Caught Between The Scylla and Charybdis

Lately it feels like it's a nonstop conversation about which of our parents is in the hospital, between my brother and I. Now it's Mom, again to have fluid drained out of her, again to have batteries of tests. She was weak and unwell again, so back in to the IU Med center she went. Liver failure is one hell of a thing.

My mom is trying to get on the transplant list, and I'm cautiously hopeful it can happen. When they've had her in the hospital and gotten her drained, she sounds like herself, like my mom. When she sounds like my mom, relief washes over me. Things are better. I continue to hope.

My dad though, my dad is a different story. If liver failure is one hell of a thing, dementia is it's drunk, bastard uncle. He can be belligerent. He can be childlike. He's sad a lot. He almost seems to be in a fog, I wish I knew what was in that fog with him. I'm hoping it's not despair and loneliness. I talk to him nearly daily, probably every three days is the longest stretch I ever go unless he's in the hospital. Add to it a host of medical problems of varied, nebulous nature. It's not a good combination.

Our conversations are often very short, but usually I can engage him in at least one or two real things. He likes to hear about my kids, and I tell him the simplest version of whatever we are talking about as he struggles with his attention span. He asks me about my pool. He is enamored of the fact that my brother and I both have a pool, this was always a dream of his. He asks me if I am traveling, he likes to hear about where I am. I tell him if we are doing anything special. I tell him happy things.

Today I talked to him about Mom being in the hospital, and I assured him I had JUST talked to her and she sounds great. I tell him they drained a liter off her lung and she feels much better. He agrees that this is good, but his voice is weak, distant. I ask him how he is today, and he says "I'm pretty far down." I ask if anything is going on that's wrong and he says no. I tell him I have a flight to come home next Friday and I will be coming to see him, and he says "Ok we'll see if I have time."

Ominous portent or dementia? Or both?

I'm glad I made up with my dad. Over five years ago we had a terrible confrontation. I realize now that even then, dementia was taking hold of him, as he was irrational. He had told me I was dead to him, my children weren't his grandchildren and other sundry, horrible things that no parent should ever say to their child. It was so crazy that I was terrified for my mother at that time. That was his response to being asked not to say racist stuff. That was actually the second time we'd had that SAME confrontation with him, and each time after being asked not to say racist stuff he would explode in this absolutely insane rage, exploding with hatefulness at me and kicking me out of my own family.

I forgive him because as I look back, and see how irrational it all was, I see it as steps on the path to where we are now. I forgive him because when I was little he took me to ride my Big Wheel at the college where they had huge long sidewalks. I forgive him because when I was 5 and inside the Jaycee's Haunted house, I became afraid and went and hid - and they had to shut it down and send my dad inside to fetch me - and he did & wasn't mad. I forgive him because he would go on Brownie day trips with us, and sing "Hang Down Your Head Tom Dooley" loudly in the back of the bus. I forgive him because he was the President of the PTA, and made sure we got new playground equipment. I forgive him because he punched a guy in the face who called my grandpa a crook the week after he died. I forgive him because he's the one who told me our baby died, and he's the one who told me my grandpa died, and he's the one who told me Grandma Daisy died. I forgive him because my entire life he felt bad that he didn't let me go see Shawn Cassidy when I was six like I really really really wanted to.

I forgive him because he's my dad. I forgive him because children of alcoholics accept the unacceptable,but also mostly just because he's my dad.

So I'm gonna fly home next Friday. I hope he's got time on his calendar to see me.


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Caught Between The Scylla and Charybdis

Lately it feels like it's a nonstop conversation about which of our parents is in the hospital, between my brother and I. Now it's Mom, again to have fluid drained out of her, again to have batteries of tests. She was weak and unwell again, so back in to the IU Med center she went. Liver failure is one hell of a thing.

My mom is trying to get on the transplant list, and I'm cautiously hopeful it can happen. When they've had her in the hospital and gotten her drained, she sounds like herself, like my mom. When she sounds like my mom, relief washes over me. Things are better. I continue to hope.

