I want candy

Over the last few weeks, I read countless posts about candy; ranging from eating the candy that was intended for the kids, sorting the Halloween bounty, kids eating their hard earned treats, and the videos of children reacting to being told that all their candy was eaten by someone else.

The truth is, that in our house, candy isn't a big deal. Unless it is dark chocolate. But dark chocolate is chock-full of antioxidants and has ingredients I can pronounce and define. It is fruit of the earth.

Long before we had the kids, Husband and I made an agreement that we weren't going to give them food with little nutritional value. Kids only knew what we taught them and if we taught them about whole foods and nutrition, then that is what they would know and eat. We weren't gong to use food as rewards, or something given as an expression of love. We weren't going to completely deny them of it. If they wanted to try it, fine, but it was limited. But then we entered the world of ABA and incentives and rewards, but that is a different ball of wax.

Over the years, we can say that we've been moderately successful with our plan. #1 doesn't care about candy at all. #2 has impulsive behavior, so the limitations we already had in place, have served him well. #3 and The Twins like some candy, but they also have taken bites out of lesser quality candy and handed it right back to me.

This Halloween, we dressed them all up, and we hit the hood. We reviewed the Halloween protocol: One member of our team would ring or knock once. When a person opened the door, everyone would say "trick or treat" and then after candy was placed in their bags, they would say "Thank you! Happy Halloween."  We wound up having to prep them at almost every house. It's seven words people. Get it down.

 For #1, trick or treating was more about checking out our neighbors houses and seeing who lived there, than the candy. Every house he'd ask, "what's your name again?" Um, you never knew it buddy. They just live among us. At least this year he wasn't trying to enter every single house on the block.  

#2 the Aspy, has the triple allergy: wheat, eggs, and dairy.  For him, trick or treating is all about finding the houses that give him the treats he can have. When he found a house that had Starbursts or Smarties, he was mega-excited. "Look Mom, THEY HAVE SKITTLES!!!!!" Victory dance followed. You work those moves, Wolverine.

#3 was the challenge.  At each house, he would get his piece of candy and then stand there waiting for a second opportunity to score. After the fourth time, we asked why he didn't say "thank you" and get out of the way. He replied that he knew they wanted to give him more candy and if he continued to stand there, they would give it to him. What a clever little bugger.  The candy stalker. Give that kid 100 snicker bars.

The twins were happy to walk around in their costumes, but after the 10th house, they didn't care about the candy, the walk or the fun and wanted to go home.

When we got home, I offered all the kids goodie bags in exchange for their candy. "You can all keep 10 peices of candy and you can trade the rest." The girls glady accepted their dollar store goodies and they kept all of the M&M's. #1 handed me the bag and didn't even want to exchange it for anything, "You can have it. I dont want it,"he said, as he ran off to watch Just Dance Videos.

#2 divided the bag into two piles: the "what I CAN eat" and "what I CAN'T eat". He refused to trade, but asked if he could take the candy and conduct science experiments with it. We let him unwrap the candy and melt it in the microwave. He liked to see which candy melted first and what color it turned and compared the smells. You go buddy. Melt that shit up. So much better than eating it.

 #3 refused to exchange at all. He wanted his bag of candy. He wanted to play with it and eat it. Everyday since Halloween, he asks to eat candy. I always tell him he can have a piece after he finishes his reading. "Aw mom, why you have to be so mean?" he moans. "Well, it's just becasue it comes so naturally," I reply, "no bookie, no candy." Maybe at some point the novelty will wear off, but the meaness, well, that's here to stay. 

So, what did we do with their candy? We gave a bunch to school and they donated it to some hospitals for the kids. I know, like they need that shit? but I digress. We put the rest in a jar on top of the china cabinet for friends that are in desperate need of sugar, or if we need an incentive for #3 or The Twins.

And what did we hand out to the kids this year? We handed out pencils, spider rings, stickers and pretzels. 

