Newsflash.

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS SOCIAL AUTISM.

Please, stop.

Um....yeah

*Sigh*
It must be my curse in life, to not be able to laugh at hilariously funny shyt.

Case in point: 
Jaysen got in trouble in school.  Again.

When I went to school to pick him up, I asked him why he had to apologize to his teacher (who just happens to be very bright eyed, young, cute, peppy, etc.). 

He said he called her a name.

I asked him what he called her.

He hesitated, and finally said,
"Mom.......I called her........a sausage."

*blink blink*

I couldn't do anything but stare at him with this crazy look on my face, trying to suck my lower lip into my mouth, chewin' on it like the last supper, so I didn't bust out laughing. 
What made it worse, is he saw my face, and kept telling me "mom, it's not funny", while he's trying to keep a straight face too.

Oy.



Possibly related:

Double digits

Dear Jaysen,

Please stop turning 10.  I'm not sure I'm ready for this just yet.  You're kind of growing up too fast. 
I mean, ten?  Seriously?  So how's about we just wake up tomorrow and pretend it's just a regular day.  Cool?

Thanks,
Mom

And...then you have days like these...

"Jaysen, are you ready for bath?"

"Yes. I want to relax...you don't come in."

Awww...kid wants to relax in privacy...

~Fast forward about 10 minutes~

*clink, clank*

"Uhh... Jaysen? You okay in there?"

"Yes. I inna baff."

"I don't hear water, are you sure you're in the bath?"

"Yes inna baff..." *clink clank*

Knocking as I'm opening the door, only to find standing on a step stool at the mirror... my naked sparkling son, with all of my necklaces on, trying on my rings, smelling like grape Hello Kitty body spray.

I didn't know whether to laugh out loud, or try to hold it all in.

Then he told me he used my deodorant.

So I started cracking up.

And he did too.

'Inna baff' my arse...
Ahhh... I love our bonding days.

Not all suckage is bad.

I cannot lie. I am loving my time off from work. Loving it like I-need-to-find-a-rich-husband-so-I-can-be-a-SAHM kind of loving it. I've gotten to see both boy's swim classes, Rylan's music class, been available for Jaysen's school needs, and even gotten to nap. Nap! I know! So please pardon that I've been missing in action, but I've really just been focusing on...me. Enjoying myself (even though I was healing from surgery), and also doing a lot of introspection.
Snapping back to reality, I go back to work on Friday.

And I quit smoking. Again. Which sucks.
I figured now would be a good time, since I was at home on painkillers, and could just sleep when I wanted one- which is exactly what I did. It's funny though- I don't know my actual quit date, since I was so out of it. Whatever. It still sucks.

But here's something that doesn't suck...

Rylan's 3 and a half. He still has a pacifier. His "paci". He really only uses it at home while relaxing or sleeping, but when I say he uses it, he really uses it. That kid sucks on that paci harder than... well, you get the idea.

So it's time to rid him of the paci.

We decided to have a Paci Party. I got decorations and a cake, Moppi and Peepa brought in a wonderful dinner. After dinner, we helped Rylan put all of his pacis into a big manila envelope. he said he wanted to send them into outer space, so I addressed the envelope accordingly. We tied the last paci onto the string of a balloon.

After cake, we all went outside and Rylan put the package into the mailbox. Then he released the balloon and we watched as his last paci floated up, up, up, up... and got stuck in our neighbor's tree. Oh yes- stuck in the damn tree. Luckily, the tree was so high, only the adults realized what happened. As long as the kids don't look too far up, it'll be okay.

He's had a rough couple nights, but it's getting better.
I totally know the withdrawal he's going through.
We're detoxing together.
Now that's love.


The preparation:



Into the mailbox it goes:


The send off:

Running for the paci- second thought anxiety?

Oh shit...

So yay for Ry going to bed commando with no pacifier!

And yay for me for my um-teenth day of not smoking!

So now if you'll excuse me, I'll be enjoying my last 4 days of being temporarily unemployed- trying to figure out another surgical procedure to have, just so I can do this again. Except Jaysen is now on Spring Break. Ugh.

