New Beginnings

Hey! Notice anything different around here?

I am sooooo excited about my blog's new look! Hubby designed my header for me and I think he did a fabulous job. That's a painting of me when I was a little girl, done by my grandmother (mom's mom). Then add some photos of - who else? - Sweetie and me across the way (all of which just happen to color coordinate oh so well with the painting!) And I just love that picture of Sweetie in the twirly ride thing. Such a great photo, I just had to include it!

However, in making over my blog, I lost everything in terms of comments people have left on my posts as well as my many different categories of blog rolls. I've started to redo them, as you can see over to your right. But there's ton more to add. Especially in terms of posting links to sites about Parenting with a Disability, Spina Bifida, and other random but important links I used to have and now have to reacquire. Ugh.

In that vein, if you are reading this and either, A) used to be on my blog roll and now see that you're gone, or B) can direct me to some great blogs and/or sites of interest for my specific topic(s), then please, by all means do leave me a comment with your information and I'll get to adding you right away. Thanks so much! And remember, in terms of blogs, I'm mostly wanting to keep to the topic of parenting and/or raising special kids and/or being an amazing adult. Having a cooking or knitting blog listed in the middle of other on-topic blogs, I feel, would not fit in well at all. Thanks!

And, in other news, Sweetie started 2nd grade this past Wednesday! Can you believe it?! What, she was about 2 years old when i started this blog? Maybe 1 1/2??? Now she's 7 1/2 and so excited to be back in the classroom, catching up with her friends and waiting to see what great things will happen this school year.

Here's to a great school year! We're excited too, Sweetie, to see you learn and grow and create every day in lots of little ways. You make us so proud!

I Wanna Hold Your Hand

Around the time that Hubby and I got married, my grandfather sent us a newspaper clipping from Dear Abby. "'Make love" every day wife's advice," shouts the headline. Hmm. Wow, how progressive of my grandfather to send us such advice!

Upon reading the letter, though, you find out that what the wife in question is really advising, after 50 years of marriage, is that it's the little acts of love that really hold a marriage together. A smile across a room. a hug, a "special look." Hand holding. If you do all that - and more - your marriage, and love, will make it through "better and worse."

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Sweetie goes to bed every night, and I am done. I may be sitting there on the couch, but I am "done" for the day. Hubby tries to talk to me. Tries to make me smile, laugh, simply just engage in conversation with him. And I don't respond. Don't want to respond. Can't respond. Not in the mood. Just done. More nights than not, this is our experience. Hubby at the computer, around the corner from me, and I on the couch. Watching T.V. and playing on my Ipod. Or he gets the T.V. - usually watching nothing I'm interested in in the least - and I'm on the computer, or up to a bath, or doing dishes, or up to bed. Our interactions, as I said, are minimal at best. This, unfortunately, is our "typical," after Sweetie goes to bed.

But, as we close in on 11 years of marriage this fall, I have to tell you I love him just as much as ever, if not more so. And as the Dear Abby clipping hangs on our fridge to this day, we do abide by its teachings to "make love every day."

- Ever since I can remember with Hubby - before he was Hubby! - we have always kissed each other 3 quick times in a row. Our wedding day kiss was three quick kisses! (okay, maybe 2 quick kisses, with the 3rd being a bit longer, but still...) Every morning he still kisses me goodbye with those three kisses. "Why do you give Mommy 3 kisses and I only get one?" Sweetie recently asked him? "Because I've always given her 3 kisses. It's our thing," was his matter of fact response.

- If we do watch T.V. together after Sweetie's in bed, you can almost guarantee that it's a "murder show" (CSI, Castle, etc....) and we both enjoy our time together, figuring out the mystery of how the given murder was committed and by whom. We'll also usually be playing Scrabble together (well, together on our Ipods) at the same time. And I'll be fixing Hubby's feet with a foot rub after his long workday standing on concrete basement floors. Not my most favorite thing to do in the world, by any means, but something he loves and needs. After his working so hard, then coming home to cook us dinner (a great act of love on his part), he deserves a little love and attention from me.

