Joy-Shaped

Quick, fun note to post this morning. I've discovered a new tool for making "word cloud" images from the words contained in documents: on a web site called Tagxedo. (They've got both a freebie version, which I used, and a paid product.) Here's what came out when I put in recent posts on the Elvis Sightings blog, and chose a particularly appropriate template:

I like the idea of using the principle of "joy" to shape my words!

Truth, Lies, and Memetasticity

Oh, I shouldn't-ta done that.

My latest Facebook status-update is a re-post of a status-update making fun of awareness-raising status-updates.

As karmic revenge, I've just been tagged for an award that makes fun of award-tagging! Unlike most awards, which by the time you get them you have no idea where they originated, this one was invented by Jillsmo from Yeah. Good Times. (And she, like, even admits it!)

The award was inflicted bestowed upon me by Lynn of My Life as an Ungraceful, Unhinged, and Unwilling Draftee into the Autism Army. The instructions are mighty foul-mouthed not entirely suitable for family blogging. So I'm going to abbreviate. Click on Lynn's link above to see what I've left out.

1. You must proudly display the absolutely disgusting graphic that I have created for these purposes...
2. You must list 5 things about yourself, and 4 of them must be bold-faced lies...
3. You must pass this award on to 5 bloggers that you either like or don't like or don't really have much of an opinion about...
4. If you fail to follow any of the above rules, I will... (yadda, yadda, yadda, see how scared I am!)
5. This one isn't actually a rule, but once you do the above, please link up to the Memetastic Hop so that I can keep track of where this thing goes.

OK, with all those bleepedy-bleep rules out of the way, here are my 5 statements, four of which are lies.

1. This is the last blog-award I am EVAH going to allow to waste my precious time (and yours). For reals.
2. I turned down two offers of marriage before JoyDad came along.
3. I am so allergic to make-up, I almost break out in hives just thinking about it.
4. I once hitch-hiked across the French/German border, in the company of another American, picked up by a carload of Algerians. The border guards had no idea what to make of us.
5. I took a stilt-walking gym class in college one semester, in which I learned to walk on clown stilts three feet high. Never looked so slender in my life, before or since!

There you go. Guess away if you must. And I'm not going to pass this on, nor even ask you to post your own truth-or-lies. 'Cause Jillsmo doesn't know me from a hole in the ground anyway. (Oh wait... is that Lynn who's going to carry out the dire threats?)

Tagged, Redux

I've circled back to blogging about tagging several times now. My first Tagged post was about Joy's Project Lifesaver radio tag, for tracking purposes in case she wanders. (Now that she's in kindergarten, we're extra-glad to have that safeguard.) Just lately, I succumbed to the lure of tagging via blog-meme.

Our latest new form of tag in the JoyFamily is a disability hang-tag for access to priority parking spaces.

Parking lot safety for Joy has long been a concern of ours, but the possibility of a hang-tag didn't really click for me until I had a conversation with Joy's special educator about dropping Joy off at the start of the school day. I've got my work-schedule arranged so as to be able to do both drop-off and pickup for the girls at school, so we aren't taking advantage of the "short bus" that drops kids right by the back door. If you don't bus, parental drop-off is on the far side of a busy street, with a walk either up or down-hill to the crossing guard. As an alternative, Joy's special educator mentioned that some parents do a quick drop-off in the handicap spots. Of course, for that you need official dispensation.

Earlier in our journey I'd have had more of an internal debate. ("But she's not handicapped -- she's just delayed a little -- we don't really need this -- why mark her as more different than she already is" -- etc.) At this point, though, I've learned to agonize less over taking advantage of available resources and designations that can make our lives easier. The application for the tags was a simple form, just a download away. It needed a physician's approval, which Joy's doctor gave easily on request. Two hang tags soon arrived in the mail, one for each car's glove compartment.

So far, I have used them sparingly: only at school, and only at drop-off. In general I'd prefer to have Joy learn to walk with me and her sister and the other kids. Sometimes we make it the whole 15-minute walk home! However, if there's rain and puddles, or new snow, the walk becomes too much of a stimmy distracted battle. It's exhausting, not entirely safe, and sets up a miserable mood for turning Joy over to school staff. So on those days, out comes the tag and we drive practically up to the door.

I haven't yet used the tag in a public parking lot yet, but I sure feel better knowing we have the option. Parking lots can be scary-rough -- there was a set of helpful parking-lot tips the other day at Stuart Duncan's blog with suggestions for the situation. (I added the hang-tag suggestion in the comments!)

