Monday, January 28, 2008



Me: Did you have fun in preschool today?
Bubs: Yes.
Me: Did you make a project?
Bubs: Yes.
Me: What did you make?
Bubs: Something beautiful
Me: Oh, yes, what did you use to create this beautiful something? Paint, Markers?
Bubs: Crayon
Me: (fumbling through the pile of papers on the front seat of the car and locating said 'something beautiful) Oh, you are right, this is beautiful. What did you draw here?
Bubs: A lamprey eel.
Me: Oh, of course, of course it is a lamprey eel.

Sunday, January 27, 2008

Small Talk


My husband and I got to go to a wedding last night. I honestly think the last wedding I went to was my own. Seriously. So we get all dolled up and wrote out our gigantic check (to cover our plates, I love that tradition) and went to the big wedding factory. I have to say I got a little overwhelmed. I am still a big ball of swirling emotions, and big events like this always add in a little anxiety. It was my husband's cousin's wedding, so it wasn't my home turf. I knew ahead of time that some mingling and schmoozing was going to be expected of me, and in my book that is considered work.
So we get there and start the obligatory travelling from relative to relative with the usual small talk topics of convo. I don't get into the particulars with bubs. If anyone asks how he is doing, I say 'great' and leave it at that. They don't know our story, they don't really need to, and my son is doing great, so no problem there. My husband introduces me to one guy, a random cousin I never met. Nice enough. He has three or four kids, and he asks us about our guy. We tell him and then he starts in on the 'are you having any more?' and we said no and the guy looked crushed. Like we kicked his dog or something. 'Oh, you have to have more' he says. 'No, we don't'. I say. God knows what my face looks like, I have a habit of gruesome facial expressions that don't always fit the crime. 'Oh, you really should have more, I keep beggin my wife for another'. I am thinking, 'listen buddy, did you have horrible postpartum depression bordering on psychosis, an infant who screamed bloody murder day and night who turned into a toddler who never looked at you, never spoke, never played with a toy, spinned wheels incessantly who later was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder requiring 19.5 hours of intense one on one service at your home in which you became a virtual prisoner, except for the twice weekly jaunts to the o.t. place? Did you become an obsessive parent constantly researching diets, supplements, recipes, therapies, etc., till you were on the verge of losing your ever loving mind'???????? Did you? Huh? No? I didn't think so. But I didn't say that. I just said " I am too old for another one". I would never ask another person that question. Gosh, I could have had secondary infertility, no ovaries, or something else wrong with my woman parts that were not any of his business or proper wedding convo.
Then of course this sparked the 'do you want another child?' convo that my husband and I have around three or four times a year. Not really what I thought we'd be discussing on our big night out, while a band played 'hips don't lie'. It makes me sad to know I won't be having another baby sometimes, but I also know it's a choice I made (with my husband)knowing how I am, how our marriage is, and what we can handle. I always hear that stupid saying about 'not regretting a child you had but regretting the child you never had'. I always envision myself as an old lady sitting in front of the tv with an afghan, watching wheel of fortune and just saying "I wish I had another child when I was forty one, why oh why didn't I have another child?". I am afraid I am going to regret it, but then the other intrusive, more real thoughts make their way in the door and I know I made the right choice, for us.

Friday, January 25, 2008

Sortin and classifyin....


I was watching the wonder that is bubs tonight playing happily in the tub and I felt the strong desire to document it. This is what bubs loves most in the world, to sit in a nice relaxing tub and sort his creatures. He told me he needed lots of bowls to make his aquariums, perhaps that was for my benefit, to try and persuade me of the functionality of it all. To be honest, I am not sure it ever occurred to me that this might not be the most functional way to play, but who am I to judge? Bubs' school has had me on the defense lately, we are struggling with rigidity and control and I am very hesitant about the way they are handling it. They actually use the term 'sabotage' in reference to purposely taking away the control from a controlling child. Yes, I get it in theory, but this is a person we are speaking about, my little sweet little controlling little guy they are messing with. It's been a rough week or so with regards to that. Still not sure how it is going to pan out. I have a team meeting on tuesday, I think I'll have a better idea then.

PhotobucketBack to the bliss- Bubs is very particular about what creatures come into the tub each night and he spends a great deal of time beforehand picking the winners and skimming over the undesirables (and don't kid yourself, one nights faves are another nights duds). He does make them talk to each other and tonight's big feat was making sure they all had a home. Sometimes he even runs discrete trials with them, I love it when he gives them positive reinforcement. Then he lined up all the aquariums into a little train, complete with a little caboose, and I noticed the head car was in a different direction. So clever. Once he completed his masterpiece he called me in ever so lovingly 'Moooooooommmmmm, come and sit on the potty'. I told him I was so proud of him I had to take a picture, so I did.


