Give Props When its Due

I haven't written for a few days because I really couldn't think of anything interesting to say.  Does Writer's Block only apply to professional writers and students the night before a paper is due?  Not sure.  The school holidays are upon me and I've been up to my neck in kids who have been acting their normal psychotic selves...nothing extraordinary to write about.  In 2 days we're leaving for Melbourne and I know I'll have a ton to write about then.  I really haven't wanted to start writing the, "I made the kids do chores and I washed the dishes" type of  riveting entries so I've been waiting for something worthy to happen.  And may I say was this morning worth the wait.  So here's to you my son, truly you have inspired me today.  Yes indeed, you really hit it out of the park for the team.  I'm actually still a little bit in awe of you.  Your efforts have not gone unnoticed and I promise you there will be a reward waiting for you once I can unclench my fingers and and get the eye twitch to go down enough that I'm not permanently winking at everyone.

So let us begin....Teddy started catching a cold yesterday.  That's a pain in my ass for 2 reasons. 
1.  He's asthmatic and colds turn to asthma quickly.
2.  We leave for Melbourne in 2 days and it will SUCK if he's sick.
3.  Wait!  Thought of something else, I need his help around here trying to get stuff cleaned and packed and ready to go and if he's sick he has too good of an excuse not to help.

This morning he was feeling a little better but he said his chest hurt a bit.  Ok, that's my first warning that things are kicking up a notch and I ask where his puffer (inhaler) is.  This is when the joy starts.  "Ummm,  I"m not sure...."  Great.  He's had a couple sporting events lately so it could be in one of several kit bags.  Not good.  So I trot off to his room to find it.  This is when the joy starts to hit the fan.  His room is a cesspool.  No, I'm serious.  It's vile.  He has candy wrappers stuffed into the book shelf, dirty clothes and clean clothes all over the floor.  Water bottles and cups everywhere.  Those god damn Nerf bullets shoved in places that the laws of physics can't explain.

What.the.Hell.is.going.on?

He has been sent to his room at LEAST 2 times in the past 6 days to clean.  He's gone in and spent a good 30-40 minutes in there.  Maybe it shouldn't be perfect but I shouldn't be able to use the words fetid and rancid in describing it.  That's when I hear him walk up behind me.  I didn't even turn to look at him.  I just said, "Let's go for honesty here...when you can in here to clean, you just sat down and did nothing, right?"  "Ummm, no.  I cleaned for a few minutes and then sat down and did nothing."  Me:  "A few minutes?"  Himself: " Well, I moved some stuff around"

Let's hear it for honesty.  I can honestly say that my eye started twitching at that moment.  But then he coughed and then I knew I was out of time so I start diving into the swill.  All the while I keep saying, "You know I love you right?"  "RIGHT?!!"  I want it said out loud in case I'm questioned about this later on.  As I'm picking through the rubble I stumble across a lizard.  No, a small one.  Still annoying so I told him he felt well enough to get it the Hell out of his room.  Captain Genius then tells me it's been there for a few days and it doesn't bother him.

Wow.  It doesn't bother him.  I'm so happy for his bonding with Nature moment, I really am.  However I felt the need to remind him that it DID bother me and to get up off of his ASS and get the damn lizard OUT.  In a calm, caring and full of respect kind of tone.  Lizard is removed.  Very humanely, I promise you Nature loving, spider worshiping, cicada cheering wackos out there.  You know who you are...

Back to the fun.  Rejoice!  I find not one but both of his inhaler chambers.  BUT the actual medicine tubes are gone.  I turn to Teddy and ask where they are, since they are not in the bags with the chambers.  This is the good part, wait for it....

HE ACTUALLY ADMITS THAT HE RAN OUT OF THE MEDICINE AND HE THINKS HE THREW THEM AWAY AND DIDN'T TELL ME!

I was so proud of myself...I very calmly say that I'll have to get new medicine as soon as the chemist opens in a hour or so. 

Then I say that he needs to eat something so I can give him his Tylenol/Pandol, and have him rest a bit and then he needs to actually clean something up in his room.

That's when all Hell breaks loose.  He exploded.  Sobbing furious tears, flinging himself down onto his bed and screaming into his pillow.  As god as my witness I have to idea what's happened.  I looked around to see if Connor was in the doorway making obscene gestures or something.  Nope, no one there.  I was kinda hoping she was there because honestly, I had no idea what the Hell was going on.  It took me 30 minutes to get him calmed down enough to get him to say that I hurt his feelings by saying "I loved him" over and over and then daring to say he needed to clean the room.  Wow...teen hormones?  Um, if they could be bottled I swear the body builders could give up the steroids.  I've seen guys suffering from 'Roid Rage and they have NOTHING on my kid.

So I explain to Himself that I say "I love you" repeatedly like that when I'm pissed off because I don't want to say something that could be held against me in a court of law.  Judges are famous for frowning on custodial parents uttering, "I can't &$%#&# believe you &^%$#* did this and I swear to *&^#*^% God I could take these *^%#$*$ Nerf bullets and shove them up your *^%$*^$*^% rear end until they come out your %$*^% nose.  So I try to censor myself...you know, be the adult in the room.  Since I don't do that a whole lot I'm actually quite proud of myself for being able to accomplish that in some small way. Chalk one up for Mommy!  Or so I thought.  Apparently it was just another one of my Evil Troll Mom mannerisms designed to destroy his life.   I really need to start using my powers for good as well as evil.  He starts to calm down and that's when I notice that the sobbing and hiccuping has been replaced with coughing.  Croup-like coughing.

Son.of.a.bitch...he's having an asthma attack and I have no medicine.  Bloody, bloody buggering Hell.  Now this is where the twitch combines with rapid blinking.

I race the the cabinet and can't find any prescriptions for the meds.  I did find an asthma card in my purse so I put Teddy to bed, grab the girls and drive like hell to my local chemist.  The girls of course are panicking and crying that Teddy is dying.  I'm trying to park the damn car inbetween 2 jackasses who don't get the park in the middle of the lines concept while trying to calmly tell the girls to knock it off and stop sobbing.  I get the Ventolin and race back and give him his inhaler.  It works straight away and now 2 hours later he's up and driving me nuts going to check the mail as he's waiting on his Xbox Chat pad to arrive. 

***Before I get inundated with hate mail asking if I've heard of an Emergency Room, his asthma is mild.  He was coughing but was still breathing with NO wheeze.  The chemist is 4 minutes away by car, 3 if you don't give a damn about speed limits.  If I had any concerns about his ability to breathe or the ability of the medicine to work I would have driven him straight to ER...***

I mention him be up and around because I want everyone to know that I have not killed him.  He is alive, breathing on his own and there are no marks on him.  I have successfully contained my rage and have not released the wrath of Khan onto him and I've done this because I channeled my energy into plotting his demise.  The entire drive to and from the chemist I plotted how I was going to beat his ass into the ground...after I save him with the medicine.  When I was stuttering to the chemist about why I needed the medicine - fabulous lady by the way, really hauled around to get what I needed - I was visualizing printing out every naked baby picture I have of him and handing them out at assembly at school.  I mentally locate the class list in my mind and pick out the phone numbers of the girls I'm going to call and discuss Teddy's initial disinterest in potty training.  When you're driving like Hell up and down a long road you can come up with a lot of revenge options. 

He's fine and now my blinking eye twitch is reduced to faint THWAB behind my left eye.  Now I can look back and see that my first mistake was 2 weeks ago when he came home from his school cricket game and I didn't say, "Put your puffer in the cabinet" and dealing with the lack of meds then.  My second mistake was finishing off the last bottle of champers last night and having to go through the rest of today sober.

Oh Thinkgeek, Thy Geekness Comes Through Again

When you are married to a geek, raising a geeks and have some geek tendencies yourself you have to find different ways of expressing love and affection than most people choose to employ. Unfortunately that can require a lot more creativity than most geeks are able to handle.  Fortunately there is a website that picks up the slack.  Of course you know that I am referring to ThinkGeek.com - the holy land of bizarre things than only very bizarre people can appreciate.

What I like most about ThinkGeek is that it appeals to all kinds of unusual.  IT geeks, Gamer Geeks, Science Geeks, Pop Culture Geeks, even some Historical Geeks.  Basically if you've ever looked at the t-shirt that someone was wearing, saw a poster or a tv show replica item in someone's house or a toy at a work place and said, "Dear God, where the HELL did you get that?"  It was from ThinkGeek.  I've been a proud customer of theirs for years.  1/2 of Ted's shirts come from ThinkGeek, the other 1/2 from his work, Atlassian.  A t-shirt company thinly disguised as a software design company.  I myself am a prideful wearer of the "Han Shot First" shirt from ThinkGeek - if you have to ask then you don't truly appreciate Star Wars and if you don't, well maybe you shouldn't be reading this anyway.  I bought Teddy a fine selection of Portal 2 fun stuff and of course Tessi's "Soft Kitty" shirt and stuffed animal all come from there.  That's just how we roll in our Geek house.

I write this today because FINALLY after almost 3 weeks my shipment from ThinkGeek arrived.  I tried their new economy shipping to Australia and DAMN!  I was really scared it wouldn't make it.  With 2 mailing days left it came!!!!!   I bought some things for Connor's birthday in May and the rest for Easter.  I have outdone myself this year.  Not 1 but TWO chocolate zombie bunnies.  One for Ted and one for Teddy.  A Han Solo frozen in carbonite chocolate bar for Connor - our star wars groupie, she is worse than I am...I love it. and for our princess chef... magic wand spice dispensers.  Here's a picture I just posted on Facebook.

It's ok a to be a little jealous.  It is amazing.

