Tiramisu, OCD, Pennies & Pasadena

Sweets for me and my sweets

There’s tiramisu in the fridge again.  (Insert contented happy dance here.)

It’s such a mess to make, but so worth the effort and the cocoa dusted counter tops.

Have I mentioned lately how much I hate grout?

It’s everywhere in my home and nowhere in my dreams.

And this evening, my grout is cocoa powder brown.  😐

But like I said, there’s tiramisu in the fridge again.

And it’s the good kind.

The almond kind.  

It’s not the rum kind.

It’s this kind.  🙂

OCD and then some

The little boy is going through an increased phase of obsessive compulsive behaviors again.

He has some of these behaviors all the time, but every month or so they intensify for a while.

It makes us tired.  And frustrated.  And teary.  And sometimes really, really mad.

He will insist we do things for him that we haven’t done since he was a baby, or ever.

Tonight, for instance, he called me to come into the bathroom as he was finishing his shower.

“Mama, pull the plug?”

I’ve really never pulled the plug for him after his bath time, but suddenly, he is desperate for me to do it.

When I refuse and explain that it’s his responsibility to pull the plug, he starts a tantrum.

I leave the room.  😐

He has also started asking us to push him or carry him everywhere again.

THAT makes me lose my mind.

I sit at the dining table with my cereal and he wants me up so that I can carry him three feet, from the kitchen to the couch.

I ask if his legs are broken.

Sometimes, he gets the point.

Sometimes, not so much.

And just now, he was standing in the kitchen with me.

He was waving a cloth napkin in his hand.

“Mama put the napkin down?”

He wanted me to take it from him so that I could put it on the counter.



You get the picture.

Exhausting.  Exhausted.

Penny for your thoughts.  And your patience, please.

Before we weened ourselves away from the little boy’s private psychologist, we got one last piece of great advice.

She suggested we offer him a penny every time he waits patiently at a red light.

Until we started doing that, he would absolutely freak out in the car.

He doesn’t like to wait.

He doesn’t like things he can’t control.

Traffic + his being in the backseat with a limited view = intersection of all anxiety, mine and his.

I’ve written before about being pelted in the head with McDonald’s toys, having my seat kicked, having my ear drums pained by sudden blood-curdling screams, and having papers and magazines torn to pieces.

All because of red lights.  Or pedestrians.  Or bicycles.  Or buses.

Being in the car pretty much sends my kid into the deepest recesses of his autism.

Or at least it did, until we started the pennies.

Now, things are usually okay.

And this week we took the pennies to Vons and threw them into a CoinMaster machine.



He bought another nightlight.  😀

Pasadena Partners

In the wake of some marital strife – no, you don’t get details – I have concluded that the husband needs a fabulous weekend like I had in Pasadena.

I suggested it today and though we do have a lot on the calendar in the next several weeks, I think it will work with some creative planning.

So, husband, start thinking about all the guy stuff you wanna do.

I will help with reservations.  🙂

And that’s all she wrote.

Happy Thursday.


Out My Pores

I feel a little overwhelmed this week.

Last night, husband and I had a misunderstanding/episode of marital strife/short period of silent resentment/argument/tiff/goofy weird miscommunication.  We have since resolved it, seen a decent (albeit slow-moving) film, had lunch out, and visited See’s Candies together, but I’m exhausted anyway.  And my eyes are red.  Husband is, in fact, napping as I write this.  Tall husband.  Short couch.  Guess he’s tired too.

Child has been a bit defiant in the past few weeks and now routinely runs from me in public.  Nice.  And he’s a little gassy today.  Sorry Sarah, I know you don’t like this topic, but I’m trying to be honest here.  Think old broccoli.

My mom is in pain and can’t seem to get any real answers from her doctors.  We know it’s not life threatening, but it seems to be enjoyment-of-life threatening.  She is kind of sad about it and so am I.  There isn’t anything I can really do.

My house is at the scary end of the chaos meter.  Neither husband nor I seem capable of throwing out anything or donating anything or storing anything or putting anything where it’s supposed to go.  On the plus side, I was motivated to scrub down the two front doors a few days ago.  Now that they’re clean, I don’t actually have to repaint them like I thought.  Huh.

We need a newer, bigger couch.  (See comment above about tall napping husband.)  Unfortunately, our options are limited because we don’t have enough budget, space, cooperative children, short family members, or clawless cats.  I mentioned all that to a guy at one of the big furniture stores over the weekend and he promptly lost interest in me.  Was it something I said?  Why yes, yes it was.

And food, damn it, food.  I want something spectacular every time I eat, but that just isn’t possible given the aforementioned lack of budget, cooperative children, etc.  Oh, and I don’t cook very well.  That’s part of it too.  Okay, maybe that’s most of it.  Well, that, and the fact that I don’t eat animals and am trying  to limit my intake of animal products too.  And I’m not that fond of soy.  😐

And you know what really stresses me out?  Last night’s blurb on the news about women and what stresses them out, that’s what!  Stay home moms weren’t even part of the study.  Obviously, only working women have stress in their lives, right?  How could I be so dumb annoyed?

Last night, I accidentally conked myself in the forehead with the phone. I can feel the knot there now.  Tomorrow there will probably be a bruise.  How could I be so dumb annoyed clumsy?  The bruise will look great with my peeling nose.  The weather has ruined my skin.

Two days ago, I finally rearranged all the photos and reduced the number of frames on the wall next to our front door.  This is something that has been bugging me for over a year.  Good for me, right?  Wrong.

I edited down the frames based on size, shape, and color instead of contents, so now I’ve got a solid wall of mostly my son and no one else.  I love him, but I don’t need twenty pictures of just him up there, you know?  It will probably be another year before I take all of the frames back down, open them up, and swap the pictures.  I feel defeated by this project, but I am a bit amused that the final (and totally unplanned) frame arrangement sort of resembles a Christmas tree.  See:

I wish that top frame were a darker color.  Oh well.  Maybe I’ll paint it.

Okay, enough whine.

Happy Monday Evening!

P.S.  Oh, and another thing, you all need to get past your distaste for my rotting pumpkins.  I’ll be posting pix of them everyday right through the end of November.  Just another few weeks, people.  Deal.

P.P.S.  This is what we got at See’s.  When husband was little, he got them from his grandmother.  We’ve decided to carry on the tradition.  😀

P.P.P.S.  Jen, how the heck did you make those potatoes?  Mine were a tad disappointing.  😥  We soooo ate them anyway.  :mrgreen: