Author: autisminourhouse

I’m torn. It’s that time of year again…the holidays. This time comes with a certain amount apprehension and anxiety every year. This year, I want to be with my little family, eat our turkey and the trimmings. I want to relax and enjoy. But, here’s the rub. Stocky is back in the hospital, more than likely going to a rehab facility, and
I feel like I need to hug his neck. I need to hug my Teda. I was feeling homesick for them before this, but now, I’m heartsick too. I’m sure that Stocky will pull through this with flying colors, but I have this need to lay eyes on my family. See, Teda and Stocky are home. They are unconditional love. They are my Teda and Stocky.

So, I’m off the book. I need some space. Here are five reasons why:

1.) I began judging my own happiness based in others posts about how blissful their lives are.

2.) I bean to feel like a phony. It’s not to say I need to air my dirty laundry, but only posting what cute things my fantastic kids and wonderful husband have done lately isn’t authentic. Yes, they are fantastic, but always? No. It gives a sense of faux bliss. Am I happy? Yes, most of the time.

3.). I spend WAY TOO much time checking out what clever things people post, what memes and e cards are circulating and too little time focusing on what matters most.

4.). I found that I was/am expecting people who I’ve not seen in ages or maybe have never seen to validate me.

5.) I need to take the time to nurture the real, present relationships in my life. I need to find a way to be uplifted not by people who don’t really know me, but by those in a position to really do so.

So, will I be back? Probably. My goal here is to reduce my need to be liked. Literally and figuratively. In the mean time, I hope you will shoot me an old fashioned email at kristibell01@yahoo.com

See ya around friends.

Xoxoxo k

1.) forget to pee before laying down. This is a sure sign that you will wake up at 12, 1 and finally get up at 3 am. It’s like the old dr. pepper slogan 10, 2 and 4, but with a bladder.

2.) watch the beginning of election returns with your anxious children. Because, when you wake up as afore mentioned, you will be inclined to check your phone to see if “you” won.

3.) comment on yahoo news stories about afore mentioned election. When you pee at 12, 1 and 3 am, it’s not your best brain working.

4.) comment on Facebook friends posts about the election (unless you have the same political leanings). See number 3.

5.) post on your own Facebook wall regarding the election. See numbers 3 and 4.

6.) send emails to teachers about all the things you thought about between 12 and 1, 1 and 2, and 2 and 3 am. Again, brain not functioning at its best.

7.) google. Period.

8.) see number seven, woman. Get off the Internet. Surely, do NOT google symptoms. This will NOT aid in good sleep for the next night!

9.) blog? Probably not. But here I am anyway. Rambling.

Hugs, k

I should put “NT” in quotes. What is “typical.” Cheech is anything but. He’s funny, smart, got lashes that will melt your heart, a genuine smile that can do the same, he’s enthusiastic about all that he does and countless other wonderful qualities. He’s loud. Not just a little…he lives for bacon, he loves his brother with such gusto. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. He hugs him first when he’s released from school for the day. In short, he’s awesome. I know this. It’s a fact. Not pridfullnes on this mamas part ( okay maybe a little).

It is still hard to hear all the wonderful things a teacher might have to say about him (while big brother who you may or may not have taught also) is standing right there with out so much as a “hey Joe.” It’s another clear indication of how life might be easier for Chet. People like him. He’s all the wonderful things stated above and so many more.

He is funny. Did I say that one besides in my title? I have to share the theory he had about where oil comes from ( he knows its a fossil fuel, he knows what fossils are.). So, I overheard this on the way to school the other day : C-“I have a theory (yes he used that word) about where oil comes from.” J- “oh yeah, where?” C- “the butt hair of a t-Rex.” Much, loud giggling ensues. Chorus of. “Butt hair-butt hair-butt hair!!!” More giggles (about 3 side-splitting minutes worth). Then a sigh of content from the boy. He’d succeeded in saying a bad word, but making mama laugh so he wouldn’t be punished. That, my friends is Cheech in a nut shell.

Some days it just doesn’t pay. I must learn to let go of the worry and anxiety. I don’t care (too much) if people don’t like me. I’ve never been one to need lots of friends; I’m good with the few good ones I’ve got. I never went to lots of parties, got invited lots of places, had boat loads of girlfriends. I’m good with that. I need to let the eldest be okay with that as well. We are both the kind of people that you either like (and get) us or you don’t. There is no real in between. If you love us, watch out! We wear our hearts and worries on our sleeves, we are fiercely loyal, and often speak before we think. But, if you don’t love us, that’s okay too. We don’t mind, really…