But ...

... if New Year's isn't New Year's without a resolution or two, Bubbe has a few suggestions over at Ask Bubbe.

No resolutions.

I know the popular thing to do is post all my resolutions, my hopes, my regrets from the past year, my sorrows, and my dreams. I'm not going to. Instead, I have a message for my Logan.

Sweet Monsterlette Baby,
To most everyone you are a puzzle that no one knows quite how to solve. But I've never regarded you as "the puzzle". You're you. And you're stuck with me.

I love you,
Momma

Crunchy Brownies~ A GFCF comedy of errors

A couple of days ago I wanted cookies. I mean, I really really wanted cookies. But I have mentioned before the extreme guilt I have when I make a treat and it's not Logan safe. So, after obsessing about cookies for most of the day, I began to formulate a plan in my brain. You would think I would have learned my lesson by now. But I haven't. And this is where things start to go down hill.

Do any of y'all remember that episode of I Love Lucy, where she bakes bread, and winds up having a loaf the size of a New York City block? Keep that in mind as you continue reading my adventure.

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So, the brilliant idea I had was, I would use a classic peanut butter cookie recipe. BUT, I would substitute Nutella for the peanut butter, because Logan tolerates that VERY well. And I would substitute a rice/potato/tapioca flour blend for the wheat flour.  And I would use Earth Balance Buttery Sticks instead of butter. And I would use egg replacer instead of real eggs. But I wanted a chewy cookie, almost like  "brownie bite", so I increased the egg replacer equivalent to double the eggs.  Sometimes, you should just leave things well enough alone.

I mixed up my dough. It was heaven before it was ever baked. The flavor was incredible, and the monsters wouldn't stay out of it.  I was all kinds of sure of myself. It wasn't grainy, as things made with rice flour tend to be.  So I made my little balls of dough, put them on a greased cookie pan ( mistake # 4,367 with this recipe), and slid them in to the oven to bake.

The house began to smell like a cross between a bakery and a chocolate shop. We were salivating and anxiously awaiting the cookies that would, undoubtedly, come out of the oven ready to be photographed by the Food Network. I was practicing my version of Paula Deen, the GFCF way.

The timer beeped. Now. Remember. In real life, away from this blog, I am a total baker. I LOVE to bake. I adapt recipes all the time. Well, all the ones that are not GFCF. And I generally have favorable results. I created an oatmeal cookie recipe for Logan that the family adores. I have had exposure to my kitchen. We get along well. However. This whole GFCF thing has made me believe that I don't know a thing.

OK. Back to the story. The timer beeped. We all ran to the kitchen to be a part of the unveiling of my GFCF chocolate cookie masterpiece. I opened the oven. My palms were sweaty. I  took a breath, readying myself for the applause, the ohs and ahs that my monsters would surely be unable to hold back.

I reached into the oven with a mitt-clad hand. And pulled out a pan of what looked like boiled Hershey's syrup. I'm serious.  But, I was not discouraged. After all, I'm a baker! Surely this simply meant I just needed more flour. So, I went to the bowl of  unbaked chocolate heaven and added more rice/potato/tapioca flour mix. But then I thought, that will mess up the whole vision of a chewy "brownie bite". So I also added a half cup of almond milk. Then I got a 9x13 cake pan, remembered NOT to grease it, pressed the dough into it, set the timer for 20 minutes, and went off to play on twitter a while do research for the blog.

Once again, the timer beeped. The house was virtually saturated with the perfume of chocolate. The warmth of the oven created ambiance you couldn't recreate if you hired a professional. I just KNEW this was going to turn out well. I was still practicing my lines for my role as the GFCF Paula Deen as I slipped on the oven mitt once more.

I opened the oven door. I slid the pan out. It was REALLY liquidy, with a crunchy topping. I considered wrapping the top in foil to let the mess continue to steam cook, but I didn't. When it cooled, we tasted. It was so extremely good. The top was crunchy, like a lacey cookie would be crunchy.  The inside was fudgy, like a slightly under baked fudge brownie. I was OK with all of that. The entire Monster House was OK with all of that.

Now here's what I did NOT like about it. The thing had "sugared" while baking. If you've ever made fudge and had it "sugar" on you, you'll know what I mean. It was grainy. It was gritty. The flavor was still there, but the texture of it was more than I could handle. It disappeared quickly, the fam made sure of that. But I am far from satisfied with this Crunchy Brownie experience.

I need a GFCF babysitter. OK, all you well informed bakers. What did I do wrong? Besides changing the whole dang recipe and messing with things I know nothing about? My flour mix is as follows: ! pound rice flour, 1 pound Potato Flour, 1/2 pound tapioca flour mixed together. When the recipe called for 2-1/2 cups flour, I used 2-1/2 cups of that flour blend,. plus another cup later for the second attempt.

Really. I'm begging here. HELP ME!! I need an intervention or a babysitter or a tutor, or SOMETHING.

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To TV or not to TV, that is the question.

There is a big controversy happening at the Monster House. Big. And by big I mean, even our case coordinator for Early Intervention made her position on the matter known. She agrees with me, because she's a smart woman and I'm always right. Being the Momma gives me that privilege.

 The controversy: Is it, or is it not horrible and awful and terrible and horrendous that I have a television and DVD player in the nursery for the twinnie monsterlettes, which plays Classic Disney movies all. night. long.?

 

See, here's the reason I do this. If the TV is playing, Logan will sleep all night (with a tiny amount of help from the clonidine fairy) and so will #6. If there is no movie playing, even softly, there is crying and all the ugly stages of meltdown all night long. So. I have no guilt about this. The twinnies are not in front of a television all day long, I don't use it as a babysitter. I use it when they go down for a nap, or down for the night.

