Weather Woes

This is a rarity -- two posts in one day!

Hubby just came down and sat down next to me on the couch. He said, "I just checked the weather report. They're saying we're going to have 50 - 100 mph winds and ice pellets this evening or tonight." We already have about 8 inches of snow on the ground.

I replied, "So, are you saying you want to go camping?"

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Yesterday Hubby went out to get more fuel for our generator and make sure his 4wd truck is gassed up, and to check our chainsaw so we'll be somewhat prepared if one of the giant fir trees around our house decides to lose some limbs. After telling me the latest weather report, he announced that we should go out to lunch as it may be a while before it happens again.

I'm already feeling a bit stir crazy from spending so much time inside, so I really hope the weather report isn't accurate!

Oh, and Hutton needs to have a tooth filled, but the dentist canceled the appointment Thursday because of the snow. This is the tooth the the dentist told us two weeks ago needed to be filled as soon as possible, as it may require a root canal if we wait too long. I made an appointment the Tuesday after that Saturday pronouncement, and they filled the smaller cavity and put sealants on his other molars, but didn't get to the big cavity because they were overbooked. That was highly annoying, because they took a long time and didn't finish the job, and were making Hutton wait a long time. Fortunately, he was a trooper and did fine with all the waiting, as well as the dental work. Wow, they just called. Coincidence? Hutton is scheduled to have his big filling on Tuesday. Oh, and he had a resin filling put in, and the second filling will be resin as well. There's not a snowball's (Ha!) chance in hell I'd ever let them put amalgam (read: MERCURY) fillings in his mouth. Unfortunately for Hutton, he received Mommy's predilection for cavities, instead of Daddy's perfect, cavity-free teeth.

Happy Holidays!

This month has been a bad one for blogging, but a good one otherwise. I am enjoying a mellow morning on the couch watching, "A Very Brady Christmas" on tv. Yes, it's pretty lame, but I've got Sally the dog at my feet, the Christmas tree lit up, and several inches of snow on the ground outside looking pretty.

School was out for the past three days because of the snow, so we got an early start on our Christmas vacation, though unfortunately Hutton and Harrison's teachers will be receiving "New Year" cards and gifts, as I wasn't expecting school to be canceled on Wednesday, since it didn't even start snowing until Wednesday evening.

The snow is beautiful, as I said, and the boys have enjoyed it, though they only last an hour or so before they get too cold. Thursday they made snow angels and half a snowman (and a snowdog). Friday they went sledding with their Dad, though our sled is very lame -- just a sheet of plastic with handles, one of which broke -- and we need to get a couple of good sleds. I went out yesterday to look, but they were all sold out, and I didn't want to drive around too much, as the streets are still very snowy.

We're going to be in town for Christmas this year, for the first time in several years. A few days after Christmas, the boys and I will fly to Nashville to see my family, while Hubby stays here with the animals.

I'll try to post more in the coming days, as we have no school or other things to do, other than enjoy the snow and eat too much. Which reminds me, I have some gluten free cookie dough I made the other day, so that will be a good project for this afternoon.

HBOT

Kajoli had asked about how the HBOT was going in her last comment (thanks for reading, by the way, Kajoli!) so I wanted to touch base on that quickly before going to get Hutton at the bus stop.

We did two sessions daily for a little under a month in the mild chamber we rented, and returned the chamber the Friday before Thanksgiving. So, it's been two weeks since we stopped, and now we're in the "watch and see what happens" phase, which is always a bit hard, as there's not a black and white answer to "does this help or not?" I'm going to keep watching over the next month and hope we see more improvements, but we won't be renting the hyperbaric chamber again for a while, even if we do see wows, because we don't have the money right now! Isn't that the case with most people? Sigh.

So, the positives I have seen so far: Hutton has been talking in longer sentences. This is always a tricky one, though, because couldn't it just be something he'd do anyway? Who knows? A new thing he started on our trip -- writing labels for various rooms and doors. At my sister-in-law's house, Hutton was given a pad of paper and some crayons. He wrote an "EXIT" sign and taped it to the door! Next, he asked about the spelling of "outside" and put that up below the exit sign. He proceeded to make signs for every room (kitchen, living room, office, bathroom, bedrooms, etc.) and make signs with "EXIT" for all doors and "outside" for doors that led outside. That was a crazy new thing, but I think it's a positive. He was writing, and learning how to spell new words. He made some signs for various rooms and doors when he got home, as well.

Another thing I noticed, also on our trip, was that his drawing has improved. He drew a picture of the motel we stayed at overnight the first night in NC, and it had three floors, stairs, and windows and doors. It was clear what the drawing was of, and Hutton has not really been interested in drawing before.

Other than those two things, I haven't noticed anything dramatically new or different, but again, I'm hoping for more developments! On our trip, cousins who hadn't really seen Hutton before all commented that they couldn't really tell he has autism. That's always good to hear, even if they're just being polite!

Oh, and we discovered that Hutton likes to play basketball, which I hadn't seen before, since we don't have a basketball hoop at home. I don't know if he's played at school or recess. My mother-in-law will probably be doing something about our lack of basketball hoop for Christmas!

It's Been a While

I'm a poor blogger. Yeah, I'm sorry. You're not really reading this regularly anyway, right?

So, we went away for a week for Thanksgiving. We flew to Raleigh, NC, then drove to Charlotte the next morning to stay with my SIL and her family for a few days, then we all drove to Wilmington for Thanksgiving, and stayed with Hubby's great-aunt and uncle at their very nice house on the water for several days. I didn't need to cook for over a week, and my MIL was there to help with the boys. We all enjoyed ourselves, though Hutton was very sad to leave, as happens whenever we leave town -- he doesn't want to go home. Can't say I blame him!

We came home Tuesday afternoon and I got the Christmas decorations out Wednesday. Just in time, as Thursday I woke up feeling dizzy and light-headed. I muddled through for an hour before I called Hubby at work and he came home. By noon, I wasn't dizzy anymore, but had moved on to a headache and vomiting. I heard Hubby tell my mother on the phone that I had the flu, and thought, "Oh crap!" But, after going to bed early Thursday, I woke up feeling fine Friday. Phew!

Saturday, the boys and I went to the dentist in the morning. The last visit did not go well, as Harrison refused to even open his mouth, and then Hutton did the same. Fortunately, this time, both boys were great. Unfortunately, Hutton has two cavities that need to be filled Tuesday. I spent Saturday afternoon researching and agonizing, but I think some composite fillings will be the best bet. As I told Hubby, Hutton is a little young for gold teeth, and there's no way in hell I'm letting the dentist put "amalgam" AKA mercury in his mouth. I'll be watching the dentist like a hawk Tuesday, though to make sure.

Saturday afternoon, we went to the local tree farm and cut down a Christmas tree. It's hanging out across the room from me now, and looks quite festive, even though it doesn't have any pretty (read: glass) ornaments on it. It started with one fragile ornament -- the first ornament hung. Harrison very carefully placed a small snow globe ornament and was so proud to have put the first ornament up. Moments later, Hutton put on the second ornament, and knocked the first ornament off the tree in the process. Whoops. After that, I skipped further fragile ornaments and went for the more rugged ones that can withstand falls. The fragile ones will have to wait a bit longer!

Today, I went to a yearly Christmas tea a friend of mine co-hosts. The co-host of the party lives in a mansion, where the tea is held. After touring her gorgeous home and seeing the beautiful Christmas decorations, it is always slightly depressing to return to reality. Hey, at least the boys cleaned up the playroom while I was gone!

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I have more interesting stories to post (well, for me), and I will eventually write more about my sweet, sweet Fergus, but I'd rather take a bath right now! I'll try to be a better blogger. Maybe that will be a new year's resolution? Heh. Sure.

Another Day, Another Dollar...

...Or thousands, to be spent.

This fall, the money issues are coming up. Fortunately, my husband's job seems to be secure, and he makes enough for us to live on and have a little set aside for emergencies. However, we have been spending too much lately. And not just on unnecessary luxuries like new TVs (though Hubby did buy one of those, and now it's annoying me because the thing is too big for the stand it's on, and isn't centered on the wall, so from my regular seat -- the one I always sit in on the couch -- the end of the TV overlaps the doorway according to my angle of view, plus the cables and plugs to the TV are all visible on the wall. It's very upsetting to my sense of decor. Hubby doesn't see the point in that, but feng shui, or my Americanized version of it, is important to me!).

Where was I? Oh yes, we're spending too much money. In October, we had the hyperbaric chamber rental. That has been going well so far, in that Hutton enjoys going in the chamber twice a day, and his sentences are getting longer and sound more "typical". We'll see how he does in the weeks to come if he continues to improve. The chamber goes back next week, and if he shows improvement during the "down time" we'll probably want to rent it again, or look into buying one. Did you say that will cost still more money? Oh yeah. Money. So, if the hyperbaric protocol works for Hutton, that's great, but means more money spent. If it doesn't work for Hutton, that just means we wasted thousands of dollars. Hmm. And time. Time is money, right? Well, not if you're a seven-year-old boy or a housewife, I suppose.

I bought tickets to fly home to Nashville for the week between Christmas and New Year's. Originally, we were all going to go for two weeks, and drive down to Pensacola to visit Hubby's family, too, but when that got into the $2500 range (AKA the price of renting a hyperbaric chamber for a month) Hubby balked. So, now the boys and I are going to Nashville for a week, not driving to Pensacola (we'll see the inlaws in North Carolina for Thanksgiving, when we visit my sister-in-law and her family) and we'll save on Hubby's ticket, plus car rental costs, plus Hubby can stay and take care of the pets, so no petsitter costs for that. Phew. But, still, another $1700 to visit family for Christmas.

