Never Lick Horses

Sometimes it's hard being a parent. And I'm not referring to navigating through all those tricky emotional and behavioral issues that come along with raising children-- that stuff's a piece of cake. What's hard is explaining the meaning of words and phrases to your children-- ya know? Like, has your child ever asked you what "gregarious" or "cursory" or "insidious" mean (just to name a few)? They are not easy words to explain in layman's terms!

Well, today Ruby asked me what an "idiom" was. And my mom, who happened to be over at the time, thought the best route was to give her an example instead of a definition. Brilliant!

"Okay," I said, "have you ever heard the phrase 'never look a gift horse in the mouth'?"

"Never look at a gifted horse's mouth?" Ruby repeated.

"Uh, no...." I then gave her my example again.

"Never lick a gifted horse in the mouth?" Ruby tried a second time.

"NO!" I repeated my original idiom yet again. This was going nowhere! Meanwhile my mother was giggling her head off and offering her own feeble attempts at clarifying for Ruby, but to no avail. Finally, Ruby at least got the phrase correct, even if she didn't exactly understand it....

"What in the heck does that mean?" she asked, more confused than ever.

"Well, it means that if someone gives you something, you should accept it graciously."

At this point, we'd lost all hope of defining "idiom" in favor of simply getting her to understand the idiom itself. I'm still not sure how successful we were.

See what I mean? I'm not a dictionary, people! Hey...that just gave me an idea. (Pardon me-- I have a dictionary to hunt down and provide for Ruby Jane.)

Parenting issue solved! Should be smooth sailing from here on out.

Show And Tell

When I "checked in" almost 2 weeks ago, I had no idea it would take me this long to actually post again. To be honest, it's been a bit rough around here lately. I've had a dig a little deeper to find the humor in anything...until yesterday.

Yesterday I went grocery shopping. Not very amusing in and of itself (it's usually drudgery, right?) until I headed for the checkout line and discovered a white-haired lady behind the counter. She seemed like any other white-haired lady, and then she opened her mouth.

"Hello there, darlin'! And what can I do for you today?"

On screen, those words don't appear to be that abnormal (even if it's a tad abnormal for a checker to ask you what you need from them). But because of the way she said it, I instantly wondered if I'd stumbled into some sort of non-traditional Kindergarten setting. I looked around. This is a grocery store, right? Yes, all adults here. I looked back at the lady.

"Er...I just have some groceries today." Did I give the correct answer, Mrs. Kindergarten?

"Well, zippity-doo-da! I can help!"

I was instantly thrown back into childhood and an overjoyed feeling washed over me at her news. She can help me-- yay! Wait a minute.... Of course she can-- it's her job!  I reminded myself this woman was not my Kindergarten teacher; she was a checker.

"Ohhhhhh, bad news bears! Did you mean to grab the buy-one-get-one-free chips?" She frowned deeply, studying my two bags of Lays potato chips.

"Yes...." Suddenly, I was five again and dismayed, "Did I do it wrong?"

"Let me just skidaddle over there real quick and check, okay hon?"

"Okay!" Please help me, Mrs. Kindergarten-- I didn't mean to do it wrong! It's just so hard finding the right buy-one-get-one-free chips sometimes! I waited for her to return, hands wringing.

"Good news! You got the right chips! Now, what's the problem with this silly old machine?" She tapped her screen a few times until the checker next door interrupted.

"It comes off at the end of the transaction," the gal said, voice flat. Clearly it was not unusual to have to explain things to Mrs. Kindergarten.

The older woman turned back to me, "Well, they just do it different every time, don't they? But we'll get it taken care of real quick, so don't you worry!"

Oh, what a relief! I knew she wouldn't let me down. I'm going to make it to first grade after all!

I swiped my credit card and was given some final instructions about using the touchpad.

"Now be careful with that mean ol' Mr. Pen, he doesn't work very well."

I gingerly held the pen and successfully signed my name. Phew-- crisis averted! Mean ol' Mr. Pen must have been in a good mood that day.

"You just go and have the most wonderful day now, okay?" She smiled and handed me my bags.

"You too!" I chirped. I did it-- I graduated! Yay me!

I got to my car and put my bags in the backseat, reality crashing into me as I realized I was old enough to drive. And the groceries I just bought? They were for my children. Hmmm, yes, I'm 34-years old, I remember now. I looked back at the grocery store, and for a quick second I could have sworn the sign said, "Market Elementary".

Checking In!

Yes, I'm still alive.
No, I haven't forgotten about my blog.
Yes, I've been busy (come over sometime and see the new place!)
No, I'm not going to post today.
Yes, I will soon.

Much love to all those who faithfully check! But for now, why not just amuse yourselves by going through some old posts? (Or do I flatter myself by assuming that will amuse you?)  Anyway, I'll be back soon-- promise. :)

A New Twist

I had no idea that when Moses parted the Red Sea (powerful sword in hand!) his shark minions helped to destroy the pursuing Egyptian Army. But man, those Egyptians were probably pretty surprised!

1. LM: "Ruby, if you could be any candlestick you wanted, who would you be?"

Ruby: "Why would we be candlesticks?"

