48 Hours of Controlled Chaos

This morning I am joined by a five year old wearing Pinkie Pie pajamas. They're the last present my mom ever sent her, and it made me melancholy to see her in them. My mind got all wander-y, as if that were a word, and thinking about this new year and the last year and all the things.

I have been thinking a LOT about how quickly things shift in a life, and how many things can be packed into a short amount of time. I'd like some level ground for a while, but don't know if anyone gets that. It's hard to imagine how things can swing so far one way to another, and how odd and singular a life can be even when surrounded by others.

My New Year's Eve started off at the hospital.

It looked like this for hours.

That's my view from the table. I had to go get my six month mammogram "diagnosis" after them having found something "probably benign" visit after visit. The thing is, they keep finding different things and the previous thing disappears. What that means is that it's cysts, however it also means I end up at the hospital women's imaging center every six month undergoing what I feel like is a dehumanizing hell. They aren't unkind, but there is something about it that makes me like a stone of terror.

This time they seemed "concerned" in their cheery chatty way. Usually I go in, get the mammogram. Go back, get another one on one side, then they go "oh hey let's do an ultrasound" and that takes like 30 minutes. The first thing that was different was they KEPT bringing me back for different mammogram looks on both sides. She'd make a concerned then "oh I'm cheery" face that they must teach them and then squish me and apologize for the fact that it hurt.

It's normally about an hour to an hour and a half process. This time it was over three hours. About an hour into the ultrasound I started to shake and I couldn't stop, It just hit me, I was still in 2015 - the cursed year. My mind began to race, 'This is is, you're gonna have cancer because this year is so fucking stupid this is just fucking perfect' and other thoughts and I just felt like well, there you have it and now I'm going to die.
Eventually via ultrasound they got the look they wanted at the tissue areas circled. They're very dense apparently and don't show what's inside well, so they have to basically shove the ultrasound wand through my breastbone to get a look in there. They found one side was just dense tissue with no hidden gems, and the other was just a small cyst and nothing else. Come back in six months, you're not going to die - yet.

And then, the wheel turned and it was New Year's Eve again instead of death diagnosis day.

It was determined by the girl that we were having a reindeer themed New Year's Eve celebration. It's a very strange fact, but somehow in the course of one day I went from being pretty sure I was about to be referred to an oncologist for bad news to wearing reindeer antlers and celebrating New Year's Eve with South African wine and smores.

Not together you heathens.

I had even forgotten my morning, my terror, my tears of relief in the dressing room when it was all over, by the time I got home. I might not have remembered had I not taken pictures of the adventure and found them in my phone.

But my evening was filled with the opposite of my morning. There was love, and kisses, and smores and roasting marshmallows. We watched Willie Wonka and Dick Clark's Rockin' Eve and our 2015 ended with a quiet set of hugs and kisses goodnight.

Yesterday was a pain in the ass for hours on end. Everyone got up too late. My deep desire to be left alone in peace wasn't in the cards. I was DENIED. I was bitter about it. The twins were cranky pants about everything and anything. Eventually my husband called me to the bedroom and had me lay down. He wrapped me up with blankets, threw a leg over me and demanded I close my eyes.

I slept and something oddly magical happened. Without the audience of me to offend with their nonstop fighting, it stopped. The kids wandered into various parts of the house and played. I would wake up every so often to be admonished to lay still and close my eyes. like a child I obeyed, slipping back into my blanketed safe zone and letting everything fade.

By the time I got back up, things had stabilized.

I worked out, made lunch and played a matching game with the girl.

Early evening my husband declared we were starting the New Year right - WE WERE GOING OUT!

The girl put her money into her new wallet and her new wallet into her purse and declared she was READY to go. We piled into the van and went to that suburban paradise Olive Garden and dammit we had a pretty good meal.

Everyone was happy. Miles surprised us by reaching for the salad tongs and putting salad on his plate, we think they must have gone there with his social skills group, so I helped him put some salad on his plate and he happily picked out the olives and tomatoes (his favorites). I renewed my love affair with moscato wine, and they forgot my meal so I ended up getting a children's portion at a much better price and it's really all I needed to eat anyway.