- I'm almost always asleep by the time Hubby comes to bed. He stays up until midnight or so every night, and I'm out cold earlier in the 11 o'clock hour. But if I am awake, I'm just coherent enough to roll over in bed so that he can wrap his arms around me. He claims to not be able to sleep without holding me, and I can't completely settle for the night without his warm, comforting squeeze.

- Our new money management ritual is definitely an act of love. Every day we now hand over receipts, and generally let each other know if money was spent. Every Friday night we now sit together and look at our finances. For the now, for the upcoming week, and for the upcoming month. We figure out what we can send to certain "big debt" bills. We see together just exactly where we stand. I no longer solely take care of the checking book - a situation that often left me scared of our standings and afraid to admit to Hubby the truth of the matter. But, wow! It turns out this little act of what-doesn't-really-seem-like-love-but-definitely-is, is so amazing. It really is so much better to work together as a force than to be scared alone.

- And then, when we go out together, for any purpose - typical daily errands, the rare date night, whatever - you can bet that Hubby and I are always, always, holding hands.

Yes, I'd say that the number one reason for this little act of love is for him to help me get around easier. After all, I can be so much faster and more stable on my feet if holding someone's hand. And I almost require a hand hold when going up an incline of some sort. It just makes my mobility that much more safe and secure.

But even so - yes, you could say that he "has to" hold my hand to help me. So what?! After being together for more than a decade - and just like our 3 quick kisses - it's just become something we don't even think about. Just something we do. It's our thing. And it's a wonderful act of love. Not just him towards me, since he's "helping me out." But a mutual act of love toward each other.

Back in the days when he and I were newly dating, and I was still on crutches after major back surgery some months earlier, we were leaving the movie theater one night and he lamented not being able to hold my hand because of my holding onto my crutches. Later that summer when we went miniature golfing, we both realized how well I could get around without my crutches and just using the golf club as my walking stick.

I do believe it was from that day on - well, very shortly after that day, anyway - that I "graduated" to using a Hubby-made walking stick as my main walking support. No more crutches! And - finally - the ability to hold hands with each other.

And we're still holding hands. To this very day.

So as we approach our "Happy 11" anniversary (our first date was on the 11th of April, so month after month, we'd celebrate "Happy 11" mini anniversaries), I admit that, in several ways, our marriage has settled into a bit of a comfortable groove. A place where we don't necessarily talk meaningfully every day. A place where parenthood more often takes the lead over couplehood. A place where either - or both! - of us can just be "done" by the time we finally get Sweetie settled into bed. Work, and Sweetie, and life in general has tired us out for the day.

But it's all okay.

We still have my grandfather's newspaper clipping hanging on our fridge. We still heed it's advice. We still "make love every day" in so many little ways.

I wanna hold hold your hand for the rest of my life, Hubby. Thank you for holding mine.

Big Questions

The other night I started reading Superfudge by Judy Blume to Sweetie as her bedtime book. But as soon as I started reading, I saw evidence of a Big Question that was going to be asked by little Fudge.

Where do babies come from?

I actually stopped reading and asked Sweetie if she was sure she wanted to pick this book for me to read. After all, it's really for kids a bit older - like 4th or 5th grade. Maybe she'd prefer to read it on her own when she was older.

"No, I want you to read it now. And maybe by the time I'm older, I'll have forgotten it and I can read it on my own then too."

Okay. Here we go...

But, unlike Fudge's question to his parents, Sweetie asked me nothing. Okay, then. Good.

...Until Daddy read the second chapter to her last night. HE got "the question." And HE gave her silly answers. Answers she knew were too silly to be correct. Apparently, she wouldn't give up, but Daddy just told her he'd keep on giving her silly answers, so just stop asking.

Hmph... if it were me, I would have given her my most appropriate response for her age and her specific question. Or at least, that's what I'd like to have thought I'd done.

So today I've been prepping myself. Researching what to say to a child of her age when she asks the Big Question. I think I'm prepared now. IF she asks again.... Heaven knows I'm not going to bring up the subject myself quite yet!

But beyond this classic Big Question that all parents must forge their way through in one way or another, I know that Sweetie will surely be asked some pretty Big Questions herself about another topic... Me.

Questions from her peers about why her mom walks funny. Why does she wears those things on her legs. Why does she use a stick to help her walk.

