Sunday, January 30, 2011

but only one of them came with a hat!

What? In our world, Spongebob action figures can go wherever they want, thankyouverymuch, even if it's Hot Wheels City circa 1989.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

"super cheers!"

Several months ago we lost Toodles for good. Punkin was upset for a week or so but recovered pretty well. Every once in a while, though, he would move the picture, look down the hole in the wall, and call for him. Over the past week his searching increased. It was pretty sad, so I looked online and found a figurine pack that came with a bonus Toodles. It arrived today and he immediately yelled, "MY TOODLES!" This one is much bigger than the original, and he has yet to try to dispose of him. I'll be sure to keep you posted.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

he's six, you guys!

On Wednesday I started talking to Punkin about his birthday party. "It's going to be your birthday. We'll go over to Oma and Opa's house and have a party. We'll eat food with our friends and open presents. It will be a birthday party for you."


I talked to him about it again several times throughout the week, specifically when he cried because I wouldn't drive him to the store for "kank you my more markers peas."

"Maybe you'll get some at your birthday party."


Well, good. This should be fun.

Birthday parties are a tightrope walk. It takes practice and some failures to figure out what works best for a child with autistic behaviors and sensory processing disorders. I've come to learn to just give Punkin space and not expect perfection. I can't force him to eat cake, I can't force him to want to be around lots of people, and I can't force him to sit and study each present he opens before tossing it aside and tearing apart the next one.

Today went pretty well. By this morning he wasn't completely opposed to the idea of the party, even if it was mostly because of presents. And even though he doesn't eat cake, he was excited to see his cake on the table. He was TICKED OFF when I was helping prepare for the party instead of hanging out with him, but he recovered quickly. And the picture above is him delightedly attempting to blow out his birthday candles.

Did I tell you about the candle thing? He loves candles. You know how churches have candlelight services on Christmas Eve? Punkin spent the entire service this year asking when we were going to light his candle and figuring out ways to steal other people's candles. All of a sudden he wanted to sit with my mom; all of a sudden my mom's candle was missing. Then he wanted to sit with Auntie, then Opa. Pretty soon Punkin has three candles. He even convinced a complete stranger to give him hers after the service was over.

What I don't understand is why he couldn't blow out any of the candles today, because at that service on Christmas Eve, he blew his candle out during Silent Night several times. "OH NO, what happen my cannel? Uh fix it? More cannel?" And when I lit it for the third time and told him, "No more or I take it away, " he fake sneezed to extinguish it.

But anyway, the actual party was fine. He loved opening his presents and seemed excited about them. It was after the birthday party ended and the football party began that things got a little tense. I let him watch movies on his portable DVD player and eat all the chips and cheese his heart desired, but it just wasn't the SAME.

See, Punkin basically owns the basement at my parent's house when we visit. He gets the recliner and the remote. He also gets to control the lighting. Not so much today. This caused some anger, most of which he held back until everyone left and he decided to beat up Oma. And then he cried because I wouldn't let him color anymore due to excessive marker throwing. And then he cried because I wouldn't take him to buy a hot dog. And then he cried because it was time for bed. Oh, the horror.

Parties are fine, but really I think they're more for the family and for me than for him. I definitely don't know that he'll have a typical party with other kids any time soon seeing since he needs to take frequent breaks from the action and can't handle the pressure as well as other kids his age. That's okay, though. We just want to have fun. And I'm pretty sure that as long as he has at least one balloon, we're golden.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

tonight may be the night

It's been four days since either of us have slept through the night, but I have a good feeling that tonight is the one. It has to be, right? Right?

He woke up on Friday at 4:15am, but it was FRIDAY -- respite day -- so I was in good spirits. Saturday was not good. He woke up at 4:15am again and I don't know if it was my sour mood or his high-powered engine, but the morning ended in me calling my mom in tears, "Will you just c-c-come over w-w-w-when you're done?" I couldn't handle the loudness of his toys and the stress of him banging his head against the wall, which seems to be his new method of gaining my attention. A couple hours of silence later and I missed him too much to stay away any longer.

Sunday morning I planned to enroll him in Sunday School, but as I helped him sit up on the couch I noticed he felt hot. Sure enough, he had a fever. He spent the day in a lump on the couch, save the short time Oma and Opa brought me lunch, and the night whimpering. The next morning I noticed that he had a lump on his neck.

