Adventures of Autism Momma

Welcome to episode number something something in Julee’s glamorous business travel adventures:

I’m from a small town, so you won’t catch me poo pooing other small towns. Let’s just say I know what it’s like to drive 45 minutes to a movie theater. As for this town in Iowa (does it really matter which one?), I’ll get straight to the point and summarize what I’ve seen so far with this pic below.

Don’t be jealous, I’m only here overnight. But I did want to share my dinner with you. No, I really did want to share my dinner with you. I eat pretty well on my trips, and tonight was no exception. I had the prime rib. It happened to be on a bun. With fries. And ketchup. Prime rib is prime rib I say. Delicioso.

We ate at the best dive, and my dinner was huge and included some sort of shake/cookie/peanut butter dessert. Nummy. Unfortunately for my fries, fry sauce is a Utah thing (so I hear anyway. I mean, has nobody ever mixed ketchup, mayonnaise, and mustard together outside the state?).

Yeah, when all is said and done (and eaten) I’ll sum it up this way: Before I got here, I knew very little about Iowa –and I will leave–knowing very little about Iowa. Except that prime rib can be eaten on a bun. And that Iowa is really, really close to Illinois.

Speaking of ketchup, I’m sitting here at my hotel watching An American Warewolf in London. . .in Iowa. At least they’ve bleeped out the swear words in the Syfy. “Beware the moon lads. . .”

My baby Harrison (who is 5 yo) has been really sick. You know, the kind where you can’t get the fever down to keep the water down to keep the medicine down to bring the fever down? Where you think he might be sick enough to take him to the doctor, but you know they’ll look at him and say, “Yeah, he’s got the flu. Go ahead and take him home.” Where he wants you there to hold his hand, and when he falls asleep you try to pry yourself up to get fresh ice packs to stick under his armpits? Where you put the tiny mattress on your floor for him so he can be close, but he wants you to be next to him on the floor. That kind of sick.

A Slurpee and a barf bucket. Good times.

Well, this morning he’s feeling better–a whole-lot better. Guess how I know. Here’s a sample of the “mini-rave” he had in the car on the way home from dropping the other boys at school (a 25-minute ride, keep in mind). I’ve typed it as one run-on paragraph purposely, mostly because he barely took a breath between sentences:

Harrison:“Mom, I’ve had 12 sips [Slurpee]. Well, maybe 10 sips. There’s a bird. I like birds, but I don’t like pigeons, well I don’t know. The cool thing about pigeons is that they can poop where they want. It’s kind of gross, but it’s kind of cool. If I was a bird I don’t know how I would remember where I lived. I want to sit on one of those wires. . .oh, there’s some more  birds. Now I’ve had 15 sips. Can you call my teacher to tell her I’m sick? But I don’t know who’s there today, she might be still sick too. Someone in my class has a guinea pig, but I can’t remember who.  I think Skylar might have a guinea pig; no, actually I don’t know who has a guinea pig. The sun is bright. It’s brighter when it’s smaller. There are lots of clouds though. That’s just weird. . .

And if you think that’s cute, you should hear his little voice. It’s less than 30 seconds, but I’m hoping you smile as widely as I did–click here: Harrison

And the laughing, the giggling. . .yep. He’s back. Love it.