Then there's the Christmas gifts to be bought for friends and family. I've bought things for a few people already, but still have more to buy, and I'm sure that will quickly add up.

And then, today, I took our sweet Sally to the vet for her annual checkup. She has two fatty tumors that are growing -- one on her leg, the other on the side of her abdomen, and the vet wrote up an estimate for having them removed. She's had these tumors for years, and when they biopsied them, they were benign, but the one on her leg started getting bigger this fall. So, it's possible there's something underneath all the fat. But, do we want to subject our 13-year-old dog to surgery and the two weeks of downtime to follow? Not to mention the $1100 or so for surgery? Sally's a great dog, but as Hubby and I discussed two years ago when she needed surgery for a herniated disk in her neck, it's a lot of money. So, we're going to wait on the tumors for a while, since they aren't bothering her.

I won't type anything else, or I'm sure to jinx us into having more money issues come up.

Goodbye, Fergus

This is going to take a while to write, so I'm going to do installments. Here's the first one. Oh yeah, this is about my dog, Fergus, who died Sunday morning, at the age of 15.

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Once upon a time there was a girl. Well, she was really a young lady, as she was 18, soon to be 19, years old. She was a rising junior in college, enjoying her summer vacation at home with her mother and stepfather. She worked during the week at a day camp, as the ropes course counselor, although she much preferred to sit and do beading, or to go on creek walks. She worked with some friends from high school, and she hung out with these friends and her best girl friend from high school in the evenings and on weekends. They went to movies, or rented movies or played pool and video games at the arcade, and were generally carefree, staying up too late on work nights, but it didn't matter so much as it was only a summer job.

The girl was going to be moving into a house off campus with her college friends when she returned to college in a few months, and they had spoken about getting a dog, since they could finally get one, as they weren't in dorms anymore. Everyone was excited to be living together, though technically this constituted a brothel in the town, since it was more than three unrelated women living together in a house. (Only three were listed on their lease, though, so they could get away with it.) So, over the summer, the girl thought about dogs, and started reading about puppies, and decided on which kind she wanted, though she'd had a chosen breed in her head for a long time. She looked in the local paper, and one day saw in ad for the type of dog she wanted. Her two best friends went with her to get the puppy. They drove to a town about thirty miles away, where the puppies lived. The man who was selling them owned a Brittany as a hunting dog, and this was the mother of the litter of puppies.

The girl wanted to get a liver and white dog, as she liked the color, and the fact that she and her dog would have the same color hair. (Yes, she was a bit odd.) There were three liver and white dogs in the litter, and the breeder wanted to keep the female of the three, so that left two dogs to choose from. The girl, of course, chose the feistiest of the two, a little puppy the breeder called "Ace" though of course, the girl had no intention of keeping that name. She already had a perfect name picked out for her dog: Fergus. She'd found several names she liked in a baby name book, and once she picked her puppy, Fergus seemed to suit him best.

The girl took Fergus home to her mother and stepfather's home, where he had many accidents while becoming house-trained, though he was cute enough that even her neat-freak stepfather didn't mind. In the afternoons after work, the girl would play with Fergus, and many times they would nap together on the floor, though soon Fergus would graduate to sleeping on the bed with her.

Then, the summer drew to a close, and the girl packed up her car to return to college, with Fergus riding shotgun as they drove the eight hours to the college town, stopping at every rest stop along the way.

When they pulled into the house, the girl's housemates were very excited to meet Fergus, their new pet. Everyone loved him almost instantly, and who could blame them? Look at how cute he was!

Historic Day

Today is the day after the big election. Being in the west, I knew the results in the early evening last night, and the boys were awake to watch the Obama acceptance speech with me. I clapped, I laughed (the puppy line), I cried (Jesse Jackson and I have that in common). I had to watch it on my laptop, instead of the fancy new TV, because I can't get the TV to work. It's one of those things that Hubby's computer controls, and I tried to reset his computer, but it didn't work. Oh well! Just gave me incentive to not stay up all night watching returns on my laptop.

Harrison went with me to vote yesterday. He wasn't into it, even though it was such a special moment for me. I had a good feeling about Obama's chances of winning, (I was wearing some "Blue State" blue underwear as a good luck charm) and this was the last time I would vote at the polls in Washington state. The state's elections are going to be all mail-in ballots from the next election on, and I will miss voting in person, though Harrison won't miss going to the polls with me, I guess. Hutton asked about voting after school, so I think I took the wrong son with me to vote!

As I watched the results come in and got excited about Obama's wins, Harrison told me he didn't want Obama to win. He wanted McCain to win. WHAT?! I didn't even know Harrison knew the names of the candidates, let alone that he'd already made up his mind as a four-year-old non-voter. Harrison told me again this morning that he didn't want Obama to win, that he liked McCain. He may just be doing this in the classic four-year-old, I'm going to do the opposite of what Mommy does to annoy her an assert my independence. I tried to convince him of the superiority of Democrats over Republicans, but I didn't delve into it too deeply, and I tried not to taunt him with too many Obama happy dances, although he laughed when Sally our dog danced around with me, so there's hope.

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North Carolina is interesting right now. I am very pleased that the beautiful state where I learned a great deal about life, met some of my very best friends, and voted for the first time (I went to college there) is "purple", and not red. I'm even more pleased that Kay Hagan beat Elizabeth Dole. Dole's nasty campaigning appears to have back-fired. Thank God! (That coming from someone who would consider herself a godless American.) I was excited to hear Hagan's name a few months ago, as that is my maiden name, and learn that she was Democrat.

Melancholy Mama

Today is one of those melancholy days around here. It's the first day of November, the leaves are on the far side of pretty -- the trees are either half-leaved or have lost them, so they look bare and cold. Just a few days ago, when I went with Hutton's class on a field trip, the trees still looked very pretty, with lots of red, yellow and orange leaves. Once the leaves go, and the rain starts, the late fall blues are not far behind! Considering tomorrow daylight saving ends, too, I know on Monday we'll be walking to the school bus in the dark.

Today, I dropped Hubby off at the airport, which is another reason for melancholia. He's going to Barcelona for a week; he'll be giving several talks at some conference. We'd talked about everyone going at one point, but after our summer of vacation spending (Disney World and California) and the fact that Hutton will already be missing several days of school so we can go out of town for Thanksgiving (another expenditure, as well), we decided against it. I do feel sad to be left behind, though, and although a few days here and there of solo parenting are fine, a whole week is hard, especially when it's fall.

Another thing, is that Hutton and I (and Harrison a few times) have been spending time in the hyperbaric chamber, which is where I am now! This is great, in that I have high hopes it will have positive results for Hutton, but also tiring, as on school days, I have to get up at 6 a.m. so we'll have enough time to get a session in before school. The protocol calls for two 90 minute sessions a day, with at least 6 hours between sessions, and the 6 a.m. session, and one after school, works best with keeping our schedule as close to normal as possible. After waking up at 6 a.m. since Monday, though, I'm getting worn down. Although Hutton and I sleep during the morning sessions in the chamber, it's cramped and not exactly restful when we're both trying to share a pillow, and Hutton is a wriggly sleeper. So snoozing is more of a description of what goes on. This weekend I plan to do a lot more sitting on my butt and sleeping in to recover.

The past week was tiring in that it was the build to Halloween, as well. Thursday, Hutton's class had a field trip to a local farm, where there's a pumpkin patch, hay maze, corn maze, and petting zoo. I chaperoned, along with several other parents, which was fun, as I missed the trip with Harrison's preschool. Friday, Hutton had two Halloween parties I helped with. The first was the mainstream first grade class Hutton eats lunch with. They had a cute art project, but otherwise, I preferred Hutton's "real" class party. I know the teachers and other parents and kids in there.

Oh yeah: Crush alert! There's a father of a fellow student in Hutton's class I've seen several times over the years. His daughter was in Hutton's kindergarten class a few years back, and I've seen him at various class functions, including the field trip on Thursday. But yesterday was different. Why? you may ask. Well...he was in uniform! The man is a cop. I never thought I was into that, but seeing a normal looking guy suddenly transformed into crush material in just a day was pretty impressive. I don't know if it was the gun and clips in the holster, the badge, the tight pants.... Anyway, his wife was there, too, and she's very nice, as is the husband (I mean, he's at an elementary school Halloween party, for god's sake!), and I did my best not to stare. I did make a stupid joke to him about liking his Halloween costume. Duh. Hey, another mom in the class said the same thing later on, so I guess I'm not the only one.

Friday night, Hubby and I took the boys trick or treating at the outdoor mall. We joked about how it was just like when we were kids. (No, not really. I had a great trick or treating neighborhood growing up, and we'd spend hours trick or treating on Halloween.) Our neighborhood now isn't good for trick or treating (no street lights, a few houses spread too far apart), and the boys had a great time at the mall (Harrison pronounced it the best day ever -- hey, he's only 4!) even though some of the stores gave out lame candy, or worse, stickers. The boys didn't seem to mind, and Hutton did a great job of saying "Trick or treat!" and following up with "Thank you!" after getting candy. (Though I was reminding him often.) After trick or treating, we went out to dinner at a Thai restaurant. Plus, one of the mall restaurants gave us a $20 gift card with the boys' candy, so Hubby and I will have to go back on a date.

