My Eyes are Green for Him

He told me that my eyes are green for him, blue for the boys and grey when I'm angry. But they are  only green for him. He said that a couple of months ago after I had commented, to myself, on seeing a picture he had taken of me.

Huh, my eyes are green.

I've always thought that my eyes were an odd color, nondescript really. Not quite blue, not quite grey, not quite green, sort of an unusual amalgamation of the three. They're a lot like water, only reflecting whatever color I happen to be wearing at the time.

From the beginning he's always liked my eyes, because they are happy eyes. And they are, because they reflect the happiness, the gladness and the thankfulness I feel having him in my life as my husband. They will continue to be happy, and green, every time I look at him.

Happy Anniversary, Dear.

November 18, 1989

The Run Through

Tuesday night Kohai had a run through for his upcoming Yonkyu test for Aikido. He's been working on this for some time now and I know the Hubs has been a little anxious about it. I have too to some extent. Let's face it, we all want our children to succeed in what ever they do.

I think every parent has been through that nail-biting moment when their kid has that big shot to make, solo to play, or test to ace. And we know they can do it because they've made that shot a 100 times in practice, they can play that solo forwards and backwards, and answer every practice question correctly.

But as parents some times we let a little doubt creep in. We don't mean to it's just that as adults we over think things, take too many things into consideration, and factor in all the myriad of possibilities that something will go wrong. We're too busy thinking what if, instead of just living in that moment the way our kids will do.

The Hubs and I have a hard time with over thinking things where Kohai is concerned because of his ADHD and autism. He has an uphill battle with staying focused and paying attention. There are days when he's in the zone and he will amaze you and you're like, "Yes!" It's there, you know he's got it, but then there are days that no matter what you do, you just cannot keep his focus.

That night it was a relatively small class with familiar faces for him, people he's trained with before and has a comfort with. It was a relaxed, easy going class and before the end it was announced that Kohai would have his run through now, but they would do so with formality. Formality? Is this the actual test without actually saying it's the test?

It was as a matter of fact, and he did so well that Sensei decided to give him the rank of Yonkyu. He was amazing.

My Moment of Zen

My eyes! The goggles do nothing!

Senpai had an appointment with the optometrist and had his eyes dilated yesterday. Having never experienced his eyes being dilated before, the doctor explained to him that things will be a little fuzzy for a few hours. As we get in the car he turns and asks, "Is this what it's like being you?"

That Time Senpai Spoke in Tongues

He turns 16 today, my firstborn, officially this morning at 4:45 a.m. Life since Senpai came along has never been dull, I'll give you that. From the high-risk pregnancy with gestational diabetes that developed during my first trimester to the 72 hours of labor on down to his first stitches before the age of one, yes, our lives have definitely been entertaining to say the least.

Last night at dinner while sitting across from this boy who, it seems like over night, has turned into a handsome young man, I started remembering all his escapades when he was little. From the time he punched me square in the nose after seeing a commercial for the movie Deep Blue Sea, I guess it must have scared him. Or the time he wanted to help me out by "feeding the goggies" and poured a whole pound bag of sugar in the dog's bowl. Oh, and the time that I thought he was convulsing on the kitchen floor, turned out he was pretending to be Frodo from The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring.

Then there was that time Senpai spoke in tongues. He must have been about five or six years old at the time. The Hubs and I were in bed one night, the boys had been tucked in their own beds ages ago. All of a sudden the Hubs heard a faint noise, listening carefully he discerned it was one of our sons talking. It was Senpai. The Hubs laid there when all of a sudden he felt the hair on the back of his neck raise, was our firstborn speaking in Hebrew?! Yeah, Hebrew! Amongst the gibberish that was being spoken, the Hubs heard Senpai say Adonai, which in Hebrew means master.

