When Momma's Unhappy

You know the old saying, "If Momma ain't happy then no one is happy" well that's an understatement if I have ever heard one!!!

Life with two autistic boys can be a bit of a challenge. Instead of one behavior issue there are often two running concurrently and in opposite directions. Sometimes it is enough to drive you to the brink of insanity. Fortunately, a hand always appears out of the mist to pull me back off the ledge because "someone" knows there isn't anyone else around to do the job I do. Mothering is often a thankless task and "SHE" knows it. Today was one of those thankless days. Dave knew it was "one of THOSE days" because when I arrived home at 7 p.m. with the kids I looked at him and said, "You have to take this child or I am going to commit a crime against humanity!!!." And with that I walked back out the door and went to indulge in a little retail therapy ALONE. One thing a mother of autistic children does NOT want to do is take them to the store with her. (Refer back to the mannequin incident involving a pulled up shirt and hands on the oh-so-perfect and perky breasts that some man having a wet dream must have designed.) This is only one reason I avoid stores at all costs when I have children in tow.

Another way I know its been a stressful day is when I am on a diet and I go ahead and buy a container of cookies. Call it tempting fate or Russian Roulette it doesn't matter when It's my favorite. Ummm, chocolate almond biscotti with it's s-o-o-t-h-i-n-g butter taste and the melt-in-your-mouth sweetness of the crushed almonds which cling to my tongue while the chocolate coating swirls around my mouth like a robust cognac. Unfortunately, all of this silky sweetness of serves to jump start my taste buds into action after a week of bland green food. Of course it is easy to justify said purchase. I usually do it by playing some form of the numbers game which goes something like this: "I will only have three cookies. Yep, just three. They only have 120 cal, 8 carbs which means I will eat salad for breakfast for the next week to compensate." Of course, before I even finish the thought and brush the crumbs from my lips the number of carbs and calories consumed have become so gargantuan that I can no longer do the math without a scientific calculator!


You also know it's a "Momma Ain't Happy Day" when you keep repeating back to yourself the simple reminder that you love your child and he cannot help himself no matter how much medication you or said child is on. Usually by employing this strategy I can convince myself that if I say it over and over again I will remember it and remain astonishingly calm the next time my child is on a mission to put me in the loony bin before his 8th birthday. Yet, if you are like me, repeating this mantra for the two thousandth time tends to put you in a trance. Tonight it happened in the store's dressing room and it wasn't until I arrived home that I realized the dress I purchased is in the most Gosh-awful shade of coral (who looks good in coral anyway?) and is three sizes too small. And because I will be leaving for a wedding tomorrow it means I must return the dress and take the kids into the store with me; thereby negating any therapy I might have gotten from the original excursion. Just the thought of taking said children to the store then gives me the shakes which ultimately leads to a third shot of vodka for the night. The result of being that I will most likely have a hangover the size of Texas tomorrow morning; once again proving the old adage that if Momma's unhappy...well you know the rest.