping up those college friends while making new ones from work, friends of friends, random dog park conversations, and the process of creating community through trauma and joyful moments.<br>
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I believe more than most things, that connection has kept me alive. Through being teased and bullied, coming out, through motorcycles & horses, and of course through my son's diagnoses and growing up challenges, it's been the people in my life that have gone beyond keeping me grounded, they have kept me thriving.<br>
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It has been one of the hardest things to watch my son have the opposite experience; until now.<br>
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About 6 weeks ago Simon started camp at the YMCA in Berkeley. He went there last summer for one week before starting another camp for the entire summer. 8 Weeks of Camp Kee Tov was spectacular for him and we saw him grow in leaps and bounds. He loved his counselors. He loved the singing and the Ruach (spirit) of it. He connected with some of the older kids and even had a day or three of hanging with a boy his age.<br>
<br>
This summer has been different. Simon went to Y Camp for the week after school ended and then we headed off to Yosemite. Simon came home a week early and got right back to Y camp without missing a beat (ok he missed one week). He was signed up for 4 more weeks and then we had registered him for the last 4 week session at Kee Tov given how great a time he had there last summer. In my mind, we were kind of waiting for Kee Tov. They had done such an amazing job job last year working with his quirks and he clearly had great love for that place.<br>
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I forgot to mention that when I had dropped Simon off at Y camp during that first week of the summer, I asked to talk to his counselors and Unit head just to give them a heads up on heart stuff and autism stuff.<br>
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DJ listened carefully to the heart stuff but then started smiling as I went into the autism stuff. She said she worked with kids on the spectrum during the school year for Oakland Unified and not only did she get Simon, she was going to guarantee right then and there that Simon was going to have a great summer. She gave me her cell number and sent me on my way assuring me that she would be working closely with our ABA team and Simon's counselors.<br>
I left thinking that Simon would be in good hands until he got to get back to Kee Tov.<br>
<br>
A week went by and I heard at pick up from one of his counselors that Simon was actually playing with one of his peers. Another girl in his group. It was sweet but I didn't think much of it.<br>
The next day, when I went to drop him off in the morning, DJ made a beeline for me and said how amazing it was to watch Simon make a friend. </div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br>
"I know" I said skeptically. "I heard about **** from his counselor yesterday."<br>
"Yeah, they've played some but you know Niara is his best friend" DJ said.<br>
"Oh, I hadn't heard about her" I say still thinking that these are fleeting moments of other kids being able to hang with my son who cannot sustain interactions with his peers.<br>
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DJ shakes her head and takes me by the hand leading me out of earshot of Simon- who listens to everything.<br>
"No, I don't think you understand. They love each other. They walk around holding hands. She asks him to come swim with her and he goes! He sits next to her every lunch time. They are like two peas in a pod. It's been like this all week."</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br>
She is speaking low and slow so I will get it. She gets it. She wants me to get it.<br>
<br>
It's sinking in. I am skeptical but I see her intensity. Three weeks have gone by since that conversation and each week has brought with it pictures, stories, and a slow settling in belief. My son has his first friend.<br>
<br>
I have watched them play at pick up. She meets him where he's at. He meets her when she makes bid after bid for his attention and ladies and gents....she holds her own when he engages her in StarWarsMonstersTransformersBarbieMinion battles. It's amazing to watch. I feel my heart inflate like a Mylar balloon and then pop like a birthday Pinata!<br>
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It was hard to think about them not seeing each other for the rest of the summer.<br>
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When we had a week left before the start of Kee Tov, we gently asked Simon if he wanted to stay at Y camp or go to Kee Tov. Two or three times we very clearly laid out the options. Go to Kee Tov or stay at Y camp with Niara? Each time Simon chose Kee Tov. It was unclear to us that Simon understood but we didn't have anything else to go on.</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br>
Simon ended his time at Y camp on Friday with a sweet send off, lots of hugs and an all camp salute.<br>
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Monday arrived and Simon and I are driving to Kee Tov where he'll meet his new camper group and counselors. I'm telling him how excited I am to be taking him to camp and he's smiling. Then comes the question that breaks my heart. "Will Niara be at camp Kee Tov?"<br>
