Sunday, LMNOB was AwEsOmE – our church group had signed up to volunteer, manning the posts at a couple of grocery stores for the local Food Bank’s food drive.

The idea was to ask people if they would like to pick up a few nonperishable items and put in a Food Bank sack, to drop off in a barrel after they checked out.

In attempt to give her some practice with confrontational speech, I asked LMNOB if she would like to ask incoming customers if they would like to help the Food Bank out. I went before her, showing her how easy it was – only to be rejected with a lame-o excuse. She saw the challenge in becoming a better salesperson than Mommy, took it and ran with it!

She did great – and scored 2 barrels full of food for the Food Bank! She was so proud afterward, as were we – a fact which required copious amounts of praises from us – and practically floated on cloud 9 all day that she had done something brave and worthwhile in order to serve as the hands and feet of Christ.

Enter this week….

We are in post-finals, harried Christmas planning mode – and have been very off of our routine. The only sensory activity that we have been doing is having her wear the weighted vest in the mornings and evenings. Plus whatever she gets at school. But, it having been colder than a witch’s heart (sorry to any Wiccan friends) lately, the kids have had limited recesses outdoors – and so suffice to say that LMNOB’s gotten shafted in the sensory realm of late.

We had OT today and she was really into it – we had a great session.

Tonight, we went to do some Christmas shopping. LMNOB had been telling me about these special baby doll twins that she’d seen and has since elevated to numero uno item on The List. I had told her that we could look at them, but since Christmas was in just a little bit, there was no chance that we would buy them tonight.

After dinner and a few stores tackled – we went to Target. And she showed me the dolls. And then when we made her part from them, she went into psycho, bloody murder screaming mode. After it became clear that we were not capable of calming her down, Charlie Brown hefted her raging, flailing body over his shoulder, grabbed Punkinhead and hurried out of the store. I had to pick up her snow boots, as they shot off her feet while she was kicking. This was such a tantrum of mythic proportions, that she was heard throughout the store, and people peeked around every corner, just to ensure we weren’t beating the poor girl to death.

Then, I went and picked up the Santa items, and paid. As I sat the snowboots down while I paid, the cashier asked if I’d like a bag for the boots.

I replied, “Sure, that’d be great. They’re my daughter’s and would still be on her feet had she not been throwing a royal fit – my husband took her out to the car.”

“Ah, so that was yours?” Eyebrows raised.

“Yup. My pride and joy that one. Merry Christmas!”

Welcome to the life – all over the map behavior. And who knows when all hell is going to break loose. Or where.