Thursday, January 24, 2008



Ok, it's official. I am a Jenny Craig dropout. I cannot say that I didn't give it a chance though. I started it in the beginning of October and hung in till now. I did manage to lose 12 lbs, but that ain't enough to justify the bucks it's costing me each week. I think I had an epiphany the other day. The key to losing weight is eating less and exercising more. Gee. Do you think I should get a patent on that idea? Somehow, I thought Jenny held the keys to the skinny kingdom, little did I know all she had to offer me was some frozen mac and cheese and mealy tasting vitamin bars. I realized recently that my half assed attempts at losing weight are not healthy for me, mentally and physically. I really have to get my mind straight in order to do this, and when (not if, I am affirming here, people!) I do , I don't need to spend large amounts of money on sub par food to do so. I did think it would help, maybe it did in some weird way.
So last night, I kind of felt a huge sigh of relief when I realized I didn't have to walk through the doors of the 'center' and feel like a big fat failure. That was my first thought. My next thought was, let's eat. Ok, I know that's not really a healthy way to proceed, but I have been really struggling the last few months and I am incredibly sick of eating pre packaged meals. I have to watch this though, I think I border on addiction when it comes to food. As soon as I decided I wasn't going back there, I made a mental list of all the things I would like to eat before I start the next phase of this journey. In my mind, I went overboard (and I had a few too many trader joe oreo's in the process). I was reminded of that scene in "Leaving Las Vegas" where Nicholas Cage's character decides he is going to drink himself to death and goes to that liquor supermarket and loads up on his poison. I know the first step in addressing a problem is realizing you have the problem in the first place, correct? I know I have been stuck on this step for quite a while now.
I did treat myself to Panera today for lunch. Ooooh, I have missed them so badly. I used to make a weekly date with myself to go and get a 'you pick two' combo and a huge refillable diet soda and sit there with a book and feel like a college student again. Jenny said I had to stop, so I did, even though a small bowl of soup and half a sandwich shouldn't be considered 'cheating'. So screw you Jenny, I am going back to weight watchers, I miss those damn points. I thought I would never say that. Now I just have to screen my calls because I know Jenny is going to be calling me (agressively).

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Ducks in a row


I am not a puzzle piece kind of person, and I usually don't wear any 'autism gear',but I really liked the sentiment expressed by this one. My sister gave it to me and she got it from cafe press. I wore it for the first time today. When I got my son off the bus this afternoon, the first thing he said to me was 'I like your shirt, mom'. Now I really love this shirt. Either my son is incredibly perceptive, or he just liked the cute ducks. I prefer the first one.

Friday, January 18, 2008

Don't worry about a thing...


I feel like a big downer lately. It's a valley right now. Peak must be imminent soon, that's the cycle of life, right? It's usually around this time that I will hear 'Three little birds" on the radio and have some kind of epiphany.
I just started reading this book called "When things fall apart" by Pema Chodron. She is the first American woman ordained as a Buddhist Nun and she is a teacher at Gampo Abbey in Nova Scotia. I looked it up to see if I could perhaps pop in there for a weekend or so, to you know, get some inner peace. You have to commit to at least 6 months and probably shave your head. I will just try and read the book for now. While the book has a pretty grim title (and I have to admit, that is what drew me to it) it's about finding some sort of peace in the midst of turmoil. It's very simple and very difficult at the same time. I used to read books like this back in the day, all the time. Like candy. I just don't think I ever really absorbed any information from them. Plus the fact that while I have had serious bouts of depression and anxiety in my life, things really got monumental after I had a child. It's like whatever I felt before, intensified ten fold, both the joyful and the sad. So I guess, this book is all the more relevant to me now.
The thing with my husband is ok for now. Some lines of communication have opened. It will be ok. My bubs, well he is having some problems right now at school. Not sure if I am happy about the way the school is handling it, not sure how I am handling it. I realized last night while therapeutically crying my eyes out watching 'Celebrity Rehab', that this is just the way things are right now, I am fearful, it's making me sad, but I am not always going to feel this way, I am not alone, and this too shall pass.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Home from the theee a ter.

