Bug Boys' Blog

I am jumping ship

2007-04-28T12:42:00.000-04:00

I've been toying with the idea of moving my blog elsewhere for some time. I am going to leave this one up for a short time until everyone links on over to my new blog:

The Domestic Goddess

I just feel it is easier to use, has more capabilities, has more design choices and is easier on the eyes. This blog is ok, but I wanted something a little more. I am also going to try to change my style just a hair. Once I go through some old posts I may delete some of what I've written, mostly because I do not want other people reading it and associating it with me. You know, like the negative, poor-me posts? GONE.

Anywho, please check me out on my new site and fix yer links/bookmarks accordingly. I'll still keep my google sign on, may change it to Domestic Goddess. We shall see

OMGWTFBBQ

2007-04-27T08:10:00.001-04:00

Sorry for the txtspeak, but I've always liked this song and now I like it even more. If you have ever heard KT Tunstall and "Black Horse and a Cherry Tree" (and I don't mean the Americal Idol version, folks), please, PLEASE go here and watch this. This girl has more talent in her pinky fingernail than most people have in their flipping body.

Flippin' sweet link:

KT TUNSTALL

I tried putting it right on my blog but it kept freezing up. Dang blogger. But anywho, enjoy your moment of zen. And may your basement not be full of water today.

Surviving the MRI

2007-04-26T11:37:00.000-04:00

I did it.

I got the MRI for my lumbar issues. Once they get the results we can find out if it is truly herniated (as they suspect) or if I am just a big hypochondriac (unlikely, since I have a high tolerance for pain and went through medication-free labors until I had complications and ended up with emergency measures. And I once pierced my own ear cartilage without any numbing device, just a potato and a needle. Don't ask.).

I decided to cancel my appointment for the regular MRI and went to their open MRI instead. On my way there I was attempting self talk and praying, trying to psych myself up for it. This is no easy task. To make matters even more difficult, I am in my "manic" phase of the month, which means I am jittery, anxious and irritable to begin with. If that wasn't enough to derail my efforts to get through the MRI, I decided I was hungry on the way there and stopped at Wawa to buy a hotdog. And I don't like hotdogs. Yes, I am confused, too.

Once I arrived and sat in the parking lot eating my hotdog I reminded myself that it would be over quickly. It is just a machine. I can do this. I can get through this test. I took a deep breath, walked in and registered. I was the ONLY one there, which made it even easier for me. As I waited in the entrance I noticed a sign with a picture of their brand-new, state-of-the-art Open MRI. It was square, open on all sides and looked fairly harmless. Until I was called back.

By then, my heart was in my throat and I could feel my hair tingling with every beat. I slipped off my bra (because, when you get an MRI, they want you to be as embarrassed as possible) and locked the door behind me (because they give you these nice little changing rooms to lock your stuff in and there are inspirational posters hanging in there, and signs that say you will be charged if you don't get through the MRI without having a panic attack). The technician was so sweet and understanding. When she asked me if I was claustrophobic, I blurted out, "YES!" before she had a chance to finish her sentence. Gulp.

Once I was on the table and she adjusted pillows and such, I was relieved to see I was going in feet first. I mean, I was still going to be UNDER the machine (very creepy) but I just kept talking myself into it. You can do this. You will get through it. My heart was still pounding and felt like it was leaping out of my chest. The hotdog was a biiiiiiig mistake at this point. I kept tasting it in my mouth and felt like I was going to dry-heave. I can do this. I can DO THIS. It is just a machine! Take a nap, I dare you! Now, who did I sit next to in 9th grade English? What should I make for dinner? Before I knew it, the headphones were on, the music was started (XPN, w00t!) and I was given instructions. The first bit was six minutes long...

The next thing I knew she was starting the next round and I must have dozed off. No, really! I did! The LOUD white noise was actually soothing. I had my head turned to the side to see out of the machine and my arms were hanging out anyway. My feet were also out of the machine, so it wasn't so bad. I just ignored the fact that my hips were restrained, concentrated on the wall next to me and watched the technician again until...

Must have dozed off again. Test is over! I was being rolled out of the machine. Of course, I was groggy and tired but it was over. OVER! DONE! I should have the results in two days.

My complaint with these tests is that they KNOW how uncomfortable people are. They know it is scary. And yet, no one has bothered to come up with a better way to get this info? I mean, they did it on Star Trek! C'mon people! Gene gave us great ideas on that show! If we can invent a door that says, "Schweeeee" then we can make a body scan like Bones' tricorder. Right? RIGHT?

My boys are lucky. The get Versid squirted up their noses when they get MRIs.

Oh Linen, How I Love Thee!

2007-04-25T08:06:00.000-04:00

My name is M-j, and I am a recovering linen addict. I cannot help myself.

I love linen. I love the way it feels on my body. You know, being a natural fiber and all. I know it wrinkles easily, but that is part of the beauty of it. No one expects you to be wrinkle-free in linen! And I rarely iron it...

In a store, I can feel the linen vibe three aisles away. I can sense it. I can spot it. I HAVE TO HAVE IT. These days linen comes in many fine colors, not just the drab earth tones of yesteryear. I have found PURPLE, FUSCHIA AND CANARY linen. I kid you not (Yeah, it hurt my eyes, too. I do not know why anyone would consider owning this colors.)! In the past two weeks I have found affordable and SUPER CUTE linen at Tarzhay and ON, my favorite cheapo haunts. Tarzhay had the CUTEST linen skirts and this weekend they were on the sale rack, meaning, I got them for 40% off. I wore said linen skirt to church with cute little brown Mary Jane-type heels and a nice short-sleeved sweater. I felt so trendy.

The linen you find these days is softer, easier to wear. It is "washable" which means it doesn't fall apart the first time you wash it, just the second or third. And who the heck would take linen to a drycleaner? Certainly not Moi. Not since I invested in Dryel! Which does not work, by the way. I often use the handwash cycle on my new-fangled washing machine. Can you believe the irony in a hand-washing cycle on your AUTOMATIC WASHING MACHINE? Oh yes, it exists. Hey! I just said irony! Iron-y. Get it? Do ya, huh? Well, I thought it was ironic. There I go again! IRON-IC! HAHAHAHAHAHA! I'm killing me, here! HAHAHAHAHA!

Ahem.

Take a look at my closet (please don't). I have a whole skirt rack of linen skirts, another one of linen pants. I even own linen shorts (and I do not typically wear shorts). I have a few linen shirts (that I rarely wear). I even have...wait for it...a linen bathrobe! YES! YOU HEARD THAT CORRECTLY!

No linen underwear, though. Aren't you glad you asked? You didn't? Well then. Moving right along...

So, I am obsessed with linen. I love Easter, when you can traditionally wear linen and white shoes again. This year I took a walk on the dangerous side and wore lined, linen dress pants on GASP!!! Palm Sunday! With off-white shoes. I know, I know, fashion faux-pas! Since when have I been fashionable?

What's the big deal about linen? You can find out everything you want to know (but were afraid to ask) here .

Bug Boy Can be Charming

2007-04-24T07:41:00.000-04:00

Bug Boy would do anything to play video games. I am not kidding on this one. We can write a list of chores as long as his arm and he does them, without complaint, and sometimes we reward him with a turn on Playstation. He is rarely allowed to play on a school day. Heck, he NEVER plays before school and only once in a while plays in the evenings. On weekends we stay busy. The grand total for the week (seven days) is somewhere in the vicinity of one to two hours, maximum.

In honor of National Kill Yer TV week, I've decided that it will ALL be off, minus the computer. He is not allowed to play the computer but it is on. This really is not all that difficult, the boys are not television junkies. The watch maybe a total of an hour of the idiot box per week. They are extremely active boys so a certain amount of outdoor time (or basement trampoline and playtime on rainy days) is necessary for all of our nerves to avoid being frayed.

This week, for some strange reason, Bug Boy has been relentless on his quest to play video games. He has always been obsessed with electronical devices (hallmark of ASDs) but this goes beyond the usual eating, sleeping and breathing. He is sneaking around. He is saying and doing anything to be allowed time. He even wants to cash in his reward tickets for extra video game time. Here is our conversation from yesterday morning before school:

Bug Boy: Mooooooom. Pleeeeease. Please, Can I play video games? I'll turn them off on time, I promise! (whining the entire time)

Me: No, Bug Boy. We've talked about this. We've also talked about the way you are asking me.

Bug Boy: Oh. Then MAY I PLEASE play video games?

Me: No! You know the rules. You need to stop asking. The rule is that there are no video games on school days and NEVER before school. Never! Now, go and get dressed.

Bug Boy pouts and hangs his head. He stomps up to his room, disappears for twenty minutes and comes back down, fully dressed. He has also brushed his teeth, washed his hands, combed his hair, washed his face and put his shoes on. This is typically something that takes us over an hour with FIVE PROMPTS and a check-off list to do. Proof that he can do it when he is motivated enough!

Bug Boy: Ok, Mom! I'm READY! I have TONS of time to play now. Hmmmm...what can I do?

Me: Bug Boy, I am glad you are dressed and ready but you are not playing video games. You know the rules. Why don't you get out a library book and read it with me? Or get your lincoln logs out?

Bug Boy: Mom! You are SOOOOOO pretty! You are pretty mom! Mom! I like your hair today! Now, May I please play playstation?

This is, coincidentally, the first time my son has ever told me I am pretty. Which I told him I appreciated. And then I told him he would not play playstation. I am a heartless woman.

This morning we had to drag ourselves out of bed, hitting the snooze several times (who invented that? I want to talk to that person!). While we were busy showering, dressing, ironing, etc, Bug Boy must have decided to sneak downstairs and play, you guessed it, video games. We both tip toed down when we went in to wake him and we was not in bed. The look on his face is one that I will never forget!

When we confronted him he knew he was caught. He also said sorry. He also asked if he could just play for a few minutes. He also told us we looked nice today. Sigh.

I know kids sneak. I know kids lie. I also know they misbehave. But sometimes it is more difficult to get through to Bug Boy. Even though he could recite a list of rules VERBATIM he still stretches or disregards them when he sees fit. That is the egocentric thinking that he possesses. That four-year-old mindset. You know, the one where THEY are the most important person in the universe and therefore whatever THEY think is good and appropriate must be the correct viewpoint? Let's just say for the sake of argument that the powers that be estimate Bug Boy's emotional and social skills to be that of a four-year-old. At the age of six. This does make things difficult. I must remember that I have to explain to a very intelligent six-year-old in a way that makes sense to a four-year-old with consequences appropriate for his age.

So, no video games. In fact, he has lost them this weekend. I am happy since I don't have to hear the music for Star Wars Lego for a while. Killing the zombie machine is not so hard to do.

Totally off topic: we received Bugaboo's progress report yesterday. For the first time in eighteen months of early intervention our child has MADE PROGRESS! I mean, I know he has made progress, but we are talking real, measurable progress towards his IEP goals. This is a grand thing, indeed. Bugaboo has had plenty of regression and difficulties this past year, the report is the best thing since sliced bread, in my opinion. He has mastered or possesses over half of his goals! WOOOHOOOO!!!

Sleepy Guys

2007-04-23T08:39:00.000-04:00

The weekend was glorious! Warm weather, fun outside, plenty of playing and plenty of things on the Honey-Do list finished. We now have bunk-beds in Bug Boy's room and mulch around our playset. The house is relatively neat (except for the oft-untidy basement playroom, but that is nothing new) minus the floor, which looks like a protest against Martha Stewart.

The boys played HARD this weekend. They were filthy-dirty, covered in mulch and grass. The sunblock seems to be a dirt magnet. My tub has RINGS, folks! I kid you not!

We thought that since they spent the majority of their time outside this weekend, climbing, running, riding bikes, playing with friends, pulling wagons and just generally being kids, they would become EXHAUSTED by bedtime. N.O.T. We thought a warm bath and a good meal in their bellies would be the catalyst for getting them to sleep soundly. W.R.O.N.G.

For some odd reason it was nearly impossible to convince them that the day was done and the mommy and the daddy were tired. All three evenings this weekend were a chore. They were literally bouncing off the walls. The fact that it is still light out when they are crawling under the covers does not help our slumber cause. Since they are up in the wee hours with the roosters and sparrows (and rabbits and the *^&$% squirrels eating my trash) they are not getting much sleep. In fact, we aren't getting much sleep. And who is more important? That's right. Me.

If Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy. If I do not receive the required (not desired, required. Let's be honest here!) amount of sleep, I do not function. At all. Add in the cold that has lingered for a month, the second round of antibiotics, the muscle relaxant for my current back issues and it all makes for one tired momma. Eight Hours. I need EIGHT HOURS. I managed to make it through the infant years because Bug Boy sleep every two hours and so did Momma. Bugaboo was one of those dreamy babies who slept seven hours his first night home and kept that up until toddlerhood, when we first suspected the seizures. Even still, he sleeps solidly through the night these days, rarely waking. When he does stir it is for a mere moment and he drifts blissfully back into slumber wrapped in momma's arms with his little feet tucked between my knees.

The past three nights I figured out (because I am a math tutor, and I am good at this stuff) that they have each received a whopping 8.5 hours of sleep a night. Since it takes me over an hour to get through my routine at night, picking up the floors and finishing chores, that leaves me with about seven hours of sleep (this is the Mj version of math we are talking about, if you are lost). I am often up before them to start breakfast or hop in the shower. 8.5 hours is not enough for these active boys. I mean, some boys can function on that. My children cannot. They are beyond reasoning with , super cranky, puffy-eyed, whining and miserable. Every little thing is a major ordeal. Here are some examples:

Since our niece was with us Saturday evening and we did manual labor for twelve hours, we decided to go our for pizza. Bugaboo normally does well at this local, family-friendly pizza joint that we frequent. At five in the evening (when kids are hungry) the place is dead. Bugaboo even sits most times, but not this time. He insisted on being in the lobby area where the take-out customers wait for their food and wanted to peruse the soda and chip section. He does not drink soda, just molests Pepsi bottles. He then found a brand of chips he recognized (because he is so picky that he can distinguish between brands of food and drinks) and would not give up. To get him to return to the table I handed him a small, blue bag of chips. He seemed satisfied. We got to the table, he had a meltdown in the booth (luckily there were only two little old ladies giving me the hairy eyeball that evening, I may have flipped them the bird). He dragged me BACK to the chips and sat and felt up the bags. After picking up three or four and hurling them behind his back, he finally found the color bag he wanted. RED. Never mind that he has never in his life had a ruffled potato chip. Tonight he was going to open that red bag at all costs. And we did. Upon returning to the table he parked himself on teh booth bench, reclining with his chips. I could not move him. I ended up sitting at the end of the table on a chair. At least he was quiet. Until he climbed under the table and ate things off of the floor. Things we did not order. Ewwwwww...

We go to TJs every week (sometimes more, because I am addicted to that place). There is this great guy there who makes balloon animals for the kids and always remembers their names. Bug Boy loves to go in with me (while Darling stays in the car with Bugaboo because Bugaboo hates to food shop) and loves getting a balloon animal or light saber, whatever is being twisted that day. We arrived at home and it was nearly bed time so Bug Boy put the animal down in order to get ready for bed. He put it down. On the floor. We have a dog. You know, with claws? Yup...let's just say that a three-hour bedtime battle ensued. He could not go to bed without a balloon animal! It was important! He would NEVER fall asleep without it! He is staying up ALL NIGHT! ALL NIGHT! He was NEVER going to bed again! We had to drive RIGHT BACK TO TJ'S!!!

More examples: Bugaboo insisting on being barefoot with no pants but had to have his winter coat on. In 80 degree weather. Bug Boy wanting to wear flip flops to church. Bug Boy sneaking binoculars into church and was surprised at my reaction. Bugaboo climbing up and bringing me every single one of his clean, empty cups from the cabinet when I told him he couldn't have more juice. Bug Boy wanting chocolate chip pancakes for dinner. Cold. Bugaboo wanting M&Ms for dinner. It got better and better all weekend.

So you see, they can be a wee bit inflexible when they are tired. Who am I kidding? They are always this inflexible. I just think it is magnified to a certain degree when they are exhausted. And when Momma is exhausted it is even MORE fun in Chez Bug Boys.

Can we reverse daylight savings time. Pleeeease?

Incarcerated Animals

2007-04-20T08:06:00.000-04:00

Back in my vegan/WWF/Save the World Days (no, not World Wrestling Federation, World WILDLIFE FUND) I would never dream of going to the zoo. My parents would take all nine thousand of us (kidding, just nine) and I would pout and dream of going to Kenya to build natural boundaries for the wildlife parks there. At the time I was completely obsessed with Elephants, knew everything there was to know about them and even sponsored one at the zoo. Although, on my teenaged babysitting salary, I was able to buy one skin wrinkle for three months.

It's all about the elephants.

The zoo is sad to me. Yes, I know, it is America's oldest zoo. I know that they work diligently on preservation. I know they participate in worldwide efforts to stop animal poaching and participate in animal husbandry to thwart our best human efforts to destroy the planet. Because, after all, if the bees start to die, so will we.

Off the soapbox we go...

Anywho, today is the kindergarten zoo trip. This unit they have been learning about the differences between reptiles, amphibians, fish, birds and mammals. They have learned about how animals reproduce (in five and six-year-old terms, that is). And now, the culmination of that lesson, the dreaded take-two-hundred-kindergarteners-to-the-zoo-for-three-whopping-hours-and-make-sure-you-hit-the-petting-zoo-for-your-healthy-dose-of-e.coli-on-the-way-out.

Some kids love the zoo. Bug Boy cannot get enough. His favorite show on the planet is Zaboomafoo and he truly understands about conservation efforts and why animals belong in their natural habitat. Bugaboo, on the other hand, HATES the zoo. Since he has limited eye contact to begin with and has difficulty with parts of his vision, he does not see what we see. To him, the zoo is a huge sensory mess, complete with loud noises, wind blowing the hair on his arm, colors running together, ants on leaves on trees a mile away and being strapped into a stroller so as not to climb into the Hippo exhibit. Again.

I promise to bite my tongue and not get on my soapbox at the zoo. I promise not to get into a discussion about how I feel with another mother. And, scouts honor, I will not lose children, pity the animals or tell the kids how I really feel. Someday they will be able to make up their own minds about Gorillas behind glass on a monkey bar (no pun intended) and perhaps they will come to the same conclusion I did. Or they will think I am a total loony, either one.

And the elephants? As sad as it is to see them in their tiny enclosure, the good news is that the Philadelphia Zoo is shipping the elephants out in May. Two (the African ones)will go to a wildlife and elephant rescue in Tennessee and one (the Asian one, the smaller of the three) will go to a large exhibit in Maryland. Our zoo tried to rebuild their habitat here but it is too expensive to keep elephants. Even if they are the main attraction here. I am sad to see them go (because I could sit and watch them all day) but happy that they are going places that are better for them.

Don't get me started on the circus being in town this week...

I Wanna Be Sedated

2007-04-19T07:48:00.000-04:00

I made it to the doc yesterday, who confirmed that the past month has not been entirely in my head. I have a herniated disc in my back!

The good news is that is most likely will heal on its own in a few weeks, provided I am a good girl. To be a good girl, I have to do the following:
No laundry
No stooping
No lifting Bugaboo (the hardest one!)
No lifting weights at the gym
Low impact workouts at the gym to stay mobile
Sit with a pillow behind my back and my feet on something to keep my hips at a 90 degree angle
Do exercises for spine stability
Stay off of my feet or rest for 15 minutes of every hour (Yeah, I laughed at that one, too)
Warm baths alternated with ice
Sports cream or Biofreeze
Anti-inflammatory and muscle relaxant (to deal with the super-intense muscle spasms)
Keep up with the chiro and stim treatments

The doc stated that I must have a high tolerance for pain, based on her tests. I kinda laughed at her. Yeah, 51 hours of natural childbirth labor followed by an epidural because they were going to rush me into the ER to deliver my first child, only to be thwarted by me pushing him out as fast as I could...yeah, I guess you could say I have a high tolerance for pain. And the second child was not much different, except that one did end in a C-section. And I took no pain meds after because I am...absolutely and completely nuts.

So I was sent home with these meds (plus a Z-Pac for the frickin' cough and sinus issues, the second round of antibiotics. Sheesh). I held off taking them for fear of being groggy or loopy around the kids. Once they were in bed, I popped the first muscle relaxant in. Nothing. I mean, I felt NOTHING. The only side effect I had was that I fell asleep immediately and woke up well-rested. I do not remember waking ONCE during the night. I get the feeling the furniture in every room could have been rearranged and I would not have noticed, I was totally sawing logs.

The best part about all of this is that I get to go get an MRI! YEAH! Just kidding. I hate them. I will be lucky if they can do it. I cannot stand being strapped down and stuck in that tube. I am currently working on dispelling my fears so that I can do this tomorrow at 3pm. Please pray for me then,will you? I know, it is all in my head. God is an awesome God and is bigger than my fears. Ain't gonna let an MRI get me. But I still have panic attacks. Luckily, I was prescribed a little mother's helper to get me through it.

The best part of the visit today is that I stepped on the scale and did not run screaming into the night. Apparently a month off from the gym causes you to LOSE weight. Nine pounds, precisely. I do not know how, only to say that I have not had any appetite since stopping the evil, hellish pills. Actually, I have had an appetite, I have just been eating what a normal woman my size would eat, rather than eating like I am carrying triplets, which is what I normally do. The doctor did warn me that I was a "good size" and that I really did not need to lose more weight. That is when I decided I needed to tell her that the last time I stepped on the scale in her office I was pigging out nine times a day and my boobs were about 3X the size they are now. I know that doesn't make that much difference, but going from a 36 DDEF to a 34 C/D is a big change, dontcha think?

The thing is I feel flabby. I haven't been to the Y in a month now, due to the back issue. Anyone that knows me knows that if I do not work out/run/walk/exercise for a minimum of 3o minutes a day, I go bat-shiat-crazy. I am like a caged animal these days, unable to do much due to my back and lingering cold. And nine pounds or no, my butt is the same size, if not larger (I know, you can all roll your eyes and cuss me out now, I deserve it.). Did you ever make a turkey??? Of course you have. You know when the grease sits in the pan while you eat the turkey, and the grease solidifies and you end up with this gelatin-like substance? Well, if you bought an organic, farm-raised turkey you don't get that. At least I didn't. Where was I? Oh yeah, the gelatin-like grease at the bottom of the pan. That is what I feel like this week. I am frustrated and ready to work, I just am not able to do it yet. Sigh. Add the lecture from the doc about how I don't need to lose weight and it sends me back fifteen years when I still made myself puke for a living.

I know y'all don't know what this is like. When you live in a family where nearly everyone is over weight there is this pressure to be skinny. I was a petite little thing (with a big butt) my whole life. So going through puberty was not fun, due to the constant criticism and comparison. Stay skinny! Watch what you eat! You are SO SKINNY!!!! WOW!!!! I hated that. I consider it to be a nasty insult, this word "skinny." It makes me nuts.I hate it when people think I can eat whatever I want. Not true. I hate it when people assume I do not have to exercise. Not true. I hate it when people think I do not work at this. NOT TRUE. I work very hard at this. No one notices because I started out smaller.

Where the heck am I going with this? Sorry, side tangent there.

Tomorrow. MRI. 3pm. Pray. Let's not have it bad enough to need surgery, mmmkay? I do not think it is, but you never know...

Bug Boy Makes Life More Fun

2007-04-18T08:39:00.000-04:00

Bug Boy has some funky irrational fears. (that doesn't sound nice)

They are not irrational to him. They are to a bunch of experts who write that on pieces of paper to get services, but I digress...

Bug Boy can be afraid of things that we have never thought about. (There, is that better?)

In the beginning, we co-slept with both Bug Boy and Bugaboo. When they each turned two we moved them to the crib and then a bed when they were ready (well, actually, Bugaboo pretty much never slept in a crib since he climbed out at fifteen months and we were still co-sleeping). No, co-sleeping did NOT ruin our sex life. It did NOT make our children clingy. It did NOT cause SIDS, as the AAP would like you to believe (because, gosh forbid you sleep with your children!). It also did not cause their autism. I was just a lazy mama who was not about to walk down the hall to nurse my babies in the middle of the night. Somtimes Darling slept in the spare room if it was a particularly rough night. For the most part, our children have been THRILLED to sleep in their own beds since the age of two, and love their rooms.

The past few weeks with Bug Boy have been hairy, at best. He sneaks down to the Living Room while we are in the family room watching television or working in the kitchen. He climbs behind the couch or under the Dining Room table and falls asleep there, barricaded in by the couch cushions and pillows. When we've found him down there (after performing the nightly bed checks and realizing he has been missing for a few minutes) we have sent him right back to bed, only to find him asleep in our bed, on his floor, in Bugaboo's room, in the hallway and once asleep on his bathroom floor. He has not fallen asleep in his bed in three weeks.

A few years back we received (for free) a single-bed-sized car bed for Bug Boy. He was three and growing out of the toddler bed. Bugaboo was moved into the toddler-sized car bed that my crazy brother bought him on eBay. They seemed to enjoy the beds, although they NEVER slept (it was over a year before we found out about the night terrors and seizures). The toddler bed was uncomfortable and Bugaboo hated it. When we moved it went into the yearly borough yard sale. Bug Boy kept his bed. The only problem is that the bed (molded plastic) had vent holes in it. And our house is chock full of spiders and creepy crawlies this time of year, due to the swamp-like conditions outside. So, guess where they sometimes end up? Yup, in the vent holes of the molded plastic of his car bed. We have to vacuum it out about once a month, which requires taking the entire bed apart. How did we find out about this, you ask? Well, not long after we received the car bed (which was stored on my friend's porch) we noticed Bug Boy was waking up COVERED in bites from an unknown insect or spider. He would develop these severe reactions to them and a few times had cellulitis. He has not had bites in over a year because we have been diligent about cleaning out the bed. But a few weeks ago, Bug Boy had a nasty dream. And now he will not go to bed.

We have toyed with the idea of getting rid of the bed for some time. I have wanted to get a bunk bed or captain's style bed for sometime. I'd really like to get a bunkbed with a trundle under it so that when we have the cousins or other guests over, Bugaboo can sleep on the bottom bunk of Bug Boy's room and the guests can use Bugaboo's bed, which was the original thought behind buying him that frickin' expensive mattress. Right now Darling's Sister and her husband sleep on that gosh-awful futon in the basement, which is fine, but it is FAH-REE-ZING cold down there and sleeping on that futon is like sleeping on 2X4s. Literally. The futon is made of 2X4s.

Where was I again?

Oh yeah.

So, he won't sleep on his bed. This weekend we have decided to look for a replacement bed. In the meantime we are going to take the bed out of his room and put the mattress on the floor. I now have three days to convince my husband that we need to go to IKEA to look for the bunk beds, since it will be more cost effective (and savvy-er, if that is a word) and they will look nice. He hates IKEA, in case you are wondering. Hates it with a passion, and we STILL have the white-foil-MDF bed that he has had since a preteen, and he will not allow me to get rid of it, no matter how shabby the bed is! ACK!

Do not even get me started on the bathroom issues at school...

Get Out of The Funk

2007-04-17T08:49:00.000-04:00

I do not know what my problem is today.

I am in a funk deeper than the water still sitting in my backyard.

I am going to go out on a limb here and say that because the past two weeks have been hectic and stressful, I am totally crashing today. CRASH!

I have held it together (barely) for two weeks, through a nasty cold, through the worst back injury I have ever had, through fever, through Bugaboo peeing all over my house. I am thinking that I am entitled to a mental health break today.

I know my friends are wondering why they haven't heard from me or seen me. I do call them back once in a while, but right now I just do not have the brain function for lengthy conversations about espadrilles and preschool. I do not have the energy for long walks with baby carriages or treks to the mall or IKEA. I do not have the emotional stability to hang out with my friends whose toddlers are either younger than Bugaboo and are reciting the Gettysburg address or are the same age and have been accepted to MIT (or the preschool equivalent). Is that selfish? I mean, they are the same supportive friends who pick me up when I am down, take me out to breakfast for my birthday and bring me flowers and books just because. But today I just do not want to hear about them, their kids or their lives. I just cannot do it.

I am not having a pity day, just a "I'm-not-taking-a-shower-just-because-I-don't-have-to-go-anywhere-and-by-the-way-I-am-going-to-eat-a-crappy-lunch" day. I am having one of those days where I just need to have silence for a few hours, not answer the phone, not do anything I don't have to. Except for the three appointments I have to make today, I am not even touching the phone. I am not going out in public. Here is where I stay. Only the bus drivers and the kids I watch will know my dirty, little, odorous secret. MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

Darn. Already cut and dyed my hair. Can't do that today. Perhaps toenails? Hmmmm....

I Just Don't Get It

2007-04-16T16:52:00.000-04:00

You know, this awful thing happened today.

At Virginia Tech, many people were killed (including the gunman) when someone went around the campus shooting. At last count it was 31. And, I indirectly know someone who goes there and he e-mailed and said that he was on lock down while they searched for the gunman. In the building he was in at that very moment.

Needless to say, this person is shaken, upset, sad and confused. He may or may not have lost several colleagues and students. And, while he sat there on the floor of his room away from windows with police outside the door, he was able to check the Internet for information, since no one could really tell them anything.

Nearly a half hour after it started they were already reporting casualties on CNN and Fox News. By 9am the experts were analyzing the situation. Before they even had the gunman caught (at least, confirmed). Students were in lock down. Bodies were everywhere. But the news channels already had gun and violence "experts" reporting with shreds of information. We are talking slivers here, people. They were not only making a mountain out of a molehill (not saying the situation wasn't bad, but they were fabricating 90% of their stories) but they were basically reporting every ten seconds. They were already interviewing students "eye witnesses" and victims. They were there before the police.

Want to know my problem with this? As with every other atrocity on the news, they are more concerned with getting the story out first and less concerned with reporting accurate facts. Instead of waiting until a real press conference or until they have their facts checked, they report the first thing they hear. No one, and I mean no one, knows exactly what happened yet. The police are still finding bodies and victims. They are still conducting interviews. They are still looking for evidence. Yet, the various channels, Web sites and radio stations are reporting five minute segments on the aftermath. And it is barely over.

No wonder people get confused. No wonder we get stories mixed up. No wonder rumors fly. When you have something like this reported and they say it was a student, no a homeless guy, no an unidentified Asian, no a _________, everyone has a different version of the truth. And for some reason, when these horrors occur, we have a tough time NOT reading or watching it. Remember 9/11? Who doesn't! I remember watching the Today Show that day, having it come on, refusing to watch it and take the babies for a walk and then coming back and finding myself GLUED to the television sobbing all day. And even then they were reporting 7 attacks, 5 attacks, 9 attacks. 5,000 people dead at the WTC, 2,000 people dead, 10,000 people dead. No one really knew for days, weeks and months what REALLY happened. And yet, it was on all day, every channel.

The Media isn't all bad. I just feel they have an obligation to get information to people in the best way possible. Lately it seems they are trying to be faster than fast food. That really irks me.

For respect of the victims they could at least wait until they have all of the facts straight.

HALP!

2007-04-16T07:43:00.000-04:00

HALP!

There is a grand conspiracy afoot. Someone told the weather people that Bugaboo is ending his two week break today and decided to forecast this yucky wet storm. And now there is SNOW on the ground, and a two-hour delay to boot. Do y'all have ANY idea how much this messes them up? Autie's don't like changes in their schedules!

To top it off, Bug Boy has literally not ceased using his mouth to make noise since the rooster crowed. I kid you not. If he isn't talking, he's singing. If he isn't singing, he's humming. If he isn't humming he is making sound effects from Star Wars with his mouth. AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!

And, I have a long-awaited doctor's appointment at 10, which I now have to bring Bug Boy to. And then hurry so I can drop him right off as soon as it is done, two hours late.

