The Cost of Autism
I read in the paper this week that the family of an autistic child makes $6200 less per year than the average family with a normally functioning child. I'm not sure how exactly they figured this out, but the basic finding was that between taking off early from work for therapy and doctors appointments, and IEP meetings and such at school, or simply not working (depending on the severity of the autism in the child), families with kids are the spectrum are poorer on average each year than other families.
Whatever.
I have been very fortunate in my work situation. When FrogBoy was about to start kindergarten, a full year before he was ever diagnosed, I started crunching numbers. It quickly became apparent to me that it would cost "X" amount of money to send the boys to daycare for 2 hours each afternoon. It would take me 2 hours to earn "X" amount of money. Being the mathematical genuis that I am, I realized that I would be working to send them to daycare...and that didn't seem like God's plan for our family.
After much wailing and gnashing of teeth, I approached Geoff about my plan. I wanted to work 7:30-2:30, the hours the boys were in school. There was nothing in it for the church. Our family would get all the benefits.
I really expected a solid "NO" before I was sent packing. What I was greeted with, however, was a resounding "That sounds like a GREAT idea!" (He may not remember it, but that's exactly what he said.) Geoff was kind enough to then make my argument for me, telling me how great it would be to be home with the boys in the afternoon to help with homework, etc. At this point Spanky was in 3rd grade, so we'd done life the other way - with him going to afterschool care and then rushing to do homework when we all got home at 5:00. And we were miserable.
So the day FrogBoy started kindergarten, I started a new chapter in my life. I became the mom taxi, in charge of ferrying the boys to and from school, to appointments, and simply running errands or taking them for ice cream after school. What a glorious day that was!
We've been doing this for 5 years now. I am able to walk FrogBoy to his class each morning, and pick him up in his class each afternoon. With his extreme sensitivity to crowds and noises, and his tendency to wander, both of which make the carpool line a no-go, this has been HUGE. I'm so thankful God KNEW, and handled all the details when I thought it was just MY good idea.
We may make $6200 a year less than other families with "normal" kids, but we are RICH indeed.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Homework Hassles
Today was one of those days for FrogBoy. He had a great day at school, but something went terribly wrong when he started his homework. He had what I like to call Meltdown Madness.
It started innocently enough. Every week, he has to write a letter to someone in his class (whoever happens to be the "star of the week" that week). If there is no "star," he has to write a letter to the teacher. No big deal. He's been doing this since September, and he's got the hang of it...Or so you would think.
I'm not allowed to oversee his homework very closely. He doesn't like people all up in his business when he's working. (I wonder where he gets that?!) Anyway, I glanced over at his work and noticed that he was skipping lines. I asked if he was working on a rough draft or a final copy, since he's not allowed to skip lines in the final copy, and he usually doesn't do a rough draft, and he informed me that it was his final copy. Houston, we have a problem.
I told him he was going to have to rewrite it. Luckily, he'd only written 2 sentences. I tried to play it down. He wasn't buying it. He asked if he could just draw arrows (smart kid). I told him no, he was going to have to rewrite it. That's when it happened.
Tears. Big fat ones. And then...he balled up his letter and threw it on the floor and told me "I'm NEVER writing a letter again!" Hello, meltdown!!
I finally managed to calm him down and get him started with a nice, new, clean piece of paper. UNTIL...
FrogBoy: "I can't use THIS!"
Me: "Why not?"
FrogBoy: "Because of THIS!!!" (said with an unspoken "STUPID WOMAN!" at the end)
Me: "I don't see anything."
FrogBoy: "THIS, right here!!!"
I looked. I squinted. I put my glasses on. And then I saw it. A speck no bigger than a pin prick. Right there in the margin of his paper. God forbid.
Fortuntely, I had to leave. I left things in the trustworthy hands of SuperHubby. Sometimes all it takes is a different perspective. I'm not sure what happened, but when I got back an hour later, the letter was written, the tears were gone, and Legos were being built.
Thank you Lord.
Today was one of those days for FrogBoy. He had a great day at school, but something went terribly wrong when he started his homework. He had what I like to call Meltdown Madness.
It started innocently enough. Every week, he has to write a letter to someone in his class (whoever happens to be the "star of the week" that week). If there is no "star," he has to write a letter to the teacher. No big deal. He's been doing this since September, and he's got the hang of it...Or so you would think.
I'm not allowed to oversee his homework very closely. He doesn't like people all up in his business when he's working. (I wonder where he gets that?!) Anyway, I glanced over at his work and noticed that he was skipping lines. I asked if he was working on a rough draft or a final copy, since he's not allowed to skip lines in the final copy, and he usually doesn't do a rough draft, and he informed me that it was his final copy. Houston, we have a problem.
I told him he was going to have to rewrite it. Luckily, he'd only written 2 sentences. I tried to play it down. He wasn't buying it. He asked if he could just draw arrows (smart kid). I told him no, he was going to have to rewrite it. That's when it happened.
Tears. Big fat ones. And then...he balled up his letter and threw it on the floor and told me "I'm NEVER writing a letter again!" Hello, meltdown!!
I finally managed to calm him down and get him started with a nice, new, clean piece of paper. UNTIL...
FrogBoy: "I can't use THIS!"
Me: "Why not?"
FrogBoy: "Because of THIS!!!" (said with an unspoken "STUPID WOMAN!" at the end)
Me: "I don't see anything."
FrogBoy: "THIS, right here!!!"
I looked. I squinted. I put my glasses on. And then I saw it. A speck no bigger than a pin prick. Right there in the margin of his paper. God forbid.
Fortuntely, I had to leave. I left things in the trustworthy hands of SuperHubby. Sometimes all it takes is a different perspective. I'm not sure what happened, but when I got back an hour later, the letter was written, the tears were gone, and Legos were being built.
Thank you Lord.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
10 Things I Learned in First Grade
I originally posted this list in 2006. I totally stole it from the SC Center for Disabilities newsletter. I don't care. I like it, and I'm going to share it (steal it) again. Since we found out FrogBoy had autism when he was in the first grade, my contribution to the post is the clever title.
1. Autism or not, they are still a blessing. (I would like to add the caveat "Most of the time.")
2. There is no such thing as normal.
3. No two are alike. (You ain't just whistling Dixie there!!)
4. How autistic I really am. (Indeed)
5. If I stay calm, it will have a domino effect. (I really wish I could remember this one more...in the moment...)
6. Don't stay in denial; no one gets better there.
7. Major the majors and minor the minors (or...don't sweat the small stuff.)
8. A sense of humor is EVERYTHING.
9. A simple smile can tell me more than one word. (Thank God we have lots of smiles from our Frog Man).
10. Miracles happen every day if you know where to look.
I'd like to close with some profound comment. Unfortunately, I've got nothing. I will say this...even though it's hard, even though I wouldn't have chosen this path, I'm thankful God chose me to be FrogBoy's mom.
