Single Mom Discovers New ‘Strongest Substance Known to Man’.

 

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Up until today, according to Our Lord God The Google and Michio Kaku, the strongest substance known to man was something called Graphene. In the description is says

“Think of like Saran Wrap made out of one-molecule-thick carbon atoms.  That graphene is so strong in principle you can take an elephant, put the elephant on a pencil, suspend the pencil on graphene and graphene will not break.  That is how strong it is.  It is the strongest material known to science at the present time.”

Now I’m not a woman of science. Nor am I one to blow my own trumpet in particular, however, I think on this occasion I would be excused a moment or two in the limelight. And I think the scientific community would excuse my temporary big headedness when I declare, with confidence, that Graphene bloody well isn’t the strongest substance known to man. It is, in fact, what ever the hell is on the inside of the three-week old bowl that I found in my son’s bedroom today. The ‘what ever the hell it is’ that he ( of course) denied all knowledge of.

<Cue innocent and mildly surprised look from tween>

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#ScientificFact

As well as it’s apparent strength, one has to assume that there is some kind of quantum physics / molecular fusion that has  gone on because quite frankly that is the only explanation to how, what used to be #Kellogs #CrunchyNutCornflakes, could have become quite so well attatched to my porcelain.

We would have attempted the elephant experiment as described by Google however, in the absence of an elephant, we only had Fetish-Dog and she refused to co-operate. She also chewed up most of the pencils we own, many weeks ago. Instead, we devised our own tests. Despite putting it through many process in the ‘Anna J Domestic Laboratory’, including sand blasting, acid erosion, small nucleur bomb, hammer and chisel, swearing at it very loudly etc. I have been unable to break it down either physically or emotionally. Sadly, it appears to have had the reverse effect on me and I’ve now reached Pinot Grigio point of desperation.

I’m praying there will be no regeneration or breeding from what ever it is during the night, but in all honesty, things aren’t looking great. Next stop is NASA Research Dept … followed by Argos. To buy some new bowls.

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First World Problems:Long Hair

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The reality of having long hair is a bit like sex and the movies. On film it’s great. Romantic. Dramatic. Perfect. And frequently accompanied with a great backing track. The reality is somewhat different; usually involving some awkwardness, probably a bit of cramp, general emotional disappointment and a backing track of noises that we most definitely didn’t hear coming out of Tom Cruise and Kelly McGillis, in that scene in Top Gun. In fact, that film has a lot to answer for regarding romance / my expectations after it heavily influenced my vulnerable and innocent young mind. (Family and friends can leave the room at this point if you are unable to stop sniggering).

Anyhow, I digress. Hair. I was brought up on Timotei adverts and White Snake videos. It set the bar high. Think Rapunzel tresses, strolls through golden fields of corn on sunny days; a perfectly behaved grey horse, casually wandering along beside me as I smiled and laughed at nothing, whilst flicking my super long locks every thirty seconds without so much as a hint of whiplash.

So, as I ran to the bathroom in the early hours of last night for an emergency wee (caused by new fitness fad of drinking heaps of water … not by tired old bladder moving into the realms of night-time incontinence) with not only a set of headphones tangled up in the birds nest but also the laptop still attached too, it was a far cry from those heady days of childish daydreams. Apparently going to sleep listening to music when wearing headgear that also has a mouth-piece arm, is reserved only for the brave and the foolish.

<Queue Village Idiot’ess stage left>

A wave of horror swept through me as I attempted to remove said attire and found that I couldn’t. Despite numerous firms tugs and a prayer sent up to the God of Ablutions, there was no way my toilet necessities were going to wait. It was either cut the hair, snap the headphone set or…. carry half the electrical content of my house to the loo with me.  I chose the latter. I’m happy to report that twenty minutes and a near panic attack  later, I managed to release myself. To celebrate my newly found freedom, I jumped back into the safety of my bed and deftly trapped my hair under my own armpit and almost ripped my head from my  shoulders.

Long hair comes with responsibilities that, in all honesty, I’m  not sure I’m mature enough for yet. As it’s grown, so have the hurdles.  Meal times – attempting to serve / eat without consuming some keratin-spaghetti. Accidentally dunking it into gravy or whatever saucy pleasure is on offer. Clearing out the plug hole in the bath has become a task that requires courageous and sturdy excavating skills, and don’t even get me started on what it’s like trying to handle a windy day whilst wearing lip-gloss.

Yes, I know there are such things as hair bobbles, but I’m fairly certain my hair trained with Houdini. And besides, I am at heart, a hopeless romantic and I’m sure that if I hold out long enough, one day I will catch the wind in the right direction and get my Timotei moment.

 

 

I’m Declaring Today, International PJ Day

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Today is officially a PJ Day, and, I’m officially making it international so it doesn’t matter where you are in the world, I’ve gotcha back.
Following The Captain’s Nothing Day, yesterday, unsurprisingly, I now need to recharge. I think I’m a fairly typical female when I say that I really don’t function well on not enough sleep and too much daily demand. What usually starts out as a ‘bit of a low mood’ when I wake, speedily runs towards the grand finishing line of ‘Holy mother of all the gods, the sky has fallen down on my life and everything is such a mess’.
If I don’t listen to my body and my energy levels,by tea time I’m entering myself into every ‘worst mother /ugliest woman/ terrrible’est ( yes I made that word up) friend competition’ that I can find; secure in the knowledge that I absolutely will win them all. These days are known in the (female) trade as Fat & Ugly Days, and as I’ve already mentioned, generally pop up when we are tired, or due on (when we aren’t living through a ‘Clumsy Day’ or ‘I’m Just Gonna Cry and Eat Chocolate Day’).
So for today, I’m taking a breather. The kids will have to survive on pasta. The clothes washing will have to wait so we may be wearing dressing gowns and flip-flops tomorrow. The dishes will have to wait, and yes I’m prepared for the fact that we could realistically end up eating out of Tupperware pots and drinking from a measuring jug by this afternoon. And in the absence of having a special someone to hand me a glass of wine and tell me that everything is going to be okay, I shall probably pour myself one; and everything will be okay.

