Mad Rantings of Andrew's Mom

I once had such perfect arms....

2012-01-19T20:41:00.000-05:00

My heart is breaking.

These are pictures of his arms (from tonight) where he has bitten himself when he gets mad. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I have a huge bite mark on my arm from Saturday (and now I don't even care - I wish I had all the marks on my arms) apparently I somehow missed that he was biting himself again. Last night I had to hold him for 30 minutes while he sobbed because he was so mad and begged me to let him bite himself. I have been so exhausted and not feeling well that when I gave him his showers/baths I missed these bruises.

I told him that it makes me sad when he hurts himself and he said, "I once had such perfect arms." I said they will be perfect again but he has to stop biting himself and us. I told him we have to find ways to channel his anger.
He is having problems at school with anxiety, frustration and staying on task. We are working with the teacher and school psychologist closely. The problem and it will sound funny that it is a "problem" is that he is a very smart kid - scoring off the charts and so if he doesn't have academic issues - CSE doesn't care. I'm going to see how next week goes - and if things aren't better - I'm going to call the neurologist and ask for a CSE meeting to see if we can't get him extra help.

God help us. He had a good day today. I hope they continue. Pray for us.

Sadness

2012-01-09T08:02:00.001-05:00

I am just so sad. Unbearably sad.

Friday Andrew ran to me after school and said - "I had a bad day - I cried three times. I told you when I woke up this morning I knew I was going to have a bad day." His wonderful teacher whom he loves and I do too told me - he had a time out for calling out after being warned and then apparently - his crying jags continued several other times.

On Saturday while Jim and Andrew were out for their "Subway breakfast" - they do that sometimes on the weekend when Jim is home, I got an exciting call from Johns Hopkins. When they got back I said I got some exciting news (about a study on colon cancer) and Andrew said, "I don't have autism anymore is that the news?" He was beaming and jumping up and down. I felt a crack in my heart. I told him no that it was about daddy and he got upset and went to his room. I asked him what was wrong and he said, "Autism makes me stupid." I explained again that he knows he is not stupid - that he is one of the smartest kids in his class and he replied, "It makes me act stupid and all the kids make fun of me." I think he knows that his crying and frustration levels are not normal and he feels all eyes are on him. I hope they don't make fun of him - I don't believe they do but I know Andrew is very self aware of how he acts in hindsight. He has told me repeatedly "I can't help it. Mrs. M wants me to fix myself and I can't." Mrs. M doesn't want him to fix himself - he feels that Mrs. M wants him to have control over some of his actions and that sometimes he just can't.

About ten days ago he told his father that the "cool kids" on the playground make fun of him when he does something wrong. My brain says while they are sweet kids - they are just that kids and it is normal for them to make a face or not understand his behavior. My protective heart wants to do otherwise. I even told a few friends "that's okay the cool kids will be picking up his garbage every Tuesday and Thursday in twenty years while he at the hospital finding a cure for cancer." (Originally I said brain surgery but in hindsight - lovely thing hindsight - he is way too jumpy to operate on a brain.) :-)

On Monday mornings he goes in for extra Math help - but not for help - just to have extra time on Fastt Math - the program that he loves. He walks up to MM and a group of kids – and says the Giants beat the Falcons – they said they knew and turned their backs on him – and he tried really hard to talk to them but they weren’t interested. I was getting really upset. But he walked away – regrouped and tried again and the next thing – MM smiled at something he said – and he stayed there in the group on the outskirts listening but he kept trying.

In the light of all things - these problems are small but they still weigh very, very heavy on my overburdened heart.

Where did two months go?

2011-10-27T19:53:00.001-04:00

So much has been going on...and on and on....

The most important thing I want to write about is Andrew. He is doing A.M.A.Z.I.N.G. After school started he had mega anxiety and we saw his neurologist. We doubled his medications and he is just doing wonderfully. He still has a problem here and there - some anxiety, frustration. Several times over the last two months he has become very agitated and has bitten himself hard but he hasn't raised a hand to anyone - except for one swipe (and frankly she deserved it)...joking joking. No I'm not a card carrying member of the Ike Turner Fan Club. Joke, I do. (Note: I've been talking more and more like Yoda lately...maybe it has to do with menopause (early onset) and hair sprouting at weird places on my body....but digress, I do.)

My little boy is a math genius. All he wants for Christmas is a program called Fastt Math (yes, two t's). It's $300 -- he talks about it non-stop - so Scholastic (or Santa) - if you are reading this - please help an old, hairy white woman give her son what he wants for Christmas.

Jim is still working like an indentured servant. He is exhausted. We miss him. Plans still in force for a bed and breakfast by the Spring. I'm starting on lots of packing and de-cluttering. God, I love my kitchen things and cookbooks...but I love my family more (most of the time). We will paint, pull up carpets and do everything we can to make the house ready for sale.

So no news is good news. Off to make black bean pizza for my husband - he loves it -- barbecue sauce, black beans, cheddar and cilantro - it's actually very good.

Happy Halloween everyone. (My favorite holiday.)

A Fund for Jennie

2011-08-25T07:01:00.009-04:00

UPDATE : Kim is the winner at $140.00 - I sent you an e-mail Kim. Thank you.

A little over two weeks ago, I became a better person.

While my blog content is sporadic rantings of my life - particularly with autism - I am an avid foodophile - is that a word? and if it is I hope it means I love food and not that I "love" food. I love to bake and cook and have more cookbooks than a person should be allowed. My husband jokes that something has to go to which I reply - "hope you find a nice place." My blog isn't fancy - I barely have the time to brush my teeth some days - so I don't have the time to make it beautiful - just read about the robot --we tried to make for Andrew once. My blog is my therapy as is reading other blogs.

Autism is a very lonely condition for the children and the parents. While I have great friends in "real life", I have made many friends through Facebook, Twitter and through following my favorite blogs.

One of the blogs and bloggers I follow is Jennifer Perillo. My last two posts were about the sudden death of her husband and how it changed me. I have to be honest sometimes I suck at being an understanding, grateful person. I am a pisser and moaner - but a pisser and moaner that would give you the sun and the moon if you needed it and sometimes even if you just ask for it.

The wonderful food bloggers of the world started Bloggers Without Borders and a fund for Jennie to help her meet her financial obligations during this time and beyond.

I have donated, placed bids and I have friends who are mailing a check or will be mailing a check in the near future but I wanted to do more. I am offering this Cuisinart 2 Qt. Ice Cream-Frozen Yogurt & Sorbet Maker for auction.

I will ship this ice cream maker to the highest bidder who leaves a comment by August 31t (which happens to be my 9th wedding anniversary). Once the auction is over, I will send the winner a paypal invoice and once it is paid - I will donate the funds accordingly. I will pay for shipping myself. Since this is for Jennie and her girls - could we start the bidding at $100.00?

If you can't bid, please think about making a donation - every little bit helps. If you want to send a check instead of donating through paypal, send me a message.

Thank you and let the bidding begin!

Addendum: I apologize for any typos in this post - Andrew has been right here next to me since I started this post and not sitting quietly!

Addendum 2: My teeth will not get brushed today since I took the time to figure out "fancy" hyperlinks. Look at me go.

Saturday Night and More Pie

2011-08-13T18:16:00.005-04:00

I love Saturday night because I love Sunday morning. Sunday morning Jim doesn't have to rush out of bed before 6 a.m., take a shower and catch a train. I hate Sunday night because it means Monday morning starts another six days of Jim being gone for six entire days except for our fifteen minutes - "hi honey I'm home" at 9:30 p.m. talks. I use to be so angry about this. I use be so angry that I could never reach him - meetings, no reception at the data center that he works at on Saturdays or he is just too busy. My perspective has changed a bit now....I know that he will come home eventually.

My heart couldn't bear the thought of him not coming home, of never hearing his voice again, of Andrew not telling him "I love you daddy. I miss you daddy." My eyes well up now. My heart aches now thinking of Jennifer and the ache she must feel. I don't "know" her. I haven't been fortunate enough to give her the eight second hug but my heart still aches. I have worried about her and worried for her all week. I have prayed for her and I pray that I never have to experience her pain.

My sister-in-law went through this unbearable pain last year. Many women have gone through this pain...many men have too. We humans are strong. I feel Jennifer is strong.

I made an ugly pie. Even though I had an easy week compared to Jennifer's. I had a busy week. Last week of Anchor camp, preparing Jim's resume and some expense reports for him, collecting information about bed and breakfasts, collecting monies for the Anchor staff, making brownies for the camp, writing letters for the camp staff and volunteers, taking our elderly friend to the doctor, to the store, driving Andrew because the bus scares him, making soup for a friend who had surgery, making our dinners, feeding and bathing Andrew....it was busier than usual. But I made an ugly pie on Thursday night. I was too embarrassed to take a photo of it.

Tonight I made a trifle out of it - some brownies, some chocolate pudding, some pie - some whipped cream. I had taken a picture of Andrew eating a piece of the pie on Friday - it is posted above. Again, he thought it was beautiful. Last night, Jim had a small piece of the pie - he thought it was good.

Tonight, sometime, Jim will come home. He will eat dinner and have some trifle and watch his Giants pre-season game that I will tape for him and I will tell him I love him. He will come home and for that I am grateful.

A Pie for Mikey

2011-08-12T11:17:00.004-04:00

I'm not a food blogger. I'm a great cook and baker (if I do say so myself). I love cookbooks and food blogs. I'm a mom who started this blog because I wanted to journal my experiences with autism and vent. Yes, I need to vent. I'm sorry I'm not perfect. I'd give my shirt off my back, I'd do anything for anyone - but I like to K'vetch. I'm Jenny, I'm Catholic and I like to K'vetch.

That being said, I'm a follower of many wonderful blogs and bloggers. One of the food bloggers I follow, Jennifer Perillo, www.injennieskitchen.com, lost her husband suddenly last Sunday. She has asked that everyone make a pie for Mikey today, to not put off living and loving because you are "too busy". I made a pie last night and it was late and it looks ugly (not to Andrew - he thinks it looks amazing). I'm going to make another one today and post a picture in the next day or two.

It's the last day of Camp Anchor - and I just can't tell you all how wonderful those young people who work and volunteer there are. The staff in the office -- amazing, the bus drivers, the lifeguards and the campers--such overwhelming love I have for them all. For the first time ever, Andrew told me today, "I believe in myself." You know what baby, I believe in you too. Always. We have love and thanks to Jennie - I will remember that every day. Love and kindness...the only things that matter.

Love each other,
Jenny

Oh, what fresh hell is this?

2011-08-07T08:12:00.004-04:00

I'm a bad blogger. Bad. Bad. Bad.

What has happened since Mother's Day? School ended, Jim is working 14 plus hours a day, six days a week and then on the seventh sleeping(sorta like God - just joking no lightning bolts), Andrew graduated first grade and then started Camp Anchor (amazing place more on that later) and summer has almost passed us by. (Hooray - I'm a Fall girl).

Andrew has been "off" and "on". He had a bad spell of hitting and screaming and that has passed - he has lost his trip to Legoland in November. The last two weeks - he has been anxiety ridden, scared of his shadow, sobbing, jumping, flapping and depressed but he isn't hitting! He has wanted to spend almost every minute alone - every time anyone goes near him - he walks away. He has taken to hiding out in his room with the door closed - sometimes under his covers on the bed. We've talked and I've tried to comfort him - but sometimes he just wants to be alone - I can relate.

Camp Anchor is a truly remarkable place. You can read about it here http://www.campanchor.org/ . My heart is happy when I am there. I would work there full time as a volunteer doing anything. I can't say enough about the vibe of that organization. Love it.

We have a new goal we are going to start fixing up the house, packing up, painting, doing the floors etc. and then look into buying a bed and breakfast somewhere. We have all kinds of thoughts for this to supplement our income and if Jim has to he can always do IT work while I run the B & B. We don't mind hard work. Life is hard work.

I hope everyone is having a great summer.

Jenny Hartin, Attorney At Law

2011-05-25T17:53:00.003-04:00

This will be short and will be continued. It is so hard being your child's defense attorney - even with your own family.

Mother's Day

2011-05-10T15:10:00.000-04:00

I started this post a while back when I had spent one of the worst evenings of my life and due to still feeling sick and general depression I'm just getting around to editing it.

After our CSE meeting on March 17th, Andrew was declassified. We were told he was a perfect child, had lots of friends and was the most typical child in the classroom and that there was no need for services or special education (I find this suspect).

Yes, we know he is smart. He has a 128 IQ. Our biggest concern is his social behavior.

We went to a birthday party a few weeks ago - at 5 p.m. - ideally not the best time for Andrew but his alleged "friends" from his class were going to be there. He spent the entire time crying, screaming, angry. His friends didn't want them in their group. His friends allowed him sit on the mat being the last one picked. This behavior is not consistent with the school's version of Andrew and how he interacts with peers.

We went through a spell right after that party where Andrew had been crying about no one liking him, having no friends, kids making fun of him, hating school and he wanted to die.

I have since resigned as a parent member of the Committee for Special Education (CSE)for many reasons. Foremost, those meetings take a lot out of me emotionally and due to budget cuts everyone has to fight for every scrap of service and I had no fight in me for anyone other than my son. Secondly, I had asked for five minutes with the school psychologist after Andrew said he wanted to die because no one likes him at school and she didn't have five minutes after I spent the entire day sitting at their table as their parent member. I know childish - but I had enough. I think if a child who has a diagnosis says these things that perhaps the school psychologist should talk to him?? Perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps I expect too much.

Since I started this post about six weeks ago, Andrew waxes and wanes. This week he has been very quiet and reserved, weepy and seems depressed. His regular psychologist says he seems hyper, sensory seeking and stemming a great deal. I know this will pass and we'll go back to a more level ground. We always do.

Mother's Day was very nice. We had a nice breakfast at church - Andrew and I both made a new friend and then we went out to my sister-in-law's house for barbecue. It was fun - Andrew had a hard time but I managed to enjoy myself and resisted the urge to flee.

That's all I have for now. Nothing brilliant, not earth moving...but an update.

Mark My Words

2011-03-02T16:42:00.004-05:00

Remember my last post....wherein I stated if I start commenting on how well Andrew is doing....

He is having a hard couple weeks. He's flapping more. He's angry - just really angry (his therapist told me that today) but tell me something I don't know. He is just off. I can't explain it - the weight of the world is on his shoulders.

Forget about talking to the school - I'm convinced that they have their heads buried in the sand. Every time I speak to his psychologist at school - she says, "could he have gotten that on youtube"? For pity's sake, shut up about youtube already. I posted some school video on youtube for other kids parents - of a performance and now she thinks we're all a bunch of youtube addicts. I wanted to say, "No, Dr. N he didn't get that from youtube - he spends all his free time reading about Charlie Sheen's tiger blood and how he too can get himself a couple goddesses."

His outside therapist said he works so hard at trying to control his anger - no wonder he just looks empty at the end of the day. My baby.

I don't have the heart to write anything more.

Six weeks - a blink of an eye.

2011-01-28T17:11:00.003-05:00

Andrew has been doing amazingly well. I think we have the right combination of medications -- and now as soon as I write this - poof - the planets will become misaligned and cause a regression. It seems he does well as long as I don't talk/write about it.

For the last six weeks, he has been more even tempered, his ADHD symptoms a little worse, but overall he's been a delight! He has only hit - here and there - flapping has decreased, tantrums have decreased in number and duration.

I haven't written because I've been either sick, shoveling snow (lots of it) or super busy. Andrew has religion classes on Saturday mornings and then Saturday afternoons he has basketball through the Challenger sports program - which is an amazing program for special needs kids. Every time I leave there - my heart is warmed. These volunteer men and older kids - working with special needs kids teaching them sports - truly joyous to watch.

Andrew has taken to basketball and is doing very well. He's making baskets, he is listening, taking turns, sharing -- just doing beautiful. In the Spring - there will be baseball - and then lacrosse.

Bryan, my oldest son, moved back to Illinois right after Christmas. It makes me sad - but I have to admit - it has been calmer here - and we have that portion of the house back - his bedroom and a half bath. Also, we have lots and lots of food left and I'm learning to cut down on the amounts I make because the garbage disposal is gone!

I am going to post this boring post now so I get something posted for January!

Peace,
Jenny

Arthur and I wish I were Invisible

2010-12-11T06:22:00.009-05:00

A couple weeks ago Andrew and I were having comfy-cozy time. It's the time from about 6:30 until bedtime when he is too spent from his day and I, too, am spent from his day. We cuddle on our big bed and watch television. Arthur came on. As soon as the episode began and then introduced Carl, I knew the character had Aspergers. By the way, kudos to Marc Brown for teaching kids about disabilities - physical, emotional or social.

Andrew was very interested in this Carl character. We had a long talk about Aspergers and what it means.

Fast forward a week or two later, Andrew in the car to his friend, Nicholas. "Nicholas, you know I'm very smart but my brain is wired differently. I have something called Asperger's." I choked up but I was very proud.

This week has been again rough. Andrew had strep the first part of the week and has gotten into even more bad behavior. He is mimicking a lot of kid’s behaviors – i.e., “J_______ kissed the butt of a person on a book today.” Then at the psychologist office he is kissing the woman’s butt on the magazine cover. “N_____ told me how to get my way --- make a mean face and if that doesn’t work hit.”

Trust me, Andrew can hit on his own – but he is coming home with a very fresh mouth and attitude. I can’t believe those kids have that much free time for him to overhear or learn these behaviors. I’m just really confused – especially the last few weeks. He was and still is very upset about the whole “bed head” incident --- this week – he said he wanted to stick a knife in his head to make his hair stay down. The bed head incident was a couple weeks ago - when his hair was a little Something About Mary-ish. It was a particularly rough morning - trying to get him ready - dodging blows and getting him dressed. I wet his hair down and did the best I could. A group of his classmates started laughing and calling him names he was distraught. He thought bed head meant he was stupid.

His lips are very dry this week – and bleeding – I put Vaseline on them – he was in tears sobbing – that the kids were going to say he has lipstick on – I’ve talked to a couple other moms and they are feeling the same way- the kids are coming home really fresh and with a bad attitude – this is first grade – where are these kids getting this attitude? He seems just to be having a hard time with a lot of things lately. I understand kids are kids – but they are six. Andrew would NEVER ever think of making fun of someone’s appearance at this age. (He'll beat you ala pre-grill George Foreman style but he wouldn't say - "look at four eyes"). This is learned behavior – and for six year olds to be doing this – kind of scares me for our future as a whole. If I am upset about something – and I do cry, he makes fun of that now – “Cry baby you big cry baby” -- that is new behavior and I’ve heard the same from another mother. It is sad that six year olds are so cynical.

Bryan is packing and getting ready to move back to Illinois. He's been here over almost seven years. I will be sad. He drives me nuts and while it will be great to have that room back to make into my office once again - I will miss him. I think Andrew will too. We're giving him our white car so that will make life even tougher until we get a second car.

We'll we've been up two hours - it's 6:52 a.m. and Andrew just came into the office singing "yeah you're an idiot". Thanks first grade.

Thanksgiving.

2010-11-29T16:58:00.004-05:00

Andrew has been much calmer with his father and myself...but he still can't have a friend around without pulverizing them. It's horribly depressing. I've been so sad for the last two weeks - and I couldn't talk to Jim about it - or he'd be beyond consolation. That changed on Wednesday when I had a nervous breakdown.

On Wednesday, he pounded his friend in the chest because she switched a ball she had gotten from the 25 cent machine with one he got - I'm not sure of the exact timing of events or how it all went down - - but it was traumatic for me. My sister-in-law was there and I think she was shocked by how violent he can become. He pushed her to the ground and when she tried to get up - he pounded her in the chest. His friend is usually quick and doesn't get the brunt of his aggression but this time - the look on her face....it made my heart sink.

