Remember yesterday?? Remember how I forgot my coffee gift card? Remember how I met an overprotective Dad at Little Boy's PreK testing?? Remember how I forgot the Boy's allergy meds & had to take them to him at school?? Remember how Little Boy jumped into the pool all by himself during swim lessons?? Remember how I won a refurbished computer at the Meeting I attended last night??
Did I forget anything?? Of course I did. Remember the note?? You know, the note that she wrote that said, "My Mom Sucks". You remember now, don't you?
I was going to talk to the Girl about this note tomorrow. I chose tomorrow because Wednesday is our "nothing" day. No swim lessons, no Daisy meetings, no Family Fitness class, nothing extra. Now realize, I think this little note was funny, but I wasn't going to tell her that. I wanted to talk about how in this family, we do not call other people names. I abhor name calling. I want her to be able to express her feelings without shame, but name calling is unacceptable. We were going to talk about how she may want to use her journal (both of my older children have spiral notebooks that they may draw in, write in, Or do whatever they want to in, without worrying about Mom or Dad (or anyone else) peeking. We were going to do this when we had nothing else going on, so that we could discuss this matter without having to be in a rush to get anywhere.
Well guess what?!?!?! "Tomorrow" happened tonight as they were already an hour late getting into bed.....
As usual, the Boy & the Girl were arguing. All I could hear was, "give it back!", "it's mine!", "knock it off!", "she gave it to me", "nooo, YOURS is red, mine is blue, now give it back!". Normally, I would let them try to problem solve this issue, & just let it go, however, it was already past their normal bedtime, & they just needed to GO. TO. SLEEP.
They were fighting over the mitten notepad. The one that had "My Mom Sucks" written on the first page.
I grabbed the notepad & opened it up to the page directed at me. I held open the page in question & (while looking at the Girl) said, "would anyone like to tell me about this?" The Girl had a (truly) confused look on her face. The Boy jumped up, grabbed the notepad out of my hand & said, "give it back, it's mine; she needs to leave my things alone!" I asked the Boy, "did you write this?" In one breath he hollered, "Of course I did, Mom. Remember when you took my DS away from me the last time I went to visit Dr. L, well I was very very mad at you, because you always let me play my DS in her waiting room, and you took it away, and when you gave me the notepad to write on, I had to write down my feelings because my journal was at home; where was I suppose to write down my feelings at!!??!?"
I guess he told me. Who carries their journal with them wherever they go? He did the right thing. He had a valid point. Shoot, this changed the dynamic of the conversation I was going to have with the Girl tomorrow night.
It's amazing. It's absolutely amazing the things that these little beings teach me on a regular basis. I love them so much.
I still can't stand name calling, but you know what? That's a story for another day. Right now I'm going to think up something to do after school tomorrow. Or maybe we'll do nothing. Tomorrow is our nothing day, after all....
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Monday, February 25, 2013
Who Sucks Now???
Today has been ... Well, it's been... How do I put it??? Today has been a different kind of day. Not bad by any means, just different. I was tickled to get back into our regular routine; we all needed it. Now that I've figured out how to input information into the calendar part of my phone & iPad, I can take a peek at what I've got scheduled; as long as I remember to look at the calendar.
Today I looked at the calendar before leaving the house, & was prepared for a brand new day. I knew that after taking the Boy & the Girl to school, I had to get Little Boy to a nearby elementary school to be tested for entry into the PreK program for next year, then whisk him off to swim lessons at 11:30. But first we needed to make a quick stop for a cup of Joe at a local coffeehouse. I had a gift card from friends in the amount of $30, so I thought this would be a great time to treat Little Boy to a smoothie. While they were preparing our concoctions, I was fumbling through my purse to get the gift card, when I remembered putting it on my desk when I switched purses recently. Fiddlesticks!! Oh well, we paid in cash & were on our way.
Next up was PreK testing. Little Boy went to a room with a teacher to do whatever testing it is that they do & I was able to watch a Daddy who hasn't spent much time away from his darling little girl. When her teacher came to take her to the back for her testing, her Daddy followed. When the teacher told him that he had to wait in the lobby with the rest of the parents, he told her that that wasn't happening. She explained to him that in order to get the unbiased results, the parents were not allowed in the testing room. The said a few things I couldn't hear until rather loudly the Dad said, "...wherever my child goes, I go!!" the teacher asked him if he planned on going to PreK with his daughter should she get accepted. The Dad replied, "Yes ma'am." Little Boy was finished with his testing, so we hightailed it out of there. I feel for that teacher, though.
Next up was swim lessons for Little Boy, but not before a stop at the school, as I had forgotten to give the Boy his allergy meds this morning. Yes, I got an earful on how I really need to fix my memory so that this didn't happen again. Thanks son.
Little Boy had swim lessons. The last time he was signed up, I think I remembered to take him to 50% of his classes. Yes, I can be an airhead. Don't judge. He jumped in on his own, which for him, is HUGE. Yes, he got a sticker after lunch. I'm not above a reward when it is earned.
While Little Boy was napping, I decided to clean out my purse. I had a meeting later in the evening at the Teacher Administration Center (to learn about parent's rights regarding a child's IEP). While rummaging around in my too full, too big purse, I found a notepad in the shape of a mitten. I often keep things like this in my purse to occupy my children when we are away from home. The Girl loves having a pen & paper to journal her thoughts. Imagine my surprise when I opened up the the notepad to see "My Mom Suck's" written on a piece of paper. Of course, I had to take a picture of it & put it as my profile picture on FaceBook; isn't that what every other Mom in America would do? Don't worry, I'll have my moment with her to discuss this matter; when I'm done laughing. A friend suggested that I share it with Ellen on her FaceBook page, so I did. Yep, that's how this Mom rolls.
The Husband got the Boy to swim lessons, I got the Girl & Little Boy off to a friends house, & was on my way to see if I could learn anything new about being an advocate for the Boy's education through his IEP Plan. They served dinner & had mini workshops for parents to attend. I ran into my Mom's friend, Sherri. Sherri works for the school system, as did my Mom before she retired a few years back. While we were chatting, they started calling out the numbers for the winners of the 5 refurbished computers. People were all calm when their winning ticket number was called. Well not me. I shouted, "OH MY GOSH, THAT'S MY NUMBER!! I WON!!" Yes I did; loud & proud. that's me. Let's get a woot, woot! So, I sent a text to my husband to tell him that I was bringing home a computer for the kids (this is a blessing for the boy, as it's been suggested that he use keyboarding for some of his schoolwork--another Aspergers thing that we have learned). My husband texted me back, "what kind of computer is it?" My response?? "It's black & has red letters, and it works." I won't tell you what his response was.
So, to my darling daughter, who sucks now??
Today I looked at the calendar before leaving the house, & was prepared for a brand new day. I knew that after taking the Boy & the Girl to school, I had to get Little Boy to a nearby elementary school to be tested for entry into the PreK program for next year, then whisk him off to swim lessons at 11:30. But first we needed to make a quick stop for a cup of Joe at a local coffeehouse. I had a gift card from friends in the amount of $30, so I thought this would be a great time to treat Little Boy to a smoothie. While they were preparing our concoctions, I was fumbling through my purse to get the gift card, when I remembered putting it on my desk when I switched purses recently. Fiddlesticks!! Oh well, we paid in cash & were on our way.
Next up was PreK testing. Little Boy went to a room with a teacher to do whatever testing it is that they do & I was able to watch a Daddy who hasn't spent much time away from his darling little girl. When her teacher came to take her to the back for her testing, her Daddy followed. When the teacher told him that he had to wait in the lobby with the rest of the parents, he told her that that wasn't happening. She explained to him that in order to get the unbiased results, the parents were not allowed in the testing room. The said a few things I couldn't hear until rather loudly the Dad said, "...wherever my child goes, I go!!" the teacher asked him if he planned on going to PreK with his daughter should she get accepted. The Dad replied, "Yes ma'am." Little Boy was finished with his testing, so we hightailed it out of there. I feel for that teacher, though.
Next up was swim lessons for Little Boy, but not before a stop at the school, as I had forgotten to give the Boy his allergy meds this morning. Yes, I got an earful on how I really need to fix my memory so that this didn't happen again. Thanks son.
Little Boy had swim lessons. The last time he was signed up, I think I remembered to take him to 50% of his classes. Yes, I can be an airhead. Don't judge. He jumped in on his own, which for him, is HUGE. Yes, he got a sticker after lunch. I'm not above a reward when it is earned.
While Little Boy was napping, I decided to clean out my purse. I had a meeting later in the evening at the Teacher Administration Center (to learn about parent's rights regarding a child's IEP). While rummaging around in my too full, too big purse, I found a notepad in the shape of a mitten. I often keep things like this in my purse to occupy my children when we are away from home. The Girl loves having a pen & paper to journal her thoughts. Imagine my surprise when I opened up the the notepad to see "My Mom Suck's" written on a piece of paper. Of course, I had to take a picture of it & put it as my profile picture on FaceBook; isn't that what every other Mom in America would do? Don't worry, I'll have my moment with her to discuss this matter; when I'm done laughing. A friend suggested that I share it with Ellen on her FaceBook page, so I did. Yep, that's how this Mom rolls.
The Husband got the Boy to swim lessons, I got the Girl & Little Boy off to a friends house, & was on my way to see if I could learn anything new about being an advocate for the Boy's education through his IEP Plan. They served dinner & had mini workshops for parents to attend. I ran into my Mom's friend, Sherri. Sherri works for the school system, as did my Mom before she retired a few years back. While we were chatting, they started calling out the numbers for the winners of the 5 refurbished computers. People were all calm when their winning ticket number was called. Well not me. I shouted, "OH MY GOSH, THAT'S MY NUMBER!! I WON!!" Yes I did; loud & proud. that's me. Let's get a woot, woot! So, I sent a text to my husband to tell him that I was bringing home a computer for the kids (this is a blessing for the boy, as it's been suggested that he use keyboarding for some of his schoolwork--another Aspergers thing that we have learned). My husband texted me back, "what kind of computer is it?" My response?? "It's black & has red letters, and it works." I won't tell you what his response was.
So, to my darling daughter, who sucks now??
Sunday, February 24, 2013
I Love You, Now Go Back To School!!
