Autism Answer: Fall In Love With Someone New #BrainBroadLoveHabits

I wrote this in February's edition of The Loop: 

I fall in love just a little, ol' little bit, every day with someone new." ~Hozier

Love and Habits

Love is lovely, friends!

 

I have a fun exercise for us in this episode of The Loop; homework, if you will. (The kind of homework I think schools would do well to consider!) Let's teach ourselves a delightful love habit by falling in love, daily! I encourage us to choose ourselves first. Today. Now! Fall in love with yourself! Let the way your hair falls tickle your tummy, see your quirks as adorable, hear your ideas and swoon.  Do this everyday with someone new. Your spouse, your child, the lady on the corner asking for money, the guy who sells you your lottery ticket. Fall in love! Giggle at their jokes, put extra energy into your banter, try to make the conversations last. Have a crush on humanity with us this February!

 

I invite you to share your experiences and new loves on Lynette's Brain Broad Facebook page: Lynette Louise aka The Brain Broad, tweet or email thoughts and pictures to mom4evermore@juno.com with the subject line/hashtag: #BrainBroadLoveHabits

 

Have fun falling in love!

I've been loving the responses! Check out posts to The Brain Broad's page to get a peek at some, click on the hashtag #BrainBroadLoveHabits on Twitter, and I invite you to participate as well!! You can post a picture, a story, a link to a story... whatever works for you! Or, just enjoy the posts of others and fall in love with them. That counts!!!

Here's one of mine: 

 

Me having a crush on myself.
I like the way I comfortably hang out in my pajamas and read great books, often, without feeling guilty about taking delicious down time. I think that's pretty cool and crush-worthy of me!
#BrainBroadLoveHabits

And another one: 

Yesterday I went to the post office with Shay and we discovered a yellow slip, indicating a package was waiting. Could it have finally arrived, we wondered. Shay gave me a hopeful smile and we headed to the counter.

Upon seeing me the kind folks who distribute all of our mail, our bills, loan approvals, pizza coupons, and online ordered packages, gave a knowing grin and disappeared into the back of the building, returning with a small brown cushioned envelope.

"Well, your music's here," said the lady happily handing me my Seven Mary Three CD.

As I clapped and jumped and excitedly thanked her, I saw the others standing back watching me get the music I ordered a week ago, smiling odd knowing grins my way. I'd been coming in everyday, hopeful with anticipation, describing the dance room my husband built for me and telling them how much freedom and joy I experienced in there, diminishing slightly only when I find myself needing new music. Which I had ordered and was waiting for.
I think they think I'm strange, but none of us mind that at all!!

I fell in love with my local post office yesterday.
And then I danced my ass off in my dance room!!! ‪#‎BrainBroadLoveHabits‬

And one more to show the diversity and simplicity of possibilities: 

I got a call last night from a telemarketer. I had no interest in his product but I took some time to have interest in him. We chatted for five minutes, long enough to explore ideas but not so long that he'd lose too much work time. We laughed a little, considered his future parenting prospects for a bit, and he suggested a title to the book he'd like me to write: A Canadian in Texas. I had a crush on humanity, and a telemarketer, last night! #BrainBroadLoveHabits 
____________________

These are some fun examples of the true moments "falling in love a little bit with someone new" has offered me. There are more examples from others (see Rachel Clark's consistent and lovely posts on The Brain Broad's Facebook page!!!!) and I invite you to live out and share some examples as well!!

For inspiration, here's Hozier singing the song that inspired this idea! 

Happy falling in love, friends!!
Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)
 

Autism Answer: A Story About Getting Dressed (aka Hippie Jeans)

I haven't really bought myself clothes since I was seventeen. Everything I've worn since then was given to me by friends, family, and neighbors who were cleaning out their closets. 

I love this! I'm recycling, re-purposing, and, well, not spending any money! But most of the people who always shared their used clothes with me have moved away and for the last few years I've been wearing what little clothes I still had from long ago. This is fine, I don't mind big holes in my jeans and threadbare see-through shirts. However, there are times when I get hired to work on advertising photo shoots and I need decent clothes to wear on set, so I made a fun New Year's resolution. "In 2016 I will buy myself one new article of clothing every other month."

