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?
~~~~~~~~~~~~

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.

Sick and Tired

I went to New York City this past weekend for a friend's wedding, sans children and husband. I had a great time with my college friends, but am sick now, and got home to a sick child. Harrison has some sort of chest cold - wheezy and croupy coughing during the night, better during the day. Hopefully we will both be better soon!

Oh, and I'm tired because I've averaged 6.25 hours of sleep a night since Thursday's red eye flight to NY, with adolescent boy next to me putting his bare feet on my leg keeping me from getting a good night's sleep - er, make that a good 3 1/2 hours sleep - on the flight out. Oh well. Guess I should go down early tonight, huh? Nothing like 6 hours of sleep to really help a cold.

If any of you college friends remembered how to find this blog, please comment! (I gave them all the info on it, but I doubt anyone was sober enough to remember!)

Why Are You Trying to Pin Me Down?

Oh, wait, never mind.

I got a new digital camera to replace the one I had that was not working well. I filled in the product registration for some reason, even though that sort of thing is not generally helpful to me, and then filled out a survey afterwards. The last question:

What is your gender?
Male _
Female _
No Answer _

~~~~~~~~~~~

Britney!!

I forgot that Britney was going to be on the MTV Video Music Awards last night until it was too late to watch, so I hunted it down online. You can find it here now.

So, I was a bit shocked. I'd read that it was bad, but it was really like watching a train wreck. I feel bad for everyone involved, especially Britney. But then I think, "Wait, she's got millions of dollars. Why am I feeling sorry for her?"

My fave line about the "performance": "The over all effect was that of an out-of-shape hooker with an inner ear infection." (From here)

For the Kids

In honor of the first week of school last week, I have a lesson today for the kids out there. What, no kids read this blog? Hmm. Well, any immature adults? OK, you'll do just as well.

Today's lesson: Things that don't mix.

First we have oil and water. This is called immiscibility. Can you say immiscibility? No, I can't either. If you're actually interested in reading about immiscibility, you'll have to go here. I don't do chemistry.

What else doesn't mix?

Let's see, there's peanut butter and tuna fish. Haven't tried those together on a sandwich, and don't plan to.

There's paint and hair. Paint doesn't come out of hair easily.

There's gum and hair. Gum comes out of hair with peanut butter, but then you need to get the peanut butter out of your hair.

There's also Silly Putty and hair. Silly putty is quite a cool little invention created by a General Electric engineer during World War II, when the US needed to come up with a synthetic rubber compound. The boric acid/silicone oil combination didn't work for its intended purpose, but made a nifty toy! And it has some other uses, which is why Hubby keeps an egg of it on his desk. I can't remember what he uses it for, but it's there, and it's tempting to little boys like Hutton. He's often getting into his Daddy's Silly Putty, and I'm always telling him to please put it back and not play with things on Daddy's desk.

So, this morning as I was showering, I heard Hutton getting upset in the other room, crying and calling for me. Showers are short around here. I got out and called Hutton into the bathroom, where he was holding his head and saying something was stuck.

Now, kids, can you guess what Hutton had stuck in his hair? Did you say Silly Putty? Great job! You're right!

I looked at the mess in front of me and started tugging at putty, while holding Hutton's hair at the roots so as not to pull it all out. This didn't work very well, so I got the biggest chunk of putty out (along with a lot of hair) and told Hutton to hold tight while I went to find Silly Putty removal options on the computer.

I googled "Silly Putty and Hair" and clicked on the first likely website. I scrolled to the bottom of the comments and found that hand sanitizer and Pam cooking spray were two recommended options. I knew we didn't have any Pam in the house, and I didn't have any hand sanitizer handy, but I did have some hand sanitizing moisturizer on my desk, so I grabbed that and squirted a glop into Hutton's hair. Didn't do too much. I read further: alcohol was another option. I took Hutton back to the bathroom, doused the back of his head in rubbing alcohol, and grabbed Hubby's comb. It did the trick, plus now Hubby's comb is all sanitized! Great!

Now, look at the picture below and tell me what you think it is:

If you said, "Something your cat left on your doorstop!" then, I'm sorry, but you're wrong. (Though it does look like something a cat might have hacked up.) The correct answer is, of course, "Silly Putty and hair!" Silly Putty and hair do not mix, as I hope you've learned from this little lesson. I hope that Hutton has learned this lesson, too, though he had to learn it the hard way.


