Therapist F came back from vacation today. Leelo was delighted to see her and had a great session. Supervisor M came over too and we had the second of what will be our twice-monthly meetings. Went over lots of things such as needing to model greetings by identifying people with "Hi, Dorkface" or whatever their name is, as Leelo now greets people with "That's Dorkface!" Also was reminded that I am a total fuck-up as I was supposed to gather and print out all sorts of pictures for "social stories" about what Leelo and his friends do during a day. I blame my PalmPilot--it refuses to recognize my handwriting, and so I refuse to record reminders or lists. Will do the pictures thing by Monday.
Fellow solider MB sent me an interesting article comparing the symptoms of mercury poisoning with those of autism (with the caveat that it's written by a true believer). Woo. MB and I also discovered that we are both Rh negative, and were given Rhogam shots containing Thimerasol during our pregnancies (the mercury-containing vaccine fixative is no longer used). Fuck for the fortieth time. Leelo will start heavy metals chelation in a few months, after Dr. Prattle feels the boy's gut will be able to take it.
Leelo is sitting in his high chair yelling at his Thomas the Tank Engine book. He keeps putting his finger on Harold the Helicopter's mouth and commanding "Shhh! QUIET!"
I hate being the one in charge of all the house crap. Part of being the domestic as opposed to the laborer, I suppose, but it is TEDIOUS. I tore down the hideous gray blinds that came with our house weeks and weeks ago, because they added those scale-tipping extra grains of depression. Now the snotty neighbors can watch me spill cereal on the couch whenever they want. I hate this too, but haven't had the energy to deal with it all. However, Leelo is distracted by the view so I've been told to get a move on. Sigh. We are aiming for inexpensive yet professionally installed, since we are cheap yet inept.
Hate house crap and am fuck up version 2: Just got a notice from our home insurance company informing us of cancellation due to non-payment. Whoops yet again. Didn't I pay that? Maybe I really should stop organizing my office by piling all the papers on the floor, giving it a good stir, then seeing what floats to the top.
All that new music finally arrived (well, new to me. I am usually 5-10 years behind). Dressy Bessy is as perky as advertised. St. Etienne's Good Humor is a tonic for the wounds that accompanied the sucking of The Cardigan's second U.S. release. April March pains my ears in the manner of Julie Brown yet I can't stop listening. Must be something subliminal happening there.
Happy discovery: LH knows the lyrics to ...Birth Control and Beer! (Before I had children, this was the only non-show tune I knew by heart.) Now I don't have to go to Indiana to find someone to sing along!