History of a diagnosis (es)

LB and ‘diagnosis’. Well that was a winding old road, with a few false starts (and ultimately a dead end). I knew there was something up from the first couple of months. He was way, way too good. So good (undemanding, placid, cheerful, smiley and happy to just watch everyone) but every so often, he would have random outbursts in which he was inconsolable. I used to ask friends if they thought there was anything different about him but it was always a giant ‘NOOOOOOO.  Don’t be daft’… But I knew. Continue reading

LB and the failed kebab

“Hey LB! How did meal prep go today?”
“Not good Mum.”
“Oh. Why not?”
“I failed Mum.”
“Whaddayamean, you failed?”
“I failed Mum.”
“Why? What did you cook?”
“Kebabs Mum.”
“Oh, I don’t get it. What went wrong?”
“I didn’t have a skewer Mum.”
“Oh. Why not?”
“Dunno Mum.”
“So what did you eat for lunch?”
“Bits Mum.”

Laughing boy and the mermaids

LB came back from his dad’s house very chirpy indeedy.  He’d watched the fourth Pirates of the Caribbean film and was very, very taken with the mermaids in it.  Turns out he hadn’t come across mermaids before.  Having such specialist interests from a very early age (buses, lorries, Eddie Stobart and the London Met) meant that he boycotted all the usual books/films that mermaids would crop up in.  At nearly 17, mermaids were a revelation.

He’s now become very focused on finding out if they exist, or not.  Since yesterday morning, we’ve repeatedly said they are a myth.  Richy has googled images of manatee’s to talk about where the myth may have come from, but he ain’t convinced.

Today he came back from school with a handwritten note to put in a bottle and drop in the River Thames. The note says;

To the mermaids, do you exist or don’t you? From LB

I’ll keep you posted.

A post for Rosie

Rosie “I’m not going to spend my entire life reading your blog, Mum” got her A-level results this morning. 3A*’s.

I am so fucking proud of her.  Only LB and I were home when she went off to school to collect them.  I dragged him away from youtube for 20 seconds to say good luck to her.

Mutter mutter. “Good luck, Rosie”. Mutter mutter.
“What results is she going to get, LB?”
Mutter mutter. “Maths, Mum”. Mutter mutter.

 

After she called with the results, I had a little weep, called Richy and then told LB how well his sister had done.

Mum,” he replied, through gritted teeth, “I am telling you I am not stressed and the psychologist did not ban me from using youtube. He is criminally insane.” 

Well this ain’t about you LB. It’s about Rosie. Good for you, girl. You deserve it.

Matching socks

I don’t know why, but when my feet got cold this afternoon, it became hugely important to find matching socks.  This was no easy task but, after 40 odd years of never giving a hoot about socks, the little buggars had to match. How weird is that?

It was so strangely important, I started to attach magical outcomes to the achievement of finding a pair. Continue reading

Summer fun*

As part of our programme of Summer fun*, I went to Oxford with LB to go on the City Bus Tour.  The rest is visual. Except, as you will see, it all comes back to pigeons.

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“Any minute now mum?”

We expected a BT engineer this afternoon as our phone and internet is broken. This had particular significance for Laughing boy because of his love of watching Eddie Stobart lorries, bus and cross channel ferry videos on youtube. I felt like shite and spent the day in bed but at 1pm LB came in and asked what time the engineer was coming. “Ah”, I replied, “Anytime now. They said between 1 and 6pm, so any minute now”. “Any minute now mum?” repeated LB, bouncing off happily.

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Bagging a llama

Now, for the purposes of this post, I’m substituting Laughing boy’s surname (which happens to be an endangered species) for Llama. And, I’m pretending that llama’s are an endangered species. When I told some mates this story on the bus a few weeks ago, I laughed so much I could barely speak.  They didn’t. Continue reading