tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89404704833570831282012-01-31T19:44:42.111-05:00Cheeseless Pizza and Other Philosophies of LifeAn Irreverent Woman Looks for Laughs and MeaningJ. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.comBlogger671100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-34302464826120199102012-01-28T15:23:00.000-05:002012-01-28T19:46:50.350-05:00A Brother's Perspective
As I was writing a piece about a memorable experience, A Moment in the Sun,
unbeknownst to me my youngest son, age 14, was also writing a piece
about the same moment for a school writing project. Imagine my surprise.
Our perspectives take in the view in different ways. From the simple
description of the day--my son remembers a cold chill, I remember a warm
breeze--to how my son describes J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-17519685657054340852012-01-05T08:56:00.002-05:002012-01-20T17:17:38.120-05:00A Moment in the Sun
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J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-41518496194347148732011-11-29T07:49:00.001-05:002011-12-15T18:36:32.192-05:00The Power of a Dream
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font-family:"J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-19557128072426835502011-08-05T12:33:00.045-04:002011-09-17T12:36:03.196-04:00Passion and Purpose
I recall the feeling of pure pleasure when passion
and purpose stirred one November eve, beckoning for renewal.
A London stage. An audience of enthralled
admirers--my husband and I, two suburbanites an ocean away from three children
and home--surreally among them, adding the clap of our own hands to the rhythm
of what felt rapturous to me.
Tears ran down my face--the kind that J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-75546951116772354562011-06-12T13:52:00.012-04:002011-08-28T09:58:42.551-04:00Sink or Swim
I
never knew my grandmother on my father’s side; she passed away before I was
born.
However,
I heard the story of her choices.
In
the 1920’s she boarded a ship to America and did something unthinkable at the
time for a woman; she not only left the safety of home and family, but she
embarked to a new land and enrolled in college.
Upon
matriculation she returned to her native land J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-89898085474359652182011-05-03T07:37:00.007-04:002011-08-28T09:32:59.014-04:00The Wonderland of Life
Overly exaggerated thick, arched jet-black eyebrows rose up
in exasperation.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way!” she bellowed
with the tenderness of Nurse Ratchett with an extra ax to grind.
My son with autism, around nine or ten at the time,
preferred an alternate choice: a
mad dash out the door.
A natural flush enhanced her already rosy cheeks. Her ruby red lips J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-34867374276524510072011-04-10T11:36:00.023-04:002011-08-28T09:32:59.015-04:00The Buzz of Life: Housewife vs. Burly Lawn Man!
It was a typical day in the office of my life.
My teen son on the autistic spectrum was panicking in the
car, and I was about to take on a man who was wielding a chainsaw and huddling by a
wood chipper!
It was hiking day at my son’s school, and we were at the
same park that I once comically entered its gates driving a red convertible with a guy wearing a cow costume sitting next to me. J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-90779036851770714852011-03-27T10:34:00.025-04:002011-08-28T09:32:59.015-04:00Struggling & Soaring
I was in a fight with my husband. Say it isn't so!
Although the details of our dispute (if I could even recall
them) would no doubt be more riveting than Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton wrestling around in the Taming of the Shrew (we are that utterly
interesting, important, and gorgeous, right?), I will succinctly summarize as
follows:
I was right, and he was wrong! (Aint it grand to J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-83036727562993709052011-03-06T17:59:00.011-05:002011-09-21T08:28:16.172-04:00Mr. Microphone & the Happiness Factory
Mr. Microphone looks up at me and bellows out like a Bob
Barker wanna-be: “Don’t be shy
now! Come on down!”
Horrifyingly I’m standing alone on an elevated platform. I’m sadly not on my way to bidding on
the RV camper dream vacation on the Price is Right or better yet ensconced in my
childhood fantasy of donning go-go boots, bobbed straight hair, a flowered
disco dress, and body paint as J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-53859502905226861002011-03-01T12:54:00.028-05:002011-09-23T19:50:30.782-04:00The Flow of Life
Although my oldest son is growing
in countless ways in his abilities to navigate life without falling into the
catastrophic states that once held greater sway, I am reminded of a time this year
when he could not venture on a school hike. Just moments before our
arrival he had expressed real excitement, but as we exited the car he inexplicably
changed his mind and could only make it a few steps.J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-14398071085937653402011-02-20T16:45:00.017-05:002011-08-28T09:44:37.670-04:00A Charming Ode to a Comical Commode
I've traveled places in life. Some high. Some low. And some that defy proper
boundaries leaving you all flushed and aghast.
