When we bought our house two years ago(tomorrow!) one of the things we liked best about it was the color of the walls. Every room was a lovely peanut buttery shade. Not too dark. Not too light. Just a pretty, neutral color. I was so excited. Our furniture looked gorgeous. I just knew it was absolutely perfect.
And then came the day I went to wipe off every day boy grime from the walls. And that lovely, perfect peanut buttery shade? Came right off. With NO scrubbing. Yep, you heard me. I literally wiped the freakin’ wall. To say I was rather unhappy would be putting it mildly. Turns out the inside of our entire house was painted with the wrong paint. You can’t even look at it cross-eyed without paint coming off the damn wall. Seriously.
So for the fast few months(fine, six months.) I’ve been taping various paint samples to the dining room walls. And pulling them down. And putting them back up again. I have decided on the colors I want to use eleventy bajillion times. At least. I know I want a dark brown for the kitchen. And green for the boy’s room. After that? Well, that’s where I run into the trouble. The hubs is no help because he has given me, wait for it, yep…carte blanche. I have begged, pleaded, cried and tried using my feminine wiles to no avail. He will not be swayed in his determination to have nothing to do with the choice of paint colors. The man is making me crazy. Obviously I cannot be trusted to make these kind of decisions myself. What’s a girl gotta do to get a little help around here? Sheesh…
But y’all, it has rapidly reached a point where we need to start painting. I feel like it looks trashy. And I can’t take it anymore. Next week this Mama is taking her crazy self down to Lowe’s and throwing herself on the mercy of the Paint Department.
And I’m bringing my wiles with me…
Thank you, Temple Grandin. Truer words were never spoken.
I wish other children could see what I see when I look at Nub. It breaks my heart that no one wants to play with him. Or eat lunch with him. They think he’s weird. He is ridiculously bright and I guess that intimidates them. I understand that. To a point. What I don’t understand? Their mean, nasty behaviour towards someone who is different from them. I know that children will be cruel. I get that. But it truly baffles me. Why would you let your child behave that way to another child? Or anyone for that matter?
We have always taught our children that bullying another child, or being cruel, is unacceptable behaviour. Period. They know that they are not allowed to put their hands on anyone. Or to start fights. Now, if someone starts a fight with them then they have our permission to wipe the floor with their ass. Not politically correct, but I don’t care. I’m finding it rather difficult to comprehend why other children think that it’s okay to hit my children. Seriously. What the fuck are these parents doing? ‘Cause it damn sure isn’t being a good parent. Gah.
I have some friends who have children on the Spectrum and I’m hoping to be able to get together with them during Thanksgiving Break. I have one in particular who doesn’t live far, and I think her son and Nub would really hit it off. I hope they hit it off. I’m kind of at my wit’s end when it comes to finding him a pal.
Keep your fingers crossed this works.
Yesterday was a terrible day for Nub. And the rest of us. I was feeling pretty low and decided to pour my heart out on my blog. It took me an hour. AN HOUR. I cried. I erased some of it. Then put it back. And erased it yet again. Just when it was all perfectly dramatical I hit publish.
And it disappeared. At which point I cried some more. I don’t think I can recreate it. The moment has passed. And I’m not feeling it today, so I don’t think it would be the same. Sigh…
It did make me feel better though. I also realized just how much I miss writing on my blog. Yes, I know. I’ve said that eleventy bajillion times before. At least. Doesn’t make it any less true. Trying to find time to write hasn’t really been a priority. I’ve been busy with the boys and dealing with Nub’s Asperger’s the best way I can. I’m in Mama Mode hardcore. Which is all well and good. But I need to be in Me Mode too. Finding a way to carve out a little slice of time for myself needs to be something I do every day. Even if it’s only a few minutes.
I think it would make everyone happier in the long run.