 I am riding a high that I just can't describe right now.  It won't last.  My kids will squeal with joy for about 30 seconds on Sunday and move straight onto the "What have you done for me lately?" but right now I don't care.  I have provided them with a coolness that is hard to come by.  I'm going to take a few minutes and just revel in this.  I don't get too many moments like this.  Usually my life life is broken down into moments between snarls, screams, whines and death threats.  Well they aren't threatening me but I hear them turning on each other.  My point is that if it weren't for my ear buds I would seldom hear anything nice.  But now I know that I have coming to me my due.  A FULL 10 seconds of kid war cry screaming my praises.  Maybe to you that's not much but in my world that's a God Damn Lifetime Achievement Academy Award and I'm not even close to being dead yet.  HA!!!


By the way, I TOTALLY NEED THIS COAT.  I'm serious. I'm serious.  See the secret compartment for the ear buds?  This is a MUST have to survive the school's Education Week Concert.

  But I'm not selfish, this coat is pricey, I can do with this one -

No, not as many pockets but it does but the ear buds close and keeps the iPhone handy.  ThinkGeek, I love you.  Seriously, I have a major crush on you.  Thank you for making Easter AWESOME!!! 


So Women's Weekly , Martha Stewart Living, whatever damn thing Rachel Ray has come up with for Easter that is so damn clever and only requires 48 hours of prep time, 3 yards of tulle, a staff of 12 of glitter in places that are just wrong - HA!  I'm AWESOME MOM and I only had to click a few buttons on the keyboard.

Autism Awareness Month is Every Day

I have mixed emotions about the official designation of April as the Awareness Month for Autism.  Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that people are starting to pay attention.  It's absolutely needed and honestly, anything that raises money to help people with Autism and their families, well I'm on board 100%.  It's my personal reaction about seeing Awareness things that get me.

I don't own any puzzle piece jewelry.  I have no t-shirts with cute pithy sayings about Autism.  I can't.  Every time I look at them I get this weird clench in my stomach.  I wonder if women with Breast cancer feel the same way about October and the Race for a Cure stuff.  The pink ribbon...do they cry a bit thinking, I wish to God I didn't need to see this stuff?

Obviously in my family every day is Autism Awareness Month.  Trust me some days, it does feel like a month in a single day.  Every day I either my husband, my son, or I get it rammed down our throats that there is always something "off" with either or both of the girls.  They do fantastic at school and fit in with the mainstream beautifully but at home..well that's a different story.  Think of the toddler.  The child that behaves so well for preschool and then comes home a holy terror?  A street angel but a house devil is a phrase I've heard.  That's what it's like with my girls.

However if I'm honest I have to say out loud to the masses that we are lucky.  We have it so good compared to others.  Yes, I'm pulling my hair out because Connor is obsessive compulsive and asks the same question 15 times in a day.  However she speaks.  I know children her age who don't.  Connor's fear of being alone is backbreaking some times.  However, with the right therapy she has improved.  I know many kids her age who will never improve.  Tessi's temper is such a nightmare we live in fear of setting her off.  But I do know some tricks to help stay a tantrum.  I know many kids who fly off the handle with no warning and are gone for hours...no I am not exaggerating for HOURS before they calm down.  The next time your small child tees off and pitches a fit in a store for 15 minutes I want to imagine that horror for another hour and 45 minutes.  Only you can't just leave like the all-knowing adults around you advise because you have to buy food for the family and it's the only chance you have to be at the store.  Please think about that.

Yes, we are lucky.  However we are still in the club.  A club no one ever wants to be a member of and there is no way out.  My daughters will never be cured.  No matter how well they do there will always be a real chance of failure because of how their brain processes information.  They think differently than the world around them does.  It's always been a foregone conclusion that my son will go to college and be able to get a job that he wants and support himself.  Most likely my daughters will be able to.  But it's not a given.  They must do extra work, learn how to do things differently, live outside their comfort zone to have a chance at success.  If they do all of that, they SHOULD be ok.  And they are the lucky ones.  I am congratulated by friends whose children were in therapy groups with my girls as having "made it" - you see, their kids haven't.  I just congratulated a friend who's 8 year old son has recently been toilet trained.  Still using pull ups at night of course, but during the day...!!!  This was a major accomplishment for him and his family.  Think about when you were training your 2 or 3 or even 4 year old...imagine still doing that at 8.  In some ways I think it's easier if you know there is no hope of toilet training or whatever "normal" thing you're trying to accomplish.   If there was no hope then she could have moved on, dealt with the pain and learned to adapt.  My friend has been living the last 6 years in limbo, hoping it would happen. Knowing if she just found the one trick, the one way to reach him, she could have helped him succeed in minutes.  Feeling the failure of not succeeding...

For the rest of this month I'm not planning on typing any major diatribes about Autism or being aware.  On my Facebook page I'm simply going to put up some pictures that speak to me in a serious or funny way-depends on my mood swing.  I will ask this, if you are able to spare any money at all please consider giving to Autism Speaks or any local Autism services provider.  I know money is tight and we all have problems but even $5 will help.  The next best thing you can do to help is to publicly mock and put down Jenny McCarthy and those anti-vaccine nutters.  They have done nothing to help a single child and but have done loads to hurt them.

Science and doctors may not be Gods but they are not the enemy.  Please take time to educate yourself.  If you know someone who cares for an Autistic ask them what they need for help.  Or just stop one day and tell them they are doing a good job if their child has shown up in clean clothes and isn't screaming.  Some days, that's all we have.  Remember, we're the "lucky ones" because our kids have somewhere to show up.

I Need to Save Money....

Don't ever say this phrase out loud. This is heard as a challenge by Fate, the Fae, God, Yahweh, the Little People or whomever you chose to fear teaching you a lesson.

This week has been an expensive week and I firmly believe it's because I stupidly announced that I needed to save as much as I could for this upcoming trip to Melbourne. The words were barely out of my mouth when Teddy said, "Mom, my feet hurt"

Damn growth spurts. Sigh. Went I to the Athlete's Foot and paid $110 for sneakers. I pay this much because my son nicknamed "Destroyer of Shoes" will rip and tear up shoes just by walking to school in them. By walking I of course mean jump on mate's back, kick out his knees and drive him to the ground and kick the rugby ball around until someone somewhere bless. If I don't spend the $110 and go with the $30 sneakers I get about a months wear, instead I get 6-10 months.

The girls also needed shoes but I did get the cheaper ones as they just supposed to be quick slip on ones. Another $60 in the hole and we're out the door.

The very.damn.next.damn.day Teddy comes home from his day at the Paul Kelly Cup AFL tournament for school saying, say it with me,"Mom, my feet hurt". It seems that his boots from last year are too tight. I look at them and crap.... They are a size 4. The sneakers I just bought were size 6. Whoops. Yep, the boy needs boots.

Today I took him to Rebel Spots- the Aussie answer to Academy Sports. I head to the Youth section and we find cool blue striped ones for $59. Ok, I can deal. It takes me a few mint yes to convince Teddy that he needs to try them on. Under duress he sits down undoes the laces and rams one foot in. I say rams because he really had cram that sucker in. Uh oh.

To Teddy's horror I insist on having one of the Rebel guys help us fit the shoe. Turns out that a 6 in a boot.is not going to fit so we have to go across the isle to men's shoes.

Son of a bitch.


I swear because even though there is only a fraction of an inch difference b
in length between and 6 and 7 they are miles apart in price. See we have now left the sheltered worth of Youths and are now in the cold dark mean streets of Men's.

The first pair I saw was $219. For leather shoes with plastic studs on the bottom. Nike, not Jimmy Choo. This for a kid that has to be told to change clothes after 24 hours. A kid who has to be told NOT to put his dirty clothes back on after he showers. $219 for shoes that he will wear twice a week for 4 months and then grow out of?!!! No bloody buggering way.

After the paddles were brought out to jump start my heart I was shown less expensive shoes.   We managed to squeak out with $90.

That brings my total extra spending this week to $260...for shoes.  For people who could literally outgrow them in weeks.

You have all read about my problem with the dryer and no, I haven't called the repairman yet.  The shoes is partly why.  I'm trying to be as economical as I can about money regarding this trip.  We're staying at a caravan park, I'M DRIVING FREAKING 10 HOURS WITH 4 DAMN KIDS INSTEAD OF FLYING 1 HOUR, I'm cooking most of the meals at the cabin.  Really, I am doing my part to make this less expensive.  But Life's little WHOOPS expenditures are throwing me for a loop.  Did I mention also that Easter is next week and we stupidly went along with the tradition of getting presents and candy for the kids.  What the HELL were we thinking?!!

Ugh....I swear to God I don't care.  If Teddy mentions anything else about sore feet I'm just going to wrap them in duct tape and call it done. 

Differences Between Kids and Adults

Don't smirk at me.  I mean besides the obvious ones.  I'm sick.  Cut me some slack.

Last Friday Teddy woke up with a death cold.  He wasn't faking.  Sneezing, headache, body aches, the works.  I gave him a panadol (Tylenol) around 8 am as it took me an hour to fully believe that he was sick and not just messing with me.  Anyway, I drove the girls to school came back home and started on some work I had to do.  By about 11:30 he was better.  By better I mean perfectly damn fine.

Sigh...I knew I gave him the medicine too soon.  Damn it.  Really that was a rookie mistake.  So he's home, healthy and bored off his butt.  Lovely.  It was a long day until I left to get the girls.

Fast forward a few days to yesterday which was Wednesday.  I had a rather long day - which I mentioned on my FB page but really don't feel like typing again.  Last night I started sneezing and my throat hurt.  Crap.  The little bastard gave me his cold.  I woke up this morning moaning and making the horrible old lady noises without even moving.  That's when I knew I was in trouble.  Usually I have to at least stand up before the noises start erupting.  Whoooo Boy, Mama is sick.