Out of the Mouths of Bug Boys

2007-04-15T20:56:00.000-04:00

We had somewhat of a busy weekend. We did not really HAVE to do much but we decided that the only way to preserve our collective sanity was to keep the kids moving. After Soccer practice we headed home, did a quick House Blessing and picked up every room. We knew that Sunday meant massive rain so we did as much outside as we could to get ready for the deluge. If Lake Erie is going to grace us with its presence in our backyard we needed to pick up toys and doggie piles (because that is really naaaasty after the rain, I kid you not. Soupy Poopy, nothing like it!). I was exhausted after a few hours because of the continuing back pain so Darling took the boys out for a short time while I napped. Once I woke up I decided that the very thought of getting my pots and pans dirty was enough to send me into a coma and pulled my best puppy-dog-eyed routine and scored a dinner to Panera! w00t! So off we went.

Bug Boy was not a happy camper. He likes Panera but wanted desperately to zone out on Star Wars Lego (his current OCD/stim/PDD fix). He complained the entire five minute drive to Mommy's favorite cheapo dinner place that he, "Did not think Panera was very healthy and might make you fat!" Once we got there the tune was changed. Suddenly a grilled cheese kids meal was the best thing for a growing boy to eat since it has plenty of coliseum to help his broken arm (never mind that the arm has been healed for eleven months now). In fact, getting a drink from the fountain was the most fun he had, "all day, no, ALL WEEK!" The boys were nearly 3/4 of the way though their food before we even sat. I barely had one bite of my soup (surprise, POTATO!) before Bug Boy looked up from his sandwich, sighed, glanced around with a huge grin on his face and stated quite matter-of-factly that Panera was, "Quite a fancy place! This place is soooo pretty, mom! It's sooooo elegant!" Yup. That whopping $15 dinner for four. That is one classy place!

Since we were not quite finished punishing ourselves taking our children out to a public place (remember, any public outing with Bugaboo comes with ear-piercing shrieks, items we did not intend to buy that he smuggled out of the store and his random disappearing acts) we headed to the mall. On a Saturday Night. Forgetting that it was teeny-bopper social time and prom season...

It was worth it since I finally found a pair of black, heeled, low-cut boots to wear with jeans. But I digress...

After an hour of the most fun I've ever had in my life with the kids at the mall (yes, being facetious here. Does the sarcasm show?) Darling decided that since it was 8:30 he would go the shortest route home (just kidding! Of COURSE he went the loooooong way that he thinks is shorter. Never mind that I am the expert at back roads and he took all of the wrong ones!). Bug Boy reminded us that he was thirsty. And he was six. And Tyler is seven and has heelies. SEVEN. Got that? SEVEN, and he has heelies. Bug Boy also reminded us that he will be SEVEN in no less than eight months, so he will wait for his heelies. And Darling was kind enough to speak up and say that our rule was eight, at which time I gave him the hairy eyeball, which also came with miniature pointy daggers that I fantasized going into his eyeballs and face because I was so pissed about the whole heelies conversation (my child will never have a $70 pair of sneakers with wheels in them that he cannot wear to school or in public or ride on the sidewalk. Not to mention that we have a propensity for breaking bones in freak accidents in our family.)

Where was I? Oh yes. Long back roads, Bug Boy thirsty (Singing, "Da, Da, dadadaDAda" Star Wars theme), Mommy thinking about drinking (does that make me an alcoholic?) a glass a wine the moment the boys are asleep. So we did what any good parent would do, we headed to Wawa to get Bug Boy an iced tea at Nine pm. Mommy helped herself to a Decaf Mocha (homemade, half hot chocolate from the machine and half 6-hour-old decaf coffee from the pot). But they did not have the favorite brand of Iced Tea, so Bug Boy let us know he did not think he would enjoy that particular iced tea but would try. I asked him to be flexible, at which time he pointed out that he, "Would never be flexible. Because I am not flexible. I will NEVER be flexible, guys." We looked at each other with the sad realization that what he just told us was true...

After church on Saturday we thought about staying home for the whole day but once again decided we were too lazy to chase Bugaboo around for several hours so we took our aquarium membership and set out in the pouring rain. Thinking it would be abso-smurfly-crowded we prepared for massive crowds and screaming Bugaboo. SURPRISE! Not crowded! But flooded! Getting out of there without driving through rain water as high as our car took some maneuvering on Darling's part. And since he cannot find his way out of a paper bag and I was not talking to him (because he kept going left which made us go in a square, like, three times y'all! THREE! And he'd say, "I don't know which way to go!" And I'd say, " There's the river! We need to go back WEST because we live in that state over THERE!" And Bug Boy said, "You guys! Stop it! You are being rude and not using good manners! Apologize right NOW!") it took many extra minutes to find our way back home. By the time we got there we were all bushed but Bugaboo does not typically take naps, so I devised a plan to go walk around Tarzhay for the remainder of the afternoon. This was, of course, thwarted, when I dropped Darling off, ran in to use the loo and went back to the car to Bugaboo sawing logs.

So, Darling and I took a nap. Bug Boy got his electronics stim/fix in. Bugaboo took a nap (that now that I am thinking about, he may have needed because I am fairly certain there was some seizure activity with all of the jackasses attempting to take photos of fish at the aquarium. With flashes. Against five-inch-thick panes of glass. ). We woke up, had a decent dinner and decided to do Tarzhay and TJ's in the absolute pouring rain. Shopping with Darling is never as much fun because he wants to stick to the list and won't let me browse the sale racks and clearance areas. But Bug Boy helps derail that by remembering things that we need, like"" TAPE! And BATTERIES! And MATCH BOX CAR RAMPS WITH THE 360 DEGREE CAR SPINNER!!! AND I BROUGHT MY TEN DOLLARS! Look! Here it is in my pocket! How did it get in there?!?!"

Little things make Bug Boy happy, like the cool guy at TJ's who makes the food and balloon animals. "You are the BEST balloon animal guy ever, Walt!" And, "Excuse me! May I please have some stickers? I used good manners!" When we finally got home, trimmed the little Bug Boy hairs (M&Ms help tremendously to bribe certain Bugaboos from crying, even this anti-ABA girl can appreciate a little behavior mod!), trimmed their dirty nails, gave them baths after a four-day hiatus, fairly certain that the neighbors will report us to CYS for going four days without washing our filthy children, who actually get pimples and body odor, I kid you not.

They went to bed. I am elated.

Please join me in celebrating at 8:40 am Monday morning when I am FREE! FREE! FREE!! of children! WAHOOO!!!!!

This Just In

2007-04-12T07:43:00.001-04:00

I've figured out the source of my backaches.

Aunt Flo.

No really! Go ahead, laugh yourself silly. I'll wait. There, there, feel better?

Four weeks ago it seemed like coincidence that I hurt my back just before Aunt Flo's visit. I mean, I do not really get cramps, I usually get muscle spasms in my back. I am one of those lucky people who have a uterus that is not quite in the anatomically correct position. In other words, it is tilted towards the back instead of the front and it kinda hangs to the right. I kid you not! This is one of the reasons the docs gave me for my difficulties with labor. I always have back spasms when Aunt Flo is here. When I was in labor both time I had nothing but back labor. Nothing in the front! It was excruciating! This is what it feels like, I kid you not. Except today I am a little better.

I finally got my rear end to the chiro and it is helping tremendously. The problem lies in the fact that the chiro basically wants me to come in every other day until I am standing properly upright. He also wants me to ice and heat and then put biofreeze on it four times a day. Yes, I know, I looked at him like he had three heads, too. I mean, he wants me to SIT DOWN? And not do any housework for a week? Not lift laundry baskets or load and unload the dishwasher? And I have to sit and put my feet up for fifteen minutes an hour? What planet is this guy living on?

I love my chiropractor. He knows what is best for me. The truth is, I had not been to the chiro in a year because of my schedule with the boys and I really wish I would get myself there more often. If I went once a week, I could keep my back healthy. The reality of it is that I just do not leave any time for me. As Mommy Brain put it, I am a card-carrying member of the Too-Stupid-To-Say-No Club, or the TSTSN for short. I cannot say "NO!" to people when they ask me for help. So I helped my sister last week when she had no one to watch her daughter for two days (which I really, honestly do not mind doing, since we hadn't seen her in a few weeks!) , I watch my friends' boys (both with autism) when she had her four hour IEP meeting, I watch Bugaboo's school chum (A) during breaks (like this two-weeker) because his mommy is a single mommy who teaches full time and has NO ONE at all for support and back-up, except for her elderly mother, who cannot watch the kid for ten minutes. I also watch the neighbor's kids (3) before and after school. And if that isn't enough, I occasionally watch other friends children here and there for meetings, appointments and the like. The short version of this tome is that I usually have six to eight kids running around this house at all times. Even on days when I am "off" I really do not ever have a break. But I keep thinking, "I can handle this! I can do this! I was raised with six other children, plus foster children and neighbors' kids! This is nothing!" And then I remember my mother's state of mind and realize that she was on her manic mood swing most of this time.

This morning Darling even had the audacity to SLEEP IN. He heard Bugaboo early this morning and completely ignored it. I got in the shower early (no, I really got in the shower ON TIME, but it is earlier than I have been!) and got out and I could still hear Bugaboo. Then I noticed the alarm was reset and Darling had the pillows and blankets over his head. He has been working twelve-hour days, and I feel badly for him, but I get NO BREAKS EVER! He has the luxury of having vacation days that he can take when he needs or wants or taking a sick day (like last Monday!) when he feels like it. Me? Sleeping in for me is him getting up, getting them juice and then sitting in front of the tv or computer until Bugaboo is pounding on the door and I come down and give him the hairy eyeball. At eight am. A day off? I have never actually had one. My sisters and I are desperately trying to plan one. If I do not get it soon I may sell my children to the gypsies and blow the money on crystal meth (just kidding).

What was the point of this before my little tangent? Oh yeah. I do not take care of myself. I pledged that this was going to be my year, my time to finally get myself together. I am not hitting those goals I set so far. Methinks I need to organize this a little better!

What I Love About the Internets

2007-04-11T12:59:00.000-04:00

Really, people.

This Internet business is really far-out. I mean that in the nicest possible way.

I love the Internet. Whenever I do not know the answer to something or I am just curious (or have a morbid fascination with a particular topic) I just go to the Google and look it up. There are Web sites I stalk daily. There are friends' blogs I read to get a glimpse of what makes their minds tick. There are sites I read for news and entertainment. There are contest sites I check out for the fun of it.

Movie tix? Check the times on Yahoo. Need the definition for a word? Dictionary.com. Need an encyclopedia? Wikipedia. Want to find a Web site? Google it.

I have so many bookmarks on my Firefox browser my husband cannot stand it. Firefox for him? Fuhgeddaboudit. He's an IE guy all the way. I get to download all of the fun plugins and he can suffer for all I care. HA! Told him not to download the update for IE! It stinks!

The most interesting thing I have found are people's blogs. Their personal insights to a variety of topics. I visit friends and strangers alike. I have found people from across the country that share the same issues, whether it be Autism, potatoes or distaste for 24 and American Idol (sorry, folks, cannot watch. And no matter what anyway says, I love Sanjaya!). I love the fact that I can look up the obscure medical issues my children face at the click of the button. I love that in addition to the local support groups I attend, I can find people from other states (and countries!) that are going through EXACTLY what I go through. Kinda. Except in a different place, with different whether and different types of hot sauce poured on their carpets and couches.

There are drawbacks. Writing a blog almost begs for comments. You have to take the positive with the negative. I have seen other people SKEWERED on their own personal sites. That is the risk you take when you put your private life on a very public forum. Other people do read this stuff. I have many more people lurking than commenting and that is ok. I am not sure I truly want hundreds of folks commenting anyway. You can not believe EVERYTHING you read on the net, some of this is absolute garbage. If you don't believe that, I have this nifty little investment idea in Nigeria you might wanna check out.

This can be a dangerous tool, this World Wide Web. Children are stalked endlessly on it by predators. Heck, ADULTS are stalked. Your personal information can be put ANYWHERE. No site is truly secure. Even pictures of your children can be swiped and photoshopped into some nasty things (one of the reasons I took the pics of the boys down, I've seen what people do!). There are some real sickos out there.

But there are also great people. So many of the blogs I visit are a real network of support. Whether their cause is international adoption, terminally ill children, extreme medical issues, Autism, homeschooling, religion, you can find a great group of people that will stand behind you even though they have never met you. Heck, I found Flylady and trusted what she wrote and then found a fabulous group of women in the process. These girls would literally give you the shirts off their backs. They help each other out, make dinners, watch children, have coffee together, donate items to one another. A more fantastic group I have never met.

So, for all of its dangers and traps, this Internet stuff is pretty cool. It can open up a whole world to explore, if used correctly and in the right hands. For my Darling it is a way to drive me absolutely crazy shopping for cars and playing Miami Dice. Either way, I am glad I found ya!

One More Camp Idea

2007-04-10T07:53:00.000-04:00

After discussing it briefly with Darling last evening, we have a few more tricks up our sleeves. I have to keep remembering there are a few free things I can sign Bug Boy up for this summer, like the library reading program. So, without further ado, here are our new scenarios:

-the local elementary school has a Y-affiliated camp that they run for $20 cheaper per week than the regular Y camp. It is on the school grounds, five minutes from our home, and they still go swimming, do the arts and crafts, etc. He will be inside for a portion of the day (lunch and arts and crafts) so that helps with the outside-all-day-thing and his heat intolerance issues. The only drawback is that it is from 9 to 5, and that is a looooong day for him.

-We have considered doing a week of the Future stars and then two weeks of the cheaper Y camp. Or a week of Future Stars and a week of nature camp. If we can find a combo it would be great. I have to talk to Darling a little further about this. My first choice (if money were no object) would be to send him to future starts, since it is a well-rounded program with a low staff/camper ratio (5 to 1 or 6 to 1 at worst!) and the Y camp is 10 to Y. They both offer a variety of activities and swimming, but the Y is once a week instead of daily.

-I think I have decided against Nature Camp altogether. It sounds AWESOME and I know he'd have fun, but I am worried about the bug/heat thing. Darling agrees.

I kind of wish that we could just send him to the specialized camp from last year. He had so much fun there and really blossomed, I just feel that he is going to be held back there. It means that instead of attending all summer he will only attend three or four weeks at best. He does not qualify for extended school year (which is a total crock, but they do not provide it for kids like him) so it has to be out of pocket. Grrr...

I am glad I do not even have to think about it for Bugaboo. He goes to year-round school!

UPDATE: It gets even better! I just found out that two local rec associations run summer camps for five weeks, half days and it is amazingly cheap. Like $150 for all five weeks. I think we are going to do that, and then sign Bug Boy up for one week additionally someplace else. That way we have him busy up until the beginning of August! WOOHOO!

One Down, One to Go

2007-04-09T08:40:00.000-04:00

Friday I hit rock bottom. Not Bugaboo, ME. I HIT ROCK BOTTOM. I think if I wasn't feeling so crummy I could have handled it better. Well, except for when he poured the hot sauce all over the house. And I mean all over! Rug, couch, wood floor, linoleum, appliances, nothing was spared! But thanks for all of your words of encouragement. Today I am much better. Well, except for my back!

Bug Boy goes back to school today after a week-hiatus. We spent the week doing playgroups with his buddies from school, reading every book in his library, building forts and ramps all over the house and basically just talking. We talked about things he likes, things he does NOT like (red food, except for Salsa and ketchup) and how he does not like the fire whistle in S'more. In fact, he made sure he told me each and every time he heard it this week.

This morning he was quite excited to be going back. Bug Boy is certainly a routine-oriented child. He likes his sameness, he likes knowing what to expect. Despite my best efforts to give him a weekly and daily schedule this week (and the distraction of his cousin staying with us from Wednesday to Friday) he was still off. By Sunday he was anxious and short-tempered. When we began packing his lunch and picking out his clothing in preparation for today, he was suddenly a changed-child. He thrives in his school environment and routines. I am thinking harder about summer camp now.

Last year he attended a camp specifically for children on the spectrum. He was in a great group with boys just like him. He was relaxed and happy and had a wonderful time. He also attended all summer, for free.

This year we feel he has made plenty of progress, basically disqualifying him from the camp. We do not want him to back-track and so we want to send him to a typical camp for a few weeks. The problem is they all cost tons of money, anywhere from, $175 to $400 a week. Depending on where we decide to send him, he may get to go for one week or four weeks. The Y camp is too sports oriented and they spend too much time outside. Since Bug Boy has exercise intolerance and heat/sweat issues (part of the metabolic stuff) I do not want him outside in the blazing sun for six hours a day. It could cause him to seize or to dehydrate very quickly. We found a neat camp run at the college for $250-$275 a week (Future Stars, I kinda like the way it sounds) and they have a schedule almost like school. They do academics, arts and crafts, sports, swimming, computers, drama, you name it. This is my favorite of all of the camps so far and we could send him for two weeks. A well-rounded program right in town where he may have school friends attending. The last camp we are considering is modestly priced at $160 a week. We could afford to send him for 3 weeks. It is a Nature Camp run at the arboretum. He would be under nature's canopy learning about bugs, trees, plants, creek life and weather. He would be running around the woods with his school buddy (which is how I found out about it). But he would also be eaten alive by bugs, and he is allergic to mosquitoes. I'd have to spray him with chemicals everyday. He would also be outside, although it may be cooler there since he'd be in a wooded area. They do not do swimming there but they do get to go to a creekside swimming hole and play in sprinklers each day.

He will go to camp but Darling and I must decide in the next two weeks. I hate being pressured! At least I do not even have to consider what to do with Bugaboo this year. He has year-round school! Easy decision!

It's Getting All Kinds of Crazy Round These Here Parts

2007-04-06T10:32:00.000-04:00

I am thinking of going to the hospital and asking for a Prozac Drip. I've had it up to HERE (Imagine my hand by my eyebrows). Bugaboo is making me insane and sucking me down into his little vortex of crazy.

The doctors have long maintained that they do not think he is your classic case of Autism (as if there is one, supposedly everyone is different, think snowflakes). He has some real neurological issues that no one can place. He has something genetic going on (but not Fragile X, the usual male-linked and familial cause of developmental delays, usually what they look for when more than one family member has these issues). But today I have hit rock bottom with him. CAN SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THE &%$* is going on with MY KID?

He has been stripping and peeing all over my house. It smells awful.

He has hit his head several times and has bled all over, he doesn't feel it, he just rubs his head, face, lets it drip off of his nose, etc.

He bites his arms, elbows (yes, elbows, he is amazingly flexible) and knees until they bleed.

He breaks doors. He opens and closes them until the hinges break off or the door snaps off. He breaks every drawer in the house. Yes, we have baby locks. They are made for BABIES, not four-and-a-half-year-olds. He breaks those.

But then he sits on my lap, hugs and kisses me, calls me momma. My heart melts. And right now it aches more than I can describe. I am so tired of this! I cannot do this! I do not even want to think about what it will be like when he is older.

I long to hear my son's voice. I want to explain things to him and have him answer me back. I want him to have impulse control. He knows he is not supposed to do certain things and yet he CANNOT STOP HIMSELF. He just cannot stop moving. Ever. We even hear him thrashing about in his sleep.

No one said this would be easy. I know that. I am not looking for easy. I am just praying that it doesn't have to be THIS hard always. I just want him to eat the flipping cereal instead of screaming, because he liked it yesterday. In fact, he has LOVED it for six months. Today he hates it, but loves apple pie. Go figure.

Not that I'd ever do it, but I now understand how parents completely lose it and put their kids in cages to keep them safe. They do not know what else to do. I understand why people duct tape diapers on. I understand why they put more locks than the federal treasury on their doors. I understand why they never want to go out in public with their kids. There is all of this "help" out there, and yet no one can really help with these things. It is what it is.

I am not giving up the fight. I am just giving up on the battle today. I just cannot do this. I need to recharge, refresh, repurpose. I need to review why I need to do this. Heck, I thought I'd make it to church today. At this point, it looks like I am going to be observing Good Friday from home. I cannot picture Bugaboo going with me. I do not think they have ever seen a nekkid, peeing, autistic child in that church. And they won't. I will not bring him until he can control himself.c

29 out of 30 days I am positive, motivated, willing to do anything for my child. Today I cannot even stand being near him, it brings me to tears. I feel a little guilty over that. But not really. I am guessing others feel this way on occasion.

Movie Review

2007-04-05T08:56:00.000-04:00

Today I am going to review a piece of cinematic treasure. A movie that, at its time of release, was like no other film of its kind. . It is one of the movies that makes you laugh, cry and become angry all at the same time. I am talking about...

The Wedding Singer. (1998)

Please do not laugh. It is seriously one of my favorite films of all times. I am sure it has something to do with the fact that it was set while I was in high school (well, eighth grade and then high school) and the soundtrack is exactly what I think of when I think of the music I listened to in that time period. It is one of those catchy, feel-good, laugh-at-silly-jokes kind of movies. You know, the ones were you should not laugh but you do? I mean, c'mon, Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore falling in love, what could be funnier than that?

Robbie Hart (Sandler) is a wedding singer at your quintessential eighties-tacky-ruffled-tux reception hall. He is a fairly decent singer and a great entertainer. In a small town where everyone knows everyone else, he is the only one to hire for weddings anyway. One night at work he meets newcomer Julia (Barrymore), a waitress at the hall and cousin to town tramp Holly (Christine Taylor). They genuinely like each other and Robbie tells her he is to be married the following week. Sweet Julia is thrilled to be working that day and peeks around the trees at his wedding just in time to see poor Robbie get stood up by his fiance, Linda. After going completely bonkers at the next wedding he has to work, a mere five days after his canceled nuptials, Julia lets him know about her own upcoming nuptials to Miami-Vice wannabe, Glenn. Julia somehow sweet-talks Robbie into helping her plan her upcoming wedding since Glenn is unwilling to do so with her. So Robbie and Julia become close friends, and unbeknownst to them, they fall in love in the process. After a few months of hanging out together and planning Julia's wedding they are more than friends. The problem is that Linda wants Robbie back and Glen wants to elope with Julia. After a few missed opportunities they somehow end up on a plane bound for Vegas, where Robbie saves the day. With the help of Billy Idol, that is.

What I love about this film: The soundtrack, the clothes, the references to 80s pop culture, From Michael Jackson's glove to Flock of Seagulls to Miami Vice! The ruffled tuxes, the big hair, miniskirts, it is all there.

What I wish they did differently: The end is a little cheesy for such a funny and light-hearted flick. I still liked it but it was major Hollywood cheese factory product. I also could have done without the language, as I am one of those people who cannot stand listening to it. This film has a few s-words and one f-word. There is some innuendo but it is a fairly tame film.

Look for: Christine Taylor (from the Brady Bunch Movie, married to Ben Stiller), Alexis Arquette as George (and from the Arquette acting family), Christina Pickles (from St. Elsewhere), Cameos from Billy Idol, Steve Buscemi, Kevin Nealon, Jon Lovitz and other personal friends of Adam Sandler.

Rated PG-13.

Hewwo. I feew wousy today.

2007-04-04T08:51:00.000-04:00

Why is it that my house goes to heck in a hand basket whenever I am sick?

I really have not been up to doing much the past two days but at least kept up with the room rescues and dishes. That alone saved my sanity. But the past two lovely days (and the lovely days last week) of glorious, warm weather sealed the fate of my floors. I just finished sweeping up (with a broom ) three dustpans full of sand and filth. Ugh.

Darling is a great hubby. Last evening, when I had to take Bug Boy to soccer practice with a 101.6 fever (and Bugaboo, who would not stay in the stroller and tried to escape about fifty time) he actually came home with Wendy's for the kids and my fav Wawa Chicken Noodle Soup for me! What a guy! The part that makes it even better? I had the oven on and dinner sitting ON THE STOVE and walked in and it was still sitting there. I had forgotten to put my yummy stuffed shells in the oven. So when Darling saw that he decided to take care of dinner, since he knew I would be in tears when I walked in and saw it. He may not say much, but he spoke volumes last night! The best part? Dinner is prepared for this evening, if I remember to cook it! And no dishes last night!

I went to bed early last evening completely disgusted with the state of our house. I did manage to get the master bath cleaned as soon as I got out of the shower yesterday. It took five minutes and the kids were still asleep so I took advantage of the time. It looks much better in there, just need to sweep the floor. And paint the pepto-bismol pink walls that sorta look like a flamingo threw up in there. Oh, if only I could paint those walls...

So here I am, feverless (at the moment) but still a bit sick. I am trying to decide if I am to cancel Bugaboo's appointment for allergy testing and blood work and make and appointment with my own doctor. Bugaboo's appointment was made THREE MONTHS AGO and I would hate to miss it, but I know I am not up to driving down there, nor am I up to sitting there with him in the waiting room (it is nearly always a forty-five minute wait at Allergy Clinic!) while he runs away and tries to get on the elevator or climb into the train display, or sit in the exam room for another hour before the doctor sees us or sit in the exam room while the doc sees us and then leaves to write treatment into the computer (another hour!), making the whole ordeal about three hours long. And if that is not enough punishment for us, we usually have to do scratch testing and/or blood work at the end of the ordeal, rushing in there before the blood bank closes at five. Then I have to drive home in rush-hour traffic with no food, one diaper left and groggy and queasy. Usually I call my sister and beg her to take pity on me for an hour or two, since I do not want to drive home with a hungry Bugaboo. The whole experience is that much sweeter when Bug Boy accompanies me. Today I set up a play date while I am at the doctor with Bugaboo. That is, if I go.

Honestly, I do not feel like going. I need to take care of me. Going to that appointment would NOT be taking care of me. I think I've made up my mind. Allergy testing can wait, he has yet to come up with anything that Bugaboo is allergic to anyway.

Back to the house.

I know, I know. I am sick. I am overwhelmed. No one expects my house to be spotless with Bugaboo around. No one expects me to be able to keep up with him and housework too. I have alot on my plate, blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda. No offense, but those are excuses. There is no reason why I cannot have a relatively clean house with Bugaboo off for two weeks. I am NOT giving up. It will look decent in here. Not perfect, just good enough. So today, despite how I feel, I WILL run the vacuum so that I do not have to walk on grains of sand of toast crumbs any longer. I WILL get the dog hair dust bunnies off of my floor. I WILL make the beds and pick up around here, and I WILL get the laundry put back through. And forget asking me to get someone to help, Darling is currently working twelve hours (yes, I know I work, too) and he already takes care of the kids (baths, pjs, playtime and bedtime) as soon as he walks in the door. Then he sits back down and works for three more hours. So I am not asking him to pick up the slack.

I was lamenting to my sister-in-law the other day about how I wish this house were tidy and clean. I told her I wish I could find the time to get it all done, but that it was impossible to do anything with Bugaboo around. This is partly true. She commiserated with me and just said I needed to do what I could and not go crazy. She indicated that it would be temporary. She also said she has problems getting it all done and she is a SAHM with a three-year-old WITHOUT Autism. That night Darling let me in on a secret. Dearest SIL has a CLEANER that comes EVERY TUESDAY to clean the house! She has had one for years! NOT FAIR!!!!!

Enough complaining. It is nine am and Bugaboo has just stripped for the forth time in two hours...I need to get after him before I have to add carpet steaming and mopping to my list for today.

Painfully Obvious

2007-04-03T11:46:00.000-04:00

While we were at my favorite red-dot-store-that-rhymes-with-Barget this morning, I ventured over to the pharmacy to get the next month's supply of Bugaboo's meds. They know me by name and never have to ask. I merely show up and they grab my stuff. That is how often I am there!

Anywho, while there I saw a mom pushing her little guy around in a special stroller. He was in his footy pjs (like my kids!) and had some physical challenges. We chatted a bit while we waited. Her little boys smiled and laughed. He just couldn't move.

I am guessing he was two-years-old but because of his physical limitations he could be small for his age. But as we left (and ran into them again at the elevator) I have to admit I was nearly in tears just thinking about that little boy. I cannot even imagine what his parents have gone through to this point. He has a feeding tube and mickey and has sensors to make sure he is breathing and his heart keeps beating. He cannot independently move out of that chair. His every need is taken care of by his mother and nurse (who was with them). She had a cart full of Easter stuff, my guess is that she has other children. Four, from the amount of goodies in her cart!

Why did this affect me so? Her child's condition is fairly obvious. On first sight most people could guess that he had Cerebral Palsy. He may even have been a preemie, due to his small size. I really do not know. Most people know what to expect with a child with CP. Often their brains are intact (average to mildly below average intelligence ) and their bodies cannot move. Sometimes it is more severe. A child with Down's Syndrome has obvious physical features. Most people know that they have developmental delays and often speech issues. But a child with Autism? Most times they look like everyone else. I do not know if this is a blessing or a curse.

At least with my child no one will have a preconceived notion of what to expect from him. I know that this is debatable, since each child with a disability is different, even within their own diagnoses. People are usually shocked to find out that my children have issues, on first sight. Once they observe their behavior I usually get a knowing glance (the, "It's-ok, I-have-a disabled-child, too!" look, like this morning) or a pity glance (the "Wow! Sucks-to-be-you!") or better still, the "Look-of-horror-and-disgust-combined-with-embarrassment-and-wanting-to-shrink-away-and get-their-child-out-of-there-before-they-catch-something-contagious" look. Those of you with children with "issues" (because I hate the word disability, really) know what I am talking about.

The thing is that even though people aren't going to judge my children right off the bat like some children they also will not be given any allowances. People will assume (and they do!) that they are normal and just spoiled. Or give me dirty looks in the grocery when Bugaboo is shrieking, buzzing, flapping, stimming, etc. I even get little old lady (and some young ladies) scolding me for not using the belt, which he has taken off about fifty times. My only defense is to repeat the grocery mantra, "You need to sit! Sit down! That is unsafe! Sit in the cart! Do not climb out!" and I still have my hands on him the ENTIRE TIME, yet he manages to jump out while I am checking eggs and run laps around the store. The people at TJs know all about us, as they do at the little co-op in town (which isn't truly a co-op, but I digress). I felt compelled to tell them so they'd be a little more understanding with us and they are VERY kind. They even help us out.

With everything in my life, their disbilities are a mixed blessing. They have taught me lessons I never knew I needed (or wanted) to learn. At the same time, I am almost jealous of the woman with the child who could not move (those of you who know me personally know why!) because of what I go through with Bugaboo. Then I feel like an ungrateful wretch because I have this perfectly healthy, happy child who may have neurological differences but is a a joy to most people. I never get tired of hearing from perfect strangers (and friends and family) how gorgeous my little boy is. I never tire of people asking me about Bug Boy's little genetic hair display (think: Calico kitty!).

No parent of a child with issues has it easy. No parent has it easy. Parenting is a difficult job to begin with . Add in the stress of dealing with a child with special needs and you have recipe for disaster. No wonder the divorce rate is so high among people with children with special needs! The paperwork, therapies, denial of services, meetings, people coming and going, schedule, appointments, it never stops! It is a full-time job in itself, so I appreciate being able to stay home and dedicate myself to it. After twelve hours of Bugaboo I feel like I have been doing hard labor.

As for the word "disabled," I hate it because it is so negative and condescending. It focuses on what your child CANNOT do instead of what they CAN do. Do not misunderstand me, I am not one of the "So-PC-It-Mkes-Me-Want-To-Puke" types. I just wish folks would stop being so hung up on a bunch or words and concentrate on the whole child! Concentrate on the blessings! Concentrate on the love!

Speaking of the love, he has been helping me type all along. Nothing like having "help." I apologize for the lack of proofreading and proper spelling and grammar! I just wanted to post it as quickly as I could before he deleted it all!

Say WHAT???

2007-04-02T22:03:00.000-04:00

I read too much.

I read into it too much.

I love red.

I don't love red on me.

I feel more alive then I have in months!

I have a sore throat and feel like crap.

My best buddy has been sick for a week and I miss talking to her.

She needs to stop buying raw milk.

Darling took a sick day today.

He wasn't really sick. He just wanted to sleep in and do odd jobs.

