Showing posts with label He did what?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label He did what?. Show all posts

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Too funny not to share!

An email from Noah's teacher last week.
 -------- Original message --------
From: awesome teacher
Date: 10/25/2013 1:31 PM (GMT-05:00)
To: Noah's mom
Subject: umm...help! :)


So…I’m literally laughing out loud while typing this.  We talk about some things that Noah does that just are too funny to get mad about.  I have one for you. 

Noah just came in from recess and I thought perhaps he ate something poisonous because he is running around like he is on speed and talking so quickly that its hard to even make out what he is saying right now.  when I asked him if he felt ok he replied, “yes…I feel like I just had a whole roll of gum with red dye in it that I snuck in from home and snuck out to recess with and ate the whole thing”.  He said this as he went into his backpack and then threw the empty package of gum at me (threw in a fun way throw and catch way, not aggressive). 

Any suggestions or should I just let him run on a hamster wheel (or some sensory based activities) for a while?!

As I’m typing this he is dancing and singing…shaking his butt like nothing I’ve ever seen before!!!  I have to admit…he is hilarious right now!   

Obviously I need to check the labels on the Halloween candy better.

I should probably find a new hiding place too.


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Sunday, September 29, 2013

Update to "And then this happened...(episode two: the asshat parent)"

So after I wrote this post, we received a group email from the faux coach.

Hi Parents, I would like to sincerely apologize to Noah's parents. I should've handled it privately with them. My emotions got the best of me and I feel awful the way I handled it.  

I am VERY sorry. 

I appreciate that he apologized, and I'm sure he does feel bad. I wish I could accept it with more grace than I am.

It's like we tell Noah, words hurt, and sometimes an apology doesn't fix it. No child should have another parent (or worse, a coach) screaming about how horrible he is to everyone around him. 

Today we heard from Noah's real coach. The faux coach was told his actions were unacceptable and that he is no longer needed on the team, effective immediately. Between you and me, I think the coach was relieved to have an excuse to get rid of him. 

More importantly though, Noah's coach also told us that because Noah was aggressive and apparently harmed another player, he was being suspended from the league for two weeks. His coach had to report it to the commissioner of the league and they take it seriously. Noah won't be allowed to practice or play with the team for two weeks. He will be reinstated for the last game of the season and for playoffs

I have very mixed feelings right now.

On one hand I absolutely agree with this decision, and so does Rich. Noah needs to know there are consequences for his actions. I think this consequence coming from someone other than us, will have more impact on Noah than anything we do. 

When I told Noah he was suspended he was upset. I was actually pleased to see him react this way. Sometimes he closes down and refuses to discuss or even react when he is held accountable for his actions. He is still insisting that he didn't punch anyone though. I'm hoping I'll get more information tomorrow when I actually speak to the coach (we were given this information via email today because we weren't home when he tried to call). The more details I have about the incident the better I can discuss it with Noah and try to get him to understand that just because he alters the story, the details of the actual event don't change.

I tried to explain to Noah that the team will suffer too, because of what Noah did. Noah is a good player, and not having him there to play puts more pressure on the rest of the kids.

So the other hand? I'm sad. Incredibly sad. 

This fall I've been the one taking Noah to practice and I've enjoyed it. I've been able to relax on the sidelines with the other moms that stay for practice. I've actually formed friendships with some of the moms and have looked forward to seeing them at practice during the week. I don't make friends easily, and I often find the moms in this area intimidating. It's been so nice finding moms that I feel comfortable with.

Because of Noah's suspension I won't see any of the parents for the next two weeks. Because of the faux coaches little performance Saturday, I imagine they will assume that Noah was kicked off the team. I know I shouldn't care what other parents think, but I do. Some of them will think Noah is a horrible kid, especially because of the faux coaches little tirade. If Noah plays with their kids again, which is very likely between soccer and basketball, their view of Noah is likely to be pretty negative if they think he was throwing punches at the other team.

And to continue the "all about me" pity party - I look forward to the games so much because soccer is the one "normal" thing in Noah's world. The one place he fits in with his peers. The one place where I hear other parents cheering for him and saying "great kick Noah," "way to go Noah." So I'm really sad that we aren't going to have this hour of awesome for the next two weeks. It's been really nice pretending for that hour that we are just normal parents.



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And then this happened...(episode two: the asshat parent)

Soccer today. Noah's been playing great this season. Watching him play is always the highlight of my week. Today was no exception while he was on the field.