We are very excited around here. The kids go back to school tomorrow. Due to a snowstorm, they ended getting a four day weekend (after having a three day weekend the week prior). Before anyone gets all high & mighty, let me say this: just because I am excited for my gets to go back to school, does NOT mean that I do not love them any less than you love your children (yes, there are people who think that those of us who want our regular routine back, are awful for saying that we want our kiddos to go back to school tomorrow).
Little Boy had to go to the hospital to have a toothknocked out pulled; he took a tumble & fractured a tooth in three places. Lucky duck, he got the good meds & a little bit of sleep.
We were able to spend time bonding with each other. When I was awake. I was diagnosed with mono a few weeks ago, & have been slowly trying to get back to normal. Well, as normal as can be for me. I am thankful that my husband was able to be here over most of the long weekend tobe oblivious to the children sneaking junk food help out so that I could get some sleep.
Saturday started out on shaky ground, though. The Boy wanted "eggs like Dad makes" for breakfast. This means over easy, so that he can dip his toast into the center. I can't make eggs like this to save my life. The Boy was so angry with me, that we had the beginnings of a meltdown starting. Before you start to think, "what a bratty kid", remember his brain is wired differently than yours & mine. He is very concrete, & thinking in the abstract can totally throw him off kilter. He likes what he is familiar with, & when handed with something different, it throws him into a tailspin. The "old me" (ie; the me before knowing anything about his Aspergers syndrome), would've thought the same thing, but we are learning how to deal with things & how to try to divert a meltdown. I decided to let him try to make his own eggs to see if it would be easier for him than it is for me. He did not succeed in making over easy eggs, but he got the hands on lesson that many Aspie's need to learn. Crisis averted.
During this lesson, the Girl was suppose to be in the bathroom cleaning up & brushing her teeth, but was being quiet. She is never quiet in the bathroom when she is doing what she is suppose to be doing. I knocked on the door & asked her if she needed anything. She replied, "no Mommy, I'm almost done!" A few minutes later, she went flying down the hall & down the stairs while hollering something about a tea party with her babies. I went into the bathroom and almost fainted. There was pink Disney Princes toothpaste EVERYWHERE!!!! Not a little bit on & in the sink, but EVERYWHERE!!! On the sink, on the floor, on the mirror, on the toilet seat, on the shower curtain, & on the roll of toilet paper!! Ilost my cool hollered for her to come upstairs. When confronted, she said that it was "an accident", & "really didn't know how it could've happened so fast." Had I been the awesome person that I am, I would have taken a picture of the mess, but alas, I was fit to be tied.
When my husband returned home from the call he had been on, Itold him we are never having sex again. EVER told him that I thought it would be best if I went to the nail salon so that I would be able to regroup while being waited on.
Today was awesome. The Girl was sassy about brushing her hair; and she learned what 'lickerty split' and 'doing a song and dance' means. Little Boy learned thatnap time is NOT the time to knock over the Lego table. And the Boy learned that helping out with new chores WITHOUT complaining is a fantastic way to earn a few bucks. AND...I got a 2 hour nap in.
If you want dull, boring, & quiet, please do NOT come to our house. And if chaos is against your religion, our house is not the place for you. If you want noise, a little dirt, drama, & a lot of love, please knock on our door anytime, any day of the week!
Here we are...Take us or leave us
Little Boy had to go to the hospital to have a tooth
We were able to spend time bonding with each other. When I was awake. I was diagnosed with mono a few weeks ago, & have been slowly trying to get back to normal. Well, as normal as can be for me. I am thankful that my husband was able to be here over most of the long weekend to
Saturday started out on shaky ground, though. The Boy wanted "eggs like Dad makes" for breakfast. This means over easy, so that he can dip his toast into the center. I can't make eggs like this to save my life. The Boy was so angry with me, that we had the beginnings of a meltdown starting. Before you start to think, "what a bratty kid", remember his brain is wired differently than yours & mine. He is very concrete, & thinking in the abstract can totally throw him off kilter. He likes what he is familiar with, & when handed with something different, it throws him into a tailspin. The "old me" (ie; the me before knowing anything about his Aspergers syndrome), would've thought the same thing, but we are learning how to deal with things & how to try to divert a meltdown. I decided to let him try to make his own eggs to see if it would be easier for him than it is for me. He did not succeed in making over easy eggs, but he got the hands on lesson that many Aspie's need to learn. Crisis averted.
During this lesson, the Girl was suppose to be in the bathroom cleaning up & brushing her teeth, but was being quiet. She is never quiet in the bathroom when she is doing what she is suppose to be doing. I knocked on the door & asked her if she needed anything. She replied, "no Mommy, I'm almost done!" A few minutes later, she went flying down the hall & down the stairs while hollering something about a tea party with her babies. I went into the bathroom and almost fainted. There was pink Disney Princes toothpaste EVERYWHERE!!!! Not a little bit on & in the sink, but EVERYWHERE!!! On the sink, on the floor, on the mirror, on the toilet seat, on the shower curtain, & on the roll of toilet paper!! I
When my husband returned home from the call he had been on, I
Today was awesome. The Girl was sassy about brushing her hair; and she learned what 'lickerty split' and 'doing a song and dance' means. Little Boy learned thatnap time is NOT the time to knock over the Lego table. And the Boy learned that helping out with new chores WITHOUT complaining is a fantastic way to earn a few bucks. AND...I got a 2 hour nap in.
If you want dull, boring, & quiet, please do NOT come to our house. And if chaos is against your religion, our house is not the place for you. If you want noise, a little dirt, drama, & a lot of love, please knock on our door anytime, any day of the week!
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
He Just Wants A Popsicle...
We went to the oral surgeon this afternoon. Little Boy has to have the "naughty" tooth extracted tomorrow. The doctor asked if I'd like him to be asleep during the process. Hmmm, let's see: he's three years old. He cries at the pediatrician's office when he sees the needle for his immunizations. He wants to be able to eat a banana without the pain causing him to hit the ceiling. Yes. Yes you may knock him out. With a club, if you must. Get that tooth out, because all he wants is for the Tooth Fairy to put some money under his pillow. just like she did for his big brother.
The Boy & the Girl are at a sleepover at a friends house . She will take them to school in the morning. They think a school night sleepover is the coolest thing. Ever. They don't know that it's much different than a sleepover on the weekend. Oh well, they'll live.
Little Boy had his soft noodles & his yogurt for dinner. The "owie" tooth is already starting to break apart (he saw this in the mirror & panicked a bit). His bath is taken & he's wearing his new "hospital" jammies (yes, we bought him jammies to wear to the hospital in the morning). He is so excited for the Tooth Fairy to come. He hasn't a clue as to what is really going on, & that's quite alright with me. He's three years old. He wants the Tooth Fairy. And popsicles. He wants popsicles too.
Little Boy: Please you is going to buy me some popsicles today, Momma?
Me: Yes sir, I think I can handle that.
Little Boy: NOOO....you eats it wif your MOUF, not your HANDS, Momma!
He definitely needs a popsicle, right?
The Boy & the Girl are at a sleepover at a friends house . She will take them to school in the morning. They think a school night sleepover is the coolest thing. Ever. They don't know that it's much different than a sleepover on the weekend. Oh well, they'll live.
Little Boy had his soft noodles & his yogurt for dinner. The "owie" tooth is already starting to break apart (he saw this in the mirror & panicked a bit). His bath is taken & he's wearing his new "hospital" jammies (yes, we bought him jammies to wear to the hospital in the morning). He is so excited for the Tooth Fairy to come. He hasn't a clue as to what is really going on, & that's quite alright with me. He's three years old. He wants the Tooth Fairy. And popsicles. He wants popsicles too.
Little Boy: Please you is going to buy me some popsicles today, Momma?
Me: Yes sir, I think I can handle that.
Little Boy: NOOO....you eats it wif your MOUF, not your HANDS, Momma!
Monday, February 18, 2013
Just Call Him Bruiser
As my favorite redhead Reba would say, "Oh crap!". I am ready to break open a box of Thins Mints right about now, but I'm too tired too walk my fanny upstairs to the room they are locked in.
Last night the Girl had a sleepover at Bella's house and the Boy had a sleepover at EJ's house. Little boy got to have his bestie CJ, spend the night here at our house. Today the kiddos were invited to a birthday party at a local bowling alley. All children would be returned to their rightfulowners parents, & all would be fine & dandy. We were in the parking lot of the bowling alley, ready to meet up with friends, and Little Boy was so excited to go bowling with his siblings & his friends. He even told me, "I help you bowl, Momma; I make sure you not break your pretty fingernails." Isn't he the most thoughtful child you have ever met? I was walking about three feet ahead of him, & I said, "come on sweetie, let's go."
That's when it happened.....Little Boy tripped & fell face first onto the concrete. I picked him up & saw all that blood coming from his mouth. "Oh dear Lord, please let his teeth be okay" was all I could think to myself. We got inside, & my wonderful friends swooped into action: one took the Girl to get shoes, one took the Boy to get shoes, another got an icepack for Little Boy, & I was able to call the dentists office.
Went needed to get across town so the dentist could take a picture, so once again, my friends took over & made sure my older kids were fine. Yes, I am capable of taking all three of my children someplace at once, but it sure is nice that I am surrounded by people who know that during times like this, it's best to keep the injured one alone & calm. One friend even offered up the services of her teenage son to help calm down Little Boy while riding in the car half way across town to our dentist office. (If you are reading this Catherine, your Solaris was amazing with my little guy; if he wants to take a Red Cross babysitting course, he's got a gig at my house any time).
Little Boy was so upset, & looked like he'd been put through the wringer by the time we reached the dentists office. His lip was not fat, it was OBESE!!! When we got to the exam room, he would not let me do anything but hold him. I asked if I could touch his teeth; I knew one was loose, but wanted to see if anymore got knocked around. He hollered at me, "You not touch my mouth Momma; my Dr. Darin do it--not you!" I'm glad that my children trust their dentist, but gee wiz.
