What a way to end the day

My day began to be disrupted last night. I was supposed to drive to my sister’s in Lancaster, but the school district’s automated system called to tell me there was a 2-hour delay in the morning. I called my sister and changed the visit to Tuesday.

So at quarter to ten this morning I was awakened by my kids returning home from their dad’s, ready to get on the bus. We were all cheerful and happy. The kids left. Their dad left. I took a shower while Henry played Lego Star Wars on the PS2.

I needed to go to Wal-Mart. I had a flat tire and needed an oil change. I went out to warm up the car–though I couldn’t warm it TOO much, my gas light went on the day before the snow storm. And the battery was dead. There was a massive amount of snow in front of my car, so I was going to have to go wading just to open the hood. I got my dad’s battery charger and an extension cord. I had to run it through my car for it to reach the passenger side. It took a while to get contact, and then three tries for the car to start. My cousin (who lives next door) had come over by this time. We were discussing alleged heinous car battery accidents. He commented on my flat tire and said I should fill it at the gas station rather than drive all the way to Wal-Mart.

Henry was pleasant and willing to cooperate as always (NOT!) when I announce that it was time to leave. He was playing in my cousin’s snowy yard. (And wearing a Hulk sweatshirt rather than a coat.) Finally we left. I kept the car running and put a few gallons in the tank. Then I paid 50 cents for air. Problem: there was no built in air gauge. So I put in “some” air. Then McDonald’s drive-thru for lunch. On to Wal-Mart. I arrived exactly 30 minutes after starting my car. I finished throwing out all trash. My car looked clean and ready for a complimentary vacuuming. I checked the car in and asked them to check the tires.

Then I was off to return two items. I had to walk through the store to get to the front for their stickers. But in doing so I set off the alarms. So, basically, I walked out of the store, set off the alarms, and told the woman that I had returns. She gave me stickers and I got my $48 back. In gift card form, of course. Because I had no receipt. Good thing I’m an honest person.

Just as I was finishing with the returns, the school nurse called and said David threw up half way through lunch. Since my car was getting an oil change, I told her that David could wait or I could ask my dad to leave work and get him. We agreed to see if he could lie down and rest till my car is done.

I got stocking stuffers. I got gel inserts for my new boots. (Which were killing my feet.) I forgot the lasagna. I priced a couple WII games. (I know of our gifts.) Then we checked on the car. Not done. Henry wanted to see the fish. I had intended to get an algae eater. Off to the fish. After 5 minutes of no service, I flagged down a passing worker. She suggested I walk back to the restrooms and electronics and ask someone there to call for help. (Did I mention my feet were killing me?) I opted for the shorter walk back to automotive. The woman there was shocked at the response of the other Wal-Mart worker. Shocked? Really? Were you? Anyway, the woman at automotive walked to other workers, and asked them for help for me. The fishing license guy sold me my fish.

Then we finally got our van. Paid. And headed to the school. I called the school nurse and told her I was on my way.

David looked okay. A little sleepy.

I wanted to see my grandparents. I needed to return my grandmother’s mop (I borrowed it to clean grape jelly off my ceiling) and pick up our Lego Star Wars WII game. But most importantly, I miss them. I’ve only seen them twice since they returned from Florida.

We had only an hour to visit, but worth it. We had a nice visit. We munched a few cookies all gooey from the oven. And then I had to leave to get the kids off the bus. I left a little late, but I wasn’t worried. I decided to call my dad and ask him to get the kids. And worst case scenario, the kids would be taken to the High School office to wait for me.

I called Scott or Scott called me. I don’t remember. We were cut off eventually. Back roads. And about 5 minutes later, I accidentally hit the snow at the edge of the lane, lost control , over corrected, braked, and hit a tree.

Seriously.

I didn’t think it was too bad. I knew I hit  something. I was on a bad spot on the road. I couldn’t focus. I needed to stop. To assess. Then I realized David was crying. I glanced over my right shoulder and noticed the car wasn’t right. I stopped. I traveled about 20 feet past the tree I’d hit.

David and Henry both said they were okay. I realized why the car seemed weird. The side and back windows were gone. Then I noticed that my tire was back by the tree I’d hit. It was still on the wheel.