Once I got home, I started down the slippery slope of despair. Andrew then began to obsess incessantly about the Hoops for Heart event at school - begging me to call people, begging me to e-mail and look under couch cushions (apparently the teachers tell them to do that -- why do they do that - do they realize this child is prone to anxiety attacks and obsession -- yes, the do they know his diagnosis he is in an inclusion class?). He had already given his tooth fairy money for the cause and we donated $50.00. He then started with "can we put daddy's work down for $50?" He kept repeating and repeating until I just lost it. I took the form away. I told him if he asked again he couldn't participate. He grabbed the form. He said okay that he understood. Two minutes later, "can daddy's work put down $50?" I grabbed the form and crumbled it up. I felt like the most heinous person in the whole fucking world for doing that. (I will never understand how people who abuse their children sleep at night. I was ready to take my life because of this out of control action of mine -- yes, crumbling up his form nearly killed me...but worse yet...."it's okay mommy don't cry - I like it crumbled - but why did you do that?" I called everyone I knew to get another form (I did get a new one this morning). I wanted to die. Because he had really pummeled his friend at the diner and then was harassing me about this pledge drive - I lost it. I don't want to be that person. I don't like that person.

Thanksgiving was good. We went to Mass - I prayed for strength. I prayed to be a better mom and a better person.

Friday was bad. Andrew wanted a big huge box that we were throwing out from the basement to make a "star fighter". I knew that he would become frustrated. But how could I not let him build something. 7:30 a.m. he's trying to build the star fighter and then he messed up some writing on the side. He started screaming. He started at me. He hit me fifteen times before I could contain him. He got away and picked up the dining room chair and threw it and broke a piece of it. When I went to pick it up, he pounded me in the back so hard - I almost cried. In my head I kept thinking - he did this to his friend three times in the chest and she is a little girl. I told him that was it. The box was going away until he could control himself. He came at me again and sunk his teeth into my arm. I just started crying.

This "disease" is so fucking lonely.

Jim worked all day Saturday (he has been working alot). My friends took Andrew to the Children's Museum and then they all came for dinner and it was a good day. Andrew hasn't been sleeping well. He was up alot Saturday night - and I was up with him from before midnight until after 1:30 a.m. - then Jim's phone started ringing - and I didn't fall back to sleep until 3 a.m. That morning Andrew was up at 5:30 and I got up with him while Jim slept until about 8:30. I was exhausted. So after church around 2 p.m., I wanted to lie down for an hour. Jim wanted to watch football. Andrew went to play on the computer. Apparently, Andrew kept losing his patience and kept screaming and Jim kept screaming and I felt like a maniac. I was so tired and every time I would dose off the screaming started. Andrew came in the bedroom sobbing because Daddy was yelling. I apparently yelled "what is going on?" and Jim then decided to take him outside because I yelled at him and that made him feel guilty because he had been yelling at him all afternoon. I got up after no nap, did some dishes and went outside too and we had a good time with friends from the neighborhood.

Now apparently Jim is beside himself for putting work, football -- first. Every day for years Andrew has said, "Do you think Daddy will come home and surprise me?" Jim leaves for work at 7 a.m. and comes home most nights at 9:30 p.m. Once a week or so 11 or after. Here lately he has worked a couple Saturdays. He's a train wreck because he never sees Andrew and on the one day he is home - we have church and then Jim wants his football.

I'm a train wreck. I can't tear myself up anymore for being a physical and emotional wreck. Six days a week lately - I am alone with Andrew and while I know I can do better - I also know I do a pretty damn good job. Jim's football could wait - it's being DVR'd for pity's sake - play with your son the one day you see him - so you don't have to beat yourself up the next day and make me feel even worse for wanting to take a nap.

I told them both - it's a new day, a new beginning. No more yelling. We'll see how that goes.

I have to go now - he is screaming in the living room . That is how it goes.

Addendum: Crisis averted there - only dead batteries in the Wii remote.

Dilemmas

2010-10-26T08:34:00.003-04:00

We are so happy that Andrew is doing so well on the medication - he has changed into this sweet, wonderful, adorable child all the time instead of part-time. He is a calmer, gentler Andrew --a thousand points of light Andrew.

Sometimes I feel like it is wrong to change him. I know that makes little sense. Then, I fear that that the medication will stop working...it's quite the dilemma.

Jim is so happy that Andrew seems happier and non-Mike Tyson like and I am too.

I never watched Ally McBeal - but I saw a clip or read something that if she didn't have a crisis - she would invent one....I'm doing that. If I don't have to make myself sick about Andrew, I'll have to look for something else to do. I guess that is a good thing.

Ssshhhh - I think the new medication is working

2010-10-20T20:19:00.003-04:00

....be very very quiet....

Andrew started on Strattera last week in the a.m. (and is still on the Risperdal in the evening) and has been doing amazing! (no yelling - forget I typed that exclamation point).

Miracles of all miracles occurred today. The child has been waiting, not so patiently, for Lego Universe to be released. We pre-ordered the game for him and it was delivered in the mail on Tuesday. Jim installed it Tuesday night and this morning I told him that he could play for thirty minutes before school. He was so happy.

Then Jenny's law happened (similar to Murphy's law.

The game kept locking up in the introduction. He got mildly upset. "It is the worst day of my life." But he didn't hit me.

I told him when I got back home from driving Aunt Flo to the doctor and grocery shopping I would call Lego. It ended up with Lego telling me to uninstall and then reinstall with the link they provided and also some other items to check. I don't do things that involve the word "install".

I picked Andrew up from school. The first words out of his mouth - "is the game fixed?"

"No, honey, I tried but there are some things that Daddy will need to take care of tonight." (I then ducked behind a tree in a fetal position.)

"Oh, okay. I wish it could be fixed."

No screaming. No blows to my cranial area. No blood transfusions needed (for me).

Dare I hope to dream?

Trust me, America, this is a miracle of Chilean miners proportions. I kid you not. Normally, this child would have thrown himself on the ground, beaten the beJesus out of me, screamed as if Michael Myers was behind him....and generally made my afternoon/evening like a day with Kathy Bates ala Misery.

He was and has been incredibly even tempered. His psychologist even mentioned that he was very interested in playing a game the correct way not the Andrew way today.

Let's see how long it lasts.

Update: Last night, Jim clicked on the shortcut and it worked four times - after doing nothing. I swear to God (and worse yet - Jim gave me one of those "it's the user" looks - you know the kind computer professionals give us commoners.

This morning - Andrew and I clicked on the shortcut - locked up. Jim came in - and I said "could I not be clicking it right?" He said he would try to fix it tonight. Later, Bryan came in - my older gamer son - figured out the problem and calm is now settled down deep in my soul. Andrew did great again with all the frustration this morning. I knew there was a reason I keep Bryan around - and it doesn't involve him eating all the food in my house.

Andrew's Mom - Hostage Negotiator

2010-10-06T13:15:00.005-04:00

I've been out of commission. First it was the thirty days of the big "D" and the other horrible symptoms that came along with it - now the last twelve days of the treatment caused - more big "D", dizziness, chest pain, joint and muscle pain, flu like symptoms, brain fog, frequent urination and sleepiness -- the only thing I didn't get was an erection that lasted for more than four hours.

On a good note, Andrew had three amazing weeks after we took him off the Concerta --- the last two days he has taken to hitting me again - but only once or twice before I "talk him down".

I came to a realization yesterday while at McDonald's with Andrew and his friend, Madison (I am watching her while her mom works and her grandmother is out of town). In hostage situations, experts tell you to try to make the criminal see you as a human - i.e., don't kill me because I'm a mother - my son will miss me and needs me, don't kill me because my parents love me and need me - etc. -- whatever your situation is let them see you as someone who is loved and not just a throwaway.

Yesterday, Andrew was getting annoyed and a little aggressive with this screaming little three year old girl. The mother was wonderful and we started talking and she started working with me - on getting the kids to play along nicely. I had all three kids over by me (the mother was standing close) and I said, "Andrew, look at Kayla - she is little - she is only three - she needs a big brother type to protect her. You don't want to hurt her." He looked at her and thought about it for a minute, "You are only three?" The mother joined in and actually the mother spent a lot of time talking to Andrew about himself - "do you like baseball? how old are you?" - and we got them all talking. We succeeded in getting Andrew to see her as a "little girl" not a screaming banshee set out on annoying him.

Normally, I would have taken flight - you know it is easier to take flight than to fight - but this ended up being a good experience. I was exhausted but it felt successful - maybe if we all took a moment to explain ourselves the world would be a better place. I have to give a lot of credit to the mom too - she wasn't overly protective of her daughter - she wanted to make the situation better and engage Andrew - not just watch out for Kayla and make Andrew the "throwaway".

Last Sunday was the Walk for Autism at Jones Beach (picture above - I'm behind the camera) - we had a very windy, cold day but had a wonderful time with our family there to support us. We are lucky to have great family and friends...even though at times it seems I am all alone - I know I am not.

Too weak to be distraught....

2010-09-19T21:08:00.003-04:00

We must get him off the Concerta STAT. Saturday morning while telling him he had to get off the computer to prepare for religious education classes (ironically) he right hooked me in the eye, broke my glasses (I repaired them) and really bruised the orbital bone around my eye. Jim was at the point of tears because I screamed so loud - this hurt worse than the head butt to my nose -- Jim reminded me of my dad when one of us would get hurt. He was beyond distraught - I am too weak to be distraught. Andrew was punished and the rest of Saturday was better.

Sunday, today, he was a little better - the Concerta isn't working for him. I'm not giving it to him in the morning and I'll call the neurologist. When I spoke to her on Thursday - she told me to up it and up his Risperdal to counter-act the aggression. NO. Three folks I know - had the same problem with Concerta...and Focalin is working for them (it doesn't mean Focalin will work for us) but we know Concerta isn't for him. One of the reasons he has to suffer with seasonal allergies is that the Claritin turns him into Mike Tyson.

Got a call from my doctor last evening - one of my tests came back for Celiac's Disease...and I have to see a GI right away - as there was no parasites in my system (I was hoping for parasites) I most likely have ulcerative colitis. Yippee. Another member joins the let's get up Jenny's ass club.

Andrew has the sniffles and a cough. I'm praying he is recovered tomorrow. He needs to go to school and I need to get some work done around here - today was a stay in bed day. Jim had to work and got home around 1:30 ish. Saturday we spent the day re-arranging the bedroom, then re-arranging it again, then finally re-arranging it. I know I'm going to end up peeing in the hamper one night.

I know this is a messy post. Just doing what I can to confuse the rest of humankind.

I wonder if Mel Gibson has autism

2010-09-15T18:45:00.002-04:00

Andrew started the Concerta in addition to his Risperdal last Friday. Friday seemed good - Saturday and Sunday - good as well.

Monday morning began the hitting - started off slow and escalated into a beatdown today. He hit me at least ten times this morning and then this afternoon from the moment I picked him up at school at 2:20 until about 3:20 - in the therapist's office - he must have hit me fifty times and kicked me half as much. I could barely contain him - the therapist worked with me and it took the full session in the waiting room (thankfully no one else was there) to calm him down.

I've been very sick -- for many months with fevers, itching (relevant) and swollen lymph node (now nodes). September 1st I started with massive diarrhea to now just blood and mucous - I know too much information - but there is a point to this - I've lost 31 pounds - it's great but I'm weak. The doctor has ordered a barrage of tests and then when those are back - CT scans of my chest and abdomen to rule out lymphoma.

I could barely contain Andrew today - partially because I am weak - additionally because he is so big and strong. I fear for the future. If things don't get better - he is going to end up really hurting someone.

He is an angel at school. Mrs. Salvatore spoke to me today and said he is doing beautifully - she sees some frustration and the "perfection" issue - everything has to be just so-so but he is a good kid at school. The therapist said this is common - that kids can hold it together in school and then let go at home. I'm grateful he is good at school - but if he would give one kid a smack down - we could get more help (I jest sort of).

We worked out a new plan - a four tier behavioral plan.

Step One - a warning
Step Two - a time out
Step Three - he loses Legos for the day
Step Four - no books at night (he is an avid reader - and we read anywhere from three to six books a night - and while I hate that as a punishment -- it must be -- it is his comfort at night - for me to cuddle with him and read).
Step Five - mommy moves to Vegas (joking)

Hello God - are You listening - I know You have Your hands full with those Tea Baggers, the Palins and Paris Hilton - but could You throw me a bone? Just a little one? Thank You.

Soul Searching

2010-09-10T11:00:00.002-04:00

Spent the morning crying.

Got his first Concerta down him - and he is different. We were watching Rachael Ray (we don't usually watch this show - but I had ABC on this morning - and when the television started it was on and it was about an inner city school culinary program so I stayed there).

One of the young men on the program said when his grandfather got ill things went from bad to worse. Andrew said, "that's me". "I go from bad to worse." He had tears in his eyes. He said, "I treat Timmy bad and you bad and I'm no good." I started crying. He was crying. He is SIX.

I reassured him that he is a wonderful, sweet, smart boy and that we are working on the problems. He is so scared that he won't "get Timmy back". Oh my God, how can a broken heart keep breaking?

We talked for about an hour. I notice a difference already with the medication.

"Mommy, why do parents love their children?"

"Andrew, why do you love me?"

"I just do."

"Me, too."

"Will you always love me?"

"Forever."

"Can I grow a beard?"

Soul-less

2010-09-09T16:38:00.006-04:00

I have yet to find the energy to write about vacation. I will. Someday.

Today we had an appointment with the neurologist at 2:45 for an ADHD medication for Andrew. He is currently on the anti-psychotic for aggression (imagine if he wasn't medicated).

Before that appointment I called Regina to see if we could meet at a park for an hour or so and then have lunch.

Things didn't start off good. He just turned into a monster at the park. Screaming, demanding - and then most of the time over in a corner by himself (while that breaks my heart at least he wasn't hurting anyone).

The last straw was when he ended up pounding Timmy on the back about five times because Timmy was on a push toy he wanted. After I had him sitting on the park bench for fifteen minutes in punishment all the while - screaming, kicking and trying to hit me....Timmy walks up and calmly says - "Andrew I don't like how you treat me." Andrew said, "I'm ignoring you." You understand Timmy was in the wrong because Timmy had something Andrew wanted and no amount of punishment, talking to, pleading, begging, crying would or could make Andrew see that. I apologized to Timmy for Andrew's behavior. Regina asked Timmy if he was hungry and Timmy said, "Yes, but I don't want to eat with Andrew." Neither did I, Timmy, neither did I.

Andrew then threw mulch in my face because I said okay and that I understood. He must have hit me twenty times in the park and fifteen times (with a couple of bites too) on the way to the car.

This keeps getting worse. How many pieces of my soul can be taken before there is nothing left?

Addendum: My husband just sent me a message: "I am just ridiculously tired, sad, hopeless"...yeah, me too.

It's my pity party and I'll cry if I want to....

2010-08-20T14:08:00.002-04:00

It's been a rough couple of weeks. Really rough.

Andrew missed a friend's birthday party on Sunday - so I called the mom yesterday and said - can we take B___ out for pizza to give her the birthday gifts we had. She said that would be so nice and proceeded to tell me that when they were doing the invitations they were worried that Andrew would do something weird and ruin her party. That made me cry all day. But nevertheless, we set up a play date for today with another friend to join us too.

This morning Andrew woke up in a hitting and name calling mood. I knew I should cancel -- that Andrew would hold true to her expectations. But I didn't because Andrew cried and he wanted to go. Plus I didn't want her to think that we were all crazy - canceling the day after I set it up. Five phone calls this morning initiated by the other mom- and it was changed to us coming to their house to swim and have pizza. Originally, we were going to meet at the pizza place.

Andrew was okay for about 45 minutes - then the screaming began. Then he beat the crap out of me - and head butted me so hard in my face that I thought my nose was broken - I almost passed out. Just for the record - you do see stars. The mom made lots of comments. I was mortified and I looked at her and said - "well, you were right - he would have ruined your party".

We left. I want to die.

We have four days next week in Mystic CT with his friend Timmy who he loves but fights with and treats like dirt. If we hadn't prepaid - I would get out of this. It's going to be hell.

Also for the record, I hate being like this - I hate being negative Nancy. I hate being exhausted. I hate crying all the time. I hate it. I love my son. I hate the autism.

Two steps forward, a half mile back.

2010-08-05T18:41:00.003-04:00

Dear God,

Why do you give us four great weeks and then bam hit us with a spinning head and pea soup?

Thanks for your time.

Sincerely,
Andrew's Mom

There are no words to describe my exhaustion and despair. The last two weeks have been ......bad.

Today at McDonald's - I wanted to throw myself on the deep fryer. Everyone there was staring at us. Andrew wouldn't stop screaming at the top of his lungs - and I couldn't leave because I was waiting for my friend to come and collect her son from me -- by the time she got there - he was calmer but the forty five minutes before that was another story. Not only the screaming, but the going after other children, putting his friend Timmy in a headlock (three times), crawling under the table to attack him, screaming every time Timmy said anything that Andrew did like and that was pretty much everything, screaming at the other kids who were screaming like Michael Myers was after them....there was more but I have tried to block it out.

Jim goes to Philadelphia on Saturday for a METS game - and Andrew and I are suppose to go to a block party - and you know what I DON'T WANT TO GO. I don't want to have my entire Saturday afternoon spent playing defense. I can't do it. I can't.

I'm battling some pretty serious issues myself - and I'd rather just spend Saturday home alone with my little Regan and be safe. If that makes me a shitty mother, so be it.

I spend all week - cleaning, cooking, running errands, driving my 82 year old friend to the store and once a week to her doctor - baking cookies for people even after I say "no I don't have the time"...I don't want to spend my weekend trying to protect other children from my son.

My 82 year old friend - nominated me for the Make a Difference Award for the Town of Hempstead. I don't want it. I want to get off the waiting list for the Anchor Camp for autistic kids - I want Andrew to go to a camp where they can deal with his issues and help him not to regress. This last week at the YMCA in Queens has not been good. So Kate Murray, Town of Hempstead - when you get Flo's letter - don't give me the "medal" - give me a shorter wait.

My banana is no match for your sword.

2010-07-20T13:53:00.006-04:00

Dear Blogworld:

Thank you for letting me get my words out. I have so many at times and then sometimes I have so few.

My little boy is doing amazing things - for instance....he is being social. Social - happy and interacting with other humans. Again....don't want to step too high on the hopes ladder...but things are looking good.

Yesterday after three years of being terrified of the pool and the bath (getting water in his face/eyes) he went swimming at his Aunt Nora's. He swam (floated) across the pool by himself. He touched the bottom of the pool. He ate dinner at Aunt Nora's and for the first time (except for when Jim and I visited Johns Hopkins) I had an afternoon without him. The first time in six years. It was scary, weird and relaxing and I missed him horribly and I had such guilt. Nora was happy. Andrew was happy. I was happy. I had to have guilt.

He has been so funny - the other day Jim had the measuring tape open. Andrew had a banana he was in the process of eating. He charged Jim and with a hint of Antonio Banderas in his voice he declared, "My banana is no match for your sword." I wrote about this on Facebook - I almost wet myself.

Today I read a story about a little girl and her mother (link below). It took my breath. It does put things in perspective. Our struggles are struggles -- but I think we all need a wake up call once in a while and these "words" gave me one. Pray for Jessica. I am.

http://jenniferlawler.com/wordpress/?p=747

Sincerely,
Andrew's Mom

P.S. One funny note - I somehow have become one of my own followers on my blog and can't seem to unfollow myself. Does this qualify as blogurbation?

Arugula and Yams

2010-07-08T10:55:00.005-04:00

It's July 8th and we're plugging along.