So, last month I went to purchase myself a pair of pants and was met with an unforeseen issue. I had no idea what kind of pants I wanted! Everything I've been wearing for so long was from other people, people who had their own styles and fashion sense, and my style became wearing other people's clothes my way. I hadn't really taken time to know what I wanted to wear, only how to wear and like what people gave me.

Finally I settled on an affordable pair of jeans that I liked. I really liked them, actually. So I got excited and ran into my youngest son's room to tell him about my jean-buying adventure.

After laughing about me not knowing what I wanted to buy and then learning that I had  finally discovered a pair of pants that I liked, he asked simply: "Were they hippie jeans?"

I thought about it for a second. "Ya, I guess they are. They do look like hippie jeans."

"Well, I could have told you that. That's your style."

I think that's pretty fabulous!
Peace and love and all that delicious jazz!!

Sometimes we are who we are because we have to be. Sometimes our style is something we discover based on necessity. That doesn't make it not our style; indeed, my style is deeply authentically truly organically about happily working with what I'm easily offered. Yet, given the chance to know who I am when in the position to choose from everything, if everything is easily offered, I find myself sometimes heading in new directions. 

This is a lovely and important gift to give ourselves! Knowing what our style is when we are absolutely able to choose accessories and outfits and environments from every single possibility gives us a clear vision of who we are and what we want. 

And I can tell you with absolute certainty that every single time I've had a clear vision of what I want, I've gotten it! With a clear idea of the fashion I want for my life I make shifts; I accessorize differently, make purposeful connections, and face new directions. And then, once again, I choose happiness in working with what I'm easily offered. Yet, because I know clearly the style I'm interested in, I'm easily offered the accessories and opportunities that match! 

When I'm confused, though, or when I'm unsure, as I was at the beginning of my pants buying adventure, my son gave me a lovely and important reminder. Ask the people close to me. Ask my trusted friends and family what style they imagine I am. Often they will have a clarity that I might be lacking. Also, too, they may be seeing something that I don't see about me, and I may want to change it. 

Either way, their idea of my style will be enlightening and interesting. So, I'll ask!

It's obvious to me now why my son would know me as someone who'd want hippie jeans. After all, when people cleaned out their closets and gave me clothes I happily accepted them with a "recycling, re-purposing, community-minded used and shared" attitude, rather than a "poor me, how embarrassing" one. 

Besides, peace and love and freedom, man. That's so me!

When we get dressed, friends, whether it's the clothes or attitudes or careers we're choosing to wear, let's always keep in touch with our personal style. 

Sure, our styles will change sometimes, and that's freaking awesome, but let's always make sure we're the one choosing our style. Not because we want to fit in or be cool, but because we want to express and celebrate who we are!

Getting dressed offers us some surprising opportunities.
Now, excuse me while I put on my hippie jeans! 

Hugs, smiles, peace, and love!!!!
Autism Answer with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) 

Barefoot, books, and coffee, outside in my hippie jeans!

 

Autism Answer: My Softhearted Naivete Battles Prejudice

* I stumbled across this old article of mine that appeared in OpEdNews at the end of 2014. I don't remember if I've shared these thoughts here with you so I felt invited to do so. Hugs and happy reading!! ~Tsara

My boys and me!

My softhearted naivete has been a challenging gift.

In the presence of love and acceptance, I've always believed , prejudice will easily be lost.

But then things happened.

I was a teenage single mom, a mom with bare-feet allowing freedom for her noisy sons in grocery stores and quiet waiting rooms, a mom whose children were all different colors and who didn't go to church, a woman who finally loved and married a man with skin colored differently and the age difference of a generation.

While living life as myself, my softhearted naivete has been scoffed at and challenged. Even by my own husband who truly does love me. Even, in the more intense moments of self-reflection, by me.

But mostly by a world which can be prejudiced, cruel, and afraid.

When I moved with my sons to California, hoping to temporarily leave behind some of the more obnoxious prejudice of our small Texas town, my oldest boy came home after his first day at the new school proclaiming that he'd been abused and called a "terrorist" by his peers, and the bus driver had encouraged the behavior with shrugs and a tangible silence on the issue, that day my beliefs were challenged.

When I was told by officials in our small town that part of the reason they were threatening to take my kids away was simply that "They didn't like my kind around here" well, my softhearted beliefs were also threatened.