<br>
This is the first time that he's asked a question like this...ever, but not the first time that this topic has come up. Remember just a few sentences back when I told you, dear reader, that we'd very gently but clearly asked Simon to choose? Each time, we tried to explain that Kee Tov meant no Niara or DJ or so and so. We put it in positive terms, we put it in negative terms, I used hand gestures, I thought I was clear. Still, until this very moment, it was clear to me that Simon had not understood. The question and connection had to come from him.<br>
<br>
I said "No my love, Niara is going to be at Y camp and you are going to be at Camp Kee Tov."</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br>
He was quiet.<br>
<br>
When we got to drop off, Simon still hadn't said much and even when we met his counselors and unit head there was something missing. Folks from last summer were thrilled to see him, his counselors were very thoughtful and listened closely as I gave the 'Simon Spiel' but as I walked away the Boy did something that I have never seen before. </div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">He followed me.<br>
<br>
If you know him or have read this blog at all, you know this is not typical. Simon has really never shown any separation anxiety (or stranger anxiety either). He plows headfirst into most new situations especially if he has the attention of interested/caring grown ups. I chalked it up to the chaos that accompanies any first day of camp and got him hooked into a game of GaGa. There were no tears, no pulling at my hand not to go, and I even got a weird kiss goodbye.<br>
<br>
I left with a sinking feeling right alongside a hopeful feeling that things would be all right. This was after all, an exceptional camp with exceptional people and we had had an exceptional summer last year.<br>
<br>
No calls during the day kept that feeling of hope going right up until Simon stepped off the bus at 3:45. He looked fine but wasn't smiling. He wouldn't answer any questions about how the day went and got really agitated by the 3rd attempt on my part to find out even a little of what the days activities had been. By 5pm it was clear that it had been a really hard day-his ABA therapist called to discuss her surprise at Simon's angry behavior at camp.<br>
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The short of the rest of the story is that Simon is back at Y camp. Niara and Simon are back together. Jaime and I are learning more and more about our son and how consistency is key.<br>
<br>
The long of it is, connection is what I want most for him but that's just me. He will have a lifetime of camps, schools, people who can meet him where he's at, affinities that will serve him, some that won't, love in his life that will be unconditional and loves that will come with conditions that he can or can't meet, maybe some relationships that will last longer than expected or wanted, some that won't, and summers that will be filled with swimming, field trips, and hopefully Niara and many more like her. <br>
<br>
The two hours that I spent on phone last night frenetically brokering refunds and reregistrations are totally worth it when I see Simon's eyes light up as we head upstairs to the sign in at the Y. After a quick kiss goodbye he is off and running, feeling home.<br>
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Summer Lovin'<br>
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Cheering/Chillin' at the A's game</div>
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Family Time!</div>
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Nothing like Cousins!</div>
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Pontoon Boat fun!</div>
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Mom! I can totally drive this thing.</div>
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Ok then.</div>
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Just like his Mommy!</div>
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BFF's at play </div>
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I just love these next two. She is wailing on him and he loves it!</div>
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Fallen asleep on the way home from a field trip.</div>
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Sweet sweet summer time.<br>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-22395447461545933252015-07-25T09:56:00.000-07:002015-07-28T12:50:42.639-07:00Buddy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Simon has his first bona fide friend! She is a fellow camper at the YMCA camp where he has been for the last 4 weeks. This is his first friend and she is actually his age! Annnnnd, twice his size. Seriously. They are like the polar ends of the size chart cruising around. </div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3CXTkfeFOs3woB8JnLXqiZ6XiE4ZL5jxM3lvJNdQcPxImx8Mfn4XDFiVLB9crCGnAOk2Y9G8sSf-H061hsIpF5gVTGY9Ftximz3qskilVnyOTKwC3Kfka_E3mz_yVm8cT06xP6zJI2Lkv/s640/blogger-image--1875830661.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3CXTkfeFOs3woB8JnLXqiZ6XiE4ZL5jxM3lvJNdQcPxImx8Mfn4XDFiVLB9crCGnAOk2Y9G8sSf-H061hsIpF5gVTGY9Ftximz3qskilVnyOTKwC3Kfka_E3mz_yVm8cT06xP6zJI2Lkv/s640/blogger-image--1875830661.