The Economy

It seems that everywhere you look there are examples of just how crumby the economy has gotten. A sad reminder that nothing is permanent, that there are no guarantees. Unfortunately, a program for which I have a lot of respect and a lot of passion about might be on the chopping block, due to cuts in the budgets. Both of my sons attended the Northern Utah Autism Program (NUAP) during their preschool years. I would have to say that I credit them with the major successes we've had with our boys.
L. was not speaking, was not potty trained, and exhibited some very destructive behaviors when we began their program. I can't say what would have happened without their guidance, and training. I can tell you what would have happened to H. though. H. didn't speak either. The public school systems Head Start Program tested him and found that he was eligible for their serves and for a time a speech therapist was coming to our house to work with him. She was excellent. The time came when he was old enough to go to preschool.
I could see right away that he didn't fit in with the other children. He couldn't obey simple commands, he couldn't sit still at circle time, and he didn't communicate like the other children. I did, however, have the ability to see that he was an intelligent child. Head Start sadly, did not have that ability. After several months they told me that they felt he belonged with the mentally retarded children in a separate preschool away from the normal kids. H. was on the waiting list for NUAP at the time and by a miracle, we got the call that they had room for him and would take him.
Within six months he was speaking, potty trained, and his attention skills had drastically improved. Because of NUAP he was able to go on to a regular school and be mainstreamed into a normal classroom setting. I can't say that he doesn't still have a few struggles, but we've been very blessed with excellent and patient teachers who work with him tirelessly. I really in my heart of hearts believe that without NUAP he never would have made it this far.
I told his teacher this story, getting teary eyed as I recounted it. She was stunned, knowing him now, that they ever would have suggested that he be put in with the mentally handicapped children in preschool. The fact is he reads on a higher level than the other children his age, he spells like a champ, and he isn't too shabby at math either. What's most important to me is that both of my sons are able to experience their full potential. Even if for L. that isn't on the same level as his brother, I want them to be all they can be.
NUAP was a big part of helping them achieve that potential that was locked away. I owe so much to them. Now I see that program in jeopardy and it makes me feel so sad for the parents and children who's quality of living hangs by a thread. I hope for them that the states sees what a valuable asset they are and continues to provide funding.

Christmas Vacation

It is nearly Christmas. This is a good thing. For the past month L. says "Tomorrow is Christmas!" and we have to remind him that it's not. We show him the calender and count down the days with him. Funny thing is, he thinks that by marking off the days himself that will make those days just disappear. He does the same thing at school with his schedule. He tries to rearrange the sequence or takes things off he doesn't want to do. If only that were an option!
Last Friday was his last day for two weeks, so comes the daunting task of trying to keep him occupied until he goes back to school. We got him Jungle Book 2, which I think is a really annoying and very ill thought out movie, but he loves it. So now the other children are bummed because that's all he wants to watch. I feel for them, I don't really care for the movie myself.
What's up with Disney putting out all of these cheap sequels, with bad animation and cheesy catch phrases, that have the same basic plot, with a few token songs, slapping their name on it and selling it for the full price? Desperate parents (such as myself), who jump at any family movie that is released because there are so few that come out unless it's Thanksgiving or Christmas, must settle for an inferior product. Look at me, I'm grudgingly one of them.
Anyhow, L. is perfectly happy with it but the rest of us are near to mad. Just think another week and a half of it! Actually, we are being very brave this year and trying for an over night visit to Grandma and Grandpa's house. L. does not like sleeping anywhere that isn't home, so we are a little worried, but hopefully it will work out. And just in case it doesn't, I'm sure we'll bring along Jungle Book 2 to calm him if need be.

School Notes Home

Each day when my son L. gets home, I grab his backpack first thing and rummage through it for his notebook. This notebook dates to the beginning of the year when his teacher Mrs. R. started sending notes home on his progress and little things that happen during the day that I might have an interest in. Some days say he's had a good day, was cooperative, did his work, etc. Some days aren't so great. He was stubborn, refused to follow his schedule, etc.
The entries that I like best are the ones that tell me a little story about some funny thing he did that day. For instance, he said he wanted to play doctor. The teacher's assistant cheerfully agreed, even after L. said he was going to give her a shot. Well, the poor woman got the shock of her life when he stuck her with a straight pin. Not that I'm laughing at her misfortune, but for some reason this really made me laugh. The other day a little girl in his class had a birthday party. He promptly ate the piece of cake he was given and then went over to her and opened his mouth wide and tried to get her to feed him her cake.
His teacher Mrs. R. said that one day a child in her class was having a melt down, L. tried to push them aside and as he said, "I'll deal with this." Apparently he thought he could do better. So while I cringe at the entries that state he had a bad day, I find great joy in the little laughs I get from the other stories I get to read.

