Are we the only family that has to keep the ketchup locked up?

Schedules

I've been wanting to tell you about GL's transition to the public school, but I haven't had much time to write. One thing we insisted on in his IEP was that he start out with one class period per day and gradually work up to a full day. I'm sure he's capable of a full day, but he's not capable of making such a big transition all at once. He is now up to about a half day, but because of scheduling complications, he starts school at a different time every day of the week.

On top of that, his school has numerous late starts and early dismissals built into their calendar. There's a minimum of one late start and one early dismissal per month, but most months have more. October has many more. A late start can be a two hour delay or a three hour delay. A scheduled early dismissal is a half day. There was an unscheduled early dismissal in early October so students could pay their respects to a teacher who had been killed in a motorcycle accident. IIRC, school let out an hour and a half early that day. On the days they have a late start or early dismissal, all classes still meet, but the class periods are shortened. I have three pages of charts to read to figure out what time to take him to school and what time to pick him up each day.

Today, I misread the schedule. On Thursdays, he has only one class, which meets second period. We arrived at the same time as all the other students. I checked and found out that today was a two hour delay. There was no place we could hang out for an hour, so we had to walk back home, wait half an hour, and walk back to school. Naturally, this did not sit well with GL. He handled it admirably, but I'm sure we'll pay for it later.

Sometimes you just have to laugh

Mama Bear was among those cut yesterday. She took it well. We had anticipated it, and she had been talking about looking for another job already. Not so for most of the people who lost their jobs. The idea of layoffs caught them by surprise, and they were even more surprised at who was let go. It did not go by seniority. Some people who had been there for over thirty years heard for the first time that there would be cutbacks and were out of work the same day. So far, my parents still have their jobs. We are waiting to hear whether they will be re-assigned.

Earlier this week, we took the car in for emissions testing, required here to renew the plates, which expire next month. They used to test by sticking a probe up the tailpipe, stepping on the gas, and measuring the exhaust. It was every bit as fun as it sounds. A few years ago, they switched to a system where they plug their computer into the car's computer, and the computer tells them you failed. Then you take the car to your mechanic, who plugs it into his computer to find out what the problem is. Sometimes, he can just reset your computer, and it will pass. Other times, it takes expensive repairs. Even if all he does is reset the computer, there is a minimum $100 charge for connecting your car to the the computer, in addition to the cost of any repairs. It's all a scheme to try to get fewer people to drive cars.

As long as we have owned this car, the Check Engine light has been on most the time. It runs fine, the computer just isn't happy. We've taken it in for repairs, and every time they corrected the problem the computer was complaining about, the light went out, but came back on within a week. It also randomly goes out for a few days and comes back on. Whenever we were due for emissions testing, we waited for the light to go out, then hurried down to the testing station. It usually passed. This time, the light went out about two months before we were due for testing, and stayed out. When we took the car in for testing, they had a new rule: if the Check Engine light doesn't come on when they turn the key, you automatically fail. If  the light comes on and stays on you fail. If the computer is having a bad day, you fail. In any case, you have to pay $100 to hook it up to the computer, spin the wheel, and see what you've won. Let's see, Bob, what's it going to cost me to register my car this year?

We've owned this car for ten years, and it wasn't new when we bought it. It has nearly 300,000 miles on it. It has run very well for us, and we were hoping to get one more year out of it, because we really can't afford to replace it just now. So we'd made an appointment to drop our car off for repairs the day Mama Bear lost her job. We dropped it off anyway, because you need a car to look for work at least as much as you need one to get to work. There is no public transportation in this town. (That's a good thing, by the way. Why is a story for another day.) The Check Engine light was out because...


the bulb had burnt out. The computer also said we had a bad catalytic converter (this car has two of them, at $700 each) but after a reset, all the codes cleared, and we passed, all for the low, low price of $181, not counting the $75 registration fee. That's one expensive light bulb.