Only one tooth was impacted by the little guys fall. It is fractured in three places & has to come out. BOO!! I am thankful that it is a baby tooth, & not a permanent tooth. I'm not thrilled that we have to go & see a children's oral surgeon tomorrow, but we need to get this done soon. Little Boy has a nerve that is exposed & we have to keep him on antibiotics & Tylenol. If he's a drug addict someday, we'll blame it on the fall. (Oh c'mon, I'm joking).
His dinner was very soft: yogurt, baby peaches ("Momma, this is NOT big kid food, I see a baby on that jar"), macaroni & cheese, & a banana. I forgot to tell him to eat the banana with his side teeth. He bit down on it & all hell broke loose. I feel so bad for him. Bath time was lovely too ("Don't touch my mouth, Momma; owies do NOT feel good, Momma; make it go away!").
They were all bathed & ready to be tucked into bed. I was about to get a chance to take off my shirt that was filled with blood.
NOT SO FAST!!!
The batteries ran out in the Girl's Dream light. She left her purple blanket at her friend's house--her FAVORITE purple blanket. And, the Boy gave her a dirty look. She was melting fast....
The Dream light that belongs to the Boy got left at his friends house. He insisted that his ankle was going to fall off because it hurt (I think he stepped on it wrong earlier today; it wasn't swollen). His blankets on his bed were askew (I used to think he was a bit OCD about things such as this...he is...kind of; it's part of the Aspergers). The wrong pillowcase was on his pillow. Again, it' a tactile thing, having to do with Aspergers. He was melting fast as well.
I got them tucked in & was ready to relax when the crying started. Little Boy can't get comfy.
Little Boy is currently in the big bed with Daddy, but I hear him fussing. He may have to sleep upright on his Momma tonight. Sometimes, we just need the maternal touch to make things right.
Last night the Girl had a sleepover at Bella's house and the Boy had a sleepover at EJ's house. Little boy got to have his bestie CJ, spend the night here at our house. Today the kiddos were invited to a birthday party at a local bowling alley. All children would be returned to their rightful
That's when it happened.....Little Boy tripped & fell face first onto the concrete. I picked him up & saw all that blood coming from his mouth. "Oh dear Lord, please let his teeth be okay" was all I could think to myself. We got inside, & my wonderful friends swooped into action: one took the Girl to get shoes, one took the Boy to get shoes, another got an icepack for Little Boy, & I was able to call the dentists office.
Went needed to get across town so the dentist could take a picture, so once again, my friends took over & made sure my older kids were fine. Yes, I am capable of taking all three of my children someplace at once, but it sure is nice that I am surrounded by people who know that during times like this, it's best to keep the injured one alone & calm. One friend even offered up the services of her teenage son to help calm down Little Boy while riding in the car half way across town to our dentist office. (If you are reading this Catherine, your Solaris was amazing with my little guy; if he wants to take a Red Cross babysitting course, he's got a gig at my house any time).
Little Boy was so upset, & looked like he'd been put through the wringer by the time we reached the dentists office. His lip was not fat, it was OBESE!!! When we got to the exam room, he would not let me do anything but hold him. I asked if I could touch his teeth; I knew one was loose, but wanted to see if anymore got knocked around. He hollered at me, "You not touch my mouth Momma; my Dr. Darin do it--not you!" I'm glad that my children trust their dentist, but gee wiz.
Only one tooth was impacted by the little guys fall. It is fractured in three places & has to come out. BOO!! I am thankful that it is a baby tooth, & not a permanent tooth. I'm not thrilled that we have to go & see a children's oral surgeon tomorrow, but we need to get this done soon. Little Boy has a nerve that is exposed & we have to keep him on antibiotics & Tylenol. If he's a drug addict someday, we'll blame it on the fall. (Oh c'mon, I'm joking).
His dinner was very soft: yogurt, baby peaches ("Momma, this is NOT big kid food, I see a baby on that jar"), macaroni & cheese, & a banana. I forgot to tell him to eat the banana with his side teeth. He bit down on it & all hell broke loose. I feel so bad for him. Bath time was lovely too ("Don't touch my mouth, Momma; owies do NOT feel good, Momma; make it go away!").
They were all bathed & ready to be tucked into bed. I was about to get a chance to take off my shirt that was filled with blood.
NOT SO FAST!!!
The batteries ran out in the Girl's Dream light. She left her purple blanket at her friend's house--her FAVORITE purple blanket. And, the Boy gave her a dirty look. She was melting fast....
The Dream light that belongs to the Boy got left at his friends house. He insisted that his ankle was going to fall off because it hurt (I think he stepped on it wrong earlier today; it wasn't swollen). His blankets on his bed were askew (I used to think he was a bit OCD about things such as this...he is...kind of; it's part of the Aspergers). The wrong pillowcase was on his pillow. Again, it' a tactile thing, having to do with Aspergers. He was melting fast as well.
I got them tucked in & was ready to relax when the crying started. Little Boy can't get comfy.
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Do You Know Better???
I really didn't think I'd have to address this again. Maybe I don't NEED to, but I am going to. Remember my Facebook 'friend' who felt the need to criticize me, my children, & my blog? Well apparently, I've gone & ruffled someone else's feathers. Again, it's someone from my personal Facebook page who reads the blog by linking through my page. This person does not 'like' Fancy Pants Lives Here on Facebook. Again, this person could not leave a comment for all of us to see, nor could she call me (yep, we've conversed on the phone many times) to discuss her issues with me. Once again I say, "WHATEVER!"
Here are comments left in her message:
* "You need to get a life, all you do is write about your children."
* "You are sharing way too much information about you son having Aspergers Syndrome; people don't need to hear this kind of thing. It's not like he has a REAL condition."
* "Maybe you need to get a job where you are around grown ups, because listening to you carry on about kids is getting really old. By the way, your kids seem like real brats."
* "If you were a better parent, your children wouldn't be so damn mouthy."
And....MY FAVORITE:
* "I think you need to have some sort of testing done, because there is clearly something wrong with YOU!"
You can be rest assured, I do not choose to surround myself with people who treat others like this. My I am friends with people on Facebook whom I actually know, or have mutual friends with. This type of behavior is the type of thing that bullies do, & in my book, it is unacceptable.
Let me address her concerns, in case anyone else may be having the same concerns. We'll get it out in the open, then we'll be done with it, okay? If you don't like any of my responses or you just want to be a bully & attack what I write, then please excuse yourself from my personal Facebook page, Sassy Pants Lives Here facebook page, & from the blog. If you don't remove yourself, I will do it for you. Now that that is out of the way, here we go:
* I do have a life, thank you very much. It may not be what YOU would have chosen for yourself, but I am not you. I am happy, & I don't need you to be concerned about who or what I choose to write about.
* Of course I'm sharing A LOT of information about my son. This is MY blog, and as such, I am going to share as much or as little as I choose to do. Aspergers is a REAL condition that can be treated. I am going to share information. I am going to share ups & downs. I am going to do this because I may help someone else in their journey with a loved one, or in their journey with my son. If you don't like it, that's okay, but don't you EVER tell me that what this sweet 8yo boy is going through isn't "real". Come to my house or to his school when he is having a meltdown; I'll show you what "real" isn't.
* I do have a part-time job. I work with children and adults. I work with people who I am proud to call my friends. I am around kids all day-I'm a Mom. Of course I'm going to talk about kids. I love kids, & all kids are welcome in our home. We are kid friendly. Brats?? Sure, my kids can act like brats occasionally; can't they all. Grow up & look at how you are parenting your kids; are really as perfect as you think you are??
* I absolutely LOVE the fact that my children are not afraid to say what's on their mind. I was reserved as a child. My Mom said that there were times that talking to me was a struggle. She felt like she had to literally pull the words out of my mouth. My kids are mouthy, but not always disrespectful. We work on having a filter with our words. But I do want them to be able to express their feelings; it's so much easier to deal with a child who is verbal: they can tell you when they are happy, angry, or sad. It is easier to deal with the problem when you know where they stand. I will not apologize for their mouths, because they are happy children. They bring joy to so many people's lives-even if you don't like it.
AND.....
* I'm sure there is something wrong with me. So what about it? I'm not harming anyone. I'm not harming myself. I am aware of my faults, & deal with them. I don't think it's YOUR place to tell me that I need to have some sort of 'testing' done. Testing for what? If I'm annoying you, the cure is easy: go away! I have a fantastic family. I have wonderful friends. I have access to medical & psychological help when I need it. One of my loved ones will let me know if they fear for my safety & my health. Rest assured, YOUR input is not needed.
SOOO....
I do realize that by having a blog that I am open to opinions of others, & I'm fine with that. Seriously, it's all good. Tell me your problem. Have some evidence to support your claims. If I'm so annoying, please don't read what I write. I don't feel the need to have a huge following; I just write what I write for me & anyone else who is interested in reading it. Period.
I would like this to be the last time I have to write something like this. Especially about someone who is here because of being friends on my personal page. Have questions? Just ask!!
Here are comments left in her message:
* "You need to get a life, all you do is write about your children."
* "You are sharing way too much information about you son having Aspergers Syndrome; people don't need to hear this kind of thing. It's not like he has a REAL condition."
* "Maybe you need to get a job where you are around grown ups, because listening to you carry on about kids is getting really old. By the way, your kids seem like real brats."
* "If you were a better parent, your children wouldn't be so damn mouthy."
And....MY FAVORITE:
* "I think you need to have some sort of testing done, because there is clearly something wrong with YOU!"
You can be rest assured, I do not choose to surround myself with people who treat others like this. My I am friends with people on Facebook whom I actually know, or have mutual friends with. This type of behavior is the type of thing that bullies do, & in my book, it is unacceptable.
Let me address her concerns, in case anyone else may be having the same concerns. We'll get it out in the open, then we'll be done with it, okay? If you don't like any of my responses or you just want to be a bully & attack what I write, then please excuse yourself from my personal Facebook page, Sassy Pants Lives Here facebook page, & from the blog. If you don't remove yourself, I will do it for you. Now that that is out of the way, here we go:
* I do have a life, thank you very much. It may not be what YOU would have chosen for yourself, but I am not you. I am happy, & I don't need you to be concerned about who or what I choose to write about.
