I'm On a Roll

Well, after only posting a few times the first two months of 2008, I seem to be on a blogging binge. The reason? Well, there's a lot going on! Also, Hubby went out of town this morning, so instead of going out for lunch and other Saturday family activities, I'm choosing to stay home. While the boys play, I'm getting caught up on "paperwork".

Let's see. This post will be about Autism. Or, a certain little boy I know and love with Autism. Or, two autistic behaviors Hutton performed today that annoyed me.

One: I had to go to the grocery store today with both boys, after dropping Hubby off at the airport. Hutton was upset about not getting home at 11 a.m. to play Madagascar. I'd told him we'd be home at 11 when he asked, "When are we going to play Madagascar?", but realized I had to get gas for the car, and I needed a few things from the grocery store. So, when we were in line at the grocery store, after only five minutes of shopping, which isn't normally a problem, he started melting down. First, there were the tears about going home to play Madagascar, followed quickly by the SCREAMING. Gotta love when your child screams in the grocery store. Especially when your child is 6 years old, and old enough to know better, according to all the dirty looks being thrown your way by everyone in the vicinity. I did the classic recovery technique: I covered Hutton's mouth with my hand while whisper- yelling in his ear, "We DON'T scream in the grocery store! Mommy has to get this done before we go home, and I'm sorry you're frustrated, but this is how the world is. Get over it!" I didn't go so far as to say something about Autism out loud, though if the screaming had continued, I might have. You know, the mumbled sort of explanation, "He has Autism. He can't help it!" The public screaming is my pet-peeve of Autism behaviors, and I'm clearly not cut out for dealing with it, as evidenced by my "fight yelling with more yelling (though of the whispered variety)" technique. Though, of course, screaming could just be a normal way for a boy to get out of doing something he doesn't like -- grocery shopping.

Two: After lunch, Hutton went upstairs while I was still downstairs with Harrison eating lunch. He came down a few minutes later, and sat down next to me. I gave him a hug, and my brain slowly picked up on a signal from my nose: the smell of cat food.

"Hutton, did you eat CAT FOOD?!!" He, of course, said, "No!" as I sniffed his hands and had him open his mouth, revealing the tell-tale aroma of Savory Blends. Sigh. I went over with him that cat food is for CATS and he isn't to eat it or handle it, that it has gluten and other things little boys shouldn't eat, etc. Then, I went over with him again (we'd done it in the car after the grocery store melt-down, as well) the proper behavior in public places: We don't yell in public places. It makes Mommy angry and frustrated. Blah blah blah.

Can I take a nap yet?

The Joys of Boys

Pretty boring around here. It's nice and sunny today. Yesterday was sunny, too. Harrison played on the swings while I attempted to take out a couple of tree stumps with a pick ax. Not the best tool for the job, but I'm too scared to get out the chain saw. Maybe I'll try it if Harrison takes a nap tomorrow...

Today was speech therapy at 9 a.m. We were doing great time-wise. The boys finished breakfast at 8 a.m., and I headed upstairs to get dressed. I told Hutton, "Please go get dressed!" and ran upstairs. I ran down a few minutes later to help Harrison find his shoes. Hutton was sitting in the bathroom in his pajamas, playing with the toothbrushes. "Sweetie, please put those away and get dressed!" Ran back upstairs to put on some makeup. Couldn't figure out which lame shirt to wear. "Hmm, it's cold out now, but will be warm later. What should I wear?" As if anyone who sees me in the lobby of the speech therapist's office, or at the pet store, or anywhere else I will go today cares. Finally picked out a cotton shirt with a matching cardigan. Ran downstairs, annoyed that it took me so long to get ready. That's OK, we'll still make it on time...

...Or not. Hutton is sitting on his bed. Naked. Not dressed. Not at all. Angry Mom comes out of hiding. "HUTTON! PUT YOUR CLOTHES ON NOW!!!!"

Six minutes later, we're leaving, six minutes later than we need to leave to have any chance of making it on time. Angry Mommy is still bitching for the first five minutes of the drive, making sure to drive home to Hutton that when Mommy asks him to get dressed, she in fact wants him to put his clothes on. She doesn't want to have to repeat herself more than once. Blah blah blah. The steam eventually escapes from my head, and Partly Sane Mommy returns. We are only 10 minutes late. Not the end of the world, right? Our speech therapist still gets paid for 60 minutes of work, right?

Harrison and I then went to the pet store, to pick up some cat food for Tully, that will hopefully not be contaminated with gluten or melamine or whatever the hell killed other poor, unfortunate pets elsewhere. After the pet store, we headed to Payless. I wanted some shoes for doing yard work in, and picked up some of those plastic clogs. Harrison insisted on looking at shoes for himself. (A boy who likes to shop? What's not to love about that? I don't have a daughter, after all!) He wanted "racecar shoes" -- the Lightning McQueen "Cars" sneakers. I lied and told him they didn't have his size since he had some month old sneakers from Stride Rite. He started getting fussy, so I plied him with some camo rainboots. That did the trick, until we got to the register and he looked at the glasses, and wanted new sunglasses. There were only women's glasses, but the cashier "helpfully" pointed out where the kids' sunglasses were. They had "racecar" sunglasses for $8. The same sunglasses we had at home, just with a Lightning McQueen decal on the side. Joy. I asked Harrison if he wanted them, and he yelled, "NO!" Hmm. Fine. I bought the shoes and we left. Immediately, Harrison started crying about the racecar sunglasses. Moments later, full blown tantrum over racecar sunglasses. I dragged him, literally kicking and screaming, out of the mall and to the car, politely explaining that he had said "no" when I asked if he wanted the glasses, and we didn't have time to go back now. "Racecar sunglasses!" Between tightly pursed lips, "Harrison, you didn't want the sunglasses when we had the chance to buy them." "Racecar sunglasses!" Sob, sob. "This is what we call a missed opportunity." RACECAR SUNGLASSES!" Repeat for five more minutes.