So we went to Ice Capades last night and we survived. I tend to look at these events as a risk, purely because I carry my own expectations of how things should go, how bubs should be, and generally, that's not the best way to take a risk. I guess I tend to take 'calculated risks'. That's only fair when the expectations are on me solely, not on another human being, particularly a little unpredictable four year old human being.
Putting my neurosis, expectations, yada yada, aside, I think we all had a great time. Bubs was entranced by the whole newness of it all. Going out after it's dark out, to a huge arena, the vendors (oh the vendors!) and all the people. As soon as we got in the doors we located the essential angler fish flashlight (a total bargain at only 18 dollars!). Then on the way to our seats, bubs asked for a sno cone in the collectible nemo cup. I had no idea he even knew what a sno cone was called. So ten bucks and one uneaten drippy sno cone later, we headed to our seats. Once seated, bubs was so excited to see all the people, not knowing what to expect. I was really afraid he wouldn't be able to sit, it's really hard for him to sit still for longer than, oh , two minutes. He did great with this. Once the show started he really seemed to be enjoying it. I think it confused him when everyone clapped after the first big number. He asked if it was over, which I thought was a valid question although I was afraid it meant that he wanted it to be over. He knows the story of Nemo, we can all quote lines from it because it was bubs' first introduction to the wonders of the sea. I don't know if he was following the story line, but he knew all of the characters. So yeah, I think he liked it, no tantrums were thrown, even when he asked for cotton candy (with the collectible nemo hat attached) and we politely declined. Not a verbal protest in sight. There was a little stimming, which is my fault because we need to get him a haircut. He has been shaking his head from side to side to feel his hair move and then visually tracking the bangs, which are too long. That can be taken care of quite easily and it will a.s.a.p. But that was it.

As far as the show goes, I have a very soft spot in my heart for Nemo- my bubs is my little nemo with his one short little fin. I also relate well to Marlin, we think alike. I got a little teary in the beginning of the show realizing that we were sitting there doing something I never thought we'd be able to do. I also got a little teary when Nemo and Dory were stuck in the mouth of the whale and Dory said that it was time for Marlin to let go. I agree with her.

Saturday, January 12, 2008

Just keep swimming...


On a lighter note, in about a half an hour we are packing up the family unit and heading on over to our local arena for a rousing night of consumerism! We are going to see "Nemo on Ice". It's uncharted waters for us with regards to shows and stuff. The last time I attempted this was when bubs was 18 months old and we went to see some elmo fiasco. Bubs was watching tv one night and a commercial came on for the ice capades and he expressed interest in it. So I took a chance and got us 3 tickets for tonight. Considering the most exciting thing we do as a family these days is food shopping, I have been really looking forward to it. I think Bubs is too and I really hope he enjoys it! I hear they have an angler fish flashlight, which will be one of the highlights (hmm, no pun intended) of the evening.

Friday, January 11, 2008

Someone give this lady a xanax-STAT!

Ok, it's official, I have lost my ever loving mind. Let's preface this by saying it's been an unusually emotional day for some reason (is mars in retrograde or something?). Bubs goes to a 'typical' preschool three afternoons a week, with one of the assistant teachers going with him as a shadow. It must be said that this girl is a sweetheart, we love her, she is awesome. I am not particularly close with any of the moms, it's probably me and my neurosis, but I much prefer school socializing with my autism peeps. It might not be outrageous to say I have a wee chip on my shoulder, or perhaps I am just defensive. I am working on this as a person. I think I need to heal a chakra or two. At any rate, I just go and pick him up and get the hell out of there as fast as I can.
Today I was waiting on the line in front of the classroom to pick up bubs. Usually I am first, but today I wasn't. There is a little counter with the kid's mailboxes on it. Each kid has a little slot. I notice that all of the slots except for two have what look like party invites in them. I look and look and I notice that my bubs and this other kid don't have invites. The other kid happens to have a few issues (not dx with anything), but I know this from bubs' shadow that he has some trouble getting along with others. So at first a slight panic comes over me. Then I get angry, then I get hurt. How could these mean cruel mothers do this to MY SON! I am serious when I say that I had tears welling up in my eyes. I finally get to sign my precious child out of this godforsaken class and I was doubly relieved to see bubs' shadow give me the thumbs up signal from the corner of the room, letting me know that he was a 'good listener' and we could proceed to Michael's (arts and crafts store) to pick out and purchase desired reinforcers (today's pick was a gila monster and an octopus).
So we hustle out the door and I strap bubs in and wait patiently for beloved shadow to come out after all the parents have left the parking lot. I wonder if this is really worth the effort to continue this little charade at this point. I am trying to hold my tears back when I say 'I noticed the other children got party invites and bubs' cubby was empty'. She proceeded to pull out the invite out of her pocket and said that she held it for bubs because he wanted to open it and she didn't want him to in class. I felt like a big stupid ass. I also said I noticed 'the other kid' didn't get an invite either and she said it was his party. Duh. Big freakin DUH. I then went on to apologize and tell her that she must think I am a total nutjob. She being the complete angel that she is, smiled and told me she couldn't even begin to understand what I am going through and that she knows how worried I am. She told me that none of the kids would ever exclude bubs from a party and that they all love him. I just kept on feeling like a big ass.
I seriously need to start meditating. Not to get all new age on you, but this kind of thinking brings you nothing but bad energy.