And maybe - we told Sweetie recently when we were having a family discussion about bullies - these questions would be asked in a mean way by kids who were trying to pick on her for having a mom like me.

(To which Sweetie looked incredulously at me, with a heartfelt, "But why?! Just because someone needs to wear braces on their legs doesn't mean they're not a nice person or a good mom! Maybe they will grow up and have to wear braces on their legs! They shouldn't pick on you! That's not nice!"... That's my girl!)

Now, it's not like Sweetie hasn't dealt with this already - or like I haven't written about this already. In fact, I clearly remember picking her up from preschool one day when the kids crowded around me and started - innocently, but curiously - asking me questions. To which Sweetie quickly piped up and started giving her matter of fact answer that these extra things I have help me walk because my legs aren't as strong as everyone else's.

But now, it's just that the older she gets, the much more likely it is - I feel - that she will start to feel the effects, negatively, of having a disabled mom. At least as far as peer relations go.

As far as Sweetie herself goes, I know her to be a strong, independent, creative kid who really couldn't give a hoot about fitting in with the "in" kids or doing something with her classmates just because "everyone else" is doing it. In fact, that's something both her kindergarten and 1st grade teachers have pointed out to us. Sweetie doesn't really have any close friends in her class.... she much prefers to choose an activity to get involved in purely based on the activity itself, not because of which other kids are involved in said activity.

"Oh, playing tag looks like fun! Jimmy, Jon and Jen are playing tag? Okay! I'll play that with them!"

So if Sweetie happens to be picked on for some issue solely concerning herself... her lack of a best friend, her always wanting to play Super (Sweetie), her love of the colors pink & green - whatever! - I'm pretty confident that she'll take it in stride and not let it get her down. At least not too much, that is.

But when it comes to being picked on because of someone else related to her - especially her mom! - well, I just don't know if that will roll off her back so easily.

Her very reaction to my suggestion that such a thing may happen proved to me A) how outlandish she knows it is to pick on anyone just because they're different, and B) that it really is hurtful to hear others making fun of someone you love.

Who knows... for now she may still be just fine. After all, she's still pretty young and she's been with this same group of kids since she started school (granted, that's only 2 years now.) From my personal experience growing up, I know I felt comfortable - albeit pretty dang shy nonetheless - from kindergarten to 4th grade because I started off with that group of kids and they got to know me well enough and look past my disability. It wasn't until moving to a new state and new group of classmates in 5th grade that I became ultra shy and feeling much, much more different than everyone else around me. Likewise with Sweetie - hopefully the kids she's with now, who are the only kids she's been with, do and will continue to accept her for the awesome, independent, great kid she is and not think twice about painting her in a different light just because her mom is "so different."

But we will be moving again. Probably next summer. Possibly later. But we will move. In fact, I'm not thrilled with what I've heard about her school in terms of the older elementary grades, and certainly not the middle/high school. Hubby and I want to get her out of this school before too long. So inevitably, she will be faced with all new faces. Friends, bullies and peers.

I'm not looking forward to the day Sweetie comes home crying for any reason that another kid would intend to make her upset. Whether it's within the first few weeks of 2nd grade, or the last weeks of senior year in high school. To have your child so hurt by someone else's words and/or actions - well, I know it's going to hurt me just as much as it hurts her.

We don't want to force the issue now. But we want her to be aware, too. And we definitely want her to know that, no matter what, both Daddy and I are here for her to talk to anytime about anything. If she's doing great at school and making friends and having fun, great! Tell us about it! If she talks back to a bully who's trying to hurt someone else's feelings - and it works to shut the bully up! - let us know! We're proud of her for sticking up for someone else (even if it doesn't work and possibly gets herself in some trouble.) And if a bully tries to pick on her for any reason at all - including the sole reason of having such a different mom - then we need to hear about that as well.

No matter what, together we can talk things out, and sort out feelings and answers to big, difficult questions and situations. Together, we can help each other through anything.

May you always keep strong, Sweetie. May our communication paths always remain open. And may the Big Questions of life dwindle in size and scariness when worked out together in love.

Tag - You're It!

After being on Facebook for a couple of years now, I have certainly been well indoctrinated in all the many different types of quizzes found there. Anything from Who Were You In A Past Life? to What's Your Most Dominant Personality Trait? to What Your Favorite Color Says About You.

