Household Navigation

Author: Cheryl  //  Category: A Rogue by Any Other Name, The World According to Breydon

Roegen dashes across the house removing his clothing as he goes.  Knowing that he has a dirty diaper I race after him.

My path is blocked by Breydon.

Me: Breydon, move.  I need to catch your brother.
Breydon: What’s the password?
Me: You’re right.  Please move.  I need to catch Roegen.

Breydon doesn’t move.

Breydon: The password is polkadot.
Me: Polkadot?
Breydon: Yeah, you have to say polkadot before you can go.
Me: Okay.  Polkadot.  Now can I pass?
Breydon: Yep.

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

Fortunately I caught the youngest terrorist before he indulged his penchant for poop art again. And as far as Breydon goes, I’m not sure whether to be elated because he used full sentences or go talk to him about the dangers of stopping Mommy when I’m going somewhere in a hurry.

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The Lure of the Spice Cabinet

Author: Cheryl  //  Category: The World According to Breydon

One of the “side effects” of autism that Breydon has is Picky Eater Syndrome. In fact, there was a point in his life where the only things that he would eat were Nutragrain bars (fortunately generics were okay), canned mandarin oranges, and crisby chicken nuggets. If we gave him something that was not on his approved list, he wouldn’t eat it – in fact, he’s the only child I know who voluntarily refused to eat cake for his first three birthdays. Unlike most kids who will eventually get hungry enough that they’ll try the other things that show up on their plates, if he didn’t want what was served Breydon could go days without food. Since he was already diagnosed with Failure to Thrive we found ourselves picking other battles.

Despite the frequent suspicion that my son was going to turn into a chicken nugget, we muddled along the best we could. The summer after he turned four gave us our first glimmer of hope when Breydon grabbed a rib covered in barbecue sauce off Scott’s plate, ate it, and demanded another. Over time he first accepted other meats, followed by corn-on-the-cob and undressed salad, peanut-butter and cinnamon toast (his personal creation and still a favorite) and desserts. But no matter what, he would not touch any Italian foods other than pizza – which absolutely horrified my Sicilian husband.

Recently the boys discovered the joys of On Demand television and  Activity TV immediately become a huge favorite. At first I had to explain to them that when exercise shows are on participation in said exercise is expected, but once that hurdle was crossed we were doing fine. And then Breydon discovered that Activity TV not only has exercise and craft programs, but cooking shows. Cooking shows which use SPICES.

Suddenly a switch has flipped. As long as he gets to help cook, Breydon is willing to eat just about anything. Pasta, formerly the most evil food ever invented, is yummy when sprinkled with a bit of paprika. Rice is great if doctored with rosemary and thyme. Even tomato sauce is okay because it needs basil and oregano. Our once picky eater tries new foods without much effort going into the process.

I wish we’d figured this out years ago.

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Incentive

Author: Cheryl  //  Category: A Rogue by Any Other Name

Roegen has within the past three days become obsessed with using the potty.  The reason?

 

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I think he looks like a biker dude.  I wonder if this is a sign of the future.

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Field Trip

Author: Cheryl  //  Category: Chaotic Dynamics

Today I had the honor of guest blogging for Brillig at ‘Twas Brillig.  This opportunity was extra special for me because ‘Twas Brillig was one of the first blogs I started reading regularly and one of my earliest additions to my blog roll.

I was hoping to say something amazing that would go down in history, but sometimes I have to work with what I’ve got.  Go check it out. ;)!

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I Had Important Things to Say But Forgot What They Are

Author: Cheryl  //  Category: Chaotic Dynamics, Mean Mommy Syndrome

I looked at my blog today and realized that my last post was on my birthday. That break wasn’t intended to happen. I’ve sat down to my computer several times over the past week, at least every night, but still haven’t managed to produce anything for this blog. You see, life goes something like this.

Open WordPerfect x3. Type “A quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dogs” to warm up. (Yes, I’m silly but I find that when I follow that little ritual I make fewer typos. Superstition - if it works, don’t knock it!)

Hear a crash from the next room, followed by blood-curdling shrieks.

Jump up to investigate. Discover that Jude has hit Breydon in the head with a slat from their bunk bed because “he was going to sleep and not talking to me.”

Apply a cold compress to Breydon’s head while Jude hears the ominous phrase “wait until your father gets home.”

When Breydon is settled suddenly smell Roegen before you can see him as he walks into the room dressed in nothing, with dark body paint reminiscent of some Mayan rituals.

Throw the toddler on the potty with dire warnings about how disappointed and sad Dodo and Beeber would be if he poops on them and start hunting for the missing diaper and clothing that said toddler should be wearing.

Find clothes. Find diaper and portions of its contents decorating the crib. Strip crib of all bedding.

Return to bathroom to discover toddler is no longer on the potty but is instead brushing his tummy with his brother’s toothbrush.

Throw toothbrush in the trash. Toss Roegen in the bathtub. Scrub brown goo from his body while he screams “you hurt me Mommy, naughty Mommy.” Reminders that instead of playing with brown goo he can sit on the potty and earn rewards are met with disdain and silence.

