Father Of Mine…

Happpy Father’s Day!

I can honestly say I’m blessed to know a lot of amazing fathers, and I hope each and every one of them have an incredible day today.  But, more than anything, there are three men in my life who have completely shaped my vision of what makes a great father, and I’d like to take the time to say something to each of them today, since I’ll only get to spend the day with one.  First, of course is Daddy – who I am lucky enough to navigate parenthood with Monsters with.  Second, is Papa Clyde – AKA my father; and third is Poppy – my know-it-all (it’s true, he does know everything!) grandfather. Without these men I wouldn’t be the person, daughter, friend, or mother that I am.  Each one of them has influenced me beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Poppy -

Happy Father’s Day old man!  I haven’t called you yet this morning because I figured you might actually take advantage of the day and sleep in and I didn’t want to be the one who woke you up!  Mind you, I obviously have no problem doing this every other day of the year, but still.  It is Father’s Day after all.  I truthfully don’t even know how to write this.  When I look back at my life, and your role in it, I can honestly say you are one of the only people in the world I have always known, 100% was there for me, no questions asked.

For as long as I can remember you’ve answered endless un-answerable questions, simply to entertain me.  You’ve given me your love for a good baseball game, a cold beer, and a determination to learn how to do an Irish Step Dance (which we both know I will never be able to accomplish given my miserable failure at any form of dance).  More than that, you’ve given me stability, love, faith, and a sense of humor I would be lost without.  I have countless memories of conversations we’ve had while walking through grocery stores, or other public places – most of those memories are seared into my mind not because of the depth of them (not that we haven’t shared in some wonderful and serious conversations, because we certainly have), these memories stand out because of the looks on the faces of the strangers around us as they eavesdropped on the constant banter between us.

You have always been able to find a way to find the humor in even the worst situations, and I can’t begin to express how grateful I am to you for giving that gift to me.  Being able to not just find the good in the bad, but finding the humor in what should be a humorless situation has saved me on so many levels.  Knowing I can call you and no matter how much of my own hair I have pulled out over the antics of the Monsters, you will laugh so hard I can’t help but laugh with you.  It’s become one of the most important aspects of my life, and my number one coping mechanism when things get rough.

You’ve been a father to me through thick and thin, going above and beyond grandfatherly duties, and I’ll never be able to properly express how much that means to me.  I have never felt like I didn’t belong with you.  You gave me my first lesson in love being thicker than blood.  So, when you’re sitting in the pavilion next, drinking a beer and listening to the radio, have that flamingo at your side give you a toast from me.  Next month I’ll be able to give you a proper toast myself, and I fully expect to leave with a heart full of love and a belly full of laughter.  I love you Poppy, I miss you to pieces, and I hope you have the best Father’s Day yet.

P.S.

Kaleb says “Happy Father’s Day!”

Mason says “Why?”

Ha!  I love you,

Princess Flamingo

Papa Clyde -

Happy Father’s Day Daddy!

I’ve had my fair share of father figures throughout my life.  But only when you came along did I truly get a Dad.  I know I have probably already said this a hundred times, for a hundred different occasions, but I’ll say it again:  Thank you.

Thank you for being my Dad.  Thank you for taking me as I was, and as I am, and loving me unconditionally despite my best efforts to make you do otherwise.  Thank you for standing by me, behind me, and in front of me as I navigated the world around me.  Thank you for being everything a father should be and more.  Thank you for opening your arms, your heart, your family to me and never letting go.  Thank you for rescuing me from myself when I needed rescuing, and letting me struggle when I needed to rescue myself.  Thank you for everything.

Through you I have learned so much.  I’ve always been stubborn (a trait we both share to a fault), I’ve always been a heard-headed girl, who wanted what I wanted and that was that.  You’ve taught me how to accomplish the things I want in this life, while building relationships, instead of burning them to the ground.  You’ve shown me how rewarding it is to teach others, and help those around me.  You’ve redefined compassion and loyalty, while encouraging me to continue to be as outrageous as I want to be.  You’ve given me independence, while making sure to be there when I needed someone to lean on.

We’ve grown together – you and I.  We’ve both had some of the stubborn stripped away in light of things that we couldn’t see coming or control, and we’ve learned from those things.  In all the battles I’ve had to wage, with myself, my kids, my family – even you – you have always been there to find the light at the end of the tunnel with me.  We’ve been through awesome times, and we’ve been through hell, and no matter what you never lost faith.  You’ve made me crazy, and I’ve made you grey, yet still you stand proudly by my side and introduce me as your daughter.  You’ve shown me what it means to have not just a father, but a Dad; proving once more to me that love is stronger than blood.  I couldn’t imagine what my world would be like without you, and I never want to.

Happy Father’s Day Daddy, I will see you this evening, and I’ll raise as many toasts as I can to a man who changed my life for the better, forever.

I love you,

Your pain in the ass daughter.

Daddy -

Happy Father’s Day Love!

Of course you know I had to save the best for last

Oh where do I even begin?  We have the luckiest kids on the planet – because they have you.  But they aren’t the only lucky ones, I am as well.  In the last five years we have gone through hell and back more times than I dare count.  We’ve made each other laugh, and cry, and yell, and curse the heavens – but through all of it you have been, and always will be, everything.