Say it, say it…ahem…life has led me to some really crappy
crappers, i.e. toilets of a most base and embarrassing nature, shunned and
mocked by the Tidy Bowl man for countless years, not to mention some that come
with annoying commentators.
I guess my low expectations J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-15068437942267000112011-02-01T18:24:00.002-05:002011-08-28T09:32:59.017-04:00Are You Happy?
This experience took
place when my son on the autistic spectrum was approaching ten years of age
(he’s now 16). Our public school had suspended him. A private school later dismissed him, the implication
being that he must stop saying and doing as he did. A period of home schooling began, but even in this cocooning
setting, he still struggled with a host of phobias and obsessions that often
J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-84104001707979952562011-01-23T09:08:00.006-05:002011-08-28T09:44:37.671-04:00Buddy the Love Muffin
I
was standing in my brother’s home. He
had one Shitzu puppy left in the litter.
Mind you this was supposedly a
litter of AKC royalty. The fact that the official lineage had the name ‘Tater Tot’
in it did make my husband cynically lament “royalty, my ass!"
I
gazed upon the fur ball with beckoning eyes. “No I don’t want that adorable puppy; absolutely
not!”
I
rationalized J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-47058758578720249562011-01-16T18:44:00.018-05:002011-08-28T09:44:37.671-04:00A Southern Style SnowstormSoutherners.
I am one.
I was teethed on fried chicken and the sand dollars
of my southern coastal town.
I currently live in the vicinity of Rhett and
Scarlett’s ol’ stompin’ grounds, but when it comes to navigating winter storms,
I consider myself a die-hard Yankee, although they might be embarrassed to claim
me.
I only spent a few years living north of the
Mason-Dixon line, and evenJ. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-11322404594371803742011-01-04T11:06:00.009-05:002011-08-28T09:32:59.017-04:00He is Okay!
When I was pregnant with my first son, they did not hear his
heart beat at the doctor’s office visit as expected. With
tears of concern rolling down my face, I drove myself to the hospital for an
ultrasound.
Let my baby be okay.
While the pregnancy that followed after him did not result
in the same joyful outcome, on this day, for this child, I saw four little
chambers light up a J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-41566782972639002712010-12-18T10:51:00.011-05:002011-08-28T09:59:26.923-04:00Lovely
As I walked into a special school that serves a mix of local
children, refugees and immigrants, I was carrying a bag of oranges and apples
in one hand with a few other small gifts in the other. Although I adore all of the children I work
with in the tutoring program, there was one boy I was especially excited to see
on this day.
When we first met a few months ago, we spent some time
sharingJ. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-27178612218932943882010-12-02T12:18:00.013-05:002011-09-23T19:46:50.705-04:00Coochie Coochie Coo & a Turkey
For unconventional,
imperfect, quirky yet lovable families everywhere…
“Pinch his culo!” (gringo translation: touché/bum/bottom…take
your pick).
These words emerged from my very Latin, no holds barred,
mother-in-law. She continued in heavy
Spanish accent, “Jou need to be sexy for jour husband! Don’t let problems get in da way of passion! Do jou still have that purple negligee I J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-4481478723940561422010-11-18T18:00:00.008-05:002011-08-28T09:42:59.660-04:00Togas & Tea Bags
My friends and I were curiously seated in an auditorium
looking up at a woman announcing “His Holiness” or more accurately “Heez-Oh-Lee-Nez.” She nearly shuttered on the stage in ecstasy
by the mere mention of the “spiritual guru’s” name.
So how did I of all people find myself at such an event when
my prior rowdiest religious shake-up had been back in my teen years when I dissed
theJ. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-40817416452850399012010-11-04T18:16:00.009-04:002011-08-28T09:59:26.924-04:00A 44-Year-Old European Travel Virgin: Part 3 - The Eiffel Tower, aka The Iron Lady
Part 3 of 3 in an Award Winning Series of Adorable
Madness (Part 1 & 2 provide context, so I don’t recommend skipping!)
Walking towards the Eiffel Tower in the coolness of a
November eve, I imagined a sense of awe and wonder would hit me, but the
realities of life, as they often do, abruptly halted the fantasy.
We were accosted by a bevy of peddlers hawking little metal
Eiffel towers J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-11481833496238509792010-10-28T11:17:00.007-04:002011-08-28T09:59:26.925-04:00A 44-Year-Old European Travel Virgin: Part 2 - The Eiffel Tower of the South
Part 2 of 3 in an Award Winning Series of Adorable
Madness
Since I was about to embark on a trip to a land of unparalleled history, what could
be more riveting than to give you a taste of my own.
