Monkey say 'Huh'?

Monkey Say 'Huh'

(The things we see that are supposed to make sense...but leave us with more questions than answers)

I wish I had a photo to put up, but unlike the other millions of Americans I am cell phone free. Which again leaves me with not the wish for a cell phone, but for a digital camera. 

Along my drive today I saw the best digitized highway display. I was driving along a 4 lane highway divided into two 2 lane sides and in between is a flashing sign that warns:

HIGH DEER AREA

That was good... that warned me that there was a plethora of deer in the area and to be on the look out! Thank you! No sarcasm at all, that is always a great warning to know. Has anyone ever seen the damage to both the deer and your car when the two meet? It's not pretty for either side. 

But then... it flashed again:

SEE A DEER

DON'T VEER

Wait what? Monkey say 'Huh'? What do you mean don't veer? Am I supposed to floor it and hit the sucker straight on???  Really, what am I supposed to do? Give Bambi the ol' one two BA-BAM! Watch it roll to the side as my car then limps away (well I have a truck, so we'll say stagger away). Instead of seeming safe, this traffic "safety" sign is making me feel everything but safe. For both me AND the deer!

Don't get me wrong, its not like I think they actually want me to hit the deer headlong. But if you want people to safely brake if possible then you need to have a third flashing message like:

BRAKE TO
ESCAPE

(I have just been informed the method is to brake, but then release your brake so that the deer is not hit with a braking force that was greater than your original speed).

I know the above doesn't rhyme but hey... It's a suggestion. When telling people what NOT to do... you need to have a follow up of WHAT to do. Just saying...

A Monkey Swinging between the Vines of Digital Native and Digital Immigrant

A Monkey Swinging between the Vines of Digital Native and Digital Immigrant

(Looking at Technology these days and what its really all about)

For anyone not in the techno speak (and I am certainly not one as seen by what I JUST said...) a Digital Native is someone like my son who from the moment of his birth has grown up plugged in and turned on. Computers, applications, browser windows, games (educational, personal, and entertainment), on demand access to the world all at his fingertips or button mash or finger swipe.  I would be what you call a Digital Immigrant, though that itself seems like a laugh since when I was young that's when computers actually began.

 I am a very learned Immigrant of this Digital Age, but yet still an Immigrant. Growing up I used apple floppy disks and start up codes, dot matrix printers. I remember when e-mails and internet where government use only. Computer games were originally educational as in 'Oregon Trail' and 'Where in the World is Carmen Sandiago' (bootup password= 'spy'). I remember using the typing program that George R. Martin uses to write Game of Thrones on. When Hotmail began, first having an 'e-mail' account and reading the daily 'dog and cat jokes' (no they were not about dogs and cats... they were lewd off base daily jokes you could subscribe to be e-mailed to you daily for a laugh). I remember the transition from 3.5 hard disks to CDs to when 1 GB of a junk drive seemed ENORMOUS! I grew up with every stage it seems of technological growth yet it is my son who is considered the Native while I am the Immigrant. 

Yet so what makes me an Immigrant? Is it myself being stuck in the old ways? Not constantly adapting to all of the current technology. I remember the shift from Myspace to Facebook. Everyone lauds and makes fun of the old system... but does anyone remember if you were tech savvy with code you could really get down and personalize your page on Myspace where now a days every face book is a generic carbon copy of the next. (Yes I am aware I just used a term a Digital Native is scratching their head over. Carbon Copy: Once upon a time when everything was paper, paper to make multiple copies of a sheet had double and triple copies immediately behind them that when you wrote on the top sheet the information was 'stained' onto the bottom two sheets with carbon impressing.)

Is it because instead of accepting every new format, page, option, style that crosses my path I act selective in which new approaches to technology deserve my time instead of making room for all? I blog when I have time, I Facebook to keep in touch with friends and loved ones overseas, I use Google Voice and Skype for international calling, texting. I surf through freeware finding the things that have a purpose suitable for my life to make it easier. -but what I don't do is tweet (or twat/twatting as I call it), I do not #hashtag, or Flickr, I enjoy YouTube but do not contribute to YouTube, I don't 'Wikia', and until recently if I had not needed it for my job, I still would have had no clue how to Weebly much less what it was (now I do...). 