You are my constant (I am perfectly aware of how completely unstable that must mean I am!), my rock, a beacon for everything that matters in this world.  You have taught me so much, and continue to do so each day.  You’re honest to a fault (seriously, no girl actually wants to know if the dress makes her look fat), your integrity and ethic is unparalleled to anyone I have ever known.  But those aren’t the reasons I love you.  Actually, half the time, those are the reasons I want shake you!

I love you because you are you.  I’ve never been more aware of how lucky I am to share this life with you than I am right now.  Our boys get to grow up with a father who teaches them that life isn’t easy – but it’s worth it if you work for what you want.  They have inherited the best of you, and for that alone they will grow up to be forces to be reckoned with.  You sacrifice daily for this family – for me, for them, for us as a whole – and you don’t get nearly the amount of acknowledgement that you should.  You spend months away from us to ensure we are able to do the things we want to do.  To give them the life that we want for them.  To give me a life I could never have dreamed of, and we will never be able to fully make you understand how much you mean to us.

Each and every time life throws us a curveball you take it and make it work to your very best ability.  You miss so much, yet without you, there wouldn’t be anything to miss.  You come home to chaos, and crazy, and you accept and love every single bit of it.  You chose us – and we are so incredibly lucky.  We are lucky to have a man who knows when to push and when to wait.  We are lucky to have a man who is patient, compassionate, understanding, faithful, and just as insane as the rest of us.

I’m sorry that you are missing Father’s Day.  But you’ll be home in just a few days now, and we will make up for it as best we can.  I know it’s hard being gone.  I know it isn’t easy to have to miss out on so much, I can’t even imagine how hard that is.  But what I also know is how much we love you.  We go about our daily lives while you fight tireless for us to have them, and we could not be more proud of you.  You are the strength in this family.  The foundation of the life we are building together.  I can look back at the last few years and know with an absolute certainty that we can face anything.  We can make it through anything together.

I cannot wait to start the rest of our lives together.  I cannot wait to marry you.  And I love you all the more because you’re crazy enough to actually want to marry me.

You are an incredible father, (future) husband, and friend.  You deserve an amazing Father’s Day – and when you get home, I will give that to you.  Once and for all you have proven to me beyond a shadow of a doubt that love is thicker than blood.  I love you more than words can express, and I will see you soon.  There will be cold beer, warm pizza, and a house of Monsters waiting for your arrival.  Have a wonderful day Love.

I love you,

The insane mother of your children, and your future wife.

***There is a side note here.  Because I probably won’t be writing tomorrow, I need to say this now.

This is a bittersweet day for me.

Don, one year ago tomorrow you left this world, and all of us in it that loved you.  Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you.  For 364 days I have looked down at the pirate band on my arm I have thought of you. I hope wherever you are, you have the peace that was sometimes so difficult for you to find in life.  I hope you’re playing beer pong and listening to music loud enough to make everyone around you crazy.  Most of all, I hope you are happy, and I hope you know how much you were loved by so many people.  We miss you.

Learning To Fly…

Well, it’s official.  Mason has been diagnosed with autism.

As you may, or may not have noticed, I have been basically been avoiding all forms of human socialization lately with few exceptions:  interactions that are required in regard to one of my many “jobs” (this includes school meetings, the very awesome special needs convention this past weekend, and walk related duties); interactions with my children (which, given their constant screaming lately, has taken a lot of silent counting in my head); and a small handful of friends and family.

This is nobody’s fault but my own.  I typically handle stress pretty well – given that I live in a world of Monsters and Mayhem and am often the focus of angry little people (not actual LP – the small humans I gave birth to).  At any given point in time you can find me juggling multiple things at once while still attempting to actually read books and not go completely crazy.  This is not currently the case.  What I’ve been doing has instead been less like juggling, and more like trying to catch the balls shooting out of a tennis ball machine on high speed.

While wearing giant clown shoes.

I’d love to be able to pinpoint exactly what has gotten my sanity in such a state, yet there isn’t a way to really do that.  It’s mostly been a lot of little things that refuse to go away and are slowly playing tug-of-war with what’s left of my mind.  Take insomnia for example.  There were a few years where I legitimately didn’t sleep more than 2 hours a night, and it was never consecutive sleep.  I never really knew what the problem was, I just knew I couldn’t sleep, and that was a pain.  Now, many years and two kids later, the insomnia bug has struck again.  Even on the nights when the kids sleep through the night, peacefully and quietly, I can’t stay asleep to save my life.  Then when I do sleep, I have dreams that would make Dean Koontz proud.  Seriously, I wake up irritated in the middle of the night because some of the nonsense my head is brewing up would make for some really wild stories.

Anyway, enter the vicious cycle.  I can’t sleep because I’m stressed.  I’m more stressed because I’m tired and less equipped to manage all of the tennis balls shooting out of the machine.  Rinse, wash, repeat.

Add to that the kids spending all day long acting like a case of fireworks that someone tossed a match into…

Mason screams because Kaleb touches A.

Kaleb screams because Mason touches B.

Mason screams because Kaleb screamed about Mason doing X…

They aren’t even actively fighting - they’re just shrieking at each other for absolutely no logical reason.

And then they do start fighting, and I wish they’d go back to screaming at each other.  At least the risk for immediate physical injury is not present when they are on opposite sides of the room shouting at each other like a couple of tortured banshees.

Then there were the two evaluations Mason had scheduled for this week.  I’ve been completely stressed out about these evals for an absurd amount of time – and as insane as it is to be so worried about something I have no real control over – those tend to be the things that make me the craziest.  Captain Control Freak here – checkin’ in!