You would not believe how much crap I have gotten for this. And, as someone so generously pointed out to me, television addiction is a sign of autism. Really? Wow. But.. I wonder, is this REALLY an addiction to television, or the need for flickery light and sound together? We have tried just playing music on a cd, no TV on. THAT didn't work. We have tried the TV on with no sound. THAT didn't work. Turned on an animated movie, with sound. Sleeping happened in less than five minutes. The way I figure it, don't rock the boat!

And by the way... is anyone noticing a THEME here? Look again. What does EVERY SINGLE picture have in common? Ding ding ding! We have a winner! They are ALL movies with puppies. And as all of us know, Logan has this tiny little appreciation for puppies.

Yes folks, my cute little Logan child is "addicted to TV". But only if it's a "Puppy Show". Otherwise, he just doesn't care. Please tell me some of you have this same thing happening in your home. We have even been known to skip scenes in other movies, to the parts where there is a cameo of a dog. This is how ridiculous this is getting. At the Monster House, even Cinderella is a Puppy Show. Gotta love Bruno.

But. A word to the wise. There is no way, at all, to spin certain things into Puppy Shows.  I'm just sayin'. I refuse to tell anyone how I know this.

We've come a long way, Baby!

I have been doing some research for my own use, and have found some interesting things I thought I would pass on. I must warn you that it is lengthy, but it was never intended to be a blog post, as such. I invite those who may have more information for me on this subject to share it! PLEASE!

The way I figure it, this should be good for a couple days' worth of blogs....  ;)

In 1887, the term “Idiot Savant” was first used by Dr. John Langdon Down to describe individuals with a developmental disorder, who also had areas of expertise that were in contrast to the individual's overall limitations. Later, this term was described to be a misnomer, because not all cases of idiot savants fit the definition of “idiot”, originally used to describe someone with very severe mental retardation. “Autistic savant” was also used as a diagnosis for this disorder, but over time was found to be a misnomer as well, because only one half of those diagnosed with Savant Syndrome were actually autistic. (1)

It has been more than 150 years since the term “Idiot Savant” first appeared in a German scientific journal, and more than 120 years since Dr. Down first described savant syndrome (2) as a distinct condition.

I came across the following in an article written by Darrold Treffert, MD (3)

“...There has been much progress since that time, including substituting the term “savant syndrome” for the understandable at its time, but now regrettable term, “idiot savant.” In a 1988 paper in the American Journal of Psychiatry, and in my Extraordinary People book in 1989, I suggested using the term “savant syndrome” to cover this “range of abilities that occurs in several conditions” and I am pleased to say that there has been fairly universal adoption of “savant syndrome” to replace the outdated, now pejorative term, “idiot savant.”

Then that same year came the movie Rain Man, which made the term “autistic savant” household words, providing a great deal of public information about, and acceptance of, this remarkable condition.

And, as documented on this Web site, there has been a great deal of other progress as well such as better answering the “how do they do it?” question; better understanding the types of savant syndrome, including the ‘acquired’ savant; better recognizing the overlap between prodigy, genius and savant syndrome; better acknowledging the important role that families and caretakers play in discovering and nurturing the special gifts; better realizing the benefits that ‘training the talent’ can bring; and focusing increasingly on a-bility rather than dis-ability in all persons with handicaps or limitations.

Much more research remains to be done, certainly, to fully utilize the special opportunity that savant syndrome provides, given the unique window into the brain that savant syndrome affords. Those efforts are accelerating now with new tools to assess not only brain structure, but brain function as well.

... One reason that many savants, or many autistic persons for that matter, have IQ scores below 70 is that IQ measurement depends so heavily on verbal scales, and many autistic individuals, including those with savant syndrome, have language (verbal) deficits as an intrinsic part of the underlying disorder...

... In summary, some savants do have IQ scores above average. Most do not. Therefore IQ level is not a sole determinant as to whether an individual is a savant or not. Savant syndrome exemplifies ‘islands of genius’ superimposed on an underlying developmental or other disability that can be associated with sub-normal, normal or elevated IQ as measured by formal IQ testing as one single measure of “intelligence.” And in assessing the meaning of IQ scores with respect to ‘retardation’, one has to be careful to differentiate ‘functional’ retardation for ‘actual’ retardation. IQ scores assess only the latter...

But somewhere in this disease de jour culture in which we exist, we have begun, in my view, to apply the diagnosis of Asperger’s disorder or autism much too easily to persons who are in fact, prodigies or geniuses. That trend notwithstanding, “Prodigy” and “Genius” do exist as real entities. They are not always closet Asperger’s or unrecognized autism.

Beyond that, some “normal” (neurotypical is the proper word now) children simply read very early, for example. Some have advanced musical ability. Some draw with impressive talent. Some do math problems precociously. Some have attention-grabbing memory. My posting on hyperlexia on this Web site outlines several kinds of early word recognition abilities and precocious reading skills that range, diagnostically, from normal, to autistic-like (for a time) to autism itself. Not all hyperlexic children are autistic. Some are perfectly normal children who happen to read very early. That posting on hyperlexia points out the importance of accurate diagnosis before terms such as autism are applied with all that such a diagnosis implies with respect to treatment, prognosis and outcome.

In short, prodigy and genius do exist as separate entities. Not all such persons are savants nor do they all have Asperger’s disorder or Autistic disorder.

Why is that distinction important? Because many parents, based on the “I’ve got a son or daughter who…” e-mails that I get from this Web site regularly, are concerned that their child who reads at 18 months, or draws at two years, or hums back all the melodies he or she hears, or likes to line up railroad cars, resists certain foods, or memorizes license plate numbers, or insists on routine, or has certain fears ‘could’ be autistic. They look up autism on the web and are both convinced, and frightened, that their son or daughter has “autism.” But not every child who likes to line up railroad cars, or plays tunes quite prolifically and precociously on the toy piano, or excels in drawing is autistic, any more than every hyperlexic child has Asperger’s.

