Saturday, August 6, 2011

SNSS: Unusual is not the word!


Today I have another Irish Mum here as my SNSS guest: Blue Sky of  Looking for Blue Sky. She has a complicated family with three children and an ex-husband.

Of her three children, the eldest daughter, Angel, is a lovely typical teenage girl; her younger sister, Smiley, has cerebral palsy and is non-verbal; and the youngest, Aspie Boy is, obviously, on the autism spectrum. Like I said. Complicated. 

Some days the intersection of one child's physical needs and another's emotional needs (or meltdowns) make life nearly untenable. But somehow Blue Sky finds a way through. Because, well, this is her family. 

She is a wonderful, gifted writer, and I have been reading her regularly since nearly the beginning of my sojourn through the SN blogging world. Furthermore, she helps out with the social media side of Irish Autism Action, aiding Jen, who was my other Irish guest from a few weeks past.

So come now, sit with me and listen to Blue Sky weave the tale of her family so beautifully, here:

Unusual is not the word! - by Blue Sky

It all began with a little girl called Angel. Adored by her Mum and Dad, she happily stayed with her childminder during the working day and then played out with her friends on the long summer evenings and stayed in playing board games in front of the fire when the nights closed in. She came everywhere with us and just seemed to enjoy our company.

It was an idyllic start to her childhood and almost everything I could have wished for.  But I wanted her to have brothers and sisters, and so I had two more children at four year intervals. And that's where life got in the way of my plans.

Into Angel's happy shiny world were thrown not one but two children with special needs. Smiley came first, and she was born at 27 weeks. She has cerebral palsy and some other undiagnosed disorder. My handsome boy had a perfect start in life but was diagnosed with aspergers at age 8, soon after my marriage broke down.

As Angel says, she can stop a conversation about families stone dead when she explains about hers! So how to describe the unusual dynamics between the siblings in this family? Well I'm going to be very logical and explain them one at a time...

Angel and Smiley
It was a huge shock to our little family when my waters went at 24 weeks on my second pregnancy. Smiley was born two weeks later and our lives changed completely. It soon became clear that this little girl was heading for a bumpy ride in life. She was in and out of various hospitals for her first two years, but Angel never complained.

Right from the start she took a huge interest in her very little sister and was a regular visitor to NICU. She talked to her, sang to her and even waved her magic wand over the incubator to make her better. If she was disappointed in having a baby sister who could not crawl or sit or toddle or talk, she never said, nor has she ever given up hope that Smiley will achieve some of those milestones one day.

As soon as she learned to smile my special little girl realised that this was her trump card. With her infectious giggle and innocent wide-eyed smile she makes everyone love her: and the more attention you give her, the more love she gives back.

Angel chats to her and plays with her every day, and Smiley's face lights up as soon as she sees her enter the room. But it can't be always easy. I know that Angel worries about her sister's future and who will take of her when I am no longer able. And I'm sure she gets frustrated with the amount of time it takes to do anything or go anywhere, but she never blames her sister.

Smiley doesn't complain without good reason, she loves attention but will only demand it when she needs something - like a drink, a trip to the toilet or a change of DVD. Despite all its limitations Smiley is so happy with her life and that inspires almost everyone who knows her, including her sister.

And yet. Angel wanted a sibling that she could do all the normal stuff with, so when I asked her if she would like another little brother or sister even if it meant she had to give me a lot of help, there was no hesitation and no happier child when my baby boy was born and he obviously had none of Smiley's problems.

Angel and Aspie Boy
As a baby he was perfect and so so cute, but also demanding and cranky and odd...he couldn't seem to control his body properly, he had unusual interests and was very late to talk.

I was worried, but most people just thought he was 'being a boy', and oh she loved feeding him and playing with him and watching him.

But as he got older his behaviour got more and more difficult. He got so angry and upset when things did not go his way, we would all end up in tears. Once he was diagnosed with aspergers at least we knew why, but not what to do...on good days they still get on well and laugh and joke and gang up on me by chatting in Irish. They still do things together - cycling, watching DVDs, popping out to the shop for messages.

But none of this happens on the bad days, and there are too many of those.

