Wet Like Fish

I always think, wrongly, that giving the twins a shower instead of a bath will be easier. Time-wise, it IS easier. I can get them in and out of the shower in under ten minutes. But if you haven't ever put into a shower and TRIED to bathe a 12 year old who may or may not be having it, you'd realize quickly why this isn't always the best option.

It's my selfish side that wants them to shower. I don't want to risk the poop in the tub. I don't want to have to clean up the INCREDIBLE mess of water they make. I don't want to sit and WAIT for them to have enough time playing.

I'm a dick like that.

The trade off is the struggle. Sometimes they're super into it. They think it's fun, it's different. They don't mind getting under the shower head and they laugh a lot. Sometimes, not so much. Sometimes it is a FIGHT and if you've ever tried to FORCE someone under the shower head while not getting soap in their eyes you realize that the proposition of a shower is a dodgy one at best.

This morning, however, I embarked on SHOWERQUEST as I'm going to start calling it with what I'd call a medium level of success. There was a little grumbling about washing their hair but overall clean was accomplished in an efficient manner and we are all ready for out day should we end up going out for a adventure.

This brings me to the true down side of SHOWERING 12 year old boys. They're tall. They're VERY VERY TALL now. Whether they are happy or Defcon 1 about it, the gravity of the shower of water raining down doesn't change. Reach your arm up to rinse their hair under the shower and you've just created the autobahn for water to run the length of your arm, into your armpit, soaking into your bra and shirt. It's unavoidable.

It looks like this.

I know, I'm a major artist.

So I sit here, soaked and moist in unpleasant places content in the knowledge that my kids are clean and we're ready for today. I accomplished all of this early so that they had time for their hair to dry before we went out.

It occurs to me, though, now I could really use a shower...

Wet Like Fish

I always think, wrongly, that giving the twins a shower instead of a bath will be easier. Time-wise, it IS easier. I can get them in and out of the shower in under ten minutes. But if you haven't ever put into a shower and TRIED to bathe a 12 year old who may or may not be having it, you'd realize quickly why this isn't always the best option.

It's my selfish side that wants them to shower. I don't want to risk the poop in the tub. I don't want to have to clean up the INCREDIBLE mess of water they make. I don't want to sit and WAIT for them to have enough time playing.

I'm a dick like that.

The trade off is the struggle. Sometimes they're super into it. They think it's fun, it's different. They don't mind getting under the shower head and they laugh a lot. Sometimes, not so much. Sometimes it is a FIGHT and if you've ever tried to FORCE someone under the shower head while not getting soap in their eyes you realize that the proposition of a shower is a dodgy one at best.

This morning, however, I embarked on SHOWERQUEST as I'm going to start calling it with what I'd call a medium level of success. There was a little grumbling about washing their hair but overall clean was accomplished in an efficient manner and we are all ready for out day should we end up going out for a adventure.

This brings me to the true down side of SHOWERING 12 year old boys. They're tall. They're VERY VERY TALL now. Whether they are happy or Defcon 1 about it, the gravity of the shower of water raining down doesn't change. Reach your arm up to rinse their hair under the shower and you've just created the autobahn for water to run the length of your arm, into your armpit, soaking into your bra and shirt. It's unavoidable.

It looks like this.

I know, I'm a major artist.

So I sit here, soaked and moist in unpleasant places content in the knowledge that my kids are clean and we're ready for today. I accomplished all of this early so that they had time for their hair to dry before we went out.

It occurs to me, though, now I could really use a shower...

Diamond Birthdays Part Two

We went nontraditional in terms of cake for Miles and Charlie's 12th. They don't much like cake, or don't like it on a regular basis. More often than not they get upset at being asked to eat it, and that's no way to spend your birthday. The husband decided to make chocolate rice krispie treats crusted with M&Ms because hey, at least we know they like M&Ms.

We took them bowling, because we know they like bowling as it's something they do for Special Olympics. We made it a little family bowling party, and since it was a league night the place was hoppin' and fun.
Their favorite bit might have been the food, as we ordered apps and more apps and just ate this and that and the other thing all night, nibbling on junk food in a way that 12 year old boys can only dream of.

It's weird to have kids that you're guessing what they like. At various points that evening they would get aggravated. You want to have a birthday party for them that's special, that they like. But when they can't TELL you want they like, you're just winging it the best you can.

There were definitely some happy times, though. Big smiles and giggles but who knows if this is how they wanted to spend their birthday? I don't have any clue.