I originally posted this list in 2006. I totally stole it from the SC Center for Disabilities newsletter. I don't care. I like it, and I'm going to share it (steal it) again. Since we found out FrogBoy had autism when he was in the first grade, my contribution to the post is the clever title.
1. Autism or not, they are still a blessing. (I would like to add the caveat "Most of the time.")
2. There is no such thing as normal.
3. No two are alike. (You ain't just whistling Dixie there!!)
4. How autistic I really am. (Indeed)
5. If I stay calm, it will have a domino effect. (I really wish I could remember this one more...in the moment...)
6. Don't stay in denial; no one gets better there.
7. Major the majors and minor the minors (or...don't sweat the small stuff.)
8. A sense of humor is EVERYTHING.
9. A simple smile can tell me more than one word. (Thank God we have lots of smiles from our Frog Man).
10. Miracles happen every day if you know where to look.
I'd like to close with some profound comment. Unfortunately, I've got nothing. I will say this...even though it's hard, even though I wouldn't have chosen this path, I'm thankful God chose me to be FrogBoy's mom.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Family Ties
My brother has 3 kids: David, 14, Jacob, 11, and Mary-Elizabeth, almost 9. My boys are 13 and 10. As you can see, we had a little friendly competition going for about six years.
The kids love spending time together. But what's really great about it is that, while they all know Michael has autism, it doesn't stop them from treating him any differently than anyone else. For the most part.
The kids all know that my senses are a little heightened when it comes to keeping an eye on Michael. (More on that in another post.) And they are great about watching out for him, making sure he's not getting into anything he's not supposed to (like the lake behind my aunt's house). They also have no hesitation in tattling when he's doing something wrong or just plain annoying them.
On Easter, SuperHubby and I were at work...so the boys spent the night at my aunt's. Before they left, I knew it was going to turn into a weekend-long visit; my brother's kids were going to show up on Easter, and they were going to suck up until my aunt and uncle had at the minimum 5 kids spending the night. Sure enough, they had all 4 boys that night.
Here's the great thing: When they got home, I heard that David (remember, he's 14) had spent quite a bit of time outside with Michael playing basketball with him. David's great about doing things with Michael, and he really has a gentle spirit and is very patient.
Then he tied him to the goalpost.
Michael loved it. He was treated just like all the other kids. That's something he doesn't get everywhere else...but you can always count on family. Family will always put you in your place. And then tie you down so you'll stay there.
My brother has 3 kids: David, 14, Jacob, 11, and Mary-Elizabeth, almost 9. My boys are 13 and 10. As you can see, we had a little friendly competition going for about six years.
The kids love spending time together. But what's really great about it is that, while they all know Michael has autism, it doesn't stop them from treating him any differently than anyone else. For the most part.
The kids all know that my senses are a little heightened when it comes to keeping an eye on Michael. (More on that in another post.) And they are great about watching out for him, making sure he's not getting into anything he's not supposed to (like the lake behind my aunt's house). They also have no hesitation in tattling when he's doing something wrong or just plain annoying them.
On Easter, SuperHubby and I were at work...so the boys spent the night at my aunt's. Before they left, I knew it was going to turn into a weekend-long visit; my brother's kids were going to show up on Easter, and they were going to suck up until my aunt and uncle had at the minimum 5 kids spending the night. Sure enough, they had all 4 boys that night.
Here's the great thing: When they got home, I heard that David (remember, he's 14) had spent quite a bit of time outside with Michael playing basketball with him. David's great about doing things with Michael, and he really has a gentle spirit and is very patient.
Then he tied him to the goalpost.
Michael loved it. He was treated just like all the other kids. That's something he doesn't get everywhere else...but you can always count on family. Family will always put you in your place. And then tie you down so you'll stay there.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Lego Creations
One of FrogBoy's favorite activities is Legoing. For those not in the know, that is the act of playing with Legos. For FrogBoy, it is an art form. He does it constantly. It is really the only thing that holds his attention and brings him joy. And the things he makes are called Lego Creations.
Every Lego Creation produced by FrogBoy is totally symmetrical. Regardless of how intricate and detailed it is, it is going to be Rain Man symmetrical when he's done. Sometimes they are hollow - and have little surprised buried inside - and sometimes they are solid and could shatter glass if tossed in the general direction of a window. They all have one serious thing in common though: They all have very strange, very unique names.
Often it is the "Michaeltron 2000" or the "Dinosaur Eater 6000." We've actually noticed that "2000" is in the name of a lot of the Lego Creations. He always starts with "I call it.." It's really quite entertaining.
This afternoon, he made a new Lego Creation for the Smurf. This was a great conversation:
FrogBoy: "I made it for Meema. I call it the Lego Fountain of Youth 2000. You put tea, chocolate milk or water in here, and FOOSH! Some assembly required. Results may vary."
Awesome.
One of FrogBoy's favorite activities is Legoing. For those not in the know, that is the act of playing with Legos. For FrogBoy, it is an art form. He does it constantly. It is really the only thing that holds his attention and brings him joy. And the things he makes are called Lego Creations.
Every Lego Creation produced by FrogBoy is totally symmetrical. Regardless of how intricate and detailed it is, it is going to be Rain Man symmetrical when he's done. Sometimes they are hollow - and have little surprised buried inside - and sometimes they are solid and could shatter glass if tossed in the general direction of a window. They all have one serious thing in common though: They all have very strange, very unique names.
Often it is the "Michaeltron 2000" or the "Dinosaur Eater 6000." We've actually noticed that "2000" is in the name of a lot of the Lego Creations. He always starts with "I call it.." It's really quite entertaining.
This afternoon, he made a new Lego Creation for the Smurf. This was a great conversation:
FrogBoy: "I made it for Meema. I call it the Lego Fountain of Youth 2000. You put tea, chocolate milk or water in here, and FOOSH! Some assembly required. Results may vary."
Awesome.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Honesty
Does anyone remember the awesome song by Billy Joel about honesty...and how it's so hard to find...and yet so needed by people? Well, let me tell you, you don't have to worry about that in our house.
One of the great selling points of autism is that autistic kids aren't mean, they don't generally manipulate people or situations, and they don't lie. They are so black and white that there's just no room for anything but the truth in their lives.
And so it is with FrogBoy.
Since he was a baby (well, after he outgrew the ethopian baby look), we've told him how precious and cute he is. Just like all parents do with their kids. Only with Froggie, when we say, "You are so sweet," we are answered with, "I know." No matter how many times we try to explain that's not the most polite answer, it doesn't really matter...he's just answering the statement truthfully.
Another example. Last week Froggie had a substitute. Before she came to his class, his teacher made the mistake of asking everyone if they knew which sub she was. Of course, they couldn't place her...so the teacher informed everyone that she's the one who wears too much lipstick. Thankfully, FrogBoy mentioned this to us several days out, which gave us time to deprogram him before her visit.
The first day she was there, FrogBoy didn't want to go to school. He'd heard rumors around the school that she was mean. He got in the car that afternoon and told me, "You know, she wasn't so bad after all." That's Froggie for you.