Yes, I've taken them all. And you know what? Right or wrong, I'm more or less pleased with the outcome.

Yes, I'm an introvert.

Yes, I can be creative.

Yes, I'm a homebody.

Yes, I can be very outgoing, given the right setting.

Yes, I love music and having a good time.

Yes, I can be boring.

Pretty much whatever these silly little quizzes come up with for answers, I can justify that it is the right answer for me.

Whatever. They're just silly little quizzes after all. Created most likely by bored junior high or high school students. Innocent good fun, that's all.

But the thing is, I honestly do think of myself firstly in terms of how people see my personality. I think that people - my friends, my family, strangers on the street, co-workers, random acquaintances - all classify me first by how they interpret my personality.

"Oh, she's the quiet one."

"Oh, she's hard to get to know. Doesn't talk much."

"Amy's fun and smart and a good listener. We have a great time together!"

"Yeah, she's quiet at first, but once you get to know her she really opens up and knows how to have fun."

"Amy's a determined, strong person who doesn't let anything stand in her way. She's awesome!"

"Yeah, I know her. She's okay. Kinda boring, I think. Watches a lot of T.V. Just not my type of person."

You get my drift... Whatever you may think of me, you think of my personality first, right? Of course you do!

But how would you describe me to someone else?

"You know who I'm talking about, right? Amy's that really pretty woman who's kind of quiet but super sweet."

Hmmm... Would be nice. But probably not. Even if I was your best friend, or your relative. Even if I was very special to you and your life. To get another person to quickly recall who I am, let's be honest. You're not going to talk about my personality or even how physically gorgeous I am (ha!).

You're going to say something like. "You remember Amy, right? She's the one with the walking cane and limp."

Yah, yah. You might throw in there that I'm petite. Or add that I'm the "really sweet woman who..." You may even use Sweetie as a definer. Even try that as the sole definer of who I am! But if that doesn't work, you're also going to very quickly get to my most unique characteristic. My disability.

We all do it. When talking about anyone! Our bestest BFF, our spouse, our coworker, or even our worst enemy. We don't intend for it to be harming. We don't mean to be mean. But when something so "out there" is so unique about a person, we use it. And, like I said, depending on how close someone is to you, you may very well try to use more personality-specific means of defining them. But if those don't work, it probably won't be long before you get to the nitty gritty.

"Oh, you remember my friend, Bob? He's the super fun, always smiling one. You know - the really, really big guy?"

"Sally! You know her! She's my really super smart friend. Married to Danny.... she has the really bad teeth."

"You don't remember Amy? She's my really tiny friend. Sweetie's mom. She's quiet and really nice... and she wears leg braces and uses a walking stick to get around."

Now before I go on, I want to say that I am NOT talking about any specific person here and how they may or may not refer to me. In fact, I've simply been thinking about this in general lately. How would someone try to get someone else to remember who I was? Hmmm... they'd probably go right to my disability! Just like anyone would do to talk about anyone else. You use their most unique quality/characteristic/trait.

(And heck, I may be completely and utterly wrong here. What do I know?! It just seems to me that, for ease of recognition, one would tend to go straight to the disability card when describing me to others.)

It's not necessarily wrong. And it certainly may not be meant to hurt. It's just plain and simple human nature. Tagging and classifying people is what we people do best.

I'm just sayin'... it sure would be nice to be noticed and remembered for my stunning good looks, :) , or my brilliance or complete sweetness. For people to notice and remember me for my determination and strength, not my disability and weakened legs.

It's true for all of us, I think. The frustration of people not seeing us how we see ourselves. Yes, in some cases others can see us in a much better light than we see ourselves. We can be raised up and encouraged by our friends and family is this great way.

But other times... you just want to be seen for you being you. For how you define yourself from the inside. Not what you wear, or how you move, or how you're strangely different on the outside.

Exercise - Good For The Whole Family!

Sorry I missed last week. It was a busy weekend and I didn't feel like I had much to say anyway.