I have good news. The behavioral consultant helped immensely and Andrew as well as ourselves are doing much better. We were only give three hours and hopefully will be given more. Mike's techniques are the exact opposite of three years of "parent training" by psychologists techniques. Parent training services are given to parents of special needs children to help deal with difficult issues. Our present psychologist, who we just started seeing about two months ago, agrees with Mike's techniques. I never did ask if what we're doing is right - assuming that if three different psychologists tell us how to handle his issues that they must be right but I guess it is a smart thing to talk over ideas and how you are handling things when you see a new doctor/psychologist.

The July 4th weekend was HOT HOT HOT and Andrew and I were sick - I more so. I had 102.3 temperature on the 4th - that coupled with the heat and humidity - everyone thought I was going to expire. Andrew and I went down to Breezy until 2 p.m. then headed home - and Jim came home about 11 p.m. On Monday we had a couple family hours and Jim went to a second cousin's wedding. So it was a quiet, sick and did I say HOT weekend.

Andrew started summer camp last week and loves it - he is being so social and out going - it's kinda scary - I don't want to get my hopes up too high because they can come crashing down....but things do look better. "Camp is great but there are no pretty girls there."

This morning one sock that I picked out had a hole, I told Andrew to run into the bedroom and get a sock from the basket (clean laundry basket implied)...he's gone two minutes - "Come on Andrew let's go." He runs back. "You scared me." "Where is the sock?" He runs back to the bedroom. A minute passes - I get up - I go into the bedroom - half his body is in the hamper. "I meant a clean sock Andrew." He does make me laugh.

Are you wondering what arugula and yams are doing in my title? At 10:30 I had breakfast - some "peppery" arugula (Dear God every television cook says that - okay we know arugula is peppery - enough !!!) and a baked yam -- it was tasty and quite filling. I'm trying a new approach to eating - eating what I want when I want. Let's see if that works.

Still have a pulse....

2010-06-25T16:14:00.000-04:00

I've been missing lately. Lacking lustre.

It's been extraordinarily rough the last month - I have no idea what is happening. I have a ray of hope....a behavioral consultant came on Wednesday to help us learn better techniques that work with autistic children. He is the Autism Whisperer. Amazing - it will take a lot of willpower and strength to get through this but we will.

I had written this post a few days earlier and removed it because originally I thought it was therapeutic for me to get it out - and then I realized that not every detail should be put out there for consumption. So after heavy editing - I'm reposting. Sorry for the confusion.

Got a wonderful package of cookies decorated especially for Andrew from these wonderful ladies - Cookies for a Good Cause http://www.cookiesforagoodcause.blogspot.com/. (I had won a contest) but they decorated them up special for Andrew and that made me feel good (you can see a picture on their blog). I made a donation to their cause for shipping the cookies and making Andrew's day.

Pray for us.

The Cha Cha Parade

2010-05-28T08:21:00.004-04:00

Yesterday was Field Day for the Kindergartens. Next year - just cover me with honey, sit me on an ant hill and release the bears. The good news was that Jim took off so we could double-team Andrew. The bad news is that now whenever someone mentions the words "field" and "day" in the same phrase I go into a full body dry heave (ala Elaine).

After the longest two hours of my entire life, Jim went home with Andrew to wash away the day's dirt and I went to the church to register Andrew for religious ed classes to start in September. We didn't eat lunch (Jim & I) so Jim graciously took us out to Fridays for dinner. The Southern State was backed up at 4 p.m. (no we're not ready for the early bird special - we were hungry) and it took us a while to get there. Andrew got frustrated with the stop and go traffic and shouted out "enough with the cha cha parade." I knew what he meant but I asked him - "What do you mean?" He said, "Go Go Stop Stop Stop Go Go Stop Stop Stop" in perfect cha cha rhythm.

I asked him if he had heard that phrase before he said, "NO! It just seems like a cha cha." This kid while turning every hair on my head gray is stunningly smart and witty. He also has a mean right hook. We got to Fridays by 4:45 and on par with the day - my favorite Thai chicken wrap is no longer available. Honey....anyone...honey?

It has been a rough week for me. Andrew cannot be on the playground after school for more than five minutes without becoming very aggressive, angry, picking up mulch to use as a projectile, threatening a child or crying. If he doesn't do this - he is wandering in a corner by himself. I have to say honestly the kids are already clicky. They have their play buddies and there is not room for Andrew - they tell him - "you can't come up here" (the playset) etc. That sets him off but in total honestly - sometimes he doesn't even need that to start the fire.

We can't go to a birthday party, have people over, go to church, basically do anything that involves human interaction without him behaving this way.

I have witnessed and my friends have witnessed Andrew's like behavior in the classroom and at school events. I have driven by at recess time and there are 24 to 48 kids outside with one to two aides watching them. You cannot tell me that he is being watched 100 percent of the time - which leads me to my point...yes I do have a point...

His team at school says that he doesn't show any of these behaviors at school. Yes, he gets frustrated and angry, he flaps, he pouts - but he doesn't have meltdowns or show aggression. Yesterday at field day (twitching starts) he had at least four explosive incidents. I don't buy it. While his team is great, they can't see every behavior of every child especially when a few of the typical kids should be evaluated for behavioral problems. The kids names being called out the most yesterday to behave were not the special needs kids.

I am pushing for a behavioral consultant. They are going to watch him more closely and see if they agree. The school psychologist was outside for ten minutes at the first event of field day (twitch) - during which Andrew had no issues. It was right after that when we started to slip down that slope.

When I brought up these issues, I was told that maybe he shouldn't be expected to go on the playground right after school. Do they truly believe I want to endure that torture? He cries to go. After three years of therapy, isn't it believable to think that he could survive five minutes before hell ensues. It was suggested that I should leave on a positive note before he gets upset - so that would mean going through the gate and turning right back around. I'm not exaggerating.

I'm not criticizing the school or what they believe they see. They don't live this. They don't cry because their child is angry or sad or lonely. They don't have a clue what it is to be so physically and emotionally exhausted that part of you just doesn't care if you wake up or get out of bed. I love my child more than anything - but when he goes to bed for the evening - I feel such an immense sense of relief sometimes that guilt consumes me and I cry again.

Update: I happen to drive by the school this morning on the way to the grocery. The two kindergarten classes were outside for gym so I slowed down. Andrew running after a group of kids with the soccer ball and I must admit - not being aggressive. I sat there for five minutes. For five minutes each aide and one of the gym teachers watching a typical child hula hoop with their backs turned to my child and his group. The other gym teacher and inclusion aide on the other side of the playground. So if my child was acting out or falling apart - would they notice it - I think not - not unless they have eyes in the back of their heads. Don't get me wrong - they work hard - they take care of our kids - but they cannot see everything.

GOOD MORNING BALTIMORE...(tomorrow)

2010-05-18T08:28:00.004-04:00

I'm so nervous about leaving my complicated little boy for the afternoon/evening. I have over two typed pages of instructions for my sister in law entitled "Andrew directions":

1) Do not touch the light switch by the front door – that will shut down the t.v. and Wii – and sometimes the Wii doesn’t come back until you disconnect everything (including cables) and then the DVR/cable box – sometimes doesn’t come back on easily and I know you'll want the television later for yourself. I’m taping all my Wednesday shows –but you should still be able to watch a show (please be careful and don’t turn the cable box off when you use the remote –Jim does it all the time - he swears he doesn't and he hasn't in a while - but it happens). At 4:30 - on channel 33 (it will tape) is Andrew's favorite show - Brain Surge - he loves it...if he is fussy - tell him it is on. He jumps alot when this show is on.

2) The phones are in the office and there is one right next to the television.

3) Our cell phones: XXX-XXX-XXXX – XXX-XXX-XXXX – the address here in case of emergency XXX XXXXX Avenue (note to readers - I might not know Peggy's house number although I know where her house is and 911 can't get here by saying it's the tan house a red door) – Bryan has to be up by 6:00 to go to work (I knock on the door and make sure he is up) – don’t go in (scary scary).

4) Andrew’s medicine is drawn up on the counter and his medicine for his sinus infection too–– the syringes goes into his mouth – and he needs a drink of soda afterwards (cup in fridge with straw ready to go. GIVE HIM HIS MEDICINE at 5:15 – 5:30 ish.

5) Chicken rolls in fridge ready to heat – just use your own judgment – (around 45 seconds for a half roll should be okay) he likes it hot but not all cheesy. He hates when it is too cheesy and he hates when it is too cold or too hot. It's a slippery slope I travel.

6) His homework is in his folder – if he is being fussy – let it go. (he usually has one page and I can do it with him on Thursday morning).

7) Tea pot and tea things are ready for you!

8) He needs a snack after school – out and labeled. He usually eats dinner about 4 o’clock – and has a yogurt or watermelon around 6:00 or 6:30 – he just gets water – bottles in fridge – pour into his green cup.

9) AS SOON AS HE GETS HOME – PEE (he should not you!) AND he should WASH HIS HANDS (you have to make sure he does this - he gets distracted and thinks he does sometimes and doesn’t). He should pee every 2 hours at least – remind him – he’ll say – no I don't have to go but tell him he has to go. If he gets fussy remind him – he is trying to earn his dollars (our new reward program).

10) Before getting ready to read books- he needs to pee – brush his teeth (everything set out) – change pajamas (on bed) – turn his night light on – and his favorite books are there on bed. About 6:45 or 7 start that and he should be ready (after 3 or 4 books, about a half an hour) for you to turn off the lamp and say good night (leave his door open – or he’ll scream).

11) Computer – he likes:

www.jumpstart.com (he knows how to log on)
and

www.freerealms.com -- Login in name:
Password:

(these are case sensitive). If you have problems – ask Bryan – (show him this paper). After 6:00 – no computer.

He likes Channel 123 at 3 until 4:30 -- those shows -- and then at 6:30 – he likes 131 Cyberchase but he doesn't always watch t.v..

The Wii he hasn’t played in weeks. Turn the television on -- turn the Wii on- take the TV remote and push INPUT once – you will see the Wii screen and he knows what to do. To get back to the television – hit INPUT three times – and you should be back to TV.

12) Although the last three days have been better behavior wise - if he gets upset and starts having a tantrum - approach him cautiously - don't think you can go hug him and make it better. Last week a part of my cheek was almost ripped out- and I know what I'm doing with him. Riot gear in the closet.

If you have any problems – you can call us.

Do you think I over did it? Trust me - I didn't. Our new reward program is that he gets a dollar a day - one for not hitting, a second for not screaming - so far he's made it three whole days. I'm starting up a new program for me - for Jim. If I don't annoy him, I get $10 a day. If I add in a "you are the most wonderful man in the world" that's an extra $10 and for the FULL wonderful wife experience - that's a $100. So far I haven't earned anything.

So glad it is only once a year....

2010-05-12T09:18:00.000-04:00

Mother's Day that is....what a joke...next year just fuggedaboudit - little Brooklyn there for you.

I'm having severe panic attacks. Next Wednesday I'm planning on going with Jim to Johns Hopkins in Baltimore (we're in Long Island). We'll drop Andrew off at school at 8 a.m. - drive to Baltimore have lunch - go to his appointment at CR-CRAC - god I love that (colo-rectal cancer risk assessment clinic) at 2:00 and then drive home.

I have arranged for a friend to pick up Andrew and drop him off at home where my sister-in-law Peggy will be waiting to take care of him until we get home. Bryan will be here too - until seven p.m. so there is help. Andrew goes to bed between 7 and 8. But he needs his medicine, reminders for everything, just a plethora of issues and while I know Peggy is competent - I'm freaking out - I've never left him like this.

This weekend alone with the parties and disruption of his usual routine - I've paid dearly (screaming, crying, hitting, anxiety just to name a few) and that was just Jim's behavior - I joke I joke - although I must say Jim was not a very nice person to me on Sunday - and I will remember that once Father's Day rolls around. Father's Day - now that is a holiday I'd like to experience. Breakfast in bed, sleeping late, kindness and gentleness...a thousand points of light celebration. Me....a hollowed out bagel for breakfast and lunch -- he didn't want to go out to lunch after church and then the silent treatment all afternoon. I will give him this - I'm not the easiest person in the world to live with - but it was Mother's Day - throw me a flippin bone. Smile. A dozen points of light maybe. I don't need flowers - I bought my own damn present - you could have wrapped it. Andrew told me he wanted to get me (read: him) a Topsy Turvy planter but he didn't have any money (note he never has any money he's five). That was nice to get a thought....Jim - could have given me a thought...give me a thought. I bought my own damn Topsy Turvy strawberry planter on Monday and Andrew was so happy - and we'll get it set up this weekend. Damn infomercials. Andrew also wants to know - why we didn't act now and they could have doubled our offer.

I love my life. I love my husband. I'm just tired and scared and dealing with a problem I've had for thirty years. After Jim's colon is resolved (so to speak), I'll try to fix me.

Pray for us. I'll pray for you.

Mother's Day

2010-05-06T09:19:00.004-04:00

I've been neglectful in my goal to continue to bore the B-Jesus out of you all (all indicates many....perhaps it is too strong a word) who read this blog of mine.

I've been very busy lately - creating an organized table (30 pages long with 15 rows on each page) of each person's name, address, act of kindness, mass card...who supported the Berry family during this time (see two previous posts). Sadly, we (they) cannot possibly send a thank you card to all the wonderful people who stood on line to pay their respects - that number was over 2000 - but they (we) do thank every single person who paid a visit, said a prayer or thought about them during this time.

I've also had orders for cookies, doing desserts for family gatherings and trying to clean this house...it would be so easy just to move. After next week's order - my goal (again) is to de-clutter - go through Andrew's clothes and books and then work on making my "baking" storage spaces upstairs and downstairs more organized and easy to use. I realized last week that I was not using my new microplane grater that I got six months ago - because I couldn't get to it easy enough and I didn't take it out of it's packaging. How stupid is that? I opened that sucker up and I grated my carrots for my meatballs so quickly and easily - I slapped myself for not opening it sooner.

Andrew has been doing so so. Better with the anger and hitting. He's having a hard time with the concept of Uncle George being gone. He also had strep and a sinus infection.

He is so smart that it boggles my mind. (The other day he said, "Mommy I could just eat you up - well not literally". What five year old knows the meaning of literally? (Perhaps we explain too many things to him - but I'm counting on his genius to give me a lifestyle I want to be accustomed to - some day).

The things he knows and picks up on. We were watching a portion of Good Morning America because Sam Champion was doing a piece on swimming with the manatees. Andrew is so into manatees right now - but while I was getting it ready to DVR they did a spot on the Lacrosse player in Virginia who beat his girlfriend to death. Andrew said, "He hit her?" I said, "Yes, he hit her." Andrew continued, "She died?" I said, "Yes, he hit her so many times she died. That is why mommy and daddy are so tough on you about hitting. We cannot hit people - we can hurt them and in some cases even kill them." "Really?" He sat there for a few minutes. He came over to me and hugged me. "Mommy I promise I'll never hit you again." I know that he won't be able to keep that promise - but I know and have a feeling he will really try hard and eventually he won't ever hit me again.

Happy Mother's Day to all the wonderful women out there who are mothers, will be mothers, take on roles of mothers and to my mother who has been dead now for a year and a half...I know you were mentally ill and didn't mean to do the things you did and I hope you have finally found peace and are happy.

What a Wonderful World

2010-04-22T09:37:00.009-04:00

It has been such a hard eight days (see my previous post) since George died last Wednesday.

I have never seen so many people come to a wake in my life - well maybe a President's or Elvis'. Easily two thousand people. The Knights did a service, the Priest did a service, the Fireman did their send off -- all at the wake. The funeral director, one of George's best friends, was talking to another one of George's best friends (apparently George had many best friends)...and they were saying that people were going to start showing up to the church at 8 a.m. to get a seat - his funeral was at 9:45. The police allowed double parking for the family. The church was packed beyond capacity. It was a beautiful service and much to the Father's dismay another of George's friends sang his favorite song "What a Wonderful World". There were over a dozen clergy there.

They closed off the Cross Island Parkway and Southern State to allow the funeral procession. We were dumbfounded.

George did much for the church, the community, his friends and family. He did much more than some of us ever knew.

It breaks my heart every time Andrew says these things "Uncle George, won't be at Aunt Nora's any more." "I wish Uncle George was still here." "Uncle George always yelled DON'T CRASH! DON'T CRASH! when I played my video games." "I'll send a kiss up to heaven." "Will Uncle George still know who I am when I get to heaven?" "Will Uncle George still love me?" He came home tonight and went to the fridge where there is a picture of Uncle George holding him and kissed Uncle George. Breaks my heart.

Tuesday morning Andrew had his "Clean and Green" show at school - so adorable. We cried because it was sad knowing that George won't be there for his First Communion, Confirmation, graduations...when they sang What a Wonderful World - I lost it. This video is of Andrew singing Baby Beluga with his group - of course he is the kid behind the microphone.

Uncle George

2010-04-15T08:29:00.008-04:00

My husband's sister, Nora, and her three children lost their husband and father yesterday. Very suddenly. He was Andrew's uncle and Godfather. Andrew was very sad when I told him. He said, ‘let’s get over there and feel them better’ – that is not a typo. He always gives me a kiss to “feel me better”. After he had a tantrum because we couldn't go over (Nora was headed to the funeral home) he wanted to call Aunt Nora but then froze on the phone. Later he said, let’s say a prayer for Uncle George and we said the Our Father and he came up the idea that he would share his daddy with his cousins. He asked me a few times "are you sure about Uncle George?" and unfortunately I had to say "yes".

There are so many things you can say about George. He was a man of medicine, a great husband, wonderful father and a “there when you need him” friend and even when you didn’t think you needed him – he was there and you KNEW it.

George didn’t know this – no one but Jim knew this – but I wanted George to walk me down the aisle when I married Jim. Jim didn’t want anyone else’s feelings to get hurt (especially his brother) – so he thought it was best if I just didn’t ask. Odd even then I knew people felt safe around George and I would have felt safe being on his arm and not so alone as none of my family was there for me.

George was a good man and everyone loved him - his colleagues, friends. A good man who would do anything for anyone – like drive in from Kings Point into Long Island Jewish when my little boy (his godson and nephew) had to get stitches in his two year old head and I was beside myself, come to our house to listen to Andrew’s chest when I’d get worried, run the St. Gregory’s festival every year even with his exhausting work schedule, volunteered at the Knights, coach sports, worked hard to give his children the best of everything and be there for family and friends during good times and bad.

George was the Pediatric Trauma Coordinator at Long Island Jewish. He was a PA and if you can judge a man by the number of people at his bed as he lay dying...there wasn't a better man. There must have been thirty people in tears at 8:57 a.m. when they stopped all measures - immediate family including Jim and I, doctors, nurses, hospital administrators. I know medical professionals work diligently to save every life - but this was above and beyond.

George was always the “hero” just like his father. Every time Jim and I went to Roosevelt Field we’d see Mr. & Mrs. Berry (George's parents) there – one day a toddler got away from his mother – everyone there – it wasn’t very crowded – got involved looking – guess who came around the corner holding the child -- Mr. Berry. At Andrew’s first birthday party and Elizabeth’s 21st (George's eldest daughter) birthday party, one of our friend’s children who was 4 at the time was struggling at the bottom of the pool – who jumped in and saved her – George. It’s in the Berry blood. Help people.

We will miss you George. Rest in peace.

Kindness and colons

2010-04-08T17:34:00.004-04:00

Today I baked peanut butter cup brownies for the pediatrician's office and for the tech at the pharmacy - who always remembers my name. She is kind. Even when she is stressed out and might not be grinning ear to ear - she is always attentive. I wrote her a note that read something like this:

Thank you for always being kind. When you give birth and are hopelessly in love with a person with autism sometimes life is hard. Some days your kindness is just what I need. (Or something of that nature.)

