Traditions Born In Necessity

My brother texted me earlier to tell me that THE EASTER BUNNY CAME. He seemed pretty excited. He went on to tell me that he'd just gotten home at 2 and had remembered that Mom used to hide eggs all around the house. So he did, and was pretty happy about it.

So was I.

It reminded me, having forgotten, why we used to do it that way. When I was a little girl we'd go to the city park where instead of eggs they would just have scattered these candies about for the hunt.

They were wrapped, but this was all you got. It was still a pretty big deal, warranting a pretty dress and shoes for the occasion, there is no question where my own daughter gets it.

However one year nature didn't cooperate and the Saturday before Easter there were storms - and no hunt. I was heartbroken. When I woke up Easter morning my mom informed me that the Easter bunny felt so bad about the hunt being cancelled that he just came and hid eggs at our house - so I spent my morning hunting eggs all over.

The same thing happened the next year and boom, we had a family tradition.

Around here our traditions evolved around necessity, around having two special little guys. This year they evolved some more as Daddy is sick as can be. I made a general announcement that the Easter bunny will be making a SPECIAL trip to our house this evening as Daddy has special work to do to help him and he was quite sick this morning.

That seemed to be quite well accepted and allowed for some much needed rest for the Paterfamilias.

We decided to try rolling our eggs in whipped cream (vs shaving cream) and food coloring to see if we could make some pretty eggs.

I thought we were making something to eat. Sad.

But everybody got into the action which was good. It's fun to dye your eggs new ways. But you gotta have good old Paas on standby right?

The Bunny will be making an appearance after while, there will be great surprise I feel certain. Luckily Daddy is well enough to help him in his many candy related chores.

I hope he likes our offering.
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Traditions Born In Necessity

My brother texted me earlier to tell me that THE EASTER BUNNY CAME. He seemed pretty excited. He went on to tell me that he'd just gotten home at 2 and had remembered that Mom used to hide eggs all around the house. So he did, and was pretty happy about it.

So was I.

It reminded me, having forgotten, why we used to do it that way. When I was a little girl we'd go to the city park where instead of eggs they would just have scattered these candies about for the hunt.

They were wrapped, but this was all you got. It was still a pretty big deal, warranting a pretty dress and shoes for the occasion, there is no question where my own daughter gets it.

However one year nature didn't cooperate and the Saturday before Easter there were storms - and no hunt. I was heartbroken. When I woke up Easter morning my mom informed me that the Easter bunny felt so bad about the hunt being cancelled that he just came and hid eggs at our house - so I spent my morning hunting eggs all over.

The same thing happened the next year and boom, we had a family tradition.

Around here our traditions evolved around necessity, around having two special little guys. This year they evolved some more as Daddy is sick as can be. I made a general announcement that the Easter bunny will be making a SPECIAL trip to our house this evening as Daddy has special work to do to help him and he was quite sick this morning.

That seemed to be quite well accepted and allowed for some much needed rest for the Paterfamilias.

We decided to try rolling our eggs in whipped cream (vs shaving cream) and food coloring to see if we could make some pretty eggs.

I thought we were making something to eat. Sad.

But everybody got into the action which was good. It's fun to dye your eggs new ways. But you gotta have good old Paas on standby right?

The Bunny will be making an appearance after while, there will be great surprise I feel certain. Luckily Daddy is well enough to help him in his many candy related chores.

I hope he likes our offering.
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Easter Egg Hunts You Can't Find On GPS

Our day was nearly ruined. It started with rain. No back that up. It started last night when the girl said "I can't wait to see my Easter dress" and I responded "Well we're going to a farm, so I thought you'd just wear your cute flowered overalls."

Oh dear. No. That was the wrong answer. Luckily the husband had run to Walmart and I sent an emergency ACQUIRE SOME SORT OF DRESS text. He shot back some photos and I picked one and we were set.

Then Saturday arrived. The husband was full blown sick, switching places with me as the most deathly ill person in the house. He came to bed freezing and shivering and chilling, and wasn't much better when it was time to go. I loaded up the address in my phone as this Easter Egg hunt farm is up in the mountains and I didn't really remember where it was.

That was the first problem. Most places in our mountains can't seem to be properly GPS'd. I find this to be problematic. I know that there are people who crave spots the GPS doesn't know but I am not one of these. I WANT TO HAVE EVERY INCH OF THE EARTH MAPPED AND PINGING A DAMN SATTELITE. So we made a turn we didn't recognize and ended up rolling up a mountain, eventually onto a one lane road.