After the boys went to bed, we watched The Fifth Element on BluRay. Hubby got it from Netflix, as he's been trying to rent good BluRay type films since he just got the fancy new equipment (he bought a new, bigger TV as well, that we don't really need and can't really afford right now. Hey, we're doing our part to help stimulate the economy!) About halfway in, I leaned over and said to him, "You know this movie is visually stunning, but seriously sucks." Hubby agreed, and we laughed about that as the movie continued and got weirder and suckier.

So, that's what's been going on this week. Man, I have to pee, and have 15 more minutes of HBOT time. Can I make it? I gave myself a UTI by waiting too long/running to many errands without stops last week, so I'm pressing my luck.

It's Finally Here!

The hyperbaric chamber, that is. I have three big boxes in the garage, where the FedEx guy put them for me. I managed to move the smallest box to Hutton's room, where we going to set it up, since he sleeps in Harrison's room. I'll need Hubby's help to move the rest of them.

Of course, our power went out shortly afterward, and I have that, "Crap! What do I do now?" feeling. Not that I could have moved the boxes by myself anyway, but now I can't even make phone calls (there's a regular phone somewhere upstairs on Hubby's desk; the rest are digital and don't work when the power's out) but I'll just wait and catch up on my calls during Harrison's soccer practice in an hour. All the chores I have around the house need power. I just loaded the dishwasher this morning, and was going to start it after breakfast. Hmm. Maybe later. Laundry? Same deal. It really puts things in perspective. How much I depend on electricity in my life. (Sing School House Rock! Electricity song here). We have a generator we set up to run a few things when the power goes out in storms, but hopefully this is just a temporary thing. They're running power lines under the main road down the street from our house, so I hope that that's why the power went out, and it will be back up this evening. The reason the power lines are being buried? To prevent future storm-driven power outages, caused when the giant fir tree branches smack into the power lines. So, it seems the power is out to prevent the power from going out. Ironic, no?

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Last night, as I was preparing to go to soccer, I was using some apple cider vinegar to tone my face (yeah, I'm weird) and the smell of vinegar made me think of fish n' chips. Which caused me to say aloud, "Fish and chips won't do." And then I had to try to figure out what song that line was from. Do you know? Give up? It's from the Michael Thomas classic, "Fish and Chips." What do you mean, you don't know that song? Philip, better known as Tubbs, of Crockett and Tubbs from Miami Vice had a musical career, too, you know! Don Johnson's "Heartbeat" wasn't the only musical gold from Miami Vice actors! So, I had to google the song, and try to find it. Strangely enough, I couldn't find it on youtube, nor could I find the lyrics. I'm going to have to search through the mix tapes I kept from the eighties and nineties. My brother's friend taped the song for him, and I in turn taped it from my brother, because the song is one of the most unintentionally cheezy and funny songs you'll ever hear. A lyric I remember well: "Open up your kitchen, girl!/And feed me till I'm satisfied." No, Phillip ain't talking about eating fish and chips! He wants a main course, baby, and he's got his eye on you! Or something like that. I may have to pay money to download the song if I can find it. If I do, I'll post it for your listening pleasure!

I called my brother today to reminisce about the song. I love my brother. He's 4 1/2 years older than me, and taught me all I needed to know about sarcasm when I was a preteen. I love him even though he's a Republican. Wait, he claims to be a Libertarian. Yeah, we'll see who he votes for!

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I started this post this morning, then the battery power on my laptop died. Fortunately, by the time I returned this afternoon at 3, the power was on again. Better late than never!

Another Exciting Week! Snore

As you may have guessed, not much going on here. Which is good, I suppose! I just had my "yearly" exam, though it's been two years since my last checkup. Whoops! That's one reason I just switched doctors. Maybe going to a new doctor with fewer patients, instead of the busy OB/Gyn practice, will mean the office will actually want to see me every year! Everything looked fine, and I had some blood drawn to check out all that good stuff. I also get to schedule a screening mammogram now that I'm 35! Lucky me. It is supposed to take about three months to get an appointment, since it's only a screening, baseline mammogram. Hey, still better than most autism services wait lists! So, right now I have the form on my desk to remind me, with a lovely picture of breasts -- the nipples are like eyes, boring into me saying, "We're watching you! Pick up the phone and schedule it already!" That is, if either eyes or nipples could talk.


See? Can't you feel them staring at you? Stop staring, boobs!

This weekend the weather was nice (unlike today - raining) and we got some fall cleanup done. Saturday, Hubby mowed the lawn for the last time of the year and cleaned the gutters. The boys "helped" and Harrison got some gutter crud dumped on him. Note to boys: don't stand directly under Daddy's ladder when he's cleaning out the gutters. Sunday, I swept up all the gutter crud and Harrison helped me rake some leaves.

When I was in the garage getting the rakes, however, I smelled the second of two Horrendous Smells of the Day. The first occurred when I was sweeping off the back deck. Fergus, bless him, was sniffing around by the grill, and found the "drippings bucket" hanging under the grill that apparently hadn't been cleaned after it's last use. (That's one of the "not my job" things that Hubby is in charge of.) Fergus dumped the bucket on the deck, and by the time I discovered what he'd done, he'd eaten some of the nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty (did I mention nasty?) slop that had come out. Think rancid grease and fat. Yes, nasty. I took the nasty bucket inside to clean, and grabbed some paper towels to pick up the rest of the nasty fat, then dumped some hot water on the remaining slime on the deck. That was smell number one. I revisited it a few hours later when I was pooper-scooping the yard prior to raking, and found some piles of vomited up rancid grease and fat. Yeah, Fergus, that's why you shouldn't have eaten that. That's why it had that horrific smell. I guess dogs don't really see things that way, though.

Smell number two was similar to the first, and I thought it was more rancid fat vomit, thanks to Fergus. Nope. It was... Hey, what's that smelly thing in the pile of outdoor toys in the garage? It smells like something putrescent, oh hey, it's a dead rat! I moved the soccer ball and stomp rocket out to the driveway to hose down and grabbed the pooper scooper to dispose of the nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty-smelling carcass. How long had that been there? Why am I the only human with a sense of smell who notices these things? Where are these rats coming from, and can they please stay away? (That's why we have cats - vermin patrol. However, I would prefer they keep the vermin outside.) I hosed down the garage floor and now need to buy some more Nature's Miracle. I wonder if they have a "dead stuff/putrescence" formula, or if the cat pee version will do the trick.

This weekend the boys and I also went to see if there were any more salmon, but didn't see any. Last weekend we heard them, but didn't get to see them. You could just hear them splashing around upstream from our viewing spot.

I also worked on Halloween costumes for me and Hubby. The boys both decided yesterday they want to be Spiderman. Yes, both of them. Hubby and I discussed other Spiderman friends and foes to see if one of them wanted to be someone else, but right now, they both still want Spiderman. I'm not going to attempt to make two Spiderman (and typing that out, I always think of it pronounced like a surname -- Spidermun) costumes, so I'll have to try to buy those. Maybe one will be the black costumed Spiderman? They've been playing the Spiderman Xbox game, hence both wanting to be him. A few weeks ago, Harrison wanted to be EVE (from Wall-E) so I suppose Spiderman is a much-easier costume choice, provided I'm not attempting to sew it myself. (My sewing skills are very basic and do not involve spandex.) Plus there was the whole realization on Harrison's part that EVE was a girl, and I could see the first struggle about gender identity taking place in his four-year-old mind: "Maybe EVE can be a boy, too?" I was just beginning to figure out how to make an EVE costume (and assuming Hutton would be Wall-E, which would involve a cardboard box - not exactly easy-to-wear at parties) when Harrison changed his mind to the definitely male SpiderMAN. Hmm. So, I think Harrison and I will go costume shopping today when I pick him up from school.

After I make that mammogram appointment, that is!

Last Weekend

Last Saturday at this time, I was listening to John Elder Robison speak at Third Place Books. He was great, with funny and uplifting stories, and his fascinating talk about TMS (you'll have to read about that on his blog). I had him sign my hardcover I bought last year when it came out, and I bought two paperback copies for him to sign, as well.

Here's the proof:


On Sunday, the boys and I walked to the creek at the end of the street to see if the salmon were here yet. (The salmon come upstream to spawn every fall about this time.) There was only one, and he/she was hanging in the shadows, so I didn't get a good picture, but I did get lots of pictures of the boys being silly.

Please Ignore That Ad

The one about flu shots. Uggh! Well, it's gone now (for some reason, I get ads on one computer, but not my laptop.)

Speaking of flu shots, yesterday I went to Safeway [the closest grocery store to my house] and I had to avoid the line of people there getting flu shots in the pharamcy area, and hope they weren't giving flumist, as well, or Harrison and I were both exposed to it. As I was leaving, a sign on the door made me do a double-take. No, it really did say, "Get your flu shot today and get 10% off your next Safeway in-store grocery purchase!" Really. I wonder how much money Safeway gets from the drug companies for that little kickback?

Busy/Boring Week

Is that possible to be busy and bored simultaneously? Well, I guess I've been alternating between the two.

Hutton still has a lingering cough, but his faux chickenpox seems to have passed. I think it was some other kind of virus, but will see if Harrison comes down with anything in the coming days.

I have lots of knitting to complete -- a baby shower in a few weeks, another friend's baby is due soon -- and I'm not getting it done quickly enough. I also have a big book club book to finish for next week. So, you see my projects aren't exactly "exciting" are they? And I'm not doing either one right now. I'm sitting on the couch with one hefty cat on one thigh, my laptop on the other.