Bug Boy may be higher functioning but I am having more difficulty with him than Bugaboo.

It is only Day One of his One week vacation.

Bugaboo has been stripping constantly but we've been attempting potty training today with interesting results.

He either pees and strips or waits until he is finished his required time on the potty and pees in the undies as soon as they are back on. Grrrr.

Ice cream made my throat feel better.

I want more.

We spent most of the time today outdoors!

I am sneezing and coughing from being outside so much.

I finally put away too-small clothes from the boys and found ANOTHER bag of shirts I bought for Bugaboo.

I need to stop buying clothes for Bugaboo. His brother is growing so fast that the clothes are hardly worn. Except jeans. He has a little thing going to see how many knees he can rip out of his jeans.

My single mom friend visited today after I watched her son while she went to his IEP.

I pray I am never single, I am sooo lucky to have Darling. But some days he drives me nutso.

I love my home. I love my neighbors. I love my family.

I wish I could just snap my fingers and the walls would paint themselves.

I hate shaving.

I wore capri pants today.

Today I could not bring myself to get a shower.

When I have a headache or feel sick I cannot stand the feeling of getting wet.

I love green.

I don't love green tea.

We are going on a date this weekend.

We are going to a matinee because I know I cannot stay up past eight.

I currently sound like I've been smoking two packs a day for years.

I have never touched cigarettes in my life. But I AM an alto.

I am addicted to cheese and potatoes.

No one is surprised to hear me proclaim this, are they?

Fish Friday

2007-03-30T09:08:00.000-04:00

Growing up we had fish Friday. Every single Friday, I kid you not. My parents were kinda old school Catholics (still are!) and even though they were involved in the Charismatic Movement in the church (which at the time was considered very modern thinking!) they still held onto many of the parts of Catholicism from pre-Vatican II. Since my father was a convert (his parents were sort-of practicing Episcopalians and my Nana was raised Mennonite) he took things very seriously. That included Friday meal selections.

Every Friday, all year long, my parents abstain from meat. Even during non-Lenten times they insist that no meat will touch their lips on a Friday. They would shriek in horror if they found out we had something from the cafeteria at lunch that might possibly be described as meat (although, school food then was Grade D but edible and the meat looked like plastic). To this day they have fish on Fridays.

A typical fish Friday meal consisted of tuna casserole, Mrs. Paul's crunchy fish sticks or (every once in a while) frozen flounder fillets. Not the most appetizing stuff, y'all. If we were outhouse lucky, and my mom had no fish, then we ate grilled cheese and tomato soup or pizza. I remember occasionally eating pancakes or eggs on Fish Friday but that was very rare. We almost began to expect tuna casserole every week.

Once we grew up and moved out of the house my parents began splurging on fish. They would either go out to one of their favorite diner/eateries and have THE SAME THING EVERY WEEK or would buy some fresh or frozen fish at the market. For people who have LITERALLY eaten the same thing on the same day every week of their lives together this is a big deal. I mean, once in a while they would get all crazy with their bad selves and have a frozen breaded veal patty on a Sunday instead of the required roast and potatoes (and canned peas) but we are talking VERY seldom, folks. I am telling you now! If my mother eats out for breakfast, it is always, ALWAYS, a cheese omelet, side of bacon and a glass of milk. If my mother eats out at lunch it is grilled cheese with a tomato on it. If my parents go out to dinner (which they now do most Fridays, or did for years) they order fried, breaded flounder with stewed tomatoes and mac and cheese. If they are feeling really wild and rebellious they order crab cakes. On non-Fridays (rare) Mom orders surf-n-turf (a very lame steak and a crab cake) and dad orders pork chops or steak. Such epicureans.

I kid you not. This is the truth. We grew up on one-pot meals with potatoes every night. There was always bread on the table (bread is filling!) and we ate the same thing every week. Feeding a family of nine (plus the random foster babies we would have) is expensive and I know my mother did the best she could on one salary. She did not return to work until half of us were teens or beyond. The problem is that she still cooks this way. The only one living at home is my leech brother. Thirty years old and still living at home, mom does his laundry. Do NOT get me started on that topic!

I do observe Fridays in Lent. I fast and do not eat meat. Tonight I will no doubt be super-lame and eat pizza or make mac and cheese, just because it is frozen and I can make it in five minutes. I just cannot bring myself to eat fish on Fridays. Traumatic childhood events dictate that. Even with homemade tartar sauce and ketchup Mrs. Paul's fish sticks taste like sand and cardboard.

Maybe I will make some tuna casserole. Or not, since no one else eats it. But, just for fun, here is our family recipe, with some Mj special touches thrown in:

Tuna Casserole

One can of tuna, drained (we prefer White Albacore in Water!)
One can of cream of celery soup
one cup of milk
One 8 oz package of cooked egg noodles, we use no-yolks.

Break tuna up with a fork, mix with can of soup and milk. Stir well. Add hot noodles. Bake in 350 degree over for twenty to thirty minutes, or until bubbly and begins to turn brown.
For fun: Add shredded cheese in the mix before adding noodles. Sprinkle Parmesan and bread crumbs on top to make a nice crusty and crunchy casserole top. We have also sauteed onions and celery (chopped small) in butter or olive oil and added that to the mix as well. We've also steamed veggies or nuked frozen ones (peas and broccoli work OK, skip anything too watery or soggy. ) and thrown those in to make a one-dish meal.

Enjoy!

Goof-off

2007-03-29T08:38:00.000-04:00

Wanna know what I feel like doing today? DO YOU? Huh? DO you?

Nothing. Absosmurfly nothing.

I've been burning the candle at both ends the past few weeks and Bugaboo is about to have a two week break. There is a decent amount of housework done and the routines are caught up. I am just not going to go out of my way to do anything special today.

This afternoon I will take a nap. I have been having some difficulty falling asleep the past few nights (thanks to Darling) and I have been awake, staring at the ceiling, until midnight. Of course, this gives me plenty of time for irrational thoughts. You know the variety? "If I lock this door and then put this in front of it and nail the window shut and do XYZ then Bugaboo won't escape and I might get to actually sit down for a few minutes..." or "If I move X appointment to Thursday and so-and-so comes with me on Wednesday and I pack PBJs for all five kids I can handle taking them to the Franklin Institute on that day..."

Yeah. I'm crazy like that.

Of course, it also gives me time for contemplating things I never knew were important in my life. Things you hear on Jeopardy. Like, "What is the largest country in Africa (The Sudan)?" or "What was the best-selling box office film in 2006(Pirates of the Caribbean)?" or "What movies has Kevin Bacon NOT been in (Not many to speak of)?"

Checkbook? It can balance itself. Paperwork for Neurology? They sent me the new patient stuff by mistake, I AIN'T filling two packets out AGAIN before we see the new Neuro in May, we filled it out SIX MONTHS AGO. Dinner? Planning on a super-easy one. Shower? I will get one eventually.

The past few weeks I have been trying to do things for me. Me, myself and I. I have been learning quite a bit about myself and it is nice. For example, I have discovered that I like painting my toenails blue and people can just shove it if they don't like it. I have learned that I will not snack in between meals when I am busy, I am not really hungry when I pick at the fridge in the afternoon. I now know that I do not like to watch television and have not turned it on in weeks, even my beloved Discovery Health documentaries. I have learned I can shut the basement door and pretend the basement does not exist and therefore it does not need to be cleaned because, afterall, it isn't really there. You know, out of sight, out of mind?

Most of all, I have learned that by taking a little time for myself I am a much happier wife and mother. Just getting a shower and putting on some decent clothes is enough to lift my spirits. Getting a few basics done in the morning is all I need to feel a sense of accomplishment. Planning to make a few meals a week blesses my family and helps them to realize that I do care about them. It all seems so simple yet it was the most difficult things I have ever done in my life. Taking care of me is HARD!!!

More taking care of me is going to take place in the future. It started out as a Lenten goal. It seems silly that I would do something seemingly selfish instead of sacrificing something I crave. But giving up chocolate or potatoes is meaningless. I know I can eat them again someday so that is not a sacrifice. Believe it or not, putting myself first is one of the most difficult things I have ever done. At first I felt as if I was neglecting housewife duties or letting down my family. After a few days I realized that in order for my family to be happy I must be taken care of. How can I bless my family if I am not my whole, true self? How can I possibly teach them to be loving and caring and to take care of themselves when I do not do that for myself? I remember YEARS where my mother did not get her hair cut or cut her own hair or wore the same dreadful clothes because she felt that she could not take anything from us. While I admire her stance I realized that part of the reason my mother is the way she is today is because she NEVER does anything for herself. I mean, she buys new clothes now and used to go to the hairdresser (until her hair fell out and she started wearing wigs, but that is a story for another day) but she still works a full-time job for SOMEONE ELSE and takes care of my grandmother in her spare time. She does nothing for her. It is all about other people. And while I admire that she is so selfless (and so self-centered at the same time, she does this stuff to feel good about herself) she truly does not love herself. This I know as fact. So what kind of example does she set? That it is alright to ignore your own needs and put others ahead of you just so you can burn out quickly and become a slave to others? That it is acceptable to never, ever take time to be with yourself and never know who you really are because you are always answering someone else's call?

Next up? A spa day (hopefully) or an overnight with my sisters. We tried to plan one in March that fell through because two of us had multiple activities going on that day. My older sister has been bugging me to do it again, as has my older older sister. I realize that we need to do this! Stay in our jammies, sleep in, go for very long walks, watch chick flicks and do crafty stuff, sounds good to me!

There is something to be said about goofing off!

Snuggling

2007-03-28T09:12:00.000-04:00

Warning: TMI!

So, let's just say that the month of March is nearly over and I relented and decided that I would indeed snuggle with Darling last night. You know, "snuggle?" Wink, wink, nudge, nudge. I figured, it is the end of the month, I am not ovulating, I am not in my fertile-myrtle mucus period so why not? And it was nice to relieve some stress. 'Nuff said.

Just us, kids asleep. Dog in the other room (because if we don't lock her out she stands by the bed whining and staring at us). Without getting graphic, I just want to comment that I feel like a teenager when we "snuggle" and it makes me feel alive. Amazing what S.E.X. can do for you, huh? I guess that is why people like it so much.

I don't worry about my sagging girls. I do not worry about my ample posterior. I do not worry about the crow's feet or pimples on my face, nor the fact that I haven't shaved in three days (well, Darling might worry). I do not worry about the ONE stretch mark on my belly and the FIVE MILLION Stretch marks on my girls. I do not worry about thigh dimples or varicose veins. It's just me and Darling. An out of body experience. A nice vacation.

We need to do this more often...

Rant Fest Over

2007-03-27T13:01:00.000-04:00

I've had enough of the posts where I biatch and complain about how horrible it is. I think I was in a funky mood then. I am better now. So, please read the former post at your own risk. It ain't pretty.

My sister has given me some food for thought. Do I love myself? How can I take care of others if I do not take care of me? I have been trying the past few weeks to do a better job, getting better sleep and staying organized and on top of things helps TREMENDOUSLY!!! That is why I do Flylady, for support and guidance. I feel that if I can stay organized I am not as frazzled, do not come down hard on myself and things seem much more peaceful. I made a major effort this morning to stay organized and I am doing well at this moment. I took some time to take care of ME (did my hair, painted my nails, beauty stuff) and now I feel much better. I still got housework done but there was no rush. THe house is in decent shape, routines are caught up and except for the fact that we need to do some painting it looks good in here. Except for the basement. I promise, I will not procrastinate forever.

Okey doke, time's up on teh 'puter. Time to get back to work.

The Magic Pill, Revisited

2007-03-27T08:58:00.000-04:00

Perhaps I was a little too quick with my conclusion.

Let's just say the past few days (weeks, months) were difficult. I know that NO ONE SAID IT WOULD BE EASY, but what do you do when your child is exhausted and yet cannot stop moving? Or knows that he is not supposed to touch things, but cannot control the impulse to touch it? Or knows that he is not supposed to run outside, but MUST RUN OUT IN THE STREET because he cannot control himself?

This poor child has not stopped moving in months. I mean, we always knew he had energy, more than the average three-to-four-year-old, but this is getting out of hand. He seriously does. not. stop. Ever. He CAN'T stop. I know it is upsetting to him. It is upsetting to us! We are frustrated because he is frustrated. We do not know how to help him.

On one hand I would like to blame it on the seizure medications. They are supposed to make him drowsy, sleepy, slow him down. He is supposed to be improving behavior-wise. He is supposed to be sleeping well at night! These medications are working for Bug Boy. He has only woken up a handful of times with night terrors or other reasons. His meltdowns have STOPPED COMPLETELY except for the occasional, normal, six-year-old temper tantrum. I feel as if it is the answer to our prayers with him. His attention is better, his mood is better, his energy level is better. He is happier! YEAH!

But Bugaboo is not doing well on them. He has been waking up nightly for the past three months, after three months of him getting back on track. In school, he is improving by leaps and bounds. He has a TSS that is working well with him. His teacher and the staff are AMAZING, I kid you not. He has the occasional moment at school when he just will not do something, but on the whole he is doing well. Once he steps off of the bus, however, it is an entirely different story. The seizure meds are wearing off, he has been through eight hours of demanding "work" and is tired. The paradox is that once he passes through the treshold of being exhausted he actually becomes more hyperactive. The more exhausted he seems to be the more destructive behaviors he exhibits. He comes home and stims, stims, stims. He does not seem to be having fun when he comes home. He seems lost, cannot slow himself down, seems empty. We look forward to getting him to bed instead of looking forward to spending time with him. I feel guilty about that.

Bugaboo takes all of my energy. I save it all day so that in the four hours (four until eight) that I spend with him I have enough energy to get through it. Some days I do not. He takes more energy than the average child, I would say three times as much as Bug Boy. I can deal with a typical child all day before I lose it. With Bugaboo I am lucky to make that four hours. As a parent it is frustrating. I am SUPPOSED to deal with this. But some days (like last night) I cannot. I called Darling and told him I was done, DONE for the evening. I told him I could not handle taking them to indoor soccer, even if it was an hour break for me. He dropped everything and ran home, wolfed down his dinner and took the boys to soccer. Once there, he and I walked the track the entire hour. It felt GREAT and gave me enough of a recharge to finish the evening.

The moral? I need to get back on a consistent gym schedule. I have not gained weight and I have been eating better (and, surprisingly, less) than I have in years. I feel well health-wise. I just need to relax more. Relax=exercise as much as humanly possible, in Marj-Math. So, back to daily walks and three to four trips a week to the Y. I finally renewed the membership after forgetting to stop by three weeks in a row!

Magic Pill? Last night I wanted one. I HAD IT. It was especially difficult for Darling who had never really seen an older child with severe autism. I was telling him about the different children last night and he kinda sobered up. He pointed out one little boy (about six) and said he thought that Bugaboo would be like him in a few years. He asked me if he would be. I just do not know, I wish I had those types of answers. I wish I knew what to expect. It just does not work that way. Darling and I talked about how it is going to become more difficult before it gets better and we just have to be prepared to deal with it. We have to work on our acceptance of this situation and realize that there is no "cure" to speak of ( I know, there are those out there that spend thousands if not millions to find "cures" but we just do not believe that is for our Bugaboo.). We do not know what tomorrow will bring and we are just going to have to deal with that. It does not make the situation any easier but it will bring us peace. Realizing that something is out of your control is scary until you realize who IS in control.

Magic Pill Today? I dunno. If there was a way to help Bugaboo slow down, to calm down this level of activity, we feel he would be happier. We just do not know what it means medically and will not know until the results of the EEG are in and we can speak with the Neuro. We may be able to alter his meds so that he receives more of one and less of another. Who knows if it will help. As a last resort, we may try a hyperactivity medication, although I am DEAD AGAINST it. Everyone else in Bugaboo's life wants to give it to him. HE IS FOUR!!!!! I know it may help him but, HE'S FOUR!!! We shall see. I do not know if we have hit rock-bottom yet. That might sway me.

Have a nice day. I am going to take a loooooong, hot bath.

Thank Goodness It's Monday!

2007-03-26T07:48:00.000-04:00

This weekend went by sooooo fast! I know it's cliche, but it is true. It was over in a blink of an eye and I am quite glad it is.

Friday we returned home from Bugaboo's EEG about five hours early. Bugaboo was uncooperative (to put it mildly) and therefore we were released after he pulled four leads (and hair and skin) off of his head. Fun times. When I walked in the door Darling had not vacuumed, there were dishes in the sink, clothes on the floor and a general mess everywhere. Before I left on Thursday I spent the ENTIRE morning cleaning every room in the house. Let's just say that with little sleep and the fun at the EEG I was NOT AMUSED. Top that off with the fact that Darling was working from home on Friday. This means he was sitting on the recliner, laptop on his lap, talking into the speaker phone, using the TV, two computers and tying up the phone line. Then he had the audacity to ask me to keep Bugaboo out of the room and to keep him quiet! Again, I was not AMUSED. (Read: I snapped, totally.)

Saturday morning I had to play for a funeral for a man at my church. He died an awful, painful death from cancer. But he was still there every week until he could not get there himself. Amazing. His family was so upbeat and uplifted, as he was everyday. The problem is that Soccer has been postponed for two weeks due to inclement weather, which meant that they changed the schedule around. Bug Boy's game was changed from 9am (long before the funeral) to 11:30am (in the middle of the funeral) and we had to scrambled for coverage for Bugaboo at the last minute. Therefore, when I was trying to leave and Darling was trying to take Bugaboo to my brother's house and I was running late and he was running late and Bugaboo escaped while I was pulling away and I had to stop the car and jump out and grab him, and Darling was chasing the dog and he dropped the stroller and broke it...I could go on, but I think you get the point. We ended up having a HUGE, heated "discussion" (where he accused me of nagging him) about how I am basically an indentured servant and he cannot even begin to image what it is like to do what I do and so I need just a teensy bit of respect. Thing is, playing the martyr is not my style and is totally ineffective at best. He said some nasty things, I said some nasty things, I cried, he yelled, the kids ran into another room (and I regret arguing anywhere near them!) and it was ugly. I finally got to church with fifteen minutes to spare before the funeral, we generally get there forty-five minutes to an hour before. Sigh. I never made it to Bug Boy's game after the funeral, Bug Boy had a playdate right after (and Bugaboo jumped into our wading pool, which had fallen over behind the garage, filled with stagnant water from the melting ice and snow.) and then we ran errands until nine pm. The kids were cranky and so were we.

Sunday morning we woke up, jumped in the shower, dressed kids and packed the car. Bug Boy and I headed to church while Darling and Bugaboo got some breakfast and then came to pick us up after mass. We headed to Ocean City for E's birthday, the first one he has ever celebrated with family due to the fact that they have lived on the other side of the country since he was born. Bug Boy always plays nicely with E's cousins on his father's side, they are VERY nice people, really are like family. They even invite us to Christmas and Thanksgiving, they are that nice. E's Mom Mom made awesome meatballs, the kids had fun playing outside, we all gushed over their new puppy (cute Corgi!) and Bugaboo basically crawled out of his skin. If he wasn't running away outside he was climbing all over furniture, sticking his hands in the cake, banging cabinets, turning on the sink water and soaking himself, taking rolls from the kitchen and tearing them up, getting into the trash, the list goes on. Once everyone left and we ended up staying until after dinner he was WORSE. It was almost as if he was so uncomfortable that he was trying to run away from his own brain. Difficult to envision, I know. But if you could picture him (if you've ever seen him) running and jumping and climbing and NEVER SITTING FOR SEVEN HOURS then perhaps that will give you an idea, but then times that by eleven. That is what yesterday was like. When we were there three hours and Darling and I decided to leave early, his sister and her husband begged us to stay, kept Bug Boy with them and we took E and Bugaboo for a ride to find a Wendy's (who knew it would take us eleven miles to find one!) to get the boys fries. It helped, but we had to pull over FOUR TIMES in thirty minutes to get him back into his car seat! He even OPENED THE DOOR at one point at a red light.

My sister-in-law and I discussed what is going on with Bugaboo. She even commented that the hyperactivity is getting worse and worse. She said that she feels badly because she knows it is really taking its toll on ALL of us, mostly Bugaboo. He just seems very unhappy. I think the reason he wants to be picked up so often is because he just cannot stop himself so he wants us to do it. He wants to play with other children and sit and play with toys AND sit and eat at the table. He just cannot do it. HE. CANNOT. SIT. We discussed the medication issues and I let her know that Darling and I have finally consented to it, after arguing for months. We just have to wait to see the Neuro and get the results of his EEG. We do not want to do anything that may worsen the seizure activity. I feel guilty about it but he escaped no less than ten times in four hours. He has gone missing a dozen times in two days. He has broken three doors or windows, has broken more toys than I can count and has bitten or kicked or shoved just about everyone he has had contact with. He cannot stop. And with the level of intervention we have right now, what else am I supposed to do? This is NOT our Bugaboo. Our Bugaboo used to be so happy and loving. This version of Bugaboo (the miserable, sick,seizure version ) is unhappy and wants nothing to do with us. He is sad. We want to change that, if we can.

We left for home, one child fell asleep (the wrong one) and we put them in their beds. Bugaboo did not bang around for long, he was asleep forty-five minutes later when we finished packing lunches and school bags and headed to bed ourselves. I cannot believe we were actually in bed by nine-thirty! We were that tired.

Here we are, Monday morning. BIG SIGH. I have food shopping to do today, a house to clean, and half-days for the elementary kids I watch so they will be with me all afternoon. I plan on taking them to the grocery, they are a big help there and it will keep them busy. Pray for my sanity this week, they will be here all afternoon all week. Their sister is here all morning all week. Then they are all here with my kids until six. Next week? They are ALL OFF. I may only have them for three days. I may take them to the zoo or aquarium. We shall see.

The rest of the week:
Monday Night: Indoor Soccer
Tuesday Night: Tutor
Wednesday Night: Church rehearsal, guitar group
Thursday Night: Parent meeting at Bugaboo's school, trying to get Darling to go! WISH ME LUCK THERE!!!

Ok, off to work I go...

The Magic Pill

2007-03-23T14:18:00.000-04:00

I have been asked many times and have also read about the magic pill. You know, that hypothetical-rhetorical-silly-shouldn't-be-dwelled-upon-question. If there was a magic pill, a cure, a tried-and-true way to make Bugaboo "normal." Would I do it?

And the answer is...

I do not know.

You see, if someone had come to me in the beginning when we first suspected that something was going on with the boys I would have said yes. I was just starting out in this world, you know, the autism planet? I had no idea what to expect, did not know which way was up, did not really know who my children were. I was afraid, felt alone, was depressed and had a million times more questions than answers. Heck, I had NO answers. All I could think about was question mark, question mark, questions mark. I cried constantly. I was frightened. I did not want my children to have a difficult time in life.

Bug Boy is doing great. No magic pill. He receives necessary therapy, eats a well-balanced diet and now has his seizures under control. He is happy and well-adjusted. He still has his moments in school (must be first, easily led by others, difficulties with transitions) but has improved 1000% this year. His teachers have made a huge difference. It will still be a long road but I believe that he will be a normal, functioning member of society. He is happy and loved. That is all that matters to us.

Bugaboo is doing great. He is still non-verbal. He still is not potty-trained. He still is extremely hyperactive, has reflux, has bowel issues and chronic infections. He is happy and loved. He loves school and his therapists and teachers. He loves school buses. No magic pill.

But would I give him one now?

I do not know. I hope I am never faced with the decision.

If he is good enough for me now, he is good enough for me later. I love him whether or not he speaks. I love him even when he is running all over the house earning his "Doctor Destructo" nickname.

But if there was a guaranteed way to take away all of the difficult things about Autism, the self-biting, the potty issues, the nonverbal stuff, the funny noises, the crying, the sleep issues, would I do it?

No.

I would not. I believe that giving him a magic pill would be sending the wrong message. It would be telling him that there is something WRONG with him. It would tell him that he is not got enough the way he is and therefore MUST be changed. It would tell him that we do not love him the way he is, unconditionally. That we won't love him until he is different. What kind of message is that to send to your child? Hey kid! Your eyes are green. If you change them I will love you more! Honey, if you get that mole removed then I will love you and take care of you better! Grow to six-feet-tall and we are sooooo there!

Not in your lifetime.

Even with all of the challenges, I have to honestly tell you he is here to stay. And so are we.

The New Me

2007-03-22T07:54:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I spent time on me. I took a leisurely shower, had breakfast/coffee/nitrates and preservatives with my gal Betsy and went window shopping. I also ended up at my favorite Children's Consignment store (Kid to Kid) and found nice polo shirts and collared shirts for the boys. I hit pay dirt, they had TWO school bus toys! w00t!

Then I hit the salon. I walked in there thinking I would tell my stylist of ten years that I wanted to keep the length (now below the shoulders) but to put long layers in and a side-swept bang, since the layers had grown out considerably since OCTOBER (my birthday). I sat and waited, flipped through some magazines, was called to be shampooed and then sat in the chair drinking a glass of water until Dottie was ready.

Dottie is in her late fifties but is a spunky and funky lady. She has bleached blond hair and it is always wild or spiky. She is thin and petite and has a gorgeous daughter and handsome son. She and her husband have owned several salons (two I used to get my hair cut at in high school and I never knew it!) and a few trendy places in Philadelphia. The owned a notorious night club in Philly a few years ago called "Live Bait" that made the papers all the time for the antics that transpired in that aged building. Let's just say the athletes and gold diggers used to hang out there in the VIP area quite often.

Dottie smiled and greeted me, she asked about the boys, I asked about her new grandson. Then she said the most important words in hair styling, "So, what are we doing today?" My brain froze. I wanted to tell her, same ole, same ole. I just couldn't do it. I HATED my current hair, it was heavy and grown out, boring and blah. I wanted something young. I wanted something kinda hip and funky, without getting my hair cut shorter than a boy. I did not want the SAME BOB I have had for fifteen or twenty years every time I decided to trim my hair. I wanted something new.

So I told her, "I am ready for a change! I want something low maintenance but looks good when I style it. I'd like it short enough to make me feel lighter but not a mom-do. A little fun and funky, able to be pulled back at the gym." She nodded, smiled and got to work.

We chatted as she cut, trimmed, hacked, razored and combed. In fifteen minutes (I kid you now, she is amazing!) I watched as long pieces of my hair (six inches or so!) fell to floor and my head gradually felt lighter. She'd check each side, trim some more, comb it, trim some more. Finally she was satisfied. She began to blow it dry very carefully and adjust as she went. She stopped mid-dry and razored a little more. She finished drying and found one or two pieces to trim. She straightened it with an iron and razored one last piece. Finally she turned me around to see the new me!

I LOVED IT!!!!

OMIGOSH! I love my hair. I love it, I love it, LOVE IT! Did I tell you? I. LOVE. MY. HAIR. Ok, I've had great haircuts before but this one really lifted me up. It made me feel attractive and sexy and non-mom-do (even though it is technically quite the mom do) and fun all at the same time. You too can achieve this level of hair psychotherapy at the salon-formerly-known-as-Hair-and-Tonic in Havertown for a mere $35. Since I only get my hair cut about three times a year, it is worth the splurge. After ten years of going to the same woman I am NEVER disappointed. She knows my hair, she knows my face and she knows my personality. I love that she gives me what I want even when I cannot explain it. I hope she NEVER retires! ACK! The very thought of it!

Compliments of my six-year-old in-house photographer, here are the shots (not terribly clear, but you get the picture!):

and...

And it still looks good today. That is how you KNOW it is a good haircut! It is achievable once you leave the salon!

Sidenote: When I saw my sister this weekend (DinoBoyMom and My eldest sister) she said she was growing hers out a wee bit. I joked around and said, "You know, just like mom and her four sisters ended up with the SAME EXACT HAIRCUT even when they did not plan it, The four of us will inevitably end up with the same haircut. Soon. " And I was right. It was totally not planned, but guess what Debbie's hair looks like? Yup. Pretty much the same!

I Do Not Know What to Say

2007-03-21T07:48:00.000-04:00

I had this glorious, well-thought-out post written in my mind, I could not wait to sit down and post it. I hurried through my morning routines, roused the sleepy Bug Boys from their cozy beds and gave them breakfast and meds. And then all heck broke loose.

Bugaboo had a global nuclear meltdown. I could not get to the bottom of it. He did not want the brown shoes, he did not want the black shoes. He did not want the wet diaper on but he would not sit still for the dry one. He did not want his coat on and yet stomped his feet and screamed to get it on. I am sitting here in front of this computer completely shell-shocked. It came out of NOWHERE. Usually I have some sort of warning or at least expect them to get upset about a variety of things. There was nothing out of the ordinary this morning, at least as far as I could see. He even cried and refused to get on the bus! He NEVER cries getting on the bus! He did NOT WANT TO GO. I made him. I needed him to go, I was about to totally lose it.

The teacher will call me if he does not calm down by circle time, an hour into the day. The get to school, put their things away, do free play (not his favorite part, as it is unstructured), potty time, and go over their schedules. Then they do circle time. If he is still crying I asked her to call me to get him.

Of course, today is the day that I finally decided to take care of ME. I have plans to have breakfast with my dear friend who is a great listener and still likes me even though I have kids with issues (my friends with children with disabilities can understand this one. It is the same thing that happens when you have kids and your friends don't. They stop calling and don't answer your calls anymore). My friend wants to talk about NORMAL LIFE and asks me questions about Autism and does not make me feel uncomfortable. Of course, she is a doctor of Psychology so perhaps that is why she is so good at it! Anyway, we plan to meet this morning.

After breakfast I was going to rescue my house, ala Flylady. I need to pick up each room, get some laundry folded, reboot the laundry and run the vacuum. I have not vacuumed since this weekend! It is AWFUL! There is still rice on the floor from last week when Ian had a throwing contest in the kitchen and I know some of it ended up in the heat vents. There are also blobs of dog hair everywhere, as Shad Roe the Dog is losing her winter coat, the inevitable Springtime ritual. My floor is covered with muddy dog prints and kid shoe prints due to the fact that NO ONE can stay out of the mud. Sigh.

When the housework is finished I am going to get my haircut! For the first time in FIVE MONTHS! Yes, I promised I would do it more often but time got away from me. I am embarrassed that the last time I had my hair cut was on my birthday. In October.

I plan on shaving and showering, too. Not that you needed to know that, but I plan on it. I might even paint my toenails.

So you see, Bugaboo's tantrums need to stop NOW. I am praying that the bus provides the sensory input and calming that he needs to focus and get ready for school.He is on that bus for an hour. I need this time to myself!!!

Very Important Things to Think About

2007-03-20T15:08:00.000-04:00

I had some errands to run after Little Miss got on the bus today. I headed out (after discussing summer camp with Darling on the phone. Again. The third time) and went to the County Seat of Delco to look for school bus toys at this great 5 and dime. Although the prices ceased to be 5 and 10 cents a long time ago. I digress...

