OK

His eyes are huge, framed by these long gorgeous lashes. And he looks up at me, face all innocence and voice like a little cartoon character. "It's ok buddy!"

He'd been bringing me the jug of milk and he'd lost his grip. The jug dropped to the ground and it made a loud thunk and I saw emotions flitting across his face in the flash of a second. First, surprise. Then for the briefest of moments, panic. And finally, by the time he looked at me, calm had kicked in. "It's ok buddy!"

He knew the words to say. He knew that his Mama would know it was a mistake. He comforted himself with the words he'd heard us say so may times. "It's ok buddy!"

And it was ok. No harm, no foul. I picked up the milk, poured him a glass, and his world was right again.

But I can't get that moment out of my mind. Today is a hard day. I'm in my head this morning, I'm worrying and overthinking and making mountains out of every problem. And just when I think that I want to curl into a ball and cry, his little voice pops into my head. "It's ok buddy!" And somehow, the words meant for him are now comforting me. I can just imagine him here, patting my back and giving me the kisses that my little Rascal is famous for. The picture, the memory of that little voice saying such simple words, brings a smile to my face.

Yup. It's ok buddy. Thanks.

Adjusting

New and different can be good. It can be bad. It can be both. It can be neither.

It sometimes feels like the majority of my life right now consists of new and different. Ever since I came out of the closet it seems like everything has changed. Almost every relationship I have has changed. I have a new job and a new van and new people in my life and a new outlook.

Anyone in Autism World can tell you that change isn't always the easiest on our families. We begin summer break this week and the schedules will be different and the people working with the kids will be different and there will be a whole lot of new. But among the chaos of their new and my new and our new, there are some things that never change.

Diva Girl is still a diva. She was awarded the "Spunky Spirit" award at the end of the school year, which surprised just about no one. She's a head taller than most kids her age. Playing with beads and her ipad while perched on the top of her dresser is still her favorite past time. And, much to my dismay, she still loves to sniff my armpits as soon as I break out the tank tops. She's still my girl. And she knows her mama loves her.

Rascal is still a rascal. He was awarded the "Best Smile" award, and let's face it...that just means he is still a happy little fellow who is about the cutest thing you've ever seen. He loves to climb and run and be chased. He is a cuddle bug who still can't figure out that sometimes other people need to breathe when you are hugging them (especially little brother...poor kid gets loved on a little too much sometimes!) He is my big boy. And he knows his mama loves him.

Vlad is still my little hoppy happy flapper. You can find him with a pillow or pillow case at any given moment. He still isn't the quickest to smile, but when he does the sun comes out and the birds sing and it is worth the wait. He is still content to just sit and watch a movie with you, especially Monsters Inc or Veggie Tales. And the boy can chug milk like nobody's business. He is my baby (always will be, even when he's 50). And he knows his mama loves him.

And me? Well, I'm still the same friend and daughter and sister. I still love to get completely wrapped up in a good book. I still have a serious affection for coffee drinks. I spend a lot of time filling out forms and juggling therapists and worrying about communication and complaining about cooking dinner. I am their mama. And I love them like crazy.

So, some things never change. Some things are worth holding on to. Some things are such a part of who you are that you couldn't change them if you wanted to. And as the years go by I'm sure some of those things about my kids will change. They will grow and they will evolve and they will learn and discover who they are. But I bet more than a few of those things will always be true, they will always be an anchor in the chaos. So whenever new and different starts feeling like new and scary, I can come back here and reread this and remember. Some things never change.

What do you expect?

This week we had our annual IEP meeting for Rascal. Prior to the meeting, I was nervous. Nervous because I anticipated having to ask for something and I was afraid of a fight. I don't like confrontation. I'm kind of a wimp.

I ended up being pleasantly surprised. Shocked, really, when they already had goals and services added to address the issues that I came in concerned about. I had this moment where I got to look around the room and see, not people I had to fit against, but allies. They aren't perfect (they are people, after all), but they know my child. They love my child.