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">They are like puppies together- walking around holding hands, playing, wrestling, whacking each other and giggling and sometimes in a puppy pile snoozing like this:<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGgMIqHLhK-2U3i9nlFZWj5LVky7EqbVwp4qhHnzeP032iGyjmPmA9b8BHh-gwdqSuZ25Ko6W9Ws-FbLprPnunWsTrzc3rRNSzhKJl6iZt5z6MdgK9o1zpG1MaQP_YkB4juPTbINHl4Umm/s640/blogger-image--1940526541.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGgMIqHLhK-2U3i9nlFZWj5LVky7EqbVwp4qhHnzeP032iGyjmPmA9b8BHh-gwdqSuZ25Ko6W9Ws-FbLprPnunWsTrzc3rRNSzhKJl6iZt5z6MdgK9o1zpG1MaQP_YkB4juPTbINHl4Umm/s640/blogger-image--1940526541.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It's been so so sweet. Tragically, Simon starts another camp next week. We debated canceling the 2nd camp so they could stay together but he wanted to go to the other camp. I'm nervous to see if he really understood that it meant he was giving up his friend. Methinks he doesn't really get it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We've sent a letter to her mother via a counselor with our contact info and have our fingers crossed we will hear from her. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Amazing milestone!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-30864343338684353122015-07-01T21:58:00.001-07:002015-07-02T14:17:32.684-07:00A New Chapter<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Tomorrow is my last day at the job I've had for the last 6 1/2 years. The new job I will start on Monday is pretty much my dream job (policy work for a county health department Homeless program) so I've been a little confused about some of the hard feelings I've been having. This morning it hit me. <br />
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In our documentary, at one point I say something like, "there are two things I am proudest of in my life. One is my relationship with Laura". <br />
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The other one was getting the job that I will be leaving tomorrow. <br />
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For reasons that will become obvious, I couldn't blog about what was happening while it was happening. I feel like enough time has passed that I can tell the story now and hope that the telling will help heal some of the tender spots still left.<br />
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When Simon got sick, I was in a job that I had had high hopes for. I was on the fast track to move up quickly and, though I was feeling increasing pressure to put in more hours and was less and less sure I wanted to be there long-term, it was a perfectly good job. Things started to get a little bumpy when I told my boss I would be taking 6 weeks of maternity leave when Laura gave birth but I didn't make the connection between that decision and the increase in pressure from her until much later. Simon was born and the heat started to turn up more, but it was managable.<br />
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But when Simon got sick, all hell broke loose.<br />
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I asked for 2 weeks off the day he went into the ICU as we tried to determine if he would live or die. When it became clear he was hanging on but really sick and still unstable, I asked to work part time for about a week. At the end of that week, I met with my boss to discuss options, including dropping to part time for a few months and/or working remotely for a day or two a week. No dice. Not only no dice, but I was told that if I dropped to part time, there was no guarantee that I could have my job back. This was a BIG problem because we had also realized that Laura would not be going back to work anytime soon. Our family was completely dependent on me keeping this job. <br />
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During that conversation, my boss ACTUALLY said to me, "I think coming back to work full time would be great for you. A few good wins under your belt at work will really help your spirits". My newborn was in the ICU with a life threatening disease and I was being advised to lean in at work. By the director of a women's health center focused on supporting new mothers and their newborns. I almost laughed in her face.<br />
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Shortly after that meeting my boss set up a meeting with HR. I was really looking forward to the meeting, naively assuming that it was called so that we could talk about possible options to help me support my family AND continue to do good work for them. Thank god I had lawyered up by that point because it was a nightmare.<br />
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The HR rep started the meeting by saying, "I didn't think it was legal for you to use the Family Medical Leave Act for the time you've already taken off [when Simon got sick] because you were just providing emotional support [to Laura] but I did some research and it turns out that it's okay". I was so in a state of shock from everything that was happening that my lawyer had to point out the insane homophobia in that statement (ie, Laura is the real parent, you are just some person helping her out in the hospital, instead of me being a full parent there to be with my son while he was critically ill). It only went down from there and ended up with me being presented with document saying I was on probation, despite my stellar performance review 6 months prior. Again, praise to my lawyer because she had warned me not to sign anything in that meeting. <br />