Harrison's school has changed the date of a field trip to a farm three times in the past four days, and I'm not going to drive as a result. No, I'm not just being a bitter bitch, trying to "show them." I rearranged my schedule last week in order for them to switch Harrison's preschool days around -- I switched my weekly riding lessons from Wednesday to Thursday, and switched Harrison's soccer class from Friday to Wednesday, and had been all set to drive/volunteer when they told me on Tuesday that the trip would be on a Tuesday (a free day for me and Harrison). Then, I found out yesterday that it will actually be on a Thursday (the morning of my riding lesson, which I missed last week due to Hutton's sickness, so I really don't want to miss another one!). I'm just annoyed because I would have liked to go, and if they don't have enough parents to drive, they'll have to cancel. Oh well!

Other than that, I'm trying not to yell at poor old Fergus when he pees on the floor, though I did not succeed in that Wednesday morning. (Cue flashback sequence). I came downstairs to get Hutton ready for school, and in the 20 seconds before I could get to the front door to let him out, Fergus peed. The cursing ensued, as I scrambled to get the pee cleaned up as it rushed across the floor to various rugs, and spilled down a step into the family room. I had about ten minutes to clean pee, get Harrison ready to go to the bus stop (he'd just come out in his pajamas), get Hutton to finish breakfast and take his gazillion capsules of various supplements, and I was not doing well. Into this mess steps Hubby. As he looked down at me, cursing the )(*&%(*&!)*&% dog and his !@(*&#%)(*&#% pee as I wiped up the mess with towels, he offered the following help: "Laura, you do not need to talk that way! If the boys say any of those words, I'm going to be very upset and disappointed!" He then steps out to go to work.

Deep breath. Harrison has wandered over, half dressed, and I tell him in my most sugary sweet voice, though my throat is closing up in anxiety, that he'll have to wait to eat breakfast until we get back from the bus stop, and then start singing the praises of my oh-so-helpful husband in heavy sarcasm. I tell no one in particular how great it was to return home from my soccer game the night before at 7:30, to have to take out the trash and recycling, fix dinner, clean up and put the boys to bed while Hubby was "busy" upstairs. I literally started to gasp for breath, though, so I had to stop talking and get Hutton hustled out the door to the bus.

Fortunately, Hubby seemed to understand that I wasn't coping well (hence the cursing banshee bitch routine) and after talking to me about how I had to learn to handle my anger without yelling on Wednesday night, he actually got the boys put to bed and fed the dogs the next morning. Thank God, because Wednesday morning the "D" word wasn't too far from my mind.

Speaking of which, I heard from both of my siblings that my mother is divorcing my stepfather after 20 years of marriage. I'll have a long, angsty blog post about that later when I get it together. Of course, I only know this from my siblings, because my mother hasn't mentioned it to me. Yeah, isn't that great?

I actually have a positive post about last weekend as well. I'll try to get that together, as well!

I Need to Leave My House

Well, for longer than ten minutes, that is. The good news: Hutton looks like he doesn't have chicken pox after all. His rash never developed into anything, and has pretty much faded. The sniffles he had have intensified into a lovely productive cough and head cold, though. Hutton hasn't been to school since Monday, and I have only left the house to take Harrison to school and pick him up.

I am very, very happy that Hutton doesn't have chicken pox, because if he did, I'd probably be stuck in the house with him for next week, too. Just four days of this makes me feel like I'm becoming ingrown into the couch.

Day Two

Well today, Hutton is still sick with a cough, but his "pox" really looks so very minor I feel like it's an insult to real chickenpox. He only has about 8 spots, and they look like mosquito bites or small pimples. I think he may just have some viral rash that's not chickenpox, but since I can't be certain, I don't want to expose him to classmates (and he still has a virus of some sort), plus he still has that cough. He could get more spots, too, though I hope not!

Harrison is fine, and I will be taking him to school tomorrow with no qualms unless he comes down with a sniffly cough later tonight (which is what Hutton had before he broke out in his rash). Since he isn't vaccinated for chickenpox, I'll be watching carefully to see if he comes down with anything. According to my mother (the expert I call first when these things happen!), my sister and I got chickenpox exactly two weeks after my brother got them, so it could be two weeks from now. Though, if he doesn't get it, I'll never know if Hutton really had chickenpox. Then again, if he does get it, then he'll have chickenpox. I suppose I'd rather he get it now than later.

If Hutton does have "real" chickenpox, then I must say the vaccine actually did make it a milder case. (See, I'm not anti-vaccine! I just wish Hutton hadn't had so many given to him when he was sick with two ear infections and eczema). Or this could be a sign that his immune system is recovering enough that he's actually able to have a proper immune response to a virus! Wow! I hope so.

I am a bit annoyed that we don't have our hyperbaric rental yet, as it would have helped heal the rash so much faster. Oh well! My timing is always off.


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Go get Jenny's new book! It's amazing! I bought it last night after my soccer game, and read most of it in one sitting, alternating between crying and smiling, feeling angry and hopeful. I can't wait to see her on Oprah later today!

A Pox on Our House

Last night, as I got Hutton out of the bath, I noticed some red bumps, about the size of mosquito bites on his back. There were about four of them. There was another, larger bump where the waistband of his underwear hits. My mother radar started beeping, but I needed reinforcement, so called for backup.

Hubby came down and looked at the bumps. "I don't think that's anything. The one by his waistband looks like a diaper rash." Off Hubby trotted, happily done with me for the evening.

Hutton was very tired at bedtime, and had been sniffling a bit that day and Sunday. After I put the boys to bed, I went to my laptop, where I've logged hours of google autism research, and googled "rash". After extensive research, I concluded that Hutton had chickenpox, which seems more likely today, as he has a few more bumps on his chest, stomach, neck and scalp. And they itch, according to Hutton. Don't scratch, sweetie, you'll get scars and ruin your modeling career!

The spots still look pimply, rather than the almost beautiful-sounding "dewdrops on rose petals" stage.

Of course, Hutton was in the contagious but not yet rashy stage on Saturday when we visited my friend's kids, then went to the McDonald's play area, then to a party Saturday night. Sorry, folks! And he was contagious but not yet rashy when he went to school Monday, followed by soccer class and the grocery store. Sorry, even more folks! Pox-oid Hutton may or may not have infected his brother. It's too soon to tell, which is very annoying, because Thursday is picture day at Harrison's school, and I really don't want to miss having Harrison's picture in the class photo or his individual shots. Drat!

Hutton had his first chickepox vaccine at 15 months, so we'll say that this is "breakthrough" chickenpox, you know, because he didn't get that booster shot at 4 years. Harrison has not had the vaccine, so I'll have to see if he gets a worse case.

Either way, I'm annoyed that this didn't happen last month, you know, when I had nothing on my calendar. I just rescheduled a doctor's appointment, and will have to miss Harrison's soccer class tomorrow, my horseback riding lesson Friday morning, and the boys' riding lessons Friday afternoon. No telling when and how long Harrison's pox fest will last, when and if it occurs.

Oh, and according to Hubby, he never had chickenpox, though his younger sister had it. So, either Hubby is one of the few people who got the virus, but not the rash, or he's going to be getting adult chickenpox soon.

I'm already feeling stir crazy and cabin feverish. I'm going to play soccer tonight, and will have to go shopping after the game. I need to buy Jenny's book, and I'm trapped in a house o' pox!

Where's My Soap?

This afternoon, the bus driver told me that Hutton had said a bad word twice on the bus ride home. The word? Bullshit.

My cheeks instantly flamed up in embarrassment as I admonished Hutton not to say such things, and as we walked home, I threatened to take away the Wall-E xbox game if he ever said it again.

Anyone want to guess where he heard that? No, not from his mother. No way! I never curse!

Er, yeah, that's bullshit.

Out of the Mouths of Preschoolers

Laura: Do you want to go run errands in a few minutes, Harrison?

Harrison: No. That's not good for my image.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And, no, Kim, I wasn't even going to make him go to the gynecologist with me!

September 11

It's here again. I will always remember that day. Hutton was almost 3 weeks old. I was lounging around in my bedroom with him, still in pajamas. Hubby had gone back to work, and I was figuring out the whole "new mom" thing. I happened to turn on the TV, and was watching the Today show or something similar when there was a news alert about a plane accident. Or what we thought was an accident. Time passed, many phone calls were made as family members checked in to make sure Hubby wasn't traveling to NY by any chance, and Hutton slept, nursed, cried, and pooped as newborns do.

Everyday is Like Sunday

I just heard that line from the title Morrissey song on TV, though in a version sung by someone else. It was on a commercial for the NFL. Er. OK.

I guess the NFL's target audience are not big Smiths/Morrissey fans. Or else, they'd know that the song is really not an upbeat, "Let's go watch the big game!" kinda song. On the contrary, they'd just feel mildly depressed, as I do know. Come, Armageddon! Come! Yes, that's a line from the song, though the ad agency wisely decided to leave that out of the commercial. Here's the rest of the song:

The First Day of School

Today was Hutton's first day of first grade. New school, new teachers, new bus driver. He had half-day kindergarten last year, four days a week. This year, six hour days, five days a week. I was nervous about it. Would he be annoying the teacher from the moment he entered, asking her over and over again, "What time is lunch?" and "When are we going to get lunch?" Or would he only ask once and wait patiently until lunchtime?

While Hutton was at school, Harrison and I had lots of fun. Oh wait, no we didn't. We went first to the Department of Licensing to get my driver's license renewed. [Interestingly, this is listed as a "Driver License" online. I guess they didn't want to mess with that apostrophe. Is it one driver's license, or is this every drivers' license? Hmm. Just take out the apostrophe and S!] The renewal process involved taking a number, sitting several minutes, having my vision checked, then taking a new picture, which looks ass-tastic. Why does my hair always have to look like greasy animal pelts when I'm getting my license picture taken? I washed it! Really! Well, maybe it won't look so heinous when the real license arrives in the mail in a week. Yeah, I'm holding my breath on that one.