Earlier in the year I never would have guessed that things would have gone so smoothly. Rascal had a tough time transitioning to his new classroom this year and we even had to call in someone from the district to see if he should be in a different room. Back then, I was hurt. I would have sworn that his teacher didn't like him at all, that she wasn't willing to do the work to help him fit into her class. Honestly, I didn't think all too fondly of her and I didn't expect much of her.

I was wrong.

Looking back, I see that she was a teacher with 20 years of experience who had never had a kid quite like my Rascal and wasn't sure how to help him. She wanted him to thrive and learn, and was worried that he wasn't in the best place to do that. She didn't just look at him and see a problem, she looked at him and saw a little boy who needed more than she knew how to give.

In the end, she got help on how to help him. They learned how to speak one another's language. She grew in her confidence with him and he grew in his trust of her. And oh, I am so glad that he ended up in her classroom, because I can't imagine any teacher doing more. I am almost ashamed of how I used to think, of how low my expectations were and how wrong my assumptions were.

So often I think us special needs parents are in battle mode. We have all seen our kids be treated poorly, we have all had to fight for rights and services, we have all been hurt by the words and actions of people we thought were going to love our kids. I can't help but wonder if sometimes we just get stuck in the mentality that the people across the table are on the other side. And before you jump down my throat with But MamaSab, you don't know what it's like to have a truly awful teacher/team!, trust me when I say that I have.That is where I am coming from and why I had the mentality that I'd had. I've sat in a room and felt like no one in that room had any hope for my child, and it is one of the worst feelings in the world. What I am saying is don't let those experiences color all the future interactions you have with new teachers and new therapists and new teams. Don't always expect the worst and assume you are in for a fight.

Sometimes, you meet people along the way who want to help. Who love your kid. I almost missed out on seeing that. I hope you don't.

Who You Are

We sat down at the Parent Teacher conference with hopes of hearing good news. What I didn't realize at the time, was just how good the news could be.

They love my girl. Diva Girl has won the hearts of the entire school, it seems. Her two teachers, one regular education and the other special education, were eager to show us her progress but also to just talk about her personality. And let me tell you, the girl has personality. In fact, one of the first things said about her is that "She has such a big personality!" Ain't that the truth. The other words phrases we heard? "I love how sassy she is!"  "All of the kids love her." "She is so full of spunk!" "She is a hard worker, she loves to work." "She is so smart."

Those words just filled me up to the gills with pride. 

Yes, Diva Girl has autism. Yes, she has struggles. But that isn't what we focused on. We focused on these other words, these other descriptors that show every bit of who she is. I felt like they could see her. Not just her disability, but the whole of her. I am in no way ashamed of her autism, but she is so much more than just one label. She has many labels, many words that make up who she is.

All I want are for people to see them. Truly see my kids for who they are. I want them to see Diva Girl's sassy confidence. I want them to see Rascal's sweet heart. I want them to see Vlad's inquisitive mind. There are so many words to describe each of them. Smart, contemplative, beautiful, funny, silly, eager, hyper. She is a daughter and a sister, they are sons and brothers. They have depth and character and the capacity for so much more than one word could ever convey. 

So, when people see what I see in them, I get pretty excited. Really, I think that anytime anyone is truly seen for who they are, that is a beautiful thing. Diva Girl has no qualms about showing her truest self to the world. In her childish honesty, she has won the affection and love of everyone from the kids in her classroom to the vice principal. I couldn't be more proud.

Ordinary Moments Turned Into Beauty

I've been quiet here for about a week. Why is that? Because I'm terrified.

I had one crazy stalker person. I had one post that got a bit of attention. And that is scary, because in the world of autism blogging, attention is a double edged sword. It seems that no one can escape being raked over the coals for one thing or another. I've been honest enough in my blogging, honest enough in my struggles, that the idea of people looking over this with a critical eye makes me feel a bit sick. I've seen it happen to others, been watching it play out in the blogosphere all day.

I'm not sure I have the stomach for that.

You see, I'm not the kind of blogger that writes all about how my life with kids on the spectrum is sunshine and rainbows. I don't present Autism as a gift given to my children to make them extra awesome (they got their extra awesome in various ways, obviously.) There are times I indulge in a bit of self pity, and there are times I indulge in a lot of humor. I write from my heart, and my heart isn't always pretty. Life isn't always pretty.