There is wide variation in the range of ‘normal’ childhood behaviors, as any parent with several children can tell you, and there is a wide range, and overlap as well, between normal, gifted and talented, prodigy and savant syndrome classifications in children. Such differential diagnosis requires skill, and caution. While I support early identification of autism in youngsters, those efforts need to be balanced with sensible caution lest parents be unnecessarily frightened and overwhelmed by premature, and erroneous, diagnosis. In my experience, except in truly ‘classic’ cases, often some time of watchful observation needs to elapse before the ‘natural history of the disorder’ reveals the real diagnosis. And I have had some very pleasant surprises along the way with such ‘watchful observation’ and diagnostic caution.

The beginning of wisdom is to call things by their right name. Asperger’s, autism, and savant syndrome surely do exist. But so do normal, gifted and talented, prodigy and genius. The important thing is to know the difference. “

1-http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Savant_syndrome

2-http://www.healthofchildren.com/S/Savant-Syndrome.html

3-http://www.wisconsinmedicalsociety.org/savant_syndrome/savant_articles/myths_that_persist

The high has worn off

 The following is accurate portrayal of what I looked like on Christmas Day, 6 am, when the monsters figured out Santa had dropped by.

 And............ this would be an accurate portrayal of the house at just about... 6:14 am.

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But now that Christmas is over, I can't put it any better than Calvin, when describing my thoughts about this past year and the year to come. It is doubly meaningful, when I put a special needs spin on my thoughts.

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Guest blogging today!

I'm guest blogging over on I'm Just That Way and That's Just Me today! How exceedingly cool is THAT?!?! Click on over and check it out!

Merry Christmas from the Monster House!

It's the most wonderful time of the year....

Okay. I'm done being all full of holiday cheer and happiness and light and talking about Santa, elves, reindeer, etc. THEREFORE. this one is for the parents. The people who no longer hold to the belief in the Jolly Old Elf.

The monsters thought this picture was hysterical. Clearly, Notorious #5 was not invited to this viewing.

It's Christmas Eve day! What're y'all doing online? Go play with your monsters, bake cookies, make snow angels, stack tumbleweed "snowmen"... something. But get off the computer and enjoy the family time!

I really want to find out which airline did this. BUCKETS of awesomeness!!!

Stress?!?! WHAT stress?

This week has been a little nuts. Actually, it's been a little nuts since last week. Our dryer died. Got a new one, and the explanation for that can only be explained as a Christmas miracle, since it was free, it's new, and it matched my washer.  

We've had flooding. and lots and LOTS of rain. Logan is sick with the Black Death, and that alone keeps me awake nights, checking on him to make sure he is still breathing, monitoring his fevers, and giving him meds for his cough. Last night, when I went to start the shower for a "steam bath" to ease his cough and congestion, I discovered we had no hot water. No problem, I thought, the pilot has just gone out. I can take care of that.

So I did. Less than five minutes after lighting  and resetting our gas water heater, it turned itself off. I tried and tried to make it stay lit. It won't. We STILL have no hot water. The landlord won't answer his phone, and his voicemail  is full, as usual. AND, the Daddy is out of town on business until this evening.

So. Today's theme is "Show me your holiday stress!" It seems that catastrophic things only happen during major holidays ( when no one is open for business) or when the Daddy is out of town. Major vehicle issues ONLY happen right after you fill the tank with gas.

Show me YOUR worst holiday stress stories in the comment section below. I'm thinking that by sharing the worst stressful stories, it creates reassurance, because I am NOT the only one that stupid things like this happen to. Right? RIGHT??  Oh, seriously, I CANNOT be the only one..... can I?

Dear Santa....

I saw this picture of Santa Claus and just had to share it. First I laughed, and then I thought, "Yep! That's pretty accurate!"

I got to thinking again, about all the things we have learned this year, having started our adventure hand in hand with Logan learning about autism and other things. And you know... I have learned to appreciate his sense of humor, gauge his moods, watch for little signs from him indicating hunger, fatigue, over stimulation... but here's the kicker. I do that with ALL the monsters. I always have. Maybe I didn't know the technical terms for things before now. Maybe I wasn't having to carry out a strict diet for all the other monsters at this age. But that whole thing I mentioned above about watching for signs? I've done that all along. So, I think this year my letter to Santa would read something like this:

It's been a wild ride. It will continue to be a wild ride. But without the adventures in life, living would just be...boring! I'd rather have the roller coaster, with the long, slow climb to the top..knowing that I'll be screaming in terror and uncertainty when I'm flying down hill, but also knowing that going down hill will just get me that much closer to being safe and back on the ground. And I will have stories to share and experiences to learn from, just by having bought the ticket.

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head...

We've had a little rain in the last few days, and our entire county is flooding. One town has been evacuated as a dam threatens to break. My #2 and #3 monsters have been helping fill sand bags for the last few hours, and we've been glued to all the "Breaking News" bulletins.

So, because of all the drama and trauma with the weather here, today is officially a "stick with your family and watch the news" day.

Here's the latest from ksl.com with our situation. Our thoughts and prayers are with the citizens of Rockville who have been evacuated.  We'll update here as well, whenever there are changes.

The good news, however, is that Christmas vacation started early for the monsters, since the high school is flooded. They weren't due out until Wednesday afternoon. They are, understandably, thrilled with that part.  The  students and the boy scouts, as well as many many townspeople are filling sandbags and working with crews to battle the water. Farm tractors are driving up and down our street , helping wherever they are needed.

This is wild. That's just all there is to it.

Cookies, Monsters, and Currier & Ives

It's that time of the year. The time where it's bitter cold and ugly outside. Christmas vacation for the monsters is just a couple more days away, and I have visions of Currier and Ives in my head, rather than sugar plums. Somehow, I imagine quiet, Christmasy bliss when I look at Currier and Ives.  I don't know why. It just brings peace. What do YOU feel? See below:

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The Monsters have been begging for days to be able to bake cookies and treats.  I've put it off as long as I can. I just know how this is going to turn out. 