Across the street is my favorite pizza shop. They have great white sauce pizza and fab toppings. Of course, I did not GET white sauce today, I was short on cash. I opted for plain. And while I sat there pondering the meaning of life I turned into a philosopher. There are some things that I must discover the meaning to:

Is it Ice Tea or ICED tea? Which is it? That makes me crazy, because I always assumed it was ICED tea, since other kinds of tea are HOT tea. Hmmm...It's iced coffee, not ice coffee, right?
How high is too high for pants to become floods? I always went with the notion that if your pants did not touch the top of your shoes they were MUCH too short. You should NOT be able to see your ankle. These are DRESS TROUSERS, kind sir. You have an awesome, trendy hair cut, designer glasses, a manicure and wingtips. Why are your pants so freakin high? Thank you.
When you are THAT voluptuous and beautiful, why, for the love of all things holy, would you choose to wear tapered jeans? Tapered jeans are not made for ANYONE with hips. They are made for people with straight down figures. You know, sticks. Skinny Minis. People with no body fat. I saw the most beautiful woman with a gorgeous, curvy figure and a great body. She was wearing TAPERED ANKLE pants. They do not look good on anyone. Haven't you watched What Not to Wear? Think of poor Stacy and Clinton. Please get some straight leg jeans. That is all.
When you pull into a parking spot and feed the meter, is there a chance in heck that you could park kinda in the middle of the spot instead of all the way at the back part of the spot, almost over top of the white line that marks the boundary of your spot? That way, when I pull my MINIVAN out of the same sized spot that your COMPACT car is in, I have enough room and do not have to back up four times in order to cut the wheel correctly. You were in the last spot on the corner and had plenty of room, plastic-fake-blonde-botox-addict.
Do people outside of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania have to come to this state, drive ten miles under the speed limit, stop to let a stick roll across the street and drive with their turn signal on the entire time? I wonder if they drive like that in Maryland?
Why does the city road crew have to pile all of the snow in the two last spots that are free. They cannot possibly put the snow in the METERED spots, now can they?
Why do so many places have to sell chocolate milk shakes that are easily accessible. I drove by THREE places that I nearly turned into to purchase a shake. It is nearly swim suit season. Stop tempting me.
It is abso-smurfly gorgeous outside today. My backyard has ankle-to-knee deep water and mud. I need to get the kids outside but they will be covered in mud. Please dry up quickly, like, by tomorrow. Okay?

There. I feel better now that I have gotten that off of my chest.

Rite of Passage

2007-03-20T08:37:00.000-04:00

It is part of life. The thing that defines your years when you are five or six. It has finally happened in our house and I feel a little sad because of it. After months of waiting the inevitable occurred.

Bug Boy lost his first tooth.

Since November (when the dentist told us that it would be falling out before Christmas) we have had a loose tooth. He allowed us to look at it, wiggle it, brush it to no avail. The thing would not budge. Meanwhile, every child in his class (and I mean, EVERY CHILD) and the girls that I watch after school lost teeth. Little Miss has lost FIVE since September, the sixth one is loose now. Bug Boy sat and waited patiently. He had us pack him apples and carrot sticks because, you know, they make loose teeth come out. He wanted hard, crunchy food because, you know, they make loose teeth come out. And Coliseum. He wanted lots and lots of coliseum because coliseum is good for your bones and it helps new teeth grow, which will help the old one fall out. Because, you know, ice cream has coliseum!

Last night, after indoor soccer, we did the "tooth check" that we do every night after dinner. Darling remarked that the time had come to try and pull it out. Bug Boy was having NONE of that. He said, "Dad! Just give me an apple! Cut up! WITH PEANUT BUTTER! CRUNCHY!" Darling sighed and obliged. As I cleaned up dishes and packed lunches, Bug Boy chatted with us (or made speeches to us, as he is inclined to do) about his day, his life, his Legos, his Star Wars, etc. I turned to look at him and noticed something red on his shirt and pants. Then he said, "Ewww! There is something in my peanut butter that I can't chew!" and spit it out on the floor. It was....DUN DUN DUN!!!!! His tooth!!!

He had blood running down his chin but he was sooooo excited! He and Darling ran to the mirror and checked it out, then dug out the letter they wrote a month ago to the tooth fairy. I tried to head Darling off before he mentioned tooth fairy (since Bug Boy had never heard of it and I do not do fairies and bunnies and santas) but it was too late. We are now committed to a few years of quarters under the pillow. Or half dollars, since that is what we had on hand to put in the envelope under the bed. Here is what Bug Boy wrote:

THIS IS PAGE 1
Dear Tooth Fairy. My name is Bug Boy. I am SIX YEARS OLD.
THIS IS PAGE 2
I live at 123 Main Street in Little Town, PA. Thank you. LOVE BUG BOY.

I think Darling was more excited than Bug Boy. He really gets into all of this cutesie stuff, I am the meany that would rather skip the events and parties. Anywho, Darling had tears in his eyes, I kid you not. He has stated on many occasions that he is happy and having fun. Of course, he never brings that up (for some strange reason) when Bugaboo is turning the sink on all over the kitchen floor, takes off his diaper and urinates all over his room or runs outside at 5am and is up to his knees in mud. Hmmmm...This is the same man that while I was IN LABOR ON THE WAY TO THE BIRTH CENTER, for the SECOND TIME, he was mentioning that when we have the NEXT ONE, we should do X, Y, Z and I wanted to take his bottom lip and pull it up over his head and then kick him repeatedly in the arse.

Ok then.

So the tooth is out, safely tucked away in my room. I am keeping it for a little while, since it has a ton of his DNA in there (plenty of tooth pulp, I read that it is useful in a safe kit with your kids' prints and such). I do not think I will keep EVERY TOOTH as my mother did. She still has each and every envelope, with teeth and fairy request, in her jewelry box in her room. I found them a few years ago when helping her clean and had a good laugh at some of the things my siblings and I wrote. I was Ms. Moneybags (please leave me $1 this time since I am ten. Thank you.) and my brother was very concise (Thanks, love Jay). I know she kept them because she could not stand to part with them or their messages. And with seven children, that is quite a large amount of baby teeth!

Yes, I feel sad in a way. The gap-toothed smile is on its way. I KNEW I should have made that appointment for our family portrait sooner! ACK!

My Greatest Heartache and My Proudest Moments

2007-03-19T08:13:00.000-04:00

How is it possible that the one thing in my life that brings me the greatest heartache could make me so proud and happy at the same time?

Yet, it is true. The one thing, the part of my life that brings me the greatest joy, the thing that I think about in all of my waking moments is also what makes me heartache with true pain and causes me to worry quite needlessly.

I think you know what I am talking about. My children.

They make me happier than anything every could. No object, amount of money or, dare I say, even food makes me as happy as holding and loving my children. They are literally sunshine on a cloudy day. Even a day like Friday. When they wake up in the morning and stretch their arms out to hug me I suddenly gain 1,000 points of energy. When I go into Bugaboo's room in the morning to kiss his cheek and get him out of bed he is instantly smiling and beaming at me from ear to ear with a smile that radiates warmer than the sun. Bug Boy's hugs are like no one else. He holds you like he will never let go.

Despite the joy they give me and my attempts to forget about the painful moments they are still there, looming over me at times. Almost as if the painful parts are whispering, "Don't forget about me! You aren't supposed to be this happy!" And yet I am. Once in a while the pain and sadness consumes me and I have a mini-pity party for myself. I give up on house work. I "forget" to cook dinner. I ignore friends' phone calls. I cry when Darling returns home and he holds me and looks surprised that I am feeling that way. He does not quite know what to do.

There is nothing to do. I think part of healing, part of learning to live with things that cause me pain, part of learning to accept things that I cannot change, is going through cycles of feelings. I have to experience the sadness, pain and sorrow so that I truly know what joy feels like. Without having the "bad times" to reference, how could I possibly enjoy the good times? I would not appreciate them half as much if I had not taken two steps back before I was able to move forward. In order for me to be content I feel that part of the package is to grow and understand and accept. I must learn patience (oh boy, do I!) and strength. I have to learn love.

I know there are many rough times ahead. I cannot even begin to imagine what it will be like for us but I know it will come. I will be as prepared for it as I can possible be. But I will not dwell on it. I will not let it consume my life and worry about it to the point that I cannot allow myself to be happy now. What a waste of time! Life is so short and I am not going to live it with my head down, afraid of the next thing to come around the corner. We have been through so much already. Although I thought (at the time) that I would never get through those difficult moments, I can now look back and appreciate them for making me who I am today. I am not the nervous Nelly I once was. I am not the naive girl who allows others to make decisions for her and tells her what to do in every circumstance for fear of making a mistake. Gone are the days where I sought out everyone's approval before I could come to terms with a situation. Now Darling and I face them head on (as he always has! He is my strength!) and just deal with it. That is all anyone can do. There is no changing this thing.

There are people in this world that want to cure Autism. That is their prerogative, I am not going to change their minds. I just wish they would stop all of these expensive, insurance-won't-pay-for-it types of treatments. There are so many "experts" out there to take advantage of parents who are desperate, sad, stressed, impatient and hopeless. I wish I could tell them all that there is hope! There is happiness! There is light at the end of this tunnel! Autism is NOT a death sentence. Now, it is not easy. No one ever said it would be. But you will learn to appreciate life so much more because of it. You can be content! You can find peace!

There are no guarantees in life. You get what you get and you have to deal with it and move on. There are certain things that are in your control and certain things that are not. It takes wisdom and patience to understand the difference. I can guarantee you will be much happier once you learn the difference. It just takes time.

What I Wanted to Be When I Grew Up

2007-03-17T10:00:00.000-04:00

Jo March.

No, really!

I have always had a love for classic novels. I read them all as a teen, Little Women, anything by the Bronte sisters, Jane Austin novels, and my all-time favorite book, The Secret Garden. I loved reading about rolling English countrysides, large stone manors and forbidden romances. I used to dream of being the heroine in Wuthering Heights or being Jane Eyre herself. I read Pride and Prejudice at least twenty times (it was required, but by then I had read it at least a dozen times) and have seen EVERY movie version.

There is something intriguing about the March sisters and their mother living on their own, being independent, sitting in their parlor discussing things that ladies did not discuss back then. I loved that Jo was so free-willed and had such a strong spirit. She was rambunctious, tom-boyish but still had that soft feminine side. She still fell in love. She still had someone break her heart. She was constantly getting herself in trouble just by opening her mouth (sounds familiar). She had a devotion to her family and a love for books. She cared about others and put them first. Despite her silly behavior she still managed to grow older, fall in love and be happy. Her charitable spirit appealed to me.

Sounds crazy, but I wanted to be like her. Fictional or no, she still had the very essence of the woman I hope to someday become. I was a spunky girl, always in trouble from what I said (or did not say). I was sent to spend long days with elderly relatives and help them clean their homes and listen to their stories. I cared for my family and I still attempt to put them first. I did manage to grow older, fall in love, become more mature and be happy, despite my silliness. Miracles do happen.

Fictional or no, I am not so different from Jo March.

Bunnies

2007-03-16T17:04:00.002-04:00

Just because my head is spinning and I've had six children running around here all day:

Click here.

30 second movies made with bunnies. Watch. Laugh. Be offended. Not safe for work.

Bunnies

2007-03-16T17:04:00.001-04:00

Just because my head is spinning and I've had six children running around here all day:

http://www.angryalien.com/

30 second movies made with bunnies. Watch. Laugh. Be offended. Not safe for work.

Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot?

2007-03-16T08:04:00.000-04:00

Van Halen. David Lee Roth leaves Van Halen. Roth's solo career. Eddie marries Valerie. Sammy Leaves Van Halen. Gary Sharone joins Van Halen. Eddie in Rehab. Eddie outta rehab. Eddie divorces Valerie. David comes back to Van Halen to record. Van Halen decides to go on tour. Eddie back in rehab, sans teeth. David refuses to go to Rock N Roll Hall of Fame. Sammy and Michael show up to collect and sing Sammy songs.

Blame everything on Global Warming.

Medical assistance. We have to reapply every two years for the boys. They have a diagnosis of autism (which is considered a permanent disability) and our regular insurance will not pay for most things considered developmental delay. Medical Assistance, which they are entitled to, wants you to reapply, you know, in case they are cured. They want all of our financial info even though we do not qualify based on finances. They send us paper work on the eleventh that is due on the fourteenth. 'Cause I can just drop the OTHER THREE PACKETS of paperwork that are due that same day and run to the mailbox and priority mail it whenever I want.

Year-round school schedules. Two week breaks. Only 180 days for these kids?

School District. They pay for private therapy for some people. They provide Extended School Year for some children, based on academics. Bug Boy will NEVER qualify based on academics but does on social skills. They do not provide anything for social skills and emotional support over the summer, they consider that the domain of wraparound. Wraparound only provides behavioral support. I can send him to the special camp for Autism but he is so high functioning that last year we decided he did not belong there. So I want to send him to a regular camp, out of pocket. But they will not provide behavioral support if he goes there. So he has to go alone. With no help. By himself. I hope he is ready. If not, I will take good data and shove it at the school district in time for next year's decision.

20 degrees. 50 degrees. 73 degrees! 64 degrees. Oh well, 50 degrees. Sigh. 37 degrees.

Bug Boy. All week he has been sneaking around, out of his room, staying up late. Last night we went to bed at eleven and found him in our bed watching television. He is SURPRISED when we tell him he cannot do that. He looks at us like we are talking crazy talk. He is STUNNED that he is supposed to stay in bed at eight. Then he is SHOCKED when we wake him and tell him he cannot stay home and let him play video games all day just because he is too tired .

The previous owners. No Norm Abrams there. Nope. No skills WHATSOEVER. More Bob Vila.

Potty training. He will sit for hours. Then he takes off his clothes and pees on the floor. He knows what he is doing. I have two potty seats, I am going to get two more today. My sister had a good idea. One in the living room, one in his bedroom, maybe one in the basement. Everything I read said that you have to get him going on the toilet right away and not fool with the potty seats, since he has issues generalizing. I don't know, my rug may thank me for it. So will my couch.

Tea Bags wrapped in little individual plastic bags. Talk about a waste of packaging.

Bugaboo signs and talks all day. Two weeks go by with NOTHING. Then he uses he PECS, smiles, hugs and plays for two days. Then he does NOTHING of the sort for a few more weeks. Whenever he has off from school he has trouble falling asleep that night and wakes in the middle of the night for hours. We have slept on the recliner all week from 2:30 until 6:30. Every night. At the same exact time.

Juicy Juice boxes used to have twelve in a pack. They now come eight to a pack. Unit price is actually higher now.

I moved eighteen months ago. I used to donate regularly to certain charities that would come to pick up from my house. They frequently came to my neighborhood and still call to tell me they are going to be on my old street. They WILL NOT pick up at my old house.

Bugaboo just came downstairs from his room, without a diaper, with poop all over him.

Nekkid Baby

2007-03-15T21:52:00.000-04:00

I have spent the entire day chasing Bugaboo down.

It seems he has developed a propensity for undressing. He has always enjoyed undressing himself but enjoyed being wrapped up from head-to-toe (footies, snowsuits, etc.) more. He now likes to get nekkid and stay that way. The child whom I used to envision cutting grass for a living (due to his absolute devotion to all things lawnmower) I now envision becoming a Chippendale or pron star (yes, intentionally not spelled correctly to chase off the Googles.).

Here is what our day looked like today:

Bugaboo wakes up. I dress Bugaboo.
I wake Bug Boy. Bugaboo is no longer clothed and pees on floor.
I clean up pee, make breakfast.
Bugaboo is again undressed, peeing on floor.
I dress Bugaboo, clean up pee, get Bug Boy ready for school. He gets on bus.
Bugaboo is (SURPRISE!) not dressed, starting to pee on floor.
Friends come over. We go outside. Bugaboo takes his shirt off. The other boys think it is great and want their shirts off. Bugaboo removes his shoes. The other boys want to remove their shoes. Bugaboo starts pulling off his pants. I stop him before we have gaggle of four-year-old boys doing the full monty in my backyard. We live on the corner, we could have given them all a good show.
Friends leave after a few hours. My back hurts, I try to rest on couch, Bugaboo leaves for a minute, running to window to watch the first school bus of the afternoon and returns to the room sans clothing. The diaper is being worked off. I catch him before he pees on the floor.
I get up to start picking up and preparing snacks for the big kids when they get home. Bugaboo is stripping and twirling in circles (and laughing). He starts to pull diaper down and pees down his clothes.
I take Bugaboo upstairs to get him new clothes and a diaper. We go downstairs. The doorbell rings. First kids off of bus. Bugaboo comes into the foyer, yup, no clothes. No pee this time, though. Thank goodness. The second round of kids gets here.
Therapist comes. We keep him engaged for an hour. Therapist leaves. I turn to get dinner started. Bugaboo disappears into his room, per usual. He comes downstairs and does the nekkid baby dance in the kitchen. I catch him as the girls giggle and scream, he runs off up to his room. When I get there his room is covered in puddles of pee. Yippee. I strip his bed and take the laundry downstairs to start washing all of the stuff covered with pee.
I return upstairs and...he is no longer clothed. After I dress him (can't find any puddles) an hour later I find a pee spot on the COUCH! ACK!
Darling comes home and wonders why dinner is not ready and I am crying. Hmmm...

Needless to say, I will be steaming the rug in several places tomorrow.

The good news? Each time Bugaboo has stripped I have put him IMMEDIATELY on the toilet. I explained to him that if he wanted to be without clothing he had to sit on the potty. He would smile and sit for as long as I wanted him to. He would get dressed, cooperate, disappear and it would start all over again. More good news? We only went through two diapers today because he took his diaper off EVERY TIME he had to go. I have known for some time that he could feel it just by the way he reacts each time he urinates or has a bowel movement. Even better news? This seals the deal on our decision not to replace the nasty, horrible, ugly carpet. We are going to save tons of money with his little peeing habit. No new carpets, less used diapers. A win-win all the way! WOOHOO!!!

Just trying to be positive...at this point I am so fried I am giddy with glee.

Numbers

2007-03-14T09:42:00.000-04:00

4 - hours of sleep I managed to get last night.

8- hours I need to function like a normal human being.

12 - hours I would love to get every night.

6 - Years since I have worked a "regular" job

7- years since I finally finished my degree

9-years it took me to finish

4-majors I had in college, the reason it took nine years

0- periods I have had in four months

2- months I have been off the pill

6- pregnancy tests that have been negative since then

2 - children my husband and I have

4 - children I would want to have

3- children I could picture having without going completely bonkers

7 - children in my family growing up

8 - pregnancies for my mother that ended in actual labor

1 - stillborn baby my mother had to suffer through

7 - miscarriages my mother had to endure

3 - vehicles we own

2 - vehicles we are keeping

1- vehicles we would need if Darling took the train to work, impossible given our current transit system

2 - televisions in our home

1 - computer in our home

2 - phones in our home

10 - years until Darling could potentially retire from his job

10 - years until I had better get my act together to go back to work full time

30 - years until official retirement age

5 - years before I want to return to a full-time job

1 - years before I will no doubt find something part time

1 in 155 - frequency of autism in the United States, according to the CDC

1 in 4 - autistic children who develop significant seizure disorders

600,000 - autistic adults living in the United States that have been identified, the amount is assumed to be more since years ago Autism was not easily diagnosed

525,600 - minutes

8675309 - Jenny, for a good time call

99 - luft balloons

27, 687 - miles on our three-year-old Toyota minivan

131,000 - miles on our eight-year-old Honda Accord

79,000 - miles on our 1984 jeep CJ-7

250 - guesstimate of Matchbox and Hotwheels in our basement

50 - guesstimate of NASCAR replica cars in our basement

40 - guesstimate of Thomas Trains we have in our basement

60 - average temperature in our basement, with heat off in winter

58 - average temperature in our SECOND FLOOR BEDROOM with heat off in winter

64 - temperature our thermostat is set on in winter

72 - temperature our thermostat is set on in summer

6 - average amount of appointments I take my children to each month

3 - average amount of appointments I take myself to each year

0 - appointments I wish I took my kids to each month

3 - doors exiting our home

3 - doors Bugaboo can get out of by himself

7 - interior doors we replaced (with new locks) last week to keep Bugaboo safe

3 - exit doors that need new locks to keep bugaboo safe

1 - hole in the wall that needs to be covered so Bugaboo doesn't jump out of it in the middle of the night

18 - months since I asked Darling to fix it

7 - days until it may or may not get done

8 - pounds I would like to lose to get back to pre-baby weight

0 - pounds I need to lose to be a healthy weight

40 - pounds I gained with Bug Boy's pregnancy

10 - pounds I lost in the beginning of Bugaboo's pregnancy, putting me below pre-baby weight

60 - pounds I gained back once the midwives told me to pig out as much as I wanted

50 - pounds I lost the day Bugaboo was born, 9 of which was baby. The rest was placenta and five pints of blood (giver or take one)

12 - hours until I can get more sleep

6 - children that will be in my home today

2 - therapists that will come to my home today

100 - percent likelihood that the children will play outside for the majority of the day

100 - percent likelihood that I will eat chocolate today

100 - percent of potatoes I like

Surprise!

2007-03-13T21:22:00.000-04:00

For those of you who have been to my house, you understand about the "window" between the boys' rooms. For those of you who haven't, allow me to explain.

The previous owners had three teen aged boys and a television in every room. The rooms are not huge, so in an attempt to save space in the rooms their boys came up with a clever (but horribly ugly and white-trashy) solution. The decided to cut a hole in the wall of what is now Bug Boy's room into the closet of what is now Bugaboo's room. That way, the boy who used to live in Bug Boy's room could be in bed watching television, they would put it on the top shelf of Bugaboo's closet facing into Bug Boy's room.

Is that confusing? Did I explain it ok? Hope so.

Ok, back to the story: The hole is still there. Bugaboo used to be in Bug Boy's room with the cutout in his wall. We did not like him in that room because his window is directly over a very long drop to the ground and we felt it was dangerous, not to mention his room was further from ours. So a few months ago we switched Bug Boy and Bugaboo, so Bug Boy is now in the room with the hole in the wall and Bugaboo is in the room with the hole in the closet. After a few weeks in that room Bugaboo began climbing onto his dresser, breaking the baby locks and pulling the drawers out like stairs. We bought straps to bolt his dresser to the wall but decided that it would be safer just to put the dresser in the closet. It is a standard baby dresser, longer than it is tall, cut out for the changing area that we never used, cheesy wood (don't ever by a crib-to-college set, you never want the set after toddlers are done with it unless you paid $$$ for a solid oak or well made set) and stuff that I want to get rid of. Anywho, guess what? Bugaboo began climbing on the dresser to get to his fish lamp, which we had placed on the closet shelf so that he would stop ripping the plug out of the wall. We had it on the shelf and ran the cord through the hole and into Bug Boy's room to plug in. Once he began climbing up there we contemplated removing the dresser altogether and eventually moved the fish lamp out of his room, since he wouldn't go to sleep with the light on. We left the dresser intact.

At some point we knew we'd get around to drywalling the hole in since it is unsightly and strange and has outlived its usefulness. We have yet to paint (or finish with joint compound, for that matter) and knew we'd get to it when the drywall phase was being worked on, which we hope to do this spring. It just has not been a priority, like floods in our backyard and failing appliances. You know, real life got in the way in the past eighteen months. It never occurred to us that the hole would need to be boarded up SOONER rather than LATER.

We are really good at procrastinating these days. After eight years of fixing up a one hundred-year-old house, we are tired of home improvement.

We knew Bugaboo would climb up into the hole and watch Bug Boy and laugh at him, and Bug Boy would throw things at Bugaboo to get him down. We kept saying, "We need to do this next week!" Tonight became next week!

You know what happened already, don't you???? So I can stop now, 'cause you already know.

Just kidding.

After putting the boys to bed this evening we settled on the couch and I almost immediately began dozing. My back is still hurting and I am exhausted. A few minutes after they were in bed we heard some loud noises, Bug Boy's door opening and many footsteps approaching us. Bug Boy burst into the Family room and blurted out, "Mom! Dad! We have a problem!"

Bugaboo was right behind him. Completely Nekkid. No footies. No diaper. Nothing.

He jumped up and down and looked absolutely pleased as punch. Quite proud of himself, really. We did our best to stifle the hysterics we were feeling and through the hands clapped over our mouths (and tears sliding down our face in fits of laughter) we told the kids we were going back upstairs. We were actually afraid of what we would find, but thank goodness he had already produced a bowel movement today. His room was, however, covered in little puddles. Yup, his bed, two spots on the floor, his dresser and half of the clothes hanging in his closet were covered with pee. Bug Boy even helped us strip and remake the bed, clean up the pee and move the dresser out of his closet. They are now back in bed and (we hope) asleep.

Bugaboo did undress himself last evening and I heard him crying in frustration so I went to check on him. It turns out that he had stripped himself (a regular thing around here, nekkid Bugaboo at all hours of the day) and was attempting to put a diaper on himself and cried because he couldn't quite get it right. Poor kid!

Word to the wise: If you are ever faced with the decision to purchase a home that may or may not have a hole cut into the wall (though artfully framed in with trim) and have active boys with advanced motor skills or a Harry-Houdini-monkey-of-a-son or a child with autism who likes to strip nekkid and pee and climb through windows, do not buy the house. Or at least have the foresight and initiative to board up the hole. Stop procrastinating already! DO IT!

I Slept in the Recliner Last Night

2007-03-13T08:15:00.000-04:00

No, I was not in the dog house. No arguments ensued in our home last evening.

I slept in the recliner because not only did it take me nearly ten minutes to figure out how to get into bed but it took about the same amount of time and Darling's help (and much crying) to figure out how to get OUT to go to the bathroom.

Yesterday, while bringing in groceries, I felt a twinge in my back. It did not really hurt but was one of those things that cause you to think, "Hmmmm. That's not good. I think I will take it easy for the rest of the day!" I iced it, rested it, stretched it and showered it with hot water. I took Motrin and got comfy on the couch. I skipped the rest of my errands for the day because it hurt to get into the car.

From there, it all went downhill. I felt progressively worse and by the time the kids got off of their buses I could barely move. Bugaboo was sound asleep off of the bus so the bus aide carried him in for me. I kicked the kids outside since it was a gorgeous day and I could not really deal with them being inside and not being able to do anything.

By the time the three extras went home and Darling was on his way I was completely immobile. My hip kept seizing up and muscle spasms would shoot up my back. Oddly enough, I have been leaning to the side and it looks rather strange. I just cannot stand up straight.

Once Darling got the kids fed, dressed and in bed I climbed into my bed but it took me a very long time to do it. We call our bed the "princess and the pea" bed, since it is VERY high off of the ground and I need a footstool to climb into it, I kid you not. You can imagine that I am leaning to one side, not able to straighten or bend and cannot straighten or bend my knees. So climbing into a bed that I need a footstool for was nearly impossible! I finally reclined ever-so-carefully and stayed in that very comfy position for about two hours. Of course, I had to PEE the second I got into the bed but was not about to move. When Darling came upstairs at eleven and asked me if he could get me anything (heating pad, ice, more drugs) I asked him to help me get up to use the bathroom. I cried and cried and cried. It hurt worse than labor pains, trust me (I had back labor, ALL back labor!). I breathed through it the best I could but at that point the muscle spasms and cramping in my hip were too much. I broke down and could not even get my pants up from sitting on the toilet. It was really pathetic. Darling stated he thought I put too much heat and not enough ice on it (probable). Thanks, dear!

Since I knew I was not getting back into that bed (and even if I did, there was no way out of it) I decided that I would try the recliner downstairs. This has to be the ONLY time in the four years that we have had this hideously awful furniture that I was happy to have it. I can sit and put my feet up without it hurting and it is actually quite comfy to sit in that position. Darling dragged Bugaboo's comforter downstairs for me (Bugaboo sleeps in footies, never keeps covers on and his room is a virtual sauna) since our Family Room tends on the side of being chilly. And there I sat/slept. Until I heard the dog come downstairs and beg to go outside. At 7:30!

ACK! Ian's bus was coming in TEN MINUTES! I hadn't dressed him, made his lunch, given him meds or anything! So I sprang up (well, rolled off and shuffled over) to the kitchen and threw a bagel in the toaster, made his med cocktail, got upstairs, chastised Darling for not waking me ("You looked like you needed to sleep later!") and dressed Bugaboo while he was still sound asleep on the bed. Darling carried him down, I put his coat on, woke him long enough to see the bagel and he started chowing down immediately. Since the bus came a few minutes late I had just enough time to throw on a jacket and slippers (still in pjs with no underwear and a bra!) before they pulled up. The bus aide was kind enough to meet me at the porch to get Bugaboo. Do not ask me what I am going to do when he gets home (uh, call my sister-in-law who was recently fired?)

I plan on seeing the chiropractor as soon as possible but typically they want me to heal for two to three days before I go in for an adjustment, since the muscle spasm could get worse before they get better. Today I DO have to get my eyes examined (doctor rescheduled from yesterday) and Bug Boy's teacher conference is at two o'clock. No, I cannot reschedule either. The eye exam was already rescheduled, I lost my glasses two weeks ago and I am a year overdue for an exam. It is now or never. And the conference schedule was set over two weeks ago. I cannot change it.

I will, unfortunately, be skipping the parent training this evening. Unless I have a miraculous recovery I do not think I can do it. It is only a few blocks away at the IU administration building (literally within walking distance! Five blocks!) but I cannot even drive at this point. I just do not see it happening.

The good news? Well, I am forced to slow down today and take it easy. I will not go anyplace unnecessary. I have plenty of time to sit and do nothing, since sitting is the only comfy position. The not-so-great-news? Bugaboo is off for the rest of the week. Yup, another stinking inservice day. I am beginning to loathe the year-round schedule he is on. These breaks are TOO long.

Okey doke. Since the shower and dressing portion of my day will no doubt take forever, I had better get moving.

Something I Have to Admit

2007-03-12T08:05:00.000-04:00

My sister was right.

She said I basically have to mind my own business when it comes to my nephew BJ. And she is right.

Getting myself all worked up about choices his parents make or do not make is really an unhealthy thing. BJ is their child, and whether I agree with what they do or not does not matter a hill of beans. He is their child and they have the right to raise him anyway they choose.

There are people out there who would argue this. When a child has a significant disability you really are under obligation to raise them the best way you can. Is my sister doing that? I think she is doing the best she is able. I believe she loves him unconditionally and does everything she can to raise him with love and gentle guidance. Although my mother believes that his main issues is a lack of discipline (may be true) I do not believe this to be the case. I just do not want my sister feeling like she is a bad mother. Because she is not a bad mother! She is one of the most eccentric, creative, fun-loving, movie-quoting people I know. Extremely bright and not arrogant at all. She lives in her own little world (as does her husband) and even though they are dirt-poor they are happy. What is wrong with that? If her son grows up to be "different" and has some behavioral issues, it is not a result of lack of parenting. He will grow up to be JUST LIKE HIS PARENTS.

There is great argument out there in the autism world about what level of intervention is necessary and warranted. Some go whole-hog and do everything from biomedical intervention to vitamin therapies to chelation to hyperbaric chambers, you name it. Others try behavioral therapies and intense language therapies. Others believe in Neurodiversity and treat their children like normal children, free from therapies and chelation. Does any one approach have it over the other? Or is it basically up to the family to decide what works for them? Yes, it is up to the individual family. No matter how much I disagree with what others do to/with their children, it is none of my concern. The best I can do is pray and move on. So that is what I plan to do.

Is it such a bad thing if BJ turns out just like his parents? They are very intelligent people. They are eccentric and are total book worms. They both suck at math and my sister cannot spell for anything. But she is happy. There is nothing wrong with that. His behavior will not go away but in the right school program, and being around other children his age (who will hopefully model behavior for him) he will improve. After all, my siblings and I had no real early intervention. The late talkers in my family went to speech therapy and OT but went right to regular kindergartens. And we all went to Catholic schools (with dyslexia, ADHD and developmental delays) and did fine. There were no diagnoses. I can guarantee you that my sister and I would have been diagnosed with ADHD, my younger sister possibly Asperger's (due to her early speech and her odd behaviors) and my brothers? Possibly PDD. Even my mother comments on how Bugaboo acts just like my red-headed brother. And Bug Boy is almost exactly like my youngest brother. Funny, huh?

We had no early intervention. No IQ tests (until later). No intense therapies. No TSS. We are all fine (well, some may argue this point). My parents did not even know those things existed. Only the most severe got those things at that time. Five of us are married. Four of us have children. Six of us no longer live with our parents. All seven of us have a significant other, are happy in what we do and have jobs to pay the bills. We can all go to movies and restaurants and order dinner. We have friends and do things socially (although we all prefer to stay home and watch movies and do our own version of MST3K, Joel Hodgsen version). I think we are all fine.