The most exciting trip of my childhood was to South of
the Border. You might be picturing a luxurious,
tiled-roof hacienda with open-air patios, lavish gardens, and a view of the
mountains J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-57011946377330925002010-10-21T13:10:00.017-04:002011-08-28T09:59:26.925-04:00A 44-Year-Old European Travel Virgin: Part 1-Marital Angst
Part 1 of 3 in an Award
Winning Series of Adorable Madness
“It’s my first time!”
I was beaming, giddy, like a school-aged girl taking her
first big trip away. Jelly rolls (15
extra Pillsbury Dough Girl pounds of them put on this year to be exact)
tastefully spilling over middle-aged mama, let-me-feign-trendiness, low rider jeans,
offset by wrinkles and assorted aches (the
rheumatologist/J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-63143027791067802142010-09-23T17:52:00.006-04:002011-08-28T10:01:11.100-04:00I'm Here
Also included online at NPR: This I Believe.
I believe that one of the purest ways to find meaning in
life is to support people through their pain.
My autistic son was flying into frequent rages. A new medicine meant to calm anxiety had gone
tragically awry. A windowless basement
room, buffered with cushions and calming, therapeutic swings, became our
fortress of safety.J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-42138875651562879812010-09-03T13:42:00.017-04:002011-08-30T00:07:26.820-04:00A Pretend Tea Party
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mso-font-pitch:variableJ. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-12754763163791906892010-08-21T08:50:00.006-04:002011-08-28T10:01:11.101-04:00Rocking Goliath
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mso-font-pitch:variableJ. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-3832330027035373232010-07-30T18:52:00.021-04:002012-01-20T07:32:02.507-05:00Breathless
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J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-29303727614252332762010-07-24T08:11:00.007-04:002011-08-28T15:37:11.673-04:00The Breakfast Club of Maine
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mso-font-pitch:variableJ. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-44429162036755860942010-07-15T08:07:00.004-04:002012-01-20T07:34:55.704-05:00The Miracle by the Lobster Tank
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J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-23778846752907599012010-06-26T19:55:00.002-04:002011-08-28T09:40:39.952-04:00A Tawdry Travel Tale
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J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-39238114012333029952010-05-14T12:10:00.003-04:002011-08-28T09:40:39.953-04:00Thank You Officer Friendly!
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J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-40592596164265917722010-04-14T12:56:00.008-04:002011-08-28T09:34:18.840-04:00Monologue in the DarkA stranger is calling my name grappling, poorly I might add, to make jokes in the midst of pitch blackness. His walking stick occasionally bats my ankles or his hand finds its way to my back; intimacy I have not asked for, but must accept due to today’s circumstances. He seems to diffuse his own discomfort with constant bantering which I find distracting; he jokes “they don’t call me smart AlexJ. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-63349006733008769322010-03-26T16:45:00.004-04:002011-08-28T09:34:18.841-04:00Crooning by the Cow Patties-The Visual AidJ. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-52717946279263455382010-03-26T16:04:00.001-04:002011-08-28T09:34:18.841-04:00Crooning by the Cow PattiesIt was a day like any other day in the world of autism…I was talking to a cow…yes, I said "cow."On the verge of tears, I shared: "Well, you see my son can go from happy to panic in two seconds flat." I had experience with this reaction, but it usually involved my husband and the words "not tonight dear." The cow mooed: "Oh, I understand." Had there been a lunar eclipse timed with a unicornJ. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-40307510556772948902010-03-19T19:26:00.001-04:002011-08-28T09:54:18.619-04:00The Annals of My Husband’s Fainting Spells-Episode 7: Dr. Snip-it Meets “The Boys” -- The VasectomyFor historical reference and true story savoring, the author recommends reading the other essays in this heartwarming series. Click on the label--Comedy: Marriage--and peruse The Annals of My Husband's Fainting Spells: Episodes 1-6….. We were on our way to see the cherished (my view)/dreaded (husband's view) Dr. Snip-it. I believe his real name was something a bit more professional sounding, J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-59039134370621396442010-03-12T17:28:00.001-05:002011-08-28T09:54:18.620-04:00The Annals of My Husband’s Fainting Spells: Going International-Episodes 5 and 6Episode 5: Latin Style and Down UnderMy husband, puppy-dog-eyed, implored: "I would like to hike one of the greatest natural wonders of the world, the famous Inca ruins of Machu Picchu."My darling husband had been making weekly business trips to South America, slaving away in an attempt to convince as many people as possible to chug more beer. It was a high and noble business calling, one he J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-87896997460073441532010-03-05T20:05:00.001-05:002012-01-28T22:00:28.816-05:00Tales from the Suburban Hood: The Middle School CafeteriaImportant Author Note: My youngest son denies that most of the below events took place and/or debates my recall of what actually was said. For instance, I recall my son saying: "Mother dear, I was feeling terribly frustrated with the immature simpletons sitting next to me in the cloistered halls of 7th grade, and so I expounded my deepest angst and most heartrending emotions to them in order J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-1462104500089811072010-03-03T14:48:00.001-05:002011-08-28T09:34:18.842-04:00BuoyancyStanding at a community pool with my friend, I gazed at our sons--mine is 15 and hers is 18. My son enjoys swimming, but we were at a new location, and such change is often met with resistance. However on this day the autism Gods threw me a life preserver as my son easily agreed.Our boys have childlike thoughts at times, but bodies that look like men; it's a combination that adds an extra layerJ. