Cabin Fever!!!

My husband and I have been married for five years, and have been together going on eight years, so I have become accustomed to his seasonal routines to say the least.  My husband reacts to the seasons as much as the trees do.  In the summer, he is ready for fun in the sun.  We are outside every night, and if for some reason we don't get the family out, he gets outs taking walks or whatever can get him outside.  In the fall, he is as happy as a stuffed pig.  No, its not the because the trees are turning beautiful colors; its because hunting season starts.  Holy cow, this is huge to him.  I am not sure if he likes the hunting or that fact that he has an excuse to sit in the woods for hours on end.  He gets out well before dawn and stays sometimes well after the sun sets.  He comes home pumped up, excited for his next trip out. For Spring, well everyone know whats in spring....no, well of course its trout fishing!!!!  Which kicks off fishing in general.  This might be my husbands favorite holiday; the first day of trout.  And yes, it is a holiday at least in this house based on the amount of prep time that goes into the first day and the excitement that occurs the night before.  Its like Christmas to my fisherman.  But winter, the cold crappy days of winter wear on my husband.  After the holidays, my husband settles down into a long winter of dread.  I have come to figure out that this "dread" has phases that build onto each other until finally we reach a climax and then thank gosh, spring arrives.  These phases I am pretty sure are unique to my husband and must be described in detail.

Phase 1 - TV Watching
Phase 1 begins when my husband watches every possible show he can on the History Channel, History International, Discovery and National Geographic.  This is not like his normal watch a show here and there.  Oh no, its obsessive.  Its a non-stop TV watching, his butt cannot leave "his" recliner and dare not talk to him while he is watching obsession.  Its almost like he forgot what TV was and how much he liked it for the last three seasons and now re found it.  It's crazy.  He doesn't sleep, so he can stay up, watch TV, and have his alone time with his chair, as he puts it.  But then, the inevitable happens.  There is nothing new on.  After a few days of bitching, and extreme anger towards house plants he moves into phase 2.  (I'm not joking about the house plants.  I swear he gets mad at anything green during this phase.  I had two beautiful hibiscus trees inside for the winter that kept "attacking" him when he went outside and one morning I heard the distinct thud of planters hitting the porch and rolling.  I came downstairs to missing hibiscus trees and I looked at him with that, "What the hell just happened" look.  He looked at me and said, "What, those trees don't live here anymore."  I had already realized that stage 1 was nearly over and bit my tongue.) 

Phase 2 - B rated Horror Movie
That's right, you read it right.  He watches horrible horror movies.  He loves them.  And I'm not talking I Know What You Did Last Summer, I'm talking The Turkey Came Alive and is Killing People kind of horror movies.  He hunts them down on Amazon or Netflix and watches them laughing and ranting on how unrealistic and unbelievably stupid of a plot.  I think he might also time how long it takes for the first boob shot to appear, but I'm not sure on that one.  This phase lasts awhile because believe it or not, there are many bad horror films out there!  And he is very unbias as to all horror creatures, so he watches vampires, zombies, murdering turkeys, all the same.  Therefore, there are tons.  Eventually, though this also comes to an end and we enter into phase 3. 

Phase 3 - Youtube Videos
This is the worst for me.  This is because my husband and I are very close.  Yes, we have had very hard times, but who doesn't.  But when things are normal, we are close.  So this means that everything he sees/watches/reads he explains/describes/shows me.  So, if he watches some crazy Youtube video, so do I.  Why is this so bad?  Because one of his favorite things to watch on Youtube are of cyst busting and oozing.  Oh my gosh, I can't tell you how many times I almost threw up watching these disgusting things!!! But he laughs so hard and loves it!   It has to be a boy thing, because some of his friends love it too and I just don't get it.  Nor do I want too.  But he watches other Youtube stuff too, which can lead us directly into our last and final stage:  phase 4.

 Phase 4 - The wanting of something entirely to expensive to purchase!
Spring is nearly here by this phase but this one is almost like a self-punishing phase that nearly destroys him!  During phase 3, he comes across some video of something that he falls in love with, but of course it is very expensive and nearly unobtainable for us to purchase.  It can vary from a gun, to a motorcycle, to a hunting adventure in another country, a vacation, a learning course of something, etc.  Sky's the limit really.  But when he finds it and it peaks his interest, he obsessively researches it.  He will know everything about it, know all the options, the history of it, and so on and so on.  It takes up his every thought!  He falls asleep thinking about it and wakes up with it being the first thing on his mind.  We talk about it all the time, and just when he is going to bust because he knows deep down inside that we can't afford it but he wants it so bad......April comes.  And April means trout season.  It means being outside.  It means the sun will shine, things will turn green and he will not have to be cooped up inside all the time!   It means, that although he will always still want what he has been thinking about, it now at least can be put on the back burner and discussed at a later date.  It's no longer an obsession.

I know everyone goes through the winter blues.  I know I do at least, and the boys get crazy too, but my poor husband gets it the worse.  I have heard people with bipolar do suffer greatly in the winter time and witnessing my husbands habits makes me believe it to be true.  But since I know the phases, and know that when Spring comes out will emerge my happy go lucky husband.  So I grin and bare it and hide all the house plants until it gets here. 

Do you know the purple panda?

Given that tonight is Oscar night, I thought that I would share my little man's most famous motion picture with you...The Purple Panda movie.  Have you seen it?  You might have, it was a video illegally shot at the daycare he use to attend that went viral in less than 24 hours.  It is hilarious and I nearly peed my pants when I first saw it. 

Let me explain a little more about the situation.  My son, who never really talked about his friends all of a sudden kept talking about this one girl who he said was his girlfriend.  He would look in the mirror each morning and make sure he liked the shirt he was wearing that day.  I couldn't understand his sudden interest in fashion but then one day when I took him to school this little girl ran up to him and said, "I like your shirt" took his hand and walked away.  Big deal because again my son is not a big people person.  (His lack of liking people has gotten much worse as he has gotten older.  We are not sure why, but he is much worse now than when this video was shot. :(  )  So, this girl and my son I guess hung out a lot, since they were "dating."  To set up the video, Mr. McFeely was visiting the local university and stopped by my son's daycare to visit the kids.  At first the kids were excited and then.....All hell broke loose. 

