Thursday, February 28, 2013

The Supervisor (w/the worst Pay Ever!)

In this life of mine, I have to take comfort in the small things.  There are so many big things that seem so overwhelming and I can really get bogged down by the enormity of it all.  There are so many mountains to climb, so many lives to supervise and take care of.  The "To Do" list is unending ...always adding more before I complete what's already on the list.  Its enough to make you not want to get out of bed in the morning.  Especially, when the first thing I have to do in the morning is wake up grumpy teenagers and rush them out the door.

Last night's prayer was simple...

Dear God,

Thank you for my bed and the fact that I don't have to share it tonight.  Thank you for the chill in the air that makes my comforter necessary.  I love the way it feels laying heavily cocooning me in like a caterpillar.  There is no one to nudge to stop snoring or turnover tonight.  No one to feed accept my children.  I'm thankful that my husband is safe on the other side of the country, working to bring home the bacon.  I am thankful for my phone and text messaging, because sometimes it's better not to actually talk to him when I'm in this mood.  What's meant to be a quick check-in can end up being a series of misunderstood statements which lead to an argument.  

I am thankful that there were no meltdowns today, because last nights meltdown was a real doozy.  I'm still reeling from it.  I'm still upset with my mom for getting in it, and making it worse.  It's funny how I can so quickly forgive the kids for their mistakes, but I hold the adults who don't have a disability to a much higher standard.  Help me work on forgiveness Lord. 

I am thankful that I didn't have to talk very much today to anyone, including my husband because I am grumpy. 

Amen

The other night I was so pissed at my mom for agitating Blue even more during a meltdown.  After 3 years of living here...she still doesn't get it.  I know we all can not handle this meltdowns perfectly, by staying calm and not making matters worse 100% of the time.  However, I feel like I just don't need any one or anything else making my job harder --saying or doing things to damage my children's self-esteem.  I'm not saying I'm perfect, but I can do enough damage all by myself.

Having my mother here and my husband for that matter, often makes my job harder.  Neither of them get it.  They want to win!  They want to prove that they are right and the kids are wrong, which may very well be true, but when a child with autism is in an agitated state, there is no winning or loosing.  There is no logic or reasoning.  It's like they've gone completely mad!  And the more you talk, yell, or try to make them feel bad, the worse the meltdown gets.  TEACHING MOMENTS DO NOT HAPPEN IN THE MIDDLE OF A MELTDOWN!  The lessons to be taught and learned happen later, when they are calm.

I am tired of supervising people.  I am tired of breaking up fights.  I am tired of trying to appease everyone.  I am the freaking beck and call girl around here ...at your service to fulfill your needs for food, drinks, and rides to here and there.  I am here to break up fights between the 4 other people who live in this house, including the adults.  I am the one. the referee who comes between every freaking argument ...trying to keep them from escalating to the maximum.  For teenagers, on the autism spectrum this is expected, but to have to do it for the adults too!  It's just a bit much.

So yesterday, I spent part of the day in bed, recuperating from the night before.  I said all of 3 words to my mother all day.  I refrained from calling my brother and telling him to send her a ticket for a month in California, even though I was really tempted.

And yes...I was glad that my husband was not here for me to do for and supervise. The only two people I took care of yesterday other than myself, were my children.  For that --yes...I am grateful.

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Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Life in a Box

I had a weekend of freedom and have spent the past two days paying for it.

Red participated in a retreat with his church.  He spent the nights in a host home with other high school boys.  They traveled to and from the church for worship and socialization and  then spent Saturday doing a service project.  They made lunches for the homeless and then went into downtown Austin to meet them and pass out lunches to them.

Tears filled my eyes on Saturday night when he called me to tell me about what he had done that day.  He was absolutely beaming about helping these people.  "I went up to this guy who was living under the freeway.  I shook his hand and asked him where he was from.  He was from Michigan.  Mom! It was so awesome to help these people!"  He felt really good and proud of himself.  I was so proud and happy for him.  I thought to myself, maybe this is his calling.  Maybe the way to fill up his emptiness is by serving others.  