As I combed his hair, I told him over and over, "This wasn't a very good idea. Please don't ever put Silly Putty or anything else sticky in your hair!" We'll see how his listening comprehension is.

We're going to be working on some different bald spot covering hairstyles for a while. Unfortunately, the two cowlicks on the back of Hutton's head don't cooperate with many hairstyles.

Time for My Weekly Post!

Yeah, it seems I've fallen to weekly posting. Sigh.

Hubby is still working on our deck. The boys and I went to the library today. I had a new book to pick up, and the boys always love getting more library books. We followed that up with a trip to the park.

Hoo, boy, do we know how to have an exciting Labor Day weekend, or what?!

I'll let you know what I think about the book when I finish. I've only read about forty pages, but those have made me feel like we're on the right track with Hutton -- he's getting MB-12 shots for his methylation, which is important for detox. I have definitely noticed a big improvement in his verbal skills over the past 6 weeks since we've started the shots. Now I need to start adding in other things since we know that the shots are working for us. Hmm. That means we've got some lab work we need to do, as well, which is always fun. Lab work = collecting blood, urine and stool. Now who doesn't think that sounds fun?!

Let's see. The room I'm in looks like toy bomb exploded. The litter box needs to be cleaned. (I need to write a post on our new kitties, don't I?) I need to make dinner. None of those can be done by keyboard...yet! When I've perfected my keyboard-run robot I'll let you all know.

Speaking of robots, last night when I was making dinner, the boys (meaning Hubby, Hutton and Harrison) watched the last half hour of "I Robot" on TV. I caught a few minutes, and found the dialogue cheesy, with all those computer-generated special effects being the only thing going for the movie. Hubby commented, "Yeah, it's really necessary to have a computer mainframe with an 8 story drop-off" during the scenes when they try to dismantle the evil robot mainframe. Harrison commented, "That was a good movie!" after it was finished, so hey, at least he enjoyed it! Hutton thought the robots looked cool, and laughed at them climbing buildings. So, two out four ain't bad.

And to Think, I Actually Paid Money for This Crap

(That was typed "carp" first. But I fixed the typo because I didn't want to mislead anyone into thinking I was blogging about goldfish, and have them be terribly disappointed!)

Check out this link. Click on the picture of the cute little baby to read the article, first.

Essentially, she took the blog entry right out of my brain! I was reading Parents Magazine in the bathtub last weekend, and I got to the page mentioned above, and steam literally started coming out of my ears. Well, OK, maybe the steam was coming off the hot water, but still....

My thoughts (the ones I had in the tub, but didn't get around to blogging about last weekend. And then I had the magazine in my car and spilled some caramel sauce on it. It's a long story involving lattes. You really don't want to know.): First the "Autism Update" was some stupid "study" that supposedly disproves any connection between vaccines (or, the mercury in them) and Autism, because the mothers of children with Autism were no more likely to have had the RhoGAM shot than other mothers (of non-autistic children, I assume). And that proves what exactly? Some mothers get a RhoGAM shot because it supposedly protects their unborn babies with an incompatible blood type from the mother. Before 2001, these shots had thimerosal (a mercury-based preservative). After 2001, they apparently took out this super-important ingredient for some reason. (No, not because it's bad for you. Really, it's perfectly fine to have lots of mercury in your body. Ask those dentists who still use mercury fillings in your teeth. Or that Mad Hatter character from Alice in Wonderland.)

So this study says there's no connection with women receiving the RhoGAM shot having a greater incidence of children with Autism. Great. Good for them. But you know what? I had a shot containing mercury when I was pregnant with Hutton. A flu shot. In fact, I had two of them. Because the first does supposedly doesn't cover you. And I fell for the hype. "Oh no! The flu! You'll die! Run for you life! Get a shot! You're a pregnant but otherwise healthy woman, but without this shot you're doomed!" And just in case that wasn't enough, I had my eight mercury fillings leaking mercury vapor with every hot or cold drink I had. Coffee and milkshakes? Yes, please! My baby would like some more mercury! And then, in case Hutton didn't get enough mercury in my uterus, he was injected with his first mercury-containing shot just hours after birth, when he came out blue from having the cord wrapped around his neck. Hmm. We'll just give him some oxygen in the NICU to get him good and pink before we further tax his little immune system with an unnecessary shot. Yes, I'm calling the Hep B shot unnecessary. Hutton did not, in fact, leave the hospital to go shoot up drugs and have unprotected sex soon afterwards. Now, it's possible a Hep B infected druggie or crack whore could have run up to us while we were leaving the hospital and injected him with a dirty needle, but not really probable.

