Saturday, Sunday, and Monday were spent all day at the fair. Our county fair is larger than some state fairs, and the 2nd largest in the world in county classification. I also went out Saturday night as a late Birthday thing. It felt so weird being Holly again rather than Michael's Mommy Drone. But not coming home until 2am is too much.

Today Michael went back to the fair with his preschool. I am not sure what all they did to be honest, I am guessing probably just looking at animals and such. He must have done well because no email or note from his teacher. In fact she is not not saying much about him this year. Just that he is doing group work instead of individual. Which is a huge progression.

I am taking him again on Friday alone, then Saturday and Sunday with Grandma. Friday night I have to run my car (yes it feels so so good saying that MY car) to the mechanic so he can fix the brakes.

My neighbor is going to start this work from home thingy through some company that deals with melenoma things. After a week or so I may join her into it, depending on what she does. I hope it is not sending out stuff on mailing lists or selling products. I can set up my own store and feel so much better than pushing things like skin cancer products. No offense to the cause, but it just does not feel right for me. What is appealing though is picking my own hours and staying home with Michael.

As we all know I want toget into amateur photography, or a freelance type work. Yes I am still on nude cowboy ideas. To start numbing myself to the naked form I have been working with digital art photo manipulations with nude models. I may not be the one behind the camera but I still have to work with the result. So it is a start. Sadly though the stock photography for males are not really that inspiring. So I have been working with female forms.

I think though every time I finish a new piece (even back when I was working with fractals) I feel something. Pride, self accomplishment. It is just a hobby but it is ME. All ME. It helps chip away at the Mommy Drone casing that traps me here.

Do we just finally accept the bleakness that is Austism or do we just become numb to the pain? Nothing really bothers me with Michael anymore. Yeah him and I still butt heads, especially when he regresses (which potty training has taken a poopy reggression)  but maybe I just accept his behavior as it is because I do not have the energy to really fight them anymore.

*edit* spelling errors fixed. Happy? I guess few here would believe I aced spelling...