In 48 hours I made smores, thought I was going to be told I was gonna die, watched Willie Wonka, had a mandatory nap, played a game,worked out,had an amazing and fun dinner.

Today I'm up for anything. What do you have universe? I'm ready for you.
Tweet

48 Hours of Controlled Chaos

This morning I am joined by a five year old wearing Pinkie Pie pajamas. They're the last present my mom ever sent her, and it made me melancholy to see her in them. My mind got all wander-y, as if that were a word, and thinking about this new year and the last year and all the things.

I have been thinking a LOT about how quickly things shift in a life, and how many things can be packed into a short amount of time. I'd like some level ground for a while, but don't know if anyone gets that. It's hard to imagine how things can swing so far one way to another, and how odd and singular a life can be even when surrounded by others.

My New Year's Eve started off at the hospital.

It looked like this for hours.

That's my view from the table. I had to go get my six month mammogram "diagnosis" after them having found something "probably benign" visit after visit. The thing is, they keep finding different things and the previous thing disappears. What that means is that it's cysts, however it also means I end up at the hospital women's imaging center every six month undergoing what I feel like is a dehumanizing hell. They aren't unkind, but there is something about it that makes me like a stone of terror.

This time they seemed "concerned" in their cheery chatty way. Usually I go in, get the mammogram. Go back, get another one on one side, then they go "oh hey let's do an ultrasound" and that takes like 30 minutes. The first thing that was different was they KEPT bringing me back for different mammogram looks on both sides. She'd make a concerned then "oh I'm cheery" face that they must teach them and then squish me and apologize for the fact that it hurt.

It's normally about an hour to an hour and a half process. This time it was over three hours. About an hour into the ultrasound I started to shake and I couldn't stop, It just hit me, I was still in 2015 - the cursed year. My mind began to race, 'This is is, you're gonna have cancer because this year is so fucking stupid this is just fucking perfect' and other thoughts and I just felt like well, there you have it and now I'm going to die.
Eventually via ultrasound they got the look they wanted at the tissue areas circled. They're very dense apparently and don't show what's inside well, so they have to basically shove the ultrasound wand through my breastbone to get a look in there. They found one side was just dense tissue with no hidden gems, and the other was just a small cyst and nothing else. Come back in six months, you're not going to die - yet.

And then, the wheel turned and it was New Year's Eve again instead of death diagnosis day.

It was determined by the girl that we were having a reindeer themed New Year's Eve celebration. It's a very strange fact, but somehow in the course of one day I went from being pretty sure I was about to be referred to an oncologist for bad news to wearing reindeer antlers and celebrating New Year's Eve with South African wine and smores.

Not together you heathens.

I had even forgotten my morning, my terror, my tears of relief in the dressing room when it was all over, by the time I got home. I might not have remembered had I not taken pictures of the adventure and found them in my phone.

But my evening was filled with the opposite of my morning. There was love, and kisses, and smores and roasting marshmallows. We watched Willie Wonka and Dick Clark's Rockin' Eve and our 2015 ended with a quiet set of hugs and kisses goodnight.

Yesterday was a pain in the ass for hours on end. Everyone got up too late. My deep desire to be left alone in peace wasn't in the cards. I was DENIED. I was bitter about it. The twins were cranky pants about everything and anything. Eventually my husband called me to the bedroom and had me lay down. He wrapped me up with blankets, threw a leg over me and demanded I close my eyes.

I slept and something oddly magical happened. Without the audience of me to offend with their nonstop fighting, it stopped. The kids wandered into various parts of the house and played. I would wake up every so often to be admonished to lay still and close my eyes. like a child I obeyed, slipping back into my blanketed safe zone and letting everything fade.

By the time I got back up, things had stabilized.

I worked out, made lunch and played a matching game with the girl.

Early evening my husband declared we were starting the New Year right - WE WERE GOING OUT!

The girl put her money into her new wallet and her new wallet into her purse and declared she was READY to go. We piled into the van and went to that suburban paradise Olive Garden and dammit we had a pretty good meal.

