The First Shopping Trip

Kindsay loves food.  When she wakes in the morning, she goes straight to breakfast.  (most of us will hit the bathroom first?) She gets her Pop Tarts, slams herself into the recliner, and devours them.  She gulps her milk down so fast you can hear it upstairs.  When she finishes with breakfast she secures her lunch for school.  Yeah, yeah, yeah, she gets dressed for school...hair thrown into a ponytail and clothes placed on her body without thought, such an inconvenience.  When she walks through the door at the end of the day she calls me.  It doesn't matter that every time she does I ignore it (if I'm close to being home) or answer it and tell her "I don't know," and hang up.  I know what she wants.  "What is for dinner?"  Boy, if I don't have that planned out...you can forget it!  I will suffer.  And if she finally gives up on me and eats something random, and I actually do cook dinner, I get an earful for not telling her.  I say, "I didn't know at the time.  I told you to just wait!"  But that's not good enough.  Why didn't I tell her?  Did I know she was going to go eat something else?  Why did I let her do that so now she is too full to eat what I've made?
Well, at least someone cares about dinner...my boys eat everything doused in ketchup so they don't care what I cook.
Kindsay finally got some money for her groceries.  She always told us that when she got her money for groceries when she turned 18 that she was going to buy her food and we were not going to be allowed to eat it.  We would not be able to have any of her food.  It would be hers and we would get in huge trouble if we touched it.  OK...uh-huh.  We know, Kindsay, we won't touch your precious food.
So she gets her money and we go to Target.  I get a shopping cart, and she comes up from behind with one of her own.  She has some big humongous blingy boots on with her maxi skirt swaying down the aisles like the food is being emptied off the shelves as we speak.  She is like a bullet train getting to her next destination.  Yikes.  I can't even tell people fast enough "excuse us" because she is blowing past them.  I stop worrying about other people.  If they can't get out of her way on their own, it's their problem.
I tell her, "I have to go grab a few things over there, so I will meet you in the food section.  Just for now pick out a couple of things you like."  I don't know that she cared if I was still in the store, she was already zoned into the food.  I asked Greg to follow her because...well, you never know.  Just follow her please.
I get my things and head back to the food section.  I can't see her but I can hear her bellowing, "Where's the _____?"  "Can I get one of these?"  "How many should I take?"  It's like she's never eaten before the way she is looking at the food.  I follow her voice to find her and Greg in an aisle.  I look in her cart.  No kidding--five 2-liters of soda, 3 bottles of sparkling cider, 1 box of hot cider packets, 2 bottles of sparkling flavored water, some mini wrapped cheeses, and a couple boxes of Pop Tarts.  Wait a minute!--I say.  I start putting things back, like 3 of the sodas, 2 bottles of sparkling cider...she starts protesting.  I look at Greg, "Really?  You couldn't say no to her?"  He tells me that what I see in the cart IS a result of him saying no.  "You should've seen the cart before I said no!"  Well, we need to say it some more because she is not going to drink through her grocery money and she's not eating like royalty out of Target (who eats baby cheeses?)  I tell Kindsay, "You have to keep your voice down, I can hear you across the store."
"That's nothing," Greg tells me, "You should've heard her earlier.  She was so loud while looking for things, a guy three aisles away hollered that what she was looking for was over by him."
Oh geez.  It takes a village, doesn't it!?
I finally get Greg to pull in the reins more, he's shooting down all her requests for this and that gourmet whatever, until she mentions seafood.  His eyes lit up and he floated behind her while she headed to the frozen food.  They pull out frozen shrimp and Greg loses his judgment completely.  I have to monitor both of them at this point.  It also didn't help that Kindsay's favorite food is steak..."Where's the steak?"  I explain that we can go to the Meat Market for steak, not Target.  That satisfies her only if I can give her an actual date that we'll go. Uh, Monday, Monday, okay?...I choose whatever day is enough away that I can get her to forget or at least hush about it for now.
So now we're up to a bag of bagels, flavored cream cheese, flavored oatmeal, frozen shrimp and fish fillets, mini powdered donuts, a few boxes of sugar cereal, some frozen pasta dishes, and mac n cheese.  I resign, but, I tell her...This is IT until next month!  You get one trip, then you have to eat it slowly or you'll be out of food in a matter of days.  I don't know that she is able to register what I say while her eyes are whirling looking at the food in such a new light.
We get home and I assign her a drawer in the pantry and a part of a shelf.  She can have those for her food.  Oh, thank goodness for sugary, salty, over-processed food--the factories are working overtime now that Kindsay has grocery money!  Manufacturers are partying hard--Kellogg's is treating their employees to a cruise...General Mills just wrote bonus checks to their employees, Kraft's processing plant just pushed the conveyer belt speed to "Kindsay's here!"  A new chapter in our lives.  And this one is going to be long.