Only I don't get to just lay in bed.  I have to get the kids up and out or else they'll be home all day with me...that's not even worth joking about.  So I stumble around swearing occasionally...alright I may define occasionally different than some of you.   However to my mind I was still exercising some considerable restraint.

I got the kids to school and on the drive I only had to ask twice, "Where am I going?" and then Teddy directed me along.  Not bad.  I'm home now and I'm blogging this, and I plan to buy some rook racks for the car on Ebay and then I'm going to bed until 2 until it's time to get the minions.

The difference you asked through bored clenched teeth? 

I could pop all the drugs I want right now and I still won't be better until at least tomorrow - if I'm lucky.  That little snot had ONE panadol (Tylenol) and was FINE 3 1/2 hours later.  I could shoot up painkillers and enjoy a scotch chaser and I'll STILL be sick tomorrow.  Why?

Mainly I think it's because children are actually alien spawn and their human bodies are delivered by the mother ship until they are in their 20's.  Once the real bodies are here on Earth they start to react normally to colds and medicines.  Think about it...it explains a lot.

The other reason, much less entertaining is that Teddy got to lay down and do nothing for hours.  I got3 kids up and out for school - Ted was here and did help quite a bit, I do want to acknowledge that.  But I packed 3 lunches, and did a load of laundry which I will hang outside in a few minutes.  I'm cancelling Tessi's SLT therapy tonight but I will still have to trek out at 7:30 to pick up Teddy from AFL training as Ted has another corporate kegger to attend.

Yes, I'm goofing off here instead of resting, I know.  Trust me, I will pay for that.  But  still think if I could beat down that stupid voice in my head that says, "The dishes have been in the sink almost 24 hours - doooo theeemmm"  or "laundry won't hannnggg itsellllffff" then I might be able to recuporate.  Many years ago a friend of mine was sick and I was trying to encourage her to rest.  She piped up with words of wisdom her grandmother told her, "If every woman laid down every time she was sick the world would stop"

Think about that.  It would stop.  YOU KNOW WHY????  WE DO A CRAP LOAD OF STUFF!  Maybe if one or two of us sat down a bit more people might realize that we are doing some needed things and send help.

Sorry, that must be the fever delusions talking.  Alright, I'm off to take advantage of a quiet house for a few hours.  After of course, I get the laundry hung, wash the dishes and sweep the floor.

Then again, I might just say bugger it and download some good trashy books and daydream at boarding school websites.

Happy Anniversary

Five years ago today my family stumbled blear- eyed off of a 14 hour flight and woke up in Sydney.  A new country, a new continent and even a new hemisphere.  Within 24 hours of travel time we left the mild temps of Spring in North Texas and arrived in the mild temps of Fall in Australia.  Looking back I marvel at our audacity and stupidity.  My husband, being a military brat, grew up around the world.  So moving wasn't new to him.  I moved all over the Northeastern US as a kid so I wasn't a slouch either.  But moving as a kid is VERY different than moving as an adult.  I developed a new found respect for my parents and my in-laws.

Moving is vile.  Moving with kids is horrific.  Moving internationally with kids is beyond words.

In our arrogance Ted and I thought we'd be fine because 1) we've moved before, many times and 2) Australians speak English.  We figured we would just have to learn to drive on the other side of the road and all would be good.  I don't think its possible for us to have been any more wrong.  From learning about subtle,  yet important culture differences to learning to drive on the other side of the road to finding out they are serious about closing stores at 5:00 to constantly being the US representative for every damn thing that happens - "I don't know what George Bush was thinking, that's kinda why we're here" - it was all right there...in our faces every day.  On top of that mountain there was the minor task of raising 3 young children; 2 of which were within a year of being diagnosed with Autism.  Every night I knew, I just knew it was all going to Hell and we weren't going to be able to pull it off.  When it takes 3 months to get a telephone installed you know things aren't looking good for the home team.  My mother had died 4 months before we moved and I was still reeling from grief...no matter how old you are when you're scared, alone and lost you just want your mom.  I still do.  If I sit very quietly and concentrate I can smell her perfume...Emmeraude.

It was a nightmare.  And it was one of our own choosing to add insult to injury.

But then things change.  I made friends with some of the moms at Teddy's school.  I got the girls into a pre-school.  We bought a car and within 6 months I could drive without feeling nauseous.  We were the Yank family - I started feeling like there were things I could do.  Things I could handle.  Connor and Tessi were in their therapies and while I'd be a massive liar if I said it was easy or even not horrible...it was working.  Both my daughters are in a mainstream school. Many people don't even know they are Autistic.  Teddy is doing well and is known as Texas Ted by some, well people who like to annoy him.  We laugh that he's bilingual because he knows the words nappies and diapers and can use Imperial and Metric.

So what I have I learned in 5 years.

1)  People are people no matter where you live.  In a group of 3 people, 2 will talk about the 3rd.  The gaggle of moms at the school is the same everywhere.  Kids are vicious little monsters to each other one minute and then offer unconditional love the second.

2)  Americans have a really bad reputation outside the US.  Some of it deserved, some of it not.  Yes, we have our share of rotten jerks in government and many mistakes have been made.  However racism, bigotry, greed and cowardice were not invented in the US. What has YOUR government done to stop injustice?

3)  The Pacific Ocean is NOT warm.  I freeze my tush off every time I get into the water at the beach.  Seriously, 1000 degrees in the shade and I step in the water and my teeth turn blue.  Insane.

4)  Australians are the BEST at understanding that you work hard and you play hard.  I mean this with the utmost respect.  When they are on holiday work can stick it.  I love that.  Americans really could learn from this ideology.  I bet the number heart attacks would plummet.

5)  They have weird beautiful terrifying and ridiculous insects here.  Seriously.  I thought most of this stuff was made up.  It's not.  See some of my previous posts.

6)  Australians are fiercely independent but have a weird tie to the Crown.  Americans will NEVER understand any reason why a county would allow another country to have say over their government, recognize their holidays or have the Queen on their money.  Australians will never understand the American need to be on it's own and turn it's back on a fundamental part of it's history.  Deal with it.  We're just going to have to agree to disagree.  By the way, I will NOT sign an allegiance to Betsy when I become a citizen in a few years.  The Australian Govt now has another form immigrants can sign because there were so many objections.

7)  The Australians have treated their indigenous population just as horribly as the Americans treated the Native Americans.  There is no restitution strong enough to rectify that fact.  The horrors were just too great.  I think apologies are needed from the governments (Australia has done so) but the indigenous people need to give up thinking that they will get enough repayment to make amends.  Both sides need to move forward.  The future generations deserve peace.

8)  I will never fully understand Cricket.  I swear to God they change the rules just to mess with me.  5-6 hours to play 1/2 the game?  Stopping for tea breaks?  Professional games that can last 5 days and end in a drawl?   Nooooo,  that's weird to me.  I like AFL as it makes more sense to me.  You run, kick the ball and hit people.  That is a sport I can relate to.  Rugby is growing on me.  But to be honest, I miss my Steelers.  Go B&G!!!!!!!!!!!

9) I miss my family in the US and I miss cheap shopping.  Christ Almighty things are expensive here.  But I don't want to live in the US again.  I'm not a True Blue Aussie but I'm not a Yankee Doodle Dandy anymore.  Not sure what that makes me.  Perhaps a little of both?

Happy Anniversary Tencza Family!

Time for the Talk

No, no.  Not the sex talk.  I'll never be old enough for that talk.  I prefer my children learn about that in embarrassing school classes and secret discussions with their buddies....like decent people.  I'm referring to the talk with the girls about not doing things because a boy told them to do it.

I had great hopes that we were moving beyond this as a society.  A man says it so it must be true.  Utter crap.  Sadly though, with the plummeting status of woman's rights in the US coupled with the most bizarre women's costumes in video games, seriously, doesn't the law of gravity have any standing in games and comic books?  Has anyone seen the "new and improved" Wonder Woman's outfit?  Yea....MAJOR changes there. It's become apparent that I have to start at the beginning with my girls.

Right now I'm most concerned about my youngest.  Tessi from about age 18 months until age 5 was one of the toughest broads you would ever be scared to meet.  And I say that with love.  She wasn't scared of damn thing and if you crossed her, well if I can be blunt for a few minutes....Tessi could put the the fear of God into an Atheist.  Seriously, this little chick used to follow me room to room just so she could kick me.  She is the one who started the fistfight with Connor (knock down, roll around on the ground, hair-pulling donnybrook) over who got to name their baby doll Baby Zoe, after my friend's daughter.  Teddy's friends learned early that even though the package was pretty she would snap you like a twig and spit in your grave if you annoyed her.  Really, she was tough.

Now however there is a new Tessi.  She cries over.every.damn.thing.in.the.world.  Sobs over dead fish. Wails over injustices and keens like a banshee if she feels slighted in the least possible way.  Tell her that her shoe is untied and then spend 20 minutes getting her to stop hiccuping and sobbing.  It's seriously aggravating.  I've been hoping it's just a phase, one of those annoying quirky things that you go through to test out your feelings and identity.  Connor was a whiner too ...still is but it's not so bad.  So the past year I've been hanging on by my fingertips waiting for her to realize what crap it is and go back to the fun of being an uber bitch.