She called me an hour later to tell me they were delicious and that if there is ever anything she could do to let her know. I told her she already does enough and then asked her about babysitting this weekend. "I have a customer," she said before I heard the dial tone. :-)

People are so busy and I'm sure she sees hundreds of customers a day and it is nice to see someone other than myself who has a memory (sorry not tooting my own horn - I just have an excellent memory and I would totally score on that Instant Recall game on GSN). Granted I am at the pharmacy two or more times a month and then there are times I'm there two or three times a week (when Andrew gets sick they switch around antibiotics) but she just remembers me and it is refreshing.

Lots of things coming up. Bryan's 25th birthday (holy crap). Good thing I had him when I was 12 or I'd be stupidly old now. Jim's 45th birthday. Seventy five cross cookies to bake and decorate for Flo's great nephew's communion. Andrew has a play on the 20th that I have to decorate a T-shirt for - I'm going to draw the globe in a heart shape - it's all about loving our earth. Jim goes back to the sleep apnea doctor to get his anti-stop breathing contraption and then on the 19th of May - he'll go to Johns Hopkins to the colo-rectal cancer risk assessment clinic to get their opinion about his genetic testing. He's already past due for his colonoscopy - he drives me nuts with his procrastination. Last freaking April he got those genetic tests and he is still dilly dallying. I swear to God - if he dies on me - I'll kill him.

Andrew is so-so. He hasn't hit me yet today and it's 5:57 p.m.! Score.

Easter was nice. Andrew had a hard time at church but we survived. After we came home and packed up the goodies to take to Aunt Peggy's -- we decided to stop at the cemetary before going straight to Peggy's. We picked up some flowers and Andrew picked out red carnations for Nana, GrandDad and Aunt MaryEllen (all in the same grave) and he picked out pink carnations for Aunt Peggy (because I told him - it will be nice to get Aunt Peggy some flowers too). He gets in the car and says so sadly, "But I didn't know Aunt Peggy died." Poor kid thought because we were getting flowers for Peggy she must be dead! We had a laugh about that one and I made a note - more flowers for people when they are alive! (Hear that honey? Jim??? Flowers - remember those?) Forget the flowers - just get your colon situated. Oh, you know what I mean.

It's the little things

2010-04-07T14:48:00.004-04:00

So far today is a good day.

His teacher said he did much better today. While walking to the car I went to grab his elbow (we can't hold hands anymore - he told me yesterday "you feel Irish and I'm American" -- at least I'm my true nationality now - before he said, "you feel Chinese") -- he said, "no mommy I want to hold your hand". It felt like someone gave me a winning lottery ticket. The hand holding lasted 15 seconds. That was just fine with me.

I keep on waiting..waiting on the world to change

2010-04-06T08:50:00.005-04:00

I'm lost and second guessing myself.

To me (and my husband) Andrew's regressions: his screaming "you are an idiot" to a kid that gets too close to him on a rope structure at the Bronx zoo, his slapping me in the face when I chase him down and hold an arm to tell him not to run ahead, his angry responses to friends and strangers alike, his hitting his friend in the back because he "misunderstood" that Timmy wasn't teasing him he was sing-songing about the Bug Carousel, his increased flapping, his S.E.V.E.R.E. anxiety about everything from the car window being rolled down, "please close the sunroof I'm scared", traveling on the highway, going on a bridge, going to school, going to church....I could list how things keep seeming to get worse for pages and pages but that would bore you (anyone? anyone? out there) and just increase my sadness.

Regina, my friend, and a special education teacher herself doesn't think this behavior is atypical - that all kids do this. I don't see all kids doing these things - am I blind and deaf to other children? I don't think so.

At church, Andrew actually kicks the seats in front of us if someone, particularly a child sits in front of him. I don't see other kids doing this - other kids are happy when a child sits near them - a partner in crime. Not my boy.

I guess I keep on waiting for my child not to be autistic. I keep on waiting on a miracle. The school psychologist when I spoke to her for five minutes this morning - left me feeling even more depressed. She was listening but not listening - because she was standing guard on the sidewalk. I suppose if your kid isn't ripping off another kids head - all is well. I keep waiting for that day to come. "Mrs. Hartin you were right - Andrew is very violent. Billy can't find his eye." I know they miss things, I've seen it myself and one day someone is going to get hurt. He's only five now (almost six) but soon he won't be a little big boy. He'll be a big kid who will hurt someone. Please don't let that happen Lord (are you listening God?).

Yes, he is respectful to the teachers. But not everyone in the world gets down to his level, talks all 900 number voice to him and understands how to deal with him. Another child, another adult -- they don't get it - they talk to him and they are likely to get a fistful of grubby fingers. The real world - people we got to get him ready for the real world.

I feel like I always have to be on. Again, Naomi Campbell's handler. I get so mad seeing other parents relaxed, talking to their family members and letting their children frolic and I have to be within a few feet to pull a child out of harm's way. It's mentally and emotionally exhausting but it is what it is.

Everyone I talk to about this PANDAS thing seems to understand only one compotent of the syndrome -- the OCD aspect -- (there are many if my reading and comprehension skills haven't failed me) - not that Andrew has been confirmed to have it - but it seems to me OCD can be described as doing one level on a Wii game over and over and over and over and over again - amongst other things. All I know that is when Andrew is coming down with something that causes a fever - for a week or weeks before - his autism really SHINES - which makes me think that he has something else besides the autism and ADHD issues - that when he gets a virus/bug that everything becomes worse and the pediatrician thinking the PANDAS type syndrome makes sense. (To clarify - I know without a doubt Andrew has Asperger's - no questions - but I believe something else also kicks in before he gets sick - something that ups the ante.)

Andrew has totally changed his eating habits. He can't stand any smells. He won't hold my hand anymore. I have to hold his covered sleeve. He freaks to high heaven when I have to change his clothes....here I go again boring you (anyone? anyone?).

I keep on waiting....

PS - As I re-read this I know I am ranting - but that is what I do best. :-)

I'm just normal....

2010-04-01T20:37:00.002-04:00

I have to post this before I forget.

My son told me this morning "Mommy, you aren't beautiful. You are just normal." Thank God - he didn't tell me I was monkey-butt ugly. That would have stung.

He is still sick - day four of a temperature - but today only got to 102. He is on antibiotics.

He is still having big time sensory issues. Yesterday he said "Please Mommy don't touch me. I can't stand it when you touch me. You feel Chinese."

I said, "What? I feel Chinese?"

He said, "I don't care for Chinese."

I think he meant the food and not the people but who knows. Mommy's little bigot.

Spoke to his neurologist - who is increasing his medication and adding "boost" dosages during the day. Going to start that next week when he returns to school. Praise the Lord! School. The most beautiful word in the English language.

What the hell is happening to our "utes"

2010-04-01T08:41:00.007-04:00

While watching Good Morning America this morning for a few minutes, I saw a segment about flash mobs. How social networks like Facebook, Twitter, MySpace can incite riots and have hundreds of people showing up to a "party" or a location and most times it ends up in violence and vandalism.

Take the parents in Boston who left for a trip to Paris and left their 18 year old son and a key to their home with a neighbor. Apparently, the 18 year old was "talked into" having a party - posted about it on facebook and then four uninvited guests re-posted it as a let's destroy this house event. You can read about it here:

http://www.cnn.com/2010/CRIME/03/25/party.vandalism/index.html

When you read what they did - I can't help but feel that they are animals. They should have to sit in jail for a day before bail is allowed and think about their behavior - is this not steps away from physically hurting people?

My God, I know this makes me sound old - but there is no way in hell even with all the modern conveniences we have now - would I have done this. My parents would have beaten the holy crap out of me. I was terrified of them but you know what - it made me a responsible kid and a responsible adult. My father put most of the fear in us. After he died, it was too late for my youngest sister. My mother let her go wild and now she is a crack addict. Just saying.

I think it is great that parents friend their children and children are comfortable to be themselves. BUT, do these parents have their heads in the sand?

Even kids in our neighbor at 10 p.m. and later - walk up and down the block screaming and yelling and tipping over trash cans, throwing pumpkins (in the fall), throwing rocks at cars, etc. Have they nothing better to do? These kids appear to be in the twelve to fourteen year range. If I even thought about knocking over some one's trash can - that belt of my fathers would have been all over my ass. But then again - I was allowed outside of our house alone after dark especially at that age.

I think kids need a little fear -- not of being beaten - but kids today just don't give a shit. They get whatever they want, they dont' have to work for it, there are no consequences, they have no conscious. I'm not saying every child is like this - but from news reports, my own observations ... it sure seems like more than not.

My oldest son will be 25 (yes, I have a 25 year old and a 5 year old - I wanted to be well rested before I had a second child) and he never did anything of this nature. In my 25 years of raising Bryan, I raised my hand to him maybe twice - once when he was ten and told me "f^%k you" - I slapped his face and he never said that again and I can't remember another time - but I want to be fair and say there were two times. I did feel like dirt after I slapped his face - but he wasn't allowed to talk that way and especially to his own mother. He still feared me. We played basketball, I had his friends over, we did fun things - but he knew who put butter on his bread and he never tested me. I'd have no problem with him spending a couple nights in jail - if he ever behaved like the animals in that Boston scenario.

This doesn't even take into account the bullying cases - the suicide in South Hadley, Massachusetts. What gets into a child(ren) that makes them be out and out mean to other humans. As adults - I can almost understand stress and pressure and telling someone to booger off and that they are ugly and you slept with their mama. But what causes teenagers to terrorize other teenagers. Not all of them were abused - don't give me that excuse. I had plenty of abuse as a child - not talking about beatings with a belt, but beaten over the head with a wire hanger and told by my mother not to tell my father or he'd get mad at her, made to stay in my bed for an entire weekend because I "did something wrong" - like asked if I could go on a school trip and other things I'd rather not mention here...and I didn't terrorize or abuse anyone else in my life. My husband begs to differ - but that is just nagging. :-)

PEOPLE pay attention to our "utes" - they are the ones that will be in charge of flipping our motionless bodies over every two hours so we don't get bed sores. Wake up parents of America (I'm not going international with my plea just yet)!!!

Now he sleeps....

2010-03-30T07:57:00.005-04:00

Yesterday felt like I spent six weeks in boot camp.

6:00 a.m. up; 6:15 he plays with legos; 6:25 he wants to play the Wii...6:30 he is screaming.

We went to the Long Island Children's Museum with Timmy and Regina. He was a wreck. I feel like the body guards for Naomi Campbell must feel - you never know when he is going to pounce except I don't have monetary settlements to offer - just "I'm sorry" "I'm sorry" "I'm really sorry."

He was bossy, defiant, in tears, hysterical in the climbing structure - he has wanted to conquer that for years and finally with his good pal Timmy's help - he made it through. Two LICM assistants, Regina and I - coaxing him through - me warning other children not to get too close (thank God he doesn't carry a cell phone). Then he wanted to do it again. Aww, here's my cell phone - just bludgeoned me with it - it's more humane.

We survived and went to Friendly's, to AC Moore and then returned to the safety of our four walls. Two hours later - he's burning up - 103 temp. We have a doctor's appointment this morning.

Andrew had a bad night - up six times - burning up at 4 a.m. - gave him more Motrin and now he is sleeping in my king sized bed and I'm shell shocked downing Diet Pepsi. It's hard being old and not sleeping. This was easier in my 20's.

It's been raining non-stop here for over two days. Makes me nervous after the last rains and all the trees coming down(but there were hurricane winds that helped that). We have a H.U.G.E. tree in our backyard - that tree comes down it will be bad.

On more popular news --- who would have guessed Ricky Martin was gay?

Addendum: My best friend, Tina, read this post and wrote me: "What Ricky Martin is gay?? I haven't gotten over Anderson Cooper yet."

Second Addendum: Our pediatrician has told me about PANDAS (see below) - Andrew's Asperger symptoms always become so much worse right before an illness. I've called several pediatric psychiatrists - no one takes insurance - waiting for two more to call back. Yeah, whoever said health insurance or health care is the answer to America's problems - we have it - and it's still a nightmare.

http://intramural.nimh.nih.gov/pdn/web.htm

Not peach like me....

2010-03-28T19:34:00.007-04:00

Last week we went to the circus. Andrew was somewhat excited to go. We went with our good friends Tim, Regina and Timmy. The kids had fun at Burger King - playing in the germ infested maze-of-illness and then we headed to the Coliseum...the one located in Nassau.

We toured the tired, listless animals. They had already done a show and they were napping. I was jealous - I wanted to be napping. We went through the expensive maze-of-cheap-ass lighted toys they force feed you - at $21.00 a pop. I'd buy my kid anything he wants - but I'm not buying him a piece of crap designed to annoy the hell out of everyone that sits in back of you (and thank God Regina felt the same way). No, thanks. We can annoy folks without a light show and without spending an extra $21.00. We are the frugal annoyers. The folks in front of us bought each of their three kids -- two light toys (that's $42.00) and a unicorn snow cone (that's $11) and that isn't counting the popcorn, pretzels and other treats. What's in their wallet?

Andrew did great until the lights went out - then he cried off and on - and wanted to leave. Jim and I really enjoyed the show - and Andrew did enjoy parts of it. He basically wanted to go home. When he tells everyone about the circus, he mainly says that he and Timmy played tag outside and climbed a big rock. Kiss that $150 in ticket prices goodbye. So long. Farewell.

Later while looking at the pictures I took - I got a great one of Jonathan Lee Iverson - the amazing Ringmaster who is I believe the first African American Ringmaster. I showed Andrew the picture and I said - "this is a picture of the Ringmaster - wasn't he amazing?" To which Andrew responded, "No, he isn't peach like me." What the hell!!! Where is he getting this peach, brown crap. We don't talk that way - we have friends that are different colors of the rainbow. Is he watching All in the Family on TVLand?

We had our talk again about how people's colors, size, gender...don't matter that we are all the same. Dear God, I'm not going to let him put a sheet on his head anymore and play ghost.

He's having a really hard time. Bad reports from school. Yesterday at a birthday party - he had a tantrum big time, hit a friend and then screamed for cake like a barn-raised child. This behavior sent Jim into a funk. Andrew and I didn't even go to church today to give Jim a break from us. We're bad bad people...Andrew and I. Then, I took Andrew out shopping for a couple hours and while gone - semi-sweet Jim came back. I still got miles to go before I sleep.

I have a whole week and a day of planning activities for Andrew. Thanks to Regina and Timmy - we got a couple days covered...the rest is in God's hands.

Footprints in the sand....footprints in the sand.

Still alive....

2010-03-26T08:59:00.001-04:00

But just barely...

Andrew is having an awful time. I had meetings at the school and everyone told me that he is having a really rough week - spinning out of control (physically), very aggressive verbally with the other children....the lists goes on.

I have nothing funny to share. I do but I don't have the heart to write it.

Next week - he's off. I'm hoping to survive.

This just in....

2010-03-15T15:45:00.002-04:00

What a week, what a week.

I was bred for comfort. I cannot live without electricity. Twenty hours without power and we thought we were the equivalent of Haitian refugees. How the Ingalls did it -- I'll never know. I have to say - it must be the magic of television because their lamps sure did give off a lot of light.

Long Island had hurricane force wind gusts of 70 mph Saturday. Our power went out about 6:20 p.m. - right after I finished dinner and took a shower. While in the shower I yelled out to Jim to get the flashlight ready - because I had a feeling - and I didn't want Andrew to freak out - and freak he did -- Rick James freaky. He was terrified for us to light candles (fire) but we calmed him down because it was better to fear the candlelight than curse the darkness. He was beside himself - terrified by the power outage, hiding under pillows. Trees were falling everywhere and many sirens and fire trucks going by. Thankfully, it wasn't too long before Andrew's bed time. He was asleep by 7:45 p.m. and Jim and I were asleep by 9.

Andrew woke up at 5 a.m. (we had the daylight savings time thing happening here so it was technically 4 a.m.) and told me that he wasn't scared of the electric being out because it really was night time. We snuggled and he went back to sleep until 8 (thank you Jesus).

I kept waking up - praying my little cable box light would be on - but no. Our power came on about 2:30 p.m. on Sunday - not bad in comparison to others. Andrew's school was closed due to power outage and no heat on Monday. Tomorrow if no power - the kids will be bussed to another location. I say bus them to Canada as long as there is school. Wednesday and Thursday are only 8 to 11 days for teacher conferences and this mother needs a break because Friday I am scheduled all day for special education meetings.

My 24 year old took the power outage the worse - he was distraught. He couldn't get anything done - his words (read: gaming). I offered him a book - he recoiled in horror.

I had a cookie and butterscotch bar order last week, meetings all day one day, cleaned Rosemary's house on Friday and this week I have a huge dessert order. I also sold two books for a total of a $100 last week - so it was a good week.

Off to finish dinner -- homemade sesame chicken, garlic broccoli and almond ginger rice. Smells good in here.

Loving me some Ben Franklin - fly that kite baby.

The Bachelor....Crazy Glue....and Life

2010-03-03T12:23:00.007-05:00

The Bachelor.

I will never understand how anyone can sit through that C R A P but then again I'm sure people can't understand why I love me some Golden Girls. Saliva swapping, hot tubs, pools, hotels....that crazy shit is on MTV all the time.

Speaking of crazy, yesterday Andrew hit me (regression is a bitch) and broke my glasses - I managed to keep them on my face most of the day -- then this morning made an appointment for an eye exam. I decided to try to crazy glue the arm back on since I was driving a good distance. Don't touch a paper towel if you have crazy glue on your fingers. Not good.

Managed to get most of the paper towel and glue off - but it was touch and go literally. After 20 minutes, when I thought the glasses were good and dry (decided to crazy glue the other side - I thought what the hell) - I put them on and got into the car. It was cold so I jacked up the heat.

All of a sudden - my eyes started tearing up because the crazy glue was becoming tacky again - and I couldn't see (fumes). Oh by the way, I'm on the Southern State doing 60 miles per hour.

I somehow made it to the Walmart Vision Center and after I parked - I tried to take off my glasses to wipe my eyes and one side is glued to my face. A little yanking and some skin later - I got them off. Who needs an expensive chemical peel. For $2.49 I have very fresh looking temple skin.

After my appointment, I looked around this two story Walmart - there is an escalator that takes the grocery cart up. Oh.My.God. I called Jim and said, "we have to bring Andrew here". Some parents take their kids to Disneyland - others to the two story Walmart.

Life is good.

Twitter Diarrhea...and other ailments

2010-02-26T19:00:00.006-05:00

Twitter diarrhea:

"I am standing in line at the Supermarket." (insert link to photo)

"Reading Enquirer, line not moving." (insert cover of Enquirer)

If you are writing twitter updates like those above, I'll pray for you - but have to unfollow you.

Facebook Fakes:

People who list 500 friends? No one has 500 friends - not even Jesus. I have 42 friends (I think) and some of those are even questionable. A friend is someone you would give a kidney up for - think about that before you hit "confirm". (I understand "fans" but "friends" - come on!)

I've been so busy with Andrew. He is coming out of the regression slowly but surely. Today he was almost himself. He still doesn't want to eat - and everything "smells bad" or "has slime" but today he ate a chocolate chip pancake (except for the one bite that had "slime" on it) for breakfast and tonight a hollowed out plain toasted bagel (except for the fourth of it that "smelled") and half of a yogurt collision thing-a-ma-gig. He won't eat a yogurt in a container - it has to be those damn tubes you cut the end off of .... but who cares as long as he eats it.

I got a cookie and butterscotch bar order from one of Jim's co-workers for next week - and I'm actually helping a friend who just had surgery - cleaning her house. She insists on paying me - and maybe this will turn into something else with her friends etc. If I could do three houses a week - that is grocery money. Her sister already wants me to clean her house as well. Jim says it's "beneath me". Come on - it's work - it's $20 an hour - while Andrew is in school and what is the difference between that and killing myself for a Manhattan attorney for $30 an hour (before taxes, railroad, subway and clothing expenses deducted) -- getting his coffee and picking up his Viagra so someone could get beneath him. Work is work baby.

