Some Thoughts on Another Exciting Morning...

...In the Life of Laura

This morning started out relatively well. If you take morning at its literal sense, I started it in a tub of cold water (which had been quite hot at 11 pm, but strangely enough, not so hot at 1 am) with a book. It's a library book that is due at the end of the month, when we won't be in town, and I don't know if I should wound my former reader pride by renewing it at the library. (I won the flippin' "Who Read the Most Books This Year" contest in sixth grade! It was a blow out. Come on, Laura! You can't even read one stinkin' book in a month?) But, the book is long, and I'm finally at the middle and the action is picking up. It's one of those books that spends far too many pages dealing with lots of navel gazing characters, and you don't really know if you like any of them, or care enough to read about them for over 400 pages. But, now, since I'm over 200 pages in, I have to finish. I really hate not finishing books after I've invested at least a chapter, let alone 200 pages. Now, Moby Dick is another case all together. Try as I might, I can't get into that bad boy. I've picked it up three times, and managed to make it about 100 pages last time. Maybe some day. I think the only reason I really want to read it is because it's mentioned in the awesome movie Heathers and it's where my home away from home, Starbucks, got its name.

Anyway, this morning, Hutton came in at 8:30 to wake me the first time, asking for "breastfast" (that's how he pronounces it, which is funny, because I used to call it that when the boys were breastfeeding) then about every ten minutes after until I finally got up. Before my final waking, I had a dream that I moved into an apartment that had an amazing view of the downtown Seattle skyline, yet also a great view of the Statue of Liberty, which for some reason, was in a little black cove of water in Lake Washington. I was sharing this apartment with two roommates I don't know in real life, but was thinking, wow, this will really make it faster getting to Hutton's ABA appointments at the UW. The roommates morphed into two of my college roommates at one point. The apartment (or was it a condo?) had cathedral ceilings, and one of my roommates had hung piles of books from the ceiling. I asked her how she did it in the dream, but she never told me. Did she rent scaffolding to get up there? I remember looking up and seeing a book with an artist rendering of some wild animal on the cover, and really wanting to read it, and wondering how Eva got it all the way up on those beams, and how they stayed without falling, as some were not even resting on beams. In the last part of the dream, I was going back to my car to get something. I had realized I hadn't locked the door, and, jeez, I'd even left the window open, and when I got there, sure enough, a man was leaning into the front seat, and his friend, or accomplice waiting by the car. In my dream, I became a crazy woman protecting her things, and I ran up and grabbed the man by the throat, even though I was thinking, "This is stupid. This guy or his friend could have a gun." But, as dreams often do, it worked, and I was able to get the guy out of my car, without his stealing my things. Strangely enough, I don't think I'll ever attempt that in real life if two big men are ever really stealing things from my car. I do have impressive "guns" but I don't think I could really grab a man by the throat. My dream self is quite the bad ass!

I finally got up and went downstairs. The pleasant surprise of the morning: Fergus had not peed on the rug at the bottom of the stairs. Well, he couldn't pee there unless he'd jumped the baby gate, which is now keeping him in the laundry room at night. He is not quite as skilled at jumping as he was as a younger dog -- just a few years ago, he'd have cleared a baby gate with no problems. He also hadn't soiled his doggy diaper or dog bed. Yippee! I was feeling better about leaving the dogs here with a petsitter for our trip. If Fergus can go overnight without having an accident, things are looking up! Of course, my love and pride in Fergus, due to his old dog bladder pulling through, were short-lived. Fergus came back into the house a few minutes later with some sort of animal poop on his muzzle, and as I scrubbed off his face with a baby wipe, I realized it was all over his feet as well. He'd been doing some snacking in the cat litter pile outside. After giving him a bath and cursing him out (don't worry - he's deaf now and could only guess that I was pissed at him by the way I sprayed him down with the bathtub sprayer in such an angry manner) I felt a little less angry, and still glad that he hadn't peed in the house last night. Plus, I felt guilty for having let the thought pass through my mind that I wouldn't have to do this much longer.

Then, finally, breakfast. And now, as I type this, still in my pajamas, I realize I have to shower and go to the grocery store, and Hutton's ABA home therapist arrives in an hour and a half. Hmm, I can probably wait on the grocery store. I only need hot dogs (still!) and snacks for our trip. I have a huge zit forming between my eyebrows I have to tackle with the arsenal of products I keep on hand for such occasions, and that will probably take all the time before the therapist arrives. I love going home for the holidays with zits. It makes me feel like I'm in college again!

I'm Still Alive

My cold is officially gone. Yippee! I spent lots of time snoozing on the couch the past week while the boys watched too much TV. Oh well. It's Christmas time! What better time to spoil your children with lack of parenting, right?

Hutton has had ups and downs. Friday, he had a perfect ABA session. Today, not so much. He didn't earn all of his checks (on his chart) and was very upset, then started saying he needed medicine and ate something he shouldn't have. Hmm. I couldn't get him to tell me what he ate that he shouldn't have, though.

Harrison has managed to use the potty instead of his pants today. Yeah! Fergus, the dog, used the rug at the bottom of the stairs instead of going outside, this morning. Booo! I bought him a diaper wrap for dogs, but he managed to wriggle his male dog parts out enough so that he could pee freely on the rug. Oh well. I think we'll need to invest in some new throw rugs in 2008.

We have our big trip to Nashville on Friday. Our first flight this year with the boys. It's a four and a half hour direct flight. Hope the DVDs work their magic! The boys are very excited to see Gogo (my mom). Next week, we'll drive to Pensacola, FL from Nashville to see Hubby's family. Eight hours in the car. Hmm. Again, hope the DVDs work their magic! The boys received some giftcards from my great-aunt and uncle last week that we used to purchase a bunch of DVDs, so we shall see.

Not much else to report. It's raining and cold. I don't feel like cooking. I will be using the out of town trip as an excuse to avoid cooking this week. Oh, I don't want to go to the grocery store and have food left in the fridge. Except...crap! We're out of hot dogs! There goes my fave lazy mother dinner -- gluten and casein free hot dogs for the boys, frozen pizza for me and hubby. Yeah, I'm super mom!

I Have a Cold. Whine, Whine, Whine.

Waaa! Poor me! I am stuffed up of sinus and tired from not sleeping well. I kept an ear out to listen for our old dog, Fergus, needing to go out during the night, and when I was able to sleep, I'd wake up to have to go wipe my nose and go between being sweaty and freezing.

Fergus is 14 and a half. He's been having lots of accidents the past few days, and I'm wondering if I should humiliate him in his old age by making him wear diapers. I mean, it's not as if our carpeting isn't beyond help anyway. What's a few hundred more pee stains to clean? Yesterday I washed two throw rugs, then when those were all fresh and clean, Harrison called out about his socks being wet, and I found another wet spot in the carpet upstairs. Then another a couple of hours later. This morning, at least, Fergus managed to pee in the middle of the wood floor, and didn't get any on the newly washed rug. Amazing! It's not as if I don't let Fergus out several times a day. It's possible he's just lazy and doesn't want to go out in the cold. Sigh. Between that and the "potty trained" Harrison ("No, I don't need to use the bathroom!" Ten minutes later: "No, I didn't pee in my pants. Oh, wait, I did.") I've been doing lots of laundry.

Yawn. Time to go get some more coffee. Or maybe I should be good and drink something hydrating. Hmm. If I can park the boys in front of the TV after lunch, I may be able to take a nap. Still, I have to actually make it to lunch. Decisions, decisions.

The Christmas Card Photo Shoot

This evening, I started a fire in the fireplace. Hutton has been asking me to "turn on the fireplace" all week, so I finally complied. Of course, we don't have a handy gas fireplace, that can be started with the flip of a switch. Nope, our involves all the campfire skills I never had. I got a fire going for a short time, and now our house smells like the interior of a wood stove. That's OK, though! Hutton enjoyed the fire!

So, as the fire was going, I thought, "Hmm, this would be a cute picture for the Christmas cards, since I haven't gotten around to taking any yet." I ran and grabbed my camera, handed the boys their stockings, and starting clicking away.

Twenty minutes, a hundred pictures, and numerous mumbled curses at the slowness of my camera's shutter speed later, I sat down to pick a picture. Lots of blurry shots, a few dark ones, and several bad shots were deleted immediately. The rest I slowly went through, saving ones I liked or thought were funny, then going through twice more, further culling the stack.

