My escape has escaped

I've never been into reality TV, non-fiction books or documentaries.  I always joke that I have enough reality in my life and my reading or movie watching is for "escape".  When someone suggests a true book about autism for me to read, I cringe.  I don't want to spend my precious "fun" time reading about that which I am already living.

I've been a stay at home mom for almost 19 years. I've worked part time here and there and volunteered a lot when the kids were younger but for the most part, I have been unemployed since Joe was born.

I always thought I would go back to work as soon as our youngest was in school full time, but when Alan had been kicked out of Sunday School, gymnastics and Kindermusik by the time he was 6 I just stayed home.

For the most part, I haven't regretted it and neither has DH. We often joke that he is in charge of the income and I am in charge of the outgo and they are both equally important. As long as I keep our spending in line, we are able to put aside a little something and still have me stay home.

The last few years I have even had the time, interest and resources to get back into miniatures which has been a blissful escape for me. When I am having a tough day, I put Alan on the bus and head down to the basement to play with my minis. When the afternoon or evening is tough, I know I can escape as soon as both boyz are out of the house the next day. I work on them rarely on weekends -- mainly because I prefer to spend my evenings and weekends with DH which is its own escape.

But ever since Joe graduated in May, I am having to relearn how to be a SAHM.  For the last 12 years both the boyz have been in school almost full time.  This has given me more than enough time to keep the house marginally clean, run errands, work out, read, have an occasional lunch with a friend, do my Facebook and blogging and most important -- work on my minis.

Starting this summer I began to bring projects upstairs and work on them at the kitchen table while keeping an eye on Alan in the yard.  This has helped some, but some of my projects (despite being "miniature") are not very portable.  In addition, all my supplies are in the workroom in the basement.

Joe decided a few months ago that he was going to get back into working on models.  (I almost said "modeling" and I had this sudden flash of Mr. Camera Shy hamming it up for a photographer!) We've been happy that he was doing something other than watching movies.  Because really, how many times can you watch the entire Harry Potter movie series in chronological order?

He has finished two cars and while they aren't what anyone with a distinguishing eye would say are well done, they are helping him follow written directions, improve his hand to eye skills and work on project completion  -- which are all important things.

So what is the downside?  This has put Joe in close proximity to me for large chunks of my day that used to be my escape.  Now add to that my foot surgeries and you have a Mom that really wants to see her 19 yo gainfully employed!!

Calgon take me away ... oh never mind, I can't get my foot wet yet ...

Why the world revolves around Joe ...

The world revolves around Joe.  The world may not be aware of that yet, but it is definitely true.  For a kid who can be so helpful, he just cannot look at things from another person's point of view.  In that way he is a lot like a cat.

This morning Joe asks DH, "Do you know what the best time is to start a movie that Alan likes to watch start to finish?" 

From the other room I'm thinking, "Duh, right after he gets home from school." 

DH said, "I don't know.  What is the best time?" 

Joe's response?  "Right after he gets on the bus to go to school because then I can stop and start it whenever I want." 

Sigh.

As a family we tend to drink from Tervis Tumblers.  They allow us to keep track of whose drink is whose (since we all take them all over the house), leave very little marks on the furniture and allow for minimal spilling during the inevitable upset.  I usually use one of the lids like what is shown on the left (mainly because I prefer to use a straw) while Joe (and DH) tend to use the style on the right. 

When I came home from surgery, DH had washed my cup and was getting out a fresh one and grabbed one of the lids like is shown on the right but knowing I like straws, also got me a straw. 

Joe observed my cup last night at dinner and said, "You know you can drink out of those lids and you don't need a straw." 

Mom: "But I prefer using a straw." 

Joe: "But you don't need one."

Mom: "I know."  He just looked at me blankly.

Sigh.

Joe asked for me to make some hard boiled eggs this morning.  To be fair, he actually asked me to teach him how to make them.  As a family we don't eat a lot of eggs, except for Joe who usually eats two every day.  If left to his own devices, he would eat a half dozen eggs a day, but we set the limit early.  And once there is a rule, it is usually followed. 