I changed diapers a couple of times for my twelve year olds, in the bowling alley bathrooms. Despite that, my two little boys ate lots of treats picked out just for them, drank their weight in Pepsi and bowled their little hearts out. I think they had fun.

It's harder and harder, the older they get. The gap between them and the children who aren't disabled becomes more and more apparent, things will get more and more challenging. It's hard to think about my little tiny boys becoming teenagers. It's hard to imagine them being 12.

But regardless of any of that, my trepidations of them growing but not growing up, their aggravation over the noise, the diapers, the stress of having TWO severely autistic little boys out in public, we six were out for a night out and we had fun.

We ate junk food and there were presents and it was a birthday after all. We six were together and in the end, that's all that we need to make a day perfect.

Happy Birthday to Miles and Charlie, the first living twins ever born in my family. I love you guys so much. You have no idea.
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Diamond Birthdays Part Two

We went nontraditional in terms of cake for Miles and Charlie's 12th. They don't much like cake, or don't like it on a regular basis. More often than not they get upset at being asked to eat it, and that's no way to spend your birthday. The husband decided to make chocolate rice krispie treats crusted with M&Ms because hey, at least we know they like M&Ms.

We took them bowling, because we know they like bowling as it's something they do for Special Olympics. We made it a little family bowling party, and since it was a league night the place was hoppin' and fun.
Their favorite bit might have been the food, as we ordered apps and more apps and just ate this and that and the other thing all night, nibbling on junk food in a way that 12 year old boys can only dream of.

It's weird to have kids that you're guessing what they like. At various points that evening they would get aggravated. You want to have a birthday party for them that's special, that they like. But when they can't TELL you want they like, you're just winging it the best you can.

There were definitely some happy times, though. Big smiles and giggles but who knows if this is how they wanted to spend their birthday? I don't have any clue.

I changed diapers a couple of times for my twelve year olds, in the bowling alley bathrooms. Despite that, my two little boys ate lots of treats picked out just for them, drank their weight in Pepsi and bowled their little hearts out. I think they had fun.

It's harder and harder, the older they get. The gap between them and the children who aren't disabled becomes more and more apparent, things will get more and more challenging. It's hard to think about my little tiny boys becoming teenagers. It's hard to imagine them being 12.

But regardless of any of that, my trepidations of them growing but not growing up, their aggravation over the noise, the diapers, the stress of having TWO severely autistic little boys out in public, we six were out for a night out and we had fun.

We ate junk food and there were presents and it was a birthday after all. We six were together and in the end, that's all that we need to make a day perfect.

Happy Birthday to Miles and Charlie, the first living twins ever born in my family. I love you guys so much. You have no idea.
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The Nadirs of Autism

A perfect storm started on Friday night. We hadn't been any where all week mostly really because of my foot. The kids were home for Spring Break and school is one of those routines that is sacred to the twins. They LOVE it. So a week without it already put us at a bad place. Add to that, we decided that my foot being weird (numbness) meant we really needed me to stay off of it and be good for the weekend.

Thus, two more days at home. By Sunday all four of them had gone stir crazy.

On Sunday it rained. It started out pretty mellow, Charlie got me up very early and we sat up and waited for the lawn care people to show up and do their thing. Eventually I drug the rest of the little humans out of bed and figured, mellow day is going well.

At breakfast the wheels came off slightly. Everyone was a bit discombobulated but it didn't seem TOO bad. However as the day progressed and our inactivity apparently became more apparent, the twins patience with this waned. As did Julias.

Charlie's method of coping was thrashing and screaming.  Eventually he just gave it up that he needed a nap and went to his room and slept off the crazy.

Miles however decided to engage in NOTHING WILL MAKE ME HAPPY NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO. I tried getting the four of them to play Candyland with me. The big boy politlely declined (ok he's ten) and the girl wouldn't sit still or pay attention, Charlie wouldn't pay attention or try. Miles understood how to play. This was his twenty minutes of good behavior for the day. He played, was Candyland grand champion.
The rest of the day was spent fighting with Charlie, fighting with Julia, fighting over toys, screaming and sobbing randomly, and making this noise that sounds like a cat in heat. The noise infuriates me and goes RIGHT THROUGH ME. He knows this. So he keeps it up.

In fairness to me, I lasted though one and a half kiddie movies before I started yelling and losing my cool. Seriously, what is it that I can't sit and have my foot up and let me kids watch movies in peace? I can't. Because watching any kind of TV is some sort of drama.

