Oof. What a summer it's been. SS11 finished Extended School Year on Friday (not so affectionately referred to as "summer school" even though he's there because he missed so much during the school year due to BM not being able to properly adult and because it's beneficial for retention).

I don't know what it is with me lately. I'm irritable. I'm tired. I'm constantly stressed. We're getting into the finishing phases of renovation on this house from hell-in case you don't read my blog entries-no need to click around-cliff notes: moved in with my parents back in April to renovate house up the road from them for ease of access and help/family support. We were supposed to be done in June. It's now, well mid-August. Because DH is the ONLY one doing the renovations on top of working a full 40+ hour per week-progress has been slow at best for that reason and the fact that this house was built by the one of the 3 little piggies (and not the most structurally inclined one-you know, the little porker with the sticks? Oink.). Quick example: Some genius decided to use electrical conduit as plumbing. WTF.

Anyway. Have barely heard a lick from BM in the going on 2 months she's seen her son for a total of 5 hours. She again, said she was going to pick him up this weekend and *crickets*. Her excuse "oh I'm working". Well guess what hunnybunches, so do most other people and we don't have the luxury of taking the summer off from parenting. Not that any normal person would want to. How do you raise a child for the majority of the 10 years of his life and not give a hoot about seeing him or talking to him or anything that involves him for that matter? My most recent favorite-she left her tablet for SS when he went to visit his Nana. It started dinging one day in the middle of the day. I picked it up. Without touching a thing there were emails from "Established Men.com" Tinder and all kinds of other garbage-at her son's fingertips. Good luck guessing the codes to the parental controls I put on it when you finally get it back you floosy.

All of these situation have lead me to my current state of being which I can only describe as.....moody. With DH working 1 1/2 hours away 5 days a week, spending the entire weekend working on our home, which leaves me 7 days a week contending with his SS11 (who is diagnosed with Autism) and our BD2 (which includes prepping for school, communicating with school, appointment scheduling/attending, driving to/from daycare, potty training, bath times etc.), a full work schedule that's only growing and the general house responsibilities (cooking, cleaning, laundry, meal planning, grocery shopping, budgeting, bill paying) but I am also the brain behind the renovation-which means that I budget and schedule and select and plan anything and everything that goes into that house-because no one else will. I think DH picked the vanity in the master bath...that's it. Not to mention my family members are pretty self absorbed-I have begged and demanded that we all eat dinner together, at one time but nooooo my parents insist on making their dinner first, a mess which I need to then clean up in order to make my own family's dinner, which I then get to clean up again while keeping track of bath time and bed time and homework and make DH's lunch because he won't (don't worry I complain about this plenty-but if I have the energy I do it. Which means he gets lunch made for him 1 or 2 times every two weeks. Generally I throw the shit in the cooler and let him sort it out). I could go on. No one in my household besides myself (5 grown ass people and 2 children) has bothered to touch a vacuum, a mop or a scrub brush since we moved in. For instance, my 24 year old sister lives here with my parents as well, and when we moved in I cleaned the shower because it was disgusting. It's getting pretty close again, but do you think she would lift a finger to clean it? No. She just showers in my parent's master instead. I also buy all the groceries. Saturday is the day my family eats leftovers. Do you think that there are ever any leftovers that I have specifically set aside for Saturday (generally I double Thursday's dinner an call it "leftovers" for my own convenience). Nope. That becomes lunch, a midnight snack or gets thrown away because someone didn't realize what it was. Every. Freakin. Week. And it is consumed by the same people who refuse to eat dinner with me because it's not to their "dietary standards" which consist of bologna, cheese and some strange spaghetti casserole. No one else grocery shops to any real degree either (their meat comes from a pig and a cow they had butchered and freeze which is really cost effective in the long run)-but they're killing my budget because when I ask every Friday night, if I need to "get anything for the house," my mother tells me "no I've got it all planned out". Generally I run out of chips, granola bars and have some misc. ingredients missing from my shopping trip by mid-week (I plan meals 3 months in advance-for budgeting and peace of mind purposes). So on spaghetti night, when there is not a strand of spaghetti in sight-I begin to lose my cool. Who wants elbows with their spaghetti sauce? Could I make it into something else-sure, usually I do. But that's not the point.

I'm about to lose my mind.

