Dear Daddy- We're Out!

Well, just when I thought we were snowed in for good and the most exciting thing I would have to tell you was what a blast it was watching Parker plug the bathtub faucet with a shampoo cap making baths a no-go until Mommy finds the pliers, the snow stopped, Mommy took us to the grocery store and the Crazies did not disappoint.

The fireworks started when there was not a semi-truck sized cart to be found in the parking lot.  The Crazies had to walk inside while Mommy looked for one of those bohemoths that might as well have a sign on them saying "No one should be shopping with this many kids that need to be strapped down."

Guess where our ride was Daddy?  Right next to those dreamy toys that move and make noise.  If that does not spell DISASTER I don't know what does.

The Crazies went, well, crazy, and made themselves comfy in those hooped-up toys one can only hope to ride and Mommy strapped me into the cart (had no choice, I'm the only one she was carrying and she's no dummy).  Mommy climbed in a flashy car to squeeze out Parker and I'm sure you could hear him all the way in Dairy.  A poor store worker lady came by to say she was glad Mommy found the carts because she had just moved them to that very spot and Mommy thanked her with a look that almost melted my diapey.

Mommy strapped Parker in his seat and went for Kenna and then we were all screaming because I'm no fool, I missed my two seconds of glory too.  She almost took us to the car but we acted all nicey and she fell for it hook, line and sinker.

First stop, cheap toys for keeping our hands out of trouble.  Mom found neat stuff Dad, squishy froggies with balls inside you squeeze to light up so all the time while we were shopping we could say "more lights, more lights, MORE LIGHTS" and Mommy would stop and squish them again.  Next came the Mommy moment that made my pacifier hit the ground rolling...

Mommy was stopped in the aisle making Parker's toy light up for the bazillionth time and a worker man asked if she needed anything and Mommy said, "oh, no, sorry, I was just squeezing his balls." Can you believe that???!!!!  Priceless.  Lucky I'm still in a diaper.

Mommy's face got as pink as the boots Kenna cried for in the next aisle and nothing says send-her-to-the-looney-bin better than a Mommy laughing all by herself while pushing a cart of whining, crying kids.

We made it to the check out (thank goodness, right?) and it turns out Kenna liked her boots so much that she chucked the shoes she was wearing somewhere in that big store and put those shiny pink things on.  She would NOT take them off and the lady tried to scan them on her feet but turns out that scanner's not fast enough to pick up boots on kicking screaming girls.  Someone was watching and feeling bad for Mommy (or maybe their ears were bleeding from the sound) and grabbed extra boots for that lady to scan so we could put everyone out of their misery and exit stage left. 

And so we went, one pair of shoes short and another trip-turned-disaster under our belt, with Parker, that dedicated guy, still screaming "I WANT A TREAT" and Kenna still reeling (loudly) over the boot-scanning trauma and me, just sitting back watching the whole scene as mellow little me does.

The funny thing was, seemed like we were in that store for days but we only got a couple things (can't count or I'd give you an exact number).  That scanner lady didn't even do a silly look that one of them was a big bottle of Mommy wine.

Love you Daddy,

The Man Behind the Yogurt

My Grand Plan

I have been tossing around random thoughts lately that have ultimately formed into my Grand Plan.

After we lost Hadley I felt like I was the only mom on the planet to lose a baby, let alone a 2 day-old preemie who was one of triplets.  Never in a million years did I think I would connect with other moms and bloggers in the same position who would inspire me to put one foot in front of the other each day and give me a shred of hope that I could get through this.

Over the past few months I have connected with lots of autism moms.  Never have I connected with so many people who get it.  Who knew there was a whole world of autism bloggers I had yet to discover?  Apparently, a lot of people did and I have been living under a rock.

So on to my idea...

Every Friday I am going to feature a blogger who may have struggled a little, or a lot, but keeps on trucking.  If you have experienced any type of trial whether it be loss or infertility or illness or have made it through divorce or a high risk pregnancy or are raising a special needs child or if you have done something crazy like trained for a marathon while taking care of 10 kids or had a baby when everyone said you were too young or too old I want to hear about it.  I have no formal list of what qualifies so if you feel like you made it or you are still making it let me know.  