When Trayvon Martin was killed by George Zimmerman in 2012, and my husband and I continually asked our youngest son to take off his hood before going out with friends, and then wondered if he should even go out with friends, I'll admit my goodness and love beliefs were shaken.

When another of my sons was consistently on edge and playing defense anytime he visited with his girlfriend's family who would throw around horrible and offensive terms--f*ggots, n**ger, sand n**ger, ret*rd,--knowing well who his family was and who he loved, my love and acceptance beliefs were trampled on.

When my autistic brother would surprise a stranger by picking the lint off of their sweater or delightfully flicking their ponytail, and be responded to with anger or pathetic pity, my belief in a world that wanted to choose kindness was challenged, which too often challenged me so much that I was momentarily unkind. 

When Barack Obama was elected president an my husband and I braced for the inevitable storm of hatred we correctly felt coming in our bones, my softheart trembled under the weight of hate.

When another one of my sons, who is large, gay, funny, and strange, was battling depression and a hate for the people who use religion to be vocal and angry about men who love men, my belief in simply love was belittled.

And yet, despite these and so many other instances, huge and minuscule, that threatened to harden my heart and encourage me to take up arms to fight fire with fire, my beliefs remain.

Though, I am no longer naive.

I no longer think I can parade my family around with the expectation that we will always be quickly accepted, or that just by our loving nature we'll open eyes and encourage folks to rethink prejudice or assumptions.

I no longer think it's as simple as seeing our love. For folks who would otherwise choose to believe some people are better than or more important than others, observing my loving and diverse family (and the many other families like ours) at the airport or bus stop is not going to be that epiphany or catalyst for change. Not likely.

I no longer believe all people will willingly feel our love. Regardless of my comfort with (almost) always loving and having honest interest in all people, I've learned that my love isn't always appreciated or, and this is true, pure.

I no longer expect all people to accept us just because we are nice, or fun, or hard working. Now I know that we aren't actually these things in everyone's opinion.

I now know that it has taken work to get the half-assed acceptance and almost equality we have today. And that it will continue to take work and persistence and reflection and evolution to one day watch my sons walk off with their friends into a world that will accept them all as equally valuable.

But the reason I know these things is not because I'm smart or worldly. Instead it is my softhearted naivete, the willy-nillyness with which I had colorful babies at a young age, before marrying an older and different than me man, that insisted I learn these important truths.

I am a child of society, just like you. Yet, I am also a child of diversity, with a mom who perseverated on fairness and equality, so I've had that going for me.

But my own very real prejudices also became apparent as time grew with me, and my intense desire to be a good mom--indeed, I've always dreamed of becoming a great mom!--meant opening my eyes and doing the work. The work within me first, and continually, as I step out into the world.

But, as luck would have it, the work is love! Challenge, shake, trample, or belittle my beliefs all you want, they remain strong.

Stronger, because they have faced and grown to better understand their would-be enemies.

Yet today my soft heart and baskets of love in the face of hate are no longer naive.

And they work better and more efficiently than they used to because of it!

Most notably though, they still work.

They work hard, passionately, and almost desperately in the face of cultural realities, systemic and deep seeded as they are.

But always, eventually, love works.

And though it works best when it's not naive, I find that a little naivete can gift us with challenges we may have otherwise stepped away from.

My softhearted naivete has been a challenging gift.

And I am dedicated to sharing it with a world that it helped me believe in and forever love!

Hugs, smiles, and love!!

Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

For more stories and thoughts that grew up with me over the years I invite you to read my book, Spinning in Circles and Learning from Myself: A Collection of Stories that Slowly Grow Up.

Autism Answer: A Story Of Love Evolving

"A human being is nothing but a story with a skin around it."

~Fred Allen

When I was a teenager I went through a year of skipping school to wander the streets of Toronto, reading books and talking to strangers. Reading books was a familiar addiction, but chatting with strangers was new and exhilarating. They were like books to me, but more interactive. I discovered that the more I truly listened to these people I was meeting the better their stories became. My questions grew more personal and deep and I found I was able to draw from them ever more multi-layered stories.