Now, I present you the select few pictures I thought were funny or cute, and the select one I will use for my card. (Click on a picture for a larger version, complete with oh-so-witty captioning.)


Oh, and for my eagle-eyed readers, you will notice that Hutton's stocking is, indeed, the stocking featured in the Land's End catalog from this post. Now, did my BFF get a good deal on that one a few years ago because Hutton's name was already on it? I kid!

You Heard It Here First

Continuing with my weird dream theme, the other night I dreamt that I called Burger King to give them an order. That's bizarre for many reasons, including: 1. One doesn't call in orders to fast food restaurants, since the food is ready in, and only edible for, a few minutes. 2. I haven't been in a Burger King in at least five years. 3. Fast food restaurants in general are not something easily pulled off in my world of gluten and casein-free eating. Though I could eat there when I'm by myself, I don't usually go for fast food at 9:30 a.m. (when my child-free time usually starts, after dropping Harrison off at school), though I was intrigued by the ad for the new breakfast burrito at McDonald's. Nah, I'll just stick with my latte or mocha breakfast.*

Anyway, I head to Burger King to get my food, and there's some confusion about where my order is, and they have to re-make it. In the meantime, I ask for their flight menu, and sit down to compare the prices between Burger King and McDonald's for airplane flights. Yes, that's right. In my dream, both Burger King and McDonald's, in addition to their fast food, now offer flights. I don't know if they go internationally yet, but I'm sure they're looking into it.

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* The latte or mocha breakfast -- Sirius, the espresso machine, is acting squirrelly again. The coffee grounds, which the machine deposits into a little container after brewing, have been wet and crumbly, instead of dry and puck-like. As many parents of kids with Autism know, you can tell a lot about what's going on in a child, or machine, by looking at the state of the waste. There have been a lot of water drips inside Sirius, as well. I'm hoping that after I decalcify Sirius, things will work well again. I ordered the decalcification tablets online, and hope they arrive soon!

Other than that, our microwave is working again, for the low price of $300 (labor only - the parts were under warranty!). I have the Christmas decorations out, and it snowed yesterday, so it's looking festive around here.

Matt-Dreamy

The following events really happened. In my head, that is. I had a dream last night the featured my blogger friend, Matt-Man, of Bag Wine Ruminations. Sorry, Matt-Man, it wasn't that kind of dream. It was a normal, er, weird one.

I was sitting down at a table in a restaurant. My stepsister walked in and we chatted for a minute. Her husband was due to arrive in a few minutes with their baby. Next, Matt-Man walked in and sat down. It was odd to see these two people together, as they have only one thing in common - me. (My dream brain worked on it and figured out we must have been in Seattle, and the reason Matt-Man was in town was to visit Allie, and he'd driven up to meet me, too.) So, I introduce my stepsister to Matt-Man, and my sister walks in and sits down. More introductions. Next to show at the bizarro family dinner? My grandmother. Who died in 2000. Hmm. For some reason, this works in the dream, but I'm not concerned about the fact that my grandmother died seven years ago, but that she'll start asking Matt-Man about his earring and ask questions about how I know him and find out about my blog. That doesn't have a chance to happen, though, because an attractive Asian couple sits down at the other end of the table. I have no idea who either of them is, but the rest of the table seems to know them. The lady puts a bottle of medication on the table and announces that she won't be able to drink with dinner because of her medication, for her brain hemorrhaging. At that point, I wake up.

I have no idea what any of that means, other than I don't want my deceased grandmother reading my blog. So, B'er (yeah, it's our strange family name for her, pronounced Bee-uh), please respect my privacy! Unless you want to start your own blog. In that case, I'll add you to the list on the side there, and we can be blog-buddies.

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Actually, I had dinner at my BFF's house yesterday, and we were talking about blogs, including her brother's, which I read. He had a weird post about mind reading. We also talked about these dolls BFF is into. I can't really make fun, since I have a gazillion (yes, literally!) Fisher Price Little People toys. BFF was telling me about the different face molds available for these dolls, and how lots of people liked to get the Asian face mold with blue eyes, which I thought was weird, but that's probably why the Asian couple showed up in the dream. But they had brown eyes, not blue.

The Autism Ups and Downs

Yesterday morning, Hutton came and crawled into bed with me and Hubby when it was still dark out. I didn't really mind, though I knew I wouldn't get much sleep, as Hutton tends to wriggle and talk if he comes up to snuggle. A little while later, I heard Harrison coming upstairs. Hutton sat up in bed, and said, "Harrison's awake! Hutton's going to go play with Harrison!" And he did just that.

Now, apart from the use of third person, much like Sesame Street's Elmo, this was an amazing sentence to hear from Hutton. These longer sentences (and even ones using the first person - I!- are becoming much more common, and I love to hear them. I feel great, thinking, "Wow, maybe we're finally getting...there."

There - the magical place. Where is there? Is it full recovery? Or is it halfway to recovery? Just a little bit better? I don't know. Just being on the road to recovery might be enough.

Or so I thought.

This morning, as I put Hutton on the bus to school, the bus driver said, "Hutton's been having a rough time at school. The teachers thought it might be from the Thanksgiving excitement, or switching schedules around. But he had a tough day yesterday, too." I felt my upbeat attitude sinking into a pit in my chest, as I muttered, "Yeah, it never ends."

I got off the bus and headed home to get Harrison, who had stayed home to finish breakfast with Hubby. I thought about the possibility of homeschooling Hutton. Would it help? He wouldn't have the peer interaction of school, but he and Harrison play well together, and Hutton loves to have playdates with friends. I figured that wasn't really an option, as I'd probably just go crazy trying to homeschool my children. I can't even function normally on days they go to school.

A few minutes later, as Harrison and I drove down the street to run errands, we saw a big yellow school bus turning the corner. "There's Hutton's bus!" Harrison called out.

"No, that's not Hutton's bus. He rides on the short bus," I said, watching the bus of elementary school kids round the corner, looking at the little faces looking back at me. Will Hutton ever get off the short bus? Get to ride the big bus? Are we even on the same road the big bus runs on?


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UP-Date (emphasis on UP)

Hutton's teacher just called. I felt my heart stop, wondering what horrible thing had happened at school. Then she said, "Hutton has had a great day at school, and he earned enough checks to call you!" Back story: At his parent-teacher conference two weeks ago, I gave Hutton's teachers the token sheet we use for his home therapy. If he earns enough checks on his chart for good behaviors like sitting quietly when asked, following instructions, etc., he gets to work for something of his choice. At home, he likes to call people on the phone as his reward. So, he earned his checks at school and wanted to call me! I told him I was glad he was having a good day at school and earning checks, and then Harrison said hi to Hutton as well. We're back to the up/positive position on the Autism meter. Let's hope it continues!

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Just in case you schadenfreudists are down, thinking everything is going too well, don't worry. The gods of small appliances are still fighting me. The microwave repairman is due sometime between 1 and 5 today, and charges $79 off the bat, and that's before he figures out what's wrong with the microwave. (You know, the microwave that is the top part of our microwave/convection oven combo, that can't be cheaply replaced, though we did buy a cheap microwave to fill in until our built-in one is repaired.) And...and...the appliance ill that cuts me to the core...SIRIUS is acting up. Sirius, the espresso machine, has started pumping out coffee-colored water in place of coffee the past two days. I've cleaned the machine, tried new beans, made about ten cups of brown hot water, and searched online for advice, but am at a loss. I really don't need to spend more money having my espresso machine repaired. Sigh. At least I got some mochas this morning doing my secret shopping.

Trendy Name?

I named my beautiful son, Hutton, after my late grandmother. Hutton was her middle name, as well as her father's (my great-grandfather's) middle name. I liked the name because it was classic yet not too old-fashioned, nor was it a popular name, that would be very common among classmates.

Sometimes people will mishear it as Hunter or Hunton (or maybe they think we named him, "Huntin'?" How's that for a good Southern redneck name?!), but that's OK.

Today, I happened to see an advertisement email from Land's End, the mail order catalog, and opened it to see if there were any good Christmas gifts. I saw this:

Check out the top right corner. Yeah, we've got a bag just like that in Hutton's closet, a gift from my mother-in-law a few years ago! Come to think of it, the stocking in the middle is also one we own, with Hutton's name written on it. Hmm....

Turning the Corner

OK, I've officially turned the corner. The bad crap is officially over. I refuse to let anything else break in my home, and when it does, I will NOT get upset.

