Is this what you do all day?

So Long Sister...

2009-05-19T19:58:00.002-04:00

My son has this whole other life that I don't know much about. Sometimes I feel like he just lives with us. Is that weird to say? I love him fiercely, but I wish I could get inside his head and really know what goes on in there. I would also love to be able to follow him to school un noticed by anyone and see what he is like without me.

A few weeks ago we were on a play date, one of the only play dates we had all year. It was with a girl in his class. My son tends to gravitate to the girls. They give him structure, which is a nice way of saying that they boss him around. So we were at this girl's house and her mom says to me, 'You have other children, right?'. To which I replied, 'no, he is it'. She looked confused. She said that she thought that I had two older kids which didn't live with me, from another marriage.

Why would she think that? Hmmm. Maybe it's because my son told her daughter that he had two older sisters that did not live with him. I had not heard him tell me this before, but I did know who he was referring to. There is a girl across the street, Ava who is seven, and a girl next door, Alyssa who is eleven. They would occasionally play with bubs, and we had a snow day a few months back in which they all frolicked and made snow angels in my yard. It must have had some impact on my guy. He would talk about Alyssa all the time, he said he loved her, that she was beautiful, and on and on. While I thought it was cute, I also thought he was perseverating a bit and of course it had my autism radar on overdrive. He would make her pictures, and ask to play with her all the time. I don't think she knew the impact she had on bubs.

The other day Ava was playing with bubs in the park. He asked her if they could go and get Alyssa. Ava informed us ever so bluntly that Alyssa moved away to Georgia. Talk about no closure, I didn't even know she was planning on moving, let alone packed up and gone. Bubs was devastated. He wanted to know if she was coming back. I tried not to make too much of a big deal about it, but he was still talking about it last night. Poor guy.

He still plays with Ava. I think she secretly hates us though. She doesn't have the bestest of home life, and it must seem like a big par-tay here. Endless spaghetti o's and chocolate chip cookies here, tv on all the time, trampoline, toys and such, all with a mom to cater to every one's every need. Yep, that' s me all right. There really aren't that many kids on the block for my son to play with. I think Ava feels the same way, so she kind of tolerates us. It's probably not the healthiest of friendships, but it will have to do for now.

A twist of lyme.

2009-05-16T23:07:00.003-04:00

This has been a crappy week. Literally. On Tuesday morning, the school nurse called and told me my bubs was vomiting. I had sent him off skipping and happy that day and an hour later, all hell had broken loose. I ran to school as fast as I could and retrieved my sick boy. They sent us home with a giant garbage pail, which would later prove to be indispensable.
Usually with the pukes, you have an intense 24 hour period of hell, to be followed by the calm after the storm. This particular bug offered us no such reprieve, although it wasn't quite as intense. What it lacked in intensity, it more than made up for with endurance. This was an endless week, filled with bleach, lots of laundry, more body fluids than I care to discuss and lots of TV.
Bubs was not his usual perky self, but I must say that he was an excellent sick person. He made sure to vomit in the said school garbage pail or toilet every single time. I was very proud of his aim. When the big D hit us, he wasn't as precise. I can forgive him though.
I was very happy when Friday finally rolled around and we didn't wake up at five a.m. to vomit, as all the previous days before us. It seemed like this dark cloud of funk that descended upon us was going to lift.
Little did I know what excitement lay around the corner for us.
My husband took bubs to visit his uncle last night. My husband's uncle, although that isn't really relevant to the story. Bubs loves it there, they have woods and a lake. My husband got a huge net with which to catch fish. Bubs had a great time, he called to tell me he caught four fish with his net, and his bread. He was so proud. I was so happy he was having a great time, and out of the house.
When my husband came home with him later that night, bubs was out cold. So we put him to bed. H told me that bubs got a splinter in his thumb but he didn't get a chance to get it out. I said that we should give him a tub in the morning and maybe the soaking in the water would dislodge it without us having to go through the hell of attempting to tweeze it out. My son is kind of crazy with any kind of 'removing' of things from his body. Thank God his toenails don't grow very much. I think it warrants it's own post, and I remember writing about my son wanting the 'potatoes' I cleaned out of his ears back .
Anyhoo, this morning, my H was giving bubs the bath. I hear him say 'Oh NO'. That is never a good sign. Never.
I ask of course, 'what is the matter' and then I hear screaming from my son. My H informs me that he has found a tick on my son's head. From now on, in my world, the word 'tick' will illicit a response that requires an immediate ingestion of xanax.
At that point, you have three hysterical people. All screaming at once. My H instructs me to call up his uncle and find out about tick removal. It must be said, that at 42, I am not an outdoor type of person. I have never come in contact with a tick, I have never had the opportunity to come in contact with a tick. In my husband's family, they are all well versed in all aspects of 'tickology'. H's sister also called at the same time. She said to smother it with Vaseline. H's uncle said not to do that, it would take too long for it to die. It would have to be removed with a tweezers.
I sterilized the tweezer and then stabilized my poor screaming son's head. This took longer than you could imagine. More screaming, from all of us. Naked wet son is out of the tub now. My H managed to extract the evil tick from my son's scalp. It looked like we got the whole thing. Apparently one must grab the head, or the 'snout' as my H called it. Ewwwwwww.
We then had to check my poor child for more. He was terrified at this point, and it was probably due to the behavior that my H and I exhibited, more than anything. We washed his hair again and combed it. The stupid tick was still alive. My H grabbed an empty diet coke bottle from the recycling bin and put it in there.

Once the semblance of order was restored I took bubs and the coke bottle with the little terrorist (who was now dead and floating in a solution of rubbing alcohol)to the pediatrician. We told him the doctor needed to see the tick and check him out. My son announced to the nurse when she called his name 'I am not here to see the doctor, the tick is going to see the doctor'. Of course, only I knew what the hell he was talking about.

The tick is being sent out to a lab. The doctor is pretty sure it's just a dog tick and we should all survive. Now I can go back to just worrying about swine flu.

It's not easy being me...

2009-05-05T21:34:00.003-04:00

Back when I was single and I had time to read self help books, I remember reading one that oprah recommended called 'Simple Abundance'. I liked it, and I often wonder what I was so miserable about in my thirties that I felt the need to improve upon myself. Hey, at least I am 'co dependent no more', how many people can actually say that.
I don't remember much about that book except for the concept of a gratitude journal. The idea is to list five things that you were thankful for in a little journal at the end of the day. I found it really helpful when I needed to keep my young ,single ,much smaller dress size ,chin up. I think I need to start doing it again. I am not really seeing the forest for the trees these days.

This school situation has really got me down. We had annuals last week and while we decided not to keep bubs back in kindergarten, I am not entirely thrilled with the overall outcome. I just got a very dismal speech eval home today. I guess I spent the last three years of bubs' life on high alert. It was a constant state of involvement, of information, of keeping me in the loop. While I didn't have a whole lot of control, I felt like I did. That is important to me. The illusion of control can serve in a pinch when the actual control is not available.
I don't like getting these bombs sporadically and when I least expect it. This latest eval included some kind of observational report that the teacher fills out. It's a 'sometimes, often, always' kind of thing. Apparently my son 'always' has trouble asking questions, understanding questions, asking for help, answering questions, forming sentences, yada yada ad infinitum'. Seriously, my son has never answered a question all year? He has never formed a meaningful sentence all year? Maybe he is saving them all up for when he gets home, because honestly my child makes his points known and if you don't acknowledge that you have heard and understood, he will keep asking.
She also said my son 'always has trouble asking for help'. I just cannot imagine what happens after I put my son on the bus in the morning. Does the bus driver pass through some magic force field where in my son loses all ability to speak? Does he slip into a vegetative coma, only to return upon safe delivery at my door? It's a very interesting phenomenon.
And another thing, while I am ranting. Why, oh why am I just finding out about this situation? It's May for God's sake. May. If I were the teacher, I would be embarrassed to send that home. I always felt, even as a humble art teacher that a child's success hinged on me being able to teach them. If they failed, then I failed.
I have been a nice mom this year, I have been non confrontational, almost self depreciating and very very understanding. I am leaving that persona in the dust. I am now the terminator. I am now kicking butt and taking names. I don't know what I am going to do or ask for, but the tide has changed.

Oh yeah, back to gratitude. I have many many things to be thankful for.
I am thankful that I have my wild child boy who never stops talking and always makes his point known to me. I am thankful he asks me for help and saves up all of his meaningful stories for me.
I am thankful that my husband loves me. He might not always understand the inner workings of my tormented mind, but he accepts me for who I am. He is a good egg.
I am thankful that I have my house, we have food in the cabinets, and we have our health. We are a lucky little family
I am thankful for all the amazing people that this journey has sent our way. I wouldn't wish the stress and worry that autism has caused us, but there have been many gifts that I wouldn't have received without it.
Little things are big things.

I am all over the place here. I know.

April is Autism Awareness Month.

2009-04-17T08:45:00.003-04:00

Ok, I am going to be whiny and self indulgent right now. I have been holding it in and it just needs to come out. I am sorry in advance.
I am tired of autism. I wish it would go away, I thought it was going away, but it's not. It lurks in the corners and pops out for a sucker punch when I least expect it. But again, it's my own dumb fault for not even seeing you there in the first place. Where the hell else would you be?
It's a lesson I need to learn over and over and over again. I think I am accepting of you, but I am not. I am pretending you are not there. That is not accepting.
It sucks. I hate this process. I hate what I am doing to myself. I hate that I feel this way.

Sometimes I feel like my son is an alien to me. I feel like I am a crappy mother because of that. He is struggling in school, but I can't get a clear picture of what is making it hard, where is the problem? I want to fix it, but I am not sure I can. Why is he so angry? Is it a reflection of my anger? Why am I so angry? We don't have it that bad at all. I know this to be true, yet I am still complaining.

I used to think he was flying under the radar. I used to think we were 'fooling people'. You know, who do we really need to fool anymore? Does it matter? Can't you just be who you are? These are the questions I am asking myself right now. Does it involve telling everyone you know that your child is 'on the spectrum'? Is it really anyone and every one's business? Does it make things any easier? Or more complicated because then your son becomes a subset of behaviors, generalizations and stereotypes. Instead of five year old boy. I just want him to be who he is, but with out all the difficulty. I cannot figure out h0w to extract all of that.

Yea, I sound crazy right now. It's report card time, and annual review. I am really torn about what to do. So, this crazy ranting right now, I just have to do it.

Task Avoidance

2009-04-14T20:50:00.003-04:00

I am so very tired of stressing about bubs and school. It sucks and if I start in with the worrying, it just spirals out of control and it robs me of any grace that I might have left. SO I am not going to write about that today.
My husband and I are very opposite in many ways. I think in the big deal kind of things we are very similar, but as far as what constitutes a 'fun day' we are polar opposites. We are trying to meet somewhere in the middle as far as that goes. I think the problem with me is that I really don't have any idea of what exactly is fun to me.
We were talking about our 'bucket lists' and we actually found something that we both wanted to do! I had mentioned that I would love to get an old airstream trailer and pimp it out cozy style. I thought it would be such a cool way to travel. Now it must be said that the word 'camping' makes me itch and I will probably never experience sleeping in a tent under the stars (not unless I am forced to at gunpoint), but the idea of traversing this great big country in a cool little aluminum pod complete with it's own bathroom, and stocked with snacks and books, and other comforts of home, kind of appeals to me.
My husband loves adventure and to travel and see and do new things. I feel bad for him that he is married to me because just thinking of any of those things makes me want a pharmaceutical. But again, I am trying. So he was very happy to hear that I wanted one of these cute little things. I was happy he was happy.
We talk about it and haven't quite yet bogged down our happy thoughts with logistics. We are making a big trip this summer so all of our funds right now are earmarked for that. We had planned to renovate our tiny minuscule tiny impractical, can you say 8"of counter space, kitchen next summer. It really needs to be done, I guess. But I was thinking about our little dream and how cool it would be to give bubs that experience. I was also wondering how much longer we would have him as a captive audience before he wouldn't ever want to travel cross country in a little pod with his mother and father. My husband was thinking the same thing. So we think we are going to scrap the kitchen plans for now and put our quarters in the jar with a picture of an airstream trailer on it.
It's nice to have dreams. It's nice to think about something fun.

Sick day

2009-04-10T10:34:00.005-04:00

Is it possible to worry yourself sick, literally? Because I think I have done it. Monday night I took bubs to the premiere germ pit of the century, the mickey d's play yard. I really have to stop going there, for more than one reason.
I have been stressing big time about the upcoming annual review meeting scheduled for April 27th. I am no closer to deciding bubs' placement than I was two weeks ago, only this time, I have a killer headache, body aches, a stuffy nose and a gravelly nasty cough. I remember one time in college, I do believe I came down with a raging case of chicken pox due to some major issues with procrastination and an upcoming winter break. It was new year's eve that I discovered the first spot, and let me tell you, it was an absolute mess by new years day. I had chicken pox in places you couldn't believe.
So yesterday,I dragged myself to the doctor thinking at the very least they would give me an x ray and some antibiotics, possibly a trip to the hospital for an oxygen treatment and an iv drip. No? I am a recovering hypochondriac as well. Imagine my complete utter shock when she told me it looked like a rhino virus and she told me to take some claritin d. Are you kidding me? That's up there with the normal thyroid test results I got two years ago.
It couldn't have happened at a worse time, although it's never a good time to get sick. Bubs is off from school this week. He is ok for the most part keeping himself busy, but it involves spending the day in his underwear (which are on backwards at the moment), watching videos that are suitable for three year olds (Barney Halloween anyone?) and eating massive quantities of carbohydrates, although I don't think popcorn for breakfast is so horrible. I feel bad, but sometimes the circus passes through your town without you seeing it, you know? I guess it's not the worst thing in the world if my son's day doesn't consist of a parade extravaganza of constant amusement.
My wonderful husband (and I am not being sarcastic this time!) stayed home from work yesterday so that I could go to the doctor and rest. He occupied bubs the entire day, and spent some much needed quality time with him. They even came home with flowers and a scratch off lottery ticket for me. I felt loved, that was nice.

In an effort not to let my blog fall by the wayside, I am making an effort to write as much as possible. Sorry for the rambling, it might be the remnants of last nights nyquil.

Uncovering some truths...

2009-04-06T13:37:00.002-04:00

I think I have been resistant to writing lately because I didn't want to think about things. I think I indulged myself a wee bit too much in the rivers of denial. I tend to obsess about things, it's unhealthy, but I also think not thinking about things is not too great either. I have been making up for lost time, thinking overtime. Stressing overtime, eating too much, not exercising, not taking care of things- I am making a concerted effort to dig myself out of this hole.

We have bubs' annual in a few weeks. Some tough choices need to be made concerning his placement next year. He has made tremendous growth socially, which is just the best thing ever as far as I am concerned. Academically is a whole other ballgame. He is really inconsistent when it comes to being able to focus and attend. I hate to sound annoying but I am not impressed with his teachers when it comes to dealing with his behaviors. They seem to be putting an awful lot of the responsibility on my son. Granted it is inclusion, but he has a freakin i.e.p. I hesitate to go down this road, me being a teacher and all. It sounds all very 'blamey' and I don't want to be that way. I have begged for a functional behavioral assessment, but they have told me (they being the teacher, the psychologist and the ever illusive autism consultant) feel that he is so inconsistent in his behaviors that it's something internal not external. I have come to realize that this is what it's going to be like in district. I need to accept that a team of people are not going to closely watch every move my son makes and record it on a clipboard and then review it at a team meeting.

I have talked to so many people, gotten really great advice and guidance, but it doesn't change much. We have to figure out where bubs will do best next year. My crystal ball is broken, but the thing never worked all that well anyway.

We have two choices. One is to have him repeat kindergarten, with the inclusion class. The other is to send him to the first grade inclusion class. He is not really doing all that great academically. His teachers feel it's an immaturity issue and he hasn't had enough time to function as an independent learner. I agree with that, I do. But I am not sure what the hell they have been doing with him all along. I don't get enough info and while I understand, at the same time I am having a hard time wrapping my head around it. So retention might help. It also might not. Especially if the teachers aren't going to change anything about what they are doing. I always felt as a teacher that if a child wasn't learning, then I was doing something wrong. I am not getting that philosophy from these teachers.

The second choice, to send him up to first grade doesn't really jazz me all that much either. I don't know if bubs will be able to handle the increasing academic demands, especially with less than stellar support in place. I am worried he won't want to go to school and he'll feel bad about himself. Right now he seems to enjoy it. But I am sad that he won't be able to follow the friends he has made and I wonder what he will think of the fact that he stayed in kindergarten. He might not give a crap, it could be all me. I don't want to discuss it with him yet.

So there is my dilemma. I am really trying to go over the pros and cons of it. I keep hoping the answer will knock on my door and show it self to me. I have been letting this be the only thing I will allow myself to think about. I need to start thinking about other things. Like my health, my bills and maybe a little fun with the family.

You know, in the big picture, this is small potatoes. I know it. My son is happy, he can talk, he has friends, we have a great quality of life. The school stuff, it will be ok. I know it. It's this lack of control that really is getting me.

What I am reading

2009-04-03T19:11:00.003-04:00

When I used to teach high school back in the day, there were always a few select kids who were manga fanatics. I never understood the appeal, although I didn't look down on it as an art form. I personally found it bizarre and highly stylized. It was often difficult to get said students to draw anything other than these cartoon drawings with gigantic eyes.

Flash forward a some fifteen years later, and I find myself actually reading something manga, and being very moved by it. Of course it's probably the subject matter, which is autism, which draws me to it.

With the Light by Keiko Tobe is a series of graphic novels about raising a child with autism. It is a first hand account as far as I know, and I find it to be really amazingly good. It's definitely a newfangled way of reading for me, you start at the 'end' of the book and read from right to left, but I seem to be managing. It's a really different way of delving into a subject.

I am reading volume two only because borders books didn't have any of the others. It's about a family in Japan, with two children. The older son has autism and they have a younger daughter as well. I am up to the part where he is in elementary school. I have to say, for a comic book type setup, it's spot on in it's depiction of what it's like. I find myself on the verge of tears while reading, thinking 'yes, that's it!'. I like that kind of feeling.

I have blogging on the brain, and I wanted to share.

I think I've overslept.

2009-04-03T09:31:00.003-04:00

That's how it feels. You know that frantic feeling you get after you wake up late, and realize that no, it's not Saturday.
Where have I been? I guess it's been hard to organize the frantic ramblings going on inside my brain as of late. I kind of lost my blogging zip due in no small part to my love affair with facebook. Add that to the fact that I suddenly realized there is no such thing as anonymity in this world, even with a silly name, and I kind of lost my taste for spilling my guts. I am sorry blogger, I abandoned you, but I am back and this time I promise I'll be good. I might be a little more anonymous this time around, I hope someone still reads this. I need contact, praise, reinforcement. I am needy.

We are still here, things have been moving along, some days are blissful, some days are stressful. I always feel like one blissful day is payback for two stressful ones. But that is my twisted sense of order, one must worry in order to insure that things work out OK in the end.

So I will continue to ramble on about my obsessions, and vent to cyberspace. I missed blogging, I missed sorting it all out. My husband asked me last night whatever happened to my blog and it got me thinking about it. So, here I am. Again.

Happy Holidays

2008-12-24T09:53:00.002-05:00

That's it, no complaints, no insane stories of being verbally abused by psychotic men in parking lots, no holiday sadz, just a plain and simple happy holiday!

Have a wonderful time with your families, enjoy the time together!

Yeah, whatever....

2008-12-18T19:55:00.006-05:00

I have been struggling with Christmas this year. I think me being an anxious type person, I have always kind of struggled with it. Don't get me wrong, my memories are happy. I come from a big Italian family and we had lots of wonderful times together. I think though as a kid, I recognized the planning involved and the sadness of it being over. As I get older, I really try to enjoy it, but it just seems to remind me of the passage of time, and in my attempts to relish each moment, I am reminded that we are all getting older and things are constantly moving forward, for better or for worse. Wow, that's really cheery and uplifting, isn't it? I am sorry. This is a very pathetic post. There are bright spots though. Watching my son get excited about Santa is really wonderful and I am very thankful for that. Very.

That said, today I decided I was done with Christmas shopping. I am sorry if there is any body who doesn't have a present. I am just not stepping foot into a store for a long time, well, actually it's the parking lot that I am going to avoid.

Today I ventured out to Toys R Us in search of the Indiana Jones Mr. Potatohead that my sweet nephew put on his list. Of course they did not have it. Why should they? Why should any store have what I need at this point. So I leave and walk to my car. As I get closer to my car, I see a guy roll his cart directly in front of the back end of my car. Look, I don't care if you go the extra mile and actually put your cart in the corral designed for them. I don't even expect that much out of humanity at this point. But for God's sake, wheel it out of the way, it takes just as much time. Well the guy goes back to his car, which is two cars away from mine, and is getting into it. I said to him 'why did you move your cart right in front of my car?'. It wasn't mean, or nasty, just direct. I really am not a confrontational person, I think I have stated that before. I just am direct.

Well, you would have thought I said 'Your momma wears combat boots' or something far worse because the guy went ballistic. Every curse word you ever wanted to hear came out of him. So I said 'Merry Christmas' and went into my car. He didn't stop. He then honked his car horn (repeatedly), rolled down his window and said 'why didn't you park further away you fat f*ck'-you need the exercise'. Really. I mean, you did not just say that to me? Over a shopping cart. He then rolled up his window and gave me the finger. Shocked. I was shocked. Then I was a little scared. He didn't pull out right away. I was afraid he was waiting for me. I quickly pulled out and went the other direction.