I started to realize, though, that my interest in them was deeply selfish. I wanted more ideas, more perspectives, more stories, and though my book-people-strangers always thanked me and appreciated my honest interest in them, claiming I had helped them rethink one thing or another, I also knew that I would easily do the same thing with another stranger soon. I knew that my deep interest and authentic curiosity was for something different than them, something elusive and important to me. During my time with a new person I would feel as though all of the answers to everything were being offered, and for a while after the conversation had ended I'd feel nourished and complete. I'd feel connected to everyone in an invisible but undeniable way. For a while. But then the feeling would wane, uncertainty would creep in and I'd need a new story, a new reason to feel, a new excuse to dive deeply into the reasons and motivations of someone drastically different than me. I was never satisfied! 

For a while I worried that my selfishness made me the worst kind of liar. Because in the moments that I was into a person, listening and exploring their lives and reasons, I was honestly in love. Sometimes romantically, sometimes friendly, sometimes simply being to being, but the love was active and real. Yet when they tried to make it last, tried to make plans for another day, I'd cringe at the thought. I felt done. I felt we'd had something special and had given each other personalized gifts, and that was enough. Time to move on. 

Rather than be honest I would stumble and make pretend promises. I would build a small escape route into the plan, in case they tried to follow up, generally reminding them that I had to ask my mom first, knowing I wouldn't ask. Knowing I'd just use her as my reason to say no if they called. This lie, offered at the tail end of a deeply authentic and enlightening conversation, tainted the entire relationship. It tainted me. 

And then I started to realize that being selfish is okay, and that in any relationship we are responsible for taking care of ourselves and keeping an eye on our motivators, so a degree of self awareness and even selfishness can be healthy. As long as I stayed honest and aware and willing to allow others to do the same, to have their own motivators and needs, my selfishness was okay. With this in mind I started to practice honesty in transition. How funny, I realized, that I could be deeply truthful and candid throughout these conversations with strangers yet have such trouble when the conversation was coming to a close. How strange that I struggled so much with endings and transitions. 

I thought of the novels I read so voraciously. I struggled with their endings, too. But I didn't feel responsible for how they felt; indeed, I loved how easily I could reach for another book to take their place without feeling too much guilt! Even more delicious was the way I could imagine more to their story! The way I could write more in my head and feel the freedom of fiction! So, perhaps that was the secret to comfortable endings with strangers. Perhaps embracing my willingness to walk away and create stories for myself would help me be honest with them. 

I allowed myself to see my fellow human beings as stories with skin around them. I started to find a clear way to give them gratitude for their time without feeling obligated to pretend I was willing to give them more of me. And then I realized that I, too, was a story with skin around me! And boy, was that ever powerful!! I was a story that I was responsible for.

I've never been a fan of responsibility, so it took me a long while to truly accept my role, but it was immediately powerful knowledge. 

With the added understanding that I was responsible for my own story, married with the new clarity of my willingness to walk away, I began, paradoxically, to follow up on new friendships and romantic love. How often is this true? So often! By stepping into our responsibilities and being clear about who we are, we often open new doors of possibility. Because I embraced my willingness to walk away I became more willing to stay; because I knew myself as someone who would, if necessary, walk away. 

Turns out, my fear of staying had more to do with not wanting to get too tangled and tied in a "bad" relationship. Oops! In truth, fear of bad relationships is what brought them to me in the first place. Fear always invites danger, I know that now. 

Relationships are gifts. It's quite possible that they are the greatest gifts. The people in our lives are like stories with skin around them but they are not books, they are not movies, they are not a blog post. They are an interactive infinitely valuable and necessary story that is forever evolving. When you invite that story to become part of yours, when you influence the story of another by sharing your own, you are becoming bigger than just you. That is quite a valuable gift!

For those of you seeking relationships this Valentine's Day, for those of you celebrating them or avoiding them or harrumphing them, please at least give yourself the gift of understanding them.

Give yourself that gift,

and chocolate with coffee. That too!

Happy Valentine's Day!

Hugs, smiles, and love!!

Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Relationships are gifts of discovery and connection.

Random Love Advice, to You from Me: All of our relationships grow stronger and more comfortable the sooner we learn to identify the difference between inconvenient or annoying vs an actual problem. Everyone we love will do and say and believe things we find inconvenient or annoying, this is okay--this is actually healthy! Allow this! But when we come across a belief or habit that is a real problem, we must take the time to untangle it and examine it. Almost always it can be worked out together, but sometimes it's a problem that means we need to sever a relationship. This is okay! This is healthy! Allow this! It will give all of us room for more nourishing relationships with their inconvenient and annoying moments that keep us comfortably able to allow difference. Habits that encourage us to argue our points clearly and listen honestly. Inconvenient and annoying is not a problem, it's a valuable part of diversity. Learn to appreciate it!

