Ah, Mondays. Normally I don't mind Mondays. Being a stay at home mom, there isn't a lot of difference in days. Most weeks I very much welcome Mondays and the routine it brings. Not to mention Jacob goes back to school and I know I have a few hours to myself while the baby girl naps in the afternoon.
I woke this morning in a great mood. A little earlier than normal, and actually feeling the best I have in weeks from fighting a nasty sinus infection. (Thank you antibiotics for working!) Jacob had snuggled in beside me sometime after 6:00 am when his dad had left for work. Usually Jacob turns the TV on right away despite my protests, but today he had fallen back asleep. I love seeing Jacob asleep. He is so peaceful. I carefully got out of bed trying not to wake my sleeping angel, and hurried to jump in the shower figuring he would be awake when I got out. No such luck. Hmmm.....never good with Jacob. Waking him can be like waking a giant. Honestly, I dread it because I'm not sure how it is going to play out, and can set the tone for the entire day. I waited until the very last minute hoping he would wake on his own, but by 7:30 I had to wake him. Sure enough he was in rare form. "Mommy, get off of here!" "But Jacob it is my bed." "Can't you see I am trying to sleep?" The morning proceeded from there. We were hurrying because I had let him sleep in, and he was grumpy. But we got out the door, and I said a prayer that he would have a good day and come home in a better mood.
Now that Jacob was at school I could deal with the real problem at hand. The baby girl has recently found her nose, and let's just say she likes it a lot! Apparently she felt like it was a good place to store her extra dinner for later when she needed a snack. You would have thought that my husband and I pinning her down on Saturday night with flashlight and tweezers in hand to get the corn kernels out of her nose would have been a traumatic enough experience, but oh no, she still managed to put her peas and her bread in her nose Sunday night. No matter how hard we tried, we couldn't get it out. So that's what brought me to the pediatrician's office so early on a Monday morning. She did in fact have more bread in her nostril, and got plenty of laughs from everyone in the office. We left reassured that was the last of the food in her nose.
So the baby girl and I left the doctor's and headed to the grocery store. I knew after yesterday's ice cream fiasco, I did not dare forget to stock some chocolate brownie ice cream in the freezer for Jacob. With our cart full, we headed to the check out. The cashier made a pleasant comment about the baby girl and then quickly turned her head in disgust. You know that look, where they are smiling with adoration at your beautiful child when suddenly their face turns to complete horror. Their mouth drops, their eyes become wide and they turn their head as if they are witnessing Satan's baby itself. I knew instantly that something was hanging out of my baby girl's nose. I looked to the baby girl, and sure enough some large something or other I'm guessing last night's dinner was hanging out of her left nostril. With nothing to wipe it, I hurried to pay and then pushed out to the van for a tissue. But it wasn't budging. And before I could get a good swipe, she sucked it back up. Gross, I know!
At home the remainder of my day was spent trying to get the mystery food out of my daughter's nose. It was like a scene straight out of Mission Impossible. Right as I would get close to accomplishing my mission, she would wiggle away or worse yet, snuff the nastiness straight back up her nose. After days of poking and prodding, she wanted nothing to do with it and refused to let me near her honker. I doused her with nasal saline, put her to bed for a nap, and waited until 3:30 for pick up time for Jacob.
Oh, please let him be happy when I pick him up, I was thinking as we walked up to the school. We were walking Jacob's friend who is also on the Autism Spectrum home today. Jacob seemed in a great mood, and so we were off on our short trek home. We weren't even half way across the playground when Jacob decided he was cold and needed his jacket on. His friend looked at me and asked, "Will we be home by 4:00? I really need to get going to get home by 4:00." Like Jacob his buddy has his routines and needs to be home by 4:00. I knew this and tried hurrying Jacob along. But for a boy with lacking fine motor skills, zipping a coat is not an easy task. After the fourth attempt we were back on our way, and then I heard it. That familiar tune known by every child out there in every suburb, the ice cream truck. Sure enough as we rounded our house, there was the truck at the top of the hill already surrounded by a flock of kids.
"Ice cream! Ice cream! I want ice cream!" Jacob shouted. "Not now, Jacob. We need to get your friend home," I told him as I noticed his friend continuing down the sidewalk towards his house. I kept walking pushing the baby girl along and taking hold of his friend's hand, thinking all along Jacob would follow. But instead he sat down on the drive way not willing to move. I still kept going, figuring he would eventually get up. And that's when our neighbor girl came running out of her house money in hand saying, "Jacob, I have $5.00 and I'm getting ice cream!"
