Game Stop Drama

Every weekend I take #1 with me to do errands. Sometimes, as part of our outing, we stop at Game Stop and let him walk around the store, play some of the games and look at all the new video games. I love the staff at Game Stop because they love their jobs and know all the kids. #1 is comfortable asking them questions and they gladly engage and answer him.

This week, I told him the order of the errands. There were four stops and Game Stop was our second stop.

But when we pulled up to the store, it was gone. There was just an empty shell of the store that used to be. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. And when he realized it wasn't there, he fell into his default mode, "OH NOOOOO! YOU MEAN IT'S GONE FOREVER? My precious Game Stop, you can't be gone. Where are you? ARE YOU GONE FOREVER? Oh Mom, THIS IS WORST DAY OF MY LIFE."

I reassured him, "It's ok, there are two other locations. Let's do the third errand and then we'll go to the other one."  We got to Home Depot and he continued to lament on such a tragedy. He couldn't focus on the task and just wondered aimlessly around the store saying, "Game Stop is gone forever. I will never see my favorite store again."

I drove three miles north to the next location. We parked, got out of the car and discovered that store was also gone and another store was in it's place. Crap, crap, crap. What the hell? And then he absolutely lost it. He threw himself on the ground. I reminded him there was still one store we could go to and I bribed him with brownies to get up. Glad there weren't a lot of people around to stare.

We got back in the car and I was nervous. I had one more shot at this and if we failed, then it would be bad. There is one more store five miles in the opposite direction. We are going. Why the hell are they closed?

I told him, "I know this is really hard. Let's go to the other one and if it's not open, you can eat whatever is left of the brownies when we get home." It did calm him a bit, but the questions kept coming. "IS IT GONE FOREVER?????"

We were only supposed to be out an hour but we drove south to the location of the last store. When we pulled in the parking lot, #1 spotted the store, intact and open. With a nervous laugh and a sign of relief, he said, "Mom, it's here. I am so happy." He got out of the car, walked to the door and before he entered he said, "My precious Game Stop, I thought I lost you forever" and then kissed the window.

We walked in and after he gave one of the game displays a hug, he approached the manager and said, "I'm so glad you're here". And then he demanded answers. "Why are my stores closed? And then he ran off to inspect the store before he could answer.

The manager explained that there was a conflict between the landlord and Game Stop corporate so the store closed and will reopen in another location in the future.

We saw one of the staff members from our store and he told us it had closed right after our last visit two weeks ago. As I was talking to him, #1 walked up to me and placed a Disney Infinity character in my hand, "Here ya go, Mom. Are we getting this?"

"Yea buddy, we can get this", I replied. "This was a rough evening for you and you handled it well. At least now, you don't need those brownies."

He stopped in his tracks, turned around, looked at me and said, "Ah, Mom, I still want those brownies." Direct eye contact.

I smiled and said, "Ok buddy, but just one."
He smiled and ran off to look at another display.

Whew, Crisis averted this time. I can put the cape away now.

Dear Game Stop, please reopen your store in my town quickly. Sincerely, Shari

Celebrating 100

I realized this week that I published my 100 post. In a little over a year, I have written about all types of stuff; some funny, some not, some slightly offensive, some brutally honest and some that just came out of nowhere, which made you wonder what I was drinking at the time I wrote it.

There are days that I wonder who really reads this. I mean, I look at my stats and I know that I have audiences around the world. That one person in Indonesia matters to me as well as my one reader in Sweden, Australia, Colombia, and Brazil. I appreciate those two people in Great Britain, China, Canada and Indonesia. And I am happy with the 15 Russians, those 15 Germans and the several hundred of readers in the USA. Not sure if they were looking for porn and the search engine disappointingly let them to my site, but I can dream.

Looking at the posts with the post hits, "Potty Training Hell" is the number one post with over 370 views. Surprisingly, "Homeless Woman" was number two with 231 hits. Number three is "Playing Appropriately" with 197 hits.

I must admit that some days I wonder if I should continue writing and some days the words won't come because my head is spinning too fast. 

But, I have over 77 drafts that need to finish, so if you want to see them completed,  comment today. Let me know the funniest thing your kid(s), students did or said to you. 