Autism Answer: Home Is Where I AM (aka Story Five)

*My last blog post was a collection of Story Snapshots from my recent trip to California. I love all my snapshot stories, of course, but the one I wrote and called "Story Five" is probably the most useful for others. Although it's about me and my feelings, it's also a Universal and common story, so I decided to publish it as a stand alone. I hope you enjoy the read and recognize some of the feelings! Huge hugs!! ~Tsara

Story Five: 

My first flight to California was seriously delayed and by the time we were able to board I was already late for my connecting flight. Landing in Salt Lake City, Utah, a group of us were given hotel vouchers and cute little overnight packs with toothpaste, toothbrush, razor and much needed (in my case) deodorant. 

At first I tried to find a new flight so that I could get to my sister and her girls sooner. I made phone calls and checked flight availability. In the end, though, I went to the hotel with a lively and fun group of strangers. We bantered and I told a story about getting pulled over for rocking out too hard in my car, insisting that the police officer really just wanted to get a peek at my adorable children. I don't know why I told that story, it's a lie. A friend of mine was pulled over for rocking out too hard in her car, not me. Oh, well. Strangers are a fun way to discover these things about ourselves. I remember thinking that if I said it was my friend someone might challenge the validity of the story and truly, I just wanted the story to be a vehicle to bring up how adorable my sons are, I was uninterested in a discussion of the story's likelihood as a destination. 

Anyway, as we got to the hotel and climbing out of the van I was delighted to discover snow surrounding us! My heart soared and I craved the company of my children. They would love to see the snow! Breathing in the crisp night air I suddenly felt young. My teen years were spent in Toronto, Ontario, walking and busing many winter nights to comedy clubs and coffee shops. Smoking cigarette's and singing to myself. Lordy, that was long ago! 

We headed carefully up the steps into the hotel lobby.

One of my fellow travelers pulled out a guitar and played quietly as we took turns handing in our vouchers and discussing our temporarily stalled travel plans. I thought of how many times I'd stayed with my sister and my nieces in hotels that were as nice as this one. When left to me and my pocket book I'm inclined to sleep in the car or grab a terrifically cheap motel. Not my sister. She and her family have always stayed in venues with coffee shops and fancy lobbies and rooms that offer expensive extras. I missed my sister.

I climbed the stairs to my room and entered, alone and exhausted. The room was too large for only me and so I dropped my sweater and bag and purse in different places, trying to make it look full. There was a fireplace that turned on with a switch. I turned it on and missed my sons again. They would get a kick out of that! I was oddly happy to be alone and missing all of my loved ones. Walking over to the window I peeked out at the snow again and heard it call to me. Leaving my sweater tossed on the back of a chair I picked up the room key and headed out. 

The night air tickled my arms and chilled my lungs. I spun in a circle and looked out at the city, not entirely blanketed in white but boasting a comfortable amount of snow. It looked used to it. 

My soul was excited, young, old, alone, lonely, complete, overjoyed, and lost. In short: deliciously overwhelmed! 

I had a moment of clarity. I missed my family. All of them, everywhere. Everyone is growing wings and choosing their own trajectories, taking flight and choosing different winds. I find it easy to encourage them, after all, I can't wait to learn from the things they do and the places they go! Yet my own home feels like it's getting smaller and insignificant. If home is where the heart is, and my heart is where my family is, where do I go? Where is my home? 

Looking down at my feet in the snow and embracing the deliciously overwhelmed feeling completely, I knew my truth. Home is where I am. I am home when I am authentic and comfortably me. When I embrace my strength and my vulnerability and explore my possibilities. 

Oh, friends!
There's no place like home!
Hugs, smiles, and love!! 
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: Story Snapshots from California

Story Snapshots from California 

Story One:

I'm in California, babysitting my nieces and feeling infinitely happy to finally see them!

I'm in California, babysitting my nieces and feeling a deep longing for my sons at home in Texas.

These are both completely true statements.

Loving so many people is a wonderful way to exercise your emotions! The more people we love the more flexible and strong our emotions grow.

Story Two: 

My six year old nieces (twins) love love love to listen to and read stories. A few nights ago they remembered that I am a writer with a book published. They asked if I'm writing another book, and I said you bet! Then they asked what it is about, and I told them. 