Off the field however...*sigh*  Turns out when he wasn't playing he was dumping out the other kids water bottles. It wasn't just Noah, but my guess is he started it.

We played a team from a neighboring township. They are undefeated and until today had never allowed another team to score. The game would have ended 2-2 except our team scored their second goal with an extra player on the field. Want to guess who that player was? Yup. It was Noah. Just hanging out on defense.

Two of the dad's from the other team jumped up out of their chairs screaming to the ref that our team had eight players on the field instead of seven. So the goal didn't count and we lost, but our team still played an awesome game!

After the game is when the fun really started. And by fun I mean horror.

The kids on both teams line up and high five each other after each game. Today Noah decided he'd power high five the other team. Fists may or may not have been involved. Kids on the other team say he did. Noah said he only gave really hard high fives. As I explained to Noah though, I tend to believe the other kids since Noah has such a hard time telling the truth in situations like this.

Bad choice on Noah's part!

The absolutely best part of all of this though, and by best I mean most horrifying, was that one of the dad's, who likes to play "assistant" coach  (and yes, I did mean to emphasize ass. He only wants to coach during games, not practices. We call him the faux coach) blew a nut and came running across the field screaming for "Noah's parents."

Looking back it's kind of funny. I remember watching him run and almost turning to Rich and saying "wow, the faux coach is running."

So back to our story - the faux coach runs across the field screaming for Noah's parents.

If I'd been thinking on my feet better I would have turned around pretending to look for them and then told him I think they left. But I wasn't. Instead I stood up and said "we are, what happened."

Still screaming, the faux coach told us (and all the parents on both teams) that Noah "punched the other team" and he wants him "kicked off the team for unsportsmanlike behavior."

Rich and I of course immediately went over to Noah to deal with him; both of us thinking from what he said that Noah was actually fighting kids on the other team. (Noah, to his credit was sitting on the ground away from the rest of the team, well aware he was in trouble.) I know the faux coach was still screaming but I guess I'll have to wait to hear from the other parents at practice this week what he was saying.

We talked with the real coach, and Noah knows he made some pretty poor choices today. The coach assured us Noah isn't going to be kicked off the team and he apologized for the faux coach. In the future Rich may hang out on the team side to make sure Noah is behaving. We made him clean up all the trash on the field since we were the last game. Then he came home and spent some time "thinking" in his room before he wrote an apology letter to his coach. He also lost electronic privileges for the day.

It's taken a few hours for the tight feeling in my chest to loosen up, which is much more about the faux coach making this a public spectacle than anything else. I'm half tempted to ask him if he was at McDonald's approximately seven years ago and yelled at a mom in sweat pants because her son pushed his son in the play area.

The good news is that like earlier in the week, I think Noah really does get why what he did is wrong. That's new for him. It gives me hope. Now we need to work on thinking before acting. I'm not as hopeful about that.



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Saturday, September 28, 2013

Well this happened...(episode one: the gracious parent)

I kind of, maybe, hope anyway, that we kind of might have had a bit of a breakthrough with Noah this week. Or maybe not. It's hard to say.

The not so short version is that Noah and the boys next door (the ones we share a driveway and backyard with) got into it the other night. Noah's version includes the other boys threatening to kill him with a plastic baseball bat. (Now, to his credit I did see them with the bat and they are very mouthy at times, and definitely provoke Noah.) Noah's response was to throw a rock at them, which hit one of them in the head and cut his scalp. Much screaming and crying ensued, along with some blood. The other boys is fine, it wasn't a big cut despite the blood. However, the mom came over and told me that her kids would no longer be allowed to play with my kids. And you know what? I totally get it, and agree.

We agreed that none of our kids are angels and that right now the best thing we can do is keep them apart since all they do is provoke each other. That is going to be interesting considering the shared driveway and yard. I guess it will be first come first served and if they are in front we will stay in back. Like I said, it will be interesting.

It sucks though. I think mostly this is just stupid boy stuff but because Noah is Noah he gets more of the blame. I think the other boys did threaten him and since his brain goes into fight or flight so quickly (do not pass Go, do not collect $200) he reacted. He said he thought the only way he could get away was by scaring them with the rock. However, in the end, he was the one that threw the rock that hit someone. The other kids didn't actually hit him with the bat.