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I stalled on signing the document for as long as I could while I started madly searching for new jobs to apply for. There was nothing, nothing, nothing and then, like a shining star falling from the sky, a job popped up and the name on the posting was a former colleague. Within a week I had an interview scheduled and I was able to see the light at the end of the tunnel.<br />
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The morning of the interview, Laura and I stopped by the hospital to see Simon as we did every day before I left for work. Usually he was happy and chatty or still dozing but that morning he looked dead. Literally, he looked dead. He was grey and barely moving and could hardly open his eyes when I anxiously cooed good morning to him. His nurse appeared immediately and explained that he had started to run a fever in the middle of the night and that they weren't exactly sure what was going on. Not wanting to leave Laura in the middle of a crisis, I offered to reschedule my interview for another day. She grabbed me by the shoulders and looked me right in the eye and I got it. We needed me to get this job and we needed it badly. <br />
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I worked for a few hours and then left for my "appointment". By some miracle, I was able to be friendly and chatty and articulate during the interview. I returned to work feeling numb and stunned and hopeful. At about 3 pm , Laura called me and I could hear the terror in her voice. She gave me Simon's temperature in Celsius and said I should come to the hospital. I was so afraid of getting fired on the spot that I decided to talk to our manager (not my boss) about whether or not it would be okay for me to leave. When I told the manager (a former nurse) what his temperature was, her face blanched. She said, "Jaime, that's 106.9 Fahrenheit! He is really, really sick. You have to go right now".<br />
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Shortly after I got to the hospital, he started vomiting and pooping what looked like coffee grounds. It turned out that he had been started on antibiotics to fight an infection of yet-to-be-determined origin and the drugs had interacted with his blood thinner. His naso-gastric tube had irritated his stomach lining and he had developed a GI bleed so significant that he was moved back to the high intensity section of the ICU and given a blood transfusion. The next day they determined that he was septic with gram-negative bacteria which are the worst kind- the bacteria are basically like little nuclear bombs that release super toxic waste when they die.<br />
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I forced myself to go to work the day after this terrifying incident and prayed with everything I had, to anything and anyone that would listen, to get the new job. A few days later, I got a call for a second interview and shortly after that, got the job. The rest is history... (The Department of Fair Employment and Housing took my case, identifying at least 3 separate violations, but my employer had been very careful not to leave a paper trail so there was not enough evidence to move forward).<br />
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It's been so intense to realize how much has changed since those awful days when I was so desperately trying to get this job I'm now leaving. It ended up being the perfect job. I had a supportive workplace and boss, work I loved, time and flexibility to support my family- so many things that were exactly what I needed at the time. <br />
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Today I notice that while I still have scars, I have healed and grown enough that I'm ready to move on and stretch myself. I can't wait to see what this next chapter holds...for my career and my family.<br />
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439805193963673901.post-77655956554693297932015-05-25T11:33:00.001-07:002015-05-26T11:58:02.337-07:00The Stormtroopers Are Crying<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I had one of the most profound parenting experiences of my life last night.<br />
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We've been trying to get Simon started on the Harry Potter stories, thinking the story of the quirky boy will resonate with him and that the ultimate bad guy will hold massive appeal. We've told him about Voldemort to entice him, but it's been rough going, because we're only about 30 pages in and it's been too slow for him.<br />
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Last night I read a few pages but we still didn't get to anything juicy. When I stopped reading and turned out the light, Simon started to get really angry. He wailed and insisted that he wanted me to keep reading and hear about Voldemort. I quickly realized the feelings he was showing were way bigger than warranted for the situation, so I decided to try and give him space to show whatever was going on. <br />
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I kept gently saying "We're done reading for the night honey. We can read more tomorrow". He started wailing loud enough that Laura poked her head in to make sure everything was okay. He sobbed and quieted down in cycles but then started ramping up to real crying. At one point he used the word "heartbroken" and my eyes started to sting with tears.Then, all of a sudden, in the middle of a jag about Voldemort, he choked out, "He makes me want to cry!". I almost sat bolt upright in bed. This was the first time he had ever said anything close to "When x happens, I feel y". I kept lying with him, trying to see what else he had to show me.<br />