My dad though, my dad is a different story. If liver failure is one hell of a thing, dementia is it's drunk, bastard uncle. He can be belligerent. He can be childlike. He's sad a lot. He almost seems to be in a fog, I wish I knew what was in that fog with him. I'm hoping it's not despair and loneliness. I talk to him nearly daily, probably every three days is the longest stretch I ever go unless he's in the hospital. Add to it a host of medical problems of varied, nebulous nature. It's not a good combination.

Our conversations are often very short, but usually I can engage him in at least one or two real things. He likes to hear about my kids, and I tell him the simplest version of whatever we are talking about as he struggles with his attention span. He asks me about my pool. He is enamored of the fact that my brother and I both have a pool, this was always a dream of his. He asks me if I am traveling, he likes to hear about where I am. I tell him if we are doing anything special. I tell him happy things.

Today I talked to him about Mom being in the hospital, and I assured him I had JUST talked to her and she sounds great. I tell him they drained a liter off her lung and she feels much better. He agrees that this is good, but his voice is weak, distant. I ask him how he is today, and he says "I'm pretty far down." I ask if anything is going on that's wrong and he says no. I tell him I have a flight to come home next Friday and I will be coming to see him, and he says "Ok we'll see if I have time."

Ominous portent or dementia? Or both?

I'm glad I made up with my dad. Over five years ago we had a terrible confrontation. I realize now that even then, dementia was taking hold of him, as he was irrational. He had told me I was dead to him, my children weren't his grandchildren and other sundry, horrible things that no parent should ever say to their child. It was so crazy that I was terrified for my mother at that time. That was his response to being asked not to say racist stuff. That was actually the second time we'd had that SAME confrontation with him, and each time after being asked not to say racist stuff he would explode in this absolutely insane rage, exploding with hatefulness at me and kicking me out of my own family.

I forgive him because as I look back, and see how irrational it all was, I see it as steps on the path to where we are now. I forgive him because when I was little he took me to ride my Big Wheel at the college where they had huge long sidewalks. I forgive him because when I was 5 and inside the Jaycee's Haunted house, I became afraid and went and hid - and they had to shut it down and send my dad inside to fetch me - and he did & wasn't mad. I forgive him because he would go on Brownie day trips with us, and sing "Hang Down Your Head Tom Dooley" loudly in the back of the bus. I forgive him because he was the President of the PTA, and made sure we got new playground equipment. I forgive him because he punched a guy in the face who called my grandpa a crook the week after he died. I forgive him because he's the one who told me our baby died, and he's the one who told me my grandpa died, and he's the one who told me Grandma Daisy died. I forgive him because my entire life he felt bad that he didn't let me go see Shawn Cassidy when I was six like I really really really wanted to.

I forgive him because he's my dad. I forgive him because children of alcoholics accept the unacceptable,but also mostly just because he's my dad.

So I'm gonna fly home next Friday. I hope he's got time on his calendar to see me.


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Someone To Talk To

I think Charlie doesn't like that he has to share me with everyone else in the morning. The past few years Charlie has gotten up first, and he and I have had our early AM together alone, no one else had to wake up until after his bus left.

Now all three kids wake up at the same time, so Charlie has taken to getting up JUST a bit before the rest of them. I'm not sure if he's just an early riser, light sleeper, or he wants his alone minutes.

He still comes in to the bedroom where I am seated on the edge of the bed and climbs onto my lap like he's a very little boy, wrapping his arms and legs around me. He rests his head on my shoulder and almost goes limp like a baby, snuggling close.

"Good morning, Charlie," I whisper in his ear and kiss his cheek.
"HI" he answers and squeezes me. "Mwah" he makes the kiss sound near me. That's my kiss this time. "I luh you." That means he loves me.

"Do you want to go have fun at school today?" I ask him.

"Yeah," he answers.

"Then let's get dressed!" I gently nudge him off my lap.

"OKAY!" he says excitedly.