Admittedly the Hubs was a little more than freaked by this Audrey Rose moment. To whom was our firstborn conversing with and why did he refer to this individual as "master"? Inquiring minds really wanted to know. I mean, it's not every day that your child starts speaking in another language. The Hubs got out of bed and ventured toward the boys' bedroom door. Staring at the door, hand poised over the door knob, he was seriously creeped out by the scene he might find on the other side. As the light from the open door poured into the room, he saw Kohai peacefully asleep on the bottom bunk and there was Senpai on the top bunk, wide awake and singing to a song on his iPhone. Relieved and chagrined all at the same time, the Hubs told Senpai to turn his phone off and get to sleep.

That song Senpai was singing to was The Walrus Song by The Ponkies. It was and is a favorite of the boys. I don't know where the Hubs found it, but he thought it was cute and the boys would get a kick out of it. First of all it is a love song, a silly love that this guy has for a walrus, oh, and I need to mention here that it is also sung in Japanese. You see what the Hubs thought he heard wasn't Adonai, but Abunai, which means danger, watch out. Yeah, out of all that gibberish that Senpai was singing, the only words he could properly pronounce were Abunai and Aishite Imasu, which means I love you.

It blows my mind that it has been sixteen years since this interesting creature has come into our lives. Seems like only yesterday that he was being placed in my arms, little did I know what an adventure it would be. A dull moment, who needs 'em.

Happy birthday, Senpai. Aishite imasu.

An Unexpected Journey

We all take a chance when we walk out our front door of the unexpected. Kinda like the advice Bilbo Baggins gives Frodo.

“It’s a dangerous business ... going out of your door ... if you don’t keep your feet, there is no telling where you might be swept off to.”

Truer words were never spoken. Since the boys' birthdays are a week and two days apart, we decided to celebrate the Saturday in between. They invited a couple of their good buds for pizza, bowling and fun. Little did we know as we were being escorted to our table/lane, there would be a group of Furries directly across from of us.

The Hubs had to ask if they were mascots or Furries and were they celebrating a birthday. They were Furries and no, they were not celebrating a birthday. They get together monthly to bowl. There was one girl that came as far as Commerce.

This was my first experience with Furries, I mean I had heard of them. They seemed a  happy, friendly bunch really. Sorta reminded me of Scarborough Faire folks, but without all the "Huzzahs!" They even suggested we take a picture of them with the boys, since it was their birthday party.

Now if you were to tell me that I'd be running into a group of Furries at a bowling alley, I'd have rolled my eyes and given you a whatevs. Seriously, never in a thousand years would I have thought I'd be in contact with Furries outside the Internet, but I kept my feet, went with the flow and a good time was had by all.

Birth of a Muse

It was fourteen years ago today that I gave birth to my muse. I love to take pictures of my sons. They are both very photogenic. At a young age, Senpai knew what a camera was and would immediately stop, pose and give me a grin. Kohai on the other hand was much more difficult to photograph. He was constantly on the move, fidgety and very easily distracted. So out of the two, Kohai is definitely my challenge and therefore my muse.

If I told Kohai that he was my muse I'm sure he'd duck his head in embarrassment, after asking what exactly a muse was. Every single photo I have ever taken was and is a battle, and for the very few that actually come out, a monumental victory. It's not easy trying to capture a free and unwilling spirit, but when the light is just right, the angle perfect and there is a total unawareness, the shot can be magical. At least for me anyway.

I've learned a lot over these fourteen years of photographing Kohai, that he must be treated gently. He's not one for taking direction, so I give him very little. All I ask of him is not look into the camera lens, I find that gives him a little ease from feeling like he has to perform. Being a skittish subject, I must rely on my own keen sense of knowing when the time is right to take the shot. It's much like photographing wildlife, I lay in wait patiently for the right moment and hope that I don't spook him.

If I'm lucky to snap off a shot of one of his smiles, it just brightens my day and is a balm to my soul. But those photos of him being him, totally intrigue me. There's no mischievous grin, no pose, no subterfuge, he's just Kohai. You can read so many things just from his eyes, but you'll never truly know what he's thinking. I never know what I'm going to get when I take his picture, but it will always be interesting. So happy birthday my challenge, my muse, my son. Here's to many more pictures to come.