Our neighbors are really being pretty awesome about it, considering. (Especially since they are the neighbors whose window Noah broke in the spring. Did I tell you that story yet?) I don't think everyone would have been so gracious about it.

Noah and I had a long talk about what happened and he was unusually attentive and involved in the discussion. I know he was upset that he hurt the boy and when he threw the rock he never considered it could actually hurt someone. Typical thinking for him. I was very honest with him about what could have happened and that we are lucky no one called the police. We talked about what would happen if the police did come, and that because of things he has done in the past there was a good chance he would be taken to the hospital to see a psychiatrist and probably would have had to spend the night without Rich or me. Scare tactics on my part? Maybe a little. Did it work? I think so. Will he remember in the future? Hard to say. Probably not in the moment.

After all that I totally lost it and sobbed for a good hour. At one part I was crying so bad I started to hyperventilate. I don't think I've ever done that before. I know my reaction was way over the top, but at the time I felt like our world was ending.

That was Thursday evening. Today we dealt with another parent. Stay tuned for episode 2: the asshat parent.

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Sunday, November 11, 2012

Only When I Sleep

Rich left the house this morning at 7:30am with Noah. He left Kiel in the bedroom with me with a bowl of Cheerios and the tv on. At some point I felt Kiel crawl in bed next to me and ask if he could play on my Kindle Fire. I took it off the charger and fumbled it towards him.

He snuggled up next to me, occasionally stroking my ear lobe or playing with my hair. I opened my eyes occasionally to see him playing Where's my Water and Angry Birds. Then I saw he was watching a movie and was pretty settled in, so I rolled on my other side and fell soundly in to dream sleep.

We have a Netflix subscription and he's pretty good about choosing appropriate movies so I wasn't worried.

I managed an extra 90 minutes of sleep and it was lovely! I got up, I showered, Kiel showered, we went out for breakfast together, then to Michael's to get supplies for Kiel's upcoming birthday party. We finished up at Target, where Kiel was very sad to see that all the Halloween costumes were gone. He had to see it for himself, my word was not good enough.

We got home about 2pm and he wanted to play on his scooter, so I sat on the front step and turned on my Kindle.

Imagine my shock when I realized that he had purchased six videos from Amazon's video on demand to the tune of $51.

 Videos like The Amazing Spider-man that he said was too scary for him. And Cars, which we already own in every possible version.

He also purchased both The New Adventures of Batman: The Complete Series and one episode of The Batman - The Cat, the Bat and the Ugly. And then two other random videos.


Yes, I was asleep on the job. Totally and completely. And Kiel was on the web going crazy.

Rich took pity on me and called Amazon and a wonderful employee named Julie laughed when he told her what happened and she deleted everything and credited our account. Whew.

Parental controls have now been activated on my account.

In other news, we told Kiel that when he turns five (in ten days) that five year old's sleep in their own beds in their own rooms. We are trying to talk it up while at the same time make it clear this isn't an option.

As much as I love snuggling with him, it's time. Rich and I need our bed back. I need the kind of sleep I can't get when someone is wrapped around me at night.

It's time.


Any suggestions on how to get through this are welcome. We are going to do it over Thanksgiving week when at least one of us is home every day since Noah doesn't have school. I anticipate a couple rough nights.

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Wednesday, November 02, 2011

POOP

Poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop  shit  poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop   diarrhea   poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop  in  the  closet?   poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop  shit  poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop you have got to be fucking kidding me  poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop  in his pants too  poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop  poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop there is not enough vodka in the house poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop  did  I say  poop? poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop is a palindrome huh  poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop oh crap the pooppoop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop should have taken a picture poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop I am so over the poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop no more freaking poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop!



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Tuesday, August 30, 2011

First vacuums, now knives?

Rich and I have been trading off staying home with Noah the past two weeks since camp is over and school starts this week.

One day last week Rich went upstairs to do something; he said he was only up there about ten minutes or so. He came downstairs and Noah was outside playing.

And then he noticed all the butter/table knives were missing from the utensil drawer.  We have slowly been losing spoons over the last year or so, but I recently solved that mystery when I saw Noah throw out his yogurt container with the spoon still in it.

But for butter knives to suddenly go missing? Well, that smelled of Noah, and the smell wasn't good.

Turns out Noah had them outside with him. We still don't know why. He doesn't know why. A little target practice perhaps? A "let's see how far I can throw this?"

Rich and Noah went on a knife hunt in the back yard and found most of them.

