Right or wrong, my boys get to watch a TV program every night before bed. I am not sure how that started but, once it did, it stuck. When their program is over, they get bed time stories as well. It isn’t all TV and then straight to bed. We do try to be good parents in that sense.

It used to be one PBS kids show then bed; Jacob’s choice. Last summer, Christopher (aka, Beanie) finally wised up and said, “Hey, why does Jacob always get to pick?” So, it’s been two shows a night ever since. Okay, we are now at an hour of TV every night. Again, not feeling too guilty since it’s Peg Plus Cat (which is a math show) or Super Why (which is a spelling show). But, still, an hour each night makes me feel a bit tight in the gut, but, not as tense as dealing with the after math of saying, “OK, no TV tonight!” Sorry, no thank you. My life with an autistic child is complicated enough.

Tonight, however, Jacob decided he didn’t want Christopher to get the last pick. “I want to watch one of my shows,” he cried. “What do you mean, ‘your shows’” I asked him? They both love all of those PBS programs. “Beanie can’t have last pick!” he cried.  And so the fun begins. But, we’ve already caved on the hour of TV before bed. There has to be a line drawn somewhere.

We had planned to start bed time at 7:45 this evening. It is now 8:54pm. As I write this, Beanie has fallen asleep on his bedroom floor waiting for Daddy to come in and read to him. Daddy, in the meantime, has just recently gotten Jacob to calm down enough to brush his teeth, go potty, take his allergy meds and read a bedtime story.

As I sit downstairs typing this, I can’t help but think of a quote from one of my favorite movies; “I’m tryin’ real hard to be the shepherd.” Some days, it’s so difficult.

Since I’m with them every day, I know how wonderful my little boys are. Sure, they are a handful, no doubt about that. They love hard and they fight hard but they really do bring me joy every day. What I tend to forget is how much joy they can bring to others.

Now that the weather is getting warmer, we spend a lot of time outside. And, since I’ve started another fitness challenge for myself, I have convinced the boys to walk with me every day. Usually we’ve only gone up the street a short way and then back home. Yesterday, I convinced them we could make it all the way to the park, which is a little over a mile from our house. They were up for it. I make it fun for them by letting them run ahead of me; sort of like red light, green light. They get a few feet away and I yell, “Stop!” and they stop until I catch up to them. They love it.

Once we got to the park, however, they were pretty worn out. But we played on the swings and the merry-go-round for about an hour. When it was time to leave, both boys said they were tired and wanted a piggy back ride home. Dilemma; how was I going to do that?? Then, the light bulb went off over my head. Let’s take the bus back home! They have never ridden the metro bus so they were totally jazzed for it.

When we boarded, you’d have thought we just entered Disney Land, they were so excited. And, they were so incredibly polite! There were two seats open across the aisle from each other. Two older women occupied the other seats. Both of my boys walked up to each woman and politely asked, “May I sit in this seat?”  (I cannot lie, I had a brief moment here where I thought my boys had been abducted by aliens and replaced since I have to beg for this type of behavior at home. Guess it just goes to show I’m doing something right.)

That bus ride lasted less than ten minutes. But those boys were so excited and enjoyed that ride so much. When we reached our stop and started heading for the door to exit, Jacob and Christopher turned back towards everyone and waved and said goodbye. I am not exaggerating when I say every single person on that bus waved and said goodbye back. It was like a scene from The Sound of Music! I am so proud of my boys and it was so incredible to see just how much joy they bring to others.

I am just having a “I’m completely overwhelmed” kind of day and thought I’d vent.  I usually try to get to bed by 10pm. If someone had told me that 15 years ago I’d have told them they were crazy. I used to be quite the night owl. Not so much these days. I stayed up until midnight last night and I am whooped!!!!!

I had to work today so I had to get both boys up and dressed by 7am. Usually, I can let Christopher lounge so I only have me and Jacob to get ready. I got Jacob on the bus and ran Christopher to our sitter’s, came home and worked until Jacob’s bus pulled up in front of the house. As soon as he got off the bus, we jumped in the car and started for the sitter’s. I realized I had no money with which to pay her so we raced to the bank and then raced to her house to get him before I had to pay her for another hour!

Once we got Christopher, we went to the grocery store. Both boys are getting so, so good about staying with me in the stores but… they are boys. First, they have to run to the deli and each get their own number. And, Jacob’s new obsession is to use as many public toilets as he can when we are out so we made the stop to the bathroom. Then, they run to the bakery to discuss which cookies we are going to buy… only to be disappointed (and start begging) when I have to tell them no. (The whole gluten free thing, remember? No bakery cookies here!)

When they finally accept that there are going to be no cookies, they run down to see the lobsters in the sea food section, which means, I have to stop looking at whatever I’m searching for and follow them back and forth across the store.

Finally, I get all the groceries and we are checking out. That’s a whole other story in itself!!

We left the store and I decided we hadn’t run around quite enough so we stopped to get haircuts. To be truthful, that was the easiest task of the day… the barbershop was empty so both boys got seated at the same time. I actually got to sit for about 15 minutes.

We came home and the boys decided they wanted to play on the slip and slide, which means Jacob slides while Christopher waits for the mud to start forming and then splashes around in that. Obviously, this activity is followed by bath time.

