Autism and Puberty… Yuck

That about sums up how I’m feeling about it lately.

My boys, now 11 and 16, are driving me nuts!

Got a postcard in the mail from the school.  My 11 year old “uses his manners!  Says please and thank you! Great job!”

How nice for them!

Last week we were in the car and my son passed gas.  I asked him, “What do you say?” and he answered, “You’re welcome!”


We have definitely entered in to the middle school stage and the rebellion that comes along with it.  He’s starting to say things like, “I want video games and don’t you dare say I can’t.”  Or “Get me some water, MOM!”  The polite little boy I once knew and loved is turning into a smart-mouthed tween that I know and love.

Hey, I can’t help it.  I’m the mom.

Some of it is quite comical. His older brother’s door has a sign that says “Danger… Josh’s Room!”  Philip wrote a note that says, “Philip’s Room. Do not enter unless I give your permission.”  This was on his actual door… at least he used pencil.  So my daughter did her own sign  that says, “No boys allowed unless you ask and I say it’s ok.”  (Click here to see her other messages.)

That stuff makes me laugh.  But sometimes I wish that the other types of rebellion my 11 year old does were more “typical.”  You know, swearing or something.  Instead, I’m finding my earring in the freezer.  No kidding.  And discovering food that he knows he’s not supposed to eat hidden in the bathroom, right in the boy’s “spray” area.  Gross.

Perhaps these are typical; I’m new to this and my one “typical” kid is only 7, so I have nothing to compare.

My oldest keeps “rebelling” by doing stupid stuff household projects that he doesn’t have permission to do.  A few weeks ago he waited until we were occupied elsewhere, and dragged the very heavy free-standing propane fireplace out to the back yard to paint it (on my to-do list, had just got the paint) and “fix it.”  To make a long story short, my husband had to “fix” my oldest son’s “fixes” and was pretty angry about it, too. At least it was painted, even though it cost him plenty in replacement parts.

This happened after a string of such activities like “framing” the attic window in the awesome workshop that my husband is building, and adding a “porch” to the front of said shop.  He also “fixed” some wiring at grandma’s house, which then had to be replaced by.. you guessed it… my husband.  Good ol’ mister fix-it himself to the rescue! 

Once is funny.  Twice, we shake our heads.  Three plus times…. it’s gettin’ old, people!

I yearn for my oldest to do something like get piercings or try to steal my rum or, even better yet, run away from home.  Then I tell myself to be careful what I wish for… we can fix the stove, the window frame, the wiring… but maybe not staph infections or alcoholism or bad-things-that-happen-to-run-aways. 

So my previous posts about getting back to blogging, blah blah blah… ignore them.  I am doing well just keeping up with my home. 

But don’t give up on me.  I still have plenty of stories to share… just have to find a moment to write when I don’t have to worry about freezer-burned jewelry and rewired doorbells. 


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