Thanksgiving

Things I'm thankful for: family, friends, cheap wine, the fart walk (thanks, guys)
Highlights from the holiday:
* STILL not being allowed to sit next to my brother Andy at dinner because we're too immature to behave ourselves. (He's 59 & 1/2 and I'm just a little bit past 46)
* Having a little cuddle in the recliner with my littlest niece (age 28)
* Garnishing the family with whipped cream
(Food + Propellants = FUN!)
* Becca and Andrea's annual Pie-Eating Smackdown
(pie + more pie = coma)
* Mom & Dad's "Best Arguing Ever"
(Dad + Bourbon = FUN!)
* Having the last piece of cocoa cheesecake
Thanks, Deb!
* Lizzie "holding it together" for the whole day!!!
Go Lizzie!

Holiday (c)rap

Lizzie is singing "Police Navidad"... Seriously- WHAT is with her and the cops?!!
I love Holiday music- most of it, anyhow. There are some stupid songs out there (Grandma got run over by a reindeer), annoying songs (Dominic the Donkey), and funny songs (Santa Claus and his Old Lady by Cheech and Chong). But the WORST-EVER SONG- ever- is The Christmas Shoes. That song just blows. It's not just a sad song, it's a song that leaves me feeling bereft of joy. And Homicidal.... I'm going to try and write a worse song for you. Here goes:

It was December twenty-fourth
when Santa knocked on my door
He said " I hate to tell ya, Homey
but yo Mamma's a whore."

Nope- even after only one verse, I can tell that it will be WAY BETTER than The Christmas Shoes.
Plus- that song doesn't make sense. If someone I loved was dying, I would bring Chocolate or wine or some medicinal herbs to help ease the pain. Maybe I would get shoes for ME- new shoes always brighten up my day! Ooh- and a new purse!

Lizzie's Great Idea

It runs in the family, I guess...
Lizzie thought it would be a Great Idea to jump up and sing Bob Marley's "Get Up, Stand Up" during yoga last night.

Gift Rant

You know, just because something FITS into a Christmas stocking doesn't mean it belongs there.
Case in point: Yeast Guard. Swing- and a miss... Needless to say, that relationship was over shortly after the New Year. So here's a handy list for the guys:
Gold Jewelry
Diamond Jewelry
Large Bills
GOOD Chocolate
Gift Cards- but not to stores that look shaky on the S&P index
Tiny accessories from Coach

Here's what to steer clear of:
Preparation H.
Breath Mints
Acne cream- really- let's just say "ointment of any kind", okay?
Crappy chocolate from the dollar store
Condoms- Just be a MAN and get a vasectomy

The Talented Ms. Hartford

Lizzie is an incredible mimic. She does impersonations, foreign accents, animals, power tools, the bread machine, etc. Her Nigerian accent is dead-on; just ask my neighbor! So the other night I heard my voice coming out of the bathroom: "That is too much bubbles!" So of course I went in to find out what "I" was up to. Lizzie had poured an entire bottle of shampoo into her bath. I tried to get mad but I was laughing too hard. Plus- every time I opened my mouth she went under water and held her breath. Damn swim lessons! So I caved- as usual- and let her stay in the tub for "a whole day" (an hour). No sense in wasting perfectly good bubbles.

It's that time of year...

