Yesterday I was waiting for Jack’s bus at the regular time, but it didn’t come. So I walked up to Quinn’s bus stop and got him and we walked home. I assumed that Jack’s bus would show up at any time, but it didn’t. Quinn and I ended up in the front yard chatting with our neighbors and, again, I figured that his bus would appear at any time, but it didn’t.

Jack’s bus driver is extremely reliable and wonderful, so I wasn’t all that worried until his bus was more than a half hour late. I called the school and they said the bus had left exactly on time. So I called the bus depot and they put me on hold while they got in touch with the driver.

About two minutes later the lady came back on the line and said, “He’s at Lego Robotics.” Oh, right. The after-school program he does EVERY Monday. Dumbass. That was embarrassing.

I only have three kids. You’d think I could remember where they all are at any given time.


It was Tuesday morning. (It was actually this morning, but speaking about it in the past tense makes me feel better because it seems more over.) Alex and I were snippy at each other. We’ve both been crazy overworked this month and we’ve both been sick this month and we’re both really tired and it came together in this perfect shitstorm of annoyance today Tuesday.

We were late getting out of the house, which is a big deal, because if we are a couple of minutes late leaving our driveway, our complicated commute to get everyone to school gets longer and everyone is late and angry. (I mean, angrier. Quinn, for instance, kicked my seat for all 50 minutes of our drive this morning and ended by standing outside the school when I tried to drop him off, crying and screaming, “I hate school!”)

I had just gotten everyone in the car, when the dog streaked by on her way to freedom.

Fortunately, she ran directly at a neighbor who was walking to the bus stop. Unfortunately, he did not respond to my shout to “Please grab my dog!” and in fact did everything but shriek and jump out of the way. I think he might be afraid of dogs.

So the dog is running away, I’m chasing her, Alex is meandering after us and cursing loudly, when a stranger in a car stops to give me bad advice on how to catch her, thereby giving her precious more seconds of her already vast lead. I stopped briefly and then was intentionally rude to the guy. Sorry, random guy. It was the wrong morning to run into me.

Alex eventually caught her. I hate that dog so much. Also, I hate Tuesdays.

This tweet got a surprising amount of love.
It seems that lots of people hate Tuesday.


We have had a string of bad luck regarding house stuff lately. And, honestly, it will all turn out awesome in the long run, but it’s been a pain in the ass while it’s been happening.

Like, our fridge stopped working, so we got a new one, but a floor model. And that floor model turned out to have multiple issues, so we returned it and got a new fridge. All of which resulted in a lot of food transfer, a fair amount of food loss, and more than one looooong delivery window. Needless to say, we’ve just stopped buying food.

And we were putting in hardwood floor, but, huh, we already had hardwood floor, but the carpet was torn up by that point, so we had to refinish said floor. And if we were refinishing THAT room’s floors, then we should probably just go ahead and rip up the carpet in THIS room and refinish this floor too. Plus, now that there wasn’t carpet there anymore, we had to have the alarm company rewire the cords they had installed diagonally across the floor under the rug.

And then we decided to spend the money we were going to spend on the hardwood floors to replace the torn-up linoleum in the kitchen, and—actually that all went very smoothly.

But the process of getting everything back into the proper place has been slow and laborious, and we had a really hard time finding a rug for the hardwood floor that really tied the room together.

Oh, and whenever we turn on the oven, it smells like gas. Needless to say, we’ve stopped turning it on. We should probably hire someone to look at it. Or maybe just get rid of the oven altogether.

Long story short: My house is going to be AWESOME in about a week. But it SUPER SUCKS right now. Also, I’m tired of waiting for delivery people and workers who will arrive “between 9 and 2.”


We’ve discussed my computer issues.


This past weekend I drove 20 hours to be with friends overnight. The time it took me to get there and back is longer than the amount of time I spent there. I missed my family while I was gone. There were a lot of things I could have gotten done if I had just stayed home. I could have slept in on Sunday and maybe relaxed a little bit over the weekend. I could have taken the burden of doing all the weekend happenings off of Alex. I could have gone to a professional soccer game with my family.

Those two days could easily fit into this storyline of the hectic month I’ve been wading through. But they don’t. The friends I went to see (and a couple of whom I got to pick up on my way there) are a lifeline to me. They are a group of autism moms from all over who have kids on all parts of the spectrum and of many ages.  We are an extremely diverse group of people. We disagree on all the things people in the autism community disagree about—and we agree about things as well. Regardless, we don’t judge each other. We are a group of people who would never have ended up in a room together if not for a mutual friend who brought us together in the first place, and the common bond of children with autism.

With all of our differences, there is one thing that is the same: We know we need support. We know we need community. We know we need a village. And we’ve all tacitly and explicitly agreed to be that for each other. It is a powerful thing.

It’s also a drunken, hilarious thing, which is something else that autism moms can use more of—if not the margaritas, at least the hysterical laughter that is so strong that it makes your body hurt, but in the best of all possible ways. I got that this weekend, and I am so grateful.

Algernon also enjoyed the journey.

 It is truly exceptional that this group of us managed to form. I don’t think that things like this happen very often. There is no way to do justice to such an experience, to such a group. I wrote a comment on someone else’s blog post yesterday about something else entirely, but it applies here too: I don’t believe in miracles, but I do believe in magic.

And this group? This group of women that has become a powerful soothing force for me and for each other? This group that doesn’t ask us to forget our hardships and all the foibles of life, but instead walks hand-in-hand with us through them? This group is magic.


I wish for magic for all of you too. And to my magic, the magic that turns the dirge of everyday life and buses and forgotten appointments and waiting for the Sears guy for six hours and the calls from the school and the worry about the IEP meetings into something far softer than it used to be? Thank you.

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