A day in the life..

My day so far:

7 am: get up, get the son ready for school, take him to the bus stop.
Get the girl up, ready for school, get her on the bus.
Did some dishes.
Put some laundry in the washer.
Picked up the junk on the counter, took out some recyclables.
Started picking up our bedroom.
Husband came home at 9 for breakfast break, made him an egg.
9:30: Went to son's school to straighten out a registration mess.
Went to the ATM at the bank.
Went to the library.
Went to the gas station.
Went to the post office.
Went to Walmart.
Went to McDonalds to get lunch.
I was home by 11 or shortly after..

Yet to do today:
Figure out the school registration thing. (I think it's my laptop, gonna try the tower next..)
Put the laundry in the dryer.
Try to work on my fic that's due 6/2.
Work on cleaning up the rest of our bedroom.
Make sure the kids are fed/keep a general eye on them.

..I think that's it for today. :D Usually I don't have quite that many errands to run, but you get the idea. I'm one busy mama. And tomorrow I get a "Big Special Project", cleaning out our shed. Once a year the community we live in has a "trash amnesty day", where we can throw out all the big stuff, and leave our junk at our curb and they will pick it up. Well, this year, our day is Friday. But, Friday is Heidi's preschool graduation in the morning, so I won't have time for that Friday. So tomorrow it is. I am armed with my big black trash bags, and I will not be distracted by that tomorrow.

Friday is Heidi's preschool graduation. I can't believe the school year is over, and my little baby (she's 5) will be graduating and be in Kindergarten next year. And my son Roger's last day for the year is Friday as well, he gets out early and will be in 2nd grade next year. My little man..

The kiddos have summer school this year, and it'll be a supermama challenge to keep it all straight. The girl starts 6/13, and she'll go Monday through Friday for 2.5 hours in the morning for 6 weeks, and the son starts 6/22 and goes for 2 hours in the afternoon 2 days a week for 8 weeks. Neither are in summer school at the same time of day! And the girl is going to a different school for summer school (same district, different building..) But they are both getting bussed, so I just have to have them ready.

The girl was kind of sick last week, just a stomach bug or something. She was feverish, and she didn't want to eat for drink for about a day and a half, and the only thing she would take was tylenol.. (and that's still like wrestling a piglet to get that in, believe me.) And she was mad at me for the medicine, too. She said "you're fired" to me once, I just laughed..

But she did have a milestone, too. I finally got around to fixing the Diego trike and brought it in the house. She usually just pushes it with her feet, but this time, she's been using the pedals and doing it right! I'm excited for the weather to clear and time to permit so she can pedal outside to her heart's content. The son still can't ride a bike, he wants to but is having trouble with the brain/feet coordination. He'll get there.

Since it's almost lunch and husband will be home soon, I'd better wrap this up. To quote Frost, there are still "miles to go before I sleep."

The highs and lows of the autism ride..

So this happened Mother's Day.

Son: Mom, how do you close up this zooble toy?

Me: I have no idea, ask your sister. She knows those things.

Son: Okay. [to his sister, sitting at my feet,] Hey, can you show me how to close up this zooble? [He hands it out to her.]

Girl: Uh, okay. [she takes it from him, closes it, and hands it back to him.] Here you go.

Son: Thanks. [he takes it, goes off]

Girl: You're welcome. [she goes back to her toys]

A normal conversation between siblings, right? Maybe for a "normal" family. But my kids aren't normal, especially my girl. So for my girl to be so "on" and actually help her brother and respond to her brother and help him with what he wanted, without any prompting from me, well, I just about cried.

Then today, son was sick in the night. He stayed home from school, because his stomach hurts. Well, the truth finally came out that the reason his stomach was hurting was because his sister was beating him up last night and getting him in the stomach. The son is not much of a defender of himself, even though we tell him he needs to be more assertive, and tell us when his sister is being mean to him.

Sometimes there's progress, and sometimes there's regression. Well, one miracle per day at a time, I guess.

This supermum is on strike!

Well, part time. And for a couple hours..

Kiddos are off school today, for Easter Monday. And they're already driving me nuts. They won't stop taking each others toys, pick up any messes, and need something every five minutes. So on my way home from Walmart this morning, I thought, this mom's on a temporary strike. I got Hardee's breakfast just for myself, even though they fussed, and also even though they usually don't eat what I get them from Hardee's anyway. I also bought some Swiss Cake Rolls at Walmart, and plan on eating some later. (all diets start tomorrow, I say..)