So then, I had to go to the supermarket. My husband had called me while I was there, as I started to tell him this story, I started to cry. I don't even know what people were thinking of me as I am telling my husband that someone called me a 'fat f*ck' with the ugly face crying happening. Ugh. I just don't know what the heck is the matter with some people. How angry can you be? Has life been that bad to you?

So I went home and ordered the damn potatohead on amazon. Thank you internet. I am never leaving my house again.

On Facebook...

2008-11-26T09:44:00.004-05:00

I haven't been around much here lately. My site meter stats are sad. I was sucked into the vortex of total time waste that is facebook.

To be honest, about a month ago, I really didn't know what it was. I never caught on to the myspace craze either. I felt a little too 'long in the tooth' for that. One night I went out to dinner with some friends and they were talking about it, and a picture that one of my friends had posted of himself. I wanted to see the picture. So I signed up.

It was overwhelming at first. Also, seeing all the pictures of people I went to high school almost 25 years later was kind of frightening. It brought back lots of uncomfortable memories. I know it might be hard to believe, but I wasn't exactly popular. I also felt like I was coming down with early onset Alzheimer's due to the fact that I vaguely remembered half the people on there that I supposedly graduated with. The names were kind of familiar but the faces, no. It was strange.

Then I started a farm. I really don't need to start a farm. There are much better things I could be doing with my time. I get terribly caught up in things like that. I have a self imposed ban on all Sims games. I must not be allowed anywhere near a computer with that installed on it. You would not see me for a few days and I would emerge from a binge with a large red diamond spinning atop my head. Back in the day before any real responsibilities, I would come home from work and start playing that game, only to realize that I hadn't eaten dinner and it was now four in the morning and I would be getting ready for work in a couple of hours. I can't say I love that game, it really had some kind of sick power over me. I am veering off topic. I guess my point is that I have to watch myself with computer games.

It's all in the applications. Super Poke me, pass me a drink, throw me a snowball, help save the rain forest. How old am I again? Well, lol, roflmao, and all that other good stuff. Care to take a quiz? What, laundry? Later for that. Dinner? Have some cereal. I have to pick my virtual strawberries before they rot.

I think that I feel most depraved and voyeuristic when I am looking up other people's friends. Really bon, don't you have better things to do with your time? Isn't Dog the Bounty Hunter on? Sometimes though, you can find out some really interesting things. One of my facebook friends, has a friend on her page who, well, I can't really say what it is about her, other than she is not operating on the same system as I am. I have seen her 'in real life' dressed up in clothes that I have only seen in magazines, with makeup on that rivals boy george. So I took a peek into her world and dare I say I am really jealous of her assortment of friends. My proud little box of 27 friends pales in comparison to her pages and pages of semi famous faces. Some of them I didn't even know were people. I guess I always figured that Christian Loboutin (or however you spell his name) was just a figurehead for a bunch of shoe snobs who came up with the brilliant idea of red soles on really pricey pointy shoes. I didn't imagine he could possibly be a mere facebook account having mortal. There were more too, I think a few magazines, and Lindsey Lohan's girlfriend.

I could go on and on about this. Don't even get me started on the instant messaging feature. It's a little too stalkerish for me. There must be a way to not announce to your 27 friends that you are indeed wasting time on facebook. This prompts another time waster to contact you and waste even more time.

I don't know if I have any readers left. Probably after this post I won't for sure.

I think my son is a republican...

2008-11-09T21:54:00.002-05:00

My friend Leslie had an Obama victory party today. I took bubs with me as my date, since my husband had to work. When we got to her house, I explained to him that we were going to celebrate our new president Barak Obama. I took him with me to vote, so we have discussed this before, and I know they talk about it in school. I didn't know to what extent, but I believe I do now.
After I told him about the cause for our party, he informed me that he no longer liked Barak Obama. He said, and I quote:

"Me and Zachary, we don't like Barak Obama".
"Why not? Said I.
"Because he is going to take away all my money and my toys". (I should add that he was really concerned about this!)
"Not all of them, I said, just 20%"- Ok, I didn't really say that. I don't remember what pearls of wisdom I offered up.(For the record, I did vote for Obama)

I was stunned on many levels. Stunned to know that my boy is discussing politics with a 2nd grader on the bus. Stunned at his ability to recall. Stunned that he seemed to sum up what my father has been trying to drill into me during the whole election, and probably stunned that he is able to have that kind of conversation with me, and stunned that I could have given birth to a conservative republican. I really do take it for granted that he is paying attention to what people say. That's scary- I better watch what I say around him.

It has been a tough week for me, I really appreciated this little conversation with my sweet son today.

Who's that knockin on my door????

2008-11-07T15:55:00.003-05:00

It seems as if our past has not left us. I knew we were never safe from the old issues that haunt us, they are a part of us, the thread of our being. I guess you never are prepared for a slap in the face though, right?
Well, I can't be so sensitive. I tell myself that over and over again, but it is also part of my thread.
What's the matter? I got a phone call from the kindergarten teacher today. The phone call I was anxiously awaiting back in September. I was prepared for it back then. I thought since all this time has passed that we were safe. Hah.
The teacher wanted to touch base with me and inform me that my son has been an impulsive hyper fiasco the last three weeks. Those were not her words, and I am not mad at her at all. I know how my son can be and to be honest he has been off for a while. He gets up really early full of crazy unbridled energy. My parents noted it too the other day. We spent the day there and I got a 'boy, he never stops does he'. My father said he had to do a head count to make sure there wasn't more than one child in the room. The teacher said it seems impossible for him to sit still, he must be moving at all times and that it's becoming more and more difficult for him to get his work done. She also said he is up in other kid's faces. Ugh.
I know what she is saying, I also know that the kid has had someone on top of him since he was 18 mo of age. I kind of feared that this new found freedom would backfire. She feels he cannot help it. Me being ingrained with the behaviorist philosophy is not so sure. I think it's a combo of a few things operating. I think there is an adhd component, I think there is an immaturity component. I think there are significant ot/sensory issues that need to be addressed and I think there is the fact that my son is a self-directed control freak. I think he needs to have some support in place and I feared that taking it all away in June would somehow have negative impact on us, I think I am almost surprised it took this long to unfold. The honeymoon is over.

It's hard, it hurts, I feel like I am failing my son. But I also know that it's part of his personality, it's part of what makes him awesome, it's also part of what makes it hard for him. Is it spectrum? Is it adhd? Who the hell knows anymore. I just think it's time to take a step back and put some of the old things in place that helped. I suggested a token economy stat. Nothing whips my boy back into shape better than a little index card full of smiley faces with the promise of a treasure box. So she is going to do that on Monday. I also think some o.t. is in order. I would also like a social skills class to work on 'proximity issues'. Should I start writing a list to Santa? Here is where I slip into advocate mom mode. I will tap into my inner pit bull (in between crying).

It makes me so sad/anxious/horrified to think about my son not being able to function in his classroom. I don't want the kids not to like him. I was really worried about this and it seemed like as soon as I was able to relax a little bit, it busted open the door without a warning. I guess I needed to be humbled.

So we will plow on. My husband and I are really going to buckle down on the consistency and structure at home. It's going to be tense, my son is a real ballbuster sometimes and he knows how to play us. We haven't been real great in the past as co parents, we kind of do our own thing, but I think it's time for a united front.

I have thought long and hard about any thing different over the last few weeks, food wise, or otherwise. I can't seem to come up with anything. I pretty much fried my motherboard doing the gfcf biomedical protocol. I am wondering if we are dealing with anything in that realm. Maybe cod liver oil will make it all go away.....

It's beginning to look a lot like christmas...

2008-10-30T09:30:00.003-04:00

My son has graduated from the noggin channel to discovery channel kids. I am so proud... It seems just yesterday we were watching blues clues and oswald, and now, well, now we are enjoying shows such as 'grossology', and 'kenny the shark'. We are also enjoying commercials. This has been my son's first exposure to commercials. I will describe to you what happens now. My son will be sitting on the couch, enjoying his show. A commercial will come on. I watch his profile, the concentration is so endearing to me. Then I see his mouth move, and the words 'I want that, Mom!' are produced. If I don't respond, the cries will get louder..."I want that MOM!!!". I usually just say,' Ok'. I acknowledge the want, yes, but promise nothing. It doesn't matter what the toy is either. My son is not picky. He loves all plastic crap equally, pink and sparkly, or rugged and tough. He saw a lovely cupcake machine that he wanted the other day. It brought back such memories of my betty crocker oven. I even imagined owning it. He wanted a nail polishing machine too, but after the commercial was over, he sadly muttered "I think that's for girls mom". Trying not to gender stereotype, I said 'yes, but you can want it too, that's ok'. Am I lame or what?

I have been trying to turn this into a language arts assignment. Now when he sees something he 'wants' I tell him we can add it to his letter to santa.

Now I don't know who the target audience is for the discovery kids channel is at 7:15 on a weekday morning. I kind of thought it was kids, but maybe it has been learned through rigorous market research that a large portion of the immobile elderly are also tuning in. There were quite a few commercials for the 'scooter'. My son sees this and of course wants it. I told him that it was for old people who couldn't walk. He insisted it wasn't and told me he was putting it on his Christmas list to Santa.

I hope he is not disappointed on Christmas morning.

The do over...

2008-10-23T20:03:00.004-04:00

So sometimes my sweet boy turns into a monster. He can be very demanding, and sound terribly bratty. It comes over him like a sudden storm and leaves just as fast. It really makes me feel like an idiot as far as disciplining him is concerned. I find myself taking a moment in the midst of it all and wanting to just walk away from the confrontation. Sometimes I do that. Sometimes I just feel stupid and inept at this whole parent thing.
Tonight after watching the obligatory video, and putting on the pj's, it was time to brush the teeth. Needing to be independent, and me respecting that need, I let bubs squeeze the toothpaste onto his toothbrush. I think it's also good for his fine motor skills as well. Bubs has some trouble with this, and it's so hard for me to let him do it himself. Tonight I did, and he squeezed out quite a load of toothpaste. I wiped the overage off the counter and some off the brush (fluoride is a neurotoxin, ya know). That didn't sit well with my son the control freak and a mini tantrum ensued. He wanted to 'do it over' and honestly, the lovaas brainwashed part of my brain didn't think that was such a hot idea, even though the lazy part of me was like 'why not'? I wouldn't let him start over. So he screamed, yelled, kicked. Ran in the other room. I told him if he didn't come back to the bathroom and finish up, by the time I counted to three, he wouldn't get a goodnight story. So he didn't come in by three. In fact he counted to ten after I stopped at three. He came in the bathroom eventually but refused to cooperate. Finally I just stuck the toothbrush in his mouth and brushed. Yeah, not my finest mothering moment but I just didn't want to continue with this crap all night.
He got mad. It took another ten or so minutes to just get him up the steps. He came upstairs and was seriously shocked when I told him no story. He was surprised. Then he was truly sad. Real tears sad. Sobbing. Then he went back downstairs. At this point, I am just seriously worn out with this nonsense. That's when planned ignoring comes in handy, but I think once kids catch on to the concept of it, it becomes a colossal time waster, which they love. He comes back up all calm and composed and happy. He tells me, "I listened now. I went and started over. I brushed my teeth again and I listened this time". He was so pleased with him self.
He then put the book in my hand. He also asked me if his 'land before time' computer game was gone forever (I also took that away in the maelstrom of activity). I explained to him that if he didn't listen to me, and yelled and screamed that he would get things taken away. He would have to earn them back. I made him tell me in his own words what that meant. I told him that yelling, kicking, screaming are not ok. I can't tell if he was yessing me just to get me to shut up. I feel that way about all the men in my life lately.
Then I did something that I would have screamed at my husband for. I read him the damn story. I am sure I'll be paying for that move dearly sometime in the near future.

I picked a winner!

2008-10-20T09:05:00.005-04:00

Thank you so much to everyone who entered my first bloggy anniversary giveaway extravaganza. I love reading comments and it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside to know that you guys are out there in cyberspace! I wish I could send you all a present! But this time, I only have one person, but in my book you are all winners!!!!(How's that for schmaltz?)

Drumroll please.......... The winner of the 'prize pack' is none other than ......

Melissa!!!

My next order of business is to email you! See it pays to come out of lurkdom....

I will definitley be planning more giveaways in the future, perhaps a holiday goody?

Love you all!!!!

A heads up...

2008-10-12T17:24:00.003-04:00

It's my first bloggie anniversary on Tuesday and I am gathering some goodies for a giveaway celebration! Stop by then for the deets...

The fruits of my labor...

2008-10-06T19:07:00.006-04:00

So I had my first official table as a vendor last week. I was so excited, I sewed my little heart out. Details were paid attention to, tags were added, pricing was done. It was a ton of work but I truly did enjoy the whole process. The turnout was kind of grim, everyone stayed home to watch Sexy Sarah duke it out with Joe 'I had my eyes done' Biden I guess. That and the fact that our economy has crashed and burned before our eyes. But in spite of that it was fun and I sold some stuff to some people who were really excited about my things. I made the cost of the table back, and a little extra for Panera money and hopefully I helped a good cause (it was for the building of a new school for children with autism).

My mother in law came to help me, it was very nice of her to support me and it was good to have the company on my maiden voyage into craft fairdom.

I still have quite a bit of stuff left. I am going to do an etsy store update tomorrow, that has been neglected for a while. I am also going to do another couple of craft fairs in November.

I am also going to do a bloggy giveaway. I have to check and see when my official 'anniversary' is. I cannot believe a whole year has evolved since I decided to spill my guts on the internetz.

Thanks for looking!!!

eta: October 14th will be giveaway day!!!!

Enquiring minds...

2008-10-04T21:41:00.007-04:00

This kindergarten/real world business is hard for me. Last night bubs' school had something called 'Family fun night', it was like a mini carnival for the kids and it was held in the gym and the cafeteria. Me being in need of control of my surroundings volunteered to work it. It was my first 'pta event'. I feel like I need to get a handle on this school and maybe make some friends. But I find that we are straddling two worlds here, not entirely comfortable in each. We left the autism world in which we were immersed to join the land of the neurotypicals. Not sure how to toggle both.
First off, I was in the gym manning my bean bag station when a little girl came up to take a turn. Her aunt was with her and I could tell she was in kindy. She had a somewhat unusual name, which I will just abbreviate as 's'. So after hearing her name, I asked 's' if she was in bubs' class. She said yes, and I told her that bubs came home with a picture she made him the first week of school and it was beautiful. She proceeded to tell me how annoying my son was. She actually said 'bubs annoys me'. I asked her just what did he do to bother her so much. You know what her answer was? 'He always is saying 'hello' to me and wants to play with me'. She went on and on and on. Ya know we spent the better part of the last 4 or so years trying to get my son to say the word 'hello' and navigate the maze of social interactions involved in getting someone to play with you. It is hard to kind of regulate, and my bubs does need to learn some boundaries and improve his ability to read social cues. I just don't believe he is as horrible as this little princess made him out to be. In all fairness, her aunt was mortified and she did report back to the girls mom who was manning the popcorn station in the cafeteria.
So now I spent the duration of the evening wondering if my son is socially inappropriate. I got transferred out of the gym and moved to a table in the cafeteria. A woman came up to me and asked me if I was bubs' mom and I said yes. It was 's's' mom. She profusely apologized for her daughters remark. I of course told her it was no problem and that she was just voicing her opinion and that my son is super friendly and doesn't always know when to quit.
I must also explain that bubs' is in the inclusion class. Which means that there are 12 'typical' (and I use that term loosely) in the class and 8 classified. I feel like I need an instruction manual on how to deal with this. At some point in the convo with 's's' mom she of course had to ask me where we lived. This is not our neighborhood school. I told her that, and I told her that my son was one of the inclusion kids, because she looked like she already figured it out. Of course another mom close by who has a daughter in bubs' class scooted on over to join in our convo. Look, they were really friendly but I just felt like I was cornered. 'S's' mom proceeded to ask me what was the matter with my son, and why was he in inclusion. She said she noticed that all the inclusion kids seemed fine and that none of them 'had a third arm growing out of their head, or anything'. Gee, think of all the countless hours of therapy I wasted on my child, since he didn't have the requisite third leg growing out of his skull. I think I had a 'look' on my face because she then said I didn't have to answer if I didn't want to. Oh really. I made up some vagueness about speech delays and early intervention just to end the conversation.

I am VERY proud of bubs and under the right circumstances I will share. But this woman should have controlled her curiosity, and I really think that was all it was. She wasn't mean, just overly nosy. But it was the third time that night someone asked me what bus stop I was at/where I lived/ who is my son's teacher. Normal questions I suppose. Nothing outlandish. But it was a real conversation killer when I delivered my answer. You can almost hear the crickets chirping.
I know I am super sensitive. I probably sound like a paranoid nut job. I just don't know how to handle all this.
We were super insulated, super nurtured and I had a really tight (and still have)bond with some of the moms I met at bubs' old school. It was a wonderful support system. I am now in a world where people don't know where we came from. They think that I came from where they came from. I am not ashamed of my son at all. I am just fiercely protective of him. Fiercely. I never want anyone to not want to be his friend because of a label or to gossip about him, or to even look at him with a strange curiosity. I want them to see the goodness in him, to know that he is an individual. I am afraid people will just hear the word autism and think of rain man or headbanging and be frightened. I also feel like the burden should not be on my child to change their mind about it. I don't know where we are headed down this road, and into or out of those proverbial 'woods'. Once you are 'out of the closet' you cannot go back in.
It's different for everyone. I have friends who have cards they hand out in public places, for the very same reason I don't want to tell anyone. So that people will treat their children with kindness and understanding. They don't want anyone judging if their child is stimming, or having a meltdown. It's really all part of the same post traumatic stress disorder we are collectively going through.
I know I am reading way too much into this. I know most people aren't that judgy (or at least I hope not) . I know that 's's' mom was just being nosy and trying to gain an understanding of what makes a child qualify for special ed, although I really did think her daughter was 'one of us' and perhaps had some social issues. I know. I just don't know how to handle it.

This n that..

2008-10-01T19:58:00.004-04:00

So it's been like forever since my last post. Every time something happens around here, I'll think to myself, I should blog about that. But do I? I guess I thought I'd spare you all the minutiae of my every day life (plus I really wanted to use the word 'minutiae' in a sentence).

I have my first event tomorrow for my 'bee happy' business. I have been sewing like a fiend this month. I have officially re named my little sewing sanctuary room into 'ye olde sweatshoppe'. I saved a lot of money on gas this month because as soon as the school bus pulled away I went up there and slaved away. I didn't leave the house for days at a time.So tomorrow is my big day. It should be fun, and hopefully profitable although after all the time and money I have spent sewing my little heart out, I don't think profit is something I can hope for. Especially since the world as we know it is coming to an end. I am just psyched to have my stuff 'out there' for people to see, and if they are kind enough to buy it, then my fragile ego will be soothed (momentarily). It's my first show so I am really doing a little market research to see what sells and what doesn't. I will report back with pics on Friday.
I also want to celebrate my first year blogaversary. I blew off my birthday giveaway that I wanted to do and I want to make it up.

So what else. Soccer is a minor fiasco. We are 'ok' with it, but I feel like a deranged soccer parent sitting in a fold up chair screaming directives at my son. I want him to enjoy it, I don't want to scream. He has this cute habit of playing nicely for two or three minutes and then getting tired and walking off the field as if a game wasn't going on. He insists on sitting down while one lone kid dribbles(or whatever the hell that is called) a ball around a field. My husband cannot take it, it makes him nuts. I admit it's kind of a puzzle (no pun intended) about what to do. I mean I cannot bodily force him to play soccer. I also cannot force him to pay attention. I think it is just magnifying our strange place on the spectrum and it really stresses me out. It's one long hour, I'll tell you. He does seem to 'get it' more a little each week. My goals for him regarding signing up for this nonsense was: to get exercise, to have fun, and to be part of a group. I am not sure we have accomplished any of these goals yet, but we are only heading into our third week. It's a fine line between making him accountable and making him miserable. We are not sports people here.

School has been wonderful though (knock on wood). It's super laid back which is totally not my style but I am trying really hard not to be annoying about it. They are giving bubs speech once a week for now, and the beautiful part about it was that I didn't have to ask and it didn't require a change in his i.e.p.. It was just a matter of 'he needs speech so the therapist cleared a spot for him'. I thought that was unheard of in district. Bubs has never gotten speech believe it or not. He also got an o.t. eval but they are going to call me with the details. He is just filled with such joy waiting for the bus. He absolutely loves everything about school. That is my communication book for now. He comes home with stars on his worksheets and projects in the backpack. It's almost surreal how the slate of the last three years appears to have been wiped clean. I keep waiting for the bottom to drop out. That's how I operate.

Well gentle readers, I hope all is well with everyone. That's my story for tonight.

If you love something set it free...

2008-09-13T21:28:00.007-04:00

My husband found a caterpillar on a plant at work a week or so ago. He thought bubs would really enjoy seeing it, so he got a coffee can, some leaves and poked some holes in the lid and stuck it in his car. By the time he got it home it had turned into a chrysalis. So we moved it into a mason jar, and vented the top. Bubs was beside himself with joy. He had to call up everyone and tell them about it. I did some Internet searching and determined that it was indeed a butterfly and not a moth. Do you know how to tell the difference? FYI a moth spins a cocoon out of silk like thread. This cocoon looked more like a leaf, it was green and of course we talked all about camouflage. I felt like a homeschooler.