That's all it took. Jacob jumped up and took off running up the street away from us and towards the ice cream truck. Ok, what to do? My son is running up the street angry, screaming that he is going to get ice cream even though he has no money so it is an impossible task, while my baby girl and the boy I am responsible for are in the opposite direction. I knew that it was nearing 4:00 and I could tell Jacob's friend was getting anxious. Thankfully my neighbor happened to be outside and quickly stepped in to watch the kids, while I took off running up hill chasing Jacob worried that he would run wildly out into the ice cream truck's path. As I catch him I am out of breath, and he is furious that I have no money and am refusing him ice cream. I may have to consider training for a marathon so I am prepared for the next time he takes off.
Somehow I managed to get Jacob back to our driveway where at this point everyone had convened. Jacob is still screaming and very mad at me. I get him in the house and he is demanding ice cream telling me that I had better have bought him brownie ice cream at the store. Oh no, my dear child, kids that talk to their mom that way do not get to have ice cream!! Of course this made him even more furious and confirmed his beliefs from yesterday that I am indeed the meanest mommy ever.
It took a while, but I got him mildly calmed down. Somehow during this madness I noticed the large nastiness hanging out of the baby girl's nose again. I swooped in from over top as silent as a stealth bomber finally completing my mission. Ah...it was bread! That's the mystery food in the nose! Thank God it came out and not another copay needed.
After cleaning up the baby girl's nose, I found Jacob laying in my bed watching TV . The ice cream was forgotten, and I thought the madness was behind us. My husband got home, and upon walking in noticed our neighbor girl, Jacob's friend who had gotten ice cream, outside playing and suggested to Jacob to head outside and play with her until dinner was ready. It was probably a bad call on our part considering the blow up after school. Typically once Jacob has one fit, he is on edge and ready to explode for the remainder of the day. After twenty minutes, my husband went over to get Jacob for dinner, and came home carrying a screaming, kicking child. Jacob had spit at his friend. Not acceptable. And over something so silly, beanie babies of all things. Jacob had wanted to take them home even though just a few months back he had me remove all stuffed animals from his room because they bothered him, yet now he was coveting his neighbor's beanie baby collection from the 90's. Turns out he just wasn't ready to go home and they actually had been playing rather nicely together until dad showed up to break up the party announcing dinner was ready.
And so Jacob was sent to his room for the remainder of the night other than for dinner. He also lost his animals and his Nintendo DS, both very much favorites. I'm hoping it makes an impact going forward this week, but more than likely not. But we had to do something. We couldn't let him think spitting at a friend is ok. I talked with him about how our neighbor girl may not want to be friends with him after this, but he insisted that she would. At some point his friends will not be so forgiving of his outbursts.
Thankfully the day was coming to an end. With only one hour left before bedtime, my husband and I went back and forth as to whether Jacob should be doing his homework since he was being punished and we also knew that it could cause another blowup that neither of us had the energy for. Much to Jacob's protests, we decide that yes he needs to do it, when I hear my husband say, "You have got to be kidding me!" The book sent home for Jacob to read and write about was entitled "A Scare in the City" and detailed a major city having an emergency and people getting trapped in elevators and trains. Seriously! Why would this book be sent home for any first grader let alone one with severe anxiety issues. No way would we let our son read something that could be the next disaster movie to hit the theaters. So we opted for one of our own books, and the night wound down.
Later as I am heading to bed, I hear Jacob "eeeeeee"ing from his bed. It is a calming sound he makes. Usually when he does it in his sleep he is either stressed, getting sick, or cold. I walk in to find his covers on the floor. My heart softens to the day as I watch my baby boy quietly sleep as if the craziness of the day hadn't occurred. As I crawl into bed and close my eyes I reflect on the days happenings. Today was a day I'd like a due over. Is there something I could have done differently? Was all of Jacob's anger still carrying over from yesterday? So call it what you want "Just Another Manic Monday" or "Ice Cream Part Deux", it doesn't matter because this was my day, my crazy, crazy day.
And then my eyes open with panic when I realize the baby girl has her first dental appointment in the morning. Oh, please God, not a Part Three!
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