Cause for Caleb

I didn't know much about autism until dear 4 year-old Caleb was diagnosed with it last year. Since then, his mom has been educating all who'll have an ear to hear, and I've appreciated being informed.

Autism is a neurodevelopmental illness that affects 1 in 150 children, more than pediatric AIDs, cancer and diabetes combined. It deserves, and has thankfully begun receiving, increased attention. But there is MUCH more work to be done.

Walk Now for Autism is committed to the effort of finding a cure, and here in Atlanta on May 19th, Maisha, Caleb's godmother, will be putting one foot in front of the other on his behalf.

Caleb is about to become a big brother any day now, and to mark the occasion, I thought I'd lend some support. If you're so inclined you can learn more here.

The research shows that autism doesn't play exclusive favorites, and this fact is not lost on me.

Caleb, for being a brave, beautiful boy taking on the world, and Maisha, for taking on three miles to equip him, you've just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

Half Day and History

Today is my 35th and 1/2 birthday. Whoo-hoo! Welcome to my cyber-party. :-)

In celebration, I decided to participate in the following history birthday blog game of tag, proposed by Marnie Pehrson at The Power of Gratitude.

Here were the instructions:

1. Go to Wikipedia and type in your birthday without the year:

October 27

2. List 3 events that occurred that day:

* 1904- The first underground New York City Subway line opens; the system becomes biggest in United States of America, and one of the biggest in world.

* 1997- Stock markets around the world crash because of fears of a global economic meltdown. The Dow Jones Industrial Average plummets 554.26 points to 7,161.15. for the first time, the New York Stock Exchange activated their “circuit breakers” twice during the day eventually making the controversial move of closing the Exchange early.

* 2004 – Curse of the Bambino: The Boston Red Sox defeat the St. Louis Cardinal in Game 4 of the World Series, winning their first championship since 1918.

(Have to playfully get this jab in to Hubby-Honey, who put the festivities for my birthday in 1999 on hold until the game where his beloved Yankees won the World Series title was over. We were still just dating--lucky for him he more than made up for it!)

3. List 2 important birthdays:

* 1873 – Emily Post, American etiquette author

* 1924- Ruby Dee, American actress (once had the pleasure of meeting her at a booksigning and subsequently becoming an invited backstage guest of hers after a show performance as a birthday gift to Hubby-Honey)

4. List 1 death:

2003 – Rod Roddy, American television announcer (b.1937)
(“Come on down!” The Price Is Right weighs heavily in my loving memories of my great-grandmother, a huge fan of the show.)

5. List 1 holiday or observance:

St. Vincent and the Grenadines – Independence Day (from Britain, 1979)
(Ohhhh, yes! As if I needed yet another reason to head to the Caribbean!)

So now, according to the instructions, I'm supposed to "tag" someone else. How about... you?!

And if you've got a blog (you know who you are--don't make me call you out) ;-) and you want to play, post your results on your blog and come back here and comment with a link to it on mine. Consider it a fun half-birthday present that I'll accept with gratitude!

Marnie, you and celebrations of the everyday have just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

Tag to the rest of you--you're it!

Puzzling

You may recall I pitched the idea of not watching television this week. In my attempt to practice what I preach, Big Boy and I, refraining from PBS Kids, sat down this afternoon to do the flamingo baby (as pictured in the series at right) Tom Arma jigsaw puzzle together.

I don't think I've taken the time to put together a jigsaw puzzle since... kindergarten. I don't even recall how this one made its way into the house.

It was fun.

Rediscovered simple pleasures from a simpler time: you've just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

Green Bum

11:10 a.m. The pediatrician surmises that Baby Girl's rash is an allergic reaction to her diapers and/or wipes.

11:45 a.m. A trip to Whole Foods and subsequent purchase of Seventh Generation Baby chlorine free diapers and 365 Everyday Value baby wipes (and a Green and Black's dark chocolate bar because, well, do I really need a reason?).

Tick-tock, tick-tock...

11:30 p.m. Diaper change. The rash appears to have diminished significantly.

Seventh Generation and Whole Foods' 365: for giving Baby Girl a jump on a cleared up rump, you've just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

Please Spare the Messenger

Today marks the start of TV-Turnoff Week 2007 (April 23rd - 29th).

I'm just sayin'...

As one whose family turned off the television in our home for the entire year of 2006, I'm telling you, for one week, you CAN do this--and you'll be surprised at the difference it will make in your life. And I'm talking about positve effects.

Besides, now that Sanjaya's been booted off American Idol, turning off the tube this week should be all the more easier!

Here are some "screen-free" activities with which you can amuse yourself in lieu of channel surfing. When's the last time you made a friendship bracelet, huh?