Aspie Boy and Smiley
In my naivety I assumed that my new baby boy would just accept his older sisters. They were already part of his family, so why wouldn't he? Well I was completely wrong. As a small child he did play with Smiley, but was also clearly jealous of all the time and attention that she needed. As he grew older and started to understand he limitations he began to be fearful of her.

Now he largely ignores her.  Once in a while he will find a toy that he thinks she may like and give it to her.  Carefully.  You see he still believes that he can catch cerebral palsy and is obsessed with not touching her or anything she may have handled.  Meltdowns can be triggered if she sneezes anywhere near him.  This can be difficult to avoid as they sit next to each other in the car.  And in the car he can't escape from her.

She may not be able to get out of her seat but she causes problems in other ways.  As she has got older she has got louder.  She is always happy and always smiles and laughs.  But now she screams with delight and for a boy with sensory issues this is almost unbearable. 

We have sound-blocking headphones for him but its not always enough.  So another reason why we spend so much time at home.  Luckily home is now large enough to position the children at almost opposite ends of the house, so the only time they really get close at home is at meal times and I face her away from him....

Angel
The one promise I made to myself was that Angel should never feel that all the effort was being made for Smiley... and then later for Aspie Boy.  She had to see her parents making superhuman efforts for her as well.

So I was delighted when she started gymnastics and needed lifts and leotards and a trampoline and help getting to competitions....it took up time, and meant dragging the kids out in their pyjamas some nights to collect her, but to me that was important. She did other sports as well, but the gym became her second home and the gymnasts her other family.

My job in PR also helped to make her feel special, because while we didn't go on foreign holidays and other stuff that families take for granted, I was able to provide experiences and freebies that were the envy of her friends and sometimes they got to take part in photoshoots or meet celebrities, so it helped to even the scales. In return she has been a second 'parent', a playful big sister, a pram pusher, a carer and a cleaner, as well as the best daughter any mother could hope for.

Putting them all together...
As a group the biggest problem I have with my children is their different interests. Angel is sporty, the other two are not.  Aspie Boy wants to stay in the house, Smiley wants to go shopping. Many activities worked well though when the children were younger: when Smiley was more portable and Aspie Boy more amenable.

We used to be able to go to the beach for a couple of hours before Smiley got bored, and when she was very little I'd dip her in the sea...thought she tended to turn bluey-purple very quickly! Aspie Boy has only been to the beach once in the past 18 months and insists that he will only go with a friend. But guess what?  Most of his new friends have aspergers and do very little except play video games.

Luckily Angel is now grown up and can look after herself and do her own thing as well as providing a bit of babysitting, so that I can take the other two out separately. Their Dad also does some activities with Aspie Boy when he sees him.

So yes we're an unusual family and life can be interesting at times for all of us including Angel. She's gone along with almost everything with good grace, except for the meltdowns.  They upset us all.

If we could just find a way to stop them then family life would be pretty good...

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Blue Sky has painted such a vivid portrait of her special, unique family here, I feel that I know them personally. I love how her love and concern for all of her very different children shines through in every word she writes.

Aspie Boy is currently going through a very difficult time, with nascent adolescence setting off a string of meltdowns that are becoming increasingly hard for Blue Sky to manage. My heart goes out to her, as she copes with the pain both and practical issues issues of this unfortunate development.

So follow her home to her blog, Looking for Blue Sky, and read more about her family and offer her your support. You will want to read this poignant post about wishing Smiley would speak, and this intense post about one of her son's first meltdowns.

Also read this short but devastating post about Blue Sky's wanting her old, sweet son back.

Finally, you should follow Blue Sky on Twitter, and go "like" her on her Facebook page.

Thank you so much, Blue Sky, for writing so beautifully about your family and bringing us into your world. It is my pleasure and honor to call you my bloggy friend.


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Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Wordless Wednesday: Birthday Cakes & Flying Balloons!

For Wordless Wednesday? Scenes from the boys' 9th birthday party this past weekend.

Yes, I make "The Cakes" again this year. Jake changed his mind, no Flying Pig. I was a little disappointed and a little relieved.

Wanna see them? Good! Here they are:

Gogos for Ethan and Basketball for Jake
Yep, completely round (GF/CF) Basketball cake
We added some REAL Gogos onto the cake, because more = better, ya know.

And Jacob? Loves to set balloons free. Did when he was three. Still does at nine.
Jacob happy = Joy
Happy, happy, happy nine year old boys.

