It’s another beautiful day here in vacationland; think it’s not going to be too hot or humid, with a chance of some afternoon showers.
Today’s the day! Kiddo has a few hours with her behavioral worker, a lady who shows her how to behave socially in the community, how to figure out a budget (heck, maybe I should go along with them) how to do various everyday things that she’ll need to know for the future.
Then, a week of overnight camp, I’m so blessed! When she returns from her time spent with her worker, we’ll take a stroll, and then, drive to camp! Hurrah!
Yes, I love her dearly. Yes, I enjoy (mostly) the time we share. It’s summer vacation here in kidville….I need a bit of breathing space, and break from being on call, from being the (1) activity director (2) supervisor (3)butt wipe (4)shoe tie servant, and any number of other stuff I do on a regular basis.
Does she know how to do some chores? Yes. Lots of times, it’s easier to just get it done by myself, instead of being a job coach and stand and instruct, repeatedly. Then, there is always the arguing about getting something done. That’s any teen, but with kiddo it is times 100.
She’s improved in her behavior and has matured alot in last few years. She still is a 3 or 4 year old in many ways, but in some ways, she reminds me of an ‘almost typical’ teen.
I wont be inactive when she is having fun at camp. There is stuff to do, (plenty!) and appointments to keep. I just have a real hankering to be left alone for a while. No conversations, no arguments, no discussions, no answering questions with obvious answers (her way of chatting,and being reassured, I think).
Arlo the parrot, also is restless this morning, probably picked it up from me. He’s demanded buttered toast, yelled at the squirrels outdoors, asked to go out, demanded eggs, and asked for ‘bobbity’. Yes, he got the eggs, and I’m all out of the ‘bobbity’, which is a grain, vegetable mix I make. Gave him some other stuff too, but he isn’t satisfied yet. He went outdoors, and I can hear him yelling ‘your ears are wierd!’ and ‘stop that!’you are a wienerd!’ (he made that up himself; he used to love to eat little bites of wieners, when I’d feed them to the kids when they were little. He’d ask repeatedly for wieners…Finally, we began to tell him that he WAS a wiener. Then, he coined the phrase ‘you’re a wie-nerd!’)
I hope you all have a good day; it’s time to pack up for camp.


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