Tip for Putting on Mascara

Do NOT separate mascara clumps with a sewing needle.

I have been doing this for as long as I can remember and never had a problem... until this morning. Two or three of my eyelashes were clumping together, so I pulled out my needle to separate them and accidently poked myself in the eye.

This is what I looked like after the doctor dropped orange dye into my eye...

You can see in the picture that the skin under my eye is stained and my make-up is trashed.

Here's the good news:

1) I found out that eyes heal quickly, so the pain should go away after a couple of days.

2) The eye doctor gave me some sample anti-biotic and lubricating eye drops, therefore I'm saving money by not having to buy prescriptions.

3) Dr. Croft made me feel a little bit better by informing me that he sees women in his office about once a week for the very same thing.

Seriously? Just Help the Kid Open the Damn Door!

I have wanted to share the following story for a long time, but when I think about it I tend to get angry all over again. Today, instead of pushing it to the back of my mind once more, I have decided it's time to share. After all, April is autism awareness month. After reading this post, I believe that those of you with children on the spectrum will understand why reliving this has been hard for me, and those of you who know little about autism will hopefully gain some valuable insight.


I worked as a middle school para-professional in the special education department from 1996 until the year 2000. I really enjoyed my job. Our department had a great team (the best in the school district and I'm not just tooting my own horn) and inclusion was of the utmost importance to us. Our students thrived to the point that we almost hated to send them on to high school for fear that everything we had helped them achieve would be thrown by the wayside.


The respect I felt for Mrs. M, the special education teacher that I worked with, changed however the day that I walked into the classroom and found her and Conner, one of our non-verbal autistic students, in the room. 

Conner was completely stressed out. His lunch tray was on the teachers desk, untouched and Mrs. M informed me that she wasn't allowing him to eat his lunch until he opened the bathroom door by himself. She told me she knew he could do it. She'd seen him open the door on his own before, therefore, she refused to give in and open it for him.

Conner was told he could eat his lunch after he opened the bathroom door by himself. This, alone, made me very upset, but when I looked down and saw that Conner's Pull-Up was so wet that it had ripped and fallen to the floor, I came unglued! The following thoughts raced around in my mind: Wasn't it enough that Conner realized he needed to go to the bathroom and went to the door? Was it really that big of a deal if he didn't turn the damn knob all the way? He was reaching out for help. So what? I didn't believe for one minute that Conner was refusing to turn the door knob just to be spiteful. Somewhere, inside his brain, he had a valid reason; we just didn't know what it was! In my eyes, his behavior certainly was not such to withhold his lunch from him.


In the sake of my rising blood pressure, I will skip a few details and let you know that I ended up in the principal's office with Mrs. M.  She justified her actions by saying that she had discussed the situation with Conner's foster mother and "It wasn't like he couldn't go to the bathroom. He was wearing a Pull-Up." The principal listened graciously and told me he understood why I was upset, but he also had total and complete faith in Mrs. M. (Of course he did! Even if he didn't, he wouldn't admit it in front of me. That's what "good" principals do; they back up their faculty.) Mrs. M and I ended up agreeing to disagree, and I quit at the end of the school year.


Mrs. M retired a couple of years later. I often wonder if she ever looks back and regrets the way she handled that situation. More importantly, I wonder how many children/adults with autism we, as a society, unintentionally hurt because we just don't understand what is going on in their heads.

As for me, I still work for the school district, just not in the special education department. I have the best of both worlds. Each weekday I get to work with sweet little Kindergarten children for a few hours, then come home and be the best mom ever to my autistic son Cody. Now I'm tooting my own horn!

Less THAN Perfect

I do not claim to know everything about the English language. With all the rules of proper grammar, it is easy to get confused. I also realize that everyone, including me, makes mistakes. With that said, I will share with you something I have become increasingly aware of and that's the misuse of the words than and then. I have seen the two words confused on blogs, YouTube, song lyrics and even my post yesterday by Erma Bombeck. In one of her paragraphs, Erma says, "There is a woman I will bless with a child less then perfect." I didn't change then to than, because I was quoting Erma, but I saw the error right away. I also saw the irony in her less than perfect sentence. Then I began thinking, if Erma Bombeck is capable of confusing the words then and than, do I really know how to use them properly? I decided to search Google and found a few websites that have worksheets and quizzes. I've included one of the links, if you would like to test your knowledge of the then and than rule.

Then Vs Than Worksheets Worksheets

In Erma's defense, because it's an uplifting piece of writing and has been reposted many times over the years, the mistake most likely was made by somebody other than her.

Poison Control

Having to call Poison Control is one of those things that every parent anticipates. We keep medications and chemicals out of reach or locked up, the Poison Control number near the phone (or these days, programmed into the phone) and hope we will never have to use this service.

I made it twenty-five years before I had to call. The circumstances involving the incidence were very unusual and unpredicted.

That particular evening, I had been "down and out" with a sinus infection. I was laying on the sofa with Cody sitting beside me and realized that it was time for his evening dose of Phenobarbital. Feeling too sick to get up, I asked my son Casey to please give Cody his pills (at that time he was taking three pills per dose).

Casey brought Cody his medicine with a glass of water. Cody obediently took the tablets, swallowed them and then said, "Wrong ones."

I felt feverish and pretty much like crap, but not bad enough to not catch what Cody said. I asked Casey to please read the prescription bottle to me. It said Quinipril. Casey had made a mistake and given Cody my blood pressure medication; not just one pill but three! (The tablets looked so much alike that I eventually asked to have my prescription changed.)

Long story short, Poison Control came through for us. We had to take Cody to the hospital to drink activated charcoal and Casey felt extremely horrible for making a mistake that put his brother through a nasty ordeal.

We all wish Cody would've said, "Wrong ones" before he swallowed. In any case, at least he said something and we were able to take care of the situation.

What did I learn from this experience?

1) Keep the Poison Control number close by.

2) You may have to use Poison Control even when your kids are grown.

3) Always, always, always check the prescription label before you take medication and...

4) Moms just can't afford to be sick!