Nice try, kid!

We have a great new babysitter, Amy, that has come into our life recently, as I needed some extra help in my post-surgical recovery period.  We all like her a lot, and she has now become one of our regular sometime sitters.

Amy is a graduate student: smart, cute, petite, 22, cute. 

Have I mentioned she is really cute?

As she only sits from time to time, and was mostly working afternoons to help out with Jacob when I was just out of my surgery and could not care for him at all physically, she had never put Ethan to bed.

Well, there's a first time for everything.

The other night my husband and I actually went out in the evening, a rather rare occurrence.  We braved the latest snowstorm to hear the wonderful Peggy Orenstein read from her marvelous new book, Cinderella Ate My Daughter, at our local bookstore.

(Full disclosure: Peggy is a facebook & twitter friend of mine, and has a "professional relationship" with my husband, having interviewed and quoted him in an article of hers on female superheros.)

Since we were actually already out of the house, alone & together, my husband and I decided to make a "real date" of it and have dinner out at a local diner before heading home.

This meant that Amy got to put Ethan to bed, and on this particular night he really needed a shower.

When we got home, we got this report from her:

Ethan in the bathroom, naked, about to get into the shower: “Amy, you have to take your clothes off, too.”

Amy: distractedly “Um, what?”

Ethan: “Amy, you have to take your clothes off.”

Amy: “WHAT? No.”

Ethan: “Yes, it’s the house rule. When I take a bath or shower and take my clothes off? You have to take your clothes off, too.”

Amy “Uh, no, I really don’t think so, kid… Why do you think I have to take off my clothes?”

Ethan: ”Well… I’ve never seen a naked woman before.”

(Have I mentioned she is really cute?)

Amy: “And you’re not going to see one tonight.  Now, get in the shower.”

Nice try, kid!

(And thank goodness Amy has a really good sense of humor.)

(And yes, Ethan and I had ourselves a little chat about concepts like "appropriate" and "respectful."  And yes I worked very hard to suppress my smirk during said conversation.)

This post was based on the prompt “Describe the last thing that made you laugh really hard.” from Mama Kat’s writers workshop.

Vote for me yet today?  One click is all you need to show me your love!

Show me the Love

OK, I am usually pretty Zen here at The Squashed Bologna.

Read me, don't read me, pffffft.  (Are you hearing the ancient wise turtle's voice from Kung Fu Panda here?  Good, we're in synch.)

But I'm going to break form today.

Today I am shamelessly shilling for some bloggy-love.  Begging for your vote.  Asking to be nominated.  Self-promoting away.

There are 3 places I need you to show me some love.  Two take just a little clicking, the third involves some typing, or copy-and-pasting (I'll try to make it as painless as possible for you).

But also?  If you're not into all this, just not a direction follower, wouldn't click or submit even if it earned you a million dollars (no, this won't)? 

That's OK.  That funny little story at the end of this post to reward everyone for getting through all this drivel?  It's there for you, too.

Vote for me, don't vote for me, pffffft.  I still love you.

First, see that little button on my right hand column near the top?  The one flashing (cringe) "Top Mommy Blogs.com" alternating with "The Most -Popular- Mom Blogs on the Web!"  Yeah that one.

Having trouble finding it?  OK, I'll paste it in here, too:

Now, click on it.  Even better, RIGHT click on it (or "control" + click if you're Mac like me) and open it in a separate tab or window so you can still keep reading me here too, at the same time.

Once you're there, find my little niche "Special Needs" in the far right hand column "Categories" list and click on THAT.

Now find me on the Special Needs blog list (back on the left) & click on my blog title.  (I know, I know, I need a button.  Want to make me one?)  That will bring you back home to me, here.

That wasn't too hard, right?

The cool part?  You can vote for me there every day, once a day.  So if you feel like doing it again tomorrow?  Terrific.

If not?  Pfffft, whatever.  I still love you.  Zen.

Next?  I'm taking you over to Babble.  A very cool, very BIG Mom Blogger site.  My new friend Ceridwen writes for them, and she's awesome.

They've already made their "2010 Top 50 Mom Blogs" list, and no, I ain't on there (get real, people). BUT, they are also asking for nominations and votes for the rest of us: the little guys, the also-rans.

And that's where your part comes in.  I have been nominated.  Now, all you have to do is find me there and click on a "like" button.  That's it.  Easy peasey.  Let's go...

Click HERE to go to Babble's nomination page:

Now let's find me, The Squashed Bologna.  First click on the alphabetical tab, then go to the "T"s.  As of this morning I was number 516 alphabetically, on page 11, but that could change.  (Annoying: you first have to click on page 9 to get to the higher numbers, I trust you can figure this one out.)

