Teaganisms - Take 6

The morning Teagan turned 9 years old, I was showing Teagan photos of himself throughout the years, from the day he was born until now, and he said, "Awww... I was such a cute baby."  And of course, I agreed.  Then we went to the next photo and he said, "Still cute."  And the next one, "Still cute."  And the next, "Yep, I'm still cute." ROFL

Teagan was taking off his shirt one day, and he was having some trouble so he got his head stuck inside.  I hear from within the confines of his shirt, "Man, it smells gnarly in here!"  I started laughing, and once he got his shirt off, he came over to have me nasally inspect his armpits.  Trust me, it was definitely gnarly in there.  ROFLMAO

A few days before Halloween, Teagan and I were discussing carving up some pumpkins for Jack-O-Laterns, and he had this to say: "We could just poke holes into the pumpkins to make them like Swiss cheese.  And then we could put a Swiss candle in there."  And to that, I asked, "What is a Swiss candle?"  And he says, "You jam a candle in a piece of Swiss cheese, then put it in the pumpkin."  So, naturally, I asked, "What is a Swiss knife?"  To which he responds, "You jam a knife into a piece of Swiss cheese, and it makes a Swiss knife.  We could put the Swiss knife into the Swiss candle and put them in the pumpkin!"  Sure we could.  LOL


Teagan and I were playing Kirby's Epic Yarn, and he was upset because he couldn't do this one thing, so he said, "You cheat!"  And I asked how?  He said, "All the time on repeat and continuous games."  I asked how I cheated?  He said, "You are full of cheatingness."  Of course I am.  ROFL


Near our house is a car repair and lube shop.  In the parking lot, they have a car turned upside down on its roof.  One day, as we passed by, Teagan says, "Mommy, when the van stops working, can we turn it upside down?"  I said, "Teagan, with me, you, daddy, mamaw and papaw, we wouldn't be able to flip it over.  The car weighs like 1,000 pounds."  And he said, "Well, we need to find a man or woman who weighs 1,000 pounds and have them flip it."  What logic!  LOL

Autistic Anger - The Final Frontier

     *sigh*  Well, it's been awhile my AOTA victims, and there's really no valid excuse for it, other than we have been dealing with the mother of all mood swings this last month and a half.  It really has been a nightmare.  Constant anger, hatefulness, violent acting out... it's enough for me to want to be sedated.

     It took us four months to find a new therapist, and after one session with the therapist, Teagan, and I, then a second session with just the therapist and I, the therapist tells me, "You need to help him get his behavior under control before a therapist will be able to deal with his other issues."  Are you f*cking kidding me?  His behavior is WHY we are looking for a therapist.  What the hell are doctors good for if they don't do what they are supposed to do?  It is so f*cking frustrating.  I hate the medical profession, or at least everyone we have dealt with these long, 9 years.
     The therapist's suggestion was to try intensive in-home therapy again.  Now, I haven't regaled you all with my horror stories of our intensive in-home therapy debacle.  In September 2008, Teagan qualified for intensive in-home therapy.  We were so excited, but also very busy at that time, so the in-home sessions actually occurred at my mother's house, because she picked him up from school while we both worked, and we would stop by for the tail-end of the sessions once we got off work.  But, like I said, we were hopeful that this was going to help us develop some new much-needed parenting skills to help deal with disciplining Teagan, as well as just general skills such as public behavior control, etc.  This program was supposed to last a maximum of six months.  Now, the specifics were, three  different therapists, three times a week, every week for six months. 
     Obviously, if I described this point in our life as a horror story, it wasn't how it was supposed to be.  It started out all right.  But about a month into it, we lost one of the therapists, either by dismissal or quitting, we never knew.  Then about a month later, we lost another one.  So now we were down to one therapist, who wanted to focus on marriage counseling, more than parenting.  And then around January 2009, right about the time I was laid off from my job, we lost our remaining therapist.  It was about a month or two before we got another one, and she lasted for exactly one session.  We found out later than the one male therapist we had, who Teagan responded to so favorably that I threatened to kidnap him and take him home with us, because he could get Teagan to do things we never could, had actually had visa issues.  He was from Peru. 
     So, off and on, we struggled getting a therapist, then finally about mid-summer, we got the perfect therapist.  And she stayed!  But we weren't getting the three times per week with three therapists were supposed to, but she did come 2-3 times per week, which was good enough for us.  But then Teagan's hours got cut, and we were moved from intensive in-home therapy to community support, though the "community" part was a joke.  The therapist never took him out into the community, so it was just another lie.  This therapy nightmare finally ended in October 2009, and we swore we would never again put our entire family through it.  It was inconvenient, frustrating, and a complete waste of time.  That is not to say that it wouldn't work for other people with other agencies, but this one (I will not name it, I don't even want to taste the words) was a terrible joke.
     So, here we are, still without a therapist, but there is a little hope.  Part of the school program Teagan is in for behavior, requires all children to attend periodic individual and group therapy sessions, with family sessions optional, which of course, we participate in.  I met with the school therapist about two weeks after I learned we had lost another private therapist, and told her our woes.  She gave me some suggestions, but before I could try any of them, the next day, she met me in Teagan's classroom as I was picking him up, and said that she had spoken to the director, and the director had agreed to sit in with the therapist, Teagan, and I, so she could provide him with more in-depth therapy.  How relieved are we?