So Mama Bear got a ride into town to pick up the car. She took GL, because he has been begging and whining for an adventure. That means riding in the car and getting something to eat. Since she was going  into town anyway, gas wasn't a problem, but teenage boys are expensive to feed at fast food restaurants, and whatever you offer him, he tries to negotiate up. She managed to talk him down to a visit to the big city library, which he's been asking for lately because they have several times the DVD selection of our local library. She just needed to stop at a couple of stores first. When they came out of the first store, the car wouldn't start. She called AAA. They had her describe the symptoms and put her cell phone in various places while trying to start it. Diagnosis: dead battery. It had a full and productive life, may it rest in peace. (Or be recycled into an equally reliable battery at an affordable price.)

They sent out a truck to give her a jump start, but estimated a 45 minute wait. In a car with a dead battery. In the middle of an asphalt parking lot. On a warm, sunny day in the middle of July. With GL already sputtering, "But-but-but, we didn't go to the library yet!" She called me, but I couldn't do anything because she had the car. I called around, but couldn't find her a ride. So they waited.

In the mean time, I called around to find out who had the battery we needed in stock for a reasonable price. That turned out to be Sears, at $64.98 for their bargain battery. When AAA showed up, they got the car started right away, then offered to sell her a Super Duper Battery for $125. When she politely declined, the man said, "But this battery comes with a six-year guarantee! If it fails in six years, we'll bring you a new battery for free!" Um, we weren't planning on keeping the car that long.

Goldilocks Visits the Dentist

I took GL to the dentist yesterday. Today I'm recovering. Actually, the dental checkup itself wasn't as bad as I'd feared. Our dentist is the gentlest, kindest, most engaging man I’ve ever met. He reminds me of Mr. Rogers. Goldilocks absolutely loves him. When he knows he has an appointment, he says, “I get to visit Dr. N., my dentist? Hooray!” and runs to the car.

But it wasn’t always this way. At first, Dr. N. was not sure he could handle a patient with autism. He referred him to a “pediatric/special needs” dentist who he said would give him a sedative. He teaches at the state university dental school, but he didn’t feel comfortable prescribing a sedative, because he felt that was outside his area of expertise.

The “pediatric/special needs” dentist was horrible. She refused to give the sedative she had promised, and instead, put her knee on his chest and told Mama to hold his legs, all the while scolding him for being “naughty”. He was so terrified, she couldn’t even do a basic exam. Mama Bear promised Goldilocks he would never have to go see that mean lady again.

When we reported this to Dr. N., he was shocked, and said he would never refer anyone to her again. He also agreed to give Goldilocks a chance. He scheduled him for a slow time of day with his gentlest, most patient hygienist. At the end, he came in, introduced himself, shook hands, and sent GL home with a big bag of trinkets. With each visit, he did a little more of his usual exam, eventually working up to a cleaning, complete exam, and x-rays.

But Dr. N is retiring. For the last several months, he's been gradually turning his practice over to Dr. G. She's been seeing more and more of his patients, and he's been gradually reducing his hours. He's down to 1-2 days a week. And GL doesn't like change. So at the end of his last visit, we scheduled this visit on a day both dentists would be in. On the way to the dentist office, I told him that Dr. N had a friend, Dr G, who is also a dentist. She is very nice, and she works on my teeth. Would he like to meet her? He thought he would. Alerting him to upcoming changes is a delicate balance. His anxiety is increased by both too little notice and too much.

GL giggled during his cleaning. He said it tickled. But he held my left hand so tight, I had to switch to my right, because my wedding ring was cutting into my finger. Then he started moaning. The hygienist was worried, until we figured out that he was singing.  Occasionally he'd forget to keep his mouth open, so I'd say "Ahh" to remind him. So he started singing "Ahh-ah-ah-ah!" I said he sounded like Tarzan. He started beating on his chest. The hygienist laughed, and asked him if he liked swinging on vines. He laughed, and said he did.

After his cleaning, Dr. G came in to meet him. He wouldn't make eye contact, or even look in her direction, but he shook her hand and talked to her, which is a step. Then Dr. N came in and did the exam. He and GL joked about Tarzan. Dr. N keeps bird feeders outside his exam room windows. It gives patients something to look at, and helps them relax. GL looked at the birds and said, "Hey, birds! Here are some cookies!"  I explained that he was quoting Frog and Toad. Dr. N said, "That's one of my favorite books. My wife says I'm a little like Toad."