So, the fact that I didn't receive the RhoGAM shot and still have a child with Autism means nothing to me. This study doesn't make the vaccine-Autism theory immediately disappear, as far as I'm concerned.

And, please, don't look at the cute little baby above the story and assume he or she has Autism. That would be just horrible. That's why Parents added that neat little disclaimer: The child pictured is a model and is unrelated to the issue described in the text. God forbid a child have Autism. It affects 1 in 150 now, but rest assured that the model doesn't have it and your child couldn't possibly get if from your RhoGAM shot. Back to your normal lives.

Yes, I'm tired of these parenting magazines. I think it's time to cancel my subscription.

Blah-de-blah, Blah-de-blah

Too much going on in my poor little brain to actually blog lately. Easier to sit on my butt reading other people's words, sipping cold coffee I'm too lazy to go reheat.

Let's see. School starts September 4th. Hutton's TK class -- the one he took last year, with the evil teacher -- is doing a job-share this year. A new teacher (!!) will be there Monday and Wednesday, regular old megabitch on Tuesday Thursday. I'm going to try it out for a month to see if it works. If not, I'll start annoying the special education director again. It's the lazy mother approach. I'm a lazy mother, so it works for me.

Harrison is still not potty trained. He can pee on the potty, he just chooses not to most of the time. Sigh. We'll see if I can still get him into his preschool class. I keep telling him if he wants to go to school, he has to use the potty like a big boy. He always says, "I'm a big boy!" but when you're peeing in a diaper that doesn't mean much.

My desk is a big mess. I have to find a new speech therapist and a new home therapist. Our current home therapist is pregnant, so I have until November, and it would be nice to have some overlap time for the new therapist to work with the current one.

Sigh. Ever have one of those days weeks years when you don't feel like doing anything?

Hubby has been working on the deck all weekend. I didn't have a party for Hutton on his sixth birthday. We went to the State Fair on his birthday instead, with my best friend and her kids. It was fun. Hot, but not unbearable. We saw lots of cute farm animals, and rode on some kiddie rides. Well, the boys did. I rode on the kiddie roller coaster with them, and bought the picture.

I'm the one in front, partially blocked by the red afro of the girl in front of me. You can't see my friend's daughter in the picture. She's sitting next to me, and is probably hiding behind the red afro. I'm not sure if it's technically an afro, since I don't know what race the girl was, and I don't like to be racist when it comes to hair, so why don't we call it fluffy hair? The adorable boys behind me are Hutton (taller one) and Harrison (shorter one). I love the faces of the other kids on the ride, as well, especially the back row. You'd think we were on the Tower of Terror. I also have the picture from that ride, which Hubby and I went on when we went to Disney World when we were dating, eleven years ago.

I'll try to be a better blogger. We'll see!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh, in follow up to this post, I had a wonderful birthday dinner. Hubby and I went to a really, really great restaurant, and ended up taking much longer than I'd thought, so we kinda screwed over the babysitter. Well, we did pay her a lot of money for being late, and she told my friend she liked my kids and didn't mind, and she'd like to sit for us again. Yeehaw! I didn't know where we were going until Hubby came home, and I neglected to read the website for the restaurant which said, "Please allow 4 to 5 hours for dinner." Yes, that's right. This restaurant serves 9(!!) courses, and into our fifth hour, we cut out early, missing part of the eight and ninth courses. We got a to go-box with the little truffles they were serving, but missed out on the 1910 Madeira wine. Oh well. Next time Hubby decides to spend that much on dinner (yeah, right!) I'll find a babysitter who can stay all night.

It's My Party and I'll Bitch if I Want To

Well, there's not a party. Not even a dinner. And I'm pissed. No, I don't need a birthday party. In fact, I don't really like birthday parties. They're OK every once in a long time, but really, after a certain age (post college for me) I think they're kinda silly, unless you're getting the whole family together to celebrate Uncle Hughey's 85th or something like that.