I'm wearing Milkbone underwear.

2010-02-22T08:42:00.006-05:00

No. More. Dogs.

Wishbone is now under the care of Jim's cousin, Francie. She has three kids and two dogs...but because she didn't want Andrew to suffer further she told me that her friend Trisha wanted the dog. It was just a ploy to get us to bring the dog to her because she knew we wouldn't burden her with it...but after driving out to her house - she changed her story. She does say she has a few possible good homes in mind.

I'm mad at myself and aggravated with the breeder. Before committing to purchase and even after, I wrote her several times and even sent her the blog post about Andrew's allergies to dogs. She assured me that golden doodles were hypoallergenic and we would have no problems. If there was a doubt in her mind, she could have taken the high road and said - you know, maybe you should wait and get an older golden doodle after puppy shedding has occurred or kids with severe allergies should really not bother with dogs. I blame myself too because after further research - I learned those things myself.

Originally the picture she presented us with - the dog had a different type of coat. Wishbone had fur. She said the original dog - had a leg problem and offered us a dog from another litter. I should have said - we'll wait. Because in hindsight, the first dog's coat - looked like something a neighbor's dog has that Andrew doesn't seem to have a problem with - but then again - he only spends ten minutes a month with that dog.

After the dog arrives here and we spend two terrifying days with Andrew's reactions, we decided to board him to monitor Andrew's situation. Andrew improves and the doctor said it was allergies not an infection or virus and gives us an Inhaler for an emergency.

The vet tells us that Wishbone has round worms and some other parasite which had to come from the breeder. We had picked the dog up Saturday night late - and this was Tuesday morning when we found out about the other problems. A $200 vet bill later....added to a $625 dog plus money spent for Andrew's doctor, the pet supplies...we're well over a $1,000 for this dog...and trust me we don't have a $1,000 to throw away. By the way, when a vet quotes you $24 a day for boarding....it's like buying a car for $10,000 - if you want the tires, steering wheel and windows that go up and down (thanks Linda for the window line) - you have to pay three times that amount.

I wrote the breeder and she blew me off. "We were praying it would work out" and not a word about the worms and parasites. I was praying she would at least offer to refund part of the dog cost...it isn't realistic that she would want us to ship the dog back - that would be another $200 out of our pocket to ship it back. Didn't make sense.

A word of advice to parents of autistic children who have moderate to severe allergies - investigate long and hard about dogs. Have the child spend a good amount of time with the animal before committing. One of the most frightening parts of this experience was watching the allergies trigger severe regression. Andrew is high functioning. Andrew is loving and cuddly and responsive. Once the allergies kicked in, Andrew did nothing but flap, pace, zone out, not respond to us and screamed when we tried to touch him. (FYI, Andrew cannot take any allergy meds - he was on Claritin and various other medications for his seasonal allergies and he became extremely violent. We can't give him any cough syrups or allergy time meds and frankly he takes medication for the Asperger's - I'm not medicating him so he can have a dog.)

I'm not saying that this could happen to you - but just take your time. I jumped on a chance to give my son a dog and ended up making a costly and scary mistake.

Lastly, extra special thanks to Francie - you are the best. Thanks to Pete and Linda who called us repeatedly with offers to take and raise Wishbone for a year, a couple years or forever. If they didn't live in Charlotte, we would have maybe taken them up on the offer. We could have sent them a monthly stipend - like we do for our CRS kids - just 30.00 a month and you can feed a golden doodle. Thanks to Bev, Laura and Tina who were furious for me and thanks to all our other friends who were listening to me rant on Facebook and on the phone. Now, if someone would just volunteer to take my 24 year old son.....hmmm.

Oh my God, I'm an idiot.

2010-02-15T19:48:00.005-05:00

#1. Who gets a puppy in February in New York?

#2. Who gets a puppy on top of the responsibilities of raising a child with Aspergers?

#3. Who gets a puppy for a child with Aspergers who has severe seasonal allergies plus had a horrific reaction to a dog we tried to adopt months ago?

Me.

I do.

Please to meet you, it's me THE IDIOT or a mother who wanted desperately to make her little boy happy.

We picked up Wishbone on Saturday night - a cute golden doodle male who is 8 weeks old. This breed is allegedly hypo-allergenic - and low shed. On the car ride from the airport, Andrew starts breathing funny. By the time we get home coughing and sneezing.

I wrote the breeder and she suggested giving the puppy a bath. We did.

To cut to the chase, Andrew isn't better. He's worse. On top of the obvious severe allergy reactions - he is:

#1. Flapping 30 or more minutes each HOUR. Previous to the reaction - flapping maybe 45 minutes a DAY.

#2. Zoning out and not responding to us. No matter what Andrew is doing when I tell him I love him - he always responds back (I do this 20 times a day) the last two days - he responded once each day.

#3. Totally listless and not interested in anything even the puppy. Not eating - just miserable.

I think the allergy is draining him and making his Asperger symptoms worse.

So we are going to do the following;

#1. Have Wishbone boarded for 1 to 3 days – check Andrew’s progress ---

#2. Take Andrew to doctor to check – and make sure it’s not anything else – he’s on antibiotics for ear infection – so I don’t think so – i.e., no fever.

#3. If Andrew gets better with Wishbone gone – we will be 90 % confident it’s the dog. We’ll get the dog back try for a day or two – if Andrew starts up again – the dog has to go. We know someone who trains Golden Doodles for assistance dogs here on Long Island (found out about this after we signed an agreement to buy this puppy) and we’ll donate the dog to them.

Andrew is upset that we're taking the dog to "doggy daycare" but also is so wiped out that he isn't crying about it. He is also a little afraid of the puppy -- the puppy is WILD - and we're working on correcting that behavior. I've read every site and taken all my wonderful friends suggestions.

I haven't slept in two days - so excuse any errors.

Oh God Oh God Oh God - I'm a Hoarder....

2010-02-09T08:45:00.007-05:00

I'm not one of those messy keep-every-wrapper-and-trash-piled-up-everywhere kinda hoarder but a hoarder nonetheless. I'm the worst kind - I'm a closet hoarder! (not to be confused with Tiger's affliction).

"Hi, I'm Jenny and I'm a Hoarder."

I have way too much stuff. But I so love my stuff. Free stuff, cheap stuff, expensive stuff...I'm all about stuff.

I have 30 plus rolls of Wilton parchment paper because it was 99 cents a roll at the 99 cent store. Not just a regular roll, but a DOUBLE roll! I can mummify my entire extended family with parchment paper and still have rolls left. (That doesn't count the 300 sheets of already pre-cut 9 x 13 parchment sheets I have or the 500 parchment triangles....) Oh God...I'm a hoarder.

I have analyzed myself and my condition. It comes from being dirt poor as a child and not having anything. My pantries are stocked for a snow storm of Little House on the Prairie proportions (Thanks Susan Flanagan for that line). My freezers are so full -my poor husband who loves his ice has to spend fifteen minutes to find the trays. I have easily a thousand cookbooks. I have enough cake supplies and decorating supplies to make Cake Boss look like a rookie. You need a Wilton pan - I got it - I have every wedding cake pan set there is. If they make another one - I don't want to know - because I'll have to have it. Cake stands...don't even get me started on cake stands.

All this being said, I'm getting better. I have started to STOP with the buying, double think each purchase and have actually started giving away some of the items. I have all kinds of conditions though - someone must really love the item and will treat it with the reverence it deserves. I'm like a pet adoption agency - you have to prove to me that you are deserving of my item and if you decide you don't want the item, you must return it to me so I can find it a good home.

Do they make a patch for this?

God help us....

2010-02-01T11:52:00.003-05:00

So every day since Sadie http://tiny.cc/KJF8O , Andrew has said that he wants a dog. He even says, "I can't wait to get to heaven because then I can have a dog." He is totally obsessed about heaven and death and believes that in heaven we get our hearts' desires. (No, I'm not training him to be a terrorist - i.e., many virgins awaiting him....he has enough worries for a five year old and heaven should be a great place to go - full of puppies and Legos!)

Due to his allergies, we had to look into a hypo-allergenic dog and thank God that also means low shed. My good buddy, BevB http://bluecollardogtreats.blogspot.com/, sent me a link about assistance dogs. I checked out the site and the dog was a golden doodle (not a Drake's cake), a golden retriever and poodle mix. I did some research and found a nice site and really nice woman, Terry. http://www.fidnet.com/~daisypup/

To cut to the chase, this darling will be joining our family on February 13th.

Anyone with any house training advice, please comment -- I'm thinking lots of prayers and perhaps doggie diapers (I kid, I kid).

Pray for me....pray for me.

Memories...

2010-01-30T10:31:00.009-05:00

As I bake for Hospitality Sunday and mentally prepare myself for a Chuck E Cheese birthday party at two (three Advils and a two liter of Diet Pepsi, my drug of choice)....I was looking through some of my youtube videos and wondering why my husband always seems to have to work when there is one of these "events". And while browsing through my youtube library -- I have about fifty videos there (icywit is my user name should anyone like to browse), I found this one from two years ago:

How cute is that kid (and the husband isn't bad either)? My husband always says that my videos have a Blair Witch quality to them. To which I respond, "Hey, Blair Witch was wildly received."

Two years...I remember making this video. Time is going by so quickly. In a blink of an eye, I'll be posting about a wedding video -- no, no not my third wedding -- but Andrew's wedding.

Happy Saturday folks.

Update - 4:24 p.m. I would rather be the only woman allowed into Riker's Prison on conjugal visit day than to go to Chuck E Cheese on a Saturday.

Further update: Baked two things for Hospitality Sunday - and guess when Hospitality Sunday isn't until NEXT Sunday. Aggggrrrrrrhhhh. I swear I thought it was the first Saturday in February tomorrow.

What BROWN can't do for Andrew

2010-01-28T17:42:00.008-05:00

Every night since his birth we've been reading to Andrew. For the last three years, we've been reading a minimum of thirty minutes each night. Perhaps this explains why he has been reading since age four - yes, I'm bragging. After reading, we say our prayers and we recite the Pledge of Allegiance. Since age three Andrew has been able to recite the Our Father and the Pledge of Allegiance.

Since the tragedy in Haiti, we've been adding to our good night prayers "Dear God, please help the people in Haiti. Give them food and water and shelter and keep them safe. Thank you God for all you give us."

It is no secret, Jim and I have desperately tried to have another baby. We've talked of adoption but not even worrying about the cost - how could I, or Jim, travel to China or another country three different times (a requirement). I cannot leave Andrew (it is hard on any child to be separated from his mother but Andrew's anxiety would be tripled) and Jim being able to take off work is extremely difficult.

I've heard talk that adopting from Haiti now has been simplified.

Andrew had two doctor's appointments today. His pediatric neurologist to review his medication and progress and then his regular pediatrician to check his ear infection and do a tympanogram and get phase II of the swine flu shot.

While waiting in the pediatrician's exam room - we had this discussion - verbatim:

"Andrew come here please I want to ask you a very important question."

I pull him in my arms and say, "What would you think about us trying to adopt an orphan from Haiti?"

"You mean like get him."

I replied, "Sort of, we would make them a part of our family to love and he would live with us." (I don't know why Andrew thought it would be a "him".)

"I guess I'm okay with that as long as he isn't brown."

"What do you mean? Your friend Ryan is brown. Our President is brown. Many of your friends in class are all shades of brown." (after I pick myself up off the floor)

"I know...but I don't care for brown."

"Andrew, people aren't colors - we can't judge a person like that."

"Well, okay if you want to but I won't spend a lot of time looking at him if he is brown - I like lighter colors."

PLEASE NOTE: No one that lives in this household has a racist bone in their body, nor have we ever referred to anyone as "brown" or "white" or even "African American" or "Caucasian". So where he got this from it puzzling.

So a few minutes ago, I asked "Andrew what did you mean about your brown comments because we don't like people based on their skin color or what they look like."

"I know that."

"So what did you mean?"

"It's okay if you want to get a brown orphan that's okay. But if he won't play with me, we have to return him." (I held in a laugh. Then a light clicked on.)

"Andrew, are you trying to say that some of your friends that are brown or tan don't play with you at school?"

"Yes, sometimes they don't play with me and it hurts my feelings."

Thank God, we didn't raise an Archie Bunker.

UPDATE: Adopting from Haiti is still an arduous process. If we had started the paperwork a year ago, they might have rushed it through but now there are so many displaced people that they are being extra cautious declaring children as orphans and they are diligent in stopping possible child-sex trafficking rings (which is very smart).

There's Ziti in My Bag....

2010-01-26T08:20:00.002-05:00

My husband never fails to remind me that he lived over thirty years before he found me and did fine. (But when someone forgets one of his friend's or relative's birthdays - it's "my" fault.)

My husband got himself ready for work this morning. I usually pack his backpack and warm up the car to make life a little easier for him. He leaves the house at 6:45 a.m. comes home at 9:30 p.m. and then works an hour or more after he eats dinner at 9:45 p.m. And trust me - he isn't doing the Tiger dance unless he's doing it at his desk in the middle of a bank - because he is always at his desk and he wants to hold on to all the parts that God gave him.

This morning he left at 5:30. I was too tired to get up. I haven't been sleeping - Andrew has been having a hard time the last couple nights. This morning I woke up at 3:15 and really couldn't fall back to sleep so I laid in bed and dozed.

I asked if he was okay and needed any help at 5:15 and he said "no honey I'm okay". I reminded him to take his lunch (ziti) and I did hear the fridge open and close. I heard some other noises but I thought I was dreaming.

I get up at 6:30 and I notice a number of things - the paper* is still on the kitchen table (Bryan brings it in when he comes home from work at 4 a.m.), a wooden wall hanging is on the floor, Jim's pager is vibrating on the office floor, the Dorito's chip clip has exploded and bits of it are on the floor (related or not to Jim's departure is a mystery to me).....

I GoogleTalked with him this morning - I said, "you forgot your pager and paper, there is a wall hanging on the floor in the kitchen and the chip clip has exploded". He wrote back: "Yeah, AND my ziti opened up in my back pack and I just spent 15 minutes cleaning it out. The Z to the I to the M to the B." A second later, he wrote "There's ziti in my bag." "I'm a wreck without you."

I laughed so hard. There is a Phineas & Ferb episode where Candace gets squirrels in her pants and she sang this song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OID7gA8fcaw. Andrew loves this show and so do we.

I told Jim that this experience is a blog entry for sure. He asked that I not use his real name. I said, "Don't worry James F. Hartin - I won't."

*My husband loves his Daily News - he is George Costanza and reads it cover to cover.

A blast from the past

2010-01-20T06:56:00.005-05:00

Fifteen years ago I started seriously writing - I have pages and pages of material - one of my personal best (in my estimation) was a piece I wrote entitled Romance and Other Delusions. I wrote this over fifteen years ago - (1) this has nothing to do with my studly current and hopefully last husband and (2) I didn't edit for errors....have a laugh.

In my life I have had three great loves; to read; to write; and to rejoice in the sound of laughter. While I have nurtured two of my loves, sharing them with others, shamelessly flaunting them about; I have kept one, locked in a closet, alone and neglected. I've treated it as if it is forbidden; a love that no one must know about. Well, the time has come to go "public"; I have decided to share my writing skill, or lack thereof, with the masses.

In the past, I have written for my own pleasure and as a deterrent to the high cost of psychiatric care. To begin my writing career, I first had to choose the type of writing I would attempt. I considered the various genres __ should I try my hand at science fiction, mystery or another type of fiction? After weighing the pros and cons of each genre, the only choice for me was romance.

Since I have made and shared my decision with a few of my close friends, I have been asked why romance? The answer is as follows: I have always chosen the road that presented the most challenge. I chose a genre which would be most arduous. That is the reason I chose romance.

Romance, in all actuality, is a delusion and delusions are my specialty -- after all, I think I've been happily married for ten years. Romance, love and sex are foreign to me -- romance having been evasive, love hiding right behind romance (wherever the hell it is) and sex, well I just don't understand what all the hoopla is about.

One might venture to say that it couldn't be possible for a 30 year old woman in this day and age to make that type of statement. In the pages that follow I have recounted various experiences of my life as proof of my statement.

Regarding romance, love and sex, I have had a minimal amount of technical experience and no objective experience. Romance and love I can at least understand. Sex, to me, is like parallel parking or programming the VCR, no matter how many times I've attempted those tasks, I haven't been successful -- either I hit the car in front or back of me when I try to park or I miss the program I tried to tape. I have the same result with sex -- hit and miss.

Perchance my confusion with sex stems back to my mother's wise and carefully planned talk about how babies are made. I quote, my mother, July 31, 1978 2:00 p.m. "Well you see, he puts his thing in your thing and that's it." The word sex or the proper name for body parts were never mentioned in our home. I didn't know what things were but I sure as hell was going to stay away from them.

My father was as helpful as my mother. He died five days before my high school graduation being selfish even in death. Had he one ounce of compassion he would have died a year prior to my graduation allowing me to possibly enjoy life as a "normal" teenaged girl. Maybe then I could have gone to a movie or even a dance or game, but no -- he clung to life right until the end of my senior year. There were boys in high school that asked me out and flirted with me but there was absolutely no chance of being allowed to accept an invitation. My sisters and I weren't even allow to have a girlfriend over or to go visit their homes. Thus, I didn't have all the secret talks girls have about boys. I was kept blissfully ignorant with only my mother's explanation to go on and my parents shining example of love, romance and happiness. Some examples might be found in the physical abuse, abuse of alcohol and prescription medication and the countless trips to the psychiatric floor for my mother.

After my father died my mother went 'man crazy'. If it had testicles and a pulse, it was fair game (sometimes she was lenient with regard to the pulse). Perhaps what caused her sudden attack on anything male and breathing was partially caused by my father. It may have been my father didn't pay much attention to her or maybe he never put his thing in hers after us kids, but who knows. After he died, a turnstile was installed in her bedroom and plans are in the making for a sign that reads "Over 1,000,000 Served". I knew it was time to move out when I was awaken at the tender age of 17 by a burly truck driver asking me for a light. I immediately found an apartment as far away from my mother's house as possible because too many "things" were going on there.

Several years ago she took to the personal ads having serviced all the men in the bi-state area. At one time she was involved with so many men from different parts of the United States, I had to remember them by the state in which they lived, I couldn't remember their names. "Hi, mom, how's Arkansas? Hear from Vermont lately?".

Now she is happily shacked up with a truck driver. She told me all about him over the phone - how wonderful he is, how handsome, he looks like Elvis... I met him recently. He may look like Elvis now if they yank his decomposed body out of his final resting place. In case you're wondering, my mother and reality have never met. His looks do not worry me in the least. It is the way he treats her that troubles me - barking orders, drinking, name calling. If I ever publish the romance I am working on, I will have to dedicate a portion of it to my mother for teaching me beyond a doubt what romance, love and sex are not.

Fortunately, for my sake, insanity skips a generation in my family. Having ruled out my mother's pristine example, I knew I had to learn about amour myself.

So, of course, I foolishly rushed into marriage to the first decent guy that came around. My entire adolescent I longed for a loving family. I wanted and would have a man who cherished me and placed me upon a pedestal. Jack (name changed to protect the guilty - his real name is Ron) professed his undying love for me and I thought I might not get another chance so I accepted. I told him of my total lack of experience and he told me wild tales of his escapades and vast experience with the fairer sex.

Knowing nothing about the workings of the male mind or for that matter any of their other organs or appendages, when Jack and I first started dating I managed to keep him in line except for a few kisses and touches here and there (more here than there). My first clue that Jack may have exaggerated his extensive experience with females should have been when it took him twenty five minutes to try and unhook my bra. I had no idea why he wanted it off, because I was comfortable enough, and I didn't find out that night, because he gave up.

