Lost In Holland

Weekend Wrap-Up, Etc

2013-06-17T16:41:00.000-04:00

The first official day of summer break has begun!

The girls finished their school year on Friday. The past 9 1/2 months have FLOWN by! How did this happen? I still don't think I've fully processed the fact that they are done another school year. I now officially have a Kindergartener, Second Grader and Fourth Grader. CB has only three academic years left until she is done with school and on to the next phase of life... whatever that may be. *insert anxiety here*

It's going so fast. When will I stop saying that?

Bus Stop ~ First Day of School, 2012

Bus Stop ~ Last Day of School, 2013

Pink ~ September 2012

Pink ~ June 2013

Tink ~ September 2012

Tink ~ June 2013

CB ~ September 2013

CB ~ June 2013

Rella ~ September 2012

Rella ~ June 2013

*******

Last week was Dr. Fabulous's birthday followed by Father's Day.

We celebrated his special day with cake and gifts from the girls which included a "sword" made out of tin foil from Tink, handprints (meant to be given on Father's Day) from Rella, and $1.71 wrapped in a napkin from Pink.

You gotta love the kid gifts.

Mine actually were not too much better.

We leave on vacation in 11 days, my in-laws are moving in with us (temporarily) tomorrow, our niece has been living with us for the past two weeks making five girls in the house, I've started working with an editor and I have zero free time to write, and there is a ton going on so I don't feel like summer has really started yet.

Hopefully we'll get ourselves to the pool and start 'chillaxing' a bit. As for now, I'm dying under an avalanche of laundry and under the gun on a writing deadline so I'm gonna wrap this up while the kids are playing outside (by threat of cleaning the basement if they come back in the house).

Later!

In The Field

2013-06-12T09:26:00.002-04:00

The end of the year means Track and Field days for all the girls.

Sack races, egg and spoon races, sprints, relays and bouncy houses. I remember doing these Field Days a kid. I remember how it was the best day of the entire school year!

Rella's day was hot, so there was a lot of water fun (and big water fight at the end with teachers and students!)

Tink had a scorcher of a day, humid and hot, but it didn't squelch the fun.

Red Baseball hat, third from the front - tuggin' her heart out with her tiny muscles!

Pink's weather was absolute perfection.

CB's school actually does a full week of school-wide activities called "Olympic Week" complete with team t-shirts, opening and closing ceremonies, swimming, bowling, and volleyball.

The bowling ramp definitely helps these kids out!

Volleyball used a balloon instead of a ball to make it easier to track.

The first time I've ever seen CB swim. She doggy paddled with this life vest thing on in water over her head (PS, no way would she ever be able to stay afloat without it!) It was so cute.

I love that despite their unique differences, I was able to watch all four of my girls participate in their Field Days. They had a ball, and I loved watching them.

My face actually hurt from smiling.

Weekend Wrap Up - When Two Worlds Collide

2013-06-10T16:21:00.000-04:00

Friday was a day where two worlds collided.

Ok, that is a rather dramatic description of what really occurred. Friday was the first day of a weekend-long writers conference in Philadelphia that I waited all year to attend. A conference I have been excited about for months. A conference ripe with writers, editors, agents, experts, beginners and all those passionate about the art and craft of writing.

Friday afternoon, right smack in the middle of the day, was also Rella's pre-school graduation.

Of all the days.

Mother and writer, writer and mother. The two have been at odds since the very beginning, warring within my heart and fighting over the tiny morsels of my time.

Guess which one won?

My husband and a few friends tried to talk me into forgoing the graduation and attending Friday's workshops instead, knowing how much the conference meant to me and what a difficult choice it created.

"It's only preschool," Dr Fabulous said. It wasn't lack of caring that made him encourage me to boycott the graduation but rather his version of letting me know it would be okay. I could miss it and she wouldn't be scarred - I wouldn't be a bad mom. He was giving me the permission I often can't grant myself - to indulge the other parts of me that take a back seat to my all-encompassing role as a stay-at-home mother.

I toyed with the idea of choosing the conference, really considered it. In the end I asked myself this - One year, five years... five minutes down the road..which was I going to regret not attending?

When the answer came to me in a nanosecond with indisputable clarity, I knew without question where I wanted to be - not NEEDED to be, WANTED to be.

No obligation, no guilt. No half-heartedness.

My whole heart.

I wanted to see Rella graduate. I would have regretted it and of course I knew this before I even consciously asked myself the question. A conference can wait, a conference can come again.

Not everything in life does.

I can't explain how much I love writing, how passionate I am about forging a writing career and my goals of publishing. Because of this obsession, I often feel frustrated with the little time I can devote to my craft, my projects, my dreams. I squeeze writing in between the cracks of my day and devalue it constantly. It comes after the laundry, the cooking, the baths and the bedtimes. It comes last, it comes when I can fit it in and there is never enough time for me to make much progress. In that respect, I have always seen writing and motherhood as mutually exclusive. The two cannot co-exist peacefully. The two cannot share the 24 hours in the day, the psychic energy in my mind, or the space in my heart. That philosophy has caused me much frustration and disappointment.

Yet, this weekend I not only shared my two worlds but I came to realize they don't need to fight within me so much. Being a Mom is not a thing I do, a series of actions and behaviors that ensued after children came forth from my body. Being a Mom is an inextricable part of who I am. All the pieces of who I am makes me a better writer and person. Without motherhood, I would not be able to tell the stories I tell, see the world the way I do, or work so hard on my dreams. I need motherhood to write and writing, ironically, makes me a better mother.

Despite my awesome Canon, I just couldn't get a good photo of her on stage from my seat.