It's actually been a pretty busy week too. Sweetie spent her days at Circus Camp! A last minute opportunity we got word of to have her do something fun and unique for a few days. She loved it!!! What a great camp! She learned a lot of great "circus secrets," some new skills (OMG, so many different things she can do with a bandanda! And stand up straight on an exercise ball? No problem!) And there was even a last day of camp show for the parents, so we got to see all the fun things that went on during their days. Sweetie did very well in this little demonstration show. Yup - she and Circus Camp were a really great fit!

I'm still enjoying my new afternoon PT job. And I really feel my legs and back are much better/becoming much stronger for it. One day this past week I worked almost a full day there, and spent about 4 hours of that time almost completely on my feet. With no back brace! (Not for lack of wanting... I can't seem to find it in my house...) BUT - all that time on my feet and NO leg numbness. NO unspeakable back pain. Strong legs and back getting stronger every day! Yeah, these next few days afterward have been a bit sore for me... But not too bad. And I feel my walking is getting stronger too, as I have had moments of walking where my legs do not have to be positioned as widely apart as usual to keep me steady. Also, last night Hubby commented on my posture as we talked - him sitting and me standing. He noticed that my back was really pretty straight - not my usual "thing" where my back is concave and my stomach sticks out a bit. All this and I haven't been to the chiropractor for weeks!!! I don't need no stinking chiropractor! Just give me a warehouse job packing boxes and I am HEALED! Amen!

Let's see, what else... well... I haven't mentioned how well Hubby is doing with his dieting and exercise. Heck - I never even mentioned a word about it in the first place! Well - Hubby has been dieting since January 1st and has gotten back into running within the last 2 months or so. Two things that I've watched him struggle with managing for YEARS! Like, pretty much ever since I've known him. And always, a non-success. Always a gung ho start, with a rather rapid downward trend toward not trying anymore. Always. BUT - now, with the help of the almighty IPod Touch (the ones he and I got from Santa for Christmas), he is, quite literally, a new man!

Give the guy an app. that helps him count calories? Done! 25+ pounds shed and kept off. No problem. Get an app that helps him go from the couch to running a 5K? Alrighty then! He just completed his 8th week of that program. Up every other day at 5:30 a.m. so he can get his run in before work! This, from a Daddy who wants to sleep on the weekends as late as humanly possible. I am very, VERY impressed with this Hubby o' mine. He's lookin' good, feeling better, sleeping better. Seriously - he's a new man.

And it all makes me wonder... what else can this Almighty IPod help him - and I - and us - do?...

... and so I got an app that helps you manage your budget.

We've been using the app for about 2 weeks now. It's going well. If nothing else, it's turning out to be a great tool to see what exactly comes in, and what exactly goes out, and how much of it all is left over in the end. Not to mention the fact that it's just making me a much better minder of the checkbook. Every evening now I have Hubby hand over any receipts he's procured during the day, I've turned our month-at-a-glance wall calendar into a budget calendar (each Monday I write there how much money we have, and bills due are recorded throughout the month on the calendar as well - helping us both see at a glance how much we have each week vs. how much is going out in bill payments... letting us know how much, if anything, is left over for "fun" money - never much.) And I record said receipts in both the checkbook and the new Budget app... then share my app recordings with Hubby. All in all, a very eye-opening exercise, to say the least.

And that, in a nutshell, is what's been going on with the Sweetie & Me family over the last couple weeks.

So, with that... I do have other topics to write on, but not right now. Soon. But not now.

I've got a house to tidy up, a book to finish, and friends coming over this evening for wine and dessert. Lots to do, lots to do...

Until next time... Happy living!

It's Nothing, Really...

There are certain things parents just don't talk about with their children. Heck, there are certain things people don't talk about with other people! Not bad things. Just personal things. It's the social norm to just leave some topics to one's self.

Likewise with spina bifida. There are certain aspects of this birth defect that those who have it simply don't talk about. Not bad things. Just personal things. Similar things, in fact, to "regular" things that "normal" people don't tend to talk about with others. Immediate family members know the specifics. Close but not-so-immediate family members most likely even know. And possibly even very close friends. But, really, these are things that the person with spina bifida lives with but does not discuss.

So, obviously, I'm not about to divulge here what exactly I'm talking about. Most likely my readers with spina bifida will understand what I'm leaving out. But no one else needs to know.