So we kept the thing on the shelf. High enough so that it was out of danger from bubs' not so gentle touch. It has been kind of damp around here lately and mold kind of grew all over the leaves. This was shaping up to be quite the science experiment. I was kind of expecting this to not be a positive experience. Our catfish died in the tank the other day, so we were fresh off of a strange kind of explanation/conversation about death. That's a subject that has me stumped. Considering religion isn't something we haven't embraced and we haven't even begun to to discuss the concepts of heaven and afterlife (which quite frankly was not anything I'd ever thought I would have to explain for some odd reason) it really became the lamest teachable moment I have encountered (so far) . But I veer off course here.

Friday when I got out of the shower, I just had a feeling that I should go and check out our jar. Lo and behold I see a beautiful monarch butterfly right here in a jar in my living room. I was humbled. I put it on the table. Then I started to worry. Would the mold kill it before bubs and my husband got home? Would it get claustrophobic and do grievous bodily harm to itself trying to escape confinement? Would the noise from the vacuum hurt it's ears? Do butterflies even have ears?

I called my husband who was thankfully on his way home so I wouldn't have to deal with this kind of pressure on my own. Bubs got home a few minutes before. He was so thrilled to see his butterfly. Thrilled. A thrill that was short lived till we told him we were going to set it free. He started to protest, the bottom lip started to quiver and the tears of real true sadness came pouring down. It broke my heart. My husband who wanted to film the release for posterity caught the sadness on video for us. It was quite the scene.

The went into the backyard. My husband had the jar and the camcorder. Bubs was screaming. They found a stick and opened the jar. It was like those wildlife shows where an animal is raised in captivity and finally let go into the wild. They don't want to go at first. This butterfly planted itself firmly on a stick that my son held tightly in his little fist. He stayed there for quite some time, either in some kind of crazy attempt to console my son, or torture him. Again, all filmed. The thing finally flew off the stick and flew around the backyard for a while. Bubs was inconsolable.

I was going to purchase one of those store bought butterfly hatching kits. I think I have changed my mind.

Anniversary

2008-09-11T09:26:00.006-04:00

Today kind of snuck up on me. I knew it was coming. I saw it on the calendar. For some reason it still hit me like a ton of bricks. I was listening to the radio this morning and they were playing people's requests all morning. They played songs like Marvin Gaye's, 'What's going on?' and Elvis Costello's, 'What's so funny bout peace love and understanding', and things like that. I was overcome with emotion. Probably more so than that day. That day I was numb.

I am sure everyone has their moment. Where they were, what they were doing. It's like this generation's Kennedy Assassination, in the sense that time is frozen in that moment forever. I was teaching. It was second period. The attendance woman came in to collect the folder and said that she hear a plane attacked the World Trade Center. My immediate thought was that it was a small aircraft, one of those crop duster things. One of my students went into the hallway to look. I taught in a school on the border of Queens, very close to Kennedy Airport. You could see the towers from the school. He came back and reported that he saw a lot of black smoke in the sky and that the building was very clearly on fire.

I taught computer graphics, so we had computers in the room. I also have to say that I taught high school students. Had it been elementary students, none of this would have been discussed at this point. So we went on the Internet for more info. Internet was down. That was my first clue that this was bigger than a Cessna. We did our best to keep calm, and to comfort each other. Later on that week I told them all that we would forever be cemented in our memories. I told them that when they were older, retelling their story to whomever, they would talk about being in Miss C's Media Arts Class when it happened. The bell rang and we were all off and running.

I had a prep period so I went in search of a t.v. I found one in the gym teacher's office. Crowded around the set with a group of my co workers we watched it all unfold. It was just too horrible to watch, yet we watched it. I really thought the world was ending. And if the world was ending, that place was the LAST place I wanted to be. I wanted to be home. I wanted to be with my husband (who wasn't my husband yet).

The phones were down so we couldn't even talk to our loved ones. Then we heard the fighter jets overhead. I didn't know whether to feel safer or more terrified. We had to go on with our day and try and maintain a sense of calm. Those were the orders from administration. It was just too hard to pretend that it was all OK, and I think the kids new that, but they did not want or need to see their teachers freaking out. We all did the best we could that day. Unfortunately every time the bell rang, the students walked in the hallway and could plainly see the black cloud of smoke that would linger for months after that day.

My husband was on a job interview. Can you believe they still went on with it? I think it was at like 9:30 in the morning, in the height of all the mayhem. He didn't' take that job. He had my car so if I wanted to leave I couldn't. We listened to am radio the whole day trying to get information. Of course there really wasn't much at that point. I really hate am radio. I think the frequency does something to my insides, and especially on that day, it was awful.

I finally got to go home and while it was the end of a horrible day, it certainly wasn't the end. The smoke lasted forever. The supermarkets had pictures up of people still missing. I also think it was the birth of CNN overdrive with all the bands of words moving across the bottom of the screen, information overload. It was 24/7 Osama Bin Laden. American Flags. Hatred of anyone wearing a turban. Insanity.

My husband went to work cleaning up the area around Battery Park. His friend had a restoration company and he took a temporary job with them. He saw lots of destruction. He also came back with bronchial asthma. For quite a long time after bubs was dx with pdd-nos, I often blame the toxic mess he inhaled on a daily basis.

I was totally numb that day, and I think as each year passes, it seems to hurt me more. I wasn't a mom when it happened. Being a mother really changes the way you see things.

I have the tv on. For the 6th year in a row, I am listening to them read the names of the people that perished. I am so thankful for all that I have. I am so sad for the people that lost their loved ones. I am also very sad for us as a species today.

Hell has frozen over

2008-09-08T15:29:00.007-04:00

I am now a soccer mom. Yup. We are digging out the folding lawn chairs with the beverage cups in them.
I was watching bubs last week at a family picnic. He was kicking a ball around and running at the same time. I thought to myself, 'wow, he's really got that down.... we should sign him up for soccer...' Lo and behold in the backpack on Friday there was a notice about a CYO micro soccer league on Saturday mornings at our neighborhood elementary. So I discussed with my husband.
He takes things very seriously. So I am kind of afraid that if my son doesn't like it, this could be a fiasco. Like he blew a gasket when I told him that we couldn't make the first game because bubs has a birthday party to go to. Seriously. So I am kind of apprehensive that if it doesn't go well, between bubs and my husband, I might have the life sucked out of me. But I'll do anything for bubs, even suffer the wrath of my intense husband.

We went and signed up. Bubs was more interested in the dragonfly that he saw buzzing around. Not a good sign. But he liked the outfit. They tried to entice me into coaching. Please, I am not qualified to even teach five year olds soccer. Hopefully that is not indicative of what kind of person will be coaching bubs' team. I didn't' say anything about bubs. It's sensitive information not to be shared with just anyone. I need to see how it pans out. Bubs shadow this summer told me just to sign him up for stuff and he will be fine. As a teacher and as a parent, I am not sure how to handle this. But seeing how this is just kids running around chasing a ball, I think we might be OK. I'll play it by ear.

So I took bubs to get cleats and shin guards and a ball yesterday. He did NOT want to go. He told me he was scared of cleats. I think he was just yanking my chain because he didn't feel like going shoe shopping. I am just not sure if he will wear those shin guards. They looked uncomfortable to me and I am not wearing them. They go on under the socks, which are gigantic. I am now getting ahead of myself here with worry. We are operating under many stressors here-sensory objections to uniform, objections to just being told what to do, intense pressure from spouse,attending and behavioral issues, over stimulation..... ahhhhh, somebody stop me.......

So I am a soccer mom. A neurotic soccer mom.

edited to add: I look JUST like that picture by the way.

Freaky Friday

2008-09-05T11:40:00.011-04:00

click on the picture for all the deets

I was looking through one of my farty housewife magazines (I think it was Women's Day) and I came upon this ad. Usually you see them for things like the m & m candies babies, or the little cute dolls that you can hold in your hand (and I don't mean cute in a good way). You know them, they could be yours for 3 easy payments of $24.95. I usually just glance at them and think about what kind of person might want one of those. An adult I mean. I imagine a house filled with creepy dolls and lots of ruffles on the couch and windows. Some E'au de Mothball.Someone I probably wouldn't hang out with. Don't get me wrong I like dolls, but the lifelike ones totally creep me out. My husband told me a story about how someone had one of them in their car and the cops shattered the window to try and rescue the baby in the car.
OK, back to Umi. I came upon this picture and I have to say, it really jumped out at me. I mean who is the target audience for this? Is it for an animal lover? I don't think so. It's not for a child because even though it's made out 'lifelike silicone', it's way too delicate and chokable. A Paris Hilton wannabee? Who is going to want a lifelike monkey doll dressed in baby clothes with a bow in it's fur? Oh and it comes with a free pacifier. This kind of crazy doesn't come cheap though , it's only five monthly payments of $27.95, which if you do the math, comes to a whopping $139.95 It moved me though, I have to admit. Enough to show it to my husband (I told him I wanted it for Christmas) and enough to take a picture of it, download it into my computer and share it with you.

In a totally unrelated note, my son did well yesterday. He didn't want to talk about it to much but from the snippets I got out of him, someone named Andrew wasn't being a good listener. He got to go to music class and play with the instruments, and he sat with a girl from his class on the bus ride home and her name was Hannah Montana. This morning when he asked me what he was doing today, I told him he was going to kindergarten again. He said 'but I already went there already'. Apparently once was enough for him, although he seemed to forget that when the bus pulled up. He skipped happily down the driveway and onto the bus. Thank you God.

Swimming with the sharks

2008-09-04T15:08:00.005-04:00

This morning at 8:24 am the bus came and picked up my son to take him to the big bad world of elementary school. You know it should be easier for me to deal with seeing as how he's been going on a bus to school for the last 2 years. Should be, but it wasn't.

I remember back when we started all the home therapy. I just couldn't imagine this day. I didn't know where he would be. I just could not picture it. It's almost surreal that it is here now. Simultaneously a blink of an eye and a million years ago if that is entirely possible. It was hard enough sending my 3 year old on a bus to go to school all day, but at least I knew exactly what he was doing for most of the day. We had the little black and white communication book. I know I have one of those now, but it's not quite the intimate portal into my son's day that I am used to. I think it's kind of a vague thing that I'll be lucky to get a morsel of info at the end of the week. I know that it's supposed to be that way, what we had wasn't typical. There's the thing. I am not used to typical. I am scared of typical. Terrified to my core.Whew, that feels weird to admit.

My big fears for today are: did he eat his lunch, did he listen to his teacher, did he keep all of his clothes on when he went to the bathroom, was anyone mean to him.

He'll be home in around 20 minutes. Hopefully my sanity will preserve itself till then. I can't wait to see him.

Cottage Industry

2008-08-31T18:50:00.009-04:00

So while I haven't been able to get much sewing done this summer, I have certainly thought a lot about it. I am going to have my first 'vendor' experience though. I saw in the local pennysaver that a school in my area was having a fundraiser. It's a different autism school from the one that bubs attended, but I figured my first foray into craft selling might be a little easier if I was around my autism peeps. My sister is going to sell her jewelry too, she purchased a table as well. Even if I don't sell anything, it will all be for a good cause. It will be on October 2nd.

I really wanted to do it, not so much to make money because I am learning that it's somewhat impossible to make any doing this. When you purchase materials retail and then spend hours sewing them yourself, it's not really to get rich. For that you need lead paint and sweat shops, I think. For the most part I am doing it for the thrill, for the joy of making things and the even greater joy of people wanting to pay hard earned monies for the stuff I make. So I sent in my check. Then I started to freak out. I have been squeezing in a little creating time as of late and my inner voices are pretty harsh. I find it best to just keep plugging along and trying my best. Then I must leave the projects in the room and go and do something else. When I come back things look better as if little elves came and cut away all the loose threads. Hey, it's not brain surgery and it's not really a big deal if no one buys any of it (although it would be cool if they did). Worse case scenario is that I have a store room of ready made (with love) gifts.

I am excited though. I remember as a little girl I would always try and make stuff to sell to stores. When I was really young I made little miniature food out of clay and I sold them to a local dollhouse store. When I was in high school, I created these little tchotzkes called 'uncannies' where in I took a crushed soda can and painted it to look like a person. I made cheerleaders and football players and I got a local gift store to buy a few. I once went to someones birthday party in high school and someone got them one of my cans as a present. So the entrepreneurial spirit is part of my being. It's more of a 'you like me, you really like me' kind of thing, as opposed to a 'money money give me money' kind of gig.

Maybe it's part of me trying to get my mojo back. I am going to be going back to teaching in some form or another, but this adventure is different. It could be filed under 'personal growth' maybe? I don't know. All I know is right now I have not much to sell and as soon as that bus pulls away on Thursday morning, I will be sewing away like a madwoman. Inventory. I need inventory....

I dabbled in matryoshka dolls. They are very in on the etsy scene. They along with toadstools, gnomes and hedgehogs are the trend for crafty gals. I thought they looked like bowling pin dolls, but I was pleasantly surprised when my husband saw them and said 'they look like those Russian nesting dolls'. So they passed the first test. I haven't decided what the second test will be yet.

This is a little kidlet tote that I made for bubs' friend's graduation party. I thought it came out cute, although it does have it's issues but it was a gift and gifts don't have to be perfect. They are made with love. And love doesn't care if your seams are wonky and your handle was too long and needed to be chopped and sewn back together.

So this is where I am at these days. Maybe I will be so busy sewing that I will forget to eat. Wouldn't that be lovely?

I'm a winner...

2008-08-29T19:54:00.008-04:00

The lovely Rae at Not Perfect Parenting has bestowed upon me this lovely award. I believe the rules involve answering these questions with one word answers and then giving the award to seven more people. I am afraid I don't know seven more people I could send this to without them going 'who the hell is this person'. I am a bit insecure these days in case you haven't noticed. I could not possibly deal with rejection at this time. Plus my computer has some issues and it would take me ten years to try and link everyone. But thank you for my award, I am needy and I love the attention.

1. Where is your cell phone? bag
2. Where is your significant other? couch
3. Your hair color? highlightedish
4. Your mother? nice
5. Your father? retired
6. Your favorite thing? reading
7. Your dream last night? unmemorable
8. Your dream/goal? unfatness
9. The room you're in? den
10. Your hobby? sewing
11. Your fear? death
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? happy
13. Where were you last night? home
14. What you're not? skinny
15. One of your wish-list items? couch
16. Where you grew up? LongIsland
17. The last thing you did? cooked
18. What are you wearing? stilettos
*kidding, sweats
19. Your TV? modest
20. Your pet? fish
21. Your computer? Lifeline (ditto Rae)
22. Your mood? pooped
23. Missing someone? no
24. Your car? new
25. Something you're not wearing? makeup
26. Favorite store? joannefabric
27. Your summer?magical ;)
28. Love someone? yup
29. Your favorite color? red
30. When is the last time you laughed? today

31. Last time you cried? today

I don't know why 31 is acting all wonky but it will not behave. So it's by itself. At any rate, I did remember that there is someone out there who I can pass on the props to- it's Momster!

Warning signs

2008-08-27T20:19:00.006-04:00

Here's another embarrassing story that I wouldn't admit to if you were to meet me in person. I was online checking out my cell phone bill. I just got a new 'free phone' and my bill seemed a little high, so I was just doing some investigating. I was looking at the phone calls for my husbands line and I notice this phone number. The number appears over and over again on the bill for the month. I can't place it, although it looks vaguely familiar. I started to get a little concerned about it because it just showed up so damn much on the bill. I trust my husband, and the poor guy doesn't have time to breathe let alone make phone calls to a floozy, but ya know how your mind kind of plays tricks on you? I think in my mind it's April fools day every day. I think I literally said out loud to myself while on the computer, 'whose number is this, dammit?'. So I Google it, like any self respecting paranoid crazy woman would do. Wouldn't you know it, the number was familiar because it was OUR phone number. I embarrassed myself in front of myself. It's definitely time for me to get a job outside the house.

I also know I have some unfinished bizness to take care of, there is a tag and a tag/award that I am going to get to, I've been real busy being insane....

Recalculating...

2008-08-25T21:42:00.003-04:00

So did you all think I went and ran off with Justin Timberlake? Where the heck has the summer gone? I really had a lot of plans. Some of them got done, some of them didn't. Such is life I guess but it still gives me a little grief. I feel bad about not posting here. I feel bad that I didn't do my bloggy giveaways which I had planned. The more I felt bad, the more I didn't post. So I am here to face the music so to speak and ramble on about my insanely boring life.

So our magical summer is coming to a close here. I think bubs had a great time. I had a great time making sure he had a great time. Camp turned out wonderfully. He actually wound up going without a shadow for the second half of it. That was like a dream come true, although it involved me letting go a little, which was not easy. What in my life is easy though? We are now in that purgatory that happens between camp and kindy. I am going to try and savor this week. After this week, my baby is going to be in elementary school. Whoa. Just typing that makes me think that he'll be in driver's ed before I know it.

August was nice. I had my birthday on the 9th (and I really wanted to do a giveaway and I will do a belated bday one, I just have to actually make something nice to give away). My dh got me a garmin gps system. I love it. We had borrowed my parents when we went to Pennsylvania and I really became attached to it. I think though that I will no longer pay attention to how I get anywhere which really won't help me much should the garmin stop functioning. I also think that while it's an incredibly nifty device, it has it's creepy moments, in a 'Hal-2001 A Space Odyssey' kind of way. I will put it on when I need to go somewhere new, but I take a different route starting out. When you do that she says 'recalculating' but she says it with just a hint of disappointment and disdain and it's enough for me to feel slightly guilty about veering off course. There is a way to shut the voice off, but I haven't read the instruction book yet. It also has bluetooth capabilities and an mp-3 player. It' s also forcing me to remember to lock my car all the time , which is something I never did. I have a friend who has one and she told me she keeps windex wipes in the car to wipe away the little suction cup circle you get after you pluck it off. She said thieves see it and know you have one. Hey, it's all in the name of modern convienence, right? I really do love it though, and I thought my husband did a great job! He also got me a new charm for my troll bracelet, and a nice copper watering can.

See, I told you my life was boring. We also had bubs' school graduation last Friday. It was from his center based aba school. He technically graduated in June but they had the ceremony at a local college last week. It was bittersweet to say the least. For many reasons. I think I have a form of survivors guilt from the whole experience. We have been so blessed, so incredibly fortunate. Our son has really come so far, and continues to do so well (knocking on wood). It's been such a wild ride and I know that most are not as lucky as we are. I know it and watching the kids graduate on Friday cemented that thought home. It's a chapter in our lives that will never be forgotten, but is coming to some kind of end as we move on to the next adventure. I am not sure I can actually put the whole thing into words. I am still kind of processing it myself. I couldn't even make sounds come out of my mouth as I watched bubs stroll casually up the stage and smile and wave as he collected his hard earned diploma. Choked up doesn't even come close. It was the culmination of 3 years of red alert terror combined with joy I never even knew I could feel, a roller coaster ride of emotions. I know I am not making sense, like I said, I am still trying to get a grip on it. We did go out and celebrate with a nice dinner and bubs' teachers came along with us.

I have decided to venture on into the working world. Yes, my life of leisure will be coming to a close as I try to add a few coins to our dusty piggy bank. I am going to start slowly. I have all my paperwork together to start subbing in our school district. I am not ready to get a full time job just yet but I think this will be a good start. The hours will be great and the pay is pretty damn good, and compared to what I have taken in over the last 5 years, amazing. My husband is fried and I have to help. Plus I really want a new couch.

So I am back-I have gotten over my blogcrastination. More boring stories to follow.

I'm bringing crazy back...

2008-08-07T13:56:00.005-04:00

Dreams are really crazy. Since I stopped taking my sleep aids (overt the counter since the ambien ran out) my dreams have been particularly insane. I can't even believe I am writing about this. I don't think I would even admit I had this dream in real life. Although I think that while this dream was bizarre, it did send me a message that I needed to get.

OK, so my dream was about Justin Timberlake. He is not someone I particularly find 'hot' and I am not really into his music. I don't hate him or anything, he just doesn't 'do it' for me, well at least for my conscious mind. My unconscious mind I have no control over.

In my dream, I somehow met JT (as he will be known from this point on). Don't ask me how. I don't know where my husband and child were during this time period, they existed though because they were conspicuous in their absence. So I met JT and ugh, I can't even believe I am typing this... We met and we 'connected' and we became 'friends'. Nothing dirty happened, and that was my dream decision. For some reason, JT liked me. I was totally myself in the dream. 42 years of age, borderline frump, at least 50 lbs overweight, in need of some highlights and a trim ... you get it? In spite of that JT liked me, he really liked me. We hung out. Perhaps he was in need of a mother figure, but it's way too trippy to try and analyze his motives for being in my dream. I remember being on his tour bus and deciding that I couldn't leave the fabulous life I already had to go and join JT and his merry hipsters on his way cool tour bus. I remember thinking (do we think in our dreams?) that I would miss my child (duh) and my husband. I felt guilty for being there (and for even having this stupid dream) and while I enjoyed the whole situation, I felt like I belonged in my old boring life. It really is a wonderful life... and everytime you hear 'bringing sexy back' an angel gets his wings.....So I broke poor JT's smarmy little heart. I think he'll survive.There was also a paparazzi situation but I won't even get into that.