Having Lice for a Minute

     So, I haven't told this story yet, but it just reaffirms my hatred of all things educational.  (Please see my 5 past posts about "Hatred of all Things... Educational" for some insight to my opinion about the North Carolina school system.) 

     Teagan's school had scheduled for his class to attend a ball game of the local baseball team.  Teagan had seen them before, but that was before they changed their name from the Warthogs to the Dash, and before they built the new, fancy stadium, so he was really looking forward to going, for the past two months.

     So, that morning, as we were getting ready, Teagan went into the backyard to play, which wasn't usual for him.  We don't let him play outside alone, because of the type of neighborhood we live in.  It's just not safe, and you know how protective I am of him.  He climbed into his daddy's truck, which was covered in dirt and debris, because his daddy had cleaned out the gutters the day before, and hadn't had a chance to rinse off his truck. 

     Anyway, so we took Teagan to school as normal, and his dad and I arrived back at home around 8:30am.  At 8:45am, his school calls to inform me that Teagan is "complaining about his head itching and has black specks in his hair that looks like lice eggs, but there were no visible bugs." 

     Now, for those of you who have had lice as a child or ever dug lice out of a child's hair, you know that lice eggs are white, and if there are eggs, there are bugs.  Simple as that.  So these black specks were obviously dirt from the truck. 

     So, I go to the school with his daddy, and we look over him thoroughly, but at the same time, I am telling the lady who called that it's just dirt from playing around his daddy's truck and that lice eggs are white not black, (I honestly have no idea who this woman is, but she annoys me at least once a week).  And to boot, one of these "specks" was blue.  They have Smurf Lice now?  Seriously.  She explains that she can't put the other children at risk (of what?  Catching dirt specks?  OMG), and that he has to go home.  Well, that's total BS.  So I tell her, if I get him looked at by his pediatrician, and they say that he does not have lice (which I knew damn well he didn't), can he still go to the ballgame?  She said he could, but only with a doctor's note. 

     So, here I am, it's 9:15am, trying to get Teagan into his pediatrician's office well before noon, because that is when the bus would leave for the ballgame, and also dropping his daddy off for his appointment.  We got into the pediatrician's office for a 10am, bless them (Ford, Simpson, Lively, & Rice Pediatrics if you are in the Winston-Salem area), and I tell the woeful story about morons, having lice for a minute, and how ignorance is bliss.  And the verdict is... No lice.  Duh!

     So, we rush back to the school, I take him to class, I hand the teacher the doctor's note with a look that would melt lava, and he went to the ballgame.  Freaking seriously.  Educate yourself if you are worried about childhood diseases and epidemics.  I hate the school system.