He didn't tell me until a couple days after it happened. I guess he didn't want to give me one more thing to worry about.

But seriously dude. I don't think that is something you try and pretend didn't happen.Yeah, it is one more thing for me to over analyze and worry about. But since I'm already worrying about so much, what is one more ? Think of it as adding a little more variety to my worries.

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Sunday, August 28, 2011

When vacuum's come alive

Noah is afraid of the vacuum cleaner. One day a couple weeks ago he told me the vacuum scared him.

Now he's never liked the noise of the vacuum, and he makes sure it doesn't get too close to him when it is on, but he has never shown actual fear. In fact, over the past couple of months he has helped me vacuum and earned some money doing it. He was proud of himself that he could do it and do a good job.

So to hear him suddenly say he is afraid of it was surprising.

At first I thought he was using it as an excuse to not have to help me clean his room. I wasn't very sympathetic, as you can imagine.

But then he started talking about how it looked like it was smiling at him, and asked me to turn it around so the "face" part was towards the wall. He refused to walk past it if he thought he had to get too close to it.

When I left it in his room that day I was cleaning it, he freaked out.

It turns out he had a dream and it tried to eat him. Then a few days later he had a dream and it ate Kiel.

I can understand how that could turn into an irrational fear. At eight he still has magical thinking, right?

But still, he was almost humanizing it as he spoke of the vacuum. Like it was alive and was really going to come after him.

The fear seems to have eased up a bit. I saw him go up to it and pat it and say "good vacuum cleaner" the other day. Today he was fine with me using it with him right next to him.

I realize I over think everything about Noah. I remind myself of that whenever I start worrying about something he has done.

I'm having a hard time convincing myself that this is just normal eight year old behavior though. And I really don't think he is playing me; if he is, the kid is fucking brilliant.

Frankly, it scares me more than a little. Is this psychotic thinking? A tear in his link with reality? A glimpse at what is to come?


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Sunday, August 14, 2011

Awful, awful, awful, awful...and then something incredible happens...and then awful, awful, awful, awful...

 I watched The Backup Plan with Jennifer Lopez tonight and it is fucking hysterical.


This bit though made me stop and say "wow, yeah, exactly."

It's awful, awful, awful and then something incredible happens. And then awful, awful, awful, awful, awful...and something incredible happens.

Well, I don't know what it is like in a normal family with normal kids, but that is what it is like with Noah most of the time.

Yesterday Noah's camp had their end of the year camp show. I wasn't able to go but Rich was there. Noah was awesome. In fact, after it was over Rich called me to tell me about it and he was all choked up about it. It was really sweet.

One of the songs his group did was Michael Jackson's Beat It. Noah had a "dance" solo towards the end. Here is a little clip of it. He's in all black with the gold vest. Please note the large white glove he is wearing. ;)


The video is about 23 seconds. It makes me smile and laugh. This is the incredible.

And then the awful, awful, awful...today at karate I saw him taking money out of my purse. I told him to put it back. He grabbed it anyway and went running out of the karate studio. In front of everyone in the middle of my class.

That is what he is doing now. If he doesn't like what we are telling him to do, or if he is being reprimanded or directed to do something he doesn't want to do, he takes off.

I refuse to run after him. It would be like trying to catch a puppy. I won't catch him and it will just be more fun for him.

So instead I feel absolutely ineffective because at the moment there is not a thing I can do until he comes back.

Awful, awful, awful...

And then we came home and he helped me pick up and vacuum, and it was a little bit of the incredible again.


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Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Doing the science, so you don't have to.

I was a bit of a science geek in school. I capital L-O-V-E loved MacGyver. I didn't have normal crushes on normal teen idols, oh no. Once I moved past Shawn Cassidy and Donny Osmond, it was pretty much MacGyver all the way.

And just to prove he still sets me all aquiver, I just wasted an hour at this website dedicated to the series.

Anyway...I could write an entire blog post or twelve on why I loved the guy so much (shut up! He was not just a character!). Or tell you how when a guy I was dating fixed my furnace with no more than a rubber band and a paper clip (I shit you not!) I was so turned on I wanted to throw him down on the cold, hard basement floor and have wild monkey sex with him right then and there, but I won't bore you with those silly stories.

Because really, when I sat down to write this I was going to tell you how much I loved science and how in the MNT household I am keeping that love alive and passing it on to my children. Until I got sidetracked by my lusty thoughts of MacGyver that is.