Ugh, the blurry heads in my way!!

My family comes first, before everything. Before my own life, literally and figuratively. Yet, that doesn't mean that I cannot be other things and dream complimentary, not conflicting, dreams. Women have done it before, they are doing it now, they will always do it.

What makes me able to write what I write and how I write is a direct result of my experience as a mother - whether I'm writing about motherhood or not. My perspective, my stressors, my joys, my growth, my love helps fuel everything that comes from me. Take these guys out of the equation? There are no muses, no journeys, no mountains. Maybe I need them and the tug of war that they create. Without that struggle, more than just my writing would fall flat.

I can't be two places at once, but I can make room for two things on one day. Or at least, this time I could. I missed some of the conference, but I did get to do both. It is the art of juggling, choosing, yearning - that tug of war, that balance, that questioning, that striving... maybe that all makes the passion more passionate, the writing richer, the family happier, the soul more multi-faceted.

Motherhood means balancing lots of things, but that in and of itself means you have a rich life. I'd rather have too much to juggle than nothing at all, right? I can only do the best I can and recognize that everyone else is doing the same. As long as I'm never unclear about what is at the top of the totem pole, I am good.

And by the way, I had an amazing time, learned a great deal and met some incredible people.

I also learned my memoir sucks.

But I also learned how to fix it... hopefully.

If you are near Philadelphia, check out the Philadelphia Writer's Conference next June.

And, if you do - tell me and I will find you and buy you a drink!!

tHERsDay

2013-06-06T23:03:00.001-04:00

Scenes from a morning.

I know I haven't written since last week. Our family life has been dialed up a notch and I have very little free time of late - no time to write, blog, sleep, clean, or keep up with much of anything outside of the kids.

Right now, I'm banging away on the keyboard at almost 11:00 pm so I can write this quickie blog and get to bed. Tomorrow is Rella's Pre-K graduation then I scoot off to a weekend Writer's Conference in Philadelphia. I haven't even thought about what to wear and don't even remember where it is.

I hope I put gas in my car.

I thought I would take this conference way more seriously, but I don't even have business cards.

Or a pitch ready.

Or an outfit. Or my legs shaved.

Those last two probably aren't as important but, ya know...

There are 6 days left of school for the three little ones, 8 days left for CB.

I can't wait until things slow down a bit.

18

2013-06-01T11:03:00.002-04:00

Yesterday was CB's 18th birthday.

She slept in, still tired from the seizure that knocked her right out of bed the night before. I took her in to school late, instead of letting her play hooky. They were going to do cupcakes for her. It was the closest thing to celebrating with friends she would get, and I didn't want to take that away.

Seizures start...

Seizures going berserk. In a few months she'd be diagnosed with Autism & Cognitive Impairments.

Four years old and almost unreachable.

My favorite photo of her. I used to think to myself "This is the picture where I can see her without Autism. I can see her like she's just another 5 year old kid."

My favorite school photo, at age 8

I posted a "happy birthday picture" on facebook in the morning and was overwhelmed by the kind thoughts and birthday wishes she received. It really made me happy. Tearfully happy.

Eighteen is a big year. So big, I don't really know what to say.

This might have been a year of graduating high school and preparing for college.

This might have been a year of senior trips, a summer job, maybe her first used car.

But it's not. Instead it is what it is. It's lots of things - neither good nor bad, better nor worse. Just different.

Really, really different than what I thought and planned.

Her big gift is going to be the construction of a Sensory Room in our home. It will be a space just for her where she can be herself with textures on the walls, rubberized floors, big cushy mats, therapy swing, playhouse, and hopefully some of those cool fiber optic curtains and big bubble pillar. It's a massive project and it will take a few months to create the room and several years to get some of these big ticket items in there, but it will be so kick ass when it's done.

So in the meantime we celebrated at home with an ice cream cake, homemade cards from the girls and CB's favorite thing - the singing of the Happy Birthday song.

I had a video of it, but it won't let me upload into this post so the pictures will have to do. It was cute though.

So many things in life are unexpected, and the most unexpected thing of all is how much I've been blessed.

Happy Birthday CB.

We love you!

tHERsDay

2013-05-30T23:09:00.000-04:00

On the eve of CB's 18th Birthday there are a lot of things I could write. However, I'm feeling a bit non-poignant tonight. CB wasn't her best this evening. Certainly there have been worse days. She didn't break an expensive, flat screen TV or paint the entire house with the contents of her diaper. It was just her moodiness... her inability to let me know (or even know herself) what she wanted. That, coupled with the fact that Thursdays are a "shuttling back and forth night" with after-school activities, just made annoying things much more annoying.

I kept thinking "Man, I'm so glad today isn't her birthday," mainly because I was not having peaceful, awesome thoughts about Autism today.

*****

I wrote the above earlier tonight. I'm returning to the computer after rushing into CB's room following a big "Thud" where I found her on the floor in the throes of a grand mal seizure that had knocked her out of bed.

I thought about how much I hate seizures and then I thought again: "Man, I'm so glad today's not her birthday."

But it's the eve of her birthday and after 18 years so little has changed. I'm still watching seizures. I'm still sitting vigil. I still have yuck days in between the ones where I have everything all figured out. Yet, there are more days I have things figured out which has been the biggest change of all.

I had different plans for tonight's series of "The CB Diaries." A story about a gingerbread cake. I just don't have it in me right now, so I'll tell it another day. It's 11:00 and I'm going to go to bed to pretend that I'll actually fall asleep.

Since it's tHERsDay I will just randomly shove in some old photos I found of CB with baby Tink. This was June of 2006 and CB was a big sister for the second time.

