One Perfect Day

I have seriously had the best day! I have to share it and don't crap on me because this is BIGTIME in the Unperfect household. On every level.


When I tucked Cyclone into bed last night he mentioned making me breakfast in bed. Lo and behold - after an uninterrupted sleep for both of us, I woke to hear movement in the kitchen. I lolled about, loving that I woke up on my own (no cats on face, dog snuffling at the door or an elbow in my face) and soon saw a grinning Cyclone face peering into my room. Look mummy!


He did it! The little monkey filled the kettle and boiled it, got out the toaster and the toast fixings, knocked on The Batchelors bedroom door and asked for help with the kettle and presented me with tea and Vegemite toast in bed.




After a lovely breakfast we got dressed no complaining and decided to seize the day with a short bike ride. We headed to the local school for a meeting to enrol Cyclone for next term. He was nervy but delicious, and played fairly quietly whilst we all discussed his future and funding issues. All went well.


Feeling pretty confident we headed to the shopping centre to buy a pair of scissors and craft paper. Job done quickly. I found a pair of 3/4 pants for summer on sale and recklessly decided to try on a pair in size 10.


OMG they fit!!! Bought a pair in black and one in grey. Arrhythmia inducing stress must have benefits after all.



Yeah bitches SIZE TEN.


Cyclone wants a drink but doesn't like the choices available. Nearly melts down. Breathes instead. Chooses drink and skips off.


I really start pushing it and buy some henna to dye my tresses. Decide not to push it further.....until I walk past a cheap haircut place ("no appointment needed!, cash only!"). I stop. I ponder. Ah FUCK IT, I never have the time for a cut. My hair grows quickly so even if they stuff it up I'll get over it. It can't be worse than long, long, long boringness and borrowing Betty Boos hairclips. Cant it?


I breathe in deeply and let it out when I see my stylist is a stunning asian guy with an amazing precision cut I can't stop staring at. He chops about 4 inches out and layers it perfectly...and listens seriously when I beg him not to 'feather' it about my jawline. He cuts in my fringe (WAY BIG DEAL TO ME) better than I hoped.


Cyclone has sat still the entire time. Katy Perry blasts through the speakers and I notice his little head bobbing and feet tapping. "It's ok to dance baby" I tell him. So he does - not over the top but enough to have the entire place grinning. I don't bother wondering how an child with such anxiety can dance in front of strangers..I just drink him in.


I walk out with the cut of my dreams.....for THIRTY FIVE DOLLARS.


We spend the afternoon cutting, pasting and watching "The Deadly 60" (shudder) on T.V.


I spend nearly an hour having a great chat with my 18 year old who is right in the midst of her final year exams. She has just ACED one and we have high hopes of her getting into Nursing/Midwifery at university next year.


Betty calls me from daddy's house to say goodnight. Cyclone hops into bed clutching all his stuffed dogs and we talk about our Perfect Day. Cyclone starts getting upset and I hope a meltdown isn't on the way....he is crying because "I just want to be the best boy in the world but it's sooo hard". Crises averted when I ask him to take care of my childhood doll Molly.


I can't wipe the smile off my face. I feel so NORMAL. My head isn't pounding, my stomach isn't in knots and the vodka bottle sits unopened on the shelf.


So I have a drink for Celebration rather than Medicinal purposes and bop around the house channelling Spongebob Squarepants.





"It's the beeeest daaay evveeeer!"

The state of our hearts

The usual day routine in the Unperfect household are like this *no artistic licence*.

Breakfast isn't ready fast enough.
Breakfast is "wrong".
The cat is purring too loud.
Sesame Street is STUPID - get it OFF!
Don't want to get dressed.
Betty is dancing in front of the telly. *screaming and fights
Socks are stupid.
Screaming because I missed the ad for Cats and Dogs.
Doesn't want to get in the car, rides bike instead.
Fights to get in the car first.
Screaming because the seat belt won't go in.
Screaming because the traffic lights are red.