Halloween

L. went as spaghetti and meatballs this year for Halloween. He mostly did well and had fun. However, when he was done, he was done. He got in the van and cried because he thought his little sister should be in her car seat. Every time I tried to take a picture he would see the flash go off and immediately move. My camera always catches him blinking, or making a face, or moving, or walking away. I managed to get a few shots of him though. He is actually really excited about holidays now. I'm so glad, because now the other children can have a semi-normal experience too. They all looked so cute dressed up, with their bags, eagerly anticipating each candy that got put in their bags.

He seems to be doing so much better and understanding so much more than he did before. This is something we discussed on Halloween with his teachers and principal during a parent teacher conference and an IEP update. They have noticed the change in L. as well. He is not as angry and he is communicating more. That's not to say that all of our problems are solved, but it sure seems like cake after some of the things my husband and I have been through over the last few years. I thank God every day that he seems to be getting a little better. I know that it is through help from those around me that we have accomplished so much with him. I consider it nothing less than a miracle.

Vacation

For the past two weeks I have been in Cambodia. After serious debate, my husband and I decided that we should not attempt taking the younger children with us. We had visions of L. throwing a tantrum on the airplane, having them drop us off somewhere in Asia with no way of getting back. Besides which, it is torture for L. to not have his own bed, and be in his own element. So we chose to have my two sisters stay with the children at our home while we were gone.
L. was perfectly content with the set up. As a matter of fact, I sincerely doubt that he even missed us while we were gone, most likely favoring my sisters over me. There was little more than one small incident during our absence. Apparently L. decided to cut his hair. He was suppose to be in bed, which is usually when he decides to do something naughty. He felt that he needed a trim and cut his hair. My sister said that he came down stairs with his hair completely hacked up in what resembled the mange. She burst out laughing. She said that L. was grinning ear to ear, pleased with the fact that she was experiencing so much mirth over his self make over.
The next day he went to school like that, as there were no beauty salons open so early in the morning. The teacher said that she and the aids got a good laugh out of it too. He got his hair buzzed that afternoon when he came home from school. I count myself lucky in that that was the only mishap during out two week leave.

Birthday

L. had a birthday just a few days ago. I think it was the first time he really understood what it was all about. A week or so before I said to him that his birthday was coming up and he shocked his father and I by stating the day, month, and YEAR he was born. I don't recall ever telling him that he was born in 1999. Weird that he somehow knew. All he wanted, as usual, was a Buzz Lightyear. (Does every autistic kid on the planet love that guy or what?) We got him a few things and I tried to hide them in my closet. This is something else he has never done before, he snooped around until he found where his presents were and then he opened all of them before the big unveiling at the party.
My parents and two of my sisters came to have cake and sing to him. He seemed very pleased with the whole affair. I was really excited that he got into it so much. L. is beginning to come out of his shell a little and act a little more like a child. He knew that the day was about him, that it was his birthday, that the cake was in his honor. It was a thrill.

Little Sister

L. has been fiercely loyal to, and inseparable from his baby sister from the moment she was born. When we brought her home from the hospital for the first time he was completely and totally enamored with her. Since then he remains very over protective to the point of being a tad obsessive. It was difficult to explain to friends and family when they wanted to hold the newborn and he would throw a fit and tell them to give her back to mommy. This included grandparents. They would hold her and dote over her and he would cry and try and take her away from them.
As the years have gone by, three to be exact, he is not as bad about it as he use to be. L. is still very protective of her but not to the point that he won't let others touch her now. However, if I have to take hers with me and he isn't going he gets upset, even to the point of tears. So the other night when she fell off of the bunk bed and had to be taken to the emergency room for stitches, there was some high drama.
My husband, who hands blood, needles, gore, and the likes, much better than I do took her to the hospital. I'm sure that with all of the frightened shrieks coming from me, L. wasn't exactly sure what was going on, but he was upset, and even more so when my husband left with his baby sister. He stood at the window for hours whaling, "My daddy, my baby, come back." To see his innocence and his pure love for that little girl not only makes me happy but at times like that it breaks my heart. I want to explain to him what's happening but he can't understand.
After awhile, he eventually fell asleep, as they were out quite late. But the next morning he was so pleased to see her. Such a tender moment for such a big hulking kid like him.

