fish in the sea

I started writing this blog three and one half years ago, mostly because I could never find a pen. I had an empty journal by my bedside to write in- but could never find a pen when I needed it. I finally understood why little old ladies stopped me in the store and whispered- It goes by so fast.I was a working Mom to my 6-month-old baby boy, Greyson.  I didn't have much time or energy to write, but on occasion I chronicled milestones and small details of life so I wouldn't forget.  I didn't know anything about photography and I rarely took pictures of Grey, which made me feel guilty. I hoped blogging would nudge me to document life more in photographs. Guilt is only okay if it gives you a nudge to make a change.



After realizing Greyson was on the autism spectrum, I wrote this post and I started to share this blog with other people. I felt scared and vulnerable and naked, but I did it anyway. Greyson still wouldn't be diagnosed for 2 more months and during that time in my life I convinced myself a hundred times a day that it actually wasn't autism after all. Painfully hopeful.

Telling other people bad news, like, My child has autism, is incredibly not fun at all. You suddenly feel in charge of other people's reactions and feelings. No one really knows what to say. It's an awkward conversation that you then are forced to have over and over.Talking about it on the blog was more comfortable because I could just let it all out without worry of the response.


For the past year and a half I have poured my heart, my time, my soul and myself into this blog, for so many reasons.


Mainly for these two little reasons right here


There were so many times I wanted to sleep or watch TV or just not think, but instead I wrote as if my life depended on it. Some days I think it did. The more people that were brave and shared their stories with me, the more important this blog became to me and the more important I felt my message was. Awareness. I believe each voice- no matter how small, can change the world.

I hear from many parents who keep their child's spectrumness a secret. I am honored that you feel safe enough to tell me. You are brave. I want you to know I am working my tail off to lessen the stigma attached for all children that get a medical or scholastic label, so perhaps we can live in a world where you feel safe sharing your story with the world too. I can't imagine how heavy that must feel to keep inside.

The more people know about autism, aka Super Powers, the less scary it is and the less isolated I feel too. And PS- Super Powers can replace any diagnosis, syndrome or any term you want. It doesn't just have to be autism. (And thank you, RJ for coming up with it!)




The more I have expressed myself, the more I realized that this sharp, painful, protective love I have for my babies and for life, well, you have it too, no matter your circumstances. And because of our mutual ability to love and to feel, we relate.





A couple of weeks ago we went to an amazing aquarium in Monterey, California. On the drive home I thought about all the exhibits. Which one was my favorite? I wondered. The jelly fish were amazing,  beautiful and so vibrant.




They were dangerous and exciting. But they weren't my favorite. Maybe they would have been a few years ago, but not any more. Not by far.

My favorite were the schools of fish. I found them spellbinding.



So many fish, coordinated and swimming in the same direction, I just got lost staring at them. Schooling helps fish swim more efficiently, gives them a stronger defense against predators and gives them higher success rates in finding a mate. Experiments have shown that fish removed from a school have a higher respiratory rate due to stress. The effect of being with those of the same species appears to be a calming and powerful one.


And here I am now, connecting, sharing and relating with you. We don't want advice. I don't discuss the politics of autism or vaccines. I don't debate autism treatments or chat about which special diet is best. There are plenty of other websites for that stuff. I just want to talk about life and relate and feel human and connect.

I just want to swim with you.


Love,


Chrissy


Swim with us on Facebook

people are good

Dear Frank,

You have no idea the impact you have on a Wednesday. What you don't know is that your presence has been a calming and reassuring force in our week for years now. No matter how good or how bad our week was, there you were every Wednesday reminding me that we could go on. The weeks I couldn't count on anything, I could count on you, Frank to light up my boy's face. My 4-year-old son, Greyson has autism. Some days it's nearly impossible to get into his world. I still remember the first time he heard and processed the hum of your engine coming down our street. My son who barely speaks said to me, I want truck. You better believe we ran. 

You broke into his world when I couldn't, and moments spent watching you go down our street together brought him back to me. And almost every week after that first time he asked, I would hold my breath and wait and hope he would ask for you again, I want truck. And so often he did and we would run outside in whatever discombobulated state we were in to see you. 

I remember Grey started preschool this past fall. I was so sad and not at all ready to let go of my little buddy. I was mournful to say goodbye to our trash truck Wednesdays. And on that first Wednesday morning after the school year began, I heard your hum on our street as we were leaving for school. You came early and we still got to see you. Suddenly I knew we would be okay. 

Today I heard your melodic engine roar and hum, your brakes squeaking with each stop of your truck. We went outside and waited for you. And Grey's eyes came alive when we finally saw you turn the corner onto our street. 






