Madness and an Easter Video

I am mad at the world today.  I just left my little boy at school.  He doesn’t want to be there and I don’t blame him.  There is no art.  There is no music.  There is no one who can understand him.  There is no one he can understand.

Today was the first morning he was actually crying wet tears as I walked away.  Wet tears.  He hates school.  That is generally apparent, but TODAY?  Today with the actual wet tears?  Crap.

I didn’t even make it to the car before I started sobbing.  Usually I get off campus before I lose it, but not today.  Nope.  Tons of other parents and a couple of staff members saw me this time.  Great.

And it’s raining and I don’t have a good jacket anymore.  My favorite has a busted zipper and a small tear on the inside pocket.  It’s still hanging in my closet because I can’t part with it. I have four other jackets and they all suck.

It’s San Diego, you know?  Even when it’s pouring rain, you don’t need a very heavy jacket and I just can’t find a good lightweight number that fits me and doesn’t look like I borrowed it from my super tall brother.  Once you hit plus sizes, the world thinks you don’t mind looking like a man.  That makes me mad too.

I’m also mad at the developer of our neighborhood. The freaking houses are too close together and this morning I had nowhere to go outside and lose my mind like I wanted to.  When you have a few acres you can do that.  Lose your mind.  Outside.  Because no one will hear you.  You can take one of your cheap plates out of the cupboard and go smash it and no one will do anything.  Can’t do that here.  Nope.  Neighbors right on top of you.  No plate smashing.  You have to leave the plate in the garage when you realize you’re out of luck with that.

I’m mad at mean people and people who don’t get it too.  Autism is hard.  For me.  For my husband.  For our families.  For our son.  Our poor son.  If you knew how often he is paralyzed, just standing in our house looking at us because we don’t understand each other…well, you would cry.  Probably a lot.  But you won’t see that, because we can’t let you come over.  The house is a wreck.  All the time.

I’m mad today.  And sad. And weepy.  My kid is in jeopardy.  (Which I learned to spell by saying “Jay-Oh-Par-Dee!”)

The teacher is on board with the dilemma.  She is a good teacher, committed to finding a solution.  But still, whatever she comes up with, it won’t be music or art.  It won’t be anything that compels my kid to love school always and forever.  Will it?

I’m mad at peanut allergies too.  Not because anyone in our family has them, but because our school is a peanut free zone.  I get it.  Kids could die if they come in contact with peanuts.  I don’t want to be responsible for making somebody die, but I want to send my kid to school with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and I can’t.  So I’m mad.  That’s one of the four or five foods he eats, you know?

I’m mad at Filippi’s Pizza too because it’s really good and I’ve been craving it for months, but it’s too far away and too complicated for me to get there.  And they don’t serve anything my kid will eat (except croutons and ranch dressing), so it’s not someplace we ever get to go.  I hate you, Filippi’s.

And speaking of going places with my kid.  I love him, but I sure would love a break with my husband now and then.  Why doesn’t it ever work out?  When my mom has time, we always have a conflict and we have no other babysitters.  It sucks.  We qualify for respite care, but seriously, there is no way I would ever leave my wet tears son with someone I don’t know extremely well.  Other moms in my shoes feel the same way.  The problem is, everyone we know has their own giant schedule from hell.  No time for other people’s kids, let alone a child who doesn’t communicate well and will probably miss the toilet when he pees.  We’re screwed.  No respite.

I’m mad at the DMV too.  My license is up for renewal this year.  Thank goodness.  Really.  My current picture is tired, surprised, resigned, fat and hideous.  Ask me next time I see you.  I won’t let you see it.  I’m mad at the DMV because I know that getting a good picture requires a fight.  They’re not too keen on snapping seconds, but there is no way I’m going through another four or five years with a horrible picture again.  Won’t do it.  So I’m stressed out about the confrontation.  And it’s weeks away.

I’m mad at myself today too.  Really mad.  Mad for crying.  Mad for raising my voice.  Mad for wanting to break a plate.  Mad for buying sample paint a week ago and still not getting it up on the wall in our bedroom.  Mad for having tons of ideas and not finding the time or motivation to implement them.  Just mad.  And sad.


I miss my kid.  😐

Click here for the cuteness that is.


Morning Tantrum

My son had a huge tantrum this morning.


I don’t have it in me to describe the details.

I’m exhausted, my stomach is tied in stress knots and my eyes are red from sobbing.

Same crap, different day.

I let my husband take my morning to sleep in because I was wide awake at 5:15 a.m.

And a tantrum is what I got for that.

Oh joy.

Here are the very bad drawings I scribbled out to illustrate two house rules that were broken today:

And here is the reward chart of the hour (also desperate and poorly done, but what can I say?  Drawing isn’t my thing.):

We skipped to step two so that the little boy could get some grub in the tum before needing the calm for steps one, three, four and five.

For step one, it helped for me to tell him which colors to pick up first, second, etc.  He was paralyzed by the task until I did that.

He eventually finished everything and even gave me a hug at the end.

He made all the check marks and drew the ovals on the computer monitor to represent the river rock background image on his screen.

Now he’s playing some ridiculous game from Miniclip, a site I absolutely hate and try my best to censor.