Now, do not get me wrong. I think BJ would benefit from therapy. In fact, I think he would EXCEL in life if he had some. But he will be fine without it, too. People may not give him the same considerations as they would with a diagnosis, but in a way those diagnoses can be dangerous. Ever hear of the self-fulfilling prophesy of education? Basically, a teacher will treat a child a certain way because of their label, diagnosis, disability. They will not do anymore or less. Kind of as if the child only has X potential because of Y disability, so they will only do Z. It is a very dangerous thing for a child. I hate that my kids have a diagnosis in a way but because of their interventions I feel they have done better WITH the label. Not everyone agrees. And that is ok with me.

I have too much on my plate to worry about what everyone else on the planet is doing. It is my nature to be concerned about others, offer advice (even when it isn't wanted) and to be especially close with my sisters. I think it is only natural that I love my niece and nephews as if they were my own and I would do anything for them. But, my family is capable of making decisions I do not agree with and I am still going to love them. And once I express my difference of opinion, that is as far as it will go. Agree to disagree. That is a step I never thought I could take. Yet, I am taking it! Funny! What is all of this maturity stuff going on?

Friday Wrap-up

2007-03-09T09:34:00.000-05:00

Soccer practice (today) and the first game of the spring season (tomorrow) are cancelled due to it BEING TOO FRICKIN COLD AND SNOW IS ON THE GROUND!!! It is supposed to warm up but the fields would be an awful mess.

Today is our appointment with the developmental pediatrician. I am looking forward to discussing the boys' progress and what we still need to work on.

Funerals suck. 'Nuff said.

I hate getting my hair wet and today I just don't want to even dry it.

I finally made an eye appointment for this coming Monday. I lost my glasses three weeks ago and I am finally going to get them replaced. I cannot see what I am typing and it is frustrating me because I make mistakes and have to sit about two feet away for the screen to be clear (farsighted) and then the screen is teeny and I have to squint. Don't even get me started on attempting to read MUSIC right now. Dots and lines run together faster than words.

My house is a balmy 64 right now. Darling refuses to raise the heat any higher due to our recent $385 utility bill (electric and heat) and refuses to believe that the spike was due to him working at home so much (plugging in his computer), the space heaters being on constantly (plugged in and electric) and the fact that he leaves the dang lights on all the time.

I went to sign up for the Y again (I forgot to renew it) which is crucial for my sanity. I waited why they tried to fix a computer glitch and then decided to go back another time, since they couldn't process my membership. I hope to do it today.

My dishes are clean and my laundry is caught up. I just need to put away the four loads (soon the be five) on my bedroom floor. I am sick of picking through baskets to find socks and underwear. The boys have wet themselves enough times this week to make me crazy.

I slept two nights in a row. I do not know what I am going to do with myself. Wanna know why? Because Bugaboo took naps two days in a row and I woke him up after 45 mins or so. He fell back to sleep easily because he was still tired (at 10). We may be going back to naps because he is just too tired to fall asleep (see the irony in that?) at night. Here's the crazy thing: When he doesn't sleep much (the past few weeks it has been 6 hours a night) he has better eye contact, better concentration, better behavior, less Doctor Destructo impersonations, more affect, more affection, better eating habits and more laughing and smiling. I do not get it. The extreme (and I mean, EXTREME) hyperactivity that this child suffers from really seems to impede him. And yes, I mean suffer from. You can see in his little eyes that he WANTS to stop running around and he CANNOT. He is so tired of running back and forth and jumping up and down and he becomes frustrated but he CANNOT stop moving. Not. For. A. Second. It is so sad to watch, I want him to be able to sit and play! And when he has less sleep he plays and plays. The past two mornings I have sent Bug Boy up to wake him in the morning(Bugaboo would sleep all morning, but I cannot allow it since his bus comes forty-five minutes after he wakes up!) and I went up to find them cuddled under Bugaboo's comforter, heads together, playing with a Thomas Laptop. Too cute. I nearly cried.

Last night Darling was working on the couch with his laptop and Bugaboo saw him and the attack began (Bugaboo is a computer-a-holic). He couldn't stop touching Darling's computer. He tried and tried to keep his own little fingers away so Darling gave up and put on a computer game to play for Bugaboo. Darling said, "Bugaboo! Do you want your own computer? Mommy and Daddy should get you a computer." Bugaboo jumped up and ran off. We did not realize what he was doing until he came down from his room a few minutes later and had his little kiddie Thomas the Tank Engine "laptop" and crawled back up next to Darling, pulled the blanket back on himself and happily pushed his OWN buttons and pretend mouse. It was so cute!!! They sat there and worked together for an hour. And Bugaboo did not try to touch Darling's computer ONCE. He did not move. For an hour. Did I mention that he sat still? For an hour?

My mother is on a crusade to send my nephew to a Catholic School. His parents (my very poor sister and her husband, the archaeologists) are dead against it. My sisters and I feel like it is a huge mistake (remember, this is the child who has autism, his parents admit it, and they don't want to take him to the doc because they don't have money for it and think he'll grow out of it). He needs to go to a public school to receive services, and our only hope for him is that the Kindergarten screening will send up huge flags. HUGE BIG RED ONES. Otherwise, he will be labeled as a behavior problem and he isn't! He is a sweet, happy, lovable and intelligent little boy who just needs to have the right learning environment. A Catholic school would crush him. Believe me, I am pro-parochial for the right child. Bug Boy may have done well there, but he would not have received services there. The nephew would be viewed as an undisciplined brat (because my mother is convinced that discipline is all he needs). My sister may have different parenting skills but she LIVES for her kids and is very creative and eccentric and artistic and wonderful. She may not discipline with a rod, but her kids are taught right from wrong. He just is not getting it because there is a communication problem.

I am hungry. I haven't eaten yet. I am stopping my rambling to get food. Have a nice day.

Did I Make a Mistake?

2007-03-08T08:01:00.000-05:00

Darling typically does not accompany us on appointments to duPont. Nope, I take all the time off to go to these things since my schedule (the stay-at-home-mom-who-does-daycare-schedule) is more flexible. Once in a while, if there is a procedure or copious quantities of blood work I ask someone to help me out. Mostly, I go it alone all day.

This Friday we have our second annual appointment with the developmental pediatrician. Bugaboo went a few months back because we were having terrible issues. The hyperactivity and feeding issues had reached an all-time high and we were desperate. We were referred to several specialists, received great feedback on the feeding issues, changed his school program and now things are much improved for him.

Since we already have a diagnosis for both boys (which helps us receive a long list of necessary services) this trip is merely a formality. Its purpose is really just to follow up and see which services are still necessary and which services we could live without. I asked Darling to accompany us this time because it is a two-to-three-hour appointment for EACH CHILD, so it is nearly impossible for me to be able to focus on the doctor and her staff with one child at a time. It is chaotic at best. Therefore, when I asked Darling if he wanted to go he agreed. I know he wants to hear what she has to say.

I explained to Darling that we needed to make sure we were on the same page on several issues. One was Bug Boy, his diagnosis and his difficulties in school. I reread his evaluation from the school and shared the information from Bug Boy's teachers that explain his control-freaky behavior, difficulty switching tasks, eloping from the room to see what is in the hall (nosey child!), his rigidness with schedules and rules and his lack of empathy with other students. Darling questioned whether or not he still needed speech and occupational therapy. When I read the scores of the tests to him (these tests do NOT lie, although others do!) he stated, "Oh. Ok." I still do not think he gets it, no matter how many things I e-mail to him, print out for him, read to him, etc. He does not think Bug Boy has any issues, just a "social and emotional delay." Uh, honey? A twenty-five percent delay in one or more areas constitutes a developmental delay. In our case, Pervasive Developmental Delay. They would have diagnosed him with Asperger's Syndrome, had it not been for the fact that he did not utter a syllable until the age of two-and-a-half. And then he never babbled, he spoke in clear, loooooong sentences. He sounded like a little professor. Never pointed, never waved bye-bye.

But, from what I understand from Darling's mother, he spoke for the first time at the same age, never played with anyone, and basically did not talk for the next ten years. When he first saw the criteria list he breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Wow. Maybe that is what is wrong with me! I meet all of this criteria!" No kidding! My sister and I have suspected it for years.

Anywho, I do not know if we are on the same page about this. I mean, he seems to agree, he does not think I am creating a mountain out of a molehill and he agrees that Bug Boy has the issues he has. I just wonder if we are going to get in there and he is going to refute everything I say. That is not his normal M.O, so I think if we agree on those points it will be fine. Afterall, I really just need this appointment as backup to keep services, since the speech teacher is hell-bent on making sure she tells me that everything Bug Boy does is "fine" and "good" but doesn't quantify anything. His classroom teachers tell me a totally different story!

As for Bugaboo, we agree on the main issues. Frustration about not being able to communicate. Sleep issues. Hyperactivity. Danger in the environment. These are your typical Autism-related issues. These are issues we have been dealing with for a while. Now, things HAVE improved with him. Since the diagnosis of his stomach issues and seizures we have had him growing by leaps and bounds. Once he began eating better he grew THREE INCHES in one year and gained almost six pounds! He does sleep better now than he ever has. He is even eloping less. The TSS at school and home have helped us improved things and his new school program works much better for him. But there is still this freight-train-tornadic-activity-whirling-dervish-thing that he does. You know, spinning, running as fast as he can, climbing, jumping, opening and closing things, and his newest behavior, pouring out coffee mugs and smashing them. Oh wait, there's more! He now also LOVES getting into the pantry closet or medicine closet (both locked, but someone inevitably leaves them open!) and finding a glass bottle (like beer from the fridge) and shaking it and opening it and FIZZZZZ!!! All over the place. This is a fun thing for mommy to clean up.

So, we are mostly on the same page with Bugaboo. Darling wants to try hyperactivity medication but I do not. We shall see what she recommends. I am not so keen on it, especially since he is already taking medications for seizures, night terrors and stomach problems. In one respect I wonder if I am giving him a fighting chance to calm down and find out what he is REALLY like? What if that is the thing that helps him the most? I still do not know how I feel about it. We know what she will tell us about Bugaboo. We already know he has autism.

Typically,when more than one child in a family has autism or developmental delays they look for a genetic component. Since several boys in our family have developmental issues and they also existed in my brothers and my husband, it is safe to say there is something genetic going on.
We've had common genetic tests (like Fragile X, which was negative) and so far nothing has popped up. The only thing we are concerned about this point is finding out about the metabolic issues they have, since the have physical side-effects from it. I am not so hung up on finding out the WHY part, just the WHAT-CAN-WE-DO-ABOUT-IT part.

So, I am a little apprehensive about bring Darling to the appointment but I am looking forward to him participating. I value his feedback and his opinions even if they are different from my own. I know that his only concern is the boys and what is best for them. I also know that he wants so much for them to succeed and reach their potentials. We just need to find out how best to help them reach it!

Schooling Soapbox Moment

2007-03-06T15:20:00.000-05:00

I heard something interesting the other day on one of my (many) online forums. The participants speak about random subjects but at that moment in time schools were discussed (like, some are good, some are bad, what's wrong with them, etc).

One gentleman said, "Public schools aren't designed to turn out extraordinary citizens. They are there to promote typical citizens. If you want something extraordinary, try private or home school."

Mr. Anonymous Internet Guy has some valid points.

/begin soapbox ranting

Public education was created because the ordinary citizen needed schooling and there was no way for them to get one unless they paid for it. Since the majority of the students living in the country at that time (before the industrialized version of our country appeared) were either sent to boarding schools, finishing schools, had private tutors or were taught at home, there was nothing in between for those who did not have those opportunities. If your parents were illiterate then you were illiterate. If you were (gasp) the wrong color or a foreigner, your chances were slim to none. Even after public schooling was created there was a huge disparity in schools. At this point in time one would like to think that public schools have improved to the point where everyone receives the basic standards of education. The truth is that many of our schools are going down the toilet while schools in wealthier areas are raising taxes higher and higher and once again, the best education is obtained by the wealthiest or upper-middle class in public schools (which, in my district, are considered better than private school).

Now, we have supposed laws that are designed specifically so that it does not happen. Our federal government tells the states to do X, Y and Z so that there is more integration, more money spread around, oh, and by the way, if you do not get your scores up (on ridiculous, skewed standardized tests) then you don't get grants to improve your schools with computers, science materials, math texts and library books.

Don't get me started on that part. My main purpose is to talk about whether or not we are turning out the typical citizen or the extraordinary citizen.

As a staunch supporter or public education, I have to admit that in our previous residence we considered sending Bug Boy to a private or parochial school. We knew that class size was a huge factor in determining where he would go to school and knew that the special services offered to us by that district at that time were not what we were looking for. We wanted him in a regular class with typical kids as much as possible. This is a good school district who turns out some extraordinary citizens, some typical citizens and (like every other district) some not-so-extraordinary citizens. We moved there because we knew the district was decent enough and my husband just happened to go there. We knew our children would be fine.

Fast forward a few years and we have Bugaboo. We knew he was different from the start. It is also about the time we first noticed a few things amiss with Bug Boy. We began having our concerns. A few months later both boys were receiving early intervention services and that is when the real discussions began. We want our boys to become extraordinary. We need help doing that and it will not happen in this district with their ideas of how our children should be educated. We began planning on moving before kindergarten began for Bug Boy.

We ended up moving before he finished preschool. All of the foundations were set. It was the start of something awesome for us and we were excited. Then he began Kindergarten.

The truth? The school has brought him from a frightened, shy, immature, emotionally and developmentally delayed child to a student that cannot be picked out of the class as being any different. This is all we really want for our children, to be like everyone else. But in a way that does not destroy their essence, their uniqueness. And (as a friend told me) we live in a place that everyone is considered, um, unique. So I am not worried that he will be alienated in any way. In fact, it is the NORM to be a total whacko around these parts. Since Darling and I have long been considered oddballs, we feel completely at home.

But, is this education extraordinary? Would he have made this much progress in the former district's program? Would a private school have worked for him? We will never know. What I do know is that once we moved and I started setting things up and requesting services I no longer encountered any issues. No one thought it was strange that my children had these needs. No one assumed that Bug Boy (because of a word on a piece of paper) should be in a self-contained class for autism support. They all felt like I did, that he needed to be around his typical peers to learn the skills that they have. Not to say he hasn't come home with some DOOZIES of behaviors (an unfortunate side of any schooling). Heck, even if I home schooled he would be around other children to socialize and he would pick up things that we do not necessarily care for.

To us the program is extraordinary. It is an award-winning district with an 85% college-after-high-school rate. The curriculum they offer is top-rate. The opportunities are endless. The same can be said for other districts but we felt this one was good enough for us.

Will he be an ordinary citizen? Maybe. That is fine with us. Why didn't I home school? Because, even though I am a trained teacher who desired to work with children with disabilities and still loves to be around children, I feel that others could meet their needs best. I can only read so many books and learn so much in order to learn how to teach my children. And, since Bugaboo has improved by leaps and bounds since he started in his program (still early intervention but soon we will meet to discuss his program!) we feel we made the best possible choice for him.

Did you know that when they were both born I decided right then and there that they would be home schooled?

Yup. It is true. My sister, the other teacher, thought I had completely lost it. I had my valid reasons. I did my research. I showed her books and websites and materials I had gathered. Then things changed. The boys were having so many issues. I did not know how to help them. I was a special ed teacher, for crying out loud, why couldn't I figure out how to reach them?

To me, it was divine intervention. We have many great people in our lives that we would never had met had I home schooled them. I still have this fantasy about Bugaboo being home with me and only attending half-day kindergarten (it could happen!). But the truth is, I know my limitations. I know that spending twenty-four hours a day with them (as horrible as it sounds) would burn me out very quickly. It is the same reason why I will not go back to teaching.

(Yes, I am aware there are special education home school groups and that it is possible to home school a child with autism. After doing tons of research we decided it was not for us. But thanks for asking)

/end soapbox ranting

What did we learn here today? It is possible to receive an extraordinary public education but I feel you still have to have $$. Homeschooling is a great option for many reasons but is not what we feel works for us (yet, I can tutor other people's kids for money. Ironic). Private school isn't always better. Mj is completely off her rocker due to sleep deprivation.

Stuff and Other Stuff

2007-03-05T08:40:00.000-05:00

We had quite an interesting weekend.

Friday Polite Boy slept over. He stayed all day Saturday and Bug Boy had a great time. Bug Boy spent much of the weekend melting down and Polite Boy handled it well. It didn't seem to bother him too much, which I was glad for. He just stated that his sisters acted like that sometimes (and I am sure he does, too!).

Saturday Darling's sister and her brother brought their son here as they were going to a party. Their son is nearly three and a real cutie, but has his own significant delays. In fact, he was not speaking a few months ago AT ALL. He is in early intervention and doing very well. He is now talking in partial sentences but his play is still very ritualistic and obsessive. All he wants to do it play with fans, electronics and light switches. When we tell him he cannot turn on the fan at that moment in time, he completely loses it. A very highly reactive child! Reminds me of Bug Boy at that age, I kid you not. Precocious, adorable and a total spaz.

Bugaboo was all over the place this weekend. He barely slept but was happy and pleasant. He was still rather hyperactive and broke several things (nothing new) by climbing on things we had no idea he would ever attempt to climb. I am now convinced that except for the locks on the doors to keep him from eloping we should do no further baby proofing. The problem with removing all of those things from the environment is that he never learns to deal with them and he never learns to accept that he cannot play with or touch certain things. In a way I am thrilled that he is interacting with his environment (loves washing his hands, pouring, taking a bath, etc). In another way I am getting sick of him taking freezing cold baths (fully clothed) and pouring out our drinks onto the floor (note to self, we now keep drinks up near the sink or counter, never in the Family Room). He did laugh himself silly all weekend and smiled more than I have ever seen him smile. He must be feeling well (FINALLY!). Except last night the reflux/croupy cough showed up again. Never a dull moment. He starts with a cough, ear and sinus infection. Then he gets an antibiotic when his ears explode. Then he gets reflux and bathroom issues from the antibiotic. The reflux causes stomach pain and eventually he aspirates on it, causing a cough and then an ear infection again. Then he goes back to the doc and gets another antibiotic. I really, really, REALLY want to find a way to break this cycle. I feel like we try everything: Special diets, probiotics, reflux meds, vitamins, chiro care, the list goes on. I am looking forward to spring, except that is when his allergies start. Sigh.

For some odd reason, when Bugaboo gets little sleep, he is very interactive. It is as if his brain slows down for a few moments, just enough time to let some information in. When he is tired we get the most speech approximations, the most signing and the most eye contact. He just giggles and laughs (a side effect of the seizures he may be having from lack of sleep) and wants to play. He jumps on the bed with us, drags us to tickle him, wants to be thrown in the air, plays ring-around-the-rosey, hums and sings (twinkle, twinkle or trashy town! I kid you not!) and tries to talk! Yesterday he said, "SIT!" when I asked him to sit in the cart at the grocery and then laughed himself silly because he thought it was hysterical when he pretended to sit and then popped right up again! He also asked his uncle Bob to pick him up. He put his hands up to Bob and said, "Baaaab! Baaaaaab!" Of course, Uncle Bob obliged! I hate to say it, except for the fact that I am like the walking dead without 8-9 hours of sleep, I like this version of Bugaboo much better (if I am allowed to pick, that is!).

Darling was grumpy all weekend and disappeared alot. I know he needed some alone time, but taking off and not telling me is not acceptable. Just when I thought we had it worked out he climbs back into his little antisocial shell and pulls those stunts. Not to mention that Bug Boy was CRYING because Darling wouldn't play monopoly yesterday. After I gave him a tongue lashing about how he can have time to himself when the kids go to bed he finally agreed that he was being childish because he was tired and played with Bug Boy all afternoon. I swear to you, men have menstrual-like cycles. I don't believe in many superstitious things, but there is certainly validity to the full moon phenomenon. My friend the Doctor of Psychology says that in her days at residential facilities (before she wizened up and went to private practice) the place was FULL during full moons. Curiouser and Curiouser...

Finally, I am convinced I am hitting menopause. The doc thinks it is approaching (just from the signs I've had) but still thinks I am too young. This not-getting-a-cycle thing is so bizarre. The hot flashes, profuse sweating, dips in hormones, all there. I am really hoping it is just my usual lack-of-normal-cycle thing, thirty-four is much to young to go through this!

By the way, I stumbled upon some great stuff from Neurodiversity. It is a group that goes about accepting children for their Neuro differences and not trying to cure or change them with outlandish therapies, diets, pills, dangerous treatments and the like. I am liking their philosophies more and more (like, my child is born this way, I am going to accept him and love him no matter what, I don't believe in the so-called cures, he is perfect the way he is!). The interesting thing is that THEY are accused of being the loonies in the Autism world because they aren't chelating, shoving pills down their kids' throats and don't do some therapies. THEY are the ones accused of child abuse and neglect. And the funny thing is this is the only group I have come across that feels the way I do, that it is most important to accept what is going on and live your life to the full, not be angry and sad and depressed and hate, hate, hate. Autism is just a term that describes a condition, it isn't the all-encompassing thing that describes or rules our lives. It is just a word. Yes, there is a family history. Yes, I know my limitations and I want to be a two-child family. But I do not feel that ANYONE has the right to tell me that I should not have more children because they might turn out like Bugaboo. I used to think that way and now I see the failure in that logic. Life has no guarantees. You get what you get and you have to move past it and just live your life. Dwelling in the difficulties in life, no matter what they are, is a moot point. Yes, it is difficult to think that way and takes time to learn to do. But once I moved past the woe-is-me stage I realized that life is beautiful and wonderful and that I am blessed with amazing gifts. It does not have to be a death sentence. Life is what you make it! So get out and live it! Be appreciative of what you have been given!

Moving right along...

I have not been to the Y in three weeks. Two of the weeks were due to sick children and then last week our membership ran out. I am going today to renew it and the rest of the week I am soooooo going. I pulled a calf muscle last night and was furious because I am typically in great shape. My clothes still fit fine but I feel so flabby (even though I know I am not, I think I am just a little stir-crazy!). I also need exercise to help me deal with the stresses in my life, it is my drug of choice to help combat the hormonal issues and mood swings. Nothing has ever worked better. And that fabulous weather we had on Saturday? Totally spoiled me. I am a winter girl but even this wool-sweater-wearing-ski-bunny wants it to be SPRING!!!

Friday Wrapup

2007-03-02T08:43:00.000-05:00

This will be a busy weekend. Polite boy is sleeping over tonight and Darling's sister is going to drive up from NJ and we are watching her son Saturday evening while they go to a fortieth birthday party. I like busy weekends because it is better for Bugaboo. He cannot stand the types of days where we are housebound and there isn't much to do. His little body just cannot take it.

Bug Boy is thrilled Polite Boy is sleeping over. They are buddies. Polite Boy is a great influence on him and is a great role model. When Bug Boy and Polite Boy are together, Bug Boy really works hard to hold it together and act like a "typical" child. He is doing so well at school! His teacher even told me that he is a good role model for other children, he follows the rules (imagine that, a child with ASD that sticks to the routine and rules!) to the letter and helps other children when he is finished his work (which is almost always, since he is reading two grade levels above the other kids in his class). He loves to be a leader (read: control freak). He wants so badly for the other kids to like him, sometimes he tries a little too hard. You know what? He has come such a long way the past few months. He now gets invited to ALL of the parties and has had many playdates. A huge difference from last year where kids played with him once and never called again!

Speaking of Bug Boy, soccer starts next week. All game are 9 or 10 am. WOOHOO!!! Saturday mornings, so that is awesome. And, he knows three kids on his team that go to school, one of which is in his Sunday School class. We switched soccer clubs for him this year. The one we used to belong to was right down the street but in the next town and with kids in our old school district. We liked the coach (he was amazing with Bug Boy and the kids) and the kids were all kids he went to preschool with. This year we decided he needed to start making friends with the kids from school so we put him on a team in our new school district. He is very excited and so are we! The only problem is that they do not have a special soccer program, so Bugaboo will still play with the old club, who takes kids from any town anyway.

Darling is home today. He isn't working from home, he actually took a DAY OFF!!!! So, he is currently doing taxes and at some point we are going out to lunch, while Bugaboo has therapy this afternoon. On Fridays Bugaboo has a half day and attends a therapeutic playgroup in the afternoons. We may discontinue it soon because I am considering private speech and OT on Friday afternoons, as well as a trip to the Chiropractor.

Speaking of Bugaboo, he is feeling MUCH better. A few days of motrin and he is back to the happy, smiling awesome kid that we know and love. He was in so much pain and was miserable the past two weeks. He woke up this morning and smiled the second he saw me. I love that! I love starting my day that way! He wakes up, smiles at me and then reaches his arms out to hug me and holds so tightly. There is no greater feeling to me...hugging my family is pure joy.

I've said it once and I will say it again: I have a great life. Things do get difficult and I always get the comments (how do you do it? I don't know how you do it!) but I wouldn't have it any other way. I would LOVE for Bugaboo to learn to communicate. I would LOVE for Bug Boy to have less anxiety about every little detail. But they are doing well and are happy and our family is happy. We really have more than we need and are very blessed. No matter how little sleep I get I realize that it is only temporary (although it is still difficult to remember that at 2am!).

Have a great weekend. I may or may not check in, depending on the schedule of events. In the meantime, here is your moment of zen. Look closely:

Food, Glorious Food!

2007-03-01T09:32:00.000-05:00

Okey dokey. The number one reason I am glad to be pill-free is that I can now resume eating like a pig at a trough.

Whilst taking the evil pills I completely lost my appetite. I could barely choke down two meals a day, taking until ten o'clock in the morning to be interested in food in the very least. Those of you that know me well know that my life revolves nearly entirely around food. I love to think about it, talk about it, eat it, make it. Food, food, FOOD!!!

Somehow I was blessed enough to be born with the metabolism and body that I have. This is not the case for the rest of my family, though. My sisters struggle to maintain weight and work very hard to lose a few measly pounds. My brother can gain twenty pounds in a few weeks (Go figure, he is a cop. But it isn't donuts that get him, he is the Wawa-soft-pretzel-kinda-guy). My Dad has been large his entire life (read: morbidly obese) and my mother, before her medical problems ensued, was overweight my entire childhood. Exercise wasn't exactly the cornerstone of our family values. We were signed up for sports and dance but it kills me to know what we were eating and doing as children. I try very hard to change that in my children.

When I say I am obsessed with food, I do not mean junk food. I have my moments when I eat C-R-A-P like everyone else. I do think about potatoes quite often (my drug of choice) and overindulge on tea, which I do not feel guilty about in the least. When I obsess I think about prepping food, creating new meals, chopping veggies, making soups and stews. I love reading food journals on the Web. Of course, I do have major food texture issues. I cannot eat cake or most desserts (too sweet, weird consistency). I loathe pancakes and waffles. I cannot even think about oatmeal or cream of wheat without gagging, I do not like that texture (but can eat mashed potatoes, go figure!). I do like fruits, veggies and grains. I made a great vegetarian for two years except for the fact that I cannot eat nuts, do not like tofu and cannot gag down edamame. Back to animal protein I went (although we do not meat it everyday, I do like some veggie products, like veggie sausage and boca burgers).

The one thing that has remained constant is dairy. We love us some dairy around these parts. There are usually ten or more types of cheese in our refrigerator and we always have yogurt in there (although I cannot stand the consistency of yogurt, either!). Bug Boy now drinks soy and I am slowly switching Bugaboo over. Even Darling drinks soy now and uses it on his cereal and in his coffee. The only thing that we do not care for is soy cheese. Sorry, cannot do it. It is lousy and doesn't melt the same way!

All this food talk has made me hungry. Time for breakfast!

That's All I am Going to Say About THAT

2007-02-28T08:21:00.000-05:00

Warning: A whole Lotta TMI in this post!

Last night we managed to get Bugaboo in bed around eleven. He gave us a difficult time going to sleep, but at least he did not scream and cry all evening. I think we both would have broken down in tears at that point!

Darling dozed off on the couch while I was attempting to get my evening routines done. I gave up after a few minutes and left the dishes and lunches for morning (which I now regret, but I just couldn't go another thing last night!) and sat down to check e-mail and surf for a few mins. I needed to clear my head. Then I chased us both to bed. After I crawled into bed, however, we both kinda decided that we weren't going to bed right away, if you know what I mean. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge. Yep, wild and crazy stuff went on. And that's all I am going to say about THAT.

(Except that it was really awesome and hasn't happened in several weeks because of the heck that has broken loose around here.)

I think part of the reason that I actually WANTED to be with my husband is that I felt so much relief after Bugaboo went to bed. I mean, it is technically that part of my cycle that I'd want to (you know, ovulation, if I actually ovulate these days, I do not know). But I think the other part is that since I decided to quit taking an oral contraceptive (WHAT??? Good Catholic Girl taking the pill???) my mood and libido has been much better.

I started taking it after I weaned Ian because I was having horrible cycles. Heavy, awful, inconsistent, painful periods. It was dreadful. Here I was anemic to begin with and the days that I had my period I was unable to crawl out of bed. I hurt so badly. And for a girl who has a pretty high tolerance for pain, that is saying something. After repeated trips to my OB/GYN and several tests, they decided I was in perimenopause. At the ripe old age of thirty-two! Now, it doesn't matter a hill of beans because people can be in perimenopause for years before the real thing comes. My cycle has never been normal, it has always been kinda all over the place. Short period, looooong fertile mucus period (like, 9 or ten days, depending) and then it would all happen again in twenty days, thirty days, twenty-eight days, who knew?

I finally asked my OB/GYN (a DO, not likely to offer me meds unless I beg for them) if there was ANYTHING that I could do to straighten it out. I was desperate because it was really interfering with things. I was tired of bleeding pints of blood all in one day only to have it be gone the next day. I felt like crap, was having major hormonal swings and was depressed often. I was seeing a psychologist and she told me to get a medical workup to be sure. They found out I was anemic, still (big surprise there). Then the OB finally said, "Well, as a last resort, you could try a low-estrogen pill. It may straighten things out. Or not. It is up to you." I talked it over with Darling, who basically left it up to me. He wasn't crazy about me taking it but knew it might bring me some relief. So I started it eighteen months ago.

The first few months were glorious. I had a four-week cycle. I had three days of a period. It didn't hurt. I didn't feel like I was hemorrhaging all the time. I felt normal. Darling commented it was like I was pregnant again, but I didn't gain as much weight (one of the unfortunate side effects of the pill). My hemoglobin started creeping up closer to normal. No more clotting.

Then I started having spotting in between cycles. No biggy! A little spotting doesn't hurt much. Then I started having spotting for a week or more. Then I started having the spotting and no period to speak of. Then I starting spotting for a month at a time, never getting an actual period. I went back to the OB, the checked things out, I was physically ok. She gave me the option of discontinuing the pill or switching to another one with low estrogen. I picked the new pill.

That was in October. I have had no periods since then and I am not pregnant. I finally stopped the pill last week because I was spotting for an entire month and never got a period. Darling was freaking out so I had to take about thirty pregnancy tests to assure him that we were not expecting in December (one of our lucky months!). I am still waiting to see what happens this month.

Back to the drawing board! I am now going to attempt NFP again, it sorta worked before. I may take a refresher class. The most difficult time I have with NFP is that since my cycle is so irregular it is very difficult to figure out just when I ovulate. Ovulation predictors do not work, they tell me I am never ovulating. I obviously did ovulate twice!

I will NEVER take an oral contraceptive again. I've learned my lesson on that one. I think for now one we will just keep doing what we've done all along. Or perhaps I can convince Darling to head to the urologist (pigs have a more likely chance of flying today!).

I just realized, tomorrow is March. Just to be safe, Darling is sleeping on the couch for the ENTIRE MONTH!!!! HA!

How Did You Get Here?

2007-02-27T15:23:00.000-05:00

Most of the people that read this blog are people I know. Once in a while a person from a galaxy far, far away stops by. Other times I get people who click through blogger or click on links from people's sidebars until they get here. Here are this weeks google searches that landed people here:

gap old school sneakers (in an asian language, no doubt)
bj's playset review
autism sing-songy voice
layered bob
random muscled boys (Oh. My. Goodness. Don't even want to know what they were looking for!)
bugboys

Crazy stuff, peeps.

