Posts by Peggy
When Baby Birds Fly
Earlier this week, the boys and I drove to Plano. We checked the route to SMU in Plano.
(We did some other cool stuff, like eat a terrific lunch at Whiskey Cake Kitchen Cafe, and buy some shirting fabric to make Michael two more custom dress shirts … his mother is his secret tailor.)
But SMU in Plano is home to the place where Sam is hoping to do his internship this spring.
Some dedicated parents and professionals have started nonPareil.institute, a computer workgroup for young adults on the autism spectrum. Sam wants to volunteer as part of a practicum he needs to complete his computer technology certificate at North Central Texas College.
We’ve been taking this whole thing in baby steps. It has been extraordinarily difficult to find help in searching for an internship for him. First of all, state resources meant to help … major vacuum there.
The college isn’t quite yet set up to assist students like Sam in the search — in the past, they have had their hands full just managing and approving the opportunities students found for themselves. Hopefully, that will change as the program grows and matures at the Corinth and Flower Mound campuses.
Job fairs at nearby UNT? For UNT students only … no sharing. I suggest renegotiating boundaries there — just like they’ve done with scores of other resources college kids need to succeed.
A friend in the computer business heroically, graciously did a little bit of legwork for us, enough for us to understand that Sam couldn’t just walk into the door of a company and offer himself for a computer hardware tech internship. He would have to find out who the vendor was that provided the service and take it from there.
Holy cow. That seemed like asking someone to find out who brings the bagel cart every morning and then finding out if they’ll let him arrange the cream cheeses before the carts head out the door every morning.
I think. I don’t know. Computer tech isn’t my world. My world is “content creation.”
But, as luck and Divine Intervention would have it, someone caught a presentation by the nonPareil people at an autism conference and they passed the materials on to me. I shared with NCTC, an advisor at NCTC reached out, and finding the waters warm, on Tuesday, we drove there and walked around the building to get a vibe.
No people vibes, just driving and building vibes.
As I said, baby steps.
That was enough to get Sam pretty jazzed. He called the director and left a message. And applied for a tolltag.
That just about made me weep. I was girding myself for driving him there two times a week. But Sam says, “I can make that drive. I like this area. I could even get an apartment here.”
I reminded him that internships don’t pay, and the rent at Chez Wolfe can’t be beat. Especially at the SO NY Lofts at Tennyson and the Tollway.
Baby steps, son. Baby steps.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #54
[sound of Elvis Presley, A Little Less Conversation, blaring from the computer]
Sam: Oh, no, Mom’s dancing.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #53
[As Sam douses the Christmas roast pork with winter fruits and a port wine reduction on his plate with ketchup]
Michael: Man, Mom, you could cut this roast with a butter knife.
Peggy [blinking back tears]: That’s something your dad would have said.
Merry TubaChristmas!
I’m looking at my clock and realizing there’s still time to head to Dallas for this wonderful tradition invented by tuba players — the only musicians who really know how to have fun.
The timing makes the poison
In 1976, somebody had a good idea: let’s protect people from toxic compounds. Then, the law designed to do that got pummeled by the asbestos industry. We’ve not had the courage, since, to revisit the issue.
Toxicologists used to say, the dose makes the poison. Now that 5 to 15 percent of children have neurodevelopmental disorders — including autism — they are learning that the timing makes the poison, too.
The EPA is building a roster of about 200 chemicals that pose the greatest risk to our health.
They aren’t getting very far with it.
Why do so many advances we make become the very things that seem to do us in? Why aren’t we smart enough to avoid that?
Overheard in the Wolfe House #52
Sam (via phone from work at Albertsons): I’m going to be a half-hour late. I just wanted you to know.
Peggy: Oh, ok.
Sam: It just took me that long to go through my voice mail.
Peggy: It did?
Sam: Yes, for the messages you and Michael left. The things to buy.
Peggy: Yes, we kept trying to tell you to not pay attention to the previous message.
Sam: It was a real pile-up, Mom.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #51
Peggy (interrupting Sam): uh, hang on, I just burned my fingers.
Sam: Wait – how – on that handle there? (pointing to the Dutch oven sitting on the stove top).
Peggy: Yes, I’m cleaning the oven. I didn’t expect it to heat the top of the stove that much.
Sam: Oh, ok, it’s not my fault then.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #50
Sam: My schedule is getting so busy.
Peggy: Do we need to re-print the calendar?
Sam: Yes, I’m getting in demand.
Always
Mark’s can-fix-it talent lives on in Sam, who just repaired the computer printer. Mark’s “visualize anything” lives on in Paige, who just caught a connecting flight in Kansas City in her stocking feet. Mark’s broad shoulders live on in Michael, who just split the Christmas errand frenzy with me today. Mark’s heart lives in mine, forever.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #49
Peggy (walking in the front door): Christmas presents!
Sam: Uh, better get wrapping.
Peggy: Nope, unwrapping. It was the company Christmas party today … so what did you find?
Sam: Cocoa, and peppermint bark.
Peggy: Have at it.
Sam: Can you dip the bark in the cocoa?
Peggy: I like the way you think, Sam.