As I’ve explained before, Mason is really good at manipulating the people around him to get what he wants.  That is by far his biggest strength.  When we were going through this with Kaleb I knew what was coming.  Kaleb is who he is, you see that the minute you meet him, and you’ll never have cause to think anything else.  Mason however, can be who or whatever he wants to be depending on the situation he finds himself in.  So many people only see the sweet, funny, yammering Mason who appears to be just like any other kid.  They don’t see the motor problems, the sensory issues, the meltdowns and the OCD like behavior.  Most people don’t even have a clue they’re being shamelessly manipulated by a two year old.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had people who barely know him, or only see him on good days inform me that they don’t think there is anything “wrong” with him.  I’ve learned over the last few years to shut my mouth, smile politely, and change the topic.  The same thing happened with Kaleb when he was going through his evaluations.  One nay-sayer after another crawls out of the woodwork.

The biggest stress point of this is people trying to attribute Mason’s own peculiarities to learned behavior he picked up watching his brother.  Which is basically impossible considering most of Mason’s problems are either things Kaleb stopped doing long before Mason was born, or things Kaleb never actually did.  I could sit here and list them one by one – but I really don’t think it’s neccesary.  Daddy and I both see it – and we’ve been seeing it since Mason was very young.

My concerns regarding the evaluations stemmed from this.  I was so worried Mason would put on his little angel face that the people doing the evaluations wouldn’t see the issues underneath it.

Now, a part of me knew this was a ridiculous fear.  These people are trained to see the delays, the pervasive play, the preferred solo play, the sensory issues, the lack of communication (This is not to say he doesn’t speak because he does – he has words.  Most of them are in reference to a vehicle of some sort, but he does have words.  The difference between speaking and communicating however, is huge.  Just because Mason can use words does not mean he uses them to communicate.).  Regardless of it being an absurd thing to fret about or not, Mason is a sneaky little thing, and I was sincerely worried about this.

Tuesday he had his evaluation for Child Find.  This was to ensure he would be starting school in the fall, and get the help he required (speech, OT).  We got up in the morning and headed over to the school they were to do the evaluation at.  I remember going to the same school for Kaleb’s evaluation three years ago.  We walk in and meet the psychologist and the speech pathologist who are to do the eval.  We put Mason in his seat, and he immediately starts to flip out.  We put him in my lap, and get more of the same.  Eventually we just put him down to see what he’ll do.  And of course, he goes directly to a school bus I wouldn’t have found if I was looking for it.  He must have honed in on it the minute we walked in the room.

The rest of the evaluation was pretty standard.  They ask questions, I answer questions.  One tries to engage Mase while I answer questions, then they switch.  It became obvious pretty quickly that Mason had no intention of cooperating – but at least he wasn’t screaming.  I have no idea what their end result was, and I imagine I probably won’t until the staffing meeting is scheduled before school starts up.

That night we went to see Scooby-Doo Live (Musical Mysteries).  Growing up I was obsessed with Scooby, and it absolutely thrills me that both the boys have a love for the crazy pooch as well.  We went to Johnny Rockets and got milkshakes and burgers before the show, and all three of us had a great time singing along and warning Scooby and Shaggy whenever the ghost entered the stage.

Yesterday morning Mason had his diagnosis evaluation.  This was it – time to figure out what is going on with the bug once and for all.  Daddy and I knew what was coming – but it’s still a nerve wracking experience.  Once again Mason had no interest in any interaction with the psychologist doing the final evaluation (this of course was added to the mountain of paperwork I filled out a few weeks ago, the evaluations that Mason’s therapists did, and all of the information on file from the last two years).  No big meltdowns occurred (unless you count him throwing himself down on the ground and screaming for ten minutes over a matchbox car being taken away).

At the end she was able to total up his scores and give us an official diagnosis.

Mason has autism.

This is the point in time where I am brutally honest.

I am so unbelievably glad the evaluations, wondering, questions – all of it is over, I can’t even begin to express.  Am I upset?  Sure, a bit.  But honestly, we’ve known this was coming for so long I came to terms with it long before yesterday.  It doesn’t change anything.  At least, not really.  It doesn’t change who my child is, or who we are as a family.  It doesn’t affect how we play, or learn, or spend our evenings.  It doesn’t mean he’s anything more or less – he is who he is and we love him for that unconditionally.  And, with the exception of the Poopcasso Jr. tendencies, I wouldn’t change a single thing about him.

But we finally have something written down.  Something that gives us an absolute, definite direction to go in.  We know now where to get help for him, and we know he will get that help, no matter how hard we have to fight on occasion to make it happen.  That is a relief.  The piece of paper, the label – they don’t matter to us, but they’ll go a long way to ensuring he is not looked over or ignored as he continues to grow.

Last night was the first time in well over a month I really slept through the night.  I didn’t so much as move.  Seriously – I woke up in the exact same position I fell asleep in, not even the blankets had moved.  Of course, an entire night without moving is a great way to give yourself a backache and a stiff neck – but it was so worth it to not feel like I was going to fall asleep standing up.

It’s been a crazy couple weeks.  In the last week alone we’ve had The Family Cafe conference, my mom’s birthday, both of the evaluations, Scooby-Doo, and more meltdowns than I can count.  To add to the crazy, I’m packing up all three kids with Miss Lisa tomorrow and we’re going to go meet Lightning McQueen!  I cannot wait to see the look on Mason’s face when he gets to go meet his Cars hero in real life!  Follow that up with a trip to the T-Rex Cafe and our week will be completely.  Thankfully, Daddy comes home in less than a week and maybe we can go back to having some semblance of calm (if you know us personally, you are probably laughing like crazy right now).