I want to know. Really. Feedback is a nice thing. 

Happy 100 to Casa de Crazy.

ANGER MANAGEMENT

I was reading an article in O Magazine, called "Cloudy With a Chance of Rage" in which the author explained how she found herself being increasingly agitated and verbally abusive with people while not knowing the root of the anger.

I thought about the many times I've had to suppress the desire to punch people in the face; bad driving, not holding doors, judgmental looks at my kid's behavior, and the list continues. It's not just a Jersey thing. And maybe, just maybe, there is a wee bit of stress in my life that contributes to these feelings.

I thought about how similar these feeling seem to the meltdowns that I deal with at home and then it all made sense. The feelings behind the meltdowns weren't solely an Autism expression of anger and frustration,as it was a person expressing their feelings. Although many ASD kids don't have the words or the ability to deal with or identify the root of their feelings, we ALL have anger issues which stem from frustrations and stressors in our lives. How we cope with them is as individaul as the triggers that cause them.

When our kids have meltdowns, we give them a time out and expect that they can redirect out of the mess in just a few minutes.  At the end of the time-out, sometimes they seem fine. When they don't, we do what we need to do to get them back on track. However, when they melt down again 10 minutes later seemingly from the same stressors as before, we seem suprised and even a  little annoyed that they are back in the melt-zone so easily. 

The author quoted anger-specialist, author, Ronald Potter-Efron PhD's book, Healing the Angry Brain. He said, "People assume they're calm after 30 seconds of deep breathing, but our bodies don't recover that quickly. Though we may feel a pseudo-calm, most people truly need 20 minutes to an hour to truly let the emotion pass." 

I had to read that several times to realize the good news; that is normal behavior that applies to everyone; It wasn't ASD specific. 

The main difference between the average mind and the ASD mind, is that usually we can reflect and determine what we need to do to get ourselves out of the muck; exercise, call a friend, drink a glass of wine, whatever. However, our kids on the spectrum have a bit more difficulty pulling out, redirecting, and moving on. It may even take days for those that tend to perseverate on things. I know that when #2, the Aspy, comes home from school in an agitated state, that he won't be good again until he takes a long rest in a quiet place, otherwise, he can't let it go.



The good thing about the article is that it reminded me that everyone feels anger and needs an adequate cool down period. I realized the cool-down time I give the kids is really based on what I think they need. At least in this category, I'm doing something right.  And I should grant that amount of time for myself and everyone else too. 

As long as I have an ample opportunity to keep my temper in check, we're all good. No one-finger-salutes on the highway today.

.

A letter to my Twins turning 5

Dear Girls, you are turning five and that is huge. You see, I remember my fifth birthday to a flaw. I remember the big chocolate coin my grandfather gave me, which melted all over my face, hands and clothes and then my grandmother had to get me cleaned up. It may have not been the best decision my grandfather could have made on that hot June day. I remember the presents, the people and the location. I even remember being miffed that my brothers got presents on MY day. But, the fact I got more presents than them, and I got the coin, made it better.

I look at you turning five as the year of transition. In the fall, you will be going into full-day kindergarten and it will be huge for all of us. You see, you are my babies and you mark the end of an era. When you go off to school, there will be no one at home to demand my time and for the first time in over a decade, I will be alone.

I was thinking about the things you have outgrown; the clothes, shoes and toys. I look at each girl thing we acquired just for you and I remember the day it was given to you. It is hard to believe that your first birthday was four years ago and it seems to have gone remarkably fast.

I thought about the things that I wish I could bottle up because I will miss them as you grow bigger and  faster than I want you to.

Although there are many little things that make me smile each day in addition to the tedious things you do, such as smear yogurt all over your body because you're playing spa, I compiled a list of the top 11 things I will miss from you being this small.

1) Dancing with you in the kitchen. We spent 
many mornings, especially after we moved to Maryland, dancing to Bon Jovi in the kitchen. I'd pick you up and ballroom dance around the kitchen. You'd take turns, holding your hands up, begging for your turn and got upset if you thought your sister got one second longer than you did. Even now, although we don't dance as often, I think about how much I will miss it when I can no longer pick you up and Tango with you. I told Twin R that I will miss dancing with her when she gets bigger and she replied, "don't worry  Mommy, I will dance right next to you". I'm counting on that.