My goal is to connect bloggers to other bloggers who might see a glimpse of themselves and know that they will be all right.  Plus there is nothing like new followers who walk the same walk and a new button too.

Here's the rules:

-Send me a blog post that screams YOU.  The post does not have to tell the story of your struggles, in fact, I would rather it not.  Just share something that you are proud of or that gives readers a feel for your blog.

-Email a direct link to the post you would like featured and include a description of your struggle/feat,/obstacle/magical powers in the body of the email.  Send it to fourplusanangel@gmail.com and I will feature someone new each Friday.

Oh and I know what you are thinking, if you are wrestling with that uncomfortable feeling of patting yourself on the back, look at it like you are sharing your I-made-it-through-so-you-can-too story with someone who just might need to hear it or if you feel like you are not quite comfortable calling yourself an expert yet, that is okay too.  I guarantee there is someone out there feeling like they are ten steps behind where you are right now.

Hope to hear from you!

The One with the Hole

Tonight was our annual candy making with the girls (and the boy who could not be left out of a sugar-filled event).

We all made our way out in the first of this year's winter storms to spend hours using up the mountains of baking supplies overflowing the kitchen.

My little ones in attendance were strategically placed in the cookie decorating section which was secured with a washable surface, easy to clean chairs and a large tarp over the floor.

My aunts have all done this whole toddler thing before.

The afternoon was warm with tradition and laughter and it was not lost on me that I am lucky to be surrounded by so many amazing women.

(the two down front with no self control in front of sugar belong to me)

Unfortunately, the sameness of tradition seems to be dragging me down this year.  I am fighting off the nagging heartache of one child missing and the reality that life will continue on this way, one tradition after another, rich in bittersweet moments.

Santa sitting on their lap as they try to get on his good side one more time.

At one point in the afternoon the kids were arranging candy dishes their own fancy three year-old way and my eyes found the spot where their sister would have sat, as they always do.  

Parker turned to me, beaming over their creation,

     Look Mommy, there is a heart with a big hole in the middle.

I kissed him on his blonde little head and replied, 

     Yep Parker, there is.

Small Things Saturday

</span></span></font></div><div><font class="Apple-style-span" face="'Lucida Grande'" size="3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 24px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; line-height: normal; font-size: 11px; "><a border="0" href="http://www.thewatson6.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i364.photobucket.com/albums/oo84/mcpahash/leaf-1.jpg"/></a></span></span></span></font></div><div><font class="Apple-style-span" face="'Lucida Grande'" size="3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 24px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; line-height: normal; font-size: 11px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 24px; ">

Today my Small Thing to appreciate is the fact that it is the weekend... not super creative but, as the holiday approaches and our "to do" list gets longer, I am looking forward to a weekend of a few plans here and there but with an added minute or two of sleep and plenty of time with these Crazies and their sister 

with the much needed bonus of an extra set of hands from Daddy.  

One week and counting until Christmas break.

What Small Thing do you appreciate today?  Grab the button and join the blog hop.

Happy Saturday,

Bruce

There is a homeless man in our city that is always perched on his bike somewhere on the main road running through our town.  (Yes one, we are in the burbs and he is the only one I have seen.)

We see him every time we leave the house, he is either bundled up, hunched over his bags and blankets in the winter, or riding up and down the street in the summer.  I suspect trying to catch a little breeze in the heat.

Whenever I see him I feel bad.
I want to bring him a coffee or a water or a blanket or a fan, but I never do.

His name is Bruce.

I only know this because my brother-in-law, being the six and half foot teddy bear that he is, saw him one day on his way to our house, asked his name and why he was sleeping in the field and then gave Bruce the coat off his back and the hat on his head, when he was on his way to help us move... in the freezing cold.

Today, I had a moment of crazy and decided to venture to the mall with the little ones.  As we headed inside we saw the ever-present bell ringers of the holiday season, collecting money for the Salvation Army.

I echoed Merry Christmas to the freezing volunteer but, with full hands, did not put a dime in his bucket.
I told myself I would catch him on the way out but never did.

So this afternoon, while driving home from the mall, frazzled from all the get-back-here's, don't-touch-that's and we-are-leaving-NOW's of our trip, I find myself stuck in the slowing traffic of our two lane road to home, getting aggravated because it is nap time and they need it and I need it.

