Stuck in the Suburbs

Honda, take this idea and run with it

2010-02-23T17:19:00.003-05:00

I have reached that point of Winter at which I feel I can't go on. I have done my time. Shoveled my drive, driven my kids to the school that is in our backyard because it's just so cold, kept my windows closed and my heater on.
Enough. I'm out. Winter wins. Again.
I can feel the weight of it on my chest. I just want to open a freakin' window already.
Thanks, I just had to get that out there in the world so maybe the snow Gods would turn things around and shine a little sunshine on me.
In other thoughts from my brain. I am in the market for a new mini-van that has a partition between the front and backseats.
How awesome would that be. My kids loose their minds when we get in the car. Before we even pull out of the driveway someone is bored and someone has touched or breathed on someone that didn't want touched or breathed on.
I think I would be a better mom if my car had a partition. I know I would be a less distracted driver.
It's really just a safety issue.
It could be see-through, and I could have an intercom on my side. Just in case.
My husband drives limos and of course they have the partition, which he uses regularly.
Although, sometimes people want the partition down, and then they do things that would make Jenna Jamison blush.
Here is a piece of advice for all of you that may ride in limos at some point in the future. What happens in the limo does NOT stay in the limo.
The limo driver entertains all of his neighbors with stories about you and your crazy porn-star behavior.

Anyway, I digress.
I want a partition in my next mini-van and I think that there would be a market for this. Either a partition or a really long stick that I could use to knock my kids on their silly little heads.

Too funny to not share

2010-02-19T09:54:00.002-05:00

So I was taking Stella to dance last night and because of the crazy amounts of snow we have had lately I was having a really hard time finding a parking spot.
One, because her dance studio is in Uptown which is small, home to a college campus, busy and has mostly street parking.
Two, because apparently people loose their freakin' minds when it snows and cannot appropriately judge distance between parking spaces without the aid of the white lines (which are still somewhat covered with snow). So, even in the parking lots without the lines it some how becomes okay to park diagonally in the parking space.
I was making my third loop around the block and trying to make a left. Traffic cleared and I started my turn when some ass flew out of his spot on the curb and cut me off.
This is the conversation the followed.

Me: Jesus Christ!

Stella: (leaning forward from the back seat trying to see out the front window) Really? Is it him?!?

Me: What?

Stella: Was that really Jesus Christ? I think I saw him too.

Me: Laughing.

Ok. So I don't typically cuss in front of the kids and I try really hard not to take JC's name in vain, but this cracked me up. She was so serious and so excited.
I tried to explain what had happened, but she was just really focused on her Jesus sighting.

--------

The 4year old boy I watch is pissed off because I won't let him play the Wii all freakin' day. He is taking it out on the dog and his sister.
He keeps pushing the dog off the couch and 'accidently' hitting him. I wish the dog would at least growl at him
I am about ready to knock him in his silly 4 year old noggin.
Just another example of why 4 seems to suck ass.
He is also watching Diego and he keeps call him a "not knower", and bitching about how much he has to help Diego do everything.

Tough choices

2010-02-03T10:14:00.003-05:00

Thanks to all for the support offered up following my last post.
The boy that I watch lost his cool again and I made the call to his Mom to let her know I was officially done at this point.
If it was just me, I would have stuck it out with him, but I have to put the safety of my kids and the smaller kids that I watch as my first priority.
Also, his Mom somewhat refuses to address his new behavior that was throwing me for a loop. She insists that it is a natural thing to want to do.
Fine. Agreed. But, as for all things, there is an appropriate time and place.
My home is not the place.
Anyway, he made it a tiny bit easier on me when he completely lost his cool. He kicked and punched the walls and stuck his finger in my face. I could have handled all of that, but then he turned his anger toward Miles.
Sorry. Done.
I wish the best for him. I just know that I have come to the point where I can no longer be of any help.

Some things I have been thinking about

2010-02-01T10:02:00.004-05:00

Just some highlights of what is causing the swirlyness in me head....

The teen aged developmentally delayed kiddo that I watch in the afternoon has hit puberty. He wants to do some things that he did not before. He wants 'privacy' for these activities, but will proceed regardless.
This is problematic for several reasons.
Umm, not in my house. Please.
I have three other kiddos that I watch, plus my three and I don't want to have to explain to them what he is wanting to do. Not yet.
He gets very angry when he is unable to do his business. He has gotten big and has several inches on me in height and outweighs me.
I am afraid it is time to find alternative care for him, but I do feel guilty because for years he has been welcome in my home and enjoyable to have around.
I am not sure how I am going to proceed.

I had a CT scan. I had my gallbladder out a little over a year ago. I felt great, until all the symptoms came back.
I put off going to the doctor, because I was worried.
The CT sucked. They could not get an IV in me. It took forever.
Now I am anxiously awaiting results.
I hate waiting.

I have been doubting my parenting skills lately. Mostly in the 'how am I dealing with autism' arena.
Do I do enough? Could I suck more at getting paperwork done? How much longer can I stand the crazy eye from the nurse when I explain that I do not under any circumstances want any more vaccines for my kids?

So I am doing what I do worst. Waiting and trying not to worry or over think.
What do you think?

If you don't have anything nice to say...

2010-01-16T20:35:00.002-05:00

Did your Mom ever hit you with that diddy?
"If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."
I know I heard it growing up and I say it to my kids. Only I have shortened it to, "If you don't have anything nice to say, shut it."
This is what is going on with me lately. I don't have anything to say. Nothing.
It swirls in the brain, but can't seem to make it to the page.
I'm trying. I intend on being back, once I have something to say again.

Volunteering

2009-12-08T17:12:00.003-05:00

Today I began my journey on the 'kindergarten volunteer' road. And already, what a long strange trip it has been.
Several times, notes have come home that there were still spots to fill in the area of volunteer if any parents would be willing to step up. Against my better judgement, I stepped up.
So today, I loaded up the small one and off we went to do our volunteer time.
I arrived and was informed that my job for the day, if I was willing to do it, would be painting each child's foot and stamping it on a paper for their 'all about me books'.
Let me just say, some kids are much cleaner than others, and some are much less capable of not wiggling than others, and some share much more information about their personal lives than others.
First day out and I already have some serious dirt on some families. Makes me want to accompany my kids to school everyday just to monitor what they share.
We successfully painted 23 feet and took a few groups to the library and sat through one 'all about me' presentation, that made me feel a little bit better about our presentation.
Over all a great day. I think one of the best ways to feel better about your own kids, is to hang out with other kids. It's a little wake up call that you are not such a bad parent, kids are just kids, and painting their feet with cold blue paint will make them laugh. Loudly.

All about her

2009-12-02T14:53:00.002-05:00

This is the very happy kindergartner on her 'All about me day.' She loves days that are all about her. Very. Very. Much.

This is the family in which the Mom is pretending she is not really irritated with the Dad for being late to the 'All about me day.' After all, it's not about her.

This is the boy who insisted on helping make the life size portrait of his sister and then complained the entire time that I clearly loved her more than him because he clearly remembers that we spent way less time on his life sized portrait 4 years ago. Oh, and I purposely made his lips ugly and girly in his portrait just to be mean.

This is the portrait. I think it's kind of cute. Um, sideways but cute.

This is a close up of the curly hair which the kindergartner protested about, as she felt long straight hair would be more reflective of who she really wanted to be.

He's a stickler for traditions

2009-11-28T23:06:00.003-05:00

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...

2009-11-15T13:44:00.004-05:00

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

2009-11-14T22:25:00.003-05:00

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

2009-11-06T19:39:00.003-05:00

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....

2009-11-05T09:38:00.003-05:00

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

2009-11-03T10:51:00.003-05:00

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.

Just holding onto a moment

2009-10-26T11:05:00.002-04:00

This morning I had one of those moments that was just right.
I stood alone in my cleanish kitchen. Clean, if you avoid looking down.
The boys are well and back in school.
Laundry is nearly done.
Dustin stayed home and took Stella to the doctor as she seemed not quite back on track.
I made a cup of tea. It was hot and really good.
The sun is shining really bright in through the windows.
For just a moment everything and everyone was mostly taken care of.
It is moments like this that allow me to keep going.
They may be small and fleeting, but it is usually enough to keep me going.
This just in: Hubby called. Stella has a double ear infection. Yea, something treatable.

The Hiney Flu is Here

2009-10-23T19:50:00.002-04:00

We are on day 10 of our battle with the H1N1 flu. This is not a confirmed case. However, our doctor said that is 'probably' what we have going on.
My Grandma calls it the 'heiny flu'. She is pretty much so deaf and has closed caption on her television. When she sees H1N1, she reads it as hini, and calls it the 'heiny flu'.
I think this may be an appropriate name for this flu, as it has indeed been a pain in my heiny.
Caleb was the first to go down, and he went hard. He ran a fever for several days that reached over 103 and was barely effected by Tylenol. He is allergic to ibuprofen, so Tylenol is our only choice. He mostly just slept, and when he woke up he complained that every part of his body hurt. He looked miserable.
Miles fell next, but went down kicking and screaming. He would take his Motrin or Tylenol and then insist he was good to go. I would find him face down in the carpet a few hours later, burning up, but not willing to go to bed. He would just lay on the floor, near his toys, relentless in his need to play. He told me he was 'broken down'.
Stella was, of course, next and has been very high maintenance. Apparently, the heiny flu had an impact on her ability to walk, because I have been carrying her around the house for the past four days. At least I am finally getting some exercise.
I have washed a lot of sheets and blankets, and powered through many containers of Clorox wipes.
I have been in my pajamas for days.
We have a pile of missed homework to plow through this weekend.
If this was indeed the H1N1 virus, I must say, that it was not as bad as I have heard it rumored to be.
We have the luxury of being close with our pediatrician, and being able to call her on a moments notice helped to calm my fears when fevers seemed to go on and on.
We are now in the stage of, still not feeling quite ourselves, but feeling good enough to fight and whine. Super.
I called my neighbor and talked her into going to a bazaar with me tomorrow. I am pretty sure if I don't get out of the house, I will loose it.
So, that is my plan. Get out. Enjoy the company of an adult. Then come home and finish my fight with the heiny flu.

Can you hear me now?

2009-10-06T14:27:00.003-04:00

There are all kinds of reasons why I hate going to urgent care. My co-pay is higher, the people in the waiting area seem sicker and the doctors seem like they would rather be just about anywhere else in the world.
So, when Miles stuck a bb in his ear the other night, I quickly weighed my options.
* leave the bb and play dumb until my husband is around to go with him and sit in the urgent care.
* try to fish is out myself.
* heck, the Dyson has some serious suction, I could always......
Although I seriously thought about the vacuum and even held it up to my ear to see if it would hurt, (it kind of did). I thought I would rather go to the urgent care to get a bb out than have to explain why my son had a bb in his ear and his eardrum had been sucked from his head.
Also, the other kids knew about the bb, so I figured they would call me out if I tried to play dumb and pass the job to Dad.
Three hours later after sitting as far as possible from all the mask wearing, feverish, flu symptomatic sickos, we got our call to see the doctor.
She came in and I think she was like 14 years old, and she says, "I hear someone has something suck in their ear, which one of you gets to see my cool 'light-saber'?"
I thought she was kidding, but she made no move towards Miles, so I kindly directed her away from me and toward my 7 year old son.
Really? Do you think they get a lot of adults in the Children's urgent care to have bbs dislodged from their ears? Apparently.
For the record, her 'light-saber' was cool. It was a little wand that glowed so she could see into the ear while she was fishing out the bb.
But then she stumped me again when she handed the glow stick to my son. Which he promptly stuck into his ear.
If he busts his eardrum, they better not charge me another co-pay.

This is the story about why I no longer use the 'silent treatment' when I am angry

2009-10-04T23:04:00.002-04:00

In the early years of my marriage I would often use what I thought at the time was a sly punishment when I was arguing with my husband. And in true 7TH grade mean girl fashion I would stop speaking to him.
The silent treatment.
I thought for sure that this was just horrible for him. Having to sit in silence. Without interruption. Watching television without having to listen anything I might have to say.
Hind-sight being what it is, I now realize he probably did something on a Saturday night to make me angry so that he could watch Sunday football without any interruptions or obligation to make husbandly small talk.
I had not yet realized that I was actually rewarding my husband with my lack of ability to share my feelings with him and so was still using this tactic when I saw what I saw.....
On one particular afternoon, still convinced that the silent treatment worked, my husband and I had to leave one of my family functions early to go to a party for a friend of his that I had no desire to attend.
I was very pregnant, very upset, in serious need of a toilet, and then we got lost on our way to the undesirable party.
Cue the silent treatment.
I was done trying to convince him to ask for directions, I was too proud to admit that I had to pee and was going to just let him drive around in circles until we could all agree that he was unreasonable.
I was staring out my window, because that is where you stare when you are riding with someone that you are not speaking to, when I saw it.
A lion. No joke.
A flippin' lion. It was walking along a tree line and appeared to be kind of be stalking something. It was big and I think it was a mountain lion. Seriously.
I said nothing. I was too angry. The silent treatment was in full swing. I just double checked what I saw and said nothing. Too mad to share my lion.
We eventually found our party, I peed, and realized that maybe it was me that was being unreasonable, but I still didn't mention the lion.
The next morning I opened the newspaper to see on the front page a story about a possible lion sighting.
The story reported that a few calls had come into the the police station about a lion. They could not confirm, as no lion had been found.
I called my husband and tried to tell him that I had seen the lion while we were lost and driving around in circles and he was like "okay..., whatever you say crazy pregnant lady."
To this day he laughs and claims he thinks I saw 'something', but the lion only popped into my head after I saw the newspaper article. I don't know if he claims not to believe me just to make me crazy or if he really doubts me.
Oh how the silent treatment bit me in the ass. I chose not to share something really cool in a moment that I was angry about something silly. Bit. Me. In. The. Arse.
My husband pines for the old days of the silent treatment. Now I share how I feel. A lot. Especially during football games.
I try not to hold grudges or get angry about the small stuff.
I actually start sentences with "I want to tell you how it made me feel when..."
The silent treatment did not end immediately after the lion sighting. It took some time to change that habit.
I did change though, and I have the lion to remind me to never hold anything back.
The next time I see a mountain lion in suburban Ohio, someone will hear about it. Immediately. Before the paper picks up the story.

I don't care how thick my skin is, sometimes it just hurts.

