On Thursday the home team celebrated 10 years of Holy Matrimony. Hey- the world didn't end! I guess I was wrong that one time. Ten years, man! TEN YEARS! That's a lot of years. All pretty good too. I think B's sister Jessie summed it up best when she said, "You two may be the only people on the planet who actually should be married." Clearly she has not been witness to many successful relationships.

I was in a bind as to what to get her for this momentous occasion. There are a few problems/situations I had to overcome. First, her birthday falls exactly a week before our anniversary (I know- I should have worked that out better). For that I had already promised her a new stereo for her Hyundai Santa Fe, which is not my cup o' tea as far as cars go, but she likes it well enough. It has a pathetic radio, and beyond its already laughable output, one of its crossovers shorted out so there's no bass on the left side of the car. Sounds like shit. So, I said I'd get a new system put in it, which will no doubt set me back a bit. Therefore, didn't want to spend a lot on the anniversary thing. But I didn't want to be a cheapskate either, ten years doesn't come along that often. Jewelry? RIGHT OUT. I'll tell you why. Becky's never been into the bling, which I'm eternally thankful for (we wouldn't be married if she were a jewelry girl- not my type), but she has a few things that I've gotten her. Of course, there's the engagement ring from all those ages ago. And there's the diamond earrings from Xmas a few years back. She wears that stuff all the time. Oops- until recently. Couple months ago the diamond popped out of the ring setting while pushing the kids around at the zoo, never to be seen again. Then, last weekend B was outside pulling weeds or someshit and Casey crashed into her head, knocking an earring out. Can't find that one either. So, you can see why I am feeling a bit gun-shy about another trip to the jewelry store.

I ended up just going to Target & getting some stuff for the yard (which we're really into making nice at the moment) and another frigging iPod. We have like four or five of those things now. None of the real cool video ones though, these are all older music-only types (but I digress). This one's neat, it's just one of the little clip on dudes without the screen or anything. She's been doing some exercising lately and always complains because she left her iPod at work or the battery is dead or whatever. This one is tiny and clips on your shirt, so it's really handy for working out. And it is pink, so automatically loved by females the world over. Also, and this is where the cleverness begins, it is made out of aluminum, and everybody knows what the symbol for ten years of marriage is, right? Yes, aluminum. Like how fifty years is gold and two years is, I dunno, sand or bisquick or something? Well ten is aluminum. Well, tin, actually; but the powers that be say that in modern times aluminum is an acceptable substitute since tin is not so plentiful. I researched it on the Internet!

To add to the cleverness I bought some aluminum foil to use as wrapping paper. I can not be more clever! I wrapped all the presents up, and admittedly they looked like something that belonged buried in a freezer somewhere. But ten years... aluminum foil wrapping... THAT IS WICKED CLEVER.

B makes it downstairs in the morning and eventually sees the shiny, crinkly, razor sharp mess of crap I left on the table with the card on top and says, "Ooh! Presents! HEY- did you use all my foil for this?!?"

Okay, so maybe it would have seemed more clever if I did not have to explain why it was clever, as Becky did not know the significance of aluminum = ten years of marriage. Without that pretext in mind it may have seemed that I was just wastefully using aluminum foil to wrap boxes (badly), when we have hundreds of square feet of perfectly good and actual wrapping paper stored in the attic you boob (the boob being me). I said, "NO! I BOUGHT THIS FOIL SPECIAL! Because, um, it's like ten years? With the aluminum, which is sort of like tin? You know- like it said on the internet? Over there on the computer? I'M CLEVER!"

Then I got the rolleyes that only ten years of marriage can perfect.

UNRELATED- Becky got my favorite precooked meatballs at the grocery store. They are AWESOME- add some spaghetti sauce and a big bun & you got yourself an instant meatball sub, which is pretty much my favorite thing. THE BEST PART- when you open up the meatball package, it smells like fart. Totally. You peel back the plastic and think, "Aww yeah- fart." This saves so me much time. No waiting around several minutes for gastrointestinal processes. This gets it out of the way before I even have to think about it. Interestingly, when the actual meatball farts come- they smell like flowers.

