Worst. Pain. EVER!

The bad back. . .I will never joke about it again!

It has often been written that to be a mom means no time off. . .no vacations, no sick days, and yes, we smile wry grins and keep on going. Until we break something. So, on the mend, but OMG what a forenight!

So, sensing weakness in the Rainmom- the darlings decide to have a bit of fun pushing the enevelope. . .and paid accordingly. Like when I hobbled up the steps to the 17 year old darling's room, after being told it was clean before he went to YET another function to find the Dead Marshes in my house, complete with dead clothing (ripped, dirty, not put away). . .score 1 week of hard labor under my watchful eye starting today. He is in the garage ostensibly doing the "prep" work for the big clean. . .yeah

My frustration with my son's autism therapy program is getting worse, and yesterday with the final straw. Long story short- the new regime wants warm bodies, not quality therapists, so the current "warm body" on my son's team is an umm, UNDERMOTIVATED to the point of catatonia human, with Zero initiative. When I am backon my feet, the fur will fly. . .a (Lack of)Progress review at the end of this month will be BIG FUN for my senior therapist! NOT!

I will explain the rise and fall of the best autism program ever next, but for now, I leave you with this, it works, even for Jews:) ;

The Special Mother by Erma Bombeck
Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressure and a couple by habit.This year nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of handicapped children. Did you ever wonder how these mothers are chosen?
Somehow I visualize God hovering over EarthSelecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to take notes in a giant ledger."Armstrong, Beth, son. Patron Saint, Matthew.""Forrest, Marjorie, daughter. Patron Saint, Celia.""Rutledge, Carrie, twins. Patron Saint...give her Gerard. He's used to profanity."Finally he passes a name to an angel and smiles. "Give her a handicapped child."The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy.""Exactly," smiles God. "Could I give a handicapped child a mother who knows no laughter? That would be cruel.""But does she have the patience?" asks the angel."I don't want her to have too much patience, or she'll drown in a sea of self-pity and despair.
Once the shock and resentment wear off she'll handle it.""I watched her today. She has that sense of self and independence so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I'm going to give her has a world of it's own. She has to make it live in her world, and that's not going to be easy.""But Lord, I don't think she even believes in you." God smiles. "No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness."The angel gasps, "Selfishness? Is that a virtue?"God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally, she will never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect.She doesn't know it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a spoken word.She will never consider a step ordinary. When her child says momma for the first time, she will be witness to a miracle and know it.
I will permit her to see clearly the things I see--ignorance, cruelty, prejudice--and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life Because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side.""And what about her Patron Saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in the air. God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."