"I don't want to read, reading is STUPID, SUCKY and POO."

And so on and so forth.

Aspies are notoriously glass half full kinda kids. I'm ok with it, although it is very wearing my little guy really sparkles and those moments refill me through the negativity.


Last night sucked hard.


I was tired tired tired at 5pm. Usually I don't feel it until after the kids are in bed. Cyclones constant chatter somehow got too much so I set him up on the bench with a can of shaving cream (he loves writing and drawing in it) and asked "please, please don't talk for a little while honey - mummy's head is about to explode".

"Ok, mum - look at my hands!" I nod and smile.

He stops.

"I know it's my fault mum"


My heart freezes. What baby?


"I just know it's my fault - why you are feeling this, and I feel so sorry for you."






My heart cracked and fell onto the floor. Then I picked it up and jammed it back into my ribcage.


I looked up, faked a sneeze to cover the welly eyes but Cyclone had already taken off to watch The Simpsons.



Tomorrow is a Bran Nu Dae and we promise each other to be the best we ever can be, but I can't sleep because I'm frightened I'll hear those words again and worry about the state of my little boys heart.

Betty Boo goes AWOL

I finally sorted out my last few months of digital photos. Loaded them onto my laptop, categorised and named all folders. Yay and Woo Hoo for me.

I came across a random pic I must have loaded about 2 years ago. Betty Boo, beautiful child must have been about 2 years old and it brought back this memory I want to write down.


I was preparing to go back to work full time. The children were booked into daycare and I was busy making extra meals to freeze. I had sorted all the clothes, bought the little ones new back packs to take spare clothes and drink bottles and organised for Teen Queen to pick them up on the days I would be home late.

All was quiet. Too quiet - y'all know what I mean.

I popped my head into the lounge room and noted Cyclone was mesmerised by the television. Check. I found Teen Queen in her room writing angsty poetry by candlelight. Check.

Where was little Betty Boo? I looked in her bedroom. No. Not in Cyclones room. I raced to my bedroom - not there pillaging my clothes or makeup. Not in the backyard or front garden. All gates are firmly secure to guard the escape of the dogs/kids. Not in the toilet, bathroom...or anywhere.

I am just about to freak when I tell myself top stay calm and recheck.

And I found her.





Can you see?

She is under her new Hi 5 backpack. When I did the first headcount I just didn't see her there, curled up asleep under the bag that was nearly as big as she was. You can see Cyclone's back in the shot - still sucked in by the telly.


Tiny little baby girl. So excited about being a big girl with her own bag.

*sigh

WHY I'm so feckin tired.

I kinda forget to mention that I am now at work full time again. In fact I have taken on 2 new roles.







One as a teacher 4 days a week, and another 5 days a week as Personal Assistant to a high maintenance, egocentric young man. Otherwise known as my son Cyclone.

Yep, if you read my other blog HERE, you'll know the drill but in short I am now homeschooling Cyclone, and fighting my way through the raft of paperwork, phone calls, interviews, discussions, appointments with Occupational Therapists and Neurological experts.

Betty Boo now goes to daycare 2 days a week and kinder for the other 2. The poor kid needs something to herself - for the last few months (lets face it, longer than that) it's all been about Cyclone and the race against time to get his Autism funding. She has patiently sat next to me colouring in whilst I tap away on the laptop and take multiple phone calls and although I feel terrible about it, hopefully I'm clearing the way for more time with the Betty.

She is such a little mummas girl, and being my last baby I've always thought of her as my little dress up dolly. That I can't play with very often *sigh.

It looks like the worst parts are over now and if I get everything right, Cyclone will be back at school next term giving me more time. I've decided to hold her back from starting school next year too. She will begin at the age of 4 if I start her next year, I'm sure she will be fine if she did start - but this last year or so have been such a mess and horribly unfair for her. I think she will benefit greatly from another year at home and some time with her mummy, who looks forward to entire days playing whatever games she wants me to.

