Autistic Adventures

The Tree Has Got To Go!

2011-12-31T11:51:00.000-05:00

Interesting Christmas this year....very interesting indeed!

Yes - we were up at 4:30AM opening presents....same as usual.

Yes - we devoured massive amounts of chocolate (ok....I devoured massive amounts of chocolate).

Yes - I made a kick ass, stuff your face, lick the plate breakfast.

And YES! The tree has got to go.

Several hours after the opening of gifts - and the subsequent stuffing of the recycle bin....it was decided by a certain little boy that Christmas was over - and that meant that the tree needed to come down.

There he is - plucking ornaments from the tree and depositing them in a non-ornament box....when I so foolishly inquired as to what was going down.

"That's it Daddy! I opened all my loot....so that means Christmas is over!"

"Really? It's not even noon yet man....we have lots of Christmas day left."

"Doesn't matter! It's time to clean up this place....the tree is taking over the room."

-YESSSSS!!!! He is my son!!! I totally agree....the tree has got to go!-

"Well....Mommy likes the tree...maybe we can leave it up for her for a few more days?"

"Hmmmmm.......why?"

"Ummm....because Mommy likes the Christmassy stuff to be up until at least mid April?"

'Uh uh....no way. That is NOT happening. The Easter Bunny will get mad and not stop by....that just won't do! Santa was here - he ate the cookies, drank the milk....and left me a pile of stuff.....but that's over now!"

"Over now? You haven't even played with half the stuff yet! Man....you're kinda Grinchy aren't ya?"

"Don't say that! My name is Nicholas L!"

"Well how about this....we leave the tree up for a few more days....and then we'll take it down together. OK?"

"How many is a few days?"

-I like this...precision! Set and defined time lines and goals. Such a Capricorn! Just like Daddy!-

"A few days is more than 2 - but less than 4."

"3?"

"Yeah - 3 days"

"Why didn't you just say 3 days?"

"Easy there man....I don't work for you....you don't write my evaluations."

"No! Mommy does!!!"....and then some rather maniacal sounding laughter.

And so on...and so forth....the conversation went on for another 15 minutes. Not sure there was any clear winner...but there was no freaking out - so it's all cool.

It's been over 3 days now....the tree is still up. My kid is a slacker! Gonna have to remind him about this....I want that plastic piece of crap boxed up and stashed away....it really is taking over the room. ;)

Where Are All The Autistic Kids?

2011-09-17T01:16:00.001-04:00

I have a question.

Kind of important...and I'm hoping for some feedback.

Where are all the autistic kids?

If the statistics are correct, with there being an incidence of 1 out every 150 kids developing autism - you'd think there would lots of autistic kids out and about.

But there aren't. I should know - I get out and about....and I'm a pretty good observer of my environment. I'm also pretty good at being able to identify autistic people. I've had some experience in the matter. I live with a little boy who has autism...as by now I'm sure you've all figured out. So - I'm a bit of an authority on the subject.

So. Just where are all the autistic kids?

And I think I have an answer. And it's not one I like.

The kids are at home. Living an isolated life because it's often just easier on the parents to leave them at home. And no - I'm not blaming anyone for doing something like that. I totally get it. I've found myself on occasion wanting to do the same thing.

But I don't. He's my son. And sure - he's a little off the wall sometimes....but he's a really cool dude. So...I take him out with me. We go to Wal-mart. We go to the lake. We go to Little Caesars. We go to the zoo. We've even been to Disney World in Florida. We go lots of places.

No - it isn't always easy. Sometimes it can be really difficult in fact. But I have to take him places. Our house is nice and all....but it isn't exciting - and it isn't all that the world has to offer. There are times when I'm out with my son that I'll get the 'look' from other parents. The 'look' usually implies "can't you control your child"...and "you must be a rotten parent".

To answer the questioning looks. No - I can't always control my son. And quite frankly - he doesn't need controlling...he's actually a really good kid - he needs understanding. No - I most certainly am not a rotten parent. I'm a kick ass parent. I've got a son who tells me that all the time. A rotten parent would have bailed a long time ago (sadly - that does in fact happen a great deal).

So...what's the point of this none too frequent blog posting? It's this: if you have an autistic kid. Get him or her out there! Experience the world with him or her. And expose the rest of the world to the fact that not everyone is 'normal' and that these kids are part of society as well....and deserve everything that the world has to offer them.

And please, please, please...enough with the stupid looks when I'm in line at Wal-mart. It's bad enough that I'm in the store as it is (I really don't like Wal-mart...and don't know anyone who admits to actually liking the place - and yet it's full all the time?)....I don't need people giving me weird looks. Besides - we're going to around for quite awhile...going to lots of different places.

So suck it up and get used it. We're going everywhere. You can watch...but please don't look.

Humpty Dumpty Didn't Fall....

2011-06-08T20:37:00.001-04:00

....and he wasn't pushed either. He was thrown. I know it for a fact. I saw the event go down in my kitchen not more than an hour ago. It was a horrible scene - full of drama and devastation. Oh the humanity.

So....what actually did happen you ask yourself. Hang on. I'm getting to it.

My son...who if you've ever read my infrequently posted to blog...is an interesting child. Big time.

Today while I was downstairs in the office....I hear the words, "Daddddddddddddddddyyyy come here!!!! Please". He's demanding and yet polite about it at the same time. Nice.

"What do you want dude?"

"I need your help."

"With what?"

"My story!"

"Huh?"

"Will you please stop whatever it is you are doing and come here?"

Sigh....sure....I needed a break. The job search wears on me at times....and I'm sure there is something amusing afoot. So - like the good dadio that I am (he tells me that I am...so there!)...I trek upstairs to see what's up.

What's up is the fridge door being wide open.

"What's with the fridge being open? We have a/c dude....we don't need to cool the house by leaving the fridge open."

A little hand is just pointing at the eggs.....

"Huh?"

"Daddy! I need an egg! Just one please."

I don't like the sound of this. But like I said - I needed a break from what I was doing. And besides - this seems to have the potential to be funny as hell. I'm game.

So....I take out the carton of eggs - and hand him one. Singular. No way he's getting all the whole carton. I like funny. I don't like (overly) messy. It's not like it's Devil's Night....and this ain't high school....oh wait....that was me and my hoodlum friends. You never read that....

"Here dude. Here's your egg. Now....just what do you have in mind?"

"Ahem!"

"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king's horses and all the king's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again."

And then?

Wham-o! The little man who doesn't throw a baseball all that well...wails the eggs onto the floor as hard as he can!

"Ha ha Daddy!!! Look at Humpty! He's broken. Big time!"

"Um yeah....I can see that. I like your story telling...and the mess isn't so bad"

"Glad you think so. And guess what?"

"Yesssssssss?"

"Since all the King's horses and all the King's men couldn't put him back together again.....you get to clean him up. You are the King to me."

If you know me....then you can imagine me rolling my eyes. I'm good at it. Too good on occasion. I'm also gullible on occasion.

And with that? The story teller/kitchen vandal darts out of the room with a slightly maniacal laugh.

"Ha ha Daddy!"

So....I cleaned up the egg. Picked the shell fragments off the fridge, off the cabinet....and off my leg. I'm amused...and besides - I'm not a fan of eggs any ways. Just ask my Mom.

Now....if he thinks he's gonna tell me some story about a cow jumping over the moon....well....I fear that won't end well.

We'll see.

The early kid catches the koala

2010-11-12T08:55:00.001-05:00

I like Australia. Really I do. No - I've never been there...but I've heard great things, and have met some really wonderful people from Australia as a result of Facebook. I know lots about Australia too. There is Foster's beer, that Crocodile Dundee guy, the Opera House, dingos, and so on.

