outside's for suckahs.

As a stay at home mom to three charming, little maniacs, I often feel guilty for the things I don't do with them. Alone. By myself. Just me. The play dates I don't make. The outside I don't like to go out in. But they're crazy. And don't listen. And two-thirds of them hate whatever the one-third is doing, and try to escape. In two directions. I'm only one sleep deprived mom here. And I only got two arms. And a hip that likes to sieze up when I have to run. In two different directions.

So anyway, I usually ignore those guilty feelings, for indoor activities. But yesterday was Christmas, and we got them scooters, and helmets. And we live here, in New England, where the day after Christmas is of course 60 degrees. Daddy stopped by during his work day, and said, "I thought you'd be outside S-C-O-O-T-I-N-G..." he didn't look thrilled when I told him it was a two man job, so we'd wait til he got home.

So fine, whatever, I got them dressed, and outside we went.

For 38 seconds, all 3 of them S-C-O-O-T-E-D.

Then for 42 minutes, one tried to break into the car everytime I turned around, one tried going into the house over, and over, until I said we were going in, and then he hid behind the barrels, and one S-C-O-O-T-E-D.

I gave up the whole outside activity when Baduka ran through dog poop.

I then had to wrangle them all back in. Baduka was fine with it, because inside is where YouTube lives. The New Kid continued hiding by the barrels. Dizzy screamed, clinging to his scooter, repeating, "no in! NOOOOO IIIINNNN!" I managed to convince them over Dizzy's tears, that it was because they needed lunch.

Oh, and that dog? The one who's poop was the reason we were going back inside? Who had been outside with us, for all 42 minutes? Running, barking, and having a grand ole doggy time?

He came in, and promptly threw up all over the kitchen floor.

weird wednesdays

Wednesdays, such strange days here with the best boys.

Today we have aba here from 11-2:30, which is seriously, too long. It makes the day drag, we are bored, and I'm not convinced it works. So yeah, obviously Dizzy needed to jazz the day up.

I found the bathroom door wide open, which is not what we do, because duh, that's where the electronics get charged, and the open bathroom door usually means someones using the nabi unauthorized. But no, Dizzy was sitting on the toilet.

Okay.

When I asked if he was peeing, he shook it around a little and said, "no, it broken."

Then he sat a few minutes longer, insisted on underpants, and went to play.

I went to pee a little bit later, and noticed something in the tub. I called in Dizzy...

"Is this your pee?"

Big smile, "yessss!" with a head nod.

"Why did you pee in the tubby, when we have a toilet right there?"

Shoulder shrug, shy smile, and an aww-shucks kick.

Well, if you're gonna be adorable about being a weirdo...

kids, the weirdest people I know...

This morning I got Baduka up for school. During getting him dressed I did my normal yell/singing for the other two to "wake up, wake up, wherever you arrrrreeeee!" and "Olly, Olly oxen freeeeee!" It took a couple rounds, but the New Kid stumbled out, all adorably rumpled. And while I was changing him I yell/sang a few more rounds for Dizzy. Nothing worked. He didn't want any part of waking up this morning.

So I did what every good mother does in this situation.

Said I was leaving without him.

He jumped out of bed, ran to get changed, mumbly crybabying the whole way. In my head I yell/sang "Tricked ya, again!" And went to change his diaper.

It was dry.

And in what can only be explained, probably completely illogically by a 3 year old, Dizzy burst into tears. He was actually horribly upset he DIDN'T PEE HIS PANTS. Seriously, he was so sad/mad/upset he kept crying, and trying to get me to change him. I kept trying to tell him he didn't pee yet. He was determined though, so I used my tricks. I asked if he wanted to use the potty, nope. I tickled him, nope. I rubbed his back, nope.

So I did what every good mother does in this situation.

I left him there crying, and put the other two in the car.

And wouldn't you know it? I tricked him again. The fear of being left dry and alone, made him pee his pants. Someone smiled his whole way to the car.

Just what I needed.

These last few weeks haven't been easy for me, in the motherhood department. Having kids is way harder than I expected. Then having the added gift of autism, always there, just hanging out with us, makes it so overwhelming sometimes. The schedule, the craziness, the samesamesame. It gets to you in ways you didn't think possible. So today as I was leaving school, after picking up Baduka, and was trying to figure out how to fill the hours til dinner, I was feeling kinda eh about it. Then I pulled into the driveway, realized Dizzy and the New Kid were sleeping, decided to use this time wisely, and drove towards the highway. I stopped at a friend's real quick to drop something off, then headed to Nana. She had some cups for Baduka that I wanted to grab.

I talked with my mom out on the porch for a few, while the boys were in the car, and then said goodbye.

As we were pulling away, all 3 said, "Nana's house! Bounce!" I stopped the car, and asked, "you wanna go jump on the trampoline?" All 3 said, "Yes!" So how could I say no?

What happened next was exactly what I needed. A half hour of giggling, tickling, rolling, and "bounca-bounca-bounca!" These boys are the highlight of my every day. They drive me crazy, make me cry, make themselves cry, and just cause mayhem and destruction, everywhere they go. But for 30 minutes today, we forgot all about that, and laughed and had fun together. Baduka kept asking me to, "STAND UP!" so he could knock me over, laughing the whole time. The New Kid would come running/wobbling/bouncing to ask, "mom! Youuu OH KAY?!" Then laugh as I bounced back up. Dizzy was happy to run in circles and be tackled by Baduka. He absolutely loves the attention Baduka sometimes gives him.

It really was such a great way to reset myself, I couldn't help but get teary eyed on the way home. These boys aren't going to be babies forever, but they will always be my bests.

stress relief, coming soon.

It's been a while... let's catch up, blahblahblah, crazy, blahblahblah, tired, blahblahblah, messy, blahblahblah, somebody pooped. There you go.

One of the things in the blahblahblahs though, was my panic attack, because Baduka got out, and we still have no idea how. I know people don't really understand the fear, and probably, hopefully never have to, of having no idea for 3 minutes where your non verbal, autistic child is. And I hope you never do. It's terrifying. He was luckily found safe in the car, eating a pop tart. But still, no idea how. And that 3 minutes took about 37 years off my life. Thankfully I am working on living forever...

But the scare really pushed us to get him a GPS bracelet. We got the LoJack Safety Net one, and in 7-10 business days, Baduka will be like a human car. We're thinking of calling him Buick.