I'm tired. Not just physically, which is what happens when I work full time at McDonalds with a bunch of kids serving a bunch of sometimes ungrateful customers for just over minimum wage, and then come home and get the kids to school, clean the house, make meals for everyone..No wonder I crack. But also emotionally tired, when my work doesn't appreciate anything I do for them, and oh yeah, the same thing happens at home. No one appreciates me here either. I'm the only one who picks up anything, takes out any garbage, does any dishes, or mows the lawn. And I can't keep up. No one listens, or if they do listen, they sure don't hear.

Trekfest is the end of June. I'm going on the Saturday of it, and possibly as Janice Rand if I can get my act together to get the wig done. Hubby doesn't want me to go, of course. Because I'm meeting people I met online and that I don't even know. Even though I met these people last year, and survived. I never get a "day off" to do something I enjoy, even though how many Saturdays last summer did he leave early in the morning to go golfing with his friend, and not get home til 5, or later? And I'm home with the kids all day. And I can't have ONE day out of the year to go do what I want? Tough noogies, I say. He'll live.

After lunch maybe I'll bribe my kids with dollars to go pick up the yard so I can mow sometime this week. Or not. At any rate, the world won't end if it doesn't get done today. Cause this mom's on vacation.

Notes from the bottom of the hovel...

I, like most moms, struggle with house cleaning, especially when the kids are little. With a husband, a 7 year old and an autistic 5 year old, my house always looks like a tornado hit it, or like my friend Annie says, like a frat party that you have to clean up, but didn't get to enjoy. I manage to get some day to day cleaning done every day, such as dishes, picking up toys/clothes/misc out of the footpaths, laundry, etc, but the deep cleaning that probably should happen more often just doesn't. There simply isn't enough hours in the day when you're the only one doing it. And not getting any help or appreciation either. One of my friends that means well (but has no children) commented on the state of my home, saying that "a clean home makes for a clearer mind and better environment for all." Maybe so, but when you're the only one who can or will make an attempt at cleaning, it gets old really fast.

Lately I haven't been overly worried about the state of my house. Because I just really don't have the energy, and not much time, either, to be cleaning like a fool. I'd much rather be reading with my son, or tickling my daughter and making her laugh until she gets the hiccups. Because they are already growing too fast, and sometimes I feel like I've already missed too much. I turned around and they are 7 and 5, almost in 2nd grade and Kindergarten. The next time I turn around they will be 17 and 15 and almost in 12th grade and 10th grade.

I've had the last part of this poem in my head the last week or so, and while my "babies" aren't really babies anymore, and I no longer rock them, it's still true. The details on the origins of this poem are sketchy, but I've seen it labeled as being published as early as 1958. The last paragraph is especially true. ETA: Upon further research, it is called "Song for a fifth child."

Dedicated to the other "supermamas" in my life, Annie, Corrie and Catrina. <3 and hugs!

Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo

The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Aren’t his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

- Ruth Hulbert Hamilton

Episodes in stupidity..

I went down to my work office today, to try to get a copy of my paycheck stub from two weeks ago, as I lost it and I needed a copy of it for income verification for my children's Medicaid. The two women I spoke to were very rude, and told me "I couldn't get it." This is the letter I am sending with signature and delivery confirmation to the owner of our franchise. I don't know if he'll get it, or if the women in question will get ahold of it before he does, but I have to say something. Our payroll woman, Lynn is known for being rude, not just to me but I'm not going to take this treatment quietly.

November 2^nd, 2010

Mr. Mzowski,

My name is Helene and I work at the Marion store on 6^th Avenue, store 5014. Today I went down to the office to try to receive a copy of my paycheck stub from October 18^th, as I had lost my copy. I needed a copy of my income for the month of October as it is time for my annual review for my eligibility for my children for Medicaid.

When I went down to the office in the morning, the first person seen told me that “we didn't have the paystubs, you do.” I said I understood that, but I had lost my stub from two weeks prior and I needed a copy of it for DHS. She said “you would have to talk to Lynn, but she's on the phone.”

I waited for about 5 minutes, and when I did get to talk to Lynn, she said again that “we don't have the stubs, you do.” And I said again, yes, I understand, but I lost the stub from the 18^th, and I need it for a DHS verification. And they said that they couldn't do it. They said that DHS can send them a form and they can fill it out, and that “we need to start keeping track of these things, I'm tired of filling out those forms”.

I believe I know of the form that Lynn referenced. That is for DHS when you start a new job, and DHS sends a form for the employer to fill out to verify income to see if you still qualify based on income. That is not the form I am filling out. This is a yearly verification of my income and I am supposed to send in copies of my paycheck stubs for the month of October. I received this form in the mail on November 1^st and it is due back on November 5^th, so I really do not have time to wait.