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So I'm thinking, maybe I can get "the little ones" ( that would be the monsterlettes and notorious #5) to let me read them a book and then get them down for a nap this afternoon before the baking adventure begins. Here's hoping. I wonder if our library has this book?

 

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 Come on now... you didn't REALLY think I would have used any OTHER book for the Monsters, do you??

What fun things will you be doing with YOUR monsters during Christmas vacation to keep them entertained? I'm thinking, if everyone leaves ONE thing in the comment section, by Christmas Eve, there will be oodles and gaboodles of fun things for everyone to try! 

 

Does your family have Christmas Eve traditions? This is what we do at the Monster House: everyone gets new pajamas, we sprinkle "Reindeer Food" all over the front lawn ( which is usually covered in a foot of snow by now. We're kinda worried about the lack of white, thus far), we leave out cookies for the Big Guy, and then we watch the marathon of A Christmas Story until about 1 in the morning until all the monsters are out cold. Then I carry them all to bed, and flag down Santa.

Recipe and instructions for "Reindeer Food"

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT! 

OK. Not really, but you know.... it was worth a try.

***********************

 1 cup oatmeal. Quaker is fine. Reindeer do not like the instant flavored stuff. I was fined last year.

1/4c glitter, or foil confetti  It helps the reindeer find the food when Rudolph's nose lights up, apparently. Also, it helps them to fly. Apparently.

9 baby carrots, or three carrots cut into 3 pieces each Whaddaya MEAN, "why?!" Ok. This is why. Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet,Cupid, Donner, Blitzen, and Rudolph. Count 'em up. And I swear on Ben and Jerry I did not need to look up even one of the reindeer names. I feel proud now. Please don't ask me to name the Seven Dwarves. I can't do it without cheating. I'm doing well to remember the Monsters' names, and *I* named 'em!

 

Mix all ingredients really REALLY well. If it doesn't snow where you live, keep the Reindeer food in the fridge until bedtime. They like it chilled. They come from the North Pole. At bedtime, sprinkle the reindeer food in the front yard, taking care NOT to dump it all in one pile and call it good. Reindeer do not share well. 

 

Don't have all the ingredients? This is an official. Big Guy authorized North Pole list of acceptable substitutions:

 

Oatmeal may be replaced with any of the following:

cheerios

quinoa flakes

Cap'N Crunch

Instant potato flakes

Froot Loops

Life Cereal

Glitter may be replaced with any of the following:

nine kisses blown at the bowl. The Reindeer will know if you skip this, or if you short them.

Cake Sprinkles

Rice

grated cheese 

plain M&Ms

Carrots may be replaced with any of the following:

apple slices

pineapple chunks

sections of oranges

DO NOT TRY TO USE BROCCOLI OR LETTUCE, Rudolph will dent your car, and your insurance will laugh and call you a liar when you try to file a claim. Not that I know from personal experience.

It's Daddy day, it's Daddy day!

The Daddy asked me to let y'all know he WILL be blogging, but more likely in the late afternoon or this evening. The dryer died and he's banging on it and cursing, running to the computer to research, running back to bang, curse, and research some more so he can try to fix it. Heaven knows this is NOT the time of year the checkbook appreciates buying a major appliance. ANYWAY. While you're waiting, I thought  I would take pity and entertain you. My monsters watch this video over and over and over. Literally, at least 15 times in a row while they all giggle hysterically.

Have a wonderful Sunday, and stay tuned on facebook or twitter to see when Daddy's post goes live!

Tales from a book worm: a bizarre marriage of books and food

I love to read. I read to calm down before sleeping. I read for research reasons. I read for entertainment. I become frustrated when I can't find a real book to learn about something for Logan, or the next in a series I am reading. And yes, I even have authors that are my favorites. I read EVERYTHING they write. 

I willingly and freely admit that I have an addiction to *GASP* "smut". I like the love story. I like the fairytale. Yes, I do know that none of this romantic fiction exists in real life. This would be why it's called "reading for entertainment". I'd rather read a book than go to a movie. I am a certified book worm with strong nerdy tendencies. 

I am also a food addict. I love to bake and cook and create wonderfully fabulous new things to eat. Here's my confession. I have not TRULY baked in almost a year. There is the occasional batch of Tollhouse cookies, or one of the monsters will whip up brownies from a mix. We did, of course have the whole pie experiment, but really, that wasn't baking as the Monster House knows it. I used to bake 5 days a week, everything from cookies, cakes, and pies to crackers. Yes. Crackers. 

The Daddy has taken my food allowance away and proclaimed himself the grocery shopping King, so I couldn't even start the Twelve Days of Bread. I think that was his master plan all along. And so.. I must read about deliciousness and culinary creations. This is how truly nerdy I am. 

Diane Mott Davidson is my book worm/ culinary skill hero. She writes CULINARY MYSTERIES! I heart this author! AND, she has recipes in the book. Oh, yeah. I gain weight just by reading. There are thirteen books in her Goldilocks series. I cannot encourage you enough to read them. Here's a little teaser:

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Another favorite author is Fern Michaels.  It's all about the revenge! She wrote the Sisterhood series, and holy cow, it will be a LIFETIME appreciation for me. This isn't revenge just for the sake of revenge. This is revenge, carefully planned and carried out by a group of women, against seriously disgusting atrocities. They measure out justice to the bad guys. AND THEY DON'T KILL THE BAD GUYS! I get all hyper and full of righteous indignation when I read these books. The Daddy gets a disgusted look on his face. Tee hee!!

