I think I am about to join the ranks of mothers who home school their children. 

I am just at a complete loss what to do with Joey and the inattention he is receiving at Grapeview. Joey had some developmental delays present at birth and had been receiving support services since the time he was two. He attended a wonderful special needs preschool for about a year and then we moved to Grapeview. He attended Grapeveiw preschool for two years, receiving help in speech and language only one day a week and then moved on to Kindergarten for two years, where he continued to receive services in speech and language. Then at the end of second grade, the school exited him out of special education. I called foul and wondered how a child could be 'magically cured?' My complaints were ignored. Joey's pediatrician also could not believe what the school had done and referred us to Glenn Tripp, a world-renowned autism specialist. Joey was diagnosed with aspersers. I took the report to the school, but the school principal questioned the findings. Her words to me, "Joey, really?" However, it was enough to get him retested. The beginning of last year, Ed and I attended a meeting at the school with the school psychologist  and special education teacher and his fourth grade teacher and they said he did not qualify for support services, other then the STARS reading program. What could I do? 

Fast forward to this year, he is now in the fifth grade, and only reading at the third grade level. The track he is on already at the beginning of the school year makes me think he’s going to be repeating fifth grade. He is NOT ready for middle school. He is the class clown and his teacher has placed him in an isolation desk away from the other students with partitions to keep him focused and away from extra stimuli. Why, I want to know? If he's not a special needs child, why are you treating him different? His pediatrician was floored and told me to sue the school or to get him out of there. 

This week he attended outdoor school, a three day environmental curriculum taught at a YMCA camp; however, one day into the camp, I received a phone call from the principal stating Joey was not listening and being disruptive and was 'making the school look bad.’ I swear those were her exact words and she wanted to know what I was going to do about it. Long story short, I agreed to pick him up at the camp. Talking to him on the drive home, he told me another child punched him and when Joey tried to retaliate, he was the one who got in trouble, and a few hours later, he tapped someone on the shoulder, and the boy told Joey to get off him. Then his teacher grabbed him and told him that was it—"you're going home." WTH? 

When we got to the camp, his teacher walked Joey to the office and told him he would see him on Monday. I don't think so, if you can't handle him, I will find someone else who can, even if that means me home schooling him. Lord, give me strength!!!!

On the website Livejournal, a social media site for journaling, blogging, fandom, and other interests, there is a daily segment for helping writers with writers block. A few weeks ago, the question was asked: Would you give up the Internet for the rest of your life for $10 million?

The simple answer is no.

Sure, I was tempted for a few minutes. It would certainly be nice to be out of debt and finally free from the bondage of student loans. I would love to travel, buy a new car, and have money to pay for my children’s college education.

However. . .

Even through I lived the majority of my life pre-cell phone and pre-Internet, I have come to rely heavily on both. It would cut me off from some of my favorite things, people, friends, family. I’m the most social, anti-social person I know. Actually, I hate to talk on the phone, so the majority of my correspondence is done via email and texting. I would miss my friends on Facebook, I would miss photo sharing, and I would miss reading fan fiction. I use the Internet for almost everything; family history research, blogging, banking, paying bills, setting appointments, shopping, weather reports, breaking news, travel arrangements, researching products, and more. In addition, as a writer I can’t image researching for a story without access to the Internet. I would be incredibly lost without Wikipedia.

Therefore, no, I could not give up the Internet—even for $10 million dollars. 

How amazing it is that children who share the same genes are as different as night and day? My oldest and youngest sons both fall on the autism spectrum but couldn't be more different. 

“Crap!” Were the only words that came out of my mouth as I slammed on the brakes and braced for impact. Everything was in slow motion, yet I found myself amazingly calm. Twenty-odd years since I had been involved in an accident and that was about to change in a fraction of a second. I felt the impact and watched in almost comical awe as a doe went flying through the air, almost like one of Santa’s reindeer. Not saying hitting a deer or killing one of God’s creatures was funny; however, even the two younger boys I had with me sitting in the backseat could not help but comment on the aerodynamics of the deer. "Do it again," I heard a small voice from the backseat. 