That about wraps up this entry. I'll leave you as I often do, with some dangerously photographed license plates attached to cars moving at high speeds on the freeways of Cleveland. Everyone is fortunate that I am so good at steering with my knees.

Tags: What? License Plates The Home Front Good Times Lunch

This has been cross-posted to the WD.

There may be a few of you left who recall that the wife and I had some kids a couple years back. This was no small feat; it required cutting edge science (including LASERS!), huge scary needles and private time behind locked doors with wrinkly copies of XXX pornographic magazines; all under the wacky supervision of our capable and ethnic doctor Balki Bartakamus. It really was a sexy superscientific time, to be sure. And- for the record: had I known that insurance would not cover the cost of them, I would not have taken all those magazines home under my coat. I assumed they were for practice.

There may also be some of you who have no idea who I am, or maybe you are just interested in the romantic aspects of the story. Well, perhaps you should start with the original ten part saga, which I have conveniently linked to here. That's a lot of reading, so if you don't mind, we aren't gonna wait for you. Catch up on your own time, okay?

Alright then, moving on. You'd figure (or at least I would figure) that all the hard work is done, right? All the the humiliating probing and painful surgical procedures (for her) and all the jakkin' it (for me) had totally paid off- BABIES! Two of 'em! Whew! It's Miller Time! A job well done, congratulations all! Well played sir! Off you go then! Back to your life of ease and privilege! Golf clap!

Oh no- I WAS MISINFORMED. As it turns out, all the science and children being born stuff was just the beginning. Sweet sweaty jesus- it's like it never ends. These kids- they need stuff, like, goods and services. All the time! And one or more of us has to be around to provide these goods and services. With absolutely no compensation in return! Unless of course you live in a region where poopy diapers are considered currency, in which case I am the wealthiest person you know. The boys are more than generous in that regard. I'll be sure to thank them someday when we get to retire to our exclusive private island paradise. Or, in real world terms, "retire" means "sleep under" and "exclusive private island paradise" means "mile high mound of mouldering shitty diapers". I guess that's sort of an island. We'll be warm either way, right?

Oh wait- is it to late to preface this? Dammit- it probably is. Okay, now we have to start over. I wanted a preface.

[PREFACE:] Do not, under any circumstances, make this post out to be a "poor me" thing. I am absolutely in no way looking for frowny face sympathy. If that's what you want to react with, that's fine; but I'm here to tell you everything is gonna be okay. I got enough sympathy a few months ago from the people who followed me to Cranky Matty at a time when I wanted it, so I'm all good now. [/PREFACE]

Tyler is volatile. He turns from silly chirping gigglepie to raging shithead demon in a heartbeat for no good reason. BOOM goes the dynamite! It is hard to take him places because the possible public meltdowns are loud, violent and embarrassing (which, as you know, is really saying something as I lost my shame in 'Nam to a sniper's bullet). You should see the dirty looks I get from people when they see me carrying his kicking, shrieking ass out of wherever we may be. I have to either sling him over my shoulder or wedge him under my arm like a football, and I'm sure people think I'm abusing him or something. Hell no- I'm just trying to not get kicked in my privates (he has unnaturally good aim) or bitten on my face. Or gouged with fingernails. Or punched! Thus far he has not tried to use weapons on me, but we're not letting him have his first set of nunchucks until he turns at least four. No edged weapons until seven, unless he asks nicely. I should say here that it's not as bad as all that all the time; Tyler is often the cutest, most courteous kid in the world. But those tantrums, wooooo boy.

Tyler, Jeckyll/Hyde split personality and all, is a completely normal two and a half year old boy. Yikes! It is a tribute to parents everywhere that they haven't thrown all two year old toddlers off a mountainside or into a volcano. We're heroes, saving humanity every day.

