Tetras and Breast Milk: What's on the Schedule For Today

My outings are always interesting. After a pumping session that frightened a church van filled with a probable youth group (I can't help it if they saw my business), I carried my milk with me to visit my good buddy Harold at PetsMart. I keep killing my fish. Unintentionally, might I add. So, Harold hooked me up with some tetras that can't *hardly* be killed by mankind.

And if I'm not mistaken, I believe Romeo and Juliet checked out behind me at Blockbuster. I couldn't help but overhear things that concerned me. Juliet was clearly delusional. "How do you feel about going to Heaven soon?" Romeo replied something about looking forward to it and then added, "Will you be drinking before it?" And not to outdo the love birds, but as I left, I experienced the highlight of the trip: a guy carrying a man purse. I don't know why, but those things always make me chuckle.

Now, not too many people can carry breast milk and a school of tetra fish in one handbag (separate locations, of course) and get away with it. I just try to remember that making milk is my only super power (I'll throw raising fish in just to be a good sport). But after the day I had, I believe I can...

One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish

So, Hayden was a little trooper during and (partially) after his surgery. But, he's a fighter. Most of the autism moms around my neck of the woods don't have this enchanting characteristic to deal with. He wouldn't keep his ear hat on (which, consequently, looked like a genital holding cup, and who would want one of those on their head?). All in all, I'd say it went well.

And, like good parents, we bribed him with everything known to man (except a kitten...I do have my limits). Earlier in the week, I made a quick (and I do mean quick) trip to Hobby Lobby. Brock, Ayla, and Hayden were waiting in the car. When I came out, Hayden put his cartoon watching to good use (and who says scripting is bad?). He said, "It's a bird, it's a plane, no, it's Mommy!"

As soon as I got in the car, Hayden had forgotten about Mommy the superhero and was on to something else. We had been asking him about what he wanted if he was a good boy for the doctor. He finally figured it out. He said, "I want a fish."

OK, fish I can do. Kittens...not so much (sorry, I have allergies). Well, apparently after surgery, Hayden was still thinking about his fish. He woke up and said, "Where's my fish?"

Hayden has a long way to go, but these little glimpses into his true personality make me appreciate how far he's come. And, it also makes me realize we'll be off to PetsMart this weekend to buy a family of fish.

That F*$&er Came Out of Nowhere

My husband has trouble driving. It's time to retire his license and cart him around like Ms. Daisy. I'll be stuck in a motor vehicle with him, Hayden, and Ayla for over four hours this week. Hayden has surgery, and we're heading to Vanderbilt.

I can only hope that the trip goes better than our last outing. I was lending my opinion on some of his Nascar-like moves. Hayden was determined to repetitively tell us that he needed to stop at McDonald's for a cup (I know, at least he's talking). Ayla was just along for the ride. Brock enjoys slamming on his brakes at the last minute, even though anyone can clearly see that the car ahead of us is coming to a stop because of the car in front of it. Not my husband. When our latest near-collision took place, Brock was cussing at the "woman" driver who was responsible for the little predicament we almost found ourselves in.

It reminded me of the scene in the Forty-Year Old Virgin where the drunk driver finally crashes into an oncoming car. When the car comes to a stop, she exclaims, "That fucker came out of nowhere!"

So when Ayla starts to talk, don't be surprised if you hear that her first words are something similar to that. And now you know why.