92 posts tagged “kids”

Thanks to everyone!  Your understanding and support are wonderful.

#

My problem yesterday was that I was off my guard.  I didn't think of the movies as a danger zone. 

Some environments and activities, we know they're trouble.  Say, shopping at Meijer's -- you could not pay me enough to do grocery shopping with E.S. in tow.  (Believe me -- I've tried it before and it's just not worth the mental and emotional anguish.)  So we either just don't take him to those, or we're mentally prepared for the Stop-Drop-&-Roll treatment (which in this case means, Stop what you're doing, Drop everything, and Roll on out of there). 

But he's gone to countless movies over the past 3 years, and never had a problem before. 

Talking it over, D.H. and I think we made several errors in judgment.

(1) We were a little worried about going to a new Pixar movie on opening weekend.  In retrospect, we should have listened to that little worry.  The theatre was more crowded than they usually are when we go.

(2) We should have picked a row where there was no one in front of us, to be bothered by E.S. fidgets. 

(3) One of us should have taken E.S. in hand, quietly, the first time the Guy turned around.  We shouldn't have assumed that E.S. would respond appropriately to the Guy's request. 

(4) We should have had a little "review" of consideration-for-other-movie-goers ground rules, before we went in.  It would have benefited all the kids, really.  Often when we go to a public place like this, it helps a lot to have a little chat ahead of time about expected behavior and consequences for misbehavior.

#

I think that normally movies aren't a problem for Eldest Son b/c he gets so engrossed in the screen world.  I think the problem here stemmed from the fact that the Guy jolted him out of that world with his first request to stop the kicking.  Up to that point, I'm quite sure E.S. was not even aware of his swinging legs, or that his feet would bother the Guy. 

All of a sudden, he's jolted out of the movie world and criticized for something he didn't even know he was doing.  Yes, the Guy was calm-but-firm, polite.  I'm still not saying the Guy did anything wrong. 

Doesn't matter; E.S. would see it as criticism and suddenly get all anxious and defensive.  He was already excited about going to the movie, and whether the excitement is good or bad, they both pile up inside him until he blows his stack. 

The rigidity of Asperger's:  The harder you push Eldest Son, the harder he digs in his heels.  But, faced with an apparently defiant child, an adult's instinct is to push harder, to insist even more firmly that the kid toe the line.  But, the harder you push E.S., the harder he digs in his heels.  And the harder you want to push him to obey.  And the harder he digs in his heels.  And...

So when the Guy asked him AGAIN to stop kicking, E.S. dug in his heels harder.  And then when D.H. said to him sternly about how he had to move, or leave, he dug in his heels even harder still. 

And, because he hadn't MEANT to do any of it and he was now getting worried and anxious about having to leave the movie which he didn't want to miss... BOOM!  He couldn't contain his internal pressure, and started howling.  Which, of course, led exactly TO the thing he was most afraid of, being taken out and having to miss the rest of it.

#

The problem with E.S. is, at the moment when his behavior is the most annoying to those around him, that's when he most needs them to be patient and keep their cool with him.  When adults get angry at him, that makes it harder for him to get back on track. 

Other kids, you use "The Voice" or give "The Look" that says, "You're treading on thin ice, buster, and you'd better shape up" -- maybe it works.  They back down.  They bow to the adult's authority and want to avoid making an adult angry with them.  They do shape up. 

With E.S., it backfires.  Believe me.  It's the Negative Spiral of Doom, and I've experienced it myself countless times.  Even though I KNOW this, sometimes I still can't help getting sucked in. 

Signs of adult anger make him anxious. When he gets more anxious, he gets more rigid and obsessive and perseverative.  When he gets rigid and obsessive and perseverative, he CAN'T let go of whatever it is.  He really, truly CAN'T.  No matter how irrational it may be.  ("I can't SEE as well from there!" -- 3 seats to the left)  You've got to break him out of that negative loop, and you can't do that with an angry voice, because an angry voice just adds to his anxiety, and that just makes him more rigid and obsessive and perseverative, and even LESS able to let go of it, and...

