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Turn down for Flerp

I don’t know if you knew this, but today is a very special holiday. Just in case we all suddenly fell and hit our heads and forgot, my darling daughter made sure to note it on the family calendar pretty much the moment we flipped over to April.

flerp-day

That’s right—Flerp Derp hopes you are all observing International Flerp Day today. (Translation: It’s her birthday. Please to remit candy immediately.) (more…)

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Trick your children into feeding you

I love to cook, you know. I do. I love food, I love trying new recipes, I love nourishing my family. But—and this may come as a shock, I know—sometimes I am just REALLY TIRED and I think to myself, “Aren’t these people old enough to feed themselves??” The answer is “sort of,” because left to their own devices, no one feeds ME, and that is sad.

So when I was offered a review opportunity with the “suggestion” that I turn it into a “get your teens excited about cooking” angle, I was allllllll over it. They said “write about your kids getting excited about meal prep” but I heard “force your children to prepare a lovely meal for you,” but whatever; potato, potahto, I’m in.

If you have your own disgruntled slave labor available—or even if you don’t, but think it would be fun to have fresh, delicious ingredients and recipes delivered to your door—you’re going to want to check out our experience with Blue Apron. (Spoilers: Chickadee wore my Wonder Woman apron, Monkey finally got his picture on the Internet, and dinner was delicious. Also, we have a special promo offer for readers you should go snag.)

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Developmentally (in)appropriate

It may not make sense to those of you with “normal” kids, but we always have to do a little celebration around here whenever we see “typical teen” behavior, given that whole asynchronous-development thing that tends to leave my special snowflakes lagging behind their peers in various ways.

So anyway, I had a touch of food poisoning or something, and Otto went out and bought me some crystallized ginger because he’s sweet, and then Monkey took it upon himself to enhance the label. I tried to get mad when I saw this, because COME ON, really? But on the other hand, it made me laugh, because WAY TO GO TOTALLY NORMAL AND DISGUSTING TEENAGE BOY. Well played.

crystallized-ginger

(There’s nothing like a little orgy to settle your stomach. Apparently.)

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Life lessons abound

I know; I know—we’ve been woefully short on amusing anecdotes here, lately. I’m falling down on the job. It’s pollen season, you see, and so my head is filled with cement and when I am not working or being a terrible, horrible burden on my children (UGH MOM WHY CAN’T I JUST LEAVE ALL MY CLOTHES ON THE FLOOR AND NEVER EAT OR SLEEP, YOU ARE THE WORST) I am doing exciting things like telling my husband that I have a million things to do, but I lack the motivation to get up off the couch.

Anyway! While I set this awesome example of productivity for my offspring, I am also working on helping them figure out when disclosure of their special needs makes sense, and it turns out that’s a much bigger deal than I ever would’ve imagined. But we’re figuring it out (and by “we” I mean “they,” because it’s all them).

Completely unrelated: Someone from Barbados keeps calling my cell phone and hanging up. Is it a wrong number? Someone working up the courage to talk to me (I’m not that scary, I swear)? This is just one of the mysteries I ponder while sitting on the couch blowing my nose. Don’t be jealous.

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Life is hard, and then you apologize

If some bizarre set of circumstances arose such that I could only say two phrases for the rest of my life and NO OTHER WORDS (wow, as the person my family regularly refers to as “she who makes with the many words,” what a terrifying prospect THAT is), I don’t even have to take time to mull over my choices. Without a doubt, the two most important utterances in the English language, to me, are:

“I love you”

and

“I’m sorry.”

Most people have no issues with that first one. We could probably all use some work on the second one.

I’m all apologies over at Alpha Mom, because I can’t be mad about other people struggling with it when I am, too, I guess. (Spoiler: Still mad, anyway. Working on it.)

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Because I’m the meanest

They say you should be careful what you wish for, you know. Sometimes I think I WISH MY CHILDREN WERE MORE SELF-SUFFICIENT and then… I have to learn how to let them be more self-sufficient, no matter what that looks like. It’s kind of agonizing. Because if they would JUST… it’d be so much easier IF… but don’t you SEEEEEEEEE…?

Hell hath no fury like a control freak thwarted, is my point.

But hey, my kids will be adults in just a few short years (hang on, I just need to breathe into this paper bag for a minute), and time marches on whether I like it or not. As scary as it is, I’m turning over the reins more and more, even when I know it’s not going to go the way I want to.

