Don't make me feed him goldfish crackers and unleash him on you.

We've lived here for three years now. That means a lot of things, mostly that G and I are dying to move, but also that the kids are due for eligibility reevaluations at their schools. I wasn't on the ball with Motormouth's school, and let them do the re-eval, and they are wanting to change his eligibility from ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorders) to some stupid 'dual' eligibility (because they don't argue that he has Autism, just not enough). That's another story, though, and I won't bore you with it. I called Monkey's school and told his teacher that I wanted to decline the eligibility re-evaluation (they have to be done every three years to determine placement in Special Education, UNLESS the school and the parents agree that there is no need. I can't imagine them deciding that Monkey doesn't have Autism, so I don't want to give them the chance). She called me back after a week and said that it was okay, so I'm assuming that means the school doesn't question his eligibility either, thank God. She then proceeded to tell me that they would still have to do 'some' testing and observations with him to satisfy the MET requirements, yada yada yada. At this point I'm a little suspicious of everything the district is saying, so interrupt her with the following:

Me: I guess I'm okay with you doing what you need to in order to 'check the box' on the paperwork, but I will need you to inform me in advance what days the testing and observations will be done.

Teacher: oh...sure...I guess we can do that, how much notice are you needing?

Me: at least the day before. I feel that if you are going to be observing and testing him, then you should be getting a true look at Monkey without the supports he has in place for his Autism. The main support piece that we provide at home for him is keeping him on his strict GF/CF diet, which as you know, helps him control his behavior, sit still and focus, among other things- and I feel that we would need to take him off his diet for you to really get a feel for what Monkey's special needs REALLY are....you are probably going to want to get everything done in one day. He's going to be a complete mess (shrieking, flailing, hysterical mess) and so I really don't want to subject him to feeling so out of control longer than absolutely necessary. Okay?

Teacher: um...you know....let me talk to the Social Worker. She knows Monkey pretty well, maybe we don't have to do all that....let me find out what we REALLY need to have for this before we jump into testing...*nervous laugh*.

Me: why don't you do that and get back to me.

Holly Robinson Peete, you should know better

I'm home watching daytime television, which is something I don't normally get to do. I'm watching this new talk show called "The Talk" which from what I can tell is a knock off of the View. I'm interested because it has Holly Robinson Peete on it, who is the mom of a son with Autism, and she is doing this segment about a mom with three boys with Autism. It shows her three sons and they talk about her day to day life and how difficult it is for her sons. Then they show that she is there in the studio, with one of the boys on the spectrum, and this other teenage boy. Turns out this is the older brother, whom was not mentioned at all during the segment. That's not all, but they go on to say that there is another older brother who is also not on the spectrum. Instead of being a mom of three boys with Autism, she is actually a single mom of 5 boys. Okay, I'm with you Holly. Holly then asks the typical teenager how life is for him in this environment, which I thought was nice because the typical kids are generally invisible in a household with special needs siblings. That's when the whole thing comes off the rails. It starts out with the show giving this mom some stuff to help her out, which is what you are expecting to happen. It was all harmless enough, a hospital was going to pay for her kids to get reevaluated, which is an expensive undertaking, so that was cool. A company was going to help her with some financial planning and help her set up a special needs trust...that was cool too. Then Holly starts passing out the iPads. Yes, the iPads are proving to be great for non-verbal kids, and they have really cool specialized Apps for kids with Autism. They might actually help give her non-verbal kids a voice, which is priceless. My problem is that you are throwing those around and everyone is cheering and that poor typical brother gets squat. Then they threw in a shopping spree from Toys R Us differently-abled toy catalog so she can buy whatever she wants for her sons with Autism. Fantastic, I'm sure the other two don't mind getting passed over, AGAIN. Then to top it all off, she then hands the youngest son with Autism a gift basket of toys because 'he likes Nascar'. I just thought it was really thoughtless to shower that mom with gifts for only a few of her children. I'm done complaining now.

The story of why SSG Grumpypants ran to the store himself.

SSG G: Can you run to the store and buy some pancake mix?

Me: I'll just make some.

SSG G: I don't like them from scratch, I like the mix.

Me: you have got to be kidding me. Besides the insult to my cooking, what happened to 'the car repairs were more than we thought, no unnecessary purchases'?