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-71333621394810793012010-02-21T08:39:00.001-05:002011-08-28T09:34:18.843-04:00What is Autism? How does one explain autism to an outsider? Over the fifteen years I've raised my son on the autistic spectrum--whatever that label means as every child on the spectrum is as unique and individual as his fingerprint--I've struggled to articulate words that could adequately convey clarity and understanding. Maybe it is hard to impart what you are still seeking for yourself. Is Autism Holland? J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-43071639886551304322010-02-18T21:17:00.001-05:002011-08-28T09:49:03.625-04:00Things One Never Expected to See in a Coffee Shop: The Earth Shattering Conclusion!Note: My autistic son attends an amazing school that is far from my house. To pass the time after I drop him off, I often spend numerous hours in various coffee shops. I thought it would be fun to share a few of the highlights of my java imbibing and banana muffin stuffing hours… Lingerie Mike…again….(refer to part one of this series for his riveting "bio")Sadly he was a repeat customer J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-5700891030616174792010-02-12T18:48:00.001-05:002011-08-28T09:49:03.626-04:00Things One Never Expected to See in a Coffee Shop: Part 2 of a 3-Part Compelling SeriesNote: My autistic son attends an amazing school that is far from my house. To pass the time after I drop him off, I often spend numerous hours in various coffee shops. I thought it would be fun to share a few of the highlights of my java imbibing and banana muffin stuffing hours… A Big Wheel A couple barreled in with two clamoring kids, bringing us all into the role of trapped J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-59252941908393747922010-02-07T09:55:00.001-05:002011-08-28T09:49:03.626-04:00Things One Never Expected to See in a Coffee Shop-Part 1 of a Compelling 3-Part SeriesNote: My autistic son attends an amazing school that is far from my house. To pass the time after I drop him off, I often spend numerous hours in various coffee shops. I thought it would be fun to share a few of the highlights of my java imbibing and banana muffin stuffing hours… Cinderella* One day I wondered if delusion had finally set in. Cinderella walked in through the door, not J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-35858430658059478692010-01-29T15:14:00.001-05:002011-08-28T09:53:31.609-04:00Here Kitty KittyWhen I first relocated decades ago from Florida to the Midwest, I was a Southern gal who thought a blizzard was a tasty treat from Dairy Queen. With sand still between my toes, I bumbled along. Did you know poinsettias don't do so well outside in a freeze? Shockingly you cannot dig your way out of two feet of snow with a kiddy shovel. Pouring boiling water on frost covered car windows? Not J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-27725953379227262142010-01-24T20:10:00.001-05:002011-08-28T09:53:31.609-04:00My Husband the Golden PlumberWhen I first met my husband back in college, the evidence of his uncanny, fix-it cheaply mentality was in plain sight. He tooled around in an older, sporty 240Z which made quite the visual statement what with its painted splotches, haphazardly applied to combat the threat of rust. As I eyed the gray spots that stood in stark contrast to the bright red palette of the car, I quizzed my sweetie. J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-18835202860089111162010-01-07T12:34:00.003-05:002011-08-28T09:53:31.610-04:00An Ode to Marital Bliss
Note to reader: The opinions in this piece are going to knock you silly with wisdom and insight, and may indeed bring life altering changes to your own marriage. These epiphanies came to the author after a daring mix of Calgon and Chardonnay where she sought to be taken away for a bubbly bath retreat after a long spell of heartwarming bonding with her spouse over the holiday break. Please J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-27689191429675043892009-11-11T13:07:00.001-05:002011-08-28T09:34:18.843-04:0024 Hours and Counting: Adventures in Lunacy Land 5:02 p.m. I am idealistically driving with the convertible top down as radio tunes ease my mind into carefree meanderings; a refreshing breeze tousles my curly lady locks. I am imbued with a sense of awe as I savor the beauty of bold autumnal colors and crisp coolness alerting the senses. How did the universe repay my adoration of its magnificence? It plunked me in the head with a mutant, J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-19103540060347903662009-10-30T17:27:00.006-04:002011-08-28T09:59:57.541-04:00Parting Ways from the Mainstream: How One Mother Found Joy and MeaningA version of this essay was also featured at http://www.autismspeaks.org/community/ownwords/intheirownwords_martin.