I'm okay with that.

If everything was beautiful all of the time, would it be possible to truly appreciate beauty? It seems so often that it's the difficulty in life, the strife, that pushes the ordinary to be exquisite. And as I make our struggle  public, I attempt to make our joy public as well, and pray that it is all the sweeter for it. That's what I've been reminded of tonight.

Tonight, Rascal handed me a toy. He handed me a princess phone and hopped up and down, grinning ear to ear, looking me right in the eyes. And that's when it hit me. He was inviting me to play.

I put that phone to my ear and said "Hello? You want to talk to Rascal? Oh, okay, here he is!" And I handed him the phone. Rascal stopped hopping long enough to hold the phone up to his ear and answer "Hello?" He grinned at me again, and handed back the phone, and we went back and forth for a minute before he ran off. No big deal, right?

Wrong. So very, very wrong. This was beauty.

This was the first time my child truly invited me into his play world. The first time I was handed something without being reduced to a mere fixer or fetcher. It took me a second to even recognize that he wasn't handing it to me for me to turn it on or off or change it in any way. He wasn't handing it to me so that I would get him something. He gave me a toy so that I could play with him. With him. The moment I realized that, tears came to my eyes and I was in absolute awe.

It was an ordinary moment. Children do this all the time, every day all day. Children much younger than he is. Mothers all over the world take it for granted. And for us, it was a moment I will never forget, a bloom of beauty at the end of a hard day. Perfection.

You know what's even better? Half an hour later, he handed me Buzz Lightyear. My heart, it overflows. I'm crying with pure joy as I write this. Some of you reading this will understand. You've had these ordinary moments that were far from ordinary.

So yeah, I'll fess up to all the moments of feeling sad and alone and overwhelmed. I will talk about the lows, the ways that autism affects my marriage, the moments that I lose my cool. And then I will sing from the rooftops the highs, the moments that people step up and help out, the moments that I get to brag on my kids. I don't think I'd trade such high highs for anything. Not a darn thing.

And this kid? My little playmate? He's a Rascal.

The Middle Kid

Rascal. My dear, sweet, middle child. I look at this picture of him, and I smile because I see him rolling his bag like he's ready to go take on the world all by himself. When I think about Rascal, I think about his independent spirit, his love of adventure and diving into life headfirst, and his easygoing nature.

Unfortunately, I took to much of that for granted. I assumed too much.

See, this summer, Rascal has been thrown off his game. At three and a half years old, he has spent about half of his life in a fairly routine schedule, first at a therapy center and then at school. But this summer he has no regular routine, he has no classes. We thought he would be okay, with that. Unfortunately, he is adrift.

This summer seems to have been a perfect storm to create trouble for my little guy. It hasn't just been the lack of school. There has been a lot going on with the other two kids. You know, the less "easygoing" ones. And between the diagnosis of Vlad and the behavior issues of Diva Girl and trying to just survive a few weeks without The Husband, we let a lot of things slide with Rascal. Without even realizing it, I was doing much less with him and expecting less from him. We stopped expecting him to speak his requests because the other two aren't, and we could anticipate his wants and needs for the most part. It was easier, less time consuming. It was also wrong.

And now? Well, we have a little boy who stopped eating anything from the fruits and veggie department. His overall food intake has probably dropped about 50%. You never know when he will melt down over a train track not connecting well, or the expectation that he say "hi" to someone, or the demand that he put something away. He's not as happy.

Oh, the guilt!

I'm trying very hard not to beat myself up over this. I know he will be okay. We calling in some great therapists and we are committing to following through with what we know he needs at home. We've learned from this summer, and we know we won't let it happen again. But it just breaks my heart to know that I failed him. And even worse- that I know it won't be the last time that we make a mistake like this. With three kids on the spectrum, it seems impossible to meet everyone's needs, all the time. They all need so much, and they are all so different. How will we manage to give them all the individual attention they need? Don't even get me started on the financial aspect of providing them with the therapies they each need to be their best...

Deep breath.