OK, now that I have completely embarrassed myself, I am throwing out this question to my readers: Have you had questionable dreams about someone that in your waking hours kind of repulses you? Or am I alone on this one? I won't even begin to tell you about the eminem dreams I have had (more than once,lol).

OK, this post might get deleted at any time due to my mortification.

Digging in the dirt...

2008-08-05T20:22:00.004-04:00

What a difference a day makes. Today my dad called us up and said he was going to be working near us and said we should stop by with bubs so he could run the machine. I guess I didn't take it literally, I thought he would get to sit in it for a while and then we would go. Little did I know he would actually pull levers and lift buckets and scoop out dirt and dump the dirt. It was unbelievable (and probably not that safe, I promise I do make him wear a helmet when he rides his bike, and I cut up hot dogs into microscopic pieces). My dad said he was really good at it. I never really focused on hand eye coordination, I guess I never obsessed over it much for some reason. I do know that the fact that he was able to listen to directions, focus and actually get that machine to work was monumental.

It was also really nice for my dad. I know he gets a huge kick out of it. Being that he had only girls, and we didn't go into the family business, it's a lot of fun for him to share his experiences with his grandsons (and he has only grandsons, 3 of them). He used to have his own fleet of these machines before he retired, but bubs wasn't even born yet before most of the stuff was sold. Bubs had a great time with it, and my dad even paid him 5 dollars for his hard work.

My husband is home this week, he hurt his calf on his yearly 'caveman' camping trip. He was bummed, but it's nice to have him home. We have been having quality time and I have been getting a little 'me' time. Today he took bubs out on some errands and I got to completely purge the living room. It was delightful. I feel all fresh and clean inside, perhaps what I imagine a colonic to feel like (although that's not for me). I organized, sorted, and binned things. I threw out some junk, and shoved the rest into the pit of hell we call our basement. Then I even got to go to my sewing room and make my five minute skirt . That's what it's called and if my computer wasn't so screwed up I would post the link. It took a little longer than five minutes, and it might make me look like I am converting to Orthodox Judaism, but I really like it. Plus it just felt good to have the sewing machine running.

My sister had the same situation happening with her home owner's insurance and we might have found a nice company that doesn't care about our trampolines. The nice lady from the nice insurance company is going to check and hopefully call me tomorrow with her good news (see, I am optimistic again).

edited to add the link for the 'five minute skirt'

I am annoying

2008-08-04T21:15:00.003-04:00

Ugh. I am feeling so overwhelmed. This will be a boring whiny post. I am sorry in advance. No one in my 'real life' wants to hear my sorry ass whining, so unfortunately (for anyone who decides to read this) I have been forced to take it to the blog.

Reasons I am in a stinky mood:

1) I have an escrow shortage. I am not even sure I know what that is, other than it sucks, because I have to pay even more money to live in this shack. I always think of escarole and beans when I see that word. It's not a pretty dish, and it smells.

2) On the same day I was informed of my escarole shortage, I was also informed that my homeowners insurance policy was dropped due to the deathtrap in my backyard, otherwise known as a trampoline. Honestly, why do they sell those suckers if they are so toxic. Somebody must want to insure me. I was already dropped once before due to living too close to the water and being a hurricane risk (I am not that close to the water). I think I was more insulted than anything. I now have a month to try and humbly beg some dumb insurance company to please please please sell me their insurance. Plus I get to lay out a whole new years worth of insurance, while I wait for my refund from the stupid old company.

3) I am being buried alive by imaginext dinosaurs. I have a love/hate relationship with these beasts. I love them solely for the fact that they bring my child such joy, albeit a not really functional, kind of obsessive joy, but joy none the less. But I hate them because they are impossible to gain control over. They are strange sizes, they make noise, and they are freakin everywhere. I have recognized the fact that clutter is really detrimental to my health. I have also recognized that it's particularly bad at Christmas and birthday time. So I am really trying to convince myself it's just temporary. I also get incredibly tired just looking at the pile of crap in my living area. The closets all need to be cleaned out, old toys need to be bagged up and donated (and snuck out of the house while my child and my husband is not around) and the rest of the crap needs to have homes. I can't do anything till I get this done, and for some reason, I just cannot seem to get it done. It's self loathing at it's best here.

4) I am feeling smothered. By plastic dinosaurs, and my in laws.

waaahhhh, ricky....(in my best I love lucy voice)

Deep down I know that these are stupid reasons to be upset. Really stupid reasons. I think honestly , I am just having some kind of summer meltdown. My motherboard is fried, and I think I should just go and get a spa pedicure and quit my whining. Either that or a three day nap. Yeah, that would be nice.

The dingo ate my blog

2008-08-02T09:33:00.004-04:00

OK, last night I tried to log on to my blog and I kept getting a message that Internet explorer could not open it. "Operation Aborted", which I always find to be such a lovely saying. I was convinced someone hacked into my blog. There goes my troubled mind again. I must have some great sense of self to think that anyone would take the time to hack into my blog.

So now that I am back to reality and I did a little digging, I found out that it's a site meter problem. So I deleted the site meter, but I did save the code. I really miss my site meter. I found it really entertaining. The other day, someone googled 'pitchers of girls with bubs' and found their way to my humble abode. Boy were they disappointed. Most of the time I just see my location on there.

At any rate, I am back in business and I can breathe a sigh of relief.

My little paleontologist

2008-07-29T21:26:00.007-04:00

On Saturday we had bubs' fifth birthday party. Yep, my son is five (officially it's Thursday). I am of course emotional about it. We had twenty one kids at a bouncy place. Honestly, a few years ago, I was really worried that we wouldn't get to celebrate a party in such a way. I didn't even know if my son would know or care what a birthday party was, let alone give me a list of friends twenty kids long. It was wonderful. Chaotic, tiring (and sweaty in places I didn't know I could sweat) and wonderful. The theme, picked by bubs' (another thing I do NOT take for granted) was his new love, dinosaurs. On the way to the party, bubs said 'I want to be a paleontologist when I grow up'. Completely unprompted, and learned from the magic school bus book that he reads every night. He even asked me 'how many numbers do I have to be to be a grown up?'. We even went to the party store and picked out the crap made in china for our goody bags.

Speaking of goody bags, how Martha Stewart am I? I sewed my own goody bags. Yeah, I was cursing myself and my great ideas somewhere around baggie number 18. Spending all those time on those crafty earth mama blogs, made me feel inadequate. I really wanted to make my own dinosaur shaped crayons (out of chocolate molds) to put inside my homemade bags, along with some organic nuts and berries in a biodegradable package,in an homage to some crazy Montessori/Waldorf goddess somewhere out there, but thankfully my good sense kicked in and I just put in some crayola colored pencils I got for a deal at toys r us with some of my favorite laffy taffy (love the banana ones!). I thought that was creative enough, and I even included a pencil sharpener. We always get those cute little themed pencils at all the holidays, but I never have a pencil sharpener around so they just sit around looking pretty.

The kids had a great time, bubs' had a great time as well. I am so grateful for everything. Tired and burned out, but grateful none the less.

We were driving home from our play date this afternoon and bubs was sitting in his car seat looking kind of sad. I asked him 'what's the matter?'. He said 'I am sad, I miss my birthday party'. I told him we still had more celebrating to do. Of course when I asked him what his favorite part of his party was, he said without missing a beat 'presents'. I think though (and I hope) that it's more than that. We are still going to have a mini celebration on Thursday, my husband is taking off from work and we will go to the beach, weather permitting and we are having a family bbq on Sunday. So the party never ends around here!

Hey Norman, if you're visiting(and I think you are)-a big thank you for helping with the computer!!!.I appreciate all the time you took ... Now get off my mommy blog and go look at some racing stuff will ya...;)

Bloggy giveaway goodness...

2008-07-24T12:46:00.003-04:00

Even though I think it should be mine, if you want to win this gorgeous retro apron (to wear while you are making homemade lemonade and toll house cookies for your kids, Ward and the Beav) plus some more great stuff, enter the giveaway here at Sew take a hike.

We are having a magical summer, damn it! Now stop crying...

2008-07-20T21:35:00.003-04:00

Like I have said in the past, we have kind of gone 'cold turkey' on all the therapy and while I have tried to maintain some semblance of structure, it's just not the same. For the most part, I have succeeded in having fun filled days for bubs. I signed us up for some classes at a local farm, which were wonderful. On the days that we had nothing special planned, we kind of hung around the house in our pajamas, usually way too long. We watched way too much TV and we ate way too many snacks. I have to admit, I kind of enjoyed it, but in a guilty sort of way. By Thursday I had had enough though and I decided it was time for some projects.

The art teacher in me has laid dormant for a while. It's tough to do projects with my self directed boy. I have nothing but the utmost respect for any parent that home schools, but I think it would be disastrous for us here. I bit the bullet though and found some very cool projects on this website. It's tough being an anal retentive art teacher, it really is. It's a constant battle with markers with no caps vs. the wonder that is the creative spirit. I have gotten worse since staying home. All that data taking took it's toll on me I guess.

I painstakingly laid out the materials, and did a quick task analysis of the steps involved in each project. We did them outside, I also need to mention that my son hates being outside, especially when it's hot out (he inherited that from me, I was a bookworm who easily preferred a rainy day at age 4). I thought we could have one of those fun 'creative fun earthy momma' kind of afternoons, with plenty of laughs, paint and sidewalk chalk along with lots of happy summer memories. There is a plethora of amazing mom/craft/magical childhood experience blogs out there which I don't recommend anyone visit, unless they want to feel like a big huge failure.

Bubs was psyched for his afternoon of craftiness, but he wasn't prepared for my gestapo type tactics. In all fairness to me, he is a giant scutch (I don't know how to spell that word) and when I was trying to explain to him how to do this project, he just picked up a sharpie and started making random dots all over his shirt. When I nicely tried to explain that he had to wait for me to show him what to do, all hell broke loose. So after some major hemming and hawing and at least 15 minutes of crying we went inside for a breather. I was really disappointed that our happy summer memories seemed to be morphing into mommie dearest art project time.

Thankfully though, after our meltdown and subsequent recovery time, we started over, and came out and actually had fun. I am also very thankful that camp starts tomorrow. It's just a little three hour YMCA program three times a week, but I think we are both going to enjoy the time.

The space between

2008-07-15T22:27:00.006-04:00

We have been out of school for 3 weeks. I kind of knew it was going to be a huge adjustment for me and bubs, probably more for me at this point. It was a highly structured program and they kept data on everything. They had a clip board on it with all the slightly quirky/annoying things my son did and they would make slash marks each time he did one. That kind of crap made the leaving easier.
Entering the 'secular' world (for lack of a better word) has been somewhat eye opening and stressful (gee, what a surprise) for me and I think it's been a little confusing for bubs. I think if you were to describe bubs' place on the spectrum at the present moment, it would be 'falls under the radar- most of the time'. First off, I need to say that him falling off the radar is not a value judgement on my part. At our home and with our friends, there just isn't a radar to speak of. It's free and easy, flapping is optional. It's more about trying to find our place in this world, in this 'do I tell or do I not tell' kind of world. I usually don't tell because I feel like bubs has a right to his privacy (although I guess I shot that wad when I plastered his pictures all over the internet, right?) or maybe it's just that I don't think it should be an issue, I think people should accept people for who they are and not need some kind of label in order to be compassionate. Needless to say, it's a loaded issue for me. I respect any autism momma's choice in how to handle the issue. I am still finding my way here.

I have seen over the last few weeks some moments here and there where it's just not that easy for my son to keep it together. I have one child on the spectrum, I do not know what is typical for a child of five. I think sometimes I am harder on him than I should be, then other times I worry that I am making excuses for him. Does that make any kind of sense?
We were at a birthday party yesterday (A fabulous birthday party by the way at a cool jump house). I followed the boy around like one of those annoying helicopter moms you want to pinch at the park (at least I want to pinch them). Basically I want to make sure he isn't giving someone his world famous love taps (I think it's sensory seeking, and I usually am the one receiving them) and that everyone is sharing and communicating. I guess I was meddling. I just didn't want my son to make anyone cry or for anyone to make him cry. I know in my tired brain that you need to let the little stinkers handle it on their own. But I think for my bubs, he still needs some help in that department.
At any rate, at one point, bubs went up the huge bouncy slide but he went in front of a child at the top of the slide when he slid down-ignoring the one child at a time ride, and probably some kind of 'cutting the line' infraction. Honestly, I don't' think he knew what he did was wrong, it was impulsive. Not a big deal. I saw when he got down that the guy running the thing was reprimanding him. Not in a mean way, nothing bad-he was just reiterating the rules. I was going to intervene, and it occurred to me that I can't hold him up to these standards all the time, and not expect him to be treated like a 'typical' kid. It's really what I want for him. For the record, he got embarrased and never went back on the slide. It's probable that he does know way more than I give him credit for.
My friend Mary, who is my voice of reason amidst this chaos, told me that I might be holding him up to impossible standards. I don't see the forest for the trees when it comes to other kids. I intensely focus with razor sharp clarity on my own little being. She said typical five year olds can be like wild banshees, especially at a bouncey house. It's tough, we have spent the last few years working on behaviors, on my boy like white on rice. I know it's time to let him fly, and perhaps shed a few tears in the process.

I think my biggest fear is that I am making my child nuts. Hopefully one day he'll be able to work it all out with a good therapist.

Spelunking anyone?

2008-07-13T21:50:00.003-04:00

If anyone would have told me ten years ago, that my idea of a fun time would be 150 feet underground searching for bats and newts, I would have said you were smoking crack. To be honest, it's still not in my top ten, but now that I live vicariously through my son, it wasn't as bad as I thought.
We had a wonderful time on our vacay. It was a little rainy, hence the visit to Indian Echo Caverns. I was really worried how bubs would be, it was a lot of walking and a forty five minute, half mile tour given by an old man who told us we were not allowed to touch the rooms of the cave because our greasy hands would ruin it. So yeah, I was really thrilled that we made it through the whole thing without hearing my sons screams echoing through the entire cave. That might have been the exciting part for me. It was kinda cool though, literally and figuratively. It is 54 degrees inside there year round. Apparently the Native Americans used it to store their food and to take a break from the extreme temps, and they have evidence of a recluse who lived (and died there). But enough about the cave.
It was really great to be together as a family. My husband and I never seem to be parents at the same time, and I realized over the course of those few days just how separate we had become. I also noticed that my son can really try to work us both over. He was relentless at times. I blame some of it on the lack of routine and the crazy hours. He was tough though and it was nice that my husband and I could deal with it together. Even better was the fact that we were able to have good times together. The cave was definitely an experience for us, and it was really nice. After the cave we went to the Wilbur Chocolate factory, which was probably my favorite place of the day.
We stayed two nights and we were sorry we didn't stay a third. I didn't get enough Amish love. I realized how excited I get every time I see them in their little buggies. Just driving around on the winding corn filled roads, it was a thrill to see the purple and black clothes hanging on the line drying, and we even got to see a bunch of kids playing volleyball. Why does it thrill me so? At any rate, I didn't get my share of souvenir shopping, although I did get quite a bit of chocolate. We decided to make it a yearly thing and stay at the same place every year.

I felt really bad that I could not send out a package of goodies to everyone. I promise that I will have more giveaways. It is fun! My birthday is August 9th and once bubs starts camp in a week, I will be able to carve out some more time with my sewing machine.

Marla-I sent the package out on Friday, it should be there by the middle of the week!

It's that time...

2008-07-08T09:30:00.007-04:00

We have a winner!!!! We have a winner!!!

I think I am clicky, send me an email Marla!

Thank you all for your comments, I truly appreciate your coming here and reading my rants! Stay tuned for more giveaways in the month of August as it is my birthday and I will be in the mood to party!

The gifts of summer - and a belated 100th post giveaway extravaganza

2008-07-01T15:04:00.005-04:00

I am always amazed when I can grow something, be it plant, mold or child. Amazed! These little beauties are plucked right from my beautiful raspberry patch (that sounds better than bush, don't you think?). Heavenly!

I think it's time to put the crapola aside and enjoy a little summer. We were supposed to be on vacation right now, but bubs got sick on Sunday night (old man coxsackie knocked upon our door). I called the resort where we were going (in Pennsylvania) and they were kind enough to let me reschedule for this Thursday, so we did not lose our deposit, or our much needed family time. Bubs is feelin better, knock on wood, he is going on a little mini overnighter trip with his dad to the north fork of long island tomorrow night, and then Thursday we will be off. I even borrowed my parents gps thingie so I will be able to find a Panera bread there (just kidding about that, it's so my husband doesn't get angry when he misses his exit on the Pennsylvania turnpike). I cannot wait for some Amish love! Apple butter anyone?

I also want to celebrate my 100th post, about six posts later. I really wanted to do a giveaway for my wonderful bloggy friends. Apparently this is the way they do it on the craft blogs, and I have been reading them like crazy lately! So here it goes, if you want to win this box of goodness which includes; a raspberry zippy pouch for you to store all of your summer lip glosses, a tissue cozy in my summertime scoops pattern (reminds me of ice cream), my all time new favorite clothespin holder to make drying your clothes on the line even sweeter, and a couple of little raspberry button magnets- all you have to do is leave me a comment. I know there are a few lurkers here so please don't be shy. I will check back on Monday and pick a winner!!! Have a wonderful fourth of July!!!!!

Click on the picture for a better view

Summertime and the livin is easy...

2008-06-26T19:49:00.006-04:00

Or not. Today I spent the better part of the noontime hour chasing around a dense pizza delivery person, while 6 very patient little persons (and their patient teachers) waited for what seemed like an eternity for their celebratory lunch to be delivered. I was definitely sweating the small stuff today, as class mom, I take my job VERY seriously and I wanted our end of the year party to be great. Hey, we wound up scrounging some pizza from the neighboring hallway's end of the year lunch for the kids, and eventually the lost delivery guy showed up and no one was worse for the wear. Especially me now, since I am on my second malibu and pineapple juice. I forgot how deeelish they are. So cheers everyone, here is to a wonderful, relaxing, simple, joyful summer, full of homemade lemonade and fireflies and short on mosquito bites and humidity.

(and hanging all your laundry on the line to dry, too, with a cute little clothespin holder that you made yourself)

To everything turn, turn, turn...

2008-06-25T20:45:00.010-04:00

It's been quite the month, now that it's almost done, it's been quite the week. A total whirlwind of emotions swirling around here. I have NOT been easy to live with the past few days. This is bubs' last week of school. It's also his last week of therapy. No more therapy (at least for the summer, and so far, none is slated for the fall). My bubs has been in therapy since he was six months of age. He had torticollis at birth, and he got pt pretty early on. That was our 'intro' to 'the system' which has so lovingly nurtured us along all these years. It really is wonderful, and something to celebrate, but it also has me a little mushy, a little frightened of the unknown territory headed our way, and nervous to be leaving our cozy little nest.

When bubs started his aba preschool, he was three. He didn't talk, and was quite a handful. I didn't know what was going to happen with him. I was crazy into biomed, and if you wanted to see what perseveration looked like, a picture of my face should have been plastered in webster's underneath the word. I was obsessed with autism. I had to be. It was the only way I could think I had control over the insanity that was our life. There wasn't any peace for me at that time, the closest I could come to peace was exhaustion. I didn't want to send bubs to that school. It was intense, it was one on one for six hours a day, bubs would be in his own room (some called them cubicles) doing discrete trials. Plus the fact that the school had the word 'autism' in it's name, and I just wasn't ready to go there. I didn't want him to have to go there. I agonized. I looked into other options. But the honest to God truth was that aba worked for bubs. It really worked. If I wanted aba for him, I had to send him there. They were aba experts. The only game in town, and actually people moved here from all over the place to send their kids there. So, we sent him there. A baby. In diapers. It was rough in the beginning.

I really dreaded the whole thing. But a surprising thing happened. We got better. Not just bubs, but me and subsequently my poor husband who had to put up with me. Bubs loved it there, and it wasn't quite the horror show I imagined it to be. We found our peeps. Just walking in there, surrounded by people who were in the very same boat I was, was soothing in a way I had not known. While that is not enough of a common bond for me to be friends with someone, it does lead you to opening up, and I found my way to people who I consider my true friends. I also think bubs made some really tight friends, and that is no small thing to consider. Two years ago, I didn't know if he would talk, or be able to even hold a conversation. I am floored by everything that comes out of his mouth. Everything. Even the bratty stuff.

So, we are moving on. Like I said, it's a complete mix of extreme emotions. We are ready to move on to the next step, but we will really miss where we came from. It's all good. On to our next set of challenges.... bring it on, I am ready, I swear!

Thank you to all my bloggy friends for your kind words and condolences. It really means a lot to me.

The big question

2008-06-13T08:26:00.004-04:00

I totally believe that everything happens for a reason. I do. I guess that might be part of my religious beliefs, which are a part of my own homemade religion. I think though, sometimes you just have no business going and asking just what those reasons are. It's a can of worms and it is not productive. I do try and find the lesson and I try really hard to move on in a positive direction. I do, I swear.
I do think my son was sent to me on purpose. My child teaches me more than I can ever teach him. He has been teaching me a lot lately. Perhaps I was a little low in the patience department, so the powers that be decided to test that patience. A lot. Maybe I don't think it's a big deal to take your bathing suit off and put it on the right way, instead of backwards before going out. But to my son, it was monumental. He didn't want to change it. He told me so, rather screamed it so for a half an hour yesterday. He is just starting to have an understanding of empathy, and I think it confuses him. He told me this morning he was sorry for crying. I am sorry for it too. I wish I knew what was going on in his brain right now to be causing so much angst. I know from my psychology books that all change causes anxiety. It is a necessary part of life, critical to moving forward and needed to get to the next step. It's tough for all of us, it's so tough to see your child going through it.

