He's a stickler for traditions

Autism has changed just about everything in my life. I have met people that I would have never met, researched more than I ever did for anything in college and learned to be more flexible than I ever thought I would have the ability to be.
As we are making our way through this holiday season, I have noticed more and more how OCD my son has become and how this new development is changing our lives. Or, rather trying to keep it exactly the same.
With Halloween it was the peel and stick window clings. We have had the same ones for years and I do generally put them in about the same place, so this year I thought I would mix it up and bought some new peel and sticks. I'm wild like that.
Stella and I thought we would surprise the boys and have the house decorated when they got home from school.(Really, this was my attempt at not having to decorate the house with all three of my super helpers present)
As Miles came up the driveway from school I could see the panic on his face. He nearly jumped out of the moving vehicle when he saw that not only had we added new decorations, but had moved the location of the old decorations. I spent the next 45 minutes consoling Stella over the destruction of her had work and consoling Miles over the window that I promised Stella I wouldn't let him disassemble.
Later, he dug through the basement until he found the third wooden pumpkin to complete the set from the year before, as I had only brought out two of the original three.
We managed our way through Thanksgiving with little trouble. Apparently, he is not as attached to some of those traditions. We did however, have to say a personal good bye to each and every pumpkin and gourd in the house before sending them on their merry way with the garbage.
Christmas is bringing it's own challenges. You would not believe how difficult it can be to decorate a Christmas just as someone remembers it in their own mind from the year before. He did chill once we got Thomas the Tank Engine safely in his predesignated position. What would I do without Thomas?
I was surprised too when this morning he did not want to go and get the tree because the moon was not out. We did eventually convince him that it would be okay to get the tree in sunlight, but he muttered about the moon the entire car ride and said he was scared when we got to the tree lot.
He is in bed now, after asking for the 5,000,000 time what day it was. He was not satisfied with any answer that involved the word November. Apparently, we can only buy trees in December.
After trying to reason with him and showing him the calendar to no avail, I just proclaimed it 'Tree day' and saved us all a lot of grief.

Then the wrath of God struck the bad Sunday school teacher down...

Oh, Sundays. I have very little affection for Sundays. I wish I could say that I love herding my kids off to church mostly against their will and that I love teaching Sunday school and I get a big kick out of trying to catch up on laundry and I wish doing homework, that has been left for the last minute, with three kids, was a hoot for me, but it's not.
Today church was really bad. We have a new director of children's ministries and she felt the need to team teach with me. I think she was observing me. Awesome.
I struggle 'teaching' in front of other adults. I am not a fan of talking a lot in front of other adults and unfortunately teaching requires one to speak.
Oh, and there is the little matter of how I don't agree with all of the lessons hammered out in the old testament, and I prefer to skim over things rather than explain how God brought his wrath down on those who chose not to believe in him.
When kids ask questions about what happened to all of the people who lived in the city of Jericho when the walls came down, I would rather sugar-coat it, and not explain that as non-believers they met with the wrath of God.
I don't know whether or not I lived up to her standards, but I hate to tell her I have been teaching for the past 6 years because they can't find another sucker, I mean good Christian, to teach.

Anyway. My hubby is face down on the couch. Sacked out. He rolled in from his limo run around 3:30am and then had to play in the band at church. I envy his ability to sleep anywhere at anytime. He feel asleep in a bar once. Not passed out, he actually dozed off while we were with a group of friends listening to a live band. He is a serious sleeper.

I am going to go upstairs now and try to convince Miles that homework is super fun. Wish me luck.

I heart Ben and other random tidbits

I have been trying so hard, most likely way too hard, to try and think of something to write about everyday. I am not doing well.
It's not that nothing interesting has been happening, it just all seems a bit blah.
I did go to a Ben Folds concert a few weeks ago. It was everything opposite of blah. He rocked. I love how he plays the piano. He stands up and well he rocks. We saw him with the Columbus Symphony Orchestra, it was a gift from my hubby for our 11 years of marriage.
Was it wrong that I was crushing on Ben, while celebrating 11 years of marriage to my hubby? I am a sucker for a boy and a piano, or guitar, or violin, okay pretty much any instrument makes me a little swoonish.
Ben played with the orchestra until they tired of him and then he played on his own once the orchestra had retired for the evening. I had an awesome time. Thank you hubby.

This week we had parent teacher conferences. I find it excruciatingly hard to not make excuses for my offspring as I sit across from their teachers and listen to what they have to say about my kids.
Kindergarten is especially hard because they put you in those tiny kindergarten chairs and you are physically and mentally uncomfortable. It's like a crazy form of kindergarten torture.
In truth, the conferences went fairly well. All of the kids have areas where they could use some work, but I have learned to expect that.
I think having kids made me realize how wonderful imperfection can be. My kids are far from perfect and yet I couldn't love them more or be more proud of the people they are becoming.
My oldest can't spell. I have to take full credit for that. I can't spell to save my life. It is like I have a block on certain words and no matter how many times I write that word I am never quite sure how it is spelled.
His teacher said in her opinion by 4TH grade you can either spell or you can't, but don't give up. I thought it was a weird thing to say considering my son is a 4TH grader and all. Thank God, I have embraced imperfection.
Miles just came downstairs dragging pillows and a blanket and he is doing this thing where he has both sides of a conversation. He is saying something about how he is going to sleep on the couch and I am apparently giving him permission, because he just said "Thanks, Mom. That makes me so happy."
"You're welcome?"