Today is a fresh beginning. A new day with three little kids who are more than happy to teach me new lessons in life. Rascal, I will do my best to not let your middle child status and easygoing nature lull me into thinking that you somehow need less. Lesson learned, ok bud? Now...let's get to work.

Finding Balance

I've been a bit heavy on the Vlad focus lately, but I doubt anyone could blame me. I mean, even if it is our third time on this roller coaster, each experience has been different. So yes, I've been fairly focused on him both in what I've written online and what I talk about in person.

Now? I think it's time to find some balance.

Am I still going through the emotional process of accepting the diagnosis? Absolutely. There is no rushing these things. But it's time to take a step forward and focus on the health of my family as a whole.

And boy, there has been a whole lot of life going on that I've failed to mention.

For instance, Diva Girl has been making huge strides recently. We've known for a while that she can read, but it's almost impossible to determine just how much she can read and how much she comprehends. There is one very enthusiastic therapist in her life right now that really felt that there is much more going on than we could see in regard to reading, and he has been pushing for us to keep challenging her in this area. So, we set some new goals. This week, at her therapy center, they pulled up the keyboard on Proloquo2Go and asked her to spell a word. And she did. So they asked her to spell another word. And another. And another.....
She can peck out words. Whoa. Then they handed her a worksheet with directions written at the top. Instead of telling her what to do, as they normally would, they just let her look at it. The directions told her to use the color brown. So she looked at her crayons, picked out the brown, and got to work. She. Read. The Directions. She didn't just read it, she comprehended it.

I want everyone to pause with me for a moment. Let this sink in. Let the possibilities sink in to your brain and understand why I am so excited that I'm practically doing the happy flappy dance myself! If we keep down this path, Diva Girl can open up a whole world of communication. Her inability to access speech doesn't have to keep her silent. For maybe the first time, I am looking towards her going to school and am actually excited, because she may be able to participate in a way that I wasn't sure was possible. All this time we've known, we've been so sure, that this little girl has a brilliant mind. That those stinking test scores don't even come close to measuring the capabilities of our Diva (read: More Than a Number.) Don't let her body language fool you folks, this girl is listening and soaking it all in. She is reading for goodness sakes! Just because she isn't looking into your eyes, doesn't mean she isn't hearing and learning and storing it away in that world within her head.

I wish I could visit that world. For even one minute. I bet it's beautiful.


And Rascal? Well....he's been a Rascal, I can't lie. His toddlerhood is testing his boundaries and testing my patience. But even then, I see sparks of understanding and learning that are fresh and new. Tonight, we played together. Went over to the play kitchen and made a pretend meal and ate a pretend dinner together. Sure, I started it and kept it going, but he joined right in. He was interested and was enjoying playing with me. I wasn't "working" with him or wrestling with him....we played. I'm not sure we've ever truly done that before, not like this. Not with such a bright smile on his face, and a willingness to participate, and an understanding of what I was pretending. Again, I look into his eyes and I see so much behind them. A depth of understanding, a spark of liveliness that shows me that no matter what life throws his way...he's going to be okay. He's a fighter, that kid. And I don't just mean that recent love of tackling people (and why, oh why does he tend to tackle any pretty girl he meets??) I mean that he is tough enough to overcome the difficulties of autism and let the blessings of autism shine through. Yes, that's right, blessings of autism. They are there, folks.

As I refocus on my whole family, I'm liking what I'm seeing. I'm reminded of why I am jumping through the hoops of early intervention for Vlad- because I've seen its results in Diva Girl and Rascal. I'm also reminded that the therapy isn't the be-all-end-all. I made plenty of mistakes in Diva Girl's early days, and she is doing just fine thankyouverymuch. It's about balance. Between the therapy time and the play time. Between one kid and the other. Between the kids and The Husband. It's all a balancing act. Now, let's see just how coordinated I am.

A Day

Today is just a day. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing new, nothing to make it special.

It's just a day.

After last week, I welcome just an ordinary day. Last week was full of evaluations and blood work and stress. It was full of strained conversations and headaches and, to be frank, PMS level overemotional meltdowns. There was an incident where I literally cried over a browned pizza. Not burnt, just a bit more brown than I like it. Yeah.