Autism is so unfair. It makes the smallest of things impossible sometimes. It infuriates me. I shouldn't have to sit and endure two children screaming for no reason. My other children shouldn't have to endure two children screaming for no reason.

And more importantly, my children screaming shouldn't be experiencing whatever the hell it is that is making them scream.

That's the thing though. You don't know what's wrong. IT COULD BE NOTHING. THEY MIGHT LIKE THE SOUND. It's like some sick joke, see that child sobbing hysterically? Nothing wrong with him. Just having a sensory moment.

As a mother, it's devastating. My child is hysterical. And I cannot fix it. There should be a fix. I should be able to hold them or sing to them or get them candy and there just IS NO FIX.

I ended up taking a shower and standing in the shower and sobbing. Afterward apologizing to Miles for yelling at him, and for his autism. I know I didn't "do" it, but still, I made him. Any mother with a child that has a congential problem will probably tell you, the guilt of that eats at you every minute of every day. "What did I do wrong?" Probably nothing. Or I passed on bad genes and I couldn't help it.

Sunday ended with early bed times and Monday school started back up. Life is normal again.

I'll have another day like that, some day sooner rather than later. And I'll cry a lot.

Because it's all I can do.

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The Nadirs of Autism

A perfect storm started on Friday night. We hadn't been any where all week mostly really because of my foot. The kids were home for Spring Break and school is one of those routines that is sacred to the twins. They LOVE it. So a week without it already put us at a bad place. Add to that, we decided that my foot being weird (numbness) meant we really needed me to stay off of it and be good for the weekend.

Thus, two more days at home. By Sunday all four of them had gone stir crazy.

On Sunday it rained. It started out pretty mellow, Charlie got me up very early and we sat up and waited for the lawn care people to show up and do their thing. Eventually I drug the rest of the little humans out of bed and figured, mellow day is going well.

At breakfast the wheels came off slightly. Everyone was a bit discombobulated but it didn't seem TOO bad. However as the day progressed and our inactivity apparently became more apparent, the twins patience with this waned. As did Julias.

Charlie's method of coping was thrashing and screaming.  Eventually he just gave it up that he needed a nap and went to his room and slept off the crazy.

Miles however decided to engage in NOTHING WILL MAKE ME HAPPY NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO. I tried getting the four of them to play Candyland with me. The big boy politlely declined (ok he's ten) and the girl wouldn't sit still or pay attention, Charlie wouldn't pay attention or try. Miles understood how to play. This was his twenty minutes of good behavior for the day. He played, was Candyland grand champion.
The rest of the day was spent fighting with Charlie, fighting with Julia, fighting over toys, screaming and sobbing randomly, and making this noise that sounds like a cat in heat. The noise infuriates me and goes RIGHT THROUGH ME. He knows this. So he keeps it up.

In fairness to me, I lasted though one and a half kiddie movies before I started yelling and losing my cool. Seriously, what is it that I can't sit and have my foot up and let me kids watch movies in peace? I can't. Because watching any kind of TV is some sort of drama.

Autism is so unfair. It makes the smallest of things impossible sometimes. It infuriates me. I shouldn't have to sit and endure two children screaming for no reason. My other children shouldn't have to endure two children screaming for no reason.

And more importantly, my children screaming shouldn't be experiencing whatever the hell it is that is making them scream.

That's the thing though. You don't know what's wrong. IT COULD BE NOTHING. THEY MIGHT LIKE THE SOUND. It's like some sick joke, see that child sobbing hysterically? Nothing wrong with him. Just having a sensory moment.

As a mother, it's devastating. My child is hysterical. And I cannot fix it. There should be a fix. I should be able to hold them or sing to them or get them candy and there just IS NO FIX.

I ended up taking a shower and standing in the shower and sobbing. Afterward apologizing to Miles for yelling at him, and for his autism. I know I didn't "do" it, but still, I made him. Any mother with a child that has a congential problem will probably tell you, the guilt of that eats at you every minute of every day. "What did I do wrong?" Probably nothing. Or I passed on bad genes and I couldn't help it.

Sunday ended with early bed times and Monday school started back up. Life is normal again.

I'll have another day like that, some day sooner rather than later. And I'll cry a lot.

Because it's all I can do.