So, both boys are bathed, I’m cooking dinner while trying to play Don’t Spill the Beans but I thought I’d sneak off for a minute to blog. Hark, I hear a boy crying, “NO! NO! Christopher is taking the game apart!!” This is one of those days when I can’t wait until bed time.  And that is still two hours away!

This is probably going to irritate the dog lovers in my life but…

My neighbor has a golden retriever named Marie. She is a beautiful, friendly dog but her owners let her roam up and down our street unattended. My son is Autistic. Two summers ago, Marie came running up the street and knocked Jacob down. Did she mean to? No. But, Jacob has been terrified of all dogs ever since.  I have politely asked my neighbor to keep Marie on a leash or keep her in their yard on at least three occasions.

Last weekend, Jacob was playing in the front yard and Marie wandered up to our house again. Jacob went into complete panic mode, screaming and crying, trying to climb as high up into my arms as he could get. This, of course, got Marie excited and she started jumping around a bit. I managed to get Jacob into the house and calmed down. I came back outside and walked Marie back to her house and again reminded my neighbors that Jacob is afraid of her since she knocked him down and could they please keep her in their yard. I was very polite and friendly. There was no apology from the neighbor. Five minutes later, Marie was wandering around again but, I held my tongue.

Today, my boys were in the yard, having a picnic for dinner. The neighbor walked up the street with Marie, unleashed. Marie came into our yard while this neighbor stopped to speak with another neighbor. She saw Marie come into our yard and heard Jacob screaming hysterically but she continued her conversation without bothering to get her dog.  Believe it or not, I still tried to be polite. I reminded her that Jacob is terrified of her dog and could she please get her on a leash. She called for Marie but, half heartedly, then continued her conversation. In the meantime, Jacob is in complete meltdown mode, screaming and crying, “Please make that dog leave, please don’t let that dog hurt me!”

I finally lost my cool. How does a person stand there listening to a terrified child scream and cry about their dog and not do something about it? How? I yelled at the top of my lungs, “Come and get your dog, now!!!!”  Her response, “She’s friendly, chill out.”  I’m sorry, what? I continued to yell (not my proudest moment but mama bears claws were out) and told her I don’t care how friendly the dog is, get it on a leash, my son is terrified and don’t tell me to chill out when it comes to protecting my child!

So, for all you dog lovers out there, let me just explain something to you. When a person says, “I’m afraid of dogs and I don’t want yours near me.” Telling that person that your dog is friendly is not the correct response, unless, of course, you are simultaneously taking hold of your dog and getting it as far away from that person as possible.  If you are walking down the street with your dog and you see someone coming towards you, don’t assume they want your dog to sniff or even be anywhere near them. YOU move to the side with your dog and allow them to pass. If you are walking on the beach and your dog is not on a leash and he/she runs up to someone, do not act offended if that person screams at you to get your dog on a leash.  Just because you love dogs doesn’t mean everyone else does. You don’t know what may have caused a person to be afraid of dogs. Do not judge them for it. My son is Autistic. He doesn’t understand when you tell him, “My dog is friendly.” All he knows is his terror.  Please keep this in mind the next time you are out with your dogs.  There is no reason to be offended by this. Some people are just afraid.  They can’t help it.

Christopher is four years old. I mean really four years old. Or maybe he’s just very Irish! He is so dramatic. The other night, I was upstairs reading a bed time story to Jacob. Christopher had not finished his before bed snack so he asked if he could stay at the table and eat while I got Jacob in bed. No problem, right?

Ten minutes later, as I’m sitting peacefully reading to Jacob on his bed, we hear this blood curdling scream from downstairs. I bolt up off the bed and run downstairs as fast as I can. (Jacob giggled uncontrollably and said, “Mommy, make him do it again!”) I get downstairs to find Christopher in the bathroom (completely naked) sitting on the toilet, crying. I said, “What’s wrong?” He replied, “I was calling you to wipe my butt and you didn’t come!”  I asked, “Well, why were you screaming?”  His response, “You didn’t come when I called you and I was mad!”

Then, on Saturday, we decided to go to Target. I am in the process of trying to teach the boys to wash themselves in the bath so we decided to buy them their own special wash cloths. We chose these little shark and alligator puppet cloths.

In that same aisle, they had bathroom accessories; soap dispensers, toothbrush holders, floor mats, shower curtains, etc… Christopher honed in on this toothbrush holder that looks like a pirate ship. Both boys then agreed we should redecorate their bathroom in a pirate theme. I bought the whole kit and caboodle.

Christopher insisted on holding the pirate ship toothbrush holder.  He held onto that thing all the way through the store and the entire car ride home. When we got him out of the car, I offered to carry it into the house. He was adamant that he could carry it himself. I reminded him that if he drops it, it will break. He was so very careful all the way to the house.  Just as he reached the porch, he tripped over his own feet (too much like his mother) and the pirate ship went flying, hitting the sidewalk, shattering.

It was like something out of a movie. He dropped down onto his knees, threw his hands up into the air and cried, “Look at it! Just look at it! It’s broken, it’s so broken!”  I ran to him, scooped him up and promised we would replace it. But, oh my, the drama! He was finally appeased but… if he’s this dramatic at four, what do I have to look forward to when he’s fourteen??? That Irish temper… WHEW! (But, secretly, I wouldn’t change a thing about him!!)