I’m linking up to Wordless / Wordful Wednesdays all OVER the place... at Angry Julie Monday... at 5 Minutes for Mom... at live and love...out loud... at Dagmar*s momsense... at Parenting by Dummies.


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Tuesday, August 2, 2011

(Thinking 'bout) BlogHer11: What a Difference a Year Makes


As I rush around in a whirlwind prepping for BlogHer11, I am feeling very aware of how different this all feels from last year. This is my second BlogHer conference. A milestone in a way.

Last year I really lucked out. BlogHer10 came to my hometown, New York City. If it hadn't come to me, I wouldn't have gone, I was still just at the fringes of this world. (Though for all the life of me I felt much deeper in.)

This year I am well aware of how new I still am at this, how I am still just feeling my way. I am in awe of some of the "old timers," deeply impressed their fortitude, the honing of their craft over many years. And at the same time I am feeling deeply connected, have a long list of virtual friends I am dying to see, committed to meet.

I am also deeply, spine tinglingly honored by having been chosen as a BlogHer Voice of the Year this year. (Honoree, not speaker. That exaltation belongs to my roommate, the marvelous Alexandra, the Empress of Good Day, Regular People)

(If you are new to The Squashed Bologna and want to know a little bit more about who I was last year at this time, you can peek in here at my pre-BlogHer10 post full of funny stories about my past conference life: Look, Ma, I'm going to BlogHer... with tales of Sundance, SXSW, and Toronto Film fests, including the story of how pregnant me nearly threw up on James Caan.

And also my very personal BlogHer10 debriefing post, here: The BlogHer10 reflections of a very. slow. newbie. blogger.)

In my book, milestones need marking, reflection. I marvel at the changes that have come about via my blog; the growth, transformation, both personal and "professional" in my life in this past year. And my blog has really evolved in this short spate.

Other things, of course, remain the same. Jake still autistic; I still have ADD; my home is still an unholy mess, one step away from being featured on Hoarders: the Apartment Stories. 

But? I can feel myself really becoming a writer. Stretching my wings. Oh, they're still wet and shiny new, somewhat untested. But wings, people. It feels kinda awesome.

This year I have found my tribes.

One is the tribe of writers at the wonderfully supportive virtual writers community that is The Red Dress Club. It took me a long time of reading and ruminating before I began to write to the prompts. There was resistance (I don't like "being told what to do"), but then?

I took risks, tried new things (fiction!) and in the end wrote some of my absolutely favorite posts to those prompts. (Want to read some of those? Try these: The Last Room, In my Grandmother's House, Cheryl, Sweat Memories or Breakers)

But the main thing there? The other writers and readers. It is a true community, one that I am proud to be a part of.

And the other tribe? The special needs parent bloggers, including the amazing Autism Moms and Dads. They are the core of why I need to go to this conference, the connection most vital. While I have always sought out other parents in a similar boat, having started the Special Needs Sibling Saturdays guest post series on my blog this past spring has extended my reach and knowledge of this amazing community.

I am thrilled and honored to host the incredible stories of their families that other bloggers are sharing there. And to get to meet so many of my guests at once this upcoming weekend? Beyond priceless.

The difference a year makes...

Last year I came home every night to my family (though they may have been sleeping when I arrived), woke up and breakfasted with them every morning. This year I am traveling across the country, for the first time since I was pregnant with the twins; traveling alone for five days, for the first time since I gave birth.

All this for me, who is always last on my priority list. But also for my family.

Because I am going to meet and exchange information with other special needs parents, to brainstorm up a better world for our families.

Because I am going to try to learn how to turn my writing into something I can make money at. Because I need to begin to return to the world of work soon, and if I can find a way to earn a living doing what I love and do best? My world will swing into a better balance, and my whole family will be the better for it.

And even though I will surely be up all night tonight -- packing, planning, writing out lists of what my children need to be doing each day; the wheres and whens, the thousand things I take care of unconsciously, routinely that need to be spelled out for others (because while Ethan can - and WILL - tell people what they are doing right and wrong for him, Jake as yet cannot, and so it is up to me to make sure his world continues on as he needs it to, while I am gone) -- I know I will arrive in San Diego grinning from ear to ear.

Ready to learn.

