The Newbies

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?

Random thoughts of the day

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.
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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.
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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.
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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.

Low-brow Comedy

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.

More Thoughts From The Beast

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.

Home Today

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.

You've got a friend in me.

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.