Yesterday afternoon, after we returned home from getting new tires on my car, as well as a new, working microwave to use until our old one is repaired (we wouldn't bother spending the money to repair it, except our microwave and convection oven are one combined unit, built-in in our kitchen, so replacing the whole thing would be too expensive!), one of our garage doors broke. Now, the garage door opener broke last month, and Hubby replaced it with two new ones (the previous owners of our home had rigged the garage doors so they were hooked together and used one opener, but Hubby returned it to a normal state - two doors, no connection, two openers) and everything was going well. Then, the spring on the door broke. So, after an afternoon spent spending money we don't have to spend to replace broken stuff, Hubby went to Home Depot to buy a new garage door spring. As he was fixing the door, I checked in on him, and he suddenly started throwing an adult tantrum. Yeah, I do that myself, so I can't blame him. He'd dropped a bolt, and it bounced off the toolbox, and disappeared into the pit of our garage. Was it under the plastic shelving unit, hiding in some pine needles and dog hair dust bunnies? Or did it bounce over under that pile of muddy shoes? Who knows! Hubby announced he was finished fixing broken shit that weekend, and stormed upstairs to play Halo. Fine with me. I was tired of fixing shit, too! I left my car, with the purty new tires, parked outside, and cleaned up the garage a bit.

This morning everything went well. The boys were up early and dressed themselves. We got Harrison dropped off at school, then Hutton accompanied me to get some coffee. We went to Value Village looking for a cheap bookshelf, which they didn't have, but they did have a very cool sandbox for $20, so we bought that. It's a combination sand/water table with a cover, and it has legs and a drain. Hutton was very excited to have a sandbox just like his friend Amy's. Then, we went to the grocery store and got a nice little turkey and some other Thanksgiving grub. I'm over my Thanksgiving funk, too, and I'm actually excited to make cranberry sauce, stuffing and sweet potatoes on Thursday. We'll cook the turkey in our grill, like we did last year, and I'm sure it will turn out well!

This afternoon, Harrison pooped on the potty. Yippee! I'm going to go make rice crispy treats now.

Still in the Midst of My Existential Crisis

Well, it's mostly the day to day crap -- literal and figurative -- still getting me down.

Yesterday was actually pretty good. I got my tires all inflated without blowing myself up. Hutton had a school conference that didn't go too badly. I didn't find the missing lug nut key from my car, though. It wasn't in my car or in the parking lot of Fred Meyer on Thursday afternoon or Friday morning when I checked. Hubby came home from his trip last night in time to see the boys before bedtime.

Today is back to the crap. Hubby double-checked for the missing lug nut key. (My car wheels have a "special" anti-theft lug nut, which needs a special tool to remove it. You know, because my tires are always getting stolen when I'm running errands in the 'burbs. Anyway, the special tool got lost in the hubbub of my tire change the other day. It's possible the man who helped me change it put it in his pocket, or left it on the curb, etc. Who knows.) It's gone though, and Hubby was nice enough to point out when I asked if he had any luck finding it, "No, but I'm sure it will only cost $200 to replace it." Yes, Hubby, I always need to feel worse about my screw-ups.

So, he left to go get a new tool from the car dealership, and asked me to call for service to our microwave while he was gone. I just did that. They'll be out Tuesday, Nov. 27th sometime between 1 and 5, and will charge us $79.99 for the service call, not including what it costs to actually fix the microwave. Did I mention how much I love cooking the old-fashioned way? No? Wait, I don't like cooking the old-fashioned way. I don't like cooking at all, in fact. I just miss being able to heat up my coffee without running the risk of shattering my favorite mugs, or being able to get Hutton's special nitrate/nitrite free hotdogs cooked that much faster at lunch time. I don't feel like cooking for Thanksgiving as it is. This just cements it for me. I don't enjoy celebrating Thanksgiving with just immediate family. It doesn't feel like a real holiday to me unless there are other guests in the house. I love my kids and Hubby (sometimes), but don't really want to bust my butt all day making a meal that only two of us will possibly enjoy.

Sigh.

Hutton slid on the bathroom rug yesterday and hit his eye on the corner of the bathroom vanity, and now has a cut and partial black eye. At least that happened after his school conference, and since he doesn't have school next week, hopefully it will be healed before he goes back. Hopeful, yeah, that's me. Full of optimism and cheer.

Life Is Shit

Well, you'd think that after Tuesday's sad post, I'd be thinking, "Life is beautiful. I must live life to its fullest, enjoy every moment I've been given." Nu-uh. I'm doing some self-centered dwelling on my own problems.

Today started with my car getting a flat tire. Luckily, I was able to drive to the parking lot of a store nearby. I attempted to change the tire. The lug nuts wouldn't budge, even when I was standing, then jumping up and down on the lug wrench. Of course, my cell phone wasn't in my car, so I got Hutton, who didn't have school today, out of the car and went in the store to try to call Hubby. I only had a quarter, and the pay phone cost fifty cents. I had a calling card, so tried that. No go. Apparently the calling card was expired. Got change for a dollar, and called again. Voice mail. Went back to the car, and danced on the lug wrench again. Nothing. Back to phone, left message for Hubby with the number of the pay phone at the store. A man saw me and had seen my issue outside, and asked if he could help. Yes, please!

He got the lug nuts loosened, by standing on the wrench himself, and apparently the extra 50 pounds or so did the trick. He even got the fancy anti-theft lug nut off, and the car jacked up. The tire wouldn't come off. I turned the steering wheel a few times, trying to straighten the wheel, and the car fell off the jack. Fortunately, no one was hurt, and the falling car apparently loosened the tire enough that it was able to come off. The nice man changed my tire for me, and I got the flat tire and tools thrown back in the car and thanked him profusely, then drove home. Left another message for Hubby that someone helped change my tire, and asked where I should get a new tire, as my old one had a hole on the side and wasn't repairable. I picked up Harrison, and Hubby called back. He was on his way to the airport, and sorry he missed my call. I'd forgotten about his overnight business trip. He told me the full size spare would be fine until this weekend, just to fill it with air.

I went home again to use our air compressor to add air to the spare tire. I then scared the crap out of myself when the air compressor stopped, and I pulled a random lever, and it suddenly blasted a bunch of air out and started again. I decided not to fill the other three tires, since I couldn't decipher the PSI information inside the gas tank and I'd already caused my heart to stop once with the air compressor already. I didn't want to blow myself up, leaving the boys and pets without food until Friday night, when Hubby comes home. I put the jack and other tools back in the trunk, but realized the special anti-theft lug nut removal tool was missing. Great.

I went upstairs to do some online research on tire PSI and where to find a replacement lug nut tool, when I heard Harrison crying downstairs. I went downstairs to find Harrison standing in his room, pantsless, with a circle of liquid poop around him. Much like the air compressor, steam blasted out of my ears at that point. I picked up Harrison and deposited him in the bathtub, where I sprayed him off, then told him to stay put while I surveyed the damage. Apparently, Harrison had made it to the bathroom, took off his pants, but still managed to poop in his underwear. Then, instead of finishing on the potty, he ran to his room, trying to hold everything in while he got some new underwear. Guess that didn't work. I deduced this from the trail of poop from the bathroom.

Oh yeah, our dishwasher door is cracked, from a few weeks back. I ordered a spare part and replaced that, so it runs, but it still needs a new liner. Plus, our microwave stopped working this past weekend. These are both lovely GE appliances from our kitchen remodel seven years ago. (My Dad worked for GE in the 70s, doing something with industrial batteries. I have it in my head that his working with toxic materials in the 70s is part of the reason he got cancer and died at age 58.) Bad things seems to happen in cycles for me. Can this cycle please end now? My theme song always returns to this one.
W
hich brings me to another song I heard today, shortly before my tire went flat. I was thinking about this song as I drove to get Harrison with the spare tire on. I don't know if I believe in reincarnation or not, but I think I must have been a child molester, murderer or rapist in a past life. Maybe all three. That's the only way to account for the really crappy spells in life. In my next life I'd like to be a happy bunny rabbit, or a butterfly, or something nice like that. Of course, I'd probably be eaten by a predator right off the bat. Siiiiiggghhhh. Serenity now! Back to PSI research. And perhaps another trip to the Fred Meyer parking lot to see if I can find the lug nut tool attachment.