But back to science, and my children, and passing on the love, etc. etc.

I always assumed that I would be one of those moms that did science experiments with her kids. I also assumed I would be one of those moms that did all kinds of cool things in the kitchen with her kids, and did art projects, and took them to cool, educational places.

And then Noah came along and I tried all of those things and the ingredients for the science experiment were all dumped in together, the measuring spoons were thrown into the mixer while it was running, the paint ended up every where but on the paper, and he was "that kid" inside the giant heart at the Franklin Institute that wouldn't come out.

So the paint dried up, and the baking slowed down, and we stay away from giant walk-in hearts.

But, we still do science experiments! It's just that they are rarely planned or intentional. We do however learn from them.

For example, just the other day Kiel taught me that combs don't flush. They also don't really float. In fact, they will slide down far enough into the workings of the toilet that you don't really know it is there. Well, not until after your morning constitutional and you realize the toilet is plugged up, so you get the plunger and start plunging away. So you plunge and plunge, and finally things are moving again, but you can still see a little bit of blue way down just peeking out into the bottom of the bowl, with some floaters around it. You start to think that maybe Kiel tried to flush his night time pullup down and figure you are going to have to pull it out. So you try to get clever and turn the plunger around and fish it out with the handle end. But that doesn't work, and you realize if it was indeed a pullup there is no way anything would be flushing down. So you plunge some more, and you flush, and you prove to yourself that the water is flowing down again, but you still see this little bit of blue, way down deep in the bowl. And you still see some floaters, so you know it isn't all going down. Plus, you didn't hear that satisfying gurgle burp that you usually hear after a successful unclogging.

And then you realize that you have nothing left to do but plunge your hand down deep into the toilet and pull it out yourself. Don't worry, I promptly cut my hand off at the wrist so no worries if you ever do meet me in person, just shake my left hand. And out came my big blue comb. The comb I use every morning to untangle my wet hair. The comb that now has shit stuck between some of the tines. The comb that was picked up yesterday morning by the trash guys.

So remember, combs don't flush. The combination of comb and shit doesn't float. And no matter how many times you flush that comb is still going to have poop between the tines.

Awesome stuff right?

Now, just the week before Noah helped me conduct another science experiment. This one involved one of those sandwich cracker packs, the pocket of his shorts, and the washing machine.

Maybe it was his hint that he wanted me to make meatloaf, because those crackers came out perfectly crushed. The consistency and uniformity of the crumbs was truly perfection.

Unfortunately, the crumbs didn't stay in the wrapping they started out in. They didn't even stay in the pocket. Oh no, they left a nice uniform coating of wet cracker crumbs on all the clothes and the inside of the washer and then the dryer.

I'm all for multi-tasking and economy of motion, but take my word for it, crush your crackers by hand. Doing it in the washer and dryer is highly inefficient for both effort and output.


And there you have it. I did the science so you don't have to.

You are welcome.




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Saturday, April 16, 2011

Almost speechless

I'm trying to look at the positive here. I mean it does show an awesome amount of control and balance to hover like that. And he did get it all in.

And it is pretty funny in a wrong sort of way. And probably way funnier if it isn't your own kid.

So yeah, anyway...

Noah pooped in the litter box today.

I'm so proud! confused amazed proud bewildered not ready to put this in our Christmas letter.



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Wednesday, April 06, 2011

All that over a cookie?

Yesterday while on our way to Noah's vision therapy appointment I had to pull off to the side of the road.

Because of a cookie. A cookie I wouldn't give Noah, even though he was starving! and needed! that cookie.*

So Noah had a temper tantrum. Like a two year-old, but in an eight year-old body. A screaming, trash talking, spitting and throwing, kicking my seat temper tantrum. While I was driving.

And I thought "fuck this shit" and I pulled over and sat there with my hazard lights on, while Noah continued to freak the fuck out. And I sat there checking my email on my phone and half hoping/half fearing that the police were going to pull up behind me.

Eventually he calmed down and we drove home. No police. I have no idea if it made an impact on him or not. I do know he will be cleaning up the spit in the back seat after school tomorrow.

When we got home Noah went to spend some time in his room. I ate the cookie. It was a good cookie!



*There was a cookie, and I did refuse to give it to him because between picking him up from school and him seeing there was a cookie, I realized he had lied to me about cleaning something out of the car the night before.

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Monday, January 10, 2011

New Rule - No cutting off of fingers

I find having good, solid rules in our house work best. 