Then there's my SS11 who I feel horrible for as far as BM goes, but lately he has been on my last nerve-which may very well be not his fault at all. I'm just going write and we'll see where the cards fall.

He has lived with us full time now since April. Prior we got him every weekend Friday-Monday. We are a routine-oriented family and not by choice. We are busy. We have a 2 year old. Structure is currently our life's blood. We do the same thing Every. Single. Day. with minor variances-which even themselves are regular. If A isn't happening-B is. Everyday when SS11 wakes up, I ask him to brush his teeth. Everyday he tells me, I have to eat first, the toothpaste make food taste weird. Sure it does-especially chocolate milk or syrup-totally get it (I know I know-chocolate milk for breakfast-we're structured but I'm not necessarily a strict person when it comes to having a little fun and occasionally sneaking chocolate milk or even ice cream in for breakfast because well...life's too short and hopefully that's what he'll remember of his tumultuous childhood-Ice cream for breakfast the 3rd Wednesday of every month. God I hope my Ped doesn't see this). Every day after breakfast, I ask him to get dressed. I always pre-plan the week's wardrobe and place said outfits neatly inside a 8 drawer, clear plastic storage bin with the week day on it. Socks, underwear, pants, shirt. I have even resorted to putting them in 1 gallon baggies so there is 0, zip, nada, zilch confusion here. I even put the bags in the bathroom. Very similar situation with PJ's. Every day, if I do not tell SS to go get dressed, he will wear the same clothing for DAYS in a row. In fact, it happened today. He wore the same clothes to school that he managed to wear to the grocery store today because I was busy focusing on trying to potty train my 2 year old. Everyday we do the same thing. I say the same thing at the same time and alas, I was fuming in the parking lot at Aldi when I realized that he was in yesterday's outfit. Me:0 Universe:1 what can you do?

I work with people with developmental disabilities. I know, I know in my heart of hearts, that this, this is how it works with Autism sometimes. However, he's got Asperger's-he's high functioning. If he cared to pay attention, he would and he's capable of doing so which just makes me frustrated. There are times I have to tell him his collared shirt is on backwards-he just doesn't seem to pay any attention to anything that isn't a video game. I could be on fire and if he was on that God For Saken DS I would have to drag myself across the floor and call 911 myself.

Electronics are going. Oh are they going. They are now something to be earned, not something you automatically have and then lose for bad behavior. For some reason Potty Training brought this idea to light.

In addition to the normal frustrations of having to think for 4 people and be at least 4 moves a head of the game all the time, parenting 2 children by myself the majority of the time due to circumstance and all the other garbage with BM and life, he's just been not behaving lately.

Everything is a debate. Everything is an argument. Everything is noise. Noise. Noise. Noise. He talks and talks and talks. Once upon a time I listened and responded and was interested and now I'm doing all I can to say as nicely as possible "please dude just 5 minutes" and not scream "WILL YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE AREADY"
at both my kids. At the top of my lungs.

Then I think about how much I want to smack BM. Not only what she's putting SS through-which I'm sure has much to do with the argumentative behaviors I'm seeing, but because F-U DUDE. FU for dumping this huge responsibility on me with no notice after you KNEW what our plan for the house/renovation was. FU for walking away from this beautiful child with no explanation and FU for acting like "working" is an acceptable excuse for your complete lack of involvement the last 5 months. FU for not taking the time to get this kid into a routine of brushing his teeth, I've been to 5 dentist appointments to fix your neglect. FU for CPS in my house in April because you couldn't even be bothered to send SS to school. FU for my 7 am wake ups to make sure he gets the bus ALL SUMMER LONG. And FU for making sure that the schedule allows for barely any day trips or fun things. FU for telling him your coming to see him to not show up. FU for making me become the rule warden and witch I feel like I am.

Better yet. On second thought....

Thank you. Thank you for screwing up so big, that I have him now. Sincerely-thank you. I may feel like a complete and total basket case right now, but tomorrow morning, at 7am, when I go into his room, put his clothes in the bathroom, wake him up and tell him to go eat so he can brush his teeth and get dressed I will know he is safe. He is where he will be loved, no matter how many times he says the same damn thing and no matter how much he gets on my nerves I know he will never be abandoned with a stranger or will have to go one day feeling like he doesn't matter to someone.

So thanks, BM. Because tomorrow I will get my happy ass out of bed and keep on keepin' on.

See what I mean by moody?