Teaganisms - Take 5

Just so you know, this is extremely embarassing for me to recount, which should show you just how much I love you all. I hope you all choke on this installment of Teaganisms. ROFL Just kidding.


So... the other morning, I was fixing my hair while wearing a tank top, and Teagan looks over, and squeals excitedly, "Mommy! Mommy! You grew armpit hair!" ROFL I said, "Errr... yeah, now I'm a big boy, go away." LOL Later on I tried to explain the mysterious act of women shaving their armpits which completely confused him, and he gave up to watch television.


There is a little girl in Teagan's school, whom I have never heard of, until the day we were passing out his birthday invitations. He said, "Oh, I need to give one to Skylar." And I'm thinking, who? So, we go across the hall, and he hands one to this cute little blonde-haired, white girl about his age. I recognized this girl, because about 15 minutes before that, the kids got off the van from a field trip, and she says to me, "Hi Teagan's mom." I said hello back, but I had no idea who this kid was, and how she knew who I was. Now I know. rofl Well, the next day, we are taking Teagan to school and trying to figure out who this Skylar girlie is and why it was so important to him to invite her to his party, even though she isn't even in his class. And he says, "Mommy, can you put me on a dating site on the internet?" And I'm like WTF? So I ask him why, and he says, "So I can learn how to be nice to girls." And of course, again, I'm like WTF? And after asking him why, he says, "Because I want to date Skylar." Well, now we all know who Skylar is. You know, he's only 9 years old. It's not like he's even pre-teen yet. We are doomed!


One morning, on the way to taking Teagan to school, my husband and I were having a conversation. I don't remember what it was about, but I do know that it wasn't about anything that came out of Teagan's mouth. He says, "I'm not old enough to choose to make out or not to make out." I said, "WHAT?" And he repeats it. Then I ask him, "What is making out?" And he says, "When you date." So, I say, "Oh, well, it's good you aren't old enough to make out then." And then he says, "I want to make out with Skylar." My husband and I nearly died of a heart attack. And then Teagan says, "We're going to go to a restaurant." So, not only is he interested in dating this Skylar, but he also has it all planned out. He is going to go on an internet dating site, for what he presumably believes is to teach him how to be nice to girls, then he is going to take her to a restaurant, then make out with her. Heaven help us!

And if it isn't bad enough he has a girlfriend... he thinks once he gives his girlfriend her birthday gift, (see photo to the left), that they will be married, and are going to move in with us. Oh... ignorance is such bliss. If he knew just what marriage was all about, he wouldn't rush into it at the ripe old age of 9.

I Survived Chuck E. Cheese...

...but just barely. 
     I love throwing birthday parties for Teagan, and over the years, we have had some really fun parties.  The best, of course, was the year we threw him a pirate party.  Every parent in attendance said it was the best party they had ever been to, and though it took three months to plan it out, Teagan got maimed, and I was nearly dead by the end of it, it was the best party ever.
     But this year, it just seemed to take a lot more out of me than usual.  Every year we have special needs children at Teagan's parties, so it definitely wasn't the fact that this year was no different that caused my extensive exhaustion.  I just think I'm getting too old for this crap. lol
     This is why I've decided, next year when Teagan turns 10 years old, that will be the last year I throw him a birthday party.  Except for when he turns 16, 18, 21, 30, and 50, of course.  That is, if I live long enough to see those years.  The rate Teagan and his daddy are going, they are going to kill me long before I get the chance.
     Well, here are the long awaited photos... actually, you only waited a little over a week for these. rofl

Teagan's Cake

Teagan's 3' Chuck E. Cheese Balloon

The table is set!

The pull-string piñata

Teagan blows out the candles!

Teagan in the ticket cyclone machine thingy. rofl 

He really cleaned up in there! 

Ended up wtih over 1400 tickets!

Teagan opens one of his gifts

Teagan getting his grin on

AARRGGHH!!! Gods, he frustates the hell out of me!