Casey is the sweet one. He plays happily most all the time and loves to cuddle. When he gets upset there's usually a darn fine reason why, like maybe it's nap time or his juice cup is empty or you forgot to change his diaper for eight hours or something. You can take him anywhere, he doesn't mind. Everyone wants to babysit Casey, he's so happy and agreeable to anything. He likes to stand on your feet and hug your legs, which is just adorable except for the fact that you can't move until he's done because you'll knock him on his little butt. He sings along with songs he hears on TV- not well, but c'mon- He's two. What's this? American Idol?

A few months ago, Casey was diagnosed with autism.

Wow- that sure sucks the air right out of the room, doesn't it? Sorry for that- I spent two days trying to think of a funnier way to say it, but I've got nothing. But look, like I said in the super important preface, everything's gonna be okay. Eventually. Like, after many, many events, which is what "eventually" means. In case you don't know what autism is, and you aren't alone because it turns out nobody knows exactly what it is, here's the entry provided by our friends (we really have at least one friend there! Hi Bethy!) at Wikipedia. If you don't want to read that whole thing, and I can't blame you because YAWN, here's the gist: autism is a developmental disorder based in the central nervous system that covers a tremendous range of mysterious learning and social disabilities that restrict communication, social interaction, imaginative thinking, activity, and interest level. Basically, it messes up everything you do or think about. A bit of a hurdle, to say the least.

We had suspected for the last year or so that something may not be right with the little guy. While Tyler was getting into dinosaurs and trains and balls and other crazy boy stuff, Casey preferred carrying a plastic spoon around and staring at it for hours. Ty can count higher than I can and speaks almost as well, probably with more clarity. Casey doesn't speak. He makes noises (sooo cute) and sings, but not with words, just sounds that are almost like the words. He jumps everywhere- it is his preferred mode of transportation. HOP HOP HOP! Here comes Casey! When they are around other kids, Tyler mixes it up with the roughest ones twice his size and holds his own because he's like a cannon ball. Casey stands apart from the crowd in his own little world, completely detached from whatever anyone else is doing.

For a long time neither Becky or I wanted to admit that there may be a problem. It was obvious since birth that Ty & Casey were almost exactly opposite personalities, so we figured that Casey was just going to develop at a much different pace than his feisty twin. We would just give it some time & everything would be fine.

For me, it was this past Christmas that was the first big red flag. Becky, in an amazing effort to provide the Greatest Christmas EVER, went absolutely insane and bought the entire toddler section at Toys 'R' Us for the kids. She was so excited and had the best intentions, but even I was completely overwhelmed by the vast array of presents that awaited these two year old boys, and I have seen some crazy shit in my day. It took her a solid week of late-nighters to wrap all this stuff. It was amazing and frightening at the same time, sort of like Victoria Beckham, and featured obscene piles of plastic parts, also like Victoria Beckham. You'd think that with this department store's worth of goodies the kids would be just rabid to start ripping into it. Well, as it happened, not really.

Tyler was game enough, but by the seventh or eighth awesome gift he was really overloaded and wasn't much for opening more. Casey sat with his first present, an abacus, which we had to open for him because he just wasn't getting the concept. For the rest of Christmas morning he sat in the midst of his massive piles of unopened gifts, turning his abacus from one side to the other, staring at the beads as they slid back and forth.

I knew then that this was not normal behavior. Where's the unmitigated greed? Where's the crazy animal lust that only rending wrapping paper from cardboard and plastic can satiate? We were practically handing him the keys to the toy store, and Casey just wanted to flip some beads around, and then go back and stare at his plastic spoon. It wasn't right, but it also wasn't a surprise. In the back of my mind I had expected it, and thinking back on it all, I'm pretty sure that was why I was such a grumpy shit before the holidays. I gave Becky a hard time about buying all those toys because secretly I just knew that Casey would not have a normal little boy reaction to the tremendous Santa bounty. I was right, and it was heartbreaking.

