When losing feels like winning

Joe recently learned about betting.  Now he wants to bet us about everything.

"I'll bet you a quarter that our team wins tonight."
"I'll bet you a quarter that Diesel is sleeping on my chair again."

Thank goodness his favorite bet is a quarter!

Last Sunday after we dropped Alan off at camp, he says to me, "I'll bet you a quarter that Alan likes camp."  Oh man, you have no idea how much I wanted to lose this bet!

Drop off was ROUGH!

Dad stayed with Alan and I went to go sign him in and drop off medicines.  The medicine line was ridiculous.  150 special needs folks and only four nurses signing in medicines.  And they had to rewrite every single one.  We got there on the early end of drop off and I stood in line for at least 20 minutes and probably closer to 30.

Meanwhile Alan was crying like his heart was breaking.  He tried to get back in the car and DH locked him out of it.  Then they walked him over to look at the pool and when he expressed an interest in swimming, the counselor took him back to the cabin to put on trunks.  Then DH moves the car and hides.

Poor guy.  Later he told me that he had the harder job (I agree) but that it was just as well we split up like we did because he probably would have snapped and yelled at someone in the medicine line.

When we left Alan was only sniffling and there had been no headbutting or hitting.  His tears are killers though.  He just looks so freaking miserable.

Meanwhile all I can do is wonder what he is thinking.  Does he think we abandoned him?  Does he understand enough to know that we will come back and this isn't forever?

Monday night was so weird.  Joe was working.  DH gets home and says, "What do you want to do?  Go out for dinner?  See a movie?"  Wow.  No sitter required.  We almost had an empty nest.  We could get used to this.  Nope.  We won't.

Several times throughout the week we started and looked around frantically for Alan.  It was definitely weirdly quiet.  For a kid that is essentially non-verbal he is noisy!

It was a productive week.  I got Alan's room painted (I hate painting) and we took Joe out for steaks -- something he loves but of course Captain Picky won't touch.

Alan's one on one counselor was wonderful and communicated well with me -- we exchanged over 100 texts over the course of five days!  She even got him to shower (something we've been wanting for forever) and we were able to carry it over for the last two nights.  He still doesn't like them, but we are at least hopeful!

By Thursday, I was missing my Bug something fierce, though.

It turns out a good time was had by all.

After we got home last night, Joe comes in to see me.  "So did he have a good time at camp?"

Yes, he did and I was so happy to lose this bet that I paid him double!

What have I done?

Alan is going away to camp next week.  It will be for FIVE days.  I am having a minor panic attack about it.  The only time Alan has been away without family overnight was one camp weekend.  Every other time, at least Joe was with him.

What have I done?

He can't tell me if he's miserable.  He can't tell me if they mistreat him.  He can't tell me if he's having the time of his life and wants to go every week next summer.  He can't tell me anything about it.  Oh and he's three hours away from home -- his weekend camp is 30 minutes away.

What have I done?

I know the camp has a good reputation.  Lots of kids go each week (about 150) and they've been in operation for years.  He will get to be outside and probably climb trees to his heart's content.  But what if they won't let him climb trees?  How will he communicate his problems?  Heck, half the time I have no clue why he's upset.  How the heck is a stranger going to figure out the problem?

Well, he's gone to assorted schools since he was 3.  I was never there.  He did just fine.  Most of the dedicated professionals who have worked with him have been fantastic.  They aren't in this field for the money.  They are in it for the kiddos.  Of course the bad apples get all the press so that is what has me stressed.

In reality he will probably have a blast.

I am looking forward to painting his room (it has been probably 8 years since I painted it!) and maybe just having a little "me" time.

Joe is counting the days until little brother leaves.

DH will take a a day or two of vacation and we have some fun evenings planned.

We are all looking forward to five straight nights of sleeping through the night!

What have I done?

I've arranged for a week away for all of us.  As Thomas the Tank Engine says, "Sometimes a change is as good as a rest." 

Here's to a week of change!

Our monsoon

Everyone has heard the expression "It never rains, but it pours."  Last week, we had a figurative monsoon.

Monday (St. Patrick's Day) was the day we started ripping out our kitchen.  Yay!  We've been looking forward to this for months -- or in my case, years!