It has crossed my mind that, with Joy's invisible disability, we might come in for some pushback from the self-appointed parking lot police -- the folks who see fit to call challenge if they see someone they don't think looks disabled get out of a car in a handicap-accessible spot. I was reminded of this yesterday when Rachel posted at Journeys with Autism about the barrage of doubt and disbelief that people with invisible disabilities often face. She mentioned one woman who developed a snappy comeback for the doubters: when someone issued a "you don't look disabled" parking lot challenge, she'd fire back, "And you don't look like a doctor!" (Rachel's post and the comments were much more detailed and nuanced than this little example; well worth the read.)

I gave a quick delighted high-five in the comments about that comeback -- it's so the perfect response that you wish you'd thought of at the time! I've been re-thinking my enthusiasm somewhat, though. It strikes me that if any parking lot pushback were to come our way, I'd rather be prepared with a gentle, educational answer than a snappy zinger. That way if the challenger turns out to be a well-meaning soul and open to new ideas, I might be able to send them away thoughtful rather than cranky/defensive. And if they really deserved the edgy comeback after all -- well, then I'll have been nicer to them than they deserved. Which wouldn't be so bad.

I should make clear that my re-thinking is in no way meant as a prescription for how I think everyone ought to react to a parking lot challenge. Just my own thoughts and planned approach. A person with an invisible disability who has had it up to HERE with spending precious energy trying to educate people who won't listen anyway -- may well choose a different approach entirely.

The snow has been falling all day today. Glad we've got that hang-tag for tomorrow.

Tagged!

The young gazelle darts away from the wildlife researcher, back into the savannah. Her new radio-transmitter tag obviously annoys her slightly, but soon she will ignore it and continue her routines as usual...


Joy's been tagged! We're fortunate to live in one of the counties offering Project Lifesaver, a locator service for people at risk of becoming lost and not having the wherewithal to get themselves found again. Here's an article I linked to in a prior post, talking about the partnership between Project Lifesaver and law enforcement.

We had to call our local sheriff's department to start the process. We set up an appointment, and this week two deputies came out with the equipment and a stack of forms to fill out. It's always interesting when forms try to cover multiple situations (in this case a range from kids with autism to elders with dementia or Alzheimers) -- some of the questions can be laughably inapplicable!

In addition to the bracelet on Joy's ankle, about the size of a women's digital wristwatch, we were given an ID number and transmitter-frequency number. In case of an escape emergency, we're to call 911 and tell them that we're with Project Lifesaver. If we didn't happen to have the numbers on us, they could look them up, but having the numbers saves a few moments of time. We also got a small battery-tester device, that we're to test the anklet with once a day and record the results. Then at the beginning of each month, we have to pay a visit with Joy to the sheriff's department, turn in our testing log, and get a new battery and band. Batteries should last 45 days, but they change them monthly to be sure, and you get a new band because they have to cut the old band to get at the battery.

Joy didn't like getting the band put on, and tugged at it a couple of times the first evening, but since then has pretty much ignored it. I was glad to see that it wasn't as big a device as I was fearing. It would be less publicly noticeable if she'd wear it on her wrist like a watch, but I think she'd probably be biting at it all day. We're going into fall weather anyway, so it'll be invisible under long pants except at swimming lessons and such (yes, it's waterproof!)

There are consumer products on the market to do this kind of tracking, such as Ion Kids, but in our county at least, Project Lifesaver is grant and donation-funded for now, and also gets us that partnership going with law enforcement first-responders.

So leaving aside our speedy radio-tagged gazelle, there's another kind of tagging I wanted to address. For my family readers who don't inhabit the blog world on a regular basis... I've discovered that there's a practice among bloggers that has a bit of a chain-letter vibe to it, where bloggers get a set of fun questions and answer them in a blog post, and then "tag" several other bloggers that they'd like to see playing the game as well. (Here's an example from Trish at Another Piece of the Puzzle.)

Bloggers also can recognize one another's work and create links to their favorite reads by means of awards. I was recently recognized by Barbara at TherExtras with the "Premio al esfuerzo personal" for "excellence in the expression of values in a blog". The values in question in this case, as defined by the award giver: "movement [as in body, not the other b-word], personal responsibility, politeness, acceptance, words used well, and love." Thank you Barbara! I'm honored!

I'm also going to break the rules, because what I'm supposed to do is post the rules that go along with the award, and then pass the award along further. I'm going to respectfully decline the opportunity, with thanks. In general, I figure not to participate in "tagging", mostly because as I said yesterday, my post ideas are outrunning my time. If you do tag me with the fun-questions sort of thing, I may answer in your comments, but probably not on my blog.

However, I can't finish this particular post without also acknowledging having received another honor, one that I don't have to feel guilty about not passing along because it's all mine! In honor of our meeting last week, Mama Mara says, "I officially dub JoyMama as Mama Mara's goddess of freaking miracles." Much appreciated, Mama Mara -- you rock, too!