After a few weeks of dating, he got his courage up (so to speak) and began asking (pleading) me to do certain things to one certain appendage. I was shocked at the activity he wished me to perform. He actually wanted my mouth- the same virginal mouth that read at the altar each day at mass during my eight year incarceration at St. Mary's Catholic School - placed on his thing to coin my mother's terminology. If this is romance, I say forget it.

Thankfully I had crisis training, having worked at a hospital, so I told myself, at that time, to remain calm, not to make any sudden movements and to just smile politely and soon this totally deranged man would be out of my apartment. He had to be out of his mind to suggest that I do that to him. I momentarily thought about giving him my mom's phone number but I couldn't even do that to him and realistically the waiting line at her place was too long. So, after playing it cool I got him out of my apartment and bolted my door. I watched his car pull away (jotting down the license plate number just in case). After he turned the corner, I rushed to the telephone and called an older, married friend for comfort. Expecting to receive cries of dismay and words of comfort, I found myself the recipient of her hysterical laughter. After several minutes my experienced friend regained her composure and said, "Honey, they all want that."
MY GOD! Every man expected that! I was never to be safe. Well, I'd just have to join the convent; nuns didn't have to worry about those things. But after some deliberation, I voted against a celibate life with Our Lady of Perpetual Hope. I had waited too long for love, I'd take my chances with the mad man. I decided to see Jack again and exercise extreme caution around him. Since then I have resigned myself to excuses to avoid that particular activity. I've had a sore throat since 1983.

After a lengthy six month courtship, Jack and I got married at the courthouse in our small town amongst cries of horror from his mother. We could hardly hear the Judge due to her incessant wails. You would have thought he was being sent to the gallows instead of marrying sweet virginal me. Well, it seems I wasn't good enough for her baby since she had come to the conclusion that I was a slut. Me, the closest thing to Doris Day in Illinois, promiscuous! She thought I had snared her little angel with my womanly wiles and holding him prisoner with nights of unbridled passion. She had reached the conclusion that Jack and I were sleeping together because each and every time he came over to my apartment he fell asleep, eating dinner he fell asleep, watching television he fell asleep, talking with our friends he fell asleep. See Jack tired, see Jack sleeping, see Jack comatose. There was no way I could wake him either, for once Jack is catatonic there is no hope for consciousness until morning.

Back to the ceremony -- when the Judge threatened to remove her from the room, Jack's loving mother quieted down long enough to allow the Judge to finish the ceremony. Jack promised me a lavish dinner at a fancy restaurant and what I got was homemade barbecue at his parent's cabin (Broken Promise Number 1). I couldn't eat anyway, I was so worried about the wonderful night ahead that he promised me (Broken Promise Number 2).

After two hours of procrastination, I finally found the courage to leave the bathroom and enter the bedroom. I was terrified. After all, he had done this many times before and I was going in there a rookie, not even warming up in the bull pen. I had all sorts of doubts about myself. Would I be any good? Would he be happy? Would I do something wrong? I didn't know.

Exactly fifteen seconds later (with barely an impression in the mattress where I lay), I knew. There was one thing for certain. He lied. He had no more experience than I. I wasted two hours of "prime time" television delaying a major milestone in my life for fifteen seconds of "making love". Jack sure didn't think much of love for he didn't make much of it.

I'm pretty sure we consummated our marriage that night although I'm not positive. Wasn't there at least suppose to be pain? Perhaps my husband believes in the theory that some mothers practice when pulling a bandage from one of their child's limbs, if you pull it off quickly the pain is momentary. That was it, he was trying to protect me. Well, I need no man's protection. I want the pain. Feeling something, no matter if it was pain, was better than feeling nothing at all.

My fervent prayer is that all men aren't so considerate. I hope there are some men who are heartless and can control their bodies and inflict hours (okay minutes, remember I hope to write fiction) of pleasure on their women.

The problem I see is that men are always trying to save time. They know a short cut for everything. A short cut across town, a faster way to do the grocery shopping, etc. Even my employer, a man, is constantly trying to find ways to save time in everything including word processing. When I roll my eyes at all his suggestions for speeding things up, he tells me each time, "Just trying to save strokes." Aren't they all.

Now my dilemma begins, how can I write a sensual scene when I wouldn't know an orgasm if it came up and introduced itself. I'm sure the publishers at Harlequin would reject my manuscript due to the repetitious use of the term "thing". I'm a modest, strictly reared, Catholic girl could I dare type the word nipple or worst yet shaft? The thought of putting adjectives before these words such as throbbing or heated breaks me out in a cold sweat. Poor Sister Mary Agnes is rotating like a rotisserie in her grave. "I'm sorry Sister. I know, five Hail Mary's. Yes and I'll go to confession."

So, I delved in and ordered How to Write Erotica and sent away for a list of "The Most 100 Sensual Words". (This cost me ten Hail Mary's). Now I have the manuals but I still have a problem. I have never been good with "how to" books. I have always learned better with hands on training. Hemingway wrote from real life experience, I would have to be a far better writer, I must use my imagination.

When writing a romance you must have a dark, sexy, handsome, muscular man, well Jack is Howdy Doody without the benefit of Buffalo Bill. Jack is the silent type (note to reader strong is blatantly missing). He won't even give his order to a waitress at a restaurant he defers to me. Just recently, we went out to dinner with my in-laws and to my dismay I heard my mother-in-law order for her husband, too. Good Lord, it runs in the family, must be a defective gene pool.

Upon reflection, perhaps his lack of conversational skills around anyone other than myself is a protective measure, like quills on a porcupine. Jack doesn't have a firm grasp of the English language he refers unwittingly to his "genitals" as his "gentiles". I definitely have to create my hero from scratch. My hero will be based on no one I know.

Second thing you need for a romance is a beautiful, innocent heroine. Easily done.
Step three is passion. Big problem here folks. As for passion, even after ten years of practice, my idea of good sex is dictated by the fact if I'm still awake when he is done. But then how could I fall asleep when I hadn't even had time to take my glasses off? There is a story about a ball player who was so fast that when he would turn the light off as he entered a room, he would be in bed before the room was dark. My husband should have been a ball player.

A rule to live by: A man who can't go the distance should never perform in a room with a digital clock. There are none in our bedroom. We also never frolic near the VCR or microwave unless, of course, it is blinking 12:00 .. 12:00 .. 12:00. Yeah, baby, time stood still for me, too.
Passion must be stoked by foreplay, yet another area in which I am uneducated. Jack's idea of foreplay is when he removes both his socks and his watch (non-illuminating face plate, of course). Having never experienced an orgasm myself, I was curious to at least know what a male's orgasm feels like. I've asked Jack several times what does one feel like and his answer is that it feels like a release. Bodily functions can feel like a release I would like a little more detail please. Perhaps I've had one and missed it. It's hard to catch a bullet.

It scares me to say this, more than anyone could ever know, but the more I think about it maybe my mother was speaking the truth in her description of sex he does put his thing in my thing and that is it! In the movies I see repetitive movement. Richard Gere call my husband.
Once my husband talked me into having sex in the morning before he went away for the weekend with our son fishing (yes my husband's parts are functional he's fast but effective). It took some coaxing people aren't suppose to have sex in the daylight, you know, but it was worth it to get them out of the house for two days.

In the middle of the "heated" (there, I used it) action (approximately thirty seconds in) I started screaming. He was proud and beaming. Nine years of hard work (an investment of one hour and two minutes total time) and he had finally given me the ultimate gift. He gave me a leg cramp. I was trying to roll over and tell him okay we could do it and he caught me in midroll with my leg twisted. It broke my heart to tell him the truth, but if he thought he had succeeded well it wouldn't be fair. He wouldn't reach for the gold, he would never build up endurance. He had to know the truth. Didn't he?

But, I let him have his delusions too. Every year on his birthday I give him a couple of "oh babys". Lucky for him I talk fast if I stuttered or had a sexy, southern drawl he would barely get an "o"___. Before I receive countless letters from sex therapists worldwide explaining that it isn't healthy to fake an orgasm __ STOP. I am a writer not an actress. Even Jack knows the difference between an 'oh baby' and the wailing and screeching made in the thralls of passion. Another note to any therapist with their pens poised, Jack doesn't have a medical problem and I am a warm and loving wife. Jack has no desire to master an activity in which he, alone, attains satisfaction.

In an effort to provide him with some assistance, I purchased How to Satisfy a Woman Every Time and Have Her Beg for More. Allegedly this book guarantees successful results. I marked the sections he should first read quietly to himself, then read out loud for maximum comprehension. After he was finished, he was requested to come immediately to bed to practice what he read before all the details would escape him. With what appeared to be crib notes in hand, he began. Let's just say I've returned the book to get my money back.

Recently, I had a reunion with a few friends (two males and one female) from my single days. The subject eventually rolled around to sex. These males boasted about their prowess and how they always satisfy their women. Of course! It is always the men you haven't been with or will never be with who are good. Not that I believe their tales, I'm from Missouri "show me".

Obviously my life's experience in the romance department is lacking. Accordingly, I must rely on the many wonderful love stories I have read to conjure up the feelings of a woman satisfied. This wasn't going to be an easy task, but I knew that going in. Good things in life are worth working hard for. Wine improves with age, perhaps Jack will. If not, perhaps Our Lady of Perpetual Hope will still have a bed for me. I'm as close to a 30 year old virgin as they are going to get.

With trust in my God-given talents, those being imagination, strength and patience and dismissing anything I learned from my family or husband, I penetrate (good word) the unknown confines of romance. I now know what Columbus felt like sailing for unchartered lands. Romance take me away!

Enter a tall, dark, virile hero. Perfectly muscled, gallant and bronzed. He gathers his beautiful heroine in his strong arms and whisks her away to a night of passion. She, of course, is a virgin and he, of course, erupts multiple orgasms on this her first encounter.

They find themselves forced apart. Just when you fear there is no hope, that they must live a life apart yearning for each other, fate strides in and brings them back together for a lifetime of romance, love and unquenchable passion. He spends his days worshipping, protecting and dwelling on her every word as she does for him. This is how it should be and this is how it will be at least in my mind and in my heart.

That is why I chose to write a romance.

Exit Howdy Doody.

You are uninvited....

2010-01-18T16:10:00.002-05:00

Do you ever invite people for dinner and then the day of the dinner have no desire to cook, clean...and seriously ponder the ramifications of pulling out the paper plates and throwing down some KFC. KFC yeah you know me. (BTW, I hate KFC. I also hate abbreviations).

Gotta run - company is coming in fifteen minutes and I did cook. Two bacon roasted chickens - courtesy of Nat at Hot Off the Garlic Press (http://hotgarlic.blogspot.com/2009/08/bacon-roast-chicken.html), roasted garlic potatoes, honey glazed carrots and egg noodles (my husband not a big potato fan).

I'll also serve the Drunken Layered Apple Cake I made this morning from Warm Bread and Honey Cakes (a new favorite cookbook). I made two cakes this morning one for my brother in law's birthday and one for tonight. Andrew and I delivered the cake this morning. (I made two little mini cupcake size cakes and had one and it is flipping fantastic.)

Flo and Rosemary are bringing bread and a cake as well (no fruit for my hubby) but in case they mess up - I have brownies left over from yesterday too.

Time to get out the real glasses.

Happy Monday.

Does this ever happen to you?

2010-01-15T09:29:00.004-05:00

I tell my "grown" son to stop dirtying so many dishes....he eats more times a day than Heidi Montag has plastic surgery. I plead with him to at least rinse a bowl out once in a while....but in response to that plea - and to avoid washing a dish....he dissects the milk carton with milk still in it (1/4 of the gallon left).

I gave birth to someone who would do this.

Feliz Navidad

2010-01-15T07:34:00.002-05:00

Just a quick post.

Years ago when Jim and I would sing along to the radio to songs - any songs...we'd make up lyrics for parts we didn't know - or couldn't understand or we thought was funny.

One of these was - Feliz Navidad. The song's lyrics are:

Feliz Navidad
Feliz Navidad
Feliz Navidad
Prospero Año y Felicidad.

We'd sing...

Feliz Navidad
Feliz Navidad
Feliz Navidad
Somethin' in Spanish that we don't know...

I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas...

Well apparently Andrew has picked up our bad habit - he thinks the song really does contain: Somethin' in Spanish that we don't know instead of Prospero Ano y Felicidad.

7:30 Friday morning - he's singing the Hartin version in the living room.

Three little words.....

2010-01-13T11:38:00.006-05:00

I screwed up big time using three little words.

Andrew has been so obsessed with death and heaven lately. Last night while reading (we read every night without fail for at least thirty minutes), I had a massive headache. I mentioned to him that my head really hurt and to stop fidgeting around. He said, "Are you going to die?" I said, "No." (At least not that night).

I read a few more lines. Andrew asks, "When you die, will you go to heaven?". I said, "I hope so." As soon as those three words were out of my mouth I knew I had f'd up and royally. "If you don't go to heaven, where else would you go?"

It isn't enough that my five year old Asperger's inflicted son worries about everything under the sun, I have to add to his ever increasing list of worries and anxieties.

I tried to explain that heaven was a wonderful place full of light and love and our family is there. Then I said to the best of my ability that there is another place that really evil, mean people go. It's dark and not very pleasant. To which he replied, "But mommy sometimes I'm mean."

I had to spend thirty minutes assuring him he could never be THAT mean.

(I had this in a comment but it helps explain Andrew a little better.) Monday we arrive at therapy at Hofstra University(we go to three sessions a week, one individual, two group) - I pulled in a spot and a sign said "Visitors Only Violators Will Be Towed"...he almost started hyperventilating. "Mommy, please, please, please back out and find another spot". (He's been reading since 3 1/2). Even though I told him we were a visitor and not a student and we were okay - he couldn't calm down until I moved. If we make a wrong turn when driving and someone slips up and says "oops we went the wrong way" - he becomes so worried "are we lost? are we lost?" He has finally stopped worrying about the "evil woman". Sometimes things take weeks/months to pass - sometimes days. It's a crap shoot

Tonight at book time he was extra nervous - kept sitting up. "Andrew what is wrong."

"I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"That dark place."

Three little words.

I calmed him down. We said our prayers and said a long prayer for the souls in Haiti.

Six followers...

2010-01-12T14:33:00.002-05:00

Half a dozen.

Wow.

Now I know how Pioneer Woman feels.

LOL

I've been wanting to post why my "blog name" is Andrew's Mom -- some of you may relate. Before Andrew - I was always Jenny (even with Bryan when he was little years ago - I was Jenny because I worked and didn't get to do all the wonderful things I can do now).

When Andrew and I started Mommy & Me classes, I was Andrew's Mom to all the other kids, at the park "Andrew's Mom"....so that made me choose the log in name Andrew's Mom.

My g-mail and twitter accounts are "IcyWit" because at one of my first jobs - Ralph Kalish - a wonderful man and lawyer told me I had an "icy wit" that I was funny and sharp and could be mean. He also told me that I gave looks that could turn someone to stone. I kinda liked that. So all my sign in names have been Icywit.

Now I'll have to enter the Witness Protection Program.

Enough Tales from the Hood....

2010-01-09T20:56:00.005-05:00

Scooby Doo (Andrew) and Shaggy (Jim) - after seeing me (the ghost).

We interrupt our special report "Tales from the Hood" ....

I apologize for the posts about the insanity next door. God knows I have enough insanity behind my own doors (well not near as juicy....)...

I promise no more talk "Neighbor Talk"....we're resume regular programming tomorrow....all Andrew all the time...with a side of Jim.

It's 9:07 and I'm going to bed. Del Boca Vista here I come.

The Neighbor

2010-01-09T18:41:00.005-05:00

Even though her cookies are shy a few chips and I think she is an emotional, disturbed mess of a person right now - the woman thinks I called Child Protective Services on her. I did not.

The husband who should pay me as his personal listening wench told me ten days ago that the Son's psychologist was going to file a report with CPS because the Son went into Wife's bedroom and she was allegedly drinking vodka and screamed "Get out!! Get out!!" Apparently, the Son informed his psychologist all about Sunday's Jerry Springer re-enactment and the ever shrinking bottle of vodka.

I really feel awful and sick inside. While she has her issues - I would never report her to the authorities. If I witnessed her abusing her Son, of course - I would do something - but I did, and would, not report her to CPS.

Her Son called his father (the Husband) and told him "Dad, Dad - tell Jenny to not say anything - Mom thinks she reported her to CPS." Husband and Son knows I did not - but apparently even though the Son said, "Dr. ____ did Mom" -- she doesn't believe it. The poor kid is still trying to protect me from his Mother's wrath.

If I ever become like that, I hope someone puts me out of my misery.

Andrew has seemed to settle down- he no longer cries about the crazy woman - although when Jim came home from work - they went downstairs and I heard Jim telling him that he doesn't have to worry - we would protect him. What's this "we" stuff - he works twelve hour days and then worked all day today, Saturday. I'm here fending for myself. I'm going to have to practice a routine to Kung Fu fighting.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HZGMVKaLLOI&feature=related

I have learned my lesson. Don't talk to neighbors. Ever. Again.

It's not safe to go to the bathroom...

2010-01-08T17:07:00.003-05:00

I go to the bathroom -- Andrew comes screaming - someone is at the door, someone is at the door.

I rush out and look out the window - crazy wife from next door and her hunchback neighbor friend are on my lawn. What in the hell?

They were screaming. I let them be. Jim isn't home and Andrew was scared - so I did not open the door.

Now Andrew keeps asking "will the evil woman come back?" He is so scared. I told him not to worry - now I think his nightmares this week have been because of the Sunday episode (see Exhibit A).

This is insanity. I'm moving to the country.

Nightmares...

2010-01-08T08:19:00.003-05:00

My baby woke up at 3:00 screaming. I went into his bed. That bed is torture - we went for the extra firm when we switched Andrew from a crib to a big boy bed because that is the recommendation (it's like the crib mattress) and we went full size because of the sleep issues (not often but enough). He wanted to get up at 3:30 - I said "no way only hookers are up at 3:30" (j/k). So he finally went back to sleep at 4:30 and I crawled back to my beautiful soft bed and my snoring bear husband.

At 4:40, Andrew screamed again for me. I woke up the bear (had beers with his friends -- and beers and friends makes the bear growl louder), "please just go get him, take him to the bathroom and bring him here - I can't lay down on that slab for another minute my back is killing me". So the bear, jumps up - turns on all the lights - and says "Andrew get up, get up." I scream, "For the love of God, do this quietly so he knows it is still the middle of the night and not reveille." Like Jim spent any time in the military - Major Payne.

Andrew comes up to cuddle with me. He tells me he had a bad nightmare, a mean man cut him in half and I came to heaven to find him. I comforted him - I told him I would never let anyone hurt him and if he ever went to heaven - I would come and find him and to not be scared.

I remember reading The Lovely Bones - it broke my heart...now I can't watch the previews for the movie - I'm sure it is a wonderful movie - maddening and heart wrenching - but I won't watch it. I cannot watch any shows, movies or read any books that have anything to do with a child being hurt or dying -- there are enough news stories that can wreck me - why should "entertainment" do that to me as well. I become totally without the ability to function. I have always been like that - remember decades ago when Jessica fell down the well...I couldn't go to work without the radio on - I had to know the moment that girl was safe. I became obsessed with the Caylee Anthony case and the Madeleine McCann disappearance.

Everytime I turn the shower on and the cold water comes out for a second, I think of Nixzmary Brown - remember that sweet little girl? Beaten and abused and held under the cold freezing water in the bathtub. For a long time I cried when the water hit me, now I just think of her and pray.

January cleaning....