Goodbye, Carmen

My blog friend, Carmen, of Good Times and Boxed Whine, passed away last month from complications of scleroderma. She was on a list for a lung transplant, and dreaming of a second chance at life, without needing to cart around an oxygen tank. She was only 34 years old, the age I am now, feeling young and somewhat invincible until I thought, "Hmm, I haven't read Carmen's blog in a while. Think I'll head over and see how she's doing."

As I read the blog posts at the end of October, I started to cry and said aloud, "I'm so sorry Carmen! I miss you!" I felt so sad for Carmen and her family, and guilty for being a bad blog friend and not having visited her blog recently.

Carmen leaves behind a husband and son, Dominic. Please keep them in your thoughts and prayers, and go over to read some of Carmen's blog and see what a wonderful, positive, thoughtful person she was. The song that plays as you enter, Time of Your Life, is very fitting.

Sink Your Teeth into This

The latest happening:


Hutton lost his first tooth today! We were driving around this afternoon, and he was eating a chewy granola bar in the car, and started to complain about his tooth being broken. When we stopped, I looked at it, and realized it was loose. Hutton wasn't too happy about it, even though I explained about the Tooth Fairy (yeah, I did all that crazy nonsense!).

We called my mom to share the news, and she shared some news of her own. Apparently, my cousin and his wife are getting divorced. Cousin's wife took the two kids (2 and 4 months) with her out of town with her for the weekend, and when she came back, asked Cousin why he'd changed the sheets on the bed. Answer: Because I had someone here when you were gone. Asshole of the Year Award goes to my cousin! Well, I really don't know much about their relationship, but I think having an affair, or even a meaningless fling, when you have a four month old son is craptacular.

When we got home, Hutton was still wiggling the tooth, and it popped out right after I got the extreme close-up shot. Then, I took the blurry second shot. Now I have to figure out what to have the Tooth Fairy put under the pillow. Dental floss perhaps? Just kidding, though I do have some on my desk from my visit to the dentist last week.

Slogging Along

This week, the focus has been on trying to update the website my mother and cousin had me set up for my late uncle's artwork, Shades of Zade. The past year it has been languishing, as the current webhost has horrific customer service, and I couldn't get the site updated. Never, never, never use Name2Host. They truly suck donkey balls. Metaphorically, of course. I switched to HostMonster, for hosting at least, and they are awesome! Today, out of the blue, a real, live, human person called me to confirm the switch and see if I had any questions. Wow! I need to figure out how to switch the domain to them, as well, because they've been so amazingly easy to use. I mean, I found the information and got the site switched over and working in less than a day. And that's on Laura Work Time, meaning 20 minutes here and there in the afternoon, in between playing with the boys, feeding them, trying to get our computer printer to work so I could print out something for Hutton's school, etc.

I still have some snags on the site to work out, as I made it several years ago on FrontPage, which is now pretty outdated, and I can't get some things working right, as I forgot what very little I ever knew about HTML within a year of making the site. My main issue is to get the domain away from Sucktastic Servers, er, Name2Host, but they conveniently enough do not return emails or phone calls. I tried to transfer the domain last year, and it didn't go through. This year, I started a month in advance, and so far, Name2Host has not responded to any of my requests. I think their modus operandi is, "Don't ever engage in customer contact after signing them into Domain ownership. That way, when the domain is up for re-enrollment, they can't transfer it away because there's no way to do it without us. They'll have to re-enroll, rather than letting the domain run out and be charged a lot more to get it back." Sigh. Yes, Name2Host, you truly outdo yourself in douchbaggery. I'm going to write my fifth email today asking for the EPP authorization code so I can transfer the domain. Yeah, I'm sure this one will be answered.

Other than that, I'm looking for a pet/house sitter to come out for the holidays to watch the brood. I figured that would be cheaper and easier than taking them all to a kennel. Plus, I don't think Sally will be very excited to go to a kennel ever again after last year., when she ended up with a herniated disk in her neck. Sure, it could have happened anywhere, but it happened at a kennel, so after paying the $700 for the kennel, we had to pay $4500 for vet bills. Ahh. Good times. Hopefully this year, we won't have pet bills that cost more than our holiday travels.

We're going to go to Nashville again for Christmas, and probably drive to Charlotte to meet our new niece, and down to Pensacola to visit Hubby's family. I'm already dreading it a bit, but I'd be bummed if we didn't visit family over the holidays. As it is, this week has felt very lonely, as Hutton's ABA therapist #1 is on maternity leave, and #2 went on vacation and will be gone next week. The week following is Thanksgiving, when Hutton is out of school the whole week, but it's too expensive to travel two months in a row, so we'll stay here. I miss my dad at these times, as he and my stepmother used to come up here for Thanksgiving, and I like spending holidays with family, but this year it will just be me, Hubby, and the boys again. I think I'm getting the winter blahs already. The fact that it's gray and almost dark at 4:00 might have something to do with it.

Oh, Hutton and Harrison decided to fix the lights. We have some old, crappy track lights in our office that have been burned out for a long time. The boys stacked up some plastic storage boxes in a very precarious way, and have their tool kit out. It's very cute. At least until the plastic boxes crash to the ground.

Huttonisms

Hutton just asked to watch "Baby Beef Oven" on DBD. I translated to, "Oh, you want to watch Baby Beethoven? I'll get it down for you!" All of the many, many kiddie DVDs are stored on top of the hutch over my desk. The boys try to climb on my desk to reach them occasionally, which occasionally results in a nice water cleaning of my desk and keyboard, when the glass of water that's usually on my desk gets knocked over. Guess I should move the DVDs down to their level? They can actually put them in the player and are pretty good when they handle them, though we have two DVD cleaners on hand for the inevitable fingerprints and scratches.

Let's see. Hutton also asked this morning for me to get up so we could eat "breastfast." Yeah, he still calls it that, even though I weaned him when he was one.

We Survived Satan's Day of Play!

Hutton in the top half of his costume, or a pirate on casual Friday
Playing bingo at school
Halloween still life with gluten, corn and dairy free rice crispy treats
Cheeky little monkey Harrison
Halloween has come and gone, and we're all here and mostly OK! The title of my post is in reference to a book my BFF shared with me (quite sarcastically mind you!) entitled, "Mommy, Why Don't We Celebrate Halloween? BFF had bought a bunch of Halloween books on ebay, and this little gem was included. I found the book quite amusing, yet horrifying, in that some Christians actually believe Halloween is a devil worship festival and not a fun cultural fall fest handed down by those of Celtic/Irish descent. Well, bring on the pagan ritual, I say!

The Halloween Party Dillemma -- see this post if you don't know what I'm talking about! I found a babysitter on Craigslist (note, the party was thankfully before this sad, sad story happened. Way to make it even harder for people to find babysitters, you crazy douchbag!). I had waited until the last minute, of course, as I think I was secretly trying to undermine myself finding a sitter. But, a week or so before, I started looking, and had about six people say no, so I did look! And it paid off - Sierra was wonderful with Hutton. At the party, there were some kids' activities set up downstairs, and a movie playing upstairs, but Hutton preferred mostly to play hide and seek - going between the same two spots with Sierra following after a few moments. I got to have two drinks and wear a stupid costume. Fun. Afterwards, though the party was fun, it wasn't all that exciting. I only knew a few people there, and after all the turmoil and second-guessing I went through, I don't know if it was really worth it! But I did get to focus some energy on costume-making, which is always fun. Here I am as Dora on Saturday night. I made Hubby dress as the man with the yellow hat from Curious George. And then, since I didn't get a chance to take his picture Saturday, I wore his costume last night for trick-or-treating. So, here I am in drag. Well, sort of. The pants from the costume are actually women's pants, as are the boots. You can't tell, but they're high heel boots ("Sexy boots!" as my BFF said) that a real man in a yellow hat wouldn't be caught dead in. Actually, the man with the yellow hat may prefer to wear women's boots in the comfort of his apartment, or house in the country, and I don't judge him for that. He does live with a monkey, after all!

Halloween Pictures - Uncostumed

Some post trick or treating pictures, or what I like to call, "Sugar High"Crazy Eyes 1
Crazy Eyes 2
Harrison putting Crazy Eyes Glasses on Curious George, while Hutton blows Harrison's hair with light-up ghost fan
Earlier in the day, when Harrison preps for Crazy Hair Day at school.

Keeping Up With Laura

It's been an exciting week here. By exciting I mean, "Look at that paint! Is it dry yet? Nope! Not yet! Keep watching!"