It's All in the Reflexes

Heading home down the highway from a doctor visit yesterday, Kohai and I witnessed an accident. We were traveling down the middle lane, minding our own business discussing the silver-lining to the fact we had to be reschedule this appointment, when I saw a truck swerve wildly about seven car lengths in front of us.

It's weird how things like this seem to happen in slow motion, but I'm positive that it was mere seconds. The sound of tire wheels screeching, the crunch of a car slamming into a bumper, debris flying and bouncing off the pavement, it was a slow macabre dance between steel machines choreographed by the reflexes of their human drivers. 

Before my left foot depressed the clutch to be followed by my right on the brake; before checking to my left to see if the car next to me would be swerving into my lane; before I glanced to my right to see if I had an out from the car coming into my lane; before I looked in the rear-view mirror to wonder if I would be rear ended by some jerk riding my ass; my right arm shot out to protect Kohai.

Logically I knew that my arm protecting Kohai wouldn't have mattered in an accident, but the protective mother reflex is powerful. The fight or flight instinct, most often fight, is encoded in all mothers. Just hope you don't get on the wrong end of a mama protecting her baby. I don't care if that baby is an hour old or thirty years old, you'll be in for the fight of your life.

I'm not knocking fathers, I know that they have this protective reflex too, an inherent need to protect their young, their family. I just think that mothers have a feral need, a fierceness, a ruthlessness even when it comes to protecting our babies. Nothing will stand in our way to make sure our offspring are safe, we'll move heaven and hell to do it.

Because of reflexes no one was hurt and only three cars were affected instead of many. Wondering just what made that truck swerve in the first place, I slowly made my way through the debris as drivers got out to assess the damage. My limbs were a little shaky from the adrenaline dump and I released a sigh of relief that we came out unscathed.

I think it might have been a mile or so from the accident before Kohai made me aware that I was still holding him protectively.

Ach du lieber, es ist Oktoberfest

We took a short jaunt north to downtown McKinney to check out their Oktoberfest. Boy, it was crowded, but we had fun visiting the shops on the square. The Hubs sampled some of the local brew, I did too but just a couple of sips, we ate bratwurst, watched the weiner dog races and stood in lots of lines. Enjoy the pics.

Ah, Deutschland!

Some of the locals got into the spirit of the weekend.

That hat works with the Oakleys

All he needs now are lederhosen to complete his look.

Yeah, both boys would look so adorable in lederhosen. Like the Von Trapp children.

Now this is what I'm talking about! Beer and chocolate ... woo hoo!! The giraffe is cool too.

Give a hoot.

The woolly hat is a good look for you, Senpai.

My Whovian loves getting his picture taken. I know it's subtle, but you can see it in his eyes.

Who doesn't need a big ol' felt chicken on their head? Visit their website, they sell T-shirts too!

This Oktoberfest came with a lemur. A naughty lemur, he spent most of his time licking himself. 

Senpai's Oktoberfest mug. Filled with root beer of course.

I need to visit this antique shop again. They had some pretty cool Halloween decor going on.

Kohai had to visit the Star Wars shop on the square before we left. This is his Tiffany's.

Remember, always let the Wookie win.

Whoa, think you've had one too many, buddy. Best that you sleep it off and call in sick tomorrow.
Hey, that's not a bad idea, calling in sick I mean.

Crank it in 5-4-3-2-1

The workout last night. I. AM. SORE!

I have a love/hate relationship with a male disembodied voice. I have dubbed him Mr. Crank-It, let me explain. Whenever we have a timed circuit exercise program at the gym there is this pre-recorded male voice, not unlike Siri (she I loathe with a passion, here and here is why), that comes on over the blaring music to inform us when to begin, when we've reached the halfway mark, to stop and move on to the next station and how many rounds we've completed.