And today as you were driving away you abruptly came to a stop, reversed and you opened your door. 




I see you two out here every week, you said. Do you want to get a really good picture? And you opened your world and your heart and your truck to me and my boy. You have no idea what that moment meant to me.



I asked you your name and I shook your hand when I really wanted to grab you and hug you. I tried to hold back my tears. I wanted to tell you everything but all I could do was squeak out thanks. 



Sometimes I worry- How will the world treat my boys? And today was a beautiful reminder that people are good- all because of you, Frank. I saw the way your face lit up with joy that my son put there and I was so proud and so honored and so humbled to be a part of such a magical moment. Sometimes I hear phrases like People are so stupid, or crazy or mean. To them I say- No they aren't. You haven't met Frank.



Love,



Chrissy


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half full and happy

Today I was waiting.

Waiting impatiently for Grey to pee. Bored. Sick of the Bathroom. So much waiting. Always waiting.

Waiting for him to wash his hands. It takes him so long and it's so much easier to do it for him but then he doesn't learn. 

So much waiting. Waiting until August for the next available Occupational Therapy Evaluation. Waiting to figure out what to do about Grey's schooling in the future. Waiting to hit our deductible so speech for Grey is covered. Waiting to see if we can get more Behavior therapy hours for Grey. Waiting for the boys to talk. Waiting for Grey to poo on the potty. Waiting to put Parker down for a nap, waiting for bed time. When you are a human, there is always a million things in the in between, waiting to be figured out. 

And today I decided, I am done with waiting. At least for the day. Instead of waiting- I'm just going to be, and it was such a relief. Waiting is so slow and boring makes me the victim of circumstance, but being is so sweet and calm and I'm in charge.

Telling the truth makes me feel more normal. Hiding my crazy makes it grow. You gotta follow the recipe that works for you and gives you the greatest potential for happiness. You deserve that. I'm a glass half full kind of gal. Some people say that once you have a child with Super power- the sad never truly goes away. For me- I say the sad went away- it just comes around in moments. Half full and happy. I think that's a good combination.

I thought of something today. Something that scared me. I hate to watch Grey struggle- it makes me sad. I wish life was easier for him. But sometimes I get sad for me too. Because I don't like to struggle or feel sad either. And then I thought about how sad I would be if I had a condition that made someone else so sad- because they expected me to be something else... but there was nothing I could do because I was inseparable from my condition. So today I thought, this autism thing-in a way, it isn't really about me. My boys are a precious gift from God. It's my earthy duty to take care of them. God said I'm gonna give her two incredibly precious and sacred little boys. They will give her life joy and a beauty she's never seen or experienced before. I trust she will adore these boys. Her parenting will also include lots of crappy moments, hard times and scary parts- but I hope she doesn't focus on that. Boy I really hope she is able to focus on that first part.

God, thank you for my gifts. They are perfect.

I was at Grey's typical preschool during their outside water play day. Teacher Gardenia was passing out popsicles in every color of the rainbow. You get what you get and you don't throw a fit, she exclaimed as she randomly distributed colors. Brilliant.




And not one single child whined, I wanted red or I don't want this green one. They were just happy to have popsicles outside while enjoying the summer sun. 


I refuse to sit here and let my popsicle melt because I didn't want orange. I don't want to cry over my popsicles, I love my popsicles. I would choose the exact same popsicles over and over and over again out of an entire whole store full of popsicles.



And as I type I am almost crying...over popsicles...which aren't really popsicles at all. It's a day by day thing- life, but today I'm certain I focused on the good.

___________________________

We have two dogs. This is Belle.




She's Michael's favorite and she bugs the hell out of me (but of course I love her like a Mother). Jack is the calm dog and he is my favorite. Maybe opposites do attract...which sucks because that means I'm like Belle...which I am.

We can't take Belle to the dog park because she is nuts and she goes crazy on the other dogs. Belle is always so worried. Lately she has been obsessed with the dog that lives behind us. She constantly wants to be outside so she can stand by the fence and wait for the dog.  She doesn't even enjoy being outside really because she is so worried about that dog, worried about where the dog is and what the dog is doing. And none of it is even real, the dog is old, doesn't give a crap about Belle and rarely comes to the fence. Seeing Belle so caught up in this charade is very humbling... I just want to tell her, Belle, just live a good life. Don't worry about everything. Especially things that don't even exist in the first place. Except I should replace the name Belle with Chrissy.

Are you a worrier too?