But there's a problem.

And normally - I'm not one to complain about small problems. [stop snickering....this is my blog - so pipe down and just agree with me on this one].

But I do have a small problem with the Land Down Under.

Simply put?

Weird animals.

Huh? You're asking?

Yeah - that's right. I said it. Weird animals.

More specifically? Marsupials.

You know - those cute fuzzy animals that come pre-equipped with their own luggage (pouches).

Ok - so now your thoroughly confused right? What could I possibly have against marsupials? What have they ever done to me?

Well....they haven't done anything to me specifically per se...but they do inspire a little boy with the need to 'spread the word' about what they are. I'm cool with that. I am really entertained by Nicholas's genuine interest in animals [and no Nicholas - we are not buying a goat, or an elephant, or a camel as a pet. We have a hamster....his name is Archie, and he's pretty damn cool!]. I just don't really share the same level of interest - at least not before 6AM.

Let me set the scene for you:

It's early....before 6AM. I believe I just mentioned that.

Daddy is sleeping comfortably in bed.

Blankets are warm and toasty....and I was having a cool dream.

Then it happens....as it's happened many times before.

Poke Poke Poke!

"Daddy?" chirps a pleasant voice. If any voice can actually be called pleasant at that time of day.

There are some less than polite responses....most notably - "go away!"

Poke Poke Poke!!!

"Daaaaaady!!!"

A few more "go aways"....and a non specific threat involving the possibility of Santa's spy network being aware of what's going down.

"DADDDDDDDYYYY!"

Sigh....an eyeball pops open. "Yes little man....was there something you needed?"

"No. I just wanted to tell you something."

"Can it wait?"

"No! This is important!"

Sigh.

"Ok - whats on your mind."

"Did you know that koala bears are marsupials?"

"Actually - I did know that. I've known that since I was in grade 3 from a rather irate exchange teacher from Australia. So yes dude - I knew that."

"Well guess what?"

"What?"

"I'm in grade 3 too! And I know that too! So that means I'm just as smart as you!"

"Cool."

"And guess what else?"

"What?"

"Koala's like to eat eucalyptus leaves. They have pouches. And they like to hang out in trees and laugh [I think he means kookaburras....and I think those guys are birds....and they hang out in old gum trees. A little feedback from the Australian branch of the family would be good here] And while they are called Koala Bears...they are not really bears. Real bears don't have pouches."

"That's good to know Nicholas. Did I really have to have Koala Class 101 so early?"

"Yes. Yes you did. You never know when you're going to need to know something."

And then in a flash - he's gone.

He's right though. You do never know when you're going to need something. Just in case I ever actually do get on Jeopardy.

Alex! I'll take "Australian animals I have yet to eat for $100!"

Opinion Piece

2010-11-10T18:49:00.005-05:00

Hello faithful reader!

Today's posting is not going to be related to anything cool or fun that my son did (he did bring home his Halloween bat from school today....it's really cool!). No - today's posting is about corporate responsibility, and how some companies would appear to place more value on money, than actual values.

Wow - that's pretty heavy you must be thinking right now. I know, I know....you've come to expect all my writings to be uplifting and funny.

Please bare with me - and I'm sure you'll be just fine with where I'm headed with this. If you're not - well....that's okay too.

Here we go:

Today I became aware of the fact that Amazon.com is selling a book that can only be best described as a "How To" manual for pedophiles.

Stop for a second and let that sink in before you continue to read.

Yes. You read that correctly. An actual "How To" guide for pedophiles. If you're feeling a sense of anger deep in the pit of your stomach....then welcome to the club. I am mad about this - and I'm going to try and use this new fangled Internet thingy to see if Amazon will reverse its decision about carrying this book. If social media has the power to get Rogers to give some lady a deal on an iPhone when her contract renews...then perhaps my blog can do the same with Amazon (not giving me an iPhone deal...I'm a Blackberry guy....but to reverse it's decision about carrying this 'book')?

Here's a link for the book on Amazon.com - Click here for a peek at the reviews. I'm posting this here so that other people can see with their own eyes that this 'book' does in fact exist. I'm trying to be as fair as possible here - it's not easy because there's a lot of nasty things I really want to say. But I'll take the high road on this - venting and swearing is not going to lend credibility to my position. A reasonable response to Amazon's email to me might.

Yes - I actually called them. When I first became aware of the book - it was from a link to an MSNBC article on Facebook. I too added to the discussion - in as a polite and well thought out way as I could muster (I was good. Some weren't).

I figured that I needed to do more than just say on Facebook that I was going to close my account. Lots of people said that. I wanted my response to this situation to have some meaning and impact.

So - I called them. And I had a great discussion with a charming lady at Amazon. She was as mortified as I was. She totally understood why I felt carrying this 'book' was just a bad idea. She put me on hold for a bit so that she could find out more. I waited for 5 minutes and she came back with the response that Amazon's position was 'under review'. Ok I said - thanks for listening to me, and hearing me out. It was a civilized discussion (no sense in ruining her day....she just answers the phone) and I enjoyed speaking with her.

A few hours later, I received the following email from Amazon. My responses are interspersed in bold, and in Trebuchet font.

Thank you for writing to Amazon.ca with your concerns. I understand that you feel very strongly about this issue.

Wrong. I called Amazon.com. I did not email Amazon.ca. At least try and make me think that you heard me when I called.

Let me assure you that Amazon.ca does not support or promote hatred or criminal acts; we do support the right of every individual to choose his or her own reading material or entertainment.

Wrong. Making a book available that allows an author to promote pedophilia is an act that promotes hatred and/or a criminal act. There is no love involved in that type of act. And last I heard - it was certainly illegal. And for the record...no. I've never been a victim of sexual abuse, but I know people who are - and their lives are forever scared by the experience.

I'd just like to see Amazon exercise some judgement that places the well being of children over that of profit. Amazon makes a lot of money already - do they really need to profit off of this type of material?

As a retailer, our goal is to provide customers with the broadest selection possible so they can find, discover, and buy any item they might be seeking. That selection includes some items which many people may find objectionable. Therefore, the items offered on our website represent a wide spectrum of opinions on a variety of topics.

Ok - no problem there. Typical self promoting boilerplate. I have to wonder though...can I order a copy of the Anarchist's Cookbook from Amazon? How about how to build a nuclear bomb in my backyard? Some might find those types of books enjoyable as well.

Amazon.ca believes it is censorship not to sell certain titles because we believe their message is objectionable. Therefore, we'll continue to make controversial works available in the United States and everywhere else, except where they're prohibited by law. We also allow readers, authors, and publishers to express their views freely about these titles and other products we offer on our website. However, Amazon.ca doesn't endorse opinions expressed by individual authors, musical artists, or filmmakers.

A lawyer clearly wrote this paragraph. Amazon absolves themselves or responsibility - but still provides a book that says, "hey....we're not into what you're into - but here's a book to get you started".

So Amazon....I too am freely expressing my view...and if I use your logic I'm all good. Right?

We value all feedback from our customers, and I thank you again for taking the time to send us your comments about this issue. Although we won't be able to comment further on this topic, we hope you'll allow us to continue to serve you.

Ok - that's great! They want me as a customer.

Did we answer your question?

No. I never asked any questions. I was expressing my disgust with your selection of reading material.

If yes, please click here:

If not, please click here:

Please note: this e-mail was sent from an address that cannot accept incoming e-mail.

Not surprising. I'm sure they're getting a lot of flack at the moment.

To contact us about an unrelated issue, please visit the Help section of our web site.