The bracelet will be worn 24/7, bathing, swimming, sleeping. We got him a watch to practice having something on at all times, and he put it on no problems, slept all night with it, and immediately showed his teacher at school this morning. My stress level has dropped, slightly. When he's got the bracelet on, maybe I'll be able to pee during the day without hovering, one ear towards the door. I know it won't prevent him from being crazy, and leaving, but knowing 1 phone call, and a signal is activated, takes a HUGE weight off my shoulders.

This also makes me want to remind you, ask you, BEG you, if you ever see a child or even an older kid by themselves, and something seems off, wait, watch, ask where their adult is. Better safe than sorry. I am terrified that someday Baduka will get out, and be alone, and no one will stop to help.

Not my normal hilarity, but it's not all fun and games here, and this is important.

Dizzy!

It's been a bit since the last post, because it's summer, and most of my energy must be spent making sure no one's bleeding. I'm doing an okay job. But I realized last night, that during this last few weeks, just how much Dizzy has to say, and I'd really like to tell you all about it.

* He knows all his colors, and let's you know every time he sees something colorful.

* He knows the ABC's and if you start singing, he'll finish.

* He can count to 10.

* He knows animals and their sounds. And yesterday at the zoo, he called all their names, made their sounds, and took their "pitcha! Cheeeeeese!"

* He has learned how to be a tattle-taler, and I'm kinda okay with it. A lot of things around here have been mysteries.

* He knows his body parts. Hearing him say them all from the top of his "Heeeeaaaaadddd!" to his "ButtButtButt!" every tubby time is kinda the reason I like tubby time so much lately.

Dizzy has taken a long time to find his voice in this house. He's the middle kid, with an older autistic brother, who hasn't really shown him what to do, and a little brother who drives everyone crazy. Hearing him speak, and answer questions, and just be the amazing little man that he is, is undeniably wonderful.

Letting things happen.

When you have a kid with autism, every day is an emotional roller coaster. I mean, I guess regular kids drive their parents all the emotions too, but it feels different with Baduka, than what I see with other parents, siblings, and friends. Today, for example, they have been awake for an hour and a half. They have already eaten together, pushed each other, cried, made a mess, played on the porch, and are now watching a movie. They've fought, and made up in their own ways. I have broken up fights, and smiled at them sitting close, and playing together.

But Baduka has been all over the place. He's been happy, sad, mad. Trying to figure out why for each is the frustrating part for me. Not immediately knowing what he wants, and what he wants to do next, makes for very long days of chasing him.

Our kitchen is small, with a little, I call it an alleyway, spot where our sink, and counter are. Its almost like it should be a skinny walk-in closet, with a window at the end, but someone decided to shove a sink in it instead, and take the door off. Above the sink has cabinets. The cabinets have no doors. People, if you are ever thinking open cabinets are a good idea, I am telling you, IT ISN'T. You can thank me later. Then on the wall opposite the cabinets, we put up shelves, for our cereal, and pretzel stash. Besides the stove, this is probably the most dangerous part of the kitchen, because it's where all our glass, and sharp objects are. Baduka has been climbing the wall with the window, up onto the counter where the dish drainer is, for weeks.

Before he was doing it to reach snacks. But the last few days, he's been touching the glasses. Paying close attention to the 2 wine glasses I haven't broken yet. We kept taking him down, but he hasn't stopped trying.

This morning, after all the other things he's been emotional about, I decided to not stop him, but help him. I took the two glasses, and him down, and said, "Bud, what do you want to do?" He took both glasses, and made the motion of he was going to smash them together. So I said, "you want to cheers?" He smiled. I said, "okay I'm going to show you how gently... Gently. Like this." We clinked glasses a few times, said, "Cheers!" Then I said, "one more time, okay? Then we'll put them back, and go do something else." We clinked one more time, he handed me his glass, and went outside.

I have started to come to realize, that changing HIM isn't helping US. He has his wants, and needs, and right now the ability to voice it isn't there. But if we just let him follow through on the things he is so focused on, he knows what he's thinking matters, too. I may not be a mind reader yet, but I know he's happy knowing I care enough to try to read his.

mama never told me there'd be days like this...

Dizzy had a doctor's appointment today after school. It was at 4:30, which is a weird traffic judgment time for me. So we left immediately. And got there 2 hours early. Even with a detour down the long way, so I could get Starbucks. By that time Dizzy was car napping, until that moment when he woke up screaming his face off, and made the New Kid cry too. Then that turned into the New Kid, and Baduka yelling, "Nonuts!!" and Dizzy was just yelling. So, since we had an hour and a half, we left the parking lot, and went to Dunks. I love giving all of Daddy's money to coffee establishments.

Anyway, they were happily covering themselves in glazed donut, while I sat there wondering how much longer I could hold my bladder, and how early was too early to go inside. Apparently 45 minutes early is too early, but I almost peed my pants.

Inside, they were good in the wagon, for about 15 minutes. But the stupid train was broken, and they wanted to watch the fish tank. Fast forward about 14 seconds, and I was practically tackling them all back into the wagon, because no one wanted to watch the fish. They wanted to swim with them. For real, doctor's waiting rooms should be made of bouncy house, and ball pit.

Then we finally got called in to the room. They promptly screamed their faces off. Well, besides Baduka, but he had a magazine, so he was reading. It was so bad, that by the time the doctor came in, I was sweating, Dizzy was screaming for his pants, the New Kid was trying to escape, and we had to yell just to be heard.

Blahblahblah, doctor stuff, blahblahblah.

The nurse came in to give Dizzy his shot, and he just pointed at the New Kid to take it for him, and sobbed. Seriously, pediatricians, and their nurses, have hearts of stone. How could they handle that all day long?! Dizzy was so upset he wouldn't take the band aid, but when the nurse left he slapped a Jake and the Neverland Pirate sticker on his needle hole. He also cried the whole way home about his, "booboo!"

We made it home in one piece, where Baduka climbed the beer fridge, and handed out freezepops, the New Kid got naked, and Dizzy sat on the porch sulking.

Oh, and I dropped an entire bin of Legos on the floor. It wasn't that bad, they mixed in nicely with the box of buttons that broke their fall.

Bad days.

Some days Baduka gets out of school emotional. I never really know what it's from either. Maybe something happened, maybe he doesn't feel good. He doesn't have the ability yet to tell me, and it's one of the harder things to accept with his autism.