For encouraging children and adults to watch less television and in turn promote healthier lives and communities, TV-Turnoff Network, you've just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

Untitled

Listening to NPR’s All Things Considered yesterday afternoon, I was struck by the words of Virginia Tech accounting professor Bryan Cloyd, whose daughter Austin died in Monday’s tragedy. The remarks reportedly appeared on the front page of the Virginia Tech school paper’s website, from a copy of an email the professor sent to his students:

“…Go to your mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers, and tell them with all your heart how much you love them. Go out of your way to make good memories, because someday these memories may be all you have left.”

These words have stayed on my mind even today, and I suppose it’s meant for me to share them with you.

Go “make good memories” and have a good weekend.

Professor Brian Cloyd, for touching countless others with this poignant admonition in the midst of your grief, you have my deepest sympathy, and you’ve respectfully just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

Baby Got Back Up

Hubby-Honey found this helpful automated backup service. I no longer have to be concerned about the outlying possibility of losing files, as all our work is now safely backed up. $49.95 annually is worth the peace of mind.

Carbonite, you've just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

Sing Along Now: "If You See Me Walking..."

down the street,
wearing this top,
with Baby Girl on my side,

Walk on by...
I'll know we're fly. :-)

Foolish pride, "Mini -Me" mother-daughter fashions from Lucky Brand Jeans and inspiration from page 298, InStyle May 2007, you've just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

When There Are No Words

The ability to hold my babies close to me and feel their breath on my neck, as I ache for grieving moms who won't have the same priviledge again, has just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

La-TEA-Da

For a terrific tea time experience and education (their menu seemingly doubles as a textbook), and the complimentary Shangri-la tea shots and mints: Yvonne, Candace, Valerie, Yannick, Chase and Ms. Tonya--you've just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

Blog Blah Blah

Wow!

I've had a spike in my listener stats for Thanks Ranks Radio, and I believe that the man behind Shaun OMac Radio has had much to do with it.

For your support and the benchmark you've become, Shaun, you've just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

Folks are Grand at The Brand

I got turned around in Snellville early this afternoon. Dinah kindly obliged me with driving directions through her drive-through teller window, and gave Big Boy a lollipop that he savored with frequent exclamations of, "Ahhh... this is SO good!"

Dinah, you've just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

Surely I'm Not the Only One Noting HIS Hair?

I told myself I was going to leave this alone within this blog, because it was so baselessly and worthlessly ignorant, but alas, I'm still annoyed, and I need an outlet...

So to the YWCA USA, who is giving me the opportunity to constructively express my ire against stupidity, and Karlease, for passing this along, you've just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

**UPDATE: The link above no longer works, because the proper action was taken. Hip-hop artists also in violation take note: Though I'm an old school Brown Sugar babe, you're not off the hook with me either.**

Spring Cleaning with Special Meaning

Hope you had a terrific Easter weekend. It was a blessed but hectic one for me. I needed yesterday to recover!

One of my many tasks this weekend was finding just the right Easter outfits for my children. They were going to be visiting their Grandmom and Grandpoppy's church for the first time, so I couldn't have them looking any old way, right?

Well I was successful in finding clothes that sufficiently met the "Easter cute criteria" (though as their mother, I would find them just as adorable swaddled in burlap and raffia), and after having served their purpose, these specialty pieces are now hanging in the closet where they will likely remain if ever they are worn again before being outgrown.

The ability to just go to the store and buy outfits for my children, or have clothing provided by friends and family who love us, is a blessing that is not soon lost on me. Many are not as fortunate.

Chaffin, a volunteer with the Dekalb County CASA Program and Juvenile Court, reminds me of this fact. She is currently putting together a clothes bank for foster mothers where they can get and exchange clothing for children placed in their care. She will be collecting donated clothing and children's items this Thursday from a Moms group to which I belong.

Reality: foster moms tend to receive children in the middle of the night or on very short notice. Often these moms do not have suitable clothing or other needed items at the immediate moment and it can get costly to acquire them.

Given all this, I have been working at the challenge to part with the darling, beloved pieces that I have been holding onto for so long that crowd my little ones' dresser drawers, closets and hampers, so that others might benefit.

This has not been an easy process for me--this letting go--as my rational head that says, "Into the 'donate' pile it goes! They've outgrown it and will never wear it again!" battles my sentimental heart that counters, "Ohhhh... this was his/her first_________. I can mount this in a shadow box and display it..."

OK:

A) I'm not crafty. I've never mounted anything in a shadow box in my life. If I didn't do such things when time was on my side and the only person I was responsible for was myself, who am I kidding now?

B) I live in a house, not a museum, and that's where I'd have to dwell to reasonably display the 50+ outfits I'm trying to hold onto and consider for this grand installation.

So the head (deservedly so) wins and the heart gets to keep one outfit for each child, consoled by the fact that we have TONS of photos that capture the babies in these outfits, so the memory is indeed preserved.

So Chaffin, get ready. I've got some packages for ya....

And with that I should note a consideration Chaffin passed along that made me take pause:

She requested that if at all possible, we put our items in something other than trash bags, as such a presentation can be demoralizing to the children who receive them.