You can see the back of my son's head when the video first starts.  What's funny to us when we first saw was our son's response and what he does to his "girlfriend".  If you can, notice that my son pushes his girlfriend out of the way as he goes running.  Yeah, not a white knight by any means, but it made us laugh so so much. 

My aspie loves this video.  He wants to watch it all the time!  He started watching it the day I saw it, and when we heard it had made it to shows like Ellen, Tosh.O, ABC nightly news, Jimmy Kimmel Live, etc, people kept recording it and sending it to us to watch.  Every time he got more and more excited and wanted to see it more and more until finally we decided not to show him anymore so his head could fit through the doorway.  He thought it was cool he was on tv shows.  My husband, being my husband said, "Wow, I hope he didn't peak already with his fifteen minutes of fame!"  Great, honey, Great. 

So here it is, my son's famous flick..."The Purple Panda Video."  He could win an Oscar, right?!?

Heros Take Action!

 The other day, my son and I had an unplanned adventure.  We were on our way to his therapy like every other Monday evening, but this evening we had company going for a ride with us, and some errands to run after his session.  I normally do not have a list of things to do after his therapy because many times, this is an overload for him and he usually has a meltdown, but the things we needed were neccessities and I was feeling pretty positive that we were going to have a great night!

 

...And we did, well sort of.  The evening started out great.  My son fell asleep in the car before I picked up my friend and her son.  I was a little worried about them riding in the car with us, since this would be a change and her son would be riding in the "baby's" carseat.  I knew with him being asleep and just waking up to it would be much better.  For him, if he wakes up to something new, its better.  If it happens in front of him, or he witnesses the change, all bets are off.  So, obstacle one, new people in car...done!  Next was his therapy. 

 

He cried!  I mean balled when we went into therapy.  It was a new group therapy session so new faces to see, new people to meet, new voices, and everything else that goes with the change.  He clung to me as he was going into the session room screaming and crying "Mommie don't make me go!"  "Mommie, please don't leave me!"  "Mommie, Mommie, NO!!"  Can you say, break your heart?!?  Because it broke mine.  I looked at the therapist, who gave me the aproving nod, and I bolted out of the room, hearing him crying in the background.  I could hear him crying as I left the building to tell my friend to run to the first store without me that I was going to wait there because my aspie wasn't doing so well.  I could still hear him crying for me when I got back into the waiting room and for the next half hour I sat there waiting.  (It was an hour session, by the way.)  The only way I didn't run into the room and grab him was through texting my husband and him saying to me that this is for his own good, we have to do this, blah, blah blah, blah blah.  And yes, he was right.  But at that moment, I kept thinking to myself.  So what if we never leave the house with him.  Who cares if he lives with us for the rest of his life because he doesn't like other people.  He will be happy, right?  But that was my mommy heart trying to make my brain run in and rescue him, when I know therapy is the best for him and its better he learns social skills now, than at 20, 30, or 40.  I felt better when I couldn't hear him crying after about 35 minutes, and when the hour was finally over, he was the first to bolt out the door looking for me!  And there he was, with a huge smile on his face saying, "Mommie, I did all my work!"  "All right baby!"  I said and got a fast report from his therapist because my son was dragging me out the door. 

 

I didn't have a chance to tell him that his friend was in the car because he was dragging me to the car to quickly and I was trying to slow him down.  So when I opened the door, he was pleasantly surprised to see my friend's son.  I loaded him into his seat, when her son said, "We have lolipops!"  And that was it my son was sold.  Bring on the lolipops and bring on the adventure!

 

We drove to the next store with two toddlers in silence busily eating.  When we go to the store, I have to admit I was a little scared given our past history with new places, but out of the car my aspie went and into the store like he does it everyday.  He got into the cart and was yelling out things he saw with excitment!  What in the world, I thought with delight.  What happened to my son who hides in strange places?  I was not complaining, but just in disbelief.  I looked at my friend who smiled with the look of, don't question it just go with it.  So we shopped around, got the kids some treats and headed back to the car, with one proud mommie and one happy toddler. 

 

As we drove to drop off our guests, my friend and I were chatting about how great my aspie did.  We both wondered if it was the lack of people in the store.  There were only two to three other people in a very small and quaint store and the store was very quiet.  Maybe that was what did it, who knows, but he did an excellent job, which I continuously told him the whole ride home! 

 

After dropping them off with happy goodbyes, I had one more stop to make...of course, Walmart.  We needed some can not live without items, like toilet paper, almond milk and cuties so into the store we went. As soon as we went in, I knew from the moment we went inside my son was scared.  He held his head down, was squeezing my hand, and bumping into me a lot.  Oh crap, I pushed him to far I thought, but we were already in the store and so I pushed on.  We headed back to the trains since I promised him one earlier, unfortunately, there were many employees around re-stocking the shelves, which made my little man extra nervous.  He couldn't concentrate on the trains.  He couldn't stand still long enough to look, and kept running up the isle which is something he never does while looking for a train.  We walked away for a little while and stumbled upon these Avenger Superhero masks.  I put the blue Captain America one on and looked at my son, who thought it was so funny.  He asked for the Hulk mask and I helped him put it on.  He decided that he could scare people and went walking off.  As I started to grab for him, he stopped and said, "Wait, its not Halloween, we can't wear these!"  I then had to explain to my smart little man that we can play dress up anytime, just like when we wear our Jake and the Neverland Pirates costume at home, or the Buzz Lightyear costuem.  Masks are the same thing.  It must of worked because he put his mask back on.  He walked by two employees no problem thinking he was scaring them as he walked.  When we got by, he took his mask down and said, "I really scared them mommie!"  "Yes, you did buddy that was fun!"  And then an idea flew into my funnel.  (That's for all you parents out there who have watched as much of Thomas the Tank Engine shows as I have!)  I told my son that it would be fun to wear the masks the whole time we were in the store to scare everyone.  Since scaring meant wearing the mask and walking by the person, I figured no harm could be done.  My son was so excited he couldn't wait.  He put on his mask and off we went.  He went back to the trains, grabbed the one he wanted and we continued to shop, masks and all.  Apparantly, he felt safe in the mask, because noone was looking at him.  They were looking at the scary mask.  And to him, finally, he was not as scared as they were of him.  Little did he know that we probably got more stares from wearing the masks, but what he doesn't know will not hurt him. 