Crank it in 5 - 4 - 3 - 2 - 1

Let the games begin! Admittedly the first round isn't so bad, but with each subsequent round, yeah, I start feeling the hate and love toward Mr. Crank-It. Here's my inner dialogue.

You have completed two rounds.

Really, only two?! Criminy, there's two more to go!! I HATE you, Mr Crank-It. (Abs are on fire, sweat is rolling down my nose, arms shaking with fatigue) For the love of Pete, aren't we at the halfway point yet?!

Halfway

Yes, there's an end in sight, I LOVE you, Mr. Crank-It! Only 25 seconds left and I get a break.

Stop

Thank you! Oh, my arms and glutes are killing me. I don't know which is worse, Spiderman lunges or wall balls? I'm going to have to toss a coin on this one, I can't decide.

Halfway

What?! Nooooo! Halfway already?! But I want a drink of water. Daaaaang, I got 10 seconds to get a drink and haul my glutes to the next station.

Go

Now just hold your horses there Mr. Crank-It, let me grab a weight for Pete's sake! Oh crap, OLY lunges are the worst, yeah definitely the worst.

And on and on it goes until blessedly Mr. Crank-It announces ...

Stop. You have completed four rounds.

(Panting, fatigued and drenched with sweat) Oh, Thank you, thank you. It's over.

Pause

Well okay then, same time tomorrow, Mr. Crank-It?

Well good morning, Glutes! You too, Biceps!

In Fond Remembrance of Me

We can never resist the Halloween aisle.

Last night after dinner we paid our local Kroger's with a visit to pick up a few things. When it is late at night we can sometimes get pretty silly, last night was no exception.

Senpai: Mother, Moootheeer, Moooooooootheeeer, Moooooooooooom.

Me: (in a strangled whisper) Whaaaaaaat?!

Senpai: Hi.

Me: You know, I worry about you. Sometimes I wake up in a cold sweat and scream, "Senpai!"

As we walked away from the cheese aisle, the Hubs and I quoting Monty Python, I playfully kicked Senpai on the butt.

Senpai: You kicked my butt!

Me: It's what I do. I kick ass.

Senpai: My mother the ass-kicker.

Me: Yeah, I want that as an epitaph on my tombstone.

Senpai: Beloved Wife, Mother and Ass-Kicker?

Me: It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

Shearing of the Lamb

It was a year ago that the Grand Experiment began. Kohai wanted to grow his hair long to eventually pull it back into a ponytail so we decided to indulge him. I think mostly out of curiosity to see how far this would go. It didn't turn out the way he wanted it to, sad to say.

You see, he didn't have long, straight flowing locks, but a mass of long, curly ringlets. His hair was gorgeous and envied by all, mostly me. My hair is curly, but not this kind of curly. If left alone to its own devices to air dry, my hair is a fluffy cloud of waves and curls that looks more like a lion's mane. And that's why I blow it out, straighten, then curl it, much to the confusion and amusement of the Hubs.

But enough about my hair woes, on to Kohai's. Every one loved his curls but him. He hated them and the compliments that it would garner. He doesn't take a compliment very well, he would get so embarrassed any time people would fawn over his hair. And fawn they would, everyone from aunts, grandmothers, teachers and girls in his classes.

For the past few weeks he's been asking for a haircut, and for the past few weeks we've been asking if he was positively sure that was what he wanted. He was positive. His hair was too much trouble for him, he wanted it short again. So on Saturday I mournfully took him to our local barber for his haircut.

It was a younger barber that had the task of cutting his hair. He looked a little daunted by Kohai's mass of curls and as he stared contemplating a strategy for cutting, I asked him a favor. There were grandmothers, aunts and probably a couple of his teachers that would want a lock of his hair, so I presented the barber with a baggie to see if he could fill it with a few memento curls.

