Doppelganger.

I don't know what happened to my son, but the kid who took his place looks just like him, walks like him, talks like him, stims like him, has the same quirks...everything is the exact same, except for a few details.

Case in point:

My son, you remember, the one who doesn't eat? He approached me a couple of nights ago, inquiring if dinner was ready. A bit taken aback, I told him not yet, but almost. His reply to me was "Okay, I'll set the table."

Erp?

So I ditched the paper plates (it was pizza night again), and set out real plates, silverware, glasses- the whole shebang.

Jaysen's doppelganger set the table.
Two nights in a row.

That night, I was in the kitchen cleaning up, when this mysterious child approached me again. "Excuse me, Mommy, can I please have some apple juice?"

"Sure you can." Right after I get the thermometer, Motrin, and an ice pack for you.
(Jaysen has always had pretty good manners, but it's the "excuse me, Mommy," that was shocking)

Another was a night I was out with a friend. Usually Jaysen has a difficult time going to bed if I'm not home- I usually find him asleep on the living room chair, or the couch. Companion told me that at about 9:15, he asked if he could go to bed.

This kid washes himself head to toe in the bath. He drank a glass of water. He not only accepted, but liked my new haircut. He shared with Rylan.

I don't know who this imposter is...but I'm wondering if he could stay just a little while longer?

Potpourri.

ESY has been going great for Jaysen. He really seems to like it! When I say he likes it, I mean he goes outside at 7am to wait for the bus. The bus doesn't come until 8am. I'm so impressed. Cold, in the morning, but impressed.

I got my hair cut yesterday- actually, I got it chopped. I don't know what it was about this lady, but for some odd reason, I really trusted her. I haven't had a haircut in over a year (with all of the drama this year, who even thinks of a haircut?), so my hair was reaching down my back. I got over 7 inches cut off, and now my hair is just below my chin. It's strange to me, but it's a really cute cut.

While I was waiting for the stylist, a little girl walked up to me and said-
"Are you Jaysen's Mom?"
*looking around for minions* "Um...yes..."
"How's Jaysen's summer going?"
Who is this girl? "It's going really well. He's having a great time. How is your summer?"
"Good. I was in Jaysen's first grade class. And his Kindergarten class."
Aha! "Yes you were. Are you doing anything this summer? Jaysen went to camp and he really liked it."
"No. Okay...bye!"
"Bye!"

Hee hee. The Mom walked up and we chatted for a bit. She was one of the Moms who met me for that little meeting I had about the drama, so it was cool for us to chat under non-stressful conditions.

In other news, I received a letter from the Board of Ed, saying that I am totally in the wrong- Ms.GenEd has taught many special needs kids (Funny- because at the beginning of the year, she asked me what an IEP was), and they do not believe for a minute Ms.Principal acted the way I alleged (Really? Because I have documented proof that she did). So of course, there's the part of me that wants to bust it all open and respond to their letter, but the rational side is stopping me from doing so, for fear of starting next year off on bad terms. *Ugh* sometimes I hate being the bigger person.

That's my update for now- I have to get going to work. Whoot whoot- Happy Friday everyone!

ESY day one

I fought so hard for ESY services (Extended School Year, i.e. summer school), that I think I worked myself up into a tizzy once it was approved. My brain just stopped working.

Today was Jaysen's first day of ESY. I thought I would be excited, but I realized this morning, just how unprepared I was for this. I realized that there while we worked diligently for a transition plan into 2nd grade, we negated to set one up for ESY. Will there be an aide on the bus? Will there be someone to walk him in and show him which room to go to? How many kids are in his class? Does he even have a class? Why I didn't think of these things until the day of, I just don't know.

I had been trying to prepare Jaysen for the past few days- talking to him about the "summer learning" program (we're avoiding the word "school" to keep confusion and meltdowns to a minimum), what days he would be going, and for how long.

This morning, he told me, "I'M NOT GOING TO SUMMER LEARNING!"
Wonderful.
He carried on about how he was NOT going today, and I had visions of carrying him into the school kicking and screaming. And I mean me kicking and screaming.