DH had stopped at the store and picked up 18 eggs and we had about 6 in the refrigerator.  I told Joe we were going to make the 18 eggs into hard boiled eggs and save the others for whatever. 

Joe asks, "Like to cook other ways?"

Mom: "No, I was thinking more for if we need them for cooking other things."

Joe: "Like fried or scrambled eggs?"

Mom: "No, like a cake or pie or meatloaf or whatever."

Joe: "But I can still use them for fried or scrambled if I want those, right?"

Sigh. 

He's been trying to help out since my second surgery (I am doing much better, btw) and several times a day we hear about how Alan should have learned this or that by now.  I'll get right on that, kid.  After all, we haven't been trying to teach him those things for the last 15 years we've just been skating by.

The world does revolve around Joe.  We just haven't been able to inform the whole world.  I guess I better get on that, too ...

Ouch

This week was my second foot surgery.  I had my right foot done in August, then Alan broke his arm and we had so many things planned (including a wedding) that my left foot surgery got put off until this week.

Both DH and I thought this surgery would be easier than the first in so many ways.  Most importantly, it is not my driving foot so I will not have to rely on Joe to drive me around for six weeks.  But also, we've been through it and know what worked and what didn't.  We are also hoping pretty hard that Alan will not break any bones this time around!

In the hospital waiting for Alan's arm to be set

Unfortunately, recovery hasn't been as smooth as we hoped.  I got up last night to go to the bathroom, got lightheaded and passed out.  It was a less than graceful swoon and I ended up lying in the bathtub with my legs hanging out and the backs of my knees resting on the track for the shower sliding door.  I have some wicked bruises on my back, my left thigh and the backs of both knees.  Ouch.

The "Guard Kitty" didn't do anything to notify DH either!

DH had been sleeping on the couch in the living room so that he could hopefully hear both Alan and myself.  Unfortunately it took him a few minutes to figure out who was pounding on the wall for attention and he naturally assumed it was Alan and went up to talk to him first.

All my craft projects will have to wait

As Joe would say, "On the bright side, we didn't have to call 911 and I was only lying there for about 10 minutes." 

But the bruises are a big ouch at the moment -- almost worse than the surgery site!

Thank goodness for boyz ... except today!

I love my boyz beyond belief -- their autism, not so much -- but just the fact that they are male is awesome!  Most days.

 Most people have an idea before they have children of what boyz or girls are "like" and I am no exception.  I clearly remembering wanting no more than one boy.  I had one brother growing up and several of my cousins and friends had similar family arrangements and they worked pretty smoothly, I thought.

I knew I did not want multiple boyz.  My husband only has a brother and my brother-in-law has two brothers and no sisters and a family we were close to growing up had three boyz and one girl and the stories and memories terrified me.

DH loves to tell the story of his brother giving pointers to the neighborhood boy on the best way to beat up DH.  Then there are the stories of the summer that DH finally caught up in size to his older brother.  World War III is usually used as the analogy and all I can think of is my poor, sainted mother-in-law -- but that is another whole blog post!  I remember going over to the house with the three boyz while I was growing up and it totally morphed my brother.  He was sweet and funny most of the time but we'd go over to their house and he would get into fart contests with the other boyz and all that gross "boy" stuff.  No way.  I had decided that was NOT for me.

But when we started thinking about a family, all I could think about was having a boy.  I had four nieces and no nephews and my brother had died shortly before my wedding and all I could think about was a baby boy.  I wanted a boy!  Everyone always says "you will love the baby no matter what the gender" but I knew I really wanted that boy.  Boyz (plural) still scared me and if I knew my second child was going to be a boy, I probably would have preferred that my first be a girl, but since nothing in life is certain, I just wanted that boy.

Lo and behold, Joe was born and there was much rejoicing.  Both sets of grandparents and mom and dad were all thrilled.