2009-09-30T13:50:00.003-04:00

A few years back a pediatrician that we had landed with for the moment and thought, for a moment, we were happy with gave me this less than stellar advice..."Miles is just different. He will always be different. So instead of focusing so much on how to change him, you would be better off just growing some thick skin and getting on with it."
I can't remember what my question was that prompted her to say that. I just remember leaving there with my head sort of spinning, wondering if I should take my kids medical files with me now or pick them up later, because I sure as hell wasn't coming back.
Well her advice was crap. Except for maybe the 'grow a thicker skin' part.
I have found that I have stopped noticing as often when people stare or respond in a less than sensitive way to some of Miles' behaviors.
I don't have the time or really the desire to explain to every person that seems uncomfortable around my kid what exactly is going on.
For the most part he pretty much blends right in and save for some random flapping in most situations you wouldn't even be able to tell that he has autism.
So when I got pulled aside a few weeks ago at his gymnastics class to be informed that they did not any longer feel he was a good fit for the class I was shocked and happy for my thickened skin.
It took every ounce of will power and energy I have to not bust out crying as I was being told that the coach running Miles' class wasn't used to working with 'special' kids. Any other coach would love to have him, but this just is not a good fit and could I please get him out of class now and maybe try back another time for another class, where he might fit in better. He is doing great, blah, blah, just not a fit with this class, blah, not fair to the other kids. Ouch.
The worst part was that when I walked up to pull him out of the class he was fully participating, as he had been each week, and had the biggest flippin' smile smeared across his face.
When I asked him to come on because we had to go home, he responded with,"Mom, not now I am doing my gymnastics."
Thick skin or not. That hurt like hell.
My husband met me in the parking lot. He was coming to take over so that I could head off to a curriculum night at school.
He dropped the kids off with his parents and then went back to the gym to let the staff and owner know what we thought of their lack of sensitivity.
We had after all spoken with them before the classes started about our concerns and we were assured it would be fine.
There is just nothing like the disappointment of your own child to break through even the thickest skin.

The wheels on the bus go round and round.....

2009-09-21T00:04:00.004-04:00

So here is a little diddy that made me laugh after the fact. I was too stricken with anxiety the day it played out to see any humor in it. Now, I think it's kind of funny.
The first day of school the kiddos and I gathered in the driveway to wait for Miles' school bus. He was anxious. I was a wreck and there was a lot of tension in the air. We were strangely calm and ready early. Way out of character for us. As we stood there in a sort of huddle waiting for the bus, this conversation ensued....
Me: Okay Miles, your bus will be here soon. hand wringing
Miles: No Mom. I no go school. hand wringing
Me: School is fun. liar You will be fine. doubtful
Miles: No Mom. I stay home.
Caleb: It's okay Miles. You get to ride the bus. The bus will be so cool. I wish I could ride a bus to school.
Caleb: whispered to me. I hope it's not a short bus.
Me: Evil glare, but thinking the same damn thing.

Now before you think I am a horrible person let me just tell you this. Do you remember those little jerks that you went to school with? They made fun of you for not having the right outfit and they made fun of your bff for her frizzy hair? Well, they also made fun of the 'short bus'. Well, guess what. Those jerks grew-up and some of them had kids and some of those kids go to school with Miles and I don't want them to have anything on him. Not funny clothes, not goofy hair, no short bus.
In case your curious. The bus was medium. Not full size, but not quite short. And he loves it.

Oh baby, that's some big forehead and some mighty fine artwork.

2009-09-15T22:34:00.003-04:00

This post is not about the size of my son's giant forehead as this first picture may imply. It is about the son with the giant forehead and his art work. He took a cool art class this summer that lasted for a week and he just loved it. The classes are run by a small art studio in Uptown Westerville and the kids work on a different project everyday. At the end of the week they get to choose one of their pieces to have framed and then their art is on display at the gallery for a time.

This was his favorite. I seriously thought he traced it at first. The kid has some talent.

Here he is pointing out his Master-piece. He was really proud of himself. Still, he managed to be a goof-ball though.

The piece in the lower left hand corner is also his.

I know it's totally cornball, but it is so awesome to get to see your kid do something that they love and take pride in. He will chatter on about art all day if he can find someone willing to listen. This was his moment, his night, and he really shined. It's good to shine.

I think I am being watched....

2009-09-15T14:11:00.002-04:00

Shhh... I have snuck down to the basement to quickly post that I am being watched.
I started babysitting new kiddos at the beginning of the school year and the four year old boy is totally tracking my computer time.
He says things like "Isn't it your job to play with me?"
When I get on the computer he hovers over me and inquires as to what I am doing and why it doesn't involve some sort of entertainment for him.
I haven't locked him away in the closet yet because, well his mom is paying me really well and I need the job.
Anyways, I am trying to devise a plan in which I have some actual free time during which I can post without my little audience.
Hope to be back soon......

I am still here. Just spread really, really thin at the moment..

2009-08-27T14:52:00.003-04:00

I love referring to myself as 'thin'. Even if I am just referring to my time and my emotional well-being. Myself and thin in the same sentence feels good.
I have been crazy busy lately.
We did indeed lay some floors. Grouting was a bitch. I will post some pictures soon. We put tile in the kitchen, hallway, half-bath and foyer. We put new carpet in the family room. It is the shaggy kind. I love it. I can dig my toes way into it and the kids can flop and watch t.v..
The plan was to put wood in the dining and living rooms. However, I decided that I would rather remove the wall between the two rooms and make it one large space. We were running low on time and even lower on money, so we decided that project would have to wait.
Now I have worn-down ugly ass carpet meeting my new beautiful tile. Pretty.
I made a mad attempt to shove a bunch of fun activities into the last month of summer. August was busy. Fun, but busy. I will fill you in on some of that soon too.
Someone lifted my bank account information when I order supplements for my son online. They drained our bank account. Twice. We were well over $1000 in the hole at one point.
Thanks to my generous donation, I think half of Miami is now signed up for some network called i-friends.com. Glad I could help.
The money, including the hundreds of dollars in insufficient funds fees was reimbursed. Fairly quickly. Woo hoo!
School started. Miles is pissed. He is currently working from a desk in the hallway, as he refuses to go into the actual classroom. That won't make him stand out at all.
His teacher reports that he is doing his work, and comes into the class only when necessary. She is cool with his baby-steps. Thank goodness.
Caleb is happy. Loves his teacher. Loves his friends. Hates that I won't let him pack a soda for lunch.
Stella has her 'slow-start' day on Monday. She and a handful of her classmates will go in on this day to be assessed and get acquainted with the room.
I vote for full day kindergarten and a 'quick-start'. No such luck. She is very excited and already has her outfit all picked out.
I will start posting regularly again soon. I feel the comfort of my routine settling back in. I miss reading what everyone else has been up to. Feel out of the loop. I will be back. (that was said in my best Terminator voice)

Will work for floors

2009-07-29T11:40:00.003-04:00

My husband has officially become a new floor ho. I will pimp him out to just about anybody willing to lay down the cash.
After an old dog, a new pup and three toddlers, our carpet has just had it.
On warm humid days there is a distinct urine smell that seeps from the padding below. I don't want my kids to go off to college only to be reminded of home every time they smell urine.
Okay, so I don't actually pimp him out, he just works a lot. He is a teacher by trade, which leaves his summers wide open for work.
He works for a friend of ours who owns several campus area rentals and he helps with maintenance and such. I use 'and such' loosely. Last week he packed up and discarded 54 trash bags of cockroach infested clothes and household items from an evicted property.
The same friend also has a contract with the Ohio State beauty schools so they maintain those buildings as well.
He also drives the limo, gives piano, violin, guitar and sax lessons, and just this week he started helping at one of the local high school's band camp.
The man is a work horse.
People often ask why he works so much in the summer. The truth of the matter is, we wouldn't make it through a summer with him home all day everyday. We love each other dearly, but who doesn't need a little space. He takes Friday morning and afternoon off, and that is just enough.
We usually have a project each summer that we work on. This year it is the floors.
We have been saving up to purchase the materials, because my Dad will be here in August and he has some serious skills.
I will keep you posted and hopefully have some pictures to show by the end of August.
In the meantime, I better get back to work myself....

My daughter has that crazy ability to always know just what to say..

2009-07-26T15:10:00.002-04:00

Today I was feeling a little tired and bloated. Still on a mission to use the air conditioner as little as possible, I was feeling a bit hot and sticky as well.
So there I was, tired, bloated, hot, sticky....when Stella asked me for help squirting ketchup from our ridiculously large ketchup bottle onto her plate.
I helped her out, cause that's what I do and she said, "Mom. I love you. You are as strong as a hippo."
This of course sent the boys into hysterics and Miles kept repeating through his mouth full of food and giggles, "Mom's a hippo."
As strong as. Let's not leave that out of the sentence thank you very much.
That's me. Super Mom. Strong as a hippo.
Oh, she makes me laugh, that silly girl.

Top Five List

2009-07-25T23:57:00.003-04:00

Top five ways that I make Autism work for our family:

1. When the caller id shows a 1-800 number I let Miles answer the phone. The conversation that follows goes something like this:
Miles: "Hello? HELLO?"
Miles: "I have a Mom. Hello?"
Miles: "Welcome to Miles' house."
Miles: "Ummm, I fine. Yes. I have a mom."
Miles: "DAAAD. MOOOOOM. Yep. Okay."
Miles: "Yep. I find Nemo. Can you say Dori?"
Miles: "What color Dori? Say Blue."
Miles: "Good-bye"

2. I happen to show Miles how he can scrub the grout in the shower with a tooth brush and it comes clean. Occupies his OCD (and mine) for hours.

3. Entertain myself and the kids by allowing Miles to 'flap' too close to the children of overly protective moms at the park.

4. Dad can be easily convinced to eat at Pei Wei due to the GF menu.

5. Great excuse to surround ourselves with cool people who never cease to amaze me with their ability to positively affect my boy!

Just some tidbits

2009-07-11T18:02:00.003-04:00

Since I no longer have the ability to form full thoughts these days, I have some random tidbits to share with the world.
First, get this. My hubby was working last night. Limo run. He called me and told me that his party had tipped him, wait for it, $600.
That's what I said too!
I am starting to wonder if he is offering 'other' services on the side. Hey, if it puts groceries in the fridge.....
The same party booked him for tonight. (should I be worried) They are going to the movies and then 'out'.
Do you remember when you used to go 'out'? You would be leaving and your parents would be going to bed? Crazy.
Speaking of parents... Have I ever mentioned how dysfunctional my family is?
Probably not. We are so dysfunctional that I tend to keep it on the down-low as to not scare away potential friends.
We are crazy, but we love each other. I could do just about anything and my family would be like, "That's nothing. Remember that time when....."
So I was at the mall with my Mom, my Aunt (my Mom's twin) and my Sister. My Sister confessed a big secret over flavored lemonade while we lounged the food court.
My Sister, who is 11 years my junior is dating someone 10 years older than myself. He is going through a divorce, has kids and, best part, it's her boss.
Being as we are, we decided to talk it out right there in the food court, amongst the scantly clad teenage girls and the pimply faced boys checking them out.
At one point my Mom made some reference to having been with a man that had brought out the worst in her.
This caused me to bust out in uncontrolled laughter. I didn't mean to, it just hit me funny. Probably because she has been married many, many, many times. Each husband, save for my Dad, almost worse than the last.
My attempts to hide my laughter were feeble and my Mom started to cry. My Aunt, I swear because they are twins and that is how it works, started to cry too.
It only made me laugh harder.
My sister, who may be the most sane of all of us, could only shake her head.
We regained control shortly thereafter, and gave my Sister some 'sound' advice.
Then we threatened to show up at her work often and with my kids, if she doesn't at least consider our advice. That's just how we roll.
Anyway, if you happened to be at the mall and saw a group of women laughing and crying like ninnies....yep, totally me and my Family.

Pierced Ears

2009-07-03T08:59:00.003-04:00

When Stella was all of 3 years old, she started asking to get her ears pierced. I told her she could get them done when she turned the ripe old age of 5 years old. That seemed at the time to be way far off and I figured by then fear would kick in and we could wait even longer.
Not so much how it happened. The day that she turned 5, she reminded me of my promise from almost two years ago. I asked if she would want to wait another year and told her that it hurts, but she still wanted to get the earrings.
We made a trip to the mall for the big event with Dad and brothers in tow. She took her favorite stuffed cat with her to help calm her worries.

We requested that they do both ears at once, as we did not want to walk out of there with only one ear pierced. And I would have felt really bad if I would have had to pin her down for the second piercing. They did and were very nice.

This was the worst. She looked up at me and mouthed the words, "That hurts!"
I was glad Caleb was there to see this. He has been determined to pierce some part of his body for awhile. When he was about 6 years old our neighbor got her nose pierced. He was so fascinated that he walked around with a round gold sticker stuck to the side of his nose for days.
He is, thankfully, a bit of a pansy when it comes to pain. I think he will be holding off on any piercings or tats for the time being.
I felt horrible when I couldn't make the hurt stop. We ran right across the mall to the Disney Store and bought a new bathing suit. It helped us both.

Now she looks so old. Not quite my baby anymore. *Sigh*

Berry Pickin' Good

2009-07-02T16:41:00.004-04:00

I promised myself that I would post today, whether or not my mind still feels like mush. So here is my best effort. Some words interspersed with photos.

We went berry picking. This is Miles being his silly self. I would check his basket and ask where all his berries had gone. He would show me his mouth and say, "spell tummy, Mommy." That's his way of saying, "Why pick them and take them home when I can stand here and eat them right off the bush?"

This is Caleb, Stella and Ms. Bre. Bre was Miles' preschool teacher for 3 years and Stella's teacher for 2 years. We love her. We can't let her go, so we make her hang out with us in the summer. Really, she is one of Miles' summer-time tutors. She is always willing to field trip it with us and we always have a blast.
Notice the ear-bud protruding from Caleb's ear. He is not in training to become a member of the Secret Service. He IS getting to 'that age'. Lord help me, I can only hear 'Boom Boom Pow' so many times before I want to boom, boom, whack somebody.

I'm sorry, but how could you not love the person that belongs to these legs. She picks out her own outfits and these are her favorite socks. They are black and red with silver dots. They are so Rock-n-Roll, and so is she. As far as she is concerned, they match everything. Don't bother trying to tell her otherwise.

The fruits of our labor. Black raspberries and they are soooo yummy. We ate them over vanilla ice-cream with chocolate sauce.

After a day of berry picking and lunch at Whole Foods, I was feeling all green inside, so we also hit the farmers market. We got honey, straight from the hands of the bee keepers. Goat's milk feta. A savory blend with paprika and garlic and a sweet blend with orange and cranberries. We also snatched up a cherry and hot pepper jam. Seriously yummy.