Today was one of those days.

His teacher didn't mention a bad day, or anything happening, so there isn't any clue as to why he cried the whole way home, while repeating, "are you sure you want to quit?" I got him to calm down a little by telling him to go in and pick a freezepop color. It helped, but he was still a little upset.

I asked if he wanted to watch The Blue Umbrella from the Monsters University extras again. He smiled his first smile since we got home. Dizzy and the New Kid are pretty much over The Blue Umbrella, so I didn't have high hopes for this going well. He played it a few times, then prompted me to select the setup screen. All three are now happily on the couch, with their blankies and milk, watching Monsters University, with the subtitles and director's commentary on. No one is fighting. Dizzy even sat closer to Baduka, the way they like to sometimes.

Days like this I am so thankful I had two more maniacs. Sure, they fight constantly. And they think bodyslams are better than hugs. Goodness knows they hate sharing, anything, ever. But for Baduka to have two brothers by his side is something I know he will appreciate someday. They know him, they "get" him, they love him. And for that I will never be able to thank them enough.

Don't do this. Thanks.

The other day at the playground, while I was standing guard at the gate, because the New Kid likes to full steam ahead his way through it, where he stops laughing hysterically at the sidewalk, a grandmother told me that Baduka had came to her, and said, "I want monkey bars, please!" He held his arms up, and smiled at her one of his best smiles. He has just recently figured out the joy of the monkey bars, and obviously doesn't care who he asks for help. I apologized, because he grabbed her hand and all that. It then turned into a conversation about him being autistic. She had lots of questions, and seemed truly interested, but something she said hit me weird, and I can't stop thinking about it.

She said, "it's good that he didn't get the severe kind, you know? He doesn't seem too afflicted. He's very social."

Like I said, she was nice, and old, and I didn't know how to say that she had no idea what life with him is like. So I didn't. I just answered her questions about school, and therapy, and hoped she would leave soon.

Because yes, he's social, but that means he'll ask any stranger at the park for help. He will also sit on random laps, and try playing with your phone. It's terrifying.

We were at the park, and usually only go to the park, because we have run out of every other thing to do that interests him. We have yet to figure out his favorite thing, besides the Nabi, which he broke by smacking it across the room, not 15 minutes before this park trip, because I didn't give him enough time to prepare for a park trip.

So days like today, no school, but with ABA later in the day, we have had nothing to keep him happy. My not too afflicted son has been up, down, around, and crazy since 7:30 this morning. We've finally had a bit of quiet while watching the Pixar short The Blue Umbrella on repeat, at least 13 times in an hour. Poor Dizzy keeps turning the tv off, and he finally on his own came to the kitchen to play PlayDoh, but Baduka followed him, stole the PlayDoh, licked it, and left Dizzy crying.

These are the kinds of days autism gives him. Restless. He can't answer what he wants to do, so he searches for it himself. It's exhausting.

I guess the point of all this, and if you got this far, is unless you live it, don't be that grandmother at the park. Ask questions if you want to know, but don't say it's probably not that bad. Because it makes us hate you.

appreciate the unexplainable

I spend most days asking these children, "why are you doing that?!" I don't often get answers, but I still ask. Just in case.

Today, Dizzy dumped every toy on the floor. All of them. I asked why, but he just smiled, and growled a dragon at me. Okay.

But his last thing was to put every book from the bin on the chair. This time I didn't need to ask why, because he yelled, "Momma, look! Books! TAH-DAH!" Which yes, doesn't really answer why, at that moment, but it was actually the best thing he did all day...

Because, the New Kid. The New Kid decided today was Naked Day. He has trouble with days obviously, gets it from me, and kept taking off his clothes, gets it from Daddy. I dressed him several times, and he kept taking his clothes off. I came in from the other room, and sat down. Checked Facebook. Heard a strange, tinkly splash.

The New Kid peed in the book bin, that Dizzy emptied 10 minutes before.

He's a psychic. And we don't have to read urine soaked books later. It really is the little things that you learn to look forward to.

Can't be good at everything...

I've decided something. I mean, I pretty much already knew this, but I've decided to put it in writing. I am TERRIBLE at potty training. I'm willing to be okay with this, because really? I'm pretty okay at a lot of other things.

My reasons? Well, Baduka is 4, Dizzy is almost 3 (Sunday,) and the New Kid is a year and a half. None of them want to pee in the potty. We've tried.

With ABA at home, they tried with Baduka for 2 weeks. He wore underpants. They had Spiderman and Pixar characters, to get him excited, Excited! He was so excited by this process, he peed everywhere, but the potty. Toys, books, my leg. At school he would pull down his pants, and twiddle his favorite toy, while walking with his pants around his ankles. We're back to diapers.

Dizzy convinced me to buy a potty at Target a few weeks ago. It was the Royal Prince version, and the box had a Try Me button, to hear the magical sounds it makes when a kid finally pees in the bowl. The whole time in the carriage they pressed that button, we got home, and they fought over pressing that button. I told them that if they peed in the potty, and put their poops in there, it would play that as a very fancy, "Yay! You did it!" They don't care, they took the music maker out from under the bowl, and promptly fought over who got to press it next. That Royal Potty now lives in our dark end of the hallway, because no one wants to sit on it, and I have no idea where the sound maker went.

In the bathroom we have one of those put on the adult seat, child seats, that hangs on the side of the bowl. They never get on it right though, and if you try to squish them back a little, they think you're attempting to flush them down the toilet, and cling to your arms for dear life. But anyway... Sometimes during tubby time they'll put it on the seat, and pretend to want to use it, but they don't. This morning though I had hope. I took Dizzy's diaper off and he had just a tiny spot of pee, and I knew he had more, so I brought him in the bathroom. He said, "potty?" I said, "yeah, let's put your pee in it!" He sat down, smiled, looked around, and peed straight across the seat, and all over my leg. Said, "all done, potty!" Got up, and walked out of the bathroom.  He then turned around, said, "potty!" And peed all over the floor.

I believe me, and my peed on pants, are throwing in the pee soaked towels. Diapers for life.

The power of comprehension

This morning Baduka woke up early. A little too early for my liking, but he's cute, and I needed a cuddle. I'm so happy he did though, because I finally had some one on one with him, to answer one of my questions about that beautiful head of his.