We'd laughed about the "last gas for 20 miles" sign except when we were halfway up the mountain with no sign of it ending and our gas light came on. The time was ticking and we were losing. We asked one then two locals. With no signal we were stuck trusting their directions - none of which were QUITE right it seemed as they kept us going mountain-ward. Eventually we circumnavigated an entire lake community, a mountain or two and our gas gauge was dropping further and further below the line.

(Photo credit - things I saw while lost)

Suddenly - I GOT SIGNAL. I made a frantic phone call to some really nice people at the farm who, despite me having no signs or landmarks for a minute or two were able to piece together where I was from the sign at a church - AND GOT US THERE right on time. Low on gas, nerves frazzles, but ON TIME.

We lined up and got ready...to GET SOME EGGS.

Miles has to wear his hood up like a Sith. I don't know why.

Louis had to help Charlie, but he didn't seem to mind, and even though he's "too big" for all of this I think he kind of likes participating. Don't tell anyone.

The hunt itself went quickly, as they do. It's a nice big field and no one seems to mind the twins, even though they're kind of big for it. I am sort of thinking maybe we'll just end up filling eggs or something ourself next year - Julia is still little enough but Miles and Charlie won't understand why they are too big. It's hard being a great big little guy.

They dont conceive of being 11. They're just little tiny guys in their own minds.

Charlie looks drunk. He is not drunk. I promise.

It's a very nice spot, however, for egg hunting and even better than that, there are other things to do there. Like, take a train ride. We may officially be getting too big to get on these little trains together.

With my husband feeling worse and worse we crammed into a little train car for a tour of the farm. It began to rain, but we were in the covered caboose with no worries, except that we were crammed into a little train car.

The oldest boy suffered the indignity of the whole thing rather well I felt.

After that we headed into the gem mine to pan for gems, and buy pretty rocks, and just look at stuff in general.

We got to swing a bit and play before it was time to head home and get Daddy to bed where he so desperately needed to be.

The twins love to swing so much, I wonder sometimes how much it would be to put in a REALLY sturdy wooden swing set like this that THEY could use for a long time. They would love it.

All this being said, we had our Easter egg hunt and the fun of the Hillside Farm once again. We survived being lost in the mountains, almost running out of gas and a rain storm that threatened our day. Eggs were obtained, joy was had, and really that was the point of it.

I've got my husband tucked back into bed sick as hell, and my kids are doing random things and I'm just relaxing and thinking about how much my mom would've liked the photos of the kids today. We would've talked about all of them, and laughed at Charlie's silly swing face, and his silly drunk face. I miss having her to share these moments with, but I'm glad I'm still making these memories with my little people.

I asked Julia what was her favorite part of the day.

She said "Everything."

I'll take it.
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Easter Egg Hunts You Can't Find On GPS

Our day was nearly ruined. It started with rain. No back that up. It started last night when the girl said "I can't wait to see my Easter dress" and I responded "Well we're going to a farm, so I thought you'd just wear your cute flowered overalls."

Oh dear. No. That was the wrong answer. Luckily the husband had run to Walmart and I sent an emergency ACQUIRE SOME SORT OF DRESS text. He shot back some photos and I picked one and we were set.

Then Saturday arrived. The husband was full blown sick, switching places with me as the most deathly ill person in the house. He came to bed freezing and shivering and chilling, and wasn't much better when it was time to go. I loaded up the address in my phone as this Easter Egg hunt farm is up in the mountains and I didn't really remember where it was.

That was the first problem. Most places in our mountains can't seem to be properly GPS'd. I find this to be problematic. I know that there are people who crave spots the GPS doesn't know but I am not one of these. I WANT TO HAVE EVERY INCH OF THE EARTH MAPPED AND PINGING A DAMN SATTELITE. So we made a turn we didn't recognize and ended up rolling up a mountain, eventually onto a one lane road.

We'd laughed about the "last gas for 20 miles" sign except when we were halfway up the mountain with no sign of it ending and our gas light came on. The time was ticking and we were losing. We asked one then two locals. With no signal we were stuck trusting their directions - none of which were QUITE right it seemed as they kept us going mountain-ward. Eventually we circumnavigated an entire lake community, a mountain or two and our gas gauge was dropping further and further below the line.

(Photo credit - things I saw while lost)

Suddenly - I GOT SIGNAL. I made a frantic phone call to some really nice people at the farm who, despite me having no signs or landmarks for a minute or two were able to piece together where I was from the sign at a church - AND GOT US THERE right on time. Low on gas, nerves frazzles, but ON TIME.