I know Kohai felt a pound lighter than when he went in, and I have to say he looks even handsomer with shorter hair. This isn't a mother's bias talking, I can't help it if I have a good looking kid. I'm sure I'll hear all about the reaction to his new look at school when I get home this evening.

There was a draw back to having a shorter haircut he discovered, his neck gets cold. I told him he could either grow his hair out again or invest in some turtle neck shirts. Think he's choosing to live with it.

Are You There God? It's Me ...

Have you ever had a dream that you woke up from and thought, "What was that all about?!" That was the question I asked out loud to an empty bedroom this morning. Here's the dream in a nutshell: I'm in a public place, a restaurant to be exact, having lunch with a friend of mine, and I am totally naked!

It was a bizarre feeling being amongst a room full of people, one of which a good friend, completely and totally naked as the day I was born. Everyone was so exasperated with my fidgeting attempts to cover myself, and more than once my friend asked, "What is wrong with you?" Can't you see that I'm naked? What's wrong with you? Thinking you're vulnerable is the worst feeling in the world.

The question now is, what is my subconscious trying to tell me? Why am I feeling exposed? Could it perhaps be the fact that our church life group leaders have asked the Hubs and I to assist in leadership? Hmm, think we've got a winner here! They sent us an email Saturday and asked us to think about it, no pressure. Obviously it has been on my mind.

Let me get a few things out in the open about myself: Hi, I'm Kels and I'm an introvert. I feel so much better getting that off my chest. You see as a little girl, I was labeled as shy. I wouldn't necessarily say that I was or am, I mean once I get to know and am comfortable with you, I can be pretty extroverted, but that's the key. It takes time for me to warm up to folks. I'm the one that's always on the peripheral of any situation, hugging the walls, scouting and doing a little reconnaissance before joining the group.

It's the one-on-one chit-chat that I hate. You know, small talk. I don't do it very well and I always seem to run out of things to say. Once I get to conversing on the weather, that's all she wrote, I've got nothing after that. It's kinda funny really, all through high school and college, I was in theatre and speech. You wouldn't guess that of an introvert, but I would much rather stand in front of a hundred people to give a monologue, speech or even debate, than have a one-on-one conversation.

That's probably what makes the Hubs and I work as a couple. He's the extrovert in this relationship and the more prolific of the two of us, which I am more than fine with. He does most of the talking so I can stand back to take in everything, and when I'm comfortable I'll join. That's one of the many beautiful things about our marriage that clicks for us.

Back to my subconscious, I would be lying if I didn't say it feels a little daunting taking a leadership role in the church. My introverted personality aside, I don't mind taking a leadership role in any situation, but church? I'm scared that I don't know scripture well enough, I feel so unworthy, and I know this will sound incredibly silly, but this is a real fear for me: praying in public. I am so uncomfortable praying out loud in public.

I'm a weirdo I know, but I have always felt that praying is something private, between me and God. Throw in a room full of people, and now I have to speak with God out loud, I can't find the words. Thinking about it fills me with such an anxiety that I am this close (you can't see, but my fingers are less than an inch apart) to hyperventilating. Good gravy, I have trouble saying the blessing before dinner in front of the Hubs and the boys, do I sound like the type of person who should lead a prayer group?

I feel a lot like I did in my dream, naked, vulnerable and nobody can see. I know full well it's a fact of life that we all have to step out of our comfort zone sometimes, and that God doesn't give us more than we can handle. I'll be thinking about this leadership role and praying, privately, about it, but I already have a feeling though that we'll be taking this on. I really can't see us backing down from this challenge, regardless of my fears (I know the Hubs has his own fears). It's just ...

When the time comes, God, please, please help me find the words.

My Moment of Zen

Perhaps it's not such a good idea watching a creepy ghost haunting show while I'm home alone. During a thunderstorm ... in the dark.

And We All Laughed Uncomfortably

I thought these books were so stinking cute!