Well - I will have one final contact. It will be when I close my account for good. I'll buy my books from Chapters.ca or Barnes & Noble from now on.

Best regards,

As the parent of a special needs child - I need to be extra vigilant when it comes this type of thing. My son is very trusting. He has a hard time understanding that anyone would ever want to do him any harm. His heart is pure gold - and he believes that everyone in the world is as nice and warm as he is. To him - there are no bad people. Only those who like animals - and those who don't. I will do everything and anything in my power to keep him safe from the sick perverted freaks that walk among us. And that's why I'm doing more than just complaining on a Facebook wall about it. I have to. And if Amazon want to sue me for this posting? I wish they wouldn't - but if they do? Well....my principles are worth more than any money I might have saved away for my son's future. If I have to lose everything I own so that I can protect him from the likes of the people who buy that sort of book....so be it. I don't see that as being likely though...the publicity alone would hurt them more than me....and I'd likely make a ton of dough from people visiting my blog and clicking on the Google ads.

If I've learned anything in my life its this:

When a friend begins to demonstrate values that do not mirror your own - it's time to move on. That's a hard lesson to learn at times, but I've mastered it now. I'm sorry Amazon - I considered you a good friend....always willing to take my order at any hour of the day or night, offer me a fabulous selection of reading material - and have it shipped to me quickly. You were always there when I needed you...and you never complained when I didn't have time for you. But this? No. I'm sorry...the values you demonstrate in making this book available to the masses simply does not work for me. I wish you well...but it's time for us to part ways.

Good bye Amazon.

Scumbagalytics

2010-11-10T02:50:00.000-05:00

Greetings and salutations!

It's late, I'm tired....and more than a little sick of studying - but life goes on. As you can tell - I've actually been posting on my blog over the past day or so. 2 entries in one day? Whoa. The creative juices are flowing (can anyone tell me where that particular phrase originated from? It sounds rather obscene...but it works).

So....whats the thought du jour?

It's an interesting one - and one that doesn't have anything to do with Nicholas....at least not directly. Sorry - no humorous posting tonight.

It has to do with data (no - not the guy from Star Trek...but he's pretty cool too). Yeah....real interesting you're thinking to yourself. Well....it is. So deal.

I'm a data guy by profession....I make the occasional map too (still)....but really - it's all about the data. And the data that Google Analytics captures for me has revealed something either very interesting, or very disturbing. I'm not entirely sure - so I'm throwing it out there, in the hopes that I get some feedback from people. I'm interested in what people's experiences actually are on the subject.

Which simply is this: I have noticed that there are a fair number of people finding my blog through Google using the keywords 'autism' and 'eviction' (I also seem to get a lot of visitors from California as well - go figure). And it's got me wondering....

Are there landlords out there trying to evict autistic tenants? A spam comment has even been left on my blog....some company that assists landlords in enforcing eviction notices it would seem. Obviously whoever left that particular comment hasn't actually taken the time to read at least some of what I've written. Yeah bud...I'll get right back to you on that one.

If people are being evicted because of being autistic....wouldn't that be a form of discrimination? I would certainly think so - but I don't know for sure. I would like to think that it is, and that this is something that wouldn't be possible.

At the very least - the data tells me that there is still a lot of work to be done to build awareness of what autism is - and what it isn't. Autism is not the plague, it is not contagious, and it is not some life ending affliction that is going to destroy some landlord's property value (that's what university students are for). If people are doing searches with these keywords....then there must be a reason for it. And I would like to know why.

I truly hope that autistics are not facing the prospect of losing their home just because their brains are wired a bit differently. Notice the word 'differently'. Different is good. I hope that I'm wrong, and that I'm reading too much into the data. Autistics have enough things to deal with...potential homelessness shouldn't be one of them.

For myself personally? I'm not worried about what might happen with respect to my son's living situation should something bad happen to my wife and I. We own our home....so that means Nicholas owns a home as well. No one is ever going to be able to take that away from him - we've made sure that he will always have a place to call home.

And if by some chance you are a landlord, and you are trying to evict someone with autism. Well...how do I put this as politely as possible without alienating the people who visit my blog on a regular basis. Hmmmm. Nope. Can't really do it. You're a scumbag, and you should be ashamed of yourself...plain and simple.

Feedback on this entry is appreciated....as they are with any of my postings.

Good night.

Laughing Child and No Beer...Makes Daddy Something Something

2010-11-09T12:57:00.000-05:00

If you've been reading my blog you likely know that my son has an affinity for the Internet. YouTube has largely replaced his watching TV....which I'm good with, as I'd rather see my son control the content he views as opposed to just sitting there and having something spoon fed to him. If you have an autistic child in your life, then you already know that control is something that is very important.

I'm not sure that I'm overly thrilled with his recent fixation though. Don't get me wrong - I enjoy The Simpsons as much as the next 38 year with a rather childish sense of humor. Homer just has that ability to speak to me.

And now? He speaks to my son.

Over the past week or so - it has become a common sound in my house to hear a little boy laughing uncontrollably. And we're not talking a good chuckle here - it's a full blown case of the giggles....that can last, and last....and last. You get the idea.

And this is all a good thing - really it is. Nicholas' life is challenging, and he puts up with so much 'crap' from the adults in his life. Therapists, doctors, teachers, and on and on - there is quite the team of people involved in his life...all with good intentions mind you.....but I'm sure he views us as a pain in the ass sometimes who should just let him be. So - if he finds something that he enjoys, I try to be supportive. And besides - the sound of a laughing child is right up there with Rush.

Last night I had to basically pry a giggling child of the computer....he had totally lost it, and was in the midst of what is best described as a 'gigglefit'. Nicholas just could not get over the giggles. Gotta give Homer credit...he's a funny guy!

It was quite the scene. He's laughing...and I'm trying not to laugh. I have learned that trying to get a giggling child ready for bed is pretty damn difficult. Not bad or anything....just difficult.

So.....I finally, finally, finally....got him all ready and into bed. And then it starts up again. He's obviously watching reruns in his head....and he's laughing so hard I thought he'd either pass out from lack of oxygen - or puke. He did neither I'm happy to say.

He eventually settled down - and after the ritual that I must perform as part of his going to bed, he seems settled and ready to crash out. I left.

Fast forward 15 minutes.

I'm downstairs in my office...studying for my PMP exam when I hear 'the laugh'! He's out of bed, back on YouTube and giggling up a storm. The fact that I heard all this going on over the sounds emanating from my iPod gives you some indication as to the volume.

I sigh....do one of my famous eyeball rolls - and proceed to venture back upstairs. And there he is...watching Homer being Homer - and laughing so hard there were tears running down his face.

Now its get challenging.

"Get into bed dude!"

"No!"

"What?"

"No! I have to watch this!"

"You watched that same Homer Burger King clip all night! Enough already!"

"No way dude!"

Did he just call me dude? Uh huh....he most certainly did. It's hard to be a disciplinarian when I'm obviously trying not to laugh myself.

"Alright. That's it. You either get into bed right now, or I'm gonna sell your computer on eBay!"

"I'll just use one of yours then!"

"Nicholasssssss"

"Daaaaaaaad!"

Now he's mocking me? I know I was kind of feisty when I was younger....but I listened to my Dad (I saved most of my 'feistyness' for school anyways...teachers never had much power over me....what are they gonna do? Take my allowance away?). This is not going to plan. I gotta give him credit though - Nicholas is a quick thinker. He's able to develop alternative plans on the fly...

I proceed to pull the chair away from the computer...and then he does the "Floor Flop"....you know....that fall on the floor move that giggling kids make. You do know that move right? No? Now you do.

So there he is. 8 years old, writhing on the floor, and literally laughing his ass off....and I suspect mocking me.

