Tag Archives: Family

New Home Soon

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The Man is making great progress with our new house. The plumbing and electric are in, and so is the septic system. We are awaiting inspections today to proceed with insulation, heating and cooling, and drywall. The roof is complete, and the siding is half done, thanks to The Man himself.

The Boy and I visit every weekend and some weeknights. He walks down the cul-de-sac that is one street over, and recently we brought his bike over to the new house so he can ride it there, as well (as he really has no space to ride it at our current house). We have met and befriended our closest neighbors, both of which have dogs, and The Boy loves to visit them. When we visited the site this past weekend, I couldn’t get him to leave.

We’ve also begun talking about his room and what he would like that to look like (blue walls with white puffy clouds, thankyouverymuch). We have begun stopping at a nearby convenience store run and owned by some great people who appreciate The Boy and his quirks. It even has a retro arcade so he can play his favorite games for a quarter.

The time it has taken to build this house ourselves has given The Boy ample time to adjust to the idea of living there, and become accustomed to the surroundings. He is now excited about the move, and this process has been ideal for allowing him time and experience to accept the change.

We can’t wait.

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Spring Break is Here. Woo Hoo.

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Everyone loves vacation, right? Everyone loves a week off of school!

Nope.

The Boy in recent years has looked more forward to it, I’ll admit. But the reality is that the slightest changes in routine throw us all off, and Spring Break is a million tiny changes in our routine and a lot of big ones. Normally, I wake up at 6am to do yoga. Apparently the act of walking down the hall at that time of the morning, gives The Boy some sort of pre-wake up call that I wasn’t aware of. Because apparently, when he is on Spring Break, and does not need to leave the house as early, I am still required to wake up at 6am. Grrr.

And someone (I shall not name names) ate two packages of pop tarts (!), at some point this weekend (we usually get breakfast elsewhere), which leaves one to last us until Wednesday. That same someone complained to Grammy that he had not been given breakfast…

That same someone also required umpteen reminders yesterday to get out of bed and get ready to leave. He waited until the last minute, couldn’t find his headphones, and got upset… sigh… (later found under the bed at Grammy’s, just like everything else that gets lost).

He also thinks he can stay up all hours of the night watching movies in his room.

I’m going to wake him up in 14 minutes. That will be 15 minutes earlier than yesterday. We shall see if allowing him more time to procrastinate helps the situation. But I’m pretty sure the only thing that will help this situation is sending him back to school…

Spring Break in an Autism Household looks NOTHING like this...

 

Happiness is…

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This may be it this week. I’ve been nagging myself to post, but we’ve opened the shop an hour earlier this week, and with The Boy home for vacation, my routine is so funky, I’m all messed up. So rather than stress, I thought I’d write a simple post to wish you all the happiness of the season. 

My family is my heart and my happiness, and this week in particular, they are my focus.

Love you all to bits!

My boys and the beach

My Aunt

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About a week ago, my aunt was killed in a car accident on her way to our family reunion.

She was my dad’s only sister, and my only aunt not by marriage.  She was my godmother, and mother to 10 children, including three sets of twins, and a son with Down’s Syndrome.  She was a teacher, and when she retired, she continued to teach GED classes at the local prison.  She came from a long line of strong, active, intelligent, family-oriented women.  I’ve written before about her and these strong women here and here.

We were so looking forward to seeing her, and listening to her and my great-aunt share memories.  It was a hard weekend, but it was amazing to be able to share our grief with extended family members.  We won’t be able to make it to her memorial service, but she has been on our minds and in our hearts all week.

Even though she was 87, she was taken from us too soon.  She was an inspiration, even though she’d probably roll her eyes at that.  She was another one who, when asked, “How do you do it?” would have simply replied, “I just do.”

I love you, and I’ll miss you, my dear Aunt Mickey.

The Times, They Are A-changin’

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A few weeks ago, I wrote about how the pilot program that we fought to get The Boy into will not be extended into the high school.  And tomorrow, I meet with the IEP team to discuss the plans for next year, after hearing through the grapevine that the pilot program in the middle school is being stripped down, as well.  Hence, the fabulous “opportunity” to place The Boy into a resource room for all of his cores! Blech.  Do they really think I’m that dumb?  But I digress…

Our fear is that without the pilot program extending into the high school, the district will most likely re-assign The Boy back to his home school… Do you remember his home school? I do. It wasn’t a good experience. And if that middle school that he attended for one quarter was any indication, I doubt the high school he would attend would be remotely better.

The Man and I have been in deep discussion and thought ever since these changes became apparent.  We’ve been considering options for the future of our little family.  And we’ve been property-shopping.

Even before this all came about, The Man and I were keeping our eyes peeled for an affordable bit of property on which he could build us a house.  Not hire a builder to build us a house.  This would be The Man, building us a house, with the help of some of his friends in the trades.  You see, this has been a dream of his for awhile.

So when our hand was forced, and the school district seemed likely to change The Boy’s placement for the worse, The Man and I decided that now was the time to go all in, buy a plot of land, and start building on that end of the district so that, at the very least, The Boy could attend high school with people he knows.

We closed on our lot today.

New Beginnings

More change is coming our way, as building a new house means selling our current house, and living somewhere else temporarily until the new house is built.  A lot for a kiddo on the spectrum.  But I’ve already started prepping him.  And he is actually looking forward to being able to sleep in later and a much shorter bus ride. 🙂

When Work Sucks

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I love my job.  I love being busy, I love having some responsibility (and a title).  I love being a leader in the office.