No one egged our house.
No one would dare. 
I am from NJ and I own a pick-axe.

Pink reigns supreme

We were playing the fairy game again. A fairy customer would enter the store and once Twin R clicked on her, the text of what she wanted appeared on the screen. The fairy would order an item for a certain season in a particular color. The problem was, the twins can't read yet and I had to be their translator. The bigger problem was Twin R didn't always agree with the customer. She loves pink, she is the human form of Pinkalicious, and if it's not pink, it's putrid. 

Her favorite fairy, Rosetta flew into the store and her words floated to the bottom of the screen.  I read them to her:"I would love a flitterific head band in green." Oh shit, she said green. And the moment the word "green" flew out of my mouth, Twin R lost it entirely. She was yelling at me all because her favorite fairy wanted a green headband. Like it my fault that her favorite fairy fell from pink.  She was red-faced fury and didn't understand why that fairy would want anything other than pink.


When she screams like that, it is so loud and painful, my ears cry. Please make it stop. I  tried to calm her down by telling her, "she is a color friendly fairy. She embraces all colors of the rainbow." That is more than we can say about Russia at the moment. "NO! YOU'RE STUPID MOMMY!" whoa, she's getting personal here. I'm just the translator.,  she yelled back. "SHE IS PINK.  SHE WEARS PINK. SHE IS MY FAIRY AND SHE WEARS PINK!!! NO GREEN." Can't be your Russian heritage shining through, it is a pink pride parade.

How do you move on from there?

I did the one logical thing that made her happy. I told her, "Make the clothing you want to make. Make it all pink. And if the customers don't want it, drop them  and find customers that appreciate your work." That won't land her any jobs in the future, but maybe she'll be the next big diva designer and she won't have to care.  With those instructions, she smiled, grabbed my iPad and walked away. Give that mommy a prize. You are a winner!

I went to the kitchen, poured a vodka & v-8 and celebrated not having to read any more fairy orders.

 It was a win-win.

Vocabulary Words, Fractions and Wine-Repost

Tonight I feel like I should put a sticky on #1's homework explaining that I had a couple of glasses of wine before I sat down to help him. His homework involved writing 12 sentences with his vocabulary words. This week his vocabulary words were contractions. He was given the original form and had to find the contraction and write a sentence. I also had to help him prepare for his math test.

 #1 is more text book autistic. Of the three boys, he is the least functioning. Although he still is considered high functioning, there are moments he seems to be conversing with aliens. He does have  a great sense of humor, so we use that to help him learn. We make up silly things or songs to make learning a bit easier for him.

For him to come up with his own sentences, I have to make up several model type sentences to cement pragmatics with him. One of the methods I have for learning new vocabulary stems back to my days at Cornell in the intensive Chinese language program. We used to make the most obnoxious sentences we could with our new words. It was an exercise in humor and pragmatics.

So this evening, with wine in my system, we got the homework done. I should say now, as a side bar, that #1 is very food motivated; picky, but he likes his food. He is the kid at the pool who can walk up to anyone who is eating pizza, look at them and say "pizza, I love pizza. Can I have some" and he asks this question as he is reaching into the box with a hand on a slice. He is the stealth stealer of cookies, pretzels and other carbs. So this evening his sentences were food orientated.

First contraction: I will= I'll
My sentences: "I'll be having another drink shortly. I'll be glad when we have a babysitter. I'll soon be committed to a sanatorium."
His sentence: "I'll get to eat cookies."

Second contraction: I have= I've
My sentences: "I've got to get a local babysitter. I've got to buy more duct tape. I've got to make sure the other kids aren't trashing the house while I'm sitting here."
His sentence: "I've been eating pizza all day long"

Third contraction: Would not= Wouldn't
My sentences: " I wouldn't want to run out of vodka. I wouldn't want to vacuum up #3's lego pieces. I wouldn't want you to get diarrhea."(he laughs)
His sentence: "She wouldn't share her food."