For me, it was a weekend of peace.  There was no, 'Put the dog down! Stop fighting with your brother!  Enough with the singing already.'
There was no one knocking on my door early in the morning or late at night wanting to talk.
I thought about him often, wondering what he was doing at certain moments of the day.  Is he talking their heads off and driving everyone crazy?
I quickly dismissed the thought ...just so glad to have my own slice of quiet time. 

He spent most of Sunday afternoon when he got home sleeping.  I had to wake him up to eat dinner, worrying that he may not be able to get back to sleep for the night.  He does. He passes out without me having to ask him to go to bed.
Yay me!  More rest! Let's pain in the ass.
That is, until Monday morning when it is time for school.  

Of course, he does not want to get up.  He makes it to school however, shortly after arriving he got into a major argument with his special education teacher.  He did not want to follow directions.  

I end up picking him up from school early.  Mama bear instinct told me ...the day wasn't going to get any better.  I couldn't focus on anything anyway.  I kept wondering when the phone would ring.  What did he do now to dig himself in deeper.  He had run out of one of his medications (my fault I guess).  I figured that he was still really tired from the weekend. 

It turns out that he slept in a chair at his host's home because he thought it would be more comfortable than the floor.  Which means, he probably got little to no sound sleep for the 2 and a half days he was there. 

He came home after I picked him up and passed out, sleeping deeply from 11:30 until 2:30 p.m. I took him in to see his doctor.  After his appointment we got a bite to eat.  He came home and slept from 5:00 until 8:30 p.m. He then went back to bed by 11 p.m. He slept through his alarm at 7 a.m. refusing to  get up for school.  I didn't have the energy to fight him.  My new motto is this...

It's your life!  
If you want to live it in a box ...you don't have to do anything. 
People who live in a box don't have to go to school or to work.
They don't have any responsibilities.
They don't have to be on time for anything.
They don't have to try when things are hard.  
They don't have to deal with life and getting ahead.  
They can just live in the box.  

You don't have to worry about having the latest electronics. 
There's no HDTV,  computers or cell phones in a box.  
No worries about finding a girlfriend, unless she wants to live with you in the box.
You don't have to pay rent or a car note.  
You don't have to cook for yourself.  
You can depend on the kindness of strangers to come down to your box and hopefully, give you lunch. 
You know...just like you did for those nice homeless people this weekend in downtown Austin.

Tonight we have a PCP (Person Centered Planning) meeting scheduled, where all of his support system shows up here at our house to help him set goals and plans for his life.  All of these people show up on their own time, they are not getting paid.  His friend and ex Pastor comes. Last month his Video Tech mentor came.  This time three of his teachers are scheduled to come.  Also, the top Transition Coordinator for our school district is his Facilitator.  


He plans this meeting, sets the schedule and invites those that he wants to help him.  He really loves the attention that he gets during this process.  

This morning, he sits at the kitchen table complaining.  "I hate school!  If it weren't for you making me go...I wouldn't!"  

He is already an hour late.  I ask him, "So you don't want to go to school? Would you like me to cancel this evening's meeting?  People who live in a box don't need to set goals.  I can just call everyone and tell them life is too hard. You don't want to go to school. You've given up.  They don't need to waste their time coming over here tonight." 

He made it to school ...finally.  Once he was there, I received this text message ...

"I apologize for my behavior this morning.  I was really tired and cranky. :/ I may need to start taking 5 hour energy in the mornings." 

I missed Yoga today since I spent a good part of my morning getting him to school.  By the time I wrapped dropping him off and speaking with the school Psychologist (making plans for helping him get to school on time and make the right choices once he gets there for his 17 year-old self)...my free-time for the day is half-way over.  By free time, I mean the opportunity to exercise, write, grocery shop and get my gray hair dyed.  Yes...it's getting more gray by the minute.  Hmm...I wonder why? 

I will also preparing the house and snacks for his meeting this evening.  