  2) Going shopping with you. Now, as much as it was tedious in some ways when you wanted to eat everything you saw in the grocery store, not yet understanding the concept of paying for stuff before you ate it, the two of you were a big draw at the anywhere. As you sat and sang siting in the cart,  I couldn't go 10 feet without asking the "are they twins?" question, or someone commenting on how beautiful, adorable, and cute the two of you are. And for Dad, who is somewhat introverted, he had to adjust to the attention and conversation the two of you drew.  I will miss our game at the end of the shopping, when we'd leave the store and I would run to pick up speed down the little slope and then hop on the cart and together we would sail through the parking lot to our van while screaming "weeeeeee". We made people smile because we were enjoying the moment.

3) Your mismatched pronunciation in your little sweet voices. "Mommy, did you buy us new dwesses to wear on our bwerthday?"

4) Being viewed as "the best mom in the universe". The closest I will ever get to seeing perfection in myself is the way I see myself through your eyes. I will miss being the one you want to be with, the one you run to and the one you want to play with. I will miss the way you grab my legs when you're shy or know I'm trying to leave the house without you. And we know Twin R wishes there was a seat on my leg so she could hang there all the time.  

5) Your sudden outbursts of song. When the two of you decide to sing, which is usually some type of My Little Pony Song, there is no such thing as shyness or volume control. The two of you belt out your songs Ethel Merman style no matter where we are; the store, post office, gym, school and it doesn't matter, 
because you're singing for yourselves and each other.

 6)  When you stop calling each other "Gurl". "No Gurl, the pony is mine. Wake up Gurl. Come on Gurl, let's play."

7) When a Disney band-aid, an icepack and a cookie doesn't make things right again.

8) When you stop getting excited about me washing your favorite nightgowns or underwear. "Mommy thank you so much for washing my Tinkerbell nightgown! It is my favorite! I love you soooo much!"

9) The greeting I get when I retrieve you from the child-care room at the gym. When I walk back in, regardless if it is 15 minutes or two hours, you let out these high-pitch squeals that make everyone think you've just won the lottery. That is a greeting I will never get tired of and be sad with its departure.

10) My lap being the best seat in the house. As soon as I sat down, within two minutes, both of you would be clamoring for position on my lap. It was an easy fit when you were younger, but my lap doesn't accommodate both of you at the same time as easily as it once did. It's a tight fit, and hard to balance and read a book at the same time, but it works for now. 

11) The way you run. I loved the way you ran up the sidewalk at 18 months. I watched your little diaper swish as your little bottoms ran up the street. And although I was immersed in the cuteness, I was on alert because you fell so easily and didn't know how to use your hands to stop yourself from banging your head. I have watched your running style over the last few years as the awkwardness of movement decreased and your motor skills improved. Now, athough you run like big girls, I still can see that two-year-old in you sometimes.

There are many, many other things I look at and wish to burn them in my mind: like how small you feet still are or the sweet, awkward way you brush the hair out of your faces or the way you manage to get covered in peanut butter ever single time you eat it. And I love how you appreciate the beauty of the world.

I love the way you approach the world; head on without fear. Although I'm not sure if you appear fearless because I am by you side, I want you to always have that courage to be yourself, be brazen and explore the unknown.

May you always be ever-fabulous.
Your first word was "shoe" It is your, destiny.

Happy Birthday girls. Mommy loves you. 

Let's hear it for the Gurls!

The Fickle Twin Princesses

As I get ready for the girls' fifth birthday, I reflect on the evolution of their taste. You think that identical twins would like the same foods, the same toys and the same clothes, but we have found over the years that is far from true. 