So the weekend before was supposed to be a double camp weekend for the boyz.  This was going to be perfect.  We could move the kitchen table, etc. into the dining room and buy some last minute kitchen things we've been wanting to shop for together (new chairs, dishes, faucet, etc.) while we had the house to ourselves.  We were also going to go over to my parents for a belated birthday celebration (remember it snowed then) as well as St. Pat's dinner.  My mom loves to host things and it just doesn't work at her house with Alan so this was going to be a wonderful relaxing, ADULT weekend.

Friday afternoon

Friday morning Alan gets up to go to school and five minutes before the bus is scheduled to come has explosive diarrhea.  Now with Alan, this could mean he is sick or it could mean he got too much dairy in the previous few days (he's lactose intolerant).  I kept him home to be safe and he seemed a little sluggish at first but by early afternoon he was back to his typical self.  I told myself we had just finished off some Cookies & Cream Pop-tarts and went ahead and packed for camp.

When I dropped him off, I told his buddy what had happened (I don't believe in trying to sneak something like that by them).  I knew that Alan technically should not be at camp (it had been less than 24 hours since he had diarrhea) but he didn't SEEM sick.  In fact, he heard me say "camp" earlier in the day and repeated it several times which is usually a positive thing.  He doesn't say "yes", he just repeats the words if that is what he wants.

DH and I grabbed a late dinner Friday night and watched a movie.  I talked to the nurse at camp Saturday morning (about something different) and she said Alan was doing fine -- eating breakfast, etc.  It seemed like the crisis had been averted.  We ran errands, had some beer to celebrate St. Pat's and went over to my parents' house.  About a half hour after we got there, I got a call from the director of camp to say that Alan was just lying around and he hadn't eaten any lunch or dinner.  Great.

So we went to pick him up early.  He still didn't seem "sick", but he wasn't exactly "right" either.  Shortly after we got home, I got sick.  I didn't have any of the really nasty stuff, I was just weak, shaky and NOT hungry (all I ate all day Sunday was a granola bar).  Then Sunday night on the way home from camp, Joe puked all over his car while driving.  My sainted hubby cleaned that up while Joe and I slept.  Luckily by then Alan seemed back to normal.

Monday morning I struggled to vertical long enough to let the contractor in and drive Alan to day camp (it was his spring break but I had signed him up for a day camp knowing this was close to kitchen time) and then came home and slept some more. 

By Monday afternoon I felt better.  When I picked Alan up, one of the staff stopped me to tell me about the college option for Joe.  We got the paperwork on Tuesday, had the tour on Wednesday, filled out the paperwork on Thursday and submitted it on Friday.

Joe was FANTASTIC about filling out most of the paperwork himself.

Meanwhile, the kitchen went from this ...

to this ...

to this ...

I'm exhausted just writing all this, so hopefully you have a sense of our monsoon from last week.  At least this week is calling for calmer weather ... and the installation of new cabinets!

The jacket

Some days I just want to cry.  Why does everything have to be a battle? 

It is getting to be cold where I live and I've been trying to get Alan to wear his jacket to school this week. 

Monday and Tuesday I just asked him to put it on and he refused.

Yesterday he got physically aggressive with me (hitting and headbutting me) when I insisted he wear his jacket.  Finally I ended up putting the jacket in his backpack for them to try at school.  Of course, they didn't go out yesterday and the jacket came home in his backpack.

Yesterday afternoon I had the brilliant idea that if he wanted to go outside after school he would have to wear his jacket.  He opted to stay inside and just watch videos.

This morning I tried again.  He grabbed his harness for the bus and I told him I wouldn't put it on until after he put on his jacket.  So he put the jacket in his backpack.

To add insult to injury, he was wearing his jacket when we picked him up from camp Sunday afternoon and they didn't say anything about him resisting.  It obviously fits and there don't seem to be any sensory issues with the material.

I guess if school can't get him to wear it, I just let him be cold?  Truthfully, he is such a tough kiddo he probably isn't terribly cold although he was shivering waiting for the bus on Tuesday and Wednesday.


I'm tired, frustrated and out of ideas.

Supposed to be a happy occasion ....

Any fan of Monty Python will undoubtedly get the reference in the title, but for those of you who don't find bizarre British humor funny, here is the clip ...