The Negative Spiral of Doom.

The harder you push, the harder he digs in his heels. 

What it's kind of like is, well, it's kind of like Windows crashing. 

"A Fatal Error Has Been Detected." 

Only thing left is to reboot.

With E.S., rebooting requires being removed from the situation. 

So, D.H. stepped up and did it. 

#  

Last night as he was getting ready for bed, E.S. asked me to tell him what happened in the rest of the movie (which made me want to cry again). 

So I think one of us is going to take him back to try again.  Probably D.H., since he missed it too.  Just the two of them.  When Eldest Son is one on one with an adult, he's much more easy to manage.  Plus, we'll keep in mind our 4 lessons learned (above). 

Tomorrow we have a big meeting at his school to go over his IEP (Individual Education Plan).  This will be a help going into next year.  Although, this year's teacher has really been pretty awesome.  But we want be sure we capture whatever her magic pixie dust is, and hand it off to next year's teacher.  In a bottle with a nice little bow on it. 

Phew.

Okay.  'Nuff about this.  Let's move on. 

Don't ask me why; the kid's been to plenty of movies in theatres before and never had a problem.

Yes, he took all his meds today just fine. 

But, just got back from an "Asperger's moment" at a showing of the new Pixar movie "Up," and it's still upsetting me.

#

Eldest Son was wiggling.  He can't help it; he's fidgety.  Apparently he kicked the seat of the guy in front of him; apparently he did it enough to bug the guy.  Guy's a grown-up, a dad; his own wife and girl are there too.  Daughter seems about the age of Eldest Son.

Guy turns around and says to Eldest Son, politely, "Will you please stop kicking my seat?" And we all think that's the end of it.

('Course not!)

5 minutes later, Guy turns around and says AGAIN to Eldest Son, "Will you PLEASE stop kicking my seat??"

D.H. intervenes, saying strictly to E.S., "You need to move, or else you're leaving."

E.S. goes rigid in his seat and starts to ask loudly, "Why do I have to move?"

I try to play peacemaker, saying, "Just come over here with me" (to where there isn't anyone in front of us) "I'll move too."

E.S.:  "NO!  I can't SEE as well from there!"  (3 seats to the left.)

D.H. (to me):  "He has to move, or else he's leaving."

E.S. (bursting into loud, shocking, sobs):  "NO!  Why do I have to move?  I didn't do it!"

But I get him to move.  I sit down with him, 3 seats over.

Crisis averted?

Heavens no!

E.S. cannot stop sobbing.  Loud, heart-rending sobs.  I hiss, "E.S., you HAVE to be quiet, or you will have to leave!"

E.S. (loudly, sobbing): "I WILL be quiet, if you'll just tell me why I had to move!"

Me, whispering: "I'll tell you afterwards, but you need to be quiet, RIGHT NOW!"

E.S. (sobbing):  "I CAN'T!"

(It's true, when he gets like this, he can't.)

Me:  "Just try!  Please!  I don't want you to have to--"

Mom from row in front of me gets in my face:  "I know he's upset, but my daughters can't hear the movie, and--"

Me:  "I understand, but my son has Asperger's, and--"

Other Mom:  "I understand, but my daughters--"

D.H. (from further down the row):  "He has to leave, now!" 

D.H. grabs E.S. and hustles him out. 

I slink over to sit between my two normal ("neurotypical" or NT) children for the rest of the movie, weeping -- silently.

#

What do you do when you have an eight-year-old who looks like a ten-year-old and talks like a twelve-year-old -- and can't manage himself in a movie theatre as well as his four-year-old brother?

Did the guy in front of us have the right to watch a movie without having his seat kicked?  Yes, of course.

Did the mom in front of us have the right for her daughers to watch the movie without being disturbed by my son's howls?  Yes, of course.

Did someone have to remove E.S. from the situation until he could calm down?  Yes, of course -- and since I didn't do it when it became necessary, D.H. had to.

Was there some way we could have handled the situation so that my eight-year-old child could have seen the rest of the movie just like all the other kids?

What should we have done differently?

