Sometimes you have to let them do their thing

The other day when I opened the freezer, I saw two slices of white bread resting amongst the frozen foods. Odd.

Being the curious and not-too-neat sort, I left them there and hoped that one day I would find out how and why the slices were out of any packaging and in the freezer.

Days passed until the day Meg walked out of the kitchen with both pieces in her hands.

"Do you know why I put two pieces of bread in the freezer?" she asked.

Nope, but I sure wanted to know without dousing her fun. "No, honey, but I've been wondering why, " I answered.

"Well, I wanted to make an ice cream sandwich."

She put the bread back in the freezer for later, and I smiled, holding in my laughter for later when I told Brian. He asked me today if she's tried it yet. Nope, not yet.

Another day, another punch to the heart

The hardest part about today was trying to figure out why I was so upset about something that I already knew. Today, Brian and I (and Finn) went to the Autism Center at Children's Hospital for Jake's evaluation results. No surprise, he has been diagnosed with autistic disorder. It doesn't change who Jake is. The doctor told me two weeks ago that they were going to give him this diagnosis. His neurologist diagnosed him with autism last spring. And, yet, the only thing that I wanted to do was weep, bawl, cry, snot and all. My insides were writhing with sorrow; still are actually. I've thought of little else all afternoon and evening. Why?

At one point, I stood in the kitchen and stared out the window, didn't see anything. "Why?" echoing in my tired little mind. I've known. I've known for a long time. I saw nothing until I looked down at the golden lid on Finn's Enfamil powder.

"Because it's your baby."

Just writing it now, I choke on the sobs. Because he's my baby. We've mourned and rejoiced with and over Jake since that plastic stick declared that I was carrying him in my womb. We've mourned and rejoiced. We will continue to mourn and rejoice. Because he's my baby.

Tonight I asked God if that is how he responds to our pain and joy. Because we're his babies.

That would be a beautiful place to end tonight, but I need to add some garland, something that touched my heart. The doctor gave us a preliminary report to take home. Here is the second paragraph:

"Jacob has many notable strengths. Jacob is a happy, content child. He is loving, and enjoys cuddling or leaning on his dad. He tries to be funny (says "funny" and laughs). He tries to be independent in many things. He also has a caring and loving family who is committed to finding appropriate interventions for his needs."

How many people have such wonderful words written into their medical file? Jakey does. And, this isn't the only one.

It's finally gone

Just one week and two days shy of 8-1/2, Jake has lost his first tooth, upper middle. We were wondering if Finn's first tooth would come in before Jake lost one. And, he really LOST it. We have no idea where it is and if we will ever see it. Now he has a huge gap with an adult tooth pushing it's way through.

Just had to mark the event before the day was through.

A visual state of affairs

Unfortunately, the images aren't in the order that I wanted, and I'm too lazy to change them, but you only know because I'm telling. Silly me. Now, the pic above is Finn wearing Meg's snowboots. His legs aren't quite long enough to fill them yet.

Jake is almost always wearing headphones and listening to one of his shows. This time he is in the yard while Papa is working on cleaning up the vehicles during the last warm days of summer. In the background, you can glimpse the newest addition to our 3 car fleet, a yellow MINI convertible. Alas, the '97 van and the Element are no longer ours.

Meg has been loving her snowboard lessons at Mini Mountain. The carpet she is laying on is like a large treadmill. Actually, she rarely falls in her lessons.

This is her usual position, upright and working on her edges.

Jakey went with Finn and me to the doctor so that the boys could get their flu shots (and Finny his other 6-month appt stuff). I love how Jakey can always find a way to lounge just like his Mommy.

These are some of my favorite photos of Finn. Yep, he is at the doc's office for his appointment and playing on the exam table. Like most babies, he just loves the mirrors.

Isn't he just the cutest little guy? or am I biased?

And the cycle starts again

Up at 7:30 am (early for me and my not-so-little offspring), I awaken my little birds to an overcast morning so that they can head off to school. Over the years, I've learned to be gentle and sing-songy, opposite from my childhood memories, and coax Meg and Jake out of bed.