That's not happening.  To my horror it's getting worse.  The final straw for me is now what Tessi wears for her sports uniform.  Tessi has always preferred dresses.  Honestly, I don't care.  Really I don't.  You want to flash your knickers at everyone as you tumble around, hey I don't judge.  Mainly because I don't have to see it and as I've mentioned, I really don't give a damn.  Tessi has ALWAYS had the most insane fun with wiggling her bottom at you.  I figure no one has called the cops yet so I've put it low on the list of crap I have to deal with immediately.  So Tessi started off in the skirt  in Kindy and then at the end of the year she decided that she wanted shorts.  The knickers thing really does get old.  That's cool.  Connor's been wearing shorts for almost 2 years...I'll buy shorts.  What the Hell, it'd been 20 minutes since I'd last forked out money on a kid.  No problem.  Tessi starts her shorts and then she's happy as a clam.

Fast forward from December to the beginning of March.  I noticed on Friday's that Tessi was wearing her skirt again.  Well, it took me a while to notice.  Just a bit.  See, I'm not always on top of my laundry so most Friday's start with a yell, "Mommy!!!!  I don't have any uniforms!"  To which I usually gleefully race to do laundry or sometimes, just sometimes, say, "Oh Jesus Christ, check your laundry basket or dig deep in the back of your closet!"  Or something like that.  Anyway, Missy is back to wearing skirts and today I noticed that her shorts were in fact clean and in her closet.  Why Tessi, why aren't you wearing them?

"Well, um...you know Muskan?", she tearfully mumbles.  Muskan?  The pretty little girl from your Kindy class last year?  Yes, I know her.  This puzzles me.  Muskan always has a bright smile on her face and is famous for her sweetness, really it would be sickening if it wasn't so damn genuine.  "Um well, her little brother, um he said when I was wearing my shorts I was wearing BOY CLOTHES and girls can't wear BOY CLOTHES"

Okay.  So the little brother of a girl who isn't even in your class anymore tells you that shorts are boy clothes so now you won't wear them.

REALLY?  REALLY?  And you bought that crap??!!!  

Oh Hell no.

I can not believe that I am going to have to sit Miss Thang - the former terror of the street down and and explain that we do not let other people tell us what we can wear....especially boys.  I have put up with this mamby pamby, wussy, oh whatever you want dear crap long enough.  She has the stones to fight with her sister who is a foot taller than her but not a kid a year younger and 6 inches shorter?  Like Hell.  I feel like the the designer from the Incredibles shouting at Elastic Girl, "What is this?  Fight, Win!  Confront the problem!"

Wear the skirt because you want to.  Not because some boy says you should.  If I hear one more line in a book, on TV, in a conversation with a friend or overheard on the playground  about "cause a boy said" I am going to do something extremely unpleasant.  I thought the days of marches and bra burnings were over but it seems like it might be time to bring them back full steam.  Me being a strong woman does not mean that I want to make men weaker.  My husband is a very strong man and he strength is not dependent upon my weakness.  And I love him for that.  This is the message I want to convey to my girls...my son too.

So when Tessi gets home we're going to chat.  It's time for the ball-busting, I'll make YOU cry Tessi to come back.  At least at school.  Nothing would make me happier than to get a call from the school saying, "Ummm Cecelia, could you come in for Tessi...she's hung up Samreet with her sports skirt...again"

"Why, yes, I'll be happy to bring her shorts"

What's in a Name?

Thadeus Edward Tencza.  It's my son's, husband's and father in law's name.  My father in law has several cousins and nephews named Thadeus also.  It's the Tencza name.  We use it.  A lot.

However, yesterday it really bit me having a son and a hubby with the same name.  Yesterday Teddy took another step away from childhood by being allowed to take a bus home alone.  I took the girls to gymnastics and Teddy was allowed to walk to the station and get himself home.  It's a test for both of us on handling the trimming of the cord so-to-speak.  I have a mobile phone for him only to use when he's on these alone missions with the understanding that he has to call or txt me when he gets there safely.  Being the anal-retentive...I mean organized person that I am I pre-programmed his phone with all the numbers I thought he'd need plus I programmed my phone with his email, phone number, picture and personalized ring tone.  Howard Wolowitz from Big Bang Theory shouting, "I am the Swordmaster!!!"

Anyway, I was counting the seconds waiting to hear from him while I was sitting on the ground outside gymnastics with some of my friends and Connor and her friends while Tessi was inside.  "Iam the Swordmaster!!!" belted out and Teddy's voice come out saying, "Mom?  Can you...."  click.  I try calling him back but no answer.  I then lost reception. THANK YOU OPTUS!  Reconnected and started going through my address book to find him and call him back.  I hit what I thought was Teddy and ended up calling Ted.  At work, I'm sure in a meeting.  Crap.  Now I've interrupted Ted and I STILL don't know if Teddy was ok or not.  Now I am panicking because I know that Teddy only called me because he was being attacked by a pack of rabid wolves or 12 year old girls.  Both savagely vicious.  By the way, in case you haven't guessed, I'm not doing too well with this cutting the cord crap.

Phone rings again and it was Teddy, all was ok.  Somehow he put the phone in Airplaine mode...I don't know, it's a damn Droid...I can't use those damn things.  Anyway all is good.  I hang up relieved and decide I should let Ted know.  So I type up a quick text lamenting the woes of being scared shitless and send it off...to TEDDY.  Damnit.  I yell and swear which of course brings Connor and her friends over to laugh at the stupid parent who can't operate a mobile phone.  Shut up Girls before I hit you with my cane.

So I send message off again.  Once again it's to freakin Teddy.  Son.of.a.bitch.  Now not only did I do it again my swearing is REALLY peaking the interest of those around me.  Great.

I stop, take a deep breath and type, "Ignore that last damn message!" and send and then Teddy responds ok.  Good man, he's learning to deal with woman ala his father..very wise.  Less is more.

So in the end I did the only thing I felt I could.  I changed Teddy's name to Lord Dumbass in my phone.

Don't judge me.  That WAS me being polite.

Desperate Plead for Help with Translations

I don't mean to sound dramatic but I could desperately use some help right now with translating words and phrases into English.  Please look at the following pictures.  They are pictures of a chart I put up to explain what needs to be done in the morning before school.  We always put visual aids to explain things to be done.  Both Connor and Tessi have always done better when they see pictures.  It's one of the many things therapists teach parents when you first learn your child is Autistic.  I've always been amazed at how much better they work than using speech with the girls.  Actually not just the girls, all kids.

Anyway, here is the chart.

 I went ahead and took some close up shots of the pictures and instructions for you.

 Does this seem easy to read?  Lower age vocabulary?  Easy to understand?

Are the images clear?  Any ambiguity on the meaning?

Good.  What I need help with is understanding the double meanings that some of these phrases or even pictures have.    See my kids are having problems following this chart.  Can anyone point out the phrases that actually mean, "chase the cat up and down the steps?"  Does "eat breakfast" translate to"needle your sister until her head explodes" or is it the picture of the sandwich that shouts, "forget to put on socks!"

Now, I 'm quite serious.  I have taken several linguistics classes in college, even one in high school so I am fully educated in the principle of hidden meanings and double entrendres.  I know EXACTLY what it means when a female says, "Fine, go ahead and do it" and trust me it is never that.  Imagine my confusion then when I can not find the extras in this chart.  I really must be as stupid as my children have been accusing me of being.  So be honest, it's the picture of the backpack that is a hidden cult message that screams, "Don't remember that you wear the same frickin' shoes every day and for Chrissake, don't remember where they are"  No?  Too obvious.  Man, they are clever little SOB's.  It's the "do hair" phrase isn't it?

Ok, I've got that now.  Where is the code hidden for, "be unable to.do.a.single.god.damn.thing. without your mother repeating it 12 times?"  Now that one I'm going to have to fall on my hands and knees and beg you people to find for me.  Unfortunately, that one is causing my eye twitch to return. As well as a colossal headache.  Apparently it's also in there that they should not remember how to find a spoon in the drawer for the cereal or where we keep the milk.  No I'm not kidding.  Where we keep the milk.  One more time.  WHERE THE DAMN MILK IS KEPT.  I was asked that today.  Twice.

Please let me know what you can find out for me.  I'm afraid I didn't bring my A game to parenting this morning and Mommy had a little meltdown.  I have informed all 3 that tomorrow I will come downstairs, set out breakfast items and items for lunch.  I will do hair if asked and I will listen to readers if requested. That is the only part of the normal morning routine I will participate in.  I WILL get a single freaking cup of tea drunk in UNDER 20 minutes if it kills me.  At 8:20 I will announced that I am leaving to drive them to school.  Anyone still in their jammies or knickers and unfed will have an UNPLEASANT day at school as they will STILL BE IN THEIR GOD DAMN JAMMIES OR KNICKERS AT SCHOOL.

I'm going back to bed now as I'm sure you can imagine, my head hurts.  If I'm not at school pick up whatever you do, DO NOT CALL ME.

An Update for the Basketball Problem

Since so many people responded to my plea for help about the young boy on Tessi's basketball team I felt I should post a bit of an update.

I did send an email to my friends whose girls on the team.  Both reacted not only kinder than I anticipated but exactly in kind with the Aussie "fair go" feeling that I have come to love.  Both moms responded that I shouldn't approach the little boys mum, she should enjoy her happiness as long as possible.  Were there ways they could help?  Since it was obvious this was a case of a child needing some extra help, rather than extra parenting, both ladies jumped on board full force asking how best to help out.

They humble me.

We had our first practice session this morning and it was great.  Instead of this glaring "US" vs "THEM" feeling it was about what it should be - teaching all the kids to do as well as they could on the team.  We decided to teach the kids to stick their hands out in a "low 5" position when he come by trying to bang into them.  This way he gets his sensory fix (the need for contact to get his bearings) and the other kids are a part of helping with that without getting body checked into the ground.  To help with

To help with the frustration caused by changing baskets we are going to have 1 parent stand at the end underneath the basket holding a red card.  If the child gets the ball and starts charging down the court and no red card, they are to turn around and head for the other basket.  That's really for all the kids, not our AS kid.