These pictures have nothing to do with my post, but they make me happy.

The CB Diaries - Part II

2013-05-29T22:09:00.003-04:00

A few years ago I attended my niece's baptism. It was a double baptism, actually. My sister-in-law and her sister Amanda had their first babies within weeks of each other and decided to baptize them together.

After the ceremony we all congregated outside before heading to a large, joint celebration at a restaurant. Amanda looked over at me, coiffed and beautiful after posing for a milllion pictures in the church. She rolled her eyes and laughed while balancing her son over one shoulder and a diaper bag over the other and said with slight exhaustion "This is just like a wedding, except you're trying to do it all with a kid on your hip."

I blurted out a half-stiffled laugh. "Oh, you mean... people can DO that? That's a real thing that happens?" She furrowed her brows a bit at me. "I mean... sorry," I giggled, clearly the only one laughing at my private joke. "I never had the luxury of getting married without a kid... either time."

Awkward pause occurred right about here.

I was married twice - the first time with a three month old and the second with a significantly cognitively limited, 8 year old on the Autistic Spectrum. Well, technically the first time I was married it was in a court house seven months pregnant in a five minute ceremony conducted by a Justice of the Peace. So, I guess I was technically freed up for that one. The big ceremony with a wedding dress, proper vows, rings, first dance, cake and reception occurred three months after CB was born which is what I "count" as my wedding because the whole City Hall quickie wedding thing was sorta depressing for me.

Anyway, I've never planned, shopped, primped and preened for a wedding while not simultaneously being on mommy-duty. There was always the stress of taking care of a child on top of the stress of almost single-handledly planning a wedding (I have seen the latter alone render near nervous break-downs in some young women). At my first wedding, CB being so little so it was easy to find lots of people to hold her and help me. It was much more stressful at my second wedding. CB was older and more wild and unpredictable. There were medications to give, diapers to change, and a non-verbal, easily frustrated child with fluctuating moods with whom to contend. I actually considered not having CB attend and participate in my wedding at all. It would have been easy - VERY easy to let her go spend the weekend with her biological dad. Certainly everyone would understand. It was almost too much. I wasn't sure I could manage it all.

Yet, I just couldn't picture my happiest day without her by my side. We had been through so much together. We were becoming a new family. She needed to be there, so she was.

She was with me in the hotel room, along with my bridal party, as I readied myself in the hotel. Then she rode over in the car with me. I remember I was in the passanger seat, she in the back. I turned around as we sat out front waiting to exit the car and line up outside the church door right before I would go in and get married. I turned to her and pleaded "Please, just make it down the aisle. Just walk down the aisle. That's all I want you to do. That's all. Just please, please, please do that for Mommy." She hummed and stimmed and stared into a void.

I guess on some level she knew what I was begging for, and she gave me the only gift I asked of her that day. She walked down that aisle, escorted by my sister. That is about all CB was capable of that day and I know in my heart she did it for me.

Though I was still hiding outside and couldn't see this big moment, I heard there wasn't a dry eye in the house.

Sometimes I think that Baby Girl doesn't understand a word I say. But then, I remember our language goes beyond words. It always has, by necessity. It always will.

The CB Diaries - Part I

2013-05-28T19:33:00.001-04:00

One day CB disappeared. I mean vanished into thin air, without a trace.

When CB was about 6 years old her father and I separated. I voluntarily left our home once reconciliation was clearly no longer an option. I rented a two-bedroom apartment a few towns away. This was a garden apartment, not a high rise building, out in the suburbs of Towson, Maryland. Garden apartments are not tall, they are only about three stories, and what they lack in height they make up for in acreage. My complex sprawled for blocks and blocks and blocks to look like a red brick neighborhood. To conjure that "community feel" there were a few common lawn areas and a small playground which was located conveniently behind my building.

This playground was both my saving grace and the kiss of death. CB was obsessed with this playground, though I don't quite know why. She didn't do anything on it but sit at the top of the slide and spin her beads around and around for hours while I sat on the park bench. There were many "flip outs" by my front door morning, noon, and night because all she wanted to do was go out on that playground. She'd sit there screaming... SCREAMING her head off and in an apartment complex it is difficult to hide a child's tantrum so I'd end up caving in. We'd sit on that playground in the rain and cold, dusk and dawn.

One day after we sat out there for an hour, CB had her fill and we were ready to head around the building to the front door. I saw her walk off the playground apparatus, heading toward the front of the building in our same old routine. I turned my head to grab my purse off of the bench but it slid off and my phone fell to the ground so I picked it up. The whole diversion was about 20 seconds. When I reoriented myself I didn't see her so I figured she had just made it quickly to the front of the building. I jogged up there thinking I'd see her form standing by the big glass door. She wasn't there.

So I scoured the parking lot with my eyes, but saw no blond-headed little waif prancing through the cars. I opened the front door to the building - no one. So I turned around and ran back to the playground scanning the big lawn. No one.

Not a soul anywhere.

I started panicking while trying not to panic because who disappears into thin air like that? So I ran back and forth, from the parking lot to the playground area over and over calling her name, then screaming it, then I basically freaked out.

When a child goes lost, a second feels like an hour and five minutes like a day. Ironically I had looked at my watch RIGHT before I got off the bench to head back in and so I had an accurate perception of time. It was fifteen solid minutes of looking for her, calling her name, running in larger and larger circles. Fifteen minutes feels like an eternity. It feels like she's gone and you're in your worst nightmare.

