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End of the day, the hour hand has spun...

Rainy Monday's are usually the bane of my existence- what could add more insult to the injury of a Monday then grey skies and wet sidewalks? But after the early heatwave of this weekend, the cool, wet, open-window weather was warmly welcomed.

The heat rushed in just in time for the town-wide yard sale on Saturday. Marla and I were up bright and early to set up our wares, fueled by iced coffee and dreaming of all of the money we would make and space we would have sans junk. Sadly, PJ woke up barfing early that morning, so Pete was on Cute Dude Duty while I sat yard sale-ed away. We didn't get rid of as much as I would have liked, but it was fun to hang out with my sister. I did sell PJ's pack n' play, and I have to admit, as I watched a cute girls with a slight baby bump haul it away, I teared up. PJ didn't even use it much (hence its sale), but I thought of the tiny, fluffy-haired baby who napped in the little bassinet on top. I missed that baby so. damn. much, despite how much I loved the barfing three-year-old napping on our couch in the air-conditioned apartment. Marla made fun of my emotions, until she sold her purse from her wedding and teared up, too. Ahem. Either way, we added a few bucks to our bank account and Marla and I had a fun, hot afternoon outside.

PJ is still in a difficult phase. We had his sports class for the first time in three weeks (off for Mother's Day, off for illness, off for Memorial Day, respectively). Our return yesterday was an Epic Fail. As soon as we walked in, PJ asked to enter the free play area so he could find the ride-on Thomas the Train toy. I told him "no", and it was all downhill from there. I held my ground and didn't leave the class- I didn't want to set a precedent that bad behavior will allow him to end a non-preferred activity early. We remained in the classroom, but PJ didn't participate. Instead, he alternately screamed and cried, pinching my arms and smacking my glasses off (Dude. I have got to refill my script for contacts...). It was a bad scene. I felt myself tearing up, wanting to enjoy the luxury of a good cry while my son railed against me, but instead I held it together and tried my best to talk him down. On the way out of the building, he sweetly looked up at his teacher and said "Bye bye! Have a nice weekend!" It was adorable, but didn't win him any points!

I was nervous, because our next stop was the mall. I had some gift cards from my birthday and it had become vital that I spend them on new sneakers. My feet have been in constant pain over the past few months from what I am pretty sure is a case of Wearing Flip Flops and Uggs For Three Straight Years Like A Dumbass Disease. PJ must have had some sympathy for my foot pain, because he was an angel in the store and gave me ample time to get new sneakers and a pair of sandals. The sandals have a vaguely orthopedic look to them, but they are so comfortable I almost cried when I put them on. I wore them out of the store and even after walking around the mall for a while, I can feel a huge difference. It was hard to fathom spending a lot of money on shoes, but much needed. My feet are happy.

And here we are at Monday night. I drank my night time coffee, the Penguins are losing, and I have a hard back copy of the new Khaled Hosseini book to read. Bliss.

Goodnight friends! Thanks, as always, for coming by. <3>


My knees are SCREAMING daily because of my flip flop disease.

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{ of consciousness}

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You can view a summary of the latest CDC report here, but there are two points of the report that stood out to me:
Less than half (44%) of children identified with ASD were evaluated for developmental concerns by the time they were 3 years old.Most children identified with ASD were not diagnosed until after age 4, even though children can be diagnosed as early as age 2.Content source: National Center on Birth Defects and Developmental Disabilities
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