A few months ago, we realized he taught himself to read. But we weren't sure if it was all just memorization, or if he actually comprehended what he was saying. He can read books cover to cover. He can read signs, and text messages over my shoulder. He has a large vocabulary of words, and a play list of songs he sings all day long. But it's hard to tell what's just memorization and what's not, because he doesn't have normal, spontaneous speech. He can read the boxes, bottles, and labels, but he can't say, "mom, I'm thirsty." It's confusing, and a lot of times, very frustrating.

As we were laying cuddled up, I decided to test him. I opened a blank text, and typed in, "kiss mom". He read it out loud, smiled and kissed my cheek. I typed, "touch your eyebrows". He read it out loud, smiled and touched his eyebrows. I continued, with hide under the blanket, get a book, sing wheels on the bus. He did all of them.

I was in tears, even now I have goosebumps up and down my arms. I called Daddy, he didn't even know what to say, it's that amazing.

We got up to get ready. In the bathroom he turned on the light, I typed, "turn off the light please." He did. He climbed the stool, I typed, "feet on the floor, please." He climbed down. I typed to him, to brush his teeth, and wash his hands. He did that too.

We got to school, and I was telling his teacher about our morning. She looked so surprised,  amazed, and happy. I hope he doesn't pull his stubborn act, and not do it for her.

After dropping him off, me, Dizzy, and the New Kid went to Target. Yes, that was me, the Ecstatic Autism Mom buying a label maker, labels, and more lamination. This kid will be able to read his entire house soon.

true.

Things I know to be true:

* Sometimes a coat of paint is all you need.

* Boys are gross.

* When a kid with a speech delay spends months with early intervention, and you're the one that helps him the most, and he wakes up one day, says, "hi" to your good morning, and then when you go to hug him, he says, "I pooped." Well, that right there, is the best. No matter, how gross.

* Three boys in diapers means pretty much poop all day. It never ends.

* Being married to someone who knows when to save the last bite of a perfect sandwich for you, laughs at all your dirty, inappropriate jokes, doesn't make fun of the piece of hair that hasn't stayed in place for 2 days, and knows how to mix the perfect drink, is like winning the lottery.

* Making lunch while the kids are in the other room, leaving you alone for a few silent minutes, but being "supervised" by their dad, so you don't have to panic at every noise, is like a mini vacation. And on that vacation, if you choose to still hide under the snack shelf, and inhale cheese balls, who can really judge you?

There's probably a lot more that I know, but this is good enough for now.

There's something strange going on around here...

It's not a hidden, deep dark, secret that kids are little weirdos, or anything, but mine reach levels of weird, that really make me question who I hang out with all day. Because they're really, very weird.

Like take Baduka, he has all sorts of strange going on. Some from autism, some from just being related to me (I totally understand his need to lick Tide Laundry Pods,) but his hatred of cuts and scabs is getting awkward. He picks scabs off, because he hates them, but that just creates new scabs. It's a neverending process. Goodness forbid, I have a blemish of my own. Then there was today. The other day Dizzy fell while holding a toy, and scratched a 2ish inch booboo onto his temple. They sat next to each other in the wagon at the grocery store. While I was dragging them around behind me, Baduka picked the scab off of it. Dizzy never said a word, or made a noise. Which means HE LET HIM. Why?!

Speaking of Dizzy, he spent 2 hours today wearing a t-shirt as pants. Seriously. Legs in the arm holes. Lost his mind when it fell down. It got to the point that I actually, pegged the waist, around his waist, to help it stay up. Which means I'm an enabler. I encourage the weird. And why? Because every time I said, "Want real pants?" He looked like he might cry, and answered back, with a lingering, "No". Who am I to judge his fashion sense? I haven't changed my shirt in 2 days.

And then there's our friend, the New Kid. He's found his own friend, the Penis, or PeePee, as he introduces it EVERY TIME I change his diaper. He then introduces whatever is around him, to his PeePee. Books, matchbox cars, puzzle pieces, cereal...

Sometimes I think they do these things so I question my own sanity. If it continues, should I crochet my own straitjacket?

Mom, Mom, Mom

I'm that mom today, that just wishes someone would listen to her when she says anything.

I'm that mom today, that just wishes she had a clone specially made for sleeping for both of us.

I'm that mom today, that heard "Mom" being screeched, screamed, moaned, yelled, and whispered too many times, and now wishes her name was Bob.

I'm that mom today, that yelled in the car for one of her kids to just stop saying mom for no reason. And then when that kid at a red light said it one last time with the saddest little face, then pointed to the front seat and said, "raroo" her heart broke into a bajillion pieces, because the whole time he was saying it, this time today, was because he wanted to hold his brother's kangaroo for the ride. It's not his fault he doesn't know many words, and the one word he has perfected is supposed to get the attention of the one person who knows what he always wants and needs. And he worked so hard to find the real word that would get him what he needed to take the ride. Because his mom was too tired to know this time.

I'm that mom today, that drove all the way to the faraway Target, because they have a drive through Starbucks in the parking lot and 2 of the kids are car napping, and it's finally quiet enough, to actually think. And what am I thinking about? How bad I feel for being so tired today that I wish my name was Bob.

I'm that mom today, that forgot to appreciate how amazing it is to actually be a mom.

highlight reel

It's been a long week here, some crazy, some exhausting, some ugh. Here's some awesome though--

* Dizzy has talked soooo much! By himself! Things like, "ouch that hurts!" "Need pants!" "Look a bird!" He amazes me too. It's like he finally realized words get you things. Like hugs, and kisses, and high fives. Important stuff to a kid who's favorite thing is clapping.  Enthusiastically. For everything.

* The New Kid woke up crying. So I said, "(Baduka) let's go see what's wrong..." He ran in to the bedroom, and said, "What happened? Are you okay?" And hugged him! The New Kid obviously didn't realize the awesomeness of the situation so he kicked him, but still!

* We got a Nabi 2 Tablet, to try and use better communication tools with Baduka. Fingers crossed we figure it out. He spent a few hours playing games on it, getting used to it. Best part? He didn't lose his mind when I took it away. Huge deal in this house.

* The New Kid farted on my lap, looked up with a shocked face, said, "I faaahhht!" And chuckled so hard he farted again.

*The texts from Daddy that said, he cashed his check at a bank next to a liquor store, so he already bought the wine.

This is the life.