Happy International PJ Day people.

 

Disclaimer: This post does not restrict me to only one PJ Day a year

Autistic Melt Downs & Poo In Bushes.

A day of rest(ish) today so The Captain can defrag and reset his brain; and his momma can avoid a nervous breakdown. In the absence of drinking wine ( me, not him. Obvs. I’ve just gone off it.) I’m having to resort to that horrible thing called ‘Sensible Behaviour and Planning Ahead’.

Yesterday he had a full on day at a Home-Ed gathering. Managed to fleece *cough* I mean sell, some more home made bracelets to his friends (I don’t know how he does it …. He is the Del Trotter of the autistic world! Sadly whilst he may of almost made his first million, he also spent his first million. On ‘sweetie cones’. From the stall across the way. Who, if my maths is correct, should be off purchasing their first Rolls Royce this morning. Paying for it all in (The Captains) 20 pence pieces. However, concerns about rotten teeth, obesity and a future life of ‘general adult ill health for my kids’ aside, it was a good day.

He made his own bracelets to sell on his stall. Set up and managed his own little pitch. Worked the cash box ( sneaky maths practice). And only had a melt down and screamed at his brother to ‘Fuck Off!!’, at the top of his voice, in front of everyone, a couple of times. The first of those situations was diffused when one of his friends fell in some poo in the bushes. The other was dealt with in his usual way – he sat with a crochet blanket over his head. 

Parents of autistic kids will know exactly what I’m describing. When your child needs to cut out some of the ‘white noise’ being taken in by the recievers. Blankets over heads ( or hoods). Ear defenders over ears. It works. If you let them get on with it.

I’ve all but given up trying to explain to onlookers. And as he gets older, there will be more of those. Onlookers. What is cute and quirky on a young child ( to the untrained eye), becomes weird, when its an adult doing it. The Captain is 13. And would easily pass for 16 physically. His time left in that childhood zone is diminishing. Quickly.

It frightens me when I think about how he will cope in the adult world. And how the adult world will cope with him. But for now…. We just focus on the days.  Yesterday was a good day. 

And today, God-Willing, will be too.
💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

The Joys of Parenting Aspergers. (cont.) (for’freakin’ever)

So, The Captain ( recently retitled as Captain Fad) has commenced his latest entrepreneurial project. The last one was loom band bracelets and even I have to admit that he did incredibly well selling  ( *cough* fleecing ) to many of his friends. He works on the commonly voiced business practice in #DragonsDen that its better to have a lot of a little and thus made his first step towards being a millionaire at 10p a go. All on the back of a fashion that peaked about 2 years ago (peaked= all the parents got sick of hoovering the little fuckers up 24/7). 
Not bad at all! 

And so onwards with the next step towards financial freedom he goes.

‘The project has been on the go for approximately 24 hours excluding the fortnight he spent prior, planning it all. Planning, in the world of #Aspergers consists mainly of walking into your mothers bedroom at random / intermittent/ stupid o’clock early hours of the morning ( think 12:30am onwards at least every 90 minutes) to declare that you have “…. Just a few more quick questions…” or to excitedly shove an ipad in said mothers face whilst exclaiming “… I have found THE perfect thing and we HAVE to order it NOW!”
There is no off-switch with an Aspergers Brain once they have found their ( current) ‘special thing’. And as a parent there is a fine balance between supporting and encouraging, whilst also teaching and reminding them about the necessary requirements / boundaries in real, every day life ( i.e the need for us mere mortals to sleeeeeeeep).
It was with joyous relief that I handed the parcels from #Amazon over to The Captain yesterday morning so he could finally commence, on a practical basis,  this new and wonderous project. There was much excitement as he tipped the contents out onto the kitchen table and a sea of colours drowned the vintage paris grey wood beneath. Chatter and banter began as he vocally explored the dream of how he would spend or reinvest all the wads of cash that fate was bringing in his direction….. Oh how we all laughed and smiled with glee.
Then he accidently dropped some of the afore mentioned sea of colour onto the floor …
After picking half of it up, he announced that ‘its all just a bit too much and I need to go for a lay down’…  And promptly left us minions running his sweatshop for him whilst he CEO’d from the comfort ( and darkeness) of his executive boudoir!! 

He’s promised to give the business a 12 hour solid shift today … That was at 10am this morning and its now nearly lunch … There has already been many, many, MANY  “I’ll be down in 10 minutes” … 

I’m considering leaving a trail of #Dorritos from his bedroom to the kitchen but I suspect Fetish-Dog would get to them first and make herself ill, and then I’d have a different kind of Sea of Many Colours to deal with!
It’s not easy being a momma to an Entrepreneurial, Dorrito Loving, Fetish-Dog Owning Teen with Aspergers … But there is rarely a dull moment. Rarely does a day pass without a story thats worthy of being shared: and never is there a day when I am not amazed by the incredible way his brain functions. Wouldn’t have him any other way. 💓💓💓💓