We talked about rules about subbing on the court.  Every child has to come out at least 2 times to let a team mate play and if they whine, cry or ignore the coach they are off for 2 rotations.

We are going to practice in the uniforms so all the kids can see their team mates and learn to recognize them and then not steal the ball from their own team.

At the end of today's practice the mom of the little boy gushed with all the effort put into making this work for the kids.

It's the best I've felt in a long time about working with kids with extra needs.

This feeling isn't permanent, there will be many tales of woe with this team.  There's nothing easy about any aspect of life on the Spectrum.  However, it least there is hope.  Some days the worst part about living on the Spectrum is that there is no hope.  Well, not today.  Not with the 6 and 7 year old Screen Shots.

I'm so proud to be a part of this group.  Thank you.

The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions

After school yesterday the girls started talking about a boy at school who was chasing everyone and trying take things from kids. He's in ED, a special class on our campus that helps kids from other schools who are having severe anger management troubles. Both Tessi and her friend plus Connor started lamenting the woes of this holy terror Ben.  Connor then said that he chased her today and had her pinned against the wall and wouldn't let her go for a while.  Immediately I launched into ass-kicking mode as I myself, had a bit of a stramash today with some ED kids while at Canteen.

I explained to Connor today that she has every right to defend herself if someone is behaving badly and hurting her.  I said the next time Ben or anyone else pinned her like that and refused to let her go she should pull her knee up between their legs and dry to drive it up to their chin.

Boy or girl, that hurts.

I got a few giggles but then all the girls agreed it was a good idea. Ben was a real problem.  Even Tool Cool for Words Teddy agreed. He didnt know the kid offhand but he offered to rack the kid for her tomorrow if Connor didn't think she could do it. Ahh, the bonds of love, I'm feeling it now. I continued on, saying that Daddy and I would go and talk to the principal and she didn't have to put up with this.

Feeling love and support Connor announced she did have "back up" with her friends and felt she could handle it.

Thats when she mentioned Ben was in Year 1.

Connor is in Year 3.

Then Connor added that Ben was very short for a Year 1, to which the younger girls agreed very loudly. "Yes, he's angry, but he is really, really short"

I have just told my freakishly tall Year 3 daughter - she is taller than many YEAR 5 kids, to rigorously defend herself by viciously kneeing a freakishly small Year 1 kid.

Obviously I back peddled as fast as I could and told her to try gently pushing back at his shoulders. To use her words to stop him and of course call a teacher for help.

I think you and I both know that I'm getting a call from school today.

Rejecting Realities

I have canteen duty today and sometimes I like to wear a funny t-shirt.  Something that amuses me and usually makes people stare at me a bit.  This is getting harder and harder to do as 1) I've already worn my cool ones and haven't bought  more and 2) it's harder and harder to raid Ted's closet 4 out of 5 shirts are Atlassian ones with jokes that only Atlassian employees get.

I found this one this morning, "I reject your reality and substitute my own"  A classic Mythbusters one.  As I was debating it's merits I realized that it was more than a funny saying, it's my damn job description.  That's the stage I've reached with the boy, formerly known as my son.  I'll type his name again when I can stand to see it or his face without gritting my teeth.

Yesterday, nope still too pissed to type it all, let's just say he did something so stupid that it's almost impressive.  The impressive part lies in his reasoning for doing it and his thoughts for being sure he'd get away with it.  Mainly that he forgot that I get email conformations when he buys games and he was sure he could convince me that he actually bought it months ago with his dad's approval.

See his reality now is that he can lie and get away with it.  He doesn't like something and he will lie.  He lies when it makes more sense to tell the truth.  It's bizarre to watch him spin his web of deception and think that another human being will believe him.  He really becomes quite enraged when I am so discourteous as to not only point out the lie but then have the gall to call him a liar. 

Mainly because the more he says it the more it becomes real.  His reality.  My job is to reject it.  And oh I am.  I told him yesterday that we both knew I could not force him to stop lying.  It's silly to even suggest that I can.  What I can do is make his life a living HELL when he is caught.  He tried to be cool and come back with, "My life already is Hell"  Funny, that one is.  That one almost made me smile.  He really believes that this is the worst part.  I'm not going to do what that parent in North Carolina did and shoot his computer...but I do plan on making him wish for it.  At least then it will be over.

So from now on when someone asks what I do as a Stay at Home Mom I will answer with an official, t-shirt sanctioned job description.  I reject your reality and substitute my own. 

I need to get it printed on different colors though....constant black might be intimidating.

I'm Afriad I'm Becomming One of THOSE People

I have a problem.  I'm in between two groups of people and I have to make a decision as to what to do and I really don't know how to handle it.

Tessi is on a basketball team of 7 and 8 year old girls and boys.  She has 2 of her super BFF's on her team and not one kid knows the first thing about basketball.  That's ok.  They are all out their doing really silly stuff but they are having fun.  Some of the time anyway.  A lot of the time, no....they are not having fun.  There in lies the problem.

Two of the boys are aggressive.  They are both constantly banging into each other, pushing and shoving. They push and shove everyone else, regardless of ball position or floor position or well, anything.  The ref whistles and they will run down the court with the ball long after the whistle has been blown, taking time away from the game to set back up.  They will not leave the court when time to sub out and they take the ball out of the hands of their teammates.  Neither boy seems even aware any one else at all, kids or adults.

Both boys are on the Autistic Spectrum.  I know this because yesterday I recognized one of them.

When I realized the boy was familiar I looked to the sidelines and sure enough, I saw his mother.  A very sweet lady I met at Lifestart, an early intervention service here in Australia that I took both Connor and Tessi to.  Tessi was in a group with this little boy.  I remember him well.  I walked over and started chatting to the mom and she remembered me and was excited to see me.  She was thrilled to hear that both my girls were in mainstream schools and elated to see her boy and Tessi reunited on the team.  She said that her son was doing well at St. Lucy's - a local private school for kids with special needs.  She went on and on about how she had been worried that he couldn't do basketball because he didn't know the rules but none of the kids knew them so it was ok, right?  She was so happy...her son...on a regular team.  The glee, relief and pride.  It was all there on her face.  The other little boy, another boy from Lifestart and from St. Lucy's.  They are friends.  Or at least they understand that they recognize each other and neither one yells when they hit each other.

How do I tell this proud mother that the other kids on the team and a few of the parents want her son beaten to a bloody pulp? Right now everyone just thinks they are ill-mannered, rude little monsters.  They have no idea that the boys have special needs. They don't know he has problems regulating his emotions and he has no idea about the differences between appropriate behavior and not.  He can't discern between being ok to take the ball from one kid but not the other.  He NEEDS to feel the contact of banging into people because it's how he keeps in sync with his surroundings.  Just the fact that he is able to participate in a mainstream game is bordering on miraculous.

Why am I in the middle?  Just announce to the other teammates that the boys need extra help or go to the mom and tell her that the parents are about to revolt?  It's not the simple.

My girls have always held a dubious place on the Autistic Spectrum.  Because they are mild when we would go to groups and therapies other people would look at us like we really shouldn't be there.  I used to comment that I felt we weren't Black enough for them.  Meaning that the other parents looked at each other with this, "This is our club, why is SHE here?"  No one was blatantly rude, but the condescension, ooph, that was present.  It would be supremely annoying to try and get help for our problems only to hear from other parents that they wished they had it so good.  Now my girls are in a mainstream school and can participate in some activities, but we all worked hard for that, it wasn't easy. It still isn't easy.

Now I feel like my girls are "passing" for normal.  I do not hide that they are Autistic, NEVER.  I say it upfront to parents when I feel they need to know.  If they don't need to know than I don't tell them.  Acting this way now has me feel like I'm with the cool kids looking down on the different kid.  And it shames me.

I don't want to be that person.  That parent that acts like they've forgotten what it's like when other kids stare at your kids and wonder what the Hell is wrong. That parent that doesn't remember getting glares from other parents with the, "Do you even know how to discipline your child" look.  I am always watchful for kids reactions to things and I try to act understanding until I find out the situation.  I remember every scornful look I've ever received.  Every glare, every pitiful look.  I have all the pictures I took of the girls to help make visual cue cards for them.  I can see every look of disappointment on Teddy's face when we said we couldn't' do some activity because the girls couldn't handle it. 

I haven't forgotten a God Damn thing.

But where is the balance?  Don't kids deserve to just play a game without being afraid of being pummeled for no reason?  Doesn't a child who has worked for YEARS deserve a chance to play a simple game?

I will talk to the mother.  I don't want her to be blindsided by people she doesn't know.  I will take my daughter's close friends parents aside and talk to them.  I don't know the answer.  I'm pretty sure it's one of those situations where someone is going to end up crying and it will be adult.  I'm positive I will be one of those adults but still not sure which side I'll be crying for.

Satan's To do List

So endeth one of worst parenting weeks of my life.  This past week reads like a diary Satan's to-do list.  I'm starting this off with a diet coke or tea spit take warning.  Not because I'm confidant in my humor but I suspect the sheer horror of the amount of Hell this week will be shocking.

Satan's Calendar of Events:

Monday - Ted and I drive the girls to piano and basketball, which is tricky since they both start at 5.  While in on our way I get a phone call telling me that Tessi's game has been moved to 5:45.  The mom offers for me to drop off Tessi to her and she'll take her so Ted and I can get to piano on time.  Great!  Never been to her house so I get her address 19 whateverthename and we drive straight there.  Only the house doesn't look right.  The gate is padlocked and there's a dog and I know they don't have a dog.  I can't call her back as her number was blocked.  So we turn around and race off to piano.  I start calling everyone I can think of who has her number and then I remembered that she too has an iPhone and email her to call me.  Turns out I'm an idiot and her house number is 99.  Ok, no problem, drop Connor off, head back and first house we find is 99A.  Then 99B.  Which is it?  I refuse to call again but we're in luck, one more house and we're at 99.  Also, I'm sporting a massive sinus headache and holding my head together with my fingers.