The bus was over 30 minutes late. I debated if I should drive him.
Finally, the bus pulls up in front of our house.
"Jaysen! Bus! There's the bus!" (*grit teeth and lower center of gravity to steady kid-catching stance*)

To my surprise, Jaysen bolts out of the door, running toward the bus at top speed. He stops in the doorway and is announcing something to the driver. I don't know what it was because I'm leaping through the grass, in my high heels, with his backpack flailing, trying to catch up to him.

He whips the backpack on and (literally) jumps onto the bus. I enter the buss to give him a kiss goodbye, and tell him to have a great day.

"Okay! Bye Mom."

" ? "

I have no idea what flipped the script.

Companion said that Jaysen was in good spirits when he came home, so he either liked it, or he thinks that it was a one-time deal, and won't have to go back tomorrow. I'm in trouble if it's the latter.

My life...she is exploding.

My old house has been on the market for almost 2 years now. No bites, hardly any interest- which sucks because it's a really cute house! I would have loved to stay there, but I had to move for Jaysen's education (but that's a whole different story).

I'd been having a neighborhood kid cut the grass and keep the outside maintained, since I don't have the chance to get down there and do it myself. The kid isn't doing it anymore.

I did not know this.

So, imagine my surprise when I received a letter in the mail about a civil infraction mandating me to cut the grass and clean up the "debris" on the property, in 7 days.

I went to work trying to find someone who would cut the grass. I hired a company yesterday, and they were going to come out first thing this morning- but I had to leave them a check for $30 taped to the door. Fine.

I went to the house after work, and to my surprise again, the lawn was already cut! My neighbor told me that a crew came out the day before, cut the lawn, cut down branches and trees, and took a crapload of pictures.

Fuckity fuck fuck. The police contracted the city to do it.

This morning I called the police department to complain that I wasn't given my 7 days. They explained to me that it's 7 days from the notice, not 7 days from when I received the letter in the mail. Apparently, the mailing is just a courtesy. Well thank you for being so courteous. You'd think if that were the case, they could've written the notice date on the letter.

Since I was admitting that it is my responsibility to upkeep the property, I asked if they could tell me what the bill would be. Ready for this??? $380.00. Plus the cost of the ticket they're going to issue me. What the shit is that?!? You've got to be kidding me.

I do, however, have the option of either paying the bill and ticket in full, or paying the bill in full and fighting the ticket in court. Wow- I'm so glad I have options. Oh- I forgot to mention that they're also issuing a bench warrant for my arrest.

I'm such a lucky girl.

It's fun to stay at the YMCA...

Jaysen started summer camp this week. I have to admit, I was really nervous at first. And by nervous, I mean freaking out that my kid was going to attend a camp for 8 hours each day where there would be no supports or accommodations for him and ohmigod what if he gets poison ivy or eaten by a bear...

Okay, so there are no bears in the neighborhood, but still.

Today was his third day at camp. So far, he's had a great time. He's learned some camp songs, made me a beautiful necklace, and went rollerskating for the first time today. Rollerskating didn't score so well on the "awesome things to do at camp" list- he didn't like it because he kept falling. Whaddaya expect? ;) He even surprised me when he was in the bathtub- he said "lookit me", plugged his nose, and submerged his whole head under water. When he resurfaced, I was close to tears. We had been working with him on just putting his lips in the water and blowing bubbles for so long, and here he was holding his breath under water all by himself!

The camp director told my Dad that Jaysen is always polite, has great manners, and has been doing really well. Wow. He's made me so proud. I'm proud of him, but I'm also happy for him- that he's enjoying himself. With no supports! He's probably relieved that there's nobody following his every move and shoving him into an empty room, like at school- and he's probably relaxed enough that he can actually enjoy himself.

And I am thrilled.

Wedding bells (ding-dong!)

As parents, we often visualize what our children's futures will be like. We daydream about where they'll live, what they'll do for a living, will they be happy, will they get married...

Jaysen informed me of his master plan last night:

J: "On Monday is school, on Tuesday is swimming, on Wednesday is playday, on Thursday is ice cream, on Friday is cupcakes, on Saturday is Mario, on Sunday is Peepa day- then we go to Charleviox!"