#

Guy no doubt left the theatre thinking he was in the right, thinking, or perhaps even saying out loud to his fam, "Can you believe that mom wouldn't take that rotten kid out of the movie theatre?"

Guy and Mom in Front of Me were probably congratulating themselves on the calm-but-firm way they stood up for their rights to that over-indulgent mama who was letting her kid get away with murder.

Other parents probably were thinking, "How dare that noisy brat ruin the movie for the rest of us!"

Other parents may have said to their kids later, "No kid of mine's ever gonna behave that way!"  (I have had one boy innocently report to me that his parents said that to him, concerning Eldest Son's behavior.) 

And they're probably right, none of their kids WILL behave that way, and lucky for them.  But instead of patting themselves on the back for what good parents they are, in reality, they need to realize it's because their kids are NT.  After all, my NT kids did fine, too. 

#

Agreed -- Eldest Son had to leave the theatre, at the point where he couldn't keep quiet.  I KNOW that when he crosses that line, he really, truly CAN'T help it -- and I should have let D.H. take him out in the first place, before he started howling.  Maybe he could have gotten it together in the lobby and come back in. 

If an epileptic kid went into seizures in the theatre, they'd take him out -- he can't help it. 

If a diabetic kid got low-blood-sugar-y and started to convulse, they'd take him out -- he can't help it. 

I should have taken E.S. out myself.  I should have let D.H. take him out.

But I didn't want him to miss the movie, either. 

I really, really wanted for him to just move to another seat and calm down, and watch the rest of the movie. 

He was almost there -- I truly do BELIEVE he was almost there -- when Mom in Front of Me had to stand up for her daughters' rights.  (Can I blame her, really?  If all my kids were NT, wouldn't I do the same?)  But then it was Game Over. 

#

So, everybody -- can you please have a little more compassion if you see something similar happening? 

Do you really believe that a kid that big would behave in such a way as to have to leave a movie he really wanted to see -- if he could help it? 

Do you really believe that a parent who cared enough to take all her kids to a movie like that would allow him to behave that way if there weren't extenuating circumstances?

Remember, we paid money for the tickets, too.  And 2 of our 5 family members missed half the movie.

#

This is our life.  Always on edge, never sure when or where, exactly, the explosion will occur -- just knowing that sooner or later, it will.  And, when it does, neither we as parents nor our child will be viewed with compassion by those around us, but rather, will be judged.  And judged harshly.  Will be blamed.    

#

Dear fellow movie-goers:  Y'all had to put up with a couple of minutes of it in the movie theatre, then D.H. obligingly removed the problem from your midst. 

We live it. 

We eat, sleep, and breathe it.  Literally. 

Every meal we eat as a family is influenced by Eldest Son's rigidity, his obsessiveness, his socially inappropriate outbursts.  Every evening is shaped by his inability to turn off his restless mind and just go to sleep -- like our NT kids do.  Every picnic, every party, every school play, every play date (not that there are many of those), every visit to a playground, every family get-together -- we live it. 

Waiting for the explosion that, sooner or later, WILL come.  We cannot escape it.

Eldest Son lives it too. 

Everyone's always mad at him.  He's always getting hauled off from one thing or another because of his outbursts.

Do you think he likes that?  Do you think that's fun for him? 

He lives it too.  He can't escape it either.

It's in his head.  It's who he is.  He can't escape it either.

And doesn't he have rights too?

#

So what SHOULD we have done differently?  So that Guy's rights and Mom in Front of Me's daughters' rights, AND Eldest Son's rights could have happily coexisted? 

Should have hauled him out sooner -- check.  But then that might have precipitated the very explosion we were trying to avoid.  (Believe me, that's a frequent occurrence.)

Should we have him wear a scarlet A on his head, and explain to everyone around us exactly what it means to be a kid with Asperger's?  Or is it none of their stinkin' bidness?  Or does it become their bidness when his neurological problems disturb their peace? 