There was suddenly a lot of traffic on that little road. Most people left when they saw me on a phone. I called Dad first.

“Hi, Dad. I need you to get the kids off the bus, I was just in a car accident. We’re all okay.”

Then AAA. While I was on with them, I gave David the other cell phone, highlighted my grandmother’s number and told him, “Call Grandmom and Grandpop. Tell them we were in an accident, and we’re all okay. We’re on Hill Rd.” My grandparents are so impressed with him and how well he handled that call.

Eventually a dump truck driver and a pick-up truck stopped and insisted on staying. The dump truck driver offered to let the kids sit in his cab. Since it had windows, it was considerably warmer than my van. It was so nice of him.
When the truck driver called to confirm, he informed me that I NEED to call the cops. So, I got to dial 911. Fun.

My grandfather came. He picked up the kids and some of the things from my van. (My food for Chicago that was loaded in the back.) Soon Scott arrived.

Then the cops and then the tow truck. Broken rear axle meant flat bed truck. In trying to get my insurance and registration cards, I realized that the front passenger door no longer opened, even though it did not appear to be damaged. Everywhere I looked, it was just so bad. The tow truck driver thinks my van is totaled. Imagine totaling a car while driving 35 miles an hour.

I didn’t cry over my broken van, but I did cry over the affect it would have on our travel plans to see my mom in Chicago.

Back home, Dad sprung for pizza. Scott picked it up. We actually had a nice dinner. Scott and I got to talk like we haven’t in forever. We discussed my car future. Our income tax check. My child support. And our divorce. We both agreed that there’s no need for a lawyer as long as we keep agreeing on everything.

How can such a horrible day from start to finish have such happy times in between? I was in such a sunny mood today. And I was glad Scott was around to help in crisis.

Conferences

We had school conferences yesterday. First was David’s. He’s doing very well. His reading is a little behind, but mostly because he needs to really learn the -ed and -ing endings. He is having a few behavioral issues right now. We’re seeing it at home too. The only thing I can think of is growth spurt. He always reverts to worse behaviors during growth spurt time. Then she briefly touched on the fact that this is David’s 3rd and final year in her class. Where does time go?

Daniel’s conference was next. I was concerned about this one. I wasn’t sure whether his teacher cared that he was repeating kindergarten and already knew everything on the homework sheets. Turns out Daniel is one of five who are repeating. She is very conscious of making everything new and interesting for them. She also has time for them to be challenged in class. They are split by ability and they do work according to skill. Daniel takes great pride in being a role model for the students that can’t do as much. She loves having him in class.

And finally I had Celia’s conference. This was the first time I got to meet her teacher. I went in not thinking the best of her, and left thinking she seems nice. Gee, could it be influenced by the fact that she kept raving over Celia’s beauty and her hair? Then she told me how wonderful the book was that Celia read to the class. (Celia took in The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane and asked if the class could read it. The teacher allowed Celia to read it to the class.) She said the class was quieter while Celia read than while she (the teacher) reads. She commented on Celia’s grades leveling out. Thinking that Celia just needed to settle in. I confessed that I put Celia back on Strattera (her ADD med) since her class work was suffering. And you should see her report card! All A’s with one B in science. All her behavioral marks are O’s. Previous years her report cards would have a good mix of O’s, S’s and N’s. She always had difficulties finishing work in the time allotted and difficulties working with others. Now the teacher has to assign partners because there are about six girls who always want to be paired with Celia. And her final assessment: she thinks Celia should be tested for gifted. I’ve always agreed, but it seems like while off her meds, the other teachers didn’t agree. I intend to write a letter formally requesting testing for gifted next week.