Hey, at least it affords me good blogging material. Come on over to Alpha Mom today to read about how I’m letting go of lunch, even if it kills me (and it might).

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Sleeeeeeeeep, glorious sleep

Sleeping is my very favorite hobby. This is what happens when you never get enough of it, I guess.

My kids don’t get enough sleep, either. At least, one of them doesn’t. The other one has a way of figuring it out, but try as I might to encourage a mind meld between the two of them, this talent doesn’t appear to be contagious. Dammit.

If you worry about sleep and your teenagers, come join in the angst with me over at Alpha Mom today. Spoiler alert: I don’t really have any answers, but at least I’m very, very tired.

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Crossing their furry little legs

It snowed this morning, which was Terribly Exciting. School was not canceled, however—SAD FACE—which was Terribly Disappointing. My poor, poor children, reared in snowy New England for the first half of their lives, complained that they would surely DIE on the school bus because of the tragic winter weather. There was an actual dusting of snow on the ground! THE HORROR!! Because we are suckers, Otto drove them to school.

Tempting though it is to declare the kids the wussiest wusses of Wussville in the face of this Major Weather Event, that title actually goes to the four-footed family members. You see, there is SNOW just sitting there ON THE PORCH. This is unacceptable. This means the dogs have ventured out just far enough to determine that OUCH OUCH COLD PAWS HELP OHNOES and then they run back inside. This means that it’s nearly lunchtime and neither dog has been outside to pee yet today. They have tiny bladders of steel, true, but I am still very afraid I’ll be stepping in a puddle sometime very soon. (So far they’ve just been sleeping here in my office, though, because Not Peeing uses up a lot of energy and they need naps.)

While we wait for His and Her Highness to deign to venture out for the ceremonial bladder-emptying, let us discuss the miracle of raising smarticles. Specifically, I’m examining a particular Very Dumb Thing a lot of bright kids do, over at Alpha Mom. I did it. My kids are doing it now. It’s making me INSANE. Please come tell me how to make them stop. Or lure the dogs outside. Either one.

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It’s gonna be quite the year

2015 has barely begun and already I can tell that it’s gonna be a doozy. Why, we’ve already had January, Month Of Eternal Sickness, and now we’re starting February, Month Of ZOMG PLEASE PUT ON A COAT. (You know how boys wearing shorts year-round is a thing? Here in Georgia, children facing 20-something-degree mornings but still refusing to wear a coat is apparently a thing. I am cold just looking at them.)

It recently occurred to me that if Chickie opts to apply to school somewhere via Early Action, we could know where she’s attending college before this year is over. Except that’s impossible, because she is my TEENY WEENY TINY SMUSHY BABY. Right? Right. That’s totally what I told myself when she was driving us home yesterday and I was calmly saying encouraging things like, “Try to stay on the road, honey.”

We’re gearing up to do some college trips very soon, so I wrote about it for Alpha Mom, because I’m beginning to realize this whole college selection thing is complicated. I mean, beyond just DO YOUR HOMEWORK I WANT YOU TO MOVE OUT SOMEDAY kind of complicated.

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These two things are unrelated

I am nothing if not inconsistent; I started writing here again and then I saw something shiny and wandered off. Or, more accurately, life happened and I realized I’d abandoned you again. I’m a jerk. I have no other defense.

There’s two things I’ve been meaning to share, though of course the more time that passes, the more I realize that they may be interesting only to me. NO MATTER! You will care about my Bowl Situation, yes you will, and also I can never resist the opportunity to point out when I have completely screwed up as a parental unit, so here we go.

Matter the first: “You’re fine!”
Monkey has missed quite a bit of school this month. We all had a stomach bug shortly after the kids returned post-winter-break, and then the following week he had a brief relapse, and so when the third week rolled around and he AGAIN said he wasn’t feeling great, I was having none of it. NO SIR, YOU ARE HEALTHY AS A HORSE, GO TO SCHOOL. I did this because:
1) I’m an idiot jerkface
2) I figured he had somehow become acclimated to the newish routine of “but I don’t go to school on Thursday/Friday anymore”
and
3) Sometimes I forget that hey, my autistic child has a VERY high threshold for discomfort and does not complain (mostly) unless he is probably dying*.

* Other spectrum parents are about to start nodding, but here’s the further explanation of the Sensory Weirdness that is our normal: Brush up against my child and he will howl that he has been punched, but give him a fever of 105 and he will say he’s fine. I don’t know why; that’s just how it goes. (more…)

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