     My child, who is an angel in my heart and soul, always... is also a little destructive devil.  The night of his birthday party, he was playing with a Thor hammer that his daddy was quite proud to have bought him for his birthday.  And part of playing with toys, in Teagan's mind, is completely destroying said toy.  He removed all of the foam around the inside structure, just to see what was in it.  Of course, this is not always the case, but the last two weeks, this is what he has been doing to all of his toys.
     Another thing he does is, when he gets mad, he will throw his toys, and if they break upon impact, he immediately gets upset that he broke them.  We have tried to explain to him before that his anger caused him to throw his toy and break it, but he will always try to blame it on the parent or person who angered him.  Because, after all, had they not angered him, he wouldn't have thrown and broken his toy.  Or at least he says so.
     It's just so aggravating, because Gods know we don't have any money, so what he does have, was bought out of love and the sacrifice of a bill or a tank of gas.  And then he destroys it because he's pissed off.  Grr!
     Anybody else have this problem?  If so, please, please, PLEASE let me know what you do.  I've had enough of his destructive behavior, I swear I am about to get rid of all his stuff.

This is why I hate people...

     My beautiful, generous, loving, and overly helpful son, Teagan, was enjoying his party yesterday at Chuck E. Cheese, when a woman and her very small daughter were coming down the stairs into the party area.  They were not part of our party, but were going to sit in some booths surrounding the party tables.  Teagan immediately went to them and tried to help her small daughter down the stairs, and the lady told him, "Stop."  And he said, "I'm just trying to help her down the stairs."  Then she said again, "Stop, leave her alone."  And he said, "I'm just trying to help!"  Then, this bitch, who I swear I was about to throw down with after I heard about this situation from his girlfriend's mom, said to Teagan, "But she is MY daughter."      

     Are you f*cking kidding me?  We have encountered situations like this before, and usually if I am there, I try to get Teagan to stop being so helpful, and the parents of his intended targets are usually like, "Oh, it's okay, he's not bothering blah blah blah."  They are very gracious and kind about it.  But this woman, who looked like she had been hit in the face with a shovel and if she smiled her face would break off, was a new breed of bitch.  I was so furious about it, literally four people had to hold me back from saying something to her.

     Yes, Teagan is overly helpful to the point of annoying people, but nobody, and I mean NOBODY has ever been rude about it.  If they are not understanding, they are at least tolerant.  It just angers me so much that anybody would act that way towards my child, especially not understanding why he does the things he does.  I curse her, in the hopes she becomes the victim of a natural disaster.  Mother Nature is a bitch, too, you know.

Teaganisms - Take 4

In honor of Teagan's birthday today, I give you a Teaganisms post.  And in two weeks, a second installment for this month. 

Now, say you love me.

Teagan runs into the livingroom the other day all in an excited fit. He says, "MOMMY! MOMMY! I think I'm growing armpit hair like daddy, because I was looking at my armpits and they stink!" So then he asks for a mirror, so he can see the armpit hair, that is still non-existent. Never seen anyone so excited to reach puberty.

While eating dinner at his grandmother's house, Teagan puts his milk away from him and over by his grandmother.  A few minutes later, he looks at her and says, "Hit me, mamaw."  I guess the look on her face said it all, because he immediately began to explain, "I don't mean hit me like smack me, I mean to give me a drink."  Go figure.  Has he been watching Poker After Dark or something?

Part of the reason this latest post for Teaganisms has taken so long, is because Teagan has been in rare form lately. He has been so hateful and mean, completely moody. So, the other day, in one of these moody moments, he was acting like a butt, and I wouldn't allow him to have a sandwich before dinner (go figure), and he was complaining, and I told him "Tough titties". And he says to me, "You're a titty, now give me a sandwich." Anyone else have moody brats out there? Holla!

The same day as the aforementioned incident, he was bugging me about having a second ice cream sandwich, and being a complete butt. So I told him to bugger off, and he says, "You booger off." I wonder if "booger off" is half as bad as "bugger off"? Or worse? What a potty mouth!