Think about that. When you receive something, whether purchased or presented as a gift, doesn't the bag or the box say something to you? I know I'm not the only one who stashes specialty shopping bags from stores or gift totes because they're attractive and essentially say, "You're special and appreciated."

Imagine how a child feels if all he/she ever receives, if anything, is given to them in a garbage bag.

Hmmmm.

Chaffin, pretty bags and boxes: for reminding me of the blessing of my bounty, and giving me the win-win opportunity to share it lovingly and attractively with others, you've just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

Soup, Shoes and (Shhh...)

I'm always pleasantly surprised and delighted when the little things I do just simply in the course of "being me" are met with appreciation in grand ways by folks who give me things in return.

To Ms. Carter for the homemade butternut squash soup, to Gerra for the baby shoes and slip, and to the grown and sexy playful new business owners (I love you, but I can't quite bring myself to linking your website here. ;-) Curious parties interested, email me for details) for the ends, you've just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

Won't Skirt the Issue

Reading through the April 2007 local edition of skirt! magazine, I came across this ad, and realized yet another reason why I love Atlanta:

Mayor Shirley Franklin is one admirable tough cookie.

Madame Mayor, you've just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

For further information about keeping kids safe, call 1-800-244-5373.

Milestone

Baby Girl crawled the length of my bed today to get to a book. I moved her back to my pillows and put the book on the other end--three times--to make sure I was indeed witnessing this: her crawling for the first time. Each time, she did not disappoint. She did a herky-jerky elbow-hand-knee-foot plant and made it to her desired destination.

The breathtaking wonder of watching a little one develop, up close and personal, has just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

I Do

For the quick $50 apiece earned last night for Hubby-Honey and me sharing our thoughts on faith and marriage, and for the work you're doing to strengthen them, Program for Strong African American Marriages, you've just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

Clip Me Baby One More Time

Britney did it with her hair. This weekend, I did it with some shrubs in our front yard.

It all started with the arrival last Thursday of four hydrangea plants my mother-in-law had shipped to me (which was a significant thing in and of itself).

I am not a gardener. Growing up I was a suburban girl living an urban existence. I left tooling around in the yard to my parents--my dad landscaping in the front, and my mom tending to her raised vegetable garden in the back.

It's not that I don't appreciate the beauty of a well-tended garden, and the bounty it yields. My main aversion to gardening is happening upon squirmy worms when you're disturbing their natural habitat--it gives me the heebie-jeebies.

Or at least it did when I was six years old watching my dad till soil. I haven't looked back since.

But when my mother-in-law, an avid gardener, started sharing her wisdom earlier this year with me around this area of her interest, I took the time to really listen to her. The conversations were seeming to nurture a new bond.

And then the plants came this Thursday. Live plants.

Well, I tell you what--I determined that best believe I was going to become a gardener this weekend, because I was NOT, given all the literal and symbolic importance of the gift of these hydrangea plants, going to be the one who'd have to put explaining their demise to my mother-in-law on my future to-do list.

So I got to thinking that the front of our house might be a nice place for them if it weren't for the unsightly half-dead shrubs, long serving as the bane of my existence, that were currently occupying the space.

Standing in the driveway looking at these shrubs the thought popped into my head: "They must go... they must go NOW."

And before I knew it, I was out there, looking like the best dressed gardener ever in my good "street clothes" and new shoes, cutting away at these shrubs with manual hedge clippers of my father's that we'd been storing for him in our basement.

Hubby-Honey was inside with the children watching the near completion of Ohio State vs. Georgetown Final Four game before he noticed that whatever I'd said I'd be doing outside (I wasn't specific) was taking a REALLY long time.

And that's when he found me, in the midst of green and browned clippings, grunting like Serena Williams returning a volley and hacking away at the shrubs that were now down to their thick bark-like limbs (that were no match for the clippers, so at this point I was just swinging the tool at them as if I could will it to now act as an axe).

I stopped at that point, because I could hear it in his voice when he questioned, "Uh, Babe...? Are you... OK...?" that I was scaring him.

I was fine. But I took out all that wasn't right with the world on those shrubs. And it did feel good.

Sunday, I was seven kinds of sore, but I got out there again (this time in proper "old clothes" gardening attire) and lawn-bagged up the clippings and branches. Hubby-Honey went to Lowe's and bought a "pick mattock", and finished the job--save for one last "shrub nud" whose roots run too deep for us to play with.

So like Britney, I'll be calling in a professional to clean up my impetuous mess, but unlike Britney, I'm clean and sober and didn't have to plop down $25,000+ and 30 days of my life for the therapeutic shedding.

But I think I might understand where she may have been coming from, so those who are venturing into glass greenhouses don't throw stones.

Satisfaction over a job (maybe half-crazily) well (almost) done, a newfound curb appeal and urge to garden, and Ma, for the hydrangea, you've just been added to The Thanks Ranks.

Smith and Hawken, here I come!