Ranger-holic

It's a fact that the boy loves to go on rides.
After driving for three days straight to Canada, he's ALWAYS willing to go for another ride the next day.
It slays me.

However, he has a new addiction.
Not being driven.
Driving.

My mother's husband somewhat recently purchased a Ranger for random hauling of ... stuff around their place.

If I thought he couldn't get enough of being driven around, the need to drive is nearly an obsession.Don't let him near the gas pedal though, he's a maniac!

Then He Slept

A couple of months ago I took the plunge and started giving Brogan Melatonin. Seriously the best decision I've ever made. Ever. Well, okay. Maybe not the best best. But it's WAY up there.
In any case, I alternate how much I give him, how often I give it to him and on what days I give it to him so his body doesn't build up an immunity or dependency. I would have thought this was a good idea. Till the other day as he flung himself restlessly around on his bed on one of the nights I didn't give it to him and finally sat up and called out, "Vitamins please mama!" It's funny that even though I have never said to him, "These little vitamins help you sleep better, buddy, don't you LOVE them?" He has KNOWN. He has known the source of his restfulness and now yearns to find it every night.
I can understand why. Imagine being Brogan. He has never slept a full night through. Ever. And this time when I say ever, I mean ever. Can you imagine how that messes you up, how you feel inside, what your brain must be thinking? Then your mother starts giving you little magic vitamins an hour before bed and Wa-Bam! You are experiencing a restful nights sleep. For the first time in almost 6 years. Your entire life. Poor little man.
I now give him Melatonin every week night, the "break" is the weekend. I'm not sure how we'll handle summer vacation. We'll see how it goes.

Ain't He Sweet

And a little "survey" B-man filled out for Mother's day:

My Mother likes to Draw (no, not really. That's all you, baby.)

My Mother is 29 years old. (So so close. 30)

My Mother's favorite food is Fried Chicken Milk (..... what is THAT?)

My Mother's favorite sport is Blow Bubbles (hahhaha, oh, okay)

My Mother's favorite color is Gray (I have no idea where he got that)

My Mother's name is Krista

I love it when my Mother drives (you don't say?)

My Mother is Mom (nicely put, son)

My Mother is good at Reading

My Mother and I like to drive (do I sense a trend?)

My Mother like it when I eat apple pie (he's clearly delusional)

My Mother is great because I'm Happy (can't argue with that logic)

My Mom and I play at home

My Mom and I play link and logs (Lincoln Logs)

My Mom and I eat donuts (he's so subtle)

My mom and I go to Sea World (ummm ... once, last year)

My mom and I read books

My mom and I watch moveys (movies)

My mom and I like to drive in the truck (okay, okay! I get it!)

Leaps and Bounds

The boy is growing so fast.
He's learning so much.
He's getting so smart.
It's hard to keep up.

He's reading, or at least attempting to read everything he can get his hands on.
Which is some situations isn't so helpful.

The Chuck E. Cheese up the road has been under renovation for a few months now as they expand. They've remained open, just had patrons using a different entrance. However, since the front of the building and the parking lot is all torn up ... I've told a slight lie as we've driven past and he's shouted with glee,

"Go to Chuck E. Cheese!"
My reply has been,

"Sorry bud, look, it's closed."
Being a child of kind of sound reasoning, he's believed me.
His mother.
The fudger.

However, (darn you, CEC!) they recently hung up a banner across the front declaring,

"OPEN! Door on Side!"
He can read any and all four letter words.
Frick.

He's also become more aware of others.
If he sees me laying in bed without covers on (in my case, it's usually on purpose ... but I'm not going to point that out to the boy) he'll rush in, pull covers up all around me. Pat them down and exclaim,

"There you go!"

"Thanks buddy."
"You're welcome."

He loves telling people "You're welcome." I think he feels it's a public service because he certain gets a lot of joy out of it.

When he gets himself a drink, he will more than likely pour his sister a drink also. Some days I'm not too sure this isn't out of

self
preservation

so he doesn't have to share. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt though.

He's less terrified of birds ...

at a distance.

We went to the Fort Worth Zoo the other day and he sat for a good 20 minutes just watching the swans. They've built up a nest and laid an egg or two and he finds himself enthralled with their nest protecting, waddling and squawking at each other.
He loves being out. Going places. Doing things. Which is a joy to me, since neither his sister or father

ever

want to go

anywhere.