A month or so later my brother & I were at work listening to a story about this famous autistic savant on National Public Radio, who besides being this impossible math genius is also a great advocate for the victims of autism. On a whim I decided to do a quick Google search. Near the top of the results list was this article, "Five Early Signs of Autism". Casey was five for five. Five for five is a great day in baseball, but kind of a shitty day in autism. I read the list, got up from my computer and walked into the never used darkroom in the back so my brother wouldn't see me cry.

HA-HA! Kidding! I wasn't crying back there! I was... uhh... okay... I was crying. You know, quietly, like a man. Macho, macho sobbing. Even cowboys cry sometimes- I saw that in a movie. You know, the one with the gay cowboys.

I e-mailed Becky the link to that article. She wasn't sold right away, it took her a day or two to come to grips with Casey's five for five performance. Lots of denial at first, "No- only one or two of these I agree with." Eventually, she saw it too. Once that settled in and we got through the requisite distress, Becky took action.

My wife is amazing. This is a dumb sounding thing to say, but having an autistic kid could not happen to a better parent. She's been a dynamo. She sets up all the appointments & screenings. She calls all the organizations that need to be called. She organizes the landslide of paperwork that keeps getting shoved at us. There is a progress and sleep journal for the neurologist that Becky updates daily. She attends the speech and occupational therapy sessions and educates the rest of the family about what the various therapists want us to do with Casey when he's not in therapy. Becky arranges our schedules to accommodate drop offs and pick ups. This is, of course, all on top of her full time Very Important Job (that includes the Very Important Health Insurance) and all the normal headaches that come with taking care of twin toddlers. Let's also take this moment to acknowledge the fact that she's super hot and smells great.

At this point you are thinking, "Um- Matt, what the hell are you good for?" Not a whole lot. Moral support, I guess. Back rubs. Geez- I'm a load. Clearly I married up in a big way. Yay me!

Well, this is where we are now. We've just started various therapies and are investigating special preschools. This stuff is ludicrously expensive, and we are very fortunate that B works for a huge company that has nice health insurance. Honestly, I don't know how people who don't have that going for them can do this. There's also a little bad news/good news involved with this. The bad news is that Casey is considered quite impaired; but the good news is because of this he qualifies for a whole heap of free stuff from the state, county and city. This includes all sorts of special programs and classes, including swimming lessons and horseback riding! I think tiny Casey on a giant horse will be hilarious. I will have pictures- you better believe that. All the doctors and therapists have been very positive about Casey's chances at overcoming his autism, the hope being that he'll be caught up enough that he'll be able to go to the same schools as his brother before too long. We have been very encouraged by his early progress.

Almost every day we'll be hanging in the living room, and Tyler will be in the midst of an epic meltdown with all the shrieking and throwing and everything else. In stark contrast, Casey will be sitting on the couch or standing at the window, singing, maybe he's hopping around because he's excited about something. He looks so happy. The question is always the same, "Hey- if he's broken, do we really need to fix him?" We laugh because we know the answer.

Of course we do. And we will.

Tags: Kids Autism The WD Infertility The Home Front

Feeling a little better a few days later after some talks to our pediatrician and some more research on the subject of autism. Things could be much worse. But- there has been a development! Nay- a revelation!

We have determined that my 28 year old brother is also autistic! For real! In doing our research and the affects of autism on adults, it dawned on my mother that the person this is describing is Zach! Obviously, he is what they call "high-functioning", but it explains every one of his nutty anti-social and obsessive problems from childhood through today. Looking back it makes so much sense and my mom feels terrible for not recognizing it when he was a kid, but c'mon- nobody knew anything about autism back then. Zach is still getting his head wrapped around this discovery, but he says he feels very liberated in this knowledge, because now his problems don't seem like some unexplained vagueness that has always haunted him- it has a name! Strangely, we're all very excited by this.