Sure enough someone decides he MUST cut in front of me and, as I am muttering under my breath about the fact that cutting me off isn't going to get him anywhere, and where exactly does he think he is going, I see that he is pulling his car off the road.

The man, that I am cursing under my breath for disrupting my five minute drive that is taking too long for my worn patience, gets out and walks up to Bruce, who I had not even seen in my world of crabbiness, and hands him the money in his wallet.

I looked back at my windshield through blurry eyes and was ticked.  At myself.

Sometimes I think the bitterness I feel for the hand I have been dealt clouds my view of the fact that there are others who have been dealt a hand a card or two less.

I was reminded today that I need to slow down the carousel, help when I know I should and give when I know I can.

If you need me I will be rehearsing the art of removing money from my purse with my foot, so I can drop some in that little red bucket next time I pass a bell-ringer and my hands are full

 ... after I find Bruce and invite him over for Christmas dinner.

Nothing

When your kids are being quiet and you are thinking to yourself...

Oh they are so good, it is so nice they are finally old enough to entertain themselves 

and then you ask,

"What are you guys doing up there??"

and they sweetly reply

"Nothing Mommy"

THIS is NOTHING...

 Yes I drew on the clothes, pretty fancy huh?  Not big on naked pics of my kids online these days but they can't keep their clothes on for five minutes and this picture HAD to be shared.

 Another view of the thoroughness of his work

and one last view from the front, notice the attempted facial and chest hair, poor boy already knows what he is missing.

Of course I am reinforcing this behavior because, as any good blogging mommy would do, right after I asked what in the world they were doing I told them not to move and ran for the camera.  Their fear of my presence is illustrated in picture #1, McKenna continues to direct Parker in what body part to decorate as I am snap away.

Gone But Never Forgotten

Well a few days of happy posts calls for a sappy one I think.

(Follow the bouncing ball, it's the holidays and I'm all over the place.)

When we lost Hadley my biggest fear was that people would forget,

    that her short life was not long enough to hold the importance in others' minds that it did in mine.

Hearing the kids called "twins" made me cringe (still does) and I would choke on my words trying to explain to anyone who would listen that they were born as triplets, feeling like some sort of fraud if I let the mistake go unaddressed.

But it has been three years and, to my heart's relief, her memory continues to live on.  I still correct people but don't have a heart attack when they don't stand still long enough to get the whole story and hate when she is omitted in conversation but I think I may have just brought her life and death up enough to make people understand that living or not, she was once here and I will continue to talk about her just as I would if she were playing dolls at my feet.

There are still those days, when I feel like the only grieving mom on the planet and I find myself alone with the impossible-to-wrap-your-brain-around fact that my daughter is gone and it never fails...  I am always tapped on the shoulder by someone who cares or someone walking the same path.

Not too long ago I came across a beautiful new website devoted to honoring the lives of babies gone too soon and spreading the word about the many resources available to the loss community.  It was created by Monica, mother to 5 children, one of whom was stillborn.  She created Honoring Our Angels in memory of her daughter Devon.  I visited once, amazed at all the resources she had compiled, and left a message of condolence for her.

I had forgotten about it until one evening, feeling alone in my grief, I was blogging my sorrows out and received an email from Monica.  She wanted to tell Hadley's story and give me the opportunity to share her short life with her readers.  I was honored by her offer and, as I type this, am comforted to know that Monica is probably typing away right now too, typing the story of my baby, from one loss mom to another, to remind me one more time that Hadley is never forgotten.

Please visit Monica today, read the beautiful post she has crafted for Hadley and view all that she has been working so hard on.

If you are a loss mom visiting here for the first time please know that living children are mentioned often in posts below this one.  Here are a few posts pertaining to loss only:

The Next 25
No one told me this either
Send Me a Rainbow
  and the very eloquent This Sucks

"If you know someone who has lost a child, and you're afraid to mention them because you think you might make them sad by reminding them that they died--you're not reminding them. They didn't forget they died. What you're reminding them of is that you remembered that they lived, and that is a great gift." --Elizabeth Edwards

Thanks for visiting,

Dear Daddy- A Public Restroom Tale

Well another day, another drama.

Today we ended up in the one place that mom has been dreading since... well.... I don't know since when, but this is the one place she had nightmares about.