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He kept crying real tears and clearly feeling more sad than mad, so I started saying something to him that I used to say when he was a baby in the hospital. I used it especially when he was having painful procedures done or one of the multiple times he was septic and feeling godawful. I kept softly repeating, "I hear you Simon. I hear how upset you are. I'm right here". Everytime I'd say it he would cry harder.<br />
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At one point I said, "I hear how sad you are Simon. I wanted to let you know that I'm not sad, I'm feeling okay, so I can be here with you and listen while you're sad". He stopped crying and I thought for a moment. I said, "Simon, do you want me to be sad too?". Quietly, he said, "Yes". I asked, "Do you want me to cry too?" He said yes. I started to fake cry and he started sniffling and sounding like he might cry. Then I started to real cry a little and he began to cry again. After a few minutes of this, he settled down a bit and started talking, in a small, sad voice.<br />
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What he proceeded to do blew me away.<br />
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He went through a series of approximately 20 characters from movies, books, TV shows and his life. For each one, he said they were crying and then, with prompting, told me why.<br />
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It went like this:<br />
Simon: Barbie is crying<br />
Me: Why is Barbie crying?<br />
Simon: Because her Dreamhouse is gone.<br />
Me: Oh, that's so so sad. She must be so sad.<br />
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Here are just a few that I can remember:<br />
Professor Callahan (Big Hero 6) is crying because his daughter is gone<br />
The Boov (from the movie Home) are crying because their planet is gone<br />
Rosetta (from the Disney Fairies) is crying because Tinkerbell is gone<br />
MM (Laura's Mom) is crying because her daughter is gone.<br />
The Storm Troopers are crying because their guns are gone (this one particularly got me)<br />
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It went on like this for about 20 minutes. The thing that struck me most was that each person lost the thing that meant the very most to them. They weren't crying because they lost a comic book, or a toy. They lost their person or their planet or the most identifying thing about them. I just lay in stunned silence between each version.<br />
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A few times I asked him why he was crying or why he was sad. He would get really quiet. At one point I said, "Do you know why you are sad or do you just have sad feelings?" He quickly said, "Sad feelings". He mostly didn't want me to touch him but at one point I put my hand on his chest. I asked him if he wanted me to leave it or take it off, he said to leave it. I explained that sometimes when I feel sad it feels tight in my chest and sometimes tight in my throat too. When I asked him if it felt like that for him, he said yes. <br />
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When it seemed like things were winding down, I asked why he was sad one more time. He thought for a minute and said, "My father is gone". I had a moment of "Oh, God, are we having this conversation right now?" but decided to just roll with it and ask who his father was. He answered "Darth Vader". I breathed a silent sigh of relief and silently chuckled.<br />
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More clues this morning when he and I were playing with 2 of his dolls. He told me my doll wasn't feeling well and that his doll was the doctor. I asked him what was wrong with my doll, and when he didn't answer, I decided to try to push a little. I said, "Oh, Doctor I'm so glad you're here. My heart feels sick". He turned his doll around immediately and said "Not available". Trying to keep my face neutral, I said, "Oh, sorry, I mean my knee hurts". His doll came over and did a little treatement and said, "There! Now you're all better". My doll thanked his doll and we went on our merry way.<br />
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I'm just so in awe of how sophisticated his brain is and heartbroken about how sad he is. What he described with all his examples is the most deep, existential grief. His way of communicating what is happening inside reminds me so much of the autistic boy in "<a href="http://ronsuskind.com/books/life-animated/" target="_blank">Life Animated</a>" (an INCREDIBLE read/listen- highly recommend it if you want to understand Simon).<br />
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What has happened in the last 12 hours just reminds me that we can't come at any of this head on with Simon, but if we take one step back to give him some space and listen carefully, he is speaking volumes. </div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Want to contact us directly? Email jaimejenett@gmail.com or lafitch@gmail.com</div>The Fitch-Jenett Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01189562745394422476noreply@blogger.com3