You Say Sarcasm, We Say Sassiness...

Here in Sassy World, every family member has had the title of Sassy Pants at one time or another.  I'd say that the Girl is the Princess of Sass, because somewhere in her gene pool lurks the Queen of Sassy.  If you must know, as a child, I was NOT sassy.  Seriously.  No really, I was a crybaby Mama's Girl.  My very own Mom was a bit of a rebel, so we will say that it was passed down from HER side of the family.  If you want to talk about little nuggets of sarcasm, then I MIGHT claim the title.  Okay, the sarcasm is directed at my children via my Facebook and blog posts, but it's sarcasm just the same.  Okay.....it MIGHT be directed at a lady whom we call Play date Mom (PDM for short), or for some other clueless person that Sassy Family may or may not need to educate.  Don't worry if you don't know who PDM is, I have plenty of reality tv real life experiences to share, but not today. 

Examples of sassiness in our house:
"Stop it right now or I'm sticking your head in the toilet!"
"Eww, he's trying to lick your butt!"
"Quit being stupid!"
"If you put your nose in my armpit again, I'm going to chop your head off!"
"I'd like you to have another baby; it should be a girl; and I'd like you to name her Lola."
"If you let me eat cookies for breakfast, I'll give you a quarter for the cart at Aldis."
"When you aren't here, Daddy let's us eat ice cream, candy, and Doritos."
"You just don't know what it's like to live in MY head!"
"When I grow up & live in my own house, I'm going to lock all the doors so that YOU can't get in Mom!"

And my favorite from the day the the Boy & the Girl discovered that their teenage brother had armpit hair:

"I am SO GLAD that I am a girl.  I don't think that I would like to grow hair THERE!"  (I just smiled & nodded my hair at her.  My husband & I didn't want to ruin the surprise for her).

We Don't Have Time For You, Miss Braggy Braggerton McBraggypants

I try to be a good Mom.  I try to be a good wife.  I try to be a good daughter, friend, employee, citizen, & any other title you throw my way.  I love to share experiences about our little lives.  On occasion Often times, I will share more than you would like to hear; I am honest about this fact.  I am not going to pretend to be someone that I'm not.  I am not going to pretend that my children are someones that they aren't.  You can take us or leave us.

So why do the OAM's have to ruin it for the rest of us.  The OAM's are the Overachieving Mom's who have & do it all.  Their children are perfect.  Their children can do no wrong.  Everything is everyone else's fault.  They pin & do every craft on Pinterest.  They actually move their Elf on the Shelf in the days leading up to Christmas.  They schedule play dates for their older children for the day after they get home from giving birth to their 2nd perfect child.  They bake everything from scratch.  Their children are involved in & are the best at every activity they do.  Perfectly manicured nails?  You betcha.  Hair in place, with perfect highlights & low lights?  Of course!  Where did they come from??

Let me say this:  I have friends who do the crafts & cook the foods that they've pinned, & I love these women.  I think their Elf on the Shelf ideas rock; I didn't buy mine until AFTER Christmas this year (you know there is going to be something different now that we have one at our house).  Yes, my friend did plan a play date for her older son for the day after she got home from giving birth to her younger daughter; she's also 15 years younger than me, & I say all the more power to her (she just doesn't know how to sit still).  I too, bake from scratch, it's just not done on a regular basis.  I'm glad their children are involved in lots of extracurricular activities; it just wouldn't work in our house.  Mani/pedi's???  YES, YES, YES!!!!  I receive gift certificates, & I only go every three weeks.  I could live without this if I had to.  No really, I could.

These regular people are not OAM's, though.  They are regular people, living regular lives.  It's the one's who feel that they must brag about every. single. thing. their children do.  While I'm busy wiping my youngest butt because he finally got this potty training thing down, their child can ask to go potty in 4 different languages.  While I am trying to sort through toys to keep, toss, or donate, her family has gone to some foreign country over their 4 day weekend to help build homes for the underprivileged.  While my friends & I were having our monthly Taco Night at 9:00pm (after kiddos were in bed), she & her friends were having a Girls Weekend in Cabo, while their nannies took their children on a shopping spree to FAO Schwartz. 

