I’ll Give You a Hint – It’s Mine

posted by Momo Fali on July 2, 2014

Anyone want to guess whose puppy ran across the neighbor’s freshly tarred driveway?

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There’s No Crying at Old Navy!

posted by Momo Fali on June 30, 2014

If I hadn’t been there myself I wouldn’t have believed it. My son made a stranger cry today.

My 12 year old with special needs, who struggles desperately with decision making, had a melt-down in the patriotic shirt section of Old Navy today. We spent 15 minutes going back and forth between the shirts and the register because he couldn’t pick the one he liked. Because we’re trying to get him to focus on this much-needed skill I told him that he had to make a final decision and couldn’t change his mind again – it was that shirt or NO shirt.

Of course, by the time we got to the front of the store he had decided he wanted a different one. Again.

So I took the shirt back and told him he wasn’t getting anything and that’s when the melt-down began. He doesn’t throw traditional tantrums with kicking and screaming, but with tears and thoughtful manipulation. He stood in front of the check out line with sweet, silent tears then said, “Please, mom! I will sacrifice myself for that shirt!”

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imagine those eyes, filled with tears

By the time we got in line, his face was red and splotchy and his shirt was dotted with tears. Did I mention the line was LONG. It looked like Black Friday and we were sandwiched between people in the front and back and the racks of impulse purchases on the sides. Well played, Old Navy. Well played.

My son continued his pleas and I continued to say that he was not getting a shirt, that he has to work on decision making because if he can’t make a choice about a t-shirt, how can I trust him to make big decisions later in life, to which he replied, “I WILL make big decisions! I will be a good driver and I won’t do drugs!”

Then I got tapped on my shoulder. I turned around to see the woman behind us crying. With heartfelt sympathy for the 12 year old she probably thought was 6, she said, “He’s making me so upset.”

I nodded and said, “I know. This is hard, but I’m trying to set a precedent here.”

Then my son looked at her with his sad, tear-filled eyes and said, “Sometimes kids have a hard life.”

As we neared the register we stood next to a bin full of miscellaneous things like dog antlers, plastic Slinkies, and Beanie Babies; to one of which my son became quite attached. Since he couldn’t get the shirt he asked if he could get the Beanie Baby instead. Because I’m the meanest mom ever, I said no. The woman behind us continued to cry.

And, wouldn’t you know, that lady who was moved to tears by my kids dramatic display ended up buying him the Beanie Baby? As she handed it to him she said, “Here you go. Now maybe your life won’t be so hard.”

Though in the end he got his way and that was not what I wanted, part of me was moved by her gesture and how she was touched by this little boy and his sadness.

But, really? Couldn’t she have bought him one of those shirts?

Anatomy of a Desk

posted by Momo Fali on June 20, 2014

Let’s take stock of my current desk situation, shall we?

desk

Sure there’s a keyboard, laptop, extra monitor, mouse, pens and some paper; so it may look a lot like your desk too. You might even have a giant coffee cup or a post-it reminder with instructions of what to do before your kid has a sedated MRI.

But, do you also have your son’s prescription ear drops and a half-eaten doggie football? What about the things you can’t see stacked up behind the monitor? Do you have a dishtowel, a dog bowl, an unused extension cord and some headphones – all things the puppy was chewing on and brought to you?

People think I am so lucky to work from home. Sometimes I am, but sometimes I find an undershirt on my keyboard or the battery “borrowed” from my mouse and put into the remote. During conference calls you can hear the Wii, a dog barking, or a child asking, “Mom, what’s for dinner? Thank goodness for mute.

And, thank goodness I have a wide lap since it’s the only space I have left for taking notes.

How to Meet His Gaze: Grow Fur

posted by Momo Fali on June 9, 2014

Every Sunday at church I reach for him during the sign of peace. As I simultaneously shake his hand and lean over to kiss the top of his head I remind him to look people in the eye when he says, “Peace be with you.” It’s not necessarily something that comes naturally to him.

There are times, of course, when he will sit and stare intently at my face as we discuss the day’s events. Some evenings he will sit on my lap and I’ll tell him stories and he’ll look at me so closely that I can count his freckles.

But, more often than not, when replying to someone he quickly glances away as he says, “Thanks” or “Bye.” Eye contact is not his strong suit.

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Well, with humans anyway.