We had an uneventful weekend. Hubby spend it playing Halo 3 with other freaks. Actually, I have no idea if the other players are freaks, but I'm ready to throw the Xbox out the window after Hubby literally spent all weekend playing, and didn't leave the house. I ran errands with the boys Saturday, and picked up lunch for Hubby. I came home and he was still wearing his bathrobe, playing Halo. That night, after I'd made dinner, which Hubby carried upstairs to eat while, once again, playing Halo, I put the boys to bed and did some internet surfing. Hubby told his Halo buddies he was feeling sick and had to turn in. Then, looking glazed, he told me, "I've played too much Halo! I feel sick." I gave him one of my looks, the one that's somewhere between, "Cry me a river" and amusement at his pathetic situation.

The next morning, thank goodness, he was feeling better and was back to a day of Halo. I made him fend for himself for lunch, and ducked out for two hours to get a console table from someone on Craigslist, then to shop at Target, sans children Ahh, sweet therapy. Then, after making dinner, I rearranged furniture all night. It's a weird thing I picked up from my mother. I, along with my siblings, am into redecorating. Even if a room is "perfect", within two years I will change my mind and generally hate everything about it. Thankfully, I can usually get away with just rearranging pictures, furniture, and throwing on a slipcover, rather than buying all new stuff. After I'd moved the couch back and forth, and back to its original position, along with every small table in the three rooms, I called it a night at 1 a.m.

Monday I got payment for some leather pants I sold on ebay. Don't ask me why I had leather pants. I got them on sale in 2001, and never wore them. Strangely enough, after having two kids, I'm not in any position to wear leather pants, not that I was before. So I put them on ebay and they sold. A buyer from Italy won them. But, I discovered after he sent payment and I was trying to print out shipping and customs forms, that importing leather goods into Italy is prohibited. I got freaked out by the thoughts of fines and/or fraud issues and canceled the shipment and refunded the buyer's payment. I don't want to end up out of money or in jail over a pair of pants I sold for $5.99. So, the lesson of the day is, don't sell things on ebay to buyers in Italy. At least not leather. In addition to it being illegal to ship leather pants there, you also cannot ship the following:
(From the US postal service website)

Albums (photographs, postcards, postage stamps, etc.)

Arms and weapons

Articles of platinum or gold; jewelry; and other valuable articles unless sent as insured Priority Mail International parcels.

Artificial flowers and fruits and accessories for them.

Bells and other musical instruments and parts thereof.

Cartridge caps; cartridges.

Clocks and supplies for clocks.

Compound medicaments and medicines.

Coral mounted in any way.

Ether and chloroform.

Exposed photographic and cinematographic films.

Footwear of any kind.

Haberdashery and sewn articles of any kind, including trimmings and lace; handkerchiefs; scarves; shawls, needlework including stockings and gloves; bonnets, caps, and hats of any kind.

Hair and articles made of hair.

Human remains.

Leather goods.

Lighters and their parts, including lighter flints.

Live bees, leeches, and silkworms.

Live plants and animals.

Nutmeg, vanilla; sea salt, rock salt; saffron.

Parasites and predators of harmful insects.

Perfumery goods of all kinds (except soap).

Playing cards of any kind.

Postage stamps in sealed or unsealed First-Class Mail International shipments.

Radioactive materials.

Ribbons for typewriters.

Roasted or ground coffee and its substitutes; roasted chicory.

Saccharine and all products containing saccharine.

Salted, smoked or otherwise prepared meats; fats; and lard.

Tobacco.

Toys not made wholly of wood.

Treated skins and furs.

Weapons of any kind and spare parts for them.

Damn, better cancel those Italian bids on that "Lonely Night In" auction, consisting of a deck of playing cards, lard, some hookworms, chicory coffee (that stuff is awesome! Love Cafe Du Monde!) and a hairshirt I knit from my own and my children's hair. Just kidding. I haven't knit anything from human hair. Yet. Also real hairshirts are normally goat hair or something more itchy than human hair. Just so you know.

Also, if anyone is in the market for some kick-ass leather pants, let me know!

Mornings are FUN!!

Yeah, they're just so gosh-darned WONDERFUL! I love 'em! I love hearing Hubby's alarm clock go off at 7:15, quickly snoozed. Then the garbage truck comes down the street. Then Margene comes up to visit me on the bed, lovely and purring. (That actually is nice, not being sarcastic, but she did keep me from sleeping.) Garbage truck heading back up the street. Should I get up? Nah. Pet Margene some more. Close my eyes and think about things to do today. Sally sees me open my eyes and comes over for a pat. My alarm clock goes off. Turn it off. Pet Sally again, and get up.

Shower. Dress. Realize it's already after eight. Go into the office to find Hutton, who I heard milling around. Tell him to go get dressed, though still in pleasant voice (very rare to hear pleasant voice in the morning before 10 a.m.). Feed cats. Rush downstairs to feed the dogs and wake Harrison up. Harrison smells like poop. Take off poopy diaper, take stinky pajamas into laundry room and douse with Febreeze. Febreeze sheets in his room. I'll deal with them later. Show Harrison some clothes he might want to wear. No go. He's starting to whine. Mornings aren't his thing, either. He wants a striped shirt. I get it for him, and show him the "soft pants" that will match. Nope. He wants different "soft pants." Moving into more angry whining. Leave him to deal with clothes drama.

Make two bowls of cereal for boys. Hutton gets flax seed granola with some Honey Rice Puffins and chocolate almond milk. Harrison gets flax seed granola with Koala Krisp and regular almond milk. Hutton comes in, fully dressed. Hallelujah! I tell him I'm so glad he can get himself ready in the mornings, and can get himself dressed so well. Then I give him some of his supplements and adjust his socks. Harrison has actually dressed himself as well! He's not wearing the striped shirt, but I don't care. He's actually matching and isn't whining anymore! Hallelujah again!

Ask Hutton what kind of snack he wants at school. Trail mix. I point out that he didn't eat any of the trail mix I packed yesterday, except for picking out the chocolate chips to eat. I tell him I'm just going to put the uneaten trail mix back in his backpack, but he doesn't have a complaint. We'll see if he eats it. Run upstairs to brush my teeth and hair. Run back down and tell the boys it's time to go. Do you want to wear boots, Hutton? It's raining! No. I don't know where your brown shoes are, so do you want to wear the new blue ones or rain boots? Here's your jacket. Here, put these blue shoes on. Don't forget your backpack! (More than once we've been running down the street, late for the bus, when I've realized we left the backpack at home.) Harrison, come sit on the stairs and let me put your shoes on. Sit on your bottom, please! Hurry! Put your coat on! No, let me do it. OK, let's run, boys! Hurry!

Run down street. Well, sort of lope, so Harrison can keep up and not get tired. Make it to the end of street and bus still isn't there. Hope that we're early and that we haven't missed the bus. Oh boy! Here it comes! I won't have to drive Hutton to school and make Harrison late for school, as well.

Hutton is on the way to school. Harrison and I amble back home in the rain. Turn on the TV for Harrison to watch while I put on makeup. Come upstairs to find Hubby getting dressed. Yes, he slept through all of my morning rush drama, then took a nice leisurely shower. Asshole Lovely, lucky man. He leaves for work, and I finish getting ready. Let the dogs out and tell Harrison it's time for school. We head to the car. Sally comes into the garage and waits by her crate. Where's Fergus? I back the car out. No Fergus. I get out and run around the house, calling Fergus, which is pointless since he's deaf. No sign of him. Finally, cursing the bleeping dog I mumble he'll have to stay outside in the rain till I get back, and go to put Sally in her crate. Fergus is already inside the crate, waiting. Jeez, didn't see him there. Sally of course, won't go in the crate until I'm right there to nudge her and close it. Rush back to car. Great, we're about ten minutes late for preschool.

I get Harrison into school, wash his hands, and manage to get out without a big separation anxiety mess. Do I hear another Hallelujah? Get in my car, and realize, shock, I don't have anything I need to do. I drive around aimlessly for 15 minutes, listening to the "Nine at 9:00" segment on the morning station I like, then come home. To write it all down! My morning routine. Sigh. Latte. No stress. Nowhere to rush off to in the rain. Another 45 minutes until I get back in the car to go get Harrison, then the afternoon rush starts.

Look Who's Coming Around

So, Nicky, our bitchy cat has been acting, dare I say, friendly lately. She's out and about in the house more frequently, has been hissing less at the dogs and Margene, and even lets Hutton pet her.