Joe was absolutely the most beautiful baby EVER (and I had numerous strangers come up to me in public to reinforce that belief) but he wasn't always the easiest baby.  It took me a long time to decide to have a second baby.  DH wanted them closer together, but I was thinking 10 years apart was about right!  The thought of two boyz no longer scared me.  I just wanted a "typical" child.  Ha!  Does karma have a heck of a sense of humor, or what?!?!?   At least Alan was a much easier baby!!

So back to why I am thankful for two boyz ...

1.  Boyz are tough.  I have a dear friend that has a daughter Joe's age.  They both got their braces at similar times.  Sweet girl would be in the nurse's office several times a week for Tylenol.  Joe never asked for pain killers.  In two and half years.  Tough kid.  Alan cut his head open and I found out when I found the bloody washcloth he used to try to clean himself up.  Even tougher kid.  Thank goodness for boyz.

2.  Boyz consider shopping to be a chore which is also how I look at it.  I never have to take them shopping to cheer them up!  Thank goodness for boyz.

3.  Boyz' toys are much better than those specifically "for girls".  I hate the color pink and find changing a Barbie's clothes or matching her accessories to be boring.  But building a railroad track?  That is fun!!  Thank goodness for boyz.

4.  Boyz' books are better.  I'd much rather read Percy Jackson or even How to Train your Dragon than The Twilight books any day!!  Thank goodness for boyz.

5.  Boyz are usually lower upkeep.  They will never want their hair highlighted, a pedicure or the latest handbag.  A suit for prom is a lot easier than finding the "right" dress -- although it might cost as much.  In general their clothes cover more surface area, too!!  Car insurance is more for boyz, but a wedding is a lot more.  Thank goodness for boyz.

6.  Drama is definitely lower with boyz.

In case you missed all the clues, I'll spell it out.  I am not a "girlie" girl.  Despite my obsession with miniatures, I don't care for most things "feminine".  I am an engineer by degree.  I love jeans and t-shirts and my boyz.  So why is today different?

Today is the day I cleaned the bathrooms.  Let's face it -- boyz miss.  A lot.  An awful lot.  Yuck.

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!!!!

Miss me?

Miss me?? 

Alan -- oh so ready for the cast to be off!!

I have been blissfully absent from blogging for most of the last month.

Most of you probably haven't noticed.  Many of you probably don't care.  Some of you will probably tell me how much you've missed hearing about my antics with the boyz.  Yes, they've had them.  No, I haven't written about them.

My miniature greenhouse (made from a birdcage) is almost done!

Mainly I've been taking time for me. 

Julie. 

Not "Mom" and certainly not "Mom of special needs kiddos". 

A little roombox called "Tea for Two"

Just Julie.

I've been working out -- most weeks at least 3 days!  Considering I only had my surgery 10 weeks ago and the boot has only been off for about 6 weeks, I think that is pretty awesome.  Some days my foot still hurts.  I can't do more than a lunge or two before I have tears in my eyes.  I can't genuflect in church without hanging on to the end of the pew and looking like a klutzy idiot (oh, wait, I AM a klutz -- but let's not discuss the idiot part!!)

Since I tend to like working out first thing after Alan gets on the bus and that was when I usually blogged as well, that has probably been the single biggest contributing factor to my decreased blogging.

the tea cart

I've even lost 3-5 pounds (depending on the day) which is only a tiny fraction of what I probably need to lose (20) but at least my weight is headed in the right direction for the first time in a long time.

A little Southwestern themed roombox I made

I have also been working on my miniatures a lot and have actually finished two projects in the last two weeks and almost finished with my third.  Considering only about 3 weeks ago I was close to having a panic attack that I had too much started and would never finish anything, that is pretty impressive.

Climbing again ...

Alan also got his cast off last Thursday.  He (and we) were pretty miserable for the 24 hours following the procedure (he had severe nausea from the anesthesia and then didn't sleep much that night) but my happy child is back.  He has even done some tree climbing since the cast came off although I think in some ways he misses having the indestructible protection on his arm.

Fat cat

As for Joe, he is still volunteering three days a week and spouting his little gems. 


Diesel is still fat and happy.

Life at the Sparks house is back to normal -- whatever that is!!!!