That night I went to the school P & C meeting which lasted to 10 because of arguing over parking 0 got to speak to the mayor.  WOOO HOO. and heated discussions about offering ethics classes in school. I ended up volunteering to help start up and run the class at our school.  WTH?  How did that happen?

Doesn't sound too bad right?  Just a little stuff up and run around.  Not really worth mentioning.

Tuesday - 5 minutes before we leave for school Teddy announces that his teacher can see me right after school. I've been trying to meet with her so while I wish I had more notice, I figure I'll make it work.  Now I'm taking my kids and 2 others to see the stupid Star Wars in 3 damn D movie at 4:20 so I race around getting snacks and dinner made for the kids to eat in the movie since I know I won't have time after school.  This is of course after I spend almost 2 hours in the car taking Teddy's cricket bat back to the store to turn it in to be repaired.  No biggie.  No problem, I don't mind.

Except when I get to school one mom asks if I could take her daughter too.  Yes I had offered but it was late notice and I had snacks and drinks for 5.  But no matter, will make it work.  I tell the kids to come up to top quad and not muck around while I meet with the teacher.  Only I get to the teacher's room and she's in another meeting.  See she sent a note home with Teddy which he never gave me.  He decided that I was too busy on Monday and without telling either of us scheduled the meeting for Tuesday.  Yes, there were words said about that to him.  None of them pretty.

Then at the movie.  Jesus God.  The 2 boys sat by them selves, the 4 girls off by themselves and me guarding the door.  The girls lost their ever loving mind.  Seriously GONE.  They spilled popcorn, soda and candy all over the floor.  Someone took marshmellows and ground them into the seats and stairs.  They ran up and down the isles.  They yelled and carried on disrupting the theatre.  After the movie Connor's glasses went flipping off into the seats and were GONE we held up the next showing 10 minutes trying to find them while the manager of the theater was yelling at me for the mess.  I yelled at the girls, "I once took 6 three year old boys to the movie and they behaved better than you!"  Then had to tell their mothers, who were in a state of shock that the girls did this. 

I took one my pretty colored pills, had some champers and went to bed at 7:00 that night.


Wednesday- I learned that I had messed up Teddy's chance to sit for the Selective High School Entrance exam.  Badly.  I had 2 days to get the principal of Teddy's school to agree to sign the appeal form, and I have to write a letter explaining why I'm a dumb ass and too stupid to read a website correctly.  Lovely.  While this is spinning in my head I head off to school to pick up kids, including an extra one and take the girls to gymnastics.  Only as I'm waiting for Teddy to show up Tessi and her friend ditch me.  They are gone.  So I have to walk around the school screaming their names to find them.  When I did find them they were playing hopscotch so I gave them Hell for leaving me.  As we're walking back Tessi's friend held onto her new wishing stone and said, "I wish Cecelia wouldn't be rude"  Yep.  And me being me, I LOST MY MIND.    So many tears later we end up at gymnastics, I tell her dad and he's horrified.  He hives her Hell and yes, more tears.

Didn't take pills but did drink a LOT of cheap french champers.  A LOT.  Again, in bed early.


Thursday - Am in serious funk.  I can not believe I've screwed up Teddy's chance at getting into selective school. I should mention also that it's the anniversary of my friend's suicide and I am feeling very down about that.  I can not believe such a sweet and nice girl I adore called me rude and then I get txt from her mother apologizing that my feelings were hurt and they would following up with her and her behavior.  I took this as Sonia was upset with me, thinking I keeping tabs on her parenting.  This led to some frantic texting and one long phone call to get us both on track again.  That's when I learned that her little girl thought the word rude mean cross or angry.  Sigh...I made a little girl cry because she wished I wouldn't be angry.  Any puppies around I can kick?

Race into school to learn that principal and Teddy's teacher are bending over backwards to help get application ready.  Serious effort people.  Really in awe of them.   Principal mentions that she's sorry but I'll have to drive app to dept. office.  When I agree she says, "Oh what a good mum!"  I just looked at her and said, "I've made 6 kids cry this week and only 3 were mine"  There was a giggle in the staff room and mutterings of offering me a job there.  As Ted said when I relayed the story, "Making kids cry is a feature, not a bug to teachers"


Friday - I drive the application to Bankstown.  Now if anyone in Sydney had any idea how to draw an accurate map this would not be a problem.  However since it seems to be a sick joke to make sure only the most convoluted, inaccurate pictures are displayed in maps here I drove around quite a bit. 

TIP to map makers! - It helps if the same name on a street in a map is the same one on the sign along the road.  Also building numbers being sequential is a plus.

I finally get there and deliver my package of pleading.  I wrote a very nice, "Yes, I am a dumb ass and you owe me nothing, but dear God PLEASE let him take the test" letter.  The lady who read the letter actually chortled a little bit.  That's fine, I would have prostrated myself on the floor in front of her chanting, "Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa" if it would have helped.  Something must have been good because they accepted the app and on Mar. 15th Teddy can fail the test to get into the schools!   At least this way his future is on him and not me.

So that was my week.  I don't know if there is any alcohol left in Dan Murphy's.  I'm spending part of today building some furniture.  It's an Ikea hack so not creative but will involve heavy duty glue and power tools so there's a real element of danger.  I'm going to spend some time tomorrow planning some goals for the week.

Goal #1 - Only make children I've given birth to cry.
Goal #2 - No more Star Wars 3 damn D movies
Goal #3 -  Take control of my schedule away from Satan and Teddy
Goal #4 - Stay up beyond 7:30 two nights this week.

Goals are important but it's a good idea not to set the bar too high.

Parenting Styles Differ

I'm not sure if it's an Aussie thing or just me.  I say that because one of the friends I'm thinking about is English.  See!  I was nice and didn't call her a Limey or a Pom, progress!!  That and she's a Helluva lot taller than me.  My point is that there isn't a consistency on parenting philosophies across a single plain.  It's all over the plain.  So I'm not sure if it's just not the American way of doing things or that everyone here is plotting to make me look like more of a hag than I really am to my kids.

When it comes to movies,  tv and video games and what parents let their kids watch or play I'm constantly astounded by the differences.  Teddy is 11 and despite my best efforts loves his shoot-em up, kill fuzzy bunny games and obnoxious humor.  In fact, when he first saw the cover for Portal 2 he immediately wrote it off because it didn't look like anything died.  Of course since one of his cool friends showed it to him it's one of his favorite games - but that's another post in and of itself.  Teddy loves his death and mayhem and this is with me nixing all the really cool Call of Duty, Halo, Modern Warfare and Skyrim games.  To soothe those needs he does what any decent kid does and goes behind my back to friend's houses with way cooler moms and plays them there.  Every couple of months or so I make him stop and say in front of witnesses, "Yes, I understand that killing human beings is wrong.  There are better ways of solving problems than blowing people or zombies heads off and the saying is not 'Speak Softly and carry a large AK-47'"  That way I can safely testify in court that I had reasonable assurances that he would not go postal and start shooting people from the top of the Sydney Opera House some day. 

Don't judge me.  You take what you can get.

When it comes to movies there are a whole slew of awesome movies I haven't let him see it. 

1. A Fish Called Wanda
2. Blazing Saddles
3. Kevin Smith movies
4. Animal House
5. Any of the Jason/Chuckie/Freddy Krueger genre
6. Any Monty Python movies -tv shows are ok.
7. Elvis Movies

Sorry about that last one but on the grounds that those movies are complete suckfests I'm not poisoning his mind by showing them.

Music-I let him hear some swearing.  Yes, I DID put Monty Python Sings on his iPod.  I have since come to regret that as Teddy has accidentally taught Connor the first verse to "Sit on My Face"   But there just some very cool music out there that it's just criminal not to listen to.  I have drawn the line at the South Park Movie soundtrack.  I REALLY don't need him to accidentally teach Tessi the Uncle song.  I will have to physically kill him.


But with my friends and their kids, some have no trouble at all with the hard core games but balk at swearing.  Some completely cut out everything even slightly violent but then have Mel Brooks and Monty Python movie nights. 

Back in Texas I was the shocking one.  I said damn a lot and WOW I got some looks from some people.  Double entendres are the bread and butter of my humor and 8 outta 10 times the second meaning is going to be obscene or insulting.  I live and breathe to annoy and piss people off...I leave that to Ted...but if I'm honest, it does amuse the Hell out me most times.

But here in Australia?  I've learned that many times I'm the prude of the room.  Which let me tell you, is a wee bit shocking.  I know for a fact my name is on at least 3 different prayer lists praying that God doesn't just smite my ass for the things I say.  That's for just what I say...I actually do censor myself sometimes.  Back home I know people that have their kids only watch Veggie Tales (no, I'm not knocking the show, I just think more than one show is a good thing, Backyardigans rocked!) but here?  I'm overprotective because I voiced an objection because Teddy was shown a British tv show called Bottom and yes, it was everything you'd ever think a British tv show called Bottom would be.

Teddy has seen more movies and shows that I never would have even thought to let a kid watch and it's by people who are way more moral than I am.  It's odd to see.  I remember showing 2 of my girlfriends the movie Dogma.  I warned them ahead of time that it was very controversial in the States and some scenes were really shocking.  At the end of the movie both turned to me and asked what was shocking?  Really?  What was controversial about DOGMA?  Gee, I don't know.  But nope, didn't notice anything.  Same friend let her young daughter watch the first season of True Blood, just covering her eyes during the more risque themes.   She said no to the second season because that got a little intense.   I heavily screen Teddy's viewing of The Big Bang Theory because while it does have the best writing on tv ever, there are still some phrases I don't want him learning while sitting next to me on the couch.  He needs to go out and learn it from his buddies like a decent person.

