The Afternoon Has Gently Passed Me By

Our pool has become the respite from the anxiety/stress/tantrums that Autism seems to be visiting on us more often than not.  Swimming is a "preferred activity" as they say and even though we have small bouts of unhappy they tend to come and go quickly as redirection is easy in a playground full of water.

Miles loves to be up ON things, riding around. Maybe he's playing that he's the king. I'm not sure but he loves it, and will ask for it. The manta ray has been a big hit this summer.

Maybe sometimes you just need to lay around in the pool and BE. We spent a couple of hours and alternated between playing and just all six of us floating around, staring up at the trees, and realizing how lucky we are to have a pool at all.

It had been my secret motherly hope that being in the pool for a couple of hours or more would tire them out. We've reached that point in the summer where no one finds it necessary to go to sleep. At about 1 am last night I realized I had not achieved my goal.

There is only one cure for this level of sleep schedule nutfuckery, and that's SCHOOL. It's coming, in two weeks we'll cart these little boogers off to the big yellow bus and they'll be hating life for a few days but HEY Mommy and Daddy will get some damn sleep finally.

But until then we'll keep doing the summer things until the days are gone. I wish I had the means to heat this pool, because it's so amazing for the twins (hell for us too). But I'm glad for the days we get in it.

I chose this as my grilling accoutrement and I am glad to report that it didn't kill my stomach WHICH is some sort of damned miracle.

Swimming pool, grilling out, having a beer, this was almost a normal Saturday.

What a rare treat around these parts.
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The Afternoon Has Gently Passed Me By

Our pool has become the respite from the anxiety/stress/tantrums that Autism seems to be visiting on us more often than not.  Swimming is a "preferred activity" as they say and even though we have small bouts of unhappy they tend to come and go quickly as redirection is easy in a playground full of water.

Miles loves to be up ON things, riding around. Maybe he's playing that he's the king. I'm not sure but he loves it, and will ask for it. The manta ray has been a big hit this summer.

Maybe sometimes you just need to lay around in the pool and BE. We spent a couple of hours and alternated between playing and just all six of us floating around, staring up at the trees, and realizing how lucky we are to have a pool at all.

It had been my secret motherly hope that being in the pool for a couple of hours or more would tire them out. We've reached that point in the summer where no one finds it necessary to go to sleep. At about 1 am last night I realized I had not achieved my goal.

There is only one cure for this level of sleep schedule nutfuckery, and that's SCHOOL. It's coming, in two weeks we'll cart these little boogers off to the big yellow bus and they'll be hating life for a few days but HEY Mommy and Daddy will get some damn sleep finally.

But until then we'll keep doing the summer things until the days are gone. I wish I had the means to heat this pool, because it's so amazing for the twins (hell for us too). But I'm glad for the days we get in it.

I chose this as my grilling accoutrement and I am glad to report that it didn't kill my stomach WHICH is some sort of damned miracle.

Swimming pool, grilling out, having a beer, this was almost a normal Saturday.

What a rare treat around these parts.
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The More Things Change

Weekend mornings have started "about" the same way every weekend as long as my memory goes. I wake up to the sound of the twins needing something. If there was a baby in the house, it was the sound of a baby needing something. Sometimes, just "sometimes" I get up before anyone else, and there is quiet before people start summoning me to meet their needs.

The past two mornings though, I've awoken to a muffled noise, talking, murmuring and just - rustling about.

I walk down the hall, and Miles is on the computer watching Sesame Street of playing Sesame Street online games, and Charlie is draped across a chair, watching Thomas. They're both content, relaxed, and no one is screaming.

They've learned, at the age of ten, that they can wake up and not scream & carry on for attention. They can in fact, and have been known to, come in to my room and say "GET UP PLEASE". But suddenly they're just content hanging out, they seem to be seeking their own quiet time, comfortable knowing it won't be long until I stumble down the hall wondering what I am hearing.

A couple of hours in the pool yesterday and more planned for today, as it's 100 AGAIN, I had expected everyone to sleep in and enjoy the rest myself. But they were in the computer room again, comfortably entertaining themselves.