He shook our hands and left, and the hygienist came back to give GL a fluoride treatment. He handled it pretty well, despite being tired of having so many hands and tools in his mouth. At one point, he yelled, "Hey, birds!" Come get your fluoride treatment!"

All the way home, he kept asking if we could go to the library for DVDs. We did have to make one other stop first, but that boy cannot take yes for an answer! At the library, he followed his usual routine: As soon as he was in the door, he yelled, "Hey, librarian, do you have anything in for me?" Then he threw his returns on the counter and ran back to to the children's DVDs without waiting for an answer. Sigh. We're working on it. Really.

Last several visits, he's had a new problem. He grabs three or four DVDs and runs back to the circulation desk to see if he has anything in. If he does, he leaves me to check out, and goes back to grab a few more books or DVDs. If he doesn't, he yells at the librarian, and then runs back and grabs as many DVDs as he can carry. He'll keep running back and grabbing more if I don't stop him. It's not like he watches all the DVDs he checks out. Every day, he insists the discs he checked out the day before are old, (even if he hasn't watched them) and he needs new ones. Since we only live two blocks from the library, and walking to the library is the only way I can get him to exercise, we go every day it's open. Even though he checks out the same DVDs over and over, they are "new" each time, and he is satisfied for the rest of that day.

Even the most patient and understanding librarian, who doesn't mind scanning ten DVDs every day, even though she knows he doesn't watch them all, wants him to leave enough DVDs for others to check out. So I've been making him choose some, and put the rest back. This time, he started screaming at me. And the librarian. About how we were taking all his DVDs away. About how we would never let him go to the library, ever, ever again. We were done checking out, so I hustled him toward the door, while he screamed all the way. As we were going out, we met the head librarian coming in. She reminded GL to zip his coat, because it was cold outside. He yelled at her, too. Outside, he kept screaming at me. About how I took all his DVDs. (Never mind the two bags he was carrying.) About how I would never let him go back to the library. About how he needed to go back right now, and apologize to the librarians. He usually "apologizes" by screaming at people. Not today, Zurg! Once I got him across the highway, I walked away. He can cross the less busy intersections on his own. He chased me, but even chasing someone, he doesn't walk very fast. He continued screaming at the whole world, but it was easier to tolerate from ten yards away. I did watch for traffic when he crossed. There wasn't any. Once we got home, he asked me to put on a DVD, and eventually calmed down.

Coming Soon! and the Horrible Holidays

GL loves to go to the library and check out DVDs. He asks to go every day. Since it's only two blocks away, I usually take him. I don't trust him to cross the street by himself. I also don't trust him in the library by himself. Of course, he checks out his favorite movies over and over, but his favorite parts are the commercials and the bonus features. He'll frequently tell us about this or that movie that's "Coming too soon on video and DDD!"

The library was closed Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and Sunday. As jillsmo says, Yeah. Good Times. Meltdowns every day. Mama Bear had Christmas Eve off. In exchange, she had to work Christmas Day. I don't remember much about what we did during each day, but it revolved around trying to calm GL. You know how some Catholics / Lutherans / Baptists / whatever only attend church on Easter Sunday and Christmas Eve?  Since GL's diagnosis,   I've become sort of a reverse Catholic. Those are the two times I don't go. He doesn't handle crowds well, and I'm not too keen on them, myself. Brother Bear had asked if he could be in the Christmas program this year, so Mama Bear agreed to take him.

We went to church as a family Christmas Day. Although it's one of the holiest days of the church year, our church and many others don't hold services on Christmas Day. Some get around it by having midnight Mass, so it's technically Christmas Day by the time it's over. But ours has it's Christmas Eve service at 5:00 p.m. so everyone can get their kids to bed on time. So one day a year, we are Lutheran. Actually, I was confirmed Lutheran a few years back, when I had to work every Sunday and they were the only church in town that had a service at a time I could attend. The pastor still recognized me when we walked in the door, remembered my name, where we live, and what kind of car we drive. It's a small town.

Mama Bear went to work that afternoon, and the rest of the day was quiet. Well, as quiet as it ever gets around here. I had a project I wanted to work on in the basement, but every time I went downstairs, the boys would fight. I don't remember why I couldn't bring BB down with me, but the basement is where we keep everything that GL might hurt or that might hurt him. We keep the door locked, because we don't trust him in the basement.