My husband is notorious for purposely aggravating me, and maybe one day I will devote an entire blog just to his nuisance. However, the other day, I asked him to buy me a 20 oz. soda at the gas station, and he comes out with a candy bar for Teagan, and a short, little, fat 12 oz. soda for me. I looked at him like "seriously?", and I said, "What's this?" He said, "You told me to get you a soda". I said, "Yeah, a 20 oz. This is a 12 oz". Then he pulls out another soda from his pocket, and I asked him, "Why do you do that to me?" And he says, "Just to aggravate you. The look on your face was priceless." Then he proceeds to go into his own version of the Visa commercial. "Candy bar for Teagan - 59 cents. 12 oz. bottle of soda - $1.09. 20 oz. bottle of soda - $1.59. The look on your face - priceless." And then Teagan just randomly says, "You lovin' me - priceless." ROFL What a HAM!

Normally when I pick Teagan up from school, I wait for him a little way down from his classroom, or just outside the building's main doors. One day, I stayed in the car, because it was 99 degrees, I was half-nekkid, (not really, but as close as I could decently be), and had no bra on. It was just too damn hot for one. So, Teagan came running out of the building, fell pretty hard, and skinned his knees. He was visibly upset by the time he got to the car, and asked me, "Mommy, why didn't you get out? I fell!" I said, "I didn't see you honey, I'm really sorry. I couldn't get out because I don't have a bra on." And he says, "Mommy, you should have gotten out. Nobody will throw trash at you because you don't have a bra on." I told him, "Well, that's good to know." Err... throwing trash? Only thing my husband and I can think of is when I tell Teagan I can't go in the store looking like white trash without a bra on. rofl He's so silly.

Happy 9th Birthday To My Sweet Baby Teagan!

To celebrate Teagan's 9th birthday, and his first blog birthday extravaganza, we will be looking at Teagan through the years.  Prepare for the cuteness.

Newborn Teagan

Year One

Year Two

Year Three

Year Four

Year Five

Year Six

Year Seven

Year Eight

Year Nine
(He's actually 8 in this photo but it's 3 days before his birthday, so it will do.)

Same Ol' Song & Dance

     Other than the day's normal chaos, not a whole lot has been going on.  Teagan has been extremely moody, making every miserable, and we're really not sure what's making him so grouchy.  He told me the other day that it's me, because I ground him all the time, and though I'm sure he is a little grouchy about that, it wouldn't cause the extreme level of contempt that we have been dealing with for the last two straight months.  And though I would love to lock myself in the closet with a bottle of whiskey, that just isn't an option.  Guess we'll just have to stick it out a little longer and hope that the grouchy bug goes away or gets eaten by the super huge and buff angel boy bug.  lol

Teaganisms - Take 3

Because people are demanding new Teaganisms, I have posted this one to satisfy all you Teaganism junkies out there.  It's a short one, he hasn't been very forthcoming lately, but I'm sure that will change, since his birthday is coming up, and wants/needs give way to goofiness, especially when he knows I will probably say no to his requests.  Goofiness always melts the cold heart of a mother.  LOL

I was sniffing Teagan's ear the other day, and he said, "Mommy, quit sniffing me."  I asked why, and he said, "Quit sniffing me, sniffing is inappropriate.  I don't want to be sniffed at this time."  I wonder when is a good time for sniffing?  LOL

My mom has a little chihuahua that she named Abbey, but I enjoy calling her other names.  Not ugly, malicious names, but some of the names I call her is "Hamlet" (because she's a fat little doggie and she's just so round and cute), "Hammy", "Abbeycadaby", "Abs", "Abselot", etc.  But the other day I called her "Abbacus", and asked her if I could count on her, which cracked my mom up.  One day we were leaving, and I said, "Bye Abbacus, I'll see you tomorrow."  And my mom says, "You can count on it."  ROFL  But then, Teagan says, "Bye Abbicousin".  I guess he thought I was calling her "Abbicousin" instead of "Abbacus".  LOL  Crazy kid.  He considers Abbey his cousin, since Ollie is his "little sister".  Ollie, as you have already read is our dog, but obviously not just a dog, but a part of the family and a child I didn't give birth to (thank the Gods!  She's a horse of a dog!!).