It feels like, as summer closes with one last blast of heat from her oven, that we've hit a change that's positive. I am as excited by this silly independence the twins are showing, as I am of Julia being brave enough to jump into the pool, or Louis really starting to learn to swim. (Yes he's late I know).

Comfort comes from strange places.

But at least it comes.

At least it comes.
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The More Things Change

Weekend mornings have started "about" the same way every weekend as long as my memory goes. I wake up to the sound of the twins needing something. If there was a baby in the house, it was the sound of a baby needing something. Sometimes, just "sometimes" I get up before anyone else, and there is quiet before people start summoning me to meet their needs.

The past two mornings though, I've awoken to a muffled noise, talking, murmuring and just - rustling about.

I walk down the hall, and Miles is on the computer watching Sesame Street of playing Sesame Street online games, and Charlie is draped across a chair, watching Thomas. They're both content, relaxed, and no one is screaming.

They've learned, at the age of ten, that they can wake up and not scream & carry on for attention. They can in fact, and have been known to, come in to my room and say "GET UP PLEASE". But suddenly they're just content hanging out, they seem to be seeking their own quiet time, comfortable knowing it won't be long until I stumble down the hall wondering what I am hearing.

A couple of hours in the pool yesterday and more planned for today, as it's 100 AGAIN, I had expected everyone to sleep in and enjoy the rest myself. But they were in the computer room again, comfortably entertaining themselves.

It feels like, as summer closes with one last blast of heat from her oven, that we've hit a change that's positive. I am as excited by this silly independence the twins are showing, as I am of Julia being brave enough to jump into the pool, or Louis really starting to learn to swim. (Yes he's late I know).

Comfort comes from strange places.

But at least it comes.

At least it comes.
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The Ingredients of a Perfect Day

The first thing that happens on a perfect day is that I wake up and realize my underwear is cutting into me, and that I need to pee. It's a Sunday and it's not even 7 am so that's about right. I decide to creep down the creeky stairs, make a cup and either watch something on Netflix (see previous addiction information) or play video games. Regardless, whatever I do, I'm going to do it alone and in silence.

I'm still tasting the pleasure that comes from such an idea, while stirring in the raw sugar into my coffee, when I hear footsteps. FOILED. Someone is up. I add creamer and turn, to see three children coming down the hallway. It's now 7:15. And my plans just changed.

They drink all of my coffee before I get a sip or two. I make another cup, and another. Each time short bandits make off with it. After that, I spend my morning dealing with the fact that no one likes the sugar filled cereal they chose and only want each other's food for breakfast.

But not the part of each other's food that is this cereal.

Then we've got the potty training. And while he's mastered the peeing, the pooping in the pants is getting old. And tiresome. And let's just say it, it's gross as hell. If I were made of money all poop filled underwear would go in the trash. But I'm not. So, it's gross. Props to my husband who does almost all the recovery effort on those.

Lunch happens on a perfect day with minimal drama. It's a rare moment and that adds into the perfect equation. But what really happens on a perfect day is that the sun shines and the pool is ready for the tiny humans.

It was a bit cold and once again storms were threatening but it didn't really matter. The water is inviting and even a silly old above the ground pool is a recipe for more fun that you can shake a stick at. I swam laps to feel like I actually did something fitness related and good for my knee, and I floated around like I was queen of the Georgia Pines.

When I look up at the sky, I decide that maybe I am. I have to admit, it feels pretty darn good.

When we get inside the thunder rolls and the sky opens up. Perfect timing, and we head up into the giant bathtub to wash off chemicals and to get clean & shiny for school tomorrow.

Perfect day? Yes, that's a perfect day.

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The Ingredients of a Perfect Day

The first thing that happens on a perfect day is that I wake up and realize my underwear is cutting into me, and that I need to pee. It's a Sunday and it's not even 7 am so that's about right. I decide to creep down the creeky stairs, make a cup and either watch something on Netflix (see previous addiction information) or play video games. Regardless, whatever I do, I'm going to do it alone and in silence.

I'm still tasting the pleasure that comes from such an idea, while stirring in the raw sugar into my coffee, when I hear footsteps. FOILED. Someone is up. I add creamer and turn, to see three children coming down the hallway. It's now 7:15. And my plans just changed.