The potty room.  
The big kind, with the walls and the doors, and lots of potties in a place that is not our house.

She thinks they are germy and can handle one with a kid or two, but has been shaking in her boots for the day that she had to cram us all in there and today was it.

We were out and about and everybody had to go and you know those Crazies, they could not WAIT to try a new potty.  (Not me Dad, you know me... just go when I need to and sit in it til someone's downwind.  I'm low maintenance that way.)

So Mommy took all of us and the diaper bag and our coats and hats and gloves (boy, does she love winter) to the potty.  As soon as we got in we all went running for those swinging doors.  The ladies on the other side kept saying "I'm in here!" but that was okay, we just rattled away at those doors anyway.

Mommy waited for the big room and squished us all in.  While Mommy got Parker all set, I layed on that cold floor and Daddy, I could see shoes for miles.  Mommy made me get up and scrubbed my cheek with a wipe while she held Parker on the potty and, since Mommy was busy and Kenna is no dummy, she took the opportunity to squeeze that paper roll right down the potty behind Parker's butt.  I pushed the flusher for her and we laughed and laughed.  Parker didn't laugh (his butt got extra wet) and neither did Mommy (not her kind of fun I guess).

Anyway, then Kenna went potty and Mommy dragged us out of that little room and tried to wash our hands but I loved this place so much I started unloading the diaper bag so we could stay a while.  Mommy said "no, no, no!" but I just smiled and chucked it all.  She started packing my unpacking job and while she was down, we all headed for the hills.  Mommy chased us with all kinds of our stuff falling off her arms and she thought the party was over but we weren't done yet.  Well we were but Parker wasn't.

He poked his arm back in there real quick and turned off the lights on all those shoes under the doors just waiting for us to get out.  The boy is genius.  Can you imagine being in there when the lights went out??  I bet no one could see a thing.  I'm glad my diaper-butt was already on the other side!

So anyway, just wanted you to know we are all safe and sound now.  I'm blogging, Mommy's sanitizing the bazillion things that hit the potty room floor (she said alcohol works, I think she is taking a swig or two).

Oh and when you have your Christmas time at home Daddy, I think you might need to give Mommy a day (or ten) off.  Because seriously....

now is not the time to break it to her, but this is probably not her last trip to a potty room with these hooligans...

Love Mommy's favorite child because I'm still in a diaper,

Sawyer

Holiday Memory Making

We had a completely stereotypical weekend-in-December-with-little-ones and I loved every minute.

Since the kids were micro-preemies, this is the first year we are able to break out of the house and enjoy all of those germ infested activities we have avoided like the plague for the last three years.  Now we are free to explore all the holiday hotspots and catch every bug that the kids come within 20 feet of just like the rest of the mommies-with-kids-who-touch-everything world.

Speaking of kids who touch everything, we headed out for our first visit with Santa and, much to the misfortune of every Christmas display in the place, Santa was out feeding his reindeer when we arrived.  We had a twenty minute wait filled with holiday cheer, two 3 year olds, one 18 month old, no stroller and 80 million things they just could not manage to keep their hands off of.

"I'll keep him steady, you remove the horn"

"Let me just see if I can push that nose of yours right into your face.  Don't worry Parker is holding your hand"

That squeeze that they do to their brother, a little bit nice, a little bit not so nice.

For some crazy reason, the on lookers decided to just let us skip right to the front of the line.  We headed to our doom visit with the big red guy, who was surprisingly dad-dressed-up-as-Santa looking for the venue we took them too.  You would think an all Christmas all the time shop could manage an authentic looking Santa.  The moment I saw him coming I knew he would tacky up our pictures.

Parker loving up Santa, Sawyer hanging onto me for dear life to make sure there was no chance I was going to put him on the big guy and McKenna pre-breakdown that left all of the other children after us wondering what exactly was going to happen to them once they got to the front of that line.
Oh and a guy sitting in a big chair not doing a darn Santa-ish thing.

We took the kids and fled, not missing the irony that I could faintly hear Silent Night overhead during the lulls in McKenna's incessant crying.  

Thank God some elf handed us candy canes.  

We may not want to touch Santa with a ten foot pole but you can bribe us with candy any day.