SSG G: Okay, what I really want is a soda, but I didn't think you would go for 'hey I worked all day, could you go get me a pop'?

Me: over not wanting to eat my cooking? yeah, good choice.

SSG G: (turning to our kid's ABA therapist that just entered the room) Hey Kristen, would you go get me a pop?

Kristen: No. (have I mentioned that I love this girl?)

Me: I would have gone and gotten you a pop. Twerp.

Mini-Me

Motormouth: look mom, those people are on TV and famous. I wish we were famous.

Me: I don't.

Motormouth: Really??? Why not?

Me: I wouldn't want everyone to know me and where I live, I guess.

Motormouth: But you could make.....One Thousand Dolllars! You don't want a thousand dollars??

Me: I'll pass, Dr. Evil.

What just happened? No really. Explain it to me.

I just watched my husband lay on the floor in the hall outside my son's bedroom door and pass his pajamas back and forth under the door while my son screamed "No pajamas!" followed by "Gimme back my jamas!!" for about 40 minutes. The fact that we really didn't care if he wore pajamas or slept in his jeans was lost on him. He continued to yell that he didn't want to wear pajamas nonstop until he abruptly announced mid-yell that he needed to go to the bathroom. I open his bedroom door to let him out and found him standing at the door, wearing the pajamas (that he is NOT wearing, Mommy!!) and holding all his dirty clothes. He marches to the bathroom, throws his clothes in the hamper, looks at me with red-rimmed puffy eyes and asks for help brushing his teeth.

The Dark Side

I made the mistake of nodding off at my inlaws. I was brought back to reality by hearing Monkey shrieking hysterically in the next room, then G walking through the room with a crying, flailing Monkey in full attack mode. G was tagging out. Which means that I am up. Sort of, because I'm still not quite awake enough to really understand what is going on. Not that it matters. As always, it doesn't matter how we got here, at this point it only matters how we get back. I get Monkey into the spare room and manage to get all of his limbs under control. Sort of. For a second. Wait. A leg got free. How can he bend it like that to kick me? argh. Got it. Whoa there, almost took a head-butt to the chin. That was a rookie mistake. Can't hold his arm like that. Reposition, reposition, reposition. He's screaming that I am hurting him. Am I? Nope...not hanging on too tight anywhere, he can breathe, move a little-Whoops, gave him a little too much room to move and he got away. Start over. Stay calm. stay calm stay calm. Got him. Why are his elbows so pointy???? I can't let you go, even if it breaks my heart to hear you beg me to do just that. I can't. I love you too much. That doesn't even make sense. How can pinning you down as you scream be any kind of love? Even if I'm trying to keep you from getting hurt. Even if I'm doing it as gently as I can. Even if I know deep down that 20 minutes of this is better than 4 hours in the emergency room. This can't be right. I need to get out of here. I can't do this anymore. Mommy needs a time out. Wait Mommy don't go, don't leave me. Don't leave me alone. Clinging to my leg. Let's lay down and take a break. Take a breath. Let's just breathe. Okay. Here we are. Turning it around. Arms and legs a tangled mess. Head on my chest. Shaky, gasping breaths. Calm down, calm down calm down. You can do it. Just breathe, breathe breathe. His heartbeat on my stomach, mine in his ear, they become one and slow down. breathe, breathe breathe. The monster leaves, Monkey returns. He cries. Hopeless tears for things he can't change. Connection so intense, painfully sharp. He rests. He breathes. He calms. He slows. He is still. Then he laughs. Crazy, exhausted giggle. He sits up, looks at me with clear, glassy eyes. "Let's go Mommy, Let's get out of here"

One of the many downsides to the Autistic mind, at least to your brother.

Motormouth and Monkey are out jumping on the trampoline.
Motormouth: You can't see me.
Monkey: Yes I can.
Motormouth: You can't see me. I'm invisible.
Monkey: You're right there.
Motormouth: No, I'm invisible, you can't see me.
Monkey: Yes I can.
Motormouth: You can't get me because you can't see me. I'm invisible.
Motormouth: OW! HEY! You can't see me!
Monkey: I got you.
Motormouth: Hey! You. Can't. See. Me!!!
Monkey: I got you.
Motormouth: Stop. Stop. Ow. Stop.
Monkey: hee hee.

Ah, pretend play. Maybe someday.