Pajama Jam

Tonight there's a Pajama Jam at Jaysen's school. He told me this morning that he'd like to go. I am thrilled with this, as it took some goading with the promise of plastic baby cakes to get him to attend last year's Mardi Gras event.

He's excited.
He's super excited to show all of his friends his new Super Paper Mario pajamas.
The pajamas we just got, because he had to have them to replace the ones lost in the fire.
The pajamas that we got a whole size smaller than he really wears, because that's the biggest size they had. In any pajama.
The pajamas that are skin tight and show his belly.
The pajamas I am desperately trying to talk him out of wearing, with no luck at all.
He's excited.

Jaysen lacks the social awareness of knowing the difference of people laughing with him, or at him. He has "friends" who are backhandedly mean to him. Frenemies. I really don't think wearing these ill-fitting jammas are going to turn out well for him. I'm going to try and talk him into wearing a long hoodie or something, but I know he'll claim he's hot, and want to take it off. To show off his jammas that his kid brother could almost fit into. He has other Mario jammas, but these are new. And they're Super Paper Mario. And he lurvs them. He's even made sure they will be clean for tonight.

And it's not just the lack of social awareness. I remember being teased mercilessly as a kid. It can destroy a person. And it almost did. I don't want my son to be that kid. The reality is, he's going to get teased anyway. I don't want to give kids any more fuel than they already have. I do not want kids to whisper "hey- that's the kid who came to the Pajama Jam in third grade, with the jammas that his mom cut the elastic on so he could breathe...". It's like the kid with the holey underwear. Or the stinky kid. Ugh. I'm mortified already.

The silver lining?
The party is over at 8pm. When we get home, he'll already be in jammas.
Sweet.

Um...yeah.

When I discovered just how literal people with Autism could be, I made a parental vow. I vowed that I would never lie to my son. I really just thought I would rather not confuse him, and keep things real.

Sure it could get sticky with all the wondrous magic of childhood, but really? I grew up without Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny, and I turned out okay. Alright, it's debatable.

Anyhoo, I've managed to keep that vow by creative explanations and good ol' fashioned deception.
Jaysen asked me this year if Santa was real. My response to him was "What do you think?" To which he replied "I dunno" and he left it with that.
While I evaded, I did not lie.

Yup. I'm not going to lie to my kid.
Boy...am I regretting that decision at this moment.
(This has nothing to do with Santa, bytheway)

While I've been very open and upfront with body parts and their names and functions, here's a conversation I never thought I would have with my 8 year old son.

*note to the squeamish- turn back now. For those of you whom like to see me writhe, read on.*

I'm in the bathroom minding, well doing, my business. The door opens and Jaysen walks in- 'cuz that's just how I roll. If the door is locked, it's probably more business than I care to share with anyone. But it wasn't that kind of business.

Jaysen: Mom? What's dat ting?
Me: What thing, honey?
Jaysen: Dat... ting. Da ting you put in dere. (pointing to my panty-entangled knees)
Me: *ohcrap* I don't know what you mean, sweetie. Did you finish your DS game?
Jaysen: Mom. Dat ting! You frow it inna toilet.
Me: Bear. I can guarantee you there is nothing in the toilet except pee and toilet paper.
Jaysen: *sigh* like dis, Mom... *my son proceeds to draw a long rectangle in the air with his finger, then does a little squat and slaps his hand in between his legs*
Me: ......... *note- I am not on my period, so this is catching me way off-guard*
Jaysen: What's dat ting?
Me: Oh. That's just a pad. Are you ready for jammas?
Jaysen: What's a pad?
Me: .........
Jaysen: It's like dis. *repeats drawing in air, complete with crotch slap*
Me: Yeah.... Jaysen, I don't know if I want to tell you. I mean, I can tell you, but it's kinda gross. If you really want to know, I'll tell you. I think. Maybe.
Jaysen: Yes! I wanna know!
Me: *mentally looking for any out possible* Are you sure? You really have to listen.
Jaysen: Yes, Mom. I really wanna know.
Me: Okay... see, when kids start to become adults, there's a thing called puberty.
Jaysen: What's dat?
Me: Puberty means different things to different people. Boys may start to grow hair on their lip, girls may start to get breasts, both boys and girls may start to get hair on their legs and armpits. Are you sure you really want to know? You have to pay attention if you're making me do this.
Jaysen: *laughing* Okay.
Me: So, one thing that happens to a girl, is she gets what's called her period. *waiting for the lightbulb to come on...hoping this is enough...crap, it's not coming on* A period is when a girl bleeds from her vagina.
Jaysen: *eyes as big as Jupiter* Gasp! Oh no!
Me: It's okay, it doesn't hurt the girl (okay, so maybe I do lie to him). But that's why we use pads and tampons.
Jaysen: What's a tampon?
Me: *why do I never know when to shut my mouf?* Same thing as a pad.
Jaysen: Mom? Boys get periods?
Me: No, sweetie. Only girls.
Jaysen: Whoo-hoo!
Me: *yeah, no shit*

