Somebody New invited us over for dinner.

I think I need to repeat that.  Somebody New (that’s actually their real name) invited us all over for dinner!  We haven’t been invited to anyone new’s house since … since Will was two.  Most people see AUTISM and think “no thank you.”  It’s too intimidating and much easier to say “you’re such a great mother” which is, as we all know, the equivalent of a dinner invitation or a group date.   (It totally counts, right?)  We were moved over to “smile and nod” category years ago.

Generally we only socialize with other parents of kids with disabilities or with people who work with kids with disabilities, or with the occasional (really odd) person who is not related to, has never worked with disabled persons but strangely enough is not intimidated by autism.  I’m not sure what’s wrong with them … but I suspect cancer.

Naturally since we were eating at Somebody New’s house Will had a couple of accidents.  Nothing quite says “This is who we are, fabulous aren’t we!” like that.  I’m sure we’ll be invited over again … very, very soon.

Punk

Will the Punk changed my Netflix queue.  I was a little annoyed to open my email and see that Wallace and Gromit was coming rather than Life Season 2, disc 2.  Scratch that … seriously annoyed because we own that Wallace and Gromit  DVD!  Will can watch it at any time! 

Sometimes I think he just toys with me.

“Have you ever considered that the universe just doesn’t want you to buy this house?”

Marcy asked me.  I’d called her to let her know that the house we’re attempting to buy had experienced a flood.  The sump pump wasn’t turned on and judging from the water line in the basement there was over a foot of water in it.  There is a bright side to the flood.  My dad was concerned about the homeless person possibly living in the basement – well, I can pretty much guarantee no one is living in the basement now!

As we walked through the basement with our realtor, I laughed.  At this point, it’s just getting funny.  The bank agreed to give us a credit but now we have to postpone the closing by two weeks.  My husband joked to me that we haven’t had a fire yet.  When our realtor called this morning … I didn’t want to answer the phone.  I did, and luckily no fire.

… at least not yet.

Anticipating Drowning in Greens

I signed up for a share in a CSA again.  A couple of years ago when I had a share for the summer I was overwhelmed by the amount of vegetables I received and decided to go back to my twin loves – chocolate and French fries.  I’ve reconsidered.  And I’ve roped some friends into doing the same.  This seriously better work out or I’ll lose 6 friends over organic vegetables.  (Which would be just sad!)

They’re coming soon so, I figured I better look in my fridge and force feed my children to make room for the abundance of produce coming.  I looked at the website to see what was coming and it looked good.  Well, except for the Swiss Chard luckily my husband and Lizzy will eat that.

Mental Health Day

I slept in until 6:00 Friday morning.  Then I got up to take Bri to catch her bus to Quebec at her high school.  I got the other kids ready for school, sent them off and tried to decide whether Will was sick or not.  It can be difficult to decide if someone who is somewhat verbal is sick.  You look at symptoms.  Will didn’t have a fever, runny or stuffy nose, a cough.  He didn’t throw up.  He woke up early.  He ate his usual breakfast.  I showed him his picture board of various ailments and asked how he felt … nothing.  But, unusually, he sat on the couch with a blanket.  I finally decided to send him to school because he started to loudly vocalize.  At which point I decided to call a mental health day and stay home.

It was a damp, depressing day alternating between rain and drizzle and I didn’t want to go anywhere.

I noticed Jake’s lunch on the counter, forgotten for the second straight day.  I knew he’d call me so I decided to proactively bring it to his school, pay for his previous day’s lunch and stop by the grocery store on the way home to get a graham cracker pie crust and some lime juice for the pies I decided Jake should make for the dessert auction, scheduled Saturday night, to raise money for his scout camp this summer.  Naturally, I decided after I went to the grocery store the previous day because that’s just how I roll.

Returning home I prepared to start my mental health day.  I grabbed a blanket and the first disc of Life season 2.  I watched the entire disc.  Pausing only to get a cup of ice cream and answer Jake’s phone call about his lunch.  Basking in the praise, “mom, you’re the best!”

But I cut my mental health day short to pick up Will from school.  He was sick.  Drat!  I should have kept him home.

What was I saying about a return on investment?

Ah, that’s right, I was complaining about how each of my children was the equivalent of a money pit.  I said that occasional payback happened when MPI babysat MPIII.  I shall rephrase.   

On Tuesday, I came home from Jake’s tutoring session to find the sink that previously held only one dish, filled, the stove covered with dishes, a messy floor, towels in the garbage … and my bathroom, well, suffice it to say I cleaned and disinfected it.  Keep in mind nothing was cooked while I was gone.  But Will had started making banana cake.

At this point I would like to ask the internet “why does he always start with eggs?”

What was the response of MPI, you wonder?  Oh that would be, “well, I did my homework and practicing.”

The Money Pit

Years ago I watched the movie The Money Pit.  Today I came to realization that that’s my life.  But instead of spending money on my house with the expectation that eventually I’ll have a mansion with lovely furniture and artwork to live in; I spend it on my children.  With only the expectation of payback being that eventually they’ll let me move in with them, wait on me hand and foot and provide grandchildren for my amusement.   Currently, aside from listening to Bri play the piano, William talk, and reading a paper written by Jacob there’s not a lot of return.

That being the case, I’ve decided to rename the children MP I, MP II, MP III and MP IV – the Roman Numerals just make it classier don’t they?  I do have systems in place to benefit from monies already expended.  Examples:  1. Since I have already spent enough money to build a hovel in some part of the world on MPI’s piano lessons, I pay her $5 a lesson to teach her siblings.  2.  MPI and MPII babysit MPIII.  3.  MPIV empties the dishwasher.

However, the costs keep increasing.  MPI talked me into letting her go to Quebec with her French class (mom, it’s educational – sure it is), getting her a cat aka Mini-MPI, and paying for a lot of crap.  MPIII … well, anyone who knows … knows the amount of money spent on him.  MPIII pays me back with the occasional pinch, but also lets me give him butterfly kisses.

That’s it!  They can’t move out until they pay me back!

… Uh, wait.