Oh Sure

I may be the one to drive him there, but I am surely not the one he wants to spend his summer with ... (he drew the picture, I wrote in the names as he told me who they were)(click on it to enlarge it)

He does not lack imagination, that's for sure!

Independence

I have never really been one of those mother's that mourn the passing of my kids baby years. The older they get, the more I like them. The older they get, the more fun it is to be with them.
As they get older, they also get more independent, which in my books is fabulous.
This week, the boy took his independence to another level. When he's hungry for a snack, he usually hits the pantry or fridge, hunts around and finds crackers, popcorn, fruit snacks, pickles, apples ... whatever it is he's got a hankering for. The other day, I guess those options just weren't going to cover what he was craving. So as I watched he grabbed the bread, peanut butter and a butter knife and placed it all on the island. Then he found his step stool and pulled it up to the counter. He then proceeded to make himself a very thick peanut butter sandwich, all of which he ate.
Next step?
Microwave!
*If you'll click on the picture, you can see the picture he drew on the white board ... "Brogan made a sandwich!"*

Let Me Make Myself Clear

I have NEVER claimed Brogan was subtle. Not even once did I even hint at it.

He's been telling me lately that he wants to go to the zoo.
Most days are just not a good day simply because he has school.
However, that does not deter him from asking time and time and time and ... again.
I think he believes I have a communication problem because when ever he asks for something more than once and I've said "no" or "not right now, buddy"
he will go
and
draw
a
picture.
Like, "Obviously you just don't understand me
or else I'd be getting what I want right now.
Let me draw you a picture to make my demands
a little clearer."

This is his response to not going to the zoo in the last month.And here's what he gave Jerry while I was gone.
You'll notice no pictures accompany this one.
Just his demands.
Straight out.

Laundry

My sister in law Jenie has a very specific way of doing laundry that her mother taught her. This summer while I was at her house for six weeks I tried to keep up with her way of doing it, as I was at her house and wanted to respect her housekeeping methods. I began to really enjoy it, I liked the order of it, knowing what colors to wash with which colors, ect. When I got home from Canada I decided to implement her method in my own laundry room - with a twist. I want my kids to feel as responsible for their own stuff as possible, so I decided to have them start sorting out their own laundry into the right bins and then put away their own stuff. To help them remember which colors went in which bins I cut out strips of construction paper, laminated them, then taped them behind the respective bins. Some of this desire comes from my own dislike for house work, laundry especially - but any way you cut it, I got the kids involved.
The kids, especially Brogan, really enjoy sorting laundry. He loves deciding what color is the predominant color in the clothes, tossing them in and seeing the basket fill as he does his "job".
It may be too early to be worrying about the life skills they'll need when they move out, but I figure you can never be too prepared.

Compliments

Some days the boy is WAY too sweet.
It almost brings me to tears.
Alright it DOES bring me to tears.
What's it to ya?
The other day as I was talking on my cell phone I had to plug it in while in mid-discussion and the best place was beside my bed. So I grabbed a pillow and made myself comfortable on the floor as I continued talking to my mom. Brogan, being my constant shadow, sees me laying on the floor. Looks me up and down and quickly runs into the living room and brings back a blanket to cover me up with.
I smile at him and say, "You're a sweet boy, Brogan."
He smiles back and proclaims, "YOU'RE a sweet girl, mom."
Awwww.

This morning as we was sitting at the table working on his letters (keeping them ON the line) he looked over at me with his dark eyes just a twinkling and softly said, "I love you SO much."

Gosh darn, that kid.

Revelation

In general, I don't think about how smart the boy is.
But there are moments that give me flashes of insight that leave me a bit stunned ... then murmuring to him as I stroke his soft blond hair, "You're such a smart boy, Brogan?"
To which he laughs and shouts, "Yep!"
Yesterday Brogan was doing whatever it is that Brogan does when he's entertaining himself when his head popped up and he asked,
"Auntie Jenie Hamon, mom?"
"No, Brogan. Her name is Auntie Jenie Jones."
Silence.
Then, "Auntie Jenie Jones, Lincoln Jones, Hanna Jones, Emma Jones, Li-ly Jones, Oh-livia Jones ... Uncle Michael .... JONES!"
Pauses, tongue between teeth as he draws another master piece.
"Auntie Dawn Hamon, Uncle Gary Hamon, Al-ain-a Hamon, Rhys Hamon, Terina Hamon, Ter-e-vor Hamon."
I love how he figured out who belonged to who, how all the kids that belonged to that parent had that name. Not OUR name, but the parents name.
I know, I'm biased.
But seriously.
Totally impressive.

