A Random Image

Jett Superior laid this on you on || July 18, 2003 || 11:50 pm

Hey, remember these little cats?



::click images to enlarge::

The dashing young lad is Jake, and his charming companion is his little sister, Gianna. They were the youngest sponsors in the history of the Blogathon (ages eight and two, respectively) last year, and the same will probably ring true this year. I noticed this week that they’re back on board again, which means that Jakers is probably watching the buildup to the ‘thon. From what I understand, he had a pretty fine time surfing the ring until he absolutely passed out last year. We even spoke via AIM for a short bit. He is a very engaging little fellow, and quite the Romeo, according to his mother. Apparently there was some mention of me taking him on as my boyfriend one day.

I was pushing pretty hard last year for at least five-hundred dollars in sponsorships for my charity, The Tourette Syndrome Association, Inc. When Jake’s mom e-mailed me with his contribution and the backstory, all I could do was take a deep breath and let the tears roll. An excerpt from last year’s ‘thon post about it:

I just got a messaged on AIM by the mother of an 8-year-old little boy named Jake. It seems that she and Jake are following the ‘thon, and she explained to him that there are some kids will illnesses that just can’t be fixed with antibiotics or a band-aid. She told him that things like the Blogathon are necessary, because money must be raised to combat illnesses and disorders, to find cures for them, to enlighten the public.

I am still crying as I write this, because Jake went into his room, hauled his piggy bank out, counted his money, and then insisted that a pledge be made in his and his 2-year-old sister’s (Gianna….lovely) names. When his mother told him that she would add two dollars to his twenty-eight to make it an even thirty, Jake said “No way”, intent on doing it himself.

He also added that his mom should send word to me: “Tell her son that we have a cool river behind our house…he can come fishing with me sometime.”

Sounds like there may be hope for the future running around out there.

My own son, now eleven, has Tourette Syndrome. We have a whole lotta good days in comparison to many, but the bad days are really bad, like being underwater and not knowing when you’ll be allowed to come up for breath. You just hold on, lungs burning, and hold on some more. The TSA does some really great work in the fields of neurological research and in educating the masses about this shifting, perplexing disorder.

It was a difficult thing for me to write about my son’s experiences for the first time in May of 2002: How much is too much? How little is not enough? How do I frame up our experiences –his experiences– in a way that won’t evoke pity, or horror (the wrong kind of horror, anyway…), or disgust? How do I tell this great big thing in an honest but ungrody way? Well, I started with permission from my kid. Then I just scribbled, hesitant and furiously in turns, until it felt finished. The remarkable thing to me about that piece was that it was the first time in ages that I’d picked up a pencil instead of a pen to write with. That’s how unsure of my subject matter that I was, but it was symbolic of something else, as well: When I was just learning, just coming to grips with the idea of communicating via written word, when I was learning the shapes and forms and sounds of the letters and how to seat them together comfortably alongside one another in order to convey meaning and ideas, it was with a pencil.

So, in a larger sense, the fact that I not-too-consciously grabbed up the lead again when writing about this thing with my beloved firstborn, the boy I read to every night while he was in utero, the boy who held his head up on his own, wide-blinking and blind-watching, within the first few minutes after he made it here into The Real, the boy whose spark still causes people to stop us in public so that they can comment to me on how he seems somehow magic, well….it doesn’t seem so odd. I was, once again, just coming to grips, learning shapes and forms and sounds, learning to comfortably seat things together alongside one another in my brain so as to ascertain meaning (in?) and ideas.

My goal this year is one-thousand dollars for the TSA coffers. I’m about halfway there as I type this. I’d really be obliged if you could (and would) help that along.


Won’t you sponsor me?

4 worked it out »

  1. Jett 7.19.2003


    The crickets are deafening.

    Where’ melly and all her clownsex talk when you need her??

  2. Jett 7.19.2003

    ehh, that should be ‘Where’S’ upair.

    kay then.

  3. kalee 7.20.2003

    Heya grrl…

    Looking forward to watching the show again this year. Kids are tucked in tight at the moment…but will see this entry tommorow. No doubt Jake will try to talk ya into using a ‘cooler’ picture…after all, he’s all about ‘cool’ right now.

    : )

  4. Jett 7.20.2003

    kalee…you should show jakers the front page of the blogathon site. He’s there loud and proud.

    And by the links from a couple other sites, they think he’s pretty nifty, as well. whee!


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