Slurping Life

As a die in the wood pacifist, probably a retaliation towards Service life, I was careful to ensure that none of my children would ever be exposed to weapons of any shape, form or description. It was a blanket ban. I suspect, that my ‘anti war’ campaign was ineffectual. My daughters’ interests fell more into the tree climbing category of physical activity. They were who they were, regardless of my preferences.

When the boys came along, I decided to adopt the same ineffectual campaign, all the more so, since wise people told me that ‘boys would be boys.’ As it turned out pretend play wasn’t high on their preferred list of activities, with or without props of any kind. As it turned out, many quite ordinary household items were already considered lethal weapons by them, instruments of torture to be avoided at all costs.

They have their own way or working through issues and overcoming obstacles, even if the picture is ever so hazy.

Clarity comes to s[he] who waits.

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For some reason I am compelled into another pointless debate with my children.

“They're just steak fries really.”
“Mom! They're green. You can't eat green potatoes, that's bad!”
“They're green because of the parsley and Rosemary. Parsley potatoes.”
Ghastly potatoes? Dey are for Halloween?”
“Not 'ghastly,' PARSLEY!”
“Sounds like 'ghostly!” she sniggers, the kind of snigger that is infectious amongst certain juvenile people.
“They're highly nutritious, very good for you.”
“I am be eat dah nutritious foods too.” I glare at my youngest child, he who eats only 17 foods.
“Really! Well you do eat fries I suppose. Maybe you could eat a green fry? It could be your new food for the week.”
“See, I knew you were just teasing me.”
“It don't have one.”
“It don't…….it doesn't have one what dear?”
“It don't have one box.”
“Box? What kind of a box?”
“A box dat is saying dah nutritional content. I am only eat dah food wiv dah box.”
“Great. So that effectively means that you won't eat anything home-made, only over processed, store bought food!”

I pout.

He says nothing.

Everyone else sniggers.

He grins hugely.

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Thursday 13 #167 An Emergency Halloween Costume

Thirteen Things about how to make an emergency last minute Halloween Costume



All cows may have two udders

1. Take one child with arms fully extended at shoulder height.
2. Measure from wrist to wrist.
3. Buy fabric, fold in half and cut one semi circle halving the measurement in [2].

4. Fold into a quarter and make two slashes to form an X in the centre, adjust size to fit original child's head size.

5. Cut out circle from the centre and interface with similar sized off-cut of fabric and include an additional slash at the front neck for a snug fit.
6. Hem outer circle.
7. Attach neck closure and decorate as required.

8. Permit brothers to borrow poncho for pretend play.

9. Refuse to make a pair of fake horns for each boy as an accessory.
10. Refuse to make realistic udder as in 'Back in the Barnyard.'
11. Explain the difference between cows and bulls, again.
12. Refuse to make fake bull accessory.
13. Reconsider reasonableness versus rashness of the udders as a compromise.

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Wordless Special Exposure Wednesday

5 Minutes for Special Needs

Now is the time to practice, practice, practice!
9 days to wear those costumes and find all their faults.
9 days to model and role play.
9 days to practice that phrase, ‘trick or treat?’
9 days to accept that all candy is not equal.
9 days to practice coping skills for disappointments such as trading.
9 days to practice holding a torch in one hand, a bucket in the other, walking as a group, managing your costume, negotiating steps, pathways, traffic and other revelers.

Can we do this?

Yes we can!

If you enjoy caption competitions and photographs, you may wish to nip along to“DJ Kirkby” over at “Chez Aspie” and test your brain power.

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Tackle it Tuesday, try it Tuesday

Try This Tuesday

Just a wee little tackle, just in time for the holiday. Which holiday?
Why Halloween of course?

As with most things American, when this first happened to our family, I wondered what on earth was happening? But over the years I have learned not to psycho-analyze these things and instead join in the fun.

What you will need:-
Copy the text and picture from the bottom of the post, and print out two copies
Two little bags
treats that will fit inside the little bags
Embellishments and decorations to meet your little people’s needs


Now you and your offspring decide who your victims shall be. Wait until dark. Dash up to the victim’s front door, ring the bell as if the bats are on the way, drop the bag and leg it behind the nearest, largest bush to hide. Spy on your victims through the branches and watch their state of confusion. Leave safely when the coast it clear.

Is that clear?

Need any additional information or do you get it?

I got it, once I ignored the psychobabble.

It should bring a great deal of childish glee to your household and someone else’s.

Here are the sheets to copy:-

They are available from this site “here.”

So any lingering doubts, queries, questions or confusions?

Good, I’m glad it’s all perfectly clear to you.



First of all I should like to point out that this year, finally, we did manage to complete this activity.

Secondly, I would stress that on balance, I would have to admit that it involved a greater degree of hilarity and a lesser degree of angst and confusion.

How can this be?

Well they’re bigger of course.

Why would such a simple activity be anything less than delightful?

Ah, well, that’s the real question isn’t it.

One of the cardinal rules of child rearing, any child, is consistency.

If we gloss over the standard difficulties of completing anything which vaguely resembles ‘a craft,’ then there are a whole slew of illogical inconsistencies to address. It is a social skills nightmare. For instance, generally speaking, ringing people’s doorbells and running away, is a habit that we would choose to discourage in our children as responsible parents, yet for some reason, the Boo reason, this is suddenly o.k.? How bizarre is that?

Additionally, it is an additional purposeless trip in the car. Ideally we would have walked but time constraints, darkness and walking, are never a good combination mid-school week, so I had to cheat and keep some variables at bay.