But, since it is Friday, the week is finally over, the evaluations are finally over, and the house is relatively clean (no, seriously!  Mason has of course trashed his room again, and the living room has a few cars scattered here and there, but it actually looks like people live here instead of crazy Monsters).  I’m going to go make mini tacos, fire up the popcorn machine, cut up some fruit, and watch Star Wars with my Monsters. *Mason has discovered the joys of watching the Jedi go to town with a light saber – the look of awe/wonder/what the hell?? that crossed his face when he first saw Yoda was priceless!

Honestly, I’m not trying to be all MIA – and I’m going to work on getting myself back in the habit of writing in the mornings.  Of course, I promise nothing.  Have a great weekend everyone, I can’t wait to tell you all about meeting Mason’s heroes!!

Since You’ve Been Gone…

Kaleb has taken it upon himself to become an informant on Mason.  By that, I mean every time Mason strips himself of his diaper Kaleb shrieks across the house “Mommy!  Mason’s Naked!”  And if Mason has opted to take off all his clothes he will shout “Mommy!  Mason’s Super Naked!”

Unfortunately, as much as this sounds like a blessing, it’s got some big downfalls.  Like Kaleb not going to sleep until Mason goes to sleep because he feels the need to run to Mason’s room every fifteen minutes to make sure he isn’t naked.  Neither Mason or Leah taking a nap because Kaleb is constantly running into the gate to make sure they aren’t naked.  Or this morning – this morning was the worst.  I woke up at 6am to Kaleb screaming.  He was screaming at Mason.  I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but Mason was still sleeping, so this was not cool.  As I made my way out to see what was going on, Kaleb stopped shouting and headed in my direction.  I asked him what he was screaming at Mason for – because Mason was sleeping, and it wasn’t nice to wake him up.  Kaleb’s response?

“I had to see if Mason was naked!  He wouldn’t stand up!”

Oh good grief.

Okay, so I’ve been pretty absent over the last couple weeks – sorry about that.  There’s been a LOT going on.  I started writing this Thursday – today is Tuesday.  That seems to be the reoccurring pattern for the last few weeks, I’ve barely touched the computer.  In part because of the kids, and in part because I have a bunch of different projects going on at the same time, and I can only do them in bits and pieces while the kids are sleeping.  Which is typically when I write if I don’t get it done in the morning during breakfast time.

I mean, it’s actually gotten kind of ridiculous.  I have a bunch of save the dates to address (and don’t bother suggesting the printer, every time I have attempted to use that infuriating device I end up with a paper jam and ink everywhere), and I can only do a few in a sitting because after about five my handwriting turns to something so illegible even I can’t read it.  I have finally finished painting all of the tiny wooden letters for Mason’s walls (that took me almost two weeks after sorting them all out).  But, I still need to finish the shadow boxes and the canvases for his walls – which is a huge problem since every time I sit down with them I draw a massive blank on how I want to do them.  I have a cabinet I need to sand down and paint to replace the crumbling POS I’ve been using to house the kids’ artwork, coloring books, work books, etc.  I have to transport all of the stuff I’ve stock piled for a garage sale out of our garage before Daddy comes home and has a mini-stroke at the pile of boxes and bags in the corner.

I’ve got picture frames with plastic instead of glass to paint with chalkboard paint, then convert into daily schedules for the boys.  All of the other projects I’ve had going on for a while and have been trying to balance them with all our other activities.  The schedules are a new project, and have planted themselves pretty firmly at the top of my list.  Our house has always been pretty loosely controlled chaos.  I want the kids to be able to adapt to sudden change and the unknown.  Now, that’s not to say we don’t have a routine, or we just throw the kids into potentially meltdown-causing events without warning.  When we know something big is coming (such as an upcoming trip up north) we talk about it constantly, so they can be ready for it.  I know how well Kaleb does with routine and structure.  Sometimes I feel like I’m cutting of my nose to spite my face with the whole “life is chaos” theory.

So, I’ve decided to try to balance the two a bit better.  We used to have picture boards and schedules all over the house.  Until Mason started eating them.  And Kaleb started having meltdowns because Mason was eating his pictures.  So, since Mason had no interest in using the pictures, and Kaleb no longer needed them to communicate, we took them down.  I’m going to make each kid their own daily schedule – on the chalkboard so I can adjust the times each day as needed.  I want to set it up so we have a few hours spread out through the day for “school work”, as well as separate time for me and the boys individually.  However, the schedule will not be the same every day.  I’ll change it up each day, moving around the activities and times – sometimes we may have adjust in the middle of the day.  I still want them to be able to adapt to chaos, but I also need to prepare Kaleb for his first year of kindergarten and Mason for his first year of pre-school.  Anyway, we’ve been busy doing other things as well.