Today has been simple. Get up, take Rascal to school, come back and eat breakfast with the other 2 littles.  I clean, and despite the futility of it, I feel accomplished. Vlad naps, Diva Girl drives me crazy. I relieve my cramps with chocolate and Pinterest. 

I'm the kind of girl who loves to get out of the house. I love meeting a friend for coffee or taking one of the kids somewhere or, my favorite, Mom's Night Out. In fact, my weekend included an evening event that kept me out until almost 1am and involved dancing. I may have briefly wore a blue wig and ate my weight in blue colored candies. It was glorious. 

So, I tend to pack out my days. That isn't hard to do because I very often HAVE to do a lot. But after a week like last week? Today, I treasure some peaceful moments at home. I smile at Vlad happy flapping as Kaa from The Jungle Book hypnotizes Mowgli. I laugh at Rascal as he uses the mountain of laundry to create a slide from the couch to the floor. I roll my eyes as Diva Girl tries to convince me to give her yet another pack of fruit snacks. 

There was still a To Do list of emails and calls (my recent irritation with Diva Girl probably has something to do with a medication change, and I was desperately calling her pediatrician to get a prescription called in!) But overall, today is a simple day. I could use a little simple in my life right now.

I'm sure tomorrow I will be itching to get out of the house. But today? This couch is plenty comfy and my kids are especially cuddly, and that's good enough for me.

Understand

Dear Folk Who Tell Me I'm Awesome,

I really debated with myself about posting this. A few days ago I had this long, written out draft...and deleted it. Because I'm a chicken. Because I'm afraid that if people really knew what goes on around here, they would judge me.

Well, today I'm putting on my big girl panties and getting real with you all.

On Thursday evening I completely lost my mind.

Yes, you may have seen my annoyed and exasperated comments on facebook or the pictures I posted on instagram. Maybe you pitied me. Maybe you laughed (I tend to coat my reality with a bit of humor to make it easier to swallow.) But you don't know the whole story.

The Toothpaste incident of 2013- Part I

It began with toothpaste. Rascal discovered the joy of coating his hands and the carpet with my toothpaste. He did this as I was having to deal with Diva Girl having turned on the kitchen sink, which is very much frowned upon ever since she completely ruined our dining room floor with 18 gallons of water.

The Water incident of 2013

So really, it began with The Sink. Then it was the toothpaste. Then it was about 5 other incidents involving damage to property or siblings within a few hours, the first few hours of The Husband being away for the weekend.

I was tired and frustrated, but keeping it together. That is, until I tried to put Vlad down to sleep for the night. That's when Rascal and Diva Girl found the other tube of toothpaste (that I wasn't even aware existed.) Without going into too much detail- I couldn't get Vlad to sleep due to all the squealing. I emerged from the bedroom to find toothpaste everywhere. Walls, carpet, doors, hands, hair, noses. There was yelling. A lot of crazy woman, terrifying the children yelling. And, much to my shame, there were swats to butts and rough carries to the bath tub. And of course, they started enjoying the bath so I had to yell some more- "THIS IS NOT A REWARD, MOMMY IS ANGRY!!!"

 By the time the older 2 were clean and on the couch downstairs, they were crying. Vlad was still in the bed, exhausted, screaming his head off. I became aware of all the screaming and crying and become slightly afraid that the neighbors that we share walls with are going to call the cops.

I walk back upstairs. I look around our now minty-smelling hallway. I realize that there is toothpaste all over my sweatshirt and since I'm still furious, I have this ridiculous battle with it to get it off. Once it's over my head, I hold it in my hands and just throw it on the floor. And I kneel on the floor, sobbing in rhythm with my three children, beating my hands against the toothpaste encrusted carpet, until the fight is out of me. Until I'm left with nothing but regrets for how I responded and this overwhelming feeling of helplessness and heartache.

It's not about the toothpaste. I know friends of mine with neurotypical kids will tell me about how their toddler has made a similar mess, I've seen the pictures! But for me...the toothpaste is just another messy incident in a string of them. The lotion, the hand soap, the makeup, the vaseline. They all have at least one story. It never seems to get better and they just get bigger and more able to reach things that I try to hide from them. They never seem to understand that what they did was wrong, which just makes me more angry.

