Where is Larry the Cucumber when my pickle is lost?

Another traumatic day for Mr. Mas and I. I have to start by saying that mothering a child with Asperger's has to be the most wonderful and the hardest thing I ever had to do. Whoever said the lines are blurred when raising a child never had to raise one like mine. I feel that sometimes I put more blame on myself for the meltdowns than I deserve. At least that is what my best friend told me today. It all started with the pickle. I got a wonderful note from Sir-teach-alot (A.K.A) Mas' first grade teacher. Telling me that Mason is doing so much better and to thank Mr. S and I for all that we are doing. Last year it was not so much a tradition as it was part of Mason's regular routine that on the day's that the PTO was selling Popcorn and pickles, Mason always got to choose one. Being a new year I was unaware of when the PTO was doing it. I assumed that it would be listed on his homework sheet as usual. BIG MISTAKE! You guessed it! Today was popcorn and pickle day and I conveniently left my purse at the house. I tried to tell Mason that I was sorry and I didn't know that it was pickle day and he could have one next time. I lost that fight! I had to drag Mason to the car kicking and screaming. I heard it all. From "I hate you!" to "They are never going to have pickles again!" In the back of my mind, I feel like the most horrible mother. A good mother would know that this would cause a meltdown and have averted it in the first place. The truth: It doesn't make me a bad mom. It makes me human.