First off, after a week of nothing but play and nonsense, we’ve been attempting to get the house back in order.  And what I mean by that is – I’m trying to clean while the boys have metaphorically superglued themselves to my backside and proceeded to fight and argue with one another while making a mess behind me.  I still don’t know why I try.  I remember a time when my house was clean.  It is not clean any longer.  In fact, it looks like a herd of bulls ran through it.  Bulls with sledge hammers.  Costumes from us playing dress up and going on treasure hunts strewn everywhere.  Potato head body parts launched like rockets through the living room.  Doll houses, furniture, cars, and people.  Puzzle pieces scattered.  Alphabooks strategically placed in locations designed to make me slip and break my neck.  Dinosaurs, dragons, and legos hidden everywhere.  Kaleb’s stories, books, and assorted artwork on every surface… it’s a giant mess.

Then again, the fun parts are totally worth the mess.  Both of the Monsters love music of all different genres and styles.  Classical music helps Kaleb calm down, but put on some Adele and the boy will be singing “Rumor Ha-Ha” with every bit of passion he has.  Mason is the kid who likes to dance though.  I have come to realize I’m going to have to put him in a dance class of some sort since it appears he has inherited my unfortunate rhythm (or lack thereof).  But he loves to dance.  We don’t watch a lot of ‘typical’ tv with them around – it’s usually Disney Jr., movies, or music.  However, one of the few shows I love to watch with them (aside from Jeopardy!) is So You Think You Can Dance.

I can’t dance.  I know this.  It is a well documented fact, and if for some reason you should see me attempt to do so you should either knock me out, shield your eyes, or run in the opposite direction.  I have no hopes of ever being a participant on this show.  The boys however?  Different story.  Every time we watch it Kaleb asks me if someday we can go there with all the dancers.  Mason doesn’t ask anything – he just dances.  I have been trying to capture video of this forever, but he’s elusive, that kid.

Anyway, Nigel says “Cue Music” and Mase moves his little body all over the place.  He usually tries to mimic whatever he sees on the screen – which is 100% of the time really entertaining.  He goes from ballet to jazz to hip hop and back again – it’s absolutely hysterical.  Especially when he’s pretty much naked pretty much most of the time.

On the less humorous side of things, we had a meeting the other day to determine Kaleb’s placement in kindergarten next year.  I’m still trying to wrap my head around the entire meeting and the decision that was made so that will be a post for tomorrow (or whatever day I’m able to sit here for more than five minutes without being attacked by my Monsters).  I would however, like to ask anyone who knows anything about EBD to share thoughts and feelings on it, because I’m still trying to decide how I feel.

Hopefully I’ll actually be back to posting regularly after this – we are cleaning the main part of the house today.  Well, we’re going to try.  Well, I’m going to try.  Oh, who am I kidding?

I’ll be back tomorrow to tell you what a disaster my house still is.

Strange Movies…

I’ve gotten really good at being functional on very little sleep. Considering there’s usually some reason I’m not getting any. Be it the boys, Milo, my own thoughts or worries, some evil mutant bird living in the gutter over my bedroom window…

I’ve learned to adapt to a world with little sleep.

But every now and then my lack of typical sleep catches up with me. Or, I guess I should say, it hits me like a freight train. It happened a few nights ago. Both of the boys have a cold – Kaleb’s started up about a week ago, and Mason has picked it up now. Neither of them is feeling particularly bad, but they are a bit more cranky and confrontational than usual. So of course that means no nap for the tired, pissy, cranky Mason Bug. After dinner that night Mase grabed his cup and his cars and headed straight to bed. By 6:30 he was out like a light, surrounded by his cars and snoring away.

Kaleb and I sat up and played with one of the houses for a while, and then off to bed he went. He’d been yawning and rubbing at his eyes for a good twenty minutes, so I figured it wouldn’t be long before he passed out. Only, I can’t guarentee that, because I crashed before he did. I put a movie on I’d been wanting to watch for quite a while and finally had my fingers on. I figured I’d wait for him to crash and then I’d go to bed too. I made it fifteen minutes, tops. The only thing about the movie I remember watching was the opening credits.

I know I woke up a couple times to Kaleb’s screaming – I mostly remember the one time because I walked face-first into the pocket door in the hallway. I know I managed to drag myself to bed at somepoint – but I must have made it without walking into anything because I don’t even remember doing it.

I slept like the dead. It was beautiful. After all of the stress, the drama, the worry, and the sleepless nights of the last few weeks basically hit me like an anvil in an old acme cartoon.

Of course, that glorious night of sleep cost me. I woke up at 6am to a whopper of a meltdown. Kaleb came into the bedroom to get me up, and for whatever reason just started to completely freak out. I don’t know if he tripped over something, or if something spooked him, but it was a giant meltdown – before the sun was even up. The day didn’t get much better after that. Between him and Mason it was one thing right after another. Fighting over the swiffer – so I give Kaleb a mop of his own with a little solution dispenser. Then they mopped my kitchen – which, by the way, I was totally cool with. Except I forgot I had the dispenser filled with vinegar water and the whole house stunk like a pickle factory.

Then they started fighting over the toy vacuum (Daddy, just going to go on record here and say I told you we should have bought two of them). At first Kaleb was mad because it was too loud and tried to take it from Mason. Kaleb got in trouble, Mason started doing it just to get Kaleb worked up, Mason got in trouble. Then they were fighting over who was going to get to use it. Give Kaleb a small battery operated vacuum (okay, obviously I have a thing for cleaning gadgets – even though they never get used), they vacuum the living room. Again, I’m not complaining.

Basically, they just tore at each other all day. The only thing I managed to accomplish was to finish painting the letters for Mason’s room during quiet time. Of course, now I have to do the shadow boxes and all the other nonsense, but at least the most tedious thing is done. And it was a miracle considering how many times Mason decided to have a strip show in his bedroom throughout that two hours. So, of course, no nap for him.