Splish, splash wasn't planning on takin' a bath

2009-06-27T17:26:00.006-04:00

So my hubby left for his vacation this past week. He left on the morning of my birthday. We had a huge storm that same morning and lost our power.
Just before he left, we still did not have power and so I jokingly asked him if as a birthday present to me would he check the sump pump and make sure the basement wasn't flooding before he headed out.
Our basement has never been so much as damp.
It had flooded.
My hubby must have made 50 trips up and down our stairs hauling 5 gallon buckets of water before the power came back on and the water began to recede.
I sent him on his way to the Great Northern Wilderness and proceeded the clean-up without him.
The laundry room was hit hardest. It was, of course, Am-Vets pick up day and I had sorted through several bags of clothes to give for donation. Thankfully the donation stuff was already bagged and I was able to just chuck those out onto the front porch. The rest of the piles did not fair so well.
All in all it was nothing a lot of laundry and some serious steam-vac power didn't fix.
I set up probably seven fans in the basement to dry out the rest of the dampness in the carpet. The thought of mold gives me a serious fright.
So, while it didn't qualify as the best birthday ever. I am sure it could have been worse.
The kids were awesome during the whole thing and even sang me the happy birthday song while we ate frozen pizza for lunch. What more could I ask for.

Let's get Physical

2009-06-15T12:05:00.004-04:00

When my hubby was lamenting over the recent loss of his regular workout partner, I threw out the idea that maybe I could take his place.
My hubby gave an enthusiastic acceptance to my offer. So enthusiastic in fact, that I am starting to doubt all those times that he has assured me that, "No you do not look fat in those jeans."
Either that or he just really loves spending some quality time together. We'll just go with that for now.
Today was the first day of our workout. We have a workout room in our basement, so it's really hard to come up with excuses as to why I can't make it. It's surprisingly difficult to lie to someone who is hovering over you with a sweatband and water bottle. I tried. I failed.
The first hurdle was the start time. My hubby is a thirty-something stuck in the time schedule of septuagenarian. In his ideal world we would all be up by 4am, dinner by 4pm and in bed no later than 7:30pm.
We agreed on a 5:45 wake up call and a start time of 6:00am. When I drug my body down stairs and he was doing an annoying bounce around the kitchen, I reminded him that I was in fact NOT a morning person, and could he please stop with the freakin' enthusiasm.
He did and we headed to the basement to start the workout. The next glitch came when he put the channel on 'Sports Center'. One raised eyebrow later, and he switched it up to Animal Planet. Ironically the show was on hippos, and I felt like they were trying to tell me something like "who cares what you're watching, get your big ass on the treadmill bee-atch."
The workout ending up being great. I would have cussed my hubby once when he told me I might want to increase my speed on the treadmill through that particular circuit, but I was too out of breathe to form any meaningful words.
I made it through and the hubby is happy to have someone to workout with again. He is even happier that I agreed to 'Sports Center' for tomorrow for our viewing pleasure. I can't take any more hippos yelling rude comments at me just yet.

A letter to the Hubby. Here's hoping that getting this off my chest makes me feel less bitter and I can stop flippin' you the bird behind your back.

2009-06-12T23:09:00.005-04:00

Dear Hubby,
Your vacation is just around the corner. I want you to go and enjoy your time off. You have earned it. Seriously. Go. The kids and I will be fine.
Don't worry about the fact that you are taking our car, putting a bajillion miles on it and leaving me stuck with the car where the kids all sit in one row and beat each other senseless before we even back out of the driveway. No Problem. We will figure it out.
I hope you ~~fall in the freakin' ice cold Canadian lake~~ have fun fishing with your family. After all, family vacations are important.
The fact that you are leaving on my birthday and not going to be here for Father's day, no big deal. There is always next year.
I am fully aware of the fact that the fishing trip was planned just before we got the dates for the beach trip. You could not control the fact that the dates over-lapped. That is why I am ~~trying my hardest but failing miserably at~~ not holding any of this against you. Even if one phone call to see if the dates would overlap could have prevented this predicament. No biggie.
I'm over it. I am about to get my 'staycation' on baby!
It is true that I get a little tiny bit teary eyed when I see some of these pictures from last year. It is hard to imagine a reason for which we would pass on a FREE stay in a million dollar house on the beach.
Of, course I hadn't considered fishing in cold, damp weather. Apparently, that is reason enough.
Go. Have fun. I really hope you catch ~~the swine flu~~ a whopper. Maybe next year we will make it back to the beach.

All My Love and a good bit of sarcasm,
Your Wife

After looking at these pictures again, I might just load the kids and go without the Hubby.

911 what's your emergency? Sucky baseball? We'll be right out.

2009-06-09T22:02:00.005-04:00

I am always worn out after baseball night, because I expend a lot of mental energy trying not to yell harassing comments at my son.
"Swing the damn bat."
"If you watch one more strike fly by without swinging, you will have to find someone else to pay for Fall ball, because it won't be me."
"Wake up in the out-field."
"I've seen your sister throw harder than that."
You get the idea. I spend a good deal of my time chasing the two kids not on the field around the park and thinking of nice ways to tell the one on the field he's sucking it up.
The hubby throws the kid 800 pitches a night. He hits 790 of them. Still he freezes up in the game and it just gets ugly. Last night, they were behind by one run. Two outs, bases loaded. My sweet boy watched as three strikes flew by. Never swung the bat. Never. Swung.
Needless to say, I was already in a stellar mood when some woman stomped up to me, hands on her hips, "Just so you know, your son just pushed the 911 button."
"Um, okay. I'll talk to him."
"He would NOT listen when I told him to stop. The police will have to come out. You need to wait and tell them what HE did" she said as she jerked her head towards my flapping, circle running son.
"Okay. We'll wait and explain.Thanks."
She stood there staring, hands still on hips, eyebrows raised, lips pursed. I think she was expecting me to give Miles the shake down. Give it to him good.
It wasn't going to happen. I didn't even want to try to explain to this ninny that, oh he's autistic, so he wasn't ignoring you he probably just didn't realize you were talking to him ~~you arrogant bitch~~.
I took great pleasure in watching her stomp off, mad that I had not properly disciplined my little heathen.
When she was gone, I explained the button to Miles. We waited for the police, glad it wasn't a real emergency as he took his sweet-ass time getting there.
We did not get thrown in jail.
I told Miles that he may need to use that button again next week, because if his brother watches one more strike go by and doesn't swing the bat, I just might beat him with it.

Please note that I don't ever actually yell those comments at my son. I just wish I could. I did however really threaten to beat him with the bat. He knew I was kidding. For the most part. Also, I don't take calling 911 lightly. I just didn't appreciate the way the woman behaved.

A few reasons why I love my hubby

2009-06-04T10:38:00.004-04:00

I love him because he is not too cool to play 'Pretty, Pretty Princess'. This game is actually fun and even the boys like to play. We are not supposed tell any of Caleb's friends that he plays the game.

As much as we love the princess game we try really hard not to put any emphasis on how we look on the outside. It's what you are like on the inside that counts. We were at a party last weekend for a First Communion and my Hubby was trying to get Stella in the house so we could go. She was tired and cranky and told him, "No."
A friend of the hostess was standing nearby and said, "Oh, Stella, what a pretty dress you have on. You are so, so pretty and pretty girls don't say 'No'."
Thank goodness it was the hubby standing there and not me. I would not have been able to refrain from some sort of smart-ass comment. 'Pretty girls don't say no'. That might be the worst piece of advice I have ever heard given to my children.
I love my hubby because he waited until we left the party to tell me this story.

The hubby won this round. He is indeed a pretty princess.

2009-06-03T10:41:00.002-04:00

Party day. We always celebrate Miles' and Stella's birthdays together. They are 2 years and five days apart in age. They don't seem to mind sharing their day. So far. This was the first year Miles had true friends to invite. I got all teary with each RSVP. The parents of his friends were wonderful and said how they were always so impressed with Miles and how much their kids enjoyed having him as a friend.

The gifts. Stella loved it. Miles wanted to be done after each gift he opened. We powered through his friends gifts and then let them return to playing. He is gracious and says thank you, but the kid is really happy to just be. Stella and the girls poured over each gift and they had to be passed around so everyone could see and touch everything.

The giant crocodile. It was really cool. The adults thought it would be fun to have a few cocktails and turn it into a water slide. We refrained. The kids loved it. We loved it because it entertained the kids and it was free. The friend who owns the limo company that my hubby drives for also owns the 'Jumpee Thing' company. He very generously gives us our choice of bounce houses for the kid's party.

Miles enjoying the crocodile. At the end of the day, I scrounged up some left over hot dogs and reheated some corn on the cob for the kids to eat for dinner. Stella declared it to be the best part of the whole day. Go figure.

Yawn

2009-06-01T21:57:00.003-04:00

I am wiped out. Physically, mentally, just done. I can not wait for school to end. I have myself convinced that once school is done for this year I will suddenly regain some of my energy.
Something has been sucking my life-force lately. I have had decisions to make and therapist to line up and summer camps and swim lessons to schedule, and I can barely do it all.
I finally went and had my second blood draw last week. Apparently, not all is completely well with my hemoglobin. Is that right? Hemoglobin? Something was off. Looks like anemia, but my iron was okay. I don't know?
I think this may be part of the reason I am so tired all the time. Really. Freakin. Tired. Today I was cleaning up books from the floor and thought I would just rest my wee head for a moment. Sound. Asleep.
I am just scooting by for now. I have some great pictures to post, but not so much the gumption to do so. I will soon. Once I have rested my wee head some more.

Happy Day

2009-05-20T10:00:00.002-04:00

Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Stella. Happy Birthday to you. Do you think she enjoyed that cake?

It is hard to tell from these pictures, but the morning of Stella's party she fell head over heels down our unfinished basement stairs and landed on the concrete floor. 911 had to be called. They sent all of the big fire trucks plus the ambulance. She was fine. She had a huge bump on her forehead. It was so big, it really just looked like she had a giant forehead. She has a dent in her forehead still today.

I love this little person. She is an absolute joy. She was so excited about her big day today. When we walked into her preschool classroom this morning, they all yelled "Happy Birthday." Made her day.

Life is Just a .....

2009-05-18T10:21:00.003-04:00

Well. What did you expect. These cherries cost me almost $6. Stella saw them and had to have them. I even tried to bribe her with a free cookie from the bakery. She has ALWAYS wanted to try cherries. Now she has.

If only my bathroom smelled this good all the time

2009-05-17T22:26:00.002-04:00

I have issues with air fresheners. In general they give me headaches and make me nauseous. I also have issues with the urine smell that tends to linger in our bathroom. They bathrooms smell good for a few hours after a thorough cleaning and then the urine stench slowly creeps back into play.
I win this battle for just a few weeks out of the year while my lilac bush is in bloom. It is one of my favorite smells. No headache, no nausea, no urine. Lilacs.

This makes my happy. I planted two more lilac bushes today. That made me happy too.

So you say it's your Birthday....

2009-05-15T21:43:00.004-04:00

These kiddos have Birthdays this week. Miles' is today. He is 7 years old. *big sigh* He has always worked a special kind of magic in my life. Could they be any cuter?

We thought Miles might never part with his pacifiers. He used to keep two in his mouth at once and one or two in his hand. He would rotate them in and out of his mouth. At night he would have at least two in his mouth and he would tuck the extras, oh yes. Between his toes. Yummy. Of course he did give them up. Now it makes me sad to think we were in a hurry for him to do so. *Another deep sigh*

Thomas. Our love/hate relationship continues to this day. I can't believe this kid is 7. I still have that shirt tucked away. It was one of his favorites.

It is hard to imagine the impact these little people will have on your life when they first get here. I know it is a cliche, but I love them more everyday. I wish I could go back and convince myself to slow down. Enjoy the little moments. I hope I can remember that tomorrow when I am not feeling all mushy inside because one of my babies just turned 7.

Game on

2009-05-15T21:00:00.003-04:00

Every year when the unofficial kickball season gets underway in our neighborhood I know that summer must be around the corner.
I don't know if this is just a phenomenon that occurs here in our little patch of the world, but the kids in this neighborhood take their kickball seriously.
Once the days get longer and the sun is stretching itself into the post dinner hours it's game on. At least a few nights a week there is the inevitable knock at the door and behind that knock there are a couple of kids letting us know that it's game night.
The scene is as about as 'Leave it to Beaver' as you can get. Kids running up and down the street gathering in the 'green space' within our circle of homes.
I need to get pictures. There are usually 20-25 kids and a handful of adults. The sight of it all makes me want to sit down with a slice of apple pie in one hand and a sparkler in the other and belt out my own off-key version of 'God Bless America'.
The usual routine is that Caleb plays and Stella,Miles,Dad and I are in the cheering section.
Unfortunately, during the last game, Miles decided he wanted to play. This was unfortunate only because that meant I had to play with him.
Did I mention that these kids take their game seriously? Did I mention that it is shocking how fast an 8TH grade boy can throw a playground kickball? Did you know that in kickball it is perfectly acceptable to tag a running player out dodge-ball style?
Super.
Being that I am always supportive of Miles efforts to join in any activity, I only felt mildly guilty about trying to discourage his desire to join in the kickball game.
Yet, my warnings went unheard and before I knew it we were up to 'bat'. He understood the kicking. Not so much the running of the bases. This was where my super sweet kickball skills were put to the test.
We ran the bases hand-in-hand. He cracked up the entire time. I prayed to God that I would not get tagged in the back by one of the 8TH grade boys, who apparently have caught on to the new steroid craze.
The other kids were awesome. They whole-heartedly included the both of us. They let us run the bases unscathed.
Other than being reminded once again that I need to get into shape ( I was totally huffing after my base running) it was a really fun time.
I wanted to keep playing, but Miles apparently got it out of his system and was happy to return to the cheering section.
I was afraid the kids wouldn't be as kind to me if I was running the bases solo, so I returned to the cheering section with Miles.

Just one more Piece

2009-05-08T15:08:00.002-04:00

This is my Daughter.....

This is my Daughter on ~~crack~~ Easter candy....

Any questions?

Can you find my Puppy?

2009-05-06T14:14:00.001-04:00

Just in case you have ever wondered where you should hide if the very scary broom falls very close to you while you are doing nothing more than minding your own business. It's a scary world.