Movie Parrot

There is nothing like when L. repeats something he's heard from a movie in public, when no one else knows what he is talking about. For instance, my husband and I took the family along with my husband's brother out to dinner the other night. As we sat in the crowded restaurant L. says, rather loudly, "Shut up and eat your garbage!" Overhearing that little remark may have made others wonder what kind of a mother would say such a thing to her son, for surely he learned if from someone. It was actually complements of Ratatouille, the Disney movie. He also likes to say, "BUGS!! BUGS!!" when he eats, thanks to an episode Buzz Lightyear of Star Command, another of Disney's finest. I'm sure that the proprietors of the establishment we are eating at appreciate the fact that he is yelling bugs for everyone to hear.

Then there's always the, "You'll never take me again." Don't know what that's from, but it's fun to explain that I'm not kidnapping him, he is actually my son. From Jumanji he got the phrase, "I'm never talking to you again!" which he generally uses in the heat of battle. Lately he's been on a Robin Hood kick. He uses a towel to fan whatever is cooking for dinner at the time and he says, "You're burning the grub, Sunshine." At least I can laugh at that one. His capacity to recall lines from any and every movie he's ever seen is amazing. He's like a little movie parrot, ready to repeat anything that might be offensive, rebellious, or down right funny. It is a constant source of amusement for us.

Some of our other favorites:

"You're breaking ranks, Major... or should I say traitor!" Toy Story 2
"For heaven sakes, let him go. Let him go!" Robin Hood
"Can't you stay?" Series of Unfortunate Events (He says this as he's pushing someone out the door)
"Listen here, pussy cat." Tom and Jerry
"I've had it with you and your emotional constipation!" Tarzan

The Haircut

L. has always hated haircuts with a passion. I think it must be a sensory thing. The clippers make that buzzing sound and it really bothers him. His brother H. is much the same. It has been a real struggle to keep them properly groomed because we put the haircuts off until it is absolutely necessary. Lately, and I say this with a great deal of gratitude in my heart, they have both been much better about it.
So it was quite a surprise to me when L. said he wanted a haircut. But then he specified that he wanted a "Buzz Lightyear" haircut. Who knows what the heck Buzz Lightyear's hair looks like? I mean he's always wearing that helmet of his. I thought maybe L. had heard the term "buzz cut" and thought it meant Buzz Lightyear. Anyhow, not one to argue with the kid when he wants something I want for him, I took him to get his haircut. He made it through about halfway, and then began to fidget and get annoyed.
He says "All done now!" and he wants up. With much persuading he managed stay in the seat until she was finished. Then he tells me that he wants a Buzz Lightyear and Lenny. It was then that I understood that he wanted me to go buy him a Buzz Lightyear in exchange for getting his haircut, because apparently that's what his father got him the last time he had to get his haircut. Let me tell you something, it is totally worth bribery if he does something he detests so very much without throwing a royal tantrum. I was more than willing to oblige him.

Home Lunch vs. School Lunch

I generally pack home lunch for my kids. Just your average PB&J, chips, fruit or veggie, and a juice. I like to mix it up with a slice of homemade bannana bread, freshly baked brownies, you know that sort of thing, to make myself feel like a decent mom every now and then. Lunches are especially good if I am doing penance for something. Anyway, the other day L. was throwing a monster of a fit because he didn't want to take his lunch. I finally slipped it into his backpack without him noticing and he got on the bus without any further disturbance.
When I picked him up from school that afternoon, the teacher tells me that for some reason he just wouldn't leave that lunch alone. They stuck it in the basket with all of the other home lunches and went about there business. But every time they turned around his lunch had some how landed in the trashcan. They would fish it out, stick it back in the basket, only to find it within the confines of the trashcan yet again just a short while later. For some reason, he just didn't want that lunch. The teacher commented on how sneaky and covert he was about the whole thing, waiting until the coast was clear and then quickly tossing it, no one the wiser until they noticed that it was missing again.
Why was he pitching his lunch into the trashcan all day long? L. simply wanted the chicken sandwich that they were having for school lunch that day. He ended up crying out, "Chicken, please!" They have chicken sandwiches there every day so the next day, I wisely did not pack home lunch. I let him eat school lunch. Now how will I console myself when I want to feel like I'm a good mom?