(By the way, we've avoided talking to him in terms of the "label."  He knows he's different and finds some things hard that come easily to others, but we've never sat him down and said, "You have Asperger's and this is what it means."  Maybe we should and we intend to later -- but his therapist agrees that now is not the time, yet.  -- He was too wound up to have noticed when I whispered it to Mom in Front of Me.)

In retrospect, I wish I had asked E.S. to sit on my lap or something the first time Guy turned around.  But, at that time I already had Littlest Brother on my lap -- he had been burying his face in my shoulder at some scary part, I no longer remember what.  So I was preoccupied and didn't pay enough attention to the incident until it was too late.

When your oldest child is a special-needs child, and your younger children are still young enough to be needy, whose needs do you drop?  You're juggling these 3 little eggs, which one do you let go splat on the floor?   

Today at the movies, it was Eldest Son.

As in, thought I'd died and gone to.

So the kids have all decided to do Tae Kwon Do, and the local place has all their little classmates so we went there too and they offered us 3 free trial lessons.  They've all had their first free lesson this week.

Eldest Son is in a program for kids 8 & up (Karate for Kids), while Precious Princess and Littlest Brother are in Tiny Tigers (for ages 4 - 6). 

You see these little guys in there, holding up their little fists and piping out "ai-YAH!", fierce little scowls on their adorable muppet faces, and it's just about the cutest thing you ever saw! 

And they're all hooked. And I think it's gonna be a good thing.  (I was a little worried about it, for various reasons, but, I think it's gonna be a good thing.)

Actually, it looks like so much fun, I want to sign up myself!

#

So, I'm gradually getting clients.  I'm on my sixth one now, and one client gave me repeat business already.  Good feedback on the jobs board.  Still, it's not reliable enough to be able to hire a regular nanny, even part time.  (Because, dear Punkinshell, I only get to hire the babysitter when the hourly rate I'm getting can justify it!)

Most of what I'm writing for pay has to do with business, marketing in particular.  And, in doing the research for these pieces, I'm actually getting a lot of ideas for what I need to do to get my own little business off the ground. 

#

I'm also still working on my fiction.  Keep The Dream Alive!!!

I've got to get back to my novel outline.  Outlining Is Your Friend.  At least, it's mine.  Once I've got a good outline, things practically write themselves.  It's the getting to a good outline that's the challenge.     :-)

This is what made the most lasting impression on Precious Princess after last night's adventure.  At least, this is the first thing she said about it to Grandma when it got to be her turn to talk.

Later, after we got home, she had to write it all down right away. (I think she'll be a journal-writer when she gets older; I recognize that impulese.)  She made herself an illustrated book about it, using staples to connect the pages. 

She wrote it all down again during free play at school today.  In our school district's kindergarten and throughout much of first grade, they let the kids use "natural language" while they are learning to sound things out.  Now in second grade, Eldest Son has spelling words that he has to learn to write correctly every week.  He also is learning correct punctuation.  But not in kindergarten.

So, here is Precious Princess's best effort to sound out and write down her adventure:

I WOTID TO GO ON THE EVADRE   THE EVADRE GOT SUK   THE EVADRE MAD A LOD NOS AND IT WUD NOT SOTP.  WE WR SUK FOR A LOLN TOM  FONNULIE THE MCNIC UPID THE DUR.  WEN WE GOT OWT THR WR ULOT UV PPUL.

:-)

(ps - just for Punkinshell - Princess strenuously resists the idea that words should be written with lower-case letters...)

It was the biggest adventure of the evening at our church, and there were a lot of people waiting around to see how things turned out.  Dear Husband was stuck in the elevator along with all three of our children, an elderly lady in a wheelchair, and her friend who was pushing the chair.  They were in there about half an hour. Nice that the elevator company apparently has people in the area who are on call to rush out at 7:30 PM and fix a problem right away.  He was the hero of the evening, for sure!  And he had a mustache. 

Eldest Son's assessment as soon as he got out:  "It was boring." 

(Though, he did have quite a lot more to say about it to Grandma on the phone, later...)

:-)

Littlest Brother's pronouncement was, "I never, ever, ever want to go on that elevator again!"  (Though using phonetically spelling, it would go something like this:  "I nevo, evo, EVO want to go on dat ewevado again!")

