And then we tried to play golf.

I went in yesterday to talk about Autism with the children in Alex's class.  This is not that post.  That will be on Monday.  I had problems linking Power Point to Blogger so it will have to wait till Monday.

Over the past weekend we took the older two out to the driving range to chuck some balls.  Alex has been practicing golf in the back yard for a while now and while I don't worry about balls flying and smashing windows, I am getting a little concerned with the gaping maws he's putting in the yard.  You have to understand that for every ball he hits, he wiffs about five.  That means I have five brand new chunks of grass/dirt/mud to replace for every one he hits.  Lets just say I have a shitload of holes in my yard right now.

Anyway, we decided to up the ante and go to the driving range.  Now, I'll be the first to tell you we live in a stuck-up, snotty, fake boob, my ring's bigger than your ring kind of neighborhood.  I think its funnier than hell and oftentimes I wind up staring at their fake boobies, trying to figure out why the nipples don't line up and how on earth can she walk with yoga pants stuffed that far up her crack?

That's the kind of girl I am.

Anyway, we went to the driving range.  It was outside, so we were using our outside voice.  Our really loud, Oh My God I'm so excited to lob a few balls in someone else's yard and OH MY GOD, there is a machine that gives you balls?!?  HOLY COW, Dad you gotta come and see this voice.  That was the kind of voice we were using.

Oh My God, a ball machine.
Yes, you were supposed to read into that.  

And then I looked over to the driving range to see everyone staring at us.  Every Single Person.  Clearly we'd not gotten the memo to shut the frick up while at the driving range.  And do you know what I did?

I smiled back at them, at every single one of them.  I didn't explain a thing, I just let it be.  I'm to the point that if I say anything, or try to explain away his behaviors, I'm lessening him, I'm devaluing him as a person and I won't do that.

I just smiled at the people and quietly explained to Alex that we have rules at the driving range and one of them was to use an inside voice outside.....I'll save you the dialogue that everyone heard but suffice it so say it made no sense to him.

Honestly, I say can't blame him.  

He was so excited, he was having such a good time.  He couldn't believe there was such a thing as a golf ball dispensing machine and he was trying to figure out if the mechanisms were similar to a pop machine.

They were.

There was one husband and wife duo who were looking at us like we were devil spawn incarnate.  The thing is?  She got it right away.  She understood the extra time we were spending with him, telling him how to hold the club, how to bend and how to use a inside voice, outside.  She got it.  He...well, he didn't.  He kept staring at us.  Giving us nasty looks.  Sighing and Humphing like he was beyond put out.  He was The Angry Man, as that's what we called him for the rest of the night.  His wife was embarrassed and at one point hissed at him, "Would you knock it off?  I'll explain later but just please stop."  He didn't get it and he didn't stop.  She just smiled apologetically.

I smiled back.

A putting green?!?  Awesome!

We lobbed balls and we missed more that we hit.  I may have ducked several times from flying clubs and I may have said, "OUCH, GAWD...Please don't use the club again to get my attention.  Clubbing shins is not OK."  I may have said that out loud while hobbling around limply.

There is something about giving your child, who has limited gross motor skills, basically a three foot metal arm extension called a golf club.  His range of motion/destruction is increased to about a five foot circumference around his entire body.  I think the only one who had more adrenaline coursing through their body than me, well, that was The Angry Man.  

I may have also said, "DUCCCCK" as a club or ball when flying several times....

And then we came home.  The Angry Man was forgotten.  And for once, I let someone else put the plugs of dirt/grass/mud back where they belonged.  I really would have liked to put them back but in my defense, some of them were lobbed so far out, they went further out than the balls.  I was not going to risk getting hit by a ball from The Angry Man.  He was just that pissed.

And as we left, Angry Man's wife gave me one last smile and a small wave.  In that split second our eyes connected there was understanding, kindness and compassion.  I smiled quickly back and went back to the kids.

Revenge is sweet though, I suspect when he got home, his wife was gave him a club or two of her own.  By the time we were through, she was even more pissed than her husband.  He was so mad at us he didn't see what was right under his nose.

His wife.        


Note: I have to tell you a little bit about how things went at school.  I was nervous as hell but it was AWESOME!  I'll post on Monday (with the PPT that I made into a booklet, so its available) but the big takeaway was the kids finally had a reason for his weirdness, if that makes any sense.  It was such a relief to see some of their faces---they understood why he chews his shirts, uses headsets, takes breaks or just flat out walks away.  They understood.    

Oh My God I'm on fire! Ouch. Ouch! Somebody put me out!!! Anybody? Anybody?!?

Karen over at Ow, my angst kindly awarded me with a very special award and like a good friend it took me a few weeks to get my act together and claim it.  I'm on FI-YAH.  Or something cool like that.  

Anyway, having the mental acuity of a three year old right now I don't remember how I found karensomtingorother but I'm glad I did.  Among other things, you'd swear we were separated at birth, have the exact same kid and live the exact same experiences.  It's like she's me in another dimension, except she's funnier.  Now I"m stuck on this other dimension thing.  Hey, it could happen.  I could have a portal stone in my back yard.  You just never know....