Ready to connect.

Ready to meet my tribes.

Writers, over-sharers, special needs parents.

Bloggers all. My people. Yes.


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Sunday, July 31, 2011

SOC Sunday: Whew!

THANK GOODNESS it's time for a Stream of Consciousness Sunday post, because I just don't think I have a "real" post in me. And the typos in these things? Part of the charm. Wheeee, letting 'er rip.....

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Hey it's August tomorrow. AUGUST!!!!  That means I'm done! Slapping this post up on my blog means I got through NaBloPoMo - a whole month of posting every day. WHEW!

Proof that  I survived my boys' 9th birthday party yesterday exists here: I lived to write this post today.  It has been an insane, whirlwind week. And I have no idea how I am going to be ready to leave on Wednesday afternoon to be away for 5 days. I've never left me kids for 5 days, not even once. but they are 9, nine, NINe! (amazing how they are getting older while I have'nt aged at all)

I will surely forget to pack underwear or something equally important, but I am going to a city after all, not the ends of the earth, so nothing is going to kill me (I hope). I am excited and also daunted. Not by the conference (totally un-anxious about that) but by all the prep.

Yes, I made amazing birthday cakes even though one of them had a slight disaster on the way to the party (note to self: round cake + travel = oops!) and picture proof will show up soon.  Today we go to a friend's place up in the Bronx where there is a pool.

I  have always had the boys parties on Sunday before, tihs is the first Saturday, so since they were 4 and in camp / summer school I was always able to say goodbye and then clean up & rest / recuperate in peace the day after. I so do NOt have the energy to entertain boys - so plopping them in a pool and me beside it and in it occasionally. a godsend *(Thakns. Lori)*

The fact that I have one bathing suit that still fits. excellent. (Note to self: next time you lose weight do NOT give away all your "fat clothes" especially the bathing suits.)

OK, guess I gotta get out of my jammies now and get the family packed up and out the door!

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Well, I just got a phone call telling me the pool day may be off - my friend's elderly mother is not feeling well, and she may have to take her to the hospital.  Oh, well, so it goes in Sandwich Generation life. Now to come up with a plan B...

New to SOCS?  It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump.  Want to try it?  Here are the rules…
  • Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
  • Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spell-checking. This is writing in the raw.
You can do it, too!  Click on the picture link and let's hear your 5 minutes of brilliance...

Looking for comments? To read or leave a comment, click on THIS post's title, or HERE, to bring you to the post's page view. Comments should appear below.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

SNSS: A Family Mosaic


Today's wonderful SNSS guest is Mama Apples of the blog Apples and Autobots. And she? Really has her hands full. Really. And that's an understatement. Think I'm exaggerating?

The tagline for her blog is: "The chronicles of two parents raising four children: a high energy little boy with Asperger's, his girly girl neurotypical twin sister, a quirky four-year-old daughter (who also has autism), and a nineteen month old baby boy in Early Intervention. Oh... mom also teaches middle school. Welcome to the crazy train!"

Yes. Four kids. Three on the spectrum. And a household full of love and understanding. Right now they are holding their breath to see where on the spectrum the littlest one lies, hoping that they can stave off regression.

Mama apples is a wonderful writer, a pleasure to read. Incredibly moving when she's being serious, incredibly funny when she'd being lighthearted.     

So come now, read about her unique and beautiful family here:

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A Family Mosaic - by Mama Apples

My husband and I are the parents of four children.  Three of them have autism spectrum disorders and one does not.  Our children’s relationships are incredibly complicated.  I suppose they are like a mosaic — beautiful from a distance, but if you peer closely, you can see the cracks and gaps that we’ve had to fill in over the years, the places where the pieces don’t quite meet.
 
The individual pieces of our mosaic are, on the surface, beautiful in their simplicity.  Yet, careful inspection reveals complex patterns and even a few stress cracks born of being forced together.

‘Bot is our oldest child.  He’s nine, and he has Asperger’s Syndrome.  He’s like a gaudily painted piece of porcelain.  He’s a clown, a connoisseur of slapstick.  He tries to be a little tough guy, but his autism leaves him brittle, easily broken by too much sensory input or changes in routine.
 
His bright, colorful personality isn’t always enough to camouflage his chipped spots. He doesn’t socialize well, even though he desperately wants to, leading him to say embarrassing things to strangers.
 