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Okay. I think I'm done fantasizing about the books now. I have a stack of them to read this weekend. But I HAD to share. And if, by chance, I have peaked your curiosity and you want to check these books out yourself, the image links below the pics will hook you up! Or, just run down to your local library!

This just in....

Click here for a message from the monsters!

That is all.

 

I'm not asking you to care. I'm telling you.

Today, Logan's case coordinator for early intervention was here for the first time since October. Once again, this is my fault, because we've had the ongoing Black Death issue so I cancelled the November visit, and even though we are all sick YET AGAIN I didn't feel Logan could afford to miss another.

Even MORE verification that Logan has regressed. During this afternoon's visit there was stimming. There was "empty face". There was aggression. What talking Logan DID do was minimal, certainly there were never two words put together. He was signing for words he has known for months. 

Case coordinator absolutely agreed that the lack of OT was key in his regression, and further agreed that Logan's need is great. However, EI has still not hired one ( there just aren't any available for hire, it seems) and therefore they are outsourcing. But THESE OTs have private practices. THESE OTs will not travel. Doesn't make any difference that Logan is home bound. Doesn't matter that everyone agrees OT is needed.

Case coordinator can talk to the director, but it won't do anything. *I* can talk to the director, but there is some doubt as to whether that will make any difference. But, hey, would I mind taking video of Logan stimming and being aggressive and then email that video to case coordinator? Would I mind? WOULD I MIND?? Hmmm. Let me think about this. Uh. YEAH. I MIND!  I'm not going to let Logan be some kind of visual aid. Especially if he can't get what he needs from these people!

Oh, gosh. I am SO upset about all this. EI was so great until the OT quit in August. Now the whole thing is just one mess after another.

Tomorrow, the Friday before Christmas, I will be calling to harass the EI director.  Seriously, what timing.  But I refuse to let Logan slip through the cracks like this. OH! And when I cornered the case coordinator and said, hey~ Logan has been eligible for OT the whole time. He has missed out on FIVE MONTHS of this. So. Does he get an extension because this is was an EI problem? NOPE. Not even a one day extension. He's just going to be out of luck. Because "the state won't allow it".

I need suggestions. I need people that have been through this same thing. I need....I need my Logan back.

Berry Bombs and Big Daddy

Today you shall be spared the feverish thoughts of the Momma. You will not have to look at questions and decide whether or not to comment. This is because..... I'm visiting over at Big Daddy Autism today! To be honest, I forgot all about the guest post I wrote for him a couple of days after he visited. But hey... how cool is it that it's posting today, just in time to save you from another scary question of the day!

What? Are you still here reading? Scoot your mouse on over to the link up there ^ ^ ^. Click. OK. Really. You shouldn't still be here. Will it help to know that it's a funny notorious #5 story? Go! Be gone! Be neighborly and stuff. Clickety click click.

Feel free to tell me how wonderful and humorous and amazing I am in Big Daddy's comment section.  ;)

AN...TI...CI...PA-SHUN

We're dropping like flies here at the Monster House. #4, The Daddy, Momma, all have the Black Death version 2.0 and ( please no, please no, please no) the twinnie monsterlettes are getting the sniffles and a little cough. The only bad thing about being sick in type is that no one can hear your deep, painful cough, experience the chills and fever with you, watch the agony of sinus and chest congestion, or listen to your voice become lower and lower. I could be completely well and write about being sick, and no one would know. Except me. And trust me... I AM sick. Coughing until 3am, when I passed out with exhaustion, is not my idea of fun. 

ANYWAY.The question of the day. It was so fun to see your answers yesterday! *psssssssssssst... Hey, Big Daddy, I read your comment while eating dinner last night. Strangely enough... I was eating ham at the time! LOL

Jill, I really hope that the reason you're happy to get fresh air after being at your SILs house isn't because her home is cluttered with kitty fur, mold spores, or that special fragrance reserved only for previously owned adult diapers. *

The Question of the Day

As a child, what did you anticipate most about holidays? Not just Christmas, any holiday. For me, it was waking up really really early and gazing at all the wrapped presents and Santa loot under and around the lit tree, before anyone got to it and started shredding wrapping paper. I love that scene. I do it even still, now that I have my own monsters. There's something very "Courier and Ives" about it. 

OK. Tag. you're it. Let's see more of those answers! Hope all y'all are avoiding the plagues....er... black death..er.. whatever this nastiness it. 

 

Diary of a worn out woman

I'm sitting here this morning, in a very quiet house, trying to get past writers' block and find something amazing and profound to write about. It's just not working today. The Daddy has The Black Death version 2.0, and I got it late last night, as well. We're thinking the culprit is notorious #5, who stayed home from school all last week fevering and coughing. 

But the GOOD news in all of this is that once again we will ensure job security for the good people at Kimberly-Clark ( Kleenex),  Vicks (dayquil, NyQuil, humidifier vapor oil),  Tropicana (orange juice.. WITH pulp, please and thank you), Campbell's (double noodle chicken noodle soup),  Celestial Seasonings (lots and lots and LOTS of various herbal teas) and Breathe Right strips. There are nine people in this house. It is inevitable that everyone will get sick again as it cycles through.

And so, I shall keep it short and sweet, and borrow a page out of the book of GummyLump ( totally go visit their website it's one of my very most favorite places to go and browse a while), and ask you a "Question of the day". For as long as I am ill, there will be a question of the day, so that I will have something to write about the next day. You see how this works? Take pity on a sick woman, and play along. Thanks so much, in advance.

And now:  

The question of the day

What is your favorite Holiday smell? For me, it's Bayberry candles and the scent of Douglas Fir, and gingerbread in the oven. Not the kind you build houses with, but the kind that is cake, and piled high with real whipping cream.  All together, that smells like Christmas to me!

Here we go again....

