August 30, 2007 by Marj Hatzell
I’ll tells ya.
Bugaboo is never dull and boring. Every day is an adventure. He keeps life new and exciting, mostly because two days are never the same. You know, like snowflakes? Like people? Like my cooking? Never tastes the same.
Not to out-do my own record, but yesterday I had TEN CHILDREN in my home for the afternoon. Believe it or not, it went mostly smoothly. The girls did their dress-up stuff, the boys played Yu-Gi-Poke-Mon-Oh (whatever!) and they were outside, inside and in between. I even had two extra children with autism here (a favor to a friend who had an IEP meeting) and they stayed for dinner. The good part? My neighbors took Bug Boy for an overnight and the kids insisted it start at three in the afternoon. The bad part? Bugaboo cried for nearly twelve hours yesterday. He was miserable. At one point I actually turned to him (not my finest moment) and said through clenched teeth, “JUST SHUT THE HELL UP! WHAT DO YOU WANT?” This has to be the single-most difficult aspect of being Bugaboo’s mommy. Not that he cries for hours on end. It’s more the fact that he wants something, I know he wants something, he knows he wants something, but we cannot meet somewhere in the middle to figure that out. PECS? Fuhghedaboudit. Signing? He may as well have said, “What’s that?” something tells me that when he squeezed his eyes shut and put his hands behind his back that he wasn’t going to participate in that. He wasn’t happy unless he was screaming. None of us were. At one point my dad, his dog, my dog, the ten kids and I were all in the kitchen having lunch and Bugaboo was biting his hand, screaming, throwing himself down and refusing to point to a picture or to sign back to me. The dogs were happy the kids were dropping PBJ scraps (on purpose! But OF COURSE!) and half the kids there have sensory issues and were holding their ears. I looked at my dad, rolled my eyes and ignored him. That REALLY ticked him off (Bugaboo, not my dad).
When the kids started trickling out for the day and things were calmer, so was Bugaboo. He still cried, insisted on being held (not good for neck injuries or herniated sacral discs. There’s nothing like having muscle spasms in yer butt all day) and wiped his slimy nose all over me. It is a good thing I didn’t wear the black shirt I planned on wearing that day. Black shirts and runny noses DO NOT MIX. In fact, it looks like a slug or snail just crawled across yer shirt. You know, snail tracks? That’s what I call it. I’m thinking of trademarking that term. So don’t steal it while I decide. If you do then I’ll…I will…erm…not like you so much anymore. Thief!
By the time my husband called, the neighbor’s kids were gone with Bug Boy, my niece and nephew were picked up by their mother, my friend’s autistic children were picked up and it was just Bugaboo and Mommy. Darling was headed home, Bugaboo was coming off of another meltdown and was zoning out with the zombie machine watching the Tubbies, the perfect thing to watch when yer little brain is fried. He didn’t even crack a smile at his favorite parts. He sat there, wrapped in his favorite Nemo blanket, getting his brain drained by the Tubbies. I finally sat down with a sigh, drank a cup of tea and wished it was hard liquor (which I don’t drink). Only two more hours to go! When Darling walked in the door Bugaboo was already a goner. He went to bed early at 7:30, except it felt like,oh, MIDNIGHT to me. I was zonked myself. But I was determined to do something I had been itching to do all week but couldn’t because the kids were hogging it: PLAY WII!
So I did. I played Wii. Mindless, fun games. I played Super-Bust-A-Move and Billiards and Bowling and Duck Hunt and other goofy games that I never figured out. Oh, and I kicked Darling’s pants in on Ping-Pong. I actually won a sport! WAHOO! It is a shame I cannot say the same in real life. I played sports growing up, but let’s just say that I wasn’t winning prizes, mmkay? It was more like, “She has nice form. She keeps her eye on the ball.” In other words, “She totally sucks and the only nice thing we can say is that her arm is at a perfect 45 degree angle when she swims freestyle.”
Apparently Wii is a very good aphrodisiac, too. Imagine that! 😉