At the same time... these are things that make up who I am, as every day and natural (to me) as they are. Things that are fundamentally different for me from "normal" people about how I get through each day. And because what I'm (not) talking about is such a fundamental life issue, I feel that Sweetie needs to know about how my life is different from others' in this respect. If for no other reason than just so she knows... you know?

I know for sure that, for instance, all my aunts and uncles know of what I speak. And, therefore, I assume that all my cousins know as well. But I didn't tell them. Their parents must have. Or my parents? But when? And how? Under what circumstances? Or maybe some of them don't even know. Or many some of them researched/figured it out for themselves. I really can't be sure, since - again - this is not something that I tend to discuss with most people.

Googling anything like "how to talk to your child about..." this subject results in entry after entry of teaching the child with spina bifida how to manage this subject for themselves. And again I am angered and befuddled by how prevalent the topic of kids with spina bifida is on the internet as opposed to adults - let alone parents! - with spina bifida. It's seriously as if "they" think that kids with spina bifida never grow up to be adults with spina bifida. Hmmmpph. Well, if that's the case, no one ever gave me the memo!

Anyway... I am wondering more and more these days about how to broach this subject with Sweetie. It's nothing, I feel, that needs to be a serious come-here-and-sit-down-I-have-something-I-want-to-talk-to-you-about discussion. But to bring it up just randomly at the dinner table or something, and make light of it as best as possible, doesn't seem completely likely to happen and certainly not natural.

... Although that, in the end, will probably be how it happens, more or less. And since hubby, of course, knows of what I speak, and since he's the Silly Daddy, I presume his assistance with this not-really-a-discussion-discussion will be helpful in getting Sweetie to not make too much of a big deal out of it. Not worrying her, not having her spend more time than necessary thinking about this, and not having her look at me any differently is my hope. And I'm sure Hubby's involvement will only help this goal come to fruition.

Time will tell, I guess, how it all goes down.

Here's hoping it all doesn't go down the toilet, like so many things do...

It's (My) Most (Disliked) Time of the Year!!!

Happy Independence Day weekend, all my USA friends! It's beautiful here in New England - an absolutely lovely day for a barbeque (which we'll be going to at our friends' house this evening) and will be just as nice - if not a little hotter - tomorrow, for a family barbeque at my in-laws.

After our mid-day family get-together tomorrow, we're hoping to find a spot where we can park our car to watch some fireworks. Sweetie's never seen fireworks "live" before - only on TV. She's very excited to get a chance to this weekend. And we're happy to make it happen for her.... well, kinda.

If Sweetie wants fireworks, we'll find fireworks. But if it were totally up to me - uh uh. We'd be staying home, holed up in our house, far away from any firework displays. (Of course, we're in a new neighborhood this year - a more tightly compacted neighborhood with lots of kids and teenagers around. We heard some fireworks next door last night. Who knows how wild and crazy it gets around here on the actual 4th. Not sure I'm interested in finding out.)

See, I - like many people with spina bifida, it seems - have a sensitivity to loud noises. I always have. Thunderstorms? Hate 'em. The Fourth of July? A terrible holiday for me. I just do not like loud noises. Especially the sudden ones, like thunder and firecrackers. They scare me, and hurt my ears. According to what research that has been done on the subject, it seems those of us with shunts are more likely to not like loud noises. Not sure why, but very interesting to see that it's rather common among us.

And so, we will try to find a place to park our car tomorrow night - far enough away from the actual show to not bother me so much, but close enough/a good enough view for Sweetie to see a pretty display.

And, heck - if we have to, we'll have to... actually go to where a fireworks display is going to be. Just so Sweetie can get the best view possible and get the full effect.

Oh, what a mother won't do for her little girl... Just get the ear plugs ready, please.

No Kid Gloves Worn Here

So I started my new job 2 weeks ago. For those keeping score, this is my 2nd part time job - a.k.a., my afternoon job. I have another job that I work 4 mornings a week whereas this new job is 5 afternoons a week. It's basically what I was considering my "summer job" - a job to have/more income to have while I wait for my morning job to offer me more hours.

The thing is, now that I've been working it a couple weeks, I see how much I actually like it there. And I also have a glimpse into more duties they want me to take on in the nearish future - basically doing writing/advertising for them. Cool! Definitely a job to love for as long as I can keep it!