So I pick him up and carry him back to bed. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to do that. He's getting to be a big boy....and it's hard to pick him up of the floor. My back is sore today....

So I finally get him back into bed - and the giggles start to subside (for the most part). He insists that I perform a few Homerisms....which I can do quite well [where can I put that on my resume?] and then he seems satisfied and content.

I tell him good night and all that sweet stuff.

Silence prevails in the house....

Until about 5am this morning. He was up early - and apparently doing his laundry (Mommy handled that one....I was still in bed)....but that's a blog for another day. I need to study.

Are Dinosaurs Tasty?

2010-11-09T11:40:00.000-05:00

Ok - it's been quite some time since you've been entertained by what my son may or may not be up to. And I'll get to that in a minute what he's been up to lately in a few short paragraphs.

But first - I need to give credit to where credit is due. I have a confession to make. I steal images. Shamelessly. From all over the Internet. There. Now you know.

I typically like to find a picture on the Internet (Google image search rocks!) that suits the mood of the whatever it is I'm about to post.

So does Nicholas it would seem...but for different reasons.

From what my son tells me, the Cretoxyrhina was a prehistoric bad ass who chomped his way through the oceans. The picture you see above was...ahem....pinched....from somewhere on the vast image resource known as the Internet. This particular one was pilfered from a website where the guy appears to paint pictures of dinosaurs.....I actually don't know what the site is about....like I said I'm an image thief....I move fast - and don't linger for long at the scene of the crime. But please check out the dude's site....it's actually kind of cool. Prehistoric World.

Ok - so where was I headed with this posting? Oh yes....dinosaurs. Dinosaurs are very important right now it would. Project worthy one might say (just don't ask if they're tasty!)

Right now there is a project that that has required my input on a nightly basis. You see....my son has decided that he would like a collection of books about various dinosaurs. And not just any old dinosaurs....you know....the T Rex and familiar ones like that. No....my son likes to find the most obscure prehistoric beasts to write about.

Hence the Cretoxyrhina. I had never heard of that one until a few days ago....when my help was enlisted in finding a good cretoxyrhina image on the Internet. I don't know how Nicholas discovered this guy....nor do I have any clue how he found the other rather obscure dinosaurs either. He just does. To Nicholas - the Internet is a vast resource of things that were pretty much put up there for his express enjoyment. In a way? I envy my son....he has access to information so readily, and has mastered it at such a young age - while I on the other hand had to do research for my thesis using the pre-web Internet.

Anyways - a rather large collection of dinosaur books in the works. He finds the image, pastes it into Word - and then prints it out. The narrative is always done by hand....he is good with the keyboard, but he prefers his own unique touch when telling the story.

After much writing - a collection of sheets is handed to me.

"Here Daddy. I'm done....you need to staple it together"

And I do....very carefully. Three staples down the left hand side of the pages. It has to be done just so. Messing this step up (as I've learned) doesn't always go down well. The nerve of me in ever thinking that a single staple in the to corner would suffice. These are books we're making after all....not some cheesy top corner stapled brochure. Books require spines.

So far, we have created about 4 or 5 of these books. I finally inquired what it was be planned on doing with his wonderful collection.

"I'm taking them to school. The kindergarten kids don't know about this stuff - and they need to. I have to make sure that they understand what dinosaur came from which time period. This is important information that every boy and girl needs to know. So I'm going to bring them to school and share them with the little kids [so says the 8 year old kid]."

Makes sense to me.

Comm Binder v1

2010-10-07T20:24:00.000-04:00

Nicholas has a Communications Binder. It follows him to and from school. We write things we think the teacher(s) should know. They write things they think we should now. It's a great little system we have going here - I much prefer it to phone calls from the school.

Follows is the latest dispatch from the CommBinder....these can be less than ideal to read at times....but this one was pretty good. I'm sure you will agree.

"Oct 7, 2010

Ms. XYZ was absent today. Thanks for the heads up regarding his morning - we kept the demands low with plenty of breaks. Nicholas had plenty of energy to burn today - the trampoline was our friend!! He did really well!

Over lunch Nicholas spotted a book he was interested in through the door of the classroom beside us. He darted in and grabbed it with a quick "Can I borrow this? I'll take that as a yes!" (They were working at the other end of the room). I told him that when you ask to borrow something you need to wait to hear the answer. He said he doesn't like waiting. I walked him through what might happen when the class goes to read their book at story time and to discover it was gone (they might feel surprised and sad). He thought about this and said, "I'll put it back!". Seemed proud of himself - I thought you might like to know. :)

Nicholas earned his stage pass again today - great transitions today as well. Have a great night!"

And of course I had to make sure Nicholas didn't hear me laughing as I read this....because I could just picture him doing it too. :) I'm glad he had a good day. He does have a lot of them...but he does have bad days too - and its so obvious at times when he's had a bad day. You can see it in his face when he gets off the bus. He'll have that, "get outta my way people - I'm all stressed out. I'm done with your educational system for the day....so now if you don't mind, I'd like to go inside, wash my hands, grab my snack - and get my YouTube on" expression on his face. :)

GQ Man 2.0

2010-06-12T09:45:00.004-04:00

Something is going on. Things are changing. And I think I know why.

As you may or may not know, Nicholas doesn't have a lot of variety in his diet. Pizza, fries, bacon, chips, pretzels, macaroni and the occasional piece of fruit are all he's been interested in the past 5 years or so (we do hide veggies in his pizza and his macaroni though). Chicken nuggets are a recent addition to his food repertoire....quite the breakthrough indeed!

Over the past few weeks - he's decided that he needs to eat 'heath food'. That's his phrase - not mine.

All of a sudden he's actually asking for blueberries and yogurt, and things like that. This morning he wanted raspberries on his cereal (not that he ate more than two bites....but hey! It's a step in the right direction).

So I asked him, "what's with the sudden interest in health food dude?"

"I need to be healthy so I grow big and strong like you!"

"Hmmmm.....really now? You sure you don't have a girlfriend or something?"

"Well of course I have a girlfriend. Her name is Jayden. And even though she goes to a new school - I still love her. One day - I'm going to go to her new school so that we can play like we used to".

My son loves everyone it would seem...but Jayden is a really nice girl - and has always treated my son the way she treats everyone. Nicely and with a very highly developed sense of respect - and she only in grade 2. I was kind of sad when I learned she had to move to a new school. She's an awesome kid!

"Well....that's just great Nicholas! I'm really happy for you!"

At this point - I'm breaking out the cereal that he selected (Corn Flakes), and washing the berries....while he's doing stretches.

"What's with the stretching Nickels?"

"Well you know dad.....not only do I need to eat healthy...but I need to exercise as well. I can't be all out of shape and nasty looking you know. That just won't do!"

I'm thinking to myself that I am in for a world of hurt at some point. He already likes to grab a shirt and tie from my closest and strut around like he's the cat's meow. He obviously pays more attention to what I say and do than I ever thought possible. I need to be careful. I appear to be a role model now. Which is cool with me...as long as he stays away from my beloved concert tshirts (I bought him a Rush one....he only wore it a few times before he outgrew it).

"Well....ok Nickels. I'm down with that. Just make sure you don't over do it".

"Yeah yeah Dad. Thanks for the cereal! Can I watch tv now?"

"Sure - go ahead". Now I know he didn't get that one from me.... I don't really like tv all that much - and if I had my way - we wouldn't have one".

So - I know what's going on. My son is trying to impress a girl. I guess that's fine and all...what male hasn't done that? Now I just need to make sure that he understands that he needs to impress himself first....and that if a girl likes it - cool....but not to live his life thinking that he needs to seek female approval all the time. There's way more to life than that.