If I want to know how I look, I make sure I can take the cold, hard, honest truth before I ask FrogBoy. He's not going to play the "Oh, Mommy, you look beautiful" game, and he's not going to mince words. If I look like a giant eggplant on steriods, he's going to tell me.
Even when he SAYS he's lying, he really means he's joking. We've spent a lot of time working with him on the semantics there, because we don't want him getting in trouble at school for "lying" when he was really just kidding around...but so far he still confuses the 2 words. He HAS gotten in trouble at school, but it's because he WOULDN'T lie, not because he did. He did something wrong, his entire class lied and said he didn't do it (they are VERY protective of him), and he would have gotten away with it, but he 'fessed up. And got detention.
One caveat: Whenever Froggie tastes a new food, he feels compelled to gulp it down, and then say, "YUM." This is regardless of whether he likes it or not. You can only tell by how he answers your next question: "Do you want more?" Usually his very honest response: "No thanks." That means it was disgusting, but for some reason he thinks he's supposed to say "YUM" after tasting things.
So there you have it. You won't always hear what you want to hear from him, but you will always hear the truth.
Does anyone remember the awesome song by Billy Joel about honesty...and how it's so hard to find...and yet so needed by people? Well, let me tell you, you don't have to worry about that in our house.
One of the great selling points of autism is that autistic kids aren't mean, they don't generally manipulate people or situations, and they don't lie. They are so black and white that there's just no room for anything but the truth in their lives.
And so it is with FrogBoy.
Since he was a baby (well, after he outgrew the ethopian baby look), we've told him how precious and cute he is. Just like all parents do with their kids. Only with Froggie, when we say, "You are so sweet," we are answered with, "I know." No matter how many times we try to explain that's not the most polite answer, it doesn't really matter...he's just answering the statement truthfully.
Another example. Last week Froggie had a substitute. Before she came to his class, his teacher made the mistake of asking everyone if they knew which sub she was. Of course, they couldn't place her...so the teacher informed everyone that she's the one who wears too much lipstick. Thankfully, FrogBoy mentioned this to us several days out, which gave us time to deprogram him before her visit.
The first day she was there, FrogBoy didn't want to go to school. He'd heard rumors around the school that she was mean. He got in the car that afternoon and told me, "You know, she wasn't so bad after all." That's Froggie for you.
If I want to know how I look, I make sure I can take the cold, hard, honest truth before I ask FrogBoy. He's not going to play the "Oh, Mommy, you look beautiful" game, and he's not going to mince words. If I look like a giant eggplant on steriods, he's going to tell me.
Even when he SAYS he's lying, he really means he's joking. We've spent a lot of time working with him on the semantics there, because we don't want him getting in trouble at school for "lying" when he was really just kidding around...but so far he still confuses the 2 words. He HAS gotten in trouble at school, but it's because he WOULDN'T lie, not because he did. He did something wrong, his entire class lied and said he didn't do it (they are VERY protective of him), and he would have gotten away with it, but he 'fessed up. And got detention.
One caveat: Whenever Froggie tastes a new food, he feels compelled to gulp it down, and then say, "YUM." This is regardless of whether he likes it or not. You can only tell by how he answers your next question: "Do you want more?" Usually his very honest response: "No thanks." That means it was disgusting, but for some reason he thinks he's supposed to say "YUM" after tasting things.
So there you have it. You won't always hear what you want to hear from him, but you will always hear the truth.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Baby It's Cold Outside
We have a little issue with FrogBoy. (If you've been reading every day this month, you're probably thinking we have a LOT of little issues with FrogBoy. You would be correct.)
Anyway, FrogBog does not like to be cold. And EVERYTHING makes him cold. It causes great distress every morning, from the time SuperHubby tries to wake him up ("But it's COLD!!"), to the time SH wraps him in a snuggly warm blanket so he'll eat breakfast, to the time I try to get him dressed for school (while he's hiding under said snuggly warm blanket, screaming, "But I'm COLD!!!!!!")
No amount of coaxing or pleading or screaming or threatening helps. It takes an act of Congress to move him along to getting his clothes on. After 10 years, we still haven't convinced him he'll be LESS cold if he puts MORE clothes on.
And this is in the summer months. Forget it during the winter. I'd rather cut off my toe than have to try and get him dressed. It is not fun.
To make matters worse, water makes him even colder, and he isn't particularly fond of getting wet (which is why sometimes we don't leave the house when it's raining), and if water gets in his eyes - water, not soap - he is BLINDED FOR LIFE!!!! Are you seeing where I'm going with this? Bathing the child is a daily battle.
But here's the twist: The minute he walks in the door, whether it's summer or winter, he takes off all his clothes. He streaks around the rest of the evening in just his underwear, possibly socks, and maybe his blanket wrapped around his shoulders for good measure. But HE'S NEVER COLD. I don't understand.
I asked him yesterday why he took off all his clothes. SH suggested it might be because I do the same thing. In my defense, I take off my shoes and my bra and put on a ratty tee when I get home...but I see his point. I'm not much for clothes myself, so while we're blaming the autism for Froggie's naked desires, it may actually just be hereditary.
Lucky Froggie. He takes after me.
We have a little issue with FrogBoy. (If you've been reading every day this month, you're probably thinking we have a LOT of little issues with FrogBoy. You would be correct.)
Anyway, FrogBog does not like to be cold. And EVERYTHING makes him cold. It causes great distress every morning, from the time SuperHubby tries to wake him up ("But it's COLD!!"), to the time SH wraps him in a snuggly warm blanket so he'll eat breakfast, to the time I try to get him dressed for school (while he's hiding under said snuggly warm blanket, screaming, "But I'm COLD!!!!!!")
No amount of coaxing or pleading or screaming or threatening helps. It takes an act of Congress to move him along to getting his clothes on. After 10 years, we still haven't convinced him he'll be LESS cold if he puts MORE clothes on.
And this is in the summer months. Forget it during the winter. I'd rather cut off my toe than have to try and get him dressed. It is not fun.
To make matters worse, water makes him even colder, and he isn't particularly fond of getting wet (which is why sometimes we don't leave the house when it's raining), and if water gets in his eyes - water, not soap - he is BLINDED FOR LIFE!!!! Are you seeing where I'm going with this? Bathing the child is a daily battle.
But here's the twist: The minute he walks in the door, whether it's summer or winter, he takes off all his clothes. He streaks around the rest of the evening in just his underwear, possibly socks, and maybe his blanket wrapped around his shoulders for good measure. But HE'S NEVER COLD. I don't understand.
I asked him yesterday why he took off all his clothes. SH suggested it might be because I do the same thing. In my defense, I take off my shoes and my bra and put on a ratty tee when I get home...but I see his point. I'm not much for clothes myself, so while we're blaming the autism for Froggie's naked desires, it may actually just be hereditary.
Lucky Froggie. He takes after me.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
He Likes It!! Hey Mikey!!