2010-01-07T11:54:00.002-05:00

So since Monday I have:

taken down the ENORMOUS Christmas tree and put the Christmas decorations away -- lights are still outside - the last time I did that I ended up picking thorns out of my bum for weeks - it was not pretty and WTF (herein will mean White Trash Folk) leave them up at least until Valentine's Day;

donated several large bags to charity of Andrew's things;

donated six large bags of games, books etc. to a person on Craigslist;

totally organized the living room;

cleaned out the foyer and office closet;

working on the basement and other areas....

I'm getting there. I'm actually sore from this work. Which brings me to the following topic...I have to get busy - my friend and Eileen are challenging ourselves to lose weight....I myself have to get going or else run the risk of a small, perky, curly haired man in silk gym shorts will come a knockin (Richard Simmons).

Doing great so far. Approaching it differently. More on that later.

Lastly, the nerve of some people - yesterday a follower of this blog thanked me for the brownies I sent in to him - his goal is to gain fifteen pounds this year. I offered myself as a fat donor - but the nerve...the nerve to complain about being too skinny. Men will never learn.

Over and out.

Four...my numbers are going up

2010-01-06T11:02:00.002-05:00

just like the weeks after Tiger's accident...one, six, twelve...Jim said the numbers weren't going to stop until he got to 18 hos.

I got 3 followers! I got 3 followers!

2010-01-06T08:52:00.002-05:00

How depressing and exciting all at the same time!

Thanks Ankit - only had to beg for a few minutes!

Tell your friends...about my blog - where else can you get your daily dose of white trash all in one place????

You should see me leaving my house now - if Wife (see Exhibit A entry) is home - I do a criss cross pattern - on Two and a Half Men...Jon Cryer's character (I think) was involved with a less than sane woman and he did the bob and weave pattern across the room when he thinks she has a gun - it was very funny and I will see if I can find the clip. I figure if Wife is drinking and I'm a moving, bobbing target - my chances are better.

Can you hear the Green Acres theme music playing in the background???

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mbk81X6WHA4

Exhibit A

2010-01-05T08:53:00.006-05:00

I'm documenting this drama here --- in case I end up swimming with the fishes.....

Husband and Wife are getting a divorce - unfortunately our next door neighbors (why couldn't this shit be down the street.)

Husband is a nice guy (strange but a nice guy -- who isn't strange? me included).
Wife is unbalanced - always has been.

Wife had an affair. She announced she wanted a divorce after a family trip to DR. For four years since she started working (her choice because she had to get away from everyone) – she was seldom home.

After the divorce proceedings she decided she wanted custody of Son (10) and the house. Husband is wealthy.

She started lying – Husband was gay (not), Husband was a pedophile abusing their son (not – why would she go away for 4 days every weekend if her child was being molested??), and take two vacations away from the family by herself??? plus - Jim and I both trust Husband one hundred percent with our child...he is not a molester).

Wife hates me because we are on husband’s side. I sent him an e-mail (as he requested) about the gate being left open – they have a pool and I added about the noise happening after 8:30 at night from the swimming pool (we were promised that after dark – no swimming parties etc. when they put the pool in). Well, unbeknownst to me, Wife and Husband took that as she wasn’t out there monitoring two ten year old boys in the pool after dark (Husband was happy about that - more evidence). – That was not my intent – it was to please stop the screaming at my five year old child’s bedroom window. I don't care if kids play outside after dark - but it is NOT necessary to scream repeatedly - it's not - it's common decency and respect. And truth to be told, I don't care if someone drowns in their damn pool - my responsibility is to my family first and if I see a kid drowning or struggling of course I would help - but I am not Oprah. I cannot raise a Village of children.

She then got crazier – calling me names – etc. So then I got mad and realized she was even more crazy than I originally thought. On December 11th – I sent husband an e-mail (hoping he was in the neighborhood so he could come and witness this and get a coat on his son) that Son and son's friend were outside in the 27 degree weather from 9 pm until 10:45 p.m. with no coat – this was the day they were telling the homeless to get off the street because of the winds and cold -- our son was at Aunt Flo's house having a sleepover - first and only sleepover he has had -- so it wasn't that I was worried about noise - I was ironing and cleaning - I was concerned about the boys' safety.

She saw this e-mail – because while Husband was away with Son and Wife’s daughter and Wife's daughter's boyfriend – Wife had her boyfriend break into Husband’s bedroom office and she stole bonds and went through his paperwork etc. Bryan (my son) and Jim had to install a new door and lock because of this event. Yes, Husband locks his bedroom/office - to protect his information and himself at night. Wife locks the upstairs bathroom because she doesn't want anyone using it but her. Neither one will leave the house - I.N.S.A.N.I.T.Y.

SOOOO….

Sunday comes along and Husband wants to drive with Wife’s daughter to take the boyfriend back to school in Rhode Island (to make sure she is safe - winter weather - first time driving that distance etc.). He wanted to leave at 3 – but it was Wife’s night with Son – and she doesn’t get home until 4:30 (although while Husband was on vacation with the kids – she was home every day at 3:30). Anyway, Husband tried to switch days asking for Son on Sunday night - Wife said no. Husband wanted Son to stay with me until Wife came home. …Son wanted to stay here too – he didn’t want to go to Wife’s sister…etc.

Let it be clear that while Son was here - he said repeatedly he wanted his mother dead - Jim and I repeatedly told him to not talk this way about his mother - that she deserves his respect and love and that all this is temporary.

At 4:15 Son's phone rings – it’s Wife – she asked if he was at Mike’s (Husband’s friend) – Son said, “no mom Mike wasn’t home so I’m at Jenny’s”. Five minutes later she is banging on my door. I open the door and said Son will be right out –she screamed ‘I’ll stay out here’ (I thought of course you will crazy woman because I’m not inviting you in”.

Less than 5 minutes later, someone is knocking on my door – I open the door thinking it is Son (he forgot something maybe) and it’s her. She is screaming at the top of her lungs – "KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF MY SON – how dare you question my parenting skills. God bless you and your family and pick your friends carefully."

I go outside – and try to talk to her – she is hysterical – cussing, flinging her arms (neighbors across the street are watching at the window) – she said stuff about our autistic son – and that Husband says horrible things about our son and the sign in front of our house…(Autistic Child Area). She is whacked out. She tells us Husband talked about us all the time - etc. All the while - I'm thinking who the fuck cares - everyone talks about everyone. And truth be told - they could both disappear into the horizon and I wouldn't care.

Jim comes out and gets in her face and tells her to get off our lawn – they are screaming – Son is crying in the window – Andrew is on the porch screaming. I get Jim to go in after five minutes and I have it out with her. I ended up making peace because I fear for her son and my son. She smelled of vodka – she’s an alcoholic and pill popper. Towards the end of this – Son comes out and is crying and says, “Mom you can yell at me and scream at me but stop lying – you called Jenny a bitch and my dad an asshole and you say mean things about them.” And he went back into the house. He came out to defend me. Even then - even then - I yell after Son "it's okay _____ people say and do crazy things when they are upset". I told Wife to go in the house and take care of her son and to start acting sane.

Then she puts out her hand and hugs me.

She said she would never yell or hurt Andrew – I said “____ – you just did. You hurt Andrew and your own son -- he's terrified - do you think this display is good for anyone?”

Anyway, Husband had an appointment with the forensic evaluator yesterday because Wife had requested this months ago – due to her allegations of Husband being unfit….and now the evaluator is going to call me – and while I will tell the truth – I am fearful that she will try to hurt us – her boyfriend is a retired cop – she has access to a gun – my neighbor across the street was terrified when this was going on….so it’s not my imagination – I’ve been sick about this. BTW, spoke to Husband at length this a.m. - he agrees Wife could snap even further - to not do anything - wait and see if evaluator calls...but if I do testify to get a restraining order against her - because she will flip. Jim thinks I'm over-reacting Husband and Wife's Daughter think I'm right on the money. Jim thinks Wife doesn't have a history of shooting people -- did Amy Fisher have a history of shooting housewives? Did O.J. have a history of bludgeoning to death ex-wives and boyfriends? I say nay nay! (To quote John Pinette got to throw a little humor in here.)

Even though Wife's elevator doesn't go all the way to the top and Husband has his issues - why can't they just stop lying and fighting and do what is best for the child. Money makes people do crazy fucking things. I'm glad we don't have any.

Happy New Year and if Lifetime wants to make this into a movie - I get the damn money from it.

Jerry Springer is Comin' to Town....

2010-01-04T07:31:00.000-05:00

My facebook status today: Still sick to my stomach about yesterday's ugliness - sad that people can be so nasty and evil and sad that what my father always told me seems true....given the chance people will disappoint you so don't trust anyone.

Will update later.

Farewell 2009!!!

2009-12-31T14:07:00.004-05:00

Our plans for New Year's Eve....Andrew to sleep at 7:30 p.m. - Mom and Dad asleep by 8:30 p.m. We haven't seen a midnight awake in a long time - well except for those nights that Andrew cries out at 11:50 ish or so. (I should say mom hasn't seen a midnight - Jim works late alot and by the time he eats dinner and then does more work - it is close to midnight most nights.)

It snowed here this morning - nice, pretty, white snow. It has already stopped - only about 3 inches. I baked a couple dozen sugar and peanut butter blossom cookies this morning - Andrew helped to unwrap the kisses and to plant the kisses on the cookies.

Tonight I making chicken strips and roasted bacony cheesy potatoes for our New Year's Eve dinner/snacks. Might as well clog up what room is left in our arteries.

Very sad that Eastwick is over. I loved that show. :-(

Yesterday, we went into the city to look at the tree....then eat an expensive mediocre lunch at Burger Heaven ... then walk all the back down Fifth Avenue through hoards of people back to Penn Station. Ahhh vacation. It was fun because we got to spend the day with our friends the Bancalari family - but I would have rather just gone into Hoboken with them to Carlos and see Mauro and momma at the bakery!

Happy New Year people those few of you that read this.

The $240 Christmas Tree From Hell

2009-12-16T16:18:00.006-05:00

$20 in gas to drive to Nomansland to cut down our tree "it's a tradition"

$70 for the tree

$5 to tip the kid who tied the tree onto our car

$40 for lunch at Applebee's because we are in Nomansland and hungry

Future $$$ it will cost Jim for being mean to me because I told him to get off on the wrong exit (twice)

$20 for the leather gloves Jim left at the tree farm

$5 for the brand new glove of Andrew's he left as well

$70 the next morning to have the service station jump our car because Jim left the car door open and the light drained the battery (it was so cold too)

"it's a tradition"

$$$$$ to enlarge our living room and dining room because Jim has decided that this tree incident (did I tell you that it is the biggest tree in the history of mankind - Rockefeller Center would envy this tree) as we now refer to this experience has convinced him that our living space is too small - I shudder to think what next year's tree will cost us.

Happy Holidays.

My holiday baking/making plans

2009-12-12T09:25:00.003-05:00

Here is what I want to make for Christmas trays/jars etc.

Chocolate fudge
Maple Walnut fudge
Brownies with candy cane kisses in the middle covered in chocolate ganache and crushed candy canes
Oreo Truffles
Chocolate Chip Truffles
Nutterbutter Truffles
Sugar cookies
Italian rainbow cookies
Peanut butter cookies
Pumpkin spice bars
Orange blondies
Seven layer bars
Orange ricotta cookies
Symphony brownies

That's the goal.

For the teachers/therapists/aides - I bought them each a big glass jar and I'll fill the bottom with Hershey kisses, then biscotti, and wrapped "purchased treats" - then fill the top with wrapped homemade treats. Tie a big ribbon and we're done. I'll take pictures of those.

Neighbors/friends will get a tray with assorted goodies (that is the hope).

Jim is in the shower (allegedly) and then we're going to go cut down our tree!

Happy Saturday.

If I only had a brain

2009-12-10T20:40:00.004-05:00

....in my head I know my son will always have Asperger's....he will always have his quirks...his anxiety...but my heart - it rages against every regression - every set back...

the last couple weeks Andrew has started to chew his sleeve, the fronts of his shirts...
he pulls up his shirt and he used to play with his belly button - now its his nipple (sounds funny but not); he does it all the time
pacing and worrying more, totally anxiety striken about making people gifts
noises bothering him more

now today he is starting some weird breathing thing - I ask him "are you okay?" - "yes, mommy, I'm making a pattern".

we're lucky - he is high functioning, smart - very smart, cute and funny as hell and loving....but sometimes you just want to cry.

Spoke to my doctor on Tuesday night - such a great doctor she is - calls me at 8:45 pm and talks to me for 30 minutes. The chest x-ray was normal, the sonogram showed my spleen to be slightly enlarged but not worrisome and that I had two gallstones. She asked me about my fevers....I read my log. I went through a list of things that I thought could make this happen - her answer to each "no". So Tuesday I have to have a CAT scan and then we'll do blood cultures and then the lymph node biopsy. Happy Birthday to me...at least my scan is a day before my birthday - I can get that out of the way.

Starting to gear up for Christmas. Going to bake next weekend (the 19th) alot for the teachers and neighbors. We're going out on the Island Saturday to cut down our tree - then Sunday we'll buy and put up Flo's tree and lights.

Happy Holidays. I'm tired already.

The kid can't catch a break.

2009-11-14T18:06:00.004-05:00

Andrew is VERY allergic to Sadie. It started five minutes into the ride home from Connecticut. Nose running, coughing. It has progressed into red puffy eyes, very hoarse throat, more coughing and more nose running. Sadie is a sweet wonderful dog. We love her - Andrew loves her - but he can't live with her.

He is crying wishing a neighbor could adopt her so we can still see her. Allison, the dog's owner, is wonderful and wants him back tomorrow - so off to Connecticut Jim will go after church in Bryan's car as to not further contaminate the car Andrew rides in - I will have to Dyson and clean everything. The poor kid can hardly breathe - then he started sobbing - all he wants is this dog.

Unfair.

Oh my - I got a viagra spam comment!!!!

2009-11-13T19:14:00.003-05:00

You know you've made it when you receive a Viagra spam comment. I just had to delete it - it was on a 2007 post about Potty Tales - too funny.

I haven't posted - I've been so stupid busy - I sit on the board of committee meetings for special education as a parent member - and it seems the school district has a hard time getting folks to do this - as it is volunteer based. These meetings take up a day or two of my time (when Andrew is in school); Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursday nights we have therapy - individual and play group (social skills). I've been cooking and baking up a storm and trying to weed out and declutter - who am I kidding that will NEVER happen.

Tomorrow we are adopting a dog, Sadie, a three year old hound mix - I'm excited and dreading it. I have three males to clean up after - the thought of adding four more legs into the mix terrifies me....BUT the thought of having to walk Miss Sadie three times a day will be good for my ever expanding self. Seems unfair that this continues to happen when I exist on two hollowed out bagels a day and massive quantities of diet pepsi.

Also, imagine my true elation when I log on to post and saw that I have two followers -- thank you thank you Laura and Bev...Rev. Joel Osteen had to start somewhere...speaking of which that guy totally freaks me out - no one - no one smiles that much - not even the Joker and his was painted on.

Jim is making appointments for second/third opinions with regard to his gene mutation and the recommendation of a colectomy. He is lining up an appointment at the colo-rectal cancer risk assessment clinic at John Hopkins - in my infinite wisdom and deteriorating mind - figured out the acronym for that would be CR-CRAC - that cracked me up - get it See R Crack....colo-rectal...hello is this thing on?

I'm going to try to keep this blog alive...clear...we've got a rhythm.

Fall!!

2009-09-23T17:09:00.007-04:00

I love the Fall. It's my favorite time of year. Fall, Winter, Spring and Summer - in that order (I don't even like summer but I have to rank it somewhere).

I'm doing a Fall Foodie Swap - one of the blogs I follow A Dozen Eggs (http://adozeneggs.com/wordpress/) has organized it. I love this kind of stuff - even though this is the first one I'm doing. Yes, I have sent boxes of things to friends that I have enjoyed picking up - but this is an official swap - where I will indeed get something back and I did today (see picture above)!!!!! Thank you Patti - I love everything. Andrew wants the pasta tonight! (I'm making brown sugar chicken, herb crusted pork loin, roasted garlic potatoes, carrots and green beans - I've already made a dutch apple cheesecake, brownies, giant decorated sugar cookie and pecan pies (that didn't set properly - I never had that happen - darn it - so we picked up a chocolate mousse cake just for insurance)...but I still have to make the pasta).

A friend sent me this message on facebook: "hey...my mom said the other day she saw Andrew & he was going "im not gonna do it, im not gonna do it, im not gonna do it" so shes like "Andrew, what are you not going to do?" and hes still going "im not gonna do it, im not gonna do it" so shes like "Andrew whats wrong? what arent you going to do?" and he goes "im not gonna cry, im not gonna cry" hahahaha I found that to be so funny!!!!! Very cute!"

It made me sad - poor kid has so much anxiety.

We got good news yesterday - Andrew doesn't have the same mutation as his father! Hooray - he has an MYH variant - like his Aunt Nora - and will probably need monitoring in the future - but for right now - he's good - thank God!

Happy Fall!

The Pity Party is Raging

2009-08-19T07:17:00.002-04:00

Andrew has had a horrible regression - due to many things - his being sick this summer (twice), the school location changed, teachers changed and schedules change (due to being in another day care facility - ICCD said they had to abide by their schedule - two to two and a half hour naps in the afternoon - meaning - Andrew laid on a mat staring at a wall for two hours when he is suppose to have structure) - and I'm furious with ICCD for doing all of this - the purpose of summer session is to avoid regression - keep everything on schedule. His play therapy stopped due to vacation - his social skills group stopped due to vacation - so basically no services in August.

No one wants to play with him - it breaks my heart - he doesn't hit kids anymore (just me)- but he does get in kids faces and act aggressive. Kids want to do other things - like the pool and Andrew is scared of the pool - but even if I try to plan things - BBQs, festivals - everyone says yes- and then it is no. No one calls us anymore - unless they have a problem or want help with something - it sounds like I'm whining but it is true. We have no one - no family, no friends, nothing. I scheduled a big playdate for September and I canceled it - only one person responded as of yet -- but all his service providers say that Andrew should have short, calm playdates and get him back under control and that I should never think about doing any thing like that. It's hard to have people over here - even adults - I'm basically a hermit. Jim attends parties and sports event and he goes out to work - and yes it is stressful - but it still is a respite. I love my son more than anything on this earth - but sometimes I want to hide too.

Jim came home early from work last night (6:15 usually home @ 9:30) - I thought to support me because I spent most of the day crying and just felt bad. He came home in a pissy mood because he went to a ball game with friends the night before and was tired. He played with Andrew ten minutes - put his "I'm sick of this" face on when Andrew started being "Andrew" and I ended getting Andrew ready for bed and read him books. Then Jim ate and watched football (pre-season game).

I was crying and just fell asleep @ 8:30 and the phone rings - it's a friend canceling our playdate for Wednesday afternoon - that just set me off again. She canceled because her daughter doesn't want to play with Andrew any more. We had had lunch after Bible Camp yesterday - and her daughter elbowed Andrew once and pinched him - and Andrew honestly didn't hit her or retaliate but I think the girl knows it is a matter of time or wants to go to the pool - either way I'm going to have to deal with a sad kid.

I have something tentatively set up with another mom who son has PDD - for Thursday. Hopefully, that will work out.

I am really at the end of a very weak rope.

Pity Party....Party of One...

2009-08-17T20:38:00.003-04:00

I'm having my own little pity party. I'm sad, I'm lonely, I'm thinking this is the beginning of a bad profile for match.com.

It's 8:30 - I'm going to bed because I have the flippin' flu again - dear God - here a strain, there a strain, everywhere a strain...strain.