My spirtual game of whack a mole

I truly believe that everything happens for a reason. Perhaps that is my faith, my religion or my reason for getting up in the morning, what have you. I struggle with control issues, big time. I know I have passed that trait on to my son. I have managed to get by, and I worry about how he is going to fare in this world. Not just because of his control issues,and somehow- asd aside (if that could ever be possible) I think it's a mother's job to worry. It's amazing since I am also a black belt at worrying, that I never really considered before becoming pregnant,the entirely vast realm of worry I would encounter as a mother. Ahh, who am I kidding, you could never prepare for this.
I think I am freaking out because kindergarten is looming on the horizon and I can't tell if it's the Goodyear blimp or a b-12 bomber. I am being told by the powers that be that bubs won't be able to attend his current school over the summer. That wasn't the situation I had in my head. I thought he would continue along and seamlessly transition to his new school in September. Wrong. So this change of plans is causing me much anxiety and all these questions keep popping up in my head regarding what the hell is going to happen for us. I am constantly having a mental argument with myself, like a mini cpse meeting going on with me coming up with all of these reasons why bubs needs to have his summer services. This in turn is causing me to focus in on all of bubs's weaknesses instead of strengths which in turn is causing me great angst. He is doing so well, working so hard and yet I am unable to remember the specifics of those at this particular moment in time. I am too busy seeing him lose his shit during his after school gym class, and not be able to sit in one place longer than five seconds, and shake his head back and forth visually tracking his bangs on his face. Agggggh, I hate this. Hate this!!!!

My poor bubs. I have got to get a grip on it. Yesterday he got off the bus so distraught. He usually skips off the bus and asks 'where are we going today?' but he was unusually quiet and reserved. I asked him how school was and he didn't say anything. I asked again (I guess that's where he gets it from) and he said 'I wasn't good at circle time today, I didn't get treasure box, I was sad, I cried'. My poor bubs. I think he too is feeling the pressure. I tried to get more info out of him, mainly if he was a good friend. I wanted to make sure he wasn't 'cha cha-ing' his friend or knocking down their block creations. He said he was. I later found out he was running around like a loony bird during musical chairs. The big problem came when they told him he wasn't getting treasure box. He flipped out. I think that is what he felt most bad about. While I felt terrible about this, I had to stop and remind myself that a year ago he wouldn't have been able to tell me that he actually went to circle time let alone how he felt about it.

Monday, January 7, 2008

My son has an internal cha cha


I don't know if I can explain this correctly. People that know bubs know exactly what I am talking about when I say he has an internal cha cha thing happening. It's like he has his own rhythm or pace and it's kind of like his own internal metronome. It starts at six a.m. when he is laying next to me on the bed completely incapable of not hitting or tapping me, to the ever present 'da da da-da da -dah'. I cannot seem to get him to stop smacking me around. It's really driving me nuts. It's not in anger, it's just something he does. I probably said 'stop that' too many times and it has now been elevated to 'attention seeking' status which is a royal pain in the ass to get rid of. Ok, so after I have been sufficiently abused out of my sleep deprived coma, we come downstairs and on the way down the steps bubs is singing a song, what kind of song you ask? Well it's a made up song, consisting of one word sung to the rhythm of da da da-da da dah, this morning in particular it was 'welcome welcome wel-come'. It seems to be pervasive (how's that for a word). We even have one for 'pee pee on the pot-ty'. I was thinking about this today, and wondering if I had some kind of internal theme happening for myself. Mine is like something that is need of new batteries, like the clock that runs really fast and then the next moment really slow. I guess I have a wonky metronome running my show. All I know is, there's no cha cha goin on.

Saturday, January 5, 2008

'I'll be playing here all week'-vol 2, the junior version


My son likes to get up at the ass crack of dawn. He does not take after me in this respect. So this morning at 6 a.m. I am awakened by a figure standing very close to my head. Oh, I know that kid. So I scoop him up and place him so Oedipusly (or 'Electra-ish, whichever made up word you prefer) in between me and the husband. He is squirming and moving and tapping me and singing. He is basically trying anything to get our attention. Finally after a nice long thirty seconds of silence, we hear 'knock knock'. I know I am half in a coma, so I can guess big daddy is as well. 'Um, I said, knock knock', the little voice in between us says. 'KNOCK KNOCK' , one last time, slightly louder than the last two. So we oblige- 'who's there?'. 'Orange' he says. 'Orange who?', says us. 'Orange you going to get up and play with me?'. Perhaps I should teach him my tom jones joke?