Teagan has poo issues, we won't even go into them here, but I'm sure they will make another post one day.  So one day, after an especially rough bowel movement, he said, "that hurt like a bat who poops."  Ya think?  LOL

Teagan was outside blowing bubbles, and he got bubble liquid on my bench where I sit.  I said, "Teagan, you got bubbles on the bench!  Now I'm going to get bubbles on my butt."  He said, "That's good!  When you fart, you'll blow bubbles!"  ROFLMAO  Seriously?!?!

The Sound of Music

     The sound of music is something Teagan has been affected with, for as long as we can remember.  We first noticed it at age 2 when he was seemingly having seizure-like episodes every time he watched "The Wiggles".  Of course, for those parents who have been forced to watch hours upon hours of "The Wiggles" will know that their shows and movies are packed with musical numbers.  Which isn't a problem, we love them (or did, until they replaced Greg - that new guy sucks!).  But ever since, different types of music, or something in the music, affects Teagan.  Sad songs will make him so physically and emotionally upset that no amount of consoling will suffice.  Other songs, and this isn't restricted to specific types of music, it's a wide variety of music, so it must be something in the music, a tone, a beat, who knows!, that causes these seizure-like episodes. 
     Last year, I tried talking to him about these episodes, to see if he was aware that he is having them, or if he could explain how they feel, and he said, "The music is in my blood."  And that's probably exactly how it feels to him.  Because of his sensory issues, I feel this is probably the best description for how he feels when these things happen to him.  If someone feels like the music is in his or her blood, what else could they do but overstimulate and try to reset his or her system? 
     We have tried for nearly 7 years now to get these episodes diagnosed, but after EEG's, video EEG's, 24 hour video surveillance, MRI's, and various other tests, nobody can explain it.  I honestly believe it is a form of Epilepsy called Musicogenic Epilepsy.  My mother and I researched this, and it's the only thing we can come up with.  It only happens with music, and not all music, but most.
     You want to know what doctors have told us?  We explained that it happens a lot during movies and shows he likes, and always in the car when the radio is on.  They said, "Don't let him watch Thomas the Tank Engine" or "Don't let him listen to the radio."  Seriously?  Basically, they are asking us to take music away from Teagan, and he loves music.  We all do in this family, music is a big part of our lives.  We aren't musically inclined, but we do enjoy music with everything we do, and a wide range of musical genres, so taking music away from him is like taking away all of his toys because they might have small parts he can choke on.  Of course, he's too old for that, but seriously... take away music and movies he loves?  Not going to happen.  Unless of course, we get definitive proof that the music is causing him mental or physical pain or adversely affecting him, we will not take it away.  I really hate doctors.

What Fresh Hell Is This?

     Yeah, you read it right.  So, Teagan has been having a very, very shitty year.  First, we already discussed the assault by his first bus driver.  Then, we have to pull him from his hateful school, and put him in a behavior program, which he really isn't a behavior problem, but this was their solution instead of continuing to send him home because the teacher did not want to deal with his special needs.
     THEN... the teacher's assistant, who is fond of grabbing Teagan around the upper arm jabs her nail into his baby flesh, making him bleed and leaving an ugly mark.  You know there was hell to pay for that.  However, Teagan tried to confront her, and she called him a liar.  See below about this lying business.
     THEN... some hateful kid at school gets pissed off at him because he tells this kid that he saw him running to class.  The kid tells him to "shut the f*ck up" and lobs his calculator at Teagan.  Teagan says it hit him in the leg, his lying teacher says it missed him.  I'm more apt to believe Teagan.  He does not lie well.  Well, what I mean to say is, he just can't lie.  He doesn't know how to do it and we will never correct that.
     THEN... four days later, this same kid gets pissed off because everyone in class got ice cream as a special treat, and because this kid is the Devil Incarnate, he takes his anger out on the first kid he sees... which just happens to be MY F*CKING KID!  This kid punched Teagan in the face four times and somehow in all of this a very large (like 6 inches wide) bruise appears on his leg the same day, before the three full-time adults in a classroom of 8 children could pull him off of Teagan.  ARE YOU F*CKING KIDDING ME?!?!?!?
     THEN... three days later, two girls get into an argument at breakfast and one of them says the other girl made her nose bleed, and Teagan told her he didn't see any blood, she tells him to "shut the hell up" then pinches the shit out of him.  You should have seen the bruises.
     So... I call a meeting of the team leader, the school therapist, and his case worker, and I explain exactly how it is going to be.  I told them I see one more person, adult or child, leave a mark on my child again, I will be filing police reports.  I may still do it against that one kid who punched him.  He is a f*cking menace to society.  And threatened to yank him out of their program, if it happens again, which would result in a loss of funding from his Medicaid.
     You know, there really isn't much more than I can take, before I start throwing punches.  Does my child not have enough going on already?  And I've only given you all half of the story.  He has something more going on, that I cannot even go into, due to the personal nature of it.  Eventually, I may be able to share the last pieces of Teagan's mental puzzle, but for now, suffice it to say that Teagan's mental trauma threshold has been filled to capacity and is nearly overflowing, along with my threshold for patience with everyone.