 

And so mommie and the Hulk finished shopping, checked out, and yes, even the clerk, thank god played along scanned the mask while my son was still wearing it and out the store we went.  On the way home, my son was laughing at how we were going to scare daddy with our newly acquire masks, and I drove home happily, still in my Captain America mask, thinking to myself that there was nothing I wouldn't do for my little man, which includes shopping in a mask everytime if it makes my son happy!

 

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Sleeves

My husband used to work for a geologic consulting firm where he monitored streams for damage created by coal mining.  This type of job caused him to be out in the field 5-6 hours a day, which of course meant that he was not around to many public restrooms when nature called.  There were many times when he would come home without any sleeves on his shirt, which of course caused me to pause for a second and wonder what exactly happened to these said sleeves.  Finally, after at least five shirts fell victim by the loss of their sleeves did I break down and ask my husband why he was sleeveless.  He said that when times where tough and he had to "go"  he used his sleeves as toilet paper.  You have got to be kidding me, I said in shock the first time I heard it.  You wipe your @#$ with your sleeves?  He replied with the standard teenager response as if I was his mother, "Everybody does it."  As time went on, I sort of found it funny every time he came home with a newly designed sleeveless shirt and knew he must have had a rough day. 

It was then no surprise really that my oldest resorted to the same use of his shirt during a time he felt like he was in a pinch.  Problem was:  A.  There were witnesses (people we just met really)   B.  He really wasn't in a pinch.

I know that most people have their kids potty trained before they are four, yada yada yada, but my aspie really just got potty trained about 1 1/2 months ago, in other words well into four.  (I have found that those stupid parent books really know nothing and if you will take any advice from me you will throw yours out the door because you will drive yourself nuts if your child does not fit the mold.  And if you have a child with special needs, you might as well drop kick the book or set it on fire because they are no where close in helping you in your situation! I digress.)  One of the ways we were bribing our son to learn to pee on the potty was teaching him how to pee outside.  It was summer, what the heck we thought, whatever would work.  So, with some success he was peeing outside off the patio and we were really excited. 

One really nice evening we all were outside playing.  Myself, the boys, and all the dogs.   Our next door neighbor walked down to meet our new puppy, Charlie, and wanted to say hi to the boys.  Of course, our aspie went hiding in a flower bed that we had planted in the yard.  This bed had really large perennials so he can hide pretty well in there.  I really didn't think much of my oldest being that I was talking with our neighbor and we were all making over the puppy.  After a few minutes, my neighbor says the worse thing ever:  "Do you smell something?"  I'm not sure, I don't think so, I said.  And then it hit me.  The undeniable smell of poop.  Not dog poop, which is distinct, but more of a kid poop.  (Yes, its sad I know the difference, but tell me you don't too if you own both species!)  I follow the stench to the flower bed that my aspie was in.  Before I got to the bed, out pops my son...shirtless.  "Honey, where's your shirt?"  "I pooped" he said.  That is all, no other explanation needed, just "I pooped."  As in, use your imagination as to what you think I did with my shirt after I pooped mommy.  I was shocked and forgot for a moment that my neighbor was still standing there and heard everything that just happened.  I looked at her sort of waiting for a response and all she could muster was a "Well, I'm gonna get home now."  Well okay I say over my shoulder as I go inspect the situation a little more closely.  And there it was...the poop and make shift toilet paper laying there in a perfect pile. 

After I got us all inside I found my hubbie to tell him what just happened.  Of course he laughed because it was funny, but then he asked our son, "Buddy why did you poop outside?"  "The dogs go potty outside too.  I was just being a doggy."  "Why did you use your shirt bud?"  "It's all I had."  And there you have it, the reasoning of the incident.  I guess the using of the shirt was just his genetic make-up kicking in.  As we were putting him to bed that night, my husband was a little prouder and I am not sure if it was a coincidence but happened to be wearing a sleeveless shirt that day as well!

Thanks Dad for reminding me of this story!

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The bestest Valentine's Day EVER!

I have never been one for Valentine's Day.  Honestly, it seemed sort of stupid to me.  Maybe it was because of the heart shaped meatloaf that my mom always made my dad, but it always seemed so predictable and lame to me.  Flowers, chocolates, I love you, the end.  Now I know I seem like a jaded valentine, but honestly, I have gotten my fair share of valentines' gifts.  The extra large over stuffed bear from a boy when I was in middle school (the boy might be in jail now I'm not sure), the perfume and flowers from a boy in high school, chocolate and jewelery from a boy in college, and this year from my husband I got a twin size bed for the baby's room so we could get our bed back and have grown up time.  All great gifts, but still I am just not that into it.  So, when it was time to sit down and write my oldest son's valentine's cards last night I was not so thrilled to do it.  I figured I would be doing it by myself since my son's ability to sit still for more than five minutes is slim to none, and he hates to write.  Being that both these things were required, I didn't expect much.  I could not be more wrong.

As I gathered up the supplies, I yelled to my aspie, time for valentine cards. "NOOOO!  I am done with this!"  Okay, so far as I expected, no surprises.  So, I sat down at the dining room table and started.  In the corner of my eye I spotted a curious little man peering at me.  I pretended like I didn't see him, and kept working but made sure I had a smile on my face.  I noticed that he kept inching forward and eventually ended up on my lap watching me write.  "Who's that for, me?"  No buddy, they are for your friends at school, just like the one Charlie Brown took to his friends at school.  And that was it.  Deal sealed.  He was into his valentine's cards and trying to hurry up my process.  "So I give them to all my friends?"  Yes.  "But where do I put them?  Charlie Brown had a briefcase to keep his in."  "Well, I bought you a mailbox for yours."  "Where is it, where is it?"  And so I had to go and get it so he could put his valentine's cards in.  He put them in and took them out counting them so many times that a few opened up in the process.  "OH NO!"  he exclaimed, "they broke".  So after fixing the envelopes with some stickers, we were good to go again, and it was decided that he would leave them in the mailbox.  All night, he carried the mailbox around and couldn't fall asleep due to his excitement. 