So my mailbox- and my mail carrier- are groaning under the weight of all those holiday catalogs. There's the usual Everything-in-our-store-is-either-made-of-flannel-or-fleece-and-can-be-monogrammed-so-when-you-wake-up-in-an-unfamiliar-alley-reeking-of-gin-you'll-at-least-know-your-initials book. There's the one featuring a wide assortment of foods assembled into towers. (I love reading that one when I have PMS!) An entire forest dies every year for TOYS!TOYS!TOYS! Every kid in America is salivating over that one (except for Lizzie, who is only interested in balloons). Last year, she sat on Santa's lap and told him he should go to the Dollar Store for the balloons. That's my thrifty girl! (One year she asked the mall Santa to bring her broccoli- that was a little awkward...)
Anyhoodles, a new book arrived this year full of new-age-y things like incense and candles- and a stainless steel tongue scraper. I WISH I was making that last one up. Unfortunately for that guy from KISS, it only comes in one size but it also was only a buck so whaddaya expect.... Anyhoohoo, Dear whoever-drew-my-name-for-the-family-gift-exchange: I don't want the tongue scraper for Christmas. In fact, if it has the word "novelty" in the title, save your money: I don't want it. I don't need $90.00 slippers, even if they are "wicked good". I don't want a cable-knit hooded sweater for my pet. FYI- every pet I've ever had has come complete with a nice warm FUR coat.
OMG! Nicki- is THAT why our cats have been puking lately?! Have they become bulemic after seeing the totally-warm-yet-slimming microfiber pet parkas?! Dear Zoey- I know you can read. Quit clawing the back of the couch, asshole. And clean up your own puke.
Back to topic. Please don't beg me to try "just a tiny little slice" of the pecan pie. I won't love it. Pecan pie is like a hubcap full of sugar. I'd rather save all my calories for an extra serving of Mom's stuffing. It's SO good! Just don't tell me what's in it.
At the risk of retitling this post "How to ruin the Holidays", I'd like to mention just one more suggestion. This year, let's not have that same conversation that starts out with "OMG! Remember the time you..." and ends with "... and then you lost the weight/ broke up with that jerk/ got sober/ remembered the rolls in the oven/ etc." Because everything in the middle is bound to make someone feel lousy.

Shout-outs

To Manda, who is going to help me pimp out my page, something-something-something, enabling my blog to generate revenue. And she signed her comment! Unlike Lt. "Big Jeff " Noble, who left a comment and chose to remain anonymous. Oops- my bad.

To Ellen "If-only-I-could-somehow-bedazzle-my-own-shroud M., for basically just putting up with me and also for having a crazier kid than mine. Thanks, sweetie. Tell me again how much you hate our school department.

To Mari's Mom, who told me I was funny, and I'm pretty sure she meant amusingly funny, not Dude- what's wrong with your brother funny, not spoiled food- does this taste funny funny... (said the cannibal eating the clown)

And finally to my Mom, who still calls it my Blob. Mom- it's a BLOG. A BLOB is a gelatinous movie villain. Sheesh....

Another Great Idea

.....Chocolate-covered Antidepressants.

Follow-ups

Today I'll reply to the questions people have been asking me about some of my previous posts.
Why "Robicslady"?
Well, that's what my husband used to call me when we first met. Actually, he used to sing to me: Green-eyed lady, Robicslady, etc. You know that song. It was love at first sight for me: when he found out that I had a child w/ Autism, he did his really awesome impersonation of Rain Man for me. Followed by PeeWee Herman and Forrest Gump. Sometimes he leaves me phone messages in all his different voices- last week I hit the play button and it was him doing the sound of our cat fighting w/ the neighbor's cat. He's really quite talented- it's like being married to a parrot who can open jars. Don't worry- he never reads my blog because-quote- "I live with the blog".
Many of you are wondering what happened to my older daughter- did she in fact have appendicitis? Was she not answering her phone because she was in the emergency room or in surgery or post-op? Nope. She was still at the Y Camp with her special-needs campers, having a great time.
When I finally got a hold of her ("Hi Mummy- what's up"?) she said she was "walking up a really big hill and got a wicked cramp". When I finally regained the ability to speak rationally, I suggested she join a gym.

Shout-out to my Dad

Dear Dad- (favorite expression: "Close the damn door")
I just wanted to mention that the space shuttle launched successfully yesterday with the door ajar...

Spread the madness!

Dear friends, family, fellow bloggers, and innocent bystanders: if you enjoy reading my posts, please feel free to forward the link www.robicslady.blogpot.com to as many people as you wish. I'm attempting to become an Internet Sensation and I just don't have the boobs for porn. Thanks!