The hubby was not supposed to have to work today. Then he had to work from noon until 4. Then noon until 9. Then he called around 9:30 and said someone had called for a limo from 10 until 4. So, he ended up working today. Bummer.

Have your kids started making their Christmas lists yet? Mine have. The top item on Caleb's list is an Easy Bake Oven. He thinks it would be awesome to be able to cook a cake in his room. I love it. He is that kid who can go from talking smack about baseball to making cupcakes in one fell swoop.
Love it.

Daisy Girl

I just dropped Stella off at her first ever Daisy Girl Scout function. She was so excited she could barely contain her adorable little 5 year old body.
I am already much more keen on Daisy Scouts than Cub Scouts.
Stella's first event is the 'Spa-spectacular'. The girls dressed in jammies and the older girls are doing the little girl's nails and toes and giving them glittery hair and such.
When I dropped her off there was a line up of older girls waiting to escort the Daisy girls back to the 'spa'.
They were polite and sweet.
They had fancy spa music playing and everyone looked too cute.
This is a far cry from Cub scouts.
At Cub scouts the boys wrestle and punch and laugh at each other's bodily functions.
Their events consist of things like 'The Cold Toes Camp-out'. Their favorite song is 'Great Big Globs of Greasy, Grimy Gopher Guts'.
I have told Caleb and Miles that I will do my best to make it to this years 'Cold Toes Camp-out'.
Who am I kidding. I am not a girly-girl, but if I have my choice of camping in Ohio in February or going to a girly spa night, you can bet your sweet cheeks I will be getting my nails done by some 9 year old Girl Scout.
Maybe next year boys!

If it itches....

I got a phone call from the school clinic yesterday informing me that Miles seemed to have a persistent itch down south. His APE (adaptive physical education) teacher had brought him into the clinic.
I was later told by a friend who teaches at the school that she indeed saw Miles and Mr. I in the gym. Miles was trying to persuade Mr. I to take a look at his itchy parts and Mr. I was adamant in his refusal.
So, off to the clinic they went.
This is when I received the phone call. The 'nurse' informed me of the apparently unscratchable itch and expressed grave concern.
My thought was, he's a boy, he probably didn't wipe well, he's bored......
When I asked if she noticed any rash, I was informed that she was just a sub and not an actually nurse at all and checking random boys for rashes was way out of her area of expertise.
It was decided that he should be sent home so that I could properly investigate the rash and apply an anti-itchy cream.
My question is what is the use of a substitute nurse if she is not even willing to take one for the team and investigate a little rash.
There was no rash. Maybe some dry skin. Maybe.
He came home. He played on the computer. I think he secretly laughed about the nurse who refused to sneak a peek at his bum. He did not scratch his itch.
I actually wrote a note in his notebook today that if he is to start itching again, maybe suggest that he itch in the bathroom and then wash his hands.
My hubby of course thought it was hilarious and called him Mr. Crabs all night. The kids of course, thought we were referring to Mr. Krabs on Sponge Bob and Stella started calling herself Sandy.
Never a dull moment.

Bad dog, Good Halloween

Some of the neighborhood kiddos at the annual Halloween pre-trick or treat party.


Caleb as a 'killer clown'.

Stella and Miles. Army guy and Flora the Fairy.

My computer monitor blew up leaving me temporarily stranded in the big bad real world. It was not fun.
I am thinking about 'accidentally' leaving my back gate open so my dog can 'accidentally' escape and find another family to torment.
You would not believe all of the stuff this dog can eat. The kicker was last week when I poured myself my beloved bowl of Special K with berries and was distracted by the general chaos for a moment, and he stuck his big mush in my cereal and quickly sucked down as much as possible.
If you see a brown and white dog running down the street, think twice before taking him in.
It will never happen. He has been left out front several hundred times by the kids and he is always there, nose pressed to the front window, "let me in, I'm hungry."
Enough about the dog.
We had a great Halloween. The kids were over their sicknesses and healthy enough to run the neighborhood and gorge themselves on all the treats they could carry.
We actually let Caleb go on his own with a group of kids this year. We live on a big figure eight and they stayed on the figure eight and were generally somewhere within our view. He thought it was the coolest thing ever. The first taste of freedom and a giant Hershey bar. Life doesn't get much better in the world of a 9 year old.
Stella and Miles actually fizzled out after the first loop and asked to pass out candy instead of walking anymore.
My Mom and Sister dressed up like a witch and vampire and took maybe too much pleasure in scaring the kids that came around.
There was one group of high school boys that were dressed as the Jets from "West side Story" and they came snapping up the driveway only to be stopped in their tracks by Mom and Sister, who soaking wet don't have a combined weight over 150lbs, but apparently make for a mean witch and vampire.
It was a good night. Enjoyed by all. Even the Jets, who eventually worked up the nerve to take candy from the witch.