Here's the photographic evidence:


Yes, that's Nicky rubbing against Hutton, who has a new buzz cut to mask his Silly Putty-induced bald spot growing in.

Fall Beauty

This weekend we had some lovely fall weather -- was warm and sunny. Now we're back to cold and rainy, and the batteries on our thermostat died yesterday. I replaced them with some I'd recharged recently, and yet none of the recently charged batteries were working. Grr. I put twelve batteries in the charger, but in the meantime took to wearing a down vest in the house to keep warm. Thank goodness this morning the batteries I charged yesterday were ready, so I could get the furnace working again. For some reason, we can't run the furnace if the thermostat batteries die. Not a good thing. Think I'll suck it up and buy some nice Energizer batteries to put in the thermostat, rather than keep having the change the lame rechargeable batteries every week. And did I mention the battery holder on the thermostat is broken, so I have to try to hold the batteries in place, while angling the thermostat back into the holder on the wall? Fun. Oh. Where was I? Oh yes, warm and sunny.

Saturday, the boys and I went out to check for salmon at the creek at the end of our street. We only saw two. Hope there are more next year!

Sunday we went to the nearby "farm" for our annual fall tradition of going through the corn maze and buying a pumpkin. The "farm" is about 27 acres, so not too big, but they always have an acre corn maze and some nice pumpkins for sale, and it's only ten minutes from our house. The corn maze wasn't too high this year, but much more impressive than it was the first year we went, when there was a summer drought and the corn was only about three feet high. Not exactly a challenging maze that year! The maze has ten differently patterned hole punches hidden at various points, and if you find all ten and punch your card, you get a mini pumpkin at the end. So, of course, we had to find all of those. It was fun, though Harrison had some whiny moments. We all made it through, though, and picked out our mini pumpkins (the boys both wanted white ones) and then found a nice big pumpkin for carving.

Friendship...or the Lack Thereof

Something has been weighing on my mind lately. It involves of all things, a Halloween party.

Back story: We have been "friends" with another couple, the Xes, for several years, since we met them on a ski trip the winter after we moved to Washington. We don't hang out that frequently now that both couples have kids, but see each other a few times a year at parties or other get-togethers. Over the years, they have invited us to their annual Halloween parties. Several months ago, Hubby and Mr. X started working together in the same department. Hubby actually told Mr. X about the job. So, they are seeing each other more and are closer friends than they used to be.

Now, onto the weighty issue. This year, we received an invitation to their Halloween party in the mail. I was excited to go. Figure out what the boys would want to wear, come up with costumes for Hubby and myself, you know, the regular party deal. Soon after, Hubby asked if we'd received an invitation, and I told him we had. He then said, "So I was talking to Mr. X., and he mentioned that last year, the babysitters they hired to watch the kids at the party had a hard time dealing with Hutton. So, he asked if we could bring a babysitter for him." I gave Hubby the death glare I wished I could have given Mr. X, but since I couldn't transmit the glare through Hubby, it didn't do much. After a moment of glaring, I said, "Yeah, we weren't invited to their party last year." Hubby said, "Oh, then I guess the year before..."

Hmm. We weren't invited to their party last year. I had invited them all to Hutton's birthday party that summer, but only Mr. X and the younger son showed up. And we hadn't been invited to the party, so I had conned myself into believing maybe they weren't having a party that year, but I think I really knew and felt bad that we weren't invited. But now I know why. Because "the babysitters had trouble with Hutton."

This makes me both angry and sad. I am angry that we are made to feel obligated to hire a babysitter to accompany us to a party, when there will already be babysitters there. But, because our son is apparently so hard to handle, we need to hire one-on-one help. Now, if my BFF had brought this up, I really don't think I'd have a problem with it. If she said, "You know, it might be kinda loud and get crazy at the party, so do you think we should hire a babysitter to keep an eye on Hutton?" I wouldn't blink an eye. I'd probably say, "That's a great idea!" In fact, we did just that at her son's first birthday party this year, as it was a month after Hutton ran away from an outdoor birthday party. So, it makes sense, and I can see why they suggested it, but I still feel angry. I guess I can see how much Hutton has progressed over the summer, and I don't really think he'd need an extra one-on-one sitter to watch him at a party, where both of his parents will be present, as well as at least two babysitters hired by the host family.

And then the sadness kicks in. I feel sad that this is what we have to expect from this family in the future. And I'm sure they won't be the only family of "NTs" who feel this way, who won't want my autistic son at their party unless he is completely reined in by an adult who can devote full attention to him only. I really just wanted to go have fun at a party, but now I don't think I'll be able to do that, knowing we're being silently judged with our "crazy" child running amok.

So, after mulling this over more than it probably needs mulling, I've come up with a lot of cons to attending this party, including that hiring a babysitter, at $20 hour for three hours or so, is going to be a lot money, and Hubby says we need to budget. If we're going to spend that on a babysitter, I'd rather go out on a date than to a Halloween party. In addition, I'll be watching Hutton regardless, to make sure he doesn't eat something he shouldn't. I really don't trust others with this, since apparently one of his teachers has already forgotten about his food issues within a month, and gave him a graham cracker the other day. So, if I'm going to be watching him carefully to make sure he doesn't eat something he shouldn't, why should I pay someone else to watch him, too?

After thinking of these cons, I've come up with the following options:

1. Suck it up. Hire a babysitter and attend party. Pretend to be happy to be there, so Hubby, who will actually enjoy being there, can have some time with his friends.

2. Tell Hubby I couldn't find a babysitter, so he and Harrison should go, and Hutton and I will stay home.

3. Hire a babysitter, have her stay here with the boys, then attend party. Tell hosts, "Well, since we're spending $20 hour on a babysitter, I figured I'd rather the boys get to bed on time. And Hutton has food allergies, so I didn't trust him to not have an infraction, anyway."

4. Have Hubby go to party solo. He can tell the hosts whatever he wants. (My wife hates you now. My family all has small pox....)

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So, what do you think? What would you do? Am I being unreasonable and touchy? Or am I just feeling something only a fellow touchy Autism mom could understand? Give me a vote in your comments!

And I was really getting excited about this Halloween party. I have a great costume idea for myself, but it will remain a secret until Halloween, provided I actually dress up.

Something on Autism

I haven't posted on the big "A" in a while. Believe me, it's still one of the main focuses of my life!

An hour or so ago, I called a local compounding pharmacy to see if they could make Hutton's Methylcobalamin injections. These are also known as MB12, and he's been getting them for about two months now. In that time, his verbal skills have greatly increased, so I think they're a keeper. The downside - I have to give him a shot every three nights. I do it while he's asleep, and the needles are tiny, so he doesn't feel them. The shots are given subcutaneously, into the fat, at a 30 degree angle. The best spot for this subcutaneous fat? The buttocks. Yes, that's right. Every three nights, I sneak into Harrison's room (where Hutton sleeps, too) and attempt to expose enough of Hutton's booty to get the syringe in at an angle, all without waking him. Needless to say, this is hard to do. Most times, he'll wake up as soon as he senses my presence, or what he probably thinks is the Boogie Man hovering over his bed, and flip from his side onto his back, so I have to wait a few minutes for him to go back to sleep, then try to flip him on his side again and hope he stays asleep. If he hadn't had the huge improvement in language, I don't think I'd bother, but there's undeniable progress there. Even his bus driver noticed, after all!

Anyway, the local pharmacy can prepare the shots, and they'll ship them overnight with no additional charge, plus our insurance covers the shots. Hallelujah! One less thing to pay for. The previous pharmacy, in New Jersey, charged us an additional $34 to ship the shots every month. Thirty-four dollars is just a drop in the bucket of our Autism supplements costs, but I'll take what I can get! The new pharmacy is The Falls Pharmacy, and even though they're about a half hour drive, I consider them local! (That's what happens when you live in the boonies.)

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Also going on: I've been reading lots of Autism related books this month.
Completed:
Kenneth Bock, Healing the New Childhood Epidemics: Autism, ADHD, Asthma, and Allergies: The Groundbreaking Program for the 4-A Disorders This book was wonderful. Easy to understand, with lots of the science behind the current treatments for Autism. I definitely feel like we're on the right track after reading it.