Yesterday was Kohai's school open house and book fair. The PTA meeting was to start at 5:45 p.m. followed by the open house at 6 p.m. That meant I had to book it home from work with just enough time to unload my stuff, and sit in the living room for a few minutes catching up with my guys. To see how everyone's day had gone and to give the pugs their daily quota of pats and belly rubs.

The TV was on the Science Channel and Kohai was watching How It's Made when a commercial came on, and he asked a question.

Kohai: What is erectile die-function?

Hubs: You mean dysfunction?

Kohai: Yeah, I mean dysfunction. Is that when a guy can't get a boner?

A small silence followed by uncomfortable laughter.

Hubs: Yes, yes it is.

Me: (looking right at Kohai) Where did you hear that?

Hubs: What die-function or boner?

Me: (more laughter and rolling my eyes)

Because of his Aspergers, Kohai has no filters so he'll just bust out and ask any question, no matter the relevance or the situation. The Hubs and I agreed long before we had kids that we'd always encourage them to ask us any and all questions they may have, even the uncomfortable ones. The boys know that and they have, but out of the two of them I will say this though, Kohai keeps us on our toes. 

And thanks to products like and advertisements for Cialis, Levitra, Kotex and Always, I'm sure we'll have plenty more fits of uncomfortable laughter. Keep those questions coming, Kohai!

Bring Me Back Something Good

Back when I used to work in the student life department, I would go to conferences all over the southwest region at various colleges and universities. Before we had kids I would always bring the Hubs back a shirt from that institution, then I had the boys and I'd usually bring them back a mascot fluffy.

When Kohai was little, before I would leave on one of those trips, he would use the line from one of his favorite movies, Dennis the Menace, "bring me back something good." The Hubs was out in California last weekend for an Aikido seminar, and in between sessions he'd text me. I thought I'd be funny and asked him to "bring us back something good."

Well, he didn't disappoint. Before he left the golden state he visited Japan town and brought us back some pretty nifty things. I got a bar of bamboo charcoal soap with cedar wood essential oils. It smells so good and leaves the skin feeling super soft.

He also brought us each back a bronze fuchin. What ever is a bronze fuchin, you ask? Well, essentially it is a scroll weight. These weights would keep the scroll from rolling onto itself while painting or drawing calligraphy.

We got our gifts Tuesday morning before the boys and I left for school and work. Kohai got his gift first, the otter. Ever since Kohai had seen the otters at Moody Gardens when he was little, he's been fascinated by them. He had picked out a stuffed otter that day and it was his go to fluffy until years later when our home was broken into, just two weeks before Christmas, and it was stolen. We think it might have been taken by mistake, you see Ottie, that was his name, was on top of the comforter and the thieves used it to haul away most of our electronics.

That was a very sad day when Kohai lost his Ottie, but when he opened that box and saw the otter his whole face light up with the biggest smile. The Hubs told him that as soon as he saw that otter he knew it was meant for Kohai. Senpai was presented with the owl which he found very cool and I received the crane of peace, which is not only a scroll weight but can also be used as an incense-holder.

The Hubs did a fine job of bringing us back something good.

Ottie gone but not forgotten.

Mischief Managed

Look at that face. He is cute as the dickens, isn't he? He's a little rascal too. The other day I came out of the bedroom and noticed one of my black flats on the pug's bed. Shorty is a notorious shoe chewer, believe me, he has destroyed many. I didn't readily see Shorty but I knew he was close by and had just recently been gnawing on my shoe, the tell-tell dog slobber was a dead give away. As I do for my sometimes wayward sons, I said his full name in my best reproachful-mother-voice, to what I thought was an empty living room.

Short Round.

I noticed a slight movement by the coffee table, it was Shorty. Crouched down with his tail tucked between his legs, he was painstakingly trying to make his way from the scene of the crime unnoticed. It didn't work. Lifting one paw at a time as if he were walking through molasses, he slowly made his way to the kitchen, the whole time thinking "If I just stay low enough and not bring too much attention to myself, I could make a clean getaway."