These are the Mom's who like to look down their noses at those of us who are living a real life.  If you think I am making up the above scenarios, you would be half right.  I have met people who have done some of these things.  I try not to judge, because I don't know their whole story.  Nor would I trade places with them for a million bucks; they've got problems just like we do; just on a different level.  I can choose to ignore them.  Or not follow their blogs.  Or not be their Facebook friend.  I can smile at them & say nothing, then carry on with my life.

Then I can vent & be a tad bit snarky in my not so perfect blog.  Yep, that's what I'll do.

She Was Kind Of Weird, & Not In A Funny Way....

"I hate you!"  "You are so mean!"  "I wish I could live someplace else!"  "You never let me do anything!"  "I have to do everything!"

Those are things that at least one of my children hollers on a regular basis.  Pick & choose they say.  Pick & choose your battles.  We do not put up with backtalk in this house.  But I do know that we have to take the context of what is being said into account.  Like the time we were getting ready to leave for the grocery store & I asked Little Boy to try to go potty before we left.  He threw himself on the floor & shouted, "I have to everything, it's not fair!"  I was like, "What in the world?!?"  I didn't think that being asked to go potty was a situation that would elicit such a response.  He'd heard the Girl howl that one many times, & I guess that's how he felt he needed to respond. 

I've said it before & I'll say it again, I am so thankful that I know where I stand with my children.  No....we are not raising a crew of brats who don't know respect.  However, the fact that they aren't afraid to speak their mind makes it easier to know how to correct a situation & turn it into a teachable moment.  If they kept everything bottled up I am sure I'd have to really wrack my brain to pull the thoughts & words out into daylight.  I want my children to know that they can come to us anytime.  I want them to know that they do not have to be afraid to tell us anything.  We'll work out the kinks before we release them into the big wild world.  Hopefully in the end, we'll find that we've done one or two things right.

As a Mom, it is hard to know that I have to trust others with my children.  I want to protect my kids from any unkind words that someone else may throw their way.  We let go & trust teachers, coaches, scout leaders, & other caregivers.  I know that I can't be by their sides all the time but gosh, no one knows my kiddos like I do.

Thursday night I was in the gymnasium of the Y that I work at, teaching a Family Fitness class.  The Girl was in swim lessons, & the boy was across the hall playing video games in the game zone room until it was time for his swim lessons.  I trust the staff in every area at our Y, but I sometimes worry when the Boy is in this area.  Not because of the staff, they are fantastic, but because when I am teaching my class, this room gets more crowded than usual.  I have to kick the older teens out of the gym so that I can teach my class, which consists of parents/guardians & their children.  I worry about the noise bothering the Boy.  I worry about his interactions with the older children because they don't know him & his personality.  They don't know that he is so literal & concrete.  They don't know that when he asks for a turn & waits patiently for a turn & doesn't get it, he may have his world turned upside down.  He doesn't know that sometimes older kids don't want to share with younger kids.  They don't know that this may set him into a tailspin, & it could result in him having a meltdown that I get to deal with.

When it was time for the Boy to head downstairs to the pool for swim lessons, I had my friend M's daughters head down the hall to get him so they could walk downstairs together.  After a few minutes, M's son came running back into the gym saying, "some old lady is yelling at the Boy, & he looks really upset."  I had my group move on in their activity & excused myself for a moment so that I could check things out.  The Boy came flying down the hall, face as red as a beet, & tears were welled up in his eyes.  He looked at me & said, "I don't want to talk to you Mom.  Leave me alone." 

Leave him alone?!?!  Who did he think he was talking to??