Just a regular Wednesday

It's Wednesday. The house is a mess. There's dishes to wash. Laundry to fold, and wash, and dry. There's toys, and clothes, and popcorn everywhere.

What am I doing though?

Sitting on the couch, listening to Baduka reading, and acting out, From Head To Toe by Eric Carle, for Dizzy.

He's very animated, and there's wiggles, and pointing, and animal sounds, and giggles.

I've heard him reading and acting out this book many times before. I've even recorded it to post to Facebook, so you can all experience the cute awesomeness of it.

I actually recorded it again today. But I won't be uploading it, in all of its cute awesomeness. Are you wondering why?

Baduka is doing today's reading naked.

Anyone shocked?

School's in session!

Last week was April vacation, and I am pretty sure it wasn't that bad, or I drank enough to forget it. I do know that Baduka wasn't nearly as crazy as possible, and Dizzy and the New Kid were probably just regular.

Today Baduka went back to school. We got home from picking him up at 2 o'clock.

In those 4ish hours, there's been running, jumping, yelling, and maybe some tears. From me.

They've also shared in the general noise level.

There has been Legos, Playmobil, markers, crayons, PlayDoh. Climbing, jumping, pushing, yelling, crying, kisses, and hugs.

But the highlight?

New Kid and Dizzy being chased down the hallway, past the laundry baskets, over the dog, around the cat, by Baduka.

Wearing nothing but a shirt.

Ahhh, back to normal.

Let's Play!

For his 4th birthday, when people asked what Baduka wanted or what they should get him, my answer was, "I don't know," "markers," "5t pajamas." He likes books and letters and writing. It's been hard to figure out what toys he wants, because we own/have owned almost everything age appropriate, and he's over it.

Then we tried Legos, and realized he loves the guys more than the putting together. And I really think the putting together part will happen when he's a bit older, and then he will LOVE Lego.

I was telling this to his therapy coordinator, asking how we figure out what a kid who doesn't show an interest in most things, would want to play with. She suggested Playmobil since it's a lot like Lego, but not as put togethery.

Me and Baduka went on a date last night to the toy store. I let him wander, big deal for me, because that NEVER happens, to see what he was drawn to. Mostly the things we already have, a 50 dollar motorized kitten, and the TVs at the end of every aisle, showing commercials for the toys surrounding them. So I took it upon myself to pick a Playmobil dollhouse and playground.

When we got home and set it up he spent over an hour playing. Making the guys talk to each other. Do you know how happy I was to hear, "Hi Friends!"? A kid like Baduka isn't really great at pretend play. Seeing him set up the kitchen and having the parents clink glasses, makes me tear up a little. Putting a boy figure on the swing and saying, "1,2,3, Underdog!" Amazing.

This boy of mine surprises me every day.

Wednesdays.

Wednesdays are tough days for Baduka. He is home from school, and it takes a lot to try and figure out what he wants to do. So he usually spends the day climbing, crying, screaming, opening, closing, jumping, running, falling, and hitting. It's exhausting, and sometimes when Daddy gets home, he asks questions like, "What happened to his eye?!" I answer with things like, "No clue, pour me a drink." That was this Wednesday.

We then thought we needed to cut his hair. It was long, in his eyes, and he was twisting the back into bald spots and knots. That was 20 minutes of screaming and sweating. But he looks so very handsome. Long pieces and all.

Thursday when I picked him up from school, one of his teachers asked if I cut his hair for a medical reason. Umm, huh?

At one point during the day, while he was putting his puzzles together, he burst out yelling, "X-RAY! X-RAY!" Over and over. They had no explanation for it, no one was bugging him, no one was near him.

His teacher then said, "We figured between the patchy hair, and the black eye, you took him for an MRI."

I'm pretty sure these are normal conversations in everyone's household, right?

Daddy Firsts

Tonight, on the eve of Baduka's 4th birthday party, Daddy has succeeded in a first of his very own.

We had been in the kitchen for a little bit, preparing food for tomorrow, and the best boys were in the living room. Freshly bathed, comfywomfycozywozy, watching a movie, with bags of Froot Loops, and cups of milk.

They'd been quiet for a while, so I thought I'd check the damage they may have silently caused. The New Kid obviously poured an entire bag of cereal on the floor. As I was cleaning that up, I smelled poop. A lot of crappy crap, kinda poop.

Fearing the worst, I checked Baduka, nothing. Dizzy? Nope.

The New Kid. It didn't smell like his brand, so that's why he was last.

I went to take his pants off, and wondered why his pretty fresh onesie was soaked, and I could so easily, and clearly, make out the shape of his boy parts.

Daddy didn't diaper him after his tubby. Four years of tubby time, and Daddy forgot the most important part.

The Crap Catcher.

Autism Awareness

Today is Autism Awareness Day, at the beginning of Autism Awareness Month. Sometimes I don't totally understand the point of awareness anything months. I'm aware of autism everyday.

I'm aware of autism, when I have to unhook the hook and eye lock on the bedroom door, that I hook every night, so Baduka doesn't escape while we're sleeping.

I'm aware of autism every morning I need to sing All the Snowflakes Are Candy Bars and Milkshakes, just to get him to change his shirt.

I'm aware of autism, when I drop him off at his school, and hope he has a good day. And then when I pick him up, his teacher tells me he had a good day, because there wasn't as much flopping as usual. But there was a few full speed runs into the gym wall.

I'm aware of autism, when we drive home, and I can't take that way, because it causes him to instantly cry, and I don't know why. So I have to take the long way, because I don't like to make him cry for no reason.

I'm aware of autism, when we pull into the driveway, and he whimpers and smacks the New Kid in the face. I don't know why he hits him, it's not very hard, but it scares the New Kid every time.

I'm aware of autism, every time we walk into the house and Baduka, runs straight down the hallway crying, then throws himself to the ground. Then gets up and climbs something. Immediately.

I'm aware of autism, when I'm trying to find him something to do and just nothing seems to occupy him. He's already taught himself to read and write, so books are his only interest. Whether regular or electronic. So he spends a lot of time with the Nook.

I'm aware of autism, when I make him a peanut butter sandwich and he only eats the peanut butter, with his finger.

I'm aware of autism, when I leave the room for a few minutes and come back to him naked and poop everywhere.

I'm aware of autism, when without asking he hugs and kisses his brothers. Holds their hands, sits next to them on the couch. Those moments don't happen too often, so when they do you better believe there's tears.