Everyone remembers the Life cereal commercial with the catchphrase, "He likes it! Hey Mikey!" The kid won't eat anything...but he loves Life cereal.
Oh, if only we were so lucky. Apparently one of the "quirks" of autistic kids is that they don't like a lot of variety in their diets. It has to do with the whole sensory issue, although sometimes it just feels like he's a picky eater.
Here's a complete list of the foods FrogBoy will eat:
Waffles (preferrably Lego Eggo waffles) and pancakes
Eggs
Cheese (including "white cheese" - feta - which we totally don't understand)
Mac and cheese - Easy Mac only
Hot dog buns
Cereal
French fries (which he likes to call "a basket of golden fries")
McDonald's chicken nuggets
Chocolate
Sometimes his lack of flexibility in the food area can be a little challenging. Sometimes SuperHubby manages to sneak something in the mix and he eats it before he realizes it's not on his approved list. However, the one thing he will never, EVER eat is corn. I can't even buy corn when he's with me because he protests so loudly. It's a little embarrassing - like he was abused with an ear of corn as a toddler. But I digress.
So whenever we go out to dinner, Froggie orders "a basket of golden fries." He's precious in how he orders though. He always asks "Do you have a basket of golden fries?" The server, of course, has no clue what he's talking about, so we have to start translating. Actually, I have to start translating - SH can't do that in a crowded restaurant. That would be like me standing up in front of a group of people and sharing my deepest, innermost feelings.
Notice all the foods on the approved list are carbs. We're going to have to get this kid active or we'll have a 600 pound, hot dog bun eating teenager on our hands. And at that point, friends, it stops being cute.
Everyone remembers the Life cereal commercial with the catchphrase, "He likes it! Hey Mikey!" The kid won't eat anything...but he loves Life cereal.
Oh, if only we were so lucky. Apparently one of the "quirks" of autistic kids is that they don't like a lot of variety in their diets. It has to do with the whole sensory issue, although sometimes it just feels like he's a picky eater.
Here's a complete list of the foods FrogBoy will eat:
Waffles (preferrably Lego Eggo waffles) and pancakes
Eggs
Cheese (including "white cheese" - feta - which we totally don't understand)
Mac and cheese - Easy Mac only
Hot dog buns
Cereal
French fries (which he likes to call "a basket of golden fries")
McDonald's chicken nuggets
Chocolate
Sometimes his lack of flexibility in the food area can be a little challenging. Sometimes SuperHubby manages to sneak something in the mix and he eats it before he realizes it's not on his approved list. However, the one thing he will never, EVER eat is corn. I can't even buy corn when he's with me because he protests so loudly. It's a little embarrassing - like he was abused with an ear of corn as a toddler. But I digress.
So whenever we go out to dinner, Froggie orders "a basket of golden fries." He's precious in how he orders though. He always asks "Do you have a basket of golden fries?" The server, of course, has no clue what he's talking about, so we have to start translating. Actually, I have to start translating - SH can't do that in a crowded restaurant. That would be like me standing up in front of a group of people and sharing my deepest, innermost feelings.
Notice all the foods on the approved list are carbs. We're going to have to get this kid active or we'll have a 600 pound, hot dog bun eating teenager on our hands. And at that point, friends, it stops being cute.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Encyclopedia FrogBoy
Most days, it starts in the car on the way to school. Before 7:00 a.m. Today was no exception.
This morning, it was just me and FrogBoy. We had plenty of time in the 3 minutes it takes to get to school to have a very confusing (for me) conversation.
It started with FrogBoy telling me all about different animals. He loves science - nature, planets, weather - you name it, if it's science, he's all over it. And, being autistic, and frankly just a little annoying at times, he has to repeat every tidbit he knows about a particular subject every time he brings it up.
For example: "Blah, blah, blah...Pluto...which was the smallest planet, but it's not a planet anymore, it's a star. And then there's planet X...blah, blah, blah." It's like this with anything he has any sort of knowledge about. And he reads A LOT.
This morning, he really reminded me of that kid in Jerry Maguire - when he says "Did you know the human head weighs 8 pounds?"
BEFORE 7 a.m., friends, I got: "Have you ever heard of a melon jellyfish?" (I hadn't) "We'll, they're really cool. They're jellyfish that look like melons." (I kinda figured)
Then..."What kind of animal are you interested in knowing more about?" (frankly, at 7 a.m., none) "How about a pygmy rhino?"
"Well, honey, I don't know what a pygmy rhino is. I'm sure it's nice though."
"Oh, you'd love it. It's a rhino, but smaller, and it has a big horn and blah, blah, blah..."
I know, I should have paid more attention. But seriously, this is the kid who plays regular, adult Jeapordy every night, and ALWAYS gets questions right. A bunch of them. And not the stupid "crossword Q" questions. (Those are the ones I get) No, he gets "Polynesian Wars" and "Senators" and "Pollination" and other such nonsense. It's hard to keep up sometimes. He has a great memory for concrete, rote memorization like science and spelling and social studies. Things like math, where he has to make conclusions, are not so good.
Meanwhile, we get schooled daily in the things that interest him (and we're learning some interesting things in the process!), and we get to hear word-for-word movie and TV scripts (an amazing characteristic a lot of autistic kids have called echolalia - which basically means they echo what they've heard in the past - sometimes out of context, sometimes in context - which makes it very difficult to know if they mean it or are just mimicking something they heard Superman say).
All that said - it's like one of my favorite tees:
AUTISM - NEVER A DULL MOMENT!
Most days, it starts in the car on the way to school. Before 7:00 a.m. Today was no exception.
This morning, it was just me and FrogBoy. We had plenty of time in the 3 minutes it takes to get to school to have a very confusing (for me) conversation.
It started with FrogBoy telling me all about different animals. He loves science - nature, planets, weather - you name it, if it's science, he's all over it. And, being autistic, and frankly just a little annoying at times, he has to repeat every tidbit he knows about a particular subject every time he brings it up.
For example: "Blah, blah, blah...Pluto...which was the smallest planet, but it's not a planet anymore, it's a star. And then there's planet X...blah, blah, blah." It's like this with anything he has any sort of knowledge about. And he reads A LOT.
This morning, he really reminded me of that kid in Jerry Maguire - when he says "Did you know the human head weighs 8 pounds?"
BEFORE 7 a.m., friends, I got: "Have you ever heard of a melon jellyfish?" (I hadn't) "We'll, they're really cool. They're jellyfish that look like melons." (I kinda figured)
Then..."What kind of animal are you interested in knowing more about?" (frankly, at 7 a.m., none) "How about a pygmy rhino?"
"Well, honey, I don't know what a pygmy rhino is. I'm sure it's nice though."
"Oh, you'd love it. It's a rhino, but smaller, and it has a big horn and blah, blah, blah..."