Next in our morning tour of fun: the vehicle emissions test station. Yes, my car had to be tested in order to renew my (overdue) car registration. (Did I mention my license also was overdue, expiring on my birthday two weeks ago? Whoops!) Hang out in another line, this time in my car. At least this time I got to listen to the radio.

Next up: Another Department of Licensing. This one for the car registration tabs. I didn't want to risk getting pulled over with expired plates, so I stood in yet another line to get new tabs, rather than do the easy thing and mail them a check. While Harrison and I stood in line, a man with a prosthetic leg came in. Can you guess who pointed at the man and said really loudly, "Look, Mommy! Look at that!" Sigh. I told Harrison it's not polite to point at people, though I'm sure I would've been intrigued by a prosthetic leg and pointed at the man when I was four, too.

After all that fun? I took Harrison to McDonald's. No further comment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hutton got off the bus around 3:20, and I asked him about his day. He didn't tell me much, but I opened his backpack and found a wondrous half-sheet of paper. It was a grid, filled with stars. Down one side were listed the activities of the day, and across the top were the proper behaviors expected of Hutton. Every single grid had a star in it! Twenty-eight stars! I high-fived Hutton and told him how happy, proud, excited, etc. I was that he'd earned all of his stars on the first day of school. Of course, that just means he's set the bar very high for himself this year! We'll see.

Harrison gets the day off tomorrow -- he gets to go back to preschool in the morning, instead of running more fun and exciting errands with Mommy.

Schadenfreude

Is it wrong that I'm really happy right now after hearing the latest with McCain's VP pick?

Oh well.

Happy Labor Day, everyone!

The End of Summer

This is the final week of summer vacation for the boys (and me!). Next Tuesday, Hutton goes to first grade, and Harrison starts his pre-K class Wednesday. This week, I've been doing my best to sleep in, as I realize these lazy sleeping-in weekdays will be over soon.

Hutton turned SEVEN on Saturday! I can't believe I have a child that old. Well, then again, I just turned SOME AGE OVER 30 two Saturdays ago, so it's possible. Just amazing how time flies.

Monday, we went to see Wall-E again with my BFF and her kids. I really do love that movie.

Today, we headed to the Evergreen State Fair in Monroe. Yeehaw! Before hand, I got my name down on a wait-list to rent a hyperbaric oxygen chamber. The phone rang as I was walking out the door, and it was the hyperbaric rental folks! Yes, I convinced Hubby that we needed this, and he agreed. He didn't offer to buy one, however. He said, "OK, rent one for a month and we'll see how it goes." Hey, that's pretty good for Mr. Cynical. So, in October, we're supposed to have a chamber headed our way. Another Yeehaw!

We started our fair day out in a bad way, however. The boys had to use the bathroom as soon as we entered the fair gates. The women's room line was out the door, of course, and Harrison was grabbing his crotch and dancing. Hmm. I very, very stupidly told the boys to go together into the men's room, and then to "Come right out!" after peeing, and we'd wash hands in the women's room. I waited by the door, anxiously, as I started thinking, "Bad idea!" as soon as they boys walked into the men's room without me. Can you guess how that could have possibly gone wrong?

Of course, there was a back door to the bathrooms. Of course, Hutton went out the back door, Harrison went out the front, and when Hutton wasn't with him, I said, "Where's Hutton?" Hmm. My friend's husband went into the men's room. No Hutton. CRAP.

My friend went to the lost kids tent, while I grabbed Harrison's hand and started crying, thinking, "Why do I even bother to try to be normal? What the hell was I thinking that my boys could possibly go to the bathroom without something horrible happening?" Sigh.

A few minutes, that seemed like years, later, my friend received a call on her cell phone. They had Hutton in the lost kids tent. Phew.

When we got there, Hutton was happy to see us, and laughingly told me how he got lost. Glad someone enjoyed it!

Afterward, the rest of the day went well. We spent too much money riding kiddie rides, though the boys and I also went on the Ferris Wheel, which was the highlight of the day for me. We saw some dogs being shown, and toured the barns of various livestock. We ate crappy food, and the boys won some crappy little stuffed animals, but they enjoyed themselves, and we managed to leave with the same number of people as we arrived with, barely.

So, a little reminder to myself that Hutton is not at the stage yet where he can be trusted in a public restroom by himself. It was very stupid of me to believe he was there yet, but lesson learned. However, this time he didn't run off, like he did the last time I lost him (spring of '07 at a birthday party). He simply went out the wrong door, probably following someone else out. Eh. I guess that's some progress.

What a Great Idea!

And for once, I'm not being sarcastic!

Surf on over to Lend 4 Health, a site where you can loan a family money to help them cover the costs of various autism treatments!

I'm going to loan money, but first I have to try to get Hubby to agree to loan me "our money" to buy a hyperbaric chamber so we can start HBOT treatment with Hutton. Think he'll go for it?! I brought it up over dinner (and wine) Saturday, when Hubby once again said that Hutton has brain damage from birth, not autism. (OK, sure sweetie. All of those doctors and therapists are wrong. It looks like a duck and walks like a duck, but it's really a...platypus?) I pointed out that HBOT is a promising new treatment for autism, as well as for, uh, brain damage from birth. We'll see. When I saw the numbers, I realized a hyperbaric chamber ain't exactly something I'm going to cover with a couple of coffee mystery shops, though. Hubby doesn't really drive his car much these days. He usually takes the bus. I'd much rather have a hyperbaric chamber, I think! Somehow I don't think Hubby would agree. We shall see...

Slacker Blogger

Yes, once again, I've let several weeks go by without blogging. Oh well.

Let's see, Harrison has had his second session of swim lessons the past two weeks. Hutton wasn't able to repeat his class, as there wasn't an opening, so instead he went to the playground with me instead of clinging tightly to his swim instructor. Yeah, Hutton wasn't willing to float in the water during his lessons. Needless to say, there will be private lessons in his future.

Last month, during the second week of classes, Harrison got a report card, saying that he was doing fine in the class, but wouldn't bob his head under the water, and in order to move up to the preschool 2 class, he had to bob his head three times. I told him this, and he was quite indignant, claiming he had bobbed his head under twice, and could do it three times. OK, great! So, when we received the report card from this month's classes, guess what it said? If you said, "Harrison didn't do the bobs again!" you're correct! Arrgh. I asked him about it after class, and this time he didn't bother with false indignation, and just said, "I don't want to get water up my nose." All right.

Later, while watching some Olympic swimming, I pointed out to Harrison that all of the swimmers were putting their heads under the water. Hmm. I pointed out to Hutton that all of the swimmers could probably float in the water before they learned to swim, too. Well, we have more swim lessons in our future, I guess, if I want one of my boys to be the next Michael Phelps. Ha.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On Monday, after leaving the pool after Harrison's class, I drove by this bear statue in downtown Kirkland. The sun was shining down through the open sunroof of the car, and I just got this feeling of...not really enlightenment, but along those lines. It was a sense that everything would be all right with Hutton. He's had a pretty good summer. He and Harrison have been playing very well together, though of course, they have their "brotherly moments" meaning there's is violent fighting over Xbox controllers, etc.

But, Tuesday, my sense of not-really-enlightenment was tempered a bit when Hubby and I took the boys to the UW to participate in a scientific study on Autism. Now, I don't really feel that "Science" has given us too much in the autism world, so far. At least mainstream science, or the scientists who seem to believe that autism is solely caused by genetics. But, this study was interesting, in that it involves families with one child affected by autism, and one or more children without autism, as well as neurotypical parents. So, since my family fits that mold, and I saw the poster about the study at the UW, I figured, what the heck. (Plus, the fact that they were going to pay us $250 for a few hours of our time and a little blood didn't hurt!) But really, I figured I'll do my part for science, but didn't expect much from science in return.

When I filled out the paperwork, there was a clear statement that by participating in this study, there really was not anything that would be offered for your child with autism, but this was to help future generations. Hmm. We'll see.

So, I entered the study with my normal degree of skepticism. We showed up at the UW and soon were being weighed and photographed, as well as having our heads measured. Then, we split up. Hubby and Harrison went to get blood samples drawn, and were then free to entertain themselves for the next two hours, whereas I went off to answer questions about Hutton's social, speech, and motor skills, and autistic behaviors for two hours, and Hutton got to play various games and answer questions for two hours. I finished my questions early, and went to sit in and watch Hutton on a monitor for the last twenty minutes or so of his interview.

Let me say, this was just odd. I know from previous testing done by a school psychologist that Hutton doesn't do well in these interview situations. He gets bored, and doesn't really enjoy answering questions or chatting for two hours. I watched him, as the interviewer asked him to tell her a story based on some pictures, show her how to wash his face at the imaginary sink she showed him on the table in front of him, then asked him questions about his friends, family and school.