Meg grunted that I needn't continue to wake her while Jake hid his head under his blanket and pillow. While Meg prepared for the day, I mixed them each a cup of instant breakfast, chocolate for Meg and vanilla for Jake. Neither of them are big breakfast eaters, and I do what I can.

Finally, I had to literally drag Jake from his bed so that I could dress him in the living room after some cuddle time and kisses.

They looked so much older this year, my fourth grader and third grader. I wanted to capture the moment in a picture ... and that's when everything went wonky. First, Meg wouldn't stand by Jake, then she wouldn't smile or even try. Then, I lost my temper and lashed out. Brian stepped in while I took Jake outside for his bus.

There's more, but now I'm simply happy that they are at school and hopefully enjoying their first day back. I've been feeding Finn and working. Couldn't do that without the boppy and a laptop. After school, Meg and I will rush, and I mean RUSH, off to soccer practice.

Fall is here.

Six months and what a boy!

Finn Zachary is six-months-old today and thriving. He does everything a little guy his age should be doing. He is in the 10-25 percentile for weight and head circumference, and 25-50 for height, actual age not adjusted age. That's 14 lbs, 9 oz and 26 inches long. I took some great photos of him at the doctor's office. I hope to upload them soon, but I'm not very reliable.

In three weeks from today, Meg turns 10. It's hard to wrap my mind around that. She is still such a child but definitely blossoming into a little lady. Hopefully, this weekend I'll be able to take some time to write about our girls-only trip last weekend.

And, then there's sweet Jake, 8-years-old and still with all of his baby teeth. The top one is close to coming out, and that will be the first.

Our family is truly blessed. More to come.

The most courageous boy

Today I transformed Brian from Grizzly Mountain Man to Clean-cut Engineer with a pair of barber's clippers. I should have taken before and after pictures but that smacks of effort. You will just have to use your imagination.

Before we started, Jakey saw Brian carrying the clippers' case and immediately started protesting a haircut that we had no intention of giving him. Brian set down the clippers and carried Jakey to the garage where his computer and toys are. Jakey came back up to the kitchen, our makeshift barbershop, and tearfully babbled about a haircut. Unusual.

Why? Few have witnessed Jake's terror of haircuts but those who have will never forget the screams, the writhing, the flying hands, and the petechial hemorrhaging. Yep, when we cut Jake's hair he usually cries so hard that the blood vessels under his eyes burst and cause red dots the cover his upper cheeks. Brian has to hold Jakey's arms to his sides so that his fingers don't get in the way of the clippers. The experience is so horrifying that we only cut his hair twice a year. Even mentioning the word "haircut" in his presence will induce tears and protests. For a child with sensory issues, haircuts are scary -- no control, no line of sight, loud noise by the eyes, hair being tugged. And, Jake has never liked people even touching his head.

The previous paragraph still does not fully explain how awful haircuts are for Jake and us. May you never experience putting your child (who doesn't understand you fully) through something so terrifying to them.

Back to the story ... through his tears, Jakey insisted on having his haircut. Brian held him tight on around the midsection. I held out the clippers so that Jakey could turn them on and touch the base. Then, I started cutting. Jakey sat still, no writhing, his hands at his side. He cried and babbled but allowed me to continue. About halfway through, Jake's hysteria started rising, and we asked him if he wanted to take a break. He turned off the clippers and calmed himself a bit.

Before starting up again, I asked if he wanted to finish. Choking on his tears, Jake said, "Finish."

I held out the clippers towards him and let him turn them on again. Surprisingly, he put his hand on the clippers to bring them up to his head for me to finish.

He never once stopped crying, never stopped being afraid. He still doesn't understand that the clippers won't hurt him and why Mommy and Papa put him through this torture. Yet, he endured, encouraged us to continue. That's courage. Our Jakey is the most courageous boy, and we are so proud of him. And, humbled by what a little, disabled boy can do.