Bugaboo's Latest Antics

2007-02-26T22:48:00.000-05:00

Bugaboo has had a complete personality change the past two weeks. Gone is the smiling, happy and active little boy. In his place is a miserable, screaming imp. We do not like the newer version of Bugaboo and would prefer it if the old Bugaboo came back to us. Have you seen this child?

Seriously, though, the past two weeks have been difficult for him medically. He had a wicked ear infection a few weeks ago, got an antibiotic shot and it cleared up. Then he started with horrible tummy troubles. We started on the new tummy meds, things started to clear up and the screaming began. We ended up back at the doctor with a raging ear infection, resulting in both of his ear tubes being projected out of his ear drum. With some drops he has been doing much better, the Motrin helps the rest. This weekend we chose to stop the laxative, as he was going SO often that it seemed to hurt him.

Big mistake. Since he arrived home from school today he has cried, bitten his hands, screamed, run around screaming, run around laughing, destroyed half the house and has been giving us massive drama about going to bed. We started the bedtime routine at 7:30. I am posting this at eleven and DH finally has had the last straw and is taking him for a ride. We've tried warm baths, hot compresses, rocking and pacing, cuddling, singing, feeding, drinking, he just won't settled down. He screams so much he is closing his eyes (pure exhaustion) and still screaming. Something is just not right.

I know he needs to go to the bathroom but that cannot be all that is wrong with him. Couple that with the fact that he just cannot explain how he feels and the fact that he must be frustrated being belief, and you have a recipe for disaster. This child is at his breaking point. He is angry, frustrated, moody and sad. He is not the child that I know. I am hoping that this anger will lead him to the place we need him to be. None of us can take much more! We are ALL tired and depressed about it. We just do not know what the next step is. I have prayed and prayed and cried and cried. I need answers for him.

This evening he tried to run himself a bath. I was cutting out paper dolls with my little neighbor girls (we were sitting RIGHT under the bathroom, mind you) and the water must have been running for ten minutes. Little Miss and Middle Girl asked me to print out more doll clothes so I sat down to print them and he came running into the room crying. Middle Girl kept trying to tell me he was wet and I brushed her off, my eyes still looking for paper dolls. I figured she meant like his diaper was wet or that he was playing in the sink again. She said, "No! He is REALLY wet. I mean REALLY!" I turned to look at him, noticed he was fully clothed and completely, soaking, wetter-than-a-fish wet. I also saw a trail of puddles through the kitchen so I went up to the linen closet to grab towels to dry him (and the floor) and only then did I hear the tub running, drain closed, showerhead partially on. The water was freezing cold and up to the top of the tub. I caught it just in the nick of time.

I am sitting here right now emotionally and physically drained. I am sore from rocking his thirty-six pound body. I am tired from not sleeping a full night for two straight weeks (and six straight years) and for not sleeping a wink for two nights. I am weary because I feel defeated and trodden upon. Tonight Autism is winning and I do not want to let it. I refuse to have this take over my child and change him. I want better than that for him. But I am oh so tired...Shhhh...Shhhh...

They are back. Please pray he is asleep. Please pray that he is better tomorrow. Regardless, I will be calling the doctor and staging a sit-in until someone figures out what the hell is going on.

Thank Goodness it is Monday

2007-02-26T08:44:00.000-05:00

It sounds awful, I know. I am actually happy that Bugaboo is back in school today. I am even more overjoyed at the thought that despite the weather (which I personally do not feel is so bad, even looking at my street) there is no delayed opening and no snow day. I cringed at the thought of it last evening as the snorecasters changed their minds, from one inch to four inches to six inches to four again, and then, Oh yeah! We forgot to mention the ice, frozen rain, sleet, etc.

And to top it all off, Bugaboo had the audacity to start screaming at three am. I know he was in discomfort, he would thrash around, stick his feet in between my knees, place my hand on his heart (he loves to cuddle that way when he is ill) but just couldn't get comfy. I know for a fact I forgot to give him some Motrin and his ear drops before bed, I just could not bring myself to get up and get him anything. Darling was kind enough to do it when he heard me pleading with Bugaboo to "please go to sleep! Mommy cannot hack this anymore after ten days!" He obliged once his Daddy got the holy grail (his sippy cup). And not just ANY cup, mind you. You know that many children with Bugaboo's type of delays have to have THE cup and THE spoon and THE pair of shoes. I have learned to buy three of the same shirt or pairs of shoes in different sizes!

I had this crazy, fancy idea that since Bugaboo had ten days off, and I am a certified special education teacher, that I would spend the entire week sticking to a rigorous schedule and working his program (ha! WHAT PROGRAM!). I thought I would emphasize language, language, language. Mommy and Bugaboo would spend the entire day just reinforcing vocabulary. With Bugaboo's school mate there for the week (his mommy is a High School teacher and a single mom with no one to watch him) I thought it was the perfect opportunity to get them interacting and working on relationships. What I did NOT plan for was his belly upsets, including four days straight of constipation and then his ears exploding to the point that his tubes would pop out and bleed!

We spent the entire week cuddling. We paced while he cried in pain. We heated up his bean bag (the one mommy uses for her sinus headaches) to place on his tummy and help with the gas. We went for rides when he was beyond soothing, since the car is one of the few things he loves at any time of the day. When he did feel up to playing he would crawl around pushing his buses or would devise ways to get outside when mommy was peeing (he is a MASTER at eloping at the most inconvenient times!). He did enjoy getting his snow and rain boots out, and all of our boots for that matter, and wore the around the house. He even wore them to bed most nights! I did managed to play with him and his pal a little and I took them for looooong daily walks around town. This was my only break from seven am to seven pm everyday. One lucky night I managed to go tutor (yes, I've started again, I am so glad I did) and go to choir practice all in one night! It was wonderful to work with a student again but it solidified my belief that once I can return to work (if!) that it will not be in a classroom. I will continue tutoring but cannot bring myself to teach in a classroom again. I do not think I can spend all day with children with autism and then come home to it, too. I have to take a break from it! I cannot let autism become our entire life. I want us to have a life and then have autism. Does that make sense?

The crazy thing is that as much as I enjoy being with children and I am proud of the fact that I worked my ample posterior off to get this degree, I now know my limitations. I cannot tell you how blessed I am to have the experiences that I have had. I love the fact that I chose to go back to school (after four majors and nine years) to finish my degree. I have always had babysitting or daycare jobs. I worked my way through college with tutoring work (and Darling's support, we were married by then). I am the adult that always ends up watching everyone else's kids at parties or sitting at the kid table. I just feel called to be with children. At at time in my life where I had NO IDEAS and NO DIRECTION, I was pointed at a school and drawn to work there. It was not for the money (ain't much in this field) but for that feeling of accomplishment. The feeling that I was doing something important and that others counted on me to do my job the best was I could. I feel the same way about being the mother of my children.

Even though life has thrown me curves I know that I am doing what I am supposed to be doing. Without getting all crazy-philosophical on y'all, I will tell you that it "just fits." I cannot really explain it. I have never been more at ease or relaxed in my life. Now, yesterday I was getting Irish around these parts and had an entirely different post in mind. You know, the one where I complain about how weird my kids are and how much I hate it? I am glad I never got a chance to sit and write it, I am sure I would have deleted it today. It is not truly how I feel.

This is how I feel about our life, with or without autism:

I am blessed by a wonderful, loving, supportive husband who puts our needs first (except when he wants to buy a car)
I have two awesome and happy little boys who always know when to give their momma kisses!
I am fortunate to live in a nice house in a nice neighborhood and send my children to get schools where they get the services they both need
I cannot tell you what a blessing it is to have such a supportive and loving family. Without our siblings and parents we would be lost. Our parents may have their annoying moments, but they truly love our children and support us the best way they can.
I am one lucky woman to have everything I need and more. This is a difficult life to lead (read:stress!) but it is the only life I have and I try to live it to the full.
I have a healthy, nearly-fit body (I will get back to the gym today after a two-week hiatus) that enables me to go through the physically punishing part of parenting children with ASDs. The meltdowns and tantrums are not easy to manage and keeping my body happy helps.
I am fortunate to have many friends. Friends that will listen anytime I call them. Friends that don't think I am a dolt for missing a coffee date that I helped plan because my son was up sceaming all night and my husband wanted to let me sleep because he knew I needed it more than a cup of joe! (if you can even fathom that concept!) Friends that call me and tell me when I am being an idiot. Friends who like me even though they've met me. Friends who read my blog and still like me.

Most of all I am overjoyed at the fact that I have a brain that can handle planning, paperwork, IEPs, therapies, appointments and day-to-day home life. I can get my house looking decent before school buses arrive. I can throw dinners together in minutes. I have routines that keep it from being too overwhelming. If I nag enough I can even get Darling to pack lunches (he slides once in a while). If someone is sick I manage to keep my house from going to heck in a hand basket. (Thank Flylady and motivated moms!)

When I become overwhelmed, Darling can sense it and heads it off by coming home early from work, taking the boys to HD or for a long ride, drawing a bath for me or just leaving me alone and getting them out of my hair. He will let me sit and play mindless arcade games online or crash on the couch and flip through my Discovery Health Shows or put up with me watching my beloved Extreme Makeover Home Edition. He knows I am addicted to caring about the plight of others and need to watch things and cry and get emotional (which I did, a few weeks ago there was a 60 minutes segment about autism, followed by a family on EMHE who have FIVE out of six children with autism, I was very emotional and hopeful after watching it!). He knows that sometimes I just need to turn into jelly and not move, speak or respond in anyway. I am going out on a limb here, but this may be part of the reason I met him and married him.

This week I have decided to dedicate to me. I haven't had a haircut since October. My eyebrows are growing in and I need them reshaped. I haven't colored my hair and the grey is showing BIG TIME. I haven't been to the gym in two weeks because Bugaboo doesn't exactly like the babysitting area (too loud) and Bug Boy kinda tolerates it. So, I have plans to eat well, exercise and sleep as much as humanly possible this week.It means sticking to a schedule and getting it done, but I will do it!

Life is good...

Friday Wrap-Up

2007-02-23T07:37:00.000-05:00

My first task of the day was to get outside in the blustery wind and clean up the doggy treasures before more meltage occurred and made it a poop-swamp. Digging and scrapping doggy-doo out of little half-frozen, melted and refrozen puddles is always a fun game. I literally had a whole Tarzhay bag full of dog stuff (and snow). Don't try this at home, kids...

Bugaboo is still asleep, as of seven-thirty. Either he stayed up too late (75% likely) is sick (20% likely) or actually needs more sleep (5% likely). I am not a gambler and I do not care why he is still in bed, just that I may actually finish a hot cup of tea sans nuking this morning...

Bug Boy was awake before I was and is happily chowing down on Honey Nut O's and a banana. He is being amazingly compliant this morning, a huge change from the past few weeks (since the Groundhog's Day Fiasco of 2007). I think part of it has to do with the fact that since he woke up early he was able to say goodbye to Daddy. Daddy has been working twelve-hour days lately and barely sees the boys, except for weekends. I like sleeping in on Saturdays...

Speaking of Darling, yesterday he had his yearly review (for 2006) and received his raise and promotion, as promised. He also received a sizable bonus, enough to literally buy the car he wants, cash (there is a 2006 leftover that is a bit cheaper). That is after taxes. I, of course, reminded him that if he wanted to go out and spend that kind of money all in one day, I could think of three therapies we could plunk down money for TODAY and about five things that need to be done to the house in the next three months (roof, a few windows, siding, ripping down the unsafe deck and regrading underneath to prevent seepage in our basement). For some odd reason the conversation ended there. I cannot figure out why...

The good news is that Darling is being serious about staying on antidepressants. He finally agreed that it wasn't just work stressing him out (he was blaming it on work) but that he has major depressive episodes and probably has a chemical imbalance. He has been so much more interactive with us and happier all around. He even comments on how much better he is able to handle the little things that used to set him off. Do not think he doesn't get angry, he still does. It is just that he does not completely lose it when he drops a contact or spills a drink. And when I had to be out three nights in a row this week (parent meeting, choir practice, tutoring) he did not turn into a zombie and get snitty when I came home. The house was picked up and the kids were in bed, a major feat. Now if only I could get him to pack lunches...

Speaking of being out of the house, I am looking forward to breakfast/coffee with the girls tomorrow morning. Tomorrow is our coffeefest for the flygirls. We have a new favorite spot, thanks to Trace. I plan on getting there early to get the good table, since there is a whole gaggle of us...

Speaking of early, the kids next door are coming over in five minutes and I am putting them on their buses. Their parents have a home-based business and work some crazy hours, the dad was working until MIDNIGHT setting up servers for a client. They have to work all weekend (and I mean, all day Saturday and Sunday) so Polite Boy may stay here all weekend and keep Bug Boy busy. The girls will go to their Nana's. I have had them every morning and afternoon this week, and they stayed for dinner last night. I have also had Bugaboo's little school friend here all week from eight until three-thirty (he also has PDD). Needless to say, I need Calgon in the worst way. I also need to shave, desperately. Not that you needed to know that...

Speaking of hair removal, I need a haircut! I also over-plucked the eyebrows before Christmas and the woman at the salon begged me to let them grow in for six weeks or more, she swares (swears, even) that it is the only way to fix them. Letting them grow in has shown me why I pluck them in the first place. I tell people I am going for the Brooke Shields look, but deep down I cringe when I see my almost-unibrow. Since Darling has one, too, both kids inherited it as well. Lucky...

My day is starting, kids are arriving. Have a great day/weekend/Chinese New Year/first week of Lent, y'all.

Bugaboo and the Bad Ears

2007-02-21T20:49:00.000-05:00

For the past week Bugaboo has been miserable. He has cried constantly and it takes us forty-five minutes to an hour to calm him down. Just when we think we have it figured out he starts all over again. Since he hasn't been going to the bathroom everyday we figured it was his bowels and reflux acting up again.

The GI recommended we put him back on the laxative and we did. After a week on it he still wasn't producing a bowel movement everyday. The screaming and crying was getting progressively worse and his personality had done a complete turn around at this point. Gone was our happy, laid-back content little smiler. In his place was a miserable, reticent child that I did not care for too much. We updated the GI yesterday (it had been a week and it was getting worse by the hour) and she suggested doubling the laxative, adding Milk of Magnesia (good luck getting it into him!) and a suppository as a last resort. He FINALLY started going to the bathroom last night and it quickly became diarrhea, which was the plan. They wanted him completely flushed out to be sure there was no obstruction or twist. If he did not go by this morning they wanted him in the ER for an x-ray or CT scan.

Last night I had a parent meeting and returned home at nearly ten o'clock. Bugaboo was still awake, still crying, completely miserable. Darling had tried several times to get him settled and to get him to sleep. He finally gave up. Bugaboo just screamed and screamed. I tried getting him calmed and tried every trick in the book. He was finally asleep, exhausted beyond belief, around eleven, nearly four hours after his typical bedtime. Darling and I were also exhausted, I had dealt with the screaming all day!

This morning he woke up at the regular time. He was groggy and cranky. He barely touched his food. By ten o'clock he was crying again. After an hour of it I COMPLETELY lost it and yelled at him. I think I had finally reached my breaking point after a week. I just picked him up, looked in his face and yelled, "WHAT IS YOUR F-ING PROBLEM????!!!!" Of course, that just made him cry more and I felt awful for it, but I was at a total loss. I tried calling Darling at work. No answer. I tried calling two of my friends. No answer. That was the straw that broke the camels back, so to speak. I decided that the only person that could help me was the pediatrician.

All I had to do was tell them he was screaming for days, they heard him screaming and said, "Bring him right in!" I packed up Bugaboo and his school buddy that I am watching this week and away we went. She checked his belly. Soft, no distension and slightly gassy, but fine. She checked his breathing. Fine. She tried his temp. Normal. The fact that it is an ear thermometer and he went postal should have been my first clue.

Normally to look in his ears we have to restrain him. I have the technique down pat: He sits facing away from me, my legs over his, one arm wrapped around his shoulders to hold him against me and keep his arms from moving and the other arm holds his head to the side against my shoulder. The doc (amazing woman!) dives in and checks one ear, then we move his head the other way. It is NOT easy. He REALLY fought us this time. And when she finally got a decent glimpse (easy, since you can see his nekkid ear drum with out an otoscope, his ear canals are deformed) she exclaimed, "OH WOW!" And proceeded to tell me that there is blood in his ear canal, the ear drum is bulged out, the tubes are popping out from the extreme pressure in his ears. No wonder he is screaming in so much pain! The whole time we thought it was his belly, and part of it might have been. It just never occured to us that his ears would be bothering him. He just had a WELL VISIT on Friday, for crying out loud! They looked fine! It happened THAT fast.

Normally we have a few clues. Low grade temp, nose stops running (which it did! But I just didn't notice!) the dog goes nuts licking him. I think we just weren't paying attention, or, were side-tracked by the stomach issues. I know we shouldn't beat ourselves up over it. But the truth is I feel like every time he makes some decent progress we end up taking several steps backwards. This past week was especially frustrating and difficult. He just wanted to be left alone, but when he cried he wanted us to pace around the house holding all thirty-six pounds of his four-year-old body. Since he is more than half my size, that is not easy for me!

I am really hoping and praying that next week, when he returns to school, he is well and happy and ready to go back. We need some massive progress soon.

Happy Ash Wednesday! (or, Mj Gets All Preachy On Her Bad Self)

2007-02-21T08:50:00.000-05:00

hol·i·day /ˈhɒlɪˌdeɪ/ –noun
1.
a day fixed by law or custom on which ordinary business is suspended in commemoration of some event or in honor of some person.
2.
any day of exemption from work (distinguished from working day).
3.
a time or period of exemption from any requirement, duty, assessment, etc.: New businesses may be granted a one-year tax holiday.
4.
a religious feast day; holy day, esp. any of several usually commemorative holy days observed in Judaism.

I know are thinking that "Happy Ash Wednesday" sounds ridiculous, but I have my reasons.

Think about it. Why do some of us observe this day? Why do we observe holidays that have morphed from pagan rituals to hallmark holidays? What is the meaning behind the days printed on our calendars? I'll give you a hint: It has nothing to do with buying cards.

In our family we do not "celebrate" St. Valentine's Day. We do not buy each other expensive, meaningless gifts to "profess our love." There is no need because we practice that 365 days a year, or at least attempt to. We do not make a big deal out of New Year's. We do not drink our selves silly on St. Patty's Day (although we conceived that night, twice!). What is the point? We allow our kids to dress up and trick-or-treat on Halloween, but we do not go nuts putting out ghosts and skeletons. We keep it "fall themed." We do not celebrate "SANTA" on Christmas. Bug Boy knows who Santa was and why he is just a "fun person" around Christmas Time. We do not get our picture taken with him and we do not give presents from him. We put no more emphasis on Santa than we do on St. Lucia or St. Nick's Day. They are just ideas and stories.

Do not get me started on Mother's Day and Father's Day. We could seriously be here all day.

Now y'all are thinking that I am a boring, mean mom who takes all of the fun out of celebration. If it makes you feel better, we DO make a big deal out of birthdays, because we want them to know how blessed we feel to have brought them into this world.

Think about the meaning behind the word "holiday."

[Origin: bef. 950; ME; OE hāligdæg. See holy, day]

Get it? Holy Day, Holyday, Holiday? Yeah, that's where it comes from. Religions have observed HOLY DAYS for years. That is where the emphasis needs to be, on observing the Holy part of the day.

Now, don't get yer panties in a twist. I'm not saying that you need to convert and celebrate Ash Wednesday because I said so. I am not even saying that you have to ditch Santa for your kids, that is your business. What I am saying is this:

If you tell yourself that you are going to "celebrate" or "observe" a particular holiday, please be mindful of just what it is you are observing. Don't do it half-assed. Find out what this day is all about and figure out why you are doing this in the first place.

I know. Easier said than done. But seriously, I have heard so many excuses about why people ignore the foundations of holidays that it kills me to recall them. You know, they don't have time, don't get the point, it is too difficult, it is too expensive to get the right foods, etc, etc. Hogwash. If you are going to "believe" something, don't cop out halfway through. Go for the full monty.

No, I am not referring to nekkid middle-aged men doing a strip tease because they need money or else they go on the dole.

Take your beliefs seriously. Investigate why you believe it. Understand more about yourself through your chosen spiritual path. Take time to find out who you are in regards to that path. Learn more about your religion. Find out why you observe those days and live that observation, don't just read about it. The only way to truly raise your children in faith is to live it every day. Pray WITH them. Go to services WITH them. I know it is difficult, Bugaboo is the last person I want to bring to Ash Wednesday services, believe me. But I will be there this today, and walk around all day with ashes on my head for a reason. To observe something that I am live everyday. That is all I am on my soapbox for.

Thanks, enjoy the veal.

And, for the record, I do not do "Fat Tuesday." But I do fast today, go to services and abstain from meat.

What's So Bad About This Life?

2007-02-19T22:03:00.000-05:00

I will admit that things around here are not always easy. The past week with Bugaboo has certainly tested the limits of my patience. I have yelled at him once or twice and swatted him on the behind this weekend when he wouldn't leave the fireplace alone. I am reaching my boiling point a bit sooner in the evening than I would usually reach it. I have found myself wishing for a weekend away (which, incidentally, is coming up in a few weeks!).

Now, while I complain about how hectic things are and how much I need a break, it really is not all that bad. I have a good life. I have a great husband that works his tail off to support us so that I can stay home and take care of our home and children. I have two amazing little boys who never cease to amaze me. I have a nice place to live in a nice neighborhood. My boys are doing well in school and have great teachers. I am healthy and happy and am typically well-rested (although this week Bugaboo has been difficult to get to bed and wakes up frequently).

When my mother comments about how difficult it is for me to function, I try to tell her that it isn't more difficult than what anyone else goes through. When people tell me that they are sorry I have to go through with this, I tell them that I am glad I am going through it. Now, at three in the morning, when Bugaboo is screaming bloody murder and is completely out of it and he is out of control, I am not exactly thinking about how great my life is. Quite the contrary. Sometimes in my sleep-induced stupor, I tell Bugaboo that I do not like him right then and that I am going to sleep and he can just scream if he wants to. Sometimes I tell my husband I am leaving and never coming back. When he tells me this the next morning I laugh, mostly because I do not remember saying it. The truth is that despite the fact that I constantly wonder how the heck I pull this off everyday, I like my life. No, I LOVE my life.

If someone told me six years ago that I could have my pick between "normal" kids and kids like mine, I have to honestly tell you I'd probably have picked the "normal" ones without hesitation. After working with children with special needs for so long I knew that there wasn't a chance in heck that I'd want that stress and pain in my life. It is more expensive to raise special needs children. They are sick more often. They need more special toys and games and clothing. They require special foods. You have to fight, fight, fight to get the basics. You have to worry about their future much more, because you aren't sure if they will ever be independent. You worry about them running away in the middle of the night. You find yourself hoping they will never be victimized, since it seems so easy.

What I've realized looking back is that I would not trade it for anything. There are no guarantees in life. It was entirely chance, or so I thought. I knew I had to love my children and deal with whatever I got. Somehow I knew when they were born that I would not have an ordinary life. My babies were just different somehow. One never stopped crying and screaming and puking and the other was entirely too complacent. It was a big, fat, red sign of things to come. And I knew it was coming.

So, what's so bad about learning patience in parenting more quickly than others? What's so bad about learning about unconditional love as a parent? Some people go their entire lives without ever figuring it out. I've got everything I need and more. I am truly blessed.

Well-Itnentioned People

2007-02-15T08:13:00.000-05:00

I receive several calls and E-mails a week about everything related to Autism. There are people in my life that try to make sure I hear everything that is out there, which I appreciate. There are also people in my life that think I have my head in the sand and feel they need to point out every little thing in every little report and then call me and ask me if I've read/seen/called about it. While I appreciate their thoughtfulness, it is starting to get OLD.

My Mother-in-Law never passes up an opportunity to give me information. She is the one, by the way, that called my husband one night when I was out (on purpose, so she could lecture and grill him on how we have our head in the sand, even though all along we were PRIVATELY deciding how to handle the matter and were in the process of seeing specialists and having him tested) and decided that Bugaboo had Autism, because she read a list on the Internet. He was fifteen months old at the time. She complained that he never looked at her and he screamed when she came over. Never mind that we were struggling with the realization that something was going on with our child. I can't help but feel that it was an, "I told you so!" situation. I felt like my parenting skills were being judged.

Now, she truly does dote on the kids. She lives close by and comes over when we need her. When Darling was on his recent business trip and I ended up with a stomach virus, she came over when I needed her. She has done that many times in the past. She is the one that came over as much as we needed when we were new parents, and again when I had a C-section and had a two-year-old at home.

I guess I feel uncomfortable with her passing so much along because it is usually old information that we've seen and discussed and because she almost always asked if we've tried that for Bugaboo, if we are considering it for Bugaboo or if we think we should do it for Bugaboo. Because, you know, it is that easy. Just read it in Newsweek and VOILA! Instant thousand-dollar therapy for your kid that has no scientific research and no guarantee it will work for any child. Just a bunch of doctors who say, "Hey! They want a cure! Let's give them anti-psychotic drugs and see what happens! Let's put them on funky diets and see what happens!" Sorry, call me a doubting-Thomas but I ain't trying stuff like that on my child. He is not a Guinea Pig.

Don't get me wrong. We've considered some weird things. We've done the GFCF diet (very briefly) and we've put him on vitamin supplements. We have tried essential oils (he HATED them) and certain behavior therapies. But one thing that drives me crazy is when people hear you have a problem and say, "We have a drug for that!" Remember, my Darling works in pharmaceuticals, and we know more dangers and risks than most people. There is a time and place where medication is useful and needed, but we believe very strongly that our child will not be on psychotic drugs. It is not worth the risk of added ticking, liver damage and stunted growth just to make him "more aware" of his surroundings.

That said, there are other medications that we may pursue in the future. He is only four years old! We have no way of knowing how he will change in the next year. Part of me feels that I am not giving him every opportunity available and wants to give him meds to see what will happen. The other part of me says that it isn't such a good idea, that we need to give him more time. But then again, we feel like we are running out of time! We feel like he is four and we need to DO SOMETHING!!!! What if we find out a few years from now if we just had rubbed lotion on his ears or had just made him eat popcorn once a day, that he would be talking to us. I know it sounds silly, but when you are in this position you feel like you could try anything. Then your senses kick in and you laugh at yourself for your clouded judgment. Then you pray even harder for guidance because you want God to send you on the right path.

I know there is a plan for us. Bugaboo is here to teach us something. He is here to prove the statistics wrong and to bring our family closer. He is here to teach us to fight for our needs. He is here to make us rely on one another and to love each other unconditionally. I am sure if there is more, it will be revealed to me. I've always prayed for patience...guess what? I am learning it now! Your prayers are always answered, friends. The answer isn't always the one you want.

Snow Day!

2007-02-14T09:31:00.000-05:00

Wanna know something cool? Do ya? Huh? Do ya?

The kids have off and so does Darling! YEAH!

Ok, I am not completely overjoyed at the thought of spending every waking moment housebound with no hope of relief but it is not entirely a horrible thing. For starters, because Darling is not required to show up at work today I have some relief from the Baby Bugs. The kids slept slightly late today (woohoo! 7 am!) and therefore we were able to stay under the covers talking quietly until we got our lazy selves out of bed to get them breakfast. We are all still in pajamas and might not shower for a while just because we can do that today.

Things have a funny way of working out. We have been quite stressed as of late and were lamenting Sunday evening that we both needed a day off. We got it! No appointments, no lunches to pack, no bus schedules to worry about, no errands to run, no one we absolutely have to call. Nothing.

All we have to do today is eat when we are hungry and go to bed when we are tired. We may actually try shoveling but may have to hit HD and pray they have ice melt, since the last three storms have depleted our supply of enviro-friendly ice melt. We may even COOK but are leaning towards take-out. We might even run a load or two of laundry. I might fold it. But we do not have to.

The only potentially bad thing about today is that Darling's brother is due to fly in from California. He is visiting this week because we are having a family gathering for MIL's sixtieth birthday this weekend. He will spend the first three days with his father (not Darling's father, BIL is his half brother) and then the rest of the time with us. That is, if he can get here in this mess. Methinks his plane will be delayed, he is supposed to arrive this afternoon. Or not.

And the best part? I do not have to pretend to celebrate Valentine's Day today. Darling and I feel very similarly about this day. We think it is a lab-created holiday for people to sell tons of cards and flowers. My personal opinion is that it is not needed and that people should attempt to be romantic and thoughtful EVERY day. I feel the same way about Mother's Day and Father's Day. And don't' get me started on the fact that there are ST. PATTY's cards. This Irish chick thinks that it is dumb.

So, here I stay in my jammies, boys playing on the floor. Sipping cups of tea and eating a banana. Life doesn't get any better than this!

ADHD Brains and how they work

2007-02-13T08:00:00.000-05:00

Ok, wanna know how an ADHD brain works? Here is a portion of our conversation (well, Bug Boy's soliloquy, since he doesn't actually have back and forth conversations) on the way to duPont for our appointments yesterday:

Bug Boy: Mom?

Me: yes?

Bug Boy: Mom? I don't want Daddy to sell the jeep. I like riding in the jeep in the summer. I like it when we take the top off and go and get Ice Cream. Ice Cream has coliseum in it and that is good for my broken arm*. I like riding in the jeep. Hey! Look! A bird's nest! Do you think it's a bird? Or do you think it's a squirrel? Did you know they don't have squirrels in Australia? Shadow loves chasing squirrels. She's never caught one. Nope, never. Shadow needs her teeth cleaned. Her breath is really bad. Know what? Mom? Know what? I brush my teeth everyday and I do not have bad breath. Shadow does. Look! Another nest! Know what? I don't want to get blood work today. Ok? I don't have to get it, right? No blood work? We're going to go to the doctor to get my mole checked. I don't want them to take it off. It will hurt and they will have to give needles and blood work. I don't like that. I want to keep my mole. Can we get a kid's meal when we get there?

Me: The cafeteria won't be open until 11 for lunch...

Bug Boy: I want to get chicken nuggets and french fries. Not cheese, though. Nope. Can't have dairy. And I don't like their cheese. I'll just get ketchup. Can we stop at Wawa and get a soft pretzel?

And people wonder why my head is spinning at the end of the day...

*Bug Boy's arm has been healed for about seven months now,although he still refers to it as broken. We are selling our '84 CJ-7 garage-kept Sunday driving car and Bug Boy cannot comprehend why. It was the mantra of the day, "I do not want to sell the jeep!"

UPDATE: Perky wants to know if everyone's brains are supposed to work like this. Well, yes and know. It is one thing to be an enthusiastic child who wants to point out everything he knows in life. It is another thing altogether when he cannot concentrate, has difficulty relating things (even with the incessant chatter, yes) and when this type of brain activity gets in the way of normal day-to-day functioning. Ooops, said that N-word again. Normal. I mean TYPICAL, mmmkay? So when it gets in the way of functioning TYPICALLY, like being able to sit and read a book, being able to attend to a teacher's instructions, being able to control your body from doing certain things, then yes, it is a problem. But, like i said, it is the least of my concern. There are so many things going on with these kids that I just cannot think about it right now. So, if it is getting in the way of functioning typically, you cannot get organized, you feel overwhelmed because you get nothing done, you cannot carry on a conversation because you are constantly distracted, then yes, get it checked out.

FIller

2007-02-12T06:44:00.000-05:00

I'll write more later, honest.

This weekend was very stressful. While Bugaboo was quite interactive and talkative he also drove us CRAZY. He was giggling and babbling the whole weekend, except that he also tore the house apart from top to bottom. Needless to say, I am sooooo looking forward to spending the whole morning with him at duPont undergoing a procedure.