Question: "Who are your friends, Hutton?" Answer: "Mommy, Daddy and Harrison!"
Question: "Do you have a girlfriend?" WTF? He's 6, and has autism!
Answer: "Amy!" Hey, pretty good!
"Is Amy in your class?"
"She's in my pony class!" She's my friend's daughter, but they did, in fact take a pony class together.
"Do you want to marry Amy?" Again, WTF? He's 6! I don't think he even knows what marry means.
"Yeah." I noticed Hutton answered yes or yeah to many things that I didn't think he understood.
"What do you think is good about being married?" Super duper WTF!
No answer. "What do you think is hard about being married?" Again, no answer, or yeah. Can't remember.
Finally moving beyond marriage questions for the almost 7-year-old boy, who of course, is highly marriage focused. What 7-year-old boy isn't?
"Are you bullied at school?" Yeah, I'm really sure Hutton has any idea of what bullying is.
"Yeah." Call CPS, stat!
"Do people make fun of you?"
"Yeah." Hutton has never hear the terms bully from me, and I've talked about being mean, but not "making fun of."
"What makes you angry?"
"I'm happy!"
"What does it feel like when you're angry?"
No answer.
"What does you feel like inside your body when you're angry?"
"My brain is inside my body!"
"What makes you sad?"
"Be happy!"
"What does it feel like inside your body when you're sad?"
"Yeah."

You get the idea. Oh, and throw in Hutton asking what time they were going to turn off the lights every other question, and looking at the various video cameras and asking when they were going to turn them off. At one point, another researcher mentioned that because of Hutton's high vocabulary, they gave him the questionnaire for older kids. OK, you can see how well that worked. I have no idea what the first hour and a half were like, but based on what I saw, he may as well have answered, "I like tacos!" to every question.

Afterwards, Hutton and I left together, and he asked again when they were going to turn off the lights, and I figured out it was because they were overhead florescent lights, and those tend to annoy Hutton, and he hadn't spent a lot of time under florescent lighting all summer.

We then went for the blood draw. Hutton has had blood drawn before for medical tests, but this time he wasn't going for it. They managed to get the three vials, and he got a lovely SpongeBob bandage, plus a big doggie sticker, and some juice. He looked pale and sweaty, though, so we waited a few minutes before leaving, and I told Hutton how strong and brave he was.

So, that was our contribution to science.

Oh...Wow

Just logged on to Hubby's company's health website to check on the insurance situation with Hutton's ABA, to see if I need to resend any forms for reimbursement (yes, that's long and hard to follow!) and saw this:

News for You

New Children's Vaccines Added

A CDC panel has approved a new two-dose rotavirus vaccine for infants, a five-disease vaccine for infants, and a four-disease booster vaccine for children.

Oh, wow. How did they know I was so into the latest in children's vaccines? Wow! A five-disease vaccine for infants! Sounds sooo safe. Too bad I don't have any infants anymore. But, sign me up for that four-disease booster! Taking both the boys in for it...when hell freezes over.

And just what went into this CDC panel's approval process? Did Paul Offit, a patent holder on the Rotatec vaccine play any part? I'm sure that wouldn't be the case. No conflicts of interest in our beautiful, happy world of pharmaceuticals!

Blech

Well, I'm home. More on that, and the title of my post, later.

We went to California last Thursday for a wedding. The boys were great on the plane, we enjoyed some lovely weather in Aptos, California, and stayed in a hotel at the beach for three nights. Friday, Hubby took the boys to the Monterrey Aquarium while I had lunch with the bride-to-be and my other college friends, followed by manicures and pedicures. Friday night, the boys had fun playing an impromptu game of "octopus tag" with the other little boys at the rehearsal dinner. Octopus tag: One boy had a toy octopus from the aquarium gift shop, and the boys took turns chasing whoever had the octopus. It kept the little guys entertained for a long time.

Saturday, Hubby and I drove the boys to San Jose to spend the day with my stepsister's family. Her son was having his first birthday party, and my stepmother offered to watch the boys at the party, then bring them home with her Saturday night while Hubby and I were at the wedding. That was great, as Hubby and I could relax, and drink, at the wedding, and at a pub afterwards.

Sunday, Hubby and I got to sleep in (real sleeping in, meaning there weren't little boys waking us up every 30 minutes to ask for breakfast, or more breakfast, or wanting to know when we were getting up). We drove across to my stepmother's house in Morgan Hill, and spent the day in the sun. My stepsister and her son drove down, and the boys all enjoyed the slip and slide, though none of them actually did any sliding. They mostly just sat and splashed.

Monday, Hubby, the boys and I drove over to Santa Cruz for the day, and had lunch on the pier, after watching the sea lions for a while. Hubby weaseled out of taking the boys on any rides at the boardwalk by telling Harrison he wasn't tall enough, though I wasn't really feeling up to riding on a roller coaster anyway (more on that below). Afterwards, we drove to the World Famous Mystery Spot. The boys and I had a great time, though Hubby was at his most skeptical. Still, fun was had, and we now have four beautiful Mystery Spot bumper stickers.

We picked lemons from the lemon tree in stepmom's front yard and made lemonade, and Monday night she made a lemon meringue pie which was delicious. I brought home a bag of lemons, and am almost tempted to attempt the pie myself, but am being too lazy.

Tuesday, we came home, and I've been feeling my "depression lite" since. I hate coming home from vacation. The house was fine. The dogs and cats were well-tended by the pet-sitter, as was Finn, the fish. Our, uh, beautiful Triops pet Harrison got for his birthday (well, he got lots of eggs, but only one hatched) was still alive. (It died yesterday, so our petsitter lucked out, as she was very worried about it dying on her watch.) I don't know. I just hate going from enjoying myself, having someone else do most of the cooking, to being back to the old grind. I'm sure others feel this way, too! I did lots of laundry yesterday. It was raining Tuesday when we got off the plane, was gray most of yesterday, and is raining again now. Blech. I've been feeling very slothful. My skin is broken out. I've been feeling "nausea lite" for two freaking weeks. Wait, longer than that. Three weeks. I'm sick of it. I went so far as to take a pregnancy test, but it was negative, and my not-so-faithful Aunt Flo arrived five days late, soon after the negative pregnancy test. That sort of explained the nausea, but then after AF came and went, the nausea stayed. It made the drives on winding California roads lots of fun. And was a reason I didn't insist on taking the boys on the carnival rides at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk.

I really want to go to a doctor, but need to find one. I usually get the most nauseated when I'm taking a shower in the morning, and afterwards, I'll occasionally get these weird spells, where I feel like my brain is completely gone. I can't think of words. It happened today after I showered, and Hutton came in the room, and I tried to tell him something, but couldn't. It's bizarre, and I don't know what to do about it. It only lasts about a minute, but that's long enough. But, considering I don't even have a doctor, that's makes it hard. I think I went to a general practitioner ten years ago, and see a gynecologist every year or so. If anyone knows any good open-minded, naturopathic leaning doctors in the Seattle area, let me know! Oh yeah, and they need to take insurance. As you other mothers may know, it's all about the kids. Especially when you have a child with autism. You spend all your time dealing with autism and trying different things to "heal" your child, and it's very easy to put your own problems on the back burner.

So, blech. That explains how I feel today.

Michael Savage is a Dirty So and So

Read here for a very nice wrap-up, by the wonderful Kim Stagliano, of what I've spent way too many hours reading about over the past few days.

The quick run down (TL;DR): Michael Savage, who apparently is a radio shock jock who I, as a good liberal, had never heard of before last week, said on his show that autism is a fake diagnosis "99% of the time" and that if we parents just sat our little "brats" down and gave them some good old-fashioned discipline, they'd be fine!

Damn! I've wasted so much time with all this therapy hogwash! A good yelling and spanking were all Hutton needed! End sarcasm.

And the fraud thing: Yes, my autism parent friends and I have quite the racket going on. We meet monthly for dinner, not to relax and talk to like-minded parents who understand the stresses of raising children with autism and discuss new therapies and see what's working for each other's kids, but to find out new ways to defraud the government! I mean, gosh, we get sooo much free stuff from our golden ticket Autism diagnosis. Let's see...there's the early intervention preschool, provided you get a diagnosis early enough. Hutton went there for about a month, as he wasn't diagnosed until he was nearly 3. And then there's the special ed preschool, with busing (in the short buses, of course!) provided. And let's see...now Hutton is in elementary school, so we're not really getting anything we wouldn't get if he were typical. Oh, we get a couple of hours a week of speech and occupational therapy from the school, but that's it. Whew! Are all you parents of typical children totally jealous of this awesome racket we've got going? We also can get speech therapy outside of school, because we have good insurance. If you don't have good insurance, you're SOL. And, we have some of the ABA therapy covered, again because we have good insurance. But, we get to pay a lot out of pocket for what insurance doesn't cover.

Now, Savage claims he was just trying to draw attention to the fact that autism is overdiagnosed. Hmm. You know what? All of the kids in Hutton's class with autism diagnoses are just as "quirky" as he is, in different ways. My friends' kids, as well. I have never met a child who has an autism diagnosis that I've thought, "Wow, that kid is totally neurotypical! He's just a brat and his parents are bilking the system!" If I ever see a child with autism showing strong social skills, I don't think, "Fraud!" No, I think, "Wow! He must have been working really hard in school and with his parents and therapists to learn those skills! I wonder if they're trying a new therapy we should try, because I hope Hutton will someday have those skills." And, why in the world would you want your neurotypical child to be in a special ed class if he didn't need it? Does that really appeal to people? Oh boy! My child has autism! I can get him in those awesome overcrowded special ed classes now! I suppose it's possible, but I always thought parents pushed for their kids to be in the class that will challenge them, so they will learn more. Hey, that's how I will be when Harrison is in elementary school!

Anyway, go read Kim's article. I'm too tired to write more, and I need to shower! I played back to back soccer games, and probably don't smell very good.

Oh yeah, and I completely forgot about those pansies at Autism Speaks, who released a statement about how we need to pity poor Michael Savage. No, Autism Speaks, we need to let all of Michael Savage's sponsors know how we in the autism community feel, and that we will not support them if they support this ignorant clown.


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Click here for a good laugh. Well, if you find autism humor funny.