Put clean pajamas on the toddler and place him in his crib. Realize there aren’t any sheets on the bed and go hunting for a set.

Return to the boys’ bedroom to see that the middle son is balancing on the headboard of the top bunk. Firmly remove Jude from his improvised balance beam and remind him that he’s in enough trouble already.

Turn to the crib. Discover that the toddler has already managed to escape and is now heading to the same top bunk that he saw his brother perched upon.

Make the crib. Throw Beeber and Dodo into bed. Toss Roegen in after. Ignore his scoldings and rantings of “no no night night, naughty Mommy.”

Ensure that Jude is firmly between his covers.

Check Breydon’s head. He’ll have a lovely goose-egg to show for the night’s adventure. Tuck him back into bed with a kiss and hug.

Take all of the dirty laundry generated by the toddler (and some other miscellaneous items) and throw it into the washing machine. Start a sanitary cycle.

Return to the computer without any idea of what the previous blog topic was. Come up with a new idea. Type “Jude said ‘there’s an elephant in my penis.’”

Have Roegen run into the room cheering “I wake Mommy, I wake.”

Return Roegen to his crib. Take a sleeping pill because Scott has pulled up outside, hoping that the drugs will kick quickly. Insomnia is a right royal pain in the arse.

Have Scott enter the house with groceries that need to be put away. Send him to talk with Jude and take over the wrestling of frozen foods.

Discover Ben and Jerry’s Strawberry Cheesecake mixed in with the rest of the groceries. Know that Ben and Jerry’s Strawberry Cheesecake is striving to stand out from the pack. Grab a spoon.

Return to the blog. Have no idea why Jude said “there’s an elephant in my penis” and try to come up with something new.

Thanks to Ben and Jerry I actually managed to get something finished tonight before the next crisis. I have no idea whether I’ll be able to do the same next time. It’s summer vacation and the kids are in great form.

So, I’ll write when I can. Hopefully that will happen more frequently than once a week.

Maybe I’ll even remember why Jude said there’s an elephant in his penis and decide that it’s something worth sharing with all of the blogosphere.

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I’m an Evil Wife

Author: Cheryl  //  Category: A Rogue by Any Other Name, Then There Was Me

I shouldn’t laugh about this but every time I think of it I find myself chuckling again.  Since today is my birthday I figure that I’m able to get away with things right now that I wouldn’t get away with otherwise. 

Last night I had helped Roegen take off his shirt and pants because it was close to bedtime.  I was then helping Jude clip his toenails (i.e. cutting them with all the drama that can ensue) and heard a LOUD fart - Roegen had pulled his diaper off and stuck his bottom in the air.

I asked Roegen if he needed to go potty, he said "yes" and ran across the house.  I told Scott that he needed to follow up.

Shortly afterward, the toenails were clipped.  At which time Scott informed me that Roegen was saying "no Daddy, no Daddy.  I want Mommy."

So, I joined Roegen in the bathroom.  He looked at me with a very concerned expression on his face and said "Mommy, I poop in the kitchen."

I called into the other room to Scott "Roegen says he pooped in the kitchen, but I bet he has his words confused."

There was a brief pause, followed by the words "He’s not confused.  He did poop in the kitchen.  And I just stepped in it!!"

Like I said, I know I shouldn’t laugh.  But I am.

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What is a Dad?

Author: Cheryl  //  Category: Extensions

Today is Father’s Day, the 8th such day that Scott has celebrated. He’s a good one, despite his lack of interest in changing poopy diapers. The bond that he and the boys share is strong. I watch him with our sons and my heart melts.

I also spend today thinking about my Dad. I’ve rarely talked about him on my blog but he did a lot to help me become the woman who I am today. Even now that I’m getting closer and closer to 40, I know that I can call him for the same thoughtful advice that he has consistently given over the years.

So what exactly is a father?

Fatherhood goes beyond genetics. The DNA which links me to my father and Scott to our sons is simply biology that may determine eye color and adult height, but has nothing to do with character.

A father

  • Walks the floor with a crying baby hour after hour when nothing seems to help
  • Holds outstretched hands to catch a toddler learning to walk
  • Plays the “up” and “down” game for hours even when his arms are tired because it encourages his previously silent 3-year-old to talk
  • Answers the same question over and over because his child finds it reassuring
  • Researches subjects that he has never been interested in because they are important to his child
  • Doesn’t buy earplugs to drown out the voice of a child who doesn’t know when (or how) to stop talking but patiently engages the child in conversation
  • Teaches his child to begin making decisions and asks questions to help his child through the process
  • Understands that he will not always be able to be there for his child and teaches his child to face the consequences of any actions the child takes
  • Models character so that his children can consider honesty and integrity to be essential behavior
  • Communicates with his children
  • Loves his children unconditionally

Fatherhood comes from the heart.

Happy Father’s Day!