"Can you believe they gave us this after that crazy display?"  

"It was just to shut us up McKenna, just to shut you us up."

So we headed out, one Christmas tradition down, and tried to wrestle everyone into the car to the tunes of a you-let-us-skip-nap-to-see-Santa-so-now-you're-going-to-pay meltdown times two (Sawyer never cries, just relishes in his perfect toddler title).

"Look Mom, almost as tacky as the one inside."

Before we told them it was time to leave, happily strutting their stuff.

McKenna had already figured out it was time to go and therefore could not be picture.

We wrapped up the weekend by decorating the tree and in the crazy, bulbs breaking every second, teenager complaining that no one was hanging anything high, ten ornaments on one branch, take the Christmas stocking off your foot, DO NOT put that in your mouth flurry of activity, it was as clear as my post bedtime wine glass waiting to be filled, that these are the moments, when Mark and I are sitting in front of a perfectly decorated tree in a silent house, many years from now, I would give anything to do all over again.

Notice the triple decker hanging of ornaments, impressive, huh?

Oh and I saved my favorite shot of the holiday frenzied weekend for last...

Black and white seemed to decrease the tacky Santa tone.  Parker has the perfect sitting on Santa's lap look doesn't he?

Merry month of December,

Small Things Saturday

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This weekend my Small Thing to appreciate is our Saturday plans.

Tonight Ashlyn is heading to a holiday party for teens on the autism spectrum.

We are both looking forward to an evening of blending in.

An old picture but one I love... I'm running out of Ashlyn pics.  She HATES getting her picture taken and sitting on her to take a pic does not usually make for a good shot.

Happy Saturday,

Limit Pushers

The bill to mandate insurance coverage for people with autism in Michigan did not make it.

After a long tireless fight, it did not pass the Senate last night, or this morning.

I'm disappointed and feel like we just took two steps back AGAIN but I am also I'm grateful.

I spent last evening, along with most of the autism parents in Michigan, checking face.book, twitt.er, the Michigan government sites and text messages waiting for news from the parents who have given up days and months and years of their time to get this bill passed.  I have to say I have been humble by their efforts.  The amount of time they have spent on this cause not just for their children but because they saw the bigger picture and knew this was needed for the many children of Michigan.

I'm not sure why it has taken me this long to fully grasp this but over the last year or so I have finally understood just how much work has been done by other parents of special needs kids before me to make my life easier.

There is no doubt in my mind that the fact that Ashlyn has the opportunities she does is because of outspoken parents who pushed the limits of the past and the reason my preemies benefitted from so many advances in neonatal care is because of the many preemie parents before us.

Many years of limit-pushing ago

I made my phone calls and sent my emails for this insurance bill but I did not make a trip to Lansing or spend my days with lobbyists and without the many parents who did, this bill would never have seen the light of day.

In general, this is a crappy day for parents of children with autism in our state.  Autism is not the easiest diagnosis in the world to swallow and then to find out that your state is not willing to give you a helping hand?  Well that is a little bit of a slap in the face.

The one thing that we can take comfort in is the fact that if they won't help, there is always another parent out there who will.

So if you are trying to keep up the strength to advocate for your child in any area, whether it be to get them included in general education, for a medical test your gut is telling you is needed or just to get that grade changed on the history test you know they should have passed don't give up.

You are not alone and there might just be a parent or two waiting to walk on that road you are paving.

Sisters and the Winter Song

I think I might have been a little odd when I was young.  I was the oldest and only girl and did not appreciate my brothers as much as I do now.

Normal so far right?  Here comes the odd...

Whenever we had to go to the airport I would always say the entire rosary the night before.  I would pray that while we were at the airport I would run into a girl that looked just like me and we would find out that she was my identical twin and we were somehow separated at birth and she would get to come home with us and I would be all set up with the twin sister I had always wanted.

Not sure why the airport was the place or why my mom would not have known she gave birth to two children at once.

It all made sense to me at the time.

Scroll to the bottom of this post and hit play and then come back up and finish reading to go along with my vision for this post, I'll wait..................