Harrison Quotes

Right now, before bed, Harrison is telling me all the things he can do when he's big, a kick he's been on recently. "Play marble track." (He can do this now, as well as, "Eat grilled cheese!") "I'll have to use your computer. I'll make you coffee."

I don't know about using my computer, but I'm really looking forward to the coffee thing. I love that the boys are both big enough to do things like let the dogs in and out, or hand me the phone. Yes, I'm lazy.

And, a great Harrison quote from yesterday:

As I made the boys their breakfast (GFCF cereal with almond milk, so "making breakfast" is a stretch), I said, "Here are two bowls of cereal for my two beautiful boys!" Harrison said, "We're not too beautiful, Mommy. We're just a little beautiful."

I just had to write that down before I forgot it!

That Was a Long Bath!

As Stacy pointed out, in her comment on my last post, in er, June, I had taken a mighty long bath. Yeah, er. I did take a long bath. It didn't actually last over a month, though. I did some other things, too!

Let's see. School ended. The boys and I flew to Orlando to meet up with Hubby, who was at a conference there, and the in-laws drove down. We spent a week at Disney World, which was fun, but tiring. The hotel pool was great, and after spending the morning and early afternoon at various parks, we'd head to the pool. Hutton didn't nap, but the rest of us took turns taking naps, or we wouldn't have survived! Back at home, it took my over six hours to upload all of my 300 pictures. And my MIL has another 500 or so from her and FIL's camera to send me. Whew!

The boys are now in swim lessons every morning for two weeks. I don't know if they're actually learning anything, but at least they both like going! Hubby finally finished our deck -- he started it last summer, and just had "finishing" work to do on it when he put all the tools away last September. Now, I just have to plant some things around the edges to cover the more "craptacular" areas, as Hubby called them. There's lots of scrap wood, too, that's taunting me, saying things like, "You really want to turn us into something, but you know that won't happen! Just suck it up and throw us away! You're not going to make planters! You're way to scared of power tools!" The scrap wood is right. Well, I have no fear of the power drill/screwdriver, but saws...nope, not happening. Hubby is probably done with all projects for the rest of time. Our washer and dryer were both acting up, so he had to fix those for me, too.

Let's see. What else has happened? Four of my college friends are or were pregnant this year. I am finishing the third knitted blanket, for unborn baby #3, and have a ring sling 90% finished for already born baby #2. (I finished one sling for baby #2 already, but for some reason, was feeling industrious at the fabric store. You know how that goes -- my eyes are bigger than the room on my dining room sewing table. We're having a baby shower in two weeks for baby #4, the same weekend most of us will get together for a wedding. Jen, no pressure to start getting pregnant immediately or anything! The wedding is in Aptos, CA, about an hour from my late father and stepmother's house, so the family and I will go visit with stepmom and stepsister and meet the stepnephew (is that even a word?) who was born just a few days after my last visit last summer.

Two of the baby-mamas have solicited me for vaccination advice, too, which is nice, that they actually look to me for advice. Apparently, they think my study habits have changed since college, and believe I've actually researched these things! Kidding! I have spent so many hours reading about vaccines in the past three years, I feel I should have a degree.

And speaking of vaccines, Amanda Peet, the, er, actress, recently said in "Cookie" magazine that parents who don't vaccinate their children are parasites. Aww! So sweet! Mandy did her research, see. Or rather, was reassured by Paul Offit. The same Paul Offit is a co-patent holder for RotaTeq, the rotavirus vaccine manufactured by Merck. Hmm, no conflict of interest there! Don't bother reading about the cons of vaccines, Mandy! We parents of vaccine-injured children, er, I mean, parasites, are all just crazies who didn't really see our children regress before our eyes after vaccines. Don't look behind the curtain.

It seems whenever I'm ready to move on, get past "the whole vaccine thing" something like this comes up. But, I think it has helped me. Today I grieved for a bit. Something I have kept bottled for a while, so it was good to get it out. I was lying in bed, thinking of all the signs Hutton showed me his first two years of life, clues that his vaccines were harming him, but I was too ignorant to see. New mom syndrome. Believe the doctor. First came the colic. In hindsight, I see it as food allergies to my milk, probably brought on by his first vaccines, at birth and at two months. If I had known then, I would have tried eliminating various things from my diet to see if it helped (most notably cow's milk, which Hutton still reacts to). But, I didn't. I trusted my doctor that colic was just "one of those things" that happens to some babies. Nothing much happened for a while. Then came the ear infections. Again, these were when I started introducing food into Hutton's diet, and were his way of saying, "hey slow down!" I didn't listen. Again, just one of those things some kids get. Of course, he also got more vaccines at the time.

The one that really haunts me though, is the appointment at 15 months. Hutton was due for shots at his "well baby checkup." But he wasn't really well at his appointment. He had an ear infection, plus eczema all over his face, thanks to the cow's milk he had started drinking because I'd just weaned him. It didn't take me long to figure out the cow's milk was the cause of the eczema, and eliminate it from his diet, but it took me longer to figure out that eczema is an autoimmune issue, and I never, in a gazillion years, should have let the pediatrician give Hutton his vaccines that day, when he was sick. But, again, I didn't know these things at the time, and apparently neither did Hutton's pediatrician, or at least, he didn't believe they could harm Hutton. I will give the guy the benefit of the doubt. I really hope he wouldn't knowingly give my child vaccines if he thought they'd harm him.

But, just googling "eczema" right now, the first page I clicked on mentioned halfway down: "Eczema is an auto-immune response to a perceived invader. And there is more and more evidence that food intolerance (as well as food allergy) effects the immune system. Gluten intolerance, Yeast and milk protein (casein) in particular are all strongly linked to auto-immune reactions like skin irritation." Today, Hutton is on a gluten- and milk-free diet and is taking yeast medications, as he's had chronic yeast since the antibiotics he took so many years ago for those ear infections. It makes me want to scream. I would, but Harrison is sitting next to me on the couch. I so wish I had not been so trusting and carefree, but had actually read some differing opinions. Ignorance is bliss. But what do I know? I'm just a parasite. Man, I'm hungry. My host needs to eat.

Still Here

I'm still alive. I have lots of things I should be blogging about. Lots of pictures. Lots of....

Anyway, I'm tired. I need to take a bath. I just played soccer in the pouring -- yes, pouring, in that my shoes were filled with puddles and everything else was soaked -- rain, and did I mention I'm tired?

I'll try to post more tomorrow.

The Sasquatch Festival was wonderful. I'll blog about that. I'll blog about the kids. I'll blog about my plants. And other stuff I can't think about right now.

Time for that bath.

Interesting Updates

Let's see. I survived my week of solo parenting. I had a meltdown (yes, me, not my three-year-old son or son with autism) Saturday night when Hutton woke up while I was attempting to give him his b12 shot. I'd stayed up too late, and then I really just wanted to go to bed, but had to wait for him to fall asleep. Definite Calgon moment.

Sunday morning, though, I had a breakthrough. I slept late (that's one definite plus to my boys - they actually let me sleep in on weekends, though Hutton will usually come in the room 5 or 6 times to ask what time we're going to have breakfast. Yeah, bad mommy!) and when I got downstairs, Old Fergus had peed on his dog bed. Instead of my normal reaction, cursing and yelling, I started humming an upbeat song as I cleaned up the dog bed, stuffed it in the washing machine (thank you front loader! Best appliance purchase ever!) and wiped pee of the floor. As I hummed, I thought, "I am not going to change the fact that Fergus is old and incontinent by yelling at him. He can't control it, and I slept late, so if I'm going to be mad at anyone, it's myself."

Just thinking that seemed to flip a switch in my head. I realized the obvious, but just saying it to myself made it seem so monumental. I can't control the actions of others, or change things like aging dogs with poor bladder control, or cure autism instantaneously, and my prayers to a god I don't really believe in have not been realized in miracle cures. So, that's life. But, I can control my own attitude. (Well, some of the time.) If I choose to get mad about the life I've been given, that won't change things. It won't make the autism disappear, or make Fergus young again. It will probably just shorten my life, as I swear I feel like my 34-year-old heart it going to give out when I get really angry. (Yes, I'm going to see a doctor and have him check my heart, because I'm paranoid. Well, it's on the list. I have a doctor appointment tomorrow, but it's with Hutton's DAN doctor, so that doesn't really count, I guess!) I've thought before that I should figure out how to control my anger, and learn to walk away, but I usually have to yell a bit first. And feel my heart race.

But Sunday, as I hummed a song that I just made up, I didn't feel my heart race. I didn't feel steam trying to escape from my ears. I just calmly cleaned up the dog pee and got on with life. Calm. No yelling. Not even any angry sighing. What a concept! Who would have thought that I, an adult, could control my own emotions? And, of course, it reminds me of my handy little travel mug my friend Jen gave me: the Don't Worry, Be Happy! cup. I have the perfect thing to hum the next time I end up staying up too late or have to clean up dog pee.


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Monday, the boys had "Tiny Tigers" class, their martial arts class. The first two classes, Hutton was not so good in the paying attention area, and anytime during stretches, his toes would end up in his mouth. The past two classes, however, he's done so well! He pays attention most of the time! He attempts the moves the instructor shows him! Last time he even answered when the instructor called roll! Wow!