Brave People give me Hope

2009-05-03T12:01:00.003-04:00

It seems a lot of people around me have been brave lately. People continue to amaze me. Amaze me so much that I think I can be brave too.
The times that are so bad. So horrific. That we would rather not remember. Not even that can keep a survivor down. The survivors always find a way to bounce back.
Whether it takes 2 hours or 2 days or 2 decades, climbing out of a pit that you have been thrown into can be excruciatingly difficult. Sometimes just when you think you have climbed out something happens and you slip back down a little.
There are things in my past that I would rather just forget. Forget. Move-on. Keep going. But, there is always that tug at my memory. Sometimes it is just a tickle and sometimes it is a full tug-of-war. Memories fighting the desire to forget.
I am encouraged by those around me. Some have come face to face with that which pushes them down. Some have made moves to leave behind that which frightens them. Some have come to terms and moved forward. All brave. All encouraging.
Bravo to the brave souls. Thank you for the encouragement. My prayers are always with you.

The Newbies

2009-04-30T10:37:00.004-04:00

So, I got the first day of the newbies under my belt and it was not so bad. I went into a cleaning frenzy the night before, because that is how I deal with stress. Throwing back too many drinks, which is how I used to deal with ~~stress~~ everything, is just no longer workable. Now when the going gets tough, I vacuum. I don't know. It works. The bonus is a relatively tidy house.
Upon drop off of the newbies, their mom informed me to keep an extra eye on the boy. He likes to bite his sister. She went on and on about the boy and watching out for his behavior. After an hour with the newbies, I wanted to bite the sister too.
I wonder if we (parents) all see our kids through this parental fog? Had mom never noticed the fact that sister grabs and hits and bosses to the point that I could hardly blame the brother for wanting to sink his teeth into her?
I know I have been guilty of the parental fog. I tend to jump right on Caleb regardless of who may be at fault. Then I say something ridiculous like, "Well, you should just know better."
Maybe he should 'know better', but how many times can you be expected to listen to your little sister sing the Daisy sour cream commercial jingle before you just have to punch her? Seriously. If he didn't I might have.
I try to be 'fair' and see the kids behavior for what it really is. It's hard. I try to hold Miles accountable for all of his actions, but find myself sometimes making lame excuses. Autistic or not, there are some things that you just can't do.
I make excuses for all of them. Caleb is the instigator and so dramatic, Miles is the over reactor, Stella is the button-pusher and informer. I have pigeon-holed them. Labeled them. I wonder if I have it right, or am I missing the big picture.
Well, I refrained from biting the sister, but she had to hear my speech about good choices. Poor girl.
I also told mom that the boy was great, but sis needed a little re-direction. She was shocked.
I am going to try and slow down next time I point my finger at Caleb and automatically accuse him of 'starting it'. Maybe I have been too deep in my parental fog to see what is really going on?

It must be Laundry day.

2009-04-27T17:20:00.004-04:00

My hubby announced that he did not have any clean undies. This morning. At 6am. He also said he could not find two movies that were over-due from the library.
He woke me up to make this announcement. I am NOT a morning person. I am at best a morning person in training.
It sort of comes with the territory of having kids. You become a morning person or you spend a lot of mornings being really grumpy. I am learning. I am a more willing learner when people wake me with hugs and kisses. Not as willing when woken with stories of dirty underwear and missing movies.
I love when people call me at like 9:30am and ask if they woke me. Right. I wish.
Anyway. I offered up a pair of my undies. They were boy-shorts after all. He opted to wear the underwear from last night. Post-shower. Thank goodness.
I went to 'find' the movies that were missing in action. They were by the television. Surprise. My hubby was born without the 'looking' gene. Whenever he is missing something he comes right to me to help him find it. I swear if I go first he will have to re-marry immediately just to have someone help him find stuff.
This morning after being woken-up and feeling grumpy I told him that I would wash his under-roos if I could manage to find them.

That Could not be my Child

2009-04-25T20:04:00.004-04:00

I had one of those moments the other day when your kid is doing something so unbelievably horrible that you would really just like to walk away, but know you have to step up and claim said child in front of a bunch of parents giving you that 'my child would never' look.
Stella was having a fantastic soccer game. As fantastic a soccer game as 4 and 5 year-olds can have. She had scored two goals and even though we don't keep score, we were squashing the other team.
My hubby, the coach, of the 'Rocket Cars', was doing his best to pump up both teams and minding to his coaching duties, when I look up to see our sweet princess wagging her little finger in the faces of the other team, one hand on her hip and she is singing, "You guys are loooosers, yes your just loooosers."
Crap. I can handle wrestling, tantrums, potty talk, back talk, and most anything else my ~~heathens~~ children throw my way. I DO NOT tolerate bullying, name calling, bragging, gloating or other similarly offensive behaviors.
She came off the field. We had a 'team meeting'. I reminded her of when the dreaded 'Sharks' beat the 'Rocket Cars' silly last season. We remembered how lousy that felt. I think she felt genuinely apologetic.
When we headed to soccer this morning she said,"Mom. Even though we are going to beat this team too, and I am going to scores lots of goals. I won't tell the other team they are losers. They'll just know."
Sigh. I have to admire her confidence.
They tied the game. She was without a single goal. She was a good sport.
I think this is one of the best reasons to start kids playing sports young. They learn to loose. They learn to tie. Maybe most important, they learn to be good winners.

Is He Walking a Little bit Funny?

2009-04-24T10:57:00.003-04:00

So the pup got neutered this week. He seems fine with it. Although a few times I have noticed that he has stopped mid-stride to try and catch a glimpse of his own rear. I wonder if he knows something is missing?
We had been quoted just under $300 by our vet for this procedure. A phone call to my animal guru sister led me to a 'spay and neuter clinic'. Sweet. $81. Big difference. My hubby kept referring to it as the 'chop shop' to the point that I was feeling a little panicked. Why would it be so cheap? Did they not give him anesthetic? What kind of barbaric operation is this?
So, of course I made my hubby ask lots of questions before turning over the pup. He said they looked at him like he was nuts. Informed him that it would be a bit cruel to do the procedure without anesthetic and probably called animal welfare on the crazy man with the cute pup.
The pup is home and just fine. Well, walking a little funny, and a bit stinky. I think he will recover. We are not allowed to get him wet for now. Gremlin. We are also supposed to keep him quiet. Impossible. He is about as subdued as a roomful of two year-olds hopped up on pixie-sticks.
After this week I think I am going to turn my focus on inventing a line of febreze-like products that you spray right on the smelly source. I find myself spraying the carpet, curtains, couches, ~~children~~, when it would be much more convenient to just spray the offensively smelling pup. Look for it in stores near you.

At Least the Extra Money will pay for the Groceries

2009-04-23T10:27:00.005-04:00

I woke up this morning with some nausea. I know exactly what it is from. My lack of ability to just say "No."
I think I must have been smokin' some wacky-tabacky because I find myself having agreed to watching two more kiddos two days a week.
I know there are those moms out there who have 4+ children of their very own and may scoff at my shuddering at the thought of having extra small people around the house, but I am shuddering.
Stella is beside herself with excitement. One of the newbies is a little girl. Age 4. Stella's dream date. The other little guy I was already somewhat reluctantly watching is also super excited. The second newbie is a little boy. Age 3. Perfect.
In my defense it was difficult to say no when the mom of the newbies showed up unannounced on my doorstep. (I had been given her number, but 'misplaced' it). Begging. Her sitter decided to only watch kids three days a week. Without notice. In the middle of the school year. The newbies' mom is a special education teacher at the school right behind us. Have I mentioned that I hold a special place in my heart for those wonderful souls who work with special needs kiddos? Sigh. I couldn't say no.
The school year is really almost over. I can do anything for 7 weeks. Stella and the little guy are super excited for their new 'friends'. These are the things that I say in my head to cure the nausea.
I enjoy working with kids. I love helping out families. I struggle with change. The thought of two extra kids being drop off at my home while I am using cattle prods on my own herd just to get through breakfast is a bit daunting.
Once I get the first day under my belt I will be fine. By then it won't feel like change, just routine.

Spring Break: The Recap

2009-04-20T10:47:00.003-04:00

I took a little time away from blogging to hang with the kids during their Spring Break. I did sneak down to the computer a few times to read blogs. I just didn't write anything.
I thought I would wow and thrill you all with a little sampling of what we did with all of our free time. Fascinating, I know.
We of course celebrated Easter. Miles was the only one in the family with enough sense to recognize that Easter in Ohio does not allow for what the rest of the world deems to be required Easter attire. You know, cute sun dresses, shorts, and skirts. Ignoring the weather, as we Ohioans do, I set out his super cute plaid shorts and a long sleeve button down shirt. He came downstairs wearing the cute shirt with some not so cute sweat pants. When I asked him about his choice he said, "Mom, I freezing."
I couldn't argue with that. We did however compromise with a pair of dress pants. I also finally got him to unbutton the very top button of his shirt. My kids have it in their little heads that shirts must be buttoned all the way to the top. All buttons provided, must be used. I, their claustrophobic mother, can not stand the sight of their necks being choked out by that top button. Miles is usually the only one that I can convince that his shirt will not fall off if we leave just that one button undone.
I was very un-Jesus-like when I got to church on Easter and I kind of cursed all of the people who come to church once a year and had the fore-sight to get there early and steal my seats.
I will have to remember to add my name to the prayer list. 'Please pray for Kim. She needs to be forgiven for cursing seat-stealers. Also, for yelling at her kids to unbutton their shirts. Amen.'
It rained for the next few days. We barely made it through. I hid from the children a lot.
Back in March, I used the Jedi mind trick on Caleb. I convinced him that if he waited until Spring Break to have his birthday party, he could invite two friends over AND have pizza AND go to the movies. I told him we would buy him a gift too. He totally went for it, even though we have NEVER not bought him a gift and allowed him to have a party. The Jedi mind trick allowed me to make him think this was going to be something out of the ordinary. When all I was really looking to do was buy myself an extra month before I had to pony-up the cash for the party. So he had his two friends over and they chose a movie that was playing at the dollar theater. Total. Score.
I went to Ikea with my Mom and Sister. Totally fun. I had never been to an Ikea and although I think we pushed my Sister to her shopping limits we had a great time. I got a super cute fish rug for the kids bathroom. $4.00. Set of kids multi-colored drinking glasses. $1.99. I left with a big bag of stuff and only spent $20.00. Yay.
My Mom and I took the kids to the zoo. It was outrageously busy. There is a new baby elephant and apparently most of Ohio came to see him on that particular day. I couldn't justify standing in a VERY long line with my kids get a quick peek at the new babe. We will check him out in a month when he is 100 lbs heavier and the hoopla has died down a bit.
Something else that I noticed at the zoo was that people misinterpret 'wheel chair accessible' for huge stroller and double wagon accessible. I get that families with small children need strollers, but really does your 6 and 9 year old need to be pulled around in a wagon? And how 'bout you keep your dirty looks to yourself when my 4 year old is blocking the way of your ginormous pre-teen whom you are dragging around in a wagon. If he can't see maybe he could get off his butt and stand for a minute. Oh, and by the way, maybe you should move your off-road vehicle of a stroller out of the way of the family that actually needs to utilize the ramp. Sorry. There were some rude people at the zoo.
It was a fun time regardless. The rhino was going crazy. Rolling in a giant mud puddle and running circles around his enclosure. Note to self: if you meet a rhino in the wild don't bother running. They are really fast. We got a kick out of his antics. I think the monkeys were experiencing some spring fever. They were whooping it up as well.
We capped off the week with a party at our neighbor's house. It was great. Lots of food and the kids ran and played and generally wore themselves out.
My hubby worked most of the week. He works more hours when he is not teaching than when he is. The limo business is picking up so he is busy on the weekends as well. We miss him, but we see light at the end of the tunnel as far as the mountain of debt is concerned. And we like to eat, so we encourage his excellent work ethic.

Happy Autism Awareness Month: part deux

2009-04-13T15:15:00.003-04:00

Holy hell. Miles got the memo about it being autism awareness month and he is doing his part to raise awareness.
It has been a flappy, squirmy, whiny, OCD, filled month. And those are just my symptoms.
We need to make some changes and get him back on track. We do a lot of supplementing with him and lately have let that slide. It is starting to take a toll on his behavior. I do like to take him off all of his supplements occasionally and slowly reintroduce each thing. It helps to determine what is continuing to benefit him and what he could maybe do without. It is time to begin the reintroductions.
We also changed our funding from Family Directed Resources to a level one Waiver and in doing so had to change out all of our therapists. We have yet to find replacement therapists.
We were on a wait-list for almost three years for the waiver, which is not bad, considering neighboring counties have wait-lists that run for over 10 years. Unbelievable.
Now that we have the waiver, we are on wait-lists for people who except the waiver. I am still unsure if the benefits of the waiver out weigh what we were receiving through the FDR. I am waiting it out. Don't want to make any quick decisions and end up back on the bottom of that wait-list.
We have a new therapist/intervention specialist coming over tonight. She will work with Miles throughout the summer.
I am crossing my fingers that all goes well. I think it will. We know her fairly well and she is a trooper. We need a trooper.
I have seen Miles drop speech language pathologists like a hot potato. He is a rascal and can put even the best through their paces.
I guess that is one of the things that I love so much about him. He keeps us on our toes.

Shake it off

2009-04-11T18:02:00.004-04:00

I am not going to say that I hit rock bottom on Thursday. That would be overly dramatic.
I maybe just skimmed the bottom. Scrapped my knees.
I had the adult version of a meltdown. There were some tears and wallowing and a great big pity party thrown by me in my honor.
I am hoping it cleared my system. I am regrouping. Shaking it off.
I am not sure what brought it on, but I do know my hubby was on the receiving end of some of it and I informed him that lately it feels more like I have a roommate than a husband. Sometimes this is true. It is not his fault, but that doesn't make it fun.
Every now and then I get swallowed up by the whole 'stay-at-home-mom' thing. I love being here. I think it is where I am supposed to be.
I still miss leaving the house on occasion though. Without kids. Heading to functions that do not involve kids.
Yes, I am grateful that I get to stay home. Yes, I love my kids. Yes, I appreciate all that my husband does. But, oh my sweet Lord I swear my brain is melting into mush on some days.
I have resurfaced. Back from my scrap with the bottom.
There is light at the end of the tunnel.

Bad dog

2009-04-07T13:12:00.002-04:00

I was gone for approximately 25 minutes yesterday morning. During that time the dog ate 5 large granny smith apples. Really? Who eats that many apples in one sitting? He is a glutenous beast.
I called my sister who happens to be my 'go-to girl' for all things animal related. She told me that apple seeds are toxic to dogs. Super. She said he wouldn't die, but would probably throw up. Again. Super.
I spent the better part of the day following him through the house. He never did throw up, but he did crap applesauce. Outside. Thank you, Lord for that one.
I consulted my handy-dandy dog training manual. The book informed me that my dog was not a bad dog. I am a bad dog owner. I should offer him a safe place to be when I am gone. What do they know?
We used to keep him safe behind baby gates. He got too big and just jumped over them. We are going to have to break down and buy a kennel. Can I hear a cha-ching. Kennels are not cheap. I know, I know, we bought the dog and all the responsiblity that goes with it.
On the bright side, I can always double it's use by putting the kids in the kennel when the dog is not using it. They deserve a safe place too.