Day one down of holy roller bible camp. We're Catholic. I'm not a "devout" Catholic. I believe in God, I believe in doing the right thing, etc. I don't believe everything that's fed to me...I wasn't just tossed off the turnip truck....but Andrew's friend Melissa is going to this camp - hand raising, praise God shouting...church - and it's $50 for five days, three hours a day....they can turn him into a tele-Evangelist for that money. I now am flashing on Cartman's tele-Evangelistic period ...

Cartman: For he is Lord, Lord Lord Lord. Right here we have a little girl who is very, very ugly! Do you believe he is gonna cure your face of the uglies?!

Ugly Girl: Yes!!

Cartman: He is gonna take that ugly face and make you reasonable to look at! [smacks her on the face] Bah!

Ugly Girl: Waah.

Cartman: [moonwalks] Bwolololololololololololo! Oh, good Lord, somebody say "Amen!"

We still laugh at that (me and all the voices in my head).

"I'm a failure"

2009-08-05T19:40:00.002-04:00

My sweet precious five year old told me that today as he got into the car crying because he couldn't stand the noise at the park we stopped at after school. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Yes, his autism could be so much worse. Yes, he could have something terminal. Yes, we are lucky and blessed to have the resources we have to get him the help he needs. But for fuck's sake, it breaks my heart for him to say these things. "Nobody likes me." "Everyone hates me." "I don't have any friends." I can tolerate those - but "I'm a failure."

I can't type anymore. I can't see the screen.

Another renewal in humanity

2009-07-31T16:45:00.003-04:00

My dear friend, Susan,- whom I haven't spoken to or e-mailed in ages - sent me an Edible Arrangement (fruit - Andrew's favorite!!) and, of course, when I told Jim - he said, "Edible Panties". She has two beautiful daughters and an Irish husband (poor girl) and I think we are actually going to get together the end of August and devise our plan to make millions - insert evil laugh here...wahhhhahwhhwwwwhhhhha.

Susan and I met at Michaels and took the Wilton cake decorating classes together. I was totally bitchy to her - because I got there early put my sweatshirt on the back of a chair and my bag with supplies on the table and went to the bathroom. I came back and there was this pretty Korean girl sitting in my fucking chair. I was really crabby - I had just had a miscarriage the week before, I was hemorrhaging like (TMI I know) nobody's business and it was the first time I was leaving my baby (2 years old) to do something for myself and someone took my chair! She apologized after I said something rudely (under my breath - like all good Irish girls do) and we ended up being partners the whole three months - so funny....I guess. Right Susan, funny?

Thank you, Susan. I love you and miss you too.

Friends....

2009-07-30T15:18:00.003-04:00

I see pictures posted on Facebook - all these people doing family events and events with friends...and we really don't do any of that .... I don't know if it is because of Andrew's diagnosis, Jim working 16 hour days, my being basically a single mom, no babysitter - ever or people just don't invite us anymore because we usually can't come - at least not together. It makes me sad.
I have to admit - I'm too fucking tired to think about going out during the week - or even on the weekend - on Saturdays I'm up at the crack of dawn with Andrew - I take him to reading class at Hofstra - then try to keep him busy outside the house until 1 or so - so Jim has some free time - then it is time to come home and think about what I'm doing for dinner - cleaning up the mess that was made while I was gone...Sunday - up at the crack of dawn again, church is an all morning ordeal - Jim sleeps late, gets up eats, takes his hour long shower - we run out the door (I've already picked up Flo because we would never be on time if I didn't do that because Jim is Dagwood Bumstead)...we go to church - Jim does his usher stuff - we take Flo home or go out to lunch - and by that time its 2 p.m. again - there is never just a break....okay enough of my whining. Off to finish up dinner. Huge roasted pork chops, spaetzle, gravy and sauerkraut (yuck). I'm making blueberry pancakes with Andrew for his dinner - he wants them!

It's disgusting out there....

2009-07-29T11:28:00.004-04:00

You walk out the door and pure wetness and not from rain.

I got the car inspected, returned the Right Size smoothies - 141.00 for three cans of shake mix - I can get it for $10 a can at Trader Joe's so I returned it. I want to bake and do a few things - but today is going to be don't do any thing day in the kitchen. Yesterday I made etouffee and that took a couple hours - I'm going to go relax and watch some t.v. I have to pick up Andrew at 2:45 then he has a social skills group at 4 - we'll get home about 6 after moving cars, etc.

Tonight or tomorrow - I'll bake brownies for one of his teacher's birthday this weekend. Next week I'll make brownies for the Hofstra folks and for my sister-in-law.

Nothing new or exciting to report...but this -- I did spray a police officer with Diet Pepsi at Dunkin Donuts this a.m. -- I opened the refrigerated case to grab a Diet Pepsi and one flew out - the cap broke and Diet Pepsi everywhere. My little Yankee Doodle wanted a donut on the way to school - so I obliged.

I know a few friends read this - so pass this info on - if you want any cool cookies/favors -check out a friend's website - http://www.adozeneggs.com/ - they are yummy and beautiful!

Ellen Stalker.

2009-07-21T18:37:00.000-04:00

http://kitchendoughdough.blogspot.com/2009/07/dreamin-doughdough-giveaway.html

Cupcake stalker - Ellen beware !!!

Barf-o-rama

2009-07-21T08:13:00.003-04:00

I've been up to my ovaries (dried out bastards that they are) in vomit - Andrew has had a virus since Thursday night. He seems a little better - but isn't eating and now has a killer cough. Dr. B said that the virus could go into a secondary infection - like pneumonia or bronchitis so I probably will have to take him for another check today.

I started the Right Size Smoothies today - not eating wasn't working so let's see if drinking will help (ahh only if alcohol was non-caloric)- actually it tasted great and I followed it with a big glass of water (not diet pepsi). I've been working so hard lately on the house, painting the bathroom, staining the deck, baking for friends and now I want to start working out again - I can't believe I use to run an hour a day just a couple years ago -- now they only running I do is from the voices in my head.

Jim is waiting until the end of summer to have his second opinions - although four medical professionals have told us the same thing: In the next five years one of two things WILL definitely happen (1) he will have his colon removed and be okay or (2) he will have cancer detected and will have to have the surgery PLUS radiation and chemo. He's a procrastinator - one of the things I don't like - I'm a take action and get things done person!

The person we lent money to - hasn't answered my e-mail - nor returned my call. It isn't even the money - it's the hiding crap. That pisses me off. Just grow a pair and call me and say, "I don't have it - it will be at least ___ until I can pay you back."

So....

2009-07-07T17:49:00.002-04:00

July 4th was nice. After all my angst, it was nice.

And the meanie brother in law, was sweet and pleasant - SOOOO if he can be sweet and pleasant - why can't he at least be civil the other 364 days of the year. What makes me so mad - is that he is likeable - but when he purposely sets out to hurt feelings and be mean - it makes me do mean things.

Jim's family should know I love them - even the King of Rude - but there is just so much poor white trash from Illinois can take without blowing.

Let's see two months until Madri Gras.

July 3rd

2009-07-03T10:02:00.003-04:00

It's a feeling bad day. Nothing "bad" happening - I just feel exhausted, miserable and overwhelmed. Andrew wants constant attention, Jim went back to work - and I have to make a shitload of stuff for the annual trek to the beach to spend the day in a TINY bungalow with 40 large people and one autistic five year old. It isn't fun for me or him. Everyone else drinks and could care less as they are all the bosses and me just a lowly outcast. "Don't put that there." "What are you doing?" "Do you boil water like that?" Sweet Mother of God, kill me now.

It's 12 hours - I can suffer through 12 hours. I've suffered through worse.

Addendum: The folks aren't that bad - it's just really really loud and really really crowded and my Asperger's kicks in.

Someone renewed my faith in humanity.

2009-06-25T07:16:00.003-04:00

I try to do for people - I do because I really like to - I like to make people happy. It's not some twisted need of mine - it's not to make people like me - it is HONESTLY because I genuinely like to do things for people. It is hard for people to grasp that concept.

I don't get or see much of that in return. For example, my neighbor has three children ages 40 to 50 - all computer literate - one works about six hours a day, one is a housewife and another does something but apparently naps at work- she comes to me for help ordering shoes on line because she says they don't want to do anything for her (one "child" still lives with her). The other day I ordered her a pair of shoes - took me a couple phone calls and a little trouble - but I did it. Last night, her daughter passed me as I walked home in the rain from the train station. I move the car there about five p.m. so that Jim can drive it home as he works late every night and Andrew is asleep and I have no one to sit with him. (She comes home at 5:10 from the train station and lives right across the street -- she wasn't going anywhere but home). You think she would have stopped to ask me if I needed a ride - she didn't know that my other neighbor was meeting me and giving me a ride - all she knew is that I was walking in the rain without an umbrella toward home. Example of how she could have done something MINOR to help another and she didn't.

A few weeks ago I casually mentioned to my friend (only made this year while waiting to pick up our kids), Margaret, that next time she goes to Ireland let me know - I would love for them to bring me back some Sheridans (a delicious coffee liqueur that you can only buy in Ireland). I never gave it another thought.

Yesterday Margaret, Danny (her husband) and their youngest son, Michael, come bolting down the hall - Michael running to me "Jenny, Jenny" because I give him some change every day. I did have some MegaBlocks and Thomas cups for him so happens that day - and occasionally I have given them extras of books I find but I don't do anything out of the ordinary for them.

Margaret hands me a package - it's a bottle of Sheridans. I was over the moon - I asked "How?" "And how much do I owe you." She wouldn't hear of me paying her and then told me Danny's best friend and his wife DIED this weekend and he had to fly back to Ireland for the funeral. This man with a job, two kids and his best friend passing flew to Ireland on Sunday night and back Wednesday and remembered to stop for a bottle of Sheridans for me - and he hardly knows me - I've talked to him a minute or two. NEVER in a thousand years would I have even dreamt that they would remember such a request for a fun trip to Ireland but on such a horrific occasion - they remember to do something nice. I think I got the facts right about the death etc. I was so dumbfounded by all of it - I'm not sure if I remember correctly. There are tears in my eyes for his friends as I type this - and tears for their generosity of spirit.

Thank you Danny and Margaret. God Bless You and may your friends rest in peace in God's hands. You've renewed my faith in humanity.

This month....not good

2009-06-22T11:29:00.003-04:00

Well, after the swine flu, we had Jim's bad test results...we are still working on all that but my heart and gut tells me Jim isn't going to be proactive and will live (or die) with his 7% chance of NOT getting cancer.

Then my arm got smashed in a door the same day I got stung by a bee. Then our basement got water (from what I thought was a small pipe issue - and turned out to be a major sewer problem) because my 24 year old flushes paper towels down the toilet - $400 for the line cleaning, not to mention the carpet, wall - aggravation!!!! He is going to end up paying for this - either blood or money his choice.

Andrew's birthday party on Saturday (early because of a conflict) was a huge success and he and Jim went to their first Mets game together in the rain but they still had fun - until Andrew called me crying hysterically when they got to the car - "I want to see you mama.." broke my heart. He is having a Jewish birthday this year - started on the 20th and will go through the 29th (his actual birthday).

A relative disappointed me hugely and this time I'm done. I went out of my way to be nice to her - and she screwed me twice that I am aware of. It's no wonder she goes through friends like tissue and is always fighting with someone because someone once again has done HER wrong. Grow up.

My sister was shipping us a German shepherd puppy in a few weeks but I think we're postponing for a while - too much going on. We're debating over Andrew's medication and there is so much up in the air - it will all come crashing down again.

Rest in peace, Aunt Gladys - she passed away on Sunday - Jim's last living aunt (I think).

Here is hoping July will be better.

Double damn...

2009-06-04T12:23:00.004-04:00

This week has gone down the toilet.

We just got back from Jim's gastroenterologist who had special genetic testing done after Jim's second colonoscopy.

He has to have another procedure Monday – we have to see a genetic counselor – and we have to make a decision whether or not to have his colon removed . His tests show that he has a 93 percent of getting colo-rectal cancer before 50 – the doctor said in this community the results that Jim has are rare. Andrew has to be tested (genetic blood test) at age 10.

This pales in comparison to my swine flu dilemma.

Oink Oink

2009-06-03T16:55:00.002-04:00

The unofficial swine flu is official and has resulted in severe bronchitis - now I'm on ....four medications for it. The good news is that if no one in this house has it yet....they are probably safe. Thank you God.

Sadly, two more 40 something folks died of swine related flu issues --- not feeling warm and fuzzy.

May May Go Away...

2009-05-20T08:25:00.001-04:00

Good heavens, it's June 3rd.

Well let's see since Friday I've been unofficially battling the dreaded "swine flu" - on Tamiflu, inhalers, etc. Now I'm going in for a chest x-ray and on antibiotics and they think oops - maybe they misdiagnosed me and I have pneumonia. I swear...most days I'm the bug. (You know, some days you're the windshield, some days you're the bug).

I mucked up and told my sister-in-law over the phone that Andrew wouldn't be going to a friend's party this weekend (because of germs - which I understand even though Andrew and Jim have no symptoms) and he cried.

My husband is being deloused as we speak - he was allowed back into work today - even though he worked from 7 a.m. to midnight each and every day including the weekends - I know I know - he's lucky he has a job - but for fug's (trying to be a kinder, gentler person) sake - the slaves had more freedom.

Off to have an x-ray. Party on friends.

Lest there be any doubt

2009-05-06T21:41:00.003-04:00

I love my son, unconditionally, wholly and without hesitation....but some days I feel like the bug and not the windshield....

There be days like this....

2009-05-05T16:05:00.002-04:00

Sometimes it is so hard having an autistic child...and then I get mad at myself when there are children missing, sick, dying, dead....I love him more than anything but sometimes it is so hard. Today he went after a child who walked into the waiting room at the doctor's office (pediatric psychiatrist)....I had to pull him down the hall away from this poor child. The rest of the time - it was screaming, crying, calling me names....after we saw Dr. H...we were leaving and he went up to this child and started to jump him....life with an autistic child is a crap shoot.

A mind is a terrible thing to lose.

2009-05-04T15:51:00.003-04:00

It has been raining for days and I love it. Everyone hates it - but to me - it is calming and renewing. It promotes growth, it cleanses the earth - the world seems fresh during and after a rain. I could live in London or Seattle or any other city that has frequent rains.

I love thunderstorms and wind. I love snow. I love being cozy on the couch watching the snow or rain outside and knowing everyone I love is safe.

I love The Golden Girls. Something about four women living together, not alone, sharing, laughing -- I love the episodes when it was raining or a hurricane was "a comin".

I love my husband and sons. I love our friends, my friends, our family.

Today is the 2nd anniversary of Madeleine McCann being snatched from their vacation apartment in Portugal. I judged them and was harsh when it happened. My heart breaks for them.

I hate children hurting, cancer, disease, sadness, marriages in turmoil, people being mean. I hate "hate".

I'm having a zen day I suppose.

Happy New Year...

2009-01-11T18:49:00.002-05:00

It's been bad, bad, bad, bad.

Andrew and I were so sick during the holiday break. Andrew had a regression with his Aspergers. Jim is working all the time (I'm grateful he's working but he's tired and so am I).

Then we lost Grandpa Bud (Andrew's adopted Grandfather and one of our very best friends), then Andrew's bus driver died on the same day....then I fell off the deck....-- not drinking just icy...

It's been a shitty couple months.

Now the Giants lost today.

Woe is us.

November 21, 2008

2008-11-22T17:23:00.002-05:00

My mom died on Friday, November 21, 2008, alone in a hospital room with $41 in her wallet...that really, really sucks.

Uprising

2008-11-07T10:18:00.002-05:00

I got a message from Ankit that said he was starting a movement (not bodily) that required me to post a new entry on this blog. That was weeks ago (I think).

I'm empty. Andrew is having a really hard time, Jim is working all the time and having a really hard time, I'm just empty. Andrew is having so much anxiety, headaches...that we are going to have him evaluated again for possible medication to help him. This breaks my heart and I cry every time I think about it. I love my son and I want him to be happy and not eating his sleeve when he thinks about something that worries him. But it also makes me sad to think of him being on medication. God will have to help me with this situation.

I went to a service today for a friend's brother-in-law. He was only 42 years old. Three years younger than me. So sad. I have to remember to be grateful for everyday. Rest in peace, Dominick.

Sorry, Ankit no happy twist.

Just to be clear....

2008-08-26T11:29:00.003-04:00

I know there are far worst things going on in the world...when I rant it is just to get it out and then I feel better. I'm lucky to have such a beautiful, handsome, smart, funny kid - who happens to scream, hit, yell, get frustrated a lot, flap, jump, pace and generally is just annoyed by people - much like myself.

Kid-Zilla....

2008-08-20T14:05:00.003-04:00

I know, I know - I haven't been posting but that is because it's been crazy crazy crazy here. The last three weeks of Andrew's school was crazy busy, Jim has been working 15 to 18 hour days including the weekend, he can't get vacation and now Andrew is off school and Kid-Zilla has returned. Did I mention the word crazy????

Andrew's been good but then he slams me to the ground to let me know that Asperger's is still alive and well and fermenting in his little head. I'm wiped out. Okay, I have things to do - but wanted to post something so that the obit blogger world didn't think the worst.

Stick figures....

2008-06-20T08:42:00.002-04:00

Most people wouldn't get giddy when their four year draws stick figures and houses ... we do. Andrew has never shown any interest whatsoever in drawing or coloring. Now for the last two weeks, he wants to do nothing but make cards, pictures, etc. It's wonderful. He is using his imagination and his drawing is pretty damn good, if I do say so myself.

But his flapping/seizure like activity is worse at night. It's so intense it scares me but we can't have everything.

They have changed my medication added more medication, drawn blood work. The changed medication is making my head ache constantly and I feel like I'm in a daze...but I guess that is better than dying right?

Tim Russert's Memorial Service was beautiful in DC this week....as the ukulele version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow played and folks walked out of the Kennedy Center - a stunning double rainbow was over DC - makes you believe....man, I'll be lucky to get a half dozen mourners at my funeral. I better start living right.

Tim Russert

2008-06-16T13:42:00.002-04:00

What a seemingly great man. A man who loved his family, his job, his friends and his country and Irish to boot.

He lived a great life...albeit short.

Rest in peace, Mr. Russert.

Depression

2008-06-16T13:39:00.004-04:00

I've been in a chronic worsening state of depression for months. It all exploded when I was put on blood pressure medication in December and I even gained more weight to compound the fertility drugs, hormones, miscarriage weight....I went to the doctor last week and she told me that the medicine I was put on causes weight gain and depression - great. Just great.

So she weaned me off it and put me on another - as I was weaning off the medicine - I felt better and I lost 8 pounds (in four days) without being on the treadmill for 3 hours a day. Now I started the new medicine and I feel even more down. Lord, what is worse dying of a stroke or fashioning yourself a noose....BUT I would never do that because Andrew needs me and Jim needs me and who would wash Bryan's underwear. Hell, Bryan doesn't even want to wash Bryan's underwear!

Depression blows.

Andrew is making headway!

2008-06-10T08:09:00.003-04:00

Andrew is starting to respond amazingly. He is in a better mood, more patient...talks a lot more (he has always had a wonderful vocabulary) but now he initiates conversation with everyone. He talks about friends now. He loves school. He still has many of his issues but he really making progress. God must have gotten pissed about my footprints blog! Sorry God. But HE understands.

What is more disturbing???

2008-06-04T15:58:00.002-04:00

The idea of manties -- yes, folks, panties for men - all decked out with lace and bows - or your husband telling you he wants some. I almost had Dina McGreevey on the phone to get her lawyer's number....when Jim said he was joking and thought the whole idea was insane.

I'm sorry any man who wants to wear panties....isn't a man.

Check out: My Brother Tom

2008-06-04T10:11:00.002-04:00

This video touched my heart. It is thought provoking and wonderful.

http://www.aane.org/about_aane/aane_video_gallery.html

Scroll down on the page....My Brother Tom.