I said I would and I AM!

I told you I was going to write every single day for a month.


I haven't missed a day, I've been posting over here at Lulu & The Cyclone.

Things have been busy in Cyclone word. He is still cool as shit though....

Betty the Unsqueaky Wheel

So many days I feel guilty for my dear Betty Boo. She is never really the centre of attention because I'm always dashing off one way or another to sort Cyclone, talk to a tradie/schoolteacher/sibling/teenager whilst she sits quietly drawing.
I do my best in the small amounts of time we have alone to do girly things together but I worry it's not enough.

Sometimes she is well and truly being sick of being in the background and she gives me hints by climbing onto the table during dinner to sing I'm A Little Teapot or can't go to sleep because "my face is green".

I always thought she was just a Zen child. She seems to take everything in her stride with an ethereal smile - I've finally realised this is a very deliberate act. She doesn't want to be the squeaky wheel getting all the attention, it's not conducive to getting up to no good. Or getting revenge and stuff.



Butter hands, butter feet, butter legs. She managed to do this when I was making bread rolls right across the bench from her. A whole stick of butter.

She isn't like other kids - having to wait till mummy is on the phone till they draw on the walls she can do it when I am right in front of her.

I should have known there would be more to the Zen act when she was only 18 months old. Cyclone used to torment her and she didn't seem to mind. Then one day as I was emptying the bin and I found one of Cyclones favorite toys. I would find them in there quite often. So she never did take it lying down, my Betty Boo would wait until no one was looking and calmly toddle to the bin and dispose of a toy train or two....

Non violent resistance at its best?

I gots me a new blawg

Lulu and The Cyclone.

There is alot happening here in Cyclone Town. He deserves a blog of his own - the adventure has been a long and LOUD one, and I also need to track how things are going and look back on how we got here.



Anyhoo, if you have a child on the Spectrum you will already know what I'm on about, and if you have no clue about Autism/Aspergers or no idea what Sensory Integration Dysfunction is - have a look about and join the ummmm ....fun.

If you are relatively new to my rantings, please check out these past posts for a chuckle.Oh I love that kid.

Pearlers from The Cyclone


Cyclone and the Very Nice Policeman

ETA - links fixed now

Plans out the window!

Betty Boo had a restless night last night.

I had a full day of running around planned, and that included a meeting at the school at 12pm.

I hope I can get through this mess by then, I can't take her out looking like this!

I'm armed with detangler and 3 different combs.

Cool School Photos

I can't wait to get Cyclones first school photos. Even more so because they are so cool.

I was thrilled to see the way they do the school photos - geeze they are expensive even in kinder.
I have been going through alot of old photos recently and found my stash of school pics of both Teen Queen and what really stood out - apart from my Yr12 photo wearing a Guns N Roses T-shirt and black jeans stoned out of my tree *cringe *giggle - was how "stiff" they are.

There are the few grins, a lot of vaguely uptight looks and really no one is having fun.

Not at Cyclones little school. They take the usual individual shots and the class ones. They also do friend and family groups and the kids can do whatever they want. No stiff poses and unsure smiles here! The kids are clowning around, arms around each other and true, happy smiles everywhere.
Also on offer is a full school pic. Every student and teacher and as many animals as they can round up on the day.

You should see the class shots - all the kids get into ridiculous poses and pull faces with their teacher right alongside them all.

Now THAT's the kind of class photo I want....

Am I a Mummy Blogger???

AAarrggchhhhh!

Massive crisis of confidence - all from joining a new site Aussie Mummy Bloggers, built by the lovely Brenda at MummyTime.

Actually it started when I noticed my blog was listed somewhere under "Mummy Bloggers" and I thought hhmmmm. Well yes I do have children and they do supply a fair bit of my material click here for anything you might have missed btw.....well I suppose I am.