This morning, when I went to wake him up, I was expecting the usual crying, kicking, hitting, I swear I should be losing weight because this has to count as a workout, ordeal that occurs all other mornings I have to get him ready to go to school.  It started out as normal, "Honey, time to get up and get dressed."  "Where are we going?"  "School, but today is your valentine's party."  "OH, that's right."  And that was all.  No crying.  No hitting.  Instead, he let me get him dressed.  While dressing him, he asked, "Does the baby get to go to his baby school and give valentine's to his baby friends?" (Confession:  I had told a little white lie to my aspie that the baby went to baby school so that he wouldn't be upset to know that the baby and I stayed home while he was in school.  I thought that he forgot that, but of course he did not.)  Yes, honey...the baby will give baby treats to his friends, as the white lie grew.  After he was done getting dressed he went downstairs, grabbed his mailbox, and as he started towards the door he said "I have to give all my friends their valentines so that they are not sad like Charlie Brown."  My father-in-law looked at me, smiled, and went running to catch up with him to take my toddler to school, treats in hand.  I could not believe it.  My son was excited to go to school.  Best day ever! 

The morning could not go fast enough for me to find out how his day went.  When he walked in the door with my father-in-law this afternoon with a large paper bag full of valentines and a smile that was just as big, I knew he had a wonderful day.  "My friends like me!"  He said with excitement as my father-in-law kissed his head and I was giving him a hug.  Yes, they do buddy, everyone likes you. 

  This was a big deal for us because our son never seemed to care about other kids until very recently.  It might be the therapy he is in, him getting older, or a combination of both, but other kids never peaked his interest until now.  We now know that it is not that he doesn't care, but its that he has a hard time expressing his feelings and communicating with others.  He can't seem to figure out what to say so instead says nothing at all.  It is nothing for adults or kids to ask my son a question and for him to sit there silently and not answer.  Ask any of the grandparents and they will tell you.  So for my son, to go to a social place, like school, and to be excited to interact with others was a HUGE deal!  And to mention his friends and just in general using the term "friends"  was also a HUGE deal to his father and I. 

Can I take responsibility for this matter.  No, all credit must go to where it is due....Charlie Brown.  We have been watching the two Valentine's Day specials everyday for the past week.  My aspie has recited the specials non-stop during times when it is not on.  And although I was not excited for valentine's day, Charlie Brown made my son excited and allowed him to interact with his friends!  So thank you Charlie Brown for never getting a valentine.  Your suffering made our Valentine's Day the best one yet!

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One crappy morning

Yesterday morning, I woke up before the baby did, which never happens since the first tweet of a bird outside snaps his eyes awake and he's ready for the day.  But yesterday was different.  Since I was up and had the house to myself, I decided to indulge in a long, steamy hot shower.  I mean, I took one of those showers that is almost to hot to bear but the heat feels so good, kind of showers.  I was ecstatic!  I was alone in the bathroom:  no husband talking, no baby being needy, no aspie reciting the latest version of Charlie Brown's Valentine's Special.  It was perfect.  I finished up, draining the hot water tank and headed downstairs to make my morning cup of coffee. Things were quiet so I assumed the kids were still asleep. 

Before I got my first sip of coffee down, I heard the pitter-patter of little feet and the mumble of mommie that I love so much.  Still being in my joyful mood from my awesome alone time, I swing around about to sing my good morning song, when I smelt and saw it.  There was poop on my baby's foot, leg, hands and face.  He was showing me with a, hey do something about this face.  What in the world I'm thinking.  He still has his PJ's on, how did he get all this poop on him.

I was just about to pick him up with my 4 year old came into the kitchen as well.  Mom, I pooped and the baby walked in it.  Well, at least that mystery is solved.  As I look at my oldest, he too had poop down his legs and on his ankles.  What happened, Buddy?  I pooped my pants and took them off in the bedroom and then Charlie grabbed them and then the baby walked in it.  Great, as I imagine the poop scene that's waiting for me upstairs to clean up.  I picked up the baby, and started towards the tub with the kids.  But on the way, I started to see the true depth of the poop crime scene.  There were poop foot prints from every step the baby took on his way down to get me.  Apparently, the ordeal was not to much of an emergency, however, since he stopped to play with his Thomas train, which was evident from the poop prints on the train.  As I headed upstairs, I went to grab the banister and wince to the smooshy feeling on my fingers.  Yup, poop.  My little one holds the banister every time he comes down the stairs and therefore, there was poop smeared the whole way down it as well.  Okay, I will just breathe and clean.  No problem I think to myself. 

When I got upstairs, there was Charlie looking oh so cute, which meant that he had done something bad.  I put the baby and his big brother in the tub, started the water, then went to see what Charlie had done.  I had just walked into my oldest bedroom, when the kids started to scream.  What in the world, I just walked out for two seconds, what could be the problem.  I went running back in to them shivering and saying, "it's cold, it's cold."  Oh crap!  I drained the hot water tank!  We have no hot water!  You have got to be kidding me!  So, I hurried up drained the water, and sat there stumped.  What in the hell am I going to do?  The kids are shivering, there is no hot water, and there is poop covering 80% of my house.  Should, I grab the kids, leave and set the house on fire?  That was quite a realistic possibility at one point of time in my mind yesterday, but as I calmed down, I decided upon something else.  Wet wipes.  I started cleaning the poor babies up with wet wipes.  A container later, they were passable to get to a point to play in the bathroom and not get poop everywhere while we wait for hot water. 

I escaped from the bathroom after the last wet wiped was used, to see what it truly looked like in my son's room.  There was a torn up diaper on the floor, with a million little poop covered pellets that are inside the diaper scattered everywhere.  There was a major poop trail near the diaper.  I started looking at them a little closer and noticed it was not just toddler tracks I was looking at.  Nope, there were dog tracks in it too.  You have got to be kidding.  Charlie!  I scream, and I went looking for him.  Sure enough, like a well train detective I followed tracks to under our bed to find a brown and black little butt sticking out.  As I drug him out, I could smell the poop and knew that he would be getting a tubby too.  So, into the bathroom he went. 

Half hour later, we finally had hot water and so I could produce two clean kids and a clean puppy.  Next step, to start on the house.  I set up a movie to play to entertain the kids, and gave my carpet cleaner a workout that I think it never had before.  I honestly don't know how long it took me to clean it up, but it was a while.  The whole time I kept thinking to myself, how could one kid produce this much poop.  Does this kind of thing happen to other people?  It can't.  This is insane. Are you kidding me with this poop!  And on and on. 