Now (here's the easy part): click on the thumbs-up "I like this blogger" button.  (You do like me, right?)

DONE!

OK, now, here's the last part (or you can just skip to the funny story at the end if you're exhausted by now, really I won't take offense):

The 2011 Bloggies

There's this thing, the Eleventh Annual Weblog Awards, known around the inter-webs as "The Bloggies."  They're kind of a big deal in the blogging community.  I have less than a snowball's chance in hell of winning one, but it would be nice to be nominated.

So I would love for you to nominate me.  You have until January 16th to do this.

The cool part?  You only have to do this once.  Promise.  (If you do it twice, it cancels your first one.)

Here's how this one works:  You go to the nomination website, here.

First:  READ THE RULES

As they say, you can nominate a blog in any and all categories for which it is appropriate (multiple categories OK).

So for me, may I suggest (in order of appearance on the form):

Best Parenting Weblog
Best Writing of a Weblog
Best-Kept Secret Weblog
Best New Weblog
Weblog of the Year

but definitely NOT

Best Food Weblog

(not that kind of Bologna, remember?)

You fill in the nominee's blog name and blog URL. These are the correct ones for me (you can copy and paste them):

Nominee: The Squashed Bologna   URL: http://www.squashedmom.com

And this is how it looks on the ballot:

Now, here's the catch, and this part is VERY important:

According to the rules, you cannot just nominate me, you MUST nominate at least three (3) blogs altogether, and they can be in any categories on the ballot.  So besides The Squashed Bologna?  You must pick at least two other blogs to nominate.

If you're a blogger or blog reader, this will be a cake-walk. I'm sure you're already planning on how to fill up the ballot.

But if you're not?  If mine is the only blog you read?  May I suggest three wonderful other blogs that fall into the "Best Group or Community Weblog" category.  I am a member of all of these, and they are quite worthy of praise and support.  Here's their info:

Nominee: Hopeful Parents  URL: http://www.hopefulparents.org
Nominee: Band Back Together  URL: http://www.bandbacktogether.com
Nominee: The Red Dress Club URL: http://thereddressclub.blogspot.com

And how the ballot looks filled in:  

Finally, you need to fill in your e-mail address at the very bottom, here, and then "Submit":

And then, when the Bloggies send you a validation e-mail?  For goodness sakes, please click the link inside it to make it so!

You are now done.  Thank you!

I know that was a bit of work, and I really appreciate all those of you who have gone the distance with me, here.  I'm certainly not the biggest or most popular blog out there, but I know I have some loyal readers, and it just feels good to get that jolt of validation now and then; gives me the juice to keep on writing.

Maybe this will help me to get a little more noticed.  Because if I can get a bigger readership?  Find a way to make some money from my writing?  My whole family will benefit greatly.  If I have to go out into the world to get a "real" job that requires me to be absent from home for large blocks of time, I know my kids in general and Jake in particular will pay a price.

OK, I promised you a cute story if you stuck with me through to the bitter end, and here it is:

The other day, Jacob's wonderful ABA therapist, Becca, had a late session with him that was overlapping his dinner time.  Jake was hungry, had finished all his homework, and so Becca sat with him while he ate.  They were practicing the fine art of dinner-table conversation.

These days, Jacob tends to go on and on about movies he has seen advertisements and trailers for, reciting their names and talking about their future opening dates.  And, Jake being Jake, his conversational forays tend to take the form of questions: "Can we go see Rio? Opening on April 15th, Mommy?" (He's got our weekend entertainment planned out through early summer.)

But wise Becca has found a way to steer the conversation away from movies, and they are actually discussing... his actual dinner.  And I get to overhear this gem:

Jake is holding a piece of (GF/CF organic chicken-apple) sausage aloft on his fork, studying it.

Becca:  "What is that, Jacob?"

Jake:  "Mr. Sausage."

Becca:  "What does Mr. Sausage say?"

Jake (glint in his eye, doing a funny little voice):  "Don't eat me!"

Followed by... CHOMP!  And laughter.  My son, the merciless sausage devourer.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again:

Anyone who thinks people on the spectrum have no sense of humor can go suck an egg.  They have clearly never met my son, Jacob, who IS da bomb.


Looking for Comments? I still haven't fixed my "Intense Debate disappearing comment link on home page problem" yet, so if you are viewing this on my home page and want to read my comments or make one of your own, click on the post's title to bring you to the post's page view. Voila!   Still don't see them? Is your browser's pop-up filter set too high? (Hopefully this will get fixed soon - sorry!)

