Wet Child = Soaked Daddy

It's raining today.

A lot.

Trust me on this - it really is.

Take a look outside your window if you don't believe me (you could check the weather on TV...but they lie! And frequently get yesterday's weather wrong in any case).

Here's what went down in my house this morning. My wife had some early appointment to go to...so I was on my own (she did get his snack bag ready for me though). Being on my own with Nicholas is not a problem for me. I understand him, and he, for the most part - gets me. We're really good that way. My son may not always get the world - but we do get each other.

So of course, I leave things to the last minute. School starts at 8:25...so I decide at 8:18 that perhaps we really should get a move on. School is close - so it's no big deal.

I open the door to discover that, "oh crap!" - the rain that they called for is actually happening!!! Which means I need to find rain boots (that's an easy one), and a raincoat for my son.

Raincoat?

Shoot!

I know he has one - I've seen it. It's red.

And it's missing.

I mention to Nicholas that I can't find his raincoat, and that we really have to get a move on. School is going to start, and we need to be there - like NOW!!!

My son looks up at me...as he's happily munching the last bit of bacon, and says, "Don't worry Daddy! I have an umbrella - I don't need a raincoat. But you better find it before Mommy gets home.".

Yeah - I'll get right on that dude. I'm sure Mommy knows exactly where it is...but this tidbit of information was not passed onto me.

So my son gets his coat on....and bursts out the door like the proverbial Bat Out of Hell!

"Daddy!! It really is raining!! This is great!!"

Uh-oh.

Weather excitement can only mean one thing.

There are helpless puddles who will soon feel the wrath of an excited little boy jumping maniacally in them.

And of course - this is exactly what happens. He's jumping up and down, laughing his butt off (while holding his umbrella) and getting wet in the process.

Daddy on the other hand....you know...the guy who years ago left his umbrella in the back of a taxi, and has yet to buy a new one, is getting soaked in the process.

I manage to get him into the car (leather seats boys and girls!) and drive him to school.

School is a great place. You can learn things, you can meet new friends....and you can jump in even more puddles. And not lame one like we have at home - BIG ones! [think I saw a little Arc in one of them...]

I'm finally able to get Mr. "Puddles Are The Shit!!" into school...and I notice that he is really only a bit wet. Daddy on the other hand had that drowned cat look happening.

I give my son his kiss goodbye, and tell him to be a good boy today.

"Oh - I will Daddy! Don't worry about a thing. You really should go home and dry off though....and maybe you should buy an umbrella or something - because I like puddles and that isn't going to change!".

He's right - I should spring for an umbrella, and I'm sure puddles will never get boring. I jumped in one too on my way back to the car...so he's right on all counts! :)

And yes - my driver's license claims that I'm considerably older than 7. But I don't care - I was 'old' enough to pack him some extra clothes (and shoes)...but he looked so happy to be jumping in the puddles - I thought I'd give 'er a whirl too!

Children can teach us many things in life. Remembering how to have fun being one of them.

How much Van Gogh is too much?

For those of you who have been following my blog, you will know that my little man enjoys fine art. Classical music for sure (I can hear him upstairs right now getting down with Bach on YouTube)...and of course Van Gogh prints.

And if you haven't been following my blog - get on that will ya! Feedback tells me I'm actually quite funny...and can actually write really well.

There is one picture in particular that he just loves. It's the one called, "Sunflowers in the Vase"...or something like that. I could go ask the dude to confirm - but like I said...he's busy right now. Just because he's 7 doesn't mean that he doesn't have the right to be busy - and be left alone (and besides...I just tried that! I went into "his" office to repair a desk that he has somehow managed to break [note to parent's - IKEA desks with keyboard trays should have extra screws installed....like I was about to do]....and was told that I would have to come back later, as he had things to do, and that I was interupting his quality time!

So...where was I going with this rambling tale? Oh yes...Vince, and his sunflower action. :)

Yesterday my wife was out for the day, and I was home fixing things and cleaning things that weren't (yet) broken...and generally being a helpful human being. I also made Big Macs too! Or...McLoons as I call them (there's a reciped on YouTube - check it out).

When my wife got home she happened to mention to me that she saw a HUGE...and I mean really quite large print of the Sunflower image for sale at a garage sale. I asked how big....too which I was told that she would need to take my car to pick it up. My wife drives a Mazda 3....I drive a 6....so I have more room for art transportation. She said she stopped and asked the lady who was cleaning crap out of her house (likely with the the intent to put it in mine) if she could hold it for a bit while she zoomed, zoomed home to get my car. My wife mentioned that it was for our autistic son, and that he was going to be thrilled with this acquisition. A deal was struck, and the lady hung onto it.

Nicholas went along for the ride - and I'm pretty sure he talked the lady down in price. He's a cute kid...and quite charming too (I'm taking credit for those attributes)!

So....an hour later - my wife comes home with a billboard size print of Vince's Sunflowers in the Vase. It's at least 2 1/2" by 4" in size. That is massive kids! Just massive indeed!

And now I'm expected to get this thing up on the wall as soon as possible. And I'm happy to do it....but before I do that - I want to replace the glass with plexiglass (I'm sure that'll cost more than the $20 my wife spent on the thing) just in case it ever falls off the wall. It's quite heavy...and a pane of glass that size falling off the wall could really hurt someone...safety first boys and girls! Autistic kids on occasion will throw something (at least mine does)....and I just don't really want to clean up that much broken glass. It would likely just be easier to sell the house and buy one where there isn't glass all over the place.

Now....where to put this thing? We have a small house...and finding a good spot could be a challenge.

Sigh....always something to do - but when it makes a 7 year old think that I am in fact the coolest Daddy on the planet - I'm happy to do it.