It's the overwhelming feeling that things will always be this way, however irrational that may be. It's the fact that I promised myself the next time that I would react more calmly, and each time I seem to explode a little bit more, and I say and do things I swore I never would. It's the sheer exhaustion of having at least one child awake from 6am-11pm on average. It's the insomnia, when I finally do get to lay down, from the anxiety. It's the filthy home that I can't seem to get on top of and the self loathing that I have from living this way.

THIS is autism parenting awareness.

We need respite care. And more therapy for the kids. And then some more respite care. And a weekend AWAY. Maybe a week.

This is an ugly point to reach, and I know I'm not alone. We are an overwhelmed bunch, and on top of it all we are constantly told that we are doing SUCH a great job. We must be amazing parents, right? Lemme tell ya, I don't feel even close to amazing when my kids are staring at me with tears streaming down their little faces because they don't understand why their latest discovery of sensory play has Mommy yelling like a banshee. 

So, that's it. The ugly truth about me, as a parent of three special kids. I need help, as does every other Autism Mom that I know. But where are we going to get it? Right now I just have no idea, and no time or brainpower to figure that out.

Love,

The Woman Who Must Run And Clean Up The Water From The Leaking Dishwasher

My Loves

Everyone who is facebook friends with me knows that I was ridiculously excited to have fewer kids over the weekend.

My parents took Diva Girl and Rascal for a long weekend, allowing Vlad to be the only child for a while. Since his number one goal in life is to sit in my lap, completely undisturbed, he was thrilled with the change, I assume. Well, he was thrilled until we shipped him off for a night too!

As a dear friend took good care of Vlad, The Husband and I had our very first completely-kid-free night since....well, since the kids came into existence. It was glorious. I took a bath. A BATH. Sat around in my pink fluffy bathrobe, eating Reeses minis, and just enjoyed the quiet.

Oh yeah. It was good.

And I slept. For ten hours. Without any little feet kicking my side. I may have even woke in the middle of the night and thought "Oh, this is so wonderful...why did I ever have kids?!" before drifting back to sleep.

But then the next day we got our little squishy Vlad back and he just held on tight and looked at me with those big eyes and I couldn't help but kiss him like crazy. From there we left to go get the eldest children, and during the three hour drive I was practically wiggling in my seat with impatience. The van couldn't go fast enough.

I missed them. I missed their noise. Their chaos. Their hugs and kisses and high-fives. I almost even missed their horribly annoying stims that involve MY body (Diva Girl digs into my armpits, Rascal fiddles with my ears, and Vlad snaps my bra straps.) I missed them so much that I swear my heart literally ached to hold them. Of course, Diva Girl refused to even let me near her for over an hour, as though resentful of me intruding upon her special time with Grandma, but I digress...

Motherhood is crazy. These kids drive me to the very brink of sanity on a daily basis. But take them away for a few days? Well, I have a blast at first, obviously. But then I remember that I love these children more than anything else in the world. They are my little loves. They give me a reason to get out of bed in the morning, a reason to push to succeed in my business, and a reason to try to make the world a better place.

So maybe tomorrow I can manage to be a little more patient. Maybe I can take a deep breath and remember, when they are screaming and tugging on me and hitting one another, that there was a moment in time where I missed them.

And if I need that moment back, I can always ship them back to Grandma.

After an hour and a half, she forgave me!

Reunited with my boys

We Can Fly!

I did it! I pulled off a fabulous 3 kid birthday party! And I finally recovered enough to show it off!

I'm not normally the kind of mom who does the big, themed party. I'm more of the mom who invites some people over, throws some chips into a bowl, and calls it a day. But this year I felt like I owed the kids a decent shindig. I mean, last year I ruined Diva Girl's birthday by giving birth to Vlad (NOT her idea of a good birthday present, by the way) and the year before they were sick for their birthday party. 

