I Predict Asshole

17 Feb

This past fall we took in an adorably fuzzy little monster, my niece could no longer care for. The puppy’s age and breed are still undetermined, aside from the guess of the vet. So far, we have had her for nearly five months. In that time we have had her spayed, house trained and kennel trained. Also, in that time she has weaselled her way into everyone’s hearts. Everyone she meets falls in love with her, oh but to know the real her. As wonderful as she is, and how amazing she is with our boys, and can stand up to our other, very dominant, female dog; she is a terror to be had. Or in other words, she is the devil. A most adorably, sweet She-Devil. She rivals Stephen King’s Thing of Terror. Sorry Stephen, my puppy is the real terror. She chews up shoes and toys, finds ways to dig in the garbage, and nip at your legs to get your attention. When she gets in trouble she will sometimes talk back.

Today I took a mouth swab to find out her breed. Once we get the DNA results back, we will know her breed, and I predict it will be asshole.


your charming Canadian housewife


TDSB School Asked My Austic Student Not to Attend Graduation

24 Jun

This discrimination makes me very sad for the little girl and her family. We are supposed to be teaching our children not to discriminate. These people are creating a bad example.

Heart Learning Centre & CampZone

14704200941_0002188237_zI woke up this morning to the word ‘freedom’ in my mind. How wonderful I thought this is a day to project freedom. I was asked by Priya’s dad (not her real name) if I could take care of her this morning and drop her to school at 10:30am rather than regular time at 8:40am. Priya my autistic student that attends my after school program and is absolutely beautiful. Hmmm- That’s a strange request I thought. I was happy to care for her however confused about why the school would ask  her to come late. He texted me that the teacher asked the JK students to come at 10:30 because the Senior kindergarten students were having graduation. So this morning I did have to pass by the school at 8:40am and noticed ALL the kids were on their way to school – as usual. The parents, students and teachers were dressed up, handing…

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Lego cares about your health, kinda.

30 Apr

If your kids are like my kids, then your kids have a shit-ton of Lego, and it’s all over the effing place. In the fridge, in the bathroom. EVERYWHERE. Someone once said sparkles are herpes of the craft world. I have no idea what one would categorize Lego as? I would say it should be categorized under torture devices because, seriously, stepping on a piece of Lego is the absolute worst thing ever. I wonder why Lego is not used to extort information from criminals? The police would get a lot of information from criminals by making them walk on those torture bricks.

Aside from being the evil nemesis of parent’s feet, the Lego brand really does care about the health of its customers. A couple of months ago, I took my youngest to the Lego store. While I was at the store I found Lego brick salt and pepper shakers, which I bought. My boys loved the new shakers. They are cute and are easy to find in my spice cupboard because male refrigerator blindness is not just limited to the fridge. The Lego brick salt and pepper shakers are great for the kids to use on their own because the salt and pepper don’t pour out too fast causing food to become over saturated with either. Unless atherosclerosis is a goal of yours, then I do not recommend you to buy these.


Boobs are awesome. Get them checked.

6 Oct

This month is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. And today I dodged the bullet of having my breast squished in a masochistic vice. Thank fucking goodness. Not everyone is so lucky though.

The reason I was supposed to potentially have a mammogram was because about 2 years ago I found a small, half a pea-sized, lump in my breast. I didn’t have it checked right away, for various reasons. The reason I did have it checked though was for my kids. I didn’t want to wait any more because I want to be there for my boys and see them grow up. If there was something wrong I wanted to catch it before it was beyond treatable. So I went to my doctor and started getting ultrasounds. Luckily, I’m fine and it wasn’t necessary to get the mammogram, but I still have to keep an eye on it, just in case anything changes.

My message to you is check your boobs because boobs are awesome. Especially healthy boobs. If you don’t want to check them yourself, get your significant other to check them. If you don’t have a significant other, get a friend. Just make sure it’s a friend you trust though, and not that weird guy on the bus because that’s just creepy.

I’m finally coming out . . . as a parent of an Autistic child

9 Apr

April is Autism Awareness month. I thought maybe it was time I came out, as a parent with a child on the Autistic Spectrum. Tell my story.

Oh boy, so where do I start? Do I start when he was two, and hyper obsessed about fans, or pedestrian walking signs and signals? Or the part where my sister-in-law, who has a son with Asperger’s Syndrome, pointed out that my son exhibited certain behaviors similar to her own son’s, and that he might be on the Autism Spectrum as well? I could even start when he was in grade one and was having meltdowns in class.

I know, I’ll start at my denial. That seems to be the best place to start. Oh yes, denial. I held on to it for so, so long because there could never be anything wrong with my child. There is no way he can have Asperger’s Syndrome. Oh hell no. I even fought my husband on this issue. There was nothing wrong with my child!

Then there is the guilt. The guilt that I felt because I must be the one screwing up. Maybe it was my fault he is the way he is? Maybe I’ve been too hard on him? Maybe if I hadn’t yelled at him? Oh the guilt. Now let’s add the frustration. Why wasn’t he grasping certain concepts? Why wasn’t he learning? Any other kid would know this or that by now! Now go back to the guilt. The guilt for being so frustrated at this boy, for yelling, then back to frustration for not knowing what to do.  A vicious cycle.