A good Question

2009-04-06T10:16:00.002-04:00

One of the questions I get most often in regards to Miles is how I think he 'got' his autism.
Was he born with it?
Do you think his vaccinations caused it?
It is the wheat and dairy?
The truth is I am not 100% certain. I of course have my theories. They are not always the most popular theories, but I say until you can show me different, this is what I am going with.
Discussing the causes of autism can become as heated a discussion as pro-life vs. pro-choice. People have their ideas and there is no changing them. No middle ground. Maybe I can see it your way since you have experienced it first hand, not so much.
The fact is my pregnancy with Miles was very healthy and he was born without much fuss and zero pain medication.
He was a happy thriving baby boy hitting all of his milestones. He sat-up, crawled, walked, babbled and would look me in the eyes.
Until he stopped. He lost his babbling and his words. He became cranky and intolerant of too much contact. He did not loose any motor skills, but sought constant sensory input. He head-butted anything and everyone.
All of this happened shortly after his MMR vaccination. I believe it was the tipping point. His body finally reacted and could not take in anymore toxins.
While I was pregnant with Miles I had the much recommended flu-shot. I also had my amalgam fillings changed out for the white composit ones.
It is my belief that these were his first exposures to the heavy metals that his body could not handle.
I know what you are thinking. My kids were vaccinated and they are fine.
Of course not every chain-smoker gets lung cancer. Not every obese person gets diabetes. Every ones bodies deal with toxins differently.
I don't think Miles' body deals well with toxins. I think he doesn't 'kick them out' of his system like you or I would. His body stores them. Unable to get rid of them, they start to create road blocks. They create permanent damage.
I am not a doctor. I am not a nurse. I have done enough reading and research and seeking of answers that I feel confident in my theory.
We did finally find a pediatrician that allows me to have my theory. She agrees to occasionally disagree with me without treating me like I am crazy. She has not insisted I vaccinate my son any further. She did not kick me out of the practice for my refusal.
I promise to revisit the idea of possibly vaccinating in a few years. I run the supplements that we give Miles by her. I listen to and respect her opinion. She respects mine.
It is the best case scenario for us right now. No one knows for sure what causes autism. It is unbelievably frustrating. Not knowing for sure.
We have been treating Miles based on the toxin/heavy metal overload theory. We are careful, cautious and respectful of him and his body. He also gets a lot of traditional therapy. He is responding. Slowly. We are happy with that.

Paying down the Debt

2009-04-05T21:14:00.004-04:00

I bought a purse this weekend and you would have thought I was trying to decide on a new home. I had to make two trips to the store before I actually talked myself into the purchase.
It is hard for me to go out and spend money on something that is not a need, but more of a want.
Granted the cat made a scratching post out of my last purse, and we were not talking a Coach purse, but an on sale off-brand purse. Still it was hard.
We have been trying to pay off some fairly steep debts for the past few years.
The fact is that we have this heinous debt because we had all kinds of wants that we were too impatient to wait for and now all we have to show for that is debt.
After three kids, lots of wanting, and the decision to be a stay at home mom family we were ~~ass~~ neck deep in debt. Staring bankruptcy in the face.
Then my husband discovered Dave Ramsey. We started our 'envelope' system and we don't buy anything unless we can pay cash for it. In the beginning it really sucked. I swear I had Target withdrawls.
The first Christmas was the worst. I cried on Christmas Eve as I looked at what seemed to be a meager amount of gifts. I actually filled my kids stockings with fruit. I thought they would wake up and wonder what they had done to tick off Santa.
They of course didn't. They were just as happy with their much parred down Christmas as they had been with the over indulgent Christmases of the past. Did not even seem to mind the fruit filled stockings.
It is still hard at times. We are closer, but still a few years away from being debt free. It is nice knowing where our money goes. Even knowing that it is going to a credit card company is not so bad when you know you are that much closer to freedom.
When I bought the purse, a very helpful cashier told me that if I opened a store credit card I could save 15%. I told her and would pass and then handed her my 15% off coupon I had received in the mail and paid for the purse in cash.

Happy Autism Awareness Month

2009-04-03T15:17:00.002-04:00

Here it is already April 3RD and I haven't even wished you a happy Autism Awareness month. Shame on me.
We have so much to be thankful for. Our beautiful boy has come so far in the last several years. He has a long road ahead of him, but he has what it takes to rise to the challenge of whatever autism brings to the table. Game on.
He teaches me new things everyday. He has brought a layer to my life that would have gone forever unknown had it not been for this kid. He makes me a better person.
He is funny and loving and consistently wins the hearts of anybody lucky enough to know him.
In an ideal world there would be no Autism Awareness month, because there would be no Autism. This world does not work that way.
I can deal with autism because of him. He makes the worst days worth it. If he can do it so can I. It is with his small boy hand that he reaches out, touches my heart and says, "Come on Mom, we can beat this thing together."

Note to my Children

2009-04-02T10:57:00.003-04:00

Dear Children,
Just so you know, I was not always this crazy. I was, once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away, a lovely woman with a college education and a job outside of this house. I had ~~good~~ okay hair and a waist.
I was also able to shower without anyone busting into the bathroom to announce that someone found a piece of cat poop and ran around the house with it before they threw it in the storage closet in the basement. Why. Why would anyone touch cat poop? Can this wait until I have a least gotten the shampoo rinsed from my hair?
I used to be able to form full, coherent sentences. I did not sputter, or stutter. I did not mix-up words.
No one ever made me so out of my mind crazy that I could not speak. No one ever stared at me blankly like I was speaking a foreign language when I explain for the umpteenth time that it is not okay to sit on your sister's head. Even if it is the only way to get her to stop talking. Not breathing and not talking are not the same. Do not kill your sister. It is not okay.
There was a time when I enjoyed reading and exercising and long talks with your father.
Of course, I was getting more than five hours of uninterrupted sleep back then.
Not one person would come into my room during the night to announce their bodily functions. I did not share my bed with multiple short people. I did not (well maybe once or twice) wake up and wonder where the heck am I because someone had taken over my side of the bed and I was forced to another bed. I did not have to wonder what was making my leg feel suddenly warm. It was never some other persons urine. Never.
When you wonder what happened to your Mom, take a long look in the mirror and ask yourself if it was all worth it. And you can bet your ass I am coming to live with you when I am old and loud and can no longer control MY bladder. Oh, and scoot over because I will be getting in bed with you.
All My Love,
Your Crazy Mom

All hype with no Delivery

2009-03-31T10:40:00.003-04:00

Yesterday we had a new roof put on our house. You remember Ike, way back when? Well, he made his way all the way up here to Ohio and brought some wicked winds with him. A large portion of our shingles were lifted during those winds.
A few months ago we got more wicked winds and lost a lot of shingles.
Hence, the need for the new roof.
I picked up the little guy from school and spent the whole ride home getting him pumped up about watching the roofers all day.
Big trucks and ladders and hammers, oh my! He is a huge fan of these things. I am forced to be Handy Manny on a daily basis.
We pulled up to the house and sure enough there was a big truck and lots of men with tools. Yay.
I have never been in a house while a new roof was being put on, so it came as quite a surprise when one of the first things the workers did was place giant plywood boards over all of the windows.
As the little guy and I stood watching the men with tools we were quickly quarantined from the outside world. Blacked-out.
The little guy looked at me and said, "Is dat awe? Dust duh wub?"
Poor kid, I had him so pumped and then that was all. Just the wood.
We did stand outside for awhile once they stopped chucking things off the roof and we watched. I hope that made up for his disappointment.

He still Really likes that

2009-03-30T10:49:00.003-04:00

My baby turned 9 years old over the weekend. Too big. Too soon.
He had a camp out this weekend with Cub Scouts and came home tired. He fell asleep on the couch with, of course, his hand in his pants.
It reminded me of this story.
When he was just a baby he was at one of his 'well-check' appointments and the doctor was giving him the once over.
I was rambling about whatever, as I do when I am nervous, or forced into a small space with another person.
Dr. Dickey (real name) was checking the boys privates and I happened to say, "He really likes the bath."
What Dr. Dickey heard was, "He really likes That."
He launched into this speech about how boys will be boys. Once they find their penis they don't ever want to let go. I should just be prepared for a life of grape-groping.
Huh? What? It took me a minute to figure out the miscommunication. By that time he had rambled so long about my son fondling himself for years to come, it would have been more embarrassing to correct him.
I just went with it. Listened as the good doctor told me it was normal for my son to play with himself. Super.
I went home and told my husband that our son's permanent medical record was now flagged with a big red "PERVERT" stamp.
Happy birthday my sweet boy. May you have many happy years ahead of you.

My big Night-out: The Update

2009-03-27T19:24:00.004-04:00

Maybe you remember, I had a girls night out last weekend. I gots to say, it was fun.
There was food involved and beer and a man with a guitar. Three things that I really like.
The best part of the night was when the very white, very Dave Matthews and 80's rock ballad, channeling guitar player asked for requests and my friend who had clearly had a few more cocktails than myself belted out, "Fast Car."
He just stared at our table and then asked what part of him made her think of Tracey Chapman. He made an attempt at the requested song. It was funny. He drew the line at a request for Beyonce.
The group that I was out with is such a good group of friends. They are the friends that you can go a month without talking to and then pick up as if you haven't missed a day.
We have seen each other through the general horrors of middle school and high school, the divorce of parents, the ups and downs of college, addictions, the illness and then death of a parent, a middle of college this is so not the right time pregnancy,'almost marriages, marriages, affairs, divorces, second-marriages, new jobs, lost jobs, 18 child-births, too many miscarriages, and everything in between.
These are the women who I may not see everyday, but I will still be hanging with when I am 60.
I have been blessed. With a girls night out and the girls to enjoy it with.

What not to say to the person who is watching your child

2009-03-25T10:58:00.004-04:00

This morning when I picked up the little boy that I babysit his mom said, "I am so happy to see you. I have not been able to handle him since I picked him up from you yesterday. He is just out of control."
Really? Super.
I can say I will return her sentiments when she picks him up this afternoon.

Passing the Love Around

2009-03-24T13:46:00.009-04:00

It has taken me some time to respond to the fact that I got my first award, not because I am ungrateful, but because I had to secretly e-mail another recipient of the award who has admitted in her blogs to having computer skills similar to mine, and find out how to get the 'award' for my blog. Thank you Viv. As if you had nothing better to do between keeping up with your five kids and flooding toilets than to coach me through a simple process.
Big thanks to Jen for the recognition and the kind words. I am so glad that you find me funny. I sometimes think I only humor myself.
I love Jen's blog. She is hilarious and can make me laugh when I need it the most. She is a talented writer and I look forward to reading whatever she has to write for years to come.
The rules of the award are as I understand them to list 7 things that I love and then to pass the award to 7 bloggers that I love. Consider it done.
* I love the beach. I love the ocean and the sand. It makes me feel good. Love it.
* I love a clean house. Again it makes me feel really good. I feel in control of life when my house is clean.
* Chocolate. It is my favorite.
* Quiet. When my kids are in bed or I have talked some poor soul into taking them all somewhere and my house is quiet, I love it. I can think a whole thought without interruption and it is bliss.
*Summer. I am a warm weather girl living in Ohio. I relish the summer months.
*Fall. Just the beauty of it. Also, after Summer I am so looking forward to the kids going back to school.
*A good book. I love to read.
Now for the bloggers that I enjoy. Some of them may not know that I am out here reading their stuff. Regardless, I will pass the love.
I enjoy reading what is going on with Jill. I am a little jealous of the fact she lives in California and I no longer do. However, she always has a good story to share and I enjoying seeing her pictures of warm weather and pools.
Then there is a fine lady over at all this trouble. She cracks me up. I relate to some of her stories and she makes me smile. Also, I love groovin' to her playlist.
I found Maeves Mom through Jen. She is a great writer and always has something fun to share.
Heather, recently wrote a touching story about a big life decision that snuck up on her quickly. I totally related. Great blog.
I just recently started reading Chicken and Cheese, which I found through Jen as well. She has some great things to share and has a way of putting things into a perspective that I can appreciate.
Kim posts great photos and I love to head over to her blog to see what she has been up to lately.
One of the funnier blogs I read is America's Next Top Mommy. She can make me laugh and cry. Sometimes all at once.
The passing of the love is complete. I am so happy about my first award. I hang it with pride.

Girls Night

2009-03-21T14:41:00.003-04:00

Tonight I am going out with my lady friends. Yay. You can't see me, but I am totally doing the happy dance.
I feel like I did back when I was in middle school and my parents would drop my friends and I at the movies. I am wondering what to wear and who we might see.
It is actually the same group of girls that I would go to the movies with back in the day. Only now we can drive ourselves.
I also won't call the girls to see what they are going to wear. I will go with the stand by of my 'nice' jeans and shirt.
I wonder if I could get my Mom to drop my off anyway. Then I could partake in more than one cocktail. Seriously, after more than one I am so not safe to be on the road.
I think I will bum a ride from one of my friends. You can only drive so many mini-vans to a night-out on the town, before it just starts to feel like a PTA meeting.
Cheers!

Random thoughts of the day

2009-03-20T16:23:00.004-04:00

I can get my two younger kids to do almost anything if I offer to race them.
It irritates Caleb that I let them win.
He is almost 9 years old and getting way too cool for our silly races. When the races occur in public it is serious cause for a lot of eye-rolling and head shaking on his part.
He only likes to race if I promise to really try. Little does he know, I am really trying.
------
I noticed that Miles gets away with saying things to me that the other kiddos would not get away with.
It is hard to tell someone that uses so few words that anything that comes out of their mouth is inappropriate.
Today he wanted me to start playstation for him. He said, "Come on now. Lazy bones. I wanted it now."
He's pushin' it.
We do work on appropriate language with him. I promise. It's just to know how far he has come over the last few years is amazing. Sentences like that would have been unheard of. He would have just cried until I figured it out by process of elimination.
------
We had the carpets cleaned today. The only thing that would be better is if we had hardwood floors installed. I know that is way, way, way down the list of things that will eventually get done, so I am really happy about the cleaning.
The red marker spot left by the marker eating pup is now a hardly noticeable pink spot.
------
It is science fair time. Caleb chose the topic 'What is the best way to keep ice frozen?'. I felt this had been covered with the invention of the freezer, but he disagrees. If we find a better way I will be sure and pass it along.