It's all a little tender right now. One of my cousins (actually my dad's cousin's son) just passed away last night. He was 29. I used to babysit for him. When he was little (I believe one or two), he was diagnosed with Leukemia. It was heartbreaking what he had to endure. He was a feisty little guy, always tearing the house apart, full of energy. He beat it, and went on with his life. I am sure that it was always in the back of his and his families mind, lurking in the corners as I am sure it is for anyone with cancer in remission. As I watched him grow up, I always thought he was an old soul in a young body. For all the crap that he went through, how could he not. The rambunctious toddler turned into a very quiet, socially awkward, sweet kind person. The kind of person who would not hurt a fly. He went to the high school where I taught. I couldn't help but think about how his childhood forever changed his path as a person. Could it be the chemicals pumped into him at an early age (which saved his life) or just having to think about all that heavy stuff way too young?
I had heard a few months ago that he had cancer again. The doctors said that it wasn't related to the leukemia. But how could it not be? He was at Sloane-Kettering getting treatment. Apparently, the stem cell treatment caused scarring on his lungs. He had a bout of pneumonia. The other night my parents called and told me they were going to the hospital to say their goodbyes. I was shocked. I had no idea. I think that when I hear of something sad, I instantly translate it into my life. How would I feel? As a mom, it took my breath away. It gives you a little clarity on what's important in life, but it also gives me anxiety thinking that the life you know could be taken away at an instant. I imagine a giant withered hand poking you on the shoulder and a big loud voice saying 'you, you need to come with me' and off you go. I cannot imagine, and I am afraid to even think about, what it must be like for his parents and grandparents right now. The natural order of things is off, way off.

I am so sorry to be such a downer. For me, I spent the morning squeezing the life out of my son telling him over and over again how much I love him. And trying not to feel horribly guilty for all of his tantrums lately. And grateful for all I have. And sad for my cousin and his family.

Relativity

2008-06-10T08:17:00.003-04:00

So the poop thing is going really well. Really well. Much better than I could have imagined. However, the stress of it, or at least what I think is the stress of it, is making itself known. It could be that bubs is sensitive to all the changes going on in his little life right now. He is practicing for preschool graduation, he knows he is leaving his aba school and he knows that kindy is around the corner. Add that to the fact that his aba school is riding him a little hard these days, in prep for the changes, thrown in with the potty changes and I think we have a stressed out little child. It's been a tough week for us.

Our conversations go a little like this.... bubs: 'can I have shark bites' (aka 'fruit snacks, aka cavity inducing, hf corn syrup, red dye #40 crap for breakfast)....me:'no, not for breakfast, you can have...(insert list of wonderful choices here)'....bubs: 'YES, I SAID SHARK BITES...growling, yelling screaming....'. This is pretty much how every interaction between us went, and you can add in some more rudeness, on his part, and a little hitting and scratching thrown in for good measure. We don't spank around here, and I never really did the time out thing. I find myself staring blankly at the little dictator wondering what Supernanny would do. Funny, I used to watch that show and look at those poor, weak, parents and think, 'ha, they need a behavioral support plan'...and yeah, I would think I was superior because my kid never behaved like their monsters. 'Ha, they need a naughty chair, we don't need a naughty chair... We have planned ignoring', I presumed. Well, planned ignoring, where are you now?

Granted, the fact that we are even having these headbutting sessions are amazing. From what I hear, this is somewhat typical. The mental sparring going on here is certainly taxing, but I guess taxing in a good way. My husband thinks that you can reason with a tantruming almost five year old. I love when he comes home while I am attempting to wash bubs' hair. I am covered in water, and muttering to myself while bubs is in the tub crying. He had the nerve to tell me, 'Just tell him he can't do that'. Wow, that's a great idea, I think I'll try that next time.

It's my 100th Post

2008-06-02T20:43:00.003-04:00

I had big plans for this post. I really did. But those plans fizzled yesterday morning when bubs came up to me while I was sewing, rubbing his head, telling me 'my head is failed, mom'. 'What?', I said. 'It's failed, my head is failed', he said again, in a sad kind of way. So I figured he had a headache. The day before we went to the skankiest burger king I have ever been in. It was gee -ross. My friend Mary met us there, she carries bleach with her at all times, and even that wasn't enough to wipe away the skeeviness that surrounded us. So yeah, bubs' head failed due to the germ pit I exposed him to the day before. It was confirmed when my friend Mary called me up shortly after and told me her son requested that band aids be put on his ears. Our children are a very poetic bunch.
I get very anxious when my son gets sick. Un-naturally anxious. It kills me. I stress out about how he is feeling, what could be wrong, do you think it's strep, oh no not strep, I can't make him take those damn antibiotics, oh no... should I send him to school? Do I call the bus driver.... do you get the picture? I freak out.
So I kept bubs home today. He seemed to be ok, just a little congested, no fever, but not really cool as a cucumber either. He seemed to develop a 'head failing test' that he showed me. He happily shook his head back and forth, and smiled and said 'see, my head isn't failing anymore'. Who needs thermometers?
At any rate, I am going to have my 100th post celebration at another time. It will be a surprise.

The eagle has landed

2008-05-30T08:04:00.003-04:00

Yesterday at approximately 7:15 last night, my son, my wonderful son made his first official poop on the potty. It was glorious. I knew it was weighing heavy on his mind the last few days. He had been having conversations with people at school and casually asking them if they sat on the potty to poop. Luckily the adults in his life know what is going on with him so they were able to discuss this with him with understanding. He was unusually quiet as well. I know my boy was worried, I was a little worried myself. What if it didn't come out? See I told you I had issues.

So he started asking for the pull up last night and I knew that we had reached our moment. My husband and I started scrambling for things to help with the process. He got the tub of legos which would be our makeshift footstool. I got the portable dvd player. We were buckling down for a long event. Those things in place, the actual process was quite quick. Bubs was so incredibly proud of himself and he was actually surprised how 'not bad' it was. He also wanted to go and get his oft promised reinforcer at toys r us. So, at 7:30 at night (a half hour after projected get in bed for a story time) we got in the car and went to the toy store.

This morning, I was a little alarmed when bubs asked for a pull up again. Uh oh, I thought. But you know what, he went again, and this time it was even less painless than last night. A little grumbling, a little whining but fairly easy. He did ask for another toy, but I had to explain to him that not every poop gets a toy. It's the first one that is really special.

Somehow, this was not what I expected, and I mean that in a good way.

Poop, the final frontier

2008-05-28T18:40:00.003-04:00

Besides locking myself up in a room and trying my hardest to sew in a straight line (and failing), we have been busy trying to get my son to take a dump on the toilet. It's my own fault and it probably stems to some incident waaaaay back in my childhood, but we have been putting this off way longer than we should have. By we, I mean me.
My son aced the whole pee pee on the potty business. It was a fairly painless event, which involved lots of data taking, jelly beans, 8 extra pairs of sweatpants and undies and some waterproof sandals. Because my son takes after me in the anal retentiveness area, he never poops in public, so it really hasn't been too bad with the pull ups. We like to do our dirty work in the privacy of our own homes around here.
I think though, when you are at the point that you are able to remove all of your own clothes, go to the closet, and take out your own pull up and proceed to put it on, well... it is probably long past the point that you probably need that said pull up. Bubs is leaving his aba school in a few weeks, they are really chomping at the bit to get this poopie issue straightened out. I really have problems and now I am transferring them to my son. I really thought he would just wake up one day and say, 'hey mom, I am going to poop in the toilet from now on'. I really did think that. I also have forgotten about the trips to toys r us, where I did my best vanna white impression and gestured to the plethora of goodness awaiting him once that poop was flushed. I forgot about the countless hours I sat with bubs while I tearfully forced him to sit on the bowl while I sang an hour long rendition of old mac donald had a farm. I forgot about the fact that my son told me he was never going to poop on the potty (and that was fairly recent).
So last week, I told him that we had some pull ups left and that when they ran out we would not be getting anymore. I asked him if he knew just what that meant and he replied 'it means I have to go on the potty'. So yes, he understands. On Monday afternoon, we used the last pull up. I haven't said much, again, the hope, the denial, it never gets old for me. He asked for a pull up this morning and I reminded him of the situation, but he wasn't taking the bait.
So now it's a waiting game. It has to come out, right? It will come out? In the appropriate place?

Where the hell have I been?

2008-05-24T14:29:00.003-04:00

I miss my blog. I miss all my bloggy friends! I have been missing in action as of late, locked away in my happy place. I decided to start an etsy store. It's been a lot of work, and while it's fun, I have been somewhat obsessed with it, which might not be so bad except for the fact that I have dreams and visions of tote bags and tissue cozies all damn day and night.

Today I learned how to sew a button hole. Yay me! I even loaded some items in my store. It's kind of scary. I am almost afraid for someone to buy something for fear that they won't like it and give me a negative review. I just couldn't take a negative review.

So that's where I have been. I am going to give myself a little break from the sweatshop and check out everyone blogs.

If the spirit moves you, please check out my store and leave me some criticism. You can do it anonymously if you want (but I'll track you down using my sitemeter).

My happy place

2008-05-15T11:09:00.005-04:00

I have been busy the last few days trying to get my 'studio' together. I love calling it a 'studio', it sounds so artsy fartsy. It's actually bubs' old bedroom which is a teeny tiny space which I have taken the liberty of painting the girly girliest color I could find. It's still in it's beginning stages, I want a cork board up and some of my photos and stuff. But it's up and running and I actually made my first project. I am really somewhat of a fiasco when it comes to sewing. God bless me though, I keep on trying. I can do my quilts, which mostly contain squares, but give me a pattern or anything that requires precision and I am totally screwed. It's just not in my genetic makeup. I am more of a 'improvisational' type sewer. I found this tutorial and decided it was easy enough for me to try.
I have to say while I am not entirely thrilled at the results, I think I need to make the bag itself a little deeper and I have to work on the straps, I am ecstatic that the finished project actually resembled the one on the blog. That is big for me. I might use it today for a test run, and then see where I have to make improvements. I just hope it doesn't look too 'homemade' in a bad way. I love fabric and this one reminded me of oil cloth, which I am also dying to sew with but it involves changing the needle on my sewing machine, and I am ascared to do that.

All in all, I am really happy I have my own room now. I have been planning it since last October, and it has taken me this long to get it together. Now I can create, and move on to cleaning up my backyard and planting my veggies. Ahhh, a woman's work is never done.

Happy Mother's Day

2008-05-10T19:03:00.002-04:00

Happy Mother's Day to all my bloggy friends. I wish you all lots of hugs, kisses, homemade cards, tissue paper flowers and the gift of sleeping late!!!!

Pretzel logic- crunchy delicious autism awareness

2008-05-05T07:18:00.004-04:00

I stopped by my sister's house last night with bubs. She had just gotten home from food shopping. She asked me if I had tried the puzzle piece pretzels yet. I had not heard of them. Imagine my surprise when she showed me the bag.

I can't say for sure how I feel about them just yet. Like I have said in the past, I am not a huge puzzle piece person. I appreciate the symbol as some kind of marker for solidarity, like a secret handshake or something. But I know there is controversy amongst the autism community about the meaning behind the puzzle, and that some people do not like it. I do know that it's here, and it's pretty much what we've got to work with for the time being.

I do like how autism is in the news and that more and more people are eager to learn about it and try and understand it. I am comforted by that. I am not too sure about Autism Speaks though. They seem too closely affiliated with the proverbial 'man' for my comfort. I haven't decided if they are friend or foe, so for now, I am decidedly neutral (with leanings toward the negative on them.

The pretzels themselves were kind of good. Almost like a pretzel type chip. You can now have your autism awareness and eat it too!

Me Me

2008-05-02T21:41:00.009-04:00

I have been tagged by the fabolous and mahvelous Marla. My pictures are not as nice as hers though, and I think my life is mind numbingly boring. At any rate, I invite you to a glimpse of my exciting world. The order of things here is a bit wonky, I am having some technical difficulties getting these pics formatted.

5 things in my room

I wasn't sure which room I was supposed to pick. My husband is sleeping so I couldn't do our room, so I just picked my family room. It's been relatively child proofed for the last four years.

1) Zambezi river art~ When my husband and I were first married we went driving one day to westchester, just to enjoy the fall colors. We happened upon some kind of fair and one of the booths had these people selling art they got in Africa. We liked the hippo, the people we got it from said his name was 'Harvey'.

2) A mother's day gift from my son last year. I drag out all the stuff that he makes each year. This is a little jewelry box. 3) A remote control tarantula. No home would be complete without one. This one no longer works because one of his legs broke off. I don't think my husband will ever get rid of it though because he never throws anything away.
4) My very favorite photo of my husband and my son. When I went to pick up the pictures at the drugstore, they automatically made a large version of it for me to purchase. I love it for many reasons, but I think I found the intense eye contact between bubs and my husband very reassuring.
5) Our aquarium. This was bubs' Christmas present in '06. We wanted to find a 'mount wannahockalugey' like the one in Finding Nemo, but we haven't been able to. I do love the treasure chest though. It's a surprise every time.

5 things you have always wanted to do

1) Sing in a band. When I was a teenager, I wanted to be Janis Joplin, well not actually be her, but belt out a song like her. I guess I still do. My sister and I love to play 'rock band' on her Wii. She has surround sound and a large screen tv. Sometimes I drop bubs off at my mil's house and go do a few numbers at my sis's house with her. We take turns playing the guitar while the other one sings.
2) Write a novel.
3) Go to the pyramids
4) Go on a safari in Africa
5) Overcome my overall anxiety about everything, including flying

5 Things you are currently Into

1) Lost
2) Learning photoshop elements
3) Quilting
4) Blogging
5) Fixing up my house. We are currently (and by we, I mean myself) undergoing 'operation cottage living'. I have compiled a list of things we can do to make this house look/feel better. I got a subscription to a magazine for Christmas entitled 'cottage living' and I have decided I can turn my little shack into a cottage. My efforts consist of me making lists, cutting out pictures, rearranging and organizing crap and nagging my husband to do stuff on the lists.

Now I have the task of finding five people who would like to do this meme. I have to admit, I am really not sure if I know five people in blogland that I can do this to. I am going to start by tagging my friend Queen of the binge. I know she is very busy, but I am going to tag her anyway. I will also tag my friends Cake, Jaws and J and C and Me . I know that's only four, but Marla would be my fifth person and she was the one who tagged moi. But if anyone is reading and would like to spill some deet's about their life, please do!!!

*eta: I am also tagging Momster, my new bloggy buddy!

5 things in my bag

1) A paint swatch. I just finished painting my 'room of one's own'. I wanted something soft and soothing, yet not boring. To be honest, it kind of looked like an 8 year old girl's room when I was finished. It was in need of a dollhouse and a canopy bed. Now that I have some of my supplies in it, plus my antique chair, I am starting to like it. I will be picking up my grandma's sewing machine table from my parent's garage on Sunday. Then it will feel complete.

2) A little notebook with a jeweled magnetic closure. I go to bookstores and look at books and write the titles down in this little book and then reserve them at my library. I also write down books that I read about in magazines or hear about somewhere else. I am always on the lookout for a good book.
3) A winning scratch off ticket that my husband gave me. It's for two dollars. I don't know why I am carrying it around with me. I should just cash it in before it disintigrates in the mayhem that is my bag.
4)My son's wallet. Today was Friday and we took his weeks earnings to Toys r us. This week was a windfall. He had nine whole dollars in there (which is more than I have been carrying around). He got an imaginext dinosaur and a package of markers. 5) My new change purse. My sister makes fun of my Vera Bradley obsession. She says they are 'farty old lady bags'. I used to be way cooler, but I am just mesmerized by the patterns on the fabric. Plus this change purse was free w/a coupon when I got my tote bag.

I just realized that I put the end of the post in the middle of the post. Arggghhhhh. Like I said, I am having some formatting issues with the picture posting. It's really annoying, but it's late and I just can't type out all the linkage again. Sorry.

Taco love

2008-04-29T14:12:00.004-04:00

I have been really bad about dinner time. I understand the importance of a family dinner time, where everyone can gather and talk about their day and enjoy a healthy meal. I understand because I grew up that way. I also understand I am a failure at it. For one, my husband works all kinds of crazy hours so there's a logistical problem right there. Add to that my never ending stream of diets in which I am usually eating a prepackaged meal. The final issue is that my son never seemed to be able to hold it together to eat at the table- he would get super behavioral and honestly I didn't see the point in forcing him to do something that would make him terribly unhappy all in the name of 'family time'. It bothers me sometimes, but we have gotten used to our ways.

I have the almighty taco to thank for lifting the cloud of maternal guilt I have been wrought with. Bubs has been expressing an interest in tacos. I think one of his friends had those 'lunchables' (which I haven't been able to bring myself to purchase) with the tacos in it. He has been intrigued ever since. So while out grocery shopping we threw caution to the wind and got the taco kit, with the crunchy and the soft shells. Last night, I assembled all of the goods (and my lazy self must admit that tacos are indeed dish intensive, with an emphasis on bowls) and we all sat down to dinner, get this... as a family.

It was exciting and wonderful for a few reasons. To be able to sit at a table with my son and husband and feel like a 'normal' family eating a meal was amazing. I felt like I was in a commercial for home baked goodness. No one was screaming or forced against their will to sit in a chair. No noggin was involved. No reinforcers. Just sitting at the table. Add in that my son was telling us how he was helper of the day and just what that means, well, that was tear inducing (happy tears). The triple whammy element that just set it over the edge into nirvana territory was the fact that my son was eating something he never had before and was enjoying it. He tried the crunchy one first and then wanted a soft one. He actually ingested lettuce!!!! He also tried salsa but that got rejected, 'too spicy' was his exact words.

Bubs even called up his grammy to declare 'I had tacos, they were delicious!' It was an amazing extraordinary dinner that was (almost) better than any five star dining experience I have had.

Gulliver's travels

2008-04-24T07:38:00.002-04:00

Last night, my dad took bubs and I to the golf course to ride the carts. My dad does a lot of work at this particular course, he is in construction and he has moved dirt there to make paths for the carts. So after making sure all the players were gone, we took a cart and went for a wild ride chasing the geese off the greens. This golf course happens to be in a pretty affluent area. Long Island is a paradise for the wealthy (but hey, what isn't?). It was a beautiful breezy evening and my bubs had an awesome time flooring the gas pedal (it's electric though, right?) while his poppy steered. There were a lot of huge beautiful homes surrounding the course. Bubs was intrigued by these. He kept asking me if giants lived there. Which given the size and grandiose scale of the houses was a brilliant deduction. I told him that very wealthy giants lived there. Rich giants, with lots of dollars in their wallet.

Paranoia

2008-04-18T22:28:00.003-04:00

I have a confession to make. I thought I had a cyber stalker. I thought that the content of this blog must be so controversial, so thought provoking, so 'dangerous' that someone thought I must be stopped. I did. I was a little scared too. Till I found out it was just random 'spambot'.

Two days ago someone named 'shakadala' left a comment for me in the post underneath this one. Wow, that's a cool name, I thought. I wonder what they have to say. Well, what they had to say was 'click here'. Yeah. I have likened that one to my brother in law telling me to 'pull his finger'. Not that I ever fell for that one. But embarrassing as it is to admit my naivete, I did click there. Well, at least I can say I now have the wonderful program 'spybot' up and running on my computer and old bessie is now running faster than ever. So I guess I do have shakadala to thank.

So after my friend shakadala came and went, I got another comment, on the same post from someone named 'khagan'. Folks, you must know how much I love comments. I do. I really really do. So imagine my dismay when I see khagan leaving the same message as shakadala. I of course deleted it immediately, but the wheels began to turn in my brain. Did I offend someone with my detailed description of my son's drawing of the ocean floor? Have I said something hurtful? Does someone hate me? I even had my mother concerned. I was imagining scary things akin to that movie with Diane Lane where she is some kind of law enforcement agent who becomes entangled with a cyber murderer who posts his gory killing sprees on the net. I didn't see it, but I imagined it to be pretty scary. At any rate, I asked around to some more 'seasoned' bloggers and they assured me it was something called 'spambot' and that I should just delete it and move on. They also advised me to add that little box at the bottom of the comments where you have to enter that code. I now know what that code is for.

Hey, thanks Shakadala and Khagan. I learned so much from you two!

