My Boy The Schmoozer

Diego asked me if he could send someone an email this evening. He said he was learning to write letters in school and this would be good practice. When I asked him who he wanted to email, his response was, "You, Mom."
Here's the email he sent:

I love you so much.I hope you are having a good day.I like what you make me in the mornings.I hope you are going to have a good day tomorrow.I think you are having a good day today.I enjoy seeing you every day.If I have the Wii tomorrow and if I have 30 min.I will let you play cars with me.I bet you will like it do you?I will see you in the morning. after I send this message can I play fun brain for a while yes or no?once again I hope you are having a good day.


Sincerely,
Diego

p.s.I will go get a popsicle right now. Thank you for letting me play the wii today.

What a schmoozer!

What's in that blanket? Wipe that smirk off your face!

The other night Diego was having a hard time staying in bed (see my previous post, Full Moon).

On his second trip down the stairs Diego said, "Okay, Mom, you caught me. I had these toys under my bed and I'm going to take care of them in the basement." He had a backpack full of plastic animals in his right hand and his "Cars" fleece blanket in his left.

Diego went to the basement and was there for a bit longer than I thought it should take him to drop the toys and come back upstairs. When he emerged from the basement door he had his "Cars" blanket bundled against his chest, holding it tightly with both hands - like it was really heavy.

Naturally I asked what was in the blanket? "Nothing," was the reply. I asked again, "Are you sure there's nothing inside the blanket?" "No, nothing," as a red Lightning McQueen car fell from the blanket's fold onto the floor.

"Hmmm, looks like something to me," I said. "That was the only one," the look on his face was like he couldn't believe one of his favorite toys would betray him like that.

I told him, "If there's nothing else in the blanket, drop it right now." Diego didn't want to do that. See, the bright orange "Bob the Builder" lunch bag that holds his Cars contains almost 75 matchbox size cars and weighs around 10 pounds... it could break a toe!

Diego was busted, he had to reveal the lunchbox and take the Cars back to the basement.

It was one of those parenting moments where you're angry because your kid just lied to you. The mind is buzzing with possible punishments for lying (he lost TV for the next day). However, if your husband is seated behind the child stifling a laugh, all you want to do is yell, "Wipe that smirk off your face!" This is serious stuff. And then you burst out laughing too... parenting 101 didn't teach this.

Full Moon

Diego is always affected by the moon's phases, the full moon is probably the worst for him. In case you haven't noticed, the last couple of nights the sky has been occupied by a full moon.
I recently read the book "The Moon Children". Here's a description from amazon.com:
"Staring across the street, eleven-year-old Billy Ray is startled to see one of his schoolmates, an adopted Romanian girl, gazing at the sky and then writing in a notebook. She is keeping a Moon Journal, cataloging the phases of the moon to keep alive a secret memory that, eventually, Billy is the first to discover.

Although he has Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder and struggles with many things that typical kids take for granted, Billy's curiosity and warmth intrigue Natasha, and the two children develop a friendship that gives them the strength and courage to reveal their deepest secrets and to reach for their dreams.

One of Billy's dreams is to enter a talent contest at the local park. He has been practicing yo-yo tricks over and over again, hoping to impress his father. Things don't turn out as planned, but under unfair circumstances that would make other children give up, Billy proves himself to be a steadfast example of the way hope elicits the power to carry on."


I found Diego in this book. And I found a deeper understanding of his disorder.