I wonder what he's gonna want for lunch?

The Literal Child...Literally

2010-06-08T22:06:00.000-04:00

My son never ceases to amaze me. We just put him to bed a few minutes ago....and voila! Here he is (right over there actually....see...I'm pointing that way) to let us know that he has concerns about his night light. He is worried over the possibility that it will burn out tonight - and that he would like the bulb replaced right now if you please! My wife is taking care of that as I type this. Now - where was I? This posting wasn't to be about night lights and suspicions of monsters that are waiting to get him....that was just an interesting aside. Live action blogging!!

So last night....we put the little man to bed (we tend to do that every night....go figure)....when he decides that after a mere 30 seconds that he can't sleep and that I need to deal with it. What am I? Mr. Sandman or something? He climbs on top of me as I'm sitting on the couch, gets himself all nice and cozy....and proclaims that sleep will be impossible this evening. Here follows the conversation:

Dad? I can't sleep.

Really? You've only been in bed for a minute....you haven't even tried.

I know what I know. And I know that sleep will not happen tonight.

Really?

Yes. Really. Aren't you listening?

What?

Don't say that!

Ok...well...how can I help?

You can't.

Really now?

Yes. Really now.

Well.....have you tried counting sheep?

Sheep? What sheep? There are no sheep! I don't understand.

Well....sometimes when people have trouble sleeping...they try and count sheep.

Where are the sheep?

They imagine them in their head.

No they don't. You're making that up.

No dude....I'm serious.

Well....that just won't work for me. I don't like that idea one bit. Who ever heard of imaginary sheep?

Well....how about we go downstairs and get some of your plastic sheep?

Oh. Yes. That might work.

So.....we go downstairs, and by some miracle are actually able to find the complete set of plastic Playmobil sheep. No small miracle there considering the state of the basement.

Nicholas herds all the sheep together....and we bring them to his room. The sheep are tossed on the bed where he proceeds to literally count the sheep. 1....2....3....4....and so on.

All the sheep have been counted and placed in a row on his shelf above his bed. Nicholas proceeds to lay down, and I tuck him in. All the doggies have been accounted for. The blankets are in the correct order. Everything is good.

I ask him if he will be able to sleep now....he mumbles something - I'm not really sure what it was....as he was actually falling asleep before my very eyes.

See Nicholas? Counting sheep does work! :) Turns out I am the Sandman! Eat your heart out Lars Ulrich!

If you've enjoyed this blog posting and look forward to being able to read more, then perhaps I can persuade you to sponsor me in the upcoming Walk Now for Autism event which is taking place on June 20 in Toronto. My goal is to raise $500....and I'm already about half way to my goal. Please contribute any amount that you are able to by clicking here.

The Scam Du Jour!

2010-05-06T17:07:00.000-04:00

The scam of the day was served last night - and no...my bacon was not stolen. My son has upped his game as of late.

My son has 5 stuffed dogs - I believe I've mentioned them at some point. All identical - and yet seemingly unique in their own way (at least to Nicholas). There's 'old' doggy and 'fresh' doggy. Who were then joined by 'original' doggy (because he was....although he was retired as a back up at one point...and the resurfaced when he was needed), 'classic' doggy....and then finally 'stale' doggy.

Why 5 dogs you ask? Why not! Good parents get back ups of their kid's favorite stuffed animal. We have 4 back ups....the stuffed doggies are an important park of my son's life....so we had to be covered off just in case. They were never intended to roam the house as a pack of wild dogs...but together they now are. So now we have to keep track of 5 doggies - which have since been discontinued.

And it's important to keep the continuity of the group. Very freaking important. They travel together, sleep together, hang out in the washing machine on occasion together...pretty much everything. These dogs (and my son) are inseparable.

For the most part.

Unless a scam is about to executed.

And the doggies are willing accomplices!

So how was I scammed?

At around 8:30 or so last night I went upstairs to let Nichols know that it was bed time in 10 minutes. He said ok.....and he had a dog with him at the time. Then - I went to his room to get things ready for him (pjs, etc.)...there were 4 doggies sitting on his pillow. So I'm in good shape. The kid has agreed to go to bed, the pjs have been selected....and all the mutts have been accounted for.

I retire to my man cave for about 10 minutes.

Upon my return upstairs - I find my son already in his pjs and quietly reading a book while sitting on the couch.

"Ready for bed little man?" I ask.

"Nope!" is the response.

"And why not?"

"Because a doggy is missing - and YOU need to find it. Right away!" he retorts.

"Well....where is it dude? I just saw you with it a few minutes ago?"

"I dunno"

"Really?"

"Yes really! And you HAVE to start looking. And while you take care of that...I'll just be sitting here reading my book. Please start looking daddy."

Something is not right about this. A missing doggy is usually cause for a call to 911. He seems oddly calm this time around. Something about this scene has me suspicious.....

"Ummmm Nicholas....did you hide the doggy?"

"Yep!"

"Where?"

"I dunno"

"Hmmmm.....as if dude."

My first thought is to say screw this dude...you know where the doggy is and if you want it badly enough you'll get it on your own....I don't have time for games.

But in reality? I do have time for games. Games are fun....and besides - if I can crack his scam this time...I might not be so easy to fool the next time around. We'll see.

"So where is the doggy dude?"

"I dunno"

"Am I hot or cold?"

"I dunno"

And so on and so forth for a few minutes.

"You look around daddy....I'm going to my room. I'm sure you can find him!"

My son retires, with book, to his room. He's humming to himself and thoroughly enjoying his mastery of the environment. That's a good thing - even at 8. And he gets so little of that at times...

Ok - so the doggy is not at eye level. Not at foot level - and not behind the couch cushions. It must be up. And indeed it was.

My son was somehow able to get soggy...or was it fresh doggy?...onto the very top of the Ikea Billy bookshelf...one of the tall ones with 6 shelves baby! I don't know if he used a chair, or if it was a good throw. I'm not sure...because the chair was put away (which he never does) and Nichols is not known for his pitching abilities - but he's getting pretty good with the soccer ball. :)

I retrieve doggy and enter my son's inner sanctum with doggy in hand.

"Oh good job daddy! You found fresh doggy! Now I will be able to sleep!" as he settles down in to bed while handing me a book.

He then puts his hand out without saying a word and just looks at me. I hand over the doggy.

"Thank you daddy."

"Your welcome Nicholas. How did you get him up onto the bookshelf?"

Silence.

"Nicholas?"

My son motions for me to come closer.

I bend over his bed - and he puts me in a head lock to whisper, "it's a secret. I love you. Good night!" in my ear.

"I love you too Nicholas"...and I take my cue and leave with a kiss on his forehead.

Good night dude. Good scam too!

The Pizza Critic

2009-12-16T10:35:00.001-05:00

For those of you who have been reading my blog - you'll likely be aware of the fact that my son doesn't eat a wide variety of foods. If it's not bacon, pizza or pasta - odds are he won't touch it....and will likely go on a hunger strike until the offending morsel of food is removed from his plate.

Last night I happened to be at a friend's place for dinner. The friend is Enrico...and he's Italian - and man...can he ever through down a mean homemade za!

I won't bore you with the details about my visit to Enrico's place....not that it was boring, just not relevant to where this blog posting is going.

As I was preparing to leave (many hours later)...Enrico offered me the leftover food. I was stuffed as it was...but I thought that my son might enjoy it as a change from the usual pizza we make him at home.

So...this morning as we're getting him ready for school - and after Nicholas invited me to his Christmas Concert this evening (apparently he's singing John Lennon's Imagine)...I told him that I had a surprise for him.