Kittens

Kittens are adorable, right?  Well, I think I could agree a little bit more if we qualify it.  How about…domestic kittens are cute, right?  Wild kittens.  Not so cute.  So, tonight on the way to Boy Scouts, a woman flags me down and says to watch, because on the other side of the one-way bridge there are kittens in the street.  Well, unlike wild kittens, when I slowed the van they swarmed.  I opened my door and they ran to me.  I dumped boxes of Girl Scout cookies all over my trunk and started filling the boxes with kittens.  Seven kittens.  Seven friendly kittens.  So, since they wanted to climb out of the boxes, I had to hand a box of kittens to Celia, David, and Daniel.  Then when we finally arrived at Scouts, I had to take them in.  Not to mention it was a good way to advertise the kittens…

Two separate litters.  An orange tabby, and two black tabbies from one litter.  And three black kittens and a white kitten with black spots at his eyes from a younger litter.

The orange tabby was adopted at Boy Scouts.  Which means I brought six kittens home.  Six kittens that need food and a vet.  And I do not want then to end up at a shelter, euthanized because no one wants another kitten.  So, we’re vigorously washing our hands when we touch them.  We fed them dinner at nine: cat food with some water added.  Man they went nuts when we walked in with food.  At 10:30 I fed them another pan of food.  This time it was cat food with half-and-half added.  When they finished their bellies were full and they began purring.  I wiped them a bit with wipes and let them play.  They loved the dried ficas leaves on the floor.  A few of them peed in their new litter box, and then I put them back in the crate for the night.

What really stinks…I REALLY want to keep one!!!

USA Approved Characters

Okay, I like the USA channel on my cable.  I do.  I watch Monk and Psych and all the reruns of NCIS and House and Law & Order: SVU.  But my beef is their new campaign.  These Approved Characters.  To what standards are they being held?  Well, the one that gets my goat the most is Shepard Fairey.  His art is kinda cool.  Perhaps he’s a wonderful guy.  But why have him on USA painting with his spray paint and stencil in some alley.  Then he says that he enjoys doing what he’s not supposed to and getting away with it.  Does that teach our youth that grafiti is wrong?  Or does it say do it well and don’t get caught?

I finished!

I actually did it. I finished my first children’s book today. (*Notice my optomism: “my first children’s book.”) It is called Waiting Is Hard. And I must say I am pretty proud of the results. Forgive my lack of modesty, but I am excited.  I began this book months ago when I ordered a Batman toy on eBay for David.  As soon as I won the auction he went nuts.  He couldn’t wait.  He couldn’t stop pesting and whining and driving me absolutely bonkers!  And what do you know?  I read this book to him every night as we waited and it helped.  Today he was just as excited as I was when I ordered 5 copies of “our book.”  And now I’m going to be the one jumping out of my skin because I have to wait.  I sincerely hope I get my book published.  I think it can help other  people who have similar experiences.

They get too big too fast

Henry has gotten into this habit of actually waking at about 5 AM.  He drags all his knit and crocheted blankets and piles them onto my bed before attempting to climb in himself.  At this point I groggily say, “You can’t come in my bed until you go potty.”  That is, after all, what woke him.  He just won’t acknowledge that on his own.  Last night he said, “Follow me.”  I was obviously still quite asleep, because I remember saying, “Where are we going?”  He walked to my side of the bed, held out his hand, and answered, “To the baff-room.”  In my head I was thinking, “Right.  Right.  Of course.  The bathroom…” So we stumbled down the hall together.  He stood for a moment by the unopened toilet.  I asked, “Are you going to go potty?  Or should I go first?”  He said, “We’ll go together.”  (I think he’s still under the impression that everyone has a penis.)  He said he wanted to stand to pee.  He looked so cute on his tippy-toes, using both hands to aim–even though he really doesn’t need to.  When we were all finished in the bathroom, we stumbled back to bed.  Just as I got in, he asked, “Where’s my blue blankie?”  I probably mumbled, “I don’t know.”  And Henry said, “It has to be dum-where.”  After a few more “It has to be dum-where’s” I found it on the floor on his side of my bed.  He snatched it from my hand and said, “Dare it is!”  And he snuggled down to sleep a few more hours.

Celia’s Wisdom

The other week at her dad’s house, Celia said, “Chocolate is like jeans.  It goes with everything.”