Remember this? The Black Death? Well... apparently we didn't get enough of it in November, so it came back for another visit. The Daddy's dying wish was that I apologize to all y'all on his behalf, because if he had attempted to blog today, this is all you would have gotten:

Feel better soon, Daddy! And if you give it to the Momma (AGAIN), you should run for the hills! xoxo

I'll be home for Christmas......if only in my dreams.

I have to address something that has been bothering me since before Thanksgiving. As we all know, I have an overactive mothering gene. Well, really.. it's not like this is a shock. I have seven monsters, for crying out loud. BUT.. my mothering gene is SO overactive, I can't watch/read stories about abused kids because I want to run out and scoop them all up and take them home so I can love them to death. I want to significantly harm women who drop newborns in dumpsters, or leave five children under the age of eight at home with no food or electricity or supervision so they can go out and party/gamble/work the street corner. I feel strong urges to permanently damage dead beat dads.  

I am at my happiest when I am pushing food on people, and telling them to call me when they arrive home so I know they traveled safely. I like knowing where all my monsters are....at ALL TIMES ( this irritates them no end. I'm OK with that.). I send snacks with the monsters to sleep overs... just to make sure ALL the monsters at that sleepover won't starve to death over night. When people come to a Holiday dinner at my house, they just know they are going to leave with a gaboodle of leftovers, and it's going to be noisy and chaotic and full of family. I love every last minute of chaos that family get togethers bring. And this... this is why I am bothered by this thing.. since before Thanksgiving.

Around the beginning of November I started hearing about friends, fellow bloggers, and complete strangers on twitter or facebook, who had one or more children with special needs, who were being told NOT to attend their extended family's particular celebrations of choice. It was too much to handle, there was too much work involved in "dealing with" having special needs families there. "The others" didn't want to be made uncomfortable by looking at or observing a child's more obvious disabilities or learning delays.

And now.... now I'm gonna get my mad on. I'm be speaking directly to the moronic little toads that yanked back the welcome mats from here on out.

Just who do you people think you ARE? It's uncomfortable for you to see that a child in your extended family has a disability? Guess what?! The parents of that child get to live with that disability every day, and help with therapy, maintain special diets, monitor and assist with eating issues, doctors, assessments, and specialists,  struggle with lack of sleep issues, self harming, developmental delays, separation anxiety and a myriad of other things that you had no idea existed.

These parents are more educated in their child's special needs than many medical professionals. They need to know ~at the drop of a hat~  medications, dosages, allergies, medical providers, how to calm a nonverbal child, what to do during a seizure, how to survive on less than an hour of sleep a night not just during the newborn stage, but for YEARS. They need to keep a medical reference to their child in their heads so they can answer questions from EMTs, doctors, teachers, complete strangers, family, therapists, and others. 

And you don't want to be uncomfortable?! Many special needs parents need to know all about feeding tubes, breathing treatments, leg braces, and which shots will work when their child is ill. Do you think they get to say, "Oh, sorry. Can't do that. It makes me uncomfortable."

I admire these parents... friends of mine, respected fellow bloggers, and yes, I even admire the complete strangers. Because even though you may take parenting for granted, as I did after I had a few children and thought I knew all there was to know, these parents keep going. They learn what needs learned. They never give up. Even after enduring disgusting comments from friends, family, neighbors, and strangers. Even after being stared at, whispered about, and alienated.

How many times have you called, just to let your family member vent all the stress? How many times have you offered to babysit so your family member can rest? How many times have you offered to do the laundry, clean the kitchen, or grocery shop for them? Oh, please let me guess. Would that number be....ZERO?

How dare you have the audacity to further alienate these amazing people and their children because YOU don't have what it takes. That is a reflection on YOUR faults and lack of character. Not theirs.

And now... for all these parents I respect and admire. It would be an honor and a privilege to have ANY of you in my home. A truly joyful experience to have a "family" get together with you and yours, to laugh, eat, and play together. You are, indeed, my heroes. My best thoughts and wishes, my most fervent prayers for your happiness to you all this Christmas season. Consider yourself.... family.

Fruit does not belong in brownies

The other night I was searching for a recipe to fulfill my dreams of a chocolate hazelnut gfcfsfcfef brownie. Now. Let's be clear. When I envision brownies, I'm thinking of ooey gooey, fudgey deliciousness that should be sinful from the first bite to the last. 

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Oops. Sorry. Temporary ice cream addiction issue. Ahem. Right. Ooey gooey fudgy sinful deliciousness from the first bite to the last.  Like this:

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Now. I found oodles upon gaboodles of gfcfsfcfef hazelnut brownie recipes. I really, truly did! But the people that created these recipes are evil! They all had significantly disgusting ingredients like: softened, crushed up dates! And not just a little, either! Like, a cup and a half! How is that even remotely acceptable? Seriously, just because someone has to have a ridiculously strict diet doesn't mean we should force them to eat the icky stuff no one else will buy.

So, I found a brownie recipe from Babycake's online, and I think I will mess around with it this weekend and see what kind of trouble I can get into. They use "garfava" flour (ew), which I think I will replace with half hazelnut flour and half King Arthur gluten free flour mix, and the xanthan gum replaced with guar gum. I think I will also add some chopped hazelnuts. And top it with coconut milk ice cream. And fudge sauce. And more hazelnuts.  OK, shutting up now.

I have also heard rumors of Betty Crocker's GF line of mixes, but I'm betting I won't be able to purchase them for the Monster House because of xanthan gum, or corn flour, or other fun things, like soy. But I'll read the ingredients and let y'all know.

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Obsession, regression, depression

Today Logan had his first speech therapy session in over a month. This was mostly my fault because my memory of the entire month of November is nothing but a haze of humidifier mist, NyQuil, coughing, and fevers until about Thanksgiving. I called his providers and case coordinator and told them to stay away from the Black Death. They thanked me profusely.