But, Hubby and I did make plans to go out tonight to celebrate my birthday. The night after the real day, but Hubby had to work late yesterday, so whatever. Friday night sounded great. A night out for the first time in months. We went out to dinner on our 10th anniversary in June, but other than that, haven't gone out together since December probably, when we visited family and left the kids with grandparents. So, I searched around and found a babysitter who seemed nice and professional, had good references, etc. I was so looking forward to dinner, and dare I dream, possibly a movie, with Hubby! Whoa. Craziness. I saw Ratatouille with the boys last week, and that was my big summer movie. Make that my first movie of 2007.

So, yesterday was nice. I met my friend and her kids at a farm that has kiddie rides, and the boys had a great time, as did I. I was tired when I got home, and didn't really want to deal with getting dinner ready by myself since Hubby was working late, but hey, I had Friday night to look forward to. I could do it!

I checked my email around 6, then went to make dinner, get the boys ready for bed, etc. I checked my email again before bed at 11:30 or so. And saw this:

Dear Laura,

Good evening. I feel awful about this but I am not going to be able to come over tomorrow evening. I know you will most likely not want to hire me in the future as this is very unprofessional. I have had something happen that I must attend to tomorrow evening and that is all I can say. I am so sorry for all of the inconvenience I am sure this will cause to your plans.

Regretfully yours,

Super Megabitch

Arggh! I told Hubby that I'd try to find another babysitter today, but so far no one has called me back. This just sooo pisses me off. I know it's just a stupid dinner and (possibly) movie, but when you don't get to go out with your husband more than a couple times a year, its something you really look forward to.

And, once I start wallowing in self-pity, I think that I have no idea if Hutton will be able to live on his own as an adult, let alone be left at home without a babysitter when he's a teenager, so I can't look forward to that: "Only seven more years and you can go out to dinner again!" Hmm. If I wait ten years maybe Harrison can be the babysitter for himself and his brother. Well, that will be a great 44th birthday, then! Can't wait!

It's My Birthday. Go Ahead, Worship Me!

Yes, it's my birthday again! I share it with my sister-in-law and Madonna, and it's also the anniversary of Elvis' death. So, it's a day of joy and sadness. Sadness if you hate Madonna or love Elvis. Joy if you love Madonna or hate Elvis. See?

This morning as I was checking my email, I scanned for things that looked personal and birthday-ish. Saw a note from my sister, and then I saw something about an e-card.

Now, the past month or so, I've had tons of spam masquerading as e-cards from friends, loved ones, and colleagues. Of course, they're always listed that way -- "A friend has sent you an e-card!" or "A relative has sent you a new card! Click here to read it!" or, "A co-worker has sent you a card!" Hmm. I don't have a job. Or friends. I know they're scams! I always delete these instantly, though if you scroll over the address they're from, they are usually from some spammer's address, not a legitimate site where a card might come from.

So, this morning, I found this one particularly amusing:

Your Worshipper has sent you Birthday postcard from superlaugh.com.

Click on your card's direct www address below: [insert fake link here]

My what? Hold on a second. The person who wrote this spam thing actually thinks people who read this will believe someone worships them? Well, I'm sure someone somewhere is narcissistic enough to be well on their way to having their hard drive infected with spyware at this very moment! Just not me.

OK, I do think that I'm being worshipped somewhere. Come out, worshippers! Show yourselves! We will restore the glory of the earth through my ministry!

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

A bit related, but this morning I was thinking that this is my 34th birthday, which means I've lived longer than Jesus did. Then again, I didn't have a band of followers and change the world. I also didn't get crucified. Hmm. There's always this year, right?

I LOVE This Show

FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS!

I had a few episodes TiVoed, and when my mom was in town, we watched a couple. Monday night I watched three more back to back, and I laughed more than I have in ages.

It's a freaky weird show and you should watch it now! Or at least a clip, if you don't get HBO. Some background, Bret and Jemaine are the two members of "Flight of the Conchords," and they came to NYC from New Zealand to get their band more recognition. Their manager, Murray, works at the New Zealand consulate and has awesome posters in his office like: "New Zealand! It's not part of Australia" and "New Zealand: Why Not?" Anyway, the last episode had Murray taking the boys on a "warm-up tour" of some hotel lounges in New Jersey.

Right before this scene below, the guys had given a women's water polo team their room number in the hopes they'd get to hook up with them. Earlier in the episode they both bought "rock star" leather suits with their per diem money; the suits promptly shrank when they got stuck in the rain. You can see the short arms of the jackets as this clip opens.