Saturday, October 8, 2011

Blogging With a Fever...

Nope, can't do it. So here's a sickeningly cute video of a cat hugging a kitten who was having a nightmare. Hope that makes up for it. I'm going back to bed.

Monday, October 3, 2011

Motionless Mondays

On Mondays I recuperate.  When the neurotypical world greet each other merrily with sentiments of,  "TGIF".  I do not. If one of the straights, as I lovingly call them, expresses this 'Yay-it's-Friday' partiality toward me, I smile weakly and ascertain if it is worth it to try to explain.  Usually it isn't. Why break their good mood? 

Meanwhile, I gear up mentally and physically for a Weekend of Wubie.  With some exceptions it is a 66 hour mommy and son extravaganza. Jam packed with ankle deep toy and craft messes; food preparation and eating messes; multiple shower and toileting bathroom flood messes; multiple rides in the car (and messes); trips to parks, stores, and other locations to keep him engaged; playing; reading; teaching; crafting; wrestling; laundry; laundry; laundry; spam; laundry; dishes; dishes; laundry; bed-changing; medication balancing; and sanity stressing fun, and laundry.

Not a complaint. It's just as I put it more succinctly (yes, I can do that): Friday is when the real work starts. So, we are on a different schedule than most of the world.  The Wubie is happy. The momma deals. We're good.

So here's what happens when The Wubie gets tired of just hanging in the house with just the momma and ideas form in his head about, "what would happen if..."


No, it's not a Halloween ghostie. It is The Wubie in a sack of Styrofoam pellets.  I was in the bathroom and The Wubie wasted no time on the opportunity. This used to be his denim beanbag chair.  I had the outer cover stripped for...more laundry. He discovered the zipper on the inner liner and...well, a cunning plan ensued.

My weekend stress levels were already quite maxed out.  I had the brief initial thought to be very VERY upset. But, a funny thing happened on the way to a momma meltdown. I laughed. No, I guffawed. No, I howled. I have never heard such a belly laugh exiting my, er, belly. This was the sound of pent up stress and unmitigated humor all escaping in a roaring, rolling fit of mirth. Cathartic.


He's my greatest source of stress (no fault of his) and my greatest love.  It's an amazing dichotomy. I am immensely grateful.

Today it's Monday. I'm recuperating. 
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