P for Penis

Wow! What's with the title, Krista? Seriously, tone it down!

One of Brogan's favorite time wasters is going through the alphabet with us alternating letters and what starts with it,
A is for Albatross
B is for Baritone
C is for Cougar
...
You get the idea.
He's a smart kid. If you give him a word, he can almost always tell you what it starts with if not how to spell the whole word if it spells the way it sounds.
Lately I have taken to flat out telling him to
"Stop playing with your penis, Brogan."
It makes Jerry cringe, but seriously - what am I SUPPOSED to call it? A wee wee? A pee pee? It just seems rather ridiculous to soften it for him when I give it to Rhiannon factually.
Soooo ...
Today we're doing the ABC's
...
O is for Orangutan
P is for Penis
A small smile pulls at his lips and I see him darting looks at me out of the corner of his eye.
Bugger.
Q is for queen
Top that PUNK.

Riding Lessons

This week I started the kids on riding lessons after hearing time and time again at the Autism conference that hippo and aqua therapies are the most effective.
To be cliche, Rhiannon is in 7th heaven. She's actually quite natural with the horses and tacking and what not.
Brogan. Well ... hmmmm. What to say about him. He likes the idea of horses but he certainly doesn't want to be within a 10 foot range of them.Christian (riding instructor), "Brogan, do you want to help me put the hackamore on Star?"
Brogan, "Nooooo" shuffling even further back into the tack room
Christian, "Brogan, can you help me carry this saddle to Star?"
Brogan, all but under all of the saddles, "Noooooo"
Then ...
Christian takes the lead on Rhiannon's horse, I take the lead on Brogans horse.
We start walking around the arena with Christian giving Rhiannon soft instructions, encouragement and praise from time to time.
We stop for a minute to give Rhiannon the feeling of accomplishment when she's able to get her ride to stop on command ... and Brogan's leg is swung over the horse and half way to the ground.
"Done mom. Stop now."
*sigh* Settles the boy back on top of the horse, "No, Brogan. We are NOT done. Keep your bum seated in your saddle.
Few minutes of silence, "juh-go-potty, mom?"
Wiley little devil.
Soooo ... is it okay for me to just let him drop trou at a public arena? Probably a bad habit to encourage with this particular kid.
He is absolutely stiff, uncomfortable and is not having a good time doing this. He'd love it a whole lot more if I just let him shuffle around in the dirt parking lot or arena ... After two lessons I am already wondering if it's worth it. I had hoped once I got him on the horse he'd enjoy himself. Last summer he rode around with me for hours. But maybe that was just because I was on there with him.
The lessons are somewhat costly and I don't want to spend the money on him if he's hating it every minute.
I am considering looking into swimming lessons.
They'd be less expensive and I KNOW he loves water. Infact, last summer there was tears every day when he didn't get to go to swim lessons with Rhiannon.
I just hate letting him skip out of something. Makes me worry that he'll start thinking if he puts up enough of a fuss I won't make him do anything.
NEVER a good position to put yourself into with a smart kid.

We were sure we were being geniuses. Or at least Jerry thought he was a genius. I think he just wanted to bowl from home ... I bet you want to hear something that leads me to stating these things.
So here's the thing.
I ran all over the metroplex for way too long looking for a Wii because that is what Jerry had decided the kids would really like from "Santa". Forget the fact that they had no idea what it was and hadn't mentioned it once. After a lot of frantic searching and finally buying it out of the back seat of a shady characters car (alright, alright, he couldn't have been THAT shady, he owned a 'Vette) at 10:30pm on Christmas eve, the kids had a Wii for Christmas.
Rhiannon has got hours of enjoyment, frustration, elation, "nah nah nah nah" moments, crushing defeats ... Brogan on the other hand ... plays about 4 minutes of whatever game Rhiannon is playing and is done. Except boxing. The kid is a MEAN boxer. Got some sorta nutty right hook.
He however, love love loves this game A $5 game I got as a stocking stuffer ... for Rhiannon (oh, I mean Santa gave her. Whatever.) He asks me time after time after time "Play Don't Break the Ice mom, pleeeeeease?" So I patiently build it all back together again, he carefully places the skater in her "precarious" position and we start tap tap tapping away.
Moral of my story? Expensive electronic games don't phase my son. Infact, I am pretty sure he is as disinterested as you could get in it. Hands on, action games that he gets a reaction from - can't get enough of the silly stuff.