I look at all these things at the fingertips or these days the voice recognition of my son and wonder if he's so much better being a Native? What has he lost in this life he automatically grew up in. More so the fact that he is only a Digital Native for one fact and one fact alone: he was born in a First World Country. As Digital Native and Digital Immigrant is not a universal concept that can be applied across the world and socio-economic boundaries. Is this an occurance where the luxury of being born in a First World Country is actually stealing and taking something away from him and his childhood. 

I get it, I understand the ease, the assistance it provides in ones daily life. The fact the that our children can now be called Digital Natives though I wonder one thing...

Is it too much a part of their lives?

My Special Monkey

My Special Monkey

(Observations of a mom of autism)

My son has autism, to me, watching him with the outside world and watching him at home are completely different. My son is considered higher functioning so therapists and school systems teach him to 'appear passing'. But when he's not at school being mainstreamed under curriculum that many times is outside his comprehension or too abstract for his current level or at church trying to figure out social cues from other kids because he just wants to play.... When he's at home. I get to see the real him. 

My son will turn 8 in the fall, but his speech and comprehension level is age 4-1/2. He's mainstreamed and finishing out First Grade with Resource Room additions & School Therapy. (Therapy that in truth in a whole month adds up to one visit outside covered by his ins..)

At home though he's not allowed to use those memorized phrases the therapist teach him that I hate. At home we have our own catch language that is on his level. A shorthand that we find ways to work explanations through for abstract things if we can. At home we have agreements.... We function on our own legal framework of household rules that instead of the law is the law and I'm the parent... works with his autistic obsessions, habits, patterns, and around things he hates but to mom's favor. 

Take the soap schedule. Bathing for no child is fun. Younger children particular love the water but not the cleaning and sudsy part of bath time. Washing their own hair, scrubbing. My 8 year old with a 'younger soul' is no exception. It's that younger soul I have to work with. So finally we sat down and came up with a working agreement. A soap schedule. A bit of give, a bit of take. A negotiation we could both live with. My son did not want to use soap ever. That did not work for me (I use a 3-in-1 on him... shampoo, conditioner, and body soap all in one...less bottles less fighting...) so I gave him a leg.... he didn't have to use soap on the weekends. Which gave us a 5/2 split. My son countered that he wanted 4 days of no soap. I rebutted with 1 day..... told him to give me a better option. He said 5..... I pointed out he was going the wrong way and I could decide 0. So he threw out 3. I thought for a second, that seemed responsible as long as it was spaced. So I said yes, he said Friday, Saturday, Sunday. I said heck no. He wasn't going 3 days without soap. Wednesday, Saturday, Sunday. He agreed. Since then all bathing arguments have ceased. He makes a point to know what day it is and before he showers at night say whether it is a soap or no soap day.  

Tooth brushing is still hit or miss but that is an issue of oral defensiveness not a "younger soul". 

I smile and sometimes feel sad at these moments when I get the privileged of really seeing my son whereas others don't. He is obsessed with Pokemon... Not the cards. The show. When he's 10 he wants to go on a Pokemon Journey like the main character Ash. I get told he's PDD instead of Asbergers because he can accomplish make believe play... but those lines they draw I think are more blurred than they realize. My son may be able to come up with invisible or imaginary friends... But I think he thinks they are real. Just like he thinks Ash and Pokemon are real. For the moment I let him have his thoughts. I know he's almost 8 but his mind is processing at a younger level. I wouldn't crush a 4 year old... so why would I crush one in an 8 year old body. But I know one day I will have to crush it if his processing doesn't catch on....

Blue's Clues is another area of enjoyment. When he was younger he didn't have the speech or comprehension to follow along, now he's at that age speech and comp wise mentally to interact and he does. My 8 year old thinks Blue asks him questions, interacts with him, is his friend. No matter how many times he watches the same disc. He doesn't have to try harder or pick up cues way above his comprehension... its set for his level. So all he has to do is enjoy and interact, laugh and feel special. 

These are all the things 'outsiders' miss. Even if they carry the labels of friends, associates, teachers, therapists. But I don't. 