Anyway, you know the drill.  I tell you seven things you don't already know about me (but now that you've read them you can't get them out of your mind and you'll never look at me in the same light again) and I pass the award on to a few lucky victims.  I'll wait as you scroll down to see if I nailed you.

Now that you're back, here ya go.  A few thing you wished you never knew about me...

1. I like tampons better than pads.  See I told you, you'd never get this out of your head.  Ever.  Your welcome.  
2. I told off Emma's mom from the other day.  I really tried keeping my mouth shut but when she made some lame-ass excuse about cancelling the play-date I Went Off and told her, among other things, she could, "Put it in her daughter's community service log."  Yes, I really told her that.  I'm not proud but Good Lord in Heaven, God Almighty did that feel good.  
3. I'm a summer girl and am not looking forward to winter.  I'm always amazed I made it out of North Dakota alive.  Notice I didn't say sane, just alive?  
4. I don't wake up pretty.  I need a cup of coffee plus a good ten minutes till I am even approachable.  Even then, its best to err on the side of caution.   
5. I'm a total type A with the house.  I like to have everything neat and clean which falls in exact opposition to having three small kids.  
6. I secertly like to bash the neighbor about having a sucktastick yard.  They've had a dead tree in the front yard for over a year.  The real irony?  Even with all the storms we've had (we don't have small storms in Kansas) not a single one has knocked that damn tree out of the ground.  I know it's staying put to spite me.
7. And the last bit of information and a real kicker:  My mom has found my blog.  "Hi mom!!  I'm on to you.  You can quit lurking in the background and stalk me out in the open."  I don't care.  I will not shut this site down and move over to Wordpress like I said I would.  I just started figuring out Blogger and I don't have the mental fortitude to try and learn something new.   

I know there are several of you laughing your ASSES off right now.  Go on, yuck it up.  YUCK IT UP.  I know you're rolling on the ground right now, next to your chair trying hard not to piss yourselves.  Don't you wish you were wearing a Poise right now?

And now I shall exact revenge and name you below.  

Flannery over at Living on the Spectrum: The Connor Chronicles.  You know every meme I get you're going to be next.  I don't know how or why but I always name you.  Now it's more like tradition and I have to name you.  It's gotten to the point where if I don't name you, I'm afraid I may offend you by NOT listing you.  

Grace over at That'sRightISaidIt.Dot.Mom.  What can I say, I love ya lady.  Consider this an easy way to make stuff up, you know, how you love public service perosnelle or something.  I don't know, say what you will, I'll still read it.  I love your blog.     

Allie over at Little Baby Fields.  She is just a sweeite who never cusses, has a beautiful family and I still love her for it.  I often wonder how she can stomach all my F-bombs.  Allie, I am working on it.  

And DeeAnn over at Snippets 'N Stuff.  I love hearing about Cody and her general take on life.  It's refreshing and reminds me how insane I really am.  

There ya go, that should do it.  

Now go on and give me a hard time in the comment section.  

A baseball game only we never watched baseball.

We went to a Royal's game the other night.  We took the kids out and off we went. Really it took over forty minutes to get everyone stuffed in the minivan and even then we had to turn back around and get sunglasses.  And even after getting said sunglasses we forgot them in the car once we were at the game.

Good thing we went back and got those sunglasses.

Anyway, I had visions of all of us sitting down and watching the game eating cotton candy and hot dogs from the vendors walking up and down the stairs shouting at us.

We were a family and by God we were going to have a  fun, family kind of night, watching the game.

Fountain view from our seats.  No wonder we were
in them for only 20 seconds.

No can do.

Not a snowball's chance in hell.

We were in our seats for exactly one half of the first inning before we were assaulted with, "I'm bored.  There's nothing to do.  I want to go home."

Alex started kicking the seat in front of him.  Lizzy joined in.

We were on our way to Meltdown City.

We got up and left our seats.

We wondered around and found the kid's zone.  Nirvana.

The water powered rotating baseball.
And my kid fondling it.  All night.  

Once we found it we never left.  We let the kids run and play and we watched the game on the TV's they had suspended on the walls for the adults.

We spent the rest of the night at the kid's zone and ogling the fountains.

Ground fountains.  Need I say more?

Alex died and went to heaven.

We did get hot dogs and cotton candy.

Just in the kid's zone.

We spent our first night at a national league baseball game in the outfield, nowhere near the game.  Playing in water, getting sopping wet.  

The kids having the time of their lives.  

As for us, we never went back to our seats.  We didn't even watch the game on the TV's.  We watched our kids.

Laughing and Happy.





PS--  I had to skip posting on Monday as I was banned from the office.  The audio guys were running around here like ants trying to fix things.  Apparently calling the Bossman on Sunday morning got the message through loud and clear that I was really not happy with our system.  And the really funny part???  We went downstairs to work on balance games on the Wii and IT DIDN'T WORK.  I simply handed the phone to my husband.