The chaos continued throughout the night. Kaleb starts a fight with Mason, Mason starts a fight with Kaleb. They were like mortal enemies all day. Fighting over the doll house (we have three of them – why can’t you both be happy with your own??); fighting over the Little People (we have four thousand of them – why can’t you both be happy with your own??); fighting over a seat on the couch, the space on the floor… you get the idea. By 6:30 I was seriously drawing up blueprints for a velcro wall in my mind (and yes mother, I know I’ve been saying it for years and we still haven’t built one – but one of these days it’s going to happen).

Finally, it was bed time. Mason passed right out (this no napping thing is really starting to work for me). Kaleb on the other hand, wasn’t so quick to sleep. I had been anxiously awaiting for the stars to align – and by that, I mean I wanted Kaleb to be asleep and the storm that was rumbling off in the distance to roll in. Because I had finally gotten my hands on a copy of The Strangers, and I was determined to scare myself silly.

I realize how crazy that sounds. But I’ve always been a horror buff. I was reading Stephen King at 9 and grew up with a cat named Krueger (those are both true facts about me by the way). Over the last couple of months I’ve had a handful of people tell me I have to watch this movie because it’s terrifying. I’ve been told not to watch it alone, not to watch it in the dark, and so on. Naturally, I had every intention of watching alone in the dark. It’s taken me forever to get my hands on the movie, but I finally did.

So, Kaleb falls alseep, the storm rolls in, and I’m beyond excited to watch this movie. It’s been a long time since I actually found a scary movie to be scary. Unfortunately, this one wasn’t an exception. I won’t say anything to spoil it for any of you out there in case you’ve yet to watch it – but I will say that the only thing I found frightening about the film was how absolutely stupid Liv Tyler’s character was. Seriously, when are they going to make a scary movie that doesn’t include the people being completely stupid??

Anyway.

We went to a Memorial Day party yesterday. As usual, I was a bit trepidatious taking all three kids out and about, but Miss Lisa and Uncle Ed were both going with so I wasn’t as worried as I would normally be. Kaleb immediately honed in on the other kids and was off like a shot. Mase and Leah kind of alternated between chasing around the big kids, playing with eachother, and climbing on the adults.

But they all did phenomenal. No major issues, meltdowns were completely nonexistent. It was, in a word, awesome. And yes John, I’ll totally go ahead and say you bring peace to the world around you!

We all got too much sun, and once the kids actually fell asleep last night they slept like very tired rocks.

We are planning on spending today playing in the pool, and with any luck they will sleep just as well tonight.

I’ve been trying to write/post this for days so I’m going to wrap it up now and say Happy Memorial Day!!

History Repeating…

“Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”  ~ Albert Einstein

This is how I feel at least twice every day.

Why did I just pick up that bin full of potato heads?  They’re just going to dump it out again.

What is the point in folding Mason’s clothes and putting them in the dresser?  You know he’s going to pull them all out and pee on them as soon as you put him to bed.

How many times are you going to say “Use your inside voice!” before you learn that the children don’t have inside voices?

Pick up this, put it away.  Step on it again in twenty minutes.  Pick it up, put it away, step on it again in twenty minutes.  Pick it up, put it on a shelf, step on it again in twenty minutes.  Pick it up, throw it in the garbage, go hide in closet.

Don’t jump on the furniture!  Stop throwing things at the television!  Don’t hit your brother!  Stop screaming!  Leave the dog alone!

These things.  These ridiculous things just keep happening over and over again – yet I continue to try, over and over again.  Hoping, with some sort of sich masochism that one of these days I will actually get a different result.

Who knows, maybe one day I will.

Anyway, we went to the library Friday to pick out some movies for the weekend.  It occurred to me, while standing there listening to Mason scream at Kaleb and Kaleb scream at me in the middle of the children’s section that the kids have never seen Mary Poppins.  Oh, wait.  I have never seen Mary Poppins.  I know, I know, major Fail.

I was too preoccupied falling in love with Beauty and The Beast and The Rocky Horror Picture Show.  Both of which my kids have seen at least five times each.  I wasn’t the “Spoon full of sugar” kind of kid, so to speak.  I was definitely more “Time Warp”.  But still – what kind of self respecting movie-night making mother am I if I don’t sit down and watch the lady with the crazy umbrella (Mary Poppins is the one with the umbrella, right?) fly around the tv?

Right then I decided to remedy my Mary Poppins problem and borrowed it from the library.  Since we’re spending the weekend celebrating Kaleb’s graduation to Kindergarten I figure it will be a perfect addition to our party.  But first things first, we needed Shrek 4.  Last week was so rough I opted to make this week as much like a vacation as I could.  Which meant 7 days of movie nights, favorite foods, fun and games, and lots of low key fun.

We watched the first three Shrek movies throughout the week, at least three times each, and now we needed Shrek 4. We took a break from the movies on Wednesday since Uncle Ed came into town to play, which was awesome.  It’s been years since we got to see him, and the boys certainly did their best to make up for it!

So when we went shopping on Friday after the library we picked up Shrek 4.  Unfortunately, by the time we got home both of the kids were walking nightmares.  Screaming, fighting, throwing, kicking, you know the drill.  Mason screamed for an hour because he wanted cereal, Kaleb screamed because Mason was screaming.  By 6pm Friday night Mason had put himself to bed and was sound asleep.  So, our celebration got postponed until yesterday.