Hope...The Emotional Monkey

Hope... The Emotional Monkey

(How we do it and what we let it do to us)

I'll be honest, hope is something I've been thinking about alot lately. It's not something I grew up with- and not to misunderstand meanings.... I knew my words growing up, I knew a plethora (you like how I worked that in) of words growing up. I had a very hide reading and comprehension level at a very early age.  I read all of Twain's work before I was 8, all of Shakespeare's work before I was 10, and by the time I was 12 I had read North and South at least twice. During a road trip when I was?  8..... I read the entire Old Testament because it filled time. I was a reader. I knew my words, my definitions, I understood abstract concepts. I saw how they worked and applied in written literature... but I had no parallel for many of them in the real world.... my world. Hope, was one of them. It was not that I was without hope or thought things were hopeless, I just did not know that my life was supposed to have hope, hope for things, beliefs, wishes. 

Looking back I believe it is because Hope is the enemy of adaption. My life was adaption. Living, moving, adapting, never stagnant; never static. When we hope we create parameters, definitions of foundation for that hope.  Foundations have to be firm, not ever changing. Which is why hope probably does't mix well with adaption. 

I'm not sure when I figured out hope as a concept that could be applied to my own life. Maybe around the same time I figured out love (another word I read about but was never present in my daily life for application or to be received.) But needless to say I have learned it, in the very real way it is supposed to be experienced. felt, believed in.  I find though because my life is still such an 'adaptive' one that hope is and can be a very dangerous and painful thing. Placing eggs into a a basket as the basket is net yet even woven and different weavers keep coming and pull out reed to place and replace different aspects of the basket. Or no different than an architect placing all his visions of what can be, what he wishes to be on a foundation that the builders keep switching the materials for so the concrete never sets. 

I realize this is not the normal lens that people view hope through. This though has been the lens of experience my life has seen ft to give me and it makes hope both as special as it is dangerous to a person who lives a life such as mine. For most hope requires belief, faith.... I understand that, I agree with that... but for me ad those like me it requires even more... it also requires bravery. 

I wish that is something I could say is always easily found.... 

Little Monkeys Learn Nature

Little Monkeys Learn Nature

(My Little Nature Monkeys)

So starting this week I am doing the prep and legwork for a 12 week Nature Activity for any family at my church that wishes to participate this summer. I know as a parent I get frustrated at this class or that activity for kids that sound great, till you hit the price tag!  My goal is to provide a class with a whopping total price tag of the $0.

How though? 3 Simple steps!

Recycling

Legwork/Early Prep

and most important Parent Involvement!

I think the reason people shell out ridiculous amounts for kid activities is that 1) Parents use the activity as babysitting time and 2) Instructors take the expensive way out of hard work and pay companies to put all their supplies together. But the high price tag that results can exclude families many times because the finances just aren't there.

Summertime is the perfect time to do outdoor activities and crafts with your kids. The more you can include knowledge about the outdoors and nature, the better the appreciation our kids will have for it!

Doing such activities though you have to do legwork and research. Never introduce something : plant, animal, insect, fish, anything that isn't a natural component of your local ecosystem.  Know what is considered legal and illegal and when in doubt contact your state DNR office. While ordering out may be easier in the form of kits,  if the item in question could, would, or does harm your ecosystem or local habitat, don't just think twice, say no. Also, while localized catch and release is best make sure its okay. Some animals, wildlife, or nature is protected, endangered, or has seasonal guidelines and even license requirements.

I know this summer my little Nature Monkeys will be dealing with butterflies, frog eggs, fish, and plants to name a few. Each requiring its own research about how is treated in my own state, even county and making sure our activity doesn't cause issues. Even more so educating the Little Monkeys on considerations such as these and teaching them the damage it can cause when Big and Little Monkeys ignore nature.

So expect more posts to come on various aspects of this up and coming summer project!

May Little Monkey and Big Monkeys Never Forget

May Little Monkey and Big Monkeys Never Forget

(Yom HaShoah: Holocaust Remembrance Day)

Yom HaShoah began Sunday evening on April 27th and ends Monday night on April 28th for 2014. 