At times I can see his twin sister visibly cringe at his antics.  Their relationship is strained more than non-womb mates because Princess never gets a break from him.  They spend recess at school together.  They can’t help but be compared to each other by teachers. This is true of all twins, but autism adds an entirely different dynamic to their twinship.

Chronologically they are only a minute apart.  However, ‘Bot is years behind Princess socially and emotionally.  Princess has remarked before that she wishes she’d have had a twin sister instead of a twin brother.  I can’t help but wonder if she feels twice cheated—denied the sister she wanted and forever paired with a brother so intrinsically different from her.

Princess is like a piece of highly polished quartz rock.  She is very girly and creative.  She has a sparkling smile and a keen, sharp mind.  She possesses a lovely spirit.  If you spend a significant amount of time with her, you can see that she is mature for her years.

That in itself is not a bad thing, necessarily, but her maturity is the result of nine years of having autistic siblings.  Princess has to make concessions to her siblings on a daily basis, whether it’s giving up TV time for four-year-old Tinkerbell to watch the same movies over and over, or allowing ‘Bot to push the shopping cart, even though she really wants to do it.  It’s easier not to fight him.  And it’s very unfair.

However, what worries me the most for Princess is not the number of times she has to give up a little.  Those are minor scratches on the surface of her soul.  It’s the deep gouges that worry me.  The times when her twin explodes and focuses his rage on her.  We’ve had to physically restrain him many times to keep him from hurting her, because it’s true, you know, the saying that you hurt the ones you love the most.

The scars left when even her accomplishments are a sacrifice.  You see, she’s an honor student, and ‘Bot struggles with academics.  Who do you think gets the most homework help? 

Chores are a battle in most families, but my kids take it to a whole other level.  ‘Bot and Tinkerbell have a hard time with following directions and staying on task.  Princess always ends up doing the lion’s share of the work.

We can keep glossing over these things, but eventually there will come a point that a girl’s day with mom just isn’t going to be enough to make her feel better.

And yet, she’s so strong.  She was one of ‘Bot’s first therapists, forcing him to engage and interact.  I firmly believe that the early socialization she provided him made a dramatic impact on the course of his autism.  She’s a wonderful big sis to the little ones.

Yes, she gets frustrated, especially with Tinkerbell, but she’s so good with both little ones.  She does speech a lot with Tugboat, and she did floortime with Tinkerbell.  She endures with a smile and adheres to her siblings with loyalty and love.  However, inside of her is a little girl who has always had to be so much more than just a little girl.

Tinkerbell, our daughter with autism is like a fine piece of china.  She is wafer thin, most likely from hours and hours of pacing and walking in circles.  She inspires protectiveness and gentleness in everyone she meets — well, almost.

On one hand she and ‘Bot are perfect playmates. ‘Bot’s social age and abilities are closer to age five or six, so he and Tink are on the same level in many ways.  Also, ‘Bot likes to be in control of play situations, scripting what should happen to everyone involved.
 
This works out brilliantly with Tinkerbell, because like many girls with Asperger’s/HFA, she is a born imitator, and she loves being told exactly what to do!  They generally play well, but we have to watch them carefully because ‘Bot tends to get too rough without meaning to hurt her, and when he does get mad at her, he’ll push her down or hit because he doesn’t make allowances for her age.
 
She also picks up his bad habits. A few weeks ago she embarrassed my poor husband by talking about her “nuts” in the OT waiting room!

Tinkerbell loves to follow Princess around.  Out of all of our kids, I think that their relationship is the most “normal.”  Tink is the typical annoying little sister, and Princess loves her to bits.  I get so much joy out of watching Princess paint Tink’s fingernails (after Tink has spent hours begging), and I can’t help but laugh at Princess’s incredulous expression when Tinkerbell immediately washes the polish off.

Tugboat is my beautiful, colorful piece of glass, the sharp edges of autism clearly present, but there’s time yet for Early Intervention to dull the edges.  His place in our mosaic, however, is already clearly established.  He is the baby of the family. 

Tinkerbell calls him “Baby Wild.”  She has a point. He manages to wreak havoc everywhere he goes.  He plucks blocks out of Tinkerbell’s line of toys.  He lines up bottles of Princess’s nail polish.  He loves roughhousing with ‘Bot, to the point that they aren’t allowed to play unsupervised. 