Happy New Year (from George, Christopher, Gracie and Jake)

Happy New Year, everyone!!!!

2010 bit our butts big time.

(Was reminded of just how much when I combed through the year for my 2010 "best of" wrap-up post)

(Would everybody please just stop dying, already?)

Here's to a terrific 2011 for one and all!

(Raising my virtual glass of champagne to clink with you all.)

(And as long as it's virtual? Make it Pol Roget Cuvée Sir Winston Churchill, please.)

(In actuality, we had Martinelli Sparkling Cider.)

(And it was just me and the husband playing Monopoly with a very hyper, over-tired Ethan at the stroke of midnight.  Jake had fallen dead asleep on the rocking chair at 10 PM, and I'd been able to sleep-walk him to bed.)

(Ethan was winning, of course.)

(And all sugared up.)

(It was so very fun to put him to bed at 12:30.)

(The words "please, darling, just shut up and go to sleep" might have crossed my lips at about 12:55)

(But I would never say that, so it must have been more like: "If you don't stop giggling and calling me George, you will lose all screen time for the rest of the weekend.  I love you, now go to sleep.")

(I might have told him if he continued to call me "George" and his father "Christopher" I was going to start calling him "Gracie."  This might have been unwise, as it provoked yet another giggling fit, even though the reference was lost on him.)

(Ethan is going through a bit of a "class clown" phase.  Please let it just be a phase.)

(Ethan, balancing on the knife edge of funny/annoying ALWAYS pushes it too far and tips into pure annoyance.)

(He finally fell asleep.)

(If Jacob wakes him up early - as he inevitably does - Ethan is going to be just so much *fun* in the morning.)

(Sigh)

Say Goodnight, Gracie.

Goodnight.

And Happy New Year, my friends, Happy New Year to you all.


Looking for Comments? I still haven't fixed my "Intense Debate disappearing comment link on home page problem" yet, so if you are viewing this on my home page and want to read my comments or make one of your own, click on the post's title to bring you to the post's page view. Voila!

Getting Hip with the (SN Blog) Hop

Last Thursday was Thanksgiving (hope you had a lovely one, we got through ours, so that's a win), so the Special Needs Blog Hop took the day off, and now we're back, and hipper than ever.  Or, if you're like me, the turkey and all the trimmings (pie, mmmm... pie) has added some to the dimension of your hips.

Anyway, here we go again....

THIS WEEKS THEME:
This week it’s about turning all the frustrations and negativeness into something positive. What is a recent accomplishment that your child has made?

I can do this!  Because Jacob, even when I'm feeling stuck in the middle of all the fears and frustrations about him, is always full of all kinds of awesome and wonderful. 

OK, here's one... although to many this may sound more like a problem, believe me, it's an accomplishment:

Jacob had started to verbally protest the things he doesn't like in his life.  A  lot.  He has become the king of "No." 

He knows what he wants and doesn't want, and wants US to know it too.  Even when he goes along, he does so under protest. 

Why is this good?  If, like me until recently, you have had a kid on the spectrum who has been too compliant, too unnaturally "good" for his age, you know what I'm talking about, here.

Sweetness and good nature are fine.  But an eight year old who meekly goes along with everything they are asked to do, or who shows his displeasure by getting all spacey/sleepy and shutting down?  Not so good.  In fact, highly untypical.

I should know.  Jake has a twin.  A spunky, opinionated, adorably obstinate, wise-ass twin.  Jake is becoming more like him, in this regard, at last.  God help me.

This has been brewing for a while.  I have written about it before.  But these days?  The spunk is front and center.  So I thought I'd celebrate it here, as an accomplishment.  Because it is one.  Not the most convenient and pleasant development for me, but important for him.  And that's what counts, right?

And also?  Sometimes?  It can be entertaining, when I remember to keep my sense of humor intact.

Jake had me cracking up today.  Once again, he did NOT want to do his homework.  Who wants to do homework?  Not me!  Not his (sort of) typical brother, Ethan, either.  All I have to do is say "Homework Wars" to my mom friends and they all groan in sympathy.

So when Jake gets home and I say: "Homework time, Jake" he says: "No, no homework, Mommy!" and also: "I don't like homework."

Which I acknowledge is his prerogative.   He may protest as much as he wants, can tell me how much he hates it.  But we're still doing homework.