So I join the Mummy Blogger site and cruise around checking out other blogs, the more I click the more I cringe. Should I even be here?


I hate craft, scrapbooking makes me want to stick a fork in my eye.
I use the word fuck. I talk about penises.
I don't have a 'button'. Every else does.
There are lots of whimsical tales of cute kids.....mine call the police on me.
I sometimes post recipes but the instructions often have the word 'whatever' and bugger all measurements.
I don't have stacks of fabulous pictures to illustrate the sometimes massive blocks of text and no one will tell me where I can find them.
I don't seem as dedicated as some. I mean I am - blogging is my outlet, I'm just not sure I'm outletting the way a 'mummy blogger' is supposed to *snort






We'll see....until then I remain perfectly Unperfect cos that's how I roll.

It's my bed...MY BED.

Apparently.




Sigh. I love them, I loved co-sleeping, I love how warm their little bodies are but I love starfishing all over MY bed just as much.

Cyclone is just so sweet. I hear a tiny voice coming from the doorway "muuuum, muuuuuuuum, mummy....can I come in your bed?" I prise my eye open to see the little fellow clutching all 4 toy dogs he sleeps with, red cheeks and eyes blinking drowsily. I scoot over and pull the doona back for him and wait for him to put his cold feet on my back.

Betty Boo is more a stealth operator. She doesn't ask, just wiggles in and most of the time I don't notice she is there until morning.

This doesn't happen all the time but if I get one child in.....pretty soon the other follows. I think they have some sort of radar. I'm always in the middle to avoid 'sleep fighting' (I'm serious, they even throw punches with their eyes closed) and therefore end up with about 20 centimeters of mattress and can't roll over.

With my electric blanket collateral damage from the recent hailstorm and the recent cold snap in Melbourne...I think it's gonna be another 2 kid (and 4 dog) night.

Photo Meme of MYSTERYYYYYY

This is fun - Sarah at Just Me tagged me in this, and her pic came with a pretty funny story.

Mine, however does not. (Edited to add, it IS funny but not really a story. Speaks for itself!)




Cyclone. Rice Bubbles. Floor.

Rather pleased the mystery photo didn't end up being the one with Cyclone eating dog biscuits. I'll save that for later.


Here are the instructions if you want to play too:

1. Open the first (oldest) photo folder in your computer library
2. Scroll to the 10th photo
3. Post the photo and the story behind it
4. Tag 5 or more people to continue the thread.

I tag -

E of Whining at the World
Nelle at Growing Nelle
MrsB Where the grass isn't always Greener
Bern at So Now What?
The Fat Lady

Have fun!

Urban Bloodsport

A Sunday Afternoon a-bouncin'



Woo! Cyclone is really getting some air!

Just wait a few minutes....no, seconds before it degenerates into




URBAN CAGEFIGHTING for the under 6's.



Happens EVERY TIME.

HOW TEENAGERS HAPPEN

So they start like this -



8 pounds of chunky goodness. Love a chunky baby, we used to call her Sara Lee because her arms had layer upon layer of little rolls.



Then she turned into a cheeky nordic blonde that loved olives for breakfast



A big primary school girl. That's our Indian Ringneck parrot Bubbalouie who just loves her. Teen Queen inadvertently saved his life when she demanded Scorpio bring him to our house for the weekend so she could take him to show and tell at school on the Monday. Scorpios house burnt down that day and he would have been TOAST.



The secondary school years, loves her sister. Gets a bit of attitude. School sucks and all the teachers are stupid. Note the wrist band as an indication of things to come.

Then before I know it - first school dance and the transformation to full Angsty Teen Queen




and now VCE student studying to be a Midwife. I don't care about the piercings (very much), it's her choice now she is all big and stuff....

sigh



Love them

Sleep....and dreams

Darling girl, beautiful being, mummy's china doll.

After years of mind-tearing refusal to go to sleep.....she has nearly got it right.
Every other parent in the universe can speak of the times they snuck into the nursery just to watch their precious angels sleeping peacefully.