I know, I should have paid more attention. But seriously, this is the kid who plays regular, adult Jeapordy every night, and ALWAYS gets questions right. A bunch of them. And not the stupid "crossword Q" questions. (Those are the ones I get) No, he gets "Polynesian Wars" and "Senators" and "Pollination" and other such nonsense. It's hard to keep up sometimes. He has a great memory for concrete, rote memorization like science and spelling and social studies. Things like math, where he has to make conclusions, are not so good.
Meanwhile, we get schooled daily in the things that interest him (and we're learning some interesting things in the process!), and we get to hear word-for-word movie and TV scripts (an amazing characteristic a lot of autistic kids have called echolalia - which basically means they echo what they've heard in the past - sometimes out of context, sometimes in context - which makes it very difficult to know if they mean it or are just mimicking something they heard Superman say).
All that said - it's like one of my favorite tees:
AUTISM - NEVER A DULL MOMENT!
Monday, April 07, 2008
Musical Michael
I love music. Sadly, I'm not a very good singer, but I love to sing anyway. I have apparently passed this trait on to both my children (the love of music AND the lack of talent).
Right now, FrogBoy's favorite song is "I'm Too Sexy" by Right Said Fred. Indeed. He saw the video on VH-1's Top 100 1-Hit Wonders - and thought it was hilarious. That's all it took.
So now he sings this song constantly. It's more for the reaction he gets from Spanky than anything else. But he also likes it because he can just insert random things that he's "too sexy" for.
Most mornings, on the way to school, we're hearing some rendition of "I'm Too Sexy," belted out in a very strange, very deep voice..."I'm too sexy for my shirt, to sexy for my bookbag, too sexy for my waffles, too sexy for my underwear..."
It just goes on and on. The more Spanky protests, the longer the song. There's absolutely no rhythm, it makes no sense, but it makes 2/3 of the van laugh so hard we almost pee in our pants. Every single day.
I love music. Sadly, I'm not a very good singer, but I love to sing anyway. I have apparently passed this trait on to both my children (the love of music AND the lack of talent).
Right now, FrogBoy's favorite song is "I'm Too Sexy" by Right Said Fred. Indeed. He saw the video on VH-1's Top 100 1-Hit Wonders - and thought it was hilarious. That's all it took.
So now he sings this song constantly. It's more for the reaction he gets from Spanky than anything else. But he also likes it because he can just insert random things that he's "too sexy" for.
Most mornings, on the way to school, we're hearing some rendition of "I'm Too Sexy," belted out in a very strange, very deep voice..."I'm too sexy for my shirt, to sexy for my bookbag, too sexy for my waffles, too sexy for my underwear..."
It just goes on and on. The more Spanky protests, the longer the song. There's absolutely no rhythm, it makes no sense, but it makes 2/3 of the van laugh so hard we almost pee in our pants. Every single day.
Saturday, April 05, 2008
Awesome Tees Part 2
Back to the site that offers all the autism-related stuff. I misspoke in my earlier post - they have almost 7000 items for autism alone. Now that's what I call hitting a market.
Anyway, one that I really like is:
If you've met one autistic child, you've met one autistic child.
Man, that's the truth. Autism is such a strange disorder. It's classified by certain behaviors. But not everyone has all the behaviors, and certainly not in the same combination. So while FrogBoy is autistic, he's a very sweet, lovable child, which is totally off-kilter for most kids with autism. Most of them don't want to be touched at all; meanwhile, he'll crawl right up in your lap to snuggle. A lot of them don't talk; at times we can't get Froggie to stop.
Like the saying goes: You are 100%, totally unique. Just like everyone else.
Back to the site that offers all the autism-related stuff. I misspoke in my earlier post - they have almost 7000 items for autism alone. Now that's what I call hitting a market.
Anyway, one that I really like is:
If you've met one autistic child, you've met one autistic child.
Man, that's the truth. Autism is such a strange disorder. It's classified by certain behaviors. But not everyone has all the behaviors, and certainly not in the same combination. So while FrogBoy is autistic, he's a very sweet, lovable child, which is totally off-kilter for most kids with autism. Most of them don't want to be touched at all; meanwhile, he'll crawl right up in your lap to snuggle. A lot of them don't talk; at times we can't get Froggie to stop.
Like the saying goes: You are 100%, totally unique. Just like everyone else.
Friday, April 04, 2008
Personality Plus
NEWSFLASH: FrogBoy is autistic. He has autism. That said, let's move on to my point.
Being autistic is NOT who FrogBoy is. It does not define him. Frankly, he doesn't even realize he has the disorder.
FrogBoy is also a very sweet, loving child. He's frequently quite funny. He can build amazing things with Legos and can put together puzzles with thousands of pieces in a snap. He is a spelling whiz (98 average) and reads grade levels above the rest of his class. He stinks at math.
There are times when I think there's a little Mini Me running around; he mimics my words and phrases and mannerisms in a way that surprises even me.
He loves Easy Mac. Not good mac and cheese, Easy Mac. He's a morning person, and the minute he wakes up, he wants breakfast. The minute he has breakfast, he wants dessert. Almost 10 years and we still haven't convinced him you don't get dessert after breakfast.
He likes to burp and he thinks farts are funny. He knows exactly which buttons to push to make Spanky go crazy, and he delights in pushing them frequently. He's just a little boy.
So yes, FrogBoy is autistic. But he's so much more than that. His autism doesn't define him, and it shouldn't limit him. Unfortunately, so many people hear "autism" and think "Rain Man." People don't realize that a child with autism can be as high-functioning as FrogBoy is. When he DOES act out, they think he's just being a brat. When he performs poorly in school, it's "okay" because "Maybe he didn't get it." Well - maybe he didn't get it - but maybe it's just because ancient history isn't his thing.
In our house, we don't allow the autism excuse. It may actually factor in to our decisions, but he doesn't know that, and he won't. I just wish more people would see the child and not the label that has been smacked on him.
He's a great kid. End of story.
NEWSFLASH: FrogBoy is autistic. He has autism. That said, let's move on to my point.
Being autistic is NOT who FrogBoy is. It does not define him. Frankly, he doesn't even realize he has the disorder.
FrogBoy is also a very sweet, loving child. He's frequently quite funny. He can build amazing things with Legos and can put together puzzles with thousands of pieces in a snap. He is a spelling whiz (98 average) and reads grade levels above the rest of his class. He stinks at math.
There are times when I think there's a little Mini Me running around; he mimics my words and phrases and mannerisms in a way that surprises even me.
He loves Easy Mac. Not good mac and cheese, Easy Mac. He's a morning person, and the minute he wakes up, he wants breakfast. The minute he has breakfast, he wants dessert. Almost 10 years and we still haven't convinced him you don't get dessert after breakfast.
He likes to burp and he thinks farts are funny. He knows exactly which buttons to push to make Spanky go crazy, and he delights in pushing them frequently. He's just a little boy.
So yes, FrogBoy is autistic. But he's so much more than that. His autism doesn't define him, and it shouldn't limit him. Unfortunately, so many people hear "autism" and think "Rain Man." People don't realize that a child with autism can be as high-functioning as FrogBoy is. When he DOES act out, they think he's just being a brat. When he performs poorly in school, it's "okay" because "Maybe he didn't get it." Well - maybe he didn't get it - but maybe it's just because ancient history isn't his thing.