Before the girls were born, we were concerned about mixing them up. We knew that they would have plenty of things to make them "therapy ready", and we didn't want mixed identity added to the list. We randomly chose to put Twin R in pink and Twin S in purple. After they were born, we kept the dress code in affect. Even when they were babies, we usually dressed them in coordinating outfits more than identical ones. Of course, we did the same outfit stuff and the pics are so cute, but that was just for fun. Even today, Twin R calls pink her "first color". Our friends all know that the twin in Pink is Twin R. Twin S was the purple girl and then when she was three, decided that teal blue was her new favorite color. Even today, the girls don't want to dress alike and they have labeled all the clothes in their closet as theirs or their sister's. They refuse to cross those lines, "that is not my dress."

As far as toys go, they have always liked different things. In the rare case that they wanted the same toy, they did what all sister do; fight and pull hair. When they were two, we gave them each one baby panda and one white tiger stuffed animals. It evolved into Twin R taking both pandas and Twin S taking both white tigers. At three, Twin S loved Dora and Diego, while Twin R loved Strawberry Shortcake. When they turned four, Twin S loved Jake and the Neverland Pirates and Twin R was more Sofia the First. Irony aside, they alternated watching their TV shows and we taught them how to take turns.  They even bargained with each other, "we'll watch Jake first and then Sofia" and although neither of them preferred to watch their show second, they usually moved on very quickly. 

When we went to Disney World, Twin R was Tinkerbell and carried a Tinkerbell doll. Twin S was Cinderella, but carried a Woody doll.

It seems in the last few months, their interests have changed much faster and have finally gotten in sync.  Lately, Twin S has been wanting to wear pink too and they both love My Little Pony, Equestria Girls, and are absolutely crazy about the Disney movie Frozen. They want the same toys and want to watch the same TV shows which makes it easier for everyone. Don't really like breaking up those knock-down, screaming brawls.

Last month, I asked the girls what they wanted for their birthday. They asked for two different Disney princess dolls and some My Little Pony ponies, so I went shopping.

 After they saw the movie Frozen, their previous requests were voided and they requested Frozen toys. Freaking really?!? So no Equestria Girl dolls? Twin R likes to be the bossy one, and told Twin S, "Gurl, (yes, they call each other Gurl) you get the Anna doll and I'll get the Elsa doll. Then we can share." Usually Twin S lets her run the show, but not this time. She responded, "No. I want Elsa." Twin R got upset that the order had been disrupted and was mad that both of the Frozen sisters were not going to be represented. In her mind, Anna and Elsa were sisters and of course sisters needed to play with sisters.

I had to step in and tell them both that it was perfectly fine to like the same things and it they both had Elsa, then the dolls could be twins just like them. 

I am glad the toy drama is lessening, but now I got to go back to Target.
 I have some toys to exchange.

Hold The Meatballs

Last weekend we began implementing some self-help life-skills that we felt the kids needed to learn on their way to adulthood. Our goal is to make them self-sufficient and contributing members of our household and eventually, society.

But boys have that "Y" chromosome that allows them the ability to walk past, step over, or walk around something on the floor for months, and never, ever think "Maybe I should pick that up". Stuff that is not theirs or needed immediately is on the periphery and  it will stay there until they need it or are told to deal with it.


Our goal for #1 was to teach him to make his pasta, which he calls "my pasta with sauce and melted cheese".  Although the type of pasta can vary, it has to be the same every time. God forbid you add a meatball.

We have been trying for weeks to get him to do at least one step, but every time, he ran off while saying, "no, you make it." When I told him that I wouldn't make it without him, he replied, "no, it's ok, I'm not hungry." And then I'd find the pretzel jar on the table with a not-so-fine line of crumbs to his chair.

Last week we were determined.  I prepped him in the morning and when it was time, he ran away.   Once we caught him, we told him we would do it together.  Finally he said, "Mom, show me the cook book", he said. Husband brought up a cook book and let him look through it. I then sat down with him and wrote down the steps. And then it didn't look so bad.

We made a list like Special Agent Oso, and it had nine steps.
1) Put water in the pot, add some salt
2) Put pot on stove
3) Have mom turn on gas
4) Wait for water to boil
5) Add Spaghetti
6) Start timer for 9 minutes
7) Drain pasta
8) put in bowl
9) Add sauce and cheese


We labeled which steps he would be responsible for and which ones I was. But I told him we would have to be together to do each step.

Remarkably he stayed with me as we worked down the list. And in the end, we made his pasta and he did it. 