Once the place was decontaminated, I had showered yet again, I went downstairs again to finally drink my now cold coffee.  Just then, my husband calls and says, what are you doing today honey?  Eating bon-bons and watching tv with your cushy stay at home job. He says jokingly.  He is lucky he works far enough away, because at that moment if he were closer I would have driven there ripped his head off and jumped up and down on it.  Instead, I just laugh and say, oh just the usual honey.  We are just having our usual morning.  I couldn't relive the poopy horror I just lived through and thought to myself, he'll read it in my next blog.  Tonight, I desire a good margarita! 

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Sweets N' Sticks

Pretty soon BAM! (Bipolar, Asperger's and Margaritas!) is branching out and starting a little business adventure.  This week Sweets n' Sticks will be launched that will be an online blog/made-to-order website that will feature both easy to follow recipes for sweets that will be both delicious and  actually good for you as well! 

With my son's recent diagnosis with Asperger's I have been watching his gluten and dairy intake, which many families of autism loved ones do.  Unfortunately, most of the sweet treats that he loves are made of wheat and dairy.  Upon my quest to find new recipes that are gluten and dairy free, I have come to find that there are not too many out there. So, I tapped the shoulder of one amazing baker, my friend Jenn, to help me figure out this gluten free treat world.  In doing so, not only did we find that we can make many of our kids favorite treats gluten free but we decided why not hide (oh I mean add) some vitamins and minerals into them also to boost our kids immunity, brain power, and keep them overall healthy tikes!  With a few trial and errors, and a lot of dirty dishes, we are ready to finally launch our idea to the world, or at least who ever will read and/or purchase them. 

The website will include a blog with new gluten free recipes that we have tried and tested and are kid approved.  Even if you are not following a gluten free diet, we will post the old recipe as well, with hopefully some new twists to make them a little more healthy.  All treats we blog about can be made at your home and we will include a link to amazon with our shopping list already added.  If you are not a baker and live in the Pittsburgh area, no problem; click purchase and place your order for us to make and deliver to you!  It's that simple. 

The first treat we will be starting with are our chocolate covered rice crispy treats, featured here on this post.  Rice crispy treats are a favorite of both of my sons, and most the kids I know.  With a few easy modifications, we made them gluten free, delicious, and ready for my son's Valentines Day Party.  We also are going to try the Sponge Bob version for a birthday party extravaganza for our boys. 

I will announce the site launch through this blog and of course have a link to it here as well.  PLEASE leave any comments you have for ideas, suggestions, or anything at all to let me know what you guys think out there.  I will be going back to my normal writing about my crazy family tomorrow evening!  I can't decide to relive today's crazy morning or my husband need to purchase large items in the spring time!   Decisions, Decisions.....

When Cake meets Fist

Like I have mentioned in other posts, it was only this December that we had the official diagnosis that my 4 year old has Asperger's Syndrome, but for a lot longer we knew there was something just a little "off" with our son.  If someone asked me to describe my boys, one of adjectives I would always use for my older son is complicated.  I know that this is not the most benevolent adjective I could use, but it was truthful.  My son was/is complicated.  There were so many things that have happened that would make my husband and I look at each other with a, why in the heck did that just happen, look in our eyes.  Therefore, getting this diagnosis was somewhat of a relief because at least now we know why some of these things happen.  When an incident first occurs it's usually overwhelming and shocking, but when time passes sometimes they can become even a little humorous. 

One of those times was last year after Thanksgiving diner.  Every year, my aunt and uncle stop over after we have eaten to visit and have some pie.  Now my aspie loves my uncle.  My uncle does this thing with him, asking how many belly buttons he has and tickles his stomach.  My son loves it because belly buttons just happens to be one of his favorite things thanks to a bed time book we read (The Belly Button Book by Sandra Boyton.)  So when he sees my uncle he always runs to him laughing and giggling and wanting him to do their thing.  We never really noticed that he never noticed my aunt, who happens to be the sweetest, kindest person in this whole entire world.  That Thanksgiving, my aunt and uncle were sitting on the couch next to each other, and given that we had a number of guests, my son had to make his way threw people to get to my uncle.  On the way, he had to pass my aunt.  As he passed her, he stopped, took a double take and said to my uncle, "Hey who's this lady?" Every one who heard him asked the question laughed, because honestly, we see them all the time. I, thinking he just had a brain fart said, honey, that's your Aunt so and so and you see her practically every other week at gram's house.  Nothing.  Nada.  Not even a glimpse of familiarity.  A complete stranger she was to him. My uncle not missing a beat said, "come here, did you say you have three belly buttons," and scooped him up and made him laugh all the same.  My aunt was laughing at the whole situation, but I still felt so bad for her and my son.  Later on that evening after everyone had left, my husband was sitting in his throne, the recliner, and had our son on his lap.  He just started laughing and said as I walked into the room, "Hey buddy, whose that chick?"  My aspie giggled and said, "mommy silly."  Good, my husband replied, I was just checking to see if that coconut stilled worked. 

We still laugh today about the "hey who's this" comment, but now understand that it is quite common for kids with aspergers to have a hard time connecting faces with names, or identifying people all together.  Since social situations are tough, and most of the time there are many people together when we see my aunt and uncle, he gets sort of tunnel vision and only focuses on the ones he favors. Since he tends to favor the men in our family, I guess us women are out in the cold as far as my son is concerned.  I guess that means the baby will be a lady's man.

But nothing compares to the cake incident.  Let me set the scene.  My son was turning 4.  We had a pirate theme party wear kids were wearing pirate hats, had plastic swords, and were running around outside on a half an acre playing pretending to be taking over pirate ship.  We had a bonfire, roasted hot dogs, and had perfect weather.  My 81 year old grandmother made a beautiful cake that had a water side, a boat, pirates, and of course sand with a treasure chest.  She must of spent hours on it.  "Amazing", people were saying about the cake.  Time had come to blow out the candles.  I'm excited, my hubbie's excited, lets get the birthday boy.  We start singing Happy Birthday as my husband picks up our son to bring him over to the cake.  Instead of the excited boy we were expecting, he was clinging onto my husband with his hands, legs and teeth.  Buddy, they are singing to you he says, blow out your candles.  NO he screams.  It's okay honey, I say it's your birthday.  NO, he screams. And then it happens.  Now, let me break this down for you as I saw it, play by play.  Please picture slow mo, time lapse imagery for this description.  First, husband puts son down.  Son raises hand in motion to punch cake.  My father starts reaching out towards son's fist.  I open mouth to start saying No.  Son begins to lower fist towards cake.  Hubs starts to reach for son.  I step on my long maxi dress and stumble.  My father redirects his grab for me to stop my fall.  Son is inches from cake.  Husband's face is crimson in color as he just missed the back of son's shirt.  Gasps go up from people all around us.  And then splat.  It was done.  His fist meets the cake right in the awesome treasure chest my gram had made.  When time finally came back to true speed, the next thing I heard was a friend of ours saying, "That's awesome!"  Leaving everyone to laugh.  Needless to say, I was mortified, my husband was livid and my son was still mad at the world.  My gram, having a wonderful sense of humor, stated, "Who cares, it tastes the same no matter what it looks like!"  And so we cut the cake and went on with the party until we could get our son alone to chat. 