I've been to the museum in DC a dozen times and no time have I gone that at some point my heart hasn't stopped. My throat not choked with unspilt tears. By the time I reach the bridge of photos.... my heart feels dead inside overcome with too much pain, grief, sorrow. 

These are not posed faces to be put inside frames and sold, they were real people, lives lost, stolen, under the banners of horrible hatred. Families broken apart, in some cases destroyed or left with no knowledge of other survivors scattered. We hear stories of the devastation of these families.  I personally know of one such story, a friend N. Csonka who once told me how is father and grandmother were under the impression for almost a decade that the other had perished only to randomly come across each other in California 10 years after the end of the war. Both having made their way to not only the United States but the West Coast thinking only they had survived. 

The photos rise well above ones head into a space like a bell tower, but holds no bells, no music, only loss. 

As you walk through the museum, watching videos, looking down into exhibits (some are too graphic to be out right displayed so those who can not stomache the images do not look down into these such exhibits), listening to testimonials, seeing the mountains and piles of shoes, hair clippings, luggage. All this while you carry with you a small booklet. As each floor and level passes you turn the pages to see, the life of a real person. You hold the life of a real person, and you walk trough the Holocaust with them, each moment and level at a time. When you reached the very end, see the final depth of the destruction and its toll of the world, feels its toll on your heart, there are computer stations.  Each time I find myself at this step I hold my breathe, hoping without hope. You see the computer will tell me whether my person lived, died, or in some cases uncertainty. 

Only once in the dozen times I have gone to the museum have I made it to the end and breathed emotions of relief that the person inside the booklet I held survived. All the rest perished and one unfortunate soul was unknown but suspected to be dead. 

When my son left for school this morning, I asked him again and again... what is today, until he could tell me in his own broken speech. 'Yom Ha Show Ah". What is it? "To remember the dead". As he gets older, we will talk more about it and when he's old enough, I will take him to see.  As horrible as it is to see, it is important, remembrance is important. Why? So 'Never Again'. 

Life as a Manly Monkey

Life as a Manly Monkey

(if only us women could ever understand)

So my interest or amusement today was sprung by the manly art of Ted Slampyak. For those that don't know he is a comic strip creator of 'Little Orphan Annie' and has his own blog called the 'Art of Manliness'. 

I accidentally stumbled across one of his cartooned PSA's (Public Service Announcements) as best way to describe their appearance. Not sure whether the information was serious or being done in a joking light (it is in cartoon fashion), I decided to investigate more of his 'PSA art'. 

While I'm not 100% sure of the legitimacy of all his safety facts, each in their very own way reminds me of some man or another I have known or do know in my life. Men love being strong, being protectors, yet where is it they learn all the ins and outs of this protective strength? I've heard a number of insane stories over the years of adrenaline and testosterone filled escapades that honestly as a woman... I do not understand. (For example my ex biting of the head of a scorpion while deployed before it could bite him first). I've also seen many things of manhood that my eyes can not unsee nor can my brain figure out why?

(For example friends dueling tree branch style on the river during ice break up season at 3am{summertime in Alaska =sunlight at 3am} in the morning because of pride and honor). 

All men though seem to have this same flavor about them, either hidden or out for the world to see and youtube! Where though when we were all in school were men taught these unspoken things? Not to dare quote 'Fight Club' but the first rule of Fight club is you don't talk about Fight Club. Was there a secret meeting to learn handshakes? Behaviors? Most importantly were some of these meetings specifically mandatory while others were come if you like? (As seen in our next PSA... not all get attended obviously) 

While they may not all do it correctly, somehow they all know when something isn't handled correctly amoungst each other, so while some may not implement they certainly all still learn it!

Who could forget though every woman's favorite learned but not always applied man lesson:

The things that men inherently know just astounds me. They certainly did not learn it at the same time we all learned 2 times 2 is 4. Who ever there instructor was must have been part Drill Sgt, Evil Knievel, Bill and Ted, Einstein, Blackbeard, Lancelot, and John the Baptist! How else would men be what they are? 

...and of course because no post about men would be complete without this:

Knowing whomever their secret instructor or mentor was he most certainly had one for these for all his different parts. 