Don't get alarmed. It is a simple thing, really. A gastric emptying scan , while boring and tedious, is as easy as drinking milk and taking pictures. The waiting in between (and not being able to feed him) is what is going to kill us. They have him drink, take a pic. He drinks more, they take more pics. Wait, wait, drink, pic. Wait more, wait even more, take a pic. We are hoping to have it done in 2-3 hours. Please pray. Bug Boy then has an appointment with dermatology at 11 so we have exactly three hours for the GES. Bug Boy is not thrilled with having to come with us so early (we leave at 7) and to have someone looking at his beloved mole.

Random Thoughts By Mj

2007-02-09T07:46:00.000-05:00

Just to clarify (since there were so many responses to my last post), I did not necessarily offend anyone, I just believe that perhaps the things I wrote were either taken the wrong way, or someone thought I was speaking directly to them when I was speaking to someone else entirely. I realize that I can write whatever I want and that this is my blog, yadda, yadda, yadda. I also feel it is important to get my point across (whatever in the world that point may be) in a way that is least offensive or emotionally upsetting as possible. You dig? So, while I do not believe I will censor what I decide to spew on the intertubes, I do feel I should take care in the WAY I say it. Okey Dokey? Good. Moving along...

(PS - nothing ups your stats and delurks folks than a good controversy.)

So the other day Darling and I were out with the boys. Bug Boy was telling us about his friend Zachary and how lucky Zachary is. How so? Well, for starters, apparently Zach celebrates Christmas AND Hanukkah! I mean, THAT'S ALOT OF PRESENTS!!! When we tried to explain that Hanukkah and Christmas were not about the presents, they were about celebrating something important, Bug Boys replied, "Well, Mom and Dad, I've given this a lot of thought. I am going to become Jewish. I WILL celebrate Hanukkah!" We almost died laughing. Quite a bit of conviction. We did let him know, however, that since his friends celebrated Hanukkah and Christmas and Ramadan and other holidays and observances, that it was ok to want to celebrate things that we do not usually partake in. We may not do those things at home but we are fine with him reading about it, talking with his friends and asking about it. I think he was satisfied with that answer. Until he told me in very plain words that he was angry that Zachary did not celebrate Easter. Ummmmm...Yeah. That was a difficult one to explain.

So, help me out, friends. When he is upset and asks what his Jewish friends do on Easter, what do I tell him? One friend said, "We go to the movies and eat Chinese." Is that an appropriate thing to tell him? We've just been working the angle that we are all special and that we all celebrate things in different ways. It is fun to learn about other cultures and holidays. We have to respect that others celebrate differently than we do and they do they same for us. But we are all the same in God's eyes. We are all special and unique people and are all given a special life...

We went to the car show last night, MIL stayed with the kids. She is good at putting them to bed before we get home but never passes up an opportunity to let us know how Bugaboo did and how much he cried. Or that he climbed in a window sill. Or that if he is constipated and needs prune juice! Prune Juice will do it! It helps everyone! Get PRUNE JUICE! AAAAHHHHHH!!!! Ok, nevermind the fact that this child has amazing taste ability and one drop will be enough to begin a hunger strike. And she makes it sound like, "OMG! He did THIS and THAT! Can you BELIEVE IT? I mean, you know, you need to DO something about that. THAT is not safe. THIS is not good. SO-AND-SO cousin (who is perfect to her) is a year younger and stopped doing that! HE'S STILL DRINKING OUT OF SIPPY CUPS!" Now, I love her. I appreciate that she cares and wants to offer. When walking out the door she made sure WE were sure that we wanted to leave our heavy jackets at home since it was cold (we parked across the street in a garage from the car show, we were not cold in the least). But, I cannot take it when she keeps telling us how to run our lives with Ian. She has no idea what it is like. She cannot possibly imagine how hard we work with him. He was sooooooo testing her last night, just by the description she gave. You know, "I think I'll flip the light switch. On. Off. On. Off. ONOFFONOFFONOFFONOFF. Oh, you want me to stop? Stop doing this? onoffonoffonoff. Stop turning the light switch on and off? This light switch right here? ONOFFONOFFONOFFONOFF. Ok, I'll stop switching THIS HERE light switch on and off. Just a minute. ONOFFONOFFONOFF." Yeah, that about sums it up. He knows how to push her buttons. He knows how to get her attention. He eats it up. And then he wails when she corrects him and she feels sorry for him and rocks him and walks around holding him (he is 36 lbs and four-years-old, y'all. Getting too big for the infant routine!). I think he does it to get her to pay attention to him, otherwise she kinda tends to just keep the peace and not try any harder. She just wants to keep him happy. In a way, I believe she is afraid of him. And woe is her for letting him know that, he will ALWAYS push it with him!

I have about 200 errands and phone calls to make today and I will be lucky to get to ten. I have a ton of appointments to confirm or make, people to call to follow-up on paperwork, paperwork to fill out, copies to make and mail to the appropriate people, a meeting to attend to fill out more paperwork, an appointment to take Bugaboo to, etc, etc. Fridays are soooooooo crazy. We almost always order out because the after-care kids do not leave until 6:30. Darling wonders why I crash on the couch at eight o'clock Fridays. Hmmmm...I wonder

Time to get #2 on the bus. He has announced he will no longer go to school on Fridays. Fridays are not good and he won't go. Do you think that since Daddy has been working from home on Fridays it has ANYTHING to do with it?

You don't even have to like potatoes to be my friend

2007-02-07T15:34:00.000-05:00

I am thinking of posting a disclaimer at the top of all of my rambling thoughts. I have had more than one person tell me that they were confused or felt sensitive to the things that I am rambling on about. If that is the case, I want to tell you right now, before I post another word, that I am truly sorry that I made anyone feel uncomfortable in anyway. I do not feel I should censor what I write about, especially since it is obvious that I will not win journalism awards due to the fact that I do not proofread, I do not spell check and I rarely use appropriate punctuation. My mother is an English Professor and I am too lazy to write like a grown-up. I guess what I am trying to say:

If you are reading this and you do not agree with what I have written or you are offended or hate me for writing it, or if I wrote something and you think I am writing it directly to you, please do not avoid talking to me about it. Please take it with a grain of salt, so to speak.

You see, this here blog is just a collection of the ramblings of a madwoman. Mad Momma, really. I blog because I tend on the side of ADHD (as does most of my family) and we have more energy than a person should have naturally. If I don't blog or talk out EVERY LITTLE DETAIL running around in my head then it all gets stuck up there in the thirteenth brain cell, lost forever in a kind of limbo, never to come out again. When I am falling asleep at night the last thing I need to be thinking about is who I sat next to in ninth period English class or what type of cologne what's-his-name wore at the Valentine's Dance. I do not need to remember the way the previous owner's furniture in our PREVIOUS home was arranged, since it does not matter a hill of beans to me at this point in time. I most certainly have better things to be considering. Oh, I don't know, perhaps making doctor's appointments or filling out the endless piles of paperwork that goes along with having a special-needs child and children with IEPs?

I guess what I am trying to say is this: To all five or six of you that read this blog, please do not ever assume that I am speaking directly to you. If I am speaking to you I'll say, "Hey! SO-AND-SO! This means YOU!" I mean, I have never in my life been accused of being reticent. Let's just say I have the opposite problem (diarrhea of the mouth, I am told it is called). The other thing I do not want you to do is read what I have to say and start questioning your own decisions and your own lifestyles. I do not want you to say, "Hey! She's Catholic! She shouldn't say things like that!" or, "OMG! I cannot believe she likes Potatoes! THE NERVE!" because, you know (I cannot believe I am going to say this! Ok, here it goes...), You do NOT have to like potatoes to be my friend.

This is what I love about my friends:

The come from all walks of life
They vary in age
They vary in racial background
They vary in religious upbringing and practice
They have kids
They don't have kids
They like sushi and I don't
I like Star Trek and they still love me

So you see, just because I have an opinion about something and it differs from what you think, please do not think ill of me. Please do not be intimidated when I "get Irish" or spout off on my soapbox. Please do not think that because I make a parenting decision that it is a decision that you should make for YOUR family. All families run in their own way.

I love y'all!

Genetics

2007-02-07T08:23:00.000-05:00

For those of you who need to know, I am recovering from the recent stomach flu, I still cannot eat and have bad stomach cramps. I am also wiped out physically and want to stay in bed all day. The boys have a TWO HOUR DELAY! ACK! HELP ME!!! Ok, it is out of my system. I will survive...

Yesterday we saw the Genetics doctor who specializes in metabolic disorders. She took one look at Bug Boy (his hair, his mole, his stature, his hand and foot shape) and had plenty to say. There are some things they are going to look at, due to a number of physical genetic flags, but the gist is that they still really do not know for sure. The boys most likely have a metabolic disorder that involves how they metabolize and store (or lack thereof) certain things. They have the most trouble with sugars and fats, lactose and fructose being two of the culprits.

This is not typically a fatal thing. There are types of these disorders that children do not survive due to failure to thrive and genetic defects. Bugaboo and Bug Boy have always been 75% and up for weight. This is clearly not their issue. But they do have a tendency to break down fatty acids and sugars and instead of storing them, they float around and end up being soaked into places they should not. Like their brains and muscles, who have no use for them but cannot get rid of them. Therefore, the boys have side effects: muscles cramping (too much lactic acid); headaches and seizures (from storage of things that do not belong in the brain); frequent urination and constant thirst (from the blood sugar imbalance, most likely hypoglycemia); problems regulating body temperature and profuse sweating (and the body odor and pimples, yes pimples! That go along with it.). The biggest thing is that Bug Boy (and now Bugaboo is developing it) is the muscle cramping. My kids cannot tolerate exercise. It may be why their weight is 50-75% but they are still healthy. The doc feels that they'd be horribly skinny if they didn't have the intolerance problem. Basically the boys muscles will cramp up after 1/2 a block of walking or riding on a flat surface. They simply cannot continue. It hurts! This is NOT normal for a little boy.

Long term the prognosis is good. The good news is that they are catching these things earlier, as they typically do not manifest until preteen to teenage years and beyond. By then the majority of the treatments are no good and they go on to develop kidney and liver problems, hypoglycemia and diabetes, hypertension and heart muscle problems, the list goes on. With the boys being so young there is much they can do. Some treatment may involve a monthly IV treatment, similar to what they do for rheumatoid arthritis. Some treatments use medications, although the boys most likely will not respond.

The doctor knows Bug Boy has this. She is not sure about Bugaboo because he is nonverbal and cannot relate some of the symptoms. At the moment we are assuming he has it and are proceeding with the tests to diagnose it. Since it is usually developed when children are older, it is possible that he will develop it full-blown by the time he is high school age.

The perplexing thing is that children with these conditions, while they develop delays due to illness, RARELY, if ever, have autism at the same time. This is not the first doctor who has told me that they do not believe that Bugaboo has autism. Just about every specialist has. But I am convinced he does. Am I a bad mommy for thinking that? I mean, I believe that the name doesn't matter as much as the therapy. But the name is necessary right now in order to get the therapy. The therapy is helping. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. We see the Developmental pediatrician again in March. We shall see. She already thinks that ADHD combined with a developmental delay due to chronic ear infections and sensory disorder is his main problem. He just exhibits these other tendencies. She also thinks he has aphasia, an inability to get your brain and mouth to coordinate in order to talk. But if that were true, they feel he'd be able to sign! He hasn't shown much interest in learning.

The best part of all of this? Late talkers and similar developmental delays run in the family on both sides. The genetic disorder could be passed on through the mother so there is a very good chance that some of my nephews (one in particular) has it. The metabolic issue is most certainly from Darling, or he has it and I am a carrier. The doctor showed me the nifty chart she made explaining my family tree and who has what, and where things most likely come from. Rather fascinating, this genetics stuff.

What have I been up to?

2007-02-05T11:31:00.000-05:00

I am sorry for being so lame and not posting for a few days. There have been some difficulties since Thursday...

Friday started like any ordinary day. The kids woke up, Darling slept a little late since he was working from home. Bug Boy announced he had to watch the news due to the fact that the groundhog is supposed to be on. I glanced at the clock and we were five minutes past the time for the groundhog broadcast (good ole PCN had it on). Bug Boy started whining and complaining so I did the next best thing. I found the feed on the Internet (Punxatawnyphil.com) and we watched it.
The stinking thing takes ten minutes. They read some goofy proclamation and then knock on the burrow, create a bit of suspense and with pageantry and flair they remove the poor creature from the burrow, thousands of lights flashing. They hold him up high for the whole crowd (of 15,000) to see and then place him on top of the burrow, where the groundhog committee pretends to decide if the poor thing has seen his shadow or not. Then a new proclamation is read. In 2007 there is no shadow. Winter is short this year.

The most disturbing wail escaped Bug Boy's lips. He carried on, totally distraught, for over an hour. He missed his bus and I had to call him out sick. He was so emotional over this I considered calling his therapist. Combine that with the fact that he hadn't had a bowel movement in two days and the fact that he was having muscle cramping issues that day (part of the metabolic issues) and there you have it folks, a recipe for disaster. I spent the rest of the day trying to be emotional supportive and attentive so that he would function.

Saturday Bug Boy ended up being invited for a playdate with his best buddy down the street. It is the first time he played at T's house. His parents are very nice but are having a difficult time accepting the fact that T has been diagnosed with some learning difficulties. T was born at thirty weeks and had a very rough start, staying in the hospital well after his due date. He repeated kindergarten this year and is a year older but is barely getting by. At first his parents thought he was picking things up at school and didn't want him in the support classroom. This year they finally figured out that what all of the teachers and such were saying is right. Their son has needs that must be addressed. They are working on finding the best solutions for T and are working on what they want in his IEP right now. One of the moms dropped off her son at T's house and asked his mother tons of nosey questions. The one that got T's mom's goat was, "Do these other kids have Learning disabilities? My son has NEVER played with a child like THAT before. We don't know anyone like THAT. I don't really allow him to be around children like THAT because I don't want him to act like THAT." Yeah, because you know, learning disabilities and autism are contagious. Gosh forbid your precious Johnny play with my kid, it might rub off.

I mean, THE NERVE!!! Can you believe that people are like that? She even had the audacity to state that too many people were moving to this district because of their kids' learning problems and she was sick of it. She even went as far as to say that she did not let her children play with those children. T's mom did not know what to say, she wasn't about to say, "Well, see that kid there? He is autistic, that one has PDD and my kid has ADHD. Be careful! He might CATCH it!!!" T's mom doesn't think they will do any more playdates together.

While Bug Boy was at the playdate, Bugaboo and I were at home. Darling had to go to work (yes, on Saturday). Bugaboo cried ALL DAY. I held him for TWELVE hours. We never did pinpoint what was bothering him, he was out of sorts and cried and was inconsolable. It was awful! I was so fried and miserable Darling took us out to dinner. The kids actually behaved for once. Of course, the restaurant was empty at a few minutes to five so that helped.

Sunday Bug Boy and I headed to church and then coffee hour afterwards. They do it once a month at our church. Afterwards we headed home to do some housework and clean up. Bugaboo's little buddy, A, was coming over for a visit. A's mom is a single mom and teaches full time. She needs help on the days A has off from school so I said I'd help out and keep him for her. He is an ADORABLE child, not yet four. Blonde Hair, Blue eyes, gorgeous smile. He LOVED the dog and spent most of his time kissing her and petting her. She LOVED IT, of course. You know, because we do not give her any attention at all. It was a nice afternoon! Bugaboo was still a little out of sorts. When they left we had homemade chicken veggie soup that Darling made (it simmered all afternoon, it smelled so yummy!) and then the game started. The kids went off to bed and we sat and watched and laughed at some of the commercials. Then we went to bed as soon as it was over.

Darling is on a trip for three days so my free time will be limited until Thursday. MIL is coming over to watch the kids so I can go to a parent support meeting this evening. It will be nice to get out ALONE at night!

Ok, gotta hit the gym. I have some energy to work off!

Thursday Thirteen

2007-02-01T08:58:00.000-05:00

13 Reasons I don't feel like doing a &$@^(* thing today...

I have cramps
I am spotting mid-cycle. Again.
I haven't gotten a period in four months
I am calling the OB/GYN to find out WTF is going on here.
DH was sleep-walking last night and I had to chase him to bed twice. At midnight and 3am. He heard a dog barking, went downstairs to "let Shadow in." She was sleeping on the bed with us. Then he checked to make sure the fireplace doors were shut because it might be dangerous to leave them open. We haven't had a fire in four days.
Bug Boy woke up at 5 singing. Or rather didn't wake up. He was sleeping and singing.
Bugaboo had to be put back into bed SIX TIMES last night. He laughed every time. I didn't find it so endearing after the third time.
The cramps are causing my lower back to THROB and my hips to ache. I am very active so this is making me nuts. All I want to do is park on the couch and flip channels.
The dog ate a chocolate chip granola bar. She ain't feeling so good this morning, y'all. We are going to the vet this morning.
I have to go BACK to the store because after I did my weekly shopping, two lists came home from schools and I need to send in a few things. That and we do not have Elmer's glue, for some odd reason. We only have glue sticks and it is difficult to glue 100 candy corns to a piece of cardboard for "100 day" when you only have glue sticks. And Hot glue melted the candy and didn't work, so you are starting all over again.
I made my daily phone calls this morning. Three appointments made or switched at duPont. I am still on the waiting list for Dermatology and I am annoyed. I told them as much when I called, the supervisor is calling me back at 9:30. I've been trying to get an appointment since last December. 2005. That mole needs to come OFF!
It is snowing, yet again. The kids need a good pile of it to play. I am sick of sweeping it off of the sidewalk. It is a very long sidewalk when you live on a corner!!!
I feel like I haven't been out to do something social in ages. I keep thinking of our date weekend for our anniversary in November. I missed the kids but it was SO NICE to get away and sleep in and eat when we wanted and do what we wanted. I think I need another day like that soon.

Sorry for the bad attitude. I am extremely hormonal.

I Love His Perception of Things...

2007-01-31T09:12:00.000-05:00

Bug Boy has an interesting idea. He'd like to go to first grade. NOW.

When we asked him last evening why he would like to go to first grade, NOW, he replied:

"Because you can buy lunch in first grade!"

DUH! We are supposed to KNOW that!

So this morning I asked him about it again. I said, "You know, they may not always have things for lunch that you will like to eat. Some days they might have red food. Some days it might be sandwiches. You probably will not buy lunch everyday in first grade."

He studied my face for a moment and calmly stated, "Well, they have chocolate popsicles everyday!"

Aha! Now we are getting to the bottom of it!

Just had to share

2007-01-30T08:40:00.000-05:00

Bug Boy was just putting on his coat and hat. The bus was due in five minutes and he was being rather pokey. He said, "Mom! I'll get my own coat and mint-ins." So of course I said, "Can you say mittens again?" And he said, "Mi-ins." So I said, "Try again! Mit-tins" And he looked at me, his head to the side, a naughty smile on his face and said, "GLOVES!"

Cheeky little monkey.

And Now For Something Completely Different

2007-01-30T08:08:00.000-05:00

Life has a funny way of working out sometimes. I've been thinking about getting back into tutoring at night, as a means to escape my mundane existence and to get back to doing something I cherish, and lo and behold the phone rings last night...it was a previous client.

I worked with the woman's son for seven years, from third until tenth grade, when he became too cool for a tutor. He is a junior this year and is doing quite well, pulling off a B average. For a child who got stomach pains and never wanted to go to school (due to a terrible learning disability) he is doing amazingly well. And he has also become a vegetarian and a political soapbox-stander-onner, so I am particularly proud. From working with him I managed to get five other children in his neighborhood. I was the town tutor, so to speak. When the boys were born, I kept it up on and off for about three years. When Ian started to have issues I cut back as much as I could. I ended up only working with the original student and then eventually stopped working with him when his live-in grandmother became terminally ill and the family needed to simplify things. By that time he did not need me as a confidence booster anymore.

This time they've called me to work with the boy's cousin. His mother has taken care of her everyday since she was a baby, as her parents are divorced and her father is a single parent. He runs his own machine shop and works ten to twelve hours a day. Couple that with the fact that the girl is now hitting puberty (and talking on the phone and IM'ing everyone for hours) and you can see why her average to above average grades have slipped to D's and F's. She actually REQUESTED that I come to work with her. I am flattered.

The problem is this: I do not know if it is logistically possible for me to do it. They want me one or two nights a week. Darling does not make it home until seven o'clock most nights. When I tutored before my sisters lived close by and would stay with my kids until Darling came home (since I kinda watched their kids all day, they stayed with mine). It worked out well, and Darling came home between five and six. Now we are talking about an hour later. And the kids go to bed between seven and eight, it takes BOTH of us to get that done. When I tutored in the past I'd walk in the door to a COMPLETE MESS because Darling cannot multitask (can men multitask?) and keep the house relatively neat while he was "watching the kids." (read: I was too busy channel surfing or looking up cars on the Internet and did not notice Bugaboo swinging from the dining room chandelier and taking out your china. I had no IDEA that while I was dozing off on the couch that Bug Boy would get out finger paints and paint himself and his brother. And the dog. And the floor.)

So, dear readers, all five of you! What should I do? I want to do this. It means I have to be showered and have my hair done every afternoon when they kids get home. It means I have to do lesson plans again (just an hour, it isn't so bad). It means I get OUT OF THE HOUSE!!!! It means I get to do something I like doing. It is less than 15 minutes to get there. It pays well. It means I will miss out on bedtime and bath time one or two nights a week, but it also means that Darling has to give meds to the kids, something he isn't quite comfy doing. I guess he can learn...

Labels

2007-01-29T10:17:00.000-05:00

la·bel (lā'bəl) Pronunciation Key
n.

An item used to identify something or someone, as a small piece of paper or cloth attached to an article to designate its origin, owner, contents, use, or destination.
A descriptive term; an epithet.

How do I feel about labels?

Labels can be useful. Labels can help you find things and help you obtain other things. I like labels. They make life a little easier occasionally.

The problem with labels is that when people see a label they automatically assume things. That the label is the ONLY thing the object or person is about. That the label means something entirely different. That the label inhibits or limits expectations in someway. I have a problem with these labels.

People are afraid of labels. They do not want the label to limit them. Once in a while they just do not want to know the truth about the label. These people would be happy living in a vacuum and never stepping outside of the box. They go the same place for vacation every year. Their hair is cut exactly the same way every six weeks. They do not want to wake up tomorrow and have things different in their lives. Status Quo.

The problem with this mindset is that sometimes people NEED the labels. Certain labels can get you certain things. Sometimes you need that label to get something really awesome for your kid. And so what? IT'S JUST A WORD! IT'S JUST A LABEL!!!! That word has nothing to do with your kid. It does not mean your child won't achieve, won't succeed. It does not mean your child is bad or horrible. It is not a dirty word, just a label. Just a descriptive. Something that others use to describe what they do not know. When there is nothing to tell you they use this word. When you have this word stamped on a piece of paper it is like a golden ticket, like passing GO and collecting the coveted $200.

It really hurts me that people I love do not see that. They think that the child is just developing at his own rate. That he will grow out of it because so-and-so did. That it is just a quirky part of his personality and LOOK HOW CUTE AND SMART HE IS!!! That it will just go away. Because he isn't half as severe as your son, because everyone uses your son as the guide of development. Their son isn't THAT WORD because the talk, see? And they aren't toilet trained but he tells you when he is wet or has an accident, even if he is five and supposedly starting kindergarten in September. That he has some other more desirable disability, because even though these disorders are all related and have similar issues, the "one my kid might have is WAY better than what your kid has". I mean, because Asperger's is WAY better than Autism. ADD is WAY better than autism. Developmental Delays are WAY better than Autism. Because Autism means your kid is not worth as much. He needs pity. He needs people to feel sorry for him. To excuse his behavior. To allow him to get away with murder because it is just so sad that he doesn't understand. And why try to make him work for something or ask for it? He just doesn't understand. Poor, Poor little boy. He'll always be like this so we have to enable him. But "not my kid." "My kid" will be fine. "My kid talks, He's doing well, it will go away, he's growing out of it..". No need to see a developmental ped. No need to go to a Neuro. "I don't need answers because my head is up my arse."

Don't be afraid of the label. It is not about you. It is about your child. What does the child need? The heck with what you and your husband think! All that matters is that your child gets what he needs.

The Things I Do For Family

2007-01-25T09:47:00.000-05:00

My sisters and I are very close. We do many things for one another, from childcare to parties to shopping, you name it. My youngest sister, who is "Po'," as she puts it, has lived in Iowa the past few years but has recently moved back to the East Coast and currently resides in Virgina. They are now only three hours or so away, and we are happy to see them MUCH more often.

This weekend they plan on heading north for their Son's fifth birthday (who's day was yesterday and I forgot to call!). My mother, who overdoes and enables out the waaazoooo, has decided that since we've never gotten to celebrate BJ's bday (I kid you not, it is BJ!) that the whole family has to drop what they are doing, last minute, and appear at this party. Now, I'd do it anyway, as it is my sister and I love her and I would love to celebrate his birthday for the first time, but my mother drives everyone nuts.

She has this little annoying habit of favoring certain children over others, certain grandchildren over others, etc. She has not been to see my kids in months and they live two tiny towns over. They rarely call so I have to call them with updates. She says what she has to say (like she is reading it off of a list) and then says, "Ok! I've got to go! Bye!" and ends the conversation. A bit of background: My mother has been struggling (and mis-diagnosed) with depression and anxiety for YEARS as a result of a horrible and traumatic childhood experience. She is also bi-polar. She goes up and down more than a roller coaster. I love her but she often refuses to get help and quits therapy CONSTANTLY. She also has given up on herself, does not eat, has medical issues she refuses to acknowledge or take care of and smokes about three packs a day. I kid you not. I cannot be around her long because I get sad and because she wears about a bottle-and-a-half of Estee Lauder each morning. You can imagine how my overly-sensitive little boys enjoy this smell (coupled with urine smell from her horrible little animals and the smoke, it is nauseating!).

So, last week, when I threw a surprise fortieth for my eldest sibling mother approached me and asked me (in a round -about way) if I'd host BJ's party. I agreed, because her house is smaller than my bathroom and I cannot figure out how seven children survived in that house. We dread going to her house for anything. It smells, it is beyond cluttered, it is cramped and loud. My kids HATE it, except for the train platform my father has in the living room. Yes, the living room. On a piece of plywood on top of a desk. When my mother kinda hinted that she wishes she could have it somewhere else, I gave in and told her it was fine to have it here, but I need to talk to Darling first. So what does she do? She makes an announcement to the WHOLE PARTY right then and there, before I could walk across the room and tell Darling! He was furious! I talked to him about it later and said it was better than going to THEIR house and he agreed and dropped it.

Fast forward a few hours and I talked to my sister in VA (who did not make it to the 40th) and she thanked me for the party. She asked if I'd watch her kids this Friday (tomorrow) so she could go to Jersey and get her husband so he could be at BJ's party. I agreed, and said, "Well, if you are leaving at four and it is a two hour drive, you won't get back until eight or later, and your kids will be tired, so why not just leave them here overnight and pick them up in the morning?" I cannot believe that came out of my mouth. She was so overjoyed at the prospect of sleeping the whole night without kids that I couldn't retract it. So I did the next best thing, I conned my older sister into helping me that night instead! So, I will have Bugaboo and Bug Boy, BJ (who is Bugaboo in behavior but talks more than Bug Boy - autistic without a diagnosis, poor kid) and BJ's little brother, eighteen-month-old E. Yup, I am crazy. Darling will be SOOOOOO happy about it.

My younger sister still cannot believe I am willing to do this. I know it has been very hard on her, she is in and out of work, her paycheck barely covers childcare, they are on and off of public assistance. They work so hard and get nowhere. She hasn't ever been away from her children. I know how it feels to need a break from them and my sisters help me out whenever I ask them. There is no one else I trust but them. So I am doing this for her because I know she needs me to and because that is what we do for each other. Even though her son drives me NUTS because she is denial about the necessity of intervention, he is a sweet little boy. He just needs constant monitoring! Or he might pee on the dog or paint her with grape robitussin.

More Guilty Pleasures

2007-01-24T10:44:00.000-05:00

Honestly, I barely watch television. It is not on all day, the kids are not permitted to watch it on weekdays (unless they are sick, Bugaboo watched his Chicka-Chicka-Boom-Boom video about thirty times!). Regardless, Bug Boy wakes up each morning, stumbles into our room and asks, with bleary eyes, if he can turn it on. I remind him of the rules, he pouts and then goes about his morning routine.

The past two weeks I have been exhausted. Instead of finishing housework or getting ready for the next day I have been procrastinating. I sit on the couch once they are asleep and I cannot move. It does not help that I have had the fireplace quite active the past few days. Ahhhh! Nothing more relaxing than snuggling on the couch with your honey with the fire roaring. And being in control of the clicker because there is no Survivor and no football. 24 has started again, boohoo!

So, my lastest guilty pleasure is a show I am ashamed to admit I have started watching. For some reason I have been watching marathons of "The Girls Next Door" which is the reality show about Hugh Hefner and the girlfriends at the Playboy Mansion. Don't ask me what the draw is. Perhaps it is the abundance of silly bleach blondes with perfectly perky (and oversized, darn plastic surgeons!) boobs and their artful manipulation skills. I am awed by the fact that they have fifty dogs running around that mansion, that there are about seventy people that work there, that Hef runs around in his Pajamas all day and that the girls all take college courses, have lives on the side and think they have the best life imaginable. Oh to be twenty-five, pre-child, blonde and big-busted!

Naahhhh. My home is my castle. I don't need no stinkin' mansion! I have the best here. So why am I drawn to this nonsense?

The only thing I can think of is escape. I have not had the brain-power to read a book lately. The fantasy that I used to escape to in between the pages of a good book have temporarily been replaced with bad reality tv. I love makeover shows, surgery shows, episodes about large families, those side-show type of shows and Dr. 90210. Do not ask me where it comes from. Everything in me says, "This is drivel! This is nonsense! Television at the worst, there IS a reason they call it the idiot box!" And while I can stand on my soapbox and rattle off exactly how I feel about television and the evils it projects, at the same time I currently regard it as my escape from real life. If I cannot concentrate enough to lift a pencil and complete a crossword puzzle I might as well watch something completely useless.

I just need my brain to soften once in a while. I spend the majority of the day thinking about important things and worrying about Bugaboo's future. I am constantly making appointments, reading about treatments, deciding on options. I am fried like an egg by the time they go to bed and have nothing left to give. I guess it is fair to say that I cannot fall asleep until the wheels in my head stop turning and I can just be blank up there. Now, my brain NEVER stops! It does, however, take a little break and kinda get sidetracked when I watch television. I enjoy that little break.

I have kept the television off today. Bugaboo will not watch videos (but he will tear the house up, one room at a time) and I will not sit at this computer, aimlessly surfing because I am beyond bored. Instead I have rebooted my laundry, cleaned the stack of dishes from two days ago, made beds, picked up a few rooms. I plan on returning three phone calls, picking up a few more rooms and doing some decluttering. I am well on my way. My brain is in a happy place today!

ACK!!!

2007-01-22T18:05:00.000-05:00

I had an entirely different post in my mind when I sat down to do this. Then the phone rang. Darling informed me of his latest routine blood work and his cholesterol was...

207!!!!!

Yes, I know there is good and bad cholesterol. Yes, I know the difference. And no, this is not the same thing, because apparently his problem is the "bad" cholesterol. Perhaps the fact that he has not been at the gym more than once a week in six months and the fact that he has gained fifteen pounds in a year has something to do with it, too. My Darling, at a mere Sixty-Six inches tall (on a good day with shoes on) currently weighs in at One hundred eighty-five pounds. That's a BMI of about 31.

(Don't worry, I told him I blog everything.)