Fourth contraction: Should not= Shouldn't
My  sentences: "You shouldn't put duct tape on the cat. You shouldn't eat fish and peanut butter sandwiches. You shouldn't go into our creepy neighbor's home. Ever."
His sentence:"She shouldn't be so selfish"

Fifth contraction: It will= It'll
My sentences: "It'll be a good day when we have a babysitter that comes back. It'll be great when I have a pool boy."
His sentence: "It'll be a good day."

Sixth contraction: Will not=Won't
My sentences: "I won't go to Walmart and act like a peacock. I won't mix beer and vodka. I won't run outside without clothes."(he smiles)
His sentence: "I won't steal your food."

Seventh contraction: Did not=didn't
My  sentences: "I didn't eat your pizza. I didn't know parenthood could be this much fun."
His sentence: "I didn't eat your food."

Eighth contraction: They have=they've
My sentences: They've come to take me to the funny farm. They've offered me more wine"
His sentence: "They've given me cookies."

Ninth contraction: I am=I'm
My sentences: "I'm losing my mind.  I'm in need of more wine. I'm going to have to write a note to your teacher."
His sentence: "I'm going to eat my food."

Tenth contraction: Can not= Can't
My sentences: "What do yo mean, I can't buy vodka on Sunday? I can't believe they found me again." 
His sentence: "You can't eat my food."

Eleventh contraction: Where did= Where'd
My sentences:"Where'd all my brain cell go? Where'd all the wine in my glass go?"
His sentence: "Where'd my pizza go?"

Twelfth contraction: You have=You've
My sentences: "You've got to be kidding me with these fractions. Sorry, you've been mistaken, if you think I remember anything about fractions." 
His sentence: "You've got to give me more pizza."


During the time he was writing, I looked over the review for his math test. Fractions, my favorite. I am so horrible at fractions. I started to laugh when I saw this:

 I didn't see "I don't give a crap" as an option. Who goes to Iowa anyway?


What fraction of questions will your mom get right based on her inadequate math education?

What fraction properly represents how much your mother cares about fractions?

I didn't see, "enough to make my ass grow", as a possible answer. I could explain my estimate this way: "My pants fit much better before I ate the pie and now I have to lie on the bed and use pliers to zip up my pants."

What fraction represents the number of fourth graders that know fractions better than your mother? Explain your work. My mom killed too many brain cells in college and the rest are dying at an alarming rate.

When my husband heard me cackling in the dining room, he decided it was time to take over. Good idea, cause I think I have to write a sticky note

Breaking the record

"MOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM", I heard #2 the Aspy, calling me in the "I know the people in South America can hear me from here" voice. "You're really loud," I told him. "Sorry.  I want to be in the Guinness Book of Word Records. What can I do to get in there?"

"I can build the world's largest sandwich and we can feed the world," he said. I asked him how someone would make bread for that and where he'd get the food. He then changed his mind.

"Why do you want to be in there?"  I asked him. "Most people don't even read it nor know anyone that is in there."

Not even phased, he continued talking and I'm quite sure that I didn't need to be in the room since he seemed to be talking to the air.

"We can build the world's largest fruit tower." Ok, how did I get roped into this? I asked him again, where the food would come from since all the fruit would need to be purchased from somewhere. "We'll ask our neighbors" he replied.  How much fruit does he think they eat?

Maybe he meant the world's largest fruit tower in Munchkin Land.

After listening to all his grand plans of food wasting, I suggested, "why don't you try to be the worlds fastest house cleaner? You can vacuum to practice. You know, it takes practice and training to get fast." 

He wasn't taking the bait. "Oh, mom. That's not in there." I asked him how he knew and he gave me the "what are you a moron? look, and kept brainstorming. Wait, did he just ROLL HIS EYES AT ME?!?!

An hour later he had come up with dozens of ideas but he hadn't consulted the book to see if they were records to break or set.