Jenny McCarthy, Louder Than Words This was a great, fast read, and I love how Jenny has made the world of biomedical treatments for Autism so mainstream! Her appearance on Oprah a couple of weeks ago led my 82-year-old grandmother to call me, excitedly announcing, "Laura! You have to watch Oprah! There's a woman on taking about Autism! She's talking about that diet stuff you've been doing with Hutton!" I LOVE that! If my grandmother is paying attention, who knows how many other grandparents and other family members are out there learning about Autism and that treatment is possible! Fabulous!

I'm still reading:
John Elder Robinson, Look Me in the Eye This is a great story, and I would have finished it already, but I got distracted with the new fall TV season and with my knitting. It's a lot easier to knit and watch TV than it is to knit and read a book!

Bryan Jepson, Changing the Course of Autism This is another book, like the first one, written by a doctor who treats children with Autism. This one has lots of statistics and more complicated scientific writing that my poor little English major brain can handle easily, so I'll be reading this one for a while. Good thing I bought it, rather than checking it out of the library! Oh yeah, I need to return the Kenneth Bock book to the library. It was due yesterday. D'oh!

Off to go to the library and take Hutton for a haircut. It's picture day tomorrow, and he looks like an early era Beatle, but before they'd grown their hair to mop-top perfection. In other words, he looks like he needs a haircut.

Thomas, Not Again!

OK, Thomas, after the first lead paint recall, your "cheeky little engine" thing was wearing thin. Now, months later, still having not received the replacements for the original toys I sent back due to lead paint, (and that I and my mom and MIL spent a troublesome truck*load of money on!) I see that you're involved in more lead paint shenanigans. Now, I think the "cheeky little engine" is turning into "that bleeping bleepy train!"

Actually, Thomas, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at your parents. Or, rather, the company responsible for making you, or having you manufactured in China and not checking to make sure you and your pals weren't contaminated with lead paint before selling you to a mass market of young kids.

So, have Sir Topham Hatt* tell RC2 Corp. to get on the ball and get this lead paint crap dealt with, because you and your little train friends won't have much of a future outside of the Island of Sodor if this continues!

*Apologies to those who aren't familiar with the characters from Thomas and Friends. Actually, forget that. If you don't know these names, consider yourself very lucky! Then again, I'll take "Thomas and Friends" over that whiny Canadian bastard "Caillou", or those annoying American planes on "Jay Jay the Jet Plane" any day! (See, I have issues will all nationalities of whiny children's programming and toys!)


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Check this site to see if you need to return anything! Better yet, see here for still MORE toys that have been recalled recently. Sigh. I think I need to go through again and make sure I haven't missed any.

We own the Figure Eight set, so now I have to get all the little green bases to signs, as well as all the green maple tree tops and send them all back, since strangely enough, the boys don't keep the pieces all segregated by set and they're all intermingled in the storage bins under the train table.

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UPDATE: A got an email from RC2 Corp., which manufactures the Thomas toys that were recalled. Part of the groveling message of embarrassment and apology about the second big recall in only a few months included a warning that one of the toys sent as an appeasement (my word choice) to angry parents was recalled, too. The company sent out some trains to those affected by the recall. We received one with a note apologizing and promising they were working on safety. Apparently, some who sent in toys that were part of the recall received a train, Toad, that was a part of this latest recall. I can't remember which "appeasement train" we received, but I just searched through our box of trains and didn't see Toad, so I think we're OK. But if we had, I imagine that would make me even angrier!

Now, to give the company credit, they have instituted a new "Multi-Check Toy Safety System" to make sure the toys they manufacture are actually safe to play with. We'll see, RC2.

Off to mail three maple tree tops and four sign bases that may or may not be painted with lead paint. Hey, at least we're already chelating metals from Hutton's body!

Step Away From the Cat!

Yawn. I did it again. I stayed up until 1:00 a.m. reading in the bathtub. But I did read half of Look Me in the Eye, and it's wonderful!

I had a soccer game at 8:45 last night, so didn't get home until 10:30, (we lost, per usual, but played a very good game, if I do say so myself!) and I was cold and wet, so needed a bath. And of course, I had to read in the bath, so I grabbed the new book and it immediately hooked me. Hope to finish it today around my napping.

Harrison is still sick, so will miss another day of preschool. I think we'll have missed most of this month now. Oh well. It's only money, right? He did well with his blood work yesterday. I gave him a lollipop, and the blood-letter -- what's the correct term for that? Oh yeah, phlebotomist -- used a tiny butterfly needle and my big boy's amazing arm vein filled up the two vials in less than a minute. Of course, he whined about his sore arm afterward, but we went and got a treat (chocolate chip banana bread for him, pumpkin spice latte for me) and an extra something (Baby Einstein "On the Go" DVD for him, Look Me in the Eye for me) to make us both happy.

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The title of this post - I've mentioned our two new cats in passing, but I will finally introduce them on the blog. At the end of July, the boys and I went to the Humane Society to look at cats. We decided on two lovely ladies in the "book room" -- a room painted with a mural to resemble a library, with shelves for the kitties to sit on.

We brought home "Lady" and "Kiwi", and I renamed them Nicky and Margene after two of my fave ladies from "Big Love". The names seem to fit their personalities. Nicky is a bitch -- she likes me and Hubby, but hisses at the dogs and Margene.
She stayed hidden behind Hubby's desk for the first month, and finally started coming out during the day and sleeping on the printer. She is getting better, but still not exactly a "shiny happy kitty". I assumed, incorrectly, that since she and Margene were together in the book room, they'd know each other and be fine. So far, Margene just takes her sister's bitchiness in stride.

Margene is a sweetheart, and a great hunter. She managed to get outside a bit, and is like Tully 2. Not only does she look like her predecessor, she acts like her, too. She's left us little rodent offerings on the front walk when she gets out, but also likes to climb on the roof and meow at the bathroom skylight, just like her lost sister. I've been a lot better about keeping her in, though, so she doesn't repeat everything her lost sister did, including "going off to the country" as we call it in these parts. I don't leave the door cracked for the dogs when they go out and watch for her slinking around before I open the door. Plus, now that it's getting cold and rainy, the boys aren't going outside as often during the day, so the door isn't getting opened as much. When we got Margene, her paperwork made it seem like she'd been an indoor cat. But then, a week later, I got some supplemental paperwork mailed to me. Guess who was a stray who showed up at somebody's house pregnant with kittens and was taken to the Humane Society? Yep. Our Margene. Just like Tully, again.

Margene (I'm assuming it was Margene) also caught a big rat in the house. Yikes! Several weeks ago, Harrison was talking about Margene bringing a mouse into his room. Hubby had been up to change Harrison's diaper in the middle of the night, and the next morning, Harrison told me about the mouse, but Hubby didn't say anything about it. Later the morning, I took a diaper out to the diaper pail in the garage, and opened it to reveal a big, dead rat on top of the dirty diapers. Huh. Thanks, Hubby. What a lovely surprise! I was cleaning the boys' bathroom and found some soap that been chewed up by a rodent, so I hope it was the one Margene caught, and there aren't more of them lurking around.

Both boys love the cats, but are a bit too exuberant around them. The cats are pretty good at staying away from the boys (Nicky hides behind Hubby's desk, Margene likes to sleep under our bed), but are getting more adventurous, coming out when the boys are around. Hutton, particularly, likes to look at the cats' furry ears, and tells me that we don't eat the fur in the ears. Very smart, there, Hutton. No, we DON'T eat the fur in the cats' ears. However, late last week, Hutton got a bit too close to Nicky, talking excitedly about the fur in her ears, and got a scratch on his face. I told him we have to be nice to the kitties, and not get too close, as they don't like that and will scratch to protect themselves. Hutton repeated this back to me. Be nice to kitties. Don't get too close. Nicky will scratch you. Blah blah blah. This morning, when Hutton was up at the crack of dawn, and I was still lolling in bed (1:00 a.m. bedtime, remember?), I heard Hutton being giggly and silly, followed by, "Ow!" with a few crying noises. Then back to giggly silliness a few minutes later. I got up, and sure enough, who has a fresh, longer set of scratches on his face? Hutton! So, at the bus stop this morning I went over with him again that Nicky is a mean cat. She doesn't like to be messed with. Don't touch her ears. Don't put your face anywhere near her. The next time she might scratch your eye, and that would be very, very, very bad. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. I asked Hutton, "What do we do with Nicky?" Reply: "Stay away from Nicky. She is mean and will scratch you!" I repeated my warnings a few more times, but I'm sure this is not the last time Hutton will be scratched by a cat.

Sigh.