Rules like:

  • No TV or computer before homework is completed.
  • If you don't pick up your Lego's before I vacuum I will suck them up.
  • Love your brother, he's the only one you have.
  • Don't ride the cat like a horse.
And now - No cutting off of fingers.

Last week Noah tried to cut off Kiel's thumb with a cigar cutter.

Visol "Slash" Plastic Cigar CutterKind of like this one. Guillotine style. 

It took me a while to figure out what exactly had happened. Once I dealt with the blood and determined that although Kiel's thumb nail was cut through, he was not in fact going to lose any digits, Noah did answer my questions.  
It still wasn't making sense to me so I told Noah to go and get whatever it was that made Kiel bleed.

And then I realized. Chop. Off with his thumb.

Noah thought it would be interesting to see what would happen. And Kiel, who idolizes Noah, did exactly what Noah asked him to do. 

Noah has shown a lot of remorse over the incident, although I still don't think he understands how serious it could have been.

I guess I should be thankful it wasn't some other appendage he was told to put in there.

So yes, we have a new rule - No cutting off of fingers.


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Thursday, November 18, 2010

I'm at a loss

I came downstairs this morning and walked through something gritty. In the approximately 20 minutes Noah was alone down here to eat breakfast he took a packet of powdered lemonade and spread it all over the dining room floor.

Apparently he felt like it.

Despite a rough day at school he did great this afternoon. He was focused doing homework and his vision exercises and didn't give me any grief when I told him he needed to shower before we went to karate. 

At karate he attended a special hour seminar with Ed Parker Jr, where he was focused and in control. They paired up and learned some new passive self-defense techniques. He was awesome working with the other kid and the joy on his face was radiating. He even had his belt signed by Ed Parker Jr.

He was excited to get home and see Kiel because he said he hadn't seen him all day! 

And then it was time to take Kiel up to bed and Noah became upset and started to get wild and tried to encourage Kiel to go to the basement with him. When Noah wouldn't listen or change his attitude, Rich told him to go upstairs and get his pajamas on.
As I was changing Kiel, Rich came up and saw a large wet spot on the hall carpet between the kids bathroom and the laundry room. Noah said "Stell did it." I sighed and said if he did that then he must be unhappy about the state of the litter box.

But then we got a bit suspicious when Noah didn't have to pee and I knew he hadn't gone since right after school. Rich smelled it and it was definitely not cat pee. I smelled it and it definitely was human pee. Noah pee. And he continued to try and deny it was him. And then he became hysterical when we told him he had to clean it up. Sobbing and keening. And then later screaming that he hates mommy and daddy. The icing on the cake was his rendition of "Mommy and Daddy are lame" sung over and over again.

This kind of behavior just confirms for me we are on the right track considering reactive attachment disorder. What I don't understand yet is what an effective consequence is for these types of behaviors.


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Thursday, July 22, 2010

Fucked myself right good with that post, didn't I.

Ha!

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha

and fucking HA!

Did I actually type those words last night that Noah hasn't been kicked out of camp yet?

OK, well, technically it is true, he hasn't been completely kicked out of camp. Yet.

But today I did get a call at work around 9:45am from the head counselor, telling me Noah had pushed (or hit, I'm not exactly sure now) another camper while in line to go to the first activity. So I was asked to come pick him up, since they told him the last time this happened he would have to go home.

I get there to pick him up and he walks up to me head hanging low. You could see he was upset with himself, and probably with everyone else.

I asked him what happened but didn't get a clear explanation from him, other than the other kid was irritating him.

And then I saw an almost empty bottle of Gatorade in his backpack side pocket. I did not send him to camp with Gatorade. In fact, I told his counselors that he should never be allowed to drink Gatorade, so not to let him get it from the soda machine. And I purposely never send money in with him so he isn't able to buy it, even if he wants to.

Apparently I forgot to tell his TSS that we thought Gatorade, like red dye, was irritating to his brain and negatively impacted on his behavior. Fuck me for that oversite.

And yes, the incident did happen after he drank the Gatorade. I'm not blaming it on the Gatorade, because Noah has to learn to control his impulses no matter what, but I do think it is interesting that it happened after he drank something we know is problematic.

It turns out he went to camp with a pocket full of change this morning (not sure yet where he found it, but I'm sure somewhere in the house is a busted piggy bank). He wanted a Coke, but his TSS said no. And of course since I hadn't told him, why would he think Gatorade would be a problem, especially since it wasn't red. Oh well.