I finally said to him, "ya know, this year you get to participate in the Geo-Bee and you will be the youngest in the state participating.(When we moved to MD, he had already completed Kindergarten and someone with the same exact birthday as him is a full year below him.) We can check who the youngest winner of the Geo-Bee is and you can beat him." 

I saw his whole demeanor change and we went on Google to research "youngest Geo-Bee winner".  The youngest winner was a home-schooled 10 year old from Minnesota.  When #2 saw that he could be the first nine-year-old to win the Geo-Bee, he got excited. 

He is a Geography whiz. He loves maps and foreign cultures and is constantly regurgitating facts.  Nothing like hearing a random fact about the Incas at 6:30am on a Saturday morning. During the summer Olympics opening ceremonies in 2012, we placed a map of the world on the wall and he marked off each country as they entered the stadium. He only had trouble finding Seychelles.

"I can beat him Momma, " he proclaimed.

"I bet you can. But for now, you just have to practice," I replied.

And maybe we can work on some vacuuming too. I heard it is the National Sport of Seychelles.

When ABA works too well

When we were in #1's IEP meeting last year, the teachers told us how much the kids in his homeroom liked it when #1 sang and danced, and that they all loved him.  I had concerns.  I told them that was great, "as long as they didn't treat him like the pet monkey in class. I can see this evolving into manipulative behavior where they tell him what to do and he does it." They all said that they'd look out for a shift in behavior and I left it alone.

This year, #1 is fully mainstreamed with an aide. He spends his days with all the neuro-typical kids which allows time for spontaneous interactions. He has been happy with school and when we asked him if he wanted to have another class birthday party, he said "yes" before I even finished asking the question. 

The problem was, this year, for some reason, his BFF was not placed in the same home-room as #1. Since I could only send the invitations that were for his homeroom, I sent a text to his mom to let her know the details of the party the same morning the invites went to school.

Sometime during the invitation distribution,  some of the boys in his class came to the conclusion that #1 didn't invite his BFF to his party since there was not an invitation for him. They decided to have a little fun by manipulating #1 to tell his BFF that he didn't like him anymore and he wasn't invited to his party. 

When I heard that, my heart just sank to the pit of my stomach. His BFF is the most amazing kid. He is like a 40 year-old in the body of an 11 year-old. He is compassionate, caring and smart. Smart enough to know that when #1 said those words to him that he responded, " you don't really feel that way." And then #1 admitted, "No. They told me to say it."

I sent an email to his homeroom teacher and special education teacher and told them about the situation, and the class was reprimanded.

I thought it was over, but I was wrong. Two days later, I got an email from the teacher telling me that #1 said something that made his BFF cry and it seemed to come from him, without external influence. I was beside myself. I texted BFF's mom to give her the heads-up and then we talked.

That is when I found out that kids at school were bullying his BFF.  They were teasing him for being friends with the special-needs kids. They were asking him why he wanted to be friends with kids who couldn't think for themselves. Those little pieces of shit were f-ing with my kid's perfect BFF and I was pissed. We both agreed that it was indeed bullying but she said BFF didn't want to go down that road since it didn't bother him. 

When #1 got home, I tried to extract the story from him. "What did you say to him? Why did you say that? Who told you to say that?" But trying to get  #1 to answer questions is like trying to cut out the pit of an unripe peach; you have to make several different attempts and sometimes no matter how you cut it, the damn thing won't come out. He also has a tendency to script from books, videos and TV shows and half my time is spent distinguishing between fact and fiction. The story I got out of him was that his BFF and a few other kids were making a leaf pile and wouldn't let him wreck it, so he said to all of them "I don't want to play with you anymore. I hate you." Ok, a typical appropriate response to a frustrating situation. I'm not sure if it is accurate, but I do know that #1's intonation is so bad, that if he did say that to the group, BFF was probably the only one that understood him. 

I also managed to get the names of the boys that manipulated him to say mean things to BFF.  He did group them with the bullies in the book he was reading. Lucky for me, I was able to identify who was who. I sent an email to school with the names and both families were notified.