It turns out he doesn't want to live his life in a box after all.  

Monday, February 18, 2013

Dear Worry...

Editorial Note: 

This was originally published in January of 2012. Since then I think my prayers may have been answered.  I may have had maybe 1 day off from worry.  
The other 364 days of the year, my mind still spins with these questions.  
Only each day, I probably add a new one.  
Sometimes just before I drift off to sleep panic completely takes over.
The weight of 'what ifs' becomes unbearably heavy. 
Their sadness...their worries...their lack of a worry free childhood is just too much. 
I have so much guilt...you would think that I am a Jewish mother. 
They say you can't have faith in God and still worry. 
Tell that to my brain that won't shut off.  

Dear Worry,
Please go away.
You're not welcome here.
I would like just one day without you.

Just one day...of not walking on egg shells
Worrying that I will set some one off and there will be a meltdown.
Just one day...with no phone calls or e-mails from school
Just one day...with no fires to put out
No fights to break up.
No screaming in this house.

Just one day...of not thinking about medication and how it's effecting my child
Is it making things better?
Is it making things worse?
Is it making him tired?
Is it causing him to gain weight?
Is it causing regression?

Just one day...not searching for answers.
I'm addicted to knowledge.
I want to know...to understand.
I want to make things better.

Just one day...of not wondering
Am I doing the right thing?
Am I making matters worse?
Am I doing too much?
Am I doing too little?
Am I spoiling him?
Of course I'm spoiling him.
I just want to ease his pain.

Just one day...of not feeling like my parenting is being judged by someone.
I know I shouldn't care.
I just wish the judgement , "I could do it better" and "All you have to do is..."did not exist.
They have no idea what it's really like to walk in my shoes.

Just one day...of not worrying about his anxiety.
Just one day...of not wondering
Will he ever live on his own?
Will he ever be happy?
Are we running out of time?
Will he ever find true love? True friends?
Will he treat his future wife the way she deserves to be treated?
Will I have grandchildren?

Just one day...of not wondering...
Will I ever find myself again?
Will my marriage survive this stress?
Will we ever be on the same page in what to do for these children?

Just one day...of not worrying that he will do something to get himself into trouble.
Will I ever get "that" phone call?
Will his anger get the best of him?
How real is his threat of self-harm?
You can never be too cautious when it comes to his life.

Just one day...of not trying to figure out
What can I do to make him happy today?
How can I make him smile?
All the while feeling deep inside...
nothing I do will elicit the kind of happiness I want for him.

Just one day...of not feeling the pain that he feels...the worry that he feels.
Where is my magic-pain-depression repellant cloak?
I need it today.

Worry, Worry Go away
Come again another day.

Today...I give my worries to a higher power
He's going to take the wheel
He's a much better driver than I
Where I search the map...
He already knows the route
He knows exactly where our journey ends
I have to try to remember when worry comes calling...
Refer him to my driver

Friday, February 15, 2013

Pretty Pictures

Facebook is a sham!  It's a sham that I love to participate in ...but a sham nonetheless. Your friends post all of these pretty pictures of their happy little lives, smiling with their pretty things in these beautiful places.  Ha ha ha! Fun fun fun! Yeah ...whatever!

You want to know how I know this?  It's from first hand experience, of course.  You see today ...I took some of those pretty pictures and couldn't wait to post them on Facebook.

It's Valentines Day.  The 14 year-olds (Blue and his buddies) were definitely dreading the day because although they have crushes, they have no goods!  No girlfriends ...no Valentines -no special attention.  It's a day that makes them feel more left out than usual.

So we --the moms of these boys go jump through hoops to make this a day about friendship, family and good times.  The twin's mom made them a special breakfast and sent them off like a cheerleader with pompoms and everything.  No literally...she had red, shiny, Valentines pompoms!

I run out to get flowers for my mom and for all of my men (Red, Blue and Dad).  Single red roses for the guys.  Yellow roses and lilies for my mom.  I pick up dinner early so it would be here when the boys get home from school.

