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

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.....

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.

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....

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..

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

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..

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.