He is loved by all of his siblings, though it was a little rough between him and Tinkerbell in the beginning.  His wet fingers and toy grabbing didn’t exactly endear him to her.  Tugboat has communication delays, but the love he has for his older siblings shines through his eyes.

My husband and I practice the art of parenting day by day, carefully shaping and arranging our mosaic.  I have no idea if we’re doing it right.  Nothing is set just yet.  Sometimes one piece of our special puzzle needs to be mended, so we place it in the center and do the best that we can to hold it together.
 
Does that make any of the other pieces less important?  Of course not.  If one piece were removed, our beautiful creation would be left with a gaping hole, and we’d never find another piece that could perfectly fill that space.
 
What frightens me is the delicacy of the entire thing.  The idea that the pieces could be so easily broken, even our strong little chunk of granite.  I just pray that the glue we’re using, our love for each other and each of them, is strong enough to weather any storm.

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I am so impressed by Mama Apples, how she takes her family's very complicated situation in stride. I struggle to balance the needs of my two. I can barely imagine doing it with such a disparate four.

And now that you have read her here you MUST go back and read her on her blog, Apples and Autobots. This is not optional, you really must.

Start with this post about a TOUGH day in sibling-land. Then go to this lovely one, about those moments of seeing how different children are in comparison to others, and coming to terms with acceptance.

Read this one, but not when you are already sad or depressed, it might make things worse at first. It's the tale of an awful meltdown, last winter and Mama Apples most painful experience, as a parent. And then this post is a call to arms for how folks can help a family when they see a meltdown in progress.

In this post, she has a line that I just found so wonderful for both its imagery and how it resonated, that I just have to share it: "I wish I could pry off the top of his little head and look around for a while at what's going on in there."  Anyone who has a child with a communication disorder, or whose kid thinks in a unique and normally opaque manner is nodding their head right now (and hopefully not looking for the can-opener).

Finally, you should follow Mama Apples on Twitter, and go "like" her on her Facebook page, where she is just as outspoken, lovely, lyrical and intimate  as she is on her blog.

Thank you so much, Mama Apples for gracing my blog with your beautiful words about your amazing family. (And for saving my butt. You know why.)


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Friday, July 29, 2011

Nine Years and Counting


Nine years ago today my life changed...

Undeniably...

Irrevocably...

Completely...

(At exactly 10:12 - and then again at 10:13 - AM)

In ways I could not possibly presage, did not thoroughly fathom until, suddenly, there were two hearts, beating furiously in the world, that had moments ago echoed solely, safely, inside the cavern of my body.

Their cries piercing the hushed hum of the operating theater, the chill but joyous room where I first met my sons, and then cried out, myself, as they whisked them away, too soon. Too soon!

I squawked, demanded. (As much as a half-bodied woman, pinned to a table, being re-viscerated can be said to demand.) My obstetrician, a mother herself was supportive. I really loved her.

She was whip smart and had a wicked, dry sense of humor. She actually came in on her day off (also, coincidentally her own mother’s birthday) to deliver my boys, as at 39 weeks it was time for them to come OUT.

Hospitals are full of rules, and C-sections are very medical ways to birth babies. It’s really, truly surgery. They take a baby out, hold it up in the air in front of you for the briefest of moments, say “See, here’s your baby?” and then they whisk him away to do hospitally things to him.

As I was making noises about wanting to actually HOLD my babies, there was resistance from the nurses, they had their jobs to do. But my wonderful OB had my back. “You’ve got two, hand one over to her!” she commanded, and thus I found my son Jacob thrust into my arms, wrapped up like a little burrito in one of those ubiquitous striped hospital blankets.

I held him close to my face, peered into his.

The moment my son and I locked eyes has forever been seared into my brain. I had never experienced love at first sight before, never known that singular moment when everything turns betwixt one breath and the next; a shift of axis wobbling proportion.

And here, now, was that for me. Because here was the face of my son, unknown until the moment before, and now emblazoned on my very soul; and I knew with unwavering certainty that it was the beginning of our story, a lifetime of love.