LM: "Because the whole school would be cake!"

(It's official, that's one of the weirdest conversations I've ever heard.)

2. LM: (after his sister had irritated him) "Ugh-- Americans!"

(I know, right?)

3. Hubby: (asleep-- sitting up suddenly-- eyes wide) "I'm trying to figure out what just opened...torey-lope lotion." (Then he laid back down.) "All I know is I'm glad I have this beast of a chest to put stuff in...like blankets."

(I almost burst out laughing as he was talking-- I could hardly type!)

4. LM: "I'm gonna need a chalice, Mom. Do we have any chalices?"

Me: "Um...nooooo."

5. Me: "Give me a huge hug and don't let go until I say so."

LM: "Are we done yet?"

Me: "Okay."

LM: "That was very annoying what you just did."

(Maybe, but he had a big ol' smile on his face the entire time-- so it couldn't have been that annoying.)

6. Ruby: (talking about the play LM was creating for the whole family) "You're going to need a script."

LM: "No, Ruby, here's how it's going to work; first, I say something, then, you say something that makes sense back."

(LM just demystified the art of acting. Nice.)

7. LM: "I just like it when people read me action stories...and anything about stealing art."

8. Hubby: (asleep, kicking his legs wildly, yelling at the top of his lungs) "I said get out of here!  Leave NOW!"

(Way to give me a near heart-attack there, buddy.)

9. LM: "What does my breath smell like?"

Ruby: "Sadness, destruction and grief."

(Whoa, that must be some nasty breath!)

10. LM: (in a fevered, sleep-state) "I just want to find my mom!"

Me: "I'm right here, sweetie."

LM: "No! I mean my real mom!"

Me: "Again, that would be me."

(He didn't remember this exchange the next morning.  Looks like someone takes after his dad!)

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Going Once, Going Twice....

Well, we sold our house (barring any crazy unforeseen circumstances, which I've learned really do exist in life). That means we're moving into (gulp) hubby's childhood home in less than a month. And if I wasn't afraid of getting caught, I would regale you with many endearing stories regarding this move, but alas, my no-holds-barred approach to blogging does have its limitations after all.... (Bawk-bawk-bawk-bawk!)

How about a few quotes instead? It's a rather paltry list, but it's all I got! (But, after having gotten a Kindle, I've discovered I can discreetly take notes when/if hubby starts talking in bed as I'm reading. Wahaha! And boy, do I have a good one.)

1. Hubby: (asleep, giggling, then getting serious again) "I tell you what, she'd probably burn her foot and wouldn't even know it, yes sir. I got leather on the brain, baby, leather on the brain...."
(He went on a little longer, but my texting thumbs couldn't keep up. I would like to know what's so fascinating about leather, though.)

2. LM: "Dad's pretty young for his age. He looks old, but he's still pretty young."

3. LM: (whining) "What's for dinner?"
Hubby: "Roadkill...and mustard."
LM: "What?! No! I HATE mustard!"
(But the thought of roadkill was doable?)

4. LM: (getting into the car) "Let's get this road on the show!"

5. LM: "Mom, how much would Carson weigh if she was a hundred pounds?"
(Um, is this a trick question?)

6. (The kids and I were talking about their father's second attempt at a stache-- this time General George Custer being the look he's after...yikes.)
LM: "Who knows, Mom, you might even get a baby out of it!"
Me: "A baby...?"
LM: "Yeah-- 'cause Dad's gonna be sexy! And sex is the secret ingredient!"
Me: "Uhhhhh...."
LM: (squealing with excitement) "I'm so excited! You're going to have a baby!"
(Just remember, bud, there is no "sexy" in "mustache"-- there's just..."ache".)

7. LM: (after correctly spelling all his words for the week) "Well done, myself! Very well done!"
(Nothing like a little self-affirmation.)

Wish us luck as we move!  Invitations to come see the "new" place will be forthcoming.

The LPB

A hug! He gave me a freakin' hug! (You'll have to pardon my French, but it's completely apropos considering it's my Aspie mentee we're talking about here.)

A hug may seem like a simple enough affair, especially for those of you who know LM and just how huggable that little dude is. But not all Aspies are as touchy-feely as my LM. The LPB has never gotten in my personal bubble before, so a hug was completely unexpected.  But here I am, starting with the end of the story....

Today was a bit different than usual. When I got to the school The LPB informed me, "I've got my coat on, so we're going outside today."

What? A break in routine? Game on! But, still, I had to double-check. "So...no K'nex today?"

"No-- we can't play K'nex outside."

Oh. Duh. If only Aspie logic was more prevalent in the wide, wide world. Only problem is...I hate going outside. I go outside for three reasons: to get in my car, to take a jog or walk when I'm fed up with my treadmill, or when somebody makes me (which isn't often because, let's face it, I'm a grown-up now). I don't like to go hang out in the great outdoors. Blech! Yet, it's not all about me, is it?

But first we had to eat lunch. And I noticed The LPB eyeing my juice. "You...uh...want my juice?"

"Yep," he said, grabbing it and handing me his chocolate milk.  "We'll trade today." He then made short work of my apple-berry blend.