I just typed the sentence Connor and Tessi are easier to manage but then I had to delete it.  I banned the Disney Channel for everything except Phineas and Ferb because they were getting interested in all the pre-teen and teen shows.  Banned because of constant message of sdults are idiots, best way to get what you want is go around their backs, lie to get your way and yes, you deserve all the latest and greatest.  Whatever.  They come with those traits built in, I've spent their childhood trying to wring it out of their necks, I sure as hell don't have to let them watch and get instructions on how to keep doing it.  Nickelodeon is on my radar too.  That damn iCarly....

So is it a cultural thing or am I prudish control freak?  I'm really not a prude.....the rest....no comment.

Cricket is No Longer a Bug

Alright, yes it is bug still but in my mind it's no longer JUST a bug.  Teddy has been selected for his school's Rep Cricket team as the wickie.  Also known as the wicket keeper.  Which is sort of like a catcher.  Sort of.  Today I drove him and his mates to the field so they could play another school.  He has a large kit bag for his stuff and then tonight he has cricket training for his team for the local club.

What the Hell is this nonsense?  MY son plays cricket?  We're Americans for Chrissake!  We play football and baseball and basketball and hit things hard and laugh outrageously loud.  Ted is a massive Minnesota Vikings groupie, I adore my Steelers.  Ted's dad is a Giants worshipper and has even raced stock cars and the latest generation of Tencza dresses in all white to stand around for days and cheering when the bowler ALMOST gets someone out?  Wha??

When we first moved to Australia Teddy tried to play baseball but it was hopeless.  In Year 1 they were still playing t-ball.  Just plain silly.  Plus all of Teddy's friends played cricket so the following year he wanted to try it and was hooked.  So now we go to cricket games and think, "Oh wow, it's a short game today, only 4 hours"

But people go for the day, even days to see these cricket games.  Aussies love their cricket.  The weird rules - you can run if you don't hit the ball, they stop game for tea breaks, and the team captain is supposed to turn in his own teammates for unsportsmanlike like conduct, all of it, they love it.  Even the 2 or 3 Australians who don't like sports know about cricket.  Ask ANYONE about Don Bradman, and you'll be gently reminded that it's SIR Don Bradman. 

So here we are, Americans living in Australia and our oldest child plays cricket.  5 years ago I heard the word I thought of a chirping insect and now I think of an entire day sitting outside watching paint dry.  At least I can bring my iPod.

The day I can watch without getting pissed that he's wearing all white and rolling around in the mud that's when I know I'm Australian.

Interesting Habits of Wildlife in Australia or Why I Now Use Baileys as Cream in My Tea

My morning began as most do in my house.  I opened my eyes and immediately grabbed the precious - my iPhone, and began checking news, weather and of course, Facebook.  I know, I have a slight addiction problem.  I really don't care.  The girls came barging in to rat each other out, cry about having wake up, complain about the global economy....actually not sure about the last one, to be honest I stopped listening about 30 seconds into the melee.  I shooed them out so I could get dressed.  About 15 seconds later Connor came running in, "Mommy, do you know the tall curtains we have downstairs?"  Yes Connor, I've heard of them.  "Well, um, well, there's a mouse on top of them!"  O-kay.  Quite honestly, I was not expecting that.  But then again, I couldn't say it was impossible.

So I throw on my shirt, and head down the steps.  We get halfway down the steps and Connor starts screaming, "See, See, See!!!"  Well, no.  I don't.  I bend down and peer over the railing and look about 15 feet away and damn it all, there it is.  The Australian Hopping Mouse.  It's about the size of an American Field Mouse only it has bigger ears and it hops like a kangaroo.  Only it has a problem.  It's on top of the curtain rod located near the top of our extremely high ceiling.  I think about 14 feet. 

Of course Connor is the one that sees it. I would have come downstairs and missed the little bastard completely.  But not Connor.  Nooooo.  She saw it because there was Monty sitting on the floor staring up at it.  Monty must have brought it in to play with and it got the best of him and ran up the curtains.

Ok.  So now I have a problem. 

1. I have a damn live mouse stuck inside my house.
2. It's waaaaayyy up high and no real way to get to it.
3. Ted has already left for work.
4. Connor is starting to slowly become unglued and turning into Sybil.
5. I have not had any tea

Right.  I called Ted on the train for suggestions.  Captain Genius suggests throwing cat at mouse.  I was actually glad that he then went through a tunnel so it cut off the stream of profanities I vomited at him.  Note to self: come up with alternative meanings for words for Tessi.  So I get Teddy up and ask him if he had any ideas.  Poor kid, he also needed tea and needed a few minutes to figure out his name and what the Hell I was talking about.  He offered to go up the ladder and try and get it.  Now, before the good mothers of the world start crying fowl at me sending my child to face the demon, bite me.  Go ahead, call me names, turn me in.  I don't care.  It was him or me and I chose him.  He offered.  It wasn't coerced.

The next twenty minutes was quite possibly the most calamitous of not only my life but I dare say, most peoples lives. 

I get the ladder and Teddy and I begin the process of unfolding it.  It's one of those 600 different position ladders and the two of us, plus Tessi "helping" we finally get it set up to have Teddy get the mouse.  Teddy starts to climb towards Mickey and then Connor bellows, 'KOOKABURRA!!!!"  I start looking around the living room because I'm sure it's come in too.  But no.  She's pointing out the window.  So Teddy, Tessi and I, like the lemmings we are stop, turn and walk towards the window.  Sure enough, there's a Kookaburra outside.  It takes me a full 20 seconds before I realize, "Jesus, we LIVE here, we see Kookaburras all the time!  We have to get the mouse!!"  Back at the task at hand.

Mice, no matter what continent they are from, do NOT like having strange people try to pick them up.  This mouse started running back and forth along the curtain rod squealing it's head off.  At one point he slipped and fell down a bit onto the upper window sill and Teddy (I helped!! I herded it with a long pole) was able to coax it onto his hand and he started the climb down the ladder to take it outside.  Sadly though, the mouse decided to bite Teddy (no broken skin) and then Teddy yelling, flinging the mouse back onto the curtain and the bastard scurried back up to the top.

I've sent the girls out of the room to damper the sound of the screaming, Monty is running back and forth trying to glare the mouse to death, Sasha starts barking at a neighbor walking down the street and that's when I noticed that Teddy's new Siamese Fighting Fish wasn't moving.  I run over, "Oh Christ, no!!  Don't' be dead!!!!"  Then Teddy comes over, "He's not dead, I taught him to do that"  What?  I look back, the damn fish wiggles 1 fin....twice.  Then stops.  Then the other fin...twice again.  Then he starts moving for real.  What. the. Hell. Never mind, I've got Mickey running around 14 feet above my head.
This is when we learned about the hopping.

The mouse began running along the curtain rods, and then hopped between them.  All four.  Back and forth. Speedy Gonzalez here is racing along the rods and when he gets to the end he hops to the wall, bouncing off onto the next rod.  It was like watching those people in LA who spend time bouncing off of walls to climb up buildings.  He's running and hopping and squealing, did I mention the squealing?

I get the super long broom and head towards the window and that's when I noticed that Damn Dog has peed on the floor.  For the first time in my life, that was not the most horrifying thing in my immediate area.  So I race to the window, Teddy has repositioned the ladder, has climbed up, catch reach so I put the broom by the mouse just to stop him from running.  Speedy smacks into the broom, falls off onto my sewing machine and stops cold.  I fling open the sliding doors and put on my best Dave Winfield stance and swing for the cheap seats.  I moved him 2 feet but at least he's by the door.  Teddy pops him outside and chases him out into the bush.

Connor comes out of hiding, "Yea!! We got the mouse!"

I looked at her, didn't say a word and went into the kitchen and poured my tea.

I'll admit it.  After I took the kids to school I went to the shops and bought champers and a tub of chocolate frosting.  Judge all you want.  I'll be sitting in the corner and blinking a lot.

Living in the Twilight Zone

Anyone remember the remake of the Twilight Zone tv show?  It was done in the late 80's or early 90's, I can't remember for sure.  The was one episode about a man going about his life and he suddenly hears a word he doesn't understand.  Everyone else around him understands it but him.  It's total gibberish.  Then there are 2 words that are gibberish.  Everyone around him starts to look at him like he's a nutter.

He starts running around frantically trying to get someone to understand him and then of course it ends up that he understands nothing and they lock him away in the nuthouse.  It's a sad and depressing look into the mind of insanity.

I bet that story was written by a someone who has kids.

I shouldn't say that.  Not just kids.  I mean, yes it is the kids but it's also other people too.  At least today anyway.  Today is just one of THOSE days that every chance I've had to interact with some they've either completely ignored me, misunderstood everything I had to say or I don't know, couldn't deal with me.  The kids, well Hell, that's everyday with them.  Hardly worth mentioning.  But the adults around me Hoo Boy.  Makes me a little nervous though as I sent off 3 letters to schools teachers today with the kids.  Now that I know that I am incapable of communicating my thoughts in a rational day I'm wondering if I'm going to have to go pick up expelled children at 3:00.

Sadly, this happens a lot to me.  When I moved to Australia I could chalk it up to language and custom barrier.  We've been here almost 5 years and  I know what chuffed, nutter, struth and blimey mean now.  I don't think that's it.  If I was brimming with self confidence I think I'd say that my mind was running faster than my mouth.  If I was being the Ugly American I'd say that Aussies just need to learn how I speak.  If I'm being honest...well I dunno.