I pick up the middle-schoolers and take them out for ice-cream.  We all know -ice cream makes everything better and melts all of your troubles away.  I want to put a smile on their faces and make them think about their friendship instead of some unreciprocated crush on a silly middle-school girl.  It works!  Here is the pretty picture to prove it...

Well before I could get the picture posted good this happens...

Hubby calls me while we are out having ice-cream...
"Um honey...I was wondering if you could meet me real-quick for dinner.  I'm starving.  I haven't eaten all day and I have to come back to the office to finish some quotes."

Really?  Sure Honey!  Let me just drop everything and run right out to meet you for dinner.  It's Valentines day.  Everything will be crowded as hell, so I'm sure there will be no waiting. Oh and these boys?  I guess I'll just leave them here with homework un-touched, because after all our evenings have been running so smoothly lately. They don't need any supervision.  No! I'm not worried at all that one or both of them may have a meltdown and say...try to kill each other while I'm off  having this quick, spontaneous, middle-of-the week dinner out with you! No need to plan ahead for dinner out on a major holiday!  Forget about the dinner I have already picked up so that you wouldn't have to.  Yes -it is waiting for us at home.  But hey, I understand it looks like you won't be home to eat it with us because you have to work late.  No! I'm not  upset!  Really.  This is just the best day ever!

Blue wants his friend to come over and do homework and hangout for dinner with us.  However, his friend's mom has other plans.  They are going out for.  Remember?  She is trying to make this day extra-speical for her boys too!

Well -Blue is disappointed.  As we pull away from their house he starts with negative comments about his plans being ruined to hang out with his friend.

But -we just hung out with your friend for over an hour having ice-cream.  Not.Good.Enough! 

Here we go off on the deep-end.  He is not thinking in the least about what we have just done.  He can only see what he did not get the chance to do.  One thing leads to another and by the time we pull into our driveway he's yelling at me.  Seriously?  This is not happening.  I do not respond favorably.  In fact, I basically kick him out of the house and tell him to go for a walk to cool off.  Where does he go? Right back to his friend's house.  Whatever!  I don't even care at this juncture. 

He has no idea that I have bought him his own single-red rose, dinner and was planning on making homemade Toll-House cookies.  I am hurt and angry at this point, but while he is cooling off -so am I.  I told my self a long time ago, when it comes to these children on the spectrum, give without thought of reciprocation or gratitude.  Do for them because it makes me happy, not because I'm looking for a specific response.  Otherwise, I will often find myself disappointed.

His perspective is different than mine.  He can't see past what he did not get to do in order to see what he did get to do.  It is my job to teach him that.  If he gets a wife someday, she will not take kindly to being brushed off when she has gone out of her way for him. However,  I can't teach him anything during a fit of anger or in the heat of the moment when both of our egos are in danger of being bruised.

So I say all of this to say, when you see those pretty pictures on Facebook, don't be fooled into believing that everyone has this perfectly wonderful little life.  Our teenagers as well as many adults do this for hours on end.  They look at pictures of their school-mates -I won't even call them friends.  They think ...Look at them all having so much fun!  They have it all!

What we are not seeing is the little ugly parts of their lives that are not so fun to look at.  No one wants you to see the family fights, meltdowns, arguments and tears.  They paint the pretty picture and we all buy it.

Well not me!  I am guilty of posting the pretty pictures, but I also write the truth -the good, the bad and the ugly both on Facebook and on this blog.  I may get a lot of flack from some of my family when I do so.  I don't really care.  I'm a writer.  This what I do.  I write about myself and my family and show you the truth -with all of our flaws.  I know it's hard to believe I'm not perfect.  I hope to make you laugh in the process, because my family is hilarious and my life is ludicrous!  What is life really, if you can't laugh at yourself?

I'll paint you a picture alright, but it will not be all pretty.  You see that's one of the wonderful things that I love about art.  In art and in love ...there is no such thing as perfection.