So, here are the new kitties. Guess which one is which.
Don't I look beautiful? Like a fluffier version of Tully?
Don't mess with me. I'll scratch your eyes out. Hiss!

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Oh, I realized we spell Nicky's name differently than the show (Nicki). But, since she's also sort of named for Hutton's former speech therapist, Nichie, I'll stick with my spelling! Nicky definitely acts more like Nicki than Nichie (who is very sweet).

I'll Be Back Soon!

Hi Loyal Readers! (or for those occasional "What the crap is this? Why am I reading this?" readers)

I promise I'll be back to writing more regularly soon. Maybe this afternoon I'll start blogging about some of the crap I put on my desk to blog about. Then again, I may decide to take a nap rather than rely on the six hours of sleep I got last night. Why do I do that to myself? Put down the damn book, get out of the freezing cold bath water and go to bed before midnight, you dumb bitch! Sorry, my other half can get kinda mean.

Anyway, today is the big release of John Elder Robison's book, Look Me in the Eye. I'm not getting to go to any fun NY premiers, but I'll be going to buy it this morning.

Today is also the big launch of Halo 3. I don't know for sure, because he was in bed asleep at 1 a.m., but Hubby was gone when I got up at 7:30 a.m., so he got up early and I'm sure Halo 3 in involved. They're selling it at his place of work, so at least he might get some work done today around waiting in line for the newest installment of his beloved waste of time Xbox game. And no, Hubby doesn't work at 7-11.

Oh, Hubby was also kind enough to buy another Xbox console. You may be thinking, how is that kind? Well, see, our satellite dish got messed up when something or someone ran into it. Didn't see it happen, and the plants around the dish weren't harmed, but the satellite dish no longer works. So, Hubby hooked up the Xbox to the TV to act as our new TiVo. We still get basic cable, but no more movie channels. (I'll miss you, HBO! Larry, I'll watch the new season of Curb Your Enthusiasm eventually!) We also have the old Xbox upstairs, so the boys can play Xbox, or more often, play DVDs on it. Hubby told me he didn't want me to miss out on the new fall TV season (and yes, I've reminded him more than once about the importance of TV in my life)
while he would be playing Halo, so he bought a third Xbox to play Halo 3. Isn't he a sweetheart? Yes, and this is the man who just last week was talking about how we're spending too much money and need to budget more. I guess that meant, "Laura, YOU need to budget more. I will continue to spend money on whatever I think we need."

Anyway, this morning I am also taking Harrison to get blood drawn for allergy testing. This will be real fun, I'm sure. Sticking a three year old with needles and drawing blood - what's not to love? Yes, there will be lots of bribery involved and promises of sweets afterwards. Who knows, Harrison may end up on a super strict diet like his brother when we get the results back, so I've got to fill him with junk while we've got the chance. This has actually been occurring the past two weeks. The doctor told me to make sure Harrison eats lots of common allergens before the test, so he's had cow's milk, eggs, cheese, nuts, gluten...a lot of the stuff Hutton can't eat. We'll see how it goes!

Yawn. Now, why did I stay up reading in the bath long after the tub had turned cold? I just had to finish that book, even though I'd read it before. That's the trouble with having mush instead of brains. I can't remember most books I read within 6 months of reading them, and the book I read last night, Never Let Me Go was really good. It was probably really good when I read it last year at this time, but it was the book for this month's book club, so I needed to re-read it. Problem is, the book club meeting was two weeks ago, so I'd already missed it, but by then I was into the book and couldn't just put it away. Oh, and I started two other books while reading it. But I digress.

Time to go get that blood drawn. Fun times!

Bleh

One of those afternoons. I got to the bus stop to get Hutton late. The time got away from me, and when I noticed the time, it was 12:28 -- two minutes before the bus was due to arrive. I ran downstairs to get Harrison. I told him we had to get Hutton and started to put his shoes on. He had taken off his socks and didn't want his shoes on without those.

Eh. Tough nookie, cookie. Ran out with crying Harrison after me. Walked to the street and saw the bus already there at the corner. Grr. Held Harrison's hand and attempted to walk quickly. One time we were not at the bus stop, so the driver drove down our street, as there's more than enough room for the short bus to turn around across from our house, but no go today. I finally got to the end of the street, and the bus driver said, "What's your cell phone? I have the wrong one." I gave her my number. Then she said, "Can you please try to be on time? I've been here five minutes!" I said, "Sure. I thought you came at 12:30?" She said, "No, 12:25. Hutton is the first one off the bus, and it depends on how fast we leave school." OK. On Monday, the bus arrived at 12:45. Really. Tuesday it was after 12:30, as it was on Wednesday. But, no, I'll be there early.

The bus driver is normally nice, and has been commenting lately how much Hutton has progressed in the past year, which is great, but I was still annoyed by this. The bus driver gives the kids stickers in the afternoons if they're good on the bus, and usually gives Harrison one, too, which again, is nice of her. Today Harrison got a pirate sword sticker, but wanted the one Hutton already had on his hand when he got off the bus: a treasure chest with parrot. He started throwing another tantrum as we walked toward home, so I said, "Fine!" And tried to get Hutton's sticker, but ripped it. Great.

I checked the mail and Harrison had a fit about carrying the mail. I gave him a flyer to carry, and he then tripped and started crying. Deep breath.

Got inside and made the boys sandwiches for lunch. Went to look in Hutton's backpack. Found a book along with his homework tube (an empty Pringle's can covered in red paper that is used to send home notes and homework on the weekends, or Thursday, since there's no Kindergarten on Friday). I thought it was library day, since they hadn't announced that day yet, then opened Hutton's notebook to see, "Please send money or replace book Hutton ripped. He was squirrelly today. Is this is a pattern?" Great. I didn't know what that meant, as Monday he had a bad day, Tuesday and Wednesday were fine, and today was bad, apparently. Last week seemed fine, so no, teacher, I don't see a pattern, unless it's one of those weird ones like AAAABAAAAAAABAAB. Not really my kind of pattern. I'm not a math person, though.

But, I had thought Hutton was doing fine. Well, fine for a six-year-old with Autism. I mean, the bus driver has been raving about his behavior being so great, for crying out loud! Guess not. I started having a mini breakdown, crying and saying out loud, "Is this really my life?" Now, this wasn't really a bad day in the grand scheme of things, but I guess the fall weather (read: gray and dreary) is starting already and I'm just not glad to be back to the everyday crap after my weekend of single fun in NYC. Sigh. One day at a time, right?
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Another thing: Hubby told me Sunday night when he picked me up from the airport we were spending too much money again and needed to come up with a budget. Ugh. Well, the budget is a good idea, because I really don't see how we're spending lots of money. Let's see, I bought a plane ticket to my friend's wedding, and the wedding gift, and spent less than $100 in NYC. Most of the stuff I did was free or paid for, like the rehearsal dinner and wedding. I stayed with my friend and her husband, which saved a lot on a hotel. Other than this trip, I made a trip to San Francisco in July, and stayed with friends, again, but the boys and I did not visit family this summer, as we normally do. My mom and Hubby's mom came to visit us instead. Other than these two trips, the boys and I went to the movies once, to the state fair one afternoon, and to a farm with carnival rides one time for entertainment this summer. The only things I buy with Hubby's (read: our) money are groceries, and coffee for my secret shopping, which is reimbursed. I bought some toys for Hutton's birthday with a gift card from my mom. I got a new dress for myself to wear to the wedding with another gift card from my mom. Other than that, I spend money on Hutton's ABA therapy - the 20% not covered by insurance - and his vitamins and supplements, which are pretty expensive, but not crazy. I bought some back to school clothes for Hutton at Old Navy, and my mother bought some clothes for Hutton and Harrison when she came to visit. We go out to eat - at a hot dog place - once a week. I go to the library for most of my books, but do buy a couple books or CDs every now and then, using my secret shopping money. I pay about $400 a year to play on my soccer team, which averages $33 a month. There's fuel for the car and other incidentals. We don't spend extra on HBO anymore. (In fact, our TV doesn't work at all right now. Just in time for the fall season!) But, all together, I really don't see how we're living so lavishly that Hubby's pretty good salary can't cover everything. I feel like I lived higher on the hog when I was single and making less than $30,000 a year. Then again, I could spend my salary on just me then, and we didn't have to pay a mortgage and to feed a family of four. Oh yeah, and two dogs and two cats.

Sigh. It's cold in my house. Waah. Enough whining. Time to go try to make myself happy.