We spent all day yesterday making a mess of the house we had just cleaned.  We made our fruit fondue dip, and while it was setting Kaleb and I set to making some spinach dip.  Though he suddenly stopped me and said:

“Mommy, I don’t want spinach dip.”
“Oh? What do you want instead?”
“Peas dip.”
“Peas dip? What would you put in something like that?”
“Peas, tomatoes, cheese, milk, cookies, and olives!”
“Buddy… that sounds really gross.”
“No! Everyone loves peas dip!”
“Okay, let’s just stick with spinach for today, what do you say?”
*sigh* “I guess mommy. But only because you’ve been a very good girl today.”

My kid is truly silly sometimes.

We filled up on our dips and snacks and settled in to watch Shrek Forever After.  Fifteen minutes in, Mason jumped up, ran to the popcorn machine, grabbed his favorite popcorn cup and started screaming for the popcorn machine.  So, we took a break and made some popcorn.

Settled back in to watch Shrek 4 – and didn’t get very far.  Fighting, fidgeting, screaming – oooh my.

Both boys went to bed around 9, and I vowed to finish this party today.

So, we’re going to make puppets with paper bags and have a puppet show.  And we’re going to watch Mary Poppins.  And we’re going to continue to completely destroy the house – because, well… the bins are already dumped out everywhere, we might as well play!

Then we will get up tomorrow, and clean the house again.  Wreck and repeat.  Insanity I say.

Graduation…

5:00am.

This is a point in time where most people are typically still snuggled in their beds, dreaming of whatever it is they are dreaming of.  I was too.  I was dreaming about sleeping.  It was really pretty awesome.

Until a scream shattered my sleeping dream.  Not a scream of terror – no nightmares here.  Not a scream of pain – no mishaps or accidents happening.  No, the scream that woke me went a little like this:

“Mommy!!  You have to get up now because Mason is naked!”

Come on!!  You cannot be serious.  Of course, it’s Kaleb – and Kaleb does not joke about naked Mason.  He is definitely serious.

I zombie-walk to Mason’s room, mentally trying to count how many hours of consecutive sleep I actually managed to grab.  Let’s see.  I fell asleep around 10.  Mason woke up screaming at 10:30.  I fell back asleep around 11:30.  Kaleb started to sleep walk to our room and tripped over who knows what – all I know is I woke up to him crying on the floor in the office around 2.  He didn’t appear to be seriously hurt, I couldn’t see any bumps or bruises, so he probably just freaked himself out more than anything.  I went back to sleep around 3.  Mason got naked at 5.  So that would be 5 hours.  Better than it could have been, I’ll take it.  

Get Mason dressed, get the boys breakfast, clean up the kitchen, start laundry, make a cup of coffee, realize I just poured the last of the creamer in my cup.  Crap.

This is not a good way to start a day!

Of course, on top of that, I’m really sad Kaleb is going to miss his Pre-K graduation today.  I really wish he could go – but I can’t send him.  He still doesn’t understand why he can’t go back to school.  Sending him in for this one thing and then bringing him home will only further confuse him.  But it’s really heartbreaking for me.  Over the past two and a half years he has earned this little milestone, and I hate that we’re missing it.  Every time I think about it I want to cry.  I know it would be more for me than for him – things like that tend to flutter over Kaleb’s head like butterflies.  And it would be selfish of me to even consider going after all he’s gone through over the last few months.  But it’s heartbreaking nonetheless.

I can’t help but look back at where he was when he first started school.  Mason was just a baby.

Kaleb was so completely excited, but so completely confused at the same time.

He could barely contain himself.  And he did wonderfully.  He had an incredible teacher who made all the difference when it came to my Monster Man.  She was patient and understanding, she went out of her way and took the time to understand him and his complicated mind.  We couldn’t have been luckier.  For the first year and a half of his school career she was there to support him – even when he wasn’t in her class any longer.  I’ve basically made it my mission in life to ensure that Mason lands in her class come October when he starts school.

Kaleb grew, physically, academically, and socially.  We went from being terrified to put him on a bus to him being a bus riding pro.  He began to understand the concept of sharing.  His written language skills exploded and his verbal language doubled.  He had made such huge leaps, it was incredible to see his beautiful brilliance finally shining through all of the struggles.

We looked forward to him starting the new school.  It was exciting to know this would be the last round of pre-k for him, in just one short year he would be a kindergartener.  The year started off great.  He liked the new school, and so I did I.  He made new friends, was excited to get on the bus each morning, and everything seemed to be going right.

And then everything changed.  He got a new teacher, new students were introduced, and bit by bit we watched him start to struggle.  The phone calls suggesting I pick him up started to increase.  His behavior started to deteriorate.  Getting ready for the bus became a fight.  Day by day things got harder and harder.  The meltdowns started to escalate again.  Then the suspensions started.  And things just kept getting worse.  He started regressing, behaviorally and academically.

As you probably know by now – we had meeting after meeting.  Tried all that we could think of.  Then things got so bad Kaleb nearly hurt another student badly.  And I hit my limit.  So, I pulled him out.  We’re waiting for his neurologist to fill out the paperwork for Hospital/Homebound and we’ve pulled Kaleb out of school.  For both his sake and the safety of the students around him.  It was a decision that had to be made – one that wasn’t made lightly, and one I  stand by 100%.