"Oh boy! What is it?"

"Food."

"Food isn't a surprise - you give me that everyday!"

"But this is different food. It's homemade pizza imported from Mississauga!"

"Really? Let me see!"

So I grab the pizza from the fridge and start to unwrap the foil.

"Ohhhhhhh Daddy! That looks tasty....where'd you get it?"

"I told you - it's imported from Mississauga. Remember I went out last night for dinner? Well - I brought you something"

"Can I try it?"

"Ummm...yeah....that's the whole idea. Take a bite - and if you like it, you can take it to school for lunch"

"Are you kidding me?" My son seems to think that I can never be serious...not sure how that happened, but I don't question these things.

"No. I'm not kidding. Here...give 'er a whirl."

A little hand grabs a slice....and he starts to examine it.

"Hey....it's not cut in the correct slices. Are you sure this is pizza?"

"Yeah man - I'm pretty sure....look...there's cheese, and salami....and sauce and crust. Yeah - that would be pizza. I ate some last night....just because it wasn't round doesn't mean it isn't pizza."

"Hmmmm....well.....ok."

A bite is taken....

"Well little man? What's the verdict? Is it good stuff or what?"

"It's awesome daddy! Can I take it all to school?"

"You sure can little dude."

"Thanks Daddy....and thank Enrico for me too! And why don't you make pizza like this? You really should you know!"

Sigh...thanks Enrico - you screwed me again Pennypacker! :) Now I likely can't go to your place without the expectation that I'll be coming back with pizza in hand....good thing you've got that cool stove with the two ovens.

The Secret is Out!

2009-12-13T16:38:00.000-05:00

Our house has lots of rooms. Rooms for cooking, eating, doing laundry, sleeping (and other assorted activities!), tool stash, an office, a few bathrooms...and The Secret Room.

Yeah - that's right. Our house has a secret room. And before any of you start wondering what is happening in The Secret Room....no....there are no indoor 'tomatoes' or anything like that happening in there. Its just a room where there is an abundant stash of unopened toys....and a huge chest freezer.

And I mean a ton of toys. Many, many toys. So many toys that Toys 'R Us calls me when they run out of inventory. Yeah boys and girls - its a real scene in that room....let me tell ya! Why are there so many toys stashed away? My wife used to buy a lot of stuff when it was on sale....or stuff for kids party's....or stuff that Nicholas would get when he was old enough. Needless to say - she bought a lot of stuff. The only good thing about the secret room is that the inventory is diminishing, and the inflow has nearly stopped. We have likely given away several thousand dollars worth of brand new toys to various Children's Aid societies - so we feel pretty good about that.

Now....where was I?

Ah yes....the secret room. Well - the secret is out!

Or rather...my son has now mastered the anti-child device that used to keep him out of there. He know's what's in there....and he used to get real excited when we would bring him in to cash in his tokens for some new loot. [Nicholas is on the token system....good behaviour means he gets tokens....and the more tokens he has....the bigger the loot box he can cash it in for. Sort of like those arcades where you hand in your 8 tickets for some crappy plastic toy.....or 8,000 tickets for a slight larger crappy plastic toy].

The other day a little boy with a huge smile on his face comes cruising through the living room with a new box of Lego. He's happily humming to himself - and proceeds to plop himself down on the carpet to commence playing with his latest acquisition. He doesn't seem to get that if you're gonna pinch stuff....that it likely isn't a great idea to sit down and start playing with the stuff in front of the people most likely to say something about it. Guile isn't his thing.

"Ummmm Nicholas?"

"Yes Mommy?"

"Where did you get that toy?"

"Oh.....you know........"

"Actually no....I don't. Where did you get it?"

"I got it from the secret room!"

"How did you get in there?"

"Through the door."

"The door was left open?"

"Nope. I opened it myself. I'm a big boy - I can do that you know!"

I left the room at this point....I was trying not to laugh, and undermine what my wife was trying to do.

"Nicholas sweetie....you know the secret room is for Mommy and Daddy....and you can only go in when you're with one of us."

"Yeah - I know all that."

"So....why did you go in then?"

"To get this Lego set! See - isn't it cool?"

"But Nicholas.....there are rules that you need to obey and understand."

"Rules? I was really good at school this week - and I felt like rewarding myself!"

[At this point...there is a lot of laughter coming from the kitchen]

"Pipe down in there!!!"

"Now Nickels....you understand that we would prefer that you not go in there". [We're hiding stuff from Santa in there as well....as if he could tell the difference between old loot - and loot that is about to be wrapped]

"I know - but I needed a new toy. And look! Here it is!!! There's no need to get upset Mommy. I only took one....and I didn't make a mess at all. So it's really ok."

I hear a sigh....

"Ok Nicholas...you can have that set - but stay out from now on, or else Daddy will tell Santa!"

[Why am I the heavy? It isn't a role I play very well!]

"Okayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy Mommy"

"Thank you for listening Nickels.....I think"

It is around this time I hear the words:

"Hey Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad! You need to come here and help my put together this Lego set."

"Right on dude.....I'm totally there with ya!"

My wife rolls her eyes....she's living with two children it would seem - one is 7....the other is 37.

And besides - Daddy wanted to play with that set anyways.... :)

It snowed

2009-12-09T10:18:00.001-05:00

It finally snowed in Toronto. This is exciting news indeed!

Even more so if you're 7 years old.

The day got off to a slow start....Nicholas didn't get out of bed until 6:30AM. This is considered sleeping in.

At around the same time....a little voice calls up the stairs to the master bedroom (with en suite facilities no less)..."Hey Daaaaaaaaaad! Did it snow?"

I remain silent.

"Daaaaaaaaaaaad?"

I'm not saying a word...I refuse to get out of bed until 6:45AM. That's my rule, and I'm sticking too it. The house could be burning down...I don't care. There is no reason for any human being to be up and about before 6:45AM.

Nicholas is not liking that I'm not out of bed yet....so he decides to come upstairs and offer some....encouragement?

"Hey Daddy! Did it snow? Did it?? Come on....you neeeeeeeed to look out the window and tell me".

"You've got eyes dude....go look yourself!"

"Fine then. I will!"

I'm hoping that that'll be the end of it....he'll see that it snowed, and then I can enjoy my last 7 minutes in bed.

No such luck.

"Daddy!!! It did snow! Oh this is so wonderful! We have to go outside now!!"

"Uh uh little man....Daddy ain't going outside. I'm old - and it's cold!"

"You're not thaaaaaaat old. Come on, come on....you can do it!"

So I get out of bed. Nicholas starts handing me clothes to put on....and then he drags me downstairs. My socks don't match right now in case anyone is interested. Matching socks matter not when there's snow to be played in.

I go to the front door and see that yes indeed - it had snowed. How lovely. It isn't even good fluffy white snow....it's that rain laiden crap that is a pain to shovel - and that can't be used for decent snowballs. I'm not interested any longer in the snow.

But my son is.

He's busy running around getting his coat on...and trying to find his boots. He actually thinks I'm going outside in the cold and dark? Silly man. That ain't gonna happen.

I mention that he can play in the snow when he gets to school. He announces that he is in fact NOT going to school....and that he is going to stay home so that he can play in the snow.

"No way dude. They have snow at school. My taxes dollars ensure that they do."

A little argument ensues....at which point I just tell him to get his stuff on and go play in the backyard. He is totally into it...he think's he's won.

He has his stuff on in record time....and he's out in the backyard. He threw a snowball at the window (a few times I might add), he pulled his wagon around....and then he made snow angels.