We had planned to go to church Sunday, but MB had worked an overnight, and was too tired, and I didn't feel up to taking GL to church by myself. So the boys continued to fight, and MB tried to sleep. We had a family gathering Sunday afternoon because that was the compromise worked out with the various in-laws and out-laws. We gave GL his extra med and headed to my parents' house. When we arrived, he immediately began yelling at Nana that he wanted to watch PBS Kids on her computer. Her computer was down. He started banging on the windows, saying he was going to break them. She took him for a walk outside, and he calmed down a bit. Whenever he started getting worked up, someone would take him for a walk, and he'd calm down for a while. We managed to visit for about two hours, including dinner. By then, he was yelling, pounding on windows, and trying to hit people, and there was no calming him. He needed to go home, but he didn't want to leave. He wouldn't go out to the car, he wouldn't put on his shoes, and he wouldn't let me put them on. I thought my brother, the firefighter, would have to carry him out, but at the last minute, he decided to walk out to the car in his sock feet. He raged all the way home, and didn't calm down until bedtime. He's been getting up between two and six most mornings lately, and waking people up for company. He was up at three a.m. one morning last week. He turned on the lights and started yelling at his brother to get up and play with him. This morning, he slept until 9:20. I let him.

Today we went to the library for DVDs. GL followed his usual routine. As he walked in the door, he shouted, "Hey, librarian, do I have anything in? You check, and I'll be in the DVD section, looking for DVDs!" He dropped his DVDs on the counter, and ran back to the kids' DVDs. As we were checking out, I commented that we survived three days without the library. The librarian smiled. She knows we're doing the best that we can. But she couldn't resist adding, "I had three days without the library, and I liked it just fine!"

GL answered, loudly as always, "On Christmas, I yelled at my grandmother, and I had to go home."

I hate holidays. They bring out the worst in people, especially GL, because they disrupt his routine. We have worked very hard to make our celebrations low-key, but they are still often more than he can handle. It's fine if other people want to take the day off, but why do we have to?

Bah! Humbug!

I hate holidays. They bring out the worst in people. GL has been screaming and pounding on the walls for hours at a stretch for two days now, yelling, "I want my Christmas presents now, now, now,  now NOOOOOWW!!!"

Once in a while, he'll throw in something memorable, like, "Christmas is never coming! I waited for half an hour!"

And we can't even laugh, because that makes him worse.

Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.

The Accidental Expert, over at Raising Complicated Kids complains, and rightly so,

"Whoever said 'God only gives you what you can handle' has clearly never stepped foot in my house.  If they had, they would have just shut up.  At least I wish they would."  

When someone says that God won't give me more than I can handle, I look them in the eye and say, "I believe God does give me more than I can handle, and He does it intentionally." I let them squirm a minute, and then explain, "Because if He didn't, why would I need Him?"

Recognizing Autism

Unlike most children with autism, GL did not develop symptoms before age three. He didn't have terrible twos. He was happy and precocious. Nothing bothered him. But shortly after his third birthday, something new began. He would occasionally, and for no apparent reason, turn into:

None of the usual methods of dealing with tantrums had the least effect. (They worked fine for BB.) At first, we could usually distract him, calm him, and then deal with whatever had set him off. But he became harder and harder to distract, his rages seemed to come out of nowhere, and it got harder and harder to discern what, if anything had set him off. In between times, he was his usual lovable self, but as these rages became more frequent, intense, and lengthy (45 minutes to an hour was not uncommon) it seemed like there was a tiger loose, and GL came out to play less and less often. When we finally got a diagnosis (shortly after his 7th birthday) we were able to get medication to help control these outbursts. It was like putting the tiger back in the cage, so GL could come out to play more often.

Since then, that's been a pretty good measure of how well his meds are working: Tiger time vs. GL time. The quality of the event hasn't changed; he's just gotten bigger, stronger, and more coordinated. He's five feet tall and 120 lbs. He pounds on walls, doors, and people. (We try to keep him away from windows.) We just came through a couple weeks of GL melting down twice a day, and even with medication these meltdowns were lasting over an hour. We got his meds adjusted this week, and things seem to be smoothing out. We'll see.