They drink all of my coffee before I get a sip or two. I make another cup, and another. Each time short bandits make off with it. After that, I spend my morning dealing with the fact that no one likes the sugar filled cereal they chose and only want each other's food for breakfast.

But not the part of each other's food that is this cereal.

Then we've got the potty training. And while he's mastered the peeing, the pooping in the pants is getting old. And tiresome. And let's just say it, it's gross as hell. If I were made of money all poop filled underwear would go in the trash. But I'm not. So, it's gross. Props to my husband who does almost all the recovery effort on those.

Lunch happens on a perfect day with minimal drama. It's a rare moment and that adds into the perfect equation. But what really happens on a perfect day is that the sun shines and the pool is ready for the tiny humans.

It was a bit cold and once again storms were threatening but it didn't really matter. The water is inviting and even a silly old above the ground pool is a recipe for more fun that you can shake a stick at. I swam laps to feel like I actually did something fitness related and good for my knee, and I floated around like I was queen of the Georgia Pines.

When I look up at the sky, I decide that maybe I am. I have to admit, it feels pretty darn good.

When we get inside the thunder rolls and the sky opens up. Perfect timing, and we head up into the giant bathtub to wash off chemicals and to get clean & shiny for school tomorrow.

Perfect day? Yes, that's a perfect day.

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13,000 Gallons of Fun

There are people who will tell you that owning a pool is a pain in the ass. They'll say it's more trouble than it's worth. They'll say it's so expensive you won't believe it.

Those people? They're damn right.

Our pool has been broken in some way or shape for at least two years. After a summer of tinkering, fixing this, fixing that, countless hours of Louis and the husband standing in muck around the pool trying to get this or that to work, YESTERDAY we christened our pool.

As storms loomed from the west.

The thing is though, once it's working, it's a magical playground that's the best thing anyone ever did. Even on a day that's not so hot and has grey clouds gathering. It's fun.

We got out every floatie we had, and after a while even Julia was having enough fun to let go of someone. "I've got this Mom! I've got this!" she declared. Everyone else made circles or laps, letting the cool, chlorinated magic roll over us.

We have our pool back.

And since it's Atlanta we should have at least another month if not more of swimming weather.

I'm super excited!
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13,000 Gallons of Fun

There are people who will tell you that owning a pool is a pain in the ass. They'll say it's more trouble than it's worth. They'll say it's so expensive you won't believe it.

Those people? They're damn right.

Our pool has been broken in some way or shape for at least two years. After a summer of tinkering, fixing this, fixing that, countless hours of Louis and the husband standing in muck around the pool trying to get this or that to work, YESTERDAY we christened our pool.

As storms loomed from the west.

The thing is though, once it's working, it's a magical playground that's the best thing anyone ever did. Even on a day that's not so hot and has grey clouds gathering. It's fun.

We got out every floatie we had, and after a while even Julia was having enough fun to let go of someone. "I've got this Mom! I've got this!" she declared. Everyone else made circles or laps, letting the cool, chlorinated magic roll over us.

We have our pool back.

And since it's Atlanta we should have at least another month if not more of swimming weather.

I'm super excited!
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3 Years Later

We celebrated 3 years in our house with a family swim in our pool the other night.

We didn't know what the hell we were doing. We bought a house. I didn't have a job. He didn't have a job. We had two special needs kids. But we signed on the dotted line. Because we believed we'd figure it out.

There was no little girl nor one on the horizon.

As we swam under the looming Georgia pines of our forest, I couldn't really help but think, this really IS our house. This is the one we were supposed to have.

I like it here, despite myself.

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3 Years Later

We celebrated 3 years in our house with a family swim in our pool the other night.

We didn't know what the hell we were doing. We bought a house. I didn't have a job. He didn't have a job. We had two special needs kids. But we signed on the dotted line. Because we believed we'd figure it out.

There was no little girl nor one on the horizon.

As we swam under the looming Georgia pines of our forest, I couldn't really help but think, this really IS our house. This is the one we were supposed to have.

I like it here, despite myself.

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