I'm aware of autism every time I look at my sweet, smart, handsome, little boy and wonder with all this awareness, what's next for him?

Progress

We have been part of the Early Intervention world since Baduka was 18 months old. He received services from then until he aged out at 3. He had a speech therapist, and his case worker here, twice a week. We then received services for the New Kid, because of his crooked head, so a physical therapist came once a week to stretch him out. He's fine now, and that was when I thought we were done having people here. It's a lot of floor sweeping, and crazy taming, to have guests.

And then at Dizzy's 2 year appointment his doctor suggested getting a speech evaluation for him, because he wasn't talking yet. In his case, it was a "Baduka isn't talking, why should I?" We have never been concerned with him having autism too. But we started him anyway, just in case. He has a case worker, and a speech therapist, twice a week, and has had them for a while. It's a lot of floor sweeping, and crazy taming.

These two aren't like Baduka's two. I feel like there isn't much progress. Dizzy is very shy, and needs constant high-5's, and "YAY!! You did it!"s, and they haven't fully grasped that about him. But anyway, they've been sick for 2 weeks. And in this two weeks we have worked, and talked, and praised like we always have, but it's working more than ever. In just the past two weeks he's said many new things. Here's a few:

*After giant messy kisses he says, "HUG!" And throws his arms around our neck.

*At the park he asked for, "swin peeease, und-og (under dog)!!"

*In the kitchen yesterday he asked for, "FISH!" And when I said, "you want goldfish?" He answered with a cute smile, and a, "yesssss peeease!"

*Whenever I hand them cups of milk I usually give them the wrong ones, to then get them to tell me who it really belongs to. The other day he said who each of the cups were, after a smile, and a giggle, and a "Momma Nooooo!"

*He has been putting a toy behind his back, and then calling for it. Seeing him hide a toy, then call out, "Gaaaaggggonnn (dragon), wheahahyouuuu?" Then the cutest, most over the top cartoon, hand to his mouth laugh, as he pulls it out, with a "theahyouahhh!" makes me want to hide things til bedtime.

I'm so proud of how far all my boys have come. How hard they work is amazing. And sometimes it makes me think I should go back to school, and become a speech therapist or something. Because watching a kid learn to communicate might just be the best thing a lot of people take for granted.

what ARE they thinking??

My kids don't talk much, so I have to constantly guess what they're thinking. Here's what I figure these big heads are saying.

* She probably won't notice what I've dumped on the floor.

* Oh, she's changing a poopy diaper? Perfect time to hand her all my stuff, and sit on her lap.

* She's trying to put my shirt on while I'm holding a toy? She says switch hands, but I KNOW she will steal my best dinosaur for herself. She's selfish like that.

* Kisses? She definitely wants me to rub them in with a headbutt. I just know it.

* Oh, we're in the car? We are going to the store? I'll just take my shoes and socks off and make myself comfy-cozy for the 10 minute ride.

* She's driving, her eyes are on the road, she hasn't looked at me in a while. I better say her name. She still didn't look, I'll say it again... still nothing. Maybe she forgot we are here. I'll say it louder. Still nothing. Oh my goodness, she's forgotten we exist. I'll really high pitch it and repeat every 8-13 seconds til she looks. Oooh look a red light, phew! She turned around... but why doesn't she look happy to see we're still here?!

* Is that cat food? I'll just have a little, don't wanna spoil the dinner I'm dying to dump on the floor.

* I swear the dog likes this. Who else would chew his ears, if not me?

* As soon as she throws that away will be the EXACT moment I want it. Doesn't matter what it is.

* I wanna watch a movie. But once it starts I'm gonna turn the TV off, and run around screaming. Sounds like perfect.

* Ooh, tubby time? Better pee in there. Then clean up the pee with half a bottle of bath soap, and all her conditioner.

* Bedtime? That means Party Time. Excellent.

But I hope their number one thought is,

* Best. Mom. Ever.

Communication!

With the start of therapy a few weeks ago, we also started the PECS system with Baduka. PECS is short for Picture Exchange Communication System. It's a pretty awesome way to get to know what a kid who can't use language properly wants at all times, once they master the process. Baduka being pretty much a "silent" genius, means he caught on as soon as it was introduced.

What this process involves is a 3 ring binder full of hard plastic dividers, velcro, and little laminated pictures of every toy, food, and activity we own. He flips through the binder, finds what he wants and hands it to me. I'm supposed to say, "that's good asking!  You want to play puzzles!" And then get it for him to play with appropriately.

What this process really means is that he flips through a 3 ring binder, full of hard plastic dividers, velcro, and little laminated pictures of every toy, food, and activity we own, finds what he wants, hands it to me, yells, "thassss goooood assskinggg!" And gets it himself.

Clearly we still need to work on some things. Because now we still have the crazy, bouncing, jumping, climbing messiness, with little laminated, velcro backed pictures mixed in.

At least with the pictures I kind of know what direction he's about to run in?

My head.

I'm tired and have a headache.  I've yelled a lot today. I've hugged and kissed more, but it doesn't feel okay. I have reached my touch limit. I didn't drink enough coffee. I am sick of the toys no one plays with being everywhere. I've given up on potty training today. I want to have a family nap time. I want someone else to cook dinner. I need to wash the floors. I have too much laundry piled in baskets. I'm relying on Lightning McQueen to keep the maniacs quiet. I take the New Kid off the couch 49 times an hour and it's exhausting.

This is my life right now. It's not always hilarious. But it's okay.

because, I'm the mother, that's why.

At least once a day I can be heard saying, "why did I have kids?!" This is usually after I have to clean up something gross, or prevent a choking incident, or chase one of them down the hallway. If I didn't have kids, I'd be working everyday. Possibly drinking more, or less, depending on the day. And maybe I would have thought I was happy, but I wouldn't have been.

These kids are the true highlight of my every moment.

Without them I wouldn't laugh at ridiculous things, like last night when I went in to their room to do the final tuck in, and laughed the hardest I did all day when I got to the New Kid's bed. He fell asleep with a 2 foot, foam covered, Curious George baseball bat shoved down his feeties. Even in his sleep he looked relieved that I pulled it out.