That's an extensive, and in depth conversation with my Charlie.  Charlie will answer some questions correctly very consistently. Charlie will also answer some question with "TICKLE!" so you never know what you're going to get.

But this morning, we had a talk. He always is a little bit happier when he's communicated with me. And I admit that as a mom, I'm happy when my 11 year old tells me he loves me.

Love is a hard concept to teach - not the kind of love you show, but that the love you show = that word LOVE. I do love them of course, but I wasn't ever sure they'd understand "I love you" as a concept. There are a  lot of days when you just feel like the autism zoo keeper - that you exist just to meet their demands and life requirements. It was an unspoken dream of mine, to hear them say they loved me, not as a mimic, but as something they said intentionally and with meaning.

One of the things I did for years and years was when I was cuddling them, I'd whisper "I love you, I love you SO MUCH" and squeeze them tight. I wanted them to associate that feeling, the physical cuddling with love. It felt like the best way to express it, to give them a physical association, one that was positive and snuggly and was a happy thing.

I wondered for a long time whether they would ever get it, whether "I love you" would ever be anything but some words they could say. Last week after our long, hot day at Noah's Ark we were putting on pajamas and I was recapping the day with Miles.

"Did you see animals today?" I asked.

"Animals," he answered.

"Did you see tigers?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't just repeat.

"Tigers," he answered.

I pulled his pajama shirt on over his head and held his gaze for a moment. "Miles, did you have fun today?"

At that point he smiled, kissed me and said "I love you" and squeezed me hard.

I think he gets it. I think they both get it.

And I think Miles really liked Noah's Ark.
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Someone To Talk To

I think Charlie doesn't like that he has to share me with everyone else in the morning. The past few years Charlie has gotten up first, and he and I have had our early AM together alone, no one else had to wake up until after his bus left.

Now all three kids wake up at the same time, so Charlie has taken to getting up JUST a bit before the rest of them. I'm not sure if he's just an early riser, light sleeper, or he wants his alone minutes.

He still comes in to the bedroom where I am seated on the edge of the bed and climbs onto my lap like he's a very little boy, wrapping his arms and legs around me. He rests his head on my shoulder and almost goes limp like a baby, snuggling close.

"Good morning, Charlie," I whisper in his ear and kiss his cheek.
"HI" he answers and squeezes me. "Mwah" he makes the kiss sound near me. That's my kiss this time. "I luh you." That means he loves me.

"Do you want to go have fun at school today?" I ask him.

"Yeah," he answers.

"Then let's get dressed!" I gently nudge him off my lap.

"OKAY!" he says excitedly.

That's an extensive, and in depth conversation with my Charlie.  Charlie will answer some questions correctly very consistently. Charlie will also answer some question with "TICKLE!" so you never know what you're going to get.

But this morning, we had a talk. He always is a little bit happier when he's communicated with me. And I admit that as a mom, I'm happy when my 11 year old tells me he loves me.

Love is a hard concept to teach - not the kind of love you show, but that the love you show = that word LOVE. I do love them of course, but I wasn't ever sure they'd understand "I love you" as a concept. There are a  lot of days when you just feel like the autism zoo keeper - that you exist just to meet their demands and life requirements. It was an unspoken dream of mine, to hear them say they loved me, not as a mimic, but as something they said intentionally and with meaning.

One of the things I did for years and years was when I was cuddling them, I'd whisper "I love you, I love you SO MUCH" and squeeze them tight. I wanted them to associate that feeling, the physical cuddling with love. It felt like the best way to express it, to give them a physical association, one that was positive and snuggly and was a happy thing.

I wondered for a long time whether they would ever get it, whether "I love you" would ever be anything but some words they could say. Last week after our long, hot day at Noah's Ark we were putting on pajamas and I was recapping the day with Miles.

"Did you see animals today?" I asked.

"Animals," he answered.

"Did you see tigers?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't just repeat.

"Tigers," he answered.