So, if you have boys and thought you were safe from this conversation... think again.

*And for the record, I do not throw any of the aforementioned supplementary aids into the toilet*

Thank you for not going all enviro-crazy.

Fishy.

Seriously?

Quit cheesin' and get back to your swim class.

Freedom of Religion

I have spoken in the past, about our motley crew when it comes to religious/spiritual views here at the Casa de Quirk. Or have I? I don't know. I really don't remember. However, while decorating our tree this afternoon...

Jaysen: Mommy? Are you Christian?
Me: No... are you?
Jaysen: Yes.
Me: (erp?)
Jaysen: Do you celebrate Christmas?
Me: Um, yeah... kind of...
Jaysen: If you celebrate Christmas, then you're Christian.
Companion: Are Moppi and Peepa Christian?
Jaysen: No, they don't celebrate Christmas. They're Jewish.
Me: .................
Companion: Well, we celebrate the feeling of Christmas. People being nice to each other.
Me: Yeah (omg, nice save!), It's called the holiday spirit.
Me: Do you know who is Christian? Gramma. She can probably answer any questions you may have. See, Christians believe in Jesus Christ. Do you know who Jesus is?
Jaysen: Mom. I'm playing Sonic.
Me: *whew*

And today?
Today is the day that I found out my son is apparently Christian.
Oy.

Big brothers are the best.

Since I don't actually have a big brother, I just have to assume that big brothers are the best, from watching my own heathens.
However, I am a big sister, and also am the best- so it totally must be true.

Case in point:
Me: C'mon Rylan, take your medicine.
Ry: No fankyu. I don' like medicine.
Me: I know, but it will help you feel better.
Ry: I said NO! I do not love medicine!
Me: Ry... here ya go. *big cheesy encouraging smile* Drink it up!
Ry: I DO NOT love medicine!
Me: ...I'll give you a Tootsie Roll?
Ry: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Me: *No Tootsie Roll? Shit, now what do I do???*

Me: Jaysen! Come here and see if you can get your brother to take this medicine.

Jaysen: Here Rylan, take your medicine...
Ry: Okay. *takes medicine*

*sigh*

Although last night, Jaysen goaded Rylan into taking his medicine by first making the med cup into a puppet and saying "Hi Rylan! I want to be in your body!" and when that didn't work, resorted to, "If you don't take your medicine, a big scary monster will come and eat you".

Nice.

True love...again.

My kids were not invited to my sister's wedding.
What?!? You didn't know my sister got married?
Hmm... must've forgot to mention it.

ANYway...

We have 2 parties this weekend for the newlydreads, and I had to prepare Jaysen.
I knew he was going to have difficulty understanding that yes, Sissy is now married, and sorry, but nobody told you.


"Who is Sissy marry?"
"She married DB."

"Mommy... who did you married?"
"I married... your Dad."
"My Dad? My Daddy?
*shiver* "Yes, your daddy."

"Mommy... why did you married Daddy?"
*oh.my.buddha.on.a.half.shell- choke back the bile, choke back the bile.*
"Well, I married your Daddy because..*holycrap I really think I'm gonna barf*..we were in love."


"I'm going to get married."
"Yeah? Maybe one day you will..."
"No, I'm going to married Marissa."
"Marissa from your class?"
"Yep. We're falling in love."
"Uhh... Does Marissa know that?"
"We are in loooooooooove!"
".....Oh."

And then he began to practice how he was going to ask Marissa to marry him.
Hope she knows how to make mac-n-cheese.

