Through

I was reading my daughter's weekly spelling words to her yesterday.  I read the word then give an example sentence.  Then she likes to come up with her own sentence before spelling the word.

Mine:
Through- Go through the tunnel.

Hers:
Through- I am going through a midlife crisis.

She is nine.

Crazy

It turns out I may actually be a little bit crazy.  I have had my suspicions for some time now, but my son's recent diagnosis has confirmed my feelings.  My son has been diagnosed with PANDAS, a very rare condition that causes debilitating OCD, anxiety, regression, sensory issues, sleep issues, movement problems, etc.  Just when I thought we had exhausted all the autism treatments out there, he receives this new diagnosis that brings with it a whole new set of (expensive) treatment options.  I can't tell you how excited my husband was to find out that there is still a chance that I can drive us into bankruptcy within the next few years.  In researching this condition I discovered that almost all parents of PANDAS children suffer from PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder).  In reading the symptoms I have decided that this may very well be the case with me, especially when it comes to health or nutrition issues.  Walking into the grocery store is a nightmare for me.  It is like being in a house of horror.  Everywhere I turn there is a new terror lurking.  The entire time I hear the demonic chanting "Can we get this."  I want to curl up in the fetal position and go to my happy place, but I know the only escape is to get out as fast as I can.  Waiting to check out, I pry my son's hands off a bag of M&Ms and replace it with a lighter.  For a split second fire seems less dangerous thane colorings and preservatives not to mention the sugar.  Glancing at the woman's cart in front of me I fight off the urge to call social services after assessing the items half hidden by her toddler.  Macaroni and Cheese, Ramen, Chips, two cartons of ice cream; oh the horror!  But wait!  There behind the twelve pack of root beer is a package of baby carrots.  Please say they are organic.

Talent

I have been wishing that my autistic son would develop an interest in something...anything.  "Be careful what you wish for".  Mine was granted.  His new interest has really formed into an obsessive talent.  He came upon it a few days ago and well, practice makes perfect.  He might very well be the loudest child belcher to have ever lived.  I usually try to encourage my children's natural talents, but I might have to make an exception this time.  On the bright side, this awesome new ability may be the key for him to become more socially accepted among his seven year old male peers.

Wake up Call

I hear a rustling outside my bedroom door.  I look at my clock; 6:55am.  I groan and roll over.  I guess no one told my four year old that it is possible to sleep in once in a while.  My dream is to sleep in until 8:00am.  The door opens slightly and I see a smiling face peek through the crack.  My son pushes the door open and I see the cause of his excitement.  In his hands is a cookie sheet.  I can't help but smile as he walks slowly toward me trying to keep food from rolling off the tray.  He is so proud of himself as he displays the breakfast he has prepared for me; a peach and a tomato.  This is one of those moments that make motherhood all worth it.  I thank him and tell him how much I love him.  He opens his mouth to speak those words I have been waiting to hear, "I'll go get you a knife."  He darts from the room.  The race is on.  I fly out of bed knowing I have 0.3 seconds to get to the kitchen.  The day is off to an exciting start.

Numbers

Baths my son has had today:  3
Fecal smearing incidents I have cleaned up today: 3
Times my son has thrown up from the stress of losing his favorite toy: 1
Loads of laundry I have done today: 3
Loads of laundry still needing to be done: 5
Temptations to runaway from home today: 10
Times I have been forced back to reality: 30

Spring Cleaning

It is officially summer and we spent the week swimming.....in our basement.  It is great.  You don't have to worry about the kids getting sunburned.  Actually, our recent flooding got cleaned up rather quickly thanks to some close family members and men from our church that spent an evening trudging up and down our stairs.  My husband is now home again, and I put him right to work sorting the basement, a project we have been working on for the past three years.  In penance for being absent during the flooding he did not hesitate to comply with my new list of chores.  We already have about twenty large garbage bags in our garage waiting to be donated to the local thrift store and we are only about halfway done.  This flood finally gave us enough reason to clean out the past eleven years of hording.  My husband says that maybe the flood was a blessing in disguise.  Easy for him to say, he didn't have to wade through the lake!  In all fairness, he is now up to his waist in junk.

God's Humor

God must be somewhat bored.  I think he is sitting up in heaven contemplating ways to push my buttons.  I think he finds it funny.  For example, my husband is away this week helping a friend move across country.  This situation was somewhat stressful for me after having just been gone myself for two weeks.  My autistic son's therapy caused quite a bit of anxiety for him and he is just starting to recover from the stress of it all.  Add on that the very restrictive diet that he, my other sons and myself have been put on, and I have been a picture of mental health this week.  So I decided to join my family at grandpa's house for memorial weekend for a little fun.  The weekend went great until the last day when my son started freaking out over food that he was not allowed to eat.  His stress level went through the roof and therefore so did mine.  I whisked my children away to return to our own home only to find that he was even more upset that we left grandma's house.  He began screaming when he recognised our exit.  Apparently, he had thought we were just going on a three hour joy ride.  The screaming continued for an hour.  The boy's bedtime was moved forward to 6:00pm that night, because by then I was done.  I had a bit of an emotional breakdown at this point and practically begged God to give me a break because I couldn't take any more.  This is where God's sense of humor kicked in.  He decided to prove me wrong.  At 9:30pm I stepped off the last step of my basement stairs to find myself wading in three inches of water.  The entire basement was completely covered.  My husband and had I talked about getting a swimming pool this summer, but the basement wasn't my first choice of location.