Call me Mother of the Year.
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
Christmas Eve turned into an exercise in Peanut control. We went from the great-grandparents to church to Nana and Papa's to home in one day. Let me just say I am in awe of what that kid can take and dole out. Transitions went well, the charm was turned to the max, and when he was done with this sitting still nonsense, he let me know quietly. Silent night, indeed.
A little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
In this house? Are you kidding? Peanut is TERRIFIED of Santa Claus. Boomer attempted to invoke the jolly old elf's name in an attempt to get the kid off me Christmas morning. Nothing doing. I finally asked if he wanted to see the tree, and that was acceptable. No Santa. At all. Maybe next year.
The presents were delightful, but the best part was the unwrapping. Peanut loves wrapping paper and will use his considerable powers of persuasion to unwrap your gift for you. Free of charge. Whether you want him to or not. I was laughing, because really, it made his day to play with the paper. The sheer joy was enough for both him and I to relax.
Then came the fun part: playing with new toys. Peanut just got done with a playdate involving Doggy Luke, new trains, Train Boy, two temper tantrums, and a partridge in a pear tree. We don't quite know what to do with this new stuff, but by golly, we're going to figure it out. The best part was listening to the boys be super polite to each other between joyous shrieks. SuperTeacher and I had to stuff sleeves into our mouths to keep from laughing out loud and spoiling the moment.
But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
Call me Mother of the Year.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Santa Claus is Coming!
Call me Mother of the Year.
There is much excitement among We Who Follow Peanut. Christmas is coming. Peanut's yearly obsession with lights, cameras, and wrapping paper (wait, that's not right! Oh well.) is in full force and I am laughing. Best of all, the family is coming in full force. I'm rejoicing.
Peanut's a bit confused about this whole Santa deal. He gets the whole presents thing, but jolly fat man entering without Doggy Luke sounding his personal alarm isn't working so well. He gets the pictures of Santa, but doesn't quite believe in him yet. Wait until next year. Then I can use Santa for my nefarious Make My Kid Behave Scheme that has worked so beautifully for Runner Up. A note about Runner Up: I wanted a different name for her, but she informed me that if I am Mother of the Year, then she's my Runner Up. And the name stuck.
However, there are presents to be wrapped, Christmas cards to be sent, and many treats to be made and eaten. From my wonderful family to yours, may your holiday season be blessed with love, laughter, and all the joy of the season.
I would be remiss if I didn't thank all you who were kind enough to tell me your thoughts on my last entry. For your kind words, your support, and your stories, thank you from the bottom of my grateful heart. The process is ongoing, but that's another blog.
Call me Mother of the Year.
There is much excitement among We Who Follow Peanut. Christmas is coming. Peanut's yearly obsession with lights, cameras, and wrapping paper (wait, that's not right! Oh well.) is in full force and I am laughing. Best of all, the family is coming in full force. I'm rejoicing.
Peanut's a bit confused about this whole Santa deal. He gets the whole presents thing, but jolly fat man entering without Doggy Luke sounding his personal alarm isn't working so well. He gets the pictures of Santa, but doesn't quite believe in him yet. Wait until next year. Then I can use Santa for my nefarious Make My Kid Behave Scheme that has worked so beautifully for Runner Up. A note about Runner Up: I wanted a different name for her, but she informed me that if I am Mother of the Year, then she's my Runner Up. And the name stuck.
However, there are presents to be wrapped, Christmas cards to be sent, and many treats to be made and eaten. From my wonderful family to yours, may your holiday season be blessed with love, laughter, and all the joy of the season.
I would be remiss if I didn't thank all you who were kind enough to tell me your thoughts on my last entry. For your kind words, your support, and your stories, thank you from the bottom of my grateful heart. The process is ongoing, but that's another blog.
Call me Mother of the Year.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
There Goes My Heart
Call me Mother of the Year.
The first stage of the process is now complete. Back in September, I alluded to Peanut's preschool misadventures and mentioned that we were following up on different resources. Those resources have taken Boomer and I to pre-K screenings, the doctor's office, and most recently, a child psychologist. Now, after three months, we have a diagnosis.
Asperger's.
For those who are unaware, Asperger's is a mild, high functioning form of autism. It's more of a focus on the social/behavioral issues. The good news is that Peanut, like many with this, is intelligent to the point of awe. The bad news? It's still autism, complete with all the stigma.
So there's the facts. And we go to stage two. Stage two currently involves finding a pediatrician that specializes in the autism spectrum, another meeting with our school district, and figuring out if Peanut will have a place in a pre-K that will be more suitable than our first attempt. We know they want him; it's now a matter of do they have room for him.
The facts are cut and dried; my emotions are not.
When Boomer and my doctor put that kid in my arms nearly four years ago, I swore that I would be there for him. He would have the childhood I had. Loving parents, friends, grandparents to spoil him rotten, and every opportunity possible. He still has that, but the friends part is getting a bit more difficult. Thank God for Partner-In-Crime. And his parents.
Right now I feel like I've been kicked in the teeth. I want to know what I've done wrong. I want to keep him close to me. But I can't. And I know that I haven't done anything wrong. But it still hurts.
I know now that my son will always have an uphill battle ahead of him. More so than the other kids in his class. And no parent wants to hear that their precious baby's path isn't paved with gold.
I want to keep him safe from harm, from stares and comments. But I can't.