And by the way ...dear husband of mine.  For future reference -Please do not buy me cards with pictures of real people on them.  Who are these people?  I don't know them.  Is that supposed to be me?  I don't get it.  There is now a strange black woman sitting on my dresser. I don't want to look at this stranger.  It distracts from the message.  As a matter of fact ...maybe you should just write me a note. 

Love you madly!
Your Smart-ass Wife

The Single Rose for my love
The picture above I made for him another V-day

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

It Happened Like This...

It's simply amazing how quickly everything can turn to shit.

It's a beautiful day.  There were no phone calls from school.  Red comes in the door in a relatively good mood.  There is a girl ...he tells me.  "I have a crush on her.  She's really cute.  She always speaks to me and gives me a hug."

Great! I think to myself.  I never get excited about the girls because a little crush can quickly turn into a fixation that I will spend hour upon hours listening to conversation about.  Then I have to deal with the fall out when it all goes wrong.  I just let him talk, trying not to pass any negative judgement, out loud anyway.

He needs a haircut today.  I interrupt his ongoing one-way dialog to ask him to get ready to go, and while were at it --he should change so we can go to the gym.  He changes, but then pulls out my laptop to show day this video series called, "Six Pack Shortcuts" that he definitely needs to purchase.  He has the entire sales pitch memorized and we have had to listen to it over and over and over again on and off for the past 6 months.

We have had countless conversations telling him that he can save his own money to buy this video set.  We pay for a gym membership.  What's more ...he can go run around the neighborhood for free if he wants to loose weight.  Furthermore, he does not show any consistency to working out, so there is no reason for us to invest any further in this endeavor.  We have told him this hundreds of times.  He is still trying to sell us on it.

"But you guys don't understand!  This is the shortest way to get tight abs."  Any exercise at all is shorter than sitting in front of your computer waiting for it to happen, which is what he is the most consistent at doing.

Meanwhile, Blue is telling me that he wants to go with us to get said haircut, but what he really wants is to go somewhere to grab dinner and then do homework at Starbucks.  He's being quite insistent about going out and a bit on the rude side, I might add.  This leaves a bad taste in my mouth and really makes me feel like making a quick dinner and taking him to the library instead of someplace where I will have to spend money for unhealthy food.

Red is getting lost in his rant about "Six Pack Short Cuts." He can't stop until he gets himself all worked up.  When he comes downstairs, Blue gets into the mix of telling him basically to get over it.  He is regurgitating everything that his father just said and that I have said in the past.  He is the third parent after all. We really need his help, because his older, bigger brother will definitely listen to him and not his parents! ONLY NOT!  

This is when all hell breaks loose! Both boys are yelling, slamming hands on the table, getting in each other's faces.  I attempt to cut it all short by telling them both, we aren't going anywhere! Why would I take the two of them out of the house when they are behaving this way.

I can't tell you all how fun it is to have two testosterone-enriched, teenaged boys with Aspergers, both going off the deep end at the same time!  This is why I keep a vodka supply in the house! 

Blue is livid!  I send him out to the garage to sit in the big chair we have out there, where he can cool off.  The garage door is open and the sun is shining.  He loves to take sunbaths.  It usually relaxes him.  Not today! He tries to run away.  He always wants to leave and go to his friend's house.  Of course, he calls me on his cell phone to tell me what he's doing.  I cut it short.  Told him he could go for a walk to cool off, but not to his friend's house to go have fun after his behavior here.

Within the hour ...Blue is with me in my room, processing his feelings.  I am billing him $125.00 an hour for my therapy services.  The bottom line is he is tired...again.  We started this conversation at 6 p.m.  By 6:30 he is fast asleep ...for the night.

He left a ton of homework undone.  This was a part of his trigger.  At the end of a long day of focusing and skipping over landmines at school, some days he just doesn't have it in him to do another 2 hours worth of homework.  He wants modifications and then he doesn't.  I think his teachers are drilling him with, "They don't make modifications in college."  Which in fact, is dead wrong!  You can get modifications in college.  Not to mention how you can adjust your schedule in college so that you don't feel overwhelmed.