And I knew that here was someone, one of two someones, whom I would die for. Someone for whom pacifist me would fight, tooth and claw, for; whom I would throw myself in front of a bus for.

And then, when they took Jacob from me and handed me Ethan, my heart doubled up, while remaining the same. An unexplained phenomena that just is: how a heart can be full to the brim and then fill again without ever emptying, expanding infinitely but remaining intact. 

My heart was still firmly encased in the cage of my body, and yet now also walking around the world beating away inside these two tiny beings at the same time. How can that be? Shhh, that’s one of the secrets of motherhood.

Finally they were done putting me back together and I was sent to the recovery room next door, my boys to the maternity ward upstairs.

I sent my husband with the babies, to join the grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins who were gathering to meet the newest family members. I went to recovery alone. And thus began the longest two hours of my life.

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This is another piece of the long story of my boys' beginnings.

Earlier this summer, I showed the world how I "rocked my bump" in a post I wrote to link up over at Shell's place.

Last year, I wrote a letter to my sons on their eighth birthday, recounting my joy at their coming into the world.

I thought I would have told my whole conception, pregnancy and birth story by now. I thought I would have had the time, that my life might be less of a whirlwind this year (foolish me). And yet it seems to spin, if possible, even faster still.

But no matter how quick the dance, I must pause each July 29th to give thanks, to marvel again at the miracle (modern, medical) that is the existence of my two beautiful boys.

Hello, my loved ones.

Happy Birthday, Ethan and Jacob.

Jacob and Ethan.

Today, nine years ago you graced the world with your presence.

Today, nine years ago you made me a mom.

My world has never been the same.

Thank you, from the top to the bottom of my heart.

I'm linking this post up to Maxabella's I'm grateful for... and this week I don't have to tell you why.


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Thursday, July 28, 2011

Nearly There

It's official.

I've run out of things to blather on about today.

But I'm doing NaBloPoMo, committed to posting every day this month, so blather I must.

I *AM* going to finish this thing, and I am so nearly there. Four more days to go.

Actually that's not true at all, the running out of ideas thing. I have a million ideas, but what I have run out of, of course, is time. I have a dozen half-written posts, some of which I am truly excited about and am looking forward to finishing, but just don't have the time to do them justice right now.
 
Time, time, time. What I need, and have so very precious little of... time.

Between the boys' upcoming birthday (tomorrow! nearly there for that, too), the upcoming trip to BlogHer with all the childcare planning and other attendant preparation that goes into that  -- vitamin pours for Jake, playdates set up for Ethan, emergency contact lists to write, new babysitters to train, and oh, yeah, packing *my* stuff for the trip -- I am swamped.

I have really enjoyed writing every day, feel it's kicked my writing mojo up a notch into high gear, even. In fact, what I seem to want to do, most all the time right now, is to write. (And yes, I have a post about *that* half-written, sitting in the hopper.)

But also? I am looking forward to being able to take a break, a day off if I feel like it, or if my kids' birthday is the next day and there are cakes to make, presents to wrap, "To-Do" lists to write, check, curse at.

So why are there not enough hours in the day? Well, I am possibly not the most efficient person on the planet. Something's got to give, and lately it's been sleep. And that is never, not EVER, a good thing.

But I can't help myself. I have blog posts to write... birthdays to plan... blog conferences to pack for... friends to tweet with... playdates to schedule... a husband to (occasionally) talk to... blog posts to read and comment on... social stories to write for Jacob... an elderly mother to visit with, shepherd to doctor appointments... vitamins, supplements and medicines to inventory, buy and pour for Jacob... an elderly Aunt's care to oversee... breakfasts and dinners to serve, lunches to pack... autism research to keep up on... zombies to kill... bathroom conversations to have with Ethan...

And getting enough sleep, taking care of myself? Too often just falls to the bottom of the list. Forgotten.

Next month I am going to think about, write, focus on that: taking care of me, figuring out how to put my own oxygen mask on first (as the eloquent Stark. Raving. Mad. Mommy puts it).

But tonight I am going to wrap up this post, finish icing the GF/CF cupcakes for Jacob's in-class birthday celebration tomorrow, go over the next week's crazy calendar with my husband, and sink into bed exhausted, to catch what few hours of sleep I can before the alarm goes off at 5:45 and I get up and do it all over again.

G'night all.


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