I do not understand why I could not have a copy of that paycheck stub. I understand that it is my responsibility to keep track of my own financial documents, but sometimes things do happen and things get misplaced. I can't imagine that there is no access to that there at the office, and that it would take that much time out of their day to look that up for me.

I am sending in my form with the paycheck stub from November 1^st and a note telling them that I was unable to get a copy of the October 18^th paystub, along with the office address and phone number, and I hope this will suffice for them.

I was not pleased to have driven all the way down to office from Marion, having to bring my child with me only to find out that I could not get what I needed.

I don't know what can be done about this issue now, but I did want to let you know about the disrepectful treatment I received today.

Sincerely,

Another daughter update...

More news from the Heidi front...

Heidi finally had her appointment with the Developmental Pediatrician on Monday the 23rd. She didn't actually see the doctor for very long, but with the little time the doctor seen her, and talking to us about her, she did say that Heidi does fall into the spectrum of Autistic behaviors.

Okay, so now what? It's mostly just observation, for now. Heidi started preschool August 18th, and even though it is only for 2.5 hours 4 days a week, she loves it. Her teachers know about her needs, and they are working with her with and through Grant Wood Area Education Agency. She might go to some speech therapy, and other one on one interaction to see what she knows, how she expresses herself, things like that.

We have more papers to fill out and another doctor's appointment in a couple of weeks. I won't update on every appointment, but if something big happens, I'll be sure to update.

On the home front, like I said, Heidi loves school. She's getting into the routine of getting ready, and she loves music time and playing outside. She usually doesn't want to leave. It probably doesn't help that sometimes I have to park near a big playground she can't go on. :)

She is talking more, although still not as clearly for her age. We celebrate the small things like saying complete sentences, and I watched her pour her own glass of milk the other day. (That task still requires some supervision, however.)

She is still so sweet and innocent to the way people look at her with her behaviors. She doesn't know she shouldn't scream while picking up the son from school, that she shouldn't just go up to other kids and get right up in their business. She doesn't care if people stare or scowl. In that way, she is innocent. In other ways, such as getting into mischief at home, such as getting into the blinds or tearing the sheet off the bed again, she's not so innocent. But, that's Heidi. I want to protect her, as any parent does for their child, but I also have to let her go to a point and let her explore the world.

This is just the start of a process for us. Thank you all for your support as we work on this.

My family has been going through some rough times lately.

My daughter, Heidi might be autistic. It hasn't been officially diagnosed, but we're just starting the process with doctors to see if that might be the case. She's 4 years old, with about a 2 year old or less mentality. She doesn't say more than 40 words, and just this week I got the longest sentence from her ever. "I love you mom." She babbles nonsense, and screams loudly when she doesn't like what you say to her.

She crouches down and refuses to move when she doesn't want to walk. I often have to pick her up and carry her when she does that. She doesn't respond to most verbal commands, "Stop, please," "No, please." She runs at full speed, anywhere and everywhere. She has no fear.

She likes to be in her own little world at times. She likes to stack things, like books and blocks, and line things up, like cars and toys. She likes to imagine and talk to her special toys, and focus intently on certain tasks. (usually involving something not allowed).

She can be mean. She throws fits if it isn't done her way, I've been hit and kicked more times than I can count. She has a fascination with knives and forks, and would rather stab a pen through a paper than draw with it. She beats up her big brother, when he has something she wants. I try to curb this, but it isn't always easy. Sometimes it feels like I have a pet more than a child, with her behavior.

I'm getting better at figuring out what she wants, but it's hard when she just looks up at a section of the counter. There's 30 things on that counter, it could be any of them. And she can't tell me what hurts when she's sick, if I can't see it, she just cries and says "ow ow ow."

I hate it when she refused to get up off the floor, or screams at the grocery store, and people stare and sometimes glare. I can't help the way she is. I wish I could. But I still love her just as much as my son.

My daughter looks normal. She doesn't look like anything is wrong. She's tall for her age, and I've heard she's very cute. I call her Dastardly Cute. But I don't call her Sylar girl for nothing. She's cute and sweet when she wants to be, but, like Sylar, she's wired a bit differently inside as well.

Her Doctor referred her to a Developmental Pediatrician, for "developmental delays and questionable autistic", as I overheard. I'm not surprised. I'm a little sad, because I know it will be a struggle. But it's a start.

I just want people to know what's going on to try to understand and to not judge. Please.