A Day at the Beach

This sounded so much like GL, I just had to share: A Lazy Afternoon Exfoliating at the Autism Day Spa.
And if the picture doesn't show up, (it didn't for me) look here.

Treading Water

I feel like I've been treading water the last few weeks, and I'm only halfway through. I will only be home one weekend in August and one in September. Like Jonathan Bing, "home's the best place for all people like me." During the week, I'm trying to re-establish some semblance of routine and illusion of order. BB is driving me to distraction. He's not uncooperative, his mind's just not on his work. It's been a constant struggle, but it seems to be worse lately.

GL has had relatively few meltdowns, but they've been big ones. Yesterday, he wasn't calming down, even with medication. He went for nearly two hours. I almost took him to the hospital. That evening, I had to take him with me to Civil Air Patrol because our sitter was out of town. I couldn't miss that meeting because I was teaching a class. It was close enough to bedtime that I gave him his bedtime med as soon as we got there. He was relatively quiet, if a little goofy. I was still uneasy about bringing him, but I had no other option. Then today was Goldilocks vs. the Dentist.

On the lighter side, Understanding my son posted Coming Full Circle. Be sure to follow the link, Duh! to the earlier post, Teaching Sass. And Arby posted a children's story with a happy ending that made me laugh out loud. As Mama Bear said, "Don't read Arby when you've got to pee!"

Goldilocks vs. the Dentist

Part One: Terror in the Chair (Holy or Unholy)

The dread kids with autism feel at the thought of going to the dentist, and the dread their parents feel at the thought of taking them have been well described by Tim at Both Hands and a Flashlight. And no matter how we handle it, we're going to feel guilty.

Our dentist is the gentlest, kindest, most engaging man I’ve ever met. He reminds me of Mr. Rogers. Goldilocks absolutely loves him. When he knows he has an appointment, he says, “I get to visit Dr. N., my dentist? Hooray!” and runs to the car.

But it wasn’t always this way. At first, Dr. N. was not sure he could handle a patient with autism. He referred him to a “pediatric/special needs” dentist who he said would give him a sedative. He teaches at the university dental school, but he didn’t feel comfortable prescribing a sedative, because he felt that was outside his area of expertise.

The “pediatric/special needs” dentist was horrible. She refused to give the sedative she had promised, and instead, put her knee on his chest and told Mama to hold his legs, all the while scolding him for being “naughty”. He was so terrified, she couldn’t even do a basic exam. Mama Bear promised Goldilocks he would never have to go see that mean lady again.

When we reported this to Dr. N., he was shocked, and said he would never refer anyone to her again. He also agreed to give Goldilocks a chance. He scheduled him for a slow time of day with his gentlest, most patient hygienist. At the end, he came in, introduced himself, shook hands, and sent GL home with a big bag of trinkets. With each visit, he did a little more of his usual exam, eventually working up to a cleaning, complete exam, and x-rays.

But on his last visit, Dr. N. found a cavity. Next visit will be GL’s first filling. Dr. N. is willing to try it, but is still not ready to prescribe a sedative. GL has his daily meds, plus an extra Trazadone tablet to be given PRN, and we’re going to try it with that.

When GL had stitches, it took four men to hold him down, and he was two years old! Now he’s thirteen. Once, after surgery, he had a bad reaction to morphine. The doctor said not to give him any more morphine, but wouldn’t start a new pain med until the last dose of morphine was out of his system–and they had just given it. He got so upset, he stood on the femur that had just been sawn through that morning. Desperate, the nurses put a bolus of valium in his IV. Have you ever watched an animal be put to sleep? We had a cat once that was dying and in misery. Mom wanted to be certain he was out of his misery, but couldn’t bear to watch. She asked me to take him in, and watch to be certain he was dead. GL’s response to the valium looked exactly like that. It was frightening, disturbing even. But when he awoke, he was calm, and they were able to give him a different pain med.

