weapons of massdistraction

Raising a special needs child is as wonderful and frustrating as raising any other child (I would imagine), but sometimes in different, unique ways. Our little man has Sensory Integration Dysfunction to deal with, among other issues. One of the features of which is that he’s still compelled to put any and everything in his mouth, as an infant does, for the tactile sensation. Now that he’s no longer an infant, however, my strategies have had to evolve. Instead of just snatching objects away from him, or pulling them out of his mouth, I first ask him to cease and desist. Then try to offer an explanation regarding why it’s a bad idea to have certain objects in his mouth (aside from their inherent filthiness, after he’s retrieved them from various floors). But it’s especially hard to cope with this behavior while I’m driving the car, with him out of reach behind me. Yesterday afternoon I happened to look back while we were idling at a stop light. He had a penny in his mouth. Our ensuing conversation was as follows:

Me: “Honey, please take that penny out of your mouth.”
LM: “No.”
Me: “Yes. It’s dirty, and dangerous.”
LM: “No it’s not.”
Me: “Yes, yes it is.”
LM: “No it’s not.”

*pause while counting to ten and taking deep breaths*

Me: “Honey, you could choke on it…and die.”

*pause*

LM: “You crazy mom.”
Me: *sighing, while thinking that’s beside the point*

LM: “I not going to die.”

Eventually he handed over the money, all three pennies and a dime, with great reluctance. Who knows where he’d picked it up. Perhaps on the floor at the hardware store. Yeee-uck.

A cloud of crankiness has inexplicably descended upon our household this weekend. We’ve thought it best to stay put in order to spare the outside world from our extreme crabbiness, but the boredom isn’t helping matters much.
To spare the little man from overhearing my vulgarities, I’ve found myself holding my tongue and instead flipping off the husband more frequently. Only when the little man is not looking, of course.
Back when the boy was still wee I bought him a pair of plaid boxer shorts, more for the novelty than anything. But he’s been wearing them the past couple of years, paired with a t-shirt, as summertime jammies. Sadly he recently became aware of the frontal opening, and now refuses to wear them on the grounds that they are damaged goods, having a “hole” in them. I’ve tried reasoning with him, and telling him that they are supposed to be that way, and explaining why, but it’s no use. Guess I’ll just have to sew up the front.
Speaking of sleep, not long ago the husband was exhausted after working two consecutive night shifts. Our bedroom is excessively bright during the day (note to self: acquire some room darkening drapes) and so he’s been wearing a sleep/eye mask. As he was stumbling off to bed I asked him why he had attached lego pieces to both sides of said mask. He responded “to keep the sleep fairies in”. Naturally he wouldn’t allow photographic evidence of this curiousity.

Last I heard Minnesota was a swing state, but Yo La Tengo is skipping us on their upcoming pep rally/tour. The closest they’ll be coming is Madison. But Bush isn’t Saint Paul-shy. He dropped by yesterday, to hang out with his new buddy, our political soul-selling mayor. I had every intention of heading down to the DFL demonstration with the little man, to give voice to my disgust. But the rain clouds cleared up and the playground started calling us. So we ventured there instead, where, from the bluffs, the clear view of downtown St. Paul only served to remind me of my transgression…what with all the extra police cars and secret service vehicles converging on the Xcel Center. The helicopters hovering and circling overhead did little to assuage my guilt either. But the little man was all smiles, running and jumping and having an all-around good time. He even fell asleep without any fuss, while watching men’s gymnastics with mama. Before dozing off he was fixated by the floor exercise routines, telling me he was going to jump just like that. I’m guessing he had some pretty sweet dreams last night.

The real Barrett Chase’s recent story made me think of a similar incident in my past. In high school I had more friends than enemies, but it was still a time of high drama. Being the young loudmouth that I was (am?) I frequently found myself facing off with my detractors. I could handle the ones who were up front about their grievances or opinions. To those who’d nicknamed me Qadaffi’s daughter (they’d gotten Lebanon, home of my forebears, confused with Libya) I’d either suggest they look at a map, or shake my head and laugh off their ignorance. That I could deal with. It was the sneaky, snaky, smear campaigns and catty attacks that caused me the most trouble. Thus it was that I went home one evening to find my mother glaring daggers at me, which wasn’t particularly odd, but then she asked me to explain myself. I looked at her blankly, racking my brains to determine what infraction of mine she may have become aware of. She interrupted my contemplation to cut to the chase. The local video store had called, requesting the return of an overdue movie. A movie of a salacious nature…that had been checked out by, you guessed it, someone using my name. I don’t know if my mother believed my protestations of innocence, but to resolve the matter she dragged me down to the video store in question. The owner took one look at me and realized we’d all been had (I guess carding wasn’t common practice at that point in time). My suspicions regarding the offender’s true identity were never confirmed, but I’m 99% certain I know who it was. Some time later that same video store owner was in hot water…for allegedly creating peepholes with a view of the tanning bed changing rooms. Perhaps he’d seen more of my impersonator than she bargained for. Mutant pale though I am, this makes me quite glad I’ve never set foot (or ass, or teakettle) in a tanning bed.

The husband must be trying to recapture the glory days of his wasted youth or something. Recently he’s become fascinated by BMX videos, but they leave me feeling conflicted. I loved this sort of thing when I was a teenager (watching more skate videos than BMX) but now as I watch, I’m simultaenously thinking “wow, that’s really cool” and “oh god, their poor mothers”, especially when the lads ride helmet-less. But I don’t get that gratuitous handlebar wiggling. While I understand it adds a certain degree of difficulty, I think it looks kinda dorky. The female skaters are cooler anyhow.