Tag Archives: funny

New Book Release – Sharing Stories on Our Autism Journey


June is a great month. It official marks summer break from school, as well as the first day of Summer. It is also my birth month, which is why I decided to publish The Road I’ve Traveled on my birthday.

The Road I’ve Traveled is now available for pre-order on Amazon. Its official release date will be on the 19th of June.

I absolutely love the cover. The anchor represents my time in the Navy. The color blue represents my love of the ocean, as well as autism awareness.

The Road Ive Traveled

The Road I’ve Traveled is a compilation of poems and short stories Jennifer wrote during moments of her life where she felt the need to get it all out. She writes about being in the Navy during the tragedies of 9/11, having to deploy to New York where she and her shipmates stayed in New York’s harbor for three weeks, guarding the coastline in hopes of preventing any further attacks.

She writes about loss, love, heartbreak, family. You can see the fondness she had for her grandfather as she includes a heartfelt eulogy she had written moments after his passing.

She also writes about being a single mom, as well as a mom to a child who is on the autism spectrum. The journey they have endured together has been bumpy, but they continue to plow through life, learning about autism and sensory processing disorder as they go.

You can find all of my books, recently published and upcoming, under my name and my pen name, posted on my website: www.twistedcrowpress.com/books
Or, you can find them on Amazon:
For all books published under my name, Jennifer N. Adams on Amazon, click here.
For all books published under my pen name, J. Raven Wilde on Amazon, click here.
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Just A Little Peek


Earlier today, I caught my daughter going through everyone’s stocking. I know she’s anxiously waiting for Christmas, but I had to again, tell her that she has to wait for Christmas day to open presents, and to also leave the stockings alone as they’re not all for her; she didn’t bother getting into hers, which is on the other side of the tree, with her name on it. I thought I had put them up high enough, but I’m guessing she stood on the back of the couch and got them down, then dumped them all out. I know she particularly liked what my nephew is getting, as she was wearing it. I had to tell her that was for Hunter, which she put back with no arguments. The two of them are really close, like brother and sister.

She still hasn’t found my new hiding spot for all the presents, thank goodness. Guess the third time is the charm, or maybe it’s the really heavy container I put in front of the closet door for good measure. If I have a problem moving that thing, she won’t be able to budge it an inch. Maybe I should knock on wood…*knock, knock, knock*…wait the desk is fake wood…

Each time she found my hiding spot, she would open all the presents, carefully putting the empty packages into the trash can, then run around playing with everything she got out. I wasn’t home when this had happened, or it would’ve been prevented when she got too close to where I was hiding everything. When I walked inside the house, she immediately rushed up to me and showed me what she got with all the excitement of a four year old. Of course I knew where she got the toys and inside I was screaming ‘NO!”, but on the outside, I was smiling and just agreed to let her have them. There was no way I was going to take toys away from a child with autism. So, I just simply found a new hiding spot for the next round of presents, twice.

I didn’t buy that much for her to open each time I had moved to each hiding spot, but now that it’s closing in on the big day, there’s no way she’s going to get into them now, Mommy is broke, er, I mean Santa is broke, so he put this heavy 20 gallon container in front of the door, hiding all gifts from small and crafty hands. I’m so lucky she can’t read this, lol!

I was talking to one of my cousins, and we both agreed that peeking at our presents before Christmas, runs in our family, so I know I’m getting paid for my raising. My sisters and I would open our presents early. Our parents would put a few under the tree and it would bug us, not knowing what was in those wrapped packages. I had unwrapping presents down to a science. Steaming the tape just so and then peal it off without tearing the wrapping. Though once we got a peek at the contents, we weren’t at all happy, so when Christmas arrived, we weren’t all that excited to open anything. Let’s just say, kids aren’t all that happy to receive clothes for Christmas, that wasn’t what we told Santa what we wanted. So what happened? It wasn’t until later when we found out that our little scheme wasn’t much of a secret and that was why the early presents under the tree were nothing but clothes.

Well played. 

Now I know how to deal with that when my daughter gets a little bit older, but how to deal with her now is the fun part. I can’t even get her to leave the ornaments on the tree alone. She takes off with them, plays with them, then I can’t find the things when I notice they’re gone. Usually, they’re hanging on the Venetian blinds in the living room, but I guess she got tired of me taking them down and putting them back on the tree because they’re now MIA.

 

Down the Loo It Goes


My daughter has a fascination with the toilet, but only the one at home. Something about throwing something into the porcelain potty, mostly one of her toys or her toothbrush, then pull the handle and watch it disappear. Is it the disappearing act that allures her? If so, I could pull up David Copperfield on youtube and have her watch him for a few hours. Or is it the sound of the water being sloshed around the bowl, before it is drained out, or watching the bowl fill back up with water again? I’m not sure what it is about the thing, but it seems to call her attention to it and for some reason, she has to throw something in and flush it down.