Me: "Yes, we're going to Charlevoix this summer for vacation. In July."

J: "I'm going to get married when I'm in Charlevoix."

Me: "Um, you're going to get married in Charlevoix?"

J: "Yep. I go to Charlevoix and I get married."

Me: "Oh? Who are you going to marry?"

J: "Just myself."

Me: "Usually when people get married, they marry another person."

J: "I get married, then I will like screaming babies."


Alrighty then!

Oh for the love...marriage and kids at the age of six?!? Is he trying to give me a stroke? I'm thinking that he thinks he'll be more tolerant of "screaming babies", aka his little brother, when he gets married and has a family of his own? After all, mom's and dad's don't get mad when their babies cry? (And why do I keep laughing about Sixteen Candles with Long Duck Dong "...married?!?")

So, my little guy is planning on getting married this summer, which leads to the really important question- does this mean I have to throw him a bachelor party?

Plop, plop, fizz, fizz...

I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of my chest...oh wait...those are boobs.

Anyway...let the celebration begin, because- Jaysen's IEP is finally finished!
Signed, sealed, and delivered.

What a relief. Did I mention that it's 26 pages long? Hahaaaa....yep- 26 pages of pretty darn close to iron clad bulletproof protection.

I can finally breathe.

Losing my religion

Or apparently is the concern of every mortal being I encounter lately.


Religion is like sales- which is why I generally avoid discussions centered around religious views, like the plague (no pun intended). Don't get me wrong- I actually like a good conversation about different religious views. I find it fascinating to hear people's different beliefs and customs. But there are also those people that once you get into a conversation, they will tell you the finer points of their religion, why they chose their path, and how your life would be so much better if you became a card-carrying member of their institiution as well.


Jenny McCarthy had the Mormons.


I have the Jehovas.


I absolutely mean no disrespect to any Jehova's Witnesses out there, but man- you people have endurance like the Energizer bunny!


Tonight is the third time I've been visited by this Jehova crew. Each time, the spokesperson for the group has been a young girl. When I say young, I'm talking no older than 12, and that's stretching it.


Why does she torment me so? Perhaps she is doing her godly duty? Okay, I can accept that. Or perhaps she knows she is cute, bordering on darling, and she knows that my motherly instincts cannot resist the forces of her cuteness- so I stand on the porch, listening to her tell me how Jehova is the way to go.


Tonight was no different, except Jaysen ran to the door to greet the unannounced visitor. He flings the door open to reveal the young girl, freckle-faced and smiling in her flowered dress, cross gleaming around her neck. He greets her with a "what again are you doing here"?


She opens her mouth to respond, but before she can get a word out, Jaysen quickly interrupts her with an "I fart".


Niiiice one, J.


I try to shove him inside the house, but he squirms past me since I have the door half open. Am I supposed to invite her in? I step outside- she tells me that she's stopped by several times, but hasn't been able to catch up with me. I think I now have a Jehova stalker.


So what do I do? Invite her back to chat on Saturday. Why? Because my life just needs a little more spice in it I guess. And by spice, I mean trying to figure out how to ditch this girl in all of her sweetness, and lie to her face about how I just got called for an emergency at a hospital I don't work at. Or something like that.


Why do I do this to myself?!?
I cannot deny the cute.

Top 5 Searches

A few bloggers have posted things like this before- Sitemeter allows you to see how people find your blog, which includes any searches on Google or elsewhere.

I've seen some hysterical ones, but I've never had anything out of the ordinary- just your usual "Autism Cures" (which ironically leads people to my JM post), "Mommy Dearest" (sorry kids, the classic is Mommie Dearest), "Resistance is futile", and things of the like.

Until now.

Ladies and Gentlemen- I have finally drawn some winners.

Starting off the list is someone who searched "This Butt's for You". Why thank you! Although I do have a post titled that, I highly doubt that was the intent of your search. Pervert.

Next, we have "Risperdal for Ticks". I'm sorry- I certainly hope your dog gets that problem under control.

"Funky Resistance". Not a clue.

"Does Fool and You Rhyme?". Umm...no.

And the winner of this round..."Chested Boobies". For real? Chested boobies? WTF is a chested boobie?


People scare me.