Simple Joys

It's amazing how things can change in the course of a single day.  We spent much of this weekend trying to get things done before K leaves for another detachment next Monday.  Kid 1 got a haircut, he looks much less scraggly, and did a great job to boot.  I put up our Christmas tree and the kids promptly removed and played with their favorite (i.e. my most prized) ornaments, so far the casualty count is only at 3, so that's pretty good, right?  The day seems to have blurred in my mind, because I have no idea what we did for the rest of the day, but I'm pretty sure it involved college football, and ended perfectly with a big ole L for Johnny Football (perpetrated by my LSU Tigers).  We won't talk about the Gators, but it was not a good day for K.

Sunday started with taking the kids out in the frozen tundra of Virginia Beach to take Christmas pictures.  It didn't go great, but I think I got two or three pictures out of the 500 I took.  A few of my faves:

 What most of our pictures from this day looked like

 We are pretty big fans of the awkward side hug in this house

You probably noticed the giant lollipops.  I'm big on bribery, otherwise known in autism land as positive reinforcement.  In my infinite wisdom, I thought that, for sure, these would entice my children to sit nicely together, say cheese into the camera, and take a decent picture.  It did not work in my favor, and here is why.  After pictures at the park, we decided to grub on some Mexican food.  In order to get kid 2 out of her car seat and into the restaurant, we had to take the giant lollipop away.  This was our first mistake.  She threw a fit.  Upon getting her in the high chair, we decided the path of least resistance would be to give her the lollipop back.  Mistake #2.  She threw it, hard, on the floor, which caused it to shatter into a ton of tiny beautiful peppermint shards that were damn near impossible to clean up.  Meltdown began again.  After about 15 minutes of this, I removed myself and her to the car where we waited for K and kid 1 to finish up their meal.  What is comes down to, is that poor planning on our part, does not necessitate cooperation and give a damn on a toddlers part.  Well played, kid 2, well played.  I might have been a little pissy on the drive home, but then this happened:

and our day changed completely.  To most people, these pictures might be exactly what you would expect from your two small beings.  For us, this is like spotting a unicorn.  We heard them in the play room and decided to take a peek.  They had created a crash pad and were cooperative partners in crime.  Now, they aren't technically supposed to be doing this, but sometimes, turning a blind eye is the right thing to do, especially when it comes to making connections and cooperative play.  K and I stood on opposite sides of the staircase, trying to be sly while filming and taking pictures of this, lest therapists and teachers not believe us when we tell them that this happened.

I am not one of those people to talk about what a gift autism is.  I don't think it is a gift, if I could change it to make my child's life easier, I would, but I can't.  What I will tell you about autism is that it has taught me to appreciate the things in which I otherwise might have been yelling at them about.  It has taught me to relinquish some control.  Autism is a teacher, it forces you to keep going when you want to stop.  It is about overcoming challenges one teeny, tiny step at a time.  It teaches you the depths to which you will go for someone you love and about celebrating big over something pretty little.

I still visualize those pictures of perfectly behaved smiling little children sitting cooperatively in the park, making adorable faces as they eat their lollipops, but, here's the thing....the pictures I took when they didn't even know we were watching mean so much more than the perfect Christmas cards. They are mischevious, authentic, overexposed, and imperfect, but they are happiness.  These pictures, they are what it's all about.

Hello Again!

I thought I would give blogging another try, so I know the four of you that followed the blog I was writing nearly two years ago will be super excited.  If I'm being honest, I will probably only last a few months; I tend to get bored and need a new project after awhile, but really, how hard can once a week blogging be?  Not only is it slightly therapeutic, but it also forces me to use my brain, since my adult interaction tends to be lacking these days.  The bonus is a chronicle of the lives of my kids and how far they have come...It will remind me to look at improvement, instead of focusing on perfection, and be grateful for all of the awesome little components that make up my life.  Because, in all honesty, my life is pretty damn good.

I think anyone who reads this will likely know me in real life, but if you don't, a brief introduction:  I'm a 30-something stay-at-home, looking forward to going back to work, mom of two kids.  My oldest is an awesome 4 year old little guy, and my youngest is the fiestiest 2 year old girl you'll ever meet.  My husband flies planes for Uncle Sam.  I spend lots of time driving in the car to therapies, school, playdates and have an addiction to riding boots, probably in a bid to not totally frump out.  I'm pretty sarcastic so you can probably expect that to influence the tone of the blog.  Some days my kids and I are well put together, and other days I wear workout clothes even though I have no plans to go to the gym, it's just easier, and people assume you look like crap because you just worked out.  I usually have makeup on and clean hair, so I consider that a win.  Sometimes the filter in my brain doesn't always prevent things from coming out of my mouth, but in general, I mean well.

My oldest is diagnosed with Autism, which seems to command a large part of our lives at this time, so I will probably be writing a great deal about what that entails.  If you have questions about autism or some of the behaviors associated with it, please feel free to ask.  I never pass up a chance to talk about my little dude and am more than happy to explain the things that I can.  My youngest is not diagnosed, but probably should be, with high-maintenance syndrome, otherwise known as: being a girl...I'm not quite sure which one is more difficult.  For brevity, and because a picture is worth a thousand words, here's a glimpse:

 Chillin with a graham cracker, a pug, and Bloomberg Businessweek

Feeding said pug your graham cracker apparently necessitates removing your shirt and screaming.  Not my hill to die on today.  She got another graham cracker and has been allowed to keep her shirt off.

***I will pay for their therapy when they blame me for ruining their lives as teenagers.  Happy Thursday!***