:-)

Thank goodness none of them had to go potty!  I carefully refrained from asking, lest the power of suggestion rear its ugly head...

Oh, how did I manage to escape this fate?  Well, we had been leading a class for the younger kids (age 4 thru 2nd grade).  At the end of the class, our kids were getting wild, so Dear Husband decided to take them out to the playpark while I waited in the classroom for the other kids' parents to come and retrieve them.  Precious Princess in particular, but really all of them, love to go on the elevator at our church, even though it's only one flight of stairs.  (Well, not any more!  Dear Husband thinks they're cured of that, at least for a while...)  Needless to say, they did not get to play on the playpark after all, and they were wired on adrenaline for an hour after we got them home.  Late bedtimes all around.

Cheers.

(In case you don't know what gnif-gnaws are -- I can't recall now if that's a bit of family dialect or I first heard it at work, my old work back at Auto Company B, or C -- they are little miscellaneous grimbly bits of this 'n' that. 

Pronunciation:  the g is silent.  I suppose you could just as easily spell it with a silent k, but I prefer the g, b/c it's like, "gnats" and "gnomes" and like that.  Little things like that.)

Today's Gnif-Gnaws Are:

- Precious Princess and Littlest Brother now DO have secondary infections.  Ah well.  I don't think I do, yet.  This virus is hanging on forever, though.  I actually think it might be the flu; we all aren't lying flat on our backs in bed, groaning, only b/c we had the flu shots back in the fall.  I've heard that sometimes with the flu shot, you still can get the flu, but a milder case.  Anyway, it's taking forever to get over, so it seems worse than a regular cold.

- The counters are still a mess, but, I actually think I may hit them today.  After the dishes and the laundry.  Later this week, I've got to tackle the computer room table.  Grandma gave the kids her old computer, and we need a place to set it up.

- PS, I hate feeling pitiful!  Gah, I hate coming to the blog and whining!  (That's part of why I haven't been blogging much, lately...) 

The last few months, I've just gotten so tired of putting up a brave front; I do that everywhere I go in person these days.  Because, honestly, most people really do not want you to burst into tears and crumple up in a heap on the floor when they ask you how you're doing. 

Speaking of emotional energy, it takes a lot of that to put up a brave front everywhere you go.  And if you think that everywhere you go you might make contacts who could put in a good word for you if they hear of a job opening, or might hire you for freelance work (which is true), you can't go around looking defeated.  If YOU don't have confidence in you and your abilities, then why should they?

I HATE failure.  HATE, HATE, HATE it!!  I hate LOSING.  I don't always have to WIN (there are lots of activities in which nobody wins unless everybody does), but I hate to LOSE. 

The only way to be SURE of not losing, to be SURE of not failing, is never to try.  You won't WIN, either, you won't SUCCEED, but at least you won't fail.

That's very tempting, actually, very tempting.  I have never been tempted by that course of action (or rather, inaction) before, but I am now.  In the aftermath of the events of January, I felt -- I still feel -- trampled.  Eviscerated.  Smashed flat.  In that state, it's very hard to face the possibility of new failures.  

You know, some of those Mechanical Turk activities are so easy a trained wombat could do them; very difficult to fail at those.  So it's easier to plug away at those for an hour or so than to fill out yet another job application that you know in your heart is going to hit the circular file. 

So.

What I HAVE done, what I've FORCED myself to do, bracing myself to bear up against the (at this point, seemingly inevitable) failures to follow:

- Over the past month, I have submitted 6 different short stories to various publications.  About half of them have been rejected already, and I've turned around and submitted them elsewhere.

- I've set myself a goal of applying to a minimum of 2 jobs per week until I get one.  I did apply for 2 jobs yesterday, so check that off for this week.

- I've set myself a goal of getting up and running at several reputable on-line freelancing boards.  I identified several that have good ratings at the Better Business Bureau (and a few that don't, which I will be avoiding).  So, check off that accomplishment.

- I completed my profile yesterday on one of them, so check that off for this week.  