Short Round, you know you're not supposed to chew on shoes.

Still totally unaware that I could see him, Shorty stops in mid-stride. Frozen in time with one paw still in the air as if in tableaux, he crouches even lower and starts slinking his way to the kitchen. He's pretty short as pugs go so he's already close to the floor, but at this point his poor belly was dragging. It's funny how dogs are so much like toddlers, you know like when they haven't quite figured out that sound carries from one room to the other.

Shorty.

At this point he stops, fully aware that the jig is up and just lays there on the floor staring at me with those big brown sorrowful eyes. As a parent I know the difficulty in trying to be stern with a child that is in trouble, but is just so stinking cute and the situation terribly funny. I didn't have the heart to be too tough on Shorty, but I didn't want to spare the rod and spoil the dog so to speak. So with my shoe still in hand, I gave his rump a light little tap and picked him up to look into his face.

Oh Round, don't be chewing on shoes.

I got the same remorseful look that I would get from my boys, and I'm sure if he could speak he'd have said, "Yes, Ma'am."

First Day of School

I vividly remember Senpai's first day of kindergarten and how very nervous I was about it. The feeling came back when it was Kohai's first day. I had all the mom fears about my little ones going off into the big wide world of elementary school, but I got through it like every mom does. After that, it was kinda routine the first day of school.

Then it was time for Senpai to start middle school and again that nervousness was back. Middle school was awful for me and I was expecting it would be the same for Senpai. My fears were unfounded. He made it through 6th grade with flying colors, however I was a total WRECK when Kohai started middle school.

As I've mentioned before, Kohai has Asperger Syndrome. At the age of eight he was diagnosed and falls under the high-functioning scale of the autism spectrum. Because of the autism he didn't quite fit in with his peers in elementary school. He had an easier time relating to his teachers and counselors than with his classmates.

He was a bit of an outcast in elementary, and fortunately at the time he was unaware of this fact. Kohai was very affable and thought that everyone was his friend. Now that he's older and has learned to pick up on more social cues, he understands that those kids weren't his friends. I was so afraid that he would end up being an outcast again when he moved on to middle school.

Luckily the Hubs came up with a strategy. Have Kohai be up front about his autism, make his peers aware that this is the reason his behavior might seem different, why the tics and stemming may appear weird to them. Oh, and that autism was not contagious.

So we sent him off to 6th grade armed with his little speech and hoped for the best. It worked like a charm. The teachers were so impressed with him and he made a few friends that day. Now that he's entering the 8th grade his circle of friends has expanded and he even has a girl that he likes that shares his interest in all things Dr. Who.

Senpai starting second grade and Kohai kindergarten.

I knew there was a reason why I married such a wise man. It is too bad that he's out of town and missing out on the first day of school, but he's here in spirit. He texted first thing this morning.

Hubs: Good morning.

Me: Hey Sweetie. We're getting ready for school.

Hubs: How are the boys?

Me: It took me three tries to get Senpai up. He's washed and dressed. Kohai is in the shower now.

Hubs: Give them both an embarrassingly long hug and kiss from me. I miss them both and am sorry not to be there today.

Me: I will. I'll be taking my usual first day of school pic and send it to you.

Senpai: Good morning, dad.

Kohai: Morning.

Hubs: Good morning, boys. Have a great first day of school!

Kohai: Okay.

Hubs: Kohai, don't forget to introduce yourself and let people know about your Aspergers. It's important and it helps people understand what a great guy you are.

Kohai: Okay.

Hubs: Senpai, establish good habits starting TODAY to carry you throughout the year.

Senpai: Yes, sir.

Senpai starting his Sophomore year and Kohai going into 8th grade.

This morning I wasn't nervous at all as I took Kohai to school. We're old pros at the first day of school, I just don't think I have the patience to wait to hear all about it.

My Moment of Zen

This makes my day. I know, I'm simple.