I knew that Logan had been regressing, but I had managed to convince myself somehow that it wasn't really regression, but just my tendency to be a helicopter mom.Logan hadn't really forgotten how to say ball or book, or how to sign please and help. He was just being two, and exercising his right to be stubborn. 

We haven't gotten Occupational Therapy through early intervention since late August /early September. That's when Trevor quit, and they have yet to get another OT. Logan has been having meltdown after meltdown after meltdown. There is no reasoning with him. The leg starts kicking, the screaming reaches the pitch that makes most dogs whine, and you just know that you're going to be on this roller coaster ride until his voice wears out, we find a random piece of gum, or the Daddy gets home.

Today, the meltdown included Logan hitting and biting himself as well as his brother. It scares me.This was our"hippie" baby. Our very non-aggressive, non-seeker child who had a smile at the ready for nearly anyone. The child that never threw a fit about going to bed, taking meds, or having his diaper changed. I don't know the child that is now inhabiting Logan's body. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know without a shadow of a doubt that Logan needs his OT. STAT!!

In June, Logan will be 3. Does that mean that even though early intervention did not have an OT for several months to help Logan,  we are just out of luck for that time when he should have received services, or can we ask for an extension?

Last September, I was told that if Logan were to have been diagnosed THEN, he would not qualify as autistic~ he had made that much progress. Now? There is no question. He would absolutely be diagnosed with autism. Everyday he is a different child. There is no more consistency. There is no more routine that we can count on. Everything is a fight ~eating, getting dressed, play time, nap time, "reading" books together. 

I wonder if I will ever see the Logan I know again. The Daddy insists that it's just terrible twos showing up. I can't agree with that. Even with the tantrums that Terrible Twos are known for, there is always some semblance of the child within from time to time. Logan is a puzzle now. I know, I know. Autism is a puzzle. But....... I want my baby back.

The twelve days of bread are coming!

Okay, all you lucky people! The Twelve Days of Bread event at the Monster House is getting ever closer, and I have no, nada, zip, zilch, zero ( ok.. now my tongue feels all buzzy from the z's)suggestions, or recipes from the peanut gallery( that would mean, YOU.. the one in front of the monitor, reading all this). 

December 14 is the first day of Christmas..er..bread. That's exactly one week from yesterday. So. Here's what I need to know: 

• Do you purchase gfcf breads/bread products from a store? What is your brand of choice?
• Do you make your own gfcf breads/bread products at home? What's your favorite recipe?
• Do you really, honest and for true, think that the bread products you buy/make taste good?
• Do you use mixes purchased from a store? What brands do you prefer?
• Be honest, now. How many of you have never tasted the gfcf breads because they look wrong?

OK. That's a good start. If everyone that reads this blog post comments, then I'll have plenty of suggestions to refer to. (hint, hint, hint)

Yesterday while I was napping, I dreamt that I came up with a decadent, heavenly, ooey gooey brownie made with hazelnut flour. I don't know why. But it sounds good, no? ;)

Take Cover, She's Gonna Blow!!!

I declare today to be selfish blog day. Mark your calendars: Tuesday, December 7, 2010 is the first annual LwL Selfish Blog Day. I am, in fact, feeling sorry for myself, and the Daddy is tired of hearing about it, so you, my dear followers and random readers, get to hear all about it.... kind of.

I am tired of people asking if I am premenstrual and/or pregnant. Probably this means I should adjust my attitude and start exercising, but I just don't wanna.

I am tired of being surrounded by Christmas happiness and light even before Thanksgiving, knowing that some of my monsters have a father that frankly does not care, who will not be sending even a Christmas card to monsters 1- 4 this year. He sent #1 an EMAIL to drop that little tidbit. My monsters are sad and THAT has made me stabbity. Idiot ex, are you READING THIS??? I have so many new words to use regarding you.

I am tired of having high blood pressure for the last two weeks, when I have had low blood pressure my ENTIRE life.

I am tired of searching and searching and searching for gfcfsfef cookies/breads/pizza crusts etc. to bake for Christmas that the entire family will enjoy, so Logan can have treats, too. There are thousands of recipes out there, and I have yet to find a gfcf chocolate chip cookie to rival a Tollhouse. And that crankifies me. And makes me sad, because dang it, LOGAN DESERVES CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES TOO!!

I am tired of hearing "I want this" and "I want that" from the monsters regarding Christmas, and knowing that the budget this year may not stretch as far as it needs to.

I'm not going to apologize for any of this. Here's why: So very many people have told me that they are envious of  my "amazing attitude" and how smoothly things seem to run at the Monster House.It just ain't so. I'm a normal human being with an above average number of children, operating on an average annual income for most families of 4 or 5. 

I'm just worn out. I don't know what it is about December that just amps up the stabbity crankiness. And my blood pressure, and my complete certainty that I will not last the month without having a stroke and/or heart attack. Someone out there PLEASE tell me I'm not the only one...

And lastly, because it is the most important. If even ONE more person consoles me, or my children, or the Daddy because we have Logan, I WILL BLOW!!!

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Love of an Elevator

When frazzledmomma asked me to guest post on Living with Logan I knew I couldn't refuse.  I mean, she has seven kids.  I just had to help her out.  I've been blogging about life with my 13 year old autistic son for a few months now. Early on, my posts got no lovin because I had no readers. So, for this guest post appearance, I decided to pull out a post I am particularly proud of which went up on my blog real early on.  Please enjoy .....

Love of an Elevator

No matter how fun we try to make sports seem, Griffin always returns to his true love – elevators.  I bet you didn’t know there are various sites on the internet dedicated exclusively to riding elevators.  That’s right, type in the word “elevator”, and you will find that there are people who travel the world filming themselves riding elevators.  More than a few of these folks post their videos on You Tube  and get thousands of hits.   Little do they know that most of these hits are coming from our play room.