YAZ I can feel better

2009-03-19T10:21:00.002-04:00

I had serious doubts that my moods could be made better by a medication called 'YAZ'. When my doctor prescribed what is nothing more than a birth control pill, with some extra supped-up hormones, I felt that maybe she was just humoring me.
I wish there was an easier way to explain to your doctor that you feel like maybe you could be on the verge of snapping. It seems like I walk the line of telling her enough to explain how ridiculously crazy I feel without seeming well, crazy.
Anyway, I am happy to share that the 'YAZ' is helping, regardless of it's goofy-ass name. At the very least, I must admit that I have had fewer fantasies about giving my kids the smack-down lately.
Caleb even commented that I have been in a better mood.
There have been some 'side-effects' that I could live without, but when weighed against the idea of going back to feeling like I was before, I guess I can deal.

Low-brow Comedy

2009-03-17T10:23:00.003-04:00

Sometimes life calls for low-brow comedy.
I discovered one of Stella's 'bath-time' babies next to the toilet. Clearly, it had not been explained to this baby doll that any area even relatively close to the toilet puts you in the line of fire. Hiding under or behind the toilet does nothing to ensure your safety from being sprayed by misguided streams of urine.
The baby learned her lesson the hard way. She had a very urine soaked head. It was dripping down her painted face and pooling around her neck. It appeared to even possibly be an intentional direct hit. To make matters worse she also appeared to have developed some black mold inside her water logged legs.
I made the solid decision to throw her out. End her time with us. I did not have the resolve it was going to require to wash the urine from her lovely crimped hair. Black mold frightens me. Away she went.
Of course, I forgot to bury her deep enough in the trash can and Stella found her.
I heard her shriek from the bathroom, "Mom, someone put my baby in the trash."
She was pulling the baby out of the trash can big tears starting to flow down her cheeks. The horror that someone would think to stick her baby in the trash!
Through her tears I explained what had happened to the baby. How she had been left in a less than sanitary spot. That being anywhere within a several foot radius of the boys most frequented toilet.
The tears didn't slow.
In a desperate move, I went for the low-brow comedy routine.
"Aw, don't cry for baby pee pee head, she is going to a better place where no one will pee on her ever again."
Stella laughed, "Baby pee pee head?"
"That's her new name."
We laughed. We talked more potty talk. We discussed the grossness of boys. We threw out baby pee pee head without anymore tears.

Just Ring if You Need Anything

2009-03-12T10:28:00.004-04:00

The brown and white pup was having trouble with the whole house-breaking thing. We had heard about training dogs with bells that you hang on the door that you typically send your dog out to do their business. The idea being that you walk the dog to the door. Ring the bells. Open the door. Take the dog out to 'go' and then reward the dog. Very Pavlov. The dog will eventually be conditioned to ring the bells and expect the door to open so he can go do his thing in the great outdoors, rather than the rug.
It totally worked. Within a few days the pup was ringing his bell to go out and no more accidents on the rug.
Here's the catch. The pup is now taking advantage of the bells. A few weeks ago, I was upstairs trying to get into the shower before the kids got up.
I hear the bells, grab a towel and go running downstairs. The pup is sitting by his food bowl. He wanted to be fed. Now.
In the mornings when Caleb is downstairs trying to eat breakfast the pup is relentless in his ringing. When I yell down to tell Caleb to let the pup out, he informs me that the pup wants to play.
He rings and when Caleb stands to let him out he runs and gets his ball. He wants to play fetch. Now.
The past few days he has been ringing like a crazy dog. Whether I am doing laundry, showering or let's be honest, reading blogs, I am constantly interrupted by the bell ringing of a very impatient pup.
I watched him last night after he 'rang' to get out for the billionth time. Caleb made one of those pine cones smeared with peanut butter and then rolled in bird seed, bird feeders. The pup can smell the peanut butter and is trying to figure out how to gets his paws on it. Hence, the need for the billion trips outside.
Now, you might be thinking I should just ignore him. Hells no. That is when he leaves me a big stinky present by the backdoor, and looks at me with a roll of his eyes and a shoulder shrug and says, "I rang, where the hell were you?"
I am afraid that I will be answering to the call of his bell for years to come, unless I can figure out how to install a doggy door.

I think the pup was worn out after all of his bell ringing. If he wasn't so good with the kids, I might be tempted to leave him curbside.

More Thoughts From The Beast

2009-03-10T10:44:00.003-04:00

The Beast came to me while I was cooking dinner yesterday and started in on a conversation that we have had multiple times. Only this time she had props to prove her point that I was unaware of until she whipped them out. Here is how it played out.
Me: Cooking dinner and yelling out the window for Caleb and half of the neighborhood kids to STOP filling the sandbox with water and yelling that no it is not okay to douse the pup with water even if he seems to enjoy it. WTF. Where do all of these kids come from? Wondering where the hell the hubby disappeared to?
Beast: Mom. What color am I?
Me: I don't know Beast. White I guess.
Beast: now holding a white crayon against her skin. I am NOT white.
Me: she has me here. While we are a truly pasty bunch we are not crayon white. Ummmm...
Beast: I want to be brown. Like Camryn. now the brown crayon is out
Me: Beast, we can't change the color of our skin. God made us this way and this is the way we will always look. unfortunately for The Beast I own stock in sun-screen and use it liberally.
Beast: Does God knowed I want to be brown?
Me: I am sure he does.
Beast: Does God knowed that I don't have a crayon that is my color? What color am I?
Me: stop cooking and go grab the crayon box. Find the apricot crayon. Give the crayon to The Beast. Here. You're officially apricot.
Beast: I can't wait to tell Camryn.

Roy G. Biv

2009-03-09T10:38:00.003-04:00

Miles loves rainbows. When we are out and about he goes through this thing where first we have to find something red, then orange, then yellow and so on until we go through the whole Roy G. Biv.
Winter makes this even more of a challenge. There is no gray in Roy G. Biv.

Miles decorated his fingers and toes with "Rainbows". He was very proud of himself

He did not want to wear socks or shoes all day. Couldn't hide the rainbows. Thank goodness we didn't have anywhere to go!

We think he will eventually grow into those front teeth! He is so cute. I love that boy!

The Romance Might be Fading.

2009-03-07T13:08:00.003-05:00

I love my husband. A lot. I really, really do. Sometimes though he says things that make me think the romance might be fading.
He came downstairs last night and said, "Did you see that I made Miles' bed? Do you want to hump?"
Even less now than about 10 seconds ago.
I don't know if I was more offended by the 'hump' word or that is has become so apparent that I am willing to trade sexual favors for household chores?
Regardless, a gal needs a little foreplay. Maybe if he had done the dishes then made the bed....

Feel that breeze?

2009-03-06T13:39:00.003-05:00

I can open my windows today and that makes me just so stinkin' happy. I cracked the kitchen window at 6:30am, just because I could. It was chilly, but it wasn't freezing.
By this time of the year I feel trapped in my own home. Made prisoner by cold wet weather and end of winter colds and coughs.
We needed to get out. Even just to the backyard.
Miles and Stella are outside jumping on the trampoline and romping on the play set. The brown and white pup is happy to have friends to play outside with him.
Everyone is in a better mood today than they have been all week.
Poor Myrtle, the kitty, is the only one not allowed outside. Stella freaks out when I mention it. She is so afraid that she won't come back or that she will get lost. I am thinking about trying her on a kitty leash.
The hubby says to count him out of any walks that involve our crazy kitty on a leash. We will have to see how it goes.

What Expiration Date?

2009-03-05T10:22:00.002-05:00

Today, I was going to write about my MIL and her unwillingness to accept expiration dates. I love my MIL. She is great and would do anything for myself or the kids.
I worry that some day she will come across this blog and her feelings would be hurt if she read what I was going to write.
So, I will just say that she does not believe in expiration dates. For anything. Milk, meat, cheese. If it has been frozen, it is good. I recently saw some chicken from 1994 in her freezer. 15 year old chicken. Yummy.
Recently, she discovered the little green bags. As seen on t.v.. Bananas last indefinitely. You know the ones.
She bought me some and I tried them out. The strawberries did last longer, but they got strangely hard.
In my mind I pictured some weird space-aged chemical seeping from the bags into my strawberries keeping them from aging. Years from now I would notice that the children were not aging, due to the high amounts of the anti-aging chemicals they had ingested by eating 'fresh' fruit.
I couldn't do it. I couldn't keep my berries from aging. I had to let them go naturally.
I am afraid my MIL is going to buy these bags in bulk. I am afraid we are going to go over one day and everything in the fridge and pantry will be 'green-bagged'. I bet she could get one more year out of her 2001 mayo if it's in the green bag.

Is it Summer Yet?

2009-03-04T13:39:00.004-05:00

So far, March has not played very nicely. It has been January cold. Not cool. I am ready for warm weather, so I am posting pictures of fun summer things we do.

We jump on the trampoline a lot. So far only one neighborhood kid has broken an ankle. Yes, that is the kids school in the background. We don't like a long commute.

We have semi-naked jam sessions. The Beast is on the Sax. Caleb on the violin and Dad was on the guitar.

Miles won an award for best decorations. His helmet was awesome.

Stella, being very Green, had the float theme 'Support the Farmers. Buy Locally' She strapped a piggy on the back of her trike. It was great.

The local fire station sent out a fire truck to lead our neighborhood parade. The kids loved it! Our neighborhood ROCKS, in case you are in the market for a move.

Home Today

2009-03-03T10:17:00.003-05:00

I kept Miles home from school today. It wasn't because of the bully. At least that is what I keep telling myself. Maybe it has a little to do with the bully. I just wanted to keep him home today and give him lots of hugs.
He also still has a bad case of the crap. Crappy cough, green crap coming out of his nose, crap stuck in his eyes. You get the idea.
I am sure he could have gone to school today. But, I am his Mom and so I get to decide that he just needs to be home with me today. Maybe I needed to be with him some too.
I am 'that mom'. The mom that has trouble some mornings waking up the kids, who are sleeping so warm and snug in their beds. Sometimes the thought of waking them and sending them out in the cold gets the better of me and I just let them sleep.
Then they wake up and I say, "Oh shit, what have I done!"
I rush to get them ready for school. Stuffing them into their coats and mittens, all of the 'warm and snug' thoughts gone, so I can have my few wonderful hours of peace and quiet.

Stella looking warm and snug. In this state, I am convinced that my children are lovely and quiet and listen to all of my Motherly suggestions. Then they wake-up.

Don't Make Me do Something I Might Regret!

2009-03-02T10:38:00.002-05:00

I have a high tolerance for lots of things. I have my own kids to thank for that. One thing that I can't and won't tolerate, from my kids or anyone else is bullying.
Miles has been acting strangely during drop-off at school. I walk in the building with him, as I am taking Stella to Pre-k, but he goes one direction and we go the other.
This had always been fine. He was happy to go and even seemed embarrassed if I did happen to walk him to class so I could talk to his teacher.
Then a few weeks ago he started covering his eyes as soon as we were in the building and saying that he was scared.
I would reassure him and send him on his way. I checked with the teachers and they agreed that Miles was occasionally saying he was scared to them as well.
Today, I sent him down his hall, but made sure I watched him all the way. He has been sick and didn't really want to be at school today.
I could not believe it when some little girl and her gang of misfits, stepped out in front of Miles and intentionally blocked his way.
He keep his head down and his eyes covered, and when he would try to go left so would they. He tried around the other side and they blocked that path too.
You have got to be shitting me! The obvious leader (little Bitch) was clearly proud of herself and continued to step closer and closer until she was almost chest to chest with Miles.
Every ounce of me wanted to go down the hall and thump her ass.
Instead I said "Miles, say ~~get the fuck outta my way before my Mom comes down here and opens a can of whup-ass all over you~~ Excuse me please."
The bully looked up at me when she realized I was standing just down the hall and moved her sorry ass out of Miles' way. I gave her the stink eye like only a Mother can and hopefully let her know that I will be watching her from now on.
Why are kids like that? How do they know which kids to pick on? Miles had a good 6 inches on her and yet he was clearly scared. I wish he would have looked her in the eyes and said, "move your punk ass out of my way you bully."
Next time, I might not be so nice. I might just open that can of whup-ass.

More Thoughts From The Beast

2009-02-27T10:48:00.002-05:00

Caleb received an unsolicited 'pep-talk' from The Beast. It went something like this.

Caleb: "Mom. I am hideous. Why did you make me brush my hair? It's hideous now. (hideous, is Caleb's new favorite word to use when describing his dreaded hair)
Me: "Caleb, your hair is fine. I know you don't believe me, but someday you will like your hair. I love your hair." (Caleb's hair is the best shade of red and curly. Someday. Chicks will dig-it.)
Enter The Beast.
She sizes Caleb up from head-to-toe. I am waiting for some nice words, because as much as she is a stinker, she loves to dole out compliments.
Beast: "Caleb, we think you are handsome on the inside and that's what really counts."
Me: Suppressing laughter at the look on Caleb's face as a result of his sister's 'pep-talk'

This is Caleb and Stella during a moment when they were getting along. I never imagined that two kids could butt-heads as hard as these two often do. I love that she is wearing her pink tutu and he is wearing his baseball shirt in this picture. They are so different and yet so much alike.

Sinking

2009-02-26T10:04:00.006-05:00

I feel like I am sinking this week. Everywhere I look there is something calling, no shouting, to be taken care of.
I started babysitting again, after a few glorious months off, and I am finding it hard to get back in the groove of having a 2.5yr old around the house. He got the boot from his last sitter for being too 'active'. I am starting to feel her pain. He has some things going on that are all too familiar, speech delays, sensory processing disorders, so I know I will stick it out with him. The underdogs need love too.
My freakin' mop, even once forcefully assembled by the hubby, is still not working.
I dread the phone call to the company. I am going to try the super-nice approach first. We will see how far that gets me.
Miles is still not wanting to go to school. I don't know what is going on with him. What I wouldn't give for a peek into his mind. Today it doesn't feel fair. Today, no fooling around. I need to be able to talk with my son. Today, I am struggling.
Miles just qualified for a level 1 medicaid waiver. It is supposed to be better than the family directed resources we were receiving, but so far it has been a lot of dead ends. None of our current therapists or doctors accept medicaid.
We do have a wonderful team of teachers who are becoming certified medicaid providers so that they can start tutoring Miles at home. I am hoping to keep him nearly full-time this summer, or at least a few days a week. I think it will be so important that he not loose any of the skills he learned this year if he is to be successful next year.
I am going to take today, one thing at a time. I need to accomplish something, or seriously, I might sink.
I read about Olivia today in Jodie's blog. She touched my heart. How could she not. See for yourself, and say a prayer.