Random people started helping me, people who trickled out of the parking lot who may or may not have been my neighbors. In the midst of an unamicable divorce and potential custody issues I was scared to call the police and report what could be construed as my lack of supervision, but I knew at this point it was time to panic. I dialed 9-1-1 and was preparing myself to tell them my child must have been abducted by aliens because that is how fast and nonsensical it all seemed. What could have happened in SECONDS?!?!

Then I saw a woman with white hair, maybe in her late seventies, bent over like a willow. She was walking toward me and next to her was CB, holding her hand, looking at the ground, flapping her free hand and humming.

After my tearful reunion I of course had a million 'thank yous' and asked a million questions. The long and short of it was this.

CB paid this woman a visit. The woman lived on the other side of the big central lawn and had been alone in her kitchen when she heard her sliding glass patio door being thumped. She looked outside and saw CB kicking it with her size 11 Keds.

"I knew when I opened the door that she had Autism," the woman said. "I had a son like her. I had a son like her who I was just thinking about when she knocked. I was just sitting at my kitchen table remembering him."

CB diverted her path, perhaps pulled by some force. She needed to give that woman a message. I don't know, maybe it was all a coincidence. Maybe not. All I know is that at the very moment an old mother was sitting at her kitchen table remembering a son just like my CB, my daughter uncharacteristically changed her direction and sprinted over to bang on her door. To show up unannounced. A wordless visit heavy with meaning.

CB has disappeared on us a few more times since then. It's scary - beyond scary. That day was the scariest but something good came of it, and I don't just mean finding my daughter to make the story a happy ending. Something good always comes from those who many believe have the least to offer. They are here to teach us many things, sometimes in the midst of stress and mayhem, grief and fear. They are here with a message.

Over the past 18 years I'm learning to listen for that message more.
It's difficult, but I'm learning.

Happy Memorial Day

2013-05-27T21:48:00.001-04:00

I cannot believe today was Memorial Day.

I cannot believe that in five days it will be June 1st... that in 2 weeks the kids are all out of school.

Pink will leave the elementary school for the fourth grade, Tink will go into second and Rella into Kindergarten.

I cannot believe that in four days CB will be 18.

CB's due date had been Memorial Day weekend, but she hung in there a few days more.

I plan to devote this week to CB and count down to her big, milestone birthday!

We have a very special gift planned for her - we are creating a sensory room in our lower level and while it certainly won't be done by her birthday per se, it will be done for this, her 18th year.

It's exciting.

I drive to Maryland to pick her up and take her home tomorrow morning. I'm looking forward to seeing her and sharing some of my most notable CB stories with you this week!

Happy Memorial Day! Thank all of you who served our country.

Hope you and your family enjoyed your time together where ever you were and whatever you did.

tHERsDay

2013-05-23T22:07:00.000-04:00

"No man is an island."

But this girl is.

It’s 1992 and I’m an eager college graduate with a bachelor’s degree in psychology out in the much anticipated real world. Tanned and rested and still smelling faintly of Old Bay seasoning from a summer waiting tables at a crab house in Ocean City Maryland, I have $86.00 in my bank account, a bike for transportation, and about 200 cassette tapes of which Pearl Jam, the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Nirvana are played most frequently on my canary yellow, waterproof walkman.

As a Clinical Assistant on the Neurobehavioral Unit at Kennedy Kreiger Institute, I work as direct care staff on an inpatient hospital unit for multiply disabled children and adolescents with very severe behavioral challenges to include self-injury, extreme aggression and severe property destruction. Few of these children are verbal or able to care for their basic needs.

I am proud of my first real, salaried “big girl job” that doesn’t involve waiting tables, serving alcohol or sliding donuts, coffee or frozen yogurt across a counter. Instead of sitting in a cubicle, typing, telemarketing, wearing control top pantyhose and sensible heels like the majority of my friends, I am changing diapers, bathing, dressing and feeding children and adolescents, getting peed on, thrown up on, bitten and beat up. The work is low paying and certainly no picnic, but while it is one of the most difficult jobs I ever had, it is also one of the most life-altering and rewarding. It is impossible to work with these amazing kids and not be transformed at your core. Furthermore, a practical byproduct of working on this unit is that it will fully prepare me for the grunt work of motherhood. At least at Kennedy Kreiger, I am getting paid to do it and only worked a 40 hour week.

I am standing at the back nurse’s station on the Neurobehavioral Unit, talking to a co-worker about whether we could handle a child with these types of extensive disabilities when we become parents ourselves one day.

“Oh, I can totally handle anything,” I say with complete confidence and an open heart. Of course, there is one small exception. I have singled out one diagnosis that just seems beyond my capacities. One I have had immense experience with while working at Kennedy Kreiger. One I know I don’t have the constitution for because you have to be a whole different breed of parent than I know myself capable of being.

“When I have kids, there’s nothing I couldn’t handle,” I say to my colleague. “Except Autism. Of all the things that could happen, Autism would be the one thing I just couldn’t manage.”

Holy Foreshadowing.

I’m not sure whether it was God having a sense of humor, the Universe being ironic, or just a weird, random coincidence. Perhaps I didn’t knock on wood. Perhaps, what you breathe into the world, you breathe into existence. Perhaps it was pre-destined. Perhaps it was a total and complete fluke.

It’s funny how when you get exactly what you never wished for, and your life resembles nothing of what you imagined, it somehow turns out to be exactly what you always wanted.

Even better.

Wouldn't Miss A Thing

2013-05-22T22:49:00.002-04:00

When I checked in on Facebook this morning I saw several posts about the great time had at a Comedy fundraiser last night. I missed it. Last night was the Girl Scout Bridging Ceremony and I'll tell you - as fun as last night sounded, there was no where else I'd rather be.