Everyone was happy. Miles surprised us by reaching for the salad tongs and putting salad on his plate, we think they must have gone there with his social skills group, so I helped him put some salad on his plate and he happily picked out the olives and tomatoes (his favorites). I renewed my love affair with moscato wine, and they forgot my meal so I ended up getting a children's portion at a much better price and it's really all I needed to eat anyway.

In 48 hours I made smores, thought I was going to be told I was gonna die, watched Willie Wonka, had a mandatory nap, played a game,worked out,had an amazing and fun dinner.

Today I'm up for anything. What do you have universe? I'm ready for you.
Tweet

Another Year Over And A New One Just Begun

We have a standing New Year's Eve tradition of making S'mores in our fireplace (or in the microwave if it's JUST too hot for a fire) to share and watching Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin Eve. It's a far cry from getting tickets to some hotel event and renting a room so we can stay up all night and drink & party. 

I prefer this, I have to admit.

I think it's one of the great advantages of having your kids a bit later in life. I don't regret NOT getting to go out and party, I already did all of that. In fact, the idea of going out and staying up till 3 or 4 is downright unappealing. I stayed up till almost 12:30 (because I wanted to see Elton John darnit!) and then I put my kids in bed and crashed myself. I had one glass of pink champagne because WHY NOT and really slept like the dead. 

I don't have any resolutions this year. I started some things I will keep going and there are things I need to do better and there are things I need to change but they aren't going to be resolutions because that to me makes me feel like I need to join a gym or something. (Ok I might need to but still no).

Well, maybe I have one resolution. I resolve that for 2015, I am going to make sure we create more moments like this:

And more moments like this:

There. That's my resolution. More of that. Less of not that.

Happy New Year.

Another Year Over And A New One Just Begun

We have a standing New Year's Eve tradition of making S'mores in our fireplace (or in the microwave if it's JUST too hot for a fire) to share and watching Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin Eve. It's a far cry from getting tickets to some hotel event and renting a room so we can stay up all night and drink & party. 

I prefer this, I have to admit.

I think it's one of the great advantages of having your kids a bit later in life. I don't regret NOT getting to go out and party, I already did all of that. In fact, the idea of going out and staying up till 3 or 4 is downright unappealing. I stayed up till almost 12:30 (because I wanted to see Elton John darnit!) and then I put my kids in bed and crashed myself. I had one glass of pink champagne because WHY NOT and really slept like the dead. 

I don't have any resolutions this year. I started some things I will keep going and there are things I need to do better and there are things I need to change but they aren't going to be resolutions because that to me makes me feel like I need to join a gym or something. (Ok I might need to but still no).

Well, maybe I have one resolution. I resolve that for 2015, I am going to make sure we create more moments like this:

And more moments like this:

There. That's my resolution. More of that. Less of not that.

Happy New Year.

Starting It Off Right

Starting off my New Year's Day baking with my children was possibly the best thing I could think of to do, to start 2013. It got me thinking, while two of them were stirring and the other two were having a bit of a Gangnam Style dance around the kitchen, that my good friend is right, I hold back stuff that other autism parents might like to know.
I thought of this, when I was taking out cups for water.

It isn't a decision that seems that monumental. All parents move their kids from sippy cups to regular cups.

Except that, I moved mine at about age 7.

That's not something I have ever felt good about sharing. So weird, but - my 8 year olds aren't that great with regular cups. When we go out to eat, we still give them sippy cups for their soda because CHAOS. Soft cups get squished in over excited hands, cups go flying if hands are flapping. Their hands do flap and flail a bit sometimes, especially when excited or upset.

My oldest son built our fire by himself last night. That's not a skill my twins are ever likely to pick up. But, they gathered close (after I took this picture of course), and waited for marshmallows to burn up crispy for our New Year's Eve treat of smore's while we watched Dick Clark's New Years Rockin' Eve.

It's not a perfect life. But it's ours and I like it. I even like it on the days I don't like it at all.

I think that's the trick.

So it's 2013. Time for another year of adventure. I hope you enjoy it as much as I will.
Tweet

Starting It Off Right

Starting off my New Year's Day baking with my children was possibly the best thing I could think of to do, to start 2013. It got me thinking, while two of them were stirring and the other two were having a bit of a Gangnam Style dance around the kitchen, that my good friend is right, I hold back stuff that other autism parents might like to know.
I thought of this, when I was taking out cups for water.