Portrait of the artist as a young man

2008-04-14T08:58:00.005-04:00

I remember the days of trying to get bubs to just hold a marker. Trying to coax out a line. He had a short lived love affair with balloons and he would fill up the page with perfectly drawn ovals with little triangles on the bottom of them, with a line coming out of it. It was really an anomaly though, because he never really cared to draw anything after that.
They have a drawing program for bubs at school. I never expected more than some improvement in the fine motor skills though because as an art teacher, I found the 'roteness' of it kind of creatively stifling. I continued to give bubs a wide variety of art materials at home and I let him hold his markers however he wanted, in whatever hand he wanted, grip of choice. I just wanted him to enjoy the process.
So now, he has managed to merge his new found skills of line making, with his wonderful amazing thought process. I have watched him drawing the last couple of days. He will sit and make these thoughtful elaborate undersea scenes. The drawings are really detailed and you can actually tell what he is trying to make. Then he will color in his creations, which kind of renders them shapeless blobs. This is where my love of process comes in- as an art teacher of young children, I never felt that the final product was indicative of the process, of the heart and soul they put into it. I was never one for that perfect cookie cutter holiday project. Even now, when I get them home, they are void of any kind of spirit. I think they are good for direction following, and can reinforce curriculum, but creativity, no.
Ok, I am rambling now. My point was to show off bubs' latest creation. It is an ocean scene, note the blue border around the page. The orange on the bottom is the sand. The white shape to the lower left is a giant clam. Can you see the scallopy line indicating the 'mouth' of the clam? The vertical green lines are the sea grass, the orange squiggle on the top left is a sea horse, can you sea the spiral tail? The two large green horizontal 'blobs' are gulper eels.

Inquisition

2008-04-10T08:52:00.002-04:00

Yesterday in the mail I got the local newspaper. It's kind of like a little pennysaver with some local news interest stories. Well, on the bottom of the front page was this article. In a nutshell, these parents chose to seek a religious exemption on vaxing their kids. The school district challenged this exemption. They said they doubted the sincerity of the parents religious beliefs and ruled that the kids had to have the shots in order to go to school. How do you prove someones sincerity?

Critical Thinking

2008-04-09T22:23:00.004-04:00

This evening bubs was watching some tv before the tub. He is heavily into public tv. We have a kids 13 channel which is all kids public tv shows. He loves this, and the fact that we have two other public tv channels to toggle back and forth and check out all the options. So tonight after exhausting all the possibilities, the only one not offering up bbc world news was the kids 13 channel. Wishbone came on. Wishbone is about a cute dog that time travels. It's live action and can be a little too 'historical' for a four year old. So bubs sings the theme song but then says "Put on Noggin Mommy" and then what could be considered a 'mutter' says softly 'this show stinks'. I might not have caught it if I wasn't looking at him.

The strange thing about it was that it sounded so 'typical'. I can only describe it like that, and it's kind of like not knowing you are missing something till you actually get a taste of it. It was not a loud sing songy aba type 'this show is stinky mommy', but more of a quick, under the breath type of utterance that kids (not usually mine) do. I must say that I am a little alarmed at the sheer attitude coming out of my boy these days. I can't quite put my finger on it, perhaps he has been reading Sartre after I tuck him in at night.

Waiting for Godot

2008-04-08T18:23:00.006-04:00

Can I just say that I love that my son can talk. I love it. I love it so much that I get happy hearing him say things that other parents might get mildly annoyed by. I love it all (well, most of it). I don't take a thing for granted, even the sassy back talk.
Bubs hasn't earned his benjamins. He got a sad face on Monday and another today. I think it's an adjustment to the new reinforcer system plus some minor screw ups at school with the wallet and stuff. So I have been really trying to drive home the fact that no dollars mean no shopping trip on Friday. Even more complicated a concept is the fact that he won't be able to buy anything good with two measly dollars.

I have been asking him all sorts of questions about why he isn't being a good listener. Today's reason was, and I quote "sometimes the projects are too boring". When did my son learn about 'boring'? I am a little disappointed that he doesn't like projects, but I have to agree as a former art teacher that yeah, sometimes their projects are a little lame, but what does he know from that? He hasn't been doing preschool projects for the last thirty years. From what I can remember about teaching preschool art, is that those kids are easily impressed. I remember just putting out containers of red paint elicited squeals of joy. How is it that my boy is so jaded?
So now that we have the concept of boredom down, we should start on obligations. I am going to teach him how to pay the phone bill.

Sweet Relief

2008-04-04T11:34:00.004-04:00

We have introduced a new reinforcer system for bubs' behavior mod plan at school. We have cut to the chase with it all and just decided to hand him the cold hard cash. We used to have this convoluted system of bubs earning three smiley faces during preschool for various positive behaviors, which in turn allowed him to pick a reinforcer, which was usually a place I would take him, where he would then pick out something. I tried to make some of the choices experiences as opposed to 'things', or rather, purchases because frankly, we have too much stuff already and it just kind of made me uncomfortable. At this point, we are looking to fade this out. Next year I am not going to buy him something every day of the week for being a 'good listener' and honestly, with bubs, it wasn't really about the object he got, it was more about 'getting the object' if that makes any sense. Once said object was got, somehow, the thrill was a little bit gone.
So, I noticed during Easter, when bubs got ten dollars from my grandma and another random two dollars stuffed into an egg, he got very excited with the prospect of going to the store and using the green papers to buy an item of his choice. At first he thought it meant he could get 12 items (which I guess at dollar tree, would be a possibility). I thought that might cause a problem, but actually it didn't. He wound up getting two six dollar items. I saw the potential in this and mentioned it to bubs school at the last team meeting. So I got him a nice new wallet (I wanted spiderman but I settled on cars) and it was explained to him that he had the chance to earn a dollar a day for following the rules (and accumulating those damn smiley faces) and at the end of the week he could take his money earned and buy a toy.
Can I say that this has been a looooooonnnnnng week for poor bubs. Every morning he dramatically sobbed that he wanted to go to the toy store today. On the days I picked him up at preschool, I could feel him jonesing for a toy. It was hard, but I really wanted to start delaying that reinforcer and I think that this will be a great overall lesson for him. We can incorporate math, and money concepts, as well as responsibility and stuff. Still it seems kind of weird to be paying my kid a dollar a day to be good, ya know? Am I molding him to be a greedy consumer? Or am I teaching him the value of a buck and how to save for things you want?
All I can say is I hope to God that he was a good listener today and earned his trip to the toy store.

Shameless self plug

2008-04-03T23:08:00.010-04:00

Once again proving that I must have way too much time on my hands (or I am really really organized) as well as having a deep seated need for recognition and approval, I have found myself nominated for 'best new blog'. Perhaps when I am feeling really self actualized I will tell you how I found myself nominated. I don't think voting begins until the beginning of may, but I just wanted to plant this image (and link) into the minds of anyone reading this humble blog to prepare you for the influx of begging that is imminent. Feel free to click on the picture to sample some other underdog bloggers out there craving the limelight of celebublog status.

Smooth operator

2008-04-03T22:48:00.005-04:00

So my son has become quite the ladies man. The other day when I picked him up from preschool, his shadow told me there was a love triangle going on, and bubs was in the center of it (unbeknownst to him). She said that there was a boy named Shawn who liked a little girl named Suzanne. Well it seems Suzanne doesn't feel quite the same towards Shawn. During snack time, she asked bubs if he would sit next to her. Shawn became upset and said (and I am paraphrasing third hand info from his shadow) 'you can't sit next to her 'bubs' she is my girlfriend, I love her', and somehow Suzanne made it known that she wanted bubs not Shawn as her snack mate. Shawn wasn't too pleased. Of course my bubs was oblivious to it all, he was just enjoying his smart food cheesy popcorn and he was happy to sit next to anyone that asked. I asked him about it on the way home, and he really didn't have any idea that Shawn was angry or that Suzanne 'chose' him. His shadow thought it was adorable, me, I have to say it was a little disconcerting that a preschooler has decided to enter the dating pool.

Then, today when I got home from my errands, I noticed a letter in the mailbox addressed to bubs. I probably should have waited for him to get home, but I opened it without thinking. Again, is it disconcerting that I should be thinking of my four and a half year olds privacy issues regarding correspondence? At any rate, inside the envelope was a teeny tiny folded square of the small legal pad paper. Once unfolded I saw the sweet scrawlings of Emma, the girl from his center based program. The note said "Dear 'bubs', love Emma' and it had a cute picture of what I think is a spider. Now the way to my son's heart is definitley through insects, or reptiles, or dinosaurs or sea creatures. I must say that I prefer Emma as a daughter in law, over that heart breaker Suzanne. Needless to say, bubs wrote her back this afternoon, a lovely picture of a dolphin.

Ahh, to be young again... I don't think I had this much of a social life four years ago, let alone when I was four.

I'll show you crazy...

2008-03-30T21:35:00.005-04:00

I have been thinking a lot about "Autism:The musical". When I watch things about autism, it becomes more about me, and my perceptions, and my son. I don't know if anyone else does this but whenever I see shows like this, I kind of look for answers. I know they are not there, but I can't help it. I want to see how parents are doing, how kids are doing, what school is like for them, do they have friends, are they 'ok' (whatever the hell that is). I get very emotionally wrapped up in it. I think overall the show focused a lot more on the parents, and I would have preferred more of the kids, but I do think it's an amazing program, and I thought that the woman running it put her heart and soul into it, and she was wonderful. Some of it made me really really sad. Listening to Wyatt talk about being bullied, made my heart ache. Watching Henry, who was so adorable, talk about his beloved dinosaurs, tugged at my heart as well. My husband and I chuckled when we heard him talk about reptiles and what they liked to eat, because he reminded us of bubs.
I was also struck by how 'weathered' all the parents were. When Adam's mom spoke about their marriage, it made me so mad. She said it was her job to make sure her son was 'kept out of an institution', and that their marriage suffered because of her devotion to her son. I think it struck a nerve with my husband and I. I also felt sorry for Lexi's mom. Sorry because she seemed to not be able to accept. Then I wonder about myself. For again, the whole thing is about me, right?

Ok, so now that I am in that mode of thinking, here's where the 'crazy' comes in. I take bubs to a 'kiddie kicks' class at a local gym. The owner of the place is one of bubs' home therapist. We love this woman. The place is great. It's open to all children and a lot of my friends take their kids there. I think it's common knowledge that the owner is also an aba therapist, so the 'nt parent's' are in general pretty cool. So we were there this Saturday for a special 'music and movement' class. Bubs was loving it. One of bubs' school mates was there, and I was hanging out with his mom. I thought it was pretty obvious that we were friendly. Now this little boy has some more visible affects of asd, he had a chewy tube around his neck to help him not chew on his shirt, and he was a little more on the active side. He is a sweetie and was having fun as well.

So I went to the bench to sit and watch my son have fun. Bubs tends to fly 'under the radar' these days, and I guess that's the reason this other mother of a neurotypical little girl felt comfortable saying what she said to me. She came and sat down on the bench next to me and was looking at the kids and said 'that boy is crazy, no?'. Ok, to give her the benefit of the doubt she was Russian, and it was obvious to me that English wasn't her first language. But the comment still had me steamed. I said 'NO, he is not Crazy, he has autism. Just like my son, they go to the same school'. I usually don't talk about bubs like this to total strangers. I feel like he has a right to privacy, and I tell only the people that need to know, like dentists and doctors and teachers (and sometimes even they don't need to know). Only when it helps him. But this just had the bile up in my throat, and made me angry and sad and proud of all the hard work that the boy and his mom endure. Ugh. I am sure she was just curious, but she could have used a better choice of words.

Ok, so how does this relate to the HBO show? I am not entirely sure, it's just that it's been on my mind. I am not sure I entirely understand autism, so how are people who are not directly affected by it going to get a grasp on it?

The 45 minute hour

2008-03-26T22:14:00.003-04:00

I am happy to report that after two sessions of counseling, my husband and I are cured. Just kidding. But things are much much much better. I think my perception gets out of whack when I am angry. I see everything through angry colored glasses. I am a lot less angry these days. Which is good.
I have always known that my husband and I are polar opposites of each other in many of our personality traits. Being the worrier that I am, (my husband doesn't know what worry is), it has been a concern and a frustration of mine. The things that I once loved and adored in my husband are the things that are slowly driving me insane these days. We are trying to appreciate each other for our differences. I am trying to look at his ability to put off projects that are important to me, as 'spontaneity' and 'laid back-ness' and he is trying to look at my ability to perseverate and stress on things as an 'organizational strength'. I have really tried to dig deep and come up with some concrete answers on why Denmark is such a sore subject with me and he has actually admitted to not taking my wants and needs seriously as of late. So we are definitely moving in the right direction. We are working on our communication skills, which I didn't realize were as awful as they were, now that we are actually communicating.

We are making a promise to spend more quality time together. On Monday night after our 'session' we went out for coffee instead of going right home. On Tuesday night we actually watched a show together, the first time in I don't know how long. We watched 'Autism:The Musical" which I will have to devote a whole other post to, it was that good.

My husband emailed me this article about couples who argue, and how it's actually healthy for you to argue with your spouse. We have been pretty healthy lately.

Happy Easter!

2008-03-22T23:07:00.003-04:00

Tomorrow is Easter. We are not religious, we are a party lovin family. So we will head out to my sisters for a massive Easter egg hunt, present frenzy and feast. Tonight bubs and I wrote a letter to the Easter Bunny and left out a plate of mini carrots. Bubs thought this was hysterical. Tomorrow the E.B. will leave mini carrot crumbs, a thank you note and a ginourmous basket of goodness. My husband was just asking me what kind of candy was in bubs' basket. To be honest, peeps are the only kind, which will probably get eaten by me. He is not a big candy eater. When we were little it was all about the homemade chocolate bunnies gnawed apart carefully, pectin jelly beans, and a few other assorted goodies. Somewhere along the way, Easter has morphed into a mini Christmas of sorts. Hey, I love to buy presents. Bubs' will be receiving a new game for his leapster, some new crayola markers that somehow change the chemical makeup of construction paper (that comes with it in the kit), a sea creature magnet art kit, and a nice bug catching jar. He originally asked the E.B. for a watch, but I think that was just because he wanted to play with his father's and he was denied. He also wants 'deep dark sea creatures' (his words) and sea monsters. I hope he is not disappointed but the E.B. could not find those particular items and he forgot all about the watch.
Happy Easter everyone, however you celebrate!!!

Breathe...

2008-03-17T12:47:00.003-04:00

I took bubs to a birthday party on Saturday. It was at one of those 'jumpy' places, a big huge warehouse with inflatable structures for the kids to go nuts on. It was for a kid at bubs' center based school, with my 'autism peeps'. I was talking with a couple of the other moms about things. One of them was wearing a heart monitor. It seems she had a panic attack recently and the docs wanted her to wear it because they noticed something was up with her heart. She wound up in the e.r. due to the attack. It seems like we are all on edge because of our annual cse meetings. I mentioned that I did a stint in the old e.r., (although before bubs was born) but I had my share of anti anxiety meds since the whole autism journey began. The other mom in our convo also has been having some issues. What are we doing to ourselves here? I just wanted to give a collective hug to all of us, a nice comforting pat on the back, and say 'it's all going to be ok'. It seems like this transition to kindergarten is knocking us on our asses.
I was looking at some pics last night of bubs' first year. It was only four years ago, but man I aged. I need a good moisturizer I think. That and some more xanax. What's going to happen to me when bubs' learns how to drive, huh? I guess I really am getting ahead of myself here, let's get through kindergarten. Hell, let's just get through the summer.

Time for a change

2008-03-10T09:02:00.003-04:00

Tonight we are going to counseling. Hallelujah, ring them bells. My husband reluctantly agreed to go. He said that he thinks we don't really need it, but he will go because it's important to me. I am sensing some denial mixed in with a little fear here, but all that matters to me is that he agreed to go. I have so much I need to get out, it's a little overwhelming for me. I have been keeping a list, is that bad?

Gender Roles

2008-03-09T18:12:00.006-04:00

I have noticed that bubs is starting to have an awareness of 'boys' and 'girls' being different. I guess he has known they are different for a while, but now he is starting to have more of an understanding of what it means to be different. It's really interesting to see the development and I see where the importance of teachable moments arise. My sister does home jewelry parties and I had one in my house today. The other night, I was telling bubs about the party on Sunday and I was explaining to him that Aunt K would be coming and setting up her jewelry. He has been to some parties at my sister's house where she had all her stuff out and he was just mesmerized by all the sparkly shiny stuff. He loves to put my bracelets on. So he said 'I like jewelry' which of course I said I like too. Then he said 'I can't have jewelry because I am a boy'. He said 'jewelry is for girls, boys get strange sea creatures and dinosaurs and animals'. I of course said he could have jewelry if he wanted. It is my goal that my child be an evolved non-sexist/non-racist human and I am starting to see just how impressionable he has become. He said 'I am going to grow my hair long and curly and become a girl and then I can have jewelry'. I thought that was hilarious, given the fact that I have long curly hair.

Choosing to be happy...

2008-03-04T14:17:00.005-05:00

I watched a documentary last night by the filmaker Mira Nair. It's called 'The Laughing Club of India' and it's about a man, Dr.Madan Kataria a Bombay physician who created a laughter club. Ok, what is a laughter club you ask? Simple, it's a group of people that get together and laugh hysterically, kind of a joyful group yoga-ish giggle fest. I was really struck with some truths while watching it. First of all, life is hard in Bombay. Second of all, these people were making a choice to experience joy, even when the situation might not have been so joyful. They kind of set aside time in their day to laugh. Thirdly, I need to get my act together.Honestly, I don't know if I am quite there yet, but it seemed kind of ironic that I happened to have the experience of seeing this particular movie in the middle of all the crap I am going through. Plus, it really reminded me of Marla's suggestion to skip when I am feeling sad. Kind of similar.
Hopefully, this link will work and you can see the Laughing Club in action.

What's the secret?

2008-03-03T08:19:00.011-05:00

Do people choose to be happy? I know it seems like a stupid question and I am probably meandering off on a tangent here. I have been in a funk the last few weeks and for someone who has struggled on and off with anxiety and depression (and the appropriate meds that go along with these lovelies) I find myself looking around and thinking that perhaps being content involves some kind of choice. So is it work to be happy? Do you stop yourself from perseverating on the stinky stuff and reminding yourself of your blessings (like having a little Oprah Winfrey on your shoulder)? I am able to do this for a while but then the nagging shit comes seeping through.

I am not a religious person, and I often think 'why not'? It seems like such a comfort to be able to have some kind of 'thing' to go to when the going is rough, when the going is OK and just have some kind of 'Lordiness' permeate your everyday existence. Honestly though, I just cannot wrap my head around it. I have known a few people who are 'born again' as well as some Orthodox Jewish people and all the different flavors in between. Again, it seems like there is a choice, to surrender? Probably more so with the Born Again, because I guess if religion were part of your upbringing, it would be way more ingrained. I have gone to church, and I think I am just too literal a person. I have the same issues with Musicals. I just can't get past the fact that real people wouldn't break into song mid sentence and start dancing around right in the middle of the street. I can appreciate it for what it is, but enjoy it, no. Just as I can read my Buddhist books and take snippets out of it for comfort, am I renouncing my worldly possessions and completely giving up concepts of desire and hope for the promise of nirvana? No, I know I do not have it in me.

OK, so hopefully I haven't offended anyone. These thoughts are still in their embryonic stage and I am just trying to figure out a non medicated way out of this dark side I have mistakenly wandered on over to. I told my husband the other night that my wish for us is to be happy. We have so much to be happy for, to be grateful for, to celebrate. Somehow, those things have been tossed aside and all the things we have to be annoyed over have taken over the joint. So do we just say 'screw it, let's be happy'? Is that even possible? Does it just lay dormant in the furnace till one day it's an explosion? Do you try and work every little detail of your life out so that you have ironed out everything, flat and neat? Everything? I think I need a panera session stat.

He can call me anything he wants

2008-02-26T21:59:00.005-05:00

I apologize in advance, I saw this on someone's blog and I cannot remember exactly which one that was.

Sawyer's nickname generator

Mine is 'cloudy'. Actually it's my second one, I didn't like the first one. Post yours, you'll see, it'll be fun. I promise!

Is it too big?

2008-02-23T15:40:00.003-05:00

Yeah, it's too big. I just got photoshop elements and I am trying to be creative. I have to make another one in with a better size. In my past life I was really good at this kind of stuff. I am a little rusty.
Edited to add: Ok I made it smaller but I accidentally deleted a few of the cute images including my daisy, from the whole thing. Aghhhh. Tech support!!!! (extra bonus points if you know what movie that came from!)

Snow Day

2008-02-22T10:46:00.007-05:00

There is something about a snow day that makes me hungry. Apparently my bubs takes after me in this department because I have spent the entire morning bouncing between trying to keep my son occupied so he doesn't eat, and feeding him. He is relentless. Just relentless. We had a playdate over yesterday and they came with munchkins. Bubs rediscovered a new found passion for them. Any flavor. Which is odd because he has never shown an interest in them before, and they really are a common occurence in his school, they are always having a party there. He snagged one at 6:15 a.m. because I mistakenly left them on the table.

Then he hemmed and hawwed for another one, and while I don't advocate doing so, I gave him another one. In my past life as a gfcfsfeverything free momma, this is a novel approach to our lives. Then at approximately 6:18 he requested 'pirates cootie' (his approximation for pirate's booty). I told him he couldn't eat anything more till he had a good breakfast. So he agreed to let me make him some eggs and turkey bacon. I felt redeemed for the munchkins. He scarfed down my eggs and wouldn't you know it the next two words out of his mouth (and the next twenty after that) were 'pirate's cootie'. I told him he would have to wait. The way we measure time around here is in t.v. shows. I told him in 'two more shows' he could have his p.c. (as we will lovingly call it from now on). I figured he might forget about it by then. I must have been delusional to think that my child would forget about anything he wants. It's never happened yet. While I hate to load the kid up on crap I really felt like a deal was a deal. I gave him the 'p.c' and then we played a while and I took him outside with me to burn off some of the energy he had (and the snacks).