"You are a student.  Doing homework is part of your job, Jake.  Time to do your job."  In spite of his new found spunk, Jacob is still, at heart, a sweet and compliant boy.  So when he sees that, all desire to the contrary, he is not in charge and that homework must be done, he comes to sit at the table, picks up his pencil.

I give him a choice of starting with the math sheet or the writing.  He chooses math, and settles in, I *think* peacefully.  Sure enough, he marches through the problems like a trooper.  But *NOT* like a good soldier.

As always, he narrates the process out loud as he does the math, but this time with a little creativity:

"Seven plus five is... twelve. NO!"

"Four plus four is eight. NO!"

"Fifteen minus nine is... six. NO!"

And so it went.

Yes, a whole page of math problems, punctuated with a loud "NO!" after each correct answer.   Protest duly noted, we went on to the writing sheet.

"What is the dog in the picture doing, Jake?"

"Playing with the boy. NO!"

"OK, write that down.  But let's skip the 'No' part.  OK, honey?"

"Yes. NO!"

It's going to be a long, long evening.

(You go, Jake!)


That's our story.  Now, you jump in & have fun:

Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Poopyhead

Anyone who says autistic kids have no sense of humor has clearly never met my son, Jacob.  That’s the danger in making generalizations about autism. As the old saying goes: if you've met one kid with autism... you’ve met one kid with autism.  

Jacob right now is in an awkward phase of wanting to relate all the time but having no sense whatever for what are appropriate and inappropriate ways to connect. He has no innate inner compass  to guide him, and taking lessons from his often highly inappropriate twin brother Ethan is, shall we say, problematic.  

A while back Ethan taught Jake to say "poopy-head" which is why when Ethan comes to me complaining that Jacob is sing-songing the phrase "Ethan is a poopy-head, we like you very muuuch" over and over, I tell him: "You're not getting much sympathy from me on this one, kid. You taught him that lovely term, so it's you own damn fault."  

And no, I don't actually say "damn" to my kid. I just think it very loudly. 

And then I tell Jake to stop it, that it's not OK to tease, that that is NOT a nice word to use.  So "poopy-head" goes underground for a while, but you never know when it's going to surface again.

Last night Jake got to bed late, even later than usual for a non-school night. We listened to the radio during his bath because Jacob has a great love of music and seems to not mind his mother's off-key crooning along.  There may have been some dancing mixed in with the drying off and the donning of the PJs, for, you see, great songs just kept on coming on every time I was about to turn it off. 

And I know it's hard to go from dancing right to bed, but when his eyes light up and he enjoins me with a "Dance with me Mommy, pleeeeease?" how can I resist?

How can I resist engaging in joy with my son, for whom so much of his day is lessons, lessons, lessons, and directives. Jacob hears all day long: "do this, do that, don't do that, stop, STOP!, for heaven's sake don't do THAT."  

So I said "Yes" and we danced away, bouncing, wriggling, stomping and wailing. "Stop in the name of love, before you break my heart..."

And then of course, a glance at the clock and: BED, NOW!  

Jacob has, historically, always been my easier son to put to bed. He climbs up into his top bunk, blue-bear is located and securely crooked underarm, we sing our two requisite songs; I tell him about the day that has been in the form of a story ("once upon a time there was a boy named Jacob...") and then let him know what's coming up ("And what's tomorrow, Mommy?") a kiss and he's gone. 

"Goodnight Mommy, tomorrow's another day."  

But lately his spunk has been rising, and the compliant, perhaps too compliant little boy is falling back a bit as Mr. Sass is starting to feel his oats.  And I know this is all for the good, that typical eight-year-olds are not nearly as sweet and obedient as Jacob has been, that he is veering toward normal as his feisty gently rears up.   

A large part of me is grateful, cheering him on even, while another part (the one that is already short on sleep) is groaning, bitching and moaning.  I know that for Jacob to grow into his own, the ways in which he is pliant and "easy" will have to fall by the wayside for a while.  I even wrote a post about how happy I was that he learned to "cuss" when frustrated.

But the teenage years?  I don't even want to think about that yet, though they loom, they loom.

So now, at bedtime, instead of meekly marching into his room when Mom says "Bed, Jake", I'm getting the "No", the "I hate bedtime", the "I don't want to go!"  

And then last night, in spite of being in the giggliest of moods, post dance-marathon, he starts sweetly singing our first bedtime song as he climbs up into his bunk, seemingly without too much protest.

"Twinkle, twinkle..."

"Oh, good" I think "relatively easy, tonight"

"little..."

I'm already planning  my rapid escape.

...poopy-head!"  Raucous laughter ensues.

My son is da bomb.