Linking with Jen this Sunday afternoon and maybe some day I’ll actually post on a Friday like the big kids do.

Highlights from Happy House this week:

1
MONDAY.

Choked on neverending phlegm and full throttle barfed into kitchen sink, unnoticed by my people.
All three children went down for a nap at the same time, fell asleep at the same time, and stayed asleep for an hour. Never have I ever.
Got a wild hair and vacuumed the stairs. Super Mom!
The rest doesn’t matter, cause I vacuumed stairs. Supah Mawm.

2.
TUESDAY

Craig and I met with Emmett’s doctor for his official diagnosis: Autism. Hearing it so officially drew out of me a really bizarre reaction where I ugly cried and every time I tried to talk myself out of it, my voice got higher and higher like Rachel from the TV Show Friends, and I cried worse.

Doctor’s appointment cashed-in all of our mental stores for the day, so I don’t remember much other than:
Lexington races Craig in a dinner eating contest and barfs it back up.

One of Craig’s long days: does not return til late nightfall.
Clean house, now a shambles, I attempt to do dishes as boys desecrate a box of cereal in the foyer, dragging a wealth of crumbs up the Monday vacuumed stairs.
While revacuuming stairs, Collin locks himself into bathroom.
I make world’s worst dinner (cooked in undrained bacon grease. …O brain, where art thou?)
World’s worst dinner sends me to the bathroom
Collin navigates a stool to the counter, mounts counter, plays with lit candles I couldn’t afford the minimal CO2 expression to blow out lest I not make it to the bathroom.
Lexington locks himself out of bathroom and throws key under door.

Nope.

Ain’t no mountain high enough.

No coffee.
My mom saves me from death by no caffeine. Takes Lexington and Mountain Man to her house for the afternoon.
I decide between showering or a clean kitchen for a really, really eeemportant IN HOME meeting with Emmett’s therapists and public school peoples:

Bathe thyself.

I have never seen so much paperwork.
I realize I’m going through a very strange, very contradictory, very lonely emotional grieving period, and that parents of Autism need support too.
Blog it out, girl. You betcha that post is on ‘er way.

We puzzle together over how difficult it is to find a toy which says a letter of the alphabet slowly, and doesn’t follow up with a vomitage of “A …as in Apple, sounds like AH'”.

Because what 3 year old is ever going to wait and listen to that whole sentence before pressing the button again?

“A, as in app–”
“A, as in app–”
“A, as in –”
“A, as i–”
“A–”
“A–”