Stupid is as stupid does they say, and at that time we were stupid as to how badly our son fears people looking at him and had really no clue as to how badly he hates loud noises.  So basically, a birthday party where people are singing loudly directly at him is basically the worst possible thing we could do to him.  He responded at that time with the only thing he knew how to do; smash the cake.  So now we know.  Now, we are not stupid.  And when we attend parties, we stay far away from the cake.  

The Four Legged Crazy

This summer I got the bright idea that we needed to add another four legged member to our family.  There were many reasons that I justified this addition, but mainly it was because I was scared.  Early that year, around Thanksgiving to be exact, was when we found out that our oldest girl Lola (our black lab) had cancer.

You see before the hubbie, before the kids; it was Lola and me.  We did everything and went everywhere together.  When I traveled for work, so did she. When I went to visit relatives, so did she.  She was my first baby.  She even slept on the left side of the bed with her head on the pillow so we could spoon (and still does, my husband can vouch.)  So to get the news that she had cancer was downright devastating.  It was the first time I had thought about a time without her.  I honestly never thought I would have to face it.  It was just that she has been my rock for the last 9 years, and has been with me through so many milestones that I forgot that she wasn't immortal.  She was there when my mom died, she picked my husband (literally she threw herself into his lap when she would walk away from every other loser I brought around), she was there when the babies came home, and she was there when we brought home Penny our boxer and the new crazy. The thought that she wouldn't be there for other milestones threw me into a downwards spiral.  So in my crazy moment of thinking, I decided that we needed another puppy.

To justify this decision I decided that it was for our boxer to attach to and for the kids to get use to before Lola left us.  My husband and I were really worried about our boxer, because she is completely attached to Lola.  If Lola is missing for more than five minutes Penny finds her.  So, I was able to sell my husband on the idea of number 3 based on that theory.  It's for Penny. 

So, enters Charlie Love.  (Upper left hand pic.)  Charlie is a rescue dog from the Ohio Amish mafia.  I'm not kidding.  If you seen the show Amish Mafia, there is a character Merlin who runs the Ohio Amish and is the kingpin.  Charlie was rescued from his farm.  He is a boxer/English bulldog mix and was going to be put down because he only had one testicle that dropped which deemed him unfit to breed or sell.  A young Amish girl, who had a soft spot for puppies, had an arrangement with a local lady to leave puppies to be euthanized in a box along the road every so many days.  Charlie was one of those puppies.  We saw his picture from the boxer rescue league we donate to and knew he was our guy.  The day we went to look at him, we knew that if he was good with the kids we would be taking him home.  I learned a while ago that you don't go to look at a puppy.  You go to get a puppy because there is no way of saying no once you get there.  Well, to say the least we were suckers!

When we saw Charlie, he was as adorable as his pictures.  He laid in the corner, very timid and scared.  My aspie was also very timid but very set on giving Charlie a toy he found at Walmart that morning.  He started across the living room with the toy, tripped, fell and landed right on Charlie.  Charlie laid there, didn't make a peep or move a muscle and just kissed my aspie.  That was it.  He was ours.  We picked him up, put his collar on him and away we went.  The whole way home he sat on my husbands lap where he snuggled and kissed him.  We talked about how calm he was and how cute he was.  We were excited to have a relaxed puppy and how this is so going to be the perfect addition to our home.  Oh how lucky were we to find this calm and relaxed puppy.  I bet he is going to be easy to train, I said.  That night he slept perfectly in my son's room and the next day, same calm puppy.  And then......

The crazy kicked in.  I'm not talking about the normal crazy puppy.  I'm talking the holy cow, I'm adopted by a crazy family so let the crazy out crazy.  He started pooping, peeing, chewing, puking, chasing, biting (puppy bites), boxing, pooping, running, snorting, peeing, pooping, eating everything, pooping crazy.  It was/is insane.  Now imagine this with a unstable bipolar, yeah not good.  But he did bond instantly with Penny and Lola both, but was put in his place by both when he tried to nurse them.  They loved him right away as well and Lola made it known that she was alpha and not to mess with her territory; the couch. 

On his first visit to the vet's, who just happens to be like a second dad to me, he informed us that Charlie second testicle would drop it would just take some time.  I started laughing.  Yep, the little tricky devil does fit in our family.  He stowed away the one to get out of that place.  Crazy and smart like us all!  So with a few pinches and the introduction to the thermometer, our Charlie Love was given a clean bill of health.

I introduce Charlie tonight because he has been a handful to add, but he is a reminder that change is normal and will happen whether we want it to or not.  I don't want Lola to leave me, I don't want my husband to have bipolar, and I don't want my son to be autistic and struggle in the world.  But its all reality.  And with change comes a lot of work, but a ton a great times too.  My husband and I often  get stuck on the bad stuff and get bogged down, but then we watch our three four legged kids playing, with the boys laughing at them and remember stay in the now and focus on the good.  Charlie is 8 months now and my aspie calls him "his puppy."  He was there when my husband had moments, he was there when my son was diagnosed with asperger's and he will be there when Lola will not. 


***And by the way, Lola is doing great.  Charlie Love has spunked up her play and she still reminds us when its time to eat.  She is not in pain and shows no signs slowing down!  Don't forget to like me on Facebook and/or Twitter and/or Pinterest!******

Lil' Diddie

If you are a parent, grandparent, or work with children you are all to familiar with the tale of 5 Lil' Monkeys Jumping on the Bed.  If you do not know it, please click the link below.  Here's a warning, first off, this song immediately gets into your head and you will be singing it for days.  Secondly, the man singing them is great, in that creepy sort of way.  You will thank me after you watch it.  5 Little Monkeys Song 

I bring this up tonight, because I was just laying down with my baby when this lil' diddie popped into my head. Again, I needed something fun to think about after a tough day and I thought I would share!