* Of course I'm sharing A LOT of information about my son. This is MY blog, and as such, I am going to share as much or as little as I choose to do. Aspergers is a REAL condition that can be treated. I am going to share information. I am going to share ups & downs. I am going to do this because I may help someone else in their journey with a loved one, or in their journey with my son. If you don't like it, that's okay, but don't you EVER tell me that what this sweet 8yo boy is going through isn't "real". Come to my house or to his school when he is having a meltdown; I'll show you what "real" isn't.
* I do have a part-time job. I work with children and adults. I work with people who I am proud to call my friends. I am around kids all day-I'm a Mom. Of course I'm going to talk about kids. I love kids, & all kids are welcome in our home. We are kid friendly. Brats?? Sure, my kids can act like brats occasionally; can't they all. Grow up & look at how you are parenting your kids; are really as perfect as you think you are??
* I absolutely LOVE the fact that my children are not afraid to say what's on their mind. I was reserved as a child. My Mom said that there were times that talking to me was a struggle. She felt like she had to literally pull the words out of my mouth. My kids are mouthy, but not always disrespectful. We work on having a filter with our words. But I do want them to be able to express their feelings; it's so much easier to deal with a child who is verbal: they can tell you when they are happy, angry, or sad. It is easier to deal with the problem when you know where they stand. I will not apologize for their mouths, because they are happy children. They bring joy to so many people's lives-even if you don't like it.
AND.....
* I'm sure there is something wrong with me. So what about it? I'm not harming anyone. I'm not harming myself. I am aware of my faults, & deal with them. I don't think it's YOUR place to tell me that I need to have some sort of 'testing' done. Testing for what? If I'm annoying you, the cure is easy: go away! I have a fantastic family. I have wonderful friends. I have access to medical & psychological help when I need it. One of my loved ones will let me know if they fear for my safety & my health. Rest assured, YOUR input is not needed.
SOOO....
I do realize that by having a blog that I am open to opinions of others, & I'm fine with that. Seriously, it's all good. Tell me your problem. Have some evidence to support your claims. If I'm so annoying, please don't read what I write. I don't feel the need to have a huge following; I just write what I write for me & anyone else who is interested in reading it. Period.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
I Don't Need Your Permission To Just Be Me...
Sooo, it's been a few days since my last blog post. I've dedicated myself to fighting the good fight for my oldest this week. It's been 2 weeks since we learned of his Asperger's diagnosis. I've been absorbing information, feeling guilt, grieving for what was that no longer is, & now finally celebrating the chance to learn more about my child (& myself as well).
We've had a few days of extra sauciness in this house, & I have to admit, it feels nice. Chaotic & loud, but nice. Little Boy has been getting the last of the terrific three's out of his system. Anyone who has children, knows that the terrible two's that "they" warn you about , are just a big joke. Three & four, now those are the ages where it's at. Every morning, when I wake the children, I say, in my sing songy voice, "Good morning, it's a brand new day!" Yesterday Little Boy wasn't having any of it, he hollered at me, "Liar, liar, pants on fire~just go away you bully lady!"
I spent the morning with the Boy, so Little Boy got to hang out with Daddy, who was home from work. After an evening of orneriness from my youngest offspring, I was tickled when bedtime rolled around. When I asked him if he was ready to be tucked in, my child who has been a clingy Mommas Boy since birth said, "I lud my Daddy the most, not you, Momma. You is not my favorite. Ever. I wants to live with my Daddy for lots & lots and tons & tons of days forever."
The Boy & the Little Boy had their moment this morning when Little Boy had his big brother trying to make me his partner in crime. The Boy yelled, "He is a horrible little brother; I am going to fire him!" Little Boy hollered back, "No you are not!" The Boy looked at me & said, "I think some poisonous venom will do the trick; do they sell that at Aldis Mom?"
Yes, life is getting back to normal in these parts. We still have so much to learn about Aspergers, but we know that things in our world could be so much worse. Nothing could be worse than being deprived of your favorite things. The Girl is in her first year of Girl Scouts. She is a Daisy on a mission to sell "a ton" of cookies. Today she stated, "If you think that I'm going to be able to sell all of those cookies, then you had better let me try a taste of each kind." She is her Mother's Daughter: honesty in advertising.
My favorite quote of the day was said when the Girl was spinning. When I was a kid, I remember spinning around & around, until I was so dizzy that I couldn't stand any more. I'd fall to the ground, laugh my fanny off, catch my bearings, then do it all over again. It was a kid thing, right? My SIL looked at the Girl & said, "Princesses don't do that." (*raising my right hand* oh no she didn't). In true Kathryn form, without missing a beat, the Girl firmly stated, "I don't need your permission to just be me." My little spitfire is going to go places; heaven help the man who marries her.
I think I spent just under 2 hours trying to decide what design to get on my fingernails when I get my nails done next week. I know, there are many better things I could have been doing with my time, but I just get sucked in. Looking at pretty things & not having to actually "think"; yep, it's okay to do nothing once in awhile. By the way, I think I will have a ladybug design done this next time. I'm always open to fun ideas for manicures; feel free to share on my Facebook page (personal or Sassy Pants).
I also spent some of that 2 hours looking at ideas for a new tattoo. I have Winnie The Pooh on my left shoulder, & I'd like to cover him up with something that pertains to my life now. And on my other shoulder, I've decided on the coolest Autism Puzzle tattoo that is so amazing, & I can incorporate all three of my children's names into it. This will be done this spring or summer. No lectures on why I shouldn't get a tattoo, please.
The Girl has a friend staying the night. The Boy is staying at a friend's house tomorrow night. Little Boy is having a friend stay the night tomorrow night. The Boy is anti-blue jeans today, the Girl is pro-princess today, & Little Boy is anti-Mom. It's loud. It's chaotic. It's my life. And I'm happy with it all. To Quote the Girl, "I don't need your permission to just be me."
We've had a few days of extra sauciness in this house, & I have to admit, it feels nice. Chaotic & loud, but nice. Little Boy has been getting the last of the terrific three's out of his system. Anyone who has children, knows that the terrible two's that "they" warn you about , are just a big joke. Three & four, now those are the ages where it's at. Every morning, when I wake the children, I say, in my sing songy voice, "Good morning, it's a brand new day!" Yesterday Little Boy wasn't having any of it, he hollered at me, "Liar, liar, pants on fire~just go away you bully lady!"
I spent the morning with the Boy, so Little Boy got to hang out with Daddy, who was home from work. After an evening of orneriness from my youngest offspring, I was tickled when bedtime rolled around. When I asked him if he was ready to be tucked in, my child who has been a clingy Mommas Boy since birth said, "I lud my Daddy the most, not you, Momma. You is not my favorite. Ever. I wants to live with my Daddy for lots & lots and tons & tons of days forever."
The Boy & the Little Boy had their moment this morning when Little Boy had his big brother trying to make me his partner in crime. The Boy yelled, "He is a horrible little brother; I am going to fire him!" Little Boy hollered back, "No you are not!" The Boy looked at me & said, "I think some poisonous venom will do the trick; do they sell that at Aldis Mom?"
Yes, life is getting back to normal in these parts. We still have so much to learn about Aspergers, but we know that things in our world could be so much worse. Nothing could be worse than being deprived of your favorite things. The Girl is in her first year of Girl Scouts. She is a Daisy on a mission to sell "a ton" of cookies. Today she stated, "If you think that I'm going to be able to sell all of those cookies, then you had better let me try a taste of each kind." She is her Mother's Daughter: honesty in advertising.
My favorite quote of the day was said when the Girl was spinning. When I was a kid, I remember spinning around & around, until I was so dizzy that I couldn't stand any more. I'd fall to the ground, laugh my fanny off, catch my bearings, then do it all over again. It was a kid thing, right? My SIL looked at the Girl & said, "Princesses don't do that." (*raising my right hand* oh no she didn't). In true Kathryn form, without missing a beat, the Girl firmly stated, "I don't need your permission to just be me." My little spitfire is going to go places; heaven help the man who marries her.
I think I spent just under 2 hours trying to decide what design to get on my fingernails when I get my nails done next week. I know, there are many better things I could have been doing with my time, but I just get sucked in. Looking at pretty things & not having to actually "think"; yep, it's okay to do nothing once in awhile. By the way, I think I will have a ladybug design done this next time. I'm always open to fun ideas for manicures; feel free to share on my Facebook page (personal or Sassy Pants).
I also spent some of that 2 hours looking at ideas for a new tattoo. I have Winnie The Pooh on my left shoulder, & I'd like to cover him up with something that pertains to my life now. And on my other shoulder, I've decided on the coolest Autism Puzzle tattoo that is so amazing, & I can incorporate all three of my children's names into it. This will be done this spring or summer. No lectures on why I shouldn't get a tattoo, please.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Crybaby Was Here....
Crybaby. Fussbudget. Sniveler. Bellyacher. Bawl baby. Whiner. Squawker.
When I was a child, those words were used to describe me. On a daily basis. These emotions are back to haunt me. Not because I am weak, but because I FEEL weak. Make sense? No? It's my feelings of failure I'm talking about here. My feeling that I've done something wrong. My brain knows that I didn't, & that I need to suck it up & deal with the issues at hand so that I can advocate for my son. So that I can assure that everything possible under the sun is going to be done to assure his success. My heart is another story. I stopped by work this morning to get a few things taken care of, & I'll be darned if Old Crybaby didn't show her face. There was a mix up in our swim lesson registration for the Big Boy & the Girl. Simple fix. Easy Peasey. I broke down in tears. I went down the hall to discuss subbing for a coworker at the end of the month. Again, I broke down in tears. Good grief, I needed to get out of that place so I could gain some composure.
I went to the library to check out some reading material that the Big Boy's psychologist had suggested. I found some books, & decided to sit down & browse before deciding which ones to check out. I came to a paragraph in one book about teaching Aspergers children to ask for help, as this is something that they can have a difficult time with when they get frustrated. You guessed it. I sat there on the floor silently crying my eyes out.
Let me say this: I am NOT a weak person. I have had some things happen in my life that might very well curl your toes. I would gladly go through those experiences again & again, if it meant that any of my children would not have to feel pain, confusion, loneliness, or heartbreak. That is not reality, though.
