I let a lot slide this month because I'm gearing myself for the one-two punch of Halloween and the boy's birthday. I make a big deal. I have to. There are only five kids in his class, and if we don't host a party, he might not get to go to one all year. It's a moral imperative.
I'm usually all jazzed about this, but this year, I'm a little worried. We're in a theme rut, folks. For the past two years, the boy has worn a homemade Perry costume for Halloween and has had Phineas and Ferb birthday parties. It's the only thing he likes.I made the Perry costume out of a t-shirt, hat, and long underwear. For the second Halloween, I just bought bigger long underwear.
The first Phineas and Ferb birthday party featured cupcakes decorated with little plastic character rings. For the second party, I made these Perry cupcakes. I think I knocked it out of the park, if I do say so myself. And now I don't know what else to do. I'm not a Pinterest person. I had an account but I think it got hacked because there are a million pins about how to firm up your booty. I don't care about my booty; it's behind me and I can't see it. I don't even have one. I'm serious. If you look at me sideways, I go straight down. I have legs and a back.But I digress.
Do I just make the same cupcakes again? It's not like I'm trying to impress anyone but my kid. The other autism moms are fantastic and they understand better than anyone that a kid can get stuck on a theme. Dare I attempt a different character? He likes Nemo, but only wants to watch the scene with the seagulls. He likes Woody and Jessie, but has never even seen Toy Story, nor does he care to. He just wants to pop the heads off the figures.
What's a mom to do?
I know these are not real problems. I know this. Believe me. We have enough real problems that I know the difference.
But the real problems are so much harder, if not impossible. They are too real. We have doctor's appointments and MRIs and medication and behavior plans that rarely work. We have family members who refuse to have a relationship with our boy and therefore no longer have a relationship with us. We have financial worries--both short-term and long-term. What's going to happen to him when we die? Why isn't there any music therapy within an hour of our house? And why the eff can't I find a gluten-free bakery that does children's cakes?
There is so much I can't control, but I refuse to sit on my nonexistent ass and do nothing. So I will obsess on the cupcakes and throw my boy a great birthday party.
And yeah, probably buy even bigger long underwear for the Perry costume.