- I'm ready to start submitting bids on that freelance board.  I can submit 10 bids this month (that's the level of my subscription there) and I fully intend to use up ALL of them.  That means I need to prepare 5 proposals this week and 5 next. 

- I've also set myself a goal of contacting at least 2 former professional colleagues per week, to let them know I'm looking for work and ask if their employers have any openings.  Haven't done that yet this week.

So.

Failure is only temporary.

Now for those counters.

Oh, PS --

The other day the kids evolved a plan to run for Kid President of the House. 

Eldest Son's pitch went like this:

"If you vote for me, I'll love you more!"

Heh-heh. 

Now how did the little rascal zero in right to the heart of every politician's campaign promises?  Stripped of airy rhetoric, isn't that what they're all saying?

:-)

So I've got 3 pieces "out there" now, so we'll see.

I've got another one that I think is close.

I've finished reverse-engineering my favorite author's latest novel -- just to learn how the master did it.  From that exercise I've boiled down an outline or template of novel-writing.  (Well, it worked for her...)

Now I'm going to take a couple of my bigger pieces (that seemed to want to balloon out well beyond the 5000-word limit of most short stories, and try as I might, I couldn't stuff them back in) and try to map them onto this template.  And then see if I can't develop a working outline and then crank out a real novel or two.  Or three.  Or four. 

And moreover, I've had a few encouraging conversations over the past few days from people who want to try and hire me, one way or another (either as direct staff or as contract employee thru my marketing communications firm).  And in the end nothing may come of those efforts, but just having those conversations brightened my life considerably. 

And Eldest Son made a very responsible choice the other day, for which I was quite proud of him.  He's not supposed to chew anything hard and crunchy or soft and sticky, lest he break his appliance (rapid palatal expander).  So when the barber offered him his choice of Tootsie-Pops... HE TURNED IT DOWN.  He actually chose not to get a Tootsie-Pop, in order to live up to a rule.  Wowza! 

So.  Stuff's okay, today.

Cheers.

We're getting lots of snow. 

Sparkling, fluffy, cold, and needing to be plowed off the driveway and shoveled off the walk, sometimes twice a day. 

It's just so wonderful, until you get sick of it.

***

Took Eldest Son to his orthodontist appointment today, in which he received his first "appliance" and I got this nifty little pointy gadget with which I (or Dear Husband) must turn a tiny screw in the appliance once a day for the next month.  Very weird little system, I must say.  E.S was quite the champ in the chair, too; the whole thing went so much better than it might have gone a year ago, I'm flabbergasted. 

He really is doing better.

Going to have his kid party this Saturday, at the local inflatable bounce palace.  They love that!  A place where it's okay to bounce off the walls!  (Good God, a riot of 8-year-old boys hyped up on cake and ice cream, bouncing off the walls.  Somebody save me!)  :-)

***

Sold Girls Scout Cookies with Precious Princess for the first time; that was fun.  How it brought me back! 

"On my honor, I will try, to serve God, my country, and mankind, and to live by the Girl Scout Law."

At least, that's how we said it back then; it's a little different now, but recognizable.

***

Littlest Brother is starting to seem four now, so much more grown up than three!  He's Just So Cute!!  He's got his little opinions now, and can express them with remarkable acuity.  And he's doing great on the pottying.  Occasionally he has "issues" with unfamiliar pant-fastenings, but never an out-&-out accident where he just forgets or neglects to go.  He has dunked his bottom once, but in general almost doesn't need the potty seat any more either. 

***

Last week I saw & approved a proof of my first story to be accepted for publication (the one for $5), which means it really will appear somewhere, sometime in the near future.  That was encouraging! 

I don't have any stories out for consideration at the moment, but I mean to change that in the next week or two.  One of my more recent ones I feel is really promising (made one of my first readers cry, and she's no sissy), I just hafta polish it up a bit more.

***

Dear Husband has been a rock, an absolute rock, and I could not ask for a better friend and partner in life. 

Sweet Sixteen coming up in a couple of weeks!  (Hard to believe, that!)  (Seems like just yesterday I was writing up our fifteen-year anniversary...)