Family-Friendly Businesses? Yeah right.

     Let's talk about businesses that are purported to be family-friendly, but in reality, hate disabled children. Without mentioning any names... there is a very popular international pizza restaurant with a red roof... that hates disabled children. When we first moved to our neighborhood, we went to this local pie spot, and there were only 2 other couples in the whole joint. Teagan, as usual, was very excited when he saw they had arcade games, and wanted to play them. However, our policy is that he must eat first, in order to play games.  So, much raucous and fussing ensued, and he did eat, but then kept leaving the table to go to the arcade games. The supervisor came to our table and told us that we would have to leave because Teagan was disturbing the other patrons. Are you serious? I don't want to throw the race card around, but we were the only white people there. And it was clear that the supervisor was friends with one of the patrons there, but they never even cast a sideways glance in our direction. So, we were ejected from the restaurant. Well, of course you know what came next. I am not one to back away from a fight, especially involving my child, so I wrote their headquarters a very nasty, very lengthy letter, stating that if this was the way they do business, they need to stop advertising as a family-friendly establishment, and advertise as a "we hate disabled children restaurant". I also reported them to the Better Business Bureau, and threatened to call the local media.
     Very soon after, I received a response to my letter, stating that the supervisor that night apparently had many complaints about him, similar to mine, and had been terminated because of his behavior. However, 5 years after the fact, we still have not returned to dine-in, but we do order take-out from them frequently, as they are the only pizza place that delivers to our house. :-(
     The next time we got kicked out of a restaurant, it happened twice at the same restaurant. Needless to say, we do not take Teagan there, and have only been there without him maybe twice in the last 5 years. It was a very nice Chinese buffet restaurant with amazing food. I really love their food. But when Teagan was about 5 years old, and again at 6 years old, we were asked to leave because he was being "too loud and disturbing the other guests". Needless to say, I raised hell, and the next time my mom was with us and she raised hell. My momma is just like me. We're a couple of hellcats that aren't going to put up with anybody telling me what they think of my child. He's my child. If I think he's a brat, that's my deal, not yours. You try raising him for a day, and see how many grey hairs you sprout while maintaining some shred of sanity.
     So, basically, our family dining experiences now consists of those restaurants that have playgrounds, where all the children are screaming like wild hellions and the parents are speaking even louder just to be heard over the noise. And it's just fine with me. You don't like my child? You don't deserve my money.

Teaganisms - Take 1

     As I said in my first post, Teagan is a very funny boy.  I thought I would dedicate this post to some of the things he has said in the past, which still crack us up, as well as some new things he has entertained us with.