I stopped the truck and accessed the contents of my cargo. Neither me, nor the boys, were any worse for the wear, so I drove forward making sure the truck was still drivable. Everything appeared functional, therefore I continued to drive home, and under the outdoor porch lights, I could better access the damage to my poor baby.

I had called my husband and he stood under the porch waiting for me to pull up into the driveway, then he came down the stairs, and looked at the front end of the truck.  He shook his head. Yep, I had hurt her. I had hurt her bad. I cussed for a few moments, more because I didn’t think we had the money to fix her. Yes, we had insurance, but I didn’t think we had the deductible, not with the huge vet bill we had paid only a few weeks prior.

However, accessing the damage I realized how lucky we all were. First, no one was injured.  I know people have been seriously hurt or killed in accidents involving deer. Miraculously, the deer flew to the side of the road and not up and over and into the windshield. Second, I am grateful I was driving the pickup and not some small sedan, which without a doubt would have resulted in much more damage to the vehicle and possibly the occupants. Third, I am grateful my teenage son was not driving. An accident like this could have set us back months in his confidence as a driver. (No, he still does not have his license, although he is getting better and after a few more hours of night driving and maybe some more time on the freeways, he should be ready for his exam). Finally, I am grateful after talking to the insurance company run-ins with deer is considered a comprehensive claim and not collision, so a much less out of pocket expense. Whew! 

The first three people to comment on this post get to request that I write a drabble or very short story of any pairing/character of their choice of fandom (that I know).

I will also need a prompt. Could be a sentence I need to include in the story, five words, a situation or season. . .

. . . and go. 

It was beautiful late summer morning on September 11, 2001. I had just woken up and had turned on the television set, which was usually on in the background while getting my oldest son, Michael, ready for school. He was 7 years old and in the 2nd grade at this time. I remember the breaking news headline and images of the first World Trade Center tower burning. Heavy smoke filled the New York skyline. Then in utter disbelief, as I witnessed the second airplane hitting the other twin tower. I will never forgot those images; the billowing gray-white smoke, people leaping to the deaths, rescue personal risking their lives to save people trapped in the buildings, then the south tower collapses in a sea of dust and debris, and a few moments later the north tower falls. The images forever etched in my memory.

I was glued to the television set. I couldn’t stop watching and crying. I was not angry. I was stunned, I was scared, I felt vulnerable, and could not believe this was happening to my country. I remember the images of the damage to the Pentagon and Flight 93 crashed in a Pennsylvania field. I was worried about reports of missing planes (which were all accounted for later). I finished getting Michael and myself ready and took him, and Shinsuke, a Japanese exchange student who had been staying with us, to their prospective schools. I listened to the new reports on the radio and hoped this was another Orson Wells prank, but deep in my heart, I know it wasn’t.

I can still remember how eerie the skies sounded when the FAA shut down all air traffic, yet I also remember the pride that erupted, and the determination not to let this enemy beat us. I was proud to be an American.

Back in the summer of 1985, I visited New York City and stood on the observation deck on the World Trade Center Tower Two. How small I felt and how big the world seemed. It both terrified and amazed me.

In May of this year, I pumped my fist in the air after I learned the United States had captured and killed the mastermind behind the terrorist attacks, Osama bin Laden.  Only just a few weeks before, Ed and I had visited Washington, D.C. and quietly reflected on the events of 9-11 while we somberly walked through the Pentagon 9-11 Memorial.

May he rot in Hell and may we never forget. 

A fandom is a community that surrounds a particular television show, movie, book, or other medium. Fanfiction writers, artists, poets can all be members, but one does not necessarily need to write to belong to a fandom, sometimes we are just fans. Fandoms often consist of message boards, i.e. livejournal communities or people who share the same interest. Here is a list of my favorite fandoms, although I admit the ones I usually write for are Scarecrow and Mrs. King and Chuck, but someday I hope to branch out.