I pulled his pajama shirt on over his head and held his gaze for a moment. "Miles, did you have fun today?"

At that point he smiled, kissed me and said "I love you" and squeezed me hard.

I think he gets it. I think they both get it.

And I think Miles really liked Noah's Ark.
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Sleep Lay Behind Me Like a Broken Ocean

It's 5:19 am and I've been awake for more than an hour. Traditionally I go to sleep fast. I can wake up ten times a night and then immediately roll over and be back to sleep in nothing flat. Often I don't recall that I've awoken. Not tonight.

First I realize I'm in the grips of aches and pains. I ache. I pain. No position is comfortable except flat on my back and I don't want to sleep on my back I am a side sleeper. Then I keep drifting into almost dreams, that are more like thoughts but you realize you are awake quickly and make note that

• Louis is never allowed to base jump
• Strangers need to stop asking to hug and or hold Julia
• I need to weed the front garden
• Most of my clothes don't fit me
• I need to clean my desk
• and so on and so forth

About 10 minutes ago I realized that in addition to my brain being in overdrive, I'm STARVING. I'm straight up hungry as hell. I have no reason to be hungry as hell. I ate about 1800 calories yesterday. But I'm ravenous. So I've given myself two Viactive chews and some almond milk, and now I'm having a coffee. I would have fed myself but omg it's five am I can't make food right now. I can barely sit up.

I'm tired you see. I'm legitimately tired as hell.

But my brain, my brain won't stop. I'm so busy at work. It's another full calendar day. But I think that one meeting is wrong so YAY I just gained and hour shhhh don't tell anyone. I have so much to do, I don't know how to even get it done.

I'm worried about my dad. My father is failing. I'm trying to get home to see him, before he's so far gone that it doesn't matter. I've wondered repeatedly if he's died, in the past hour, and that this is why I'm awake. Maybe some universal energy woke me up to say YOUR FATHER IS DEAD. I wonder if my brother would call me at 4 am, or just let me sleep knowing that there is nothing to gain from waking me up? I don't know which I would prefer. 

I used to get insomnia the night before I got my period. But I haven't HAD a period in years now thanks to the endometrium ablation I had. However we've learned that while they used to think they are 100% effective - like when I had mine, now they know that they aren't. Am I getting my period? This thought annoys me and makes me more awake. I remember that stupid internet tests I keep taking keep suggesting I am having a baby in the next year. I have to remind myself I had my tubes tied. I'm worried that the internet is self aware, and has powers of precognition.

Maybe it's the coffee I had at Marlowe's tavern last night with the twins club mom's night out. I'm awake. I'm SO SO SO SO FUCKING AWAKE. But I went to sleep just fine. So no, that can't be it.

Of course now I've had coffee, so that's probably why I'm so damn sharp and awake right now.

Now Charlie is up, because I'm a loud typist. I think that comes from having learned to type on a typewriter back when you had to hit the keys like you meant it. I strike the keys with intention, consequently I am probably annoying five others right now.

It feels like the right thing to do, to have stop being frustrated and just get the hell up, however. Mentally the angst of desperately wanting sleep is slipping away. It's just sleep, I'll get some tonight. If I feel like I can't sleep I'll take a benadryl or something. 

This is my insomnia face. 

I'm not smiling, because I am damned tired.

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Sleep Lay Behind Me Like a Broken Ocean

It's 5:19 am and I've been awake for more than an hour. Traditionally I go to sleep fast. I can wake up ten times a night and then immediately roll over and be back to sleep in nothing flat. Often I don't recall that I've awoken. Not tonight.

First I realize I'm in the grips of aches and pains. I ache. I pain. No position is comfortable except flat on my back and I don't want to sleep on my back I am a side sleeper. Then I keep drifting into almost dreams, that are more like thoughts but you realize you are awake quickly and make note that

• Louis is never allowed to base jump
• Strangers need to stop asking to hug and or hold Julia
• I need to weed the front garden
• Most of my clothes don't fit me
• I need to clean my desk
• and so on and so forth

About 10 minutes ago I realized that in addition to my brain being in overdrive, I'm STARVING. I'm straight up hungry as hell. I have no reason to be hungry as hell. I ate about 1800 calories yesterday. But I'm ravenous. So I've given myself two Viactive chews and some almond milk, and now I'm having a coffee. I would have fed myself but omg it's five am I can't make food right now. I can barely sit up.