Yesterday the kids were playing with Photo Booth (neat program on our Mac where you can see yourself in the computer screen and add in all kinds of special effects, i.e. our activity when I've got nothing) and McKenna, who cannot get enough of herself on screen, shoved her brother out of the way and hit the "Mirror Image" button.  In front of me appears two McKennas and I started clicking like a maniac to switch the screen back to normal as my heart was being torn out of my chest.


From the moment we were having triplets I knew that we would have two girls and a boy... I may have strayed from my Catholic school ways but all of that rosary-saying had to pay off somehow and getting to live out my long lost twin sister dream as the mom of girl/girl/boy triplets was more than the next best thing.

I think about McKenna all the time and my goofy dreaming younger self and how close she came to having what I always wanted.  I think about the rest of my kids too.   I know they will wonder about what life would have been with Hadley but they will be okay.  McKenna is the one I worry about.

There isn't a girl without sisters I know who does not wish she had one.  It is only a matter of time before she starts to realize what she should have had and I can't think of a good reason in the world to tell her why she doesn't.

Last winter I heard the most amazing song and when I googled it and saw the video I saw my girls.

My McKenna and my Hadley but without the happily ever after.

I wish I could end this post with a picture of them snuggled together but the last time they did that they were nestled right under my ribs, safer than I ever realized.

Day two of my December pity party, cue the music...

The next 25

I think I have mentioned a time or two or twenty that holidays have not been the easiest since we lost Hadley.

Thanksgiving was no exception.

Of course I spent plenty of time on Thanksgiving in gratitude for all that I have, I marveled at Sawyer's chunky baby-ness and cemented the memory of three year-old voices saying Happy Thanksgiving into my Mommy brain and took a step back to look at my amazing Ashlyn.

But I also was crabby and bitter and bit my husband's head off one time too many.

For the first hour or two of the day I was trying to figure out what my problem was and then I remembered what I seem to forget EVERY SINGLE holiday.

I can't do them right anymore.

Once we get to wherever we are going I get distracted and do okay but I can not seem to get good at the getting ready and trying to make the day normal and all of that other business.  I spend all of my time trying not to think about the fact that this is not the way Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, Mother's Day, Father's Day, the list goes on and on, is supposed to be.

On the way to my parents for Thanksgiving I told Mark that we need to do something different from now on and, like the husband who knows me like he does, he did not say anything to disagree but just let me continue blabbing on until I came to the conclusion myself that going somewhere different is not going to do a single bit of good because we could go to the moon but we will still be without our daughter.

And you can't get good at living without one of your children.   You can just hope that with time the bitterness will slowly fade and the person you once were will surface here and there.

My long holiday rant was all to say that going through the motions of the holidays is not something you look forward to once you are a loss mom and that is why Tina of Living Without Sofia and Ellie is a GENIUS.  Last year, Tina started 25 days of Giveaways for mom's who have lost a child and the response was overwhelming so she is doing it again this year.

For each day of December a different loss mom will be hosting a giveaway on her blog.  I believe that, aside from the support of all of these great women, this is the only other perk of my lifetime membership into the I-have-lost-a-child club.

So Tina has given us all something to look forward to each of the next 25 days and yours truly gets to host day 23.  I'm SO excited to do it but do not have a creative bone in my body to make something so am still wracking my brain for something to give away (if you have any ideas or create something of your own that you think would be a good idea PLEASE let me know).

Finally, to end my long, rambling post, if you are a loss mom visit Living Without Sofia and Ellie today to enter the first day of giveaways.

Dear Daddy

Me again Daddy.  I guess you have figured out by now that if I'm writing it means two things, I've got material and Mommy's burned out.

So here is how we did her in today.

Since her little Mommy and Me mishap our Tuesdays are now wide open so today we went somewhere we have never been before... to one of those indoor germ factories play places.  Mommy heard this one was clean and good for little ones so we gave it a go.

I loved it Daddy, I climbed and played and tried to keep up with the Crazies but, well, you know how they run, I ended up just hanging with Mommy.  

The Crazies found a friend and sure enough it was a little girl just their size.  The Crazies just loved that little girl and they said they were a "team" and kept going down the slides together holding hands.  Mommy was trying to cheer for them but she couldn't because she had a lump in her throat and tears in her eyes, and I think she was telling herself that this is how life would be if Hadley was here.

I just let her keep holding me, Daddy.

