Autism Watch: 2007

Posts Tagged ‘homework

I have been MIA. Or as I prefer to call it, MOB: Missing on Blog. No one reason — no tragedies, no health issues, no major events, just constantly busy and in the leftover time, unmotivated to share more of the same old stuff. But, I am back. As I was sitting here thinking how I needed to blog, an opportunity presented itself. Don’t you just love when that happens? A moment where you should be thinking “what do I do?” but instead you think “I can blog about this.”

Barnacle Boy had minimum day today. It’s monsoon season here in SoCal, yet he was running towards me in our whopping mid-40s temps, through puddles, without his coat. But, he didn’t forget the silly glasses my older dd bought him down in San Diego last week. They’re these wire-rimmed round frames with metallic eyes that stare at you. He could be sleeping and you’d not know it, yet he can see out. I wonder if he wore them during class, but right now, I’m quite frankly afraid to ask.

Typical routine when he gets home is he fills me in on his day, has a snack (usually his specially-baked chocolate chip cookies and milk) and then does his homework. If he’s already showing signs of needing to decompress, he takes 20 minutes to play, then comes and does the work then. Today, he decided he wanted to get it done right away. BUT — that wasn’t before he had to rail on and on at me for not buying him a voice-changing toy from the latest Scholastic book order last week. (He got his books back last Friday, after bugging the teachers daily, and just today realized I didn’t order that $9 toy?)

To back-up further — as soon as he grabbed my hand, he started to chastise me for forgetting the toy. I never buy him good stuff. I’m mean. I don’t do cool things. And so on. We finally get to my truck, what feels like miles down the road because it’s freezing cold out and I’m one of only about 12 parents out of 600 who braved getting out of the car….despite there being no rain right then. Anyway, he played the “I’ll put my seatbelt on when I want to, even if you run out of gas while waiting on me” game. (Bear in mind, I drive a large SUV, one to transport our large family and tow our RV. I can’t just park in any small spot, maneuver away from the curb between everyone blocking the road on a dime, or fill that tank for $5. ) I sit there, motor running, while he’s too far in the back to almost hear me, not telling me if he’s buckled in. And cars are whizzing by me to escape the lazy people who were backing up traffic for miles and miles. Then he starts in again on the missing $9 toy. And continues.

We get home. Still on the toy. (Okay, so it’s a two-minute drive. It just felt like longer.) Comes inside, still on the toy. He gets a bagel, eats it, mumbling about the toy. Takes two minutes on Google on his computer to search it out. Toys R Us. Ha, not on my radar the way you’re yelling, Buddy. Comes to do his homework and realizes that one way he’s been doing his homework is not the right way, ironically as he’s doing it again. The pencil goes flying. So does the paper. So do a bunch of non-vulgar words about the homework, the teacher, the school. Sigh. (And that wasn’t my first sigh. In my head, I was putting him on mute.) It’s been 20 minutes now, and he’s finally working on his math. The botched spelling? Put aside so he can ‘talk’ to his teacher tomorrow. (Thankfully, I got him to agree that emailing his feelings to her was not a good idea. Did I mention we have an IEP in two days?)

I had to step away to answer a phone in another room. While there, I see that in his anger, he pulled everything out of his desk drawer and threw it everywhere. As I walk back to where he’s doing his homework, I get the ‘be quiet, do not bother me’ lecture. (He’s 8. Aren’t I supposed to be the one lecturing?) I find another pencil he broke and threw. I suspect it won’t be the last thing I find.

As for the big picture, it’s Nascar season again. Finally. We have race tickets for Auto Club Speedway and Las Vegas. That’s what dh and I do for ‘our time.’ We had our closest friends over for the Bud Shootout this past Saturday, where our driver nearly pulled off a win. SO close. We’re hosting a Daytona party next weekend, same group of friends, a few more, and a whole lot of food. We make sure Barnacle Boy has plenty of things to choose from, but other than when he eats, he’ll be upstairs in his re-done room, complete with TV/Tivo, computer and Gamecube. He can get away from the noise, and we can still have a fun gathering. (We did take ds to the track with us this past weekend when we attempted to use our 3-lap ride-along gift certificates but the rain foiled that. Oh, and to the lady who touched him and told him not to kick his sister? Who are you? Do you randomly touch other peoples’ children? Do you even realize that there might be a whole lot going on that you, a stranger, aren’t privy to? That very act may have set him off so badly we’d have had to leave, and he was doing pretty darn good. Grab him by the shoulders again. I dare you. We really are watching, just as we were then. ) Lots of appointments, doing our taxes, celebrating two more kids’ birthdays…just a busy month, but now I’m back, and ready to bog about anything and everything once again.

And as I type that, ds is yelling at his sister for existing. How dare she come through the kitchen, eat a bowl of cereal that he might want, make it quieter, for Pete’s sake, and stop cracking your knuckles!! I am counting the minutes until dh’s eye-doctor appointment is done so I have back-up. It’s going to be a LONG night.

Oh, and I’ll try not to go MOB again.

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