Will he be as cooperative next time? Who knows. One victory at a time. Cheers!

Spewing insults in a messy room

Anyone that has ever tried to teach their children how to clean, understands that teaching to clean is a million times more tedious than doing it yourself.

Last weekend we wanted to teach the boys how to clean as part of their self-care/help with the house series. These lessons are never met with enthusiasm and the transition to them takes an eternity. Usually the initial prep is met with resposnes like, "I won't clean" and "why are you so mean?" I usually have to round up all the electronics and promise permanent banishment for actions to happen.

We had them help clean the basement. We organized the toys, decided which toys were going to charity, cleaned and vacuumed. #2 and #3 did most of the vacuuming and sometime during their chores, they named the vacuum "Sucky".

The next day, we cleaned their room. All three boys sleep in the same room together. When we lived in NJ, we only had a three bedroom house and they all slept together in quasi-harmony. When we moved to our bigger house, they chose to remain together, even though one of them could have opted to bunk alone.

We had to teach them the foundations of cleaning: pick up stuff off the floor, put stuff away, wash the sheets, clean and vacuum under the bed. Sounds easy right?

We found countless Legos and mini figure bonded together and scattered all over the room. Under #3's bed was an unofficial mating ground for Legos.  He was excited that he found so many of his figures that he wanted to play, and got really mad when I redirected him back to the task at hand. And although #3 adores his Legos, he despises picking them up and screams when you suggest that he cleans them up. "You are so mean Mommy." You think that is mean, just wait until Sucky eats them.

#2 was angry at me before we started cleaning and his agitation only increased during the cleaning. Every time he was told to pick up stuff or was reminded to keep cleaning, he would give me an explanation of why I was so awful. So awful that he said, "When I grow up, I'm going to have my family over to my house, but not my parents. I'm going to tell my kids they don't have grandparents." Ouch, did he just say that? Where did that come from? I responded, "Well, that's ok. I'll be on a beach somewhere having fun." #2 was a bit surprised that his words had little affect. He repeated it a few more times until he realized that it didn't deliver the punch he had intended. And then #3 began to cry. "He doesn't really mean it", I whispered to him, "and even if he does chose to do that, you don't have to."

Little did #2 realize, is that it did sting. Especially since I had a falling out with my own father the year before. The falling out was a culmination of events, ending with an exchange with my step-mother that rocked me to my core.  It made me question their role in my life and decided that their toxicity was more hurtful than helpful. I put the relationship on the shelf until I decided what to do next. That was a year and half ago.

I had kept my issues with my father on the DL. I never spoke ill of them and offered the kids the chance to call them if they wished, but they never opted to. #2 wasn't mimicking a behavior he had see from me, this idea was all his and it was disturbing.

In the grand scheme of parenting, what is the fine line between nurturing and smothering, the fine line between instructing and nagging and the ideal balance of work and fun? Apparently from the exchange with #2, his opinion of that line and mine were remarkably different. 

I also realized that the relationship between parent and child is uneven from the get-go. From the moment a child is born, the focus is on the child, as it should be. We subconsciously teach them that the world does revolve around them as they watch us sacrifice for them. We show them that they get stuff, and we as parents, are meant to be second to them. By us wanting them to have what we didn't, we have taught them entitlement.  
But in the end, who has the power? The parents have the power to set rules and demands, but the child is really the one who chooses when they will behave and listen, and maybe, inevitably hold us at arms-length or shut us out. I understand that some of that is a child's attempt at Independence, which is good, but some is payback. When we get to that last stage I can't imagine it being easy.

Will that prevent me from holding them responsible to do their chores? Hell, no. Am I prepared to accept the ramifications of my judgements? Absolutely. But does it sting sometimes? You bet. I can only hope that when I am looking at my 40 year old, #2, I can say that I did more good that bad. I guess that what any parent aims for; "not the best, but better than most." I will always have Jerry Springer to thank for being better than most.

Until then, Sucky is going to have a nice, long relationship with the kids. I will ride that wave as long as it lasts. And with five kids, the probability of all of them being angry with me at the same time is quite low. I'll take those odds.