I'm tired you see. I'm legitimately tired as hell.

But my brain, my brain won't stop. I'm so busy at work. It's another full calendar day. But I think that one meeting is wrong so YAY I just gained and hour shhhh don't tell anyone. I have so much to do, I don't know how to even get it done.

I'm worried about my dad. My father is failing. I'm trying to get home to see him, before he's so far gone that it doesn't matter. I've wondered repeatedly if he's died, in the past hour, and that this is why I'm awake. Maybe some universal energy woke me up to say YOUR FATHER IS DEAD. I wonder if my brother would call me at 4 am, or just let me sleep knowing that there is nothing to gain from waking me up? I don't know which I would prefer. 

I used to get insomnia the night before I got my period. But I haven't HAD a period in years now thanks to the endometrium ablation I had. However we've learned that while they used to think they are 100% effective - like when I had mine, now they know that they aren't. Am I getting my period? This thought annoys me and makes me more awake. I remember that stupid internet tests I keep taking keep suggesting I am having a baby in the next year. I have to remind myself I had my tubes tied. I'm worried that the internet is self aware, and has powers of precognition.

Maybe it's the coffee I had at Marlowe's tavern last night with the twins club mom's night out. I'm awake. I'm SO SO SO SO FUCKING AWAKE. But I went to sleep just fine. So no, that can't be it.

Of course now I've had coffee, so that's probably why I'm so damn sharp and awake right now.

Now Charlie is up, because I'm a loud typist. I think that comes from having learned to type on a typewriter back when you had to hit the keys like you meant it. I strike the keys with intention, consequently I am probably annoying five others right now.

It feels like the right thing to do, to have stop being frustrated and just get the hell up, however. Mentally the angst of desperately wanting sleep is slipping away. It's just sleep, I'll get some tonight. If I feel like I can't sleep I'll take a benadryl or something. 

This is my insomnia face. 

I'm not smiling, because I am damned tired.

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On Any Other Day

Yesterday was a milestone x3 and the first day of school around here. I'm up early at 0'Dark Hundred because due to said milestone, I didn't get one single free "me" moment yesterday and if I don't get some silence I go crazy.

This is me attempting sanity by creating sleep deprivation. Don't try to understand it.

Our biggest event yesterday was Julia's very first day of school. Kindergarten beware, she is in you. She tells me she went to the wrong room while showing her friend where to go. She tells me this confidently, she was leading the way, got lost but hey no problem because a nice teacher helped her. She tells me she "did learning" but can't seem to quite tell me what she learned except the bumblebee song.

I was so proud of her yesterday morning. What I wanted was for her to be confident and walk away from us without a hesitation. I wanted her to head off into the world in a way that showed me we'd done it right, despite the fact that we realized we've never let her use scissors in all this time, I wanted to see that the PERSON she is can handle the world I'd just sent her into.

She didn't disappoint. The bus pulled up and she didn't even say goodbye. She turned and walked away, only casting one look back at her friend like "Why aren't you coming?" while her friend hugged her mom again. She got on the bus like a boss, and like that she was gone, into new independence and freedom. Into a world where she got lost and didn't even blink.

THAT'S what I wanted.

Not to be completely overshadowed, it was the twins first day of sixth grade. We got a reprieve from school system chaos and both boys are in the same school this year (although not the same one as Louis). They are on the same bus so that's only ONE thing for me to deal with YAY.

They are in separate classes and I really like both of their teachers. Both boys are in for three years of being challenged to grow and I find that exciting. Charlie was doing potty training day one - and Miles brought home a work sheet that he WROTE the answers on himself. They seemed very happy but tired yesterday. We hardly had ANY fighting.