Lucky for Mommy, more kids joined the "team" soon and she felt better.  But then (here is where Mommy got tears again) she heard someone say "watch out team, don't step in the pee pee" and she didn't even need to look, she knew that the person who belonged to the pee pee puddle belonged to her.   So Mommy climbed in and pulled Parker out and started to clean it up but the people at the front said they needed to do it and Mommy was secretly relieved.

Once we managed to quarantine the play area, Mommy changed Parker and we moved on to the cafe to see what damage could be done there.  We did pretty good, I sat nice (had no choice, she strapped me in) and the Crazies ate while they sat down, stood up, sat down, stood up... the usual ants in their pants routine.  Who could blame them though?  There was a big fat Christmas tree right in that cafe, those shiny ornaments are like magnets.  Parker (who else?) just could not sit in his seat and eat his grilled cheese so Mommy gave up and let him eat in front of the tree.

She packed us up and we left really nice.  Once we were outside and Mommy was hanging onto all of us like we might run (because we will) Mommy looked in the window and saw it... little piles of chewed up grilled cheese hanging right on that Christmas tree next to those ornaments Parker was loving.  Merry Christmas Play Place, Parker left you a present.

Oh and on your way in today Daddy, could you grab Kenna's car seat?  She peed in it really proudly on the way home and Mommy is about done with this pee business for the day.

Thanks Daddy.

Love,
Sawyer

The Up Side of Autism

I have been around a few typical teenagers lately and have to say that I think there just might be a few things that could be considered perks to having a teen on the autism spectrum...

1.  Fifteen years and counting and I have not had to endure a single boy band concert... except when my own mother, as part of her motherly penance, took me and my group of big haired friends years ago.  But so far so good in Ashlyn's case.  She has no interest and if she did, she would need ear plugs and industrial headphones just to step inside anyway, defeating the purpose of going in the first place.

2.  Fashion is a non-issue.  As long as it is comfortable she does not care.  I have ventured into one or two of those stores where you come out smelling like you dipped your body in their cologne but I think it was more for me than her.  For the most part, she could care less what she wears, what you wear, what I wear.  It's nice.

3.  While there may not be an over-abundance of eye contact going on over here it is not because she is staring down at a phone, texting someone who she would much rather be talking to than me, until her fingers fall off.

4.  You never have to wonder what she is thinking.  It just comes right out.  She will tell you if you are late, early, too loud, in her way, smell bad, you name it.  There is no beating around the bush and actually you can't say "beating around the bush" because if you do you will be told that that does not make sense.

5.  Curfews are a non-issue.  I remember the days of negotiating with my own mom and also the nights of trying to tiptoe in the house after the day of negotiating proved unsuccessful.  I can happily brag that I know where my teenager is every Friday and Saturday night.  If she is pulling an all-nighter it is because someone forgot the melatonin.

6.  We are saving on car insurance and on a million arguments over why she can't borrow the car.  For a little while we wondered if driving may be an option someday but Ashlyn put the kabosh on that when she remind us that she does not know her own strength so would "only push the gas pedal all the way down."

7.  I am still her friend.  I have noticed that there are other people, usually around the age of 15, whom she would much rather see than me but for the most part, time with Mom is still on her list of things she can tolerate and I can pretend that I am cool until the rest of my kids become teenagers and tell me otherwise.

8.  She is affectionate.  We never hit the don't-even-breath-on-me phase.  She will hold my hand, dish out the hugs and would no doubt sit on my lap with the rest of the kids if we weren't the same size and everyone could fit.

Ashlyn and her Papa at her first black tie event

9.  No drama.  Okay, we have our fair share of drama but it is more of the you-screwed-up-my-schedule or the-bus-is-late variety not that mean teen girl drama that occurs in every other household.  There is no catty, she said this and her boyfriend did this, going on over here which leads into my final and favorite thing about my teenager with autism...

10.  She is kind and innocent.  There is seriously not a mean, malicious bone in her body.  She will treat you the same whether you are rich, poor, famous, homeless, 2 years-old, 90 years-old, can't speak, can't shut up, she does not care.  She will never speak behind your back, whisper about your new 'do or spin the truth.

What you see is what you get and in an all-is-right-in-the-autism-world moment I know that I have a lot more to learn from her than she does from me.