When the meltdowns started happening at school, I knew I couldn’t be in denial any more. There was something there. I wasn’t sure what exactly, but I had to look at it. He needed more than I was able to give him because I didn’t have the skills. We both needed help. It was at that point Chris and I decided to get a diagnosis. The waiting list was long to get an Autism diagnosis. In the meantime, we got him diagnosed for ADD. The specialist we saw confirmed that he didn’t have it, but then that meant one thing. We just had to wait. The wait seemed like forever. Especially when there were meltdowns, and behaviors that we needed help with. Thankfully we had a great teacher who was willing to work with us. He wasn’t worried about his academic career but his well being. Thank goodness for teachers like him. Thank freaking goodness! We were lucky enough to have this teacher for two years in a row. He even emailed us over the summer to tell us he was reading about our son’s special needs.

Finally, we got the diagnosis. It was very hard to hear, but it was a relief at the same time. The only way I can explain it is this:

When you become a parent, you parent the only way you know how. With “neuro-typical” kids usually it works. Or you at least hope it’s working. As a parents we don’t usually come with the skill set to deal with what Autism throws at you. So you just keep parenting the best you can, until the diagnosis comes in and get help. But in that time you’ve dug yourself into a trench with no way out. You’re muddy, tired, exhausted, and feeling slightly insane. When that diagnosis comes, it’s like a ladder appearing in the trench you’ve dug yourself into. You climb out, and it’s then you can finally see the road laid out in front of you. You know what direction you now need to go. The road is long, with bumps and some smooth parts; and it’s going to take one small step at a time to get through it, but you’re no longer stuck.

This is pretty much how I felt. I did what I could before. Listened to advice from friendly Moms and other parents who had the best intentions. Bought stupid fucking books on how to deal with certain behaviors, also suggested by a friendly Mom. (I mean really who wants to read a fucking novel sized book on how to “better parent”?!)

With finally knowing my son has Asperger’s, I learned what was causing certain behaviors. I can now finally pick up on his sensory issues and what may set him off. I now know that he can’t always express himself the way he needs to, and that it’s not always appropriate. But now we can help him to learn those skills. I also know that his meltdowns over clothes were due to sensory issues. I no longer wonder why he certain tasks are hard for him. I’ve also learned to let some things go. Not to sweat the small stuff. Life is one day at a time. Some days it’s one hour at a time. Nothing is ever going to be perfect. I appreciate the days when meltdowns are few and we can actually get out of the house on time, or go somewhere without there being major issues.

The one very important thing I’ve also learned is that Autism doesn’t define him, or will it determine who he is going to be. I love my son with everything I have. And he is not all meltdowns and obsessiveness. He’s funny, quick-witted and can make people laugh and fall in love him. (He’s sometimes like his mother, lacking a filter.) I’m lucky he’s mine.

Let’s Talk About Sex, Baby.

12 Feb

My children, especially one, have seemed to master the art of embarrassing me. I must say though, they’ve learned from the best. I’m fantastically great at embarrassing myself and husband. He’s always worried about what I’ll say and what I’ll do. So naturally my kids are much like me in that way.

Lucky for them most of what they say I just take with a grain of salt. They are who they are. Their Mother’s children. Unfortunately though they have learned that embarrassment can be a form of punishment. Many mornings have I threatened to walk them into their class room, while in my pajamas and messy hair, if they didn’t stop fighting. So one particular day last week my son may or may not have intentionally tried to embarrass me because he wanted to go home.

My youngest son likes to play at the playground after school with his friend. His older brother has to tag along and usually wants to go home. He likes his routine, and after a full day at school he needs to unwind. I get it. Usually while my youngest is playing with his friend, I talk to the friend’s Dad comparing parenting issues. On this particular day, we were talking about the kids weaseling their way into parents beds in the middle of the night. Because every other parent can relate, that when there is a kid in the bed there is no restful sleep. Elbows in the eyes, little feet in the kidneys, and hovering on the edge of the bed because they have pushed you to the point of almost falling off the bed.

My oldest likes to hover. It may not seem like he’s listening, but he is. Unfortunately, he decided to listen in on the conversation we were having. Mid conversation, my wonderful and darling son, decided to chime in with, “My Mom and Dad have sex in their bed all the time.”

. . . .

My reaction was shock. My reply was to tell him that was not proper to say. As I look over I see the friend’s Dad hiding his face in the collar of his jacket, TOTALLY losing it.

I think it was at that point I decided it was definitely time to go home.


Ultimate Mom Tip, From Your Charming Canadian Housewife:

17 Jan

If you have kids like mine, they will search high and low to find the thing/candy I’ve taken away and hidden. They’ve figured out MOST of my hiding spots. Not all, but most. It doesn’t help that one of my kids is of the Aspie mind, so thinking outside of the box is his thing.  He has one upped me on somethings, but not this . . .

Recently I’ve had to take away video game remotes and hide it, due to the kids not following rules and not getting ready for school when asked. I hid the remotes where they would never look. IN THEIR ROOM! Because really, why would they look there? Sometimes the best hiding spots are right under your nose. The trick with this though is to never let the kids know you’ve hidden their own things in their rooms. Otherwise you’ll never be able to hide it there again.

If you have an Ultimate Mom Tip please share because really, we are all in this together. Am I right, parents?

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