Halloweenies 2009

I love Hallowe'en. It's my absolutely favoritest holiday of the year. Every year, I look forward to the possibility that Jaysen has gotten over his costuming phobia - costumes are cool, as long as there's nothing on his face, and as long as Mom doesn't dress up. See here.

But this year, seemed different.

This was the first year my sensory-evasive son, conquered his issues and actually touched the pumpkin guts.
Not only did he touch them, he actually got in there and dug around in the pumpkin!
Granted, he only used one hand, but still- he was covered in pumpkin yuck, fingers to elbow, and was having a blast!

Awesome!

Enter the Hallowe'en wrecker...

...that would be the one on the left.

Costuming was no big issue this year, since he wanted to be Luigi.
Luigi without the signature mustache.
Okay, whatever. He was still really cute, and very excited.



We had a Mario costume for Rylan, which he was geeked about as well. When it came down to it though, he wanted to be Thomas the Train.
Thomas? Seriously?
Ugh.
But it's not about me, so he was Thomas.

Cutest Thomas evar!

Time for Trick-or-Treating.

Last year, my kids were all about it.
It took Rylan one house to figure out "I say Trick-or-Treat, and get candy?!? I totally got this one!"

This year?

Rylan chanted "I not go Trick-or-Treat!" as we started to walk the neighborhood, and sat at the end of each driveway, crying. Would not go up to the houses.
He Trick-or-Treated at a total of two houses- mine, and my parent's.

Jaysen wasn't much better. He Trick-or-Treated at a total of five houses. He was really selective on which houses he went up to. Not for any particular reason, just saying "That's okay, we'll go to a different one."

They were done in under 30 min.
Weenies.

Jaysen did get a kick out of passing out candy to other Trick-or-Treaters once back at the house. He was dishing out huge handfuls, and thought it was funny that the recipients would say "WOW!" when he filled their bags.



But!

You've got to see my dismay by now... I have no candy to pilfer!
C'mon! It's a mom's job to pilfer all the good stuff out of the kid's take-home stash!

Seriously, there's nothing to loot.
And I'm so bummed. Not one chocolate bar of any kind.

So, dear Jaysen, I'm thrilled you had a fun Hallowe'en-
But once again, you totally wrecked it for your mom.
Next year, you stay home and pass out candy. I'll go Trick-or-Treating.
I'll school ya on how it's done.

Because this?!? Is pathetic.

Sniffle.

Scary?

Imagine this conversation a few mornings ago.

Me: Good morning sweetie, did you sleep good?
Jaysen: No. I have a bad dream.
Me: Really? Do you remember what it was about?
Jaysen: Yeah... I have a nightmare... about The Backyardigans.
Me: Uh... The Backyardigans?
Jaysen: Yes. The Backyardigans.

Seriously folks?

My kid just lost his Rockstar status.

Holding my breath.

It's too quiet.
And I'm starting to tweak.

Why am I freaking out?
Because (gasp) school is starting soon, and I'm not freaking out.
I know that probably makes about as much sense as butt-hairs on a tarantula, but it's effing true.

I am freaking out, because I am not freaking out.

Jaysen starts third grade soon.
Third grade!
That's big! Huge!
That's like the equivalent of a sophomore for elementary school!
Third grade is where it all really begins.
It's the start of social circles.
It's the start of real projects and assignments.
It's the start of math homework that mom may not be able to help with.
It's the start of new interests.
It's the stuff that dreams are made of.

This damn school is so wonderful, that I have no doubt they have Jaysen's best interest at heart. They make me feel comfortable that my son is in good hands. And apparently I don't like to feel comfortable. Comfortable is very un-comforting to me.

I'm holding my breath, waiting for something to happen. Waiting for the phone call that informs me that the school was ransacked by pirates and there won't be any red jello this year. Or the sp.ed teacher was arrested for having sex with a giraffe. Or the gen.ed teacher won the lotto and moved to Switzerland to become an expert knife sharpener. Or the principal had gender reassignment surgery and now requires to be addressed as The Lovely Princess Mojito... Something is going to happen, because that's just how it goes!