As for my big boy, my Louis, my first baby? Well he's in 7th grade and while he's just as excited as we are taking pictures and videos of the little ones going to school, when it's his turn you know he's too cool for all of that. SO MUCH TOO COOL FOR IT. When we went to his bus stop he says "WHAT You're COMING TO THE BUS STOP?" and we were like yep, get over it. We're ALWAYS COMING TO YOUR BUS STOP ON DAY ONE.

My husband suggested if he didn't like it, he cold come to school to follow him around on his first day. I think he decided to roll with us being at the bus stop.

So now we're on day two, and I'm sitting at the computer rather than getting ready like I should. I think I've got a plan however, for getting them ready and out the door starting in 28 minutes. First bus is at 7:50, then there is one at 8:15 then Louis has to leave right then to head to HIS bus stop and then I'm off to work.

I'm kind of glad school is back. I'm ready for this next chapter of adventure.

Goodbye summer.
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On Any Other Day

Yesterday was a milestone x3 and the first day of school around here. I'm up early at 0'Dark Hundred because due to said milestone, I didn't get one single free "me" moment yesterday and if I don't get some silence I go crazy.

This is me attempting sanity by creating sleep deprivation. Don't try to understand it.

Our biggest event yesterday was Julia's very first day of school. Kindergarten beware, she is in you. She tells me she went to the wrong room while showing her friend where to go. She tells me this confidently, she was leading the way, got lost but hey no problem because a nice teacher helped her. She tells me she "did learning" but can't seem to quite tell me what she learned except the bumblebee song.

I was so proud of her yesterday morning. What I wanted was for her to be confident and walk away from us without a hesitation. I wanted her to head off into the world in a way that showed me we'd done it right, despite the fact that we realized we've never let her use scissors in all this time, I wanted to see that the PERSON she is can handle the world I'd just sent her into.

She didn't disappoint. The bus pulled up and she didn't even say goodbye. She turned and walked away, only casting one look back at her friend like "Why aren't you coming?" while her friend hugged her mom again. She got on the bus like a boss, and like that she was gone, into new independence and freedom. Into a world where she got lost and didn't even blink.

THAT'S what I wanted.

Not to be completely overshadowed, it was the twins first day of sixth grade. We got a reprieve from school system chaos and both boys are in the same school this year (although not the same one as Louis). They are on the same bus so that's only ONE thing for me to deal with YAY.

They are in separate classes and I really like both of their teachers. Both boys are in for three years of being challenged to grow and I find that exciting. Charlie was doing potty training day one - and Miles brought home a work sheet that he WROTE the answers on himself. They seemed very happy but tired yesterday. We hardly had ANY fighting.

As for my big boy, my Louis, my first baby? Well he's in 7th grade and while he's just as excited as we are taking pictures and videos of the little ones going to school, when it's his turn you know he's too cool for all of that. SO MUCH TOO COOL FOR IT. When we went to his bus stop he says "WHAT You're COMING TO THE BUS STOP?" and we were like yep, get over it. We're ALWAYS COMING TO YOUR BUS STOP ON DAY ONE.

My husband suggested if he didn't like it, he cold come to school to follow him around on his first day. I think he decided to roll with us being at the bus stop.

So now we're on day two, and I'm sitting at the computer rather than getting ready like I should. I think I've got a plan however, for getting them ready and out the door starting in 28 minutes. First bus is at 7:50, then there is one at 8:15 then Louis has to leave right then to head to HIS bus stop and then I'm off to work.

I'm kind of glad school is back. I'm ready for this next chapter of adventure.

Goodbye summer.
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Walking In Your Footsteps

There is a place south of us that Louis has wanted to go to for YEARS. He saw a show about it, or read about it, or something - I don't even remember. All I know is the remnants of the story as he told it, a bear, lion and tiger were seized as cubs from a drug dealer. They had been raised together, and were best friends. They were called the BLT, and had been moved to a refuge called NOAH'S ARK. 