Several of these elevator aficionados give themselves clever nicknames and get creative with their filmmaking techniques. I am sure none of them has a bigger fan than Griffin.  He watches the lift jockeys riding elevators in strip malls, department stores, hotels, office buildings, parking garages, colleges, hospitals, and airports.  He talks about his favorite elevator filmmaker’s work as if it were as important as Spielberg making Schindler’s List.  It is going to be difficult to break it to Griffin that, somehow, the academy overlooked Elevator Farts in its Oscar nominations again this year.

Watching videos of elevators is not nearly as satisfying for Griffin as actually riding in them.  We make trips to malls, office parks and tall buildings for the sole purpose of surfing the vertical tube.  He emulates the style of his favorite heroes when pushing the buttons and almost always comments on the décor and condition of the elevator car.

On a recent elevator safari to the local mega mall, we had to travel through the Woman’s Lingerie Department in Macy’s to get to the elevator.  As though he was seeing the bra clad mannequins for the first time, Griffin exclaimed loudly,

“Oooh.  Macy’s sells boobies!?! Do you believe that?!?”

Upon reaching the elevator, Griffin channels his inner Captain Elevator and launches into his narration:

“Wow!  That was a great hallway.  I am now pushing the 'Up' button.  Here comes the elevator.  Ooh!  It is a very nice elevator.  It is a General.  Time to push the button for the 2nd floor.  I am now pressing the 'Door Close' button. The door is closing.  Here we go.  It smells funny in here.  Here we come to the 2nd floor.  I am so sweaty.  Here we are.”

Sometimes we get strange looks and sneers from other passengers who are used to the silence people customarily observe when riding an elevator.  But the smile on his face and the pure joy Griffin gets from this simple pleasure is worth every leer and snicker.

I would love to say that the mouth breathing Neanderthals who judge Griffin without knowing him don’t bother us at all, but we are human.  By now, we should easily be able to shrug this sort of thing off.

Mrs. Big Daddy usually replies to the idiots who are visibly taken aback by Griffin’s love of elevators by declaring,

“It’s cheaper than taking him to Disney World!”

Big Daddy is the genius behind bigdaddyautism.com.  He spends his days Tweeting, enjoying his kids, doing crossword puzzles, riding elevators, yelling at the TV, thinking about what to eat for lunch, and trying to get his humorous book about his autistic son published.  He has several very nice tattoos which his mother pretends don’t exist.

Two Girls, Five boys: Challenges of being a girl at the Monster House.

Today's blog is by my girl monsters, #1(she's 16, and my right hand man) and #4( she's ten, and knows how to get what she wants). Everyone show them some love in the comment section, please. They're all excited about blogging today.

Mom said I could talk about the challenges of living in the monster house.........well I guess being the oldest monster is kinda tough and I have to have more difficult responsibilities. but when you think about it, just about every eldest in America has more responsibility  so I really can't complain. As for being one of two girls; I like to think of it as a leg up. the boys don't have a chance. muwahahahahahah!!!! jk lol
p.s. I'm a teenage girl, if you didn't expect that last line you need to do some homework

                            

Well mom said I could write on the blog! it is exciting i guess. living at the MONSTER HOUSE is  a little strange i guess u could say.Logan & Colton are truly and simply adorable thay turn my froun upside down my other bros (#2,#3,and #5) not so much, because #2 always squeezes me in the sides and it drives me crazy.#3 because he never plays with me* Rude huh!And last but not least 5 it is because he always  shrieks in me ear!
*he used to but not any more* hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah soooooooo i guess that is my post BYE );

Elvira is a Christmas song

Years and years and years ago...OK, wait. This is already not going well. Let's begin again. When the Momma was just a monsterlette ( yes, it's genetic), her Pappy started a Christmas Eve tradition. There were seven of us monsters (sounds familiar, doesn't it?) and because of that, we had the Scary Family Room of Death. The thing is, Santa doesn't come to a dirty house. And it was Christmas Eve. My monster siblings and I were having heart palpitations when Pappy dropped that little tidbit. Whaddaya MEAN Santa doesn't come to a dirty house? Our visions of sugar plums deflated like a four day old balloon. So Pappy tossed on an Oak Ridge Boys RECORD( yes, record. They are big and black and the great granpappy of the CD), cranked up the volume, and put the needle on Elvira. 

My monster siblings and I had a dang good time racing to get that Family Room clean before the end of the song. We had never heard Oom Poppa Oom Poppa Oom Poppa Mow Mow before in our lives, and we thought that was the most hysterical thing EVER. As I recall ( Pappy, I know you're reading this, so correct me if I'm wrong), we made Pappy play it over and over while we danced and acted like general idiots. We continued that tradition throughout the years, and now it is a Monster House Christmas song. Yes, really. My own monsters think I have lost my mind, but it will remain a Christmas song as long as I have breath in my body. So there. The Momma has spoken. Typed. Whatever....

Fast forward a year or two to last night. I got to see the Oak Ridge boys live, in concert, with my Pappy. It was the ultimate in Daddy/daughter dates. The show was a class act, and one that I would have had absolutely NO qualms about taking my monsters to see. It was so incredible to have that with my Pappy (Mom and the monster sis were there, too) on the first day of December, carrying on the tradition of Elvira for Christmas. And,holy cow, those Oak Ridge Boys have still got it!

I took video of a lot of that concert, and yes, I got Elvira, and Thank God for Kids, and even the part where Santa came and gave all   -ALL-    the kids in the audience a little gift.. These men are incredible not only for their singing talent and success, but also because their priorities are in order. The entire experience was a pleasure, and when we left the happiness lasted. We couldn't stop talking about it. This wasn't no Britney Spears experience. Thank God for THAT!

Tonight they'll be in Boise, Idaho. If you're anywhere near there, GO SEE THEM!!! I promise you won't regret it.