oh the embarassment...

 

Have you been looking for me?

 

I'm still here. I promise.

 

 

Two years. It's been two years since I've posted on this blog. That's just the way the cookie crumbles when you're a mom. Especially to boys like mine. There are tons of things that I should have been documenting on here. Sharing with you all of the sweet insanity that is life in my house. I apologize for the break in communication. I would be lying if I promised to post again soon. Hopefully it will be less than two years until my next post.

Here's hoping blessings come in threes...

I am praying that blessings come in threes today. My wonderful husband called me this morning to let me know that his job (for which we are very, VERY grateful no matter how much I may grumble about the hours...) is offering "flex hours". This would allow him to go in an hour earlier, thus enabling him to come home an hour earlier. My hubs home at four instead of five? Where do I sign? One blessing down, two to go. The Kansas Senate is supposed to be voting on  HB.2764, an autism insurance reform bill. Anything that makes the lives of those effected by autism a little less chaotic and stressful gets my vote. I was sure to send my nice little email to Senator Richard F. Kelsey asking him to please help pass the bill. You can do the same at http://www.autismvotes.org/c.frKNI3PCImE/b.8056667/k.409D/Key_Vote_Wednesday_Kansas_Urge_the_Senate_to_Pass_HB2764/siteapps/advocacy/ActionItem.aspx Last, but certainly not least, we go for our intake screening at the SCDDO today. Nervouse doesn't even beging to encompass how I feel. This is a crucial step in getting the services we need to help my guys. There is only a small window of time left before our current services will end and I really feel we need to have our backup plan in place before that happens. I feel like we've been given an eviction notice and I'm checking off the days with a red Sharpie. Technically we have until the end of July, but our "community" services end in a mere fourteen days. Nice how the first things they take away are the parent support worker and the weekend respite care. So I'm praying, thinking positive and trying not to lose my breakfast. Wish us luck and if you could send up a prayer or two we would be grateful.

Careful what you wish for...

Had I known how the conversation was going to go perhaps I would not have been so obsessive in my efforts to get in touch with the doctor I was griping about in the last post. After finally getting in touch with her after nearly two weeks with no success I was somewhat surprised to find she was slightly less than enthusiastic about what I needed to talk to her about. Emphatic, yes. Enthusiastic, not so much. There's nothing quite like being lectured for over thirty minutes by someone who is convinced they know your child better than you do. She had the audacity to go on and on and on about how I chose the two biggest hot button topics in pediatric psychology today to have my son diagnosed with. Chose? As though I had some say in the matter. She makes it seem like I held two different doctors at gunpoint and made them write reports about my son saying what I wanted to hear. Seriously? Some days I wish I were wrong. Most days I know I'm right, but that doesn't mean I chose this for my child or that I can snap my fingers and the diagnosis will disappear. Which, apparently, is what this doc thinks she can do. Since she doesn't agree with the "validity" of the second evaluation she is refusing to incorporate it in his treatment plan. Awesome. That totally defeats the point of the second evaluation. Must be nice to try and play God and deny my son the help he needs. No problem. I'm good at finding back doors, alley entrances and whatever else I need to find to get him what he not only needs but deserves. Silly doctor, this is my kid.

Dear Mr. Bell...

I'm sure Alexander Graham Bell was pretty hot to trot when he invented the telephone. I myself believe it to be a rather ingenious little doodad to have about the home. I see the majority of people walking around today(or driving, but that's a whole other post) with some form of telephone fused to their ear. Why then is it so difficult to get someone to actually pick up on the other end of the line? I've called. I've left messages. Nice, polite, concise messages. I don't want to waste my time any more than I want to waste your time with a rambling voicemail. So why then is it so confoundingly difficult to get in touch with people when you need to?

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Whimsical Wishing Tree Christmas

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You bet your bum I cried

I was sitting there feeding Thing 2 some yogurt and watching Rio with him and Thing 1 (ridiculously cute movie, by the way). He was sitting next to me on the window seat. Not the usual seating arrangement prefered for the consumption of something so sloppy as yogurt but we were doing fine. As I scoop yogurt into his mouth he reached out his little hand, patted my knee twice and then left his hand sitting there on my leg. I felt the tears well up in my eyes as I stared at those chubby little fingers resting so gently on my leg. Those are the moments I want to remember. The sweet moments, the caring moments. The moments when you think, "Huh, maybe I'm doing something right with these little humans." So, here's to remembering more sweetness and less stink.

Don't the germs know I'm not interested?

It started with a scratchy throat. I thought it was the change in temperature. I was wrong. I feel like crap. I hate feeling like crap. Stuff needs to get done and most of it is stuff I don't like doing even when I'm healthy and well-rested. Chicken poop and monkey butts. Anybody want to come clean my house?