I was happy that his teachers handled the situation and treated it seriously. I was just surprised that it happened at all. Last year, his class was so caring and supportive to #1 and I just  assumed that since there are special education classes in the building, and many kids are mainstreamed, that the exposure alone was enough to facilitate acceptance. I guess I was wrong. I will have to contact the PTA and see how we can change that.

I had a long talk with #1 about not listening to kids who tell him to do stuff. It is hard to take a kid that was raised on ABA principles; someone gives you a task and you do it, and teach them that the rules have changed. No, you don't have to do what they say. Tell them to shove it. We had to talk to him long ago about not letting #2 boss him around. We taught him to say, "you're not my mom, you're not my dad and I don't have to listen to you." We just didn't realize that we had to give him that talk for school too.

I then had to make things right with his BFF. There was no way that #1 was going to lose that friend. I was going to move heaven and earth to make it right between them. We had him over for a play-date and they watched a movie. I explained to him that since #1 was really little he had a type of therapy called ABA, and that taught him to do things that people told him to do, and now we had to teach him that he didn't have to listen to everyone anymore. I told him I was a big fan of his and if he had anymore trouble at school, I would help. No one is messing with my kid's BFF.

I am glad that I am friends with BFF's mom and we could deal with the situation quickly and efficiently. She has raised an amazing kid and I am grateful that she understands the value we place on his role in #1's life. 

Hopefully the crisis is over and there will be no more drama. 

But until then, I will climb back onto my perch and wait for the next event.

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.

Mini-Van Pissing Contest

Everywhere I drive, everywhere I go, I see those awful family decals. You know, the ones stuck to the rear window of the family vehicle, that you have no choice but to stare at when you're stuck behind them.  Plastered on the window, there are little stick figures that represents every member of their family. Like I care.  What is the purpose for putting that on your car? To show how miserable your existence is? Are you complaining or bragging? Are you serving me?

At every traffic light, moms have the ability to show how hard their lives are. It's a van decal pissing contest. "I have three freaking kids in all types of sports" and next to them at the light is, "I have three dogs, two kids and a husband"  and behind them is the full color decal depicting children playing football and daughters who cheer. Like I care about you. It's mini-van-one-up-ness.

I've been tempted to participate in this pissing contest by buying enough decals to fill up the entire window. Yup, there's me, my husband and our nineteen Ethiopian orphans and my six cats. I dreamed about installing a rear view camera, just so I could capture the reactions. Try topping that ladies.

I've seen all types of decals: storm troopers, zombies, little faces, stick figures ice-skating, playing soccer, cheering, skiing, and the list goes on and on. I went on a website and tried to design my own. I searched through the graphics and tried to find a true representative of each member of our family. That was harder than I thought.

 I didn't see one that would represent #1. I needed the ADHD one that had 14 arms and 14 legs that looked like it was in perpetual motion. Or for when he was in overload state:

I am auditory processing overload figure

Talk to the hand

I found a stick figure holding a computer; perfect for #2, but I needed to find one for #3 that had his hand held out in a "talk to the hand" pose while twisting his head as far away from the opposing force as possible. Couldn't find one, so I made it.

I found the super mom, but what I really needed was something like this:

Breakfast

  Or on a good day, this:

lunch

 For the twins, I found princesses and fairies, but they were just so one sided. I needed the crack fairy. The ADHD meets butterfly. Flower, flower, so many flowers. I want that one, wait, I want that one. I want them all. Ooh, which one do I choose. Oh, which, oh which? I'm tired. 

That is one BIG smile

For husband, he could have had the scientist, or the athlete to represent him,  but what he really needed was one waving "goodbye" as he joyously left for work. see ya.

In the end, though I was really tempted to be the champion of decal wars with my  orphanage, I decided not to get the decals.

I'll enjoy the reading material at the stop lights and let those mini-van billboards of family suffering go unopposed. I know I'd already win that pissing contest.

You have been silently served.