In our house, we don't allow the autism excuse. It may actually factor in to our decisions, but he doesn't know that, and he won't. I just wish more people would see the child and not the label that has been smacked on him.
He's a great kid. End of story.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Dancing King
One of the quirky characteristics of people with autism is their tendency to engage in repetitive behaviors. Think of Rain Man rocking back and forth. That's a common one. And yes, every night at our house, we have a certain time set aside for FrogBoy to enjoy "WHEEL! OF! FORTUNE!" and "This Is...JEOPARDY!" Same deal, every night, without fail. Do it once and it's a routine.
All that to say, FrogBoy loves to spin. He's a spinner. He also chews on his shirts. We spend a lot of money on clothes for the kid because he eats his shirts. These behaviors give him sensory feedback that you and I don't need. But FrogBoy needs it. So he chews. And he spins.
FrogBoy also can't stand to have clothes on. We're not sure if they just irritate him (another sensory issue) or if he just likes being naked, but the minute he walks in the door from school, he strips down to his underwear and is as happy as can be. If we tell him we're going somewhere or someone's coming over, he's fine to stay in his clothes, but if we don't prevent the stripping, off they come, the minute he gets home.
We've also always had issues with FrogBoy getting dressed in the morning. Apparently, it is ALWAYS too cold for him to get dressed - even in the middle of the summer. So it is ALWAYS a big fat hairy deal.
However, several years ago, we got a real treat. When FrogBoy would change his clothes, he would remove the articles one-by-one and spin around and dance and swing the clothing above his head, male-stripper style. He was our own little Chippendales dancer. He would dance until he was tired and then release the clothes mid-spin. We would find underwear behind the bookshelves and hanging off lamps. It was quite enjoyable.
Sadly, the days of the dance party have gone by the wayside. FrogBoy still strips, and he still dances, he just doesn't combine the two anymore.
One of the quirky characteristics of people with autism is their tendency to engage in repetitive behaviors. Think of Rain Man rocking back and forth. That's a common one. And yes, every night at our house, we have a certain time set aside for FrogBoy to enjoy "WHEEL! OF! FORTUNE!" and "This Is...JEOPARDY!" Same deal, every night, without fail. Do it once and it's a routine.
All that to say, FrogBoy loves to spin. He's a spinner. He also chews on his shirts. We spend a lot of money on clothes for the kid because he eats his shirts. These behaviors give him sensory feedback that you and I don't need. But FrogBoy needs it. So he chews. And he spins.
FrogBoy also can't stand to have clothes on. We're not sure if they just irritate him (another sensory issue) or if he just likes being naked, but the minute he walks in the door from school, he strips down to his underwear and is as happy as can be. If we tell him we're going somewhere or someone's coming over, he's fine to stay in his clothes, but if we don't prevent the stripping, off they come, the minute he gets home.
We've also always had issues with FrogBoy getting dressed in the morning. Apparently, it is ALWAYS too cold for him to get dressed - even in the middle of the summer. So it is ALWAYS a big fat hairy deal.
However, several years ago, we got a real treat. When FrogBoy would change his clothes, he would remove the articles one-by-one and spin around and dance and swing the clothing above his head, male-stripper style. He was our own little Chippendales dancer. He would dance until he was tired and then release the clothes mid-spin. We would find underwear behind the bookshelves and hanging off lamps. It was quite enjoyable.
Sadly, the days of the dance party have gone by the wayside. FrogBoy still strips, and he still dances, he just doesn't combine the two anymore.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Awesome Tee - Part 1
Several months ago, I read an article about a family that has 6 autistic kids. Actually, that's a technicality - they have 6 kids on the spectrum. Two have Asperger's and one has PDD-NOS...but 2 are severely autistic and non-verbal, so if they want to simplify things and say they have 6 autistic kids, I'm not going to argue.
Anyway, I was reading this article and noticed in one of the pictures that one of the non-verbal kids had this great tee-shirt. It said:
I'M AUTISTIC. WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM??
That really tickled me. Sometimes we just have to laugh at the issue at hand - that's the only thing we can do. So I began frantically searching the internet for other awesomely inspiring tees with autistic messages.
I found a site that carries over 3000 autism-related products. Another one I like is:
AUTISM...NEVER A DULL MOMENT.
I'll share more throughout the month. Count on things to get snarkier as the days go by.
Several months ago, I read an article about a family that has 6 autistic kids. Actually, that's a technicality - they have 6 kids on the spectrum. Two have Asperger's and one has PDD-NOS...but 2 are severely autistic and non-verbal, so if they want to simplify things and say they have 6 autistic kids, I'm not going to argue.
Anyway, I was reading this article and noticed in one of the pictures that one of the non-verbal kids had this great tee-shirt. It said:
I'M AUTISTIC. WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM??
That really tickled me. Sometimes we just have to laugh at the issue at hand - that's the only thing we can do. So I began frantically searching the internet for other awesomely inspiring tees with autistic messages.
I found a site that carries over 3000 autism-related products. Another one I like is:
AUTISM...NEVER A DULL MOMENT.
I'll share more throughout the month. Count on things to get snarkier as the days go by.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
On My Soapbox
Okay, so today is April 1. The first day of Autism Awareness Month. Lucky for you, it's a short month. My intent this month is to post at least one tidbit every day about this uninvited, permanent guest in our lives.
Today, I'll start with something I find interesting. Seems this very intelligent, yet autistic, guy in Dublin, by the name of Michael Fitzgerald (no kidding) did some research to find out about other very intelligent, autistic folks. Here's a short list of historical figures who seemingly were on the spectrum:
Hans Christian Anderson
Lewis Carroll
Albert Einstein (sometimes FrogBoy has the same hair, so I can see this connection)
Thomas Jefferson
Michaelangelo
Mozart
Sir Isaac Newton
George Orwell
Andy Warhol
...and several serial killers...but we're not going to count them.
All that to say, my child is a genius, he just processes things differently than other kids, and if you don't like it, he doesn't care. For that matter, neither do I. He's mine, he's perfect, and I love him.
Happy 1st day of Autism Awareness Month!
Be sure to tune in to CNN tomorrow for their coverage of World Autism Awareness Day.
Okay, so today is April 1. The first day of Autism Awareness Month. Lucky for you, it's a short month. My intent this month is to post at least one tidbit every day about this uninvited, permanent guest in our lives.
Today, I'll start with something I find interesting. Seems this very intelligent, yet autistic, guy in Dublin, by the name of Michael Fitzgerald (no kidding) did some research to find out about other very intelligent, autistic folks. Here's a short list of historical figures who seemingly were on the spectrum:
Hans Christian Anderson
Lewis Carroll
Albert Einstein (sometimes FrogBoy has the same hair, so I can see this connection)
Thomas Jefferson
Michaelangelo
Mozart
Sir Isaac Newton
George Orwell
Andy Warhol
...and several serial killers...but we're not going to count them.
