Don’t Cry Over Spilled Milk, or Spilled Coffee


image

Yup, that title has a literal translation. I’m actually in the middle of cleaning up my coffee off the girls pale pink rug. However, I had to stop for a minute and reevaluate my method of stomping on the towel to try and to soak it up. The towel isn’t working and either did the tub of baby wipes I used first. I’m sure Oxyclean will get it out, but I’m afraid the amount I’d need to use would bleach the carpet. Sigh. Nothing can be as simple as enjoying a cup of coffee while playing house with a two year old.

image

But as I sit here almost to the point of trying to lick the coffee from the carpet to get that caffeine fix I need; I think back to earlier this week when in a 5 second time span Diva and Bug doused the kitchen floor with cups of non-staining water. Was my reaction so lax and unfrenized? I can guarantee you it wasn’t.

Why do we have double standards for our children? I think that we also have different standards for our neurotypical and Autistic children. But why? I have mentioned before how I personally treat all my children the same despite their diagnosises. I know this can not always be the case. In our family we are fortunate we can. However, I don’t. I treat my children differently then I treat myself; I shouldn’t I realize now.

So next time one of the kids spill anything,  I am going to treat them the same way I acted today; with a lax attitude and standing onto of that towel to stop the mess up. However, from now on there will be no tears for us. I have tried hard over the past years to be a better me. It is never easy to change old habits,  but sometimes you have to.

I’m Sitting Alone in my Closet with a Beer; We’ve All Been There


image

Don’t judge. I’ve been called a lot of despicable and ugly names; but fake ain’t one. It’s been a long day and as I’m finally able to take a breather and come out of my closet (please don’t judge my mess either), I can sit back enjoying my beer and smirk at the events of today. I didn’t smile because they all didn’t make me happy; but there definitely is humor to my day.

However, as I sat in my closet and notice our unpacked suitcases from the move, found the raw hides the dogs been hiding, and the clipped toe nails from around the trash can by the toilet (I told you I don’t hold back) I thought about everything that happened today to make it today.

I was able to attend my second MOPS meeting here in town. I loved it. I got to talk to other real mom’s like me; the ones who admit they hide in their bathrooms too. We learned about owing motherhood and not negating the value of our job. Just because we don’t have a weekly pay check or putting money into our 401k, does not mean we aren’t worth anything. It just means what we are worth as mom’s is a inmeauserable amount. Remember that moms; there is no hourly wage or yearly salary that can measure up to what we provide for our children and family now and into the future. Also, remember that if you need that 50….err 5 minute break in the bathroom- don’t forget the bottle opener.

Stage One: the Honeymoon Phase; New ABA ‘s


IMG_7530.JPG

Week one went smashing. We were all smiles and giggles, talking non stop and dining on lavish meals. Our real honeymoon almost 10 years ago was even better. However, hubs and I am still in that lovey dovey stage while I have a feeling that same feeling has passed between Bug, Diva and their new ABA’s.

I wasn’t present for their first session in clinic, nor their second session at home. I got resounding, and not surprisingly, positive reports from each ABA. Not surprising because with all new relationship there is that ooey gooey stage of bliss and a high of happiness meeting a new friend. At that point the therapist hasn’t unleashed her cruelty of trying new foods, park trips just to practice conversations and actual work. The first week is all about building a relationship and friendship to gain trust and respect.

Nevertheless, the honeymoon period should soon be over and they have their work cut out for them chasing our eloping children and trying to get them to eat one kernel of corn. Neither ABA will be remarking on the child’s eagerness to please or their engaging attention span.

I will hold out hope for the sake of not burning out the ABA’s and making them question their profession of choice. God speed ladies and may the force be with you

Back to School; Back to School; To Prove to Daddy I’m not a Fool


IMG_7508.JPG

First day of school for my 1st grader and kindergartener. I typically wake up a little early to take my daily medication before I actually have to get up. My medication requires me to not eat or drink for one hour after consumption. I plan it out strategically so when my alarm actually does go off I can have my coffee. Now remember how I said it was the first day of school? Yea, it’s also the one day I took the wrong medication at 5 am and can’t have my coffee until after I walk the kids to school. Yea for alarm clocks, feverishly packing school lunches because you forgot to the night before and fighting with your child over which uniform ensemble to wear. Summer vacation is over!

I’m sure a few of our readers can sing with me-

“I’ve got my shoes tied tight, my lunch bag packed; I hope I don’t get in a fight”.

Can anyone take a guess as to why I am walking around my house singing this song at the top of my lungs annoying my children today? Well you don’t have to guess, I’m so excited I just can’t wait for you-school is back in session! Bug started yesterday and Diva started today. I might even pop open a bottle of wine to celebrate. Hell, I definitely will pop open a bottle of wine to celebrate. However, I have a feeling a few of our other readers are gasping and clinging tightly to their children reading in horror as I want to celebrate the joyous occasion of only having one child left in the nest.

Let me explain; I feel like society expects us as devoted mothers to shutter and lock our children away in their rooms to never grow up and stay our babies forever. For those mommies, I found this published at Lessons from the Middle

IMG_7484.JPG

It’s sweet, it’s sentimental and it’s heart warming. Can I also add it’s a year jerker?

However, I’m not blowing my nose and wiping away tears that easily. The last page is filled out in the baby books (wait, did I have baby books?) and the door is closed on another chapter in our household.

I could sit her and sob over my two eldest in school and wish the baby wouldn’t grow up, but isn’t that what parents are suppose to do? We want to raise our children up and boost their self esteems to be confident people to go out and explore the world. If we let them see us cry and be sorrowful, our children will only feel like we were holding them from something bigger and better and regret us later on. What well adjusted child leaves their mother crying over leaving the nest? None. However, what well adjust parent cries tears of sorrow over their children leaving? The answer should be none.

We should be celebrating and rejoicing over their accomplishments and our own accomplishment for keeping them alive long enough to get that far. No one hands us a parenting book upon leaving the hospital. Nevertheless, at least we can provide our children with the support and lessons to conquer the world, or at least first grade, one clean Kleenex at a time.

So raise those glasses and let’s toast to another year of keeping our sanity, keeping our kids alive and keeping a promise to ourselves we will be happy for our children knowing they will one day grow their own set if wings.