They love it! They wanted more!

So I told them about the movie I wrote, which is filled with stories. They love it!! 

I'm having such fun sharing my stories with them, friends! Keeping the stories sophisticated while being sure they're also age appropriate. It's surprisingly easy! Big concepts are equally interesting and valid at little ages.

Interesting Observation: Listening to my young nieces call me a writer gave me a new kind of joy. Feeling them hang on my every word while I spin a tale, periodically reminding each other that my stories are so good because I'm a writer, led me to realize that to them I've always been a writer. In their young lives, Aunt T is a writer and always has been. They're the only people in my family who know me as the person who has always been doing what she dreamed of doing. Neat!

Of course, my nieces hang on every word when pretty much anybody tells a story. As I said, they love love love to listen to and read stories! But there's a neat new dimension when they talk about it like I'm a professional storyteller. And it's fun to explore and incorporate new dimensions! 

I wonder what story we'll tell tonight?
Hugs, smiles, and love!!

Story Three:

I woke up before the sun to the sound of my six year old nieces yawning and scooting around in the crisp sheets of my sister's bed. I felt them snuggle into me from either side and wished for a moment I could have it all. Quiet times with my nieces, coffee times with my sister, rocking out to intense and often inappropriate songs with my sons, dancing alone in my dance room, snuggling my hubby and working side by side with my mom. Laughing all night with my best friend and chatting on the phone with my brothers. All of that, and more! 

Of course, I do have it all. I just wished for a moment I could have it all, all the time and all at once; incompatible or not! 

But then one of my nieces (the one that shares my name) rubbed my arm and said: "Aunt T, you should write a book about two little girls who love their mommy but when she goes to work for a long time their Aunt T comes to babysit and they have so much fun. But then they have to go to school, but it's okay because soon their Aunt T picks them up from school and they have so much fun again. You should write that book." 

That was the moment I knew that this was the moment I wanted to be in for the moment!

It was almost magically timed as well. I'd just been thinking about writing a story for them that was sort of about our week together, but I was  thinking I'd have to create a fancy and fun world with characters who were similar to us yet different, so that it wouldn't be so darn obvious that I was writing our story and trying to make them remember this week with the delight that I'll always remember it. 

It turns out, these girls are completely comfortable with obvious! 

Now I'm just left hoping the teenagers will feel similarly about me. My teen nieces are wonderful, brilliant, beautiful, talented, and delightful. I adore them with every inch of my soul. However, unlike how easy it is to show affection to the little ones, I have to pull back with the older girls. I love teenagers because you can really truly chat with them, but they are (appropriately) suspicious of overly cheesy consistent praise and affection. 

Last night, after the little ones had fallen asleep, we sat up a while chatting and laughing and I truly listened to them. And when I just couldn't take it and I had to hug them, I did so with permission. And when I just had to tell them how awesome they are, I did so with specificity. I hope they felt the affection in that. 

I know that for me, it felt fabulous and fun! 

Oh, boy, friends! I am having a fantastic week!!
Hugs, smiles, and love!!

Story Four: 

I was driving my teenage nieces home from various rehearsals and appointments yesterday, listening to their typical teenage observations and ruminations. 

Eventually I hear them both offer some playful variation of: "My life is the worst!" 

I quickly countered passionately: "Not a single person in this car has a bad life! Sure, we have bad moments, but only awesome lives."

Both my nieces nodded while the thirteen year old offered: "That was totally quotable, Aunt T." 

I was giddy and goofy with joy. My niece thinks I'm quotable!! I played it cool, though. Turning onto their street I gave her a quick sideways smile in the rear view mirror and purred: "Yes, well, I'm a famous writer, you know. I'm infinitely quotable darling!"

We had a giggle!

I suppose it's only fair for my nieces and my sons to quote me now and then. After all, I'm always quoting their awesomeness to you!

Story Five: 

My first flight to California was seriously delayed and by the time we were able to board I was already late for my connecting flight. Landing in Salt Lake City, Utah, a group of us were given hotel vouchers and cute little overnight packs with toothpaste, toothbrush, razor and much needed (in my case) deodorant. 