The fact that it was raining didn't seem to bother him. The fact that I could barely see him in the dark was not an issue at all....his boots have those little red LED lights on them. It's kind of funny to not be able to actually see your kid....but know where his feet are at any given moment.

So this is great! He's outside getting soaked. And I'm inside making bacon....looking out the window periodically.

Getting him inside is another matter. He wasn't into it.....and another 'discussion' takes place. I won that one. And then I had to throw his mittens, hat and coat into the dryer....he was soaked.

And of course - while I'm downstairs doing all that....the bacon was stolen.

He was quite the happy little dude this morning. Got to play in the snow...and pinched bacon - and all before 7:30AM. He even went to school without any further 'discussions'.....

Sure hope they have snow there....I told him there would be. :)

December - The Month of Mischief

2009-12-08T20:08:00.002-05:00

I don't understand.

It's December right? That special month of the year when all the little boys and girls of the world try and behave...and make up for the 11 months of torment they've just put their parents through.

Well - something is not working this year.

This year, even with Nicholas still totally buying the Santa Claus story...and the fact that I have Santa's 800 number, email address and cell phone number, he's just not really into the month of penance for the loot.

Since the tree went up last weekend, I have been woken up early on several occasions due to Christmas related mishaps.

The wonderful sound of glass ornaments being dropped onto the floor at 5AM....and then the little tinkle crinkle sounds that are made as my son breaks the pieces into even smaller pieces. Gotta feed that vacuum!
The incessant singing of the 12 Days of Christmas....again - shortly after 5AM.
A search and destroy mission looking for some Christmas VHS tape. Yes - our VCR player still works - and gets use!
The pinching of Daddy's nose so that is glows red.

Ominous threats of calling Santa at home with updates of transgressions have little effect. Other than, "Oh Daddy - you're just being silly. Santa's too busy to talk to you."

Repeated warnings that Santa is always watching merely garner replies like, "Daddy? It's December you know...Santa is much too busy getting my toys ready to actually have time to watch me!"

I know Nicholas still believes. He wasn't all that impressed when I lit a fire in the fire place just a few days ago. "Daddy!!! What are you doing? Santa can't come down here when the fire is going! You need to put it out!".

Never mind the fact that there were still at least 20 shopping days left before the Santa's arrival. (Suble hint there gentle reader....17 days left to buy me something nice! I'm an easy fit...but please - no more shirts or watches...I have too many as it is. I need socks. Damn....I actually aged just typing that.). Or donate to your local Autism Society Chapter.

And when he says those things, in that adorable little adult voice that he has....it just makes me laugh. Likely because I suspect that this is the last year that Santa will be revered...his blackmail power is certainly fading - or maybe Nicholas just doesn't think I actually have the guy's cell phone number?

But I do....

1-800-Ho-Ho-Ho! If you dial that number...and you get some female on the phone - I am not paying the $6.99 a minute charge that is likely to appear on your phone bill. But let me know what she said....I've been good this year! ;)

Untitled

2009-12-04T07:01:00.002-05:00

Sometimes you hear your child say something that helps put life in perspective.

Heard in my son's room after putting him down for the night.

"Daddy? How can I repay you?"

"Repay me for what Nicholas?"

"For being the best Dad in the whole world!"

"You just did - and thank you Nicholas.....good night!"

"Good night Daddy. I love you".

"I love you to dude....now go to sleep - and please....stay in bed".

"Ok!"

And he did! :)

The Perfect Tree

2009-12-03T20:00:00.001-05:00

As with many of my blogs posts....an event transpired in the very early hours of the morning. Good times!

Have you ever read, "The Night Before The Night Before Christmas"?

I have. Once.

Or rather - it was read to me by my son last night.

That's how bed time goes these days - I don't get to read anymore. I get to listen. And I'm not supposed to make silly little character voices either. Or so I've been told by management....

So...last night - Nicholas reads me the story....and then he starts to ask questions about our Christmas tree. Most namely being ' "Where is it?"

Nicholas somehow got it in his head that if we didn't put the tree up...NOW!...then Santa just wouldn't stop by our house. I tried to show him on the calender that there are still 22 days left until Santa is supposed to pop by - and that we're all good for now. I even promised to set the tree up this weekend.

Not good enough.

It has to be now!!!

Not later!

After much disagreement on the subject of when the tree is going up - a deal was extracted from me. That's how it works around here as well. My son and I debate something - back and forth endlessly....and when he see's Daddy isn't buying it - he pulls a Monty Hall.

"Ok Daddy! Here's the deal......."

Oh - this should be really good!

"You go to sleep....and this weekend we'll put the tree up!"

I agree - this is a great deal. And what I wanted anyways.....

My son is not known for living up to his end of the deal.

At precisely 5:11AM I hear the four words that strike fear into my heart:

"Hey Daddddddddy! Get up!"

"No! Go away!" replies a rather grouchy father.

"It's today - and that means its time to put the tree up"

I'm lying there, trying to figure out how he got that it's now the weekend. It damn well isn't. It's Thursday. Gonna be Thursday for the entire day when you come think about it. But the weekend...it most certainly is not.

I roll over - hoping against hope that Nicholas will either go away....or at least go and harass his mother - who happens to be now more than 2 feet away of the other side of the bed.

"Daddddddddddddyyyy!!!!"

Rolling over doesn't work. It just results in having your blankets forcibly removed from the bed.

"Fine dude. Let's go get the tree happening. BUT - just so you know....Santa isn't impressed with you waking me up so early....so don't expect a whole helluva lot of loot under the tree this year."

"Oh Daddy. You're just kidding. Now stop fooling around and go get the tree from the secret room."

"Ok sucka...but you have to come and help"

My son than makes a noise that can best be described as a squeal of delight. I have no idea how to spell the sound he made....sounded like a good time though!

My son then takes my hand....and walks me all the way though the house....into the basement, past the dungeon......along the dark enchanted hallway....until we reach....The Secret Room (no big secret really...its just the room with the freezer....and all the unopened toys that he has yet to get. We don't let him in there).

I open the door to The Secret Room....and I grab a small bag of ornaments. I tell Nicholas to grab the big box with the tree and haul it upstairs. He actually tried to move it....and he was making a go of it - until he said, "Nope! Too heavy for me....you better carry it!"

I do.

We get the box upstairs, and we start taking bits of fake tree out of the box (that was made in China).

I am the master of the artificial tree!

I can assemble one of those mothers in under three minutes....at which point - I decide that there is no point going back to bed. My son is happy with the tree action - and I have further elevated my God like stature in his eyes. It was really nice to hear "Thank you Daddy"....without my prompting him.

I'll always get out of bed for something like that.....because in a few short years - I won't be cool at all. I'll just be that crabby guy with little to no hair who yells at the neighbour's cat to get off his ride. Uh oh....I think I might already be there.

The Vacuum is Hungry!

2009-10-02T12:01:00.000-04:00

Brief note - for a brief incident.

It's Friday, and my son is home today. He claimed he wasn't feeling well....so he got to stay home with us today. I say claimed because I think we were had. He seems just fine to me. Fine enough to get into mischief anyways.

Our house has toys. Lots of them. Many of which are stashed away for the proverbial rainy day. It's not raining today....but it is cold and cloudy outside.

Mommy was on the phone on the top floor, and Daddy was in the basement working away (and reading the highlights of last night's Toronto/Montreal game. Montreal won 4-3 in overtime....which is just as it should be. It was a great game....and I had awesome seats!). But I digress....

While the parents of the household are busy doing their respective things....my son was busy doing his.

Which includes discovering unopened toys. Unopened toys are a sin it would seem. And they require immidiate attention. Or so you'd think....

Toys also sometime come backed in stryofoam...and this is where the fun begins.

