Manual Dance for the Rain

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Many Native Americans still perform the ritual today, and it can be seen on several reservations in the United States. Men and women gathered together for a rain dance and wore special headdresses and clothing. The jewels used in the clothing, such as turquoise, had special significance, as well as the patterns on the clothing and the use of goat hair in the headdresses. These special clothes were worn every year for the rain dance, and usually were stored the entire year for this purpose. The steps of the rain dance itself are quite intricate, and unlike circle dances, which are seen in many Native American ceremonies, the men and women stood in separate lines and made zigzagging patterns.

It is significant that, while many Native American rituals involved only men, or at least, were more concerned with their influence, the rain dance involved both men and women, showing the importance of rain to the entire community.

This rain dance was meant to bring rain for the entire year or for a specific season. The rain dance was more common to Native American tribes who lived in dry, Southwestern regions which received little rain. The Pueblos, for instance, have a particularly intricate rain dance, since the little rain they do receive is essential for survival. Thank you for giving me the gift of present awareness, and helping me learn how to by-pass the what ifs so I can follow you directly to mindfulness and gratitude.

Monday, November 19, Please Mind the Gap. As a parent to a child with autism and intellectual disabilities, in many ways I am still living in those toddler years. A constant state of motion and emotion. My year-old is not capable of using reason when making decisions, and has no impulse control. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

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The games we play are the same games a toddler enjoys. When I observe what typical kids his age are able to do, there are moments my heart hurts so much, it feels like physical pain. When Matty was in elementary school, watching his classmates effortlessly use a pencil to write their names or even speak clearly could bring me to tears.

I so desperately wanted these things for Matty, too. I witnessed as the gap became wider between Matty and his peers. At back to school night in third grade, parents took out their child's journals to read some of what they had written so far. The moms and dads on either side of us began reading and smiling and laughing.

Matthew's notebook had blank pages. My tears were held back till we made it to the car. Matty doesn't write with a pencil. He writes on a keyboard with prompting. The gap grew wider still. Today, he is the same age as some of his incredible camp volunteers. They are preparing for a future of independence.

The gap is widening. Matty has learned a lot since he first dumped the Cheerios. Just stay home from work, like Papa does, and take a nap.

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Parenting a year-old who has retained some of his toddler tendencies does have some benefits:. He still fits on my lap. Amy McCoy is the author of Little Big Sister, an elementary school novel told from the sibling's perspective of what life is like to grow up with an older brother who has autism. Anyone who has used a self-checkout lane knows that there is a specific technique to the process. If you put your item in the bagging area too quickly after scanning it, you will be scolded by the computer.

The self-checkout lane with Matty as my shopping assistant depletes my daily allotment of patience in about 30 seconds. I get it, computer.

The Day I Stopped Talking About Dancing in the Rain and Actually Danced In It

I know all about unexpected. I have a long list of unexpected. We are standing in the self-checkout lane of life. Navigating unexpected conditions.

Lyrics containing the term: rain dance

Being told that help is on the way. How to ask for it. Then I see Matty jumping up and down, flapping with excitement. The self-checkout employee was walking toward us. Help was on the way reason for the flapping. For now. Help is on the way. But Matty, somehow finds the help he needs. He makes his own way.

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He finds the most incredible teachers, aides, therapists, babysitters, camp counselors, friends, grocery store employees — the angels in his life. They enter his life and help him from point A to point B. By the end of the self-checkout lane experience last Sunday, Matty had Kevin bagging the groceries with him.


But Matty made that happen. In our life full of unexpected situations, I have to remind myself, Matty will always find the help he needs. Thank you, Kevin! Monday, April 2, World Autism Day Autism - showed up like a punishment, a heartbreak. Autism - has meant years of midnight Google searches - seeking answers while discovering more questions. Autism - has meant learning odd terms like "disregulation" and "perseveration" and "assistive technology" - and how these words relate to Matthew.

Autism - means having hope - advocating for better and more specialized services at school, becoming Matthew's best advocate. Autism - means gratitude for the teachers and specialists in Matthew's life who have taught me to understand my own son in new ways. Autism - means finding joy in the little things in life while viewing the world through Matthew's twinkling eyes and bright smile. Autism - The word that now makes me proud. I am proud to be an Autism Mom.

Proud of Matthew for the progress he is making. Proud of myself for never giving up on him. Even on the most challenging days. It's Autism. It's fear, it's sleep-deprivation, it's heartbreaking, it's confusing - but it's also hope, love, bright smiles and our life. Matty - waiting his turn for monthly bloodwork to make sure his seizure medication is working properly. Epilepsy wears a poker face.

  2. Purgatory.
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  5. Epilepsy wants to keep me in the dark. I already know Who Matthew and What Seizures. I somewhat know The Why. But The When and The Where.

    Leo The Lion - Dance For The Rain (Original Mix)

    I need to know. When will he have his next seizure? Where will he be? The further we move from the last seizure - the more days, weeks, and months that pass; the more I believe we are in the clear. The distance from the last seizure strengthens my hope that the seizures are not coming back, that they are finished and part of the past. That we have found the right medication.

    That we can close the door on epilepsy. Epilepsy pushed the door wide open this weekend. Two days ago, Matthew experienced a grand mal seizure. This was after 14 months of remaining seizure free. Feigning my own bravery and calm, I put on my poker face as I helplessly watched his body shake uncontrollably as he lost consciousness, and heard the odd guttural sounds coming from his throat.