The Boy has a few quirks that have been attributed to his Aspergers.  One of them is that his nose gets "bothered".  He often times feels that there is something in there, & being a kid, sticks his finger in there.  NOTHING comes out, but it bugs him to no end.  When we see it at home, or if his teacher sees it at school, he is reminded to go & wash his hands with soap & water, to help avoid the spreading of germs.  Well a lady was in the game zone with her grandchildren while they were playing the Wii.  The Boy was playing a game on the Wii as well.  Apparently, he had "one of his itchies" in his nose, so he did his thing then proceeded to pick up the game controller.  This woman went off on my child, calling him a "nasty boy", & stating that he needed to "get out".  By the time I got down the hall, I (kindly) asked what happened.  Everyone knew this was my child.  Except for this woman.  She started telling me that this "nasty behavior should be put up with".  I (kindly) informed her that this is my child & that at our Y we do NOT speak to children in this manner.  I informed her that in a situation like this, it would best to ask him to please wash his hands, and that we will NOT name call & demean a child or anyone else while in the Y.  I informed that we treat people with respect.  After all, "what if he has an illness or disability that you can't see with the naked eye?" 

The young man working in the game zone apologized to me, telling me that it happened so fast, that he didn't have a chance to intervene.  I wasn't worried.  I spoke my peace in a calm yet firm manner.  My Boy calmed down & went to swim lessons.  My Boy didn't cry, yell, grunt, fall to the floor & rock, or anything else that may have been deemed inappropriate.  He walked away from a situation that was uncomfortable.  Proud of my child?  You bet!! 

It wasn't until the next day at his doctors appointment that the Boy chose to talk about the situation.  He told his doctor & I, "That lady was mean, but I didn't have to be around her, so I left."

Then the Boy added, "she was kind of weird, & not in a funny way; I just hope she brushed her teeth when she got home, because her breath was hot & stinky."

Stepping Outside My Comfort Zone

When I share on my blog or on my FaceBook pages, 9 times out of 10 it's going to be about the silly &/or naughty thing that my children do.  As you know, the Girl is mouthy with her Momma & the rest of her family, Little Boy is ornery & wants everything that the older children have, & the Boy is equally as sassy as his sister.  As of late, you might think that when I write about the Boy it's all about Aspergers; of course there is so much more to this child.  The reason it may seem this way is because this diagnosis is still new to us, & we are learning so much about it (& him too).  I find that by sharing with you, I have a release.  I have also found several other Spectrum Parents via FaceBook who are going through many of the same things we are going through in our house.  It's always refreshing to know that others are dealing with some of the same issues.  It's always a nice feeling when you know that there is a wonderful support system, & that you are not alone.

My husband & I have been discussing whether or not we should share the Boy's diagnosis with him.  We know that he deserves to know why things are different for him: why he has a hard time with schoolwork, why he has meltdowns, why he gets overloaded with information, & why certain fabrics bug the crap out of him, to name a few.  We also know that this wonderful boy of ours is a manipulator; if we tell him the word "Aspergers", he will use it as an excuse to not do things when they get difficult.  We've decided to let him know that his brain processes information differently, & this is why he visits Dr. L (his psychologist) every 2 weeks, this is why he has things set a little differently in his classroom, that we want him to be comfortable in his environment so that he can succeed in every way possible.

Sometimes sitting down with him, I'm not sure if he's listening, so we will sometimes discuss things at mealtime, then the kids can absorb the information & we can revisit the topic later.  I chose to do that this morning, thinking that the Girl & Little Boy need to be a part of the conversation as well.