This past weekend was my brother-in-law's stepson's wedding.  For all intents and purposes, I consider him my nephew that I only met 6 years ago, and I dearly love his new wife.  I have been looking forward to the wedding for some time now.  

For a little background, let me say that Joe went to his uncle's second marriage 6 years ago and had a fantastic time.  He danced up a storm and charmed the whole room.

This most recent wedding was slightly less successful.  Now I won't be telling you "who killed who" (after all, everyone did survive the event!) but it just wasn't as smooth. 

This was a camp weekend and we sent Alan so we wouldn't have to worry about a babysitter, but Joe elected not to work and to attend the wedding instead.  Hindsight being what it is, DH and I should have "encouraged" Joe to work.

The actual wedding was relatively short and the minister did a fabulous job.  Afterwards we went and hung out at my in-laws' house and that was also painless.  So what was the problem, you might ask?

The reception.

We are walking in and I said, "I'd really like to get a picture of the three of us."  (After all, how often does Joe wear a suit?!?!)  Joe's response?  "Don't you have enough pictures of me at home?"  Okay.  He was obviously in "a mood".  He finally agreed to take ONE picture.  Unfortunately, I put my arm around him.  I was told in no uncertain terms to NOT do that.

Sigh.

Then there was the food.  Joe is nowhere close to Alan when it comes to being a picky eater, but there are certain things he will not touch and one of them is cheese (unless it is Parmesan cheese or on a pizza).  Even though he loves potatoes (and has even been known to eat potatoes with some cheese hidden in their depths once or twice) he overheard my nieces discussing how there was cheese in the potatoes.  It wasn't happening.  Then there was the pasta.  The kid LOVES pasta and it was just Pasta Alfredo with broccoli.  He always eats "pasta with white sauce" at home and he likes broccoli (it is one of the few veggies that he usually likes) but oh, no, not combined.  Even when I ended up giving him my leftover roll at the end, he wiped the little dab of Alfredo sauce on his napkin before eating it.  Sigh.

At this point I left our table to go talk with some of DH's cousins.  DH did point out that maybe I was being difficult too.  Probably.  I have often said that the reason Joe and I spark so much is that we are so similar in personality but so different in tastes.

DH did ask Joe the next day why he even wanted to go when he seemed so determined to not have a good time.  Joe's response?  "Well it had been a while since I went to a wedding." 

And it will probably be a VERY long time before he goes to another one!!!!

When "failing" is good

Joe had his first "real" job interview yesterday and he didn't get the job, but we've changed directions and everyone is happy about that.

Last spring, we had talked to the lead counselor at the special needs camp that he and Alan attend in the hopes of finding a way for Joe to attend camp without wasting a counselor on him.  (DH and I did not want to give up our "kid free" weekends!!)  The counselor knows Joe and when we talked to him he suggested the possibility that they could in essence create a position for him.  The camp folks really came through and late this summer, they hired him as the Assistant Arts & Crafts counselor!  Best of all it is a paying job.  Joe was very excited when he got his first paycheck!!

All decked out and ready to go to "work"

In addition to that, Joe is volunteering one day a week (for 3 hours) at a local hospital.  He also starts today volunteering two days a week (again for 3 hours) at a nursing home and he had been volunteering at a thrift store as well (which does not need him for the rest of September since they are doing an inventory) but he should be able to return there in October.

Any of the three volunteer positions could potentially lead to paid employment and frankly, that is the sort of job where Joe will shine.  He already had a very favorable review at the hospital where he has only been for two months.  I am sure the nursing home and thrift store will quickly realize how helpful and smart Joe is without him having to worry about first impressions. 

Sounds win-win to me!

But back to the failed interview, he had applied for several "bus boy" positions and this interview was with one of the restaurants.  When they called to ask him to come in to interview, the manager told me they were primarily interested in weekends.  I told them about the camp, but according to the manager "we could work around that".

Of course his definition of "working around that" was to have Joe quit his camp job (which he likes a lot) for a job he might not like.  Um, no.  Not going to happen.

So yesterday afternoon his job search woman, Joe and I had a long talk and decided to temporarily abandon his job search. 

This morning Joe came downstairs and informed me that since this was going to be the way of things for awhile he was going to start setting his alarm so that he could be sure to get up on time for his "jobs" (he had been relying on me to wake him up on time). 

I couldn't be happier that he didn't get the "real" job yesterday.