March 27th, 2008 | 14 Comments »

“I found this, Mom”

“What did you find, Ass Burger Boy?”

“This.”

“I can’t see it, it’s dark. NAME the object you are

holding in your hand.”

(frustrated) “THIS!” I can imagine him pointing to

the object in the dark.

This scenario also repeats itself when I’m driving, or doing something else

that needs full visual attention.

And my eyesight ain’t as sharp as it used to be.

When I can’t discern the object, he will edge closer

and closer to show me, rather than name the thing.

It drives me cah-ray-zee.

Not a long drive these days, I might add.

This is just one quirk I figure is attributable to Asperger’s Syndrome.

Did any of you watch Dawson’s Creek?

The boy is a dead ringer for Dawson.

Out of his mouth come the most bizarre and inappropriate things. He likes to shock people.

The other day, he asked me (a la boxers or briefs)

“Zucchini or cucumber?”

See, your mom isn’t someone you’re supposed to feel

comfortable asking that to.

He doesn’t hear my explanation of this concept (for what?…the zillionth time?)

He is doubled over with laughter.

Smartarse. Thinks he’s Tom Green.

January 8th, 2008 | 37 Comments »

I confess I have been fiddling with my header. I got some design advice from Ree and I fear I may have taken it to excess. Hardly any surprise since I’m an excessive person. What? You’re surprised? Get away with your bad self. Feel free to offer your preferences.

On the day to day real life level, Ass Burger Boy has started a new semester at community college. He described asking an instructor about a “weird” kid in his class. It seems ABB made the circling motion with his hand (typically used to describe someone who is cah-ray-zee). The instructor said the “weird” kid had Asperger’s Syndrome. ABB saw the sadness in my eyes when I said: “I would think that you would have compassion instead of labelling this kid as “other”. He got to thinking about this, and has made an effort to befriend him. School is about learning more than academics.

My batteries mutinied when I tried to take a picture of the dark stains still visibile in the flooring. The story is that the former owner of the mansion bled out there, and he was found with his dogs several days later. The neighbours told me that they researched the place extensively when they first moved in, but I couldn’t find anything, except the reference to the rope factory that the former owner supposedly ran.

I will admit that I felt “visitors” here when I first moved in, but I told them politely to buzz off.

mullioned window

The darker spot in front of the basket is the culprit. This is in the front third of the living room. On the other side of the fireplace is an identical sized wall, with matching mullioned window. This would be where I am now. It’s quite a distance from the antique television, which would explain why I have it turned up so loud. Big room.

To get an idea of the size of this room, this next image was shot from behind my desk. The disconcerting white thing in the foreground is the chair I sit in while on the computer.

from behind my desk chair

I realize I haven’t done much to decorate the place yet, but I’m frugal. The dark sofa and chair? Still in good condition. Not too sure I want to cover them. Frugal ::cough::cheap::cough:: This side of the sofa is another of those glass panelled pocket doors. The fireplace hearth has issues, but they will be addressed eventually. Or not.

For anyone who wondered if my place was always clean, just look at the box of stuff waiting to be burned, parked by the chair near the fireplace. Now there are two. It’s a lot of area to clean. I not only have to vacuum the floors, but the walls as well. I was agonizing over asking Santa for a digital SLR or a roomba, but Santa is also frugal. And overdrawn at the bank.

I hope you have enjoyed your virtual tour of casa witchypoo. It has been my pleasure being your hostess. If the dust bothers you, I’ll show you my 1973 “green machine” Electrolux. I love that vacuum cleaner, but I wish it had a roomba sibling.

Shameless self-promotion: Show me some freaking love. Go on, vote. You know you wanna. You have to register first, but you will make me very happy. Check your junk mail folder for the registration confirmation. Oh, and if it says voting is closed? It is for 2007, but this award is for 2008.

My site was nominated for Freakiest Blogger!

January 5th, 2008 | 26 Comments »

Okay, show of hands, please. Raise your hand if you didn’t realize that I called my beloved younger son Ass Burger Boy as a play on words?

Because he has, you know, Asperger’s Syndrome. Say it out loud. You know it sounds like Ass Burger. I confess I was gobsmacked by the name when he was diagnosed. I immediately requested the spelling.

I bring this up because Marie confessed to not getting it for an entire month of reading my site. She wasn’t alone. Poppy said in my comments:

It took me a loooong while to find out why you call your son ABB. My cousin was standing over my shoulder, reading your blog and then she burst out laughing. I asked her why was she laughing so hard and she made me read Asperger and ABB shortly after. Now I feel slow, because it took a couple of tries for it to sink in.

This called for some action, and I have risen to the challenge. I have edited my About page to explain. Oh, what other crises can I avert?

Shameless self-promotion: Show me some freaking love. Go on, vote. You know you wanna. You have to register first, but you will make me very happy. Check your junk mail folder for the registration confirmation. Oh, and if it says voting is closed? It is for 2007, but this award is for 2008.

My site was nominated for Freakiest Blogger!

December 20th, 2007 | 12 Comments »

My younger son, Ass Burger Boy, has made it his mission early in life to find out who he really is. I’m not sure if this is peculiar to him or to Asperger’s Syndrome.

His journey has taken some interesting turns, to say the least.

When he was about nine years old, he was fascinated with black people.

He talked black, he walked black. He did what he could to gather information. He wanted to know about black people on a personal level. This, of course, means engaging in conversation. His conversation skills are noteworthy in that he is articulate, but needs polish.

Every black person he saw, he struck up a conversation with, beginning with the ice-breaker: “I see that you are black.” What? What does a person answer to that? “Good eye, Ass Burger Boy.”????

We live in an area where there is some racial tension. I’m sad about this, but it is a fact of life here. I felt it necessary to advise him that some people might interpret his opening gambit as round one of a fight.

He takes everything literally.

ABB was at my mom’s when I brought a lovely new acquaintance with me for lunch.

ABB, always the social butterfly who Must.Dominate.Every.Freaking.Conversation. gives his dazzling conversation skills his new opening: “I see that you are not black.”

Except that she was.

I lost a potential friend that day because I didn’t have the chops to explain how this whole situation came about.

A few years after that, he became a Back Street Boy. Wore white all the time. Sang all the songs. Attended his prom dressed in white.

Now he thinks he’s Greek. That might be funny if it weren’t true. He switched to the Greek Orthodox Church, serves on the altar, is learning the language, and dreams of living on the Greek Islands.

My wish is that he will discover that who he is can be just fine, without assuming an identity. So far, he’s not buying it.

Whoever said that children don’t come with a manual was so not kidding.

Shameless self-promotion: Show me some freaking love. Go on, vote. You know you wanna. You have to register first, but you will make me very happy. Check your junk mail folder for the registration confirmation. Oh, and if it says voting is closed? It is for 2007, but this award is for 2008.

My site was nominated for Freakiest Blogger!