We lined up and got ready...to GET SOME EGGS.

Miles has to wear his hood up like a Sith. I don't know why.

Louis had to help Charlie, but he didn't seem to mind, and even though he's "too big" for all of this I think he kind of likes participating. Don't tell anyone.

The hunt itself went quickly, as they do. It's a nice big field and no one seems to mind the twins, even though they're kind of big for it. I am sort of thinking maybe we'll just end up filling eggs or something ourself next year - Julia is still little enough but Miles and Charlie won't understand why they are too big. It's hard being a great big little guy.

They dont conceive of being 11. They're just little tiny guys in their own minds.

Charlie looks drunk. He is not drunk. I promise.

It's a very nice spot, however, for egg hunting and even better than that, there are other things to do there. Like, take a train ride. We may officially be getting too big to get on these little trains together.

With my husband feeling worse and worse we crammed into a little train car for a tour of the farm. It began to rain, but we were in the covered caboose with no worries, except that we were crammed into a little train car.

The oldest boy suffered the indignity of the whole thing rather well I felt.

After that we headed into the gem mine to pan for gems, and buy pretty rocks, and just look at stuff in general.

We got to swing a bit and play before it was time to head home and get Daddy to bed where he so desperately needed to be.

The twins love to swing so much, I wonder sometimes how much it would be to put in a REALLY sturdy wooden swing set like this that THEY could use for a long time. They would love it.

All this being said, we had our Easter egg hunt and the fun of the Hillside Farm once again. We survived being lost in the mountains, almost running out of gas and a rain storm that threatened our day. Eggs were obtained, joy was had, and really that was the point of it.

I've got my husband tucked back into bed sick as hell, and my kids are doing random things and I'm just relaxing and thinking about how much my mom would've liked the photos of the kids today. We would've talked about all of them, and laughed at Charlie's silly swing face, and his silly drunk face. I miss having her to share these moments with, but I'm glad I'm still making these memories with my little people.

I asked Julia what was her favorite part of the day.

She said "Everything."

I'll take it.
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Invisible Children

Everyone hopes that their children will do/be/achieve greatness in the world. I think that's normal. I mean, we've always said "We just want them to be happy" and that's quite true. But when they hand you that baby after hours of blood, sweat and agony, they are also handing you a clean slate of possibility in the form of another human. This child, this mewling pink thing could be anything. They might invent the cure for cancer. They might be a great poet. They might be the world's greatest car thief. You don't know what they will be - but the possibilities are endless.

They are endless until you learn your child has a disability for which there is no cure, no end, and no meaningful improvement from. Then you learn to set your sights lower, reduce the scope of your dreams, and be happy for what you have. We used to say that Charlie would be a pilot, when he was a toddler. He LOVED planes - still does. He loved them the way my brother Matt loved trains. We'd laugh, "Charlie will fly helicopters. Charlie will fly planes one day." It was a little meaningless game all parents play. It was heartful, and happy and silly. It was also dead wrong.

Charlie will never fly a plane. Unless it's some sort of death plane - he'd be fine at flying at that.

My twin boys will likely live our their lives with me and their father and some day have to live in some sort of a home unless their siblings have the means to afford some one to help care for them in their own home. They won't write literature, fly planes, cure disease or create anything lasting on this earth. But they will have been loved, and safe, and happy. That's as good as I can ever hope for. If we get more than that on any day, I will count it good fortune and be grateful.

I won't give up hope for improved treatments or therapies for them, but I also won't live my life waiting for them. I accept that this might be it. They might be EXACTLY like this until the day I die. That's ok if that's how it is.

They're invisible on the earth. I see them, but the world really won't ever see them or regard them. There won't be people who remember them fondly except our immediate family, no people who look up to them, or regard them as peers and comrades in arms. They're singular, each alone even as they are together.

Imagine my surprise when last night we reviewed papers from school and this was in Miles work.

It says:
Dear President Carter
This month we are studying about peacemakers. We were taught about how you were a peacemaker.
I want to thank you for your work in domestic and foreign affairs.. You gave people hope.
Sincerely
Miles McNeal

His class all wrote letters, and they were taken to former President Carter...and READ TO HIM.

Now, I'm positive he had some help writing the letter as I can't recall the last time Miles brought up DOMESTIC AND FOREIGN AFFAIRS.

But here's the thing.

Jimmy Carter heard a letter written by my Miles. Jimmy Carter, former president, Nobel Peace Prize Winner, heard a letter written by Miles.