I am getting fired up for a SAT meeting this Thursday morning. Several staff members, the school psychologist, & I are going to discuss the Big Boy's new goals. The we will be setting up a time to get an IEP meeting scheduled. I have overwhelming feelings of anger at the school psychologist right now. Had she done her job the way I feel she should have, my son would already be a year into a behavior program. I have already decided that I am taking control of this meeting Thursday morning. The Boy's teacher & principal already know how angry I am with the psychologist. I know the tears are a my way of getting ready to stand up for my child. I am trying to figure out how to NOT rip this woman's head off. In my ideal world, the Boy's current psychologist,whom he sees every 2 weeks, would be there, but she has other commitments that morning. That's okay, I will make it clear that we will follow her plan for my children. We will work together as a team, for the benefit of my child. Period. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
That being said, the Little Boy & I went to the school to have lunch today. We alternate who we eat lunch with each time. It was time to join the Girl today. She doesn't need advance notice; the Boy likes his routine, & requires me to forewarn him when we are coming.
We joined the Girl & her class to eat some food that is not the same stuff we ate way back when. I'm telling you, school lunches were tasty at one time. But this isn't really about the food. Because I am able to stay home, I am able to join them at lunch time--that's what it's all about.
Today I learned that in first grade, it's fun to discuss the following things: vomit, dancing, knock knock jokes, & the TV show Jessie. I found out that it is not, under any circumstances to make fun of the Girls' brothers. Either of them. One of the Girls' classmates started laughing at the Little Boys speech, & I thought she was going to throw her tray at him. Then when the Big Boys' class came in & he made eye contact with me, this same child said, "look Kathryn, your brother looks like he's in a bad mood, as usual". OH. MY. GOODNESS!! The Girl looked that child square in the eye & said, "if you ever say anything bad about my brothers ever again, I'm going to make sure you go to the nurse's office & have to go home for the rest of the day! My brothers are my family & you may not say bad things about them!".
The Boy & The girl in one of their finer moments
I don't know where she got that fire in her belly from, because Crybaby made an appearance. Again....
When I was a child, those words were used to describe me. On a daily basis. These emotions are back to haunt me. Not because I am weak, but because I FEEL weak. Make sense? No? It's my feelings of failure I'm talking about here. My feeling that I've done something wrong. My brain knows that I didn't, & that I need to suck it up & deal with the issues at hand so that I can advocate for my son. So that I can assure that everything possible under the sun is going to be done to assure his success. My heart is another story. I stopped by work this morning to get a few things taken care of, & I'll be darned if Old Crybaby didn't show her face. There was a mix up in our swim lesson registration for the Big Boy & the Girl. Simple fix. Easy Peasey. I broke down in tears. I went down the hall to discuss subbing for a coworker at the end of the month. Again, I broke down in tears. Good grief, I needed to get out of that place so I could gain some composure.
I went to the library to check out some reading material that the Big Boy's psychologist had suggested. I found some books, & decided to sit down & browse before deciding which ones to check out. I came to a paragraph in one book about teaching Aspergers children to ask for help, as this is something that they can have a difficult time with when they get frustrated. You guessed it. I sat there on the floor silently crying my eyes out.
Let me say this: I am NOT a weak person. I have had some things happen in my life that might very well curl your toes. I would gladly go through those experiences again & again, if it meant that any of my children would not have to feel pain, confusion, loneliness, or heartbreak. That is not reality, though.
I am getting fired up for a SAT meeting this Thursday morning. Several staff members, the school psychologist, & I are going to discuss the Big Boy's new goals. The we will be setting up a time to get an IEP meeting scheduled. I have overwhelming feelings of anger at the school psychologist right now. Had she done her job the way I feel she should have, my son would already be a year into a behavior program. I have already decided that I am taking control of this meeting Thursday morning. The Boy's teacher & principal already know how angry I am with the psychologist. I know the tears are a my way of getting ready to stand up for my child. I am trying to figure out how to NOT rip this woman's head off. In my ideal world, the Boy's current psychologist,whom he sees every 2 weeks, would be there, but she has other commitments that morning. That's okay, I will make it clear that we will follow her plan for my children. We will work together as a team, for the benefit of my child. Period. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
That being said, the Little Boy & I went to the school to have lunch today. We alternate who we eat lunch with each time. It was time to join the Girl today. She doesn't need advance notice; the Boy likes his routine, & requires me to forewarn him when we are coming.
We joined the Girl & her class to eat some food that is not the same stuff we ate way back when. I'm telling you, school lunches were tasty at one time. But this isn't really about the food. Because I am able to stay home, I am able to join them at lunch time--that's what it's all about.
Today I learned that in first grade, it's fun to discuss the following things: vomit, dancing, knock knock jokes, & the TV show Jessie. I found out that it is not, under any circumstances to make fun of the Girls' brothers. Either of them. One of the Girls' classmates started laughing at the Little Boys speech, & I thought she was going to throw her tray at him. Then when the Big Boys' class came in & he made eye contact with me, this same child said, "look Kathryn, your brother looks like he's in a bad mood, as usual". OH. MY. GOODNESS!! The Girl looked that child square in the eye & said, "if you ever say anything bad about my brothers ever again, I'm going to make sure you go to the nurse's office & have to go home for the rest of the day! My brothers are my family & you may not say bad things about them!".
The Boy & The girl in one of their finer momentsSunday, February 10, 2013
The Best Laid Plans...
It was going to be a fairly low key day. I wanted to do as little as possible, as this mono has left me feeling really weak & tired. Unfortunately, there isn't a lot of time for weak & tired when you are a parent. My plan was to put away the 6 heaping baskets of laundry that have been folded & waiting to be put in the proper dressers. We were also going to make the kids Valentine's Day mailboxes for school. And I was going to nap with the Little Boy. Naps are a good thing.
There was this smell in the basement living area. It would not go away. It has gotten worse each day. My husband said that I was imagining things. This from a man who can't smell a thing. I swear, his smeller is broken. Mine is not. I decided that we'd find the source of the smell & then get our chores done so that we could bond as a family. Then take a nap. I told the kids, "...we will find out what is causing the smell in this room; it had better be a dead mouse, because if someone had food in this room again, I am going to go ballistic." It was then that the little boy asked, "what is ballistic, Momma?", to which the Girl replied, "it's when she gets all ugly & acts like she's the boss of everybody." (WHAAA????) I then glared at her & said (very loudly), "EXCUSE ME?!??" The Girl then told her little brother, "it's when we better do what she says, because if we don't, we are in HUGE trouble".
My kids are only allowed to eat food in the kitchen. There was a time when they were allowed to have a snack in their bedroom, but those days ended when I found apple cores, banana peels, & fruit snack wrappers under beds & behind furniture. I was certain that I was going to find rotten produce, so we started pulling out furniture and the deep cleaning began. Little Boy was ecstatic when the vacuum cleaner came out. I know, right? In his defense, he's only 3 years old, so the vacuum cleaner isn't evil in his eyes.
We cleaned two bedrooms & almost all of the living room, when I was getting so frustrated. Where is that awful smell coming from?!? I was beginning to think that we really were going to find a dead mouse hidden somewhere. But where was it?? I was half tempted to look in the curtain rods for rotting food (remember the story about the divorcing couple & how the husband & his new lady friend wanted the house, & how the ex-wife put shrimp in the curtain rods? Yeah, my mind was going there).
THEN IT HIT ME!! LOOK IN THE COUCH!! If you take the cushions off of the couch, there is an area where it is ripped, & you can lose things like Lego's, iPods, Hot Wheels cars, Mommas lipstick, & stuff like that. So I got the attachment thingy from the vacuum cleaner out & sucked up everything in that hole. No dead rodents, but the smell was even stronger than before. I pulled the couch out from the wall & tipped it onto it's back. Guess what I found? MOLD!!! I wish I had found a mouse, because mold is the enemy. How in the world is there mold on the bottom of the couch??
Last summer we had a little bit of a flood in our basement. Yes I know, there was a drought last summer, but we had a flood in our basement. My sister-in-law had watered her flowers on the side of the house, & forgot about the running hose while she went inside to take a nap. This happened every day for about a week straight, until one day the basement was flooded. It was a mess!!
Eventually, we got everything cleaned up, dried out carpeting & walls, & didn't lose anything. Until today. When I cut into the fabric that covers the bottom of the couch, it was putrid!! I cut that sucker off, threw it away, & call my husband, who was at a job (these things often happen when it's his week to be on call--naturally).
I finished cleaning the basement, & we got to take a little Family Field Trip to Nebraska Furniture Mart after the Husband got home. I was sooo tired. And sooo cranky. We had to take the Little Boy (the older two got to go & play at a friends house). Little Boy was cranky. Remember, he & I didn't get our nap, and we've both been under the weather. I just wanted to go downstairs to the bedding department & take my nap. I didn't like a single thing that I saw. I wanted to go home.
We walked in the freezing cold rain to the building where the bargains & discounted merchandise was located. The Little Boy had to visit the restroom approximately 348 times. With Daddy. This made me happy, because I usually have to schlep this kid with me to the ladies room everywhere we go. It was Daddy's turn, & I was tickled pink. It ALMOST made up for not getting my nap, when I saw how frustrated the Husband was getting.
We found the couch. It's not perfect. I don't want perfect. Our children are still young, we don't need perfect furniture. By perfect, I mean I would have picked something much nicer it I didn't have young children. Right now, it's all about durability, cleanability, & looks. In that order. We will get the couch later this week when our friend with a pickup truck who owes a favor, can help us out.
While I was on kid bath/shower duty, the Husband was making dinner. I already knew that those kids of mine would be going to bed early tonight; the Gypsy's are on TV, & I knew I was going to indulge in some entertainment tonight.
At dinner, the Boy was asking when they would get to make their Valentine's boxes. The Girl asked if she still had to help put "all of those huge baskets of laundry" away. The Little Boy asked, "why you not go ballistic, Momma? I was waiting to see ballistic".
How do you tell this sweet little boy that he just needs to give it a few years, THEN he just may see his Momma go ballistic....