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Progress Comes In Many Forms

The Norm: I walk the first boy to the bus at the end our driveway every day at 6:50 ish. He has serious Mommy attachment issues, does my Miles. He holds one or both of my hands everyday as we walk down the driveway, often burying his face against my hip as we walk. He's ok as long as I walk all the way down the drive right to the door of the bus with him.

He looks back several times as he steps on, making sure I am standing there.

I never move until the bus is out of site.

TODAY: before we even left the porch, he let go of my hand and took off in front of me.

He never looked back, boarded the bus without so much as a castoff glance over his shoulder.

I guess this is progress.

..................

Scene: I am sitting on the toilet. The boy mentioned above, is in the small half bath with me, singing into the mirror and banging on the Elvis candy tin that decorates this room. He always has to come with me, or there is screaming. The door opens, and the other twin comes in.

He promptly has a seat on my lap - while I am sitting on the toilet.

He hugs me close and says - "Family."

Yes. This is family.

And, in our world - this is progress.

Progress Comes In Many Forms

The Norm: I walk the first boy to the bus at the end our driveway every day at 6:50 ish. He has serious Mommy attachment issues, does my Miles. He holds one or both of my hands everyday as we walk down the driveway, often burying his face against my hip as we walk. He's ok as long as I walk all the way down the drive right to the door of the bus with him.

He looks back several times as he steps on, making sure I am standing there.

I never move until the bus is out of site.

TODAY: before we even left the porch, he let go of my hand and took off in front of me.

He never looked back, boarded the bus without so much as a castoff glance over his shoulder.

I guess this is progress.

..................

Scene: I am sitting on the toilet. The boy mentioned above, is in the small half bath with me, singing into the mirror and banging on the Elvis candy tin that decorates this room. He always has to come with me, or there is screaming. The door opens, and the other twin comes in.

He promptly has a seat on my lap - while I am sitting on the toilet.

He hugs me close and says - "Family."

Yes. This is family.

And, in our world - this is progress.

Then They Turned Seven

Happy Birthday to two of my favorite people on the Earth.

Then They Turned Seven

Happy Birthday to two of my favorite people on the Earth.

You HAVE To Try

So my entire parenting ethos of never letting my kids watch violence and crap on TV has completely died on the vine. I did pretty well for about six years, and then my oldest boy wanted to watch PRIMEVAL on the BBC and it's been all down here from there. I just let more and more in.

Such as.....recently.......

2012.

Yes that 2012. Sigh I let him watch it, and not only did he watch it he watched it AGAIN in High Def when we got the new TV.

It's ok. Fairly silly but meh. But I digress.

We're watching this scene, classic movie situation where a plane is teetering on the edge of a cliff and just barely nudged over - and the pilot does the quick PHEW because he thinks everything is ok...and then WOOOPS the plane slides over and he dies a fiery death.

The boy looks at me and says,"Mom WHY did he just sit there?"

And that is when I start talking."He should've jumped up and run to the back of the plane and hopped out one of the emergency exits. He could've jumped out long before the plane got to the cliff as he really wasn't FLYING it anymore."

The boy and I start having this discussion, about the pilot and how he just sat there and I add, "Yes - you ALWAYS have to try. You can't just let that happen, you might die anyway, but you have to try."

Which is, I will now admit to you, sort of a personal mantra.

You HAVE to try.

It's like defensive driving for your LIFE.

There is a part of me that is always ready. I know how I will get out of any building in any situation. If it's a building I go into frequently I know MULTIPLE ways I will go.I work out how to hang on to FOUR children in emergencies. I know how I'll get us all out if the car goes into water.

I might not succeed. But no one will ever be able to say I didn't try.

The rest of our lives works that way too.

We don't have "normal". Haven't had for years. But you have to TRY. You have to go out to dinner and to movies and museums and festivals. You have to keep moving and do what you have to to make your life continue to GO forward.

We don't always succeed. I have a kid who will take his shoes and socks off at a restaurant every time. Sometimes there is screaming. Sometimes one of them counts loudly, much to the displeasure of everyone around us.

You have to try.

Because if you don't, you're just those people who are prisoners of fate. You DO fall of the cliff with the plane. You DO find yourself trapped at home 24/7 with children who are special needs - never getting OUT or interacting with adults or other humans.

You can't let fate win every time.

She's gonna win in the end.

But until that day, you HAVE to try.