In middle-school they are packing these kids down with homework because they are under pressure to get so much taught before state testing.  Do I give a crap about state testing?  No I do not!  He will fly through the tests.  So personally, I don't see why he needs to be stressed out with all of this busy work when the main point is that he is learning and doing exceptionally well with his grades.

There is a fine line between his overprotective mother stepping in on his behalf and allowing this stress to go on and allowing him to advocate for himself.  The teachers don't see what I see at home.  Nor are they aware of what a stressful environment this house can be to work in at the end of a long day.  They don't live with his brother who comes home in the evening and can go off in a rant at a moments notice, which then sends Blue into the depths of hell.

I sent him to school this morning without a lick of homework done.  He does have extra-time in his I.E.P. (individual education plan).  He will have to deal with his teachers today ...advocating for himself.  He will have to let them know what happened last night and I hope that they will work with him.  He is always afraid to talk to them.  "What if they get mad at me?"

I always tell him the same thing.  "They will get over it."  
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Tuesday, February 12, 2013

No More Sleeping Beauty


There's nothing better than being awakened from a pleasant slumber by a full on meltdown at midnight.

Blue bursts through the door, "Mom! Can you please tell Red to stop singing?!"

Really? Is this really happening?

I am sleeping.  I beg him to please to talk to his father, who is awake!
A few minutes later, he's back, "Dad won't help." 
Really? Really?  I am pissed!  I have been awakened 3 times now in the past hour! 
When they first got home from the basketball game --the one that Red did not want to go to, by the way, he came into my room wanting to tell me all about the good time he had.  
Hello! I am sleeping!  Tell me tomorrow.
Does he leave? No! My television is still on which encourages him to sit down.
I turn it off and ask him  again to please leave my room  ...three times before it finally clicks.
  
A few minutes later Blue is in my room to say ...I don't know --hello or something.  I don't really know or care.  I am trying to sleep.  He gets the hint much quicker and leaves the room.  

Now this  --Can you tell Red to stop singing? 

I lost it! I get up I'm yelling at everyone.  I yell at Red to stop singing.  I yell at hubs because he didn't get his ass up off the couch to handle the situation. I yell at Blue to go to bed and get over it. I am cursing them all under my breath.  I go back to my room and slam my door!

Next thing I know Blue's door is back open...he's yelling, "There is a mosquito in my room!"
Jesus help me! 

Dad finally gets up off the couch to handle things ...which means yelling at Blue, "Get in the bed now!" Not listening to what he is trying to say about the mosquito. Before I know anything Blue is in full melt-down.  Yelling, screaming and yes...even cursing.

So much for going back to sleep.  I catapult back across the family room, passed dad damn near knocking him over --and he's a big guy. Thanks so much for handling it by making it worse.

Blue is trying to call the 911 to get him out of this house.  I grab him, hugging him, telling him to take some deep breaths and just calm down.  I don't allow any talking just breathing --cooling off.

When he is finally calm enough to get undressed, I hugged him and told him not to think, just breathe and try to get to sleep.  

Everyone goes back to their quarters...dad feeling crushed and defeated returns to the couch downstairs, Red to his room and me to mine.  The deep slumber is over.  I am wide awake.  Adrenaline is pumping through me.  I lay awake thinking about what just happened. 

In the heat of the moment ...I wasn't thinking about was the fact that Blue had been gone for more than 24 hours.  He spent the night with his friends.  Got up early, hung out with them and played all day.  Then Dad picked him and his friends up to go to this basketball game.

The initial trigger to this meltdown was his brother singing as he was trying to relax and get ready for bed.  The underlying trigger was pure exhaustion.  It you dig down underneath the exhaustion, there was also little bit of a let down coming back home after all of that fun.  It's like when he was younger and we went on vacation to spend time with family, coming back home to reality made him sad.  Heck ...it made me sad too.  In these adolescent years, sadness has turned into anger and rage.