Another Opprotunity to Teach

Yesterday before we went to the library Brogan drew a picture of the library, then a picture of a little girl frowning. I asked him what each picture was and he explained,
"It's the library and a sad little girl."
"Why is the little girl sad?" I asked.
"Because I kicked her."
My nervous response "Do you like the little girl to be sad?"
"No."
Relieved, I then discussed with him how hitting/pushing/kicking/biting would make a little girl or boy he wanted to play with very sad and NOT want to play with him.
To further the point I went on to physically show him how little girls/boys like to be touched and what he could say to someone he wanted to play with instead of the abuse.
He then took his picture of the little girl, erased the frown and drew in a smile.
I asked him why she was smiling and he replied, "I'm a nice boy."
Wanting to implement the words of advice as soon as possible, we headed over to the library and into the kids area. Brogan immediately picks out the smallest child there, crouches down, strokes her arm gently and asks,
"Do you want to play, little girl?"

*heart swells, a little bit of foggy-eye*

I can't say the lesson will stick. Or if we'll have to talk about this a dozen more times before he really gets it. But for that one moment in time, it was absolutely precious.

Dry Erase Boards

What do you MEAN I shouldn't draw on my face?!?!

Don't be mistaken, I'm a genius (even as I spell that word wrong) - but sometimes it takes me a little bit of time and a little bit of money to catch on.
As displayed, Brogan loves to draw and write. It's possibly his favorite thing to do other than go on long car rides. To indulge this love of his we were going through around a ream of paper every other week to keep up with his demand. He wasn't being wasteful either - he'd use up the whole paper, both sides - then put the papers he didn't want me to display in the recycling bin.
When Kimberly was over for one of her In Home Training sessions a couple weeks ago she brought out one of her "personal size" dry erase boards and had him do some of his lesson on that.
*Bing!*
Lights went on in my head - of course! What a cost effective way to allow Brogan the freedom to draw to his hearts content, but save us some money, some mess and at least half a forest of trees.
Don't get me wrong, if Brogan is ever in the proximity of paper he's scrambling to find a pen/pencil and going at it like mad. But he's also very content with the dry erase boards.

Once again, without knowing it, Kimberly saves the day.

They're Missing

Brogan brought these pictures to show me this morning, thought I'd share the laugh:

SantaMissing SantaMissing Ms. Kimberly

Making Decisions

I think making decisions is a pretty important life skill, so I almost always give Brogan at least two options to choose from in as many situations as possible. The other day he decided to use that method (to a great extent) with me to get what he wanted.
"Mommy - go to the library or play Lincoln Logs?"(pointing to each picture as he asks) I really didn't want to do either, I wanted to finish the laundry... but knowing this was him employing a method I have been using with him I couldn't turn him down.
Lincoln Logs have been a great teaching tool with him. After helping me build which ever structure he has decided on, he will grab which ever animals and people he wants us to act out in that moment and then we play out scenarios, ie: The alligator wants to play with the dog and mom but he keeps biting them, so the mommy will say,
"Do you want to play with us, Flossy (he came up with the name, I have no idea where it came from)?" Asks the mom.
"Yes, I want to play!" replies the alligator.
"We want to play with you too, but we don't like it when you hurt us. That makes us sad. You can play with us if you don't hit, bite or push us, okay?"
Alligator pauses for longer than I had anticipated, then, "Okay."
Then play continues - with the alligator not attempting to eat the other characters again.

I'm a little crazy about this kid

You LOST Her?!?!

Whether he looking for a toy, his shoes, his favorite pillow, his "pink princess gloves" or a person if Brogan cannot almost immediately find it he comes to me, asks me where it is and if I reply "I don't know."
He'll respond, "You lost it?"
Which, irrationally, makes me rather annoyed. I know he's not actually accusing me of losing it, it's just how he phrases sentences and questions. "You" replaces I, we, me, us, she, he. So in reality he's more than likely telling me he can't find whatever it is because he lost it. But, because I am a hormonal mother I take it personally and throw back "I didn't lose anything but maybe you did." Then go help him find whatever it is he feels is lost.
The other evening I was in the laundry room attending to the sea of clothes when I heard this exchange:
Brogan, "Where's mommy?"
Jerry, "I'm not sure."
Brogan (accusingly), "You lost HER?!?!"
Jerry (slightly defensively) "I didn't lose her I just don't know where she is."
It amused me to hear someone else in that situation and to hear they react pretty much the same way I do. Is that wrong?