I'm not stupid. Just weak.

2009-02-25T10:13:00.002-05:00

In November, a surprise landed on my doorstep. An H2O mop. Like the kind you see on t.v.. I had drooled over this mop for months. My Dad, over-indulgent as ever, bought it for me.
I loved it. It worked great. On the dreaded, but tolerated because we are poor, linoleum. On the carpet, stains came up like magic. Magic, people. Seriously. My kids could eat off the floor without me wondering what disease they would contract.
Then, it died. No heat. No steam. No magic. Damn.
I called the company and explained the situation. They said it sounded like the boiler died. Fine, whatever, just send me a new one. Need. Mop. Now.
I was too excited at the prospect of getting my mop back in working order to argue about the fact that I had to pay over $13 for a product that is under warranty. Why should I have to pay shipping and handling for your broken product? In an effort to be nice and maybe expedite the shipping of the new 'body' for my mop I let it go.
Monday, my new mop 'body' arrived. Yesterday the pup ate a marker and in the process turned the carpet red. Later he threw up red banana peels.
Definitely time for the magic mop.
I started taking apart the old mop so that I could attach the new body to the old handle and mop head. Much to my frustration the water tank would NOT fit on the new body.
I rarely loose it. I mean really loose it. After red carpet, red pup and red vomit and a magic mop that would NOT fit together. I lost it.
I called the company again. I was quickly in touch with a costumer service lady. She assured me that the water tanks were interchangeable. I assured her they were not. We went back and forth like this for an uncomfortable amount of time.
I finally said, "Look, I am not STUPID. I can attach a water tank to a mop. I can attach it to the old mop just fine. It will not fit on the new mop."(I was repeating this action, as if she could some how see me proving my point)
At this point she asked me to "Please Hold."
She came back and said that her supervisor said that she could send out a new tank. She added, "The tanks are interchangeable though."
I swear, I tried to shove the tank through the phone and up her nose. It wouldn't fit.
On my way home from the dentist last night, I called the hubby to say I was on my way. He said he had assembled my mop for me. ( I had not told him about my phone call)
In my defense, it was really hard for him to get the tank on. He had to force it. I still say, "Interchangeable, my ass."

Smelly Cat

2009-02-24T10:04:00.002-05:00

Someone powdered the cat.
She smelled really good. She doesn't typically stink, but she doesn't always smell like Victoria's Secret 'heavenly' powder either.
Curious about who felt the need to gussy up the cat, I questioned the most likely offenders. The short ones.
Caleb claimed innocence, but thought it was funny.
Stella was also innocent. This time. She did wondered why Myrtle was allowed to use the powder that she herself had been told to get permission to use.
Miles. By process of elimination.
Unless. Is my husband is so discouraged that I never use the powder that he has resorted to this. Powdering the cat?
I asked Miles first. He said, "No Mom."
Then, as I walked away, I heard..."Mmmm, Myrtle smells good."
Nice. Since no harm had been done, and the cat did smell good, I let him off with a warning.

In other pet news, the brown and white puppy, is now the RED, white and brown puppy. He ate a marker. The carpet is red. The dog is red. All morning I had to reassure the kids that the dog was not bleeding. Yet. UGH.

Also, I must share that I am forcing myself to wear jeans everyday. It is much harder to fool yourself into thinking that you are comfortable with your weight, when you are uncomfortable in your jeans.

I know I am the Mother of Boys Because..

2009-02-23T10:36:00.004-05:00

*The smell of public restrooms makes me feel right at home.
*I find myself allowing a bearded dragon to take a nice warm shower several days a week.
*Food that once fed five now barely feeds two.
*I have learned the hard way to ALWAYS check pants pockets before washing. (oh how I loathe cargo pants)
*The sight of dried blood found randomly around the house no longer shocks me.
*Barbie would never willingly hang-out with a bunch of Ninja Turtles and army men. Clearly she is being held against her will.
*Underwear, in a pinch, can and will double as toilet paper.
*I am no longer shocked that people enjoying wrestling one another 24/7.
*I am fairly sure I now hold a degree in Structural Engineering, based on how many lego cities and Bionicles I have built.
*I now know that anything can be made into a weapon.
*I am used to hearing sentences that begin with "Does this hurt?" and "What does this smell like?"
*I know the Cub Scout promise.
*Around here, even hop-scotch is a contact sport.

This is Tonks. He likes his showers very warm and steamy. For all the other 'Potter' fans out there, Tonks was originally thought to be a girl. Hence the name.

Pretending to be Kitties

2009-02-22T15:03:00.002-05:00

Stella and Miles are fascinated with Myrtle's ability to sit in the window sill or perch on the arm of the couch. Our only pet before the kitty and the pup was a big dog. He wasn't perching on anything. They like to pretend to be kitties.

On this day I came downstairs to find the bunch watching their cartoons like this. I thought it was funny.

The Beast

2009-02-21T20:21:00.002-05:00

A conversation between myself and The Beast (Stella)
Me: "Beast, this basement is a mess. I think I'll clean it up."
Beast: "Okay Mom. I will help you. I am your super helper. Maybe I will get a star. I won't ask though, because I am not supposed to ask. Right? Will I get one?"
M: "Well, you can help. I can't guarantee a star. You're right about not asking. Sometimes we help each other just to be nice. This isn't really my mess, but I'll clean it because I want to be nice." (also, I might shit an egg-roll if I step on one more freakin lego)
B: "I'll help. I can't carry blankets though, or fold blankets. (from the fort making) I also really can't pick up anything right now. My arms are tired. Really tired. Feel them."
M: "Uh-huh.It's up to you."
B: "I will talk-it to you while you clean. I talk-it good. (oh, no shit. It's getting you to shut-it that's the problem) I will talk-it to you, so you are not sad."
M:"I'm not sad. Thanks though."
B:"Actually, I really can't even talk-it to you right now." (Yay!) I think I will just play Polly Pockets."
M:"Cool. Make sure you pick-up when you're done. Since I just cleaned up."
B:"I was hoping you would still be nice, and just do it for me."

Good help is hard to find these days.

You've got a friend in me.

2009-02-20T14:55:00.004-05:00

I try to not be a complainer. I try to 'look on the bright-side'. I think if I didn't, I would go down. Hard.
Miles has been having an 'off' couple of weeks. He has been getting notes home that say things like, 'Miles needed a lot of extra sensory input today.'
Which means he is doing a lot of flapping and running and squeezing. He also started having accidents at school this week. He has been potty trained for over three years and I can't tell you the last time he had an accident. Until now. Four. This week. Three at school.
I took him to the doctors thinking maybe a UTI? I was reaching. Grasping at straws. Trying to supply the school with an explanation.
It was a no go. Sorry, no medical explanation.
I wish I could sit him down and say, "Hey look. Unfortunately you already have a long road ahead of you. The last thing you need is to be known at school as the pee-pants kid."
I know this seems harsh. But, that is how much I love him. As much as I want him to succeed academically, I also want him to be accepted socially. I want him to have a friend on the playground.
When I was in high school, there was this kid. His name was Lucas. He was tall and strong and he used to move his fingers in front of his eyes. Sometimes he would reach out and try to touch you. I was afraid of him. Looking back now I am certain he was autistic. Just like Miles.
I had a friend who wasn't afraid. She would always say hi to him. She would yell at people who teased him. I pray every day that Miles has someone like her to be his friend at school. Someone who is braver than I was back then.
I am making up for it now. I am not scared any more. I am so proud to be his mom. I bet Lucas' Mom felt the same way.

All proceeds will go to Charity

2009-02-19T10:16:00.003-05:00

Caleb came home yesterday with a form for "Jumping Rope for Heart Disease". He really wanted to participate and asked if I would read it over and fill out the on-line form.
Upon reading it, I found that the company encourages the kids to sign-up on-line and send out pre-written letters asking people for donations to help fight heart disease. While of course I think funding research to fight any disease is a worthy cause, I did not feel comfortable with the fact that the minimum accepted on-line donation was $25. Really. I could feed the family for at least a few nights on $25.
You can also go door-to-door asking for donations. Again, I just don't really feel comfortable. We just finished peddling cub scout popcorn to all the neighbors. Is it really fair to hit them up again? I am thinking no.
I told Caleb that I didn't think he was going to be able to participate in the jump-a-thon, to which he replied, "But, Mom it's for hearts and stuff."
Suddenly, my son is passionate about heart disease. I am sure it has NOTHING to do with the 'prizes' you can earn by collecting donations.
He was positive that is was not about the prizes, he just really wanted to help.
I tried to explain the state of the economy and how I wanted to stay friendly with the neighbors, and was met with eye-rolling and deep sighs.
He said,"Mom, I am sure that people will want to help."
"You know," I said. "You are right. People will want to help. This is a good cause and I am glad to see you are so passionate about something other than playstation. Your birthday is just around the corner. Instead of asking for gifts, we will ask everyone to donate to the heart disease fighting cause."
"Mom, the jump-a-thon will be over. It will be too late."
"I am %100 certain that they will be happy with your donation no matter when they get it."
(At this point there was a stare-down, so he could try to asses my seriousness)
"I guess your right. It might not be fair to ask people for money right now."
The family and neighbors can thank me later.

Never stop learning

2009-02-18T11:45:00.003-05:00

~~fuzzy~~
Well, look at that. You do learn something everyday. My brain even feels a little less fuzzy.
Big thanks to autismomma.

Fuzzy Brain

2009-02-18T10:03:00.002-05:00

My brain feels fuzzy today. Sluggish. So I am going to regal you with some fairly useless information.
*I need a dictionary. I am using a Scrabble dictionary. While my vocabulary is still stagnant, my husband better watch out because I am memorizing the Q without U words. Also, I now know several Z words.
*We got a free sample size of lady's shaving cream with our Sunday paper. I was really excited. Maybe a little too excited. My kids thought maybe we had won some grand prize. Really my husband was the winner. I shaved.
*It is official. We need a new roof. It took a hit with the 'Ike' winds and the winds last week finished it off.
*We need to have work done on the van. Coolant leakage. Radiator crude. The mechanic suggested we not take any long road trips. Great.
*I have been trying to figure out how people 'cross-out' words in their posts. Stumped. Anyone?
*My brain is moving so slow today that even this list feels like a chore.
I am going to go move my body, and hopefully wake up the brain.

Just call me Supa-Nanny

2009-02-17T13:50:00.002-05:00

Okay, you know how the Super Nanny is always coming up with all these great ideas to help families just like mine?
Well, this past summer I pulled out my own Super Nanny skillz and came up with with the idea of the 'star chart'. It is probably a bogus rip-off of some idea I saw, but I am totally claiming it as my own. I need to be recognized as brilliant every once in a blue moon. So, if you have already seen this, throw me a bone and play along like it was all my idea!
We recently reinstated the 'star chart' and I had forgotten how well it works, so I felt I must share.
We have tried all kinds of systems around this house. Mostly, they revolve around what you are not supposed to do, and you get punished accordingly. I found myself doing a lot of threatening with these programs and very little action. We tried the 'three strikes and you are out'. My kids would all be 'out' by like 8a.m.
This would result in a bunch of even whinier kids and I would be all, "Okay, today only, you get four strikes," and so on.
So, the star chart is all about catching the kids doing good things. Which can be at times really, really hard. Really. Hard.
It forces me to see that my children do have some good in them. It can be as simple as a kind word or someone sharing without me having to give a speech or dirty look. They get a star.
I ask, "Hey, will go and check the mail," child does it without whining or claiming they are too busy. They get a star.
There are catches. They can not ask for a star. They can not negotiate a star.(I will stop kicking and screaming if I get a star). They do not get a star for everything they do, or every kind word. Good behavior is always expected whether they get a star or not. Sometimes a star is just a bonus.
Once they get 10 stars they get to choose from the treasure chest. (box of cheap crafts and candy).
It works. They love it. They do things just to see if it will result in a star. I find myself complimenting them more often than I threaten them. Trips to the store are quiet and behaved. It only costs me a star.

All you gotta do is ask

2009-02-16T12:25:00.004-05:00

Sometime around the beginning of October I usually start asking my kids what their little hearts desire for Christmas.
From Caleb and Stella I quickly get lists. Complete with a power point presentation and a pie-chart allowing me to see order of importance and such. Catalogs are reviewed and revisited several times until the decisions are firm and in a notarized letter to Santa.
Miles. Not so much. He is a man of few words that one.
That doesn't stop me from asking and suggesting, only to be met often with "No thank you Mom."
After several weeks of asking, all the kid had requested was, "Some white paper." Sweet. Done.
However, one package of white paper under the tree for Miles would leave the other kids to wonder what bad deed could have been so unspeakable as to cause Santa to leave such a bogus gift for their brother.
I racked my brain, but I refused to buy stuff just so he would have 'something' under the tree.
Then one day in early November Miles walked up to me and said, "A brown and white puppy, Mom."
"What puppy Miles."
"I want a brown and white puppy."
We lost our brown and white dog in July. He passed due to age and illness. He was a beloved pet. My husband had a picture of the dog on his cell phone. Miles asked for the phone every night when my husband came home from work. He would look at the picture and inquire again, "Lewis in Heaven Mom?"
Every night. For months.
So, I went shopping. At a farm. Brown and white puppy. Check.
Because pups don't wrap well and because when someone you love asks for so little you just want to give them everything, the brown and white puppy became a Thanksgiving Day gift.
The white paper under the tree would just have to do.
The day the puppy arrived Miles, as usually, asked for the hubby's phone. He showed the new pup the picture.
He has some big paws to fill.

Miles and the pup! Love at first cuddle.

The Pup is getting bigger. He is NEVER allowed on the couch! Never. Ever.

Lord forgive me please.