It's not that I'm so "in to" Girl Scouts, per se. I was one until maybe the fourth grade and then dropped out with many of my friends - too "cool" for it all anymore. The Bridging Ceremony just represents my girls growing up, achieving something special, feeling good about themselves. It's a small little event, but I love it. I love everything about all these celebrations, because I'm a sap.

Our lives will be full of ceremonies, and I don't plan on missing a single one - camera in hand, of course.

Tink's Daisy troop did not participate in this large Bridging Ceremony, so I told her we'd go rogue and let her cross the bridge anyway.

I was texting my husband today about our busy weekend. We thought that since soccer ended last week that we would not be going a hundred miles an hour every weekend but no such luck.

"Will it ever freaking end!" I texted him after listing everything on the agenda from Fri evening through Monday morning.

"One day we'll miss this," he responded.

Yup. As much as I didn't want to admit it, he's right. One day we'll miss all the chauffeuring and shuttling, parties and parades, sports and classes...

Track and Field day on a hot afternoon...

When they were babies I thought "Nothing is cuter (or harder) than this." Then when they were toddlers I thought "Nothing is cuter (or harder) than this." Now my baby is five eating a donut off a string without using her hands and I'm thinking "Nothing is cuter than this." But it's easier. It's easier but still as busy. Your life isn't your own. Was it ever? Maybe yes, before kids. Now, your ass is theirs.

I'm good with that.

God, it's crazy and God, I love it. Love it as it drains and fills me again and again. The good, the bad, the wacky - love it all. With all the heartbreak in the world, what is there to complain about really? That my kids whined too much today? That something didn't go right? Okay, that's good for a 60 second gripe session but turn on the news and there is always a reality pill set neatly on the back of your tongue.

There are so many things I can do with my evening, with my free afternoon, with my time and my energy. Fun things. Social things. "Me" things. When all is said and done, as much as I love me some rest or some fun, there is honestly nowhere else I'd rather be than with these munchkins - crazy as they make me sometimes.

Pink got to volunteer as a third grader with her sister's class. It was a nice surprise to see her there.

Dr Fabulous just got home. It's after 10 pm. He left the house at 6:30 am. That was his work day and it's not that atypical.

I'm gonna go touch base and tell him about our day before we both fall asleep and hit the ground running tomorrow.

O What A Night

2013-05-20T22:28:00.004-04:00

Another year, another Prom!

This was the fourth annual prom that CB's school has held and the amazing prom committee never fails to disappoint, nor does the community who helps support and sponsor this event.

Unlike past years, I have very few photos this time. She is always uncooperative with the camera but this year she seemed excessively so. Her disdain for the camera coupled with the fact that I was too rushed to get any photos at the house before we left, made the evening a bit less documented than usual.

I had a lot of photos of the top of CB's head. She just hates to look up.

She was not at all interested in being outside, just like last year, which was a shame because it was actually a gorgeous, warm evening with a picturesque backdrop. I remembered what my husband always says to the girls: "Im taking pictures with my heart." That's what I have... lots of heart pictures.

She was much happier sitting down at our table and ripping apart the center pieces and her corsage.

My ex-husband brought his girlfriend who has come before and she is just lovely and sweet. As she sat there with CB's father and I, we were mistaken for his girlfriend's parents. Yes, our table-mates assumed that he and I - obviously CB's parents- were also his younger girl friend's parents too! At first I was all like "Ha ha, my ex just got mistaken as his date's FATHER! Bwaaahaaahaaa"
But moments later I was all like,

Oh, snap - major buzz kill that I look old enough to be her mother!

As my seven year old daughter says "Awwww-kward!!"

But funny. Definitely funny, in an "I've lost all sense of pride anyway" sort of way.

It was a good laugh.
At my expense. So, whatever.

CB and her peeps

The best part of the night, for me, is when the DJ gets going and the dance floor fills up with kids, teachers and family - everyone boogying down. I wish I had a video of it. I'd play it every morning to make me smile right from the heart. It makes my year.

Even CB, a non-dancer, got out there once and jumped about.

I love this prom. The best night of the year for me and CB.

Read about our past prom nights HERE and HERE if you're new or just want to take a trip down memory lane!

tHERsDay

2013-05-16T19:43:00.004-04:00

Today I'll get up at 6 am. I'll get everyone a hot breakfast.
I'll bring the trash and recycles to the corner.
I'll bring Rella to the park with friends.
I'll dye my grays, I'll feel my age.
I'll clean the house after Rella boards the afternoon bus, really clean it not just pick it up.
I'll run out to the grocery store for the fourth time this week
then hit the drycleaner and return overdue library books.
After school and homework and snacks I'll bring the kids to art class, back and forth for multiple sessions between 5 and 7 pm.
I'll change some diapers, I'll make some dinner, I'll give some baths, I'll shave CB's legs.
I might go grab a drink tonight with friends if Dr. Fabulous makes it home before 9:00,
but I might not.
If not, I'll finish reading Gone, Girl with a glass of white wine.

I'll do all of these things today and
I'll go to bed excited because tomorrow will be much more of the same but will
end with something special.
Tomorrow is prom.
CB and I are going to Prom!
Maybe I should shave my legs too.

Weekend Wrap-Up: Mother's Day

2013-05-13T21:57:00.001-04:00

Hope all you Mommas out there had an awesome Mother's Day! Ours was pretty standard fare... it wasn't awesome, it wasn't a bust. It was fine. It was pretty much like most weekends 'round here except in the midst of soccer practices, double-date dinner plans, Dr Fabulous working almost all Saturday afternoon, family visits, and all the general what-not

I got a very cute slew of handmade gifts from the girls and a very appreciated gift card to a spa.