I am new to the shoveling thing. Usually the person I married (and I mean that in the most affectionate way ) takes care of it, but he didn't have time this morning. In all fairness, he did dig out my car for me (but he blasted his car radio while doing it at 5:30 a.m.). I figure it's good exercise, but I am becoming a little obsessive about it. Is there a schedule for such a thing? Do I let it pile up or go out every few hours for 'maintenance'? Bubs had fun, he was pretending to be an arctic fox.

Random musings

2008-02-20T22:08:00.006-05:00

I was sitting at the dining room table today and bubs came running in with his tongue out. "Look mom", he said, not too clearly because his tongue was out. I said, "what am I looking at?" He said "my tongue". I looked at the tongue. Bubs said, "it's beautiful. I have a beautiful tongue". "Yes" said I, "it is beautiful". Off he skipped, back into the living room to continue whatever it was he was doing before he had that epiphany.

I also want to add that if you write the word 'tongue' over and over again, it stops looking like a word with any meaning.

For better or worse

2008-02-17T21:30:00.005-05:00

I am sitting here depressed watching 'rock of love'. I am seriously getting more depressed for the women on this show wrestling in the mud, desperately competing for a 'date' with a washed up, hair plugged up, goofball. I know this show isn't for real, it's kind of sad how hard they try to pretend it's for real. Some of these women are my age (although they probably wouldn't admit to it) and they look very foolish. It's humiliating, even though it's faker than fake. The humiliation is very real. Why do they feel the need to throw themselves in front of a bus for a 'backstage pass'and some 'brett beer'?
I should probably just shut it off but I am waiting for 'the girls next door' to come on. Now there's an evolved show for you. It's fascinating to me. I think it might be their bedrooms. The abundance of hello kitty and pink satin comforters and little yappy dogs...perhaps I missed my calling in life.
Why am I depressed? Maybe it's not depression. It's more a bit of confusion, anger and sadness rolled up into one post valentine's day horror show. I am really angry at the person I married right now. Suffice it to say that my valentines day weekend sucked and it ended with my long stemmed roses being stuffed into the trash. Not by me, I should add. There is some trouble brewing here. It's going to work out ok in the end, that much I am sure of. It just depends what the definition of 'ok' is. Is it me, or is marriage weird? I don't think I am that good at being married. I used to hate valentine's day when I was single. I hate it now that I am married. It's a stupid day.
I apologize for the grumpiness.

How to not be a good listener

2008-02-12T22:04:00.006-05:00

Friday was a little iffy in the behavior department at 'typical' pre-school. It seems that bubs had some issues with his teacher,Miss Wendy. She said he was a little 'sassy'. Apparently it means he is acting like the other kids. To be honest, I didn't like her 'attitude' when I picked him up. She called his name after I signed him out and he ran up to me so excited and said 'I was a good listener today. I didn't knock over anyone's blocks'. She let out a little snort and said he did knock over someone's blocks. Ok. So I grill the child on the way to the car. 'Did you knock a friend's blocks over?' 'NO' says bubs. I ask again, I get the 'check negative' from bubs. I ask one more time for good measure. I start to think he is telling the truth. He may be many things, but the kid isn't a liar.

So I wait patiently for his shadow to come to the car to settle the score. She said she didn't think he knocked anyone's block tower over. She said she was with him throughout playtime and she didn't observe any suspect block knocking over activity on bubs' part. Usually the kids tell on each other and no one told on bubs. Sometimes the blocks fall over on their own, right? But she did say, 'Ask him what happened at snack time'. So of course I did and bubs said 'I threw my juice'. 'Why?' asks the perplexed and mortified mom. 'I don't know' says a sheepish bubs who right about now is sweating his reinforcer trip to the bookstore for the afternoon. His shadow said she wasn't there for the incedent but he was apparently angry at Miss Wendy for something. I think it had to do with cleaning up snack in a timely fashion and my bubs wasn't finished with his cheddar bunnies. These are the kind of things that have me scared for next year. He didn't technically 'throw' the juice, it was more of a 'angrily knocking over a small cup of a small amount of liquid' which thankfully didn't permanently damage any other child or their clothing. I wasn't too thrilled, but on the bright side there were no other behaviors and/or tantrums other than that, and it was a short lived event at that.

So, when I picked up bubs yesterday from preschool, he happily skipped over to me and exclaimed 'I was a good listener today Mommy. I didn't throw my juice'. Did I mention I am one proud Momma. You go my non throwing juice good listening boy!

Life is good

2008-02-10T15:57:00.000-05:00

Thanks to the wonderful Maddy at Whitterer on Autism I have been given my very first award. I have been feeling the love from my blogging colleagues this week. I know that it's my responsiblity as an award winner to pass this wonderful award on. So I will be handing out my first award to Marla, for her self titled blog site, stop by there and read this very thought provoking post about Marla's amazing daughter speaking about her sensory issues.

While I am feeling the love, I would also like to send a shout out to someone I think of as my 'cyberspace mentor', Drama Mama at her blog 'Like a Shark'. She will make you laugh, she will make you cry. Read this to see what I mean.

I am also sending an award over to Casdok at Mother of Shrek. I love to click on her blog, you are guaranteed to be reading something interesting, and insightful.

I am not picking out one specific thread though, because frankly this is starting to give me an anxiety attack.

Thanks again Maddy, and let me express my sincere gratitude to all my blogging friends!

I'm 'it'

2008-02-09T08:21:00.000-05:00

I have been tagged by Marla over at Marla's Blog. Being a relative 'newbie' to the whole blog experience, I have also not been tagged that much (I think I was tagged once). The insecure girl who was always picked last in gym, is very happy to oblige. Does that make me sound pathetic?
Ok, here is the tag:

The rules: Pick up the nearest book of 123 pages or more. (No cheating!) Find Page 123. Find the first 5 sentences. Post the next 3 sentences. Tag 5 people.

What a coinkidinky, the closest book that was over 123 pages (and not an illustrated tome on insects or reptiles) is a book called "Rules". It's by Cynthia Lord and it's actually a book for kids, I would say a 10 year old. My sister lent it to me because she read it over the summer after buying it at a scholastic bookfair. This is all probably bordering on too much information. Ok, here it goes:

"And in several of the restaurant windows surrounding the parking lot, pleople have stopped eating to watch."

"Most of them have their mouths dropped open."

"Jason waves."

~exciting stuff, huh?
Ok, now I am tagging five people whom I hope will be equally as joyous to be tagged as I was :

1) Thin by decade three
2) And then there were two
3) J, C, and Me
4) hmmm. I don't know if I know anymore people that I can ask....
5) ? Anyone reading this who has a blog who would like to participate? How's that?

Somebody pinch me

2008-02-08T08:41:00.000-05:00

This week has been generous in it's rewards. I almost afraid to write about it, as if by doing so I will walk out my door to retrieve my garbage pails and get sideswiped by a runaway bus making it's way down my street. It's the curse. But I must give thanks, I truly must.

For the mundane relatively unimportant stuff, I must bow down to my accountant and kiss her feet. We were really frantic the last couple of weeks, convinced we would owe large sums of money to the IRS. My husband has been working many many jobs so that we could try and get ahead on this treadmill we are on. We were afraid the plan would backfire due to him putting us in a new tax bracket and the lack of taxes being taken out at his part time jobs (they base it on what you make at each job, not a total). Throw in a desired trip to Europe and some credit card bills (and some wasted fruit) and you have a tense situation. At any rate, my husband called me last night to tell me that not only did we not owe money, we were actually getting a nice chunk back. For this I am grateful.

I also lost 6 pounds this week. Granted it was my first week back at weight watchers, and I have noticed that once a month I seem to lose 6 pounds (my system is wired that way) which I slowly gain back the rest of the time, I will still take the loss and run with it. My effort will lie in keeping this newest loss off till the next time it happens.

I can now purchase the boots I have been coveting without dipping into my change jug.

Ok, now to the more important stuff:

Bubs has had his evals this week. I know in my brain that the numbers don't mattter all that much. It doesn't define the wonderfulness that is my son. In my heart though, I really want everything to be good and moving in the right direction. My life right now, is all about bubs, and if he is successful, it means I am successful. He is successful and happy, but the needy little person inside me wants good eval results. I used to think I was an intrinsically motivated person, but perhaps I am moving on over to the external side.

Ok, so he had his psych eval on Monday. I haven't actually heard from the psychologist yet, she is supposed to get back to me when she has the report all written up. Good thing bubs' shadow was there because she told me everything. I promised her I would act surprised and I will deliver on that promise. I know my bubs is smart, I do. He is just not a compliant test taker. Apparently 3 years of aba has taught him some compliance because he went up 40 points on his i.q. test. Granted the last one was when he was three and he couldn't really speak. I don't think anyone actually informed me of that score, because I probably would have had a nervous breakdown upon hearing it. I just found out the old score because they compared it to the new one. I never thought I would experience such joy at hearing that my son scored in the avg range for i.q. (actually a little above avg, but that's the annoying externally motivated me saying that). AVERAGE, never thought of it as a beautiful word, but in this case it was, maybe more soothing and calming to my tortured mind. I really felt myself breathe that day, like unbuttoning your pants after you ate too much.

Wednesday he had a speech eval. I of course had to ask his teachers how that went. What is with the secrecy here people??? I didnt' get too much information other than he scored above average in the receptive and expressive realms. Ok, what? Come again???? This is a child who was in the second percentile for expressive and receptive speech at age 3. Second percentile. I always referred to him as having a 'speech delay', especially when forced to converse with other moms at the burger king skanky play structure, when they asked me what preschool he went to . I never named it, I just said it was a center for kids with speech delays. I guess that explanation is no longer going to work for me.

The thing is, I really can't seem to grasp this. I am having a hard time trying to understand how this will all matter to bubs and his programs. I have had over 3 years of amazing services, with abysmal reports about everything. This is the first time in bubs' short life that he has gotten results like this.I am afraid, very afraid. Happy and afraid at the same time.

Bubs still needs help. I don't want them taking his help away. On paper we are looking fine and dandy, but it's not the whole story. Are they going to listen to me?

I must add that I am still very grateful, very thankful and so very very proud of bubs. It is a lesson in hope for anyone who has little or none.

Crunch time

2008-02-05T14:16:00.000-05:00

It's a stresful time around here, well at least for me. Bubs' cse meeting is on February 27th and somehow it's creating mass hysteria at Bubs' school. There have been evals, meetings upon meetings, observations, and discussions on what to 'ask for' with regards to summer services. I have already been informed that bubs will not be eligible for summer services at his current school. I am not sure what the exact reason is. I think it has to do with his school being terrified by the chairperson of our districts special ed committee. They have given her the adorable nickname of 'Pirahana'. Lovely. So at last weeks team meeting they asked me what I was expecting for bubs' summer. Honestly I expected him to be there, but for reasons beyond my control we are being booted out. I was given the reason that given bubs' progress they could no longer justify keeping him there. On a day long ago, that would have given me immense joy. But the older wiser me has a bullshit meter running on overdrive and I know that they just don't think the district will approve it, so they won't bother asking.

So, I said I would ask for bubs to have a shadow go with him to camp (a great camp that I think I am going to have to sell a kidney for, so that he may attend three half days a week). I would also like some extra seit hours on the days he doesn't go to camp. I thought it was fair given that we are going from 36 hours of service to around 10. They told me that the best strategy was to ask for more services than I wanted so that I may have 'bargaining power'. I told them that I didn't realize we were buying a used car here, I thought we were discussing my child. They didn't find that too amusing. I am making peace with whatever happens. Honestly, I think I can keep bubs sufficiently occupied and structured so that his behavior doesn't take a complete nosedive. This is really my biggest area of concern for him and the one he will have the most trouble with in his inclusion class. While I know I can, this is a child who gets up at 6 am full of piss and vinegar, jumping on the bed asking me 'where are we going today?'. If you want me to be brutally honest, part of my disappointment in him not being able to attend the summer session of school is the fact that I am scared he is going to run me ragged with his oh so high activity level. What the hell am I going to do with him all day??????? I am kind of torn between being angry at the school for ditching us, and being wimps for not fighting for us, and maybe embracing the idea that it's time for bubs to experience a little freedom for a change. I know he is definitely up for the challenge, me, that's a whole other bag of beans.

Circles....

2008-02-01T19:20:00.000-05:00

Two years ago, when I was a newbie to the world of cpse and all the joys that go with it, I was faced with the agonizing decision of what do with bubs. I really wanted to keep him at home, status quo with our 19.5 hours per week of aba and 30 minutes 2x of o.t. I figured I would take him to a typical preschool a few times a week for socialization and peer modeling. I wish I could make that screeching to a halt sound over the computer, because those plans were circular filed after my first meeting with the Department Chair for special ed. She told me it wasn't my decision, and my first reaction to her was 'what...oh no she didn't....' and I told her ultimately it was my decision. I am his mother for heaven's sake. OK, so we didn't hit it off that well, and I am still not all that comfortable with her. She 'suggested' that I check out bubs' current school (which in spite of my complaints as of late, I am still thrilled with). Bubs' school has the word 'autism' in it's name and I gotta tell you that was a biiiiiiigggggggg turnoff to me. I was still clinging ever so lovingly to the pdd-nos thing, even though it's a matter of semantics to me now, back then it was a huge deal. Ok, so I didn't like it cause of the name. Bubs school has a reputation of it being kind of intense, the children all have their own rooms (cubicles to some) and work one on one for the most part of the day (when they first start out there). Combine that with the fact that I felt this chairperson lady to be a huge bully and I became somewhat 'defensive'. I yelled and told her that she had no idea who my son was, and where he should go to school. It was bad. I soon realized that I was not going to get the same services that e.i . so generously provided (thanks to my rediculous property taxes) when we transitioned to school district. They were not going to budge on that. So I went and looked at a few center based programs. The school district hooked me up with another parent from the district who had a son who attended the program. She was so kind and listened to me in my raw emotional state. She comisserated with me and shared that she had the very same reservations about putting her son in 'the school'. She also told me how great her son was doing.

My husband and I got the call that there was an opening at the 'autism named' school and I didn't want to even consider it as an option. We went anyway. We were pleasantly surprised to see a relatively cheerful place that had happy children's artwork displayed everywhere. Kids were actually out and walking around (supervised) and not chained to the wall in their barracks. Some even said hello to us. It really challenged what I had previously believed. Dare I say I was......wrong (never)?

So we took the plunge and enrolled him there, I apologized to the scary Chairperson for being so 'defensive' and I redeemed myself and became a parent member for the district. Yesterday I got a call from the district that they had some parents in for their transition meeting and felt their son would really be a good candidate for 'bubs' school'. Surprise surprise they (the parents) were not keen on the idea, for the very same reasons we were not keen. The school district wanted me to call and give her our experiences with 'the school' since not too long ago we were in the same boat. I called. I made it clear that I wasn' t a henchman sent from the district to coerce them to enroll their son in a center. That said, it kind of took me back to a not so happy time in my life. I felt so bad for them and all the critical decisions they had to make, when they should have been celebrating their child's upcoming 3rd birthday. It also made me think, wow... who would have thunk I would be on the other side of that phone call.

Aesthetics

2008-01-28T20:54:00.000-05:00

Me: Did you have fun in preschool today?
Bubs: Yes.
Me: Did you make a project?
Bubs: Yes.
Me: What did you make?
Bubs: Something beautiful
Me: Oh, yes, what did you use to create this beautiful something? Paint, Markers?
Bubs: Crayon
Me: (fumbling through the pile of papers on the front seat of the car and locating said 'something beautiful) Oh, you are right, this is beautiful. What did you draw here?
Bubs: A lamprey eel.
Me: Oh, of course, of course it is a lamprey eel.

Small Talk

2008-01-27T10:55:00.000-05:00

My husband and I got to go to a wedding last night. I honestly think the last wedding I went to was my own. Seriously. So we get all dolled up and wrote out our gigantic check (to cover our plates, I love that tradition) and went to the big wedding factory. I have to say I got a little overwhelmed. I am still a big ball of swirling emotions, and big events like this always add in a little anxiety. It was my husband's cousin's wedding, so it wasn't my home turf. I knew ahead of time that some mingling and schmoozing was going to be expected of me, and in my book that is considered work.
So we get there and start the obligatory travelling from relative to relative with the usual small talk topics of convo. I don't get into the particulars with bubs. If anyone asks how he is doing, I say 'great' and leave it at that. They don't know our story, they don't really need to, and my son is doing great, so no problem there. My husband introduces me to one guy, a random cousin I never met. Nice enough. He has three or four kids, and he asks us about our guy. We tell him and then he starts in on the 'are you having any more?' and we said no and the guy looked crushed. Like we kicked his dog or something. 'Oh, you have to have more' he says. 'No, we don't'. I say. God knows what my face looks like, I have a habit of gruesome facial expressions that don't always fit the crime. 'Oh, you really should have more, I keep beggin my wife for another'. I am thinking, 'listen buddy, did you have horrible postpartum depression bordering on psychosis, an infant who screamed bloody murder day and night who turned into a toddler who never looked at you, never spoke, never played with a toy, spinned wheels incessantly who later was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder requiring 19.5 hours of intense one on one service at your home in which you became a virtual prisoner, except for the twice weekly jaunts to the o.t. place? Did you become an obsessive parent constantly researching diets, supplements, recipes, therapies, etc., till you were on the verge of losing your ever loving mind'???????? Did you? Huh? No? I didn't think so. But I didn't say that. I just said " I am too old for another one". I would never ask another person that question. Gosh, I could have had secondary infertility, no ovaries, or something else wrong with my woman parts that were not any of his business or proper wedding convo.
Then of course this sparked the 'do you want another child?' convo that my husband and I have around three or four times a year. Not really what I thought we'd be discussing on our big night out, while a band played 'hips don't lie'. It makes me sad to know I won't be having another baby sometimes, but I also know it's a choice I made (with my husband)knowing how I am, how our marriage is, and what we can handle. I always hear that stupid saying about 'not regretting a child you had but regretting the child you never had'. I always envision myself as an old lady sitting in front of the tv with an afghan, watching wheel of fortune and just saying "I wish I had another child when I was forty one, why oh why didn't I have another child?". I am afraid I am going to regret it, but then the other intrusive, more real thoughts make their way in the door and I know I made the right choice, for us.

Sortin and classifyin....

2008-01-25T20:17:00.000-05:00

I was watching the wonder that is bubs tonight playing happily in the tub and I felt the strong desire to document it. This is what bubs loves most in the world, to sit in a nice relaxing tub and sort his creatures. He told me he needed lots of bowls to make his aquariums, perhaps that was for my benefit, to try and persuade me of the functionality of it all. To be honest, I am not sure it ever occurred to me that this might not be the most functional way to play, but who am I to judge? Bubs' school has had me on the defense lately, we are struggling with rigidity and control and I am very hesitant about the way they are handling it. They actually use the term 'sabotage' in reference to purposely taking away the control from a controlling child. Yes, I get it in theory, but this is a person we are speaking about, my little sweet little controlling little guy they are messing with. It's been a rough week or so with regards to that. Still not sure how it is going to pan out. I have a team meeting on tuesday, I think I'll have a better idea then.

Back to the bliss- Bubs is very particular about what creatures come into the tub each night and he spends a great deal of time beforehand picking the winners and skimming over the undesirables (and don't kid yourself, one nights faves are another nights duds). He does make them talk to each other and tonight's big feat was making sure they all had a home. Sometimes he even runs discrete trials with them, I love it when he gives them positive reinforcement. Then he lined up all the aquariums into a little train, complete with a little caboose, and I noticed the head car was in a different direction. So clever. Once he completed his masterpiece he called me in ever so lovingly 'Moooooooommmmmm, come and sit on the potty'. I told him I was so proud of him I had to take a picture, so I did.

Intervention

2008-01-24T14:12:00.000-05:00

Ok, it's official. I am a Jenny Craig dropout. I cannot say that I didn't give it a chance though. I started it in the beginning of October and hung in till now. I did manage to lose 12 lbs, but that ain't enough to justify the bucks it's costing me each week. I think I had an epiphany the other day. The key to losing weight is eating less and exercising more. Gee. Do you think I should get a patent on that idea? Somehow, I thought Jenny held the keys to the skinny kingdom, little did I know all she had to offer me was some frozen mac and cheese and mealy tasting vitamin bars. I realized recently that my half assed attempts at losing weight are not healthy for me, mentally and physically. I really have to get my mind straight in order to do this, and when (not if, I am affirming here, people!) I do , I don't need to spend large amounts of money on sub par food to do so. I did think it would help, maybe it did in some weird way.
So last night, I kind of felt a huge sigh of relief when I realized I didn't have to walk through the doors of the 'center' and feel like a big fat failure. That was my first thought. My next thought was, let's eat. Ok, I know that's not really a healthy way to proceed, but I have been really struggling the last few months and I am incredibly sick of eating pre packaged meals. I have to watch this though, I think I border on addiction when it comes to food. As soon as I decided I wasn't going back there, I made a mental list of all the things I would like to eat before I start the next phase of this journey. In my mind, I went overboard (and I had a few too many trader joe oreo's in the process). I was reminded of that scene in "Leaving Las Vegas" where Nicholas Cage's character decides he is going to drink himself to death and goes to that liquor supermarket and loads up on his poison. I know the first step in addressing a problem is realizing you have the problem in the first place, correct? I know I have been stuck on this step for quite a while now.
I did treat myself to Panera today for lunch. Ooooh, I have missed them so badly. I used to make a weekly date with myself to go and get a 'you pick two' combo and a huge refillable diet soda and sit there with a book and feel like a college student again. Jenny said I had to stop, so I did, even though a small bowl of soup and half a sandwich shouldn't be considered 'cheating'. So screw you Jenny, I am going back to weight watchers, I miss those damn points. I thought I would never say that. Now I just have to screen my calls because I know Jenny is going to be calling me (agressively).