Not me.

From the time Betty Boo was 6 months old to about 2.5 she would literally wake up if I walked into the room, hell if I walked past the room. Ok my floorboards are creaky but they aren't that bad. She would sit bolt upright or jump straight up if she heard me. There were months I slept on the couch rather than wake the sleeping angel at the foot of my bed. I developed a particularly interesting walk during those times. Kind of creeping, walking on the balls of your foot with shoulders hunched to your ears type walk (Hey, I should have applied for tenure at the Ministry of Funny Walks!). I've only now started walking like a catwalk queen again (har de haar).



But tonight I walk into her room (well, sashayed) watch my nearly 4 yr old actually sleeping. She stirs, she rolls over and opens her eyes, smiles sleepily and says -

"Mummy, when I grow up I want to be a watering can." and goes back to sleep.

Oh my precious darling, I think - I love you so much. Shoot for the stars hun - dream of being the watering system for the entire Royal Botanic Gardens........just...stay....asleep.

Cyclone is going to school

Yep, it's time and he is really looking forward to it. Let me introduce you to one of Cyclones fellow students



This is the view from the gazebo where the children wait to be picked up at the end of the day



I know it seems silly driving him 20mins away when there is a perfectly good school 2 streets away. But...not really. Have a look at those pics - I know where I would rather be each day.
At this school, the students take responsibility for the care of the animals. The younger students collect the eggs and put the chooks (heaps of them and all different kinds) away at the end of the day.
The older kids place the horses along the driveway in the morning to mow the grass and put away the bigger animals at night.
The preps sell the eggs at the school market, record sales etc - that's one of the ways they learn maths.

I also love that according to the school handbook - "It is the responsibility of the first year students to locate every puddle in winter".

So my sensory Cyclone wont be considered a problem child if he can't sit still and needs to roll around in the grass during class. If he gets overwhelmed his teacher will see it and send him out to round up the geese or count eggs.
They go on impromptu excursions if the class discussions lead them on a mission, riding lessons in the sports program and the 2nd language is Auslan because the students got bored of Indonesian and voted for it themselves.

Yaaaaaaaaay! Oh and the school is also in the top 10% for science/maths.

BRING IT ON - we are all so excited!

Conversations with the kids

For some reason the children come out with these really interesting questions just as you have kissed them goodnight and are walking out of their bedrooms (and straight to the fridge for a cold one). Scorpio gets sucked in every time and likes to report them so here are a few pearlers from my babies.

Betty Boo - Daddy, who is Christofart Robin?
Scorpio - You mean Christopher Robin? He is Pooh bears best friend.
Betty Boo - NO DADDY, it's ChristoFART Robin, Cyclone told me.
Scorpio - Oh, ok - I still think he is a good friend of poo....

Cyclone - Daddy, what do you do when an octopus jumps on your face?


Cyclone - Daddy what do you do if a big black cat jumps on you?
Scorpio - open a can of cat food.
Cyclone - No dad, a really big one like the size of a leopard and you can't see it because it's black and it jumps out at you.
Scorpio - You don't have to worry about that darling, we don't have big cats like that in Australia
Cyclone - but daddy, what if I'm an adventurer?


I'll end this with the funniest comment I've heard from a 5 yr old in a LONG time. He didn't want to go to bed and when told by Scorpio that's certainly where he was going "You're NOT my daddy, you are just mummy's boyfriend"

So wrong on so many counts but he does his best to push buttons ha ha ha ha ha!

Other terrible things my children have done to me...

A classic from the Teen Queen files.

Teen Queen was always independent from the word go. She also seemed to feel no fear, especially at the shops. She would talk to anyone and often wandered off with other families at the supermarket.