There was this smell in the basement living area. It would not go away. It has gotten worse each day. My husband said that I was imagining things. This from a man who can't smell a thing. I swear, his smeller is broken. Mine is not. I decided that we'd find the source of the smell & then get our chores done so that we could bond as a family. Then take a nap. I told the kids, "...we will find out what is causing the smell in this room; it had better be a dead mouse, because if someone had food in this room again, I am going to go ballistic." It was then that the little boy asked, "what is ballistic, Momma?", to which the Girl replied, "it's when she gets all ugly & acts like she's the boss of everybody." (WHAAA????) I then glared at her & said (very loudly), "EXCUSE ME?!??" The Girl then told her little brother, "it's when we better do what she says, because if we don't, we are in HUGE trouble".
My kids are only allowed to eat food in the kitchen. There was a time when they were allowed to have a snack in their bedroom, but those days ended when I found apple cores, banana peels, & fruit snack wrappers under beds & behind furniture. I was certain that I was going to find rotten produce, so we started pulling out furniture and the deep cleaning began. Little Boy was ecstatic when the vacuum cleaner came out. I know, right? In his defense, he's only 3 years old, so the vacuum cleaner isn't evil in his eyes.
We cleaned two bedrooms & almost all of the living room, when I was getting so frustrated. Where is that awful smell coming from?!? I was beginning to think that we really were going to find a dead mouse hidden somewhere. But where was it?? I was half tempted to look in the curtain rods for rotting food (remember the story about the divorcing couple & how the husband & his new lady friend wanted the house, & how the ex-wife put shrimp in the curtain rods? Yeah, my mind was going there).
THEN IT HIT ME!! LOOK IN THE COUCH!! If you take the cushions off of the couch, there is an area where it is ripped, & you can lose things like Lego's, iPods, Hot Wheels cars, Mommas lipstick, & stuff like that. So I got the attachment thingy from the vacuum cleaner out & sucked up everything in that hole. No dead rodents, but the smell was even stronger than before. I pulled the couch out from the wall & tipped it onto it's back. Guess what I found? MOLD!!! I wish I had found a mouse, because mold is the enemy. How in the world is there mold on the bottom of the couch??
Last summer we had a little bit of a flood in our basement. Yes I know, there was a drought last summer, but we had a flood in our basement. My sister-in-law had watered her flowers on the side of the house, & forgot about the running hose while she went inside to take a nap. This happened every day for about a week straight, until one day the basement was flooded. It was a mess!!
Eventually, we got everything cleaned up, dried out carpeting & walls, & didn't lose anything. Until today. When I cut into the fabric that covers the bottom of the couch, it was putrid!! I cut that sucker off, threw it away, & call my husband, who was at a job (these things often happen when it's his week to be on call--naturally).
I finished cleaning the basement, & we got to take a little Family Field Trip to Nebraska Furniture Mart after the Husband got home. I was sooo tired. And sooo cranky. We had to take the Little Boy (the older two got to go & play at a friends house). Little Boy was cranky. Remember, he & I didn't get our nap, and we've both been under the weather. I just wanted to go downstairs to the bedding department & take my nap. I didn't like a single thing that I saw. I wanted to go home.
We walked in the freezing cold rain to the building where the bargains & discounted merchandise was located. The Little Boy had to visit the restroom approximately 348 times. With Daddy. This made me happy, because I usually have to schlep this kid with me to the ladies room everywhere we go. It was Daddy's turn, & I was tickled pink. It ALMOST made up for not getting my nap, when I saw how frustrated the Husband was getting.
We found the couch. It's not perfect. I don't want perfect. Our children are still young, we don't need perfect furniture. By perfect, I mean I would have picked something much nicer it I didn't have young children. Right now, it's all about durability, cleanability, & looks. In that order. We will get the couch later this week when our friend with a pickup truck who owes a favor, can help us out.
While I was on kid bath/shower duty, the Husband was making dinner. I already knew that those kids of mine would be going to bed early tonight; the Gypsy's are on TV, & I knew I was going to indulge in some entertainment tonight.
At dinner, the Boy was asking when they would get to make their Valentine's boxes. The Girl asked if she still had to help put "all of those huge baskets of laundry" away. The Little Boy asked, "why you not go ballistic, Momma? I was waiting to see ballistic".
Friday, February 8, 2013
She Only Eats Food That Is Delicious
We've had a week of crazy this weekat our house. Monday, the Girl, the Little Boy, & I were under the weather. Tuesday, I had to pick up the Boy from school for outbursts that coul not be controlled (he was so frutrated & was having a hard time focusing/listening), only to turn around and pick up the Girl a little over an hour later. Wednesday, while still running a fever, we waited over 4 hours for the washing machine repair guy; only to find out that he needs to order a part & will be back NEXT Wednesday to fix it. Gotta love heaping piles of laundry that can't be done (right about now, I bet the Husband is happy that I have a 'thing' for owning extra under garments & socks). I finally went to the doctor on Thursday; I was certain that I had an ear infection & needed some antibiotics. I wish it was an ear infection. I have Mono. Great. Today, the Little Boy has been running a fever and has a runny nose & a cough.
It's really not THAT bad. I remind myself that it could always be worse. Really, it could ~ we are blessed. I know that things are somewhat normal when I have to send someone to the corner, take away privileges, orsound like a raving lunatic raise my voice louder than I would like.
I was trying to be upbeat & chipper when we got home from picking up the Boy & the Girl from school this afternoon, despite the fact that the Little Boy was sobbing that he wanted to stay in the minivan so he could "go somewhere". The Big Boy wasn't walking fast enough for the the Girl. Rather than patiently wait for him to walk in the house first, or even ask him to move aside so she could go in the house first, she smacked him with her backpack. When he turned around tosmack her back tell her to knock it off, she kicked him in his private parts.
So much for being upbeat & chipper. I had a feeling that this weekend was going to be 2 days longer than I would like.
She knew that her younger brother was not feeling well, so took the opportunity to tell him that he can't live at our house anymore. She told him that "we don't need anybabies here anymore; you need to go back to where you used to live before you lived here. Do you know where that is? You lived in Mom's belly, & you need to get back in there!". WHAT?!?!?? The Little Boy was in tears, "I not go anywhere, I live here, I not a baby, I is a big boy, and YOu is a mean girl!".
Nose to the corner. AGAIN. It wasn't a feeling anymore. I KNEW this weekend was going to be 2 days longer than I would like.
Often times I am the Mom who forgets to look in the kid's backpacks until 10 minutes before it's time to leave for shcool. I was on top of it today; I was going to check backpacks before the weekend even started. WOOT! WOOT! As I was reading the letter from her teacher, I assumed it was a response to the note I had sent this morning informing her of how the Girl will be late on Monday so she can go to the eye doctor. It was not. It was a note of concern. Yep, the Girl informed her teacher that her parents do not feed her dinner at night. Nice. Not. The Girl is a petite little thing, & told her Grandma that she only likes to eat food that is "delicious" (re: strawberries, chocolate, peaches, cinnamon toast, & peanut butter & jelly sandwiches). Her teacher was concerned. Concerned?!?! Have you seen the rest of the family? We are not malnourished! I got on the phone to the school. Thank goodness that lady was still there. She said that she thought it was a "tall tale", but was concerned because the Girl is, "always so kind, helpful, obedient, & helpful". She forgot to add liar to the list. She doesn't know the girl who has the sassiest mouth in the world. She doesn't know the girl who was on her second stint in the corner, while we'd only been home for 15 minutes. "Obedient", my big toe. The Girl sat facing the wall while reading tonight.
Oh yeah, did I mention that the Husband is on call this weekend?
This weekend is going to be 2 days longer than I would like....
It's really not THAT bad. I remind myself that it could always be worse. Really, it could ~ we are blessed. I know that things are somewhat normal when I have to send someone to the corner, take away privileges, or
I was trying to be upbeat & chipper when we got home from picking up the Boy & the Girl from school this afternoon, despite the fact that the Little Boy was sobbing that he wanted to stay in the minivan so he could "go somewhere". The Big Boy wasn't walking fast enough for the the Girl. Rather than patiently wait for him to walk in the house first, or even ask him to move aside so she could go in the house first, she smacked him with her backpack. When he turned around to
So much for being upbeat & chipper. I had a feeling that this weekend was going to be 2 days longer than I would like.
She knew that her younger brother was not feeling well, so took the opportunity to tell him that he can't live at our house anymore. She told him that "we don't need anybabies here anymore; you need to go back to where you used to live before you lived here. Do you know where that is? You lived in Mom's belly, & you need to get back in there!". WHAT?!?!?? The Little Boy was in tears, "I not go anywhere, I live here, I not a baby, I is a big boy, and YOu is a mean girl!".
Nose to the corner. AGAIN. It wasn't a feeling anymore. I KNEW this weekend was going to be 2 days longer than I would like.
Often times I am the Mom who forgets to look in the kid's backpacks until 10 minutes before it's time to leave for shcool. I was on top of it today; I was going to check backpacks before the weekend even started. WOOT! WOOT! As I was reading the letter from her teacher, I assumed it was a response to the note I had sent this morning informing her of how the Girl will be late on Monday so she can go to the eye doctor. It was not. It was a note of concern. Yep, the Girl informed her teacher that her parents do not feed her dinner at night. Nice. Not. The Girl is a petite little thing, & told her Grandma that she only likes to eat food that is "delicious" (re: strawberries, chocolate, peaches, cinnamon toast, & peanut butter & jelly sandwiches). Her teacher was concerned. Concerned?!?! Have you seen the rest of the family? We are not malnourished! I got on the phone to the school. Thank goodness that lady was still there. She said that she thought it was a "tall tale", but was concerned because the Girl is, "always so kind, helpful, obedient, & helpful". She forgot to add liar to the list. She doesn't know the girl who has the sassiest mouth in the world. She doesn't know the girl who was on her second stint in the corner, while we'd only been home for 15 minutes. "Obedient", my big toe. The Girl sat facing the wall while reading tonight.
Oh yeah, did I mention that the Husband is on call this weekend?
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
I Just Want To Dance In The Rain...
Dancing in the rain last summer
Monday morning I woke up feeling really crummy. I tried to push myself to get the kids out of bed so that they could get ready for school. The girl was sick too. Nice. After a friend offered to take the boy to school, we got settled in on the couch; I figured we could keep the little boy at bay if we popped a cartoon in the DVD player. After an uneventful day, we made it to bedtime, & the girl seemed to be ready for school the next day.