Couple that with the fact that EVERYONE in his family (mother, father, sister, brother, uncle and grandmother, all of his living, direct relatives) has cholesterol over 200. His maternal grandfather died of heart disease at the ripe old age of fifty. His grandmother has had several heart attacks and has had angioplasty. His father takes medications to keep his cholesterol down. Not stuff I really want to think about. He is THIRTY-FIVE, gals. He is setting himself up for an early death, and I have NO DESIRE to be a widow at forty.

Wanna know what mine was this past fall?

95.

Yes, you read that correctly. Obnoxiously low. Wanna know why? Because I exercise, eat very little meat (but tons of eggs, go figure), plenty of whole grains and veggies and keep my weight and diet in control. The doc says she is impressed. So why is Darling's so out of whack? He eats what I do, at least when he is home. He is quite sedentary in his job, working at a desk all day and sitting in meetings. Then there are the lunch meetings where they provide a meal, which is usually pizza or some kind of disgusting, mayonnaise-heavy salad. He says he doesn't eat that much of it. I typically provide a healthy dinner with salad four to five nights a week (plus a vegetable), whole grains or potatoes (which he dumps butter on) and a lean protein, such as beans or chicken. Where is this coming from? Cheese? We ARE dairy addicts, after all. In moderation dairy is fine. I wonder how much he is consuming when I go to bed? I know for a fact that he is a late-night snacker.

Here's a little government fact sheet.

Okey-dokey, I am calming down now. I promise not to get on his case too much when he walks in the door. He has already told me he is not eating the beeferoni I prepared for dinner. BUT C'MON PEOPLE! 207!!!!

Ok, that felt better. Getting it out of my system. I am going to try not to worry. Tonight for dinner he is getting steamed chicken, brown rice and salad. His breakfast is going to be oatmeal.

Cholesterol, Schmolesterol!

I've been awake since FIVE AM!!!!

2007-01-19T09:08:00.000-05:00

No worries about getting up on time this morning, Bug Boy was kind enough to wake up at five. He has had a wicked bout of ear infections the past week and was in tremendous pain. Last night when we tucked him in we found him sound asleep, on the floor, in his underwear, snoring away. He also had a blanket wrapped around the heater in his room (hmmmm, he was hot?).

Bug Boy has not had an ear infection in about four months. Before that it was eight months. So, two in one year was not too shabby, considering this poor child has had three sets of ear tubes and one operation to correct scarring on his ear drum. Bugaboo has also had three sets so far. I expected that Bug Boy was growing out of them, but now if he gets one more they will refer me back to the ENT.

The main culprits with the boys are allergies and anatomy. There really is nothing I can do about their anatomy and we have little control over their allergies. Neither boy can be on allergy medication because of the fear it will make them too drowsy or interact with the seizure medications. We just tough it out, use saline and hope for the best. Because of the unseasonably warm temperatures we have had their poor little noses have been suffering. I think Bug Boy's nasal passages have just decided they have had enough and are currently exiling the inflammation and fluid to the ear canals.

He woke up with so much pain this morning (still in his undies) and climbed in with us while I massaged his ears and sinuses. He has not cuddled with me in MONTHS, so despite the fact that I was bleary-eyed and wishing he would doze off, I cherished the moment we had. His little (BIG!) feet tucked in between my knees, his little hand holding mine and his head tucked into the space between my head and my shoulder. I have never felt so close to him! My boys just are not the huggy-kissy-snuggly-type. They like their space. It makes it that much sweeter when they want to be cuddled or held.

I imagine Bugaboo will be ill some time this weekend. I am amazed that he has only had a handful of colds so far this season but I am bracing myself for the onslaught of viruses. He generally gets one this time of year and it lasts for months, due to his immune system difficulties. I have been pumping him full of vitamins and protein in an attempt to perk him up and hopefully make him stronger. Let's just say the kids like Bugaboo do not have the most stellar hygiene skills!

Bug Boy must be feeling better. He has retreated to the basement and Darling and I have been able to hear him talking NON-STOP for the past hour. To himself. Or the cars, I do not know which...

My Water Smells Like Bleach

2007-01-18T10:48:00.000-05:00

I have a funky, sensitive sense of smell. I can smell things a mile away. I can smell the rain before it hits. I can tell what DH had for lunch when he walks in the door.

When I was pregnant, I found that my heightened sense of smell became more, well, heightened. Add to that a fabulous gag reflex (from which I have yet to recover) and it made for an interesting pregnancy both times. I would get sick cleaning up Shadow's piles in the yard or going by a fast-food restaurant. The smell of cooked food in my house (especially meat, blame that on my former vegetarianism!) makes me irritable. I do not like my hair picking up the scent of french fries or coffee from quicky places, I have to go home and wash my hair immediately. I cannot explain it.

I cannot stand to smell other people's perfumes, soaps or (yes, I can smell this) makeup. My sister-in-law is the queen of beauty products and I can smell when she has had her nails done recently. She (and my brother) wear TONS of cologne and perfume. They are constantly burning candles in their home and it is all I can do to not run screaming from their house. I usually leave there with a headache.

For some time I have been trying to imagine what it is like for my children. Their sensory issues sometimes get in the way of "normal" functioning. If the announcements in Tarzhay are too loud, they clap their hands over their ears. My favorite Goodwill store has an issue with their radio so it sounds staticky and distorted (not to mention the fact that they play it way too loud) and the boys scream when we go there. They need all tags removed from their clothing, do not like socks with any words stitched in the bottom (good luck finding 'em without the stitching!) and prefer 100% cotton. It makes life fun shopping for them! No wool, no polyester, nothing. Just cotton. The sound of a garbage truck sends them into a tizzy. When our neighbors had trees removed a few months ago I had to keep our windows closed and the air on for a week in seventy-degree weather. They just could not stand the noise.

I have no idea if they have inherited my sense of smell. Bug Boy seems to noticed things the way I do and Bugaboo will not go near my mother, who wears at least a bottle of old-lady-Estee-Lauder each time I see her. Mix that with the cigarette smoke and you have one interesting waft of aromas as she enters my humble abode. If I cannot stand it I cannot imagine how the boys feel. They seem to react the way I feel, except that I am an adult and have sort of figured out how to keep it in. I do recall that as a child I did not like smells or loud noises and still do not.

Darling is not much better. He is the 100%-cotton-no-tags-in-clothing-passer-onner-of-those-genes. He also does not like touching sand paper or emery boards and the sound of a ceramic cookie jar opening causes him pain. He likes back rubs and hot baths but does not like restrictive clothing or seat belts (although I insist he wears one). He likes the massaging reclining chair we have and I loathe it. One kid likes it (Bugaboo) the other prefers not to have it on when he is in the house (Bug Boy).

I suppose that my point (if there is one) is that the apples really do not fall too far from these trees. All of the issues that make our day-to-day life challenging are not far from their original source. While some of their issues are pervasive, many of them are somewhat typical. I guess their reactions to these stimuli are what set them apart from other children. I cannot blame their delays on what irks them since I would not consider Darling and I delayed and we have the same issues. However, depending on whom you converse with, Darling and I did have delays. Not cognitive, as we were both identified as "gifted" (whatever!) but I recognize now that Darling's late talking, my social awkwardness and lack of friends, his lack of socializing, and our sensory issues could indicate that we were just like our children. It does run in families.

You know something? I think we both turned out fine. It may have been more difficult for us to do things like our peers (like, fine and gross motor skills) but we turned out fine! Our boys will be short and probably will not be star athletes. They are obsessed with technology and computers (go figure!). They like cars and music to the point of perseveration. Is that such a bad thing? OK, my kids are different. But so are we! So who am I to say that they should be "more like their peers." Is it not OK to be individuals?

The next time Bug Boy needs a tag cut out or claps his hands over his ears, I am just going to remember that it isn't weird behavior, he is just being himself! And that is alright by me!

Random Thoughts from Marj

2007-01-17T08:04:00.000-05:00

I am dreading potty training Bugaboo. He knows when he goes and he knows when he is about to go but has no desire to sit on a potty. The lack of communication does not help. They are working on it at school but I am prepared for a loooooonnnnggggg effort.

Bug Boy is sick. He has not spoken more than a few words in four days. That is usually how we know he is sick, this boy literally sounds like Rain Man. The nice thing about it is that today will be unusually quiet for me!

How is it that dogs have that uncanny knack for sniffing your privates and knowing (before you do) when Aunt Flo will come for a visit? Shadow is also adept at sniffing out ear infections from the boys before I know they even have them!

I only had to nuke my tea twice today. That is a sign that we will have a good day!

My sister's fortieth (not Dino Boy's mom) was this past weekend. She does not look forty. She looks darn good, even if she thinks she doesn't. I hope I look like her at forty!

My mother-in-law turns sixty next month on Valentine's Day. She has requested one of my favorite dinners that night. Pork, Sauerkraut, mashed potatoes and fried apples! YUMMY!

When we bought our last vehicle (a used Honda) I imposed a moratorium on car buying. My husband is a car guy and wants one about once a year. I kid you not. He has owned seventeen cars in seventeen years, although to be fair I must tell you that we have had two cars since we got married. So I am responsible for four or five of them. But we currently have three vehicles. I managed to hold him off for nearly two years. The past few weeks we have car shopped every spare moment, including Christmas weekend. I just wish he'd make up his mind.

I have recently come to terms with the fact that I am not depressed. I have been treated for it for the past ten years, on and off. The meds and counseling have not helped. It finally dawned on me that they are treating me for the wrong condition, and other people (one of my sisters) have been right about what is bothering me for most of my life. My doctor agrees but I am not ready to start medication yet. See if you can guess what she thinks:

Poor attention; excessive distractibility
Physical restlessness or hyperactivity
Excessive impulsivity; saying or doing things without thinking
Excessive and chronic procrastination
Difficulty getting started on tasks
Difficulty completing tasks
Frequently losing things
Poor organization, planning, and time management skills
Excessive forgetfulness

Hmmmm....

Brrrr!!!! It is cold out there! You know it is cold when the dog does not want to go out there.

If Bugaboo did not have autism I feel like I would not know him as well as I do. In a way I feel like I have been given a gift with him. I have to work twice as hard with him as I do with Bug Boy so I learn so much more about every little detail. Sometimes he is so interactive and engaging. He even leans over to receive his kiss each evening before bed. I look forward to that every day!

I should get in the shower right now and just cannot bring myself to do it. I hate getting wet. Hate. It. With. A. Passion. Totally. With a capital T that rhymes with P and stands for "Poole." (If you don't know where that came from, watch the Music Man. Or don't, it isn't that good.)

Have a nice day.

Jersey Girl vs. Jersey Girl

2007-01-16T08:03:00.000-05:00

Since I have absolutely nothing better to do with my time, I have decided that I MUST review the Jersey Girls. Yes, they have the same name. They were released about twelve years apart (and it shows). Without further ado, here are the Jersey Girls:

Jersey Girl (1992) : This little stereotypical gem starred a young a sassy Jami Gertz (Still Standing, Teen movie and show star, also was in Twister and played Gilda Radner in a TV movie), and Dylan McDermott (pre-Practice days, long before Steel Magnolias) in a movie that seems like it was made for tv. Toby (Gertz) is a Jersey Girl who is fed up with her lifestyle and is trying to break out of it. She thinks that the only way she can better herself is to find the right guy and goes to great lengths to find someone from the other side of the river, Manhattan. She meets Sal (McDermott) by going to a Mercedes dealership and hanging around and then pursues him without pause. He finally relents, takes her out a few times and they fall in love. Except that Sal used to be from Jersey and worked very hard to get out of there. He has no intentions of going back to that life now that he is a yuppie, being groomed by this total jerk-of-a-boss that reminds him that girls like Toby are to be used and thrown away. Sal has to decide that he will let his feelings for Toby prevail and not be sucked into the lifestyle of his co-workers. Toby is under pressure from her father and her friends, who are jealous that she doesn't hang out with them at all hours of the day anymore. They accuse her of being a snob and wanting to dump them and do NOT like Sal. When Toby and Sal "break-up" Toby tells it like it is and tells him he likes his fancy car more than her. He proves to her (in perhaps the lamest romantic Hollywood ending) that he loves her more by totally trashing a brand-new Mercedes outside of her workplace, a daycare. And all the kids watch him run his car into a fire hydrant, kick out the headlights and scratch the car up with a key. Only in Jersey.
Rating: I give this three out of five stars. It is cute, kinda Cinderella-like. It is terribly predictable and funny in a gotta-laugh-at-the-Jersey-accents-and-big-hair kinda way. When it is on a free movie channel, I find myself unable to escape it and get sucked into watching.

Jersey Girl (2004): I know, I know, the critics hated it. They were basing their opinions on the fact that Kevin Smith (who wrote and directed it) usually produces gross-out, foul language, young adult comedies with really far-fetched plots. The guy that brought us Clerks, Mallrats and Dogma tucks Jay and Silent Bob away for a few hours to bring us a romantic comedy with a different twist. Ben Affleck is Ollie Trinke, a guy from (you guessed it!) Jersey who prefers to stay in Manhattan. He meets Gertrude (Jennifer Lopez) and falls in love. When Gertrude dies in childbirth he thinks he can raise their baby on his own, leaving the child with his father (George Carlin) most of the time and spending no time with the baby (Gertie, adorable Raquel Castro). Dad gives him a wake-up call and refuses to watch the baby on the day of an important press conference, and Ollie messes up, loses his job and subsequently gets black-listed in the music PR business. Fast forward a few years, Gertie (now seven) and Ollie live with Mr. Trinke in Jersey and Ollie works with Pop for the township sanitation department. He is stuck in a rut, never dates and rents adult films to satisfy his cravings. At the video store he meets Maya (Liv Tyler), a grad student doing a paper and asks to study Ollie and his video choices. He declines, she persists, he finally relents. Guess what? They kinda fall in love, but he is not over his dead wife. The past seven years he has tried very hard to get back into the PR business, but everyone remembers his little "Will Smith" situation and won't hire him. When an old friend finally gets him the interview(and possibly, a job) of his dreams, he has to decide if he wants to stay in his life in Jersey where he can be "the best father in the world" or move to New York and tear his daughter away from the only life she has ever known. He basically find out that life is what happens when you are busy making other plans.
Rating: I loved this movie. I give it four out of five stars. Some of it was a little hokey and over-acted, but everyone in this film (and it was loaded with star potential) was great. Little Gertie steals the show. I LOVE the Sweeney Todd portion of the film, it is a SCREAM.

Don't forget, I come from a family of movie buffs. We've seen just about everything and can quote all the good flicks, especially Monty Python. And Sci-Fi stuff. And the Princess Bride...

Just had to share

2007-01-15T12:57:00.000-05:00

I was upstairs folding for baskets of laundry this morning (stripped all beds this weekend plus our daily laundry pile, two days that I did not put away!). Suddenly I heard this blood-curdling scream:

"MoooooooooooooooooommmmmmM!!!!! Moooooooooommmmmmmm!!!!!! MOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!"

I dropped what I was doing, ran as fast as I could down the stairs, expecting Bug Boy to be pinned under something heavy or hurt, by the terrified sound of his voice. As I nearly wiped out on the kitchen linoleum, I glanced around the Family Room and called him, "Bug Boy!! Where are you?" I did not see him.

He was behind the sofa, in his "clubhouse" playing with his Leapster. He looked up at me and asked, rather innocently, "Mom? Is seventy-five and seventy-five equal to one hundred fifty?"

He looked at me and waited for my reply. Through clenched teeth I told him, "Yes, it is. And next time you need mommy, please do not scream like that. If you need me (unless you are in trouble or hurt, please use a quieter voice and come to find me. Do not sit down here screaming. Do you understand?"

He nodded and went back to his game.

Grrrr....

Days off

2007-01-15T09:24:00.000-05:00

I love that term. A day off. For whom, may I ask?

Every time a government holiday rolls around I cringe at the thought of it. On weekends I at least have some back-up, Darling takes the boys for rides to the store, plays golf, pulls them in the wagon and hangs out in the garage while they sit on the tractor and in the jeep.

Today I fly solo.

How horrible is it that I dread these days? One would think that I would look forward to these days and the chance to spend all of my time with my sons, whom I love with every ounce of my soul. The truth is, as much as the idea of a whole day with my children makes me happier than I can explain, the harsh truth is that on a day like today, no matter how much I plan and how scheduled I attempt to make it, they come crashing down by about lunch time.

They are pleasant and calm, lounging in their pajamas and playing with their favorite toys. But they have done this all weekend so the novelty quickly wears off. Then we read books, listen to music, get out the special "rainy day" activities that I keep hidden for special days like this. It lasts for a little while. We go into the basement and make forts. We rough-house. The do sensory therapy and roll on the exercise balls. We set up giant tracks of trains and Bugaboo does his Godzilla impersonation and walks all over it. We play air hockey. We take a ride to the store and pick up a few necessities and some prescriptions. I keep them very busy.

By early afternoon the crying will start. The tantrums, the biting, the screaming. The meltdowns. Oh, the meltdowns. It will be all I can do to maintain my composure. This is usually when I try a video. After five or six hours there isn't much left, and I hate to use the television like that, but since they watch it about an hour a week I guess it isn't the worst I could do.

I make sure they have plenty of sleep and eat tons of protein. It helps. I make sure they are drinking plenty. That helps tremendously. But the routine is still disrupted. Why do I have to work so flipping hard on days off? When does my vacation day occur?

Now, I am not trying to be spoiled. They go to school and I have the place to myself from 9-3. Well, not really, I do have Little Miss here mornings until noon. So I have from noon until three to shower, clean, shop, workout, make appointments, return calls and make dinner. It never gets done. But at least I can turn on some music to soothe my brain.

I will make it through. I am trying to enjoy this day but they are already bored. They've eaten breakfast and are relatively calm. I cannot help but brace for myself for what surely will come later. Sorry to be a pessimist (totally not my nature) but when you have two kids with needs like mine, well, you learn to be prepared for the likely event of a major meltdown. ADHD and Autism do that to you.

Now, where is that cup of tea? Time to nuke it and FINISH it this time.

Scary is as Scary does, (or, why I wish this weekend was over already)

2007-01-13T17:16:00.000-05:00

It is Saturday afternoon and my weekend has already had more stress than I can handle. Want me to elaborate? You are in luck, I need to vent! This is very long, so if you don't have much time, come back later.

Last evening my MIL decided to take Bug Boy to see Charlotte's Web and Bugaboo's therapy was canceled. I went to the mechanic to pay for the jeep inspection and while there, decided to walk around with Bugaboo at the small shopping center across the street. There is a neat little gourmet grocery, a dollar store and a Goodwill there. I found a NEW coat for Bugaboo for next year ($5) and a few other small items. Since Bug Boy was eating dinner with MIL and Bugaboo doesn't really eat, I called Darling and told him I was stopping in town (S'more) to get Chinese at our favorite place.

It was dusk and getting darker by the minute. As I rounded to corner into the center of town I noticed that EVERYONE had the same idea. The only two parking spaces were on the far side of the bank. I slowed down to let someone pass and noticed and elderly gentleman on his knees in front of the Chinese place. Then he was on the ground. I quickly pulled over, parking illegally, and left Bugaboo locked in while I jumped out with my cell phone.

The poor wife of the elderly man was white as a ghost and could barely speak. She could not tell me what happened but I noticed blood on the concrete and guessed he hit his head. Then another woman walking by stopped to help (her two young children were hysterical when they saw the blood ) and said she was a doctor. She grabbed what she could to apply pressure to his gaping wound while I dialed 911. Then I talked to him and asked him a few questions, found out his name and tried to calm the doctor's children. She finally had to leave with the kids because they were so upset and it was up to me to control the situation. So I kept talking to him, holding his hand, assured him the ambulance was coming. I asked him what he had for dinner (he hadn't even gotten into the restaurant yet) and if he lost his footing (he said he was tipsy from too much to drink. He was kidding. And he was 90). I kept holding the napkins (the only thing we could grab) onto his head until the police and ambulance arrived. I talked to him and telling him it would be fine. Fifteen minutes had passed at this point and I told the policeman I was sorry I parked illegally and should i move the car? He chuckled and said it was fine. (He's my neighbor from a block away. Our boys are best buddies in the same class. Funny how things work out, eh?). Once they took my information I excused myself and went to get Bugaboo out of the car, realizing he was in there for a very long time and probably had no idea what I was doing! Poor kid! But since he was strapped into his five-point harness and locked in the car five feet away, I think he was safe.

Bugaboo and I went in to order our dinner and stepped outside in time for the paramedics to take the man into the ambulance and to the hospital. The entire time he insisted he was fine ! He had a two inch head laceration, a cut into his eye fold, a blown pupil and a possibly broken hand. Not fine. But he wanted his soup, so a friend that was supposed to meet the man and his wife for dinner was in the restaurant when I picked up my order. She tried to pay for my order, but I politely refused. "But you were so kind and helpful! I really appreciate it!" I just told her that I hoped someone would do the same for me and to please pass along my best wishes.

Darling and I decided that we would drive to a pre-owned car facility (Carsense, great place!) and look at a few cars this morning. After spending five hours there we were all STARVING and stopped at a nearby gourmet supermarket (the one where the rich people shop) because their market cafe is as good as a restaurant and we could all order what we wanted. Bugaboo passed out in the car so we had to carry him in sound asleep and put him on a couch in the lounge area so Darling stayed with him while I took Bug Boy to get his lunch. We made our way through the throngs of people (once again, everyone had the same idea!) and waited in line for several minutes longer than we should have. When we finally received our lunches we headed towards the register to wait in line yet again. I asked Bug Boy to pick out a drink (next to us in the refrigerated case) while I stood in line. Another cashier opened up and I said, "Bug Boy, follow me over here." He answered that he would, and I turned to get in line. I instantly turned back around to grab his hand and he was GONE!!!!!!

I called his name. No response. I yelled for him. No response. I SCREAMED his name and threw down my tray. He wasn't by the registers. He wasn't by the drink fridge. He was nowhere to be seen. Darling was only a few feet away and grabbed the sleeping Bugaboo and darted out to look for him. We ran up and down the food court as other people asked us what he was wearing, what did he look like, how tall was he, etc. I kept screaming his name the entire time. After nearly five minutes (and eternity) and after alerting the security guards, who were just about to put out a code ADAM (where they alert the police and lock the store down), Bug Boy came sauntering over. "Where did you go, guys?" He had wandered away to look at something in the split second that I walked to the register and disappeared behind a crowd of people and could not see us, so kept walking. As a child with PDD he had NO IDEA how dangerous it was (despite our constant warnings and the warning we gave him when we entered the store that it was very busy and he needed to stay with us!) and did not think that he was missing! And I am sure that everyone in that store thought I was nuts the way I was running around and screaming for him, crying the whole time. I tried not to panic, but once I saw him I just starting sobbing and pulled him close to me. His response was, "Owww! Mom! You are HURTING ME!!!"

The scary thing is that he would not be scared or apprehensive if someone attempted to take him. I really do not think he would scream. Bug Boy (and Bugaboo, to a much worse degree!) are so socially unaware that they are not afraid of strangers in the least. Bugaboo even goes up to people at the zoo and puts his arms up to be lifted up! For that reason we are even more cautious than we feel we need to be. We never, ever let them out of our sight. They NEVER go out of the room without us. We do not leave them outside by themselves EVER. We do not let Bug Boy go into a rest room alone. We cannot because our boys are the type of kids that could be victimized very easily. All it takes is one pedophile who recognizes that Bug Boy is wandering about the store solo. He'd only need to tell Bug Boy that we were looking for him, he'd show him where, and that would seal the deal. I shudder to think about it.

So you see, once we arrived back home this afternoon (sans new car) I completely crashed emotionally. I fell onto the couch and stayed there with a blanket pulled over my head for a long time. I only just got up to type this to try to put it all out of my head. I think a warm bath and a glass of wine are in order, about two hours from now when the boys go to bed!

Working from home

2007-01-11T22:31:00.000-05:00

Today Darling finally started working from home. You may recall that last week I was a tad apprehensive about how it would go. I thought he would drive me nuts and question what I was doing, watch me work, make comments etc. Except for the fact that he has to phone into meetings and tie up the phone line, it really wasn't so bad.

I couldn't vacuum, watch television or listen to music (I typically have music on for most of the day) but I did stick to my list and got plenty done around the house. The suitcases and tree made it back into storage, the laundry was rebooted and the rooms were rescued. Beds were made, hotspots were put out and dinner was planned. All in all a good day.

I have to say, the best part of his working from home was the fact that we were able to eat lunch together, in peace and quiet. We were also able to take a nap (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) during his lunch break. If every Thursday is like this one, I think I will like him working from home!

All that worrying for nothing. Sheesh.

I'm not blogging today

2007-01-11T08:31:00.000-05:00

I just thought I'd let y'all know...

You know, all five of you that read this blog (not true, I get about 20 hits a day, but only three or four people respond). I do not feel like coming up with anything witty or boring(per usual).

I have a head cold, a headache and a stuffed up nose. My throat is scratchy and I cannot get enough sleep the past two days. Today is my gym day and I ain't goin'. So there.

Have a nice day.

My Favorite Products

2007-01-10T08:05:00.000-05:00

I know you are all hanging on the edge of your seats, waiting to find out what beauty products (or lack there of) that I am using. I will let you in my my best-kept secrets and divulge that information, but first you must pinky-swear that you won't tell ANYONE. OK? Good. Here it goes:

Deodorant: I use two different products. Since I am one of those whacky chicks that does not believe in using aluminum-based antiperspirants and deodorants, I chose to use all-natural deodorant products instead. My two favs are herbal clear Naturally! Clear Aloe Fresh Deodorant and Spray Mist Naturally Fresh Deodorant Crystal. They rock. And I am a smelly chick, not that you needed to know that. They keep me fresh all day! I find them at CVS, Target, Martindale's and Trader Joe's. I do not pay as much as they show online. I used to use Tom's of Maine, they are nice, too.

Shampoo/Conditioner: My favorite shampoo, believe it or not, is the Suave knock-off version of their salon line. They work just as well as the salon shampoos and cost about a tenth of the salon version. I used to pledge allegiance to the united states of nexxus until I tried the knock-off, shortly after marrying Darling and being put on a tight budget in order to go back to college. I haven't been back since. It has been ten years! You can find them at Target, Walmart, you name it. They retail for under $2 each. My favorite is the Suave Sleek line, due to my naturally frizzy hair (didn't know I straightened it, did ya? See? It works!). When my hair is really frizzy or dry I use two deep conditioners. One is Queen Helene Cholesteral. That stuff is AMAZING but you MUST follow directions and you MUST rinse it very cleanly. Do not put too much in, you will look like you put mayo in your hair. Trust me on this one. I haven't done that but my sister has! My other favorite is this. Now, it is environmentally friendly and cruelty-free, so don't look at me like that! All can be found at Target, CVS, etc, $5 or under.

Facial products: I LOVE Queen Helene Mint Julep Mask. It shrinks those nasty pores I have developed in my old age and is like a cocktail for your face, really. Sana alcohol. I've used it for years, tried others in the interim and came back to this because there is no substitute! For facial cleansing I use good ole cetaphil in the shower and at night use the Aveeno soy-based line, including the facial scrub, daily clarifying moisturizer and facial toner. They don't dry out too much and don't aggravate my rosacea too much. The miracle of all miracle is made by Aveeno's sister company, Neutrogena (Darling works for Johnson and Johnson, they make Aveeno and Neutrogena!). I use their Radiance Boost Eye Cream and their Healthy Defense stuff isn't too shabby either. Wonderful stuff, that eye cream. Helps with the puffiness and wrinkles. CVS, Target, etc, all $5 or under.

Makeup: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I thought you just said makeup! Oh, that was funny! Oh stop, you are making my sides hurt! HAHAHAHA!!

Other Skin Care: For all-over body cleansing, I love Johnson's Softwash. It is a brand-new line of adult products that are made as gentle as the baby lines. I used to use baby body wash because I have sensitive skin but didn't appreciate smelling like a baby. Now I can smell like an adult! WOOHOO! Just kidding. But they do work well, my skin isn't itchy and flaky when I get out of the shower. Their lotions work well, too. Currently we all use Aveeno Oatmeal lotion because of the eczema running rampant in my home. Try Target, usually $5-6.

Dental: I love Arm & Hammer toothpaste. I tried Tom's of Maine but it tastes so lousy! I am a tea-drinking addict, and I use demerara sugar, so good toothpaste is a must. I hate dental floss but found these great Dentek floss picks that totally rock! We also use good ole Listerine. My latest awesome find is Crest White Strips. They really work!

Shaving: Last but not least, the shaving methods. Remember this post? Well, lately I've changed my methods. I still use the Nair/Neet for underarm and bikini area because it produces less bumps. I have recently gone back to shaving my legs with the best razor on the planet. FOr a few years I used the Gillette Mach III, not unlike my friend Anjali. I used it for maybe ten years before children were born and I became super lazy and experimented with hair removal products (hence the hair removal post of 2006). Gillette recently launched a brand-new razor that is the cousin of the Mach III, the Fusion. I like it even better than the Mach III, although it is much more expensive. Trust me, I've tried it all, including the supposed "lady razors" and nothing comes close to this. As for Shaving Cream, I prefer Aveeno. Ahhhh...

Feminine supplies: I've ranted plenty of times about how much I hate tampons and pads. I'd rather wear a diaper. I may get that chance in about thirty years (my mother has had to for a while now, that's what happens when you have fifteen pregnancies and a botched hysterectomy that nicks your bladder and then you have to have it reconstructed), but in the meantime I will use Instead. I love them, took some getting used to, but now I cringe at the thought of using something else. I carrying them everywhere just in case. I don't ever want to have to use a vending machine (horrors!) or have to borrow one! 'Nuff said.

There you have it. Now, y'all better not go running out to Tarzhay and stealing it all off the shelves. That would really tick me off. And since I know where most of you live, and I am premenstrual, that would be a very bad idea indeed. mmmmkay?

Lost in TV Land

2007-01-09T07:53:00.000-05:00

I've mentioned before that I am addicted to weight loss and plastic surgery shows on the Discovery Channels and TLC. I have recently added a new obsession to that list.

Last evening I watched a show about a family with thirteen children. Now, six were from her first marriage and her second marriage had three sets of twins and a singleton. All thirteen lived under that roof at the same time (well, when the preemies came home from the hospital). I also make a point to watch the shows about the Duggers, the uber-religious family who just welcomed their sixteenth child to the clan in about eighteen years.

Most people I talk to are disgusted, shocked or confused as to why anyone in their right mind would have so many children. To me, it is the norm. I grew up in Irish-Catholic world, where having ten to twelve children was NOTHING compared to the K family that we knew very well. The K's had fifteen children by the end of her child birthing career and everyone in my teeny family of seven children had a K that was the same age. Sometimes two K's the same age. We went on vacations together (including camping at Fort Wilderness in Disney World! We took up two spots, they took up four!), went on Catholic Family retreats and even walked part of the way to school with some of them.

They have mostly all married at this point. Two have died (one at birth, the other was murdered) and a few more have had multiple medical issues. The youngest two are finishing college. The ones that are married (and one who isn't married) have all had children. One daughter has eight herself. The one that was my closest friend (and still is) has five. She lives in Saint Louis but when we talk it is like High School all over again.

I love watching shows about families because it warms my heart. I know it is reality tv, yadda, yadda, yadda. There is something about seeing other families go through what we've been through that brings back memories. I mean, our family was SMALL in comparison but we still had similar issues (whopping food bills, trips to Salvation Army and Goodwill for clothing, one thing for Christmas). It made me who I am today and I am proud of that. My parents struggled and wish they could have done better but I am here to tell you that I would not change a thing. Except that time when they made me share a car with J, he totalled it, let his friend drive my sister's car and he got in a fender bender, and then when my parents bought us a junker I refused to share it with him and took public trans for two years because I did not want him on my insurance policy. Nah, wouldn't change that either.

And, in case you are wondering, I WOULD have a very large family, if not for the whole placenta-abruptia-bleeding-to-death-thingy.