Let's Sum Up 2013, Shall We?

It was a blur...that's all I have.  Probably the most difficult year as a teacher.  I am ready to do something else.  Teaching kids with special needs all day and then coming home to it has finally begun to deeply wear on me...meaning, I'm having to dye my hair more, exercise, and yet eat more junk food just to comfort myself.  If you think I'm joking--well, if you could ask anyone that has come into my classroom you will be told the same, "Whatever diet I was on went out the window by period 2."  Truth.
It's also been a nightmare with my youngest son.  He's in sixth grade and all the sudden failing all his subjects. How he went from honor roll to an SST (Student Study Team) is beyond my understanding.  On top of that, I had my mom watch him one day and she watched Insidious while he was there...the child hasn't left my side since October.  If he's not with me, he's carrying the poor dogs everywhere he goes.
It's also been a challenge with my oldest son becoming more like a teenager.  His love for me and need to snuggle with me has now become a secret since any touching by me in public is a NO-NO.  This day I have dreaded and never actually thought it would come because he is so affectionate with me.  He gives me a no signal with his hand, while with his eyes he is saying, "Later, Mom...not now!"  I wish I could shout to all his friends, "He still cuddles me all the time!!" but that would be for my own ego.
My oldest daughter has been my reprieve!  She's been doing so well, been happier and more eager to come home to visit...sigh.
Kindsay, well....she's Kindsay, isn't she?  Not much will change I'm afraid.  And yet, we have had a lot of fun with her lately.  We played Pictionary (Disney version) a few nights ago and she kicked all our butts.  I couldn't let her pick the picture for her to draw because we all guessed "princess"...of course that's what she'd pick, but when it was her turn to guess she was on fire!  We need those moments with her to realize she's got so much going on inside--it IS there...it's getting out that is the real challenge.
Unfortunately, her doctor, as you've read, has wanted to "cure" her by cutting back all her meds.  Are we suffering yet?  Kinda...she's been very hyper.  She blurts oddities all day.  I'm called a "cuckoo head" about fifteen times a day, and she doesn't hold back on anyone else.  She also repeats the dogs' names all day..."Lily, Pee Wee, Lily, Pee Wee, Lily, Pee Wee..." ....once she did it for fifteen minutes straight.  The dogs at first thought they were getting something out of it.  Now their ears don't even perk up.  She better hope she never falls into a well.  Those dogs will NOT come running.
As far as her love life goes...she is "dating" a boy in her class.  She tells us, "E*** is dating me and another girl.  Yeah, he wants to date us both."  When she says 'date' she doesn't mean going out.  She doesn't go out, so how does that work when the only time the boy sees either girl is at school?  My son asks, "How does he date both of you at school?"  Kindsay said very seriously, "I have NO idea."  Love life: right where we want it.  It's weird to think that in ten months we'll be filing for conservator-ship for her so we'll have rights when she's an adult.  Sometimes I think it'll be hard to convince a judge, but then when I tried to tell her the truth about Santa, she fired up on me in his defense.  I'll tell the judge, "Ask about Santa."  If that doesn't work I'll have my family come vouch for me.  For Christmas Eve I gave each child a new set of jammies.  I bought her footie pajamas in leopard print with a cat face that sat on top of each foot.  She's 5'8"...no small duck, so this was a large jammie, (XL actually)...they opened them up at my mom's with all the family sitting around.  When she pulled it out she was so happy...anything that makes her feel like an infant is a great gift, so footie jammies nailed it.  I told her to go try them on and come show us.  Seconds later, and I mean seconds, she came out and stood before us.  Aaaaahhh, could be heard around the room, and then...wait...what?  My sister said, "Why does the neck part look like it's choking her?"  I looked down at her feet and the cat faces were on top like they should be.  and yet, the neck did look high.  "Turn around Kindsay."  Sure enough, there was the zipper up her back.  Kindsay, I say, how on earth did you get those on backwards?  I mean, that zipper went from her shin to neck.  She had twisted the feet around so the cats were on top, but the neck was high on her because it was supposed to be on the back.  OK all...I say...when I apply for conservator-ship, you come as my witnesses--she put her jammies on backwards.  We still have no idea how she zipped that mother up.
As far as my husband and I go...we survived another year.  I never wish the time to go by.  I never say, "I can't wait until they are grown!"  I know it will be here very soon...the Legos will be picked up and put away finally, the sound of boys wrestling and throwing couch pillows will be gone, the tees and jeans will no longer need daily washing...although I will still be hearing "Lily, Pee Wee, Lily, Pee Wee, Lily, Pee Wee....Mom--you're a cuckoo-head!"
Ah, that I am.