If Dogs had Blogs

Another great weekend! Went to the park w/ my "owner" and tossed the frisbee around for a while. I like to make sure he gets enough exercise as he's getting a little paunchy. I chewed up the tv remote last week- just to be helpful. I know- Genius! Anyhow, ran into Scuzzy from the pound (he goes by Barkley now) and he was with his new "owner". Really weird kid: flapping his arms and twirling around and making these Dog-awful dinosaur noises. Scuz says he's a service dog now. Tough gig, man. He seemed to be diggin' the kid though. We gave each other a quick butt-sniff and then he had to get back to work.
Found a really sweet dead squirrel carcass and rolled around in it for a while- pure bliss! "Owner" got mad and made me have a bath when we got home. That's okay 'cuz I whizzed a little in the water so I still smell good.
After a good long nap on the sofa, I clawed furiously under the cushions for no particular reason and found an old steak bone that I hid there last week. Score! Licked that for a while, then gave the old balls a little licky-loo, 'cuz I can.
Next day, went across the street to visit Spunky. Had a great time butt-sniffing and digging holes in the flower bed. Took a walk, whizzed on all 78 favorite rocks, and home for another nap. Woke up to discover that the stupid cat brought in yet another dead mouse; what a chump. I said "Dude- keep it outside and roll in it- you don't know what you're missin', man". I gotta seriously work on that dumb cat.

RE: yesterday's post

My great-nephew Luke pointed out that maybe everyone is trying to get that new VW vehicle by popping out babies. (REALLY stupid and offensive ad campain) He is so clever- he even has his own blog! And not even 5 months old yet. Go Luke!

I'm so F***ing sick of Celebrities

Oh those trend-setting famous people in Hollywood: they raised the bar on us again. Remember when THE celebrity accessory was the Louis Vuitton bag- you know, the one that looked like it was decorated by a toddler with a box of florescent markers? Pretty soon, everyone had to have one and then all the other big bag designers started copying it (remember the D & B with the multicolored zipper that looked like creepy little Chiclets?) and then all the knock-offs started appearing- I think even Kmart had a version- and pretty soon even women on WIC had one.

Then the celebrities turned to the NEW fashion add-on: the teeny tiny dog. Pretty soon the people at LV started furiously churning out really BIG bags to hold all those tiny dogs- I think a gal named Paris had 6 gerbil-sized pups which, BTW, she could tote around in her old shoes, as she apparently wears a size 11. But I digress. The bags got bigger and the dogs got smaller until their own fleas could seriously kick their asses. But THEN-

Someone in Hollywood adopted a little brownish boy and pretty soon every OTHER desperate B-lister had to have one. They all bought Juicy Couture bibs and started frequenting parks instead of nightclubs. Well, except for Britney... But I'm getting ahead of myself here.

THEN- someone got pregnant. I forget who- maybe Jennifer Garner? and pretty soon EVERYONE just HAD to get a "Baby Bump" to coordinate with the multicolored kids and the LV diaper bags. Even Tom and Katie got on board- Literally- I hear they jaunted back to the Mothership so "Tom" could impregnate her with a turkey baster. Even a different (jilted) Jen had to try. **Major digression here: WHY can't this chick find and keep a boyfriend? She's famous and rail-thin and HOT and yet...nada. Even I managed to snag a Great guy and I'm not any of those things; I'm more like infamous, squishy, and best viewed in low lighting. Back to topic:
All the famous celebs go to each other's baby showers and push Lamborghini strollers together and it's all quite beautiful. But someone always has to get competetive- let's get MORE kids in all different colors and then immediately get pregnant AGAIN! Ha! Somehow, magically, everyone on the west coast finds out and delivers twins simultaneously.......
What to do? Get pregnant AGAIN! Ha! We Win!
Seriously, I almost hope her uterus falls out.
People: babies are not Webkins! You can't just collect the most and win- or try to trade out the duplicates! You have to feed these things and watch them and not let them eat cat food or razor blades. You can't stuff them in a really big purse and go clubbing with Lindsay!
You have to continuously like them- even if they have special needs or become teenagers or learn to drive, or text-message you stupid shit like "where is my appendix" and "OMG- where R U- what if I have appendicitis" and then not answer my calls for 4 HOURS. Yup- gotta keep loving them.
Please breed responsibly.