Normally I drag my children with me into the store or the post office muttering, “no you can’t stay in the car, it’s illegal to leave you unsupervised.” But for this exercise one child accompanies me to Boo, the other two wait in the car, in the dark, alone and unsupervised so that they can watch the fun. How come the cardinal rule changed?

Fun. Well of course that it something that is almost impossible to explain, because as we watch the parents and children come out of their houses to collect their Boo, they have the nerve to look confused. Confused is an expression that we now recognise. Why would we wish to wantonly cause confusion to complete strangers? Why have the rules changed.

Talking of which, how come it’s suddenly ok. to commune with strangers? Who changed the rules?

If it is ok to commune with strangers, why don’t we have to use our nice words and say hello to them? Who changed the rules?

Fall out

What has been the result of this activity, overall, now that the dust has settled? Any long term effects?

Well the short term effect is that my son is now mesmerized by the ‘confused’ expression. He can mimic it exactly and copies the little boy on the doorstep, chin to chest looking at the floor with the accompaniment of ‘he looked like dis!’

The long term effect?

“Faster dan dah kids in Narnia! My mum is run like lightening!”

Bear in mind that the ‘kids in Narnia’ movie, run in slow motion.

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Best Shot Magic Marker Monday

Hosted by “Tracy” at “Mother May I,” but the photo-picture below will whizz you right there with one click.

Just call me snap happy.

red BSM Button

[Elder daughter]

How to recycle your envelopes and send a message at the same time!
She’s so diligent and tries to get off junk mailing lists, maybe this will work?

[Younger daughter]

Can’t resist a theme when I spot one!


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Mono Metamorphosis – sex education required

“I am unisex, I am unisex, I am unisex,” he chants for no particular reason that I can fathom.
“What do you mean dear?”
“I am meaning dat I am being part cat.”
“Oh yes, I remember the 'part cat.'”
He is being dah part dog.”
“Is he indeed. I wondered why he was growling. What's the er……'unisex' bit?”
“Uni is be meaning one.”
“Gosh yes, I know that too. But……….?”
“Only one part is being dog or cat, so it be 'uni.'”
“Yes true……I was just wondering…..about the…..which part……bit…….er….?”
“Dah mouth is dah sex part.”
“Really……that is a surprise.”
“Yes coz his dog mouth eats bones only bones, uni.”
“Ah, I see….and?”
“My mouth, my cat part only eats dah goldfish.”
“Um…….I fink I am have dah wrong word.”
“Oh good. I mean…..really?”
“I am not mean ‘sex’ I am mean ‘species’!”
“Wow, easy to get those two muddled.”
“I am uni-species!”
“But if you’re part cat and part human wouldn’t that be duo?”
“Bye, bye, bye, bye…….” shrieks as he runs away before he pops back to clarify, head around the corner, “I am bi-species……dats what I am?”

He grins hugely before disappearing just like a Cheshire cat.

I sometimes wonder?

My child is seemingly “monophagous” upon Goldfish crackers.

I should take him over here:-


“Andrea” over at “Andrea’s Buzzing About:”

[I got it right in the end! What a pain in the colon!]

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Slurping Life

Opinions differ but there is a common misconception that autistic people do not enjoy a sense of humour, or alternatively that their sense of humour is hybrid. Personally, I think it’s a little more complicated than that. Slapstick is easy. Words and their nuances can be a little more tricky.






They might not be the words I would have chosen but I certainly recognize the feeling of debilitating exhaustion, well spent.
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I apologise in advance for this one. There is something about the wiring of a speech delay and they way they think that just cracks me up.




Cheers dears

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Mass Exodus

I spend an inordinate amount of time creating bite sized, bone-free fish balls. They contain attractive flecks of delicate chives, a high percentage of caramelized onions and the smoothest consistency that the Magimix could manage. I decide to play fair and tell them that they are indeed made of fish. The victims look at them with an air of despair.

“I think I'm gonna be a vegetarian startin……right now.”
“No….I am bein dah vegetarian in dis family,” he says sputtering cracker crumbs, exempt from this particular experiment.
“But you like fish fingers.”
Sticks mom, they're called fish sticks out here.”
“Sticks, fingers, balls, they're all the same. You like them. These are just round sticks without the crumbs.”
“Dah crumbs I like. Dah fish is……..?”
“Diabolical,” adds his little brother with glee and not a jot of sympathy.
“Just think of it as brain food. I can't think why you don't love fish. I love fish. All fish, any fish. I think I'd drop down dead if I couldn't eat fish.”
They both look at me awaiting my downfall with pleasant anticipation. They wait silently. “Just give them a try. Be brave. It's good to try new things, new food, you never know you might just like them.” I fizzle out as my script is over-used and tatty at the edges.
“I wan……can I have…….is…..dere any ketchup?”
I stomp off to the fridge in defeat. He empties half a bottle of sauce over one fish ball and sniffs.
“We're going to have fish once a week, at least, from now on.”
“It is being dah new rule?”
“Er…yes…..good point. The new rule is 'fish on Friday.'”

I beam, smug. We shall join the ranks of the majority at last, by hook or by crook.

“Dat's good!” he cooes as he stands, turns on his heel and wanders off with his sister close behind him, “hey, hang on a minute you two. Just where do you think you are going?”
“You said Friday Mom, today's Thursday,” she mutters over her shoulder. I pout at the one remaining child left behind, still munching his way through several tonnes of Goldfish Crackers, “I am love,” he beams.
“Yes…….I know you love Goldfish dear.”
“I am have a huge brain.”
“I am have fish on Friday. I am have fish every day. I am love my new food.”

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