Don't get your drawers in a knot!

Just FYI: This is not our house.

  Our 1971 ranch house has been a work-in-progress for nearly 12 years now. It's not so much being renovated, or remodeled, as it is being reinvented. This reinvention has been happening at our own hands, which is why it will probably never be finished. I'm sure it isn't an ideal arrangement for someone on the spectrum who might have trouble living in a constant state of flux. But - there we are.


  When the kids were little the only uninterrupted block of time we had to work on the house was after they'd gone to bed. So we'd kiss them goodnight, tuck them in, and then tear out a few walls. Or there was the time we said goodnight, climbed up into the attic, shimmied out on to the rafters, and took wire cutters to the suspended acoustical tile ceiling hanging over the living room. A few snips later, the whole thing came crashing down. We then proceeded to shove all the debris out through the front window. It was quite satisfying! The girls never heard a sound. At age 5 Maggie said to us once, in an incredulous tone, "WHY did we have to buy a BROKEN house?!" Hey, location is everything, kid!

  So - for Christmas this year Brad gave me kitchen drawers. I was ECSTATIC! We gutted the old kitchen 10 years ago, and immediately built cabinets and poured concrete countertops. It took another few years before we had doors on the cabinets, so I wasn't holding my breath for drawers any time soon. To hold all of our utensils we've been using this cheap plastic rolling cart with 3 extra-deep drawers. What a headache. You could only locate one of our twelve shrimp forks by noisily, and angrily, rifling through six layers of stainless ladles, slotted serving spoons, and four complete sets of measuring cups. (I didn't even know I had four complete sets of measuring cups.) For the record: we never use the shrimp forks for shrimp. My girls know them only as "fruit forks". I am thankful my Very Southern Grandmother isn't alive to bear witness to this bastardization.      

Hey, look! The plastic rolly cart!

  Georgia did not look upon my drawer present as a gift. She was thrown into a minor tizzy. New drawers meant something was going to CHANGE. She was "not used to it!" I told her that she typically has this reaction to change, but she eventually gets accustomed to the new things, and it will all be OK. For a child on the spectrum there are some things you try to keep the same, for the sake of peace. You *try* to keep the same schedule day after day. You *try* to keep things in the places they expect them to be. But I was getting my drawers, by God. She was just gonna have to bloody-well get used to it! And.....she did. Without much fuss really. She was actually pretty tickled to be able to locate her ice cream spoon so easily. No meltdown. No drama. Also for the record: ice cream spoons in my house are actually iced tea spoons. Again, glad Grandma doesn't know this.
 

  There will continue to be changes in the coming year - with the house, and no-doubt with it's occupants! If Georgia can continue to have only "minor" tizzies over them, we will have accomplished something amazing. Today marks exactly one year since we left on our California adventure to the Stowell Learning center, and I've been very pleased with what we've learned along the way. This adventure with our Stowell work is not done. Not by a long shot. We are always changing and growing, so how could we ever be done? I guess that's why the realization that our house will never be "done" doesn't really bother me. It simply means something super cool, and really interesting is lying right around the corner. But watch out, we just may be wielding a sledgehammer to get to it!

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