At first I tried to find a new flight so that I could get to my sister and her girls sooner. I made phone calls and checked flight availability. In the end, though, I went to the hotel with a lively and fun group of strangers. We bantered and I told a story about getting pulled over for rocking out too hard in my car, insisting that the police officer really just wanted to get a peek at my adorable children. I don't know why I told that story, it's a lie. A friend of mine was pulled over for rocking out too hard in her car, not me. Oh, well. Strangers are a fun way to discover these things about ourselves. I remember thinking that if I said it was my friend someone might challenge the validity of the story and truly, I just wanted the story to be a vehicle to bring up how adorable my sons are, I was uninterested in a discussion of the story's likelihood as a destination. 

Anyway, as we got to the hotel and climbing out of the van I was delighted to discover snow surrounding us! My heart soared and I craved the company of my children. They would love to see the snow! Breathing in the crisp night air I suddenly felt young. My teen years were spent in Toronto, Ontario, walking and busing many winter nights to comedy clubs and coffee shops. Smoking cigarette's and singing to myself. Lordy, that was long ago! 

We headed carefully up the steps into the hotel lobby.

One of my fellow travelers pulled out a guitar and played quietly as we took turns handing in our vouchers and discussing our temporarily stalled travel plans. I thought of how many times I'd stayed with my sister and my nieces in hotels that were as nice as this one. When left to me and my pocket book I'm inclined to sleep in the car or grab a terrifically cheap motel. Not my sister. She and her family have always stayed in venues with coffee shops and fancy lobbies and rooms that offer expensive extras. I missed my sister.

I climbed the stairs to my room and entered, alone and exhausted. The room was too large for only me and so I dropped my sweater and bag and purse in different places, trying to make it look full. There was a fireplace that turned on with a switch. I turned it on and missed my sons again. They would get a kick out of that! I was oddly happy to be alone and missing all of my loved ones. Walking over to the window I peeked out at the snow again and heard it call to me. Leaving my sweater tossed on the back of a chair I picked up the room key and headed out. 

The night air tickled my arms and chilled my lungs. I spun in a circle and looked out at the city, not entirely blanketed in white but boasting a comfortable amount of snow. It looked used to it. 

My soul was excited, young, old, alone, lonely, complete, overjoyed, and lost. In short: deliciously overwhelmed! 

I had a moment of clarity. I missed my family. All of them, everywhere. Everyone is growing wings and choosing their own trajectories, taking flight and choosing different winds. I find it easy to encourage them, after all, I can't wait to learn from the things they do and the places they go! Yet my own home feels like it's getting smaller and insignificant. If home is where the heart is, and my heart is where my family is, where do I go? Where is my home? 

Looking down at my feet in the snow and embracing the deliciously overwhelmed feeling completely, I knew my truth. Home is where I am. I am home when I am authentic and comfortably me. When I embrace my strength and my vulnerability and explore my possibilities. 

Oh, friends!
There's no place like home!
Hugs, smiles, and love!! 
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: How Our Kids Are Doing In School Is Not How Our Kids Are Doing

REMINDER: Our children's grades do not tell us how our children are doing. They tell us how our children's grades are doing. 

Sure, they are worth chatting about with our rugrats but good grades do not equal doing good, or vice versa. 

Often I hear parents ask each other: "How are the kids doing?" And far too often I hear a quick response that is some version of: "Great! She's in honor roll this year." or "Awesome! He's finally getting his school work in on time and bringing up his grades." or "Struggling. Her teachers tell me that she doesn't really apply herself or do the work." 

My hope is that we parents will remember to pay attention to how our kids feel about school and what they're actually learning, but we'll easily know that how they are is not about grades. Their grades do tell us a story about our children, they give us an idea of what they struggle with and care about and what their motivators are. But the grades aren't about HOW they're doing. Sure, most of us kind of "get" that but we're losing our grip on how true it is. 

When we run into old friends at the grocery store and they ask: "How are the kids doing?" I hope we'll easily respond with some version of: "Great! She's really into this new idea she has about writing the story for a video game." or "Awesome! He's been telling me all about why he wants to build Eco friendly buildings in busy American cities." or "Struggling. She feels confident about her ideas most days but struggles to like herself. We'll get there though. School is helping, she has a great group of friends and a supportive counselor." 

Some of our children go to school, so ignoring their grades or teacher reports would be silly. But their grades do not tell us how they're doing. 

Our children do. 

Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)