Funny/ironic thing, though, is that this business is a company that makes anti-chafing powders for runners/hikers/etc. You know - pretty much the heavy-duty, killer pro runners out there are our major customers. And here I am, a physically disabled woman who needs help from leg braces and a walking stick to get around, working for them and potentially writing for them. Go figure.

Part of my job there is to package and ship orders. Many of which are pretty small orders to individuals. Not huge packages, not too heavy or difficult for me to manage at all. But other orders, for distributors, stores, etc., are very large and heavy.

Now, I'm absolutely not saying that I can't handle it. As I said in my interview, I can definitely manage what they need done - I just may have to go about it in a different way to accommodate my needs. But, basically, no problem. And, in actuality, that has been the case. I can do whatever they need me to do - I just may be a bit slower or accomplish the task in a different way then someone more physically able would. And it's all just fine.

But what has kind of taken me aback - just because I'm not used to it - is how my boss and co-workers treat me. And how do they treat me? Just like anyone else.

Shocking! Isn't it?!

As I've said here before on more than one occasion, I'm kind of used to being taken care of. I'm used to people offering to do things for me - not because I can't do whatever, but because they know they can do it quicker/easier/or they're just nicely offering to do something so I don't have to do it. Which, you know, is all fine and good. And, in fact, I probably more often than not take people up on their offers of assistance because - yeah - it would be a lot easier of someone else just did whatever.

But at my new job - nope. I have my jobs to do and people expect me to do them.

Hmmmm.... this is not coming out they way I mean for it. I don't mean to be saying that, "Man! I can't believe what these people are making me do! They're so cold and uncaring and just telling me to 'do this now and do it right, or else!'" That's not it at all. I work with some really great people and I am treated so well there. How I mean this to sound is - "Wow. These people aren't questioning my abilities at all. I said I can do X and they know I'll get X done, however it is I need to do it. They're not concerned that they've asked too much of me. They're not offering their help because A) it's my job, not theirs, to get X done, and B) that's just it - I'll get it done one way or another. The end."

They also probably realize that if I do need help, I'd certainly ask for it myself. And I would - and have, actually! At which point they are more than happy to assist. But they don't offer it on their own.

Wow! How refreshing!

An example: Yesterday my boss and I (BTW - my boss is about 7 months pregnant with twins, so she's obviously not in all that better condition to do physical tasks than I am) were packing up many orders, a few of which were quite large. But instead of her telling me to take care of the little orders while she handles the larger/heavier/crazier orders, she had me do the big stuff. Since she already knew I knew my way around the smaller orders, she wanted to give me practice on the larger, not-as-typical orders. Which, of course, all made a lot of good sense and I was happy to work this way. But I have to say, I'm just more used to someone offering to do the bigger/heavier stuff for me while I take care of the lighter things.

I had to gather heavy things, box them all in a large box, cut the box down to size, and tape up the box. Which I did. Yeah, it wasn't the easiest thing in the world to do. And I probably didn't do it in the easiest way that I could have - or someone else would have done it. But I got it done on my own. Correctly. And now I know what it takes to handle a larger order. Cool!

It also kinda surprised me at one or two points during this time yesterday that when I kind of stumbled or fell back on my butt - (note: no Amy was harmed in the packing of these items. I am just clumsy. No problem) - that my boss didn't make any remark whatsoever to me. Didn't ask me if I was okay. Didn't say boo. Which, you know what, was totally FINE, and actually COOL! Like I said, she knows my physical limitations and must realize I'm gonna trip up or whatever along the way and there's no need to comment on it. Like I said - if I need help, she knows I'll ask for it. If I fall and actually do hurt myself, I'll let someone know. Obviously. Otherwise? It's s'all good.

Anyway - someone reading this may think that I'm writing this all as a complaint about the cold, heartless, expect-way-too-much people I now work for. But actually, it's honestly like a breath of fresh air.

No one's treating me with kid gloves in my new job. I'm thinking, likewise, that maybe - just maybe - I'll start to look at myself with a fresh set of eyes and will feel more like a can-do adult as well!

This "summer job" just might be one of the best things I'll ever do for myself!