It isn't a decision that seems that monumental. All parents move their kids from sippy cups to regular cups.

Except that, I moved mine at about age 7.

That's not something I have ever felt good about sharing. So weird, but - my 8 year olds aren't that great with regular cups. When we go out to eat, we still give them sippy cups for their soda because CHAOS. Soft cups get squished in over excited hands, cups go flying if hands are flapping. Their hands do flap and flail a bit sometimes, especially when excited or upset.

My oldest son built our fire by himself last night. That's not a skill my twins are ever likely to pick up. But, they gathered close (after I took this picture of course), and waited for marshmallows to burn up crispy for our New Year's Eve treat of smore's while we watched Dick Clark's New Years Rockin' Eve.

It's not a perfect life. But it's ours and I like it. I even like it on the days I don't like it at all.

I think that's the trick.

So it's 2013. Time for another year of adventure. I hope you enjoy it as much as I will.
Tweet

Reality and Fun On NYE

I worked all day with pneumonia, then came home and changed a blown out poopie diaper while my husband and oldest son put our living room back together (they'd been cleaning).

Then it was to the bathtub with the three little ones who weren't all that interested in getting their hair washed. They were less interested in getting their hair brushed out, I tell you what.

But you know what, on this night of revelry, I don't look on these events as tests or trials.

I don't feel all that bad about them.

I have s'mores planned for later, and Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve minus Dick Clark. There will be hugs and kisses and good things. I might play WoW with the boy or my husband or not.

You have to know what's good or what's bad. Sometimes, even your bad is better than other people's good.

I'm taking that idea with me into 2013.

And I'm making it a better year.

Tweet

Reality and Fun On NYE

I worked all day with pneumonia, then came home and changed a blown out poopie diaper while my husband and oldest son put our living room back together (they'd been cleaning).

Then it was to the bathtub with the three little ones who weren't all that interested in getting their hair washed. They were less interested in getting their hair brushed out, I tell you what.

But you know what, on this night of revelry, I don't look on these events as tests or trials.

I don't feel all that bad about them.

I have s'mores planned for later, and Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve minus Dick Clark. There will be hugs and kisses and good things. I might play WoW with the boy or my husband or not.

You have to know what's good or what's bad. Sometimes, even your bad is better than other people's good.

I'm taking that idea with me into 2013.

And I'm making it a better year.

Tweet

Marshmallows a Plenty in The New Year

I have decided that the one thing Florida is sorely missing is roasting marshmallows.
I lived there for years and I never once saw anyone roast a marshmallow not even on the nights it got cold (yes sometimes even in Tampa it gets cold).
Even just as far north at Atlanta, people know that winter time means roasting marshmallows time.
We of northern origin, we like a good burned up piece of confection.

As a matter of fact, we like them so much that not only did we have some at our trip to see the Christmas Lights at Lake Lanier that we decided we had to have them for our New Year's Eve.
Cuz you know, we know how to party.

The oldest boy got cookbooks from his grandma and he was in charge of our feast for the evening - making English Muffin Pizzas for the family.

It was a kid friendly food festival and, according to the 7 year old - the best New Years Eve ever.

And so - 2010 begins. So far it's been nothing like the movie.

Marshmallows a Plenty in The New Year

I have decided that the one thing Florida is sorely missing is roasting marshmallows.
I lived there for years and I never once saw anyone roast a marshmallow not even on the nights it got cold (yes sometimes even in Tampa it gets cold).
Even just as far north at Atlanta, people know that winter time means roasting marshmallows time.
We of northern origin, we like a good burned up piece of confection.

As a matter of fact, we like them so much that not only did we have some at our trip to see the Christmas Lights at Lake Lanier that we decided we had to have them for our New Year's Eve.
Cuz you know, we know how to party.

The oldest boy got cookbooks from his grandma and he was in charge of our feast for the evening - making English Muffin Pizzas for the family.

It was a kid friendly food festival and, according to the 7 year old - the best New Years Eve ever.

And so - 2010 begins. So far it's been nothing like the movie.