Once I watched her walk away from me at a large shopping centre, pushing her doll in the pram. I stood there wondering how far she would get before she remembered I wasn't there.
I watched, and followed and watched and followed....she didn't look back once. From one end of the centre to the other, not a care in the world.
If I had been distracted and not seen her walk off, she might well have gone outside and caught a bus to Timbucktoo before I noticed.
She would have been 2.5 years old.

I knew I had to do something about 'stranger danger' but didn't want to scare the pants off her with "Bad Man will take you away" stories. I ended up warning her that maybe some person she didn't know might want to take her without asking mummy and that was very bad. If that every happened she was to yell loudly "you are not my mummy - or daddy".

So six months later (you know what's going to happen don't you?), we were out somewhere and it was time to go home. She didn't want to go, so after 2 failed negotiations I took her by the hand firmly to pull her towards the door.

Those cornflower blue eyes went a shade darker and like a trooper she stood her ground and screamed YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER, YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER! At the very top of her lungs.

Embarrassed much? I can't quite remember how I got out of there intact because everyone within a 500m radius stopped dead to look. It might have been because we look so alike....maybe. I blocked it out....

000 - a family tradition?

I was chatting to an old friend later on the evening of the Cyclone 000 incident and she reminded me that Teen Queen did that to me at the same age.

Slightly different story though, remember this was the days of Home Alone being the biggest movie of all time.

So Teen Queen (back then she was Awesome Child) was dragging her feet getting ready for school. I had a big day at work and wanted an early start, but she refused to leave the house.
I did what all horrible parents do and walked out the front saying "well I'm off then - bye!". Awesome Child responds with "I'll call the Police and tell them you left me home alone."
Me says - "well you will also have to explain to them that you wouldn't get in the car to go to school" and headed out to the driveway.

Loudly slammed the car door. Nothing
Started the car. Nothing - now come on, this one ALWAYS works
Beeped the horn Nothing
Reversed out the driveway, slowly NOTHING!

I gave up in disgust at knowing she had me over a barrel now, I should not have made a threat I couldn't carry out.

I strode back in the house - just in time to see AC quickly hanging up the phone, looking very guilty indeed.

YES she did call 000 and she was even speaking to the operator when I interrupted. EEKS!

Cyclone and the Very Nice Policeman

So when your child gets to be a certain age you teach them how to call 000 in an emergency. Please, please take extra pains to explain what an emergency is won't you?


Because Cyclone just called 000 because he wasn't happy about being sent to bed with no story.


I did notice the cordless phone lying on the bench beeping away and when I hung it up noticed it had been off the hook for over 2 mins, which puzzled me because usually it does a really LOUD off the hook noise to alert you to it.


Then I saw it had 'ringer off' all over the screen and I spent a good 15 minutes swearing because I can't work out how to get the ringer back ON.


So I'm putting Betty Boo to bed, hear a loud knocking - the dogs go wild, and there are two rather tall police-type men at the door. I assume they are here because of the graffitti that appeared overnight on all fences but mine (gotta love those mutts for something). Looking back I wonder how that thought crossed my mind "Graffiti - let's get to the bottom of that Danno".


Fluffy mutt is trying to break though the security door and Disco dog is trying to jump through the window and I manage to squeeze my way out without letting them through so I can talk to the police in peace only to find out there is a report of a 000 call with no response. BRILLIANT.


I sheepishly explain Cyclones past threats to call the police when he has been in trouble and luckily they think its funny and agree to wait whilst I round up the offender for a good talking to.


Fluffy mutt escapes mid stern talk (which wasn't stern at all because they both were trying their hardest not to laugh) and kind police-type man chases her up the driveway as she goes to attack some mild mannered maltese X being walked by her elderly owner.



Talk over with and finished with "looks like you have your hands full". MUCH? I realised there I was standing in my skanky pink moccasins, Wot Wot headband on (DON'T ASK) with a very embarrassed Cyclone on one side of me and Betty Boo on the other side charming the pants off everyone with 3 different texta colours drawn all over her face and body.


They couldn't get out of here fast enough....laughing all the way.