All this to say, medication makes me uneasy, but compared to GL’s meltdowns, or seeing the “pediatric/special needs” dentist again, (which would bring on a meltdown, if not in her office, once we got home) temporarily drugged out of his mind doesn’t sound so bad. But I’d rather have the Versed they gave him before surgery. About an ounce of liquid in a dose cup, and it apparently didn’t taste too bad, but once it started working, although he was quite awake and alert, when they asked if they could take his Game Boy away, he didn’t care.

Part Two: In which we Hope to Avoid the loss of anyone's Teeth or Fingers

Today was filling day. Before he left the house, I gave GL his bedtime meds, plus everything else we’ve been told we could safely give him. Ever notice how it doesn’t feel as safe when it’s your kid? But I didn’t know what else I could do. Mama Bear took him to the dentist. I had to promise to take him to the library for DVDs afterward before he would get in the car. I stayed home with BB, who has been having issues of his own.

MB said that GL didn’t yell or fight, but Dr. N. seemed nervous about the whole thing. GL spent the whole time worrying aloud, which made Dr. N. more nervous. GL tolerated the needle fairly well. MB gave everything less-threatening-sounding names, which helped a lot. So the needle was only a “pinch” that would make his tooth “tingle” not “sleep”, and the drill was only a “scraper”. I know it sounds like lying to the kid, but to him, names are everything, and the wrong name can send him into a panic far worse than the procedure itself can.

Near the end of the drilling, GL hopped out of the chair and said, “I’m done!” Only those who know him very well can appreciate the finality that phrase carries. That’s when Dr. N. looked Really Panicked. You just can’t leave a tooth like that. Since they were past the point of no return, MB resorted to bribery, something we desperately try to avoid, because no matter what you offer, GL always tries to negotiate for more. She offered to take him to the store to buy a DVD. He got back in the chair, and let Dr. N. finish drilling and filling as quickly as he could, hoping GL wouldn’t change his mind again. Dr. N. was embarrassed, saying this wasn’t his best work, but it should hold.

MB found a boxed set of all three Stuart Little movies for $10. I hope he doesn’t expect three DVDs next time he needs a filling, but it was enough to keep him busy until bedtime. Still, he kept coming to me with sad, tired eyes, asking to go to the library for more DVDs. I told him I’d take him when he finished watching these, knowing that won’t be until tomorrow, when we were planning to go anyway.

Meltdown

You've all seen tantrums in two-year-olds. A meltdown is to a temper tantrum what a major hurricane is to a gentle rain with occasional gusts of 20 mph wind. There are qualitative differences as well. GL had a meltdown today.

Reasonably good training by a parent or caregiver largely eliminates tantrums in most children before they reach school age. They may still try the tactic on occasion, but strong social disapproval usually extinguishes the behavior even with especially bad training. In children with autism, however, while careful management, hyper-vigilance for triggers, and medication can help reduce the frequency of meltdowns, they cannot eliminate them. This introduces new difficulties as the child grows older and social expectations increase. Picture a 5', 120 lb. 13 yo throwing himself on the floor in the middle of Wal-Mart and throwing what looks like the mother of all tantrums, cubed, and think of the level of social disapproval directed at both the child and his parents. Thankfully, as he has grown, more of GL's meltdowns have happened at home.

When GL was younger, a meltdown would deprive him of the ability to process any form of verbal input. We had a friend studying to be an ASL interpreter, and she came to our house to give the family weekly lessons. Sometimes when he couldn't process speech, he could understand if I signed to him, even if he couldn't sign or speak coherently at the moment. Now he understands most of what people say during a meltdown, but can't respond rationally. Imagine all the anger a 13 yo is capable of, combined with the verbal skills of an 8 yo, and the reasoning of a 2 yo in mid-tantrum. He screams the most inappropriate things he can think of at volumes that can be heard down the block. Things like, "Help! Call 911!" "You're hurting me!" or, like today, "Get off me!" even when there's no one in the room. He also imagines the most bizarre and horrific punishments, and screams, "Don't _____!"

Even at home, with the doors and windows closed, we imagined the neighbors could hear, and worried about what they might be thinking. Today, we found out they could. I had taken the car into town to run some errands, and GL decided it was time to go to the beach. It was not time to go to the beach. We try not to let him dictate our schedule, and when we need to change it to adapt to his needs, we try not to let him get the feeling he is in charge. And with the car gone, Mama Bear couldn't have taken him anywhere if she wanted to. He proceeded to throw a record-breaker, even for him. When the dust had settled and the smoke cleared, there was a sheriff's deputy on our doorstep.