They all three still live together, best friends forever. I couldn't get a good picture of the three of them because it was Africa hot, and all three were seeking shade. Shere Khan was wasn't anywhere to be seen, I think she was in her playhouse. 

Baloo was accommodating in that he chose to nap up next to the fence. 

Leo however, well, I wish I had a picture. We were scanning the enclosure, thinking "Ok were is the damn lion" when suddenly I saw what looked like a sofa up on the porch of their playhouse (yes, they HAVE a playhouse). As my eyes came into focus I realized what I was seeing - literally the BIGGEST cat I have ever seen in my life. All I could see was the back and haunches as it was naptime for the lion as well, but this was a massive animal. 

I grabbed an adorable picture of the three of them off the refuge's website.

This photo does not doe justice to the size of that lion. It's an AMAZING animal.  I still kind of love that they live together and still love each other. I thought perhaps they would live NEAR one another, not still together as adults.

The entire place was amazing. It's free, so I was expecting one enclosure for the BLT and maybe a few small animals to pet. No. This place is massive, like a zoo - but did I mention FREE. People have donated large animals they couldn't care for (and shouldn't have had) and they have accepted animals from drug raids besides the BLT. 

I was really impressed by their enclosures also - there were really roomy for a place run on donations - very impressive.

This is just part of an enclosure - it expands out quite far. There is a huge tiger in there. Not Shere Khan alas but a huge tiger regardless. He has a friend in there to hang out with, and both seemed very content.

This is a gorgeous white tiger relaxing next to some chickens that have been left behind for it to eat. There was a big information sign about how terrible it is to breed white tigers because due to their inbreeding they have tons of health problems and often many deformities - and the "bad" ones are often just killed. 

Ugh - Siegfried and Roy I blame you. 

There were more peacocks roaming the grounds of this place than the sum total of peacocks I have ever seen in my life. It was also a fun time to get to remind Louis that he used to be terrified of them, and taunt him accordingly. I'm an awesome parent, yo.

In addition to the serious number of dangerous carnivores who call the place home, there were lots of other animals, emu and ostrich, goats, cows, miniature horses, and so on, for us to pet and say hello to. 

The heat was miserable but the animals were fun and awesome to see. 

Eventually the heat was too much for these six humans, it was close to 100 and we were all dying of too hot so we decided to head back inside and have some AC and see the indoors animals. Julia declared this statue at the door a "spider dog".

I asked her why it's a spider dog and she said "JUST LOOK AT IT MOM!"

Ok then.

The indoors smelled so bad it barely made the AC worth it. I don't know what smells, these tiny furry creatures or something else. It was like a massive sewer back up, in hell. It was vile and we only lasted a little bit inside then we headed out to the next part of our adventure for the day.

There is a huge picnic area that stays open later than the rest of the park and we made our way over there, laden with picnic basket and cooler packed full of goodies in secret by Daddy!

But before we opened the basked of goodies - the snow cone vendor was accepting one last customer - US. OH god is anything better than a snow cone on a day were the heat is almost 100? NO. Nothing is better.

We thanked her profusely and took our treasures back to the table to feast upon the sugary ice and drop our internal body temperatures. Thank you snow cone lady, we were so very, very hot.

Our picnic was an assortment of crackers, cheese, fruit and meat and everyone dove in like it was a feast. What is it about a picnic that makes simple things like pepperoni feel like a major treat?

It was our end of summer send off, as today we'll be preparing for the big day tomorrow. Back to school, twins go to Middle School, and Julia starts school. I can't believe summer is over but I think we all need to get back to a schedule and a more normal life. 

I'm really glad Louis asked us every weekend forever about going to this place. It was really worth the 90 minute drive. It was a great family day together. 

And now, time to get ready to start school. 