All that to say, my child is a genius, he just processes things differently than other kids, and if you don't like it, he doesn't care. For that matter, neither do I. He's mine, he's perfect, and I love him.
Happy 1st day of Autism Awareness Month!
Be sure to tune in to CNN tomorrow for their coverage of World Autism Awareness Day.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Autistic Conversations
I wanted to come up with something clever to call this post...but I just couldn't. Conversations is our house really speak for themselves.
This morning, I was watching the news and, since April is Autism Awareness Month, and I guess everyone's gearing up for it, they were having competing autism stories on all the stations. I was interested in one and was trying to listen, when young FrogBoy joined me in the living room. After reading the caption at the bottom of the TV screen, he promptly asked, "Mommy, what's autism?"
Oh boy. I guess I knew the day would come, I just wasn't prepared. Especially at 8 a.m. I tossed up a quick prayer and started with, "Autism is a neurological disorder..."
Before I could finish my sentence, my precious child said, "Oh, okay."
Clearly he doesn't have an understanding of the term "neurological," nor does he care. He probably recognized the tone in my voice and thought, "Crud, we're going to be here awhile if I don't cut her off fast." Whatever the reason, I was spared the explanation for another day.
A few days ago, though, I had the best conversation with the FrogMan that I can remember.
FrogBoy: "Look, Mommy, this guy lost his arm."
Me: "Oh my. He doesn't have a face either. Have you been chewing on him?"
(This is something he does frequently. It's called - brilliantly - mouthing. In my day, that meant something else entirely - and you got popped if you did it. But I digress.)
FrogBoy: "Yeah. I get hungry."
(I love this kid.)
Me: "Let's not eat him. He's plastic. That's not good."
FrogBoy: "But he tastes good."
Me: "No. You need to not eat plastic. Its bad for you. Throw him away."
FrogBoy: "Can I flush him?"
Me: "No. Put him in the trash."
FrogBoy: "Aw man."
It is this type of wonderful conversation that makes my life so enjoyable. It's the ones we DON'T have that concern me.
I wanted to come up with something clever to call this post...but I just couldn't. Conversations is our house really speak for themselves.
This morning, I was watching the news and, since April is Autism Awareness Month, and I guess everyone's gearing up for it, they were having competing autism stories on all the stations. I was interested in one and was trying to listen, when young FrogBoy joined me in the living room. After reading the caption at the bottom of the TV screen, he promptly asked, "Mommy, what's autism?"
Oh boy. I guess I knew the day would come, I just wasn't prepared. Especially at 8 a.m. I tossed up a quick prayer and started with, "Autism is a neurological disorder..."
Before I could finish my sentence, my precious child said, "Oh, okay."
Clearly he doesn't have an understanding of the term "neurological," nor does he care. He probably recognized the tone in my voice and thought, "Crud, we're going to be here awhile if I don't cut her off fast." Whatever the reason, I was spared the explanation for another day.
A few days ago, though, I had the best conversation with the FrogMan that I can remember.
FrogBoy: "Look, Mommy, this guy lost his arm."
Me: "Oh my. He doesn't have a face either. Have you been chewing on him?"
(This is something he does frequently. It's called - brilliantly - mouthing. In my day, that meant something else entirely - and you got popped if you did it. But I digress.)
FrogBoy: "Yeah. I get hungry."
(I love this kid.)
Me: "Let's not eat him. He's plastic. That's not good."
FrogBoy: "But he tastes good."
Me: "No. You need to not eat plastic. Its bad for you. Throw him away."
FrogBoy: "Can I flush him?"
Me: "No. Put him in the trash."
FrogBoy: "Aw man."
It is this type of wonderful conversation that makes my life so enjoyable. It's the ones we DON'T have that concern me.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Seriously???
Contrary to popular belief, everything that happens in the Fitzgerald household is not abnormal and totally bizarre. It just feels like it sometimes.
At the end of February, I surprised SuperHubby with a long weekend in Asheville to celebrate his 40th birthday. Go me. The night before we left, after he loaded the washer with all his clothes that he planned to pack, our dryer died. We got it the first Christmas we were married, so it was almost 16 years old...and yet it picked this most inopportune time to die. We've been struggling with drying clothes at random places ever since.
So Friday SH went to Lowe's and bought a new dryer. I had seen a commercial where they would deliver the new one and haul off the old one...FREE. Since "free" is my love language, we decided to go that route. Upon arrival in dryer department at Lowe's, SH discovered that "free" means "if you purchase a dryer that costs more than $397." Seriously? Not $400?? Nope, $397. He bought the $398 model and scheduled the next-day delivery for Monday (keep up - we had to work Saturday and Sunday).
Meanwhile, I had a buttload of errands to run on Saturday, including picking up my dad to bring to church with us. This was an amazing thing that I certainly wasn't going to let pass by. The van had been having the hiccups for about a week but I knew she'd get me to West Ashley (for my dad) and then later the same day to Ravenel (to drop the boys at my aunt's, where they were spending the night so they could be with the family for Easter). While I was running errands, she decided NOT SO MUCH. Seriously?? This is the time we're going to die? I don't think so. I promptly rented a car.
I called Buget Car Rental. When the lovely-accnted woman answered the phone, I asked her where she was located. Her reply? "Right now? The West Coast." SERIOUSLY???? I had to explain to her that what I REALLY needed to know was where to pick up the car I was renting. WOW. I thought stupid stuff like that happened only in forwarded emails.
We all squeezed into SH's car and made a mad dash for the airport before SH had to leave for work. They upgraded me to an SUV, which was super cool. It had to be returned today. At the same time the dryer was being delivered. And I couldn't find anyone to drop me and the car off. So on the one day when we don't have kids, we're exhausted, and we could - in theory - sleep late, we were on the road at 8:15 to take the car back.
Meanwhile, the Lowe's guys were 2 hours late (who didn't see that coming?). I didn't care. I've never been so excited about doing laundry in all my life. Of course, every time we turn the dryer on, it throws the breaker in our laundry room. The only thing worse than not having a dryer is having a dryer that sits there and taunts you.
My weekend wrap-up? I don't have a car, my dryer doesn't work, my children are on spring break, one of them acts like he's getting a cold, and my medical insurance still owes me $700+ in reimbursements (sorry - that one's never going to NOT be a topic on my blog!). The good news? My dad went to church with me, we had 34 services at Seacoast - over 14000 people! - and even though I worked all day Sunday, I can't imagine anywhere I would have rather been.
Contrary to popular belief, everything that happens in the Fitzgerald household is not abnormal and totally bizarre. It just feels like it sometimes.
At the end of February, I surprised SuperHubby with a long weekend in Asheville to celebrate his 40th birthday. Go me. The night before we left, after he loaded the washer with all his clothes that he planned to pack, our dryer died. We got it the first Christmas we were married, so it was almost 16 years old...and yet it picked this most inopportune time to die. We've been struggling with drying clothes at random places ever since.
