Skip to main content

Driving Ms Daisy

After our the second of our three cats died in August, #3 was obsessed about getting a new cat. "Psycho is lonely. We need to get her a baby," he'd say.  Uh, she's 14. I think she's WAY beyond wanting babies. Yes, our cat is named Psycho. Did you expect anything less?

#3 doesn't have a lot of currencies, that is, things don't matter very much to him. When he is in trouble or going down the road to trouble, if you threaten to take away his toys, he won't care. There is very little he is interested in besides his legos and on some days, not even them.

So when his birthday was approaching and we asked him what he wanted for his birthday, he immediately said, "I want a cat." And the answer never changed, not once.

One afternoon I took him to the animal shelter so he could look at cats. One cat took an instant liking to me. I looked down to see which cat was rubbing against my legs and as soon as saw her, I said, "well hello, big fatty." She was a tortoise shell cat with a little dainty face and little paws and a HUGE belly, and a little short tail. #3 heard me, laughed and said, "she needs a last name. Let's call her Big Fatty Mailbox." I bent down to pet her and she swatted at me. One of the workers warned me, "be careful, she isn't very nice." I guess she'll be there forever. See ya Big Fatty Mailbox.

After the trip, he told me he still wanted a kitten. I guess we were going to have to do it.

After a potential kitten fell through, we took the whole crew back to the shelter. This time, they had kittens. After the kids played with a few of them, #2 declared we were going to adopt one and went with me to inquire about adoption. Entirely on his own, he approached a woman and asked her if she worked there. When she said "yes", he told her "we want to adopt a kitten. It is orange. Come with me." I didn't get a word in. I guess we really were adopting a cat. I was just going to inquire about it.

We paid and loaded everyone in the van. The new kitten in her travel box was placed securely on #3's lap. As we drove home, I asked the kids what we should name it. #3 answered, "let's name her Ms. Daisy" and all the kids agreed.

I had to keep myself from cracking up that we were driving miss daisy home.

Miss Daisy, welcome to Casa de Crazy.


Popular posts from this blog

Zipping and Buttoning in the new dimension

We just bought #1 jeans for the first time. At the age of 14, he just mastered how to zip and button pants. Yes, I am crying.

In the last few years, he has grown considerably. In just four years, he went from a very cute 10/12 to an adult extra large. His feet are a men's size 12. We have big people stock. 

I had the moment when I realized that he has outgrown most of his clothes, so I had to take him shopping. I let him select colors and types of clothes; hoodies, t-shirts, sweatpants, and then I selected a few pairs of jeans to try. He hasn't worn jeans since he was a toddler because once he had to zip and button them himself, he couldn't. He just didn't have the strength or dexterity in his hands to do it.

In the fitting room, I told him, "We're going to try on some jeans, just to see." He managed to button and zip each pair I handed him, ON HIS OWN. I was thrilled.  Once we found the right size, colors and cuts, we tired on outfits, and he liked his r…

A letter to my fellow special needs moms

Dear fellow mom of a special needs child,

I want you to know that when I met you,  there was something about you that made me want to become friends with you. It wasn't the fact that your kid also had a disability, it was that I sensed that there was so much more to you that I wanted to learn about. Your kid sharing the same diagnosis as mine, wasn't a factor in my choice.

But it seems lately, that that is the only thing you want to talk about.

As you know, every single one of my five children have a developmental disability. It is a hard and draining journey and it makes life really difficult most of the time. When I get to leave the house, the goal is to spend time with people who make me laugh and refresh my spirit so when I go home, I can be a better person. I don't want to talk about my kids, I don't want to talk about therapies, or school problems, I just want to be me. I want to shelve the problems I experience every day and just take a break.

The problem is, al…

Diary of a music mom

Since fifth grade, both #1 and #2 have been playing instruments; #1, the saxophone and #2, the trombone. #1, Autism classic, plays the very same saxophone that I started on in fifth grade. I  teach him daily and we go once a week to our new sax teacher and they work on jazz. #2, the aspy is a lot more autonomous and he doesn't require my attention when he practices and gets by with his weekly skype lessons from grandpa and his private teacher.

Every year, our school district hosts a solo and ensemble festival. The kids have roughly eight weeks to choose a listed piece and then perform it with an accompaniment. Every year, I make the boys participate even though it means I need to spend more time with #1 to make sure he doesn't sound like a moose in the wild and more like a saxophone player.

It always turns out like this:
I choose the new piece and we trudge through it slowly and painfully.
I second guess my choice because I think it's too much, too hard, too intricate for …