And to add to the weeks' oddness, my friend John (who I mentioned I was looking for in this post & haven't heard from in six years) e-mailed me out of the blue. That's good stuff, but weird! He's fine, in case you were wondering. And still single, so ladies, if you're in Rhode Island for any reason, pick up a twelve pack of cheap beer and you just may win his heart.

Next up for Casey, we've made an appointment to see a pediatric neurologist, but there's a bit of a wait and we can't get him in for another month or so. I'm looking forward to this appointment just so we can get a better idea of what to expect. Thanks for all the concern and well-wishings, and thanks also to those of you who would have commented but didn't know what to say (I do that all the time). I know the last post was a curve ball, usually you come here to read something I think is funny, or see some stupid thing I drew, or whatever and then you get POW! AUTISM!!! That's whack, jack.

Tags: Kids Autism Pals The Home Front

I don't know why exactly I waited so long to admit this out loud, because deep down I've been sure about it for months. I guess by not saying it, it wasn't real, and that was easier. Today it's real.

Casey is autistic.

The top of my google search for "early signs of autism" was this article. Casey is five for five. We're going to start calling doctors tomorrow.

It's not the end of the world, but I'm a little hollow inside right now.

Tags: Autism Kids The Home Front

Wife gets home from the Indians game a little tipsy- had to work the luxury box for some bigshots in town for The Company. Anyway, I'd put the kids to bed a long time before and we're on the couch.

ME: "So, uhh, wanna do it?"

SHE: "Oh, sure."

ME: "AWESOME!" (jumps up, arms up signifying glorious victory)

SHE: "I'm hungry though- get me a bag of Doritos."

ME: (runs, retrieves snack size Doritos)

SHE: "Thanks."

ME: "I COULD TOTALLY OPEN THAT BAG IF YOU WANT ME TO!!!"

Tags: The Home Front Good Times What?

I'm trying out this new public beta of the program I make my sites with, RapidWeaver. I'm going to make this entry, save it, and hope nothing explodes. In case something explodes, tell my wife and kids I love them, okay? Promise me!

Yesterday I was going to take advantage of the holiday off by trying to get a freelance project or two done. I have four deadlines this week! Eek! Eek! Instead of doing that, however, I ended up renting a big plumber's snake (or "drain router" as they're calling them these days) to clear the clog in our outside plumbing which was causing the five inch deep lake to form in our driveway and garage after the deluge that came down the night before. At the time I was major league grade-A pissed off that I had to do this (homeownership is a bitch), and I'd be way more upset about this turn of events right now if I hadn't gone and fixed that stuck drain! FUCKIN' A RIGHT I FIXED IT!!! These things hardly ever work, but after a couple hours of me jamming and twisting this electric rotating springy coil down one drain hole after another until it grabbed something it could chew, suddenly there was success! My garage and driveway flushed like a damn toilet! FLOOOOSH! Hundreds of gallons of water came blowing through the pipes at ludicrous speed. I was running around and screaming like I just ripped a gamewinner in the sixty-first minute or whatever soccer terms you want to insert! I was coated in sewage- heck, I probably still am, but who cares? Not me! I fixed the drain!

When I returned my rental, there were a couple guys pulling up to the Home Depot at the same time I was to return their rented snake. One of them, a really beefy handy-looking type, saw I was bringing back my snake and asked, "Did you get it?"

I said, "Hell yeah I got it! I'm a BAD MAN. You get yours?"

He said, "Nope." and looked sad.

I said, "Aw man, sorry to hear that." I thought, "SUCKER!"