I literally burst into tears when I learned this. My invisible child was heard by him. He probably won't remember, it was probably one of 50 letters from Special kids he heard that day. That doesn't matter.

One of the most important figures of the late 20th century (whether you life him or not) heard of my child. It is something I would never have dreamed was possible. It makes me happier than I can ever explain, unless you have a disabled child yourself. In that case, I know you understand.
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Invisible Children

Everyone hopes that their children will do/be/achieve greatness in the world. I think that's normal. I mean, we've always said "We just want them to be happy" and that's quite true. But when they hand you that baby after hours of blood, sweat and agony, they are also handing you a clean slate of possibility in the form of another human. This child, this mewling pink thing could be anything. They might invent the cure for cancer. They might be a great poet. They might be the world's greatest car thief. You don't know what they will be - but the possibilities are endless.

They are endless until you learn your child has a disability for which there is no cure, no end, and no meaningful improvement from. Then you learn to set your sights lower, reduce the scope of your dreams, and be happy for what you have. We used to say that Charlie would be a pilot, when he was a toddler. He LOVED planes - still does. He loved them the way my brother Matt loved trains. We'd laugh, "Charlie will fly helicopters. Charlie will fly planes one day." It was a little meaningless game all parents play. It was heartful, and happy and silly. It was also dead wrong.

Charlie will never fly a plane. Unless it's some sort of death plane - he'd be fine at flying at that.

My twin boys will likely live our their lives with me and their father and some day have to live in some sort of a home unless their siblings have the means to afford some one to help care for them in their own home. They won't write literature, fly planes, cure disease or create anything lasting on this earth. But they will have been loved, and safe, and happy. That's as good as I can ever hope for. If we get more than that on any day, I will count it good fortune and be grateful.

I won't give up hope for improved treatments or therapies for them, but I also won't live my life waiting for them. I accept that this might be it. They might be EXACTLY like this until the day I die. That's ok if that's how it is.

They're invisible on the earth. I see them, but the world really won't ever see them or regard them. There won't be people who remember them fondly except our immediate family, no people who look up to them, or regard them as peers and comrades in arms. They're singular, each alone even as they are together.

Imagine my surprise when last night we reviewed papers from school and this was in Miles work.

It says:
Dear President Carter
This month we are studying about peacemakers. We were taught about how you were a peacemaker.
I want to thank you for your work in domestic and foreign affairs.. You gave people hope.
Sincerely
Miles McNeal

His class all wrote letters, and they were taken to former President Carter...and READ TO HIM.

Now, I'm positive he had some help writing the letter as I can't recall the last time Miles brought up DOMESTIC AND FOREIGN AFFAIRS.

But here's the thing.

Jimmy Carter heard a letter written by my Miles. Jimmy Carter, former president, Nobel Peace Prize Winner, heard a letter written by Miles.

I literally burst into tears when I learned this. My invisible child was heard by him. He probably won't remember, it was probably one of 50 letters from Special kids he heard that day. That doesn't matter.

One of the most important figures of the late 20th century (whether you life him or not) heard of my child. It is something I would never have dreamed was possible. It makes me happier than I can ever explain, unless you have a disabled child yourself. In that case, I know you understand.
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Park Under The Chicken

When we were in the mountains a couple of weeks ago one of our goals was to stop at a place the husband had been to a while back. He wanted me to see the place.

So this place was so ridiculous and fun. She's a local artist who essentially makes yard art, but man it's just yard art of the highest order.

For someone who has no interest in yard work at all, I have to admit that I suddenly want to landscape and have all the yard art ever. This is just adorable. I want to be THAT neighbor. I want to have weird, unnecessary things in my hard.

The kids loved the really giant things, like the dragon and the king kong. Hey look there's my shadow! I'm giant too!
Do you think my neighbors would care if I buried a car in my yard for art?

What if it was cute? They probably would. Also I wouldn't tend the shrubs so it would look all life after people shortly. So no to that I suppose.

I have so many decorating aspirations and I swear this life sucks them all out of me. THIS IS SO CUTE. I want a little camper and to decorate it. I'm sick today so all I can do is imagine what it would be like to have such energy to decorate things and stuff.
When it was all said and done, we decided we are going to be THOSE neighbors and I got two pieces of yard art and sorry not sorry.

The pig is a real working weathervane.
Yes, I need to work on my flower garden, I know.

I have this GREAT IDEA for flowerbed edging...but it sounds like a lot of work so you know, haven't done it. But it would be SO CUTE.

Some day.

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