Why can't I just relax and let the school year start like any other parent?!?!
And why wasn't xanax included on the school supply list again this year?

*twitch*

Love is in the air?

"...Bella...."

"The hearts... the love... the kisses!"

"Kiss me, Bella!"

Excerpts from the book Twilight?
Nope.
Straight from the mouth of my 7 year old, about a girl in his class.
Over, and over, and over.

I am so screwed.

Grody.

Know what's gross?
Like really, really gross?
Grosser than a hickey from Steven Tyler?
Grosser than Ron Jeremy nekkid?
Grosser than this guy?
Grosser than Jocelyn Wildenstien?

Okay...

You're driving home from work.
It's hot, despite the open window.
You're getting a little sticky.
You realize, damn- I am one funky mess!
However, you notice the lovely smell wafting from your pits, isn't your usual earthy musk.

It's then you realize that you probably forgot to wash the donated shirt you're wearing.
Other people's BO mixed in with your sweatiness.
Ew.

Droppin' el ball.

*Sigh*

Have I mentioned The Sick has invaded the household once again?
Yeah, can't seem to get away from it.
Luckily, or unluckily, I am the final victim.

So.

Jaysen lost another tooth yesterday- it's so funny now because he has these two big rabbit-teeth in the front where his adult teeth grew in, and two open spaces on each side of his lower middle teeth. I can't look at his smile without cracking up.

Anyway- so he lost a tooth.
We had a special "Tooth Fairy holder-thing" that was actually a ceramic fairy votive candle holder from Partylite. It was a ceramic fairy holding out her hand, and had a little glass cup for a votive or tealight candle. That's what we used to put his teeth in for the Tooth Fairy. No messing with pillows and chancing kids waking up or anything. I impress myself at times.

Since we don't have the Tooth Fairy holder-thing anymore, we put Jaysen's tooth in a fancy schmancy goblet. Surely the Tooth Fairy would like something of such beauty.

Did I mention I'm sick?

I was too tired to remind Jaysen to write a note to the Tooth Fairy, so we just put the tooth in and he went to bed. I had a lot of stuff to do for the insurance claim, so I was working until I thought I was going to pass out.

Took a shot of NyQuil, and went to bed.

You guessed it.
In the morning when Jaysen woke up- the tooth was still there.
Crappity, crap, crap.
I did the ultimate mind-fuck and told him he must have been dreaming because I just checked, and the tooth was gone. He went upstairs to check. In the goblet was a dollar bill.

He.Was.So.Upset.
The Tooth Fairy didn't leave him a note.
The Tooth Fairy always leaves him a note.
And what was with the dollar bill?
The Tooth Fairy always leaves cool stuff like a silver dollar or the gold dollar coins.
A regular dollar bill? You've got to be kidding.

So- I kinda dropped the ball on this one, big time.
He's still hurt the Tooth Fairy didn't leave him a note. He tore apart his room looking for it. I told him maybe she forgot to leave one because he forgot to write one to her, but he wasn't buying it.

But did I mention I was sick???
Lesson learned: Tooth Fairies should not drink NyQuil.

Third helping?

I feel compelled to blog about something that's come to my attention more than a few times in the past couple weeks. Apparently, people are wanting to know if I am going to... try for more children.

Are you people out of your freakin minds?!?

Seriously?
I mean, have you seen how crazy my life is already?
'Cuz let's just throw a baby on top of all of this- all smushy and cute, covered in drool, snot, and stale formula. No sleep til Brooklyn style.

Despite my tubal ligation and BBQ tweeter procedures, let's just pretend I could get pregnant. Um... I'm not exactly wanting to push anymore kids out of my hoo-ha thank you.
I've done it twice and amazingly enough, it still hasn't made my list of top 10 party games.
The Red One about killed me. And him. I don't care to relive anything like that ever again.
Plus, have you seen my aftermath of a belly that used to be all cute and tight?
Yeah. Awesome.
It's its own entity.
Not to mention, I'm freakin' old, peeps!

What's that? Adoption you say?
There was a time where I would have loved to adopt.
I would have preferred to adopt.
However, this was all before the Meltdown King and his Cute But Chock Full O' Evil little brother became my minions.
Thanks, my hands are full. And so are the Evil One's diapers.