Tuesday morning came & I felt worse than ever. My fever was holding strong at 101, but the husband got the boy & the girl off to school & went in to work late. I called the little boys preschool teacher & told her that I was ill & would not be making the drive in, only to have to turn around & pick him up 2 hours later. The little boy was full of salt & vinegar, but I managed to get him to play quietly so I could rest & try to get some sleep. TRY is the operative word here. Each time I got comfy. the little boy needed something that required my attention: a drink, his blanket, help wiping his bottom, & a "teeny tiny snack for my tummy Momma".
Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood (a spin off of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood) came on, & I knew that rest time was finally here. My little boy loves this show like no other. just as I got cozy under the covers, my phone rang. Drat! It was the boys' teacher. He was having behavior issues today. He was refusing to work & disrupting learning time. I had her put him on the phone & he got his Mom lecture on doing his work & what the consequences would be, should he make the wrong choice. His teacher cut the call short when he took off running down the hall after he & I spoke.
I knew there would be more to come.
Thirty minutes later my phone rang again. It was the school asking me to come & get the big boy. He was interfering with other children's ability to work, they were short staffed, & could not control him. Nice. SIL was home, so I asked her to keep an eye on little boy so that I may get big boy from school. I threw a coat on over my pajamas, put on my tennis shoes, & popped a stick of gum in my mouth (to mask my 'sick breath') & was on my way.
When I got to the school, the boy was sitting in a chair sobbing, growling, & rocking back & forth. He had a glazed look in his eyes that I've come to notice in recent months; he seems to be shutting out outside chaos when he gets this look on his face.
When we got home, I told him that there would be no Pokemon cards, no DS, no Bakugans or Bey Blades, & no TV for the rest of the evening. I informed him that he would be doing his homework & helping with chores, then he would be able to read a book or he could sit & stare at the wall. Period. End of discussion. I was not going to let him think that coming home from school was going to be a picnic. His psychologist said to not make a huge deal out of this, as we accidentally reinforce negative attention. Fine. I wanted to strangle my formerly well behaved child, but decided that I didn't have time to deal with CPS.
The big boy & little boy were claiming to be hungry. I looked at the clock & saw that it was lunchtime. Whatever. I was exhausted, but figured it'd be in my best interest to feed them before any of us did something unthinkable (oh c'mon, I wouldn't harm them; & if I did, I could blame the fever, right?). Slapping a bowl of cereal in front of each of them, along with some peanut butter toast, & a glass of milk would have to do. The big boy can't stand cold cereal, he says it's lame. He didn't complain, though. I think he knew I meant business.
Guess what? The school called me an hour later. This time it was to come & pick up the girl. Seriously?! Apparently she had vomited, & they frown on keeping vomitters at school. Once again, I asked SIL to keep an ear on my boys so that I may go & pick up the girl. When you become a parent, things are no longer all about you; this is just an FYI for those who didn't know this little nugget of information. Today was proving this to be true in a way that was getting under my skin.
We got the girl settle in her jammies & had her snuggles up next to me on the couch, when the little boy decided to get jealous. He had to squeeze his little body in between the girl & I. After the squealing & bickering subsided, we were (finally) able to rest until the husband of mine got home from work. The husband took over with kid & dinner duty, & I was able to take a small nap.
Dinnertime was quiet. YAY!! This can normally be a very loud time in our house. It was nice to not have everyone trying to speak over each other & argue about who had more milk in their glass, & all that jazz. Out of the blue the big boy looked up at Daddy & said, "thanks for this awesome food Dad. SHE made me eat Lucky Charms for lunch, & I thought I was going to die. This meal reminds me of how happy I was last summer when SHE was nice & let us dance in the rain".
He had settled down, but was still ticked off at me. I can accept that; it's in my job description. This morning he said he is going to try to have a super day at school today. This makes me happy, because his little brother got sick in the middle of the night last night. On our bed. I can't do any laundry until after the GE guy gets here to fix our washing machine that has been acting up for 2 weeks. UGH!!
As my friend pulled in to our driveway to take the boy & the girl to school, the boy gave me a hug & said, "I am going to think about my dancing in the rain happy feelings today, Mom". Then he gave me a hug.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
They Want To Sell Me THAT??
It was really a super day. No, I'm not talking about the Super Bowl that's in progress right now, or the half time show that seems to be dividing a nation (at least it is on my personal Face Book page).
The Boy earned a pull from his grab bag. The little slip of paper read, "alone time with Dad". I heard the Husband ask my oldest what he;d like to do. It was a big fat secret, that I couldn't know anything about. Okay fine, do your thing, but get home in time for me to get my mani/pedi at 1:00, okay boys? My gal pal Jami is meeting me at the nail salon & I need a fresh coat of paint & primer on these fingertips of mine.
By the way,here's what the Boy requested for his adventure with Daddy: he wanted to go to Target to pick up the tin of Pokemon cards that he'd earned a week ago, then to mosey on over to the card aisle to listen to the newest 'singing' greeting cards. My kids love those funny, silly, noise making greeting cards. I think the darn things are not very practical & overpriced, but they love them. They got home & I was on my out the door to see my friend Jami & my nail guru, Tina.
After we got settled in, & had our feet soaking away, Tina turned on the TV for our enjoyment. There was the tail end of a commercial for some company that will do restorative work to your carpeting, just call 1-800-CLEAN-ME. After listening to how your carpet traps horrible things from the outdoors & just traps them, Jami looked at me & said, "is this an infomercial channel?". Is there such a thing?
Why yes. Yes there is such a thing!!
Next on the old boob tube was an hour of prostates. Okay, it was an infomercial for an all natural product to help your failing prostrate. We learned all about the prostate and why it makes men have issues with sleeping, peeing, & performing (hey now....their words, not mine).
Then it was Cindy Crawford's turn to tell us just what it is that she does to stay so young looking. Of course sheis making a few bucks on this miracle melon a firm believer who uses this product everyday of her life, so we MUST purchase without delay!
At this point, my friend Jamimade her escape had to leave, as she was done with her pedicure. I on the other hand, was on the edge of my seat was ready for my manicure.
After selecting my cute hot pink color for my mani, I was ready to hear all about how I needed to purchase the New & Improved Shark Steam Mop with a dual head pads and pillows to pick up the toughest & stickiest of spills. Now this is a product that, if I purchased, would either fall apart 3 hours after the warranty expired, or have More New & Improved features after I got mine home. This is a product that I would have to be very careful about asking for. I a husband who can tunes out a crying baby at 3:00am, but would hear me say, "maybe we need a new steam mop", then purchase it for my birthday!!
My mani/pedi time was coming to an end. Tina was doing the finishing touches on my nail design as I was THIS CLOSE to purchasing the stupid mop, if it meant the TV would get turned off. I will be back in 3 weeks to get my nails done again, even if Tina's choice of TV station isn't my favorite. This is my time. It is quiet & I get pampered. I get what I want, when I want it, without any backtalk. I can get colorful & creative with my nails, or I can getboring practical nails. It's fun & when I get unique designs, my nails are great conversation starters.
Here are some of the things I've done to my body during time away from my offspring. Wouldn't you want to have a conversations with me??
The Boy earned a pull from his grab bag. The little slip of paper read, "alone time with Dad". I heard the Husband ask my oldest what he;d like to do. It was a big fat secret, that I couldn't know anything about. Okay fine, do your thing, but get home in time for me to get my mani/pedi at 1:00, okay boys? My gal pal Jami is meeting me at the nail salon & I need a fresh coat of paint & primer on these fingertips of mine.
By the way,here's what the Boy requested for his adventure with Daddy: he wanted to go to Target to pick up the tin of Pokemon cards that he'd earned a week ago, then to mosey on over to the card aisle to listen to the newest 'singing' greeting cards. My kids love those funny, silly, noise making greeting cards. I think the darn things are not very practical & overpriced, but they love them. They got home & I was on my out the door to see my friend Jami & my nail guru, Tina.
After we got settled in, & had our feet soaking away, Tina turned on the TV for our enjoyment. There was the tail end of a commercial for some company that will do restorative work to your carpeting, just call 1-800-CLEAN-ME. After listening to how your carpet traps horrible things from the outdoors & just traps them, Jami looked at me & said, "is this an infomercial channel?". Is there such a thing?
Why yes. Yes there is such a thing!!
Next on the old boob tube was an hour of prostates. Okay, it was an infomercial for an all natural product to help your failing prostrate. We learned all about the prostate and why it makes men have issues with sleeping, peeing, & performing (hey now....their words, not mine).
Then it was Cindy Crawford's turn to tell us just what it is that she does to stay so young looking. Of course she
At this point, my friend Jami
After selecting my cute hot pink color for my mani, I was ready to hear all about how I needed to purchase the New & Improved Shark Steam Mop with a dual head pads and pillows to pick up the toughest & stickiest of spills. Now this is a product that, if I purchased, would either fall apart 3 hours after the warranty expired, or have More New & Improved features after I got mine home. This is a product that I would have to be very careful about asking for. I a husband who can tunes out a crying baby at 3:00am, but would hear me say, "maybe we need a new steam mop", then purchase it for my birthday!!
My mani/pedi time was coming to an end. Tina was doing the finishing touches on my nail design as I was THIS CLOSE to purchasing the stupid mop, if it meant the TV would get turned off. I will be back in 3 weeks to get my nails done again, even if Tina's choice of TV station isn't my favorite. This is my time. It is quiet & I get pampered. I get what I want, when I want it, without any backtalk. I can get colorful & creative with my nails, or I can get
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Sticks & Stones May Break My Bones
The whole idea of this blog is to share funny little tidbits of my life, not to bitch or bring anyone down with negativity. Well guess what? My life isn't always funny. We are human, & as humans, we are not perfect. We have many emotions, & I've always found that journaling is a great way to deal with my emotions. The only difference between journaling of yesteryear & journaling nowadays, is that more people get to see & hear my thoughts. Granted, my number of "likes" isn't huge (I think it's a mere 60 something, and most of you already know me ~~ there are only 2 of you whom I do not know personally), & that's okay; I am not a professional blogger. I am a Mom who shares info about her sassy children (& yes there is some sarcastic fun thrown in).