Monday night, Hubby returned. Hallelujah! I let him give the boys their bath and put them to bed, after he prepared dinner. Aren't I nice to share like that?
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Tuesday was soccer day for all of us. First up: Lil' Kickers for Harrison. The Soccer Mom (the non-obnoxious one) I mentioned here told me she'd taken her son in for an evaluation at Kindering Center, the local early intervention center. She said they didn't have the results yet. I nodded, and felt nervous. I really don't want to hear her son has autism. It's possible his behavior is from being a normal, exuberant 3-year-old who hasn't learned enough English yet to follow directions. I hope that's the case. We'll see.

Hutton's soccer class was...eh. He was a bit better at listening this time (and he didn't put any cones on his head!) but was still quite spacey, and during the scrimmage at the end of the class, he didn't notice when the other team scored against him, twice, while he was standing in goal. Hmm. Maybe martial arts is more suited to him than team sports are.

My soccer game was short-playered, as usual. We had nine, but one player pulled a muscle soon after the game started, so we were down to our regular 8 on 11. The second half we forfeited in order to get the other team to loan us a player. That's fine -- we lose 3 - 0, but actually get to enjoy the second half. Our team motto is: We play for fun and exercise! It's a good motto to have when you win about one game a season. Of course, the games would be a lot more fun if we actually had a full team, but hey, with only eight players, you get a lot more exercise, as you can't sub out. Then again, I don't sprint as much, since I don't want to waste any precious energy. Eh.

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Wednesday's interesting update: While making dinner, Harrison and I were chatting with Hubby. (Hutton was playing upstairs.) I mentioned that Hutton had a doctor appointment today, and Hubby asked which doctor it was with. I told him our DAN! doc, and he asked if we should go to a neurologist. I just shrugged and said, "I don't think a neurologist has anything new to offer." Hubby then said something that made it all finally click. All the questions as to why he seems to have lost interest in helping with the big autism issues. He said....drum roll....
"I don't think Hutton has autism."

Well really, it went like this. He said first, "Doesn't he need another evaluation? He hasn't had a neurologist evaluate him in over three years."

I said, "Why does he need another evaluation? He still has autism." And that's why Hubby dropped the, "I don't think Hutton has autism," bomb.


Silence.... as I took in what he said. And thought, that explains so much. Then I asked the next big question. "What do you think he has then?"

"I think his problem is asphyxiation at birth. Being born blue."

"So, brain damage is Hutton's problem."

"Yes."

I nodded and thought about this. I think being born blue, with the cord around his neck, didn't do Hutton any favors. But that doesn't mean he doesn't have autism. I think the blue baby thing loaded the gun, and the Hep B shot he got less than 24 hours later, pulled the trigger and started the chain of reactions to follow that would further push him into the world of autism. The colic, the ear infections, the eczema, the food allergies we discovered that made sense of the colic, ear infections and eczema, and then, the big A. Was it the "well baby" checkup we went to, when Hutton had eczema on his face and an ear infection, yet he was still "well" enough to get all of his shots? I don't know. There was not a definite regression. It was just that Hutton did not gain any more words to the few he spoke, and preferred to sign "more" to learning more words.

Interesting. Hutton doesn't have autism, according to Hubby. And none of his teachers, or speech therapists, or ABA therapists have noticed this. Wouldn't people who deal with children with autism as their career notice something? No, sorry Hubby, but Hutton was diagnosed with autism at 2 1/2, and he still has it. Is there a difference in Hubby's mind between autism and say, mental retardation or developmental delays because of brain damage at birth? Does the label mean anything, really? Aren't we still going to try to do everything possible to help Hutton, whether he has brain damage or has autism?

I don't know. I did mention to Hubby if he thinks that Hutton's problems stem from his birth, we should look into HBOT (hyperbaric oxygen therapy). He didn't shake his head, at least. I'll have to see if my friend who has a hyperbaric chamber will let us try it out. You never know.

Off to get ready for the big doctor appointment! Anyone want to place bets on whether Hutton has yeast? 2 to 1 odds. Just kidding.

My Special Week

This has been a rough week. Hubby went out of town (to Vegas of all places, on business, of course!) Sunday evening. He came home Thursday night. And left again Friday morning, before any of us woke up. He'll be back on Tuesday, I think.

My beloved, Sirius, my superautomatic espresso machine, developed a leak last week. Well, he's had a slight leak before, but it got worse last week. I started to despair. I called a repair shop, but decided I didn't really want to spend $175 and lose my machine for over a week to have him fixed. More despair. But, then I channeled my late father, the engineer (no, not the train kind), and opened up Sirius. I found the special screw drivers in Hubby's tool box, then found a diagram of Sirius's inner workings online, then figured out he had a loose tube. I fixed it, but he was still leaking. I realized one of his plastic valves was cracked and leaking. I put some duct tape on it, and ordered a metal replacement part.

Let's see, in the meantime, Hubby left town, and I realized how hard it is to be a single mom, for even a few days at a time. Monday was fine. It was the first day of solo parenting. The boys did great in their new martial arts class Monday afternoon. This was the third class. The first two classes, Hutton didn't listen well, and during any stretches, he'd end up with his toes in his mouth, chewing on his toenails. Yeah, that's fun to watch. (Harrison, on the other hand, stood petrified during the first class, but started participating during the second one.) But, this Monday Hutton actually listened and attempted to follow the instructor! I had used the "if you listen in class, and don't chew on your toenails, you can call Daddy!" bribe. It worked! Phew!

However, Tuesday, that didn't work. Hutton had soccer in the afternoon, and didn't listen at all. He spent most of the class putting a cone on his head, then at the end of class stepped on some plastic floor markers after the instructor asked him not to, and Mommy was losing it. He didn't get to call Daddy, and I was annoyed and ready to get away. Fortunately, I got the name of a babysitter from one of my soccer teammates, and she came on Tuesday night so I could go play soccer. The babysitter said the boys were hyper, but fine, and mentioned they both laughed about Hutton's soccer cone experience. Hmm. But, I have a new babysitter! Unfortunately, she's a high school senior, so it's a not a long-term solution.

Wednesday, my new espresso machine valve arrived. I put it on, but forgot to put on a new pin and after I got everything put back together, I ran the hot water on the machine, and a tube came off, spilling water in the machine and causing it to shut off (some ground fault interrupter thing). Grrr. I couldn't get the machine to turn on again (yep, it's gone from "Sirius" to "the machine." See what happens when you mess with me!) I was in despair again.

Thursday, I plugged Sirius in. He powered on! Hallelujah! However, the coffee beans I'd added the day before were preventing me from putting the lid back on correctly, and without the lid on, I couldn't actually make a cup of coffee, so I waited until after getting the boys to school before tackling that issue. I had to dump out the beans, and clean them out of all the little crevices when they spread all over when I tried to dump them out, then put the lid on, then he finally worked. Of course, there are still some issues I need to figure out. His grounds are awfully damp, instead of the nice solid pucks he used to put out. Yeah, it is something I need to fix.

Thursday afternoon, we went to my friend's house and had a nice time in the sun. The sun came out, which was wonderful, after our gray April. The boys and I then went to get a new fish. Finn (really Finn 2, but the boys don't know that) died when I was out of town in Philly, so we got a replacement fish. Harrison calls his Carp. I call him Glub-Glub.

Thursday night Hubby returned. Hallelujah! He brought me all the chocolates that had been left on the pillows of two beds in his hotel room in Vegas, as well as the lovely smelly soap he didn't use from the hotel. What a guy! But then he screwed me (cough, er, cough) by leaving again before dawn on Friday. He's off to see Warren Buffett, along with 25,000 other people. And I get the dentist appointment with both boys. Lucky me.

After the dentist fiasco, we headed to the UW for Hutton's ABA appointment. The boys had a "playdate" which ended with Playdoh. Guess who ate some, after I told him specifically, "Do not put your fingers in your mouth! DO NOT EAT THE PLAYDOH!" Sigh. So, I reiterated to the boys as we left yet another appointment with Mommy in a bad mood, that I really needed the boys to listen to me, as I was barely getting by, and I brought up again how their teeth would fall out because they wouldn't let the dentist look at them, etc. I finished the day by napping on the couch while the boys watched TV. Classic mothering skills on display this week. Then, I made the boys pasta for dinner, while I had potato chips and a chocolate Easter bunny. One nice thing about not having Hubby in town: I don't have to cook for him.

So, I have a whole weekend to keep the boys entertained. Wish me luck!

The Dentist. Sigh.

The title pretty much sums this post up, but I'll elaborate.

I made an appointment for both of the boys to get their teeth cleaned. I thought I made it for Saturday morning (meaning tomorrow), but apparently I'd actually made it for today. So, after sleeping in, then taking a leisurely shower, I ran to get the phone at 10:05 a.m. It was the dentist's office. Were we on our way to the appointment? Uh. Crap.

The boys hadn't eaten breakfast yet, nor had I. They had had some strawberries they found in the fridge, but not real breakfast. Crap. I ran downstairs and made their breakfasts, then ran upstairs and got dressed. We ran out to the car and I sped to the dentist's office, only thirty minutes late! Go, Laura.

Hutton was first. The hygienist attempted to get x-rays of his teeth. Yeah, good luck with that. Hasn't happened yet, and didn't happen again today. Then, the cleaning. Two, yes, two teeth were polished. Then, Hutton started saying, "I want water." He didn't want the little tube, he wanted to drink from a cup. Then he wanted to use the bathroom. He kept grabbing the polishing wand, blah blah blah. Uh, let's try Harrison. He wouldn't get in the chair. The hygienist suggested he sit in my lap. Good idea! He's in my lap. But refuses to open his mouth. All the bribery of a new toothbrushes, balloons, and vending machine crap in the lobby didn't work. I left, dragging my children and their probably cavity-ridden teeth, behind me, and vowing next time their father would bring them.