So Friday SH went to Lowe's and bought a new dryer. I had seen a commercial where they would deliver the new one and haul off the old one...FREE. Since "free" is my love language, we decided to go that route. Upon arrival in dryer department at Lowe's, SH discovered that "free" means "if you purchase a dryer that costs more than $397." Seriously? Not $400?? Nope, $397. He bought the $398 model and scheduled the next-day delivery for Monday (keep up - we had to work Saturday and Sunday).
Meanwhile, I had a buttload of errands to run on Saturday, including picking up my dad to bring to church with us. This was an amazing thing that I certainly wasn't going to let pass by. The van had been having the hiccups for about a week but I knew she'd get me to West Ashley (for my dad) and then later the same day to Ravenel (to drop the boys at my aunt's, where they were spending the night so they could be with the family for Easter). While I was running errands, she decided NOT SO MUCH. Seriously?? This is the time we're going to die? I don't think so. I promptly rented a car.
I called Buget Car Rental. When the lovely-accnted woman answered the phone, I asked her where she was located. Her reply? "Right now? The West Coast." SERIOUSLY???? I had to explain to her that what I REALLY needed to know was where to pick up the car I was renting. WOW. I thought stupid stuff like that happened only in forwarded emails.
We all squeezed into SH's car and made a mad dash for the airport before SH had to leave for work. They upgraded me to an SUV, which was super cool. It had to be returned today. At the same time the dryer was being delivered. And I couldn't find anyone to drop me and the car off. So on the one day when we don't have kids, we're exhausted, and we could - in theory - sleep late, we were on the road at 8:15 to take the car back.
Meanwhile, the Lowe's guys were 2 hours late (who didn't see that coming?). I didn't care. I've never been so excited about doing laundry in all my life. Of course, every time we turn the dryer on, it throws the breaker in our laundry room. The only thing worse than not having a dryer is having a dryer that sits there and taunts you.
My weekend wrap-up? I don't have a car, my dryer doesn't work, my children are on spring break, one of them acts like he's getting a cold, and my medical insurance still owes me $700+ in reimbursements (sorry - that one's never going to NOT be a topic on my blog!). The good news? My dad went to church with me, we had 34 services at Seacoast - over 14000 people! - and even though I worked all day Sunday, I can't imagine anywhere I would have rather been.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Not the Sharpest Hook in the Tackle Box
Three weeks ago today, I lost my mind. I felt compelled to get FrogBoy a fish. I wanted him to learn a little responsibility, and thought a pet would be fun. We are a dog family, but since the pet fee at our apartment is $350, and SuperHubby is a dog snob and will only have purebred dogs, and I refuse to spend (as if I could) $1000 on a dog...well, a fish seemed the way to go.
Not wanting to leave anyone out, I offered to get Spanky a fish as well. Seemed like a good idea at the time. We made a quick visit to our local Petsmart and walked away with 2 fish, 2 fishbowls, and a variety of items to care for our new housemates. All told I spent less than $50, which I felt was a pretty good investment. Even if they died, the fish were only $2.99 each.
One thing I didn't factor in was that we were leaving that weekend - for the whole weekend. That meant I had to have a fish-sitter. How embarrassing is that? So I asked the Smurf to come over and feed the fish. I told her it wasn't a big deal...they are only supposed to get 2 pellets a day...so if she just came once she could pop in 2 pellets and that would take care of the whole weekend (we fed them before we left).
Imagine my surprise when we got home and both fishbowls were covered with pellets. Apparently she thought I said "2 pinches of pellets." But we got over that hurdle.
One of the reasons I chose this particular brand of fish - betta fish - is that they are hard to kill and cheap to replace. However, they fight each other - their other name is Japanese Fighting Fish - which explains the "2 of everything" thing.
Meanwhile, the boys had to name their fish. Spanky chose the ever popular "The Punisher" for his. FrogBoy went with "Lego." Who didn't see that coming?
Things were going really well until Saturday before church. As is my usual daily comment, I walked over to The Punisher's bowl and said, "Spanky, your fish is dead." Only this time I wasn't kidding.
Poor Spanky. He comes over to the bowl and says, "No Mommy, you just have to tap it and he'll move." He didn't.
And at that point I realized something. The stupid fish had drowned. Yes, only in our house could a fish drown. But he did. His little fish head was stuck in the rocks on the bottom of the bowl. I'm pretty sure he was trying for a piece of food that got lodged down there. But he's definitely dead.
We flushed him. Spanky scooped him out and tossed him in the toilet like a pro. Then he declared that he was done with pets because they all die, and he doesn't want to talk about it anymore.
One down, one to go.
Three weeks ago today, I lost my mind. I felt compelled to get FrogBoy a fish. I wanted him to learn a little responsibility, and thought a pet would be fun. We are a dog family, but since the pet fee at our apartment is $350, and SuperHubby is a dog snob and will only have purebred dogs, and I refuse to spend (as if I could) $1000 on a dog...well, a fish seemed the way to go.
Not wanting to leave anyone out, I offered to get Spanky a fish as well. Seemed like a good idea at the time. We made a quick visit to our local Petsmart and walked away with 2 fish, 2 fishbowls, and a variety of items to care for our new housemates. All told I spent less than $50, which I felt was a pretty good investment. Even if they died, the fish were only $2.99 each.
One thing I didn't factor in was that we were leaving that weekend - for the whole weekend. That meant I had to have a fish-sitter. How embarrassing is that? So I asked the Smurf to come over and feed the fish. I told her it wasn't a big deal...they are only supposed to get 2 pellets a day...so if she just came once she could pop in 2 pellets and that would take care of the whole weekend (we fed them before we left).
Imagine my surprise when we got home and both fishbowls were covered with pellets. Apparently she thought I said "2 pinches of pellets." But we got over that hurdle.
One of the reasons I chose this particular brand of fish - betta fish - is that they are hard to kill and cheap to replace. However, they fight each other - their other name is Japanese Fighting Fish - which explains the "2 of everything" thing.
Meanwhile, the boys had to name their fish. Spanky chose the ever popular "The Punisher" for his. FrogBoy went with "Lego." Who didn't see that coming?
Things were going really well until Saturday before church. As is my usual daily comment, I walked over to The Punisher's bowl and said, "Spanky, your fish is dead." Only this time I wasn't kidding.
Poor Spanky. He comes over to the bowl and says, "No Mommy, you just have to tap it and he'll move." He didn't.
And at that point I realized something. The stupid fish had drowned. Yes, only in our house could a fish drown. But he did. His little fish head was stuck in the rocks on the bottom of the bowl. I'm pretty sure he was trying for a piece of food that got lodged down there. But he's definitely dead.
We flushed him. Spanky scooped him out and tossed him in the toilet like a pro. Then he declared that he was done with pets because they all die, and he doesn't want to talk about it anymore.
One down, one to go.
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