You HAVE To Try

So my entire parenting ethos of never letting my kids watch violence and crap on TV has completely died on the vine. I did pretty well for about six years, and then my oldest boy wanted to watch PRIMEVAL on the BBC and it's been all down here from there. I just let more and more in.

Such as.....recently.......

2012.

Yes that 2012. Sigh I let him watch it, and not only did he watch it he watched it AGAIN in High Def when we got the new TV.

It's ok. Fairly silly but meh. But I digress.

We're watching this scene, classic movie situation where a plane is teetering on the edge of a cliff and just barely nudged over - and the pilot does the quick PHEW because he thinks everything is ok...and then WOOOPS the plane slides over and he dies a fiery death.

The boy looks at me and says,"Mom WHY did he just sit there?"

And that is when I start talking."He should've jumped up and run to the back of the plane and hopped out one of the emergency exits. He could've jumped out long before the plane got to the cliff as he really wasn't FLYING it anymore."

The boy and I start having this discussion, about the pilot and how he just sat there and I add, "Yes - you ALWAYS have to try. You can't just let that happen, you might die anyway, but you have to try."

Which is, I will now admit to you, sort of a personal mantra.

You HAVE to try.

It's like defensive driving for your LIFE.

There is a part of me that is always ready. I know how I will get out of any building in any situation. If it's a building I go into frequently I know MULTIPLE ways I will go.I work out how to hang on to FOUR children in emergencies. I know how I'll get us all out if the car goes into water.

I might not succeed. But no one will ever be able to say I didn't try.

The rest of our lives works that way too.

We don't have "normal". Haven't had for years. But you have to TRY. You have to go out to dinner and to movies and museums and festivals. You have to keep moving and do what you have to to make your life continue to GO forward.

We don't always succeed. I have a kid who will take his shoes and socks off at a restaurant every time. Sometimes there is screaming. Sometimes one of them counts loudly, much to the displeasure of everyone around us.

You have to try.

Because if you don't, you're just those people who are prisoners of fate. You DO fall of the cliff with the plane. You DO find yourself trapped at home 24/7 with children who are special needs - never getting OUT or interacting with adults or other humans.

You can't let fate win every time.

She's gonna win in the end.

But until that day, you HAVE to try.

Now THEY Are Six

When they were babies, we thought it was the hardest time of our lives. Two babies felt like ten babies and the sleep deprivation was epic.


We didn't know the challenges and obstacles that had been laid like mines in their little brains, waiting to go off and teach us the meaning of the word HARD.



It has not been a fast six years.


But you know what? They are a joy really. They are funny. They are learning to talk. And today is the special day that they became part of our family.


No matter what, we are so happy they are here.

Happy Birthday Miles and Charlie. We love you so.

Now THEY Are Six

When they were babies, we thought it was the hardest time of our lives. Two babies felt like ten babies and the sleep deprivation was epic.


We didn't know the challenges and obstacles that had been laid like mines in their little brains, waiting to go off and teach us the meaning of the word HARD.



It has not been a fast six years.


But you know what? They are a joy really. They are funny. They are learning to talk. And today is the special day that they became part of our family.


No matter what, we are so happy they are here.

Happy Birthday Miles and Charlie. We love you so.

Put Me In Coach

I have to admit it, I'm more than vexed by the concept that I've conceived a child that won't obey mother nature and turn the correct direction for delivery. I got lucky previously. I know this. Easy labor, easy births - even the twins - for a TWIN delivery were a cake walk comparatively.

I have always, ALWAYS gotten my way, when it came to labor and delivery.

I got the drugs, I got the experience I wanted.

And well......I kinda like it.

I don't FEAR it. It's the known to me. I know for a fact that this frame and these hips can get the job done, I'm BUILT to breed except for that whole deformed uterus thing.

I can DO this, Mother Nature. Put me in. What's the trade off this time? No drugs......well that'd suck but you know what, I'd take it over the c-section I really would. I'd take a deep breath and plung forward that women have for thousands of years and it'd be fine.

I'm not being put in. I've been sidelined, reduced to a spectator in the birth of my own child, my only daughter. It's making me a little bitter, I have to admit. If I brush aside my abject FEAR of surgery, of the recovery, of the pain and suffering I'm going to endure afterward vs. the next to nothing after childbirth.......I'm fucking PISSED OFF that I'm no longer an integral part of this process.

I am not the crew. I am the Enterprise. And that is so not cool.

Does it beat the alternatives? Well hell yeah. I'd rather this than either of us end up dead. But I'm a bit pissed off at fate I have to admit.