So as any reasonable person would do...and since I'm the most reasonable person I've dealt with today I will go with my suggestion, I am embracing the madness.  Go ahead, hear the words coming out of my mouth and feel free to do the opposite.  I am going to pretend you're doing it my way anyway.  When I pick up the kids today I will tell them to do the opposite of what I want in hopes that they will either be so confused they be stunned into silence (HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA, damn that was a good one) or else they will do the opposite just to spite me.

Dan Murphys, the world's greatest liquor store is open until 9.  That is my mantra.

And like the man in Twilight Zone I will just keep on going until lock my gorstrsap324 up in solitary confinement.

A dabbler in Everything but a Master of Nothing

Ok, that's a little harsh.  It's true but it's harsh.  I have a lot of varied interests.  Some may call me psychotic with a limited ability to commit whereas I like to think of myself as being diversified.

Not in any particular order this are the hobby's and interests right that are floating my boat.

1. Sewing.  Yep, I really love it.  I love to get fabric and pick out patterns and I love to sit at the machine and go.  I swear like Hell almost the entire time I'm sewing but when I'm done, I really feel good.  Feeling good isn't one of my strong points so when it happens man!  It's like suddenly losing 20 pounds, finding a fifty dollar note and your favorite shoe store has a buy 1 get 2 free pair sale.  Sooooo, not that often.  But the feeling I get when I've made something, it works for me.
2. Hair Bow.  I can make hair bows for the girls.  Not the simple single loop with a tie in the middle but good super spiffy cheerleader sorority girls in beauty pagent bows.  It's an awesome task and again I swear a lot during the process but when it's done it's a great feeling.  Sadly, these bows aren't all that popular here in Australia.  The phrase bow heads means nothing here.  I think Aussies get a little put off sometimes when you try to bring in something from your homeland.  But I will keep trying.
3. Woodworking.  I started following this blog: www.ana-white.com last year and love it.  I've built a bookcase shelf thing for my bathroom and some storage stuff.  I desperately need a new bed for Ted and I and I have the plans to build a fantastic one.  A bed with storage and a solid headboard that isn't wiggling and wobbling all over the place.  Plus I have an idea for a kitchen table that has built in storage.  When I'm out in the shed I feel like I'm accomplishing something real.  Something tangible that will be around.  Not like when I'm cooking dinner that I know everyone will hate and 60% of the table won't eat at all.
4. Computers.  Not the IT web design and coding.  That's insane tech crap to me.  Reading 100's of lines of code to see where a T should have been capitalized?  Whatever.  Glad that there are folk who can do that (my husband Ted by the way-a little too awesome, it's scary sometimes what he knows) but I'm even more grateful that I'm not one of the ones doing it.  No my computing interest is in the gadgets and seeing what will work and how it works.  I love using the computer to download music, movies and such.  All legal of course.  I love having a question about something and then diving onto the Net and traveling through time and space to find the answer.  Yes, I have a smart phone.  Yes, I'll kill anyone who gets between it and me.

Now of course these are not all interests that go together.  Well, maybe the sewing and bows but there rest are right in the middle of left field.  Also Enjoying this things is NOT simpatico with ferrying kids to school, cricket, piano and gymnastics.  It is the polar opposite of doing laundry, grocery shopping, cooking dinner, gardening, paying bills, planning events with school and friends and well...general every other aspect of my life.

Today I need to take down 3 loads of hanging laundry.  Put up another 2 at least, plan dinner, clean up the kitchen, finish cleaning out pantry, put laundry away, go to school, pick up one child - other 2 are going to friends house, drive home,feed child snack drive back out and pick up other 2, go to piano lesson, during lesson drive over to basketball place and see if there is an opening for Tessi, drive back to piano lesson, pick up Connor and drive home.  Then make dinner.  Argue at kids for not eating dinner.  I will collapse on couch and Saint Ted will get girls to bed, then Teddy will pout and go to bed and then I will either sit and chat with Ted or just go upstairs and pass out.

See why the playing on the computer is soooooooooo appealing?  Yea, I know.  I'm going, I'm going.  Maybe I can start working on the bed tomorrow.

Problem or Not

An old dear friend contacted me the other day because she was concerned about her son.  He's quite young and his teacher mentioned that she was concerned he was on the Spectrum.  I was happy to talk to her because well, I feel I have to.  I knew nothing when we started on our journey and if I could help her in any way then by God, I would.  After a few rounds of email it seems in my ever humble opinion, that the carer is really pulling this out of her butt.  That being said, a major carer has raised a concern and I believe that should be respected so my friend is taking her little one to the dr.

That really has gotten me to thinking.  Which is of course good and inherently dangerous.  Where is the line drawn between whinning about every possible thing a toddler does and being aggressive and advocating for your child's care?

Autism is in the news almost daily now.  That is a good thing.  It is.  So many children have just been labeled mentally retarded, slow, dim-witted or the all-encompassing, "Bad" yet they have managable issues.  When we got our diagnosis I was stunned by the  dozens of  indicators Autism mentioned because I thought they were normal toddler pain in the ass things.  Tantrumming, refusal to eat, inability to share, difficulty grasping pencils and scissors.  The scissors question used to crack me up.  At 17 and 18 months for Connor and Tessi I was asked if they could use scissors correctly.  I responded the same way every time, "How the Hell would I know?  You think I'm stupid enough to let them hold scissors?"  But all of this was very important but in levels and degrees.  All kids throw hissy fits.  That's normal.  Throwing a hissy fit for hours is not.  Refusing to eat is normal.  Eating things only of one type of texture (all puddings or creams, or nothing cold) is not.  Not sharing toys is normal.  Not understanding that there are other creatures in the room who are just like you is not.

But none of this is instinctual!  June Cleaver woudn't have had the first buggering clue what to do if the Beav was Autistic.  Who the Hell knows if a behavior is normal or excessive?  For Christ's sake, at that time I had 3 children under the age of 7, the last two were 13 months apart, my husband was working 12 hour days and we had just moved 5 hours away from our family and friends.  The first 2 years of Tessi's life are an absolute blur.  That's with the normal stuff.  Throw in diagnosing 2 toddlers with Autism and well....I honestly didn't know my ass from a hole in the ground.

Knowing what I went through I usually explode into unprintable obscenities when I hear some jackass complain about all the Autism and kids were allowed be kids when we were young and the best one....the kid would be fine if you'd just discipline them.  That one...ooooh, I've got a few stories about dealing with assholes who were dumb enough to say that in front of me.  Just me people, if there was anyone in the planet who wanted to be able to solve my girls problems with a couple whacks on the bottom and a few more time outs, it was me.  Listening to these people pontificate about the demise of society because so many kids were being labeled Autistic as if it's such a great club to be included in.  "Ooooh, see Lauren!  Her son just got his dsm iv criteria met!  He's on the Spectrum! Wow, can you imagine the celebrating tonight?  There won't be a goat safe for miles!!  Damn, I wish I could get one for my kid!"  Yeah, what-freakin-ever.  You can have mine.  We have two.

No one just goes out and gets a diagnosis.  No, no, no.  Your loser neighbor who sits all day watching her stories and hasn't seen the inside of her kitchen for a year and her kids run around beating animals with sticks does not count.  She didn't get a diagnosis.  She watched Jerry Springer or Montel and heard the fancy word and is using it.  You know how you can tell?  'Cause she hasn't been asking you and everyone else, "Something just seems odd, I can't put my finger on it.  Did your child do "name weird behavior" or you mean your child doesn't sit and bang his head over and over"  Those people are jumping on bandwagons.  They aren't ever caught crying because their kids has been kicking them in the leg for 4 hours no matter what you do to stop them.  And you know what, for every 1 of them there are 50 at least, real cases of Austism.  You can't call your dr and ask for a refill of your blood pressure meds and oh, by the way, can I get you to type a letter saying Miss Thang is on the Autistic Spectrum."  It's months of appointments with several EXPENSIVE therapists, drs and clinicians before you get that bad boy.  So if you're hearing about a kid going through treatment for Spectrum related issues - they freakin need it.

However, if I'm honest, there is another side.  The side my friend presented to me.  Her child's teacher raised a concern that he might be on the Spectrum.  He's a loner.    He's still engaged in Parallel Play.  That's really it.  Really?  This gets a conference with a parent?  A 2-year old prefers to play alone at school rather than with friends?  He has excellent, developing speech, he sits and plays longer than 30 seconds, he interacts with his twin sister very well and does communicate with the teachers and his parents.  THIS?

What?  As my friend was describing the symptoms all I could do was compare mine at the same age.  Speech?  Connor maxed out at 5 words and then lost all but 1 of them.  Connor and Tessi both could have someone call their names from 2 feet away and they would ignore them.  Tantrums?  Christ....Tessi would follow me from room to room so she could kick me.

But what is my friend to do?  Go to the dr.  Yes, I know.  I don't think the boy is in danger either.  But then again, I avoided med school like the plague.  A person responsible for providing a large amount of his care has raised a concern.  I'll willing to bet money it's pointless, but so my friend can sleep at night without wondering if she's done enough I say go to the dr.

Sadly, with Autism it's really better to have people a bit jumpy and examining the absurd.  If the hairs are prickling on the back of your neck...then go.  Don't say, "I think my child has Autism"  Say, "Something is strange.  I don't know what."  If your dr laughs at your or tells you to unclench, then you are at the wrong dr.  You can get a free evaluation from ECI - Early Childhood Intervention in the US.  In Australia you can get a gp referral to an evaluation center.  The closet one to me is in Chatswood, but they are all over.

Get it checked out.  THEN we can come up with jokes about what the hell was the teacher thinking.