There are a few things that I absolutely despise: 1)name calling, 2)judgemental people, 3)those who harm children, & 4)those who take advantage of others.
Monday I shared some raw emotion with you; it was painful, but I chose to share information about me that only a few people knew about. I shared a Mother's love for her son. Yesterday, I shared the results of the psychological testing that we had had done. I was not asking you to define my child in a negative way; he is still the same child he was before. I was sharing the fact that I will make sure that he can get the necessary help in controlling his emotions. And yes, I was looking for some support from friends. Even though he is still the same, and I am relieved to have some answers, I did not have to answer to every one's individual questions of "how things went" at his doctor's appointment. The beauty of social media is this: I can share as much or as little with as many or as few people as I choose. I am the Mom in this family, & I am not perfect. I have & will make mistakes; they are MINE to make, nobody else's.
One of my Facebook 'friends' who follows this blog through my personal page (not the Sassy Pants Lives Here Facebook page), chose to do #1 and #2. (stop thinking potty training, & refer to my list in above paragraph #2).
I was sent a message that basically stated, "people don't want to hear about what is wrong with your child; I've met him & already know that he is weird. You are a strange woman as well. You need to stop trying to force people to like you. Your blog is full of "my kid is better than your kid sh^t, & you need to stop writing it. You are an amateur, & don't know how to write".
OH NO SHE DIDN'T!!!!!
She 1)couldn't post this in any of my comments or 2)call me (yes, she is someone whom I know in "real life).
Let's get a few things straight:
1)Go back to my first post (oh heck, take a look at any of my daily Facebook posts): I made it clear that I LOVE punctuation (especially exclamation points & periods). I use spell check, but sometimes things get missed. Often times, I do my posting at the end of the day, when everyone else is in bed, & I don't see errors until after I've hit the 'publish' button. GET OVER IT OR JUST STOP READING ANYTHING I WRITE ~~ PLAIN & SIMPLE!!
2)The ONLY person allowed to call anyone in my family weird, is ME. I say it out of love. I say it jokingly. Again, I am the Mom here. I'M GUESSING THERE ARE PLENTY OF PEOPLE WHO THINK YOU ARE WEIRD TOO.
3)I suppose I am a strange woman, but I don't need anyone pointing out my flaws; I can do that quite nicely on my own, thank you very much. STRANGE OR NOT, I LOVE MY CHILDREN!!
4)I don't try & force people to like me. Sometimes people are in the same room with me, & are forced to listen to me. Oh well, I'm a talker, I know it & I own it. TAKE ME OR LEAVE ME, I SERIOUSLY DON'T CARE IF SOMEONE IS MY FRIEND OR NOT.
5)I have never, ever, for one single minute thought that my children are better than anyone else's children. I can be strict & full of rules, but I also can't let them run the house: they are children, I am the Mom. AGAIN: GET OVER IT, OR STOP READING ANYTHING I WRITE.
Don't worry, I can take criticism. I'm not weak by any means. By please...if you have a question, ASK ME!! I don't like passive/aggressive crap. If you can understand that things in my brain have been a bit muddled this week. I am someone who gets emotional & leans on loved ones, THEN I am able to think with logic. It's who I am, take me or leave me.
I saw this t-shirt design & it seemed appropriate for my critic. Stick & stones may break my bones...
There are a few things that I absolutely despise: 1)name calling, 2)judgemental people, 3)those who harm children, & 4)those who take advantage of others.
Monday I shared some raw emotion with you; it was painful, but I chose to share information about me that only a few people knew about. I shared a Mother's love for her son. Yesterday, I shared the results of the psychological testing that we had had done. I was not asking you to define my child in a negative way; he is still the same child he was before. I was sharing the fact that I will make sure that he can get the necessary help in controlling his emotions. And yes, I was looking for some support from friends. Even though he is still the same, and I am relieved to have some answers, I did not have to answer to every one's individual questions of "how things went" at his doctor's appointment. The beauty of social media is this: I can share as much or as little with as many or as few people as I choose. I am the Mom in this family, & I am not perfect. I have & will make mistakes; they are MINE to make, nobody else's.
One of my Facebook 'friends' who follows this blog through my personal page (not the Sassy Pants Lives Here Facebook page), chose to do #1 and #2. (stop thinking potty training, & refer to my list in above paragraph #2).
I was sent a message that basically stated, "people don't want to hear about what is wrong with your child; I've met him & already know that he is weird. You are a strange woman as well. You need to stop trying to force people to like you. Your blog is full of "my kid is better than your kid sh^t, & you need to stop writing it. You are an amateur, & don't know how to write".
OH NO SHE DIDN'T!!!!!
She 1)couldn't post this in any of my comments or 2)call me (yes, she is someone whom I know in "real life).
Let's get a few things straight:
1)Go back to my first post (oh heck, take a look at any of my daily Facebook posts): I made it clear that I LOVE punctuation (especially exclamation points & periods). I use spell check, but sometimes things get missed. Often times, I do my posting at the end of the day, when everyone else is in bed, & I don't see errors until after I've hit the 'publish' button. GET OVER IT OR JUST STOP READING ANYTHING I WRITE ~~ PLAIN & SIMPLE!!
2)The ONLY person allowed to call anyone in my family weird, is ME. I say it out of love. I say it jokingly. Again, I am the Mom here. I'M GUESSING THERE ARE PLENTY OF PEOPLE WHO THINK YOU ARE WEIRD TOO.
3)I suppose I am a strange woman, but I don't need anyone pointing out my flaws; I can do that quite nicely on my own, thank you very much. STRANGE OR NOT, I LOVE MY CHILDREN!!
4)I don't try & force people to like me. Sometimes people are in the same room with me, & are forced to listen to me. Oh well, I'm a talker, I know it & I own it. TAKE ME OR LEAVE ME, I SERIOUSLY DON'T CARE IF SOMEONE IS MY FRIEND OR NOT.
5)I have never, ever, for one single minute thought that my children are better than anyone else's children. I can be strict & full of rules, but I also can't let them run the house: they are children, I am the Mom. AGAIN: GET OVER IT, OR STOP READING ANYTHING I WRITE.
Don't worry, I can take criticism. I'm not weak by any means. By please...if you have a question, ASK ME!! I don't like passive/aggressive crap. If you can understand that things in my brain have been a bit muddled this week. I am someone who gets emotional & leans on loved ones, THEN I am able to think with logic. It's who I am, take me or leave me.
Friday, February 1, 2013
"We Part His Hair On The Left"
I was going to get all of our stuff ready for The Boy's swim meet tomorrow. I was going to fold the laundry that's been sitting in the dryer since last night. I was going to soak the polish off of my fingernails (aah, my love of of fabulously manicured nails ~~ another time, friends...another time).
Instead, I've spent the evening watching my children play the Wii & giggle up a storm. I've been absorbing them. I tried to give hugs & kisses, but was turned away. It's okay, though. They were getting along, which is a rarity in our house. Remember: The Boy & The Girl are only 16 months apart, then The Little Boy is 3 (for a little while longer anyway).
I was going to work on my awesome wall calendar. It's the giant color coded calendar that reminds us of appointments, play dates, swim team practice, Daisy meetings, marathon training miles, & anything else that my brain would otherwise forget. Not tonight. It can wait.
My mind was on the meeting at the psychologist's office this morning. It was this morning where we learned that there is an answer for The Boy. There is hope. He has a diagnosis. Let me ask you this: if I tell you his diagnosis, will you look at him differently? Would you still give him a chance? Will you mock him? Will you tease him because he needs help so that he can learn to focus, to control his emotions when he is frustrated, or to redirect from a subject that he just can't let go of? Will you see his awesome smile? Will you enjoy his silly sense of humor? Will you appreciate his brain (he is smarter than you know)? Will you remember that he is just a little boy of 8 years old?
If I tell you his diagnosis, & you you tell me, "that's funny he doesn't LOOK like he has Aspergers", I am going to tell you, "well that's because we part his hair on the left instead of the right". (Yeah, there is no "look" for so many diagnosis' out there, so I will be a smarty bucket if you choose to not educate yourself before you open your mouth ~~ this isn't a new feeling I have;ask me & I'll tell you about the wonderful world of acceptance that my parents raised me in). The Boy is still The Boy, nothing has changed. We just know that he can get get extra help at school now. We know that we can learn how we can help him to be the best Boy that he can be. I will stay on top of the teachers, counselors, & anyone else who isn't my husband or myself.
And you know what?? If he's going to have something, at least it has the coolest ribbon. And if you can't tell what "it" is, it's because we part his hair on the left....
Instead, I've spent the evening watching my children play the Wii & giggle up a storm. I've been absorbing them. I tried to give hugs & kisses, but was turned away. It's okay, though. They were getting along, which is a rarity in our house. Remember: The Boy & The Girl are only 16 months apart, then The Little Boy is 3 (for a little while longer anyway).
I was going to work on my awesome wall calendar. It's the giant color coded calendar that reminds us of appointments, play dates, swim team practice, Daisy meetings, marathon training miles, & anything else that my brain would otherwise forget. Not tonight. It can wait.
My mind was on the meeting at the psychologist's office this morning. It was this morning where we learned that there is an answer for The Boy. There is hope. He has a diagnosis. Let me ask you this: if I tell you his diagnosis, will you look at him differently? Would you still give him a chance? Will you mock him? Will you tease him because he needs help so that he can learn to focus, to control his emotions when he is frustrated, or to redirect from a subject that he just can't let go of? Will you see his awesome smile? Will you enjoy his silly sense of humor? Will you appreciate his brain (he is smarter than you know)? Will you remember that he is just a little boy of 8 years old?
If I tell you his diagnosis, & you you tell me, "that's funny he doesn't LOOK like he has Aspergers", I am going to tell you, "well that's because we part his hair on the left instead of the right". (Yeah, there is no "look" for so many diagnosis' out there, so I will be a smarty bucket if you choose to not educate yourself before you open your mouth ~~ this isn't a new feeling I have;ask me & I'll tell you about the wonderful world of acceptance that my parents raised me in). The Boy is still The Boy, nothing has changed. We just know that he can get get extra help at school now. We know that we can learn how we can help him to be the best Boy that he can be. I will stay on top of the teachers, counselors, & anyone else who isn't my husband or myself.
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