     About a year ago, he was sitting in the car with our then lab-mix puppy, Ollie, and informed me that her breath smelled like hotdog water. I'm not sure he's ever seen or smelled hotdog water, but apparently to him, dog breath smells just like it, or maybe because Ollie was hot, he thinks hotdog water is more like hot dog's drool? Might want to consider this the next time you make hotdogs. LOL

     One day, Teagan was on his hands and knees behind the dog.  I asked him what he was doing and he said to me, "Ollie sniffed my butt, so I'm sniffing hers."  Seriously?  ROFL  So gross.
     Just a few days ago, my husband found a lost dog, so we took him in for the day, in order to find his owners.  Teagan really loved playing with that dog, until the dog, which was still a very young puppy, nipped his arm.  He said, "Mommy, the puppy bit me!"  I told him the puppy was just trying to see what he tasted like.  He said, "I can tell him that.  I taste like human.  NOT dog food."  ROFLMAO
     And on a more personal, but also slightly gross note... Teagan is well aware when mommy's "Aunt Flo" comes to visit, because mommy gets very cranky and isn't very fun. So, when he asks me to do things, I tell him I have cramps and my tummy hurts, and I don't feel like playing right now. Unfortunately, our toilet stops up without any warning, so when I went in to take care of that "personal" business, it stopped up one day, and I didn't know, and left the bathroom. Teagan went in shortly after, and came out all excited ranting and raving. I asked him what was going on, and he says to me, "Mommy! You popped out a cramp!!!" I was like, WTF?? So, he drags me into the bathroom, and I see just what a "cramp" looks like... it was the tampon that didn't flush properly. Poor child will be so confused when he's an adult... LOL
     About a year ago, there was an altercation with an African-American woman at Teagan's school. She was blocking the entrance and exit to the school with her huge SUV, and expected us to backup further holding up traffic, just so she could bogard her way inline of everyone else who had been waiting for 15 minutes or longer to pick up their children. She eventually cussed me out because I did what I usually do in those situations, the exact opposite of what I am expected to do. So, Teagan hearing all of this, I told my mom, who was with us, that I was going to call the school and report her behavior, because it was highly inappropriate with children going to their cars, and my own son sitting in mine listening to her foul little mouth. We are one of the very few white families in this school, so my mom says, "When you call, don't be afraid to throw the race card." Meaning, if we weren't white, she wouldn't have been so nasty. And Teagan replies to all this adult talk, "Yeah mommy, here, you can throw this race car! (he always has cars on hand) My mommy's gonna throw a race car! Mommy, what does the race car look like?" We just about died.
     On September 8, 2010, my car died several times on the way to taking Teagan to school.  He asked what was wrong with the car, and I told him there is a hole in a part of the engine, and he asked why.  I explained to him that it happened when Daddy wrecked the car back in March 2009.  So, he informed me that we should take the car to "Nappy Auto".  rofl  I asked if he meant "Napa Auto Parts", and he said no, it was "Nappy Auto".  I'm not sure I'd want to take my car to any place with the word "Nappy" in it... may end up getting my car back with no tires or rims...
     Last week, I was showing my mom these little tiny bumps on Teagan's back.  Now, I couldn't mention it outloud because when he hears about stuff like that, he totally freaks out, like he'll die from a little bump.  I was concerned they may be the beginnings of chicken pox, but without saying, "Hey mom, look at all these little bumps on Teagan's back and chest!", I said, "Hey Teagan, show mamaw all the hair you have on your back."  rofl  Well, the next day, my husband calls the family letting them all know that Teagan had gotten ahold of the hair clippers and wanted daddy to shave all the hair off his back.  Boys are so vain!  LOL
     One day, I was helping Teagan with his spelling homework, and one of his words was "gratitude".  I asked him to give me a sentence for the word "gratitude".  So, here was his sentence, "I have a bad gratitude."  ROFL  Seriously?
     Sometimes, Teagan gets little pimples on his "junk".  And we have to make him pick them, so they don't get worse or infected.  One night, he was spending the night with his mamaw, and he was showing her his latest pimple, explaining to her that the black pimples have "more chemicals in them than the white ones".  Supposedly, I had told him that, but I never did such a thing.  I have no idea where he comes up with this stuff.
     Teagan still has issues cleaning himself after he performs "#2", so today when he was performing his business, daddy went in to take care of the... err... business.  Teagan informed him, "Be gentle with the intersection where the poo comes out."  LOL  Never heard it called an intersection, always thought it was a one-way street.