The Texas skies are sunny.
The air is hot.
My yard is dry.
But my carpet, on the other hand, is very, very wet.
Oh, autism, what you bring to my days .....
I've mentioned my son loves water. In one way, that is a blessing. He taught himself to swim at a very early age. He likes to swim along the bottom of pools, as if he is escaping from the chatter, noise and madness above the surface. When you watch him, and how he glides so effortlessly, he looks more like a marine animal than a kid.
It is fun to take him to water parks -- although it is a lot of work, too. He doesn't naturally appreciate the rules that go along with pools and water slides, so someone needs to be fairly near to him at all times. If he wants to go down a slide, an adult MUST be with him; otherwise he might unintentionally break in line or start to slide as soon as the person in front of him has taken off, instead of waiting for the lifeguard's OK. He also might turn to swim back to the end of the slide, so that he can watch the water cascading into the pool. And, boy, does THAT drive the lifeguards mad.
He also must be monitored at diving boards. He is getting better about the waiting-in-line concept, but still needs practice. He gets so excited every time he breaks the surface, that I still feel the need to remind him to "SWIM TO THE SIDE, Daniel!!! NOW." Otherwise, he just might hang out under the board, prompting any number of whistles from lifeguards and shouts from kids waiting their turns.
(Note to lifeguards: when there is a parent on top of things, DON'T BLOW YOU WHISTLE. I know it will be hard. That whistle is, like, really cool, for wicked sure. And I know this job probably represents the most authority you have ever had in your 16 or 17 years on this Earth, but, please, realize that your whistle is stinkin' annoying to the mother twice your age, and with 1 million times the life experience, and give it a rest.)
Ok, so he really likes water. Really, really, really.
Some of you autism mamas probably know where I am about to go with this.
Sinks are my son's friends.
And my enemies.
He stops them up, turns on the water, pours in anything that might produce bubbles, and well, ...... sometimes FORGETS to turn the water off.
It was a problem I THOUGHT we had nipped in the bud several months ago.
But it recently re-emerged.
A few days ago, a kayak could have floated through my bathroom.
All I did was take a few minutes to color with my daughter. I forgot the door to my bathroom was open. (I have one of those "child-resistant" door-knob covers on the outside knob, just for this reason. My daughter can pry them off, but even my four-year-old girl appreciates the reason it is there.) Who knows how much time passed -- how much time does it take to flood a bathroom???? I walked into my bedroom, heard the sound of running water, and raced back to find both the hot and cold faucet-heads running full blast, and water was EVERYWHERE -- cascading off the countertops, flowing into and back out of the bathroom cabinets, and seeping into the carpet in both the bedroom and closet.
Water, water EVERYWHERE. (You guys probably know the Baby Einstein line, right?)
So, add to the list of things I have done for the first time since starting this single-parenting gig. I busted out the Shop Vac and fired that baby up. (Yes, I know, how does a woman go 34 years without using a Shop Vac, even if she is married? Well, I did, OK.) It sucks up water very nicely. But when there is enough water on your bathroom floor to fill up a kick-ass children's pool, it takes a while.
And, the carpet?????? Shop Vac, towels, fans, you name it -- I used it all. And it was still a full day before the carpet was completely dry. So, I can probably add household mold to the reality that is my life.
Before you write to me, know that I have learned my lesson. The stoppers have been removed from my sinks.
Want to know the BEST part?????????????????????
As I was cleaning out the soaking cabinets, I discover rodent poop.
Yes, there is a rodent in my house.
Is somebody screwin' with me????? Cause sooner or later, this life of mine might get to be a bit much. But, surely, just as soon as I find that critter in the traps now lining my bathroom.... surely that will kick-off a string of good fortune. Surely.