exit

Ivan just walked down from upstairs with wide eyes and calmly said
" mom. there is a black bird upstairs"

please let this is not some sort of omen.

sure enough- darn bird snuck in through the vent in the room I have stripped raw to it's bones on our second floor.

after some ridiculousness he finally calmed down- LOOKED- and saw that the window was wide open for him, and simply flew out.

reminding me of how often we are too worked up to actually SEE our exit that is so clearly lit.

life with autism

Autism- or - as "they" call it officially now- Autism Spectrum Disorder (same thing) it is not a shameful thing. it's different than some people, but not WRONG.

The first dr we saw when Malachi was diagnosed was kind of an asshole.
I was totally keeping it together and I asked him as calmly as could be " if this was YOUR son, what would you do?"
he looked at me and said " first..I would cry."

part of me gets it- deal with the emotional response. yes. I understand. But the other part of me is thinking- CRY??!! cry? that is your response? because it's a horrible diagnosis?? My son doesn't have cancer! he has autism! it's a learning style not a death sentence! fuck off!

But we go through all sorts of emotions over and over don't we?
it's a constant thing . one day you accept it and you move on and sometimes weeks go by and you don't even think about autism.
other times you barely survive 5 minutes at a time and all you can think about is the autism and how it's affecting your life and the lives of the other family members. and you have days when you are happy and embrace who your child is, and you have days when you DO want to cry. and that's ok too.
what it comes down to is just simply- no parent wants their child to struggle or have pain. on ANY level. EVER.
it's not any different for a parent of a child with autism than it is for any other parent. It's only that parents of kids who are dealing with something that is obvious and in your face- think about it a little more often.

when is the world just going to get to the point where we can accept that not only do some people not fit the " norm" but NO ONE DOES. there IS no normal.

lets just love each other for our differences . can't we?
give more understanding
give more patience
give more love

dad

my birthday card from my dad this year :

"thanks for being there for the entire family-
fashion coordinator, counselor, comedian, artist.
We love you and are so proud of you"

just be.

yesterday I was sitting in the backyard with my kids and there was no breeze at all.
not a stir in the air. As I looked up,I saw one single dandelion " wish" quietly flying along, just like it was riding an unseen river, bobbing and swaying and turning..like the tiniest umbrella . with no help from big great all controlling MAN. with no help from us that little seed just obeys and moves and will settle and grow. it will not ask for anything at all. it will just be. and then when it's time is up it will die. it will not ask " why" .

the river

there's this river near my parents house i am madly in love with
every time i see it i want to fling my body into it
a river is never in the same mood twice
it is alive

who's your support ?

i hate exercising. i hate it.
but i hate being fat even more

so how do you motivate yourself? how do you get through it? i think we're supposed to be positive and have a "support system" and all that...right? i'm pretty sure we're not supposed to call ourselves names and degrade ourselves in our head right? well so far it's working for me.
i am the meanest drill sergeant in my head. when i feel like i can't make that last mile or so i've been known to chant ' fatty fatty 2x4 can't get through the kitchen door' in my head. wrong?
probably.
one thing that really DOES help is music. music is the key. there have been times when i never would have gotten through my run without those words and those beats.

on a dark rainy day the postal service ran my 4 miles with me
another day it's moby, even the arcade fire jogged with me one day.
my husband prefers to listen to screamy violent music when he runs. I get it...but most of the time i choose friends that aren't yelling. because i do enough yelling in my own head.

mother's day

this morning i sat on the front steps and watched them run, scooter and bike back and forth down the sidewalk. how perfect they are.

this afternoon I saw a chubby little boy , around 11 years old with rosy cheeks carefully selecting dandelions from his front yard and placing them into his other hand already full with a big yellow bouquet. perfect.

driving along I watched as a husband and wife -well into their 60's- walked together hand in hand, arms swinging ... like teenagers newly in love.
perfect <3

bottle the moments

they slip away