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Pizza And the Germans

Author: Cheryl  //  Category: Chaotic Dynamics, Extensions, The World According to Breydon

Today is my mother-in-law’s birthday.  I won’t say how old she is because although she doesn’t know about this blog I’m sure that if I tell anyone who passes through her age karma will come back to bite me in the nose.  And I don’t know about you, but I have quite enough karma going on as it is.  At least I have enough karma of the type that bites noses.  If you want to send me some of the other type of karma I’m all for it.

So anyway, Breydon has been talking about Grandma D’s birthday for about 2 weeks now since he’s got the entire calendar memorized.  He knows that she has her birthday and then I have mine and then Uncle Tim and Jude and his cousin Justus and school starts back and then. . .  You get the idea. 

Not only does Breydon know when everyone’s birthday is, he also believes that all birthdays should be celebrated with pizza and cake.  Jude and Roegen embrace the idea wholeheartedly.  The problem?  Grandma D lives several hundred miles from us.  Right now she is in an entirely different US state visiting other family members.  Having her over for pizza and cake is not possible. 

The boys still had their hearts set on having pizza and cake for Grandma D’s birthday.  Now I think the whole thing is a scam in order to have a fun dinner that doesn’t include things like extra vegetables or pasta (because unlike most Italian children Breydon doesn’t believe in pasta), but the kids got so excited that Scott and I gave in and agreed that we’d have a birthday dinner today even though Grandma D can’t make it.  I placed an order with Papa Murphy’s and Scott took Breydon and Jude to pick out a cake.

The boys wanted to pick out the biggest cake there was - a half sheet decorated with white and black frosting that said "over the hill".  Scott vetoed that idea very quickly.  So then they started arguing about what type of cake to get.  Jude wanted a strawberry cake.  Breydon wanted a white cake decorated with balloons and confetti.  Scott wanted German chocolate. 

Scott: Grandma D’s favorite type of cake is German chocolate.

Breydon: No, not German chocolate.

Scott: Why not?

Breydon: I’m scared of Germans!

Say what?  As far as I know Breydon hasn’t started studying World War II at school or anything, so the only thing he should know about Germans is that a close friend of ours is one.  I guess it’s time to have another talk about how all people are people and we need to accept them for who they are (although Scott wonders if Breydon thought he was talking about germs). 

They ended up compromising on double chocolate fudge.  They brought the cake home and after enjoying the pizza decorated with the "2" from Roegen’s birthday and two crayon candles.  It looked like Grandma D was 211.  (In the interest of self-preservation, she’s not even close.)  Then the boys called her up on the phone and sang before cheerfully devouring a large slice apiece. 

Now they’re ready to turn around and do this all again for my birthday next week.  I wonder if it will break their hearts when I tell them I’d rather have Japanese food and strawberry shortcake?

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Do you Know What a Booster Head Is?

Author: Cheryl  //  Category: Uncategorized

Breydon and Jude are both at the upper weight limit for their current carseats.  So while we were out running errands yesterday I had Scott stop so that I could run in see if what I wanted was at Target, leaving he and the kids in the car.  Afterward, Scott and I talked about the pros and cons of what Target carried and decided that we were going to look online before making any final decisions.

Jude was eavesdropping and wanted to know what booster means.  Scott decided to tease him and said that we think he’s due for a booster shot (Jude was NOT amused).  And I mentioned that Turbo Man’s sidekick from the movie Jingle All the Way is name booster.  That led to a discussion about how people who support the PTA and things like that are boosters.  And booster rockets help shuttles and satellites launch into space. 

 

From the back row of the minivan, Breydon interrupted the conversation.  "I like booster heads."

 

Booster heads?

 

It turns out that if you eat an entire head of cabbage in one setting, it will "boost" your ability to fart.  Welcome to the world of 7-year-old boys.

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A Little Random Chaos

Author: Cheryl  //  Category: Chaotic Dynamics

While playing outside in the yard Roegen fell down in front of Jojo and she seized the opportunity lick him.

Roegen: Help me Daddy, Jojo eat my hair. Jojo eat my hair.
Scott: You’re fine. She’s just playing.
Roegen: No! Jojo eat my hair. Naughty Jojo!

* * *

Jude: I still need a baby sister.
Me: You’ve got two brothers. Be happy with that.
Jude: If we don’t have a girl then I can’t be a parent.
Me: You don’t marry your sister.
Jude: But I have to have a girl to be a parent.
Me: Maybe there is a little girl out there with two sisters, like you have two brothers, and you can marry her.
Jude: Really?
Me: Yes. I didn’t know Daddy until I was a grown up.
Jude: And then you caught him.

Please tell me, why is he so obsessed with becoming a parent?

* * *

Recently I’ve been reading The Spiderwick Chronicles to the boys at bedtime. They are loving the series and I’ll admit that Scott and I are enjoying ourselves as well. In fact, we’re on Book 3 at the moment and while I was in class the other night Scott was so interested in what would happen next that he finished the entire book rather than wait for the rest of us.

Me: Does anyone know why there is toothpaste squirted all over my towel?
Breydon: The boggart did it.

Lovely little thing, that boggart. I think it ranks right up there with “not me” and “he did it.”

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