An ASD Night Before Christmas...

You all the know the old version, so here is the Madmother reworked one:

An ASD Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the home

Not a meltdown had happened, not even a moan;

The stockings were hung wherever they could,

In hopes that old Santa would soon hit our ‘hood;

The children both nestled like angels asleep,

As I sat exhausted, having a weep;

The year almost over, appointments all run,

Therapies halted, routine now undone.

For most ‘tis the season for all to be jolly,

In an ASD house to lose order is folly.

And so as I sat, wiped the tears from my face,

I knew that for morning I must myself brace.

He had made me happy, with his pixie-ish glee

The evening was joyous, as the Eve just should be

But tomorrow his senses would hit overload,

And a Christmas Day meltdown was sure to explode.

Lost in my thoughts, stiff drink by my side,

A sudden strange noise drew attention outside.

I walked to the door filled with visions of drunks,

Flung it wide open expecting some punks.

Imagine my shock, when to my surprise

There stood old Saint Nick before tired eyes!

I rubbed them quite hard, then I rubbed them again

As he held out his gloved hand, said “Hello friend”

In shock I did shake it, invited him in

And asked if he wanted some of my Gin?

“No, right now you need it a lot more than myself."

I downed it, surrendered the glass to his elf.

Resplendent in red suit, white beard down his front.

The lounge creaking loudly, he sat with a grunt.

His elf dropped beside him, the sack at his feet

My jaw still hung open, in sheer disbelief

He had a broad face and a big round belly,

That shook, as he spoke, like a bag full of jelly.

“I wanted to drop by in person tonight

Accept my apologies for the sudden fright.

I usually come in when you are all asleep,

To check on the children and spread magic to keep

You all happy and safe and sound for the year

But I have this letter that you need to hear.”

From his red pocket, he pulled out a sheet

All crumpled and wrinkled and covered in sleet.

He unfolded it carefully, well-read as it was,

Pulled out his spectacles, placed onto nose.

He cleared his dry throat and then lowered his chin,

“Dear Santa, well that’s same way they all do begin,

How are you, ready for Christmas this year?

I tried to be good, but wasn’t real good I fear.

My name is Boy 1, I have ASD

Things get quite hard when you have to be me.

See, my Mummy she loves me just as I am

She saves me from falling and tells me I can

Do anything I want, in this great world of mine

She works hard to assist me and allows me to shine.

But she gets quite tired and cries sometimes too

So I have a big favour to ask just of you.

This Christmas please don’t bring me any new stuff,

Mummy, she makes sure I've more than enough.

This Christmas I don’t want my Mum to be sad

So can you please help me to stop acting bad.

I know it is hard when she sees all my fears

So, could you please help me to stop screams and tears?

I know you can do it, I do really believe

In the magic of Christmas, so please could you? Please?

I will do my best to be good next year too,

Oh and I’ve left out some milk and cookies for you.”

He folded it back up, mopped the tears from my cheeks

“You must truly be proud, that boy is unique.

I’ve had tons of letters, is it a million or ten?

But not one of the others I brought back to them.

I think he has granted your one real Christmas wish,

So I will bid you adieu and a very Merry Christmas.”

With that he turned, without a sound he was gone

Leaving me here filled with hope and so strong.

So believe in the magic, when nothing feels right

And

"Happy Christmas to all,

and to all a good-night."

 
 
A very Merry Christmas to you and yours, and may 2011 mark the best of yet to come.
 

Ideas?

Yep, I'm back. In one piece. Will post later about the trip and the consequences but for now just want to keep this simple.

I have a dilemma. Big Boy works until late Christmas Eve, it is the busiest time of the year for our retail business. We cannot go away until after Christmas Day.

But... I do not want to be at home, I do not want to be surrounded by years of memories of Wise Woman Christmases. But I have no idea what to do instead. Add in the fact that Boy 1 will not cope with change and neither child enjoys eating out, then you have my dilemma.

How on earth do I make this a joyous time for my children whilst not allowing the memories and grief to swamp us?

Any ideas from blog world?

A Moment to Savour Christmas

The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree: the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other.

~Burton Hillis~

The rain is tapping the windows in a frenzied attempt to enter our home. Its staccato rhythm blends with the joyous laughter of Boy 1 and Boy 2 as they explore the intricasies of new possessions, and wallow in the rare pleasure of not having to be anywhere other than here.

Yesterday was the best Christmas Day I can remember for many years. I think last year served as a huge reminder that Christmas in not about presents, or possessions. It is about family.

Twelve months ago I could barely summon the energy to put up the Christmas tree. Presents were shoved in gift bags, no attempt made to hide or keep surprises, Christmas did not exist in my heart. My mother was deathly ill. She bled every day and the chronic anaemia had taken chunks from her senses: of taste, her ability to swallow, her eyesight (not the best anyway), her concentration and worst of all, her desire to live. She cried daily, exclaiming: "Why do I have to wake up to this hellish life every morning? Why can't I just die."

Christmas day she was so unwell that she didn't even want to see her grandchildren. I packed up her baked lunch into an esky, took it to her, sat and watched as she picked, and fiddled, and ate barely a morsel. I then packed up the dishes and returned to eat my now cold meal, well after my family had finished theirs. And my heart broke a little more, as it had daily in the months since the nightmare began.