My middle child-- who has autism-- at some point began to pull the cheese off his pizza. For a long time, we kept ordering it the way everyone in the history of mankind eats pizza--with cheese. There must be a rule written down somewhere, right? Eventually, he expanded his J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-81238380144166320482009-10-24T12:26:00.001-04:002011-08-28T09:53:31.611-04:00A Real Housewife of a Legendary SteakhouseThe components for a good evening were in place. While my teen daughter was at home in charge of her two younger brothers, I found myself situated in a cozy booth, surrounded by ambient lighting, dark wood paneling, and a warmly lit fireplace. I peered across the table at my dashing spouse whose romantic aura and mystique had gone up ten-fold after a few sips of a well-mixed Cosmo at a suburban J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-14166690963380189162009-10-09T20:52:00.024-04:002011-08-28T09:42:31.551-04:00What Do You Do?
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mso-font-pitch:variableJ. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-52381883733235306552009-10-02T12:15:00.007-04:002011-09-24T14:02:19.454-04:00The Annals of My Husband’s Fainting Spells: Episode 4 – The Creek
One Saturday afternoon, begging for a break from the challenges of keeping three kids happy, my gallant hubby makes plans to take our two sons out for some bonding time hiking in a heavily wooded area bordering a creek. They did attempt to convince my daughter and me that we really should join them hiking up a cliff (okay, slight incline), followed by a picnic lunch of beef jerky and fruit J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-44476377170657827502009-09-28T12:13:00.006-04:002011-08-28T10:02:43.956-04:00Noah Are You Here?
I am in route to school with my autistic teen son and at its best the drive will be 45 minutes. However, due to flooding of Biblical proportions, I suspect today's drive will not be without its challenges. In fact we soon discover a main thoroughfare is closed due to high creek waters overtaking a bridge, diverting us to a new route. We sit in a standstill of traffic while my son anxiously J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-59669188285808718892009-09-22T21:23:00.008-04:002011-08-28T10:03:12.270-04:00A Gentile Found God at the Synagogue
A few years ago, we were at a church service; although as I say the word "we" it somehow doesn't ring true. My daughter was sitting next to me carrying a slight air of the typical disinterest of a teenager. My youngest son--eager to take in the sermon of the day as he was deemed mature enough to not need childcare--sat to my other side. The missing part of the "we" was my husband and J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-37709758336433802562009-09-16T20:07:00.005-04:002011-08-28T09:53:56.370-04:00The Annals of My Husband's Fainting Spells: Episodes 1-3
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margin:0inJ. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-14610960746749158712009-09-11T17:24:00.002-04:002011-08-28T09:41:44.944-04:00One Housewife's Profound Pearls of Wisdom1. If your child is prone to eating Doritos and throwing up, consider orange as a carpet color choice; who wants to haul out the carpet cleaner over and over again? You might want to also rethink the top bunk bed as a sleeping option.
2. Never touch your eyes (or any other unmentionable body parts) after you have sliced jalapenos.
3. Don’t expect a four-ft. fence to contain a dog that can J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-82160991460825479212009-08-26T11:25:00.003-04:002011-08-28T15:38:41.608-04:00Dr. D Meets "My Girls" - The Mammogram
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J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-29871015384930683182009-08-17T21:37:00.001-04:002011-08-28T09:34:45.756-04:00A Day at Six Flags - One Mom's Great American Shout-out
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<!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} a:link, span.MsoHyperlink {color:blue; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed {color:J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8940470483357083128.post-12995929192258993342009-04-11T15:06:00.001-04:002011-08-28T09:41:44.946-04:00The Twilight BelieversI suppose we all look for diversions from the humdrum of life, and alas the book series Twilight has arrived. Recently I found myself surrounded at book club by giddy housewives waxing poetic over the young and mysterious hero of the novel, Edward. I shunned the actual reading of the book as a teen vampire theme did not seem too terribly compelling to me. However, several Cosmos later, I began J. Lorraine Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15021651538310838675noreply@blogger.com0