So we are both home. He's spent a lot of time in his room. I told him no TV, no computer. He looked at me and had the nerve to say "but what am I going to do?"

Not my problem kid, not my problem. I have real work to do that I'm not able to do at my office, since I had to leave work because of your behavior. (OK, I didn't say any of that to him.)

I hope this is the most boring day he has ever had.


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Sunday, June 20, 2010

Taking back my blog - part Noah (chapter 1)

The other night I wrote a, dare I say eloquent, post about Noah and why I blogged and where we are with him now, and then I saved it in draft mode (I thought) so I could read it again the next day before I posted it. Somehow it disappeared on me. 

That post was flavored by a week or so of seeing some positive behaviors in him, although I've learned to be cautiously optimistic, as this journey is most definitely a roller coaster with more excitement than you'd find in any amusement park. Now that's an idea, perhaps I could sell Six Flags or Cedar Point on "The Wild Ride of Noah" for their next "the best roller coaster ever!" ride.

Anyway...this post is less colored by optimism today than it is by finding Noah had covered his toilet in poop this morning while I was making Rich breakfast for Father's Day. I have a "zero shit tolerance" policy. He's seven. The fact that he still needs help with the "paper work" is one thing, purposely spreading the poop around the toilet is an entirely different thing. And I swear, if one well-meaning person tells me that that it is "normal" for a seven year old to smear poop around, well, I'm just going to loose my own shit. 

So yeah, shit and stuff. Noah still struggles with encopresis. And we still aren't quite sure how much of the poop in his underwear is a physiologic problem and how much is a behavioral problem. He says he doesn't know when he "leaks," but considering after it has happened he doesn't seem to care that he has shit in his underwear and he stinks, it's pretty hard to believe he doesn't know. 

I started instituting butt checks in the morning before school, since he had two incidents at school where he said he pooped himself before getting on the bus in the morning. So, ten minutes before the bus comes I supervise tooth brushing, wash his face, and do the butt check. It's a great way to start the morning! Doin' the butt check, oh yeah, I'm doin' the butt check. I think I'm going to incorporate that into my next rap album.

So...more on the positive side, we have seen some improvements over the last couple weeks. While the melt downs are still occurring daily, and usually multiple times daily, they aren't always lasting as long. Sometimes he even pulls himself out of them and apologizes and we are able to talk about what happened. We have even had a few days that were actually entirely enjoyable except for one or two short incidents.

The good days tend to be followed by especially bad days, almost as if he can't let himself have too much good at one time. 

We are still struggling to figure out what his primary diagnosis is. Right now he's kind of an alphabet soup of ADHD, PDD-NOS, ODD, and mood disorder (he's too young for any of us to feel comfortable formally applying a bipolar disorder to him). We are also considering that attachment issues may still be a problem, although he is clearly not a RAD child. And, he's been showing more OCD behaviors over the last several months, like obsessive toilet flushing, nose picking, and hand clapping, to name a few.

His teacher sees the autism spectrum issues as being the most problematic, and although she hasn't said it outright to us, I know she thinks medication is making him worse. The psychiatrist thinks the mood disorder is primary, (actually that almost simplifies it to much, but I'll save that for a different post). Rich and I see pieces of all of it at different times, and while we see pieces improve, over all it feels like he is getting worse. 

When Noah was around two and we first started working with "professionals" we were told that with year or two of therapy he'd probably be fine; that his chances of starting kindergarten as a "typical" kid were good. We believed them. Or perhaps we heard the parts that we wanted to hear and told ourselves that on our own. It's hard to remember.

Hell, even as recently as last summer I let myself believe that a woman in Texas and her behavior program could change our world. I wrote about it at the beginning of the post here. It was pretty much a big fat fail, and in a nut shell not a program I would recommend. 

We are going to be doing some work with our attachment therapist next week. Hopefully it will help all three of us (Rich, Noah and me) with coping skills and give us an answer if attachment is indeed still an issue with Noah, or those attachment issue type behaviors are more a result of his other disorders. Either way hopefully we'll be able to dig a little deeper into his brain.


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Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Forgetting to look up

Sometimes I think I live my life too focused on just moving forward. 

Looking forward, looking down, sometimes looking back, but too often forgetting to look up.

So I stop.

I take some time.

I reflect.