Rather than explain that his brain is different, I thought I'd approach the subject by talking about a "what if" scenario with them.  What if I had a pet zebra, but the former owner gave me a book about taking care of a whale?  Here's the conversation that followed:

**The Boy:  Mom, that wouldn't happen & you know it.  Zebras are not domesticated animals.  (yes, that's his 'concrete & real' coming through).
**Me:  Let's just pretend, okay?  What if someone gave us a pet zebra, but gave us an owners manual for a whale?  How would we know what to feed it, how to give it proper shelter, what would we do do comfort it if it was in pain, how would we give it a bath, & what kind of medical treatment might it need if it got hurt or sick?
**The Boy:  We could call the people who use to own it.
**Me:  We couldn't reach them by phone.
**The Boy: Send them a text or an email & tell them to get you the right owner's manual.
**Me:  They don't have email or texting on their phone.  What are we going to do?
**The Boy: We could go to the library & check out a book on taking care of zebras.
**Me: What if it was a holiday & the library was closed?
**The Boy:  I know, we could look it up on the Internet!
**Me:  What if our Internet was down?
**The Boy:  How about if we call Dr. Linda? (Dr. Linda is our dog's vet)
**Me:  What if we couldn't reach her?
**The Boy:  I guess we would have to love it & care for it the best we can until we got the right owner's manual or some other kind of information that would work for our zebra.  Can I go wash up & brush my teeth now?"

This my friends, is a discussion that we will revisit later.  For now I will take my son's advice: I will love all three of my little zebras (my Aspie & my 'neurotypicals'), and I will care for them as best I can....

Pick A Chore, Any Chore....

"Doing chores is punishment!"  This is what the Girl shouted when we were looking at her new chore chart for the month of March.  "Doing chores is not punishment; they are a way for you to help out in this family".  Apparently she did not like this response, because I heard her grumble under her breath, "I'm going to find a NEW family."

My older two children have been doing chores of some sort or another since they were 2 & 3 years old.  Whether is was putting their toys away, taking laundry to the laundry room, sorting said laundry, taking trash can to the curb for trash day, or feeding the dog, they've always had some sort of responsibility around here.  Well now all of that stuff they used to do has a name: CHORES.  Now they grumble & whine when the mere mention of doing these things.

Want to know what my solution to that was??  I quit giving them chores.
Actually, I gave them more to do, with incentive.  We will not call it allowance; that will come later I'm sure.  Yes, I spent the better part of my day making, laminating, & cutting chores charts for each child.  We've got age appropriate tasks for each of them, with each task being assigned a point value.  If at the end of the week, they have a set upon number of points accumulated, they then get to choose a reward ticket.  If I catch them being good or going above & beyond at any point during the week, they may or may not receive a 'caught ya being good' ticket.  Since my older two are so competitive, I assigned some like chores & some different chores on their charts, with each of them having the potential points earned at the end of the week being a different number.  Hopefully, they will focus on their jobs and not worry about nosing into each others business.  I know that last part is probably wishful thinking, but hey, it's worth a try, isn't it?

Like with anything else, it won't work if we don't enforce it, so my husband has to be on board with this too.  He thinks it's kind of silly to have them earn prizes for jobs that we all should be doing to make the family unit run smoother (I paraphrased as Jeff does not talk like that).  However, he said that he will back me up if it means teaching  them to leave the nest so we can have some peace & quiet responsibilities for when they are grown up, then he will back me up. 

So, they've got their chore charts hung up on the wall, they've seen what the rewards that they can earn are (so bright & shiny, laminated on card stock), they are loving the fact that they can initial their charts when they have completed a task, & have been told if they grumble while doing their job, they get an "X", thus not earning their points for that task. 

At bedtime tonight, the Girl asked me if her chores would change.  I told her that we will change their charts each month.  I said, " you may keep some chores & you may have new ones added; it's all based on what responsibilities Daddy & I think you can & should be doing." 

She looked at me & asked, "what is your reward?"  I raised my eyebrow & asked, "MY reward?"  She said, "yeah, your reward; you do these chores all the time.  Where is your chart?"  I told her I don't have a reward chart, because I'm the Mommy. 

Her response??  "If that's part of the deal, then I'm not going to become a Mom.  Ever.  That's a ripoff!"

Remember Yesterday???

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....

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??

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 tooth knocked 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 to be 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!!  I lost 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, I told 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

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?

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 rightful owners 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.

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!!

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."

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....

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....

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, or sound 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 to smack 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....

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.



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 she is 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 Jami made 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 get boring 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??