Another One Off To School

Monday was L.'s first day of school. He was against it for the first part of the morning. I tried to tell him the bus was coming and that he would see his teacher. He tried to resist, and then, just like that, he decided he wanted to go and went out to wait at the corner as if the start of our morning were a distant memory. When he was at school they asked him to draw a picture of what he had done this summer. He drew a few pictures of some animals, and then wrote http://www.hooglezoo.org/ at the top of his page.
Every now and again he surprises me. He will hardly put words together, and only appears to drift from day to day without any recollection of what he did an hour ago, and then he comes up with a doozy that really takes you off guard. Like the time we went to the zoo and the alligator jumped out of the water and snapped a plastic ball between his massive jaws. It frightened the whole family, but especially L. Since then he refuses to go into the reptile house. Every once in a while he'll say, "The alligator bit the ball." Which goes to show you, he does remember things from yesterday, last week, and last month.
For the past three days he has gone to school without any problems at all. That is heaven.

School Starts

As I have said before, I have two children that fall on the spectrum. Well, this week my younger son H. started school again. He is now in first grade, completely main streamed and doing pretty well for a kid who didn't speak until he was four. Two years later and I am amazed by his progress. I count it as a miracle.
He still has his quirks to be sure but he is so smart. The big problem is this - he doesn't quite understand how recess works. You hear the bell, you go out and play for awhile, you hear the bell, and you go back in. He gets the going out part, it's the coming back in that seems to be his problem. Last year when he was in kindergarten he would leave the kindergarten play ground and go play on the big toys. Often times they would be searching for him, only to find him on the big kids play ground. Now that he is in the first grade and allowed to play on the big kid play ground he just doesn't come back in.
Yesterday, my husband tells him all morning, "When you hear the bell you need to come in from recess." He says it enough times that H. begins to repeat it with him. Later on that day his teacher was in the office and I asked if he had come back in when the bell rang. She smiled and shook her head no. At least she is extremely understanding about it, and seems to take it all in stride. Apparently, he also was insulted by her snacks. She offered him pretzels and he scowled at her and asked her what was up with that. (He doesn't like pretzels.)
It's quite honestly like having a little Kramer from Seinfeld on our hands. He makes some pretty outrageous faces, he jerks and acts shocked over the littlest things, he lets you know when he doesn't like something, even if it's socially taboo, and he's kinda spacey. But oh how we laugh.

My Photos Keep Disappearing

I don't know why. It makes no sense to me. But then it must make some sort of sense to him. L. will not leave my framed family photos alone. I have them neatly adorning the top of my piano with a lovely vase of flowers. I go in, they are there, arranged artfully along the top ledge. I leave the room and come back and they are nowhere to be found. He keeps hiding them in different locations too, to throw me off the trail.
Just why do those photos bug him so badly I'll never know. Every time I find them and go to put them back, he protests. "Put it back!" he says. One of his weird, quirky habits like stuffing toys in any hole he can find. It use to disturb me when he took his Winnie the Pooh and slammed his head shut in the oven. Until we discovered he was just re-enacting the cartoon where Pooh gets stuck in Rabbit's hole.
It didn't end there. At school, a few years ago, he found a whole in the wall where the door knob had banged one too many times. He shoved all sorts of things in there. His aid Adrienne thought it was so funny when they finally patched it up. She said that when they demolish that building years from now, they will discover in the rubble all of those toys he stuffed in there. Maybe they'll be collectors items then?

The Terrible Incident of the Boy at the Zoo

As I have mentioned before, our family frequents the zoo on a very regular basis. It is one of the few things that we can do as a family. We have gone so far as to invest in the annual pass, and go winter, spring, summer, or fall. On Saturday we decided to go, so we packed the family up and drove the half an hour to get there.

L. was really off. I realized to late that we had neglected to give him his medication. That's something we don't forget very often, because it tends to have disastrous consequences. The further we progressed through the park, the worse he got. We made it to the carousel, which he normally enjoys. But the second they started the ride up, he tried to bale. I mean he was whining and saying he wanted off, and kept trying to stand up, which of course I wouldn't let him do. I threatened him with leaving if he didn't straighten up, and he didn't.

Once we got off of the carousel, I told my husband that we should head back to the van, that I had told L. if he didn't shape up we couldn't stay. That's when the real fireworks began. We tried to leave the zoo and he had a complete break down. L. tried to bite, pinch, scratch, and mortally wound my husband. He was screaming and crying and fighting us. There we were with four children, one of which is the size of an adult and temper tantruming, half way to the car, with no idea how we were going to get him out of there.