I dream a little of tomorrow.

And then...

I remember to look up.

And do you know what I see?



I see grapefruit.






Yes, grapefruit.




On the ceiling.





Because apparently Noah has discovered he has mad grapefruit-spitting skilz.




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Sunday, January 24, 2010

Update on the co-sleeping

We may have encountered a slight bump in the road in our co-sleeping arrangement.

Kiel has discovered the delights of watching TV in bed. Which is just another reason I can claim that it doesn't take genetics to make him my child.

When we first started this arrangement Kiel was starting out the night in the pack 'n play in our room, where he has been sleeping since he was about nine months old. Inevitably he would end up in our bed around 4am.

One of the reasons we never moved Kiel into his own room is because his room shares a wall with Noah's room, and if it isn't Kiel crying in the night waking up Noah, it's Noah the Rooster waking up at his usual 5:30am. Either one turns into a nightmare. If Kiel is crying in his room it wakes up Noah, who is an incredibly light sleeper. And when Noah wakes up at 4am he is awake for the day. And the boy is manic that early in the morning. It makes for a shit-tastic day for everyone. If it is Noah who wakes up first, even though he's not allowed out of his room that early, keeping him quiet while he is in there is pretty much impossible.

Not that I really need to explain to anyone why we have made this decision, but in case anyone wondered, it isn't all about me needing to cling on to mah bay-bee as long as I can. Although I do plan on clinging on to mah bay-bee as long as I can.

Anyway...

The first couple nights that Kiel started out the night sleeping in our bed he realized he could get out of it and would come and find us downstairs.

It is actually pretty damn cute. We hear the thump as he gets out of bed, then the pitter-patter of his little feet making their way to the stairs. And then one little thump after another as his bottom hits each step as he slides down. Slowly. One step at a time. Sometimes it takes him two or three minutes to make it all the way.

And then he sits on the step just above where he can see us, and waits. Every couple minutes peeking around the wall to see if we know he is there, with his "I'm so fucking cute and I know I'm getting away with murder" smile.

I seriously can't even look at him when he does this because it cracks me up.

But this week, as I said, he learned the joy of watching TV in bed. So now, instead of him waking up and coming down to us, we go up to go to sleep and find him sitting up in bed watching Noggin. All propped up by the pillows. Sometimes with the cat asleep next to him. Like the fucking King of Sheba.

Tonight, Rich and I went to see a movie and the baby sitter said she only heard him once, but he calmed right down. Well yup, he did. Because when we got home and went to check on him, there he was, happy as could be, sitting up in bed watching Dragon Tails.

So Rich and I both got in bed with him and cuddled him, which is another post entirely.*

Finally, he fell asleep and Rich and I decided we wanted to do a little cuddling of our own. We quietly extricated ourselves (and our ear lobes) to the bed in Kiel's "someday he'll sleep in there" bedroom.

After we finished "cuddling" we went back into our bedroom. And guess what we found?

Yup. Kiel sitting up in bed watching TV. With that most adorable shit eating grin on his face.

The TV is now unplugged. Because, yes, we are smarter than a two year old.



* Although I will tell you the cutest part of it. He lay in bed between us holding on to one of Rich's earlobes with his right hand, and one of my earlobes with his left hand. The boy has a thing for lobes.

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Friday, May 29, 2009

It's the little things

The other day Kiel was in the bathroom with me hanging out while I was getting ready for work. I look over at him and busted up laughing. He had a tampon (wrapped and unused people!) in his mouth like a big ol' stogie. I was all "doood, don't you think you're a little young?" He nodded and put it back in the drawer.

He is one funny little boy! And I am one very lucky mommy!


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Thursday, August 07, 2008

The unthinkable

Noah has started to show aggression towards Kiel. We've worried about it happening since Kiel was born and he was doing fine. So we let down our guard.

A couple weeks ago Noah hit Kiel with a hockey stick and left bruises on his legs. We were horrified.

Then tonight while Rich was in the bathroom and Kiel was playing in our bedroom, about four feet away, but with a doorway and a bit of a corner in the way, he heard Kiel start to cry. He ran in to see Noah kicking Kiel in the ribs. We are beside ourselves tonight.

The thought of someone hurting Kiel nauseates me. That it would be his brother makes it even worse.

I don't know what to do right now. I would die if something happened to Kiel. I can't even begin to describe how I feel about him.

I am truly at a loss right now...


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