Dragged Harrison, still screaming, to the speech therapist's office, got Hutton, dragged Harrison, still screaming, back to the car. Finally explained to Harrison that if he wanted to go to art class in the afternoon, he must stop screaming. Miraculously, it worked. He stopped screaming and we all enjoyed the ride home.

At home, I gave him the regular sunglasses with no Cars stickers. He excitedly put on his "racecar sunglasses". Wow. Who knew.

Another Busy Weekend

Golly, I've accomplished so much this weekend! Yesterday I got up late, showered and went to the grocery store, sans kiddies. Last night I stayed up so late I got to watch the local Seattle "comedy" show from the early 90s, "Almost Live." It comes on after Saturday Night Live, and is surreal in just how cheesy and 80s the performers and audience members all look. You'd never know from watching the show that the grunge scene was happening in Seattle at the time. I then watched some "Excess" weekend show, and a infomercial from a local builder, Quadrant Homes. (Gee, I sure wish I had a spacious new Quadrant Home, instead of my mid 80s fixer upper! It really seems so fun and easy to build a home to my exact specifications!) I was growing tired, by the time the infomercial started over again, but the big yarn ball I was attempting to untangle was still tangled, and I wasn't going to bed until it was untangled, by gum! (Do you like my new words I'm using instead of curses?)

Anyway, after going to bed around 3 a.m., I was cursing myself for being stupid silly. (Yeah, even stupid gets the cut -- thinking of words I don't want my almost 3-year-old using! Because, you know he's reading my blog!) I mean, I already have a cough and sore throat. Did I really think going to bed at 3 a.m. iss the best way to optimal health?

This morning, the boys were up around 8, and Hubby had a conference call with some guy in Germany - yes, that's why it was at 8 a.m. on a Sunday - so I had to get up to get the boys breakfast. After feeding children and pets, I promptly went back to bed for three more hours. Ahh, that's the way I like to spend my weekends - pure sloth!

I've had a bad weekend NCAA basketball-wise. On Matt-Man's blog, he posted about his tournament bracket the other day, and I'd commented that I didn't really care if Duke wins, but really didn't want UNC to win. Matt-Man assumed this was because I went to NC State, but no, I went to Duke (or, the Evil Empire, as Hubby's Evil Cousins who went to UNC call it). Anyway, the reason I didn't really care if Duke won was because of their mediocre regular season, and it's a young team, so I wasn't expecting much from them. (Drat, I've failed my team, by not believing in "The Secret"! If only I'd thought more about them winning, the would have blocked that last shot the other day!) So, Duke lost, and the REAL Evil Empire won yesterday. The only silver lining was Hubby's school, Vanderbilt, won yesterday. Of course, I wouldn't have been sad if they lost. Sour grapes.

So, it's 1 p.m, I'm still drinking coffee* and wearing my pjs, and the boys are asking about lunch, so I suppose I better go.

Oh yeah, in addition to getting to the grocery store, I also did a gazillion loads of laundry. That's all the excitement I have in store for me this weekend!

*Today I had a crazy idea, and made my double shot latte with chocolate almond milk instead of regular cow's milk. It's really good! I have gone milk-free before -- when I was a newlywed, I drank soy milk for a year -- but it never lasts. We'll see how almond milk thing does. It works on coffee, but I don't know if I can handle regular almond milk in my cereal.

Oh yeah, Part II -- I only posted this, er, exciting post, because McEwen called out my lazy ass! (I still use ass, because here I'm comparing myself to the animal, of course.)

Never a Dull Moment

BetsySally

This evening, I decided I couldn't wait any longer, and had to make another grocery store run. I'm out of milk, which means I can't drink my double lattes in the morning. I substituted almond milk today, and let me just say...NO. Don't try that again.

So, I got the boys in the car. Well, first I disassembled Hutton's carseat, because he's 41 pounds now, and therefore too big for the harness on the carseat, so it was time to convert it to a booster. I didn't realize what all this entailed until I attempted to take the harness off the carseat. Thirty minutes, a screwdriver, and some baby wipes later, we were back in business. Off to get groceries.

I pulled up to the stop sign at the end of my street, and saw a dog run across the busy road, narrowly being missed by a car. I got out of my car, and the dog came running up, and very sweetly licked my hand. I checked its collar. No tags. After looking around for possible owners for a few minutes, I got the dog into the car, and headed off to the grocery store again. Spent an hour in the grocery store, looking at all the possible foods. Found some cereal, more rice tortillas, rice pasta, and even rice pizza crust! (Well, rice and potato.) I then came home, stopping by the stable across the street to see if anyone knew the dog in the back of my car. No luck.

So, "Betsy," as Hutton has dubbed her, made herself at home, had some dog food with Sally and Fergus, and is currently being chased around by the boys. For some reason, a strange, new dog is very much more exciting than the dogs we already have. Betsy has been getting many pats.

I made the new pizza crust, with marinara sauce, spinach, basil and grated carrots on top. (No dairy in the new diet, remember?) The boys both ate it, and I found it acceptable. Not the best fake pizza I've ever had, but not any worse than the regular crappy frozen pizza Hubby likes!

Now, I'll try to make a "Found Dog" flyer, but our printer is pretty crappy, so I don't know if they'll turn out OK. We'll see!



Betsy and Fergus waiting for dropped food
"Pizza"
Hutton
Harrison and Tully