MB explained that GL has autism, and invited him in to meet GL, who by this time had calmed down and more or less forgotten the preceding events. The deputy asked if we knew these neighbors. No, we don't. He asked permission to explain the situation to them, so they wouldn't worry and call the police next time GL has a meltdown. MB agreed. I got home shortly after he left.

Busy, Busy, Busy!

I haven't posted much in the last couple weeks. Sometimes I don't post much because I don't have much to say. Lately, I have plenty to say, just not much time to say it.

April 13, GL went to a new eye doctor. The last doctor said he was just slightly farsighted, he only needed glasses for reading, and it was borderline whether he needed them for that. The new doctor said the problem is not so much his slight farsightedness as the fact that his eyes simply don't work together. He thought this might partially explain GL's difficulty with reading, writing, math, and any other task that requires clear visual perception. He said the new glasses will help, but he needs to wear them all the time, and he would give us the name of a specialist to follow up with. We're still waiting.

The boys spent the next two days exploding out both ends. GL doesn't so much throw up on things as at them. Yes, due to gravity, the puke eventually makes its way to the floor, so I have to clean that, too, but wherever he is standing when the wave hits, he launches the projectile horizontally (I think he holds the record for horizontal distance) and won't move or turn his head until he is done. If he has any warning it's coming, he shows no sign of it. He won't run to the bathroom before, during, or after. He won't even point his mouth down if you put a bucket under it. So I actually spent more time cleaning walls than floors. At least most of the number two ended up in the toilet.

April 16, BB went to a birthday party. April 17, BB and I went to a rocket launch. It was too windy to fly much. Most of the rockets that did fly went horizontal, and many of them crashed. April 18, after church, I went back to the launch for a little while (It was a two-day event, and not far from home) and the winds had decreased enough for a little more flying, but still limited to low flights on less wind-sensitive rockets. One of my favorite models snapped its shock cord and lawn-darted, while the parachute and nose cone headed for the state line. I'll have to rebuild it. We hurried home so MB could get to work and make up some hours so she could take Tuesday off.

Late that afternoon, a man from the Countywide Universal Amalgamated Journal Sentinel Tribune Post Dispatch News-Free Press Sun Chronicle Daily Planet Democrat Observer stopped by to offer a special deal: an introductory subscription for a dollar a week. MB had said she wanted to try the paper, not for the articles, but for the coupons, so I wrote him a check. He promised our subscription would start Wednesday. When I talked to MB, she said that no, she had wanted to try the Big City Universal Amalgamated Journal Sentinel Tribune Post Dispatch News-Free Press Sun Chronicle Daily Planet Democrat Observer, because she thought it would have more and better coupons, and their introductory subscription, while shorter, was cheaper.

We spent Tuesday, April 20, in Madison with GL. He is having his first follow-up evaluation since his diagnosis six years ago. We got through a substantial portion of it. It was an exhausting but productive day. We'll be going back next week for the rest of it.

Wednesday there was no paper. I called the circulation department, and they said new subscriptions take eight to ten days to begin. It didn't take them long to cash my check, but they didn't even have my name in the computer yet. And they wonder why newspapers are dying! I should have just stopped at Corner Gas for a Sunday paper.

We got the call Wednesday that GL's new glasses were in. MB went with him to get them. The office was closed. She called them back, and they said, "Which office did you go to?" "The one where he had his eyes tested." "Oh, that office is only open one day a week. The doctor is in his other office in the county seat today, but we could send them there next week." Thursday BB and I had a dentist appointment, and MB took GL to the county seat to get his new glasses. MB spent the rest of the week exploding out both ends.

Was your day this bad?

I was looking forward to participating in this feature, but couldn't find anything suitable in the last two weeks. Stress? Yes. Chaos? Absolutely. Hard work? Challenge? Check and check. But nothing really memorable, let alone funny. So I'm posting one from the archives. I've been blogging long enough that I have archives? How time does fly!

Arby 1, Papa Bear 0.