But there are aspects of my job that are really just too much, sometimes.  I have quite a background in educational leadership and administration which actually isn’t a far cry from business management.  Simply put, a good leader is a good leader, and good management practices are good management practices.  And it is still easy for me to identify examples of bad leadership and management practices, too.

I work in a culture of blame, and I hate that.  Good leaders use mistakes to help guide people to better work, and to help create better procedures.  Poor leaders point fingers and end up making good workers wonder why they work so hard, or even quit.  Two people walked off the job this Sunday.  Two, of an office staff of six.

Today, I busted my behind, trained two new employees, handled a million phone calls, and even booked some private charters.  I went home feeling pretty good about the productive day I had.  And about an hour after I got off work, I got a phone call from my boss, asking me about something at work which he clearly felt was a mistake I had made.  I had not made a mistake, but in his mind, he had to blame someone, so it was me.  And instead of feeling good about being productive and working hard today, I end up with a sick feeling in my stomach this evening about his perception of my fault, even though none existed.

More and more, every single day is stressful, and that means I have less to give when I get home at night, which is absolutely no good.

Jobs are hard to find.  In five months of searching last year, I got very few calls for interviews, and only one real offer.  Do I consider leaving?  Yes I do.  Definitely on evenings like tonight.

How do I deal with it?  My boys.  I spend time with my family and they make me laugh.  It may sound clichè, but they remind me why I am really on this planet.  It’s not for other people’s kids, and it’s most certainly not to take reservations for boat trips.  It is to love and spend time with my guys.  Yes I need a job to pay the bills, but my job is the small stuff as compared to The Boy and The Man.  Remembering that is how I deal with the rest.

A Year Has Passed

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The Boy and I have now lived in our new home for a year.  All in all, our transition down here was a lot smoother than I anticipated.  The beginning of the school year had its fair share of stressors, but over the course of the year, we have been very lucky with the opportunities that have come our way (including those that I helped force our way), and we have settled into a very happy existence.

Don’t get me wrong.  We were happy before, and I miss that just a little, the single mom household thing, the metropolitan suburbia thing, the way-more-time-for-hobbies thing.  I miss that a bit.  I miss our friends (although we are looking forward to some visits this summer!), some of our favorite restaurants, having a Target around the corner as opposed to 45 minutes away…

But they have been replaced with The Man around full-time thing, the warmer climate thing, and that little thing called “family” – there is nothing that beats that.  The ocean, new friends that crack me up Every Single Day, our new-to-us home, having The Man around Every Single Day, lunching with my mom, having dinner with my parents, getting off of work at 3pm and not having to do anything else with my job until the next morning (usually), sweet tea in abundance, and date night Every Single Weekend…

So as I sit and reflect about all that has changed in our lives since a year ago, I am very pleased that we jumped at this chance, very thankful for how it has turned out, and very, very happy.

The end of our rainbow

Butterpats and Old Newspapers

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This weekend, I helped my mom sort through her antique butter-pat collection.  She started collecting them before I was born, and has kept them through the years, hoping they will accrue in value, but mostly admiring their beauty.

We pulled them out once when I was a girl, and from the evidence we saw today, it must have been when I was about ten, in 1984.  I vividly remember doing this, because I accidentally dropped one on our ceramic tile kitchen floor shortly after we had started, and it shattered.  My mom was disappointed and probably angry, while I was mortified that I had broken something she valued so much.  I was in tears, and ran to my room, and in the meantime, the butter-pats were re-wrapped and put away again.

Today, as we pulled out each butter pat, carefully unwrapped it and placed it on the table, she reminisced about when she had purchased them, and we both remarked on their patterns, age, and condition.  Some are Spode, some are Wedgewood, some are Haviland and Limoges.  I noted my favorites, and we looked at the markings, and her previous notes deciphering the codes in the imprints on the back.

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We also noted the newspaper they had been wrapped in.  One or two from 1984 (including the Detroit Tigers 1984 Season Schedule, the year they won the World Series), but most from 1974, in the summer before I was born.  There were announcements of concerts by Eric Clapton and the Grateful Dead, advertisements for recently released movies like “The Sting” and “Blazing Saddles,” and other interesting news of the day.

It was a wonderful afternoon for remembering, and an unexpected look into the past. Who knew the material in which she wrapped those butter-pats nearly 40 years ago would be almost as interesting as the butter-pats themselves?

Buddies

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The Boy has always relished the attention that The Man has given to him without a thought, most likely because his own dad doesn’t give him the time of day, even in the one week of the year (or less) that he sees him.  The Man was the one to teach The Boy how to ride his bike, and The Man will be the one that shows him how to shave.  He is constantly creating teachable moments with The Boy, and doesn’t hesitate to take him to the hardware store or the convenience store for a little hang-out time.  This morning, he suggested The Boy start his truck while he started my car for me (ice and sleet having covered our windshields, and not having an ice scraper because the old one got busted in the last ice storm).  It pretty much made The Boy’s day.

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Tonight, The Man and The Boy had a wrestling match, which they do a couple of nights a week – we use it as a reward, and The Boy adores the sensory input and the bonding.  Later on, he came out of his room and sat with us (an unusual occurrence), and it was a wonderful family moment, giggling and laughing as I asked yes or no questions and they controlled eachother’s heads to nod yes or no in answer.  And he chose to stay to watch some skiing with us, cuddling up to his stepdad on the end of the couch.  And he even invited The Man to have a sleepover in the family room with him tonight since he has a snow day tomorrow…  The Man has fallen asleep, but The Boy is still there cuddled up to him, enjoying having a real dad for the first time in his life.