Ducks in a row

2008-01-22T21:07:00.000-05:00

I am not a puzzle piece kind of person, and I usually don't wear any 'autism gear',but I really liked the sentiment expressed by this one. My sister gave it to me and she got it from cafe press. I wore it for the first time today. When I got my son off the bus this afternoon, the first thing he said to me was 'I like your shirt, mom'. Now I really love this shirt. Either my son is incredibly perceptive, or he just liked the cute ducks. I prefer the first one.

Don't worry about a thing...

2008-01-18T08:18:00.000-05:00

I feel like a big downer lately. It's a valley right now. Peak must be imminent soon, that's the cycle of life, right? It's usually around this time that I will hear 'Three little birds" on the radio and have some kind of epiphany.
I just started reading this book called "When things fall apart" by Pema Chodron. She is the first American woman ordained as a Buddhist Nun and she is a teacher at Gampo Abbey in Nova Scotia. I looked it up to see if I could perhaps pop in there for a weekend or so, to you know, get some inner peace. You have to commit to at least 6 months and probably shave your head. I will just try and read the book for now. While the book has a pretty grim title (and I have to admit, that is what drew me to it) it's about finding some sort of peace in the midst of turmoil. It's very simple and very difficult at the same time. I used to read books like this back in the day, all the time. Like candy. I just don't think I ever really absorbed any information from them. Plus the fact that while I have had serious bouts of depression and anxiety in my life, things really got monumental after I had a child. It's like whatever I felt before, intensified ten fold, both the joyful and the sad. So I guess, this book is all the more relevant to me now.
The thing with my husband is ok for now. Some lines of communication have opened. It will be ok. My bubs, well he is having some problems right now at school. Not sure if I am happy about the way the school is handling it, not sure how I am handling it. I realized last night while therapeutically crying my eyes out watching 'Celebrity Rehab', that this is just the way things are right now, I am fearful, it's making me sad, but I am not always going to feel this way, I am not alone, and this too shall pass.

Home from the theee a ter.

2008-01-13T21:24:00.000-05:00

So we went to Ice Capades last night and we survived. I tend to look at these events as a risk, purely because I carry my own expectations of how things should go, how bubs should be, and generally, that's not the best way to take a risk. I guess I tend to take 'calculated risks'. That's only fair when the expectations are on me solely, not on another human being, particularly a little unpredictable four year old human being.
Putting my neurosis, expectations, yada yada, aside, I think we all had a great time. Bubs was entranced by the whole newness of it all. Going out after it's dark out, to a huge arena, the vendors (oh the vendors!) and all the people. As soon as we got in the doors we located the essential angler fish flashlight (a total bargain at only 18 dollars!). Then on the way to our seats, bubs asked for a sno cone in the collectible nemo cup. I had no idea he even knew what a sno cone was called. So ten bucks and one uneaten drippy sno cone later, we headed to our seats. Once seated, bubs was so excited to see all the people, not knowing what to expect. I was really afraid he wouldn't be able to sit, it's really hard for him to sit still for longer than, oh , two minutes. He did great with this. Once the show started he really seemed to be enjoying it. I think it confused him when everyone clapped after the first big number. He asked if it was over, which I thought was a valid question although I was afraid it meant that he wanted it to be over. He knows the story of Nemo, we can all quote lines from it because it was bubs' first introduction to the wonders of the sea. I don't know if he was following the story line, but he knew all of the characters. So yeah, I think he liked it, no tantrums were thrown, even when he asked for cotton candy (with the collectible nemo hat attached) and we politely declined. Not a verbal protest in sight. There was a little stimming, which is my fault because we need to get him a haircut. He has been shaking his head from side to side to feel his hair move and then visually tracking the bangs, which are too long. That can be taken care of quite easily and it will a.s.a.p. But that was it.

As far as the show goes, I have a very soft spot in my heart for Nemo- my bubs is my little nemo with his one short little fin. I also relate well to Marlin, we think alike. I got a little teary in the beginning of the show realizing that we were sitting there doing something I never thought we'd be able to do. I also got a little teary when Nemo and Dory were stuck in the mouth of the whale and Dory said that it was time for Marlin to let go. I agree with her.

Just keep swimming...

2008-01-12T17:13:00.000-05:00

On a lighter note, in about a half an hour we are packing up the family unit and heading on over to our local arena for a rousing night of consumerism! We are going to see "Nemo on Ice". It's uncharted waters for us with regards to shows and stuff. The last time I attempted this was when bubs was 18 months old and we went to see some elmo fiasco. Bubs was watching tv one night and a commercial came on for the ice capades and he expressed interest in it. So I took a chance and got us 3 tickets for tonight. Considering the most exciting thing we do as a family these days is food shopping, I have been really looking forward to it. I think Bubs is too and I really hope he enjoys it! I hear they have an angler fish flashlight, which will be one of the highlights (hmm, no pun intended) of the evening.

Someone give this lady a xanax-STAT!

2008-01-11T21:04:00.000-05:00

Ok, it's official, I have lost my ever loving mind. Let's preface this by saying it's been an unusually emotional day for some reason (is mars in retrograde or something?). Bubs goes to a 'typical' preschool three afternoons a week, with one of the assistant teachers going with him as a shadow. It must be said that this girl is a sweetheart, we love her, she is awesome. I am not particularly close with any of the moms, it's probably me and my neurosis, but I much prefer school socializing with my autism peeps. It might not be outrageous to say I have a wee chip on my shoulder, or perhaps I am just defensive. I am working on this as a person. I think I need to heal a chakra or two. At any rate, I just go and pick him up and get the hell out of there as fast as I can.
Today I was waiting on the line in front of the classroom to pick up bubs. Usually I am first, but today I wasn't. There is a little counter with the kid's mailboxes on it. Each kid has a little slot. I notice that all of the slots except for two have what look like party invites in them. I look and look and I notice that my bubs and this other kid don't have invites. The other kid happens to have a few issues (not dx with anything), but I know this from bubs' shadow that he has some trouble getting along with others. So at first a slight panic comes over me. Then I get angry, then I get hurt. How could these mean cruel mothers do this to MY SON! I am serious when I say that I had tears welling up in my eyes. I finally get to sign my precious child out of this godforsaken class and I was doubly relieved to see bubs' shadow give me the thumbs up signal from the corner of the room, letting me know that he was a 'good listener' and we could proceed to Michael's (arts and crafts store) to pick out and purchase desired reinforcers (today's pick was a gila monster and an octopus).
So we hustle out the door and I strap bubs in and wait patiently for beloved shadow to come out after all the parents have left the parking lot. I wonder if this is really worth the effort to continue this little charade at this point. I am trying to hold my tears back when I say 'I noticed the other children got party invites and bubs' cubby was empty'. She proceeded to pull out the invite out of her pocket and said that she held it for bubs because he wanted to open it and she didn't want him to in class. I felt like a big stupid ass. I also said I noticed 'the other kid' didn't get an invite either and she said it was his party. Duh. Big freakin DUH. I then went on to apologize and tell her that she must think I am a total nutjob. She being the complete angel that she is, smiled and told me she couldn't even begin to understand what I am going through and that she knows how worried I am. She told me that none of the kids would ever exclude bubs from a party and that they all love him. I just kept on feeling like a big ass.
I seriously need to start meditating. Not to get all new age on you, but this kind of thinking brings you nothing but bad energy.

My spirtual game of whack a mole

2008-01-11T11:49:00.001-05:00

I truly believe that everything happens for a reason. Perhaps that is my faith, my religion or my reason for getting up in the morning, what have you. I struggle with control issues, big time. I know I have passed that trait on to my son. I have managed to get by, and I worry about how he is going to fare in this world. Not just because of his control issues,and somehow- asd aside (if that could ever be possible) I think it's a mother's job to worry. It's amazing since I am also a black belt at worrying, that I never really considered before becoming pregnant,the entirely vast realm of worry I would encounter as a mother. Ahh, who am I kidding, you could never prepare for this.
I think I am freaking out because kindergarten is looming on the horizon and I can't tell if it's the Goodyear blimp or a b-12 bomber. I am being told by the powers that be that bubs won't be able to attend his current school over the summer. That wasn't the situation I had in my head. I thought he would continue along and seamlessly transition to his new school in September. Wrong. So this change of plans is causing me much anxiety and all these questions keep popping up in my head regarding what the hell is going to happen for us. I am constantly having a mental argument with myself, like a mini cpse meeting going on with me coming up with all of these reasons why bubs needs to have his summer services. This in turn is causing me to focus in on all of bubs's weaknesses instead of strengths which in turn is causing me great angst. He is doing so well, working so hard and yet I am unable to remember the specifics of those at this particular moment in time. I am too busy seeing him lose his shit during his after school gym class, and not be able to sit in one place longer than five seconds, and shake his head back and forth visually tracking his bangs on his face. Agggggh, I hate this. Hate this!!!!

My poor bubs. I have got to get a grip on it. Yesterday he got off the bus so distraught. He usually skips off the bus and asks 'where are we going today?' but he was unusually quiet and reserved. I asked him how school was and he didn't say anything. I asked again (I guess that's where he gets it from) and he said 'I wasn't good at circle time today, I didn't get treasure box, I was sad, I cried'. My poor bubs. I think he too is feeling the pressure. I tried to get more info out of him, mainly if he was a good friend. I wanted to make sure he wasn't 'cha cha-ing' his friend or knocking down their block creations. He said he was. I later found out he was running around like a loony bird during musical chairs. The big problem came when they told him he wasn't getting treasure box. He flipped out. I think that is what he felt most bad about. While I felt terrible about this, I had to stop and remind myself that a year ago he wouldn't have been able to tell me that he actually went to circle time let alone how he felt about it.

My son has an internal cha cha

2008-01-07T19:00:00.000-05:00

I don't know if I can explain this correctly. People that know bubs know exactly what I am talking about when I say he has an internal cha cha thing happening. It's like he has his own rhythm or pace and it's kind of like his own internal metronome. It starts at six a.m. when he is laying next to me on the bed completely incapable of not hitting or tapping me, to the ever present 'da da da-da da -dah'. I cannot seem to get him to stop smacking me around. It's really driving me nuts. It's not in anger, it's just something he does. I probably said 'stop that' too many times and it has now been elevated to 'attention seeking' status which is a royal pain in the ass to get rid of. Ok, so after I have been sufficiently abused out of my sleep deprived coma, we come downstairs and on the way down the steps bubs is singing a song, what kind of song you ask? Well it's a made up song, consisting of one word sung to the rhythm of da da da-da da dah, this morning in particular it was 'welcome welcome wel-come'. It seems to be pervasive (how's that for a word). We even have one for 'pee pee on the pot-ty'. I was thinking about this today, and wondering if I had some kind of internal theme happening for myself. Mine is like something that is need of new batteries, like the clock that runs really fast and then the next moment really slow. I guess I have a wonky metronome running my show. All I know is, there's no cha cha goin on.

'I'll be playing here all week'-vol 2, the junior version

2008-01-05T23:31:00.001-05:00

My son likes to get up at the ass crack of dawn. He does not take after me in this respect. So this morning at 6 a.m. I am awakened by a figure standing very close to my head. Oh, I know that kid. So I scoop him up and place him so Oedipusly (or 'Electra-ish, whichever made up word you prefer) in between me and the husband. He is squirming and moving and tapping me and singing. He is basically trying anything to get our attention. Finally after a nice long thirty seconds of silence, we hear 'knock knock'. I know I am half in a coma, so I can guess big daddy is as well. 'Um, I said, knock knock', the little voice in between us says. 'KNOCK KNOCK' , one last time, slightly louder than the last two. So we oblige- 'who's there?'. 'Orange' he says. 'Orange who?', says us. 'Orange you going to get up and play with me?'. Perhaps I should teach him my tom jones joke?

I'll be playing here all week

2007-12-31T22:53:00.000-05:00

My brother in law told me a joke. A joke that I could actually remember and repeat. Ok, here it goes:

This guy goes to his doctor. His doctor asks him how he is feeling and the guy says "I don't know doc, I can't get the song 'Delilah' out of my head. It is driving me nuts'. The doctor says to him 'it sounds to me like you have Tom Jones Syndrome.' The guy is alarmed and he says to his doc- 'gee, doctor, is it common?' The doctor pauses for a moment and says, 'well, it's not unusual'.

Badump bump. And on that note, I think I am heading off to sleep.
Once again, Happy New Year!

Resolutions, we don't need no stinkin resolutions!

2007-12-31T18:59:00.000-05:00

First of all, Happy New Year!!! Second of all, I really am not a huge fan of new year's eve and all it's festivities. I never was and each year this time rolls around and I feel more and more guilty that I am not a party animal. So I will try and embrace this new year with some centering calm and un-self destructive thoughts. I really don't want to think about the dreaded resolutions. Even when you swear up and down that you won't be having any this year, they are still there like the evil thoughts that pop up when you are trying your hardest to not have evil thoughts (does this sound problematic to anyone?). I don't need any help coming up with a list of my shortcomings, especially at the end of a long and exhausting (and sometimes exhilarating and joyous) year. I carry an unwritten list of things I would love to change about myself at all times, it's in my makeup bag with my chapstick.
At any rate, I am sitting here on new year's eve with bubs. He is going to sleep in a little while. My husband has volunteered to work tonight and tomorrow and I am kind of bugged that he chose the almighty dollar over his blushing bride. I guess I should only be partly insulted because we really do need the money although I question if his working tonight would have made any difference in the big picture for us financially. It just doesn't feel right, even though we would have probably fallen asleep long before the ball dropped. I think I am going to make a list of all the things I am thankful for tonight and call it an end to 2007.
Happy New Years!!!!!

It's a fish eat fish world

2007-12-26T21:50:00.000-05:00

There has been a terrible occurrence in our fish tank over the weekend. Almost too horrid for words, almost. Back story-my hubs finally cleaned out our fish tank around a month ago. We have a small freshwater tank which was mainly for bubs to enjoy. Up until the point at which he finally cleaned it, we had an algae overgrowth. Bubs thought it was seaweed, he was so excited. It looked like the scene in nemo where they clogged the filter with the pebble. Once the tank was cleaned out we found the water to be terribly cloudy. Almost so thick you could hardly see the fish. We took a sample of the water to our local pet store, which happens to have an enormous aquarium department (it's a really cool place). They said that there was bacteria in the water and we would have to keep the light off and only feed them every two days. Now, I am no fish tank expert, but in my opinion that seemed a little abusive to me, almost criminal. However, we had faith in our pet store experts and we wanted our tank to clear up.

We have been doing the 'protocol' for almost two weeks and the tank is starting to clear up. But it came at a price. My husband was checking all the vital stats for the tank (temp and water level and stuff) and he discovered a brutal event had taken place. I was taking a shower and he came in to tell me that perhaps feeding them every two days wasn't such a great idea. He found the remains (part of the tail) of a neon tetra in the filter. It seems that one of the 'not so fit' fish succumbed to Darwin's theory in a moment of fish tank starvation. My thoughts immediately turned to that crash in the Andes, (I never did actually see that movie) and I was really disturbed to realize that I am harboring such crazed little creatures in my living room . I was also overcome with guilt that we drove them to it. I will never look at my fish tank the same EVER again.

I am also making sure to feed the little bastards every morning from now on.

A puzzle piece shaped lump of coal for me.

2007-12-20T21:56:00.000-05:00

I am spent. My days are spent cataloguing the already bought gifts, wrapped and tagged as well as the yet to be purchased ones, and the strategy for obtaining these items. I feel like the clock is ticking. My son is really stressing me out. Big time.
Tonight bubs was in the tub, for a really long time. I was hanging out with him and he had a bunch of his sea creatures in a tupperware container. It was also filled with water and perched anxiously on the ledge of the tub. I proceeded to explain to bubs that this was a no go. We couldn't spill the water all over the floor. He appeared to understand me. I went out of the bathroom, but still hovered close by. I hear the lovely sound of water gushing and then a little voice say 'uh oh, I am sorry'. Mind you, I am glad bubs has manners but he says 'I'm sorry' a lot, and only some of the time does he actually mean it. Water was every where. I didn't get mad, and I was proud of myself for that because I am really shot right now. I proceeded to clean up using every available towel. I told bubs bath time was over. He wasn't being a good listener and he had to get out of the tub. At this point my sweet child was taken over by a crazed demon spirit. I couldn't get him out of the tub without hurting him and myself. So I took out all of the toys. He then grabbed the bath mat and threw it in the tub. Ok, I am starting to get a little mad now. The rug was already sopping wet, I threw it in the sink and I grabbed the drenched bath mat. I walked out of the bathroom but stayed right outside the door. I was hoping he would calm down. No such luck. He wanted his bath toys, so he got out of the tub and then I scooped him up and placed him in the living room. He started screaming and yelling and hitting me. Luckily we still have the safety gate up in this room so I closed it up and buckled down in the next room. It really unnerves me. First of all poor bubs was naked and pacing back and forth screaming about wanting to go back into the tub. I did my best planned ignoring yet again. Perhaps my best isn't good enough. This went on for, oh, an eternity. The whole time I started freaking out. What the hell is going on here? I am seriously worried that some kind of new 'behavior' is popping up here and I just start envisioning bubs as a teenager having these kinds of episodes, ugh, it truly is dark and awful. It's like all the good stuff goes poof in an instant.Finally I sensed a lull. He told me he wanted out and in my calm zombie voice I told him I would come in and sit with him. He climbed up into my lap and I hugged him. I hugged him to comfort him as well as myself. He let me put his pajamas on and we went up to bed as if nothing ever happened.
Is it too much sugar? Is it an autism thing? Do four year olds typically throw crazy tantrums? Is it too much santa talk? Ask again later.

The Winter of our Discontent

2007-12-18T08:16:00.000-05:00

My son has been kind of tantrumy lately. It is a big source of worry for me. Yesterday afternoon bubs came home from school (he didn't earn his reinforcer from preschool) and he decided he wanted to go outside and jump on the trampoline. It was freezing out. So we said no and of course the screaming and yelling began. My husband was going outside to finally switch the autumn flag out for the winter flag (I am a seasonal decorating nazi) and he asked bubs if he wanted to come out and help. He said yes and then we had some more behavior. He wanted to wear my crocs outside and kept insisting they were his. Then came the gloves. He wouldn't put them on. I finally got him to concede and he was so uncooperative, I was starting to get scared that he didn't understand the concept of 'gloves', with each finger having a home. Ok, we got through all of that-barely, but he went out somewhat bundled up. Within the next two minutes I hear blood curdling screams. I open the door and my bubs is having a near nervous breakdown over the flag. It seems he doesn't want the new flag. He wants the old one up. Now mind you, the flag was never spoken about before in any way shape or form. No mention of a flag ever. We have had them up since we have been at this house and changed them according to the seasons. Screams. We get the screamer inside lest someone decide to call child protective services on us. My husband makes the mistake of coming in the house with the old flag. Bubs is just beside himself. Of course I am starting to get really worried and all of those familiar 'dark thoughts' come sneaking in the back door of my soul. Let's say I am now perseverating on the perseverations.
Someone else needs to explain to my dear husband that the time to explain the changing of the seasons to a four year old is NOT when he is writhing on the floor screaming in frustration. Chances are, the concept is not going to 'stick'. I do my best to 'planned ignore' the behavior, while being a loving mom at the same time. I am not sure it worked. Bubs carried on for over 45 minutes, the whole time I am hearing phantom sound bytes of 'typical for a child on the spectrum.....'controlling behavior'....'fixations on unusual items'.... yada yada yada ...don't stop worrying about this shit ever....
I went into the kitchen to finish 'cooking' bubs' beloved dinosaur chicken nugget bites and he came in and in the last futile attempts at anger said 'I am mad, mommy... winter is terrible to me... terrible to me!' . It was as if he was summoning up the worst word he had in him (by some miracle of god he hasn't started cursing yet!). I never heard him say the word 'terrible'. He then asked me if we could put the old flag up later. Ahhh, the proverbial 'later', got to love the vagueness of that. 'Sure', I said, 'We will put it back up later' (and I had my fingers crossed that he would forget about it). He happily skipped away and crisis over, for now.

Wisdom

2007-12-12T21:23:00.000-05:00

My sister called me yesterday with a funny story about her son. He is six and is also on the spectrum. She put up her tree yesterday and her husband has this star trek ornament from his childhood. My sister is careful to hide that baby somewhere where her son won't see it. It's actually a little star ship enterprise and it has a button on top where you press to hear different snippets of star trek wisdom. The reason it was hidden was because her son likes to press the button over and over again and script the lines from it. Well he found it, of course. My sister said he could say the lines perfectly in the order that they come out when the button is pressed. If he doesn't understand a word he will 'replace' it with one that sounds appropriate. He is a funny kid, he seriously cracks me up. So my sister hears him say 'live long and eat pasta'. I can imagine Spock saying that sitting at the table getting ready to dig in to a nice big bowl of spaghetti and meatballs, can you picture it?
I will file that one away with 'pirates of the carrots and beans'. My nephew is awesome!