Walking In Your Footsteps

There is a place south of us that Louis has wanted to go to for YEARS. He saw a show about it, or read about it, or something - I don't even remember. All I know is the remnants of the story as he told it, a bear, lion and tiger were seized as cubs from a drug dealer. They had been raised together, and were best friends. They were called the BLT, and had been moved to a refuge called NOAH'S ARK. 

They all three still live together, best friends forever. I couldn't get a good picture of the three of them because it was Africa hot, and all three were seeking shade. Shere Khan was wasn't anywhere to be seen, I think she was in her playhouse. 

Baloo was accommodating in that he chose to nap up next to the fence. 

Leo however, well, I wish I had a picture. We were scanning the enclosure, thinking "Ok were is the damn lion" when suddenly I saw what looked like a sofa up on the porch of their playhouse (yes, they HAVE a playhouse). As my eyes came into focus I realized what I was seeing - literally the BIGGEST cat I have ever seen in my life. All I could see was the back and haunches as it was naptime for the lion as well, but this was a massive animal. 

I grabbed an adorable picture of the three of them off the refuge's website.

This photo does not doe justice to the size of that lion. It's an AMAZING animal.  I still kind of love that they live together and still love each other. I thought perhaps they would live NEAR one another, not still together as adults.

The entire place was amazing. It's free, so I was expecting one enclosure for the BLT and maybe a few small animals to pet. No. This place is massive, like a zoo - but did I mention FREE. People have donated large animals they couldn't care for (and shouldn't have had) and they have accepted animals from drug raids besides the BLT. 

I was really impressed by their enclosures also - there were really roomy for a place run on donations - very impressive.

This is just part of an enclosure - it expands out quite far. There is a huge tiger in there. Not Shere Khan alas but a huge tiger regardless. He has a friend in there to hang out with, and both seemed very content.

This is a gorgeous white tiger relaxing next to some chickens that have been left behind for it to eat. There was a big information sign about how terrible it is to breed white tigers because due to their inbreeding they have tons of health problems and often many deformities - and the "bad" ones are often just killed. 

Ugh - Siegfried and Roy I blame you. 

There were more peacocks roaming the grounds of this place than the sum total of peacocks I have ever seen in my life. It was also a fun time to get to remind Louis that he used to be terrified of them, and taunt him accordingly. I'm an awesome parent, yo.

In addition to the serious number of dangerous carnivores who call the place home, there were lots of other animals, emu and ostrich, goats, cows, miniature horses, and so on, for us to pet and say hello to. 

The heat was miserable but the animals were fun and awesome to see. 

Eventually the heat was too much for these six humans, it was close to 100 and we were all dying of too hot so we decided to head back inside and have some AC and see the indoors animals. Julia declared this statue at the door a "spider dog".

I asked her why it's a spider dog and she said "JUST LOOK AT IT MOM!"

Ok then.

The indoors smelled so bad it barely made the AC worth it. I don't know what smells, these tiny furry creatures or something else. It was like a massive sewer back up, in hell. It was vile and we only lasted a little bit inside then we headed out to the next part of our adventure for the day.

There is a huge picnic area that stays open later than the rest of the park and we made our way over there, laden with picnic basket and cooler packed full of goodies in secret by Daddy!

But before we opened the basked of goodies - the snow cone vendor was accepting one last customer - US. OH god is anything better than a snow cone on a day were the heat is almost 100? NO. Nothing is better.

We thanked her profusely and took our treasures back to the table to feast upon the sugary ice and drop our internal body temperatures. Thank you snow cone lady, we were so very, very hot.

Our picnic was an assortment of crackers, cheese, fruit and meat and everyone dove in like it was a feast. What is it about a picnic that makes simple things like pepperoni feel like a major treat?

It was our end of summer send off, as today we'll be preparing for the big day tomorrow. Back to school, twins go to Middle School, and Julia starts school. I can't believe summer is over but I think we all need to get back to a schedule and a more normal life. 

I'm really glad Louis asked us every weekend forever about going to this place. It was really worth the 90 minute drive. It was a great family day together. 

And now, time to get ready to start school.