And I got my annual Mother's Day photo. After Pink was born I asked Dr Fabulous to take a picture of me and my girls on Mother's Day each year. They are never anything frame-able but they are my memories and documentation of how they grow.

The early ones are on my old computer that crashed years ago and so there goes my idea of a bloggy trip down memory lane.

Here's this year's photo. CB is pissed. That's a mid-yell "I'm pissed off" face that passes as maybe a happy laugh. It was better than some of the other faces she was making in the 27 other pictures. You can see her sisters are totally "done" with posing.

It's certainly better than this one

and definitely better than when she's not here at all.

The thing I've learned about Mother's Day AND photos is you can't expect too much from either. You just gotta roll with it and appreciate everything that isn't perfect because that is always what makes the heart smile and the memories unique.

Muver's Day Tea

2013-05-10T22:30:00.000-04:00

Rella's Preschool had a cute Mother's Day Tea

or how she referred to it: "Muver's Day Tea."

As they get older, there is less and less of these types of activities at the school. They work harder, have fewer class parties, and Moms come in less and less frequently. Pink is practically a full-fledged, independent adult in the third grade. I don't even think they HAVE parties anymore.

Tink, in first grade, is on borrowed time.

I'm gobbling it up with the Rella-Roo. This is it for me. For us. The time to savor is dwindling.

We'll move on the the next stages - sweet in their own way, but nothing can ever replace this.

Happy Mother's Day to all you 'Muvers.'

tHERsDay

2013-05-09T23:06:00.000-04:00

Thursday is the back and forth shuttling to and from art class.

CB gets dragged along, interrupting her afternoon nap. We drop off two girls at 5, go home, pick up at 6, and drop the third off, go home, then last pick up at 7.

Notice the phone book. It is highly important to drag around a big fat phone book at all times on these trips.

You never know when you might need to call someone.

Weekend Wrap Up

2013-05-07T09:47:00.004-04:00

This weekend the family got our FIRST PET. Their first, last, and only pet I might add. The girls won goldfish at our Township Day's festivities.

Every year our town has a big day starting with a 5K race (I passed on this one), a parade down Main Street, then an all day festival with crafters, vendors, food, games, some rides, laser tag, live music, lip synching contests, and ends with fireworks. It was probably the most beautiful weather you could conjure for a day like this.

We had to miss the parade, which devastated poor Pink because she had the opportunity to walk in it with her 'Girls on the Glow' group which is part of the Women's Tri Club. With Dr. Fabulous coaching Tink's soccer that morning at the exact same time, it was just too daunting a task to drag CB out, park, ride the shuttle to the staging area for the parade, then wait around for 30-45 minutes on the street BEFORE the parade even started, then watch the parade, and find Pink at the end in the crowds. Without the husband's extra hands, managing CB and Rella was proving to be a logistical puzzle with no good solution.

CB's special needs make our family stronger, happier, more loving but make no mistake - it sometimes keeps the other girls from doing many activities. But ask Pink if she'd trade it for the world? Nope - she wouldn't. She loves her big sis. She recovered.

I was feeling so guilty about the whole parade thing, like maybe I should have just braved it all and gone to that parade with CB in tow and probably it would have worked out fine. But then, after all 6 of us went to the township day? I realized I made a good choice staying home that morning without Dr. Fabulous there to help. CB went ballistic at the festival. It was that kind of crowd-taking-one-step-back-and-staring-at-you kind of ballistic. It was the worst behavior I've seen from her in a long while - screaming, flailing, throwing rocks, hitting... just lookin' all sorts of wild and half-crazed.

Dr. Fabulous took her home and I stayed with the three little girls. I hate it when we have to separate like that. It's the sucky side of being a non-typical family with a special child. It weighs heavy on our hearts, but I guess every family has to make sacrifices in some way - a crabby toddler who needs a nap, a surly teen giving you attitude, someone coming down with the stomach flu. This is just our situation, our sacrifice. You gotta roll with it.

So, I guess that's why I had a moment of weakness and allowed for these fish to be brought home.

Dr Fabulous was not present for the winning of the goldfish, so he was quite shocked when we brought them home. "We are a no-pet family" he said a bit shocked. This is true - I concur 100%. We have no pets, we want no pets, and the mere thought of bringing any creature into this house from a hermit crab to a dog is veto'ed without a nanosecond of consideration. Taking care of one more living creature is just not happening here. Some days I feel like I can barely keep the human creatures in my home alive! But, fish are fish. You don't walk them, they don't shed, they aren't expensive. Ya know, how hard can it be?

Well, obviously harder than I thought. The fish arrived home on Saturday and were named B.B., Candy, and Lia. They swam in three little make-shift goldfish bowls. We were careful not to over feed them, but I did not want to invest in an aquarium and all sorts of other stuff. I thought I remembered just having a goldfish in a bowl with unfiltered water when I was a preteen and that thing lived for months!

Well, by Monday afternoon, Candy was dead. By Tuesday morning, Lia joined her. Only Pink's goldfish is left and there is this somber air around here. We're all just waiting for her to croak. I'm actually kinda sad and stressed about it, not relieved. I feel like a horrible fish killer.

I don't know what we're doing wrong. Probably lots of things.

Obviously, don't ask us to pet sit.

Or plant sit. We kill those too.

Good luck B.B.

tHERsDay: These Things That Are True

2013-05-02T22:07:00.000-04:00

These things are true: The sky was cloudless and blue and the weather perfect. We spent the morning at a playgroup in the park. After an afternoon at the dermatologist, the girls all arrived home and we hung outside with my neighbor while the girls played.

