Pre-teenisms

I got the first glimpse of Middle School hormone angst today.

A note addressed to Vitaly from a girl.

Alarms went right off.   I am always worried about him being bullied.  He is in the Special Needs classroom so it might be very funny to some pre-teen girls to pick on him.  What an easy way to prank him but to write a note and have him think someone "likes" him.

The note went something (remotely) like this:

To Vitaly
From (name)

Do you think I am beautiful or pretty?
If you are going to be my boyfriend are you going to hold my hand?
I hope you think I am pretty and not fat if you think I am fat then that would make me sad.
Write me.
name

Alarms!!!  Really does my autistic spectrum/PDD/FAE child even understand what it means to "like" someone in such a way?  Sure he knows what a girlfriend is but he doesn't know what a "girlfriend" really means.  Two completely different things to him.

So I had a mini meeting with dad.  He read it.  Seemed a bit concerned.

We asked Vitaly about it and he got very embarassed as he grabbed the note and ran (and then hid the note)

Yes, he said he did write her back and told her, "Football is number one and Go Packers!" I guess that is a twelve year old boy for you. 

Not sure if I am ready for this pre-teen world!

Uh-oh!

Uh-oh!
Oh No!
Crash!
It's broken!
Look what happened!
Stormy! (aka the bad dog)

Don't you just love when you hear those.  Too me it means one thing.  Something will need to be replaced.  Perhaps it is junk (cross fingers) or something valuable (*@%>).  Either way it seems to be a constante lately in our home. 
I think I just about had enough when I was in the bedroom and I heard the sound of breaking glass on floor.  That is never a good one!  Then I heard the sound of little feet up the stairs and "mommy don't be mad at daddy."  Great.  What can that mean?  Must be something I have treasured and bought to enjoy.

Then from the bedroom I hear the sound of glass going into a trashcan.  As I am told, "he didn't mean to break your plate!"

Now it hits me.  Must be one of the plates of a collection of FOUR (not a collection of one but a collection of FOUR) on the kitchen wall that I have enjoyed pre-mommyhood bought for my enjoyment!! MINE!!!!!

Sadly, it is one of the the four.  So now I have THREE.  Doesn't quite look right.  Missing one like missing a tire on a bike.  The sulking begins (but I will stalk EBAY)

Next day...

From the bedroom.

Loudly stated from husband "Stupid Psycho Dog~!"

Uh. Oh.
Can't be good.  We have already seen our living room carpet  that she has decided need her claws to dig at while we are away. 

I go upstairs.  I see a large hole.  I see what is actually under the carpet and foam!  I see alot of it in fact.  I turn to the left, I see carpet remains and bits of foam.
Really?  What was she thinking?  I know what I was thinking.  This is a mess.  We will have to get new carpet but how can we because she is still psycho and still lives with us.

Then I hear, mom- Vitaly is in the paint!  The craziness continues..