"You wanna see somethin' fun?" I asked, a wicked gleam in my eye. "But we gotta wait until those Kindergartners pass by first," I whispered conspiratorially. We watched the little guys traipse past on their way to the lunch line, trying to look as innocent as possible. When they were out of sight, I blew up the juice pouch and set it on the floor. Then I stomped on it; hard. What I was trying to do was send the straw flying across the room. But what happened in reality was that a spray of juice rocketed over the carpet, the straw staying firmly in place. (Guess I should have made sure the pouch was empty first. Oops.)  I know I should have been mortified, but we laughed our heads off. I'd never seen him laugh before.

Then we headed outside, whereupon I learned my fate for the rest of our time together. I was to become a bomb deactivator. I have no employable skills in this area, but I accepted the job regardless. (Don't let anyone tell you Aspies don't have imaginations. They just have...different ways of actualizing their imaginary worlds than us neuro-typicals.)  The LPB has a very literal, logical imagination. For instance, when I took out my keys and said, "Wait a minute! I have a bomb deactivating tool! Look!" he stared at my keys and stated, "those are keys."  "I know they're keys! But we're pretending!"  Hey, if he was taking me outside my box, I certainly wasn't going to let him stay all comfy-cozy in his.

I also learned that to play in LPB's world means to do everything he tells me to and to keep my ideas to myself; he doesn't want or need them.

"Hey! I think I see a suspicious-looking building over there! Must be a bomb nearby!"

"No, that's just a storage shed. There's no bomb in there."

"Oh." And so on.

But by the time we went inside, I'd learned a thing or two about saving the elementary school from bomb-laying evil-doers. We marched inside to meet his class, all lined up in the hallway. We were smiling and rosy-cheeked from running around the field in search of bombs. And that's when he hugged me. I was saying goodbye, and didn't even expect him to acknowledge it. let alone initiate physical contact.

I won't see him next Monday (President's Day), but that hug will last me until our next "appointment".

A Pox On Us!

Chickenpox, round two!  That's right, LM finally got 'em (three weeks after Ruby's bout).  I can attest to the fact Ruby had them way worse, yet LM is far-and-away the more vigorous complainer and less easily appeased of the two.  Apparently a man's inability to handle sickness starts early in life.  (No offense to any of you macho exceptions out there, of course!)  But c'mon gals, can I get an amen?

1. LM: (trying to get by his sister) "Can I get through?"
Ruby: "No."
LM: "Why?"
Ruby: "Because you exist!"
LM: "What does exist mean?"
Ruby: "It means you're real."
LM: "I can't go through because I'm real?"
(Suddenly, her original proclamation doesn't seem so bitingly witty anymore.)

2. LM: "Mom, let's buy our favorite animal, cut it open, and offer it to God-- you know, like a sacrifice."
Me: "But we don't have to do that anymore.  Jesus came and was the last sacrifice on our behalf."
LM: "Well, Mom, God likes it when we give extra sacrifices."
(Somehow, I don't think dead animals is what He's after.)

3. Me: "LM, your zipper's down."
LM: "Oh, are the horses leaving the barn?"
Me: "...Um...no, they're still in there...."
(I believe the phrase he was looking for was "the barn door's open".  Dang, now I have imagery I need to remove from my head.)

4. LM: (looking at the freshly falling snow outside) "Uh, Mom-- this is a little crazy, but...I think Christmas is coming back!"
(Yeah, in about 10 1/2 months.)

5. LM: (talking about what he'd say if someone bullied Ruby) "If you put a hand on my sister, I'll put a hand on your FACE!!"
(You may know by now that, for better or worse, I don't discourage this sort of talk.)

6. The Mister: (after cracking an egg and missing the bowl entirely, he stares at the mess) "That's not my best work."
(Ah, but I beg to differ....  I believe that may indeed be as good as it gets.)

7. Hubby: (asleep) "Huuuuuuuhhhhh!  There it is-- THANK YOU, JESUS!"
("Thank you, Jesus" being yelled out in a child's sing-song manner.)

8. LM: (playing Clue, and offering a colorful guess) "It was Colonel Mustard, in the Hallway-- he shot the victim dead cold."

9. LM: "Mom, is it true on your second date you have to have French?"
Me: (stunned silent, wondering where he heard about French kissing.)
LM: "Mom! Did you and Dad eat French on your second date?"
Me: (relief flooding over me as I realize he's talking about food) "Oh!  No, we didn't.  You can eat whatever you want on your second date."
(As long as it's not each other's faces.)

10. LM: (having me compare pet weight to people weight) "How much would 2 Carsons weigh?"
Me: "That would be about one Ruby."
LM: "How much would one Carson and one puppy be?"
Me: "About one you."
LM: "How much would 100 Carsons be?"
Me: "Oh, gosh, I don't think---"
LM: "One Popi?"
Me: "Not even close, bud."
(Popi's more like three Carsons and a Chihuahua.)

Have a wonderful day, everyone!  We're about to start yet another movie here-- I've lost count.  (Don't judge me too harshly.)  Apparently my inability to handle the boy's sickness is just as dismal as his own.