Or the other night I had to run over to RiteAid to get toothbrushes. Dizzy saw me put my jacket on, so he put on his boots, the wrong feet-- but still, and grabbed his jacket. I had no choice, he was coming. He also grabbed a hat and a backpack. As we walked in to the store he waved and smiled at everyone. He gave the random security guard a thumbs up. It was like he'd never been out of the house before. He marched up and down every aisle with the most excitement you can possibly have. When I said, "people are gonna think you're crazy!" He looked at me, brought his finger to his lips, and said, "shhhh," then smiled and kept marching.

Last week I was in the kitchen with Dizzy and the New Kid, when Baduka came in crying. He climbed up on my lap, and I asked, "what's wrong, bud?" He held up his foot, looked at me, and said, "my foot! My foot is soooo sad!" In the most pathetic voice ever. He stepped on a toy.

They are so crazy and obnoxious, but when a movie is on Baduka and Dizzy sit as close to cuddling, as two maniacs can be. When the New Kid wakes up from a nap, Dizzy says hi with a kiss. Baduka made sure to hold Dizzy's hand the other day until his teacher came out, because Dizzy didn't want him to go to school. There was also kisses and hugs, and a few tears, from me.

These best boys of mine drive me crazy, make me laugh, make me cry, say "Momma!" 3 trillion times a day, throw their food on the floor, torture the dog, the cat, themselves, make messes, and love me almost as much as I love them. Because I will always love them more.

So, "why did I have kids?!", because without them, I'd miss all this.

is that the sun?

I'm sitting here with music on, a cup of coffee, waiting for the demons to wake up. It's sunny outside, and it is supposed to get up to 48 today. And my favorite sister and monsters are coming to visit. Since today is going to be great, here's a list of current things I love.

* Baduka reads and writes the alphabet. Seriously, he amazes me everyday.

* Dizzy has learned my name and Mom, so when he wants me to see something, I'm pretty much the happiest girl ever to hear, "Mom, look!, Jen, look!"

* The New Kid also knows me as Mommy, and he pokes me with just his pointer finger with all his chubby other fingers spread as far as chubby fingers allow, and says, "Mommeee, mommeee, mommeeeee!" When I say what? He smiles and kisses me.

* I'm making a fondant bacon covered cake today. I can retire my pans, I've reached my baking peak. It will also, quite possibly contain a layer of bacon in the buttercream.

* I went out for fried pickles and gossip last night. I highly recommend Raspberry Lime Rickeys made with vodka. And having a Brookie of your very own.

* Therapy is finally starting tomorrow, so I have an excuse to finally clean this toy pit we call Shoebox. Pretty excited to see how much Baduka learns at home.

The only thing putting a damper on this greatness is I still don't have my England yarn. Fingers crossed it comes today and I can stop stalking my front door.

still winter? great.

Observations, stories, and thoughts of a mom who has had enough snow for one winter.

* Last night after tubby time, after being the best brothers ever, after the posting of the cutest video ever, the best boys went to bed. They weren't ready apparently, so they dumped every toy on the floor, and then all three played with Baduka's poop. They earned an extra tubby for their efforts and Daddy stayed in their room til all three fell asleep, after cleaning the festively sprinkled, lovingly squished, balls of homemade playdoh all over the room. Yay.

* I like the smell of toes in feety pajamas, and baby bad breath.

* Companies shouldn't change things that kids eat or drink out of unless it's a life or death situation. This is for you Playtex, did you have to mess with the one cup Baduka drinks out of?! It has taken two days for him to drink a cup of milk.

* I decided to hate toys that require batteries. Because batteries die, and children don't handle it as well as they should.

* If there was not 26 feet of snow on the ground, we would be outside right now.

* February vacation is stupid.

* Digested crayons are not nearly as pretty as they are in the Crayola box.

* Why is my England yarn not here yet??

The maniacs are maniacking, I gotta stop observing, storytelling, and thinking now, or goodness only knows what mess Daddy will have to clean up next.

Footsteps

The boys have a lot of sames, but for the most part they are three very different forms of crazy. As they are growing though, they are taking from each other certain traits and habits.

The New Kid is watching every moment and doing it all a tiny bit crazier. And he's perfected the Smile Adorably In Key Moments face.

Baduka has always been the one that was climbing, jumping, reading, and naked. Dizzy was the one with the blankie. Lately Baduka has been dragging his blankie EVERYWHERE and Dizzy has been staring at books.

Then the other day I walked in to a completely naked Dizzy, standing in front of Toy Story. I'll admit I found it adorable. I took pictures. Made a status.

But then today happened. Today Dizzy was in his familiar poop stance, but he told me, "Nonono" when I asked if he was done. I gave him a few more minutes while I read a blog post.

I looked up to a fingertip full of poop.

I DRAW THE LINE!!

I cannot spend anymore of my days wiping poop off of bedframes, tv screens, and foreheads. I just can't.

Dizzy get your own thing. Be a leader not a follower. Because people frown upon day drinking.

Goodbye, my friend

Usually I change the names to protect the crazy, but I'm making an exception for this one. I want to talk about my friend, Colleen. We said goodbye to her this week and I can't stop thinking about her.

We met when we were 16, at the Boys and Girls Club, where we both worked for years. She started in the pool area being a lifeguard and teaching kids to swim. I was the slacker at the front desk who always managed to find a way to hang out where I wasn't supposed to. Which meant we talked all day long, either through notes, or quick runs back and forth.

She taught me to drive, because she couldn't believe that I didn't know how. So when she drove me home at night she would make me do circles in the cul-de-sac. They were extremely slow circles, because I was terrified of knocking over her Pound Puppies.

Sleepovers usually included being loud and a Hawaiian pizza, extra pineapple. Every year on St. Patrick's Day I texted her "Merry Colleen's Christmas." To remember her birthday she told me it was the same night as Paul Revere's ride, so that text was always "Happy Paul Revere Day!" She used my full name more than my mother, whenever I was being ridiculous, or stubborn, or crazy. Not surprisingly, I was more afraid of her than my mother.

When she was site coordinator at the after school program, she couldn't believe we thought it was weird that she was teaching the kids Beirut, or as she put it, hand eye coordination skills and wrist elbow alignment. To the kids they were throwing marshmallows in dixie cups. She always had a plan or a project for them, its funny the one fight I actually remember getting into with her was when she was the slacker. She was planning her wedding and the kids were watching another movie, and I yelled at her. She did make a beautiful bride complete with a crown, though.

