I have been reveling in the simplicity and delight of manning only one child this week.

Not that I don't miss Iz. But the house is blessedly quiet, and there are no 8 A.M. school drop offs or extra lessons to shuttle her to or hours-long homework sessions to shoehorn in this week.

Leelo is enough to deal with. His schedule and school/lesson shuttling needs are wearing, especially when I'm still doing my mandatory one-week vacation recovery shtick.

The additional needs of full nesting mode do not exactly help me recharge my energy reserves: "This baby cannot come into a house where the carpets are not steam-cleaned! We will proceed to rearrange every item, large and small, in the entire house!"

Leelo, however, could care less about my extreme tiredness, and decided to visit another nighttime shitstorm upon us the evening before last. This time he covered not only his bed, but the carpet, chairs, and many toys with filth. I don't think the mess was deliberate; I think he stepped in it and then proceeded to be his usual crazy dervish self. Miraculously, his diaper and pajamas were carefully laid to the side, and absolutely clean.

I tried to be chirpy and point out to Seymour that this is an indicator of increasing potty awareness--some autistic kids never learn to care about sitting on a pile of poo--but he was wrestling a very dirty Leelo to the bath at the time and didn't really want to hear it.

Supervisor M thinks that it would help if we incorporate potty training into his night time routine, and read him his bedtime stories while he's on the pot. One more thing for our schedule...

I'm sure I'll appreciate Iz when she returns tomorrow. Though it probably earns me a special place in hell (as does the nun costume I wore to Leelo's school Halloween party today), I am less than enthusiastic about her traveling entourage, which includes only her grandparents, but also baby Picard and his parents--all of whom will be staying at our house for several days. If anyone needs me, I'll be hiding in my closet.

Iz tidbit, which I keep forgetting to post:

Grandma was quizzing her about politics. She asked, "So, Iz, do you know who our Vice President is?"

Iz said, "Yes, Dick Cheney."

My mom beamed.

After another beat, Iz said, "He's insane!"

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