I absolutely will not let him play any games with images of real people in them – particularly U.S Presidents – Republicans, Democrats, whatever.

Those games just bother me – especially the one that shows Obama with a machine gun shooting up aliens.  So disrespectful.  Grrrrr!

I don’t have it together enough to write a really great post today, so this will have to do.

Gotta go trade my jammies for some clothes and run to Home Depot this morning.

Our microwave blew up this week and we’re a bunch of big babies without it.  😦

See you tomorrow?

Happy Saturday.  🙂


Late Night Three Pointer

little boy + miniature basketball + lamp =

(and toxic, cough inducing stink!)

The stench was bad, but the worst part was the little boy’s reaction to the sight of the melted ball.

It kind of scared him.  😦
He ran out of the room and down the stairs.

He knew we were upset and that he had done something wrong, but I think the total destruction of the ball by a force he didn’t quite understand was overwhelming to him.

It didn’t help that my discovery of the ball happened in the midst of his totally unrelated tantrum.

He was shaking and a little freaked out when we found him in the kitchen.

We told him it was okay and that we weren’t mad.  That seemed to calm him down a bit.

He wouldn’t come near the ball or the lamp and light bulb, but he was interested in looking at them from across the room.

He latched onto the words “hot” and “melted” as husband and I explained what happened.

This morning I held up the ball and light bulb again and asked him to repeat the sequence of events.

I put the basketball on top of the lamp.
The light bulb was very hot.
The basketball melted.
The melted basketball was very stinky.
The stinky smell can make me feel sick.

He repeated all of the words very purposefully and even got ahead of me when I added:

No more toys on the light bulb.

Best lesson all week.

This was a close second:



There are chickens in the china…

and bunnies in between…

a World Market cloth chicken chime on the back of the door…

and a second one tumbled to pieces in a bowl with some of my
wooden Pysanka eggs

which you can see more clearly on a neutral background…

On the upstairs landing, there is a chicken family made by cartbeforethehorse.

They’re sorta Eastery, right?

This last one happened when I wasn’t looking…

but it’s the cutest bunny of all. 🙂

Now go post a comment with a link to your pictures!

Happy Hare!

P.S.  In case you thought I tidied up to accommodate these little bits of Easter cheer, I assure you, I didn’t.  The house is still a piggy mess, but now we have chickens.  😀


Get a move on…

My husband and I stayed up talking until 3:00 this morning.

He was out with friends until after midnight and I wasn’t even a little bit sleepy, so I waited up.

I even made brownies and fresh whipped cream around 12:30 a.m.

Today, I feel like a zombie.  You know, a brownie-stuffed, glassy-eyed, slow-moving member of the undead.

It’s after 6:00 p.m. now and I’m still in my pajamas.

Husband just went outside to mow the lawn, but he’s still in his jammies too, sort of.

The little boy is wearing the same t-shirt he put on for school yesterday.

We are not fit for public consumption.

Tomorrow we will make a better effort.

I realized this morning that I have reached the end of my rope with our house.

My child has no designated space to keep his toys, so he has them everywhere.  Everywhere.

It seems I am constantly losing the battle over when and how to put the toys away.

I can’t take it anymore.  I hate the mess.  I hate the clutter.

I am oppressed by it.

My husband sometimes gets to witness my despair.  Sometimes just the aftermath.

Today I cried a lot before I pummeled him with my distaste for our current level of piggery.

He feels it too.  He’s out there mowing.

The little boy has two weeks off from school.

I dread the loss of personal downtime, but I do look forward to a more relaxed schedule.

The stress of making lunches, finishing homework and getting out the door is gone for fourteen days.

Hello Zoo, Pump-It-Up and Tidelands Park.  Maybe even Legoland or the Wild Animal Park.

And definitely some spring cleaning.

It’s time to overhaul this life and this writing.

Gotta find a productive rhythm again.

Soooo ready for that.

Bet you are too.


P.S.  Here is a link to a food blog I have been reading lately.  While his post this week includes a recipe as usual, it’s about a little bit more than a vegetable.  Hope you appreciate it as much as I did.


My kid was in the dining room:

and at the computer:

and in the bathroom:

from which he emerged wearing only socks.

He was also in the kitchen:

and in my bedroom:

and in my closet:

and back in the dining room:

and in the upstairs hallway:

and he added to the decor on top of our front entry coat closet:

What a busy boy.  🙂

What a dirty house.  😐

This is why I never invite you over.  😦




One of the cats barfed in the kitchen while I was gone this morning.

I didn’t notice it until I was sitting down with my lunch.

I slammed my eyes shut for a moment.

Couldn’t face a puddle of vomit before I had a snack.  Still can’t.

It’s sitting over there kinda by the window and I know I need to clean it up, but I just don’t want to.  You know?

It will take ten paper towels and a lot of cuss words to get it all.

Kitty indiscretions…ocean whitefish and tuna.  Great.  Can’t wait.

I don’t get why this issue never comes up for my friends who have cats.

Are mine the only ones who do this?  Can’t be.

And yet, my friends’ houses seem consistently vomit free.

Why, oh why, do I think you have any interest in this topic?

Well, I guess I don’t really think you do, but it’s the only topic I’ve got today.

Sorry.  😦