1 margaritas down and dead, mama sits down and grabs her head,

hubbie calls the doctor and the doctor says, No more margaritas for your friend.

Soooooo,

2 margaritas down and dead, mama reaches for the counter but falls instead,

hubbie calls the doctor and the doctor says, no more margaritas please listen young friend.

Soooooo,

3 margaritas down the dead, mama stumbles over and laughs while holding a lagerhead,

hubbie calls the doctor and the doctor says, no more margaritas take them my friend.

Soooooo,

4 margaritas down and dead, mama grabs her stomach and is sick with dread,

hubbie calls the doctor and the doctor says, no more margaritas take tums and put her in bed,

Soooo,

5 margaritas down and dead, mama falls on the floor and bumps her head,

hubbie calls the doctor and the doctor says, take her pulse and make sure she's not dead.

Sooooo,

Hubbie carries mama to bed, good nite love, that's one hell of a lump on your head!

 

 

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Attachment Parenting

I have been a stay at home mom now for about six weeks.  In that time my baby (who is going to be two soon, so I should probably stop calling him that) has become extremely attached to me.  We do EVERYTHING together. I can no longer be more than 3 feet away from him or he cries and scoots closer to me.  In the beginning it was cute. Actually, I loved it. Oh, it's okay if he is sitting on my lap while I go to the bathroom, he just likes mommy being home.  No honey, I can hold him while I am shopping, he just wants me today.  It's okay you don't need to take him, he is going to hold my hand while I shower. Yes, I will admit it, the situation has gotten bad, maybe a tad pathetic, and yes I was a sucker for my kid's face,  but now six weeks in, I cannot do anything by myself without having a three foot mobile hemorrhoid behind me or attached to me.  If I walk and stop to fast, my baby runs into my butt.  (He does this to my father-in-law as well, which is his mommy substitute.)  If I wake up during the night, he is right there staring in my face.  While washing dishes he hangs onto my leg, and if my husband tries to sit next to me on the couch he will sit in between us.  Am I complaining, sort of.  I love it, most of the time.  But there are days, like today, that I just want to have some space.  I just want to hide in a closet to be by myself for just a few minutes or maybe longer.  Does that make me a bad mom?  I doubt it, and if it does no one tell me, I don't want to know.  But I can't help to feel like my baby has decided that we are going to do attachment parenting without any say so from me.  It's final.

Prime Example: I just snuck away to write this post. My husband just stuck his head in to tell me our 4 year old is eating! He said he is eating like an animal and we both were shocked and excited. As we were talking I could here little stomps of feet coming up the steps and the recognizable, "Hey, I am not with mommy" whine that comes when he is searching for me. My husband, thinking its hilarious because its not him says, "It's coming. It's coming for you" in his best Halloween movie voice he could produce. My husband shuts the door and my baby started crying realizing that I was inside. With a promise of a Cutie (clementines) and some Sprout TV, he took the little one downstairs with only a slight fight being had. Ah yeah, I'm screwed.

I will say though, being this close to him during his six weeks of baby boot camp, I have noticed his reactions to my aspie and my hubbie.  Often times, prior to these last six weeks, I have felt so guilty that the baby was not getting a lot of attention.  My aspie and my husband often times demand my attention for obvious reasons with managing their conditions.  The baby is truly happy go lucky, and as the cliche says, the squeeky wheel gets the grease.  But now being home with him, and with his you are not going anywhere without me demands, I have watched him intently.  I have watched how he interacts with his brother, with his daddy, and by himself.  Watching him makes me realize so many things.

First off, children do not see labels, disabilities or syndromes.  They just see their loved ones.  My baby allows for my aspie to have his meltdown, have his moment to reconnect with us, and then back to playing they go like nothing happened.  No empathy, no judgements, no feeling sorry, just whenever you are done we can go back to play.  And to be quite truthful, my baby idolizes his older brother.  He hugs him, even when my aspie doesn't hug back.  He kisses him, even when my aspie doesn't kiss back.  And he holds his hand, even when my aspie doesn't hold back.  And in doing so, my aspie knows that his younger brother loves him and he tells us it all the time.  "The baby loves me" he says.  He also knows it's unconditional.  He doesn't say it, but you can see it whenever they look at each other.  They are brothers, no other labels.

It's the same for my husband.  No judgements, just love. 

Now I know he is too young to understand the harder side of life.  To him, it's meals, naps, and play, but on the flip side of this children are so aware of everything!  I know he knows Ross has moments.  I know he knows my husband has even bigger moments, and yet he waits till its all blown over and carries on with his day.

I have also realized that if you love and like yourself, life's great.  The baby has no judgement on himself.  He just is.  Having no worries and judgements on yourself makes you free to do the playing, loving, laughing that little ones can do.  He's not worried about his weight, his hair color, lack of hair, or hair in weird places, his acne, pants size, or wearing a bathing suit in the upcoming season like the rest of us do.  He just is the way he is because he hasn't got a chance to learn that from society yet. 

Now, I know this would be impossible to do as an adult.  Some judgement is good to keep up healthy and "normal".  However, the obsessing that goes with it can be a problem for us adults, right?  The lack of worries is impossible, the lack of judgement is impossible, and the going through life oblivious of our responsibilities is impossible as well for most of us.  However, since my baby decided on this attachment parenting thing, I might as well try to take some pointers from him.  I think I will obsess less on the "wrongs" of me.  I will try hard not to place judgement on others or their labels.  And I will try to do more play, meals and naps/sleep. And I will stop worrying so much as to whether I am doing everything right.  I will not worry if I am doing this stay at home mom thing correctly.  I will not worry if my kids are the only kids in the world who do not bath every night.  I will not worry if my kids are not doing enough craft activities like all those moms do on pinterest.  I just will be my baby and my aspie's mom and my husband's sexy old-lady.

So, what should you learn from this post.  Have fun, stop worrying, and if your baby wants be with you every second of everyday, so what.  He's about to be 18 in a blink of an eye, move out, only call once a month, and marry some horrible woman who will take over his life.  As I see it, I am just banking time in advance.  But I'm not worrying or anything!