Just wish he would get into The Group of 7. This Van Gogh thing is going to clash with the two prints I have.

Bowling + No Pizza = Meltdown

Hello faithful reader!

What you are about to read is based on an experience I just had not more than an hour ago. I apologize in advance if any profanity slips through...I'm not angry anymore - but I am extremely frustrated.

It's the last week of summer holidays...and I wanted to take my son out for something fun to do. Because that's what kick ass fun fathers do. And I happen to be one. I have a t-shirt from my son that says so (okay - it says World's Best Dad....but I know what he meant!).

I asked N if he wanted to go bowling or go-carting. I believe in giving him options...so that he feels that he has some control over his life. Bowling was his selection.

Great! I'm excited about the prospect of wearing anthrax infected shoes...and so is N. Grab a drink, snack - and away we go! So far - so good!

We get there (the bowling alley is about 1 minute from my house) - get ourshoes...and wander down to Lane 27. Again....things are going well! It feels great to be able to do something normal with my son. His life is hard at times....and I try to make sure that he gets to experience as many fun and normal things as possible. Because that's what cool fathers do. I happen to be one of those too.

So....we're bowling away....Nicholas is doing pretty well. He's more of a shot putter with the ball....but he's knocking the pins down - and he's thrilled that he's winning (I was throwing mostly junk balls...I wanted him to win).

So....we finish the first game....and by the time he has finished his snack....and decides that he would like some pizza from the snack bar because he is still hungry. I had planned for a lunch outing afterwards...but hey - who doesn't like greasy bowling alley pizza? Nicholas remembers that he had pizza there on his birthday party...so in his mind - pizza is the only option.

So we go to the snack bar....and oddly enough - I don't see pizza as an option on the menu board. I start to get a little worried.

The girl...or rather child...finally comes over to ask us if she can help us. Why yes indeed! My son asks for some pizza!

"Sorry - we only sell pizza for birthday parties."

"WTF?" crosses my mind.

My son then states...."well you have a picture of pizza up there and I would like some please!".

I can see how this is going to go....and he's trying so hard to use all the manners and calm voice that we've taught him to use....

"Well - there isn't any pizza"....and she walks away.

""WTF??" crosses my mind again.

I try to explain the deal to my son....he's not buying it - he wants what he wants....and besides the picture is right up there on the order board.

"Fries dude?"

"No!"

"Hot dog?"

"No!"

"Onion rings"

"No!!!!! Pizza!!!!"

I knew I was screwed when he wouldn't go for the fries. He won't eat hot dogs (smart call by the way)....and he's never eaten an onion ring in his life.

At this point he's in the throws of a complete and utter meltdown. I end up chasing him all over the bowling alley....trying to catch him - which I do. I can move pretty damn fast...even in sandals.

I kneel down to his level and try my best to explain the situation...he's not buying it.

I promise to take him to see Jenny (his girlfriend at Pizza Pizza) afterwards...

"No!!!!! I want bowling pizza!!! The picture is right there!!!"

{side note - we did go see Jenny afterwards....and he was cucumber calm the whole time while we were there}. In fact we had a whole conversation about what went down at the bowling alley. My son was sorry that he was 'hyper'...and I was sorry that I had to end our bowling outing. He gave me a high five...and we apologized to each other.

Now while all this is going on....with me chasing my son, and me trying to talk to him while he is screaming and freaking out - I begin to realize (duh!) that we were the centre of attention (obviously) and the whole bowling alley is staring at me like I'm the worst father imaginable.

And here is what I'm frustrated about...and here is where I may end up typing more profanity than you're used to reading:

Listen up you @ssholes! I don't need you staring at me or my son. Can't you see I'm having a hard enough time as it is with out all you jerks staring and gawking at me like I'm some sort of child molester?

Can't you #ucking see that my son is different...and all you people pointing and laughing is mean and harmful?

Don't you understand that I'm trying my very best to calm him down and make everything all right???

You think I enjoy having to hold him under one arm in order to prevent him from running away...while I try to pay with the Interac machine? This is a skill that I'm sure many parents of autistics master.

And to the lady who made the nasty comment - which I won't repeat here...I hope one day I see you in need of help, and that I'm there to witness it. Because I'll make a similar comment to you...and laugh in your face. Karma is a two way street you witch...and you'll have earned it. But I will end up helping you anyways...even though you don't deserve it.

So here it is all - an open note to all the evil, nasty people who happened to be at the Dundas Bowlerama at about 11:30 on Sept 2, 2009.

Don't you dare sit there and pass judgement on me. You haven't lived this life for 5 years. You have no idea what I experience.

I am a great father - and I know that for a fact. My son tells me all the time. Many fathers end up bailing on their autistic children. Well screw you....I'm in it for the long haul...and I've been living this life for 5 years - and I don't give a damn what you think if me....but I will fight back on behalf of my son. He's not able to yet....but he's learning.

Sitting at home and watching a Jenny McCarthy special on Larry King does not even remotely quality you as being able tell me what I'm doing wrong or think ill of me, or my son. All of these kids are unique...and they all respond to different things in different ways. That article you read in Cosmo or whatever pop-up book it is that you just finished in no way prepares you for this lifestyle.

You have to live it to get it. And if you don't get it - do me a favour; just shut up and let me try and deal with it the best I can. I don't point fingers at you because you're ugly now do I? :)

Oh...and to the girl who tried to offer me a coupon for my next visit? Get real. I won't be back. I'm going to find a bowling alley that actually has the stuff they advertise on their menu board....and if I have to drive 1,000 miles to find it....that's cool with me. My son is a great little bowler.

Is a little pizza too much to ask? Because it certainly seems that understanding from anyone these days is.