And I'm gonna be a huge baby about this whole thing. I'd like everyone to just get their hankies out now because I'm not gonna be brave or tough or nuttin.

I have included random pics from our Twins Club Spring Party for one reason.

They make me happy.

Hope yours was magical too.

Put Me In Coach

I have to admit it, I'm more than vexed by the concept that I've conceived a child that won't obey mother nature and turn the correct direction for delivery. I got lucky previously. I know this. Easy labor, easy births - even the twins - for a TWIN delivery were a cake walk comparatively.

I have always, ALWAYS gotten my way, when it came to labor and delivery.

I got the drugs, I got the experience I wanted.

And well......I kinda like it.

I don't FEAR it. It's the known to me. I know for a fact that this frame and these hips can get the job done, I'm BUILT to breed except for that whole deformed uterus thing.

I can DO this, Mother Nature. Put me in. What's the trade off this time? No drugs......well that'd suck but you know what, I'd take it over the c-section I really would. I'd take a deep breath and plung forward that women have for thousands of years and it'd be fine.

I'm not being put in. I've been sidelined, reduced to a spectator in the birth of my own child, my only daughter. It's making me a little bitter, I have to admit. If I brush aside my abject FEAR of surgery, of the recovery, of the pain and suffering I'm going to endure afterward vs. the next to nothing after childbirth.......I'm fucking PISSED OFF that I'm no longer an integral part of this process.

I am not the crew. I am the Enterprise. And that is so not cool.

Does it beat the alternatives? Well hell yeah. I'd rather this than either of us end up dead. But I'm a bit pissed off at fate I have to admit.

And I'm gonna be a huge baby about this whole thing. I'd like everyone to just get their hankies out now because I'm not gonna be brave or tough or nuttin.

I have included random pics from our Twins Club Spring Party for one reason.

They make me happy.

Hope yours was magical too.

I Don't Wanna Go

We're going to an Autism Support group tomorrow night.

I hate this part of it. We need to go. It's so important. But...when my little guys are at home, they're just babies. Babies who are a little OFF but really - they're like these really big 2 year olds.

But the short bus pulls back up in front of the house again on Monday,and tomorrow during the day we go to meet the Angel who teaches Autism Special Education Kindergarten. And the reality gets back to rolling that my babies are not quite right, they are in fact in need of help that we don't know how to give them.

So we're going. I think it will be good but sad to meet other people like us, people who UNDERSTAND what we mean when we talk about our children, about our challenges.

But I don't want to go. Every step, the short bus, the special education, the support group - it makes it all real and I hate that. I hate the reality of their disability and it makes me angry and sad just like it's day 1.

My grandfather had a sister who was blind from scarlet fever she got as a child. Her parents kept her home, cloistered from the world. Safe from harm. I used to think that this was unkind of them to do - there was so much she could've done with her life.

But now I understand.

I understand completely.

I Don't Wanna Go

We're going to an Autism Support group tomorrow night.

I hate this part of it. We need to go. It's so important. But...when my little guys are at home, they're just babies. Babies who are a little OFF but really - they're like these really big 2 year olds.

But the short bus pulls back up in front of the house again on Monday,and tomorrow during the day we go to meet the Angel who teaches Autism Special Education Kindergarten. And the reality gets back to rolling that my babies are not quite right, they are in fact in need of help that we don't know how to give them.

So we're going. I think it will be good but sad to meet other people like us, people who UNDERSTAND what we mean when we talk about our children, about our challenges.

But I don't want to go. Every step, the short bus, the special education, the support group - it makes it all real and I hate that. I hate the reality of their disability and it makes me angry and sad just like it's day 1.

My grandfather had a sister who was blind from scarlet fever she got as a child. Her parents kept her home, cloistered from the world. Safe from harm. I used to think that this was unkind of them to do - there was so much she could've done with her life.

But now I understand.

I understand completely.

There Was a Birthday

Two birthdays - actually.

There were presents.

And there was excitement.

Then there was Chuck E Cheese where there was dinner theater.

And a general good time had by all.

Happy Birthday Babies.
They will not always be my little boys. But they will always be my babies.

There Was a Birthday

Two birthdays - actually.

There were presents.

And there was excitement.

Then there was Chuck E Cheese where there was dinner theater.

And a general good time had by all.

Happy Birthday Babies.
They will not always be my little boys. But they will always be my babies.