Tags: Good Times IGNORE ME! Internet Computer What? The Home Front

Yesterday we went to the Indians game. I normally wouldn't have gone because the Cavaliers were playing the Wizards in game 2 of the playoffs and I was NOT going to miss that game on TV, but the seats she wrangled from work were in the luxury box, and I was assured that other people in the group attending the game would want the Cavs game on in the box too. Basically, I went to a live baseball game to watch a basketball game on TV. You are thinking, "that's the dumbest thing ever", but we had babysitting so I couldn't pass it up. Anyway, both my teams lost ugly, leaving me in a spot of half-drunk depression as we left the stadium.

But, on our way back to the car that we had parked in a garage several blocks away, we decided to take a detour up the street where they are shooting Spiderman 3. There wasn't any filming going on at the time, but it was pretty cool just the same. They have this three block section of Euclid Avenue cordoned off, and they've refaced most of the buildings with New York looking signage and details. They built a fake subway entrance into one of the sidewalks which looked completely real- it wasn't until we got right up to it that I could see that it didn't actually lead anywhere. The street itself was resurfaced with new lines painted on, which I can attest from driving on that normally potholed busted up stretch of shitty road just last week that this was all new just for the production. The best part was that a night crew was hard at work ripping a huge crater right in the middle of Euclid Avenue, obviously for the next day's shooting. Wrecked cars with New York license plates were lining the area, ready to be tossed around by interesting looking catapult doohickeys.

Not a completely wasted evening after all!

Tags: Sports Movies What? The Home Front

A few posts ago I mentioned something about the fact that I don't get a lot of sleep and it's all the babies' fault. I believe I whined "THIS WASN'T PART OF THE DEAL!!!" or something thickheaded like that. In the comments my friend Beth (the not-Merope Beth) said "let 'em scream", which is very valid. Even in the long long ago I had always been of the opinion that letting the little bastards just rip it up until they fall asleep is the best way to go. But, I've got a big problem. See, we have two babies. That itself is not the problem. The problem is that one of them (we'll call him "Tyler") sleeps perfectly. It's the other one (umm, "Casey"? Yeah, that'll work) that wakes up screaming. So, if I let Casey go with all the nightime drama without running in to get him, he ends up waking Tyler and messing up his established and excellent patterns. I know this because we've tried it for a couple two week periods. It always ends up with me being totally exhausted and suicidal because I'm being tag teamed by angry babies all night. We've also tried putting them in different rooms, but Casey is loud enough when he gets going that Ty will wake up anyway. Hence, the status quo. Woe!

But, in related news, I am totally proving my old saying "Sleep is for sissies!" I'M NO SISSY.

Tags: Kids Pals The Home Front

Tyler doesn't say too many words yet, but his favorite by far is "Daddy". I have to admit it's really cute, all high pitch on the first syllable "DA..." and then into the drawn out "...deeeeee!!!"

I think it would be even cuter if he weren't always greeting the dog when he says it.

As for the other one, people say that they hear Casey say words occasionally, but I think that's all just coincidence. Not that he's not chatty, he made up his own little language very early on and he will stand up and deliver very bombastic monologues with it. We are slightly alarmed that his speeches are almost a perfect impression of a very young Adolph Hitler sprechen from der Reichstag or something; arm stiff out front; hard stress on the very guttural words, the works. As far as we know he has not plotted the rise of any master race yet, so hopefully it is just a phase.

Tags: Kids Pictures The Home Front

They were like a silent army of stinky ninja assassins lurking around this town, owning the night for the first seven years we lived here. Every single night reeked of foul skunk ass in the neighborhood. Couldn't let the dog out after dark without first inspecting the yard with a flashlight for malodorous critters with malice on their minds. This year? No skunks. Not just less- none! What the hell happened? Can't say I really miss them, but maybe I should feel bad for them. I fear there was some sort of skunk holocaust, but nobody talks about it because we all like to be able to go outside at night and let our pets out in the yard. I might be sharing the guilt of some horrible crime against nature by my silence! I will be silent NO MORE!

Or maybe I'll keep my yap shut, I haven't decided.

Tags: What? Good Times The Home Front