What a day for a headache…

This morning David is a little out of sorts.  He was playing Batman on VSmile, Daniel was on the couch behind him.  And David was upset because Daniel was holding a toy.  Daniel wasn’t touching David.  His toy wasn’t making noise.  But David was flipping out.  When David walked away from VSmile, all 3 boys ended up sitting on my lap and I played a game.  David was upset because he wanted me all to himself.  I suggested he could play Batman again.  He said that no, he didn’t want to.  About 5 minutes later, without anyone suggesting it, Daniel hopped off my lap and said that HE wanted to play Batman VSmile.  You’ll never guess what happened next: David got upset.  Five minutes later, David was sitting on the bedroom floor surrounded by toys.  I asked if he wanted to play a game on my computer.  He said “Not right now, I’m trying to destroy Daniel’s life so I can have mine back.”

Kindergarten

My Daniel. My little, precious Daniel will be starting Kindergarten on September 8. I’ve had some difficulties enrolling him. My own mental difficulties. But I finally broke down and did it. His 5th birthday was August 10th. He received a Hulk backpack to take to school, but I didn’t finally enroll him until last Thursday. August 21st. So while David and Celia have received their bus assignments and teacher assignments, Daniel will be waiting to receive his. And today he had his school physical. The pediatrician we have been seeing was my doctor when I was born. She’s old. In fact she retired when I was a teenager and for some reason came out of retirement and is practicing again. She wasn’t pleased with Daniel. She asked if he could recite his phone number and address. I said no. That is something they learn in Kinder. I didn’t feel like he needed it memorized now. So big deal. Then she hands him a pen and tells him to write his name. (Here’s where it comes in handy to have a child named Bob.) He drew an oval and declared it a cucumber man. She told him to draw a circle. He did. She said to draw a square. He drew an odd shape and called it some super hero. She drew a square with him hand over hand while counting the sides. Then told him to do it. He did. She said, “He’s going to be behind.” I told her that he’s only begun willingly coloring and drawing within the last two weeks. And it’s summer. How am I going to teach him to write his name in two weeks during the summer when I have 4 kids?!? She asked why I didn’t put him into preschool. I’m a stay at home mom. He could’ve gone to Headstart, but why? I’m a stay at home mom! During the school year we worked on stuff more than we did this summer, but he wasn’t ready to write until now. I’m not about to push my child just so I feel like he’s ahead. She began asking him to identify colors of things that were visible and not visible (a toy, grass, the sky, etc.) and he was always correct. He knew all his shapes. I then told her he also knows all his letters and most of the phonics sounds. She reacted with surprise. Then she said, “He watches Sesame Street?” I didn’t quite get what she was saying. I answered with a confused, “Well, kinda, no not really…” Yes, I am an articulate mother. After the fact I realized that she was insinuating that all his letters and sounds knowledge came from TV. I AM A STAY AT HOME MOM!!! What on earth do people think I do all day?!? Sure my house is a mess. It’s a mess because I spend more time on puzzles and reading and coloring (IF they’re willing) and playing and doing laundry and cooking than I do picking up 8,000 action figures or filing 2,000 papers sent home from school. I also informed the wonderful doctor that Daniel excels at puzzles and spends time almost every day putting puzzles together. She said that she always had a hard time with puzzles. Can we not acknowledge here that MY son’s strengths are different than other kids? He can also cut paper rather well. I talked to a mom today whose daughter could write her name when she began Kindergarten, but could barely cut even half-way through. And I know that I should shake it off. And I will. I really will. But for right now, she definitely ruffled my feathers and I’m reacting defensively. But after all I’ve gone through with David, I think that is going to be a hard habit to break.

Oh, and while writing this post and the few breaks I’ve had to take to help Henry and David with their current project, Daniel has put together a 50 piece puzzle and it’s the first time he’s done this one.

Summer School

Well, David (being Autistic) qualified for Extended School Year (ESY).  It began this past Tuesday.  It will run Mondays through Thursdays for the month of July.  And he’s home by lunch.  This week went rather well.  I thought.  David had to ride the short bus with all the other ESY kiddos, which meant his best friend is on his bus.  And in his classroom.  And they’ll be in the same classroom together next year for first grade.  Last night as we were reading our nighttime story, David looked at me and solemnly said, “Mommy, I have a headache…tomorrow.”