Then the questions...
But what if you meet Mr. Right?
Then I will marry him as we ride off into the sunset on a unicorn, to live in our castle made out of gumdrops.
But what if he wants kids?
Trust me. Mr. Right doesn't want any more kids.
But how do you know?
The Leprechauns told me.
But don't you want...a girl?
Not anymore. I've come to the realization the world can only handle one of me.
Just ask my mom.

Did I mention that my little sister is getting married in the fall?
How about bugging her for some rugrats?
Oh- you did? And she said no? Really?
Hmm. I don't think she's serious. Ask her again. Like a million times.
She's just unsure. You should totally persuade her.

Officially, in writing, once again, I'm done like Big Fun. The Baby Factory is out of business.
So you can stop asking now, Jaysen.

Calling in a favor...

I am so humbled.
Many of you have inquired about various ways to help me and my family.
I appreciate everyone who has helped, who wants to help, and who will help in the future.
I appreciate everything, even the kind words and thoughts.

I am uncomfortable asking for donations, but I should put it out there that Kev has mentioned our story and has set up a PayPal account for us. (follow link, or see widget at bottom of page) Thank you, Kev.

That being said, I have absolutely no qualms about soliciting other things from you all. :)

You may or may not have picked up on the fact that I am a huge music buff.
I love music. Music makes me happy. Music motivates me.
I had a music collection many would envy. Possibly even you.

Alas, my collection is no more, so here is my favor that I am asking...

Anyone who would like to help my sanity, please feel free to make me a CD (or two, or three, or a bazillion), and send to moi at:

28858 Creek Bend Dr.

Farmington Hills, MI 48331

The CD's can be of anything that you like, that you think I would like, or even things that you don't like- 'cuz chances are I will.

I realize that won't be enough guidance for some, and you will want to know what types of music I listen to... you difficult people...

Quite the eclectic taste musically, so follow along my little ones...

Anything 80's/ Sisters of Mercy/ Switchblade Symphony/ Public Image Limited/ Matthew Sweet/ Billy Bragg/ the Church/ Janes Addiction/ New Order/ CVB/ Concrete Blonde/ Kitchens of Distinction/ Peter Murphy/ Nena/ Echo & the Bunnymen/ TMBG/ Genitorturers/ Siouxsie & the Banshees/ the Cars/ David Bowie/ Depeche Mode/ Velvet Underground/ Sloan/ Pet Shop Boys/ Plimsouls/ Stone Roses/ Psychedelic Furs/ Duran Duran/ the Smiths/ Morrissey/ Husker Du/ Sugar/ Bjork/ AC/DC/ Mindless Self Indulgence/ Bauhaus/ the Vandals/ Parasites/ Descendants/ old Ministry/ Dead Kennedys/ Slick Rick/ George Clinton/ Eazy-E/ NWA/ Public Enemy/ Mix-a-Lot/ Luke/ MC Chris/ Steel Pulse/ Black Eyed Peas/ the Rakes/ the Cure/ Plastiscene/ Aztec Camera/ Adam Ant/ Arcade Fire/ PWEI/ David Bowie/ BIF Naked/ Yo la Tengo/ Fingers eleven/ Gorillaz/ the Charlatans/ Chameleons and yes...Journey.

Just a sampling y'know.

Many thanks go out to you.
I love, love, love, each and every one of you. Oh yes, like that.

If you are not so musically inclined, there is also Kev's way.

Let it be known there is also an APB out for Baby Einstein and So Smart videos. You all know how much Jaysen loved his tapes- he is still pining for them (even though we have been able to replace some of them). He is especially upset about losing "Red Baby Mozart". Red Baby Mozart is the Baby Mozart VHS that has a white sticker on the tape casing, and Baby Mozart is written in red writing. It was Jaysen's first video, so it holds special meaning to him.
If anyone is able to locate this, please send it our way. He (and I) will be eternally grateful!

Thank you, and I'll continue to update.

Unreasonable fears.

Last night at bedtime, Jaysen insisted that he wanted to sleep in his jeans.
After much goading, he finally told me why.

"Don't take my pants off because ladybugs will crawl in my butt!"

Ladybugs.
Seriously? Ladybugs???

Erp?