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Here's Your Card

I don't know if you are familiar with the comedian Bill Engvall from the Redneck Comedy Tour, but he does a skit that I think of often when I am out with my family.  Mr. Engvall talks about people who do stupid stuff or who ask stupid questions and instead of responding to them, he just wants to hand them a "stupid" sign while saying, "Here's your sign."  (If you haven't seen it or its just been awhile I attached a clip of his tour for you to watch.)  There are many, many times when we are out that I want to use this strategy, but in my own way.  I want to say "here's your card" when my son is doing something that a "normal" child would not do in public.  This is because it is always at those times, when my son is not having his best moment, that people stare and give looks that makes the whole situation that much worse.  It's not that I am embarrassed by my son, its that I want them to stop looking because that is what he is so afraid of and usually causing the actions in the first place.  Autism is the invisible syndrome.  My aspie looks like the adorable 4 year old that he is, and shows no signs of anything being "wrong."  Therefore, if he is having a meltdown people think he is just being a spoiled brat; not understanding that he has autism and social situations are horrible for him. The card would not be mean, but informative, something like this card.  Something simple, to the point to say, yup this is what autism looks like.

The first time I thought of the card was when my father and step mom took myself and the boys out to eat.  We usually only go to one local restaurant because eating out really makes my aspie nervous.  We can go to this one restaurant because they give the kids cookies at the end of the meal that my son loves.  On that particular day though, the restaurant was extremely busy.  Therefore, I was very nervous for my aspie and for my family who had never witnessed my aspie out in public before.  Well, things didn't go so well to say the least.  First off, my aspie was wearing his bath robe because it looks like the robe the boy from the Polar Express wears, a Super man t-shirt and his fireman galoshes, which is an usual outfit to say the least.  Therefore, people were looking at him as soon as we walked in.  OH NO, I start to think, but smile lovingly at him and the people.  Then the nice hostess sat us down in literally the middle of the restaurant next to the buffet.  Not good.  This means that no matter what direction my son looked, there were people.  People coming, people going.  People.  He couldn't escape them.  So he did they only thing he could think of; he grabbed his brother's bottle and hid under the table with his head buried in my leg nursing the bottle. I felt so bad for my son.  I wanted to grab him and leave, but I couldn't.  I knew I had to show him that its okay.  We can do this.  So instead, we stayed, ordered and ate.  When his food came I set it on the seat of the bench so he could pick at it if he felt like it.  The whole time people looked; some looked sympathetically, some quizzically, some meanly.  If I had cards, I would have been throwing them out like ninja stars.  A card for you, a card for you and your clan, and a card for you.  There you go.  When we were leaving, with his cookie in his hand, he said "Mommie, my skin hurts."  At that time I didn't know what it meant, but as I have come to learn more about this syndrome, I have learned that many kids with asperger's feel things differently.  A sort of sensory overload that makes them feel senses unlike us "norms," and therefore, his skin probably did hurt.

After the restaurant incident, the idea of the card became sort of fun for me to think of when something went down.  Of course, these occurrences often times occurs at Walmart, our favorite store (see post below.) 

One given Friday evening, my aspie and me were having a mommie and me night out.  I needed a laptop charger because my aspie had taken mine apart and the puppy Charlie got a hold of it and chewed it up.  I warned my aspie that I was going to ask for help and that a worker was going to come over.  He decided to hide on the lowest shelf right next to me, where the computer printers were stored.  For extra security he put a printer box in front of him.  I called over a worker who came to assist me.  After I figured out my purchase she explained that I needed to check it out in the electronics department.  I said, oh okay, well I will meet you at the register, my son is very shy and is hiding.  Oh, she says.  Where is your son?  I point to his hiding spot where his shoe is sticking out.  Oh, well I'm great with kids, she says.  Oh yes I am sure, I say, but he is really scared and will come out when you leave.  Well, that's just ridiculous, she says as she was moving the printer box in front of my son.  Before, I could say anything else, my son screams, "I don't like you and don't touch the box!"  Here's your card. 

Another night, again at Walmart, I was looking for water filters going up and down the isles and my aspie was walking next to me.  There were some teenagers who were playing a little game of hide 'n seek in the store being a bit rowdy.  As I was walking down an isle I herd some boxes fall and looked back to see what had happened.  Apparently, my son got frightened at the yelling from the teenagers and took cover on one of the lower shelves again.  This time, he was paralyzed with fear.  It's okay, I said, Mommie will sit next to you on the floor until you are ready to come out.  And so I sat.  As I was sitting there, a store employee noticed as he walked by.  A few minutes later he walked by again.  And again.  Then he walked by with another employee.  Each time I sat there smiling at them like nothing was wrong.  They were looking at me as if I just thought it was a good spot to sit down and people watch.  And finally, after one more pass, he and the fellow employee stopped over to see if they could help me with something.  No, I am just waiting for my son.  He is scared and I am waiting for him to emerge.  What is he afraid of?  Those boys, as I explain the story.  Oh, but they are just stupid teenagers, they say, in my son's direction.  Why don't you come out of their like a good boy?  Wow, I didn't think of asking him that, I think.  Well, sir, I say, I would just like for him to have a few more moments, I know he will come out.  Well, do you want us to help you get him out?  No, I said, he will just get more upset, he is okay.  Well, I will just move these boxes so he can get out easier, one of them states.  Oh, no that is not necessary, I started to say when all hell broke loose.  Boxes started flying and legs were flailing and words were being said.  I reached in grabbed my son, and rocked him until he calmed down.  I then picked him up, put him in the cart, and helped the men clean up.  The men looked at me, at this point, looking more scared then my son when they saw his true fear, and all I could think about was:  Here's your card. 

There are many other times where a card would have come in handy.  The time he threw a container of cheese curls and they went everywhere.  The time he screamed, "I don't like you" at an older man who was trying to get my son to tell him his name, and the time that he gave a woman the evil stare because she asked him what was the name of the train he was holding.  Yes, there are many.  Of course my husband has another way of dealing with this.  When these things happen and people give my son a what's wrong with you look, he says"You got something on you mind there Chief?"  It makes the point too.  Here's your card. 






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Nerd Alert!

This is an interesting article about the possibility of chemicals leading to autism.  Things that make you go Hmmmmm.....

Top ten toxic chemicals suspected to cause autism and learning disabilities

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