Tell Me Something I Don't Know...

We signed Donovan up for "Summer Camp" at Waldorf from today thru the beginning of August.  As one of his big To Do's is to socialize more, this seemed like a good opportunity for him to hang out and playplayplay with some kids he already knows at a place where he's comfortable.  The teachers for the summer are all new but I was very happy when Mike told me, upon picking Donny up at the end of the day, Miss Abigail described him as "a great big ball of fun."  The only drawback I can see so far is that the kids take an actual nap during the day, thus negating any benefits we the parents would glean from their full day of running around outside.  The kid went to bed at 8 tonight but he sure as hell did'nt get to sleep until about 10:00.  At least he was happy--we could hear him singing all the way downstairs, even without the monitor on.

"I Want It To Say 'Happy Father's Day, Pop, From Donovan'"

What happened to all the N's?  We had to jimmy some together out of our stash of 1's.

The End is Nigh

 When I went to pick up Donovan at school today I ran into one of the other mothers who warned me that Donny was sporting a cupcake icing moustache.  What she did'nt warn me was that it was blue:

 I can only imagine the recipe for the icing went something like this: 1cup butter, 4 cups confectioners sugar, 2 diesel truck loads of blue food coloring. 

We went to kill some time at the playground and at first I did'nt think it was going to go well.  Actual quote: "I don't want to play with any kids.  I want to play with ZERO KIDS."  I actually played hardball and told him he could'nt wear his Bad Guy ring (see photo above) if he was'nt going to be brave and play.    That got him started and, luckily, there were some older kids there that took him under their wing and played a strange game of catch with two foam rubber dice.  That was good to see. 

I should mention that, when I asked Donovan what made the cartoon character on his ring a Bad Guy, he explained, "He's bad because he doesnt say anything.  And he's naked."  Well, alright then.

All in all it turned out to be a nice time at the playground.  Tomorrow is the LAST DAY OF THE SCHOOL YEAR.  Yikes!

School Picnic, 2011

Somewhere To Sit

Last year, during what Pittsburghers have come to refer to as Snowpocolypse, a huge, thick sheet of ice collapsed the metal awning above our front door and smashed thru the steps below it.  I did a little surreptitious dance of joy because I'd always hated that lame excuse for a porch.  It wasn't so much of a porch as a stoop and who the hell carpets an outdoor stoop?  Imagine how happy I was when our insurance paid for the damage!

Now, after much life-circumstances-type delays, we are having a real porch built onto our house.  It will extend from the original stubby stoop length to big enough to call a porch length.  And it will be level.  Which will make our porch premium realestate in Polish Hill, where you can't set a drink on the ground without it slowly sliding downhill.

Neither Mike nor I can take any credit for the construction, which is being done by Val's Boyfriend Dave.  He just finished the actual decking portion of it and already I feel like its going to make our lives so much better.

Oh So Very...

When Mike picked Donny up at school yesterday, Donny's teacher met him at the door and was very upset.  Turns out one of the other kids, for no particular reason, scratched Donny on both sides of his face.  His teacher explained that she would have to write up an accident report and that we would receive a copy.  She also said that she washed his face off.

Once Mike got him in the car he asked Donny about it.  Donny corroborated the story and added, "...and Ms. Meyer washed my face--it was very delightful."

SO: guess the kid wasn't traumatized after all!  Whew!  And, really, the scratches aren't that bad.  It must have been a hard thing to see happen, tho--I'm sure I would have been freaked out as well.

Pee Story with Punchline

The potty training has plateaued: we send Donovan to school in his “big boy” underwear and, 9 times out of 10, there are no accidents. 10 times out of 10, however, he just does not go to the bathroom. We bring him home, put him on the toilet and, again, no satisfaction. By the end of the night he is cranky and crying and running in circles. That is until we change him into pull-ups for bed, at which point the literal floodgates open.

I’m oversharing to set up a great story: the other night was just like I described. The kid had been a right brat, screaming and crying and refusing to pee in the toilet. After about half an hour of that, Mike took him upstairs to get him ready for bed. Donny got into his pull ups as fast as he could and Mike could hear that telltale sound of pee hitting paper-product. At which point Donovan turned to Mike and said, “Don’t. Say. A. WORD.”

Is that as funny to you as it is to me? I’ve tried to tell that story about three times now and I keep having a laughing fit right where the punchline should go.

BTW: please don’t consider this a “teachable moment” for us. We KNOW putting him in pull ups at night is part of this current problem. We are waiting it out until his new therapist starts with him next week to see if she has any specific words of wisdom and we will take it from there. No sense in starting a regimen that might get nixed by the professionals.