When you have 3 kids and only 2 birthday dates only a couple of weeks apart, you automatically know that you are going to milk the joint-party for as long as humanly possible. But what kind of party could appeal to a one year old boy, a three year old boy, and a six year old girl? That's when I had a flash of brilliance...a Peter Pan Party. It has fairies and pirates and is just a perfect mix of boy/girl wonder! So I began to scour the internet for ideas.

In the end, I think you could safely say that I had a Pinterest Peter Pan Party. 

Here are pictures, along with links to where I got ideas from. Enjoy!

I set up the table by the door with all of the amazing peter pan hats that my fabulous mom whipped up. Thank you Sew in Harmony for this tutorial!

Also on that table I set up a "Wonderful Thought" station, where party guests left scribbles, notes, and general happy thoughts for the kids for us to treasure forever. They were wonderful to read later. 

I basically found these wonderful Peter Pan themed pictures on Pinterest, printed them out, and put them in frames from the dollar store. It's a great way to do cheap decor that doesn't look cheap!

Speaking of decor, how amazing are these banners? I found something similar once while browsing etsy and brought the idea to my Mom. They are made from a Peter Pan book, some scrapbooking paper, and ribbon, and I love them so much that one is taking up permanent residence in the kids' room.

I set up a few stations for the kids. One was "Pixie Hollow" and had coloring pages printed off from this Disney site. The other was "Pirate Cove" and had some dress up clothes and temporary tattoos...because every pirate gets a free tattoo when they sign up with the crew!

The boys were made Peter Pan outfits (again, courtesy of my amazing Mom) inspired by the Make it & Love it tutorial here. They were ADORABLE, if I do say so myself.

Diva Girl wore a Tinkerbell costume (go ahead, guess who made it), minus wings, plus a little bit of attitude.

Peter Pan had just come out of The Vault and we got it a couple of days before the party. Having the movie playing enabled my kiddos to enjoy the party instead of being completely overwhelmed by the amount of people that came. And trust me, I was overwhelmed myself. So many people love these little goobers!

Of course, a party isn't a party without the food! Especially cupcakes! Guess who had his first cupcake...

Ok, I know I should stop now. But here are some pictures I just couldn't leave out!

Thank you to everyone who came (there were lovely people there, but since I do not have permission to post their pictures, you're stuck looking at just my cute kids)! And a BIG thank you to my lovely friend, L, who let us use her beautiful home. You all made this day wonderful, and well worth all the work.

But next year? Back to my old party routine. 

My Nerves

There are times in life when I feel like Mrs. Bennett in Pride and Prejudice, crying out to everyone around me "Don't you know what this is doing to my poor nerves?!"

Right now is one of those times.

A lot of changes in what feels like a short period of time makes me slightly insane. I have random times when my stomach suddenly hurts and I think of one more thing that I have to do, or buy, or follow up on. Another form to fill out, another meeting to have. I keep waiting for the crazy train to slow down. Maybe I should just accept that it never does, that I'm a permanent passenger. Heck, I guess I'm the conductor.

In twelve days, Rascal starts preschool. In our local school. The one that I swore I'd set my hair on fire before sending my kids to. Oh how quickly things can change! I'm as confident as I'm going to be that this is the right thing to do, the best choice for him among the choices we currently have. But even then, I'm far from confident that this will be easy. There is always that constant doubt, at every turn. Are we doing the right thing? What is best for him? What is best for her? What is best for the family? Is it even possible to do the "best" for each child, or must we accept that no one situation will be perfect? No, I will never be 100% certain of anything we decide to do. I'm not sure it would be wise if I were.

So yes, my nerves are shot. And with us only months away from that all important 15-24 month period for Vlad and Diva Girl entering Kindergarten, I don't see my nerves getting any time to recover any time soon. In times like this I realize that I have to reach out and steady myself. This comes in different ways every day. A dinner with my husband. Coffee with my best girl friends. Diving into a good book. Bible study with my church. These things anchor me, they keep me sane. They remind me that even in the midst of change, some things remain constant: Love, Friendship, Imagination, Faith.

If you don't have some anchor points in your life, you're going to end up drifting in a sea of anxiety. So tell me, how do you handle the stress of change and uncertainty in your life? What calms your nerves?