Saturday, November 24, 2012

Happy Birthday To Me

Today is my 43rd birthday, and Conor got me the same exact thing this year that he gave me last year.

I'm not sure if it was because he was overwhelmed by the Thanksgiving holiday in general (there's so much to do to prepare), or whether he just couldn't come up with something unique. Who knows? 

This year, though, he gave it to me one day early, which was a little surprising but not unexpected. He just couldn't hold it in anymore, I suppose. He has trouble keeping these things to himself.

I had the same reaction this year as I did last year. No, no really, you really shouldn't have. No, really, I mean it.

There's something extra special about the very public grand mal tantrum. It adds a little spice, a little kick to the otherwise mundane spectacle of my almost-14 year old going ape shit. I like to think of it as giving back to the community. Otherwise, what would they have to talk about with their friends and family for the rest of the day? The beauty of the fall foliage? How très ennuyeux.  T
rès bourgeois.

Trees?  Yawn.
But this tantrum I saw? Amazing.

No, with this tantrum at the very crowded nature center in the county, Conor was able to entertain a whole host of nature-lovers as my husband and I struggled to restrain him both out-of and inside the car.

Seriously, who knew the gift shop at the nature center was only open on Sundays from 1pm-4pm? Certainly not me, or I wouldn't have taken him there at his behest. I guess nature doesn't need the revenue from the gift shop, so why bother to have it open more than 3 hours a week? Trees don't need much, I suppose. Just a hug now-and-again.

There you go; all better.

My heart is as bitter as aspirin after receiving this gift, so I may be re-gifting this one. It is, after all, one of those unrefundable "experience" gifts that you can't return. The problem is that the poor soul that receives my re-gift won't know what hit them. Literally.

Next year, I think Conor should just stick with the tried-and-true purse idea. You can't go wrong with a purse, Conor. You can never have too many of those. The tantrum, on the other hand, I could do without.

5 comments:

Tanya Verdugo said...

Wow. Geez. I am not settled by the fact others get to experience a very public "ape shit" episode. I often ask why? When is enough enough? We are only given what we can handle bullshit is wearing and I hate when people say that to me...
Hope you had a nice beverage or seven for that! Happy Birthday! Hugs..
Hope nobody was hurt.

Alisa Rock said...

No, it's not very settling at all, is it? I agree with your sentiment about the "all you can handle" cliche. I saw a meme once that said "Am I stronger or is it killing me?" That's pretty much how I feel most days these tantrums happen.

I have a glass of wine most every night, LOL. Thanks for the birthday wishes. I got some scratches and the hubby too, Conor says his head hurts from banging it and his poor hand is torn up from the biting. But we'll all survive.

Barbie Hines said...

Alisa:

My name is Barbie Hines...I have a 10 year old son, Jimmy...who is the clone of Conor...I live your life. I was hoping I could speak with you, either by email or via telephone...we need to decide if we are sending him to Kennedy Kreiger in the very near future...was hoping to get advice/experience/opinions on Kennedy Kreiger...barbiehines@comcast.net

All the best-
Barbie Hines

Tanya Verdugo said...

I am sorry to hear there were minor injuries. I feel so bad when they are hurt the next day or later. It is similar to an out of body experience and they just go into another state. Breaks my heart as I am sure yours too. Hang in there and keep moving forward.. We are all mother warriors. Attached is an interesting link I ran into. Thought you would like to read it.
http://www.disabilityscoop.com/2009/11/10/autism-moms-stress/6121/

Alisa Rock said...

I agree, Tanya. His 1:1 and I describe it as if a red tsunami was happening in his brain and he is unable to stop it. He almost feels no pain during these tantrums. His poor hands are still torn up. Thanks for the link; look forward to reading it.