These things are true: I took the girls to their art class, and back, to art class and back, to art class and back. Yes, it's that many times. My essay appeared in Something Special Magazine today, page 8 (yes there are two typos and yes, that sucks).

These things are true: I have a glass of wine next to me and Dr. Fabulous just returned home at almost 10:00 pm.

These things are also true: It was a difficult morning getting CB up and on the bus. She was uncooperative and I had to lug and lift 110 pounds of resistant teen, dodging spit balls. It was a crazy two hours surrounding that art class - After dropping two girls off for their art session, CB got into her poopy diaper while sitting for 5 seconds in the car while I talked to the art teacher at the doorway only inches away. Her face, hand and clothes were covered. We rushed home and I changed and cleaned her then rushed back out to pick up the two girls and drop off Pink for her art session. We went home, and there was diarrhea number two and a bloody nose on the rug ten minutes before we had to return to pick up Pink. Dinner was not eaten until almost 8:00 pm, bedtime was rushed, Tink had a tearful meltdown, the house was a wreck.

It was a beautiful day. I am blessed. I love my life. Yet, these things are also true: Life, as we know it under this roof, is not easy. Life long care of someone you love is never easy. Life long care. Unless one lives the true extent of these words everyday, it is difficult to understand the impact.

Yet somehow, the many things that are both true and also true live together in this weird sort of harmony; bizarrely making sense.

And I am happy. I choose happy, which will always be true and also true.

************

My essay is on page 8, in the 'Mom 2 Mom' section. Click below on the image to read:

How Glenn Close Might Be Reading My Article Right Now

2013-04-30T23:50:00.000-04:00

So one of the far too many things I volunteer to do is help out in this local Women's Triathlon Club. I don't actually DO triathlons, mind you. I just go to the drinking events and maybe throw in a few road races throughout the year. Maybe one day I'll train for a tri, but probably not.

Each year this club participates in campaigning for a cause and raising both awareness and money for a charity. This year, our "cause" is to reduce the stigma of mental illness by raising awareness through education. I assisted in organizing a really great event with a wonderful committee of passionate, incredible women. We are raising money for Bring Change 2 Mind, a non-profit started by Glenn Close (yes, the six time academy award nominee!) who has a sister living with Bipolar disorder.

Anyway, the event was a huge success - about 80 women in attendance, not a dry eye in the house as courageous club members shared amazingly powerful stories, and an awesome panel of experts answered questions. It was great. And, since we are raising awareness AND money for Bring Change 2 Mind, that organization was very interested in our event and have been very, very supportive of our endeavors.

So, my friend Lydia forwarded the nice woman over at the main headquarters my "article" summarizing the night. This woman wrote back a nice "thanks" and also said she would "pass this along to Glenn."

GLENN.

You know, that's THE Glenn Close of one of my favorite movies of all times "Dangerous Liaisons." Glenn Close of The Big Chill, The Jagged Edge, Fatal Attraction... omg.

OMG! [Insert sorority girl squeal HERE]

Glenn Close might actually lay eyes on something I wrote.
Possibly, maybe.
Probably not.

But, I can picture her now, coffee mug in hand, golden ringlets tucked behind one ear, scanning through my email attachment because she's in a rush, but lingering on a few lines that stood out to her. Maybe even smiling a bit to herself.

*Sigh*

One of the most courageous, remarkable young women I know (who is also the most adorable) shared her powerful story about her father's suicide and her "20 seconds of insane courage" that night which you can read on her inspiring blog. Please go visit Kate at Tri-ing to Be Happier Everyday. She is beautiful on the inside and the outside. She has great recipes for "clean eating" too.

I have a piece published over on Mamalode Magazine's blog today about CB speaking clear as day in the Crying Room of our church. I don't think Glenn is reading this one, so I would love it if you clicked over! It helps me, as the author, potentially get paid (as it's on a page view basis)...

...but more importantly this is a beautiful magazine written for women, by women. Lots of powerful, poignant, moving, and inspiring creative non-fiction and personal essay - so many things and experiences to which I can relate. If you are a writer, check out their submission guidelines for their print magazine or their blog and see how you too can contribute!

Weekend Wrap-Up: Spoiled Edition

2013-04-29T21:40:00.001-04:00

This was a crazy-fun-exhausting-memorable weekend.

After a late Friday night of soccer, we hit the ground running with a 7:00 am departure with the three little girls and three American Girl dolls to the Philly train station.

Our three "gently used" American Girl Dolls bought for them by my mom from a fabu consignment shop of discarded wealthy people's stuff on the Main Line. Each doll was $25/piece and scarcely played with. Each outfit was less than $5.00.

Yup, you mothers of young girls guessed it. We headed to NYC to the American Girl Doll Store!

The girls live in a bubble. They have travelled very little - Virginia, Maine and Boston by car (which they don't remember because they were too little), and since they have been older, Washington DC and PA. I guess the drive to Maryland every other weekend with CB counts, but they only get out of the car to use the bathroom at Dunkin Donuts.

They have never been on a train,subway, light rail, large boat or plane. Until today.

Their first train ride.

Their first time ever in New York City. Pink was a bit overwhelmed and hung nervously by my side, upset by the homeless people sleeping on the streets (as I knew she would be) but Tink and Rella took it all in stride.

The day trip and all the trimmings were courtesy of my father - his Christmas present to the girls. My 13 year old half-sister also came along to help with the girls, who adore her. We ate lunch at the American Girl restaurant which is so stinkin' cute in all its girly-ness.

My dad celebrating his 70th at American Girl.... with the oldest (me) and youngest of his five children and three of his 7 grandchildren. He hung in there all day, through the shopping and the squealing and the barrage of estrogen and pink. This man deserves an award!