But it’s still sad to know that Kaleb is missing his graduation day.  Daddy pointed out that next year’s kindergarten graduation will be 100 times better – and that hadn’t even occurred to me.  So I’m grateful for the reminder.  I know that there will be graduations after this.  Milestones and events.  But that doesn’t make today any less sad.  What that reminder did do is determine what we are going to be doing today.  We’re going to have our own graduation party.

We’re going to go to the library and pick out some new movies for the weekend.  Then we’re going to buy new popcorn sprinkles, a graduation hat, some pigs in blankets and some of Kaleb’s other favorite junk foods.  No pity parties here.  Instead, we’re going to have a graduation movie night like no other!  That is, if I can keep Mase and Leah clothed long enough to get to the store.

Only Mama Knows…

Today is Mother’s Day.

Growing up I never thought I’d celebrate this day for myself.  Motherhood wasn’t in my ‘plan’.

And then this perfect, screaming little person turned my entire world upside down, and in the blink of an eye, everything changed.  My hopes and dreams were no longer for me – they were for him.  My actions were no longer a reflection of me, they were his.  Being awake at 3am held a whole new meaning.  I was able to fit the whole world in my arms, and each time I did I found myself less surprised by how absolutely right the fit was.

I watched, encouraged, molded, shaped, and spent my every waking hour loving this little person.  I was there to clap and cheer the first time he sat up on his own.  I took video after video trying to capture him standing up in his crib blowing raspberries.  I listened as he squeaked and squealed and cooed in his swing.  I barricaded my living room off day after day just waiting for him to crawl from one side to the other.  I watched him cover himself in blueberry pancakes for the first time, and laughed as I cleaned the mess.

I waited patiently for his firsts.  First time holding a bottle, first steps, first words.  Some of those came later than others.  Some came early.  And I cherished every single one.  I watched as little pieces of him developed into the independent, sweet, quirky child that he was growing to be.  I soothed and sang through the night terrors.  I watched as some of his quirks became more defined, and less ‘typical’.  I spent hours with therapists and specialists, reading books and sifting through article after article.

I fought with friends and family over things they weren’t able to see.  I fought with this perfect, screaming little person.  Most of all, I fought with myself.  Was I making something out of nothing like everyone seemed to think?  Was I overreacting?  Was I doing something wrong?  Was I doing the right things for my little person?   And then the day came – three years ago, the day finally came.  My little person finally said something I’d been waiting all his life to hear.

 ”Mommy.”

And I knew.  I knew I was doing what was right.  I knew I was fighting for the right reasons.  And my first real spark of confidence in myself as a mother was ignited.

Four months later I was handed another perfect, screaming little person.  And all of the worry I had carried with me for the long nine months was instantly eased.  How could I possibly worry I wouldn’ t have enough love?  I didn’t have to be afraid that my heart wouldn’t be big enough – because it grew twice as big as soon as I saw those little eyes look at mine.

Now I was given a whole new set of hopes and dreams.  Ten new fingers and ten new toes to tickle and count.  A whole new little person to mold and shape, to teach and play with.  I watched with awe as he studied the world around him intently.  As he fell in love with cars and balls.  I watched as he took his first steps and laughed with him as he promptly landed on his diapered rump.

I tuned in to the quirks and oddities as he grew bigger.  I heard intuition whispering that things weren’t quite as they should be – and I listened.  And when my own fears and worries were acknowledged by the people who had fought with me the first time around, I felt the flames of my confidence in myself as a mother grow brighter.

Over the last six years I have laughed, and cried.  I’ve celebrated and commiserated.  I’ve learned what it means to be a mother, and a friend.  I’ve learned how to teach and be taught.  I’ve discovered what it feels like to truly love someone with all of my soul.  I’ve found a strength and an inner fighter I never knew existed.  I’ve been introduced into both the magic and the cruelty of the world we live in.  I’ve developed a patience and compassion I never thought myself capable of.

I have been changed by my children, by motherhood.

I have grown to understand and appreciate all of the mothers that have walked into my life.  And my children have benefited from the traits they have given me.  The fierce protective love and loyalty that my grandmother instilled in me.  The welcoming love and acceptance that was shown to me by the mothers of my friends, both as a child and an adult.  The humor and light shared with me by my aunts.  The honesty and faith given to me by the mothers I am lucky enough to know as friends.

All of the amazing mothers I have had walk through my life have molded the mother that I am today.  They all have had a tremendous impact in how I raise my own children.

But more than anything, the love given to me by my mother.  The respect, guidance, and endless love I have been given.  The unwavering faith and hope shown to me through tough times and through joyous times.  The laughter and the tears.  Through the wins and the losses, she has stood by my side, even when I thought I was alone.  I would not be who or where I am without her.  Without all of the amazing mothers I know.

As I sit here on Mother’s Day, tired and sore from a long night of battles with my boys, I have never felt more blessed.  Even when my heart is bruised and battered, when it’s hard to find the silver lining – I am the luckiest woman alive.  Because I have the most amazing family I could ask for.  The difficult times make the wonderful times that much better.  The triumphs made more brilliant by the tragedies.

I never thought I’d be a mother.

And I’ve never been so happy to be so wrong.

Happy Mother’s Day to all of you beautiful women out there.  To those I am lucky enough to know – you are an inspiration, and I couldn’t imagine walking this unknown road without you by my side.

I love you all.