See, This is why we're screwed

Two actual headlines from Yahoo News:

"China closes herbal drug firm linked to deaths"

"Traditional Medicine passes W.H.O. health checks"

We better alert the Department of Oxymorons.... (such a great word)

High-Velocity Smoothie Spatter

I guess I do watch a lot of CSI reruns....Anyhoo, the base of my Magic Bullet seems to have sprung a leak, which is tragic because I love to put all of my favorite breakfast foods* such as coffee, yogurt, fruit, skim milk, and ice together and blend it up and drink on the fly while I run around multi-tasking in the morning: packing my gym bag; reminding Lizzie to brush ALL her teeth, not just the ones that show; swerving to avoid the two boys down the street whose parents allow them to play hockey in the middle of the road before school (I swear one of these mornings I'm going to flatten them AND their perky little Child At Play signs).
Ooh- I just had another Great Idea: booze in sport bottles for on-the-go refreshment. I know- Genius!
But my original point is this: people are always asking me how I manage a busy life and a nutty kid and a clean home and my answer is multitasking! shortcuts! dim lighting!
Here's one of my favorite tips: just spritz a little Windex on the light bulbs and your home will smell like you've been cleaning all day! Then turn the lights off and your house will LOOK clean, too! (also prevents small fires)
I'll try to post a new time-saving tip every week.
Well, Lizzie is with her Dad today so I have lots of time to get some actual cleaning done and maybe even go completely crazy and do a whole crossword puzzle!

*some breakfast foods are best left out of smoothies: biscuits and gravy, home fries, leftover pizza....
Drink Responsibly!

Too weird for bowling

Lizzie and her peers with special needs get together on Monday nights for various recreational skills- this week was bowling. So Lizzie rolls the ball and knocks all the pins down and yells "Hurray- I won! Want to go home?" Followed by Dinosaur noises.
You know your kid is strange when even all the other special kids are looking at her funny... Not to mention the regulars (?) who bowl........
I'm glad we booked the bowling alley that's fah (a half-hour drive for Rhode Islanders) - it's the one with a bar.

Is it hot in here or is it just me (nopause)?

I just had the greatest idea: Allergy meds prepackaged with bladder control pads! Wow, huh? If I think of any other great ideas, I'll let ya'all know!

To all my friends: please don't steal my great ideas as I am currently working on accumulating a vast fortune because Psychotherapy is wicked expensive. Thanks.

Stupid people in the news

Having sued my school system twice, I like to keep my ear to the ground for similar cases. But here's what I found instead:
A woman is suing her daughter's school system because no one there can pronounce the daughter's name correctly. It's Le-a. Yeah- that's how I thought it should be pronounced, too. Nope....







It's "Le-DASH- a", because: "The dash ain't silent".

And I thought I had a difficult life.

So we're in line at the Post Office and the woman in front of me informs me that she has a daughter with Autism, too. And I'm like, Yay- another member of the club! Then I'm thinking- gee, what gave it away? Because I thought we were doing a pretty good job of blending in. Then again, no one else was wearing a Halloween costume. Because it's not Halloween. And hardly anyone else was making dinosaur noises... I guess we do bring it on ourselves.

Completely unrelated- I didn't realize until Downward Dog that my yoga top looks and fits like something I could wear to my next mammogram. John says this is precisely why men go to Yoga.

And that's when the cops showed up.

Hello! Welcome all to my new blog! Or, as my Mom will call it, "Rae's Blob". Anyhow, my blog will be multipurpose: to let me vent in the safety and privacy of my own living room (always a better choice than at the Post Office, armed), to let my friends at Core Fitness know who's teaching what every weekend, and to hopefully dispel a few myths about Autism, such as:
1) Lizzie will someday "outgrow" it
2) Lizzie is actually a genius, just like Rain Man
3) God never gives us more than we can handle (a good point to debate at another time)

Anyhow, several days ago, Lizzie had a major public meltdown involving screaming, hitting herself in the head, and kicking us. We were in a large empty parking lot next door to KFC. The whole crew was hanging out the drive-up window watching us try to calm/restrain/deflect blows from Lizzie. I mentioned that they would probably call the police if we didn't pull it together soon. Sure enough, the cops showed up at our house almost two hours later. (!) Lizzie was chilling out in her room listening to Techno on her Hello Kitty boom box, surrounded by balloons and gift wrap, as it was her birthday. Long story short, no reports were made and everyone agreed that wow- THAT was awkward.......... Just another birthday party to remember..............