After lunch, we headed off the the "Doll Spa" where the dolls sit in mini salon chairs and have any service done from hair styling to facials to manis/pedis and even ear piercing. My dad said they have swedish massages and liposuction in the back... I think he was kidding but I wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't.

They then went on a mini-shopping spree for books, clothes, pets... I mean, this place is three stories of everything but the kitchen sink for a myriad of dolls (well, I think there was a kitchen sink there somewhere, actually). It was crazy! It was deliciously cute. I don't know, maybe people do this all the time, but it was really a once-in-a-lifetime sort of day for us. I mean, not just dropping by the store but doing the whole sha-bang from the posh Amtrack ride to the whole AG experience with spa, lunch, shopping spree. A real special experience.

Stopping at Bryant Park on the way back to the train.

We left at 7:00 am and returned home close to 5:00 pm. It was a long, exciting day.

I was pretty exhausted myself. I have longer legs and stronger muscles but I also got a butt-load of years on these guys. But, no fear - I had a relaxing Sunday morning at a local winery hanging out with the hubs and some friends, but first we had to RUN the vineyard in the early morning hours - A 5 mile race (not 5K, 5 miles. Big 2 mile difference) which was mostly a trail run winding through the vineyards. The things I'll do for wine. And, my husband's company. Bless his heart, he ran with me the whole time even though he could have gone much faster. It definitely makes the race more fun having someone to chat and laugh with while you're quasi-dying.

It was fun - gorgeous day, perfect running weather. Music and wine afterward. Our friend Brian won third overall out of 404 finishers. We felt all famous just knowing him. It was like, we were vicariously fast because we were hanging out with him.

That evening, I drove to Maryland to pick up CB...

It was a full, full, full weekend after a full week leading into another full week.

I'm so sleepy right now. Like, bone-tired.

But hey, it was all good stuff. Can't complain!

But I can go to bed. Good night!!

Happy Friday

2013-04-26T20:02:00.001-04:00

still lifes on the home front

tHERsDay

2013-04-25T19:59:00.001-04:00

"Great opportunities to help others seldom come,

but small ones surround us every day."

~Sally Koch

A Long Day

2013-04-24T22:56:00.002-04:00

What a day!

First, Happy 70th Birthday to my Dad

and my friend Janeen!

She is not 70, by the way.

I took the four girls to my Dad's house in Pennsylvania to celebrate with a small family dinner, which rounded out an interesting day.

CB only broke two things and tried to open the car door driving across the Walt Whitman bridge so overall I'd give that visit a grade of 'B -'.

Pink and Tink had their dentist appointments today, and while Pink had a clean bill of health Tink had FOUR cavities.

Seriously?

If you read yesterday's post, I'm still not over Rella's cavity.

I'm just...

at a loss.

So, that's that.

I raced them back to school, dropped Rella off late to pre-school then dashed into her IEP meeting where her "Turning Five Re-Evaluation" was discussed and

Yay - she was de-classified!

She will enter Kindergarten in the fall as a Regular Ed student in a Regular Ed classroom and continue to be followed for speech, with great improvements from her year-long program and therapy.

We ended up not getting home from PA until 10:00 pm.

I raced the other girls to bed (not sacrificing good tooth brushing and our ACT fluoride rinse!) and found CB in the kitchen with a half-dozen broken organic, brown eggs all over the floor and a diaper filled with poop.

Now that everyone is asleep, I am blogging like a lunatic, instead of sitting in front of mindless T.V. with a glass of wine or sleeping.

Call me crazy.

But, I am going to bed now. Suddenly I feel like this has been a very long day.

Mother Of The Year, Part 3,732

2013-04-23T22:17:00.003-04:00

I remember the days when I was this awesome, know-it-all, perfect mother.

Of course, it was before I had kids.

When I had it all figured out - parents whose kids tantrumed, screamed, ran around like lunatics, interrupted grown-ups talking were just plain doing something wrong.

That would never be MY kids.

And when I'd hear that some poor child got a cavity? Well, me and my judgey little britches just knew those slacker Moms must not have been brushing those tiny little teeth for heavens sake!

Of course, life after kids has humbled me and I can honestly say

I've long abandoned those judgements.

Kids scream, they tantrum, they interrupt and they run around like lunatics.

But get cavities?

Nope. Not on MY watch.

Yeah, so um... *cough cough*

Rella has a cavity.

Plus another one is starting in a second tooth, but they will leave that one be for now.

I'm so freakin' upset about this I can't even explain.

SO UPSET!

In preparation for Monday's drilling and filling the dental hygienist sent us home with some dental paraphernalia and all afternoon we gave Rella's "Bubby" a check up.

I didn't get my first cavity until I was 23.

I guess she didn't inherit my teeth.

Ugh.

I'm sorry baby girl.

Weekend Wrap Up

2013-04-22T18:39:00.003-04:00

I'm not going to lie. The tragedy at Boston in a crowd of people celebrating on a regular, ordinary day has freaked me out. We are supposed to go into New York City next Saturday and I'm all skittish.

But in the midst of loss and horror at the Boston Marathon, I try to remember that there was also good. The human spirit at its finest. People at their best. Heros in the calamity.

It makes me want to venture out into the world... cautiously, sure.

You gotta bet on the good guys.

My babies are growing up in a world I sometimes don't understand with human beings I understand even less.

But they are also growing up in a world full of good. I pray that they not just reap the benefits of that good, but contribute to it for a long, long time.

"The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform,

to love and to be greater than our suffering."

~ Ben Okri