It is very difficult having a child like L. You love him very much, you want the best for him. He is your child, your flesh and blood. While it was very embarrassing to have him behave that way in public, the worst part is the judgement past upon you by total strangers. Everyone stopped what they were doing and just stared. For that moment in time I understood how the animals must feel, in their cages, being gawked at by all of those people. At some point someone called security. They must have thought we were either harming him or kidnapping him. We had to follow through on our threat, so we just continued to try and get him out of there.

The man wearing the red shirt with SECURITY boldly printed on it at least kept some well meaning individuals from approaching us. He was able to help my husband get our son to the parking lot where I had pulled the van up to the curb. To be honest I am completely surprised we didn't make the evening news. It was quite a disturbance. By the time it was over my husband and I were completely drained. I wondered too, how it had affected the other children. I guess you win some and you loose some. But boy it hurts to loose.

The next day my husband 'climbed back on the horse' so to speak and took L. back by himself to the zoo, to show L. that if he behaved he could stay at the zoo. The biggest surprise of all was that he got L. to ride one of the animals on the carousel that moves up and down. To this date he had only ridden on the stationary ones. I could have fallen over from shock when he showed me the picture of our son, grinning broadly as he sat upon the lion.

Michael Savage Speaks Out Against Autism

The newest flake to become an expert on autism, Michael Savage, shock jock, that makes his money disparaging others. Not such a stretch that he felt compelled to slander mentally handicapped children who can not speak for themselves. Savage recently shared his thoughts on autism on a broadcast that aired July 16th, claiming that children with autism were "frauds", and that their parents were perpetuaters of the lie.
Somehow Michael Savage has found the answer to the question that all of us as parents with children who suffer from this disability have so earnestly sought after. He knows what autism is, what causes it, as he disclosed on his show last week. "I'll tell you what autism is. In 99 percent of the cases, it's a brat who hasn't been told to cut the act out. That's what autism is. What do you mean they scream and they're silent? They don't have a father around to tell them, 'Don't act like a moron. You'll get nowhere in life. Stop acting like a putz. Straighten up. Act like a man. Don't sit there crying and screaming, idiot." From the mouth of Michael Savage. All I needed to do was berate, ridicule, and yell at my son and he would have been normal. No pill, no diet, no therapy required. So simple, how did I not see it?
And why do I want my son to have autism so badly? Well, for the money of course. Mr. Savage believes that parents who claim their children have autism somehow benefit from it. It's "a fraud, a racket"... "the illness du jour". After waiting for two years to get government assistance for my son's medical bills, I have been told that this is the year. This is the year that I might receive help for the medication that must be purchased every month, for the dental bills that are piling up, for the many needs of a boy who is suffering from autism. This for a child who we cannot get insurance for because he suffers from a 'pre-existing condition'. All this time I have been banking on the dough rolling in, willing to put up with a son who is ostracized for his behaviors, forgoing public appearances, allowing my family to become dysfunctional, and I haven't seen a dime. I would like to file a formal complaint because, apparently all of these other people who have children with autism are getting their financial gain.
Well, Michael Savage, for saying something so completely insensitive, so socially taboo, so completely foolish, I'm wondering if you've ever considered being tested for autism? If you loose your job, perhaps the government could support you.

The Band Aid

Several months ago, L. skinned his nose when he fell from the front porch steps and biffed it on the concrete driveway. He has a pretty high pain tolerance, which has at times been a good thing, at other times a real problem. The thing is when he skinned his nose he insisted on wearing a band aid. Not to inconspicuous right there on his face. My husband and I attempted to put it across the tip of his nose, but he didn't want it that way. He wanted it front and center. The band aid was vertical right straight down the length of his nose.

Try explaining this to curious onlookers in public. It didn't end there. Whenever we tried to take it off he would freak out. We had to sneak in at night, while he was asleep, and remove it because it began to make a sore on his forehead where the adhesive from the band aid was beginning to pull at his skin. It finally somehow healed on its own. Band aids are the bane of my existence. I find them everywhere, stuck to the hard wood floors, stuck in the carpet, stuck on blankets, stuck in hair. Any time there is the slightest hint of a boo boo it requires a band aid. We have tried to hide them to no avail. Much like the scissors they just seem to be found, no matter where you tuck them away.