I usually come running once I hear the flush, only making it in time to hear her gasp and yell out, “Oh no, my toy!” I repeatedly tell her that I can’t rescue whatever it is that she flushed down the loo, it’s gone forever, but this never helps. It doesn’t help to put her in the sad spot (a certain spot in the house where she sits when she’s in trouble). I’ve put door knob covers on the bathroom door, but the door handle is too small for the cover and she can tear the cover apart.

Usually she’ll toss something into the loo that will pass all the way through, but there’s been a few times she’s thrown in something a little bigger that won’t fit through the loopty part under the bowl and becomes lodged, clogging it up. After having to remove the toilet from the floor a second time, I decided to buy a lock for the toilet itself. I just hope that whomever walks into the bathroom isn’t in a big hurry and let’s me give them a quick instruction on how to unlock the toilet so that they can use it.

loolock

The first lock was a cheap ($2.97) latch that sticks onto the toilet bowl and lid. It was the only one this store had, so I bought it and took it home to try it out. You have to have the right toilet for this or it won’t stay stuck on the thing and even small hands could remove it without any trouble at all. My toilet wasn’t the right toilet for this one and I could NOT get the thing to stay on it, no matter where I placed the thing. Time to go to another store…actually, look online first, then go to another store. The second lock was just a little more pricier ($12), but it works. Plus, there’s no worry on whether someone forgets to lock the lock or not as it automatically locks itself back into place, the person who last uses the toilet just has to remember to shut the lid in order for said lock to do its job.

loolock2

Time for a few test runs with the miniature version of me. Oh yes, she’s not called mini me for nothing, I’ve flushed my share of things down the loo, usually those things belonged to my mom, like her contacts for instant and in the early 80’s those things were pricey.

I was about to start cooking dinner, but decided it was time for her to sit on her little potty first. She’s still potty training. She sits down and I walk away, but casually peek around the corner and watch her with curiosity. I see her look at the big toilet and see that she notices the new lock I put on there. She reaches for the lid, but can’t get the thing opened. Suddenly, she glares at it, knowing her fun has been had. I giggled, did a mental jump for joy, then walked away. No more flushing things down the loo, no more calling family members over to unclog it. Maybe I can stop buying her toothbrushes in bulk.

A Pair of Red Foxes


I was helping my grandmother clean one of the rooms one day and casually glance out the window at the clearing behind our house. I saw movement at the edge of the tree line. Suddenly whatever it was came out into the clearing, a red fox, and following behind it was its mate.

Chasing one another and playing, I told my grandmother, “Look, red foxes.”

She looks up to see what I was staring and smiling at. “They must have a den close by,” she says.

It was a few years ago when I first heard what I thought was a panther. I was in the backroom, rocking Dublin to sleep; she was about a month old. Laying her down in her crib I decided to check my email real quick before going to sleep myself. Then I heard a loud screaming sound in the distance, behind our house. It got closer and closer and then it got quiet. Suddenly I heard it again, but even louder and it sounded like it was right in our backyard. I had remembered what a panther scream sounded like as I heard one on our family’s homestead when I was a little girl, and I thought that was what I was hearing now. I quickly got up and woke grandma telling her there was a panther in our backyard.

“It isn’t a panther, go back to bed,” she said. Just then it screamed again.

“Call the police,” Grandpa hollered at me from his room.

“No, don’t call them, they’re only going to laugh at you and think you’re crazy,” Grandma said with a laugh.

“Well, what do I do then?”

“Go back to bed. You can’t do anything, its outside.” It screamed again outside, but a little further away.

“That isn’t a panther,” Grandma claimed.

“It sounds like it.” I peer through the window blinds, trying to catch a glimpse of this creature.

“It’s that red fox calling for its mate.” She rolls back over, pulling the covers back up to her neck.

I walk out of her room, pulling the door quietly behind me. “Did you hear that thing grandpa?” I ask, peaking into his room.

“Yeah, I did.”

“What do you make of it?”

“I don’t know.”

I went back to the computer and quickly searched the internet for sounds a red fox makes and sounds a panther makes and I found both; they sound so much alike. I understood how I got confused.

I laugh at those little foxes as they play on the hillside behind our house, thinking back to the first time I heard them. I will always remember that night and I think grandma will to. She always has me tell this story to others when they visit. I enjoy sharing the memories I’ve had with my grandpa. This month it’ll be two years since we’ve lost him. It still seems like it was yesterday. Today we laid my Uncle to rest. I’m sure the both of them are together now, telling good stories like old times.