Anyone interested more in the works of Ted Slampyak and his cartooning 'The Art of Manliness' can visit his blog at :  http://www.artofmanliness.com/

Life's Sneaky and Oh So Wrong Monkeys

Life's Sneaky and Oh So Wrong Monkeys

(if only we ever really stopped and thought)

For those who have no clue who Zoe Archer is.... bow down in awe! She is a romance writer with more creativity in her little typing finger than any of our mother's generation of romance writers. Because these are not the romance novels you used to sneak out of your mother's room and read when she wasn't looking! Her novels go far beyond, they are not romance, historical romance, thriller romance... she is part of a new generation of writers speaking to the inner geek in every woman. That romantic geek who until now didn't have an outlet except through elvish love written by men. Her genre: fantasy romance and steampunk romance. For those thinking to compare her to things like Twilight, Divergence, or the Mortal Instruments... all YA (Young Adult Fiction), slap that silly thought from your mind! Her work is fully adult with all the lovely naughty bits we love with a fantasy or steampunk twist. 

For fans of hers though that are connected up to her facebook for fans page, you also get to see she is a real woman, a real person. Who doesn't miss a beat as seen from the above clip and snip of a post from a few days ago on her face book page!

Because these are the real life things that sneak by us without a second thought. I love the fact Zoe (if only I could call her that... so I will!) is able to throw out such an indelicate subject to her readers to make a stance on something so important! How many novels of the romance persuasion have we read in our life time where the heroine is horrible raped, her virtue stolen by a rogue or family member by marriage and yet not 4-5 chapters later sometimes on a timeline of 2-3 weeks later she is willingly spreading her legs open for the hero of the book! The crushed and trampled flower brought back to life by the handsome, not always morally intact many times with his own damage hero. 

These are NOT realistic plot devices yet as we read them we have hardly questioned them in the past. I understand its fiction.... but even fiction has to have a few legs to stand on. Even authors who don't go through with the full act but use it as an almost occurrence so the heroine can get saved and then that night 'spread them'? BOOOOO! No woman recovers from trauma that fast emotionally!

So 3 tails swinging to Zoe Archer! Making her readers think and saying what should be obvious but has been a sneaky monkey getting by with so many woman readers without the reality to back it as a plot device!

For the author's facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/zoe.archer1?fref=nf

Life is a Messy Monkey

Life is a Messy Monkey...

(and messy monkeys never wait their turn in line)

Life has a habit of swarming together, not being patient and letting one item at a time flow through while the rest patiently wait. This week for example, I had my university finals writing some very lengthy papers, continued to deal with my son's special needs (autism and others) in switching his care over from one insurance to the new insurance, continued dealing with my ex's up and coming transition out of the military after a decade plus service and the PTSD minefield that goes with that, and finally learned one of my siblings passed away this week. (Not to mention all the minor chaos we all push aside because really.... its like water weight adding pounds we feel are just unecessary and ridiculous)

Short of admitting defeat what does one do? Recognize you are stuck between a rock and a hard place, with a lava floor and the sky falling- then do some construction modefications. Hang some pictures up on the rock and a hard place, add a roof for the falling debris, and learn how to turn the lava floor into a hotplate for cooking!

Yes, that is ridiculous.

But really, there is no answer. My ex with his PTSD says he can only take one moment one day at a time. I'm not sure that's my personal go to plan because some days feel like lifetimes!  Maybe though is it better to remember the Monkey we call life is messy and gets great joy in making us messy and to be okay with it. In feeing like we have to juggle everything without dropping, dripping, spilling anything, getting dirty and doing it immaculatly...

Remember to get dirty....to get messy with the Monkey. If it spills, drops or crashes while you deal, then take a moment to relax, maybe fingerpaint in the mess before you pick back up and deal again.  Your sanity will thank you for it.

My messy Monkeys aren't disappearing at the end of the day or week....things will be messy for awhile, some maybe even months or longer, but I have to just be okay with the spills and know... the messes will wash out, a little bleach, some water, and maybe a  gin and tonic to celebrate when its all cleaned up....and to challenge in defiance whatever new mess will eventually come this way ♥