Fast forward to yesterday morning. We awoke to the laughter of our manic boys, the house a shimmer with lights, and tinsel, decorations and loudly caroling, jiggling, mechanical Christmas figurines. The boys opened a few presents, but most were kept to be shared later, as we calmly began preparing lunch. Soon glorious smells of roasting chicken smothered in bacon wafted through the rooms. Boy 1 and myself grabbed an umbrella, and set off. To pick up Nanna. My miracle Mum. The rest of the day was one of the quietly happiest days of my life. I floated, wrapped in a cloak of contentment and peace. Mum stayed all day, and when I took her home she was tired but elated. And full to the brim with her huge meal of chicken drizzled with gravy, roast pumpkin, sweet potato, potato, broccoli, corn on the cob, and carrots, consumed with gusto. She even partook of her old tipple of choice, port with lemonade (eat your heart out Esme Watson). A huge contrast to last year's dismal degustation. She even had some of the steamed, alcohol drenched, impregnated with rich, decadent dried fruit pudding.

What a truly wonderful family Christmas day, the way it is meant to be. Full up of love; laughter; life; joy. A Christmas of the heart. God, I love my life right now.

Peace to you all.

 

Challenge 29: A Very Festive Merry Madmother Christmas

Blog This

What does a Madmother view
as Festive?

Why, Mad Boys, of course!

               Christmas 2003

Christmas 2004

            









           Christmas 2005

Christmas 2006

That’s all folks! I have been forbidden to show the more recent ones due to Mad Boys’ desire for anonymity.

Merry Christmas to all!

Oh, and this is my entry for the Blog This Challenge 29: Photographic Challenge

"FESTIVE"

Just pick the photos you like best... Hehehe.

Oops, I meant Ho Ho Ho.

Mother or Martyr?

Following on from my last dummy spit post, I thought I would reveal a little more about our lives. We run a retail store, Big Boy and I. Thus, this time of year is more manic than any other period. We work six days a week, 16 hour days are not unusual for at least one if not both of us (luckily, I can do some  of the admin things from home). We do not see each other, we rarely have family time. We also tend to find the customers a little less tolerant at Christmas than usual. A perfect example of this occurred yesterday when Big Boy received a phone call complaining about a product. Conversation (which I could hear as the customer was screaming) went along the lines of this:

Big Boy: "Hello, **** ******." (Insert our business name)
Customer 1: "Yes, this is such and such. I purchased this widget from you 6 weeks ago and it is faulty."
Big Boy: "Ah, Mr  such and such, from *****, I remember you. How can I help?  Can you explain to me what is happening when you turn it on."
Customer 1: "It is faulty, I want a refund."
Big Boy: "If you could explain what the problem is maybe I can help resolve it without you having to send the product back." (Customer is other side of country.)
Customer 1 screaming: "I know my rights. I've looked at the consumer affairs website. I want a refund."
Big Boy: "Sir, if you would please calm down, I am trying to help."
Customer 1: "I am a member of the ********* Society over here and I am telling everyone you sell dodgy goods and are frauds!"

Now this went on for another five minutes more until finally Big Boy calmed him and he explained the issue. And guess what? Product wasn't faulty, user was!

Which is why Big Boy and not Madmother handles all the customers. I would have hung up much earlier when the swearing started. Did the dickhead customer apologise? Hell, no. They never do. And we would have at least one phone call and one in store EVERY day over the Christmas period. Big Boy is amazing. In the eight years we have had the business he has only thrown one tosser out of the store. He is polite, calm, rational - then he comes home and vents to me!

But it is this pressure-filled fast pace of life which makes me do my drama queen bit. You know, the "look at moi... look at MOI!" Posts. I love to blog but being a mother means my needs go to the bottom of the list. We all do it. And if I don't see any comments I do tend to do a why bother to myself.

Yes, it is very princessy, yes a bit delicate little petal too, but hey... even a Madmother has her tiny foibles...

The Christmas Spirit

How incredibly fast has this year flown by? I cannot believe that tomorrow is December 1st and I'll be pulling out the reindeer, untangling the lights (bah - who needs a Rubic's Cube when you have thousands of little light bulbs and wires to unknot), risking life and limb climbing on the roof to fasten Santa on, and going a little Christmas mad.

Think Griswalds in the bush, because the crazy thing is NOBODY can see all our decorations unless they are actually coming to our place! Our driveway is 500 metres long and you cannot see our house from the street. In fact we have had tradies who have lived here for thirty years comment: "Had no bleedin idea this place was 'ere!"

But it's all about the Christmas spirit, isn't it? At least that's what I tell Big Boy as he shakes his head in disbelief at another Yard Art purchase... We even have a dinosaur pulling a sleigh for near the letterbox. There are elves, Santa falling off the roof, reindeer, and more reindeer, flashing lights and Merry Christmas signs. Next on my list is one of those massive flashing stars for our roof, I am hoping it will be visible from the coast road as you can see our house on the hill from there.

Come on people - no more jaw dropping shocked reactions - why do you think they call me