***

Cheers, all.

***

PS, Also lost 8 pounds in the past two weeks!  I guess that "no desserts, no booze thing" is paying off...

I'm a rock star. 

Anyone out there ever needs a little pick-me-up, here's what you do:

You get yourself a kindergartner, see, and then you show up to help out in the classroom.  It's especially good if you go to help at a special party or other event, but really, any schoolday will do.

When you show up, quietly observe your kindergartner.

He/She, upon catching sight of you, will grin and wave wildly, and stage whisper, "Hi, Mommy!  Mommy, hi!"  (Or Daddy, if that's your gender persuasion.)  Then he/she will wiggle all over like a little puppy dog, and nudge his/her neighbors and whisper, "That's my Mom!" (or Dad.)

Then you'll feel like a rock star, too.

(Even Eldest Son did this when he was in kindergarten.  It's a kindergarten thing.)

:-)

And my brother and his wife have an adorable baby girl.  Plus they have a great new house (new-built, which has its own tribulations), and an adorable little dust-mop dog.

I've found my dog breed.  I can hardly believe I'm saying this, I always thought I was a big-dog person, but little Sonic made a great impression on me, and Dear Husband too.  Even Eldest Son would like this dog.  He's just a little snuggle-muffin, a little bundle of affection.  Utterly non-threatening, AND (this is key) non-annoying.  I did not hear a single yip all weekend, and that included the times when people (such as myself) tripped over him.

The breed:  (drum roll, please)

Shih Tzu

Ta-da!

The only downside I could see was the need to get the dog regular hair-cuts.  Well, you win some, you lose some.

***

First weekend away without the kids, ever. 

(believe that???)

Oh, yeah, we've had the odd overnight at Grandma's, but even then, we didn't leave town.  And TWO nights in a row, and we went so far as to FLY to a moderately distant city.

Wow, that totally ROCKED!!!

We'll have to do that more often. 

The kids were all kinds of weird all last week, leading up to it, and it's been a bit of a rocky transition home this afternoon/evening, but on the whole, I'm not sorry we did it. 

I think this week things will smoothen out again.

***

What is this world coming to??

In the airport security line, the TSA was frisking a little old lady in a wheelchair with her arm in a sling. 

Because you never know when a terrorist might disguise himself as a helpless little old lady who can't even walk all the way to the gate under her own steam.  Or, you never know when the terrorists are going to start activating those sleeper cells they planted in assisted living facilities all over the nation.  It only LOOKS like a knitting circle, but in reality, the old ladies are passing secret messages using Morse code made up of knits & purls in place of dots and dashes.  (Don't believe me?  See:  Madame Defarge.)

Look out, world, here comes Ninja Granny!  Watch out, she's going to leap out of that wheelchair and pull some numchuks out of her sling!!

It's completely insane.

America is shuffling along in its stocking feet, trying to look Innocent.  America has all its little toiletries in a clear plastic ziploc for all the world to see ("Hm...  Preparation H... Very Interesting...").  America is turning on its laptop to prove it doesn't contain a cleverly concealed bomb.  America is watching the patting-down of little old ladies in wheelchairs.

Isn't there a better way?

There's got to be a better way.

***

ANNND...  Back into the fray tomorrow!

***

Oh, PS -- Grandma and Pap-pap took them all to the circus yesterday!  And by "all," I mean, not just my three, but also their two cousins.  (Yipes!)  And, everyone was a Perfect Angel.  Yeah!  Rock ON, Grandma! 

Grandma sprang for seats in Row 6, which meant they couldn't get any souvenirs and very few refreshments (Grandma's wonderfully self-disciplined in the expenditures & budgeting sense) (two things of popcorn cost $15!!), but she was glad she did, because being so close helped hold their attention & keep them from getting naughty.  She explained this to them at the outset (the part about how she wouldn't be getting them any souvenirs, so don't ask), and they all took it wonderfully to heart, neglecting to whine and pester.  Wow.  Good on-ya, Grandma!

So, all was well.

Cheers!