What I can do, however, is be his biggest fan. I can be a passionate advocate for my son. I can ensure the best education, learn his life, troubleshoot for him now, and (most importantly) teach him to deal with this crazy world. I can whisper words of love even when his temper makes him scream at me. I will make sure he knows he is adored by Boomer and me.
After all, isn't that what parenting is all about?
Call me Mother of the Year.
The first stage of the process is now complete. Back in September, I alluded to Peanut's preschool misadventures and mentioned that we were following up on different resources. Those resources have taken Boomer and I to pre-K screenings, the doctor's office, and most recently, a child psychologist. Now, after three months, we have a diagnosis.
Asperger's.
For those who are unaware, Asperger's is a mild, high functioning form of autism. It's more of a focus on the social/behavioral issues. The good news is that Peanut, like many with this, is intelligent to the point of awe. The bad news? It's still autism, complete with all the stigma.
So there's the facts. And we go to stage two. Stage two currently involves finding a pediatrician that specializes in the autism spectrum, another meeting with our school district, and figuring out if Peanut will have a place in a pre-K that will be more suitable than our first attempt. We know they want him; it's now a matter of do they have room for him.
The facts are cut and dried; my emotions are not.
When Boomer and my doctor put that kid in my arms nearly four years ago, I swore that I would be there for him. He would have the childhood I had. Loving parents, friends, grandparents to spoil him rotten, and every opportunity possible. He still has that, but the friends part is getting a bit more difficult. Thank God for Partner-In-Crime. And his parents.
Right now I feel like I've been kicked in the teeth. I want to know what I've done wrong. I want to keep him close to me. But I can't. And I know that I haven't done anything wrong. But it still hurts.
I know now that my son will always have an uphill battle ahead of him. More so than the other kids in his class. And no parent wants to hear that their precious baby's path isn't paved with gold.
I want to keep him safe from harm, from stares and comments. But I can't.
What I can do, however, is be his biggest fan. I can be a passionate advocate for my son. I can ensure the best education, learn his life, troubleshoot for him now, and (most importantly) teach him to deal with this crazy world. I can whisper words of love even when his temper makes him scream at me. I will make sure he knows he is adored by Boomer and me.
After all, isn't that what parenting is all about?
Call me Mother of the Year.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Thanksgiving Leftovers
Call me Mother of the Year.
I have lots to be thankful for. Peanut was well-behaved during the family dinner (and the leftover feast!), hanging out with the family was grand as always, and Boomer made breakfast Friday AND Saturday. Oh, Spoiled Mommy.
A bit more about the feasts...
We hit Boomer's family first because they were closer and there was a party. Great-Grandma and Great-Grandpa celebrated their 60th anniversary this week, and we felt the need to celebrate with them. Boomer said he wanted to be like them. I said good, because I get to decide if we stay married the first 50 years, and then he gets the second 50. I may have to revise that one to the first 60, but I'm good so far. So is he.
Other than the minor point of Peanut's begging for toys at his cousin's house rather than eating, he did really well. No temper tantrums, and there was a thankful Mommy. We convinced Wonder Preschooler to leave so he could play with my cousin's kids at Nana and Papa's. We got there and realized they had left 30 minutes earlier. Drat. Luckily, Peanut knows where Nana keeps the toys and that Papa is a sucker for playing with Peanut. Disaster avoided. Too bad the Aggies couldn't say the same.
Friday was a nice, lazy day for us. Boomer made breakfast for his hungry son and grateful wife, and proceeded to take Wonder Preschooler to procure Christmas lights while I got quiet time. And there was much rejoicing. Lights look fantastic, and all are happy.
Saturday looked a lot like Friday, with one notable exception: Peanut is potty-trained! There is much rejoicing! We are quite proud of our Thomas underwear, and Mommy and Daddy are quite relieved.
And now, there is snow on the ground, Peanut wants to ski, and he's settling for going outside and sledding. Now, if only I could find the sled...
Call me Mother of the Year.
I have lots to be thankful for. Peanut was well-behaved during the family dinner (and the leftover feast!), hanging out with the family was grand as always, and Boomer made breakfast Friday AND Saturday. Oh, Spoiled Mommy.
A bit more about the feasts...
We hit Boomer's family first because they were closer and there was a party. Great-Grandma and Great-Grandpa celebrated their 60th anniversary this week, and we felt the need to celebrate with them. Boomer said he wanted to be like them. I said good, because I get to decide if we stay married the first 50 years, and then he gets the second 50. I may have to revise that one to the first 60, but I'm good so far. So is he.
Other than the minor point of Peanut's begging for toys at his cousin's house rather than eating, he did really well. No temper tantrums, and there was a thankful Mommy. We convinced Wonder Preschooler to leave so he could play with my cousin's kids at Nana and Papa's. We got there and realized they had left 30 minutes earlier. Drat. Luckily, Peanut knows where Nana keeps the toys and that Papa is a sucker for playing with Peanut. Disaster avoided. Too bad the Aggies couldn't say the same.
Friday was a nice, lazy day for us. Boomer made breakfast for his hungry son and grateful wife, and proceeded to take Wonder Preschooler to procure Christmas lights while I got quiet time. And there was much rejoicing. Lights look fantastic, and all are happy.
Saturday looked a lot like Friday, with one notable exception: Peanut is potty-trained! There is much rejoicing! We are quite proud of our Thomas underwear, and Mommy and Daddy are quite relieved.
And now, there is snow on the ground, Peanut wants to ski, and he's settling for going outside and sledding. Now, if only I could find the sled...
Call me Mother of the Year.
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