2009-02-15T16:24:00.003-05:00

I find a lot of my prayers begin with this initial request. "Lord, please forgive me."
"Forgive me for wishing my kids would just be quiet. Forgive me for yelling. Forgive me for fantasizing about running away and starting that new life. The life where no one calls me 'Mama' and no one needs a single thing from me and I am back in school and preferably living very near the beach."
I am thankful my God is a forgiving God. I need to be forgiven. I am thankful some fantasies are never fulfilled.
Today, on our way to church, Miles said "Mom, show me a happy face."
This is what he says when the face has been too angry for too long. I responded with a smile that was too toothy and big to be taken as the real thing, and then I quietly prayed.
"Lord, please forgive me. For my impatience and for my feelings of frustration over kids just being kids. Forgive me for the curses I thought about my husband, as he is already at church doing your work, and he was not there to help poke and prod the kids through breakfast, oh Lord."
I know that he heard me.
I apologized to the kids for the harsh rush out the door.
"Sorry guys for the angry face and the too loud words, but please next Sunday let's plan better."
They too are so forgiving.
We got home feeling better for the prayers and the fellowship. We bundled up and took the pup to the park. We ran a lot. We stopped for ice-cream on the way home.
I am working on forgiving myself. That is the hardest forgiveness to come by.

crafts

2009-02-14T20:54:00.005-05:00

Stella and Caleb made their own cards. Stella's were inspired by a craft Jodi did with her kiddos, and Caleb folded origami dragons and put suckers in the dragon's mouths. Super cute.
We also tried the melted crayon hearts from Jodi's blog. I am not sure she will want to be pinpointed as the source of our inspiration. Ours did not turn out quite like hers. My kiddos had trouble understanding that less was more. They also insisted on rainbow colors.
I guess what is important though, is that they enjoyed doing the craft and they were proud of the results!

Happy Day.

2009-02-14T20:29:00.003-05:00

Today was a good day. The only thing that would have made it better is if my hubby did not have to work all day.
He drove the limo ALL day for one wedding party, popping in on us periodically between drop-offs and pick-ups.
The kids and I decided on an outing to Toys 'R' Us and Walmart. They received Valentines Day moola from the Grandparents and needed to spend it NOW!
This suited me fine, as the cabin fever was setting in and I needed to get out.
Stella and Miles found what they wanted at Toys 'R' Us. Miles chose a new Thomas. Of course. Stella got a polly pocketish deal, but it was Cinderella. Those shoes are just soooo small.
The people in line behind me were giving me the 'sigh', because I asked the cashier to do two transactions so each kid could pay with their own money.
Oh, how I wish my parents would have taught me more about money while I was young. Saving it. Spending wisely. Credit cards are Evil.
I just got the old "my money doesn't grow on trees, ask your Dad when you are at his house this weekend," speech.
Caleb, being older and wiser, held out over the shiny temptations at the first store and spent his cash at Walmart. He got his gun, some caps for said gun and two small lego sets. He is still in the market for a scope and helmet. Super.
I decided to run for Mom of the year, or at least the day, and went through Mc Donalds on the way home. It totally worked. Everyone told me this was like "the best day ever!"
It was a good day.

'To-Do" list

2009-02-13T10:45:00.003-05:00

This 'to-do' list was on my fridge this morning. Caleb has some plans.
First, a translation.
Saturday plans.
make suit
buy gun
buy scope
buy helmet
do any homework

Second, let me explain.
We are NOT forming our own militia.
Apparently,poor spelling is genetic.
I was totally one of those moms that was all about not having any toy guns. My son made guns out of legos anyway.
This list is for a Halloween costume. For next year.
Caleb is currently really interested in all things Army Ranger.
Caleb decided not to play lacrosse this year. He thinks it is too violent.

Why I hate Thomas

2009-02-13T10:06:00.005-05:00

I hate Thomas. I very rarely use the word hate. He makes me angry. I would like to slap the grin off that 'very useful engines' face and punch him in the nose so hard it makes his stupid eyes spin.
There(deep breath). I feel much better already. Sometimes I just need to get it all out.
Miles played with Thomas this morning before school. He hardly ever plays with Thomas anymore, but today for whatever reason, Thomas and a bunch of his equally irritating friends made their way downstairs. A train yard suddenly appeared between the living room and the kitchen. No one was allowed to touch them. Or walk near them. Or ask about them. Super.
The reasons I hate Thomas are several. Yes, he is annoying and teaches my son phrases like "oh, cinders and ashes", but the real reason I hate Thomas is more about how it makes Miles behave.
The first time I came to really realize that Miles was autistic was when I was watching him line up his trains. I knew without a doubt what the doctors refused to confirm. My kid was autistic. He would line them up and they had to be in a perfect order and of course no one was allowed within a several foot radius of the trains.
I have seen more melt-down, shit-fit, arm-flapping, shenanigans in reaction to some Thomas induced tragedy than any person should ever have to see in an entire life time.
I have put countless DVDs in the player trying to find the one with the 'boulder' while my son withers on the ground lost within himself.
I have dug through sandboxes at midnight because Miles realized that this Thomas by his bedside is not the one with the chipped paint on the corner. His favorite.
Somehow Thomas is linked to whatever it is that spurns Miles' 'autistic' behaviors. Any other toy he will happily share. Any other movie we can speak to him while he watches. Not Thomas. Thomas equals regression.
Miles loves Thomas. The love affair while still there, is fading. Thomas was also the first toy that Miles did any real pretend play with. Sometimes when someone falls, Miles will say, "luckily no one was hurt." (another Thomas phrase)
So, Thomas gets to stay. That doesn't mean I have to like him.

In case you wondered what Evil looks like.

2009-02-12T10:54:00.003-05:00

This is Myrtle. That is the dog's leg that she is chewing.

Amnesia

2009-02-11T10:25:00.004-05:00

A few days ago, I was enjoying reading a post over at Paul Newman Shirt Days, when R.E.M's 'Night Swimming' started playing from the play list. (Thank you Christy)
When I heard the song, I felt like I was coming out of some sort of amnesiac episode. I recognized the song. Loved the voice. Then it hit me. I used to love R.E.M.. I still do.
I used to rock with them and dance around the house.
It was like a fog lifting from my brain. Other songs and artist I once enjoyed started popping into my head.
Sometimes, I feel like I have lost such a huge piece of myself over the years. My identity revolves more around who my kids are and what is happening in their lives than who I am and what is going on with me.
I suppose this is to be expected. To a point. After all, they are still young and at ages where everything they do filters back through me.
I wonder though, if this is how so many marriages crumble. Will we come out on the other side, after the kids are grown and gone, look at our spouse and say "Who the hell are you, and what did you do with that rock star I married?"
I hope not.
I have decided to reclaim some bits of me. Just for me.
I will work-out without guilt. I will read. I will listen to music. I will find myself again. I will merge my Mom-self with my lost identity. I hope it will make me more whole. I think my kids will enjoy seeing a little bit of the 'rock star' me. I know my husband will.

Just a note: I am in no way a capable 'Rock Star'. I can NOT sing and should probably keep my dance moves to myself. I love music though. Love the way it reminds me of people and good-times, and not so good-times. I think that remembering is important. I think that evolving without completely loosing yourself is important too.
I think now I will go and jam to some 'Ben Folds', while I fold the laundry. Merge, baby, merge.

Sure, I can laugh about it now...

2009-02-08T14:52:00.003-05:00

I dropped Stella off at a birthday party yesterday. Her friend was turning 5. Stella is going to be turning 5. Yikes. This age for some reason seems to be the turning point. 5 years old. School aged. No longer a baby. I guess I was feeling a little blue and I started thinking about the day she was born....
She was my third born. Caleb and Miles, both arrived minus the use of pain-killers. Miles had come fast though. Too fast. Like nearly in the car, nurses scrambling to get my pants off, fast.
Stella, we decided should be induced. Safely. In a hospital. No cars.
I decided that since I was getting induced I would try out the epidural. See what everyone has been raving about all this time.
Even though this was to be my third birth, I was still nervous. (Do you ever stop getting nervous for this?) The nurse came and gave me a pre-epidural shot of Nubian. I felt like she gave my a shot, or five, of Tequila. 'Can I get a lime and some salt with that?' Seriously, I felt drunk. Really drunk.
When the anesthesiologist came in, I did my best to sober up and listen to his instructions. His needle was big. I felt it best to try and concentrate. He gave me a list of things I should tell him if I felt. If I feel pain down one side or the other, etc, etc.... I did my best to hear and retain his very important, don't want my spine severed directions.
He started his deal with me hunched over into a ball. The idea of hunching into a ball when you are so pregnant is laughable. But, hunched I was. When alas, my butt started to get warm. Really warm. I did a mental replay of the 'please tell me if' directions and could not recall if warming butt was on the list. So I did what any drunken, pregnant, hunched-over, nervous-nelly would do. I asked.
"Umm, I don't remember. Should I tell you if my butt is getting warm? My butt is really warm. Do you need to know if that happens, because I couldn't remember?"
"No" he said, "I don't need to know about warm butts."
That is when the helpful nurse with the sweet drugs piped in, "Oh. Honey you're peeing on yourself."
Lovely.

So this is what it's like to have an only child?

2009-02-06T21:52:00.003-05:00

Someone in the Universe had my back today. Someone knew I was just a few days away from starting my, uh-hum 'lady-time'. Someone knew the week before said time I alternate between feelings of rage and exhaustion.
Thank you.
My Mom called last night to see if it would be 'okay' if she took Stella for the day and kept her overnight. Yes, please. Thank you, very much.
Caleb came home from school, went across the street to a friend's house and only came home for dinner. He too is spending the night away.
The Lord has been listening to this girl's prayers.
My hubby and I caught up on several episodes of 'The Biggest Loser'. I didn't have to stop watching once to break-up a fight, wipe a butt or 'come quick and see how cute the kitty is being'.
Miles, the only child of the evening, has been happily playing with what-ever the hell he wants and doesn't even have to share. Apparently, the Lord has been listening to his prayers as well.
I love my kids, but I love them even more after a break.

Good news. 'Biggest Loser' got me focused. Must eat better. Must exercise. Must someday meet Bob the trainer and lick him because he is just too yummy not to lick. Oh, lost my focus.
Something I am trying: Drinking a big glass of water when I want to snack. The time I spent at weight watchers taught me that we (heavy weights) often mistake thirst for hunger. So far so good.

And the Oscar goes to....

2009-02-04T14:43:00.003-05:00

My neighbor called yesterday to see if Stella would like to come over and play with her daughter for a few hours. Hells ya! We chatted on the phone for a few minutes as I shoved Stella into her coat and boots as to not waste any time getting her down to her friend's house.
She offered to meet us half way and walk Stella back to her house.
"Sure, see you in about 30 seconds," I said.
When we met up, I was all smiles and thank you very much and keep her as long as you want.... when she said, "I just have to say, you are such a great mom. Always so happy and calm and together."
I turned around to see who else had joined us on the sidewalk because clearly she wasn't talking to me.
There was no one standing behind me, so I just gave an awkward laugh and said, "Thanks."
As I walked home doing my little happy dance. I wondered...
Am I really that good at hiding the crazy? Does that make me even more crazy? Should I be better about letting people in on the crazy? Or, should I just move to Hollywood and cash in on my obviously superior acting skills?

IEP update and other junk

2009-02-03T10:52:00.003-05:00

The IEP was not quite as bad as anticipated. We did have to do some negotiating, but as of right now we are happy with his plan.
His kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Owen, was a life-saver. I must remember to send her a thank you note. She repeatedly noted that he was doing a great job in her classroom and did not hinder her ability to focus on the other kids in any way.
That is the thing. I would understand the hesitance to integrate him if he had severe behavior issues, but he doesn't. He is a great kid that wants to learn. As it stands now, he will be integrated into a typical 1ST grade room with an aide and one pull-out for special ed. services per day.
I am happy.

On another note. Do you ever feel like the world is trying to drop you a hint? Over the past couple of months I have been asked by two separate people if I would like to join the gym with them, one asked if I would like to join weight watchers, my Mom asks me once a week if I have checked out the FIT.tv channel and my MIL bought me a Wii fit. I'm sorry were trying to tell me something? Am I missing the point here?
WTF. Then to top it all off, the damn Wii fit confirmed mine (and apparently everyone else) suspicions. I am old and fat.
HELLO, thank you very much Wii fit. I don't know if any of you have had the pleasure of using a Wii fit, but it will track your 'fitness age' and BMI for you. Lovely.
I am going to try and heed the warning of the mighty Wii (and my doctor)and realize it is time to loose some serious weight.
The truth is I have been uncomfortable in my own skin for a long time now. I am hoping that by writing about it I will be more likely to do something about it.
I am unhealthy, I am uncomfortable, I am going to make the choice to change.
Wish me luck. Also, please note that any tips and or suggestions as well as general showing of support are fully welcomed!

The dreaded IEP

2009-02-02T12:01:00.003-05:00

Today is a day that I always dread, probably always will. We have to go in and update my son's IEP (individual education plan). Now, please do not assume that I dread this day because I don't like to be involved in my son's education. That is not the case. At all.
I dread it because I feel like I have to sit in front of these educators and prove that my son is worthy of being included in a 'typical' classroom and is worthy of being taught by a 'typical' teacher. It takes everything I have to not stand up and shout, "here is a compliant willing learner, he causes no trouble. Look past the IEP and do your damn job and teach him!"
That probably would make some people uncomfortable though. And, maybe embarrass my husband, who is a teacher. And I am all about not rocking the boat. So, I try really hard not to shout at anyone.
We had three wonderful years of 'special needs' preschool. The teacher was awesome and we never had to prove the worth of our son to anybody. So, we were taken aback when the school fought us on having him in the regular kindergarten classroom. We kept pushing though and they finally agreed.
He is now, according to his teachers, doing a fabulous job as a 'typical' kindergartner. Hitting all his marks for reading, writing, and even early math comprehension. They love having him in the classroom.
Yet, I was informed today that the first grade teachers are not sure a child with autism would be a good fit for the first grade curriculum and he will probably need to spend most of his day in the resource room.
WTH. Here we go again. So, we are gearing up again, to prove AGAIN, that our son is a fine fit for any teacher who is willing to teach him.
I will let you know how it goes.
I just don't think any parent should have to fight so hard for their kid to be included in any classroom. My son is more than capable. I would never put him in a position that I thought was setting him up for failure. I hope everyone at the meeting can see that.
Also, I have to include this because I thought it was funny. The APE (adaptive physical education) teacher included on my son's IEP progress report that, "Miles continues to move closer to the wall to make throwing the ball and catching it on it's bounce back easier".
Well, duh. That's just smart thinking!

Tech-savvy I am not.

2009-02-01T10:01:00.002-05:00

I noticed something funny today that I had not noticed before. My URL is 'stuckinthesuburgs' instead of 'stuckinthesuburbs' as is should be. This is due to a couple of factors.
*I am NOT so hot in the spelling department.
*I am not tech-savvy at all.
*I can type fast, but not always accuratly.
I realized this when I was trying to add blogs to my blogroll and happend to look at my own URL.
Oh, well. I guess it will just have to do.