A little while ago...I hear "the voice"

"Daddy!! I need your help!!"

"Uh - huh....what's up?

"The vacuum is hungry!"

"Uh - huh....is it now."

"That's right...it told me it was hungry, and its time to feed it!"

"Uh - huh...". At which point - I unplant myself from my moderately comfortable office chair and decide to investigate. I'm hungry too anyways...

When I reach the top of the stairs, my son grabs my hand and says, "you must come with me right now! You will not believe what is happening".

He drags me to the office on the main floor...and low and behold - there is styrofoam all over the carpet...on the desk...on the chair...pretty much everywhere!

"See! Look at this mess!!!"

"Uh - huh....who did that?"

"I don't know"

"Uh huh...so what is it you need me to do?"

"I need you to go back downstairs and get the vacuum. He's hungry - and I know just the thing!"

"Uh - huh....you know Nicholas...you could have asked me to bring it up with me in the first place!"

"I know!"

So....I go downstairs....grab the vacuum, and haul it back upstairs. It's not like I was busy or anything...

In time I was gone...my son has continued to break up the styrofoam so that there were lots and lots of little pieces. Seems the vacuum is quite hungry indeed.

I plug it in, and fire it up...and remove the wand. Which is quickly snatched away. Seems I'm not qualified to feed the vacuum.

After more broken styrofoam....and much laugher. My son had fed the vacuum - and then he bails. Leaving me to actually finish feeding the vacuum....and put it all away. I also vacuumed the living room. :)

In the time I have known my son, I have discovered that by far the coolest toy in the house is the Dyson vacuum. But dammit! That's Daddy's toy! It is a cool toy though.

And I suppose I can learn to share....whether I like it or not! :)

Wet Child = Soaked Daddy

2009-09-28T08:44:00.006-04:00

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?

2009-09-27T13:26:00.005-04:00

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

2009-09-02T13:45:00.006-04:00

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.

Puzzles are puzzling

2009-08-12T09:37:00.003-04:00

'Twas the night before Aug 12,

And all through the house,

Not a creature was stirring,

Not even a mouse"

Ok - it was more like 4:30am...and there was some stirring going on.

A familiar refrain is heard:

"Daddy!!! I need your help!"

I roll over - this must be a dream. No one needs help with anything at 4:30. It just isn't possible. Everyone is supposed to be sleeping.

But no. Not in my little house. Sleeping past 6am is a luxury. And besides - it's 4:30....and that means it's time to get up...run around the house in your bare feet - and look for things that require the assistance of the oh so lovable father figure upstairs.

"DADDY!!! Are you coming to help me?"

My eyes pop open. I don't smell smoke (that's a good thing), I don't hear the fire alarm (that too is a good thing)...and I have no idea what could be so important that my help is required at 4:30am. The birds are still asleep - so why isn't my son?

Good question indeed!

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddddy!!!"

Fine. Now I'm curious. Maybe its the real deal this time? Maybe - just maybe...there is a legitimate reason to be up so freaking early - and calling out my name. Oddly enough...Mommy's name doesn't get called at such an ungodly hour. Just mine.

So I go downstairs to see what the hell is going on. And what do I see?

A little boy who has found a 100 piece puzzle (its a space one...lots of planets and stuff) and its strewn across the floor.

So I ask my son, "Well little man? What's so important that I have to be out of bed so early?"

He looks up...little brown eyes looking oh so cute and states matter of factly, "You need to help me put together this puzzle!"

"I do - do I?"

"Yes - that's right. It's a big puzzle - and only you are allowed to help me."

I think to myself - this is a scam. Only me? What's that all about? How'd I get so lucky? And yet - I feel honored.

"Why yes of course Nicholas! I'd love to help you put the puzzle together. Can we do it later?"

"No! You need to help me today!"

Ask a stupid question.... ;)

So I sit down with my son (who looks really cool in his skull motif pajamas) and we start with the puzzle. Border first - then the rest.

It's going really well. And as we're about done, my son turns to me and states the following:

"Now Daddy! As you can see - we are almost done the puzzle. There are only a few pieces left...and yet I think there is a problem. I think you're hiding the last piece of the puzzle. You always do that. So you might as well just hand it over now before the trouble starts."

His little hand is sticking out. Waiting for me to hand over the last piece of the puzzle that he is sure that I have.

And of course I do. So I hand it over.

Next time I'm hiding two pieces dude. You have to get up pretty early to fool Daddy. 4:30 seems to be early enough.

Blankets: For More Than Just Keeping Warm...or So It Would Seem!

2009-08-11T20:57:00.005-04:00

My son is crafty. My son is convincing. And my son is very, very smart.

While spending time in the kitchen recently, I hear a sweet little voice from upstairs saying, "Daddy!! Come help me!".

"What?"

"I need your help?"

"With what?"

"Things!"

"What kind of things?"

"Important things!"

"How important?"

"Very important things! Now - will will you please come and help me?"

Sigh...."of course."

At this point - I start to climb the stairs to go see what's up.

And what was up?

A prank is what was up! Pretty good one too actually!

As I'm halfway up the stairs - a big fuzzy blanket comes flying down the stairs....and traps me!

"Haaaaa haaaaa Daddy!!! You're doomed! You are stuck under my magic blanket!"

Somethings to ponder here:

The "Ha ha" part. Hmmmm.....ok - it was pretty funny.

The "doomed" part. Geeeez little man....get over yourself. It was a blanket - and I lived to type about it. Doomed I certainly was not!

The "my magic blanket" part. The blanket may very well be magical indeed. I discovered this fabled blanket in a hotel room...and it magically left with me upon checkout. So....maybe he's on to something? Maybe the blanket is magical? But...it's my damn magic blanket. I borrowed it...a long time ago - way before I met my son. So the blanket is mine little dude!

Upon escaping from the "magic blanket" - I proceeded to take it with me upstairs....and then toss it over Nicholas - and proceeded to tickle him until he was screaming with laughter. Oh...and I said he was doomed too! :)

One day I need to re-tell the story of the little boy who cried wolf to my son. I may not be so gullible the next time he needs "help". He's always got a scam brewing it would seem....wonder where he picked up that trait?

Likely Mommy. :)

Dead artists charge too much for thier stuff!

2009-07-24T19:18:00.006-04:00

How do I explain to my son about the concept of money - and the fact that I don't have several million just lying around? Ok - maybe I do have a million or so just kicking around....you guys have been great clicking the Google ads on my blog.

My son has a fixation. A potentially expensive one.

At the age of 7 - he has decided that Vincent Van Gogh is (was?) a righteous dude - and that Daddy really should get out there and buy an original work of art. When I was 7 - I had stuff up on the walls of my room. I don't remember what any of that crap was...but I do know I did not have any Van Gogh pictures hanging up.

My son does. Photocopies pictures for now...originals if he gets his wish.

I blame Baby Einstein for this! It started with the videos...of which he has them all committed to memory. From that...a Van Gogh obsession started. And now I'm expected to just "go out and buy a Van Gogh picture - a real one!"....and I'm supposed to do this...."Now!!!". Um yeah dude...I'll just head out to Wal-mart and see if they have any....

My little dude sure does have some expensive tastes! You see those Group of 7 prints on the wall little man? They're called prints....as in reproductions....fake in other words! And those suckers costs over $300 each! It'll be a garbage free day in Toronto before I sell of a kidney and go about buying a Van Gogh original! I'm not even sure one kidney would be enough.

I'll give him credit though....at least he picked a Dutch artist to get into. Ain't Dutch? Ain't Much!

Now click an ad! Nickels needs a Van Gogh! :)