We shared books, so much so that when I finally got a Nook I gave her the login info so she could still read the books I did from her iPad. We loved girly movies. We loved going to see the movies based off of books, so then we could drive ourselves crazy with all the things they left out. After seeing Confessions of a Shopaholic I got a facebook message, "Why would they change the color of the scarf?!" To this day it still makes me laugh, how upset she was over that. When we saw How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, she couldn't get over the fact that Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey weren't together in real life, so you better believe if they ever do end up together, she finally matched them up. The last movie we went to was Magic Mike, because obviously. I had forgotten til I saw the movie stub on Saturday after I got the call, that it was the most awkward movie experience, because about 10 minutes after it started, a random single guy, snuck in and sat in front of us. We couldn't stop giggling.

After that she usually wasn't up to nights out. You wouldn't know it though, when I showed up at her house with my Gilmore Girls dvds, in pajamas to her with a smile on her face and a "hi, Jen!" She was so much fun that even those nights were occasions. She would have an ice bucket for wine and a tray of at least 3 different cheeses and crackers. Depending on the night it was nonstop talking or just quiet tv watching. The night always ended when her amazing husband came home, not because she kicked me out, but because seeing them look at each other with so much love, I wanted to leave, so they could have more time with each other.

My favorite strawberry-blonde-because-holy-crap-don't-call-her-a-redhead, Irish loving friend, has been my friend for half my life and I don't know why it had to be for such a small half. She was fun, smart, brave, and so so strong, and I will miss her for all the rest of my days. I hope right now she's warm on a beach somewhere, fresh pedicure on her toes, fresh drink in her hand with an umbrella, thank you, reading a book and waiting for us all to get there.

dreams are funny things

Today has been the kind of day I always dreamed of having. I woke up, put my shoes on, went to the kitchen to make lunch and get Baduka's school stuff ready, before waking him up.

Got him out of bed, with the whispers of all the friends he was going to raise hel-- play with, today. Changed him, fought with him over what shirt he was going to wear. He won, pajama tiger is better than dinosaur eating fries. But he kept his shoes on, so I can't complain.

Then it was time to wake up Dizzy. Always a highlight of the morning, with the whining and the "NOnonoNono's". But today, today was different, special. Today he didn't want me to unzip his feeties. He didn't want me to unsnap his onesie. He didn't want me to touch him, but since me and Baduka fought over a shirt and there were so many no's, we were running late. So I did what I wanted, and didn't sense the warning.

Dizzy full on, like a newborn, peed over his shoulder. And cried. Then I sat him up and he peed on my freshly applied last night sweatpants I was wearing. And cried. Then stood up and peed, and peed, and peed. In full-force, stop start bursts. Everywhere. And cried.

So now I needed to be changed too. I could only find a pair of too tight, because I eat candy for breakfast, jeans.

I guess when I said today was the day of my dreams, I must have meant the dreams where nothing goes the way you thought, and you have to walk around the supermarket, adjusting your pants so no one will see your muffin top.

kids

Ahh, kids. The joy, the happiness, the repeated question of, "why did I have so many?!" Because according to Daddy, we have almost the perfect number for our Snow Removal Team. I say almost, because he wanted more. I hate pregnant and love wine. I won.

Anyway, watching these demons everyday cracks me up, usually after the crazy stops, because I can't lie, in some precious moments I want to scream.

Like the way they cry with the same intensity whether they get pushed over, drop a toy, don't get fruit snacks, need a nap, etc. I can't wait to see their reactions to truly sad things like the emotional roller-coaster known as Series Finales, and the all too short life cycle of a Seasonal Beverage. Think they'll take their blankie and go to their room, as Dizzy now does, when he's mad?

Or how changing a poopy diaper is the absolute last thing on their To-Do list and how dare we stop them from raising H-E-L-L, to clean their buttcheeks?! They'll sure show us how much they hate the process too, by making it wayyyy longer than it needs to be by making us chase them, tackle them to the floor, while they squirm, kick and twist, yelling "No!No!NO!!" Did that three times today. Baduka was on the verge of overflowing, but my goodness, could it have not waited til AFTER he climbed the bookcase?? Jeez.

But then there really are the moments that you realize this is why you had them. The goodnight kisses, the couch cuddles, the new things they do that make them look like miniature grown ups. The way the New Kid walks around with a hat on all day, because he likes it. The sense of pride Baduka has when he "reads" a new book. The way Dizzy will blow raspberries on the New Kid, because it makes them both laugh. Those are the times I thank goodness I got Daddy to move across the country for us.

Without him, my life might have been boring, quiet, and "clean". And you guys would have nothing to read about.

an hour in time

The alarm goes off at 6:00 and then 7:00, with snoozes in between for each alarm. I am lazy and always need just 9 more minutes.

7:27- Convince myself to leave the cozy, wozy blankies. The dog took a little longer and I had to untangle him from my legs.

7:28- Put my shoes on first, always first. You never know who is going to run and how far they will get. Always be ready.

7:30- Pee.

7:33- Attempt to let the dog out, because yesterday I didn't and I came home to pee and poop in the hallway. He runs back to the living room, because it's frigid outside. Seriously the dry ground crackled when I stepped on it. Second attempt meant I had to throw him out there.

7:34- Wash cups, make lunch, microwave French toast.

7:40- Start the car, worry someone may steal it.

7:42- Wake up Baduka, while getting his clothes, panic when I turn around and don't see him, be thankful I have my shoes on. Return to normal breathing when I see my blankets move.

7:43-7:54- Change and dress Baduka, while singing distracting songs to keep him from refusing to lift his arms up, and yelling for Dizzy in between lines, because he hates waking up.

7:55- Get the New Kid out of bed, change him while he's still in the middle of a sleep stretch, he really has no idea what just happened. Still yell for Dizzy.

7:58-8:03-  Drag Dizzy out of bed. He may hate me. Get him changed. He goes back to bed. Get the other two in jackets. Get the other two in the car that wasn't stolen. Get Dizzy out of bed again. He definitely hates me. I can tell by all the screaming. From both of us.

8:07-8:22- Leave the driveway, make it to school early enough to get the good spot, the one I was told not to park in anymore. I'm a rebel.

8:30- Bring Baduka to his teacher, run back to the warmth of the car. Go home.

8:45- Make coffee, pour milk, turn on Geeeeooooorrrrge. Dizzy loves me again and the coffee is finally waking me up enough to realize 7:30-8:30 is like 6 hours compressed into 1. No wonder I'm exhausted.