Sunday, July 1, 2012

F is for Facial Expressions

This time two weeks ago, you could find us lounging on the balcony of our rented condominium at the beach.
--->This is the facial expression we were likely wearing. --->
 I toyed with the post title of 'F is for Fun', or 'F is for Family' to represent the week we spent there. It was a good time! Bally got a few days with Grandpa, and a few days with Uncle Bob who he seldom spends much time with.

Fast forward a week. We return to our normal lives. I contemplate 'F is for Fahrenheit' to reflect the 100 degree temperatures. Work. Doctor appointments.
<---  We now look a little like this. <---
It was really hard for Bally to adjust to being back in his old room, but he liked having his regular cartoons back, Grandpa's music videos, and he liked being able to re-demolish his bedroom by smashing all of his toys with a plastic hammer. His sister doesn't care, she just wants to make sure everyone knows that she really wants a swing set, and a new big-girl bike. And a pool. And a new house. And in our new house we'll have a puppy. We're bored.

And then? It happened. The 2012 end of the world that we keep hearing about.
"OH NO! It's HOT!"
No tv. No a/c. No water. No cold drinks. Bally's world was over. 
This happened Friday night at about 11pm, and the electricity just returned a little less than 2 hours ago.
---> This was our face for the past 2 days. --->
We lost everything in our fridge and freezer, and have spent 2 days wandering around outside looking for shade.

Stop. Rewind.

I feel like Bally made a lot of progress while we were on vacation. He spent a lot less time watching tv, and a lot more time being forced to follow rules. Two of the main rules were "Get OUT of the kitchen!" and "Get OUT of the bathroom!" The entire city is largely family unfriendly, and using the stroller was often not an option. Luckily, we foresaw the need for one of these bad boys:
We tried something similar 2 years ago, and every time got the same reaction. Stop, drop, and scream. But he did much better this year! Yes, I looked like a crazy person walking a small child down the boardwalk on a leash, but that's okay. I'm sure you've all heard about the Miami face-eating incident. Unless you want a repeat attack, allow me to leash and muzzle my toddler. In all seriousness, this thing is awesome, and Bally was pretty well leash-trained by the second day. There were random bouts of cooperation in which I didn't need to hold his hand to keep him walking , and SOMETIMES he even walked in the same direction as me!

Bally also started using a lot more words, and developed a lot more attitude. He decided that he's now afraid of moving water, moving rides, moving elevators, and generally all things that move without his consent. He decided that his drink must always be put on a table or windowsill when he's done with it, and that Caillou is a show that the entire family must sit down and watch together. He learned how to build sandcastles, and he attempted murder on a man's foot in the elevator.         "...a MAAN!!" *stomps man's foot*

Fast forward. 

After we were home and settled for a few days, Bally had an appointment with his regular pediatrician for a few more vaccines and a little catch-up on how his other consults have gone. This was really nothing new. We were given a referral to see an ophthalmologist at Children's, for a "just because" eye exam, and discussed where we go from here. His doctor asked if I'm "okay" with the diagnosis of autism. The question weirded me out a little, and I felt unable to respond any other way than "..yea. I'm good." I mean, Bally's been our BFF since he was born; this isn't something that snuck up on us. We know babies aren't supposed to sound like roosters, and that generally that say Mama before they say APPLE BABY CAT DOG ELEPHANT. I can't imagine being upset by anything a doctor tells me at this point. I mean, I'll get upset when his messy diaper is smeared all over the walls again, or when he's standing in the corner giving death stares and threatening the life of his Gramma again. 

And speaking of Gramma's safety, I think it would have been compromised if the power had not returned tonight. Bally doesn't quite grasp the idea of unavoidable circumstances, and has spent the last two days wondering why we won't turn the heat down, and why we won't turn his TV on, and why we spent from 7am to 10pm standing around in the front yard. Whatever the reason, he was pretty sure it all boiled down to Gramma, and he was reaching his breaking point with her.

Now we're (almost) cool, we have our nightlight back, we've taken our melatonin, read our bedtime stories, and it's time to crash. 

Goodnight cruel, 100 degree world! 
Tomorrow will be a better day!

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