At home there are the annoying parents always telling him what to do and what not to do.  There's the annoying brother who loves to sing and script dialog from movies and television shows.  Then there is this intense need to have complete control over his environment and the inflexibility to adjust in order to acclimate to an environment that is less than perfect.

I lost it and yelled at everyone.  I lay in bed feeling bad about that.  I had yelled at my husband in front of everyone and then he ended up taking the brunt of Blue's meltdown.  I know how sensitive he is.  He usually takes the things they say and do during meltdowns personally.  I know he is thinking, I just took these assholes to a basketball game and now they are at home fighting, and end up yelling, screaming and cursing.  They are so ungrateful!  He isn't thinking about Blue is just being overwhelmed and exhausted.

I've been told in the middle of a meltdown, "I HATE you!"  I know that they love me...they are just angry, seeing red and not thinking clearly.  The boys have never get physically aggressive with me during a meltdown.  Of course, I don't back them into a corner in the middle of it.  Sometimes I walk away.  Other times, I may just give them a hug or try talking to them gently.  Talking never works.   When they are getting to out of hand, and refuse to leave an area, their dad will come to my rescue, so to speak.  He doesn't like what he feels is disrespect coming from these boys towards me.  He is my knight. There is something about them all being these alpha males who can't back down when emotions are high that can make things get out of hand and get really ugly.

I spent hours awake feeling bad for the part I played in this episode.  I felt bad for all parties but was able to piece together where the breakdowns happened in hopes to avoid them all the next time. Hubby and I talked in the wee hours of the night when he finally came to bed about exactly what happened and what we can try to do the next time.  I try to reassure him that he is an awesome dad, and he has to know that a good part of what is going on is simply autism and adolescence.  It's not personal.

No wonder my beauty is fading.  I can't get enough sleep.
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Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Burn Rubber Baby!

Editorial Note: This little gem was originally published two years ago when Red was in 9th grade. He is now in 11th.  

My Facebook status tonight (personal page):

"Do you ever wish your life was a television movie and you could just turn the channel?"

My Twitter Status:

"Son in Social Skills Therapy...Mom in margarita therapy."
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It is a typical morning after a night from hell.  Red -slow poking out of bed, followed by a short nap on the kitchen table after breakfast. I resist the fight  -just too tired from the rant the night before. I go sit in my car and wait until he decides to join me.

We get to school and he pulls the same old okie-doke...I don't want to go in nonsense.  Just get out of the freakin' car for Gods sake!

Today I have the dog with me.   Harry is my six and a half pound all white maltese.  He has a 9 a.m. grooming appointment.  School starts at 8:45 a.m. It's now 9:05 a.m.

"I need to get Harry to the groomer. I've already missed my Zumba class. Can you please get out of the car?" I ask as nicely as I can muster.

He sits and sits...and I do not like it, not one little bit.  I get out of the car with the dog.  I do not want to be an audience for him.  I can not leave the dog in the car for Red to play with.  Harry and I walk through the school doors.  I say hello to the Receptionist.  Dogs are not allowed on campus.  She doesn't even bat an eye.  She is used to our morning circus act.

Red remains in the car watching me through the window.  I head toward the Assistant Principals office.  I stop short when I notice a little alcove where I can hide.  (Yes...I said hide).  I can peak out of another window from here.  I see that Red has exited the car.  I go back into my corner.  I watch as he marches right past me without turning to look back in my direction.  As he turns the corner, I walk quickly out the front door.  Before I get to my car...I notice that he is now walking behind me.  (No -he didn't just go on to class like a normal person.)  I hightail it to the car, lock the doors and burn rubber through the parking lot laughing madly, hysterically all the way like an evil character in a cartoon.

This absurdity is called my life.   I swear we should have our own reality show.  America would never believe it.

btw...I put his ass on the school bus this morning. Teeth not brushed but oh well! Game over!
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Note: Things have improved a great deal since I originally posted this.  Red now gets to school on time by riding the bus...most days.  I do however still have margarita therapy as often as I possibly can. 


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