I don't remember the last time that he cried so much while sick. In fact, I don't remember the last time he cried this much at all. I slept in his bed and he woke up in the middle of the night and said, "Hurt," pointed to his mouth, "Hurt." He never expresses that he's in pain, so I was kind of excited that he communicated that to me, but also heartbroken that I couldn't do anything about it since he refuses to swallow pain medication.

He's on antibiotics for a swollen lymph node, which he will drink only because it's pink; he says, "is beauful." But so far nothing's changed, including the insanity of his sleep schedule. He first woke at 2:15am, we watched Alvin and the Chipmunks (because what else is there to do?), and we fell asleep again from about 4-6am.

I just wish I could get more out of him. I'm thankful for the communication skills he has, as they are certainly something to be proud of, but I still feel like he's an infant sometimes and I'm playing this guessing game about what is bothering him and why. I do secretly, or not so secretly anymore, enjoy the extra cuddle time.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

i didn't forget that i have a blog

I just haven't been feeling especially chatty, and I've been rather distracted. So I'll just go the easy route and give you a run-down of some things that have happened over the past week.

Punkin pooped his pants nearly every day at home, though never at school. Today, he got up from playing, ran to the bathroom, did his number two, and acted like I had three heads when I followed him in there. Hey, remember that time you flushed my face cream? Or that other time you put an entire roll of toilet paper in the toilet? Or that other time your sharks went "swimming"? I'm not leaving you alone for a second, buddy, so don't get all modest on me.

We have watched Alvin and the Chipmunks and Shrek Forever After approximately 53,247 times each, although I rarely am able to see the last 10 minutes of either movie because we have to start it "again."

Someone put a fake frog downstairs near the laundry. Turns out I'm afraid of frogs.

I caught a cold from Punkin and because I have super awesome lungs, ended up missing three days of work because of my cough and a case of The Pinkeye. I'm always catching the little kid diseases. I'd rate pinkeye way above ringworm, though, in case you were wondering.

Also, I managed to plan his birthday party for what will now be the same day and time that the Bears are playing the Packers; looks like we'll be having a football party!

Saturday, January 8, 2011

mr. potato head tries to sneak into the superhero convention

"Do you think anyone will notice?"
"Notice? You have wings taped to your back. Me? I'm a professional. I'm warning you, stay back 15 feet or I'm blasting you with my laser."
"Your laser? You mean your little light bulb that doesn't blink?"

Tuesday, January 4, 2011


If your child has acid reflux, then you know how important their medication is to both of you. Punkin can miss up to two doses and be okay. Any more than that, and I'm cleaning up pukey sheets. For several years, he's been taking Prevacid Solutabs. They dissolve in a small amount of water on a spoon, they taste good, and they transport easily.

I called the other day to refill the prescription, hopeful that I wasn't calling too soon for medicaid's liking, but also not so late that we'd be out of pills. The automated system told me a generic was available, and I agreed to save the state some money and use it.

I went to pick it up and the woman hands me a large, cold bottle and a syringe. I ask her if this in fact the correct medication.

"Yes, it is."

"Can I get the solutabs instead? I know I agreed to the generic. I'm so sorry, he will refuse to take this."

"It looks like they make a solutab."


"But insurance doesn't cover it."

"They always have before."

"Well, they change their policies a lot, and it's not the preferred drug."

Call me a control freak if you want, but I don't feel like a bunch of people on a committee somewhere should be able to decide which medications are available to me. And I mean available, because even this generic costs $263 for a month's supply. So while I'm grateful that medicaid is here to cover Punkin's medical needs, I am irritated at any insurance company (because medicaid isn't the only one that does it) that insists it knows something my child's doctor and I don't.

So now my son not only is unable to take chewable ritalin, which I found out they do make, because it's not covered, but now I get to fight with him to drink two teaspoons of reflux meds a day.

Maybe someone on that committee can come clean that yucky liquid off my kitchen floor.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

go snow!

Punkin finds snowball fights hilarious.
We did it! Hooray!

Punkin was awesome on our trip, and now I'm just dealing with a bad cold and cookie withdrawl. I feel so blessed to have such a wonderful extended family who understands our needs. I also spoke to his pediatrician, with Oma's encouragement, about giving him a third dose of ritalin in the afternoon. It made today much easier, that's for sure! It really wasn't fair to him to expect that he be able to control his impulses in the evening the way he does during the day without the help of his medicine.