New Controversy

Here's a new controversial study they would like to do on children with autism. They say that they would like to detoxify children with autism, buy removing metals from their systems. Why is it a controversy? Because there is no proof that is is mercury that is causing autism, and because it could be potentially harmful with the side affects. They are horrified at the thought that children would be used in the study.
I hate to break it to you, but children with autism are nothing more than lab rats. It's been this way for years. There are no proven treatments for autism and so they try and address the symptoms with medication that is not for their autism but for the problems that come along with it. For instance, after several years of trying to deal with my son with out medication, his aggressions became concerning enough that we caved. He is now on a medication for schizophrenia. It works in helping to subdue his violence and so we are forced to use it. There are also medications for hyperactivity that have been beneficial to children with autism. How did they discover these medications were useful? THEY TESTED THEM OUT. I'm not particularly thrilled at the prospect of testing, but what choice is there?
Part of the problem with autism is the unknown. There isn't enough research and we don't really know for certain what causes it and so we have to try things we haven't tried yet. I'm all for research being done as long as it is not harmful to children. It's sort of a necessary evil. As long as they aren't doing frontal lobotomies, or anything crazy like that, please find something that will help these children. You decided for yourself.
http://www.comcast.net/articles/news-national/20080708/MED.Autism.Research/

The Tricylce

I could not imagine trying to teach my chunky son how to ride a bicycle. As a matter of fact, I don't like to say things are impossible, but I think this would be close to impossible. So I looked into getting him a tricycle. I'm not talking one of those little kiddie ones. That would not do. I'm talking an adult size tricycle. I looked into them and even though they are a little expensive, I think it would be worth it. Not to mention it has a HUGE basket on the back, that you could carry some large size items in. Maybe he would be willing to tote me around in that basket, or at least his baby sister and the cats, Tom and Jerry.
Talk about payback, though. When I was younger, my family and I lived in a very small community called Gaston. Gaston had one gas station, a small market place that sold some basics in an old building, a library the size of my closet, and well, that was basically it. So everyone knew everyone. One of the town locals, someone that everybody waved at when the saw him, was an older gentleman that rode around that little town on his tricycle. Something very similar to what I'm looking to get for my son. I thought it was so funny. There he was peddling the streets of Gaston on this giant tricycle. Mind you, I never made fun of him, just had a little chuckle at his expense when I saw him.
Never laugh, people. It has a way of really biting you in the butt at some future date in time.

Halloween?

L. started extended summer school on Tuesday. I was glad. He gets so bored at home, and a half day of stimulation does him good. Anyway, that morning I made sure he had taken his medication, had breakfast, and his back pack was out. The thing I did not bank on was that he would decide he wanted it to be Halloween. He came downstairs in his caveman costume that I had sewn for him several years ago. A costume, I might add, that he refuse to wear that year. In the mean time he has discovered The Flintstones, and he thinks the caveman costume looks like Fred.
He has the costume on and he says, "Wilma I'm home!" and it sounds just like Fred, I tell you.
Not that I care too much what other people think. At this point I'm beyond redemption, if you know what I mean. So I said to him that we should take the costume off, but he didn't want to.
He told me it was Halloween. I tried to explain that Halloween does not come in July. He continued to believe that it was Halloween. I figured no amount of insisting was going to change his mind, and envisioning the tantrum that would ensue, decided not to push it. When the bus arrived, my little Fred Flintstone climbed on, as happy as a clam and sat down in the seat next to the window, smiling from ear to ear as they pulled away. I can't help but marvel at how simple a thing as a caveman costume can put him on cloud nine. His innocents and joy in living always leaves me in awe.

Meat On My Mind

I found out this evening that one of my children accidentally left the freezer door slightly ajar on Sunday night. AAAAAH! What with the warm weather (or should I say hot), it defrosted quite quickly. A task that I have been meaning to do, but keep putting off. So this evening I spent my time cooking 12 lbs. of chicken, an 8 lb ham, and 6 tubes of sausage. I got chicken breasts, taco flavored chicken, BBQ chicken, diced ham, sliced ham, etc., etc. Needless to say, I won't have to cook for a month. In order to save it, I cooked it, and then refroze most of it.
My husband was once a manager at a restaurant. He still has his trusty meat thermometer and he went through all of it, testing the temperature to make sure that it hadn't gotten too warm. All of it was salvageable, which I guess was the silver lining. There were other items that didn't fare too well that had to be gotten rid of so I should count my blessings.
Vegetarians beware. If you are offended by this blog I apologized, but at this point I'm so sick of cooking meat, I'm tempted to join you in your crusade! The funny thing is, my son L., which I have previously mentioned, likes to repeat things from shows was jumping up and down, chanting, "I love to eat," from Elmo's World. At least someone appreciates me.