Guess what I worried about the whole time I was pregnant with Grey? Autism? Hell no. I worried I was going to poop when I was pushing while in labor.  No, seriously. I remember asking the doctor and the nurses what would happen if I did. I tried to look up statistics on how often it occurs. I googled ways to avoid it. It never came true. I should keep a log book of my worries that never come true. It would be HUGE. I was also worried sick over Grey's first IEP. Ours was a breeze and my worries were unfounded.

Every child with autism is so completely different and so is every parent's story.  The journey to acceptance takes time- and the amount of time isn't the same for everyone. There is no one right way. Everyone is entitled to stay in denial as long as they need- and everyone is entitled to be sad as long as they need to be sad too.  Don't judge your own sad. I'm not telling you not to be sad- I'm just saying I give you permission to give up the sad starting today if you are ready. I no longer have that constant flow of sad punctuating everything I do. It is possible. I know that's so hard for many people to believe. We have moments of sad, but they are moments, not forevers.


I am so excited you are here. I love hearing from you that you are reading this blog back to the beginning. That's exactly something I would do. I'm so excited you are helping me change the world two eyes at a time too. I promise- you take so much of the sad away.

Join us on Facebook!!! We need more world changers like you.


Love,

Chrissy

love and marriage

Today Michael and I celebrated our 7th anniversary. I am not the - 7 years ago today I married my best friend and soul mate status update leaver. Our life is far from a Hallmark card.



My update would be closer to, 7 years ago today I married the biggest pain in the ass I've ever met in my life. We bicker all the time over the stupidest stuff. He snores and leaves dishes in the sink. He leaves a trail of stuff in every single room he was in... However, he's got a great heart, and is honestly the smartest guy I know. He always means well and he loves our boys just as much as me and I can't even believe that is humanly possible. He still says I have a cute butt and I'm pretty even when I look like crap in the morning.




Did I mention he is really amazing with the kids? 

He is also so excited about our new Friends on the blog- YOU- which is so sweet. He will send me texts like, 2009 likes on the Life with Greyson + Parker Facebook page! He gets (almost) as excited as I do each time someone likes the page. We are so giddy and grateful to YOU because you are helping us change the world too. And don't worry you non-Facebook readers- WE LOVE YOU TOO.




I will talk to you honestly about my marriage because it feels good. It's a little scary sometimes but more good than scary so I will continue to be honest. I think it's one of those things that you are supposed to keep private and shiny and publicly Hallmark-y, but I can't.  I hope it gives you permission to do the same.

Sometimes when you are on different sides of communication worlds you must create a bridge to help connect the two sides. I used to think it was necessary to be on the same side to connect, but now I try to look for a bridge.

Michael and I struggle with intimacy related to communication. I appreciate with love and words and he appreciates with acts of service. Yes, I've read The 5 Love languages. At the end of the day- I still need words though- but I'm leaning to realize he doesn't mean to punch me in the face when I say- I'm really sad today and he says, Don't be sad, and then brings me a Starbucks later. That's actually him loving me in the way that he knows how. So I love him the ways that I know how and we work on it.

Yesterday we celebrated our anniversary. Michael surprised me and lined up a babysitter all on his own. We went shopping, got unfancy massages and went to dinner. We were home by 8, which is perfect for this old Grandma.



I was dying when I read this little massage translation card they had at the massage place, And by the way, this card is totally a bridge.

We were walking around on our date and Michael kept holding my hand. I would hold back for a few minutes but then think- Gosh my hand is hot. And the more I thought about how hot my hand was the hotter and sweatier it felt- and I would pull away. Michael said, I like to hold hands. I told him Oh- I'm glad you said that-I didn't know. I don't like to hold hands. It makes my hand sweat. But since you like to- I will for a few minutes.

It was a nice little stroll on the communication bridge.

When we started Early intervention for Greyson people were eager to tell me how hard this journey would be on my marriage. So far that hasn't been the case for us. Autism is stressful on me and on Michael but so far I haven't seen that parlay into our marriage. I think autism just brings to the surface struggles that had the potential to already be there. I know we are really lucky because we completely line up on thoughts about therapy, current expectations and realistic yet unlimited hopes for the future. I am grateful to live in an area that has amazing funding and coverage for services, and so blessed that we have health insurance to cover the extras that aren't covered.

There are often things that I want to do that Michael doesn't have an opinion on,  but he trusts mine. I am hard wired to be a bus driver when it comes to the boy's therapy. At the beginning when there were just so many decisions to make- there were times I asked Michael for input. He would say- I don't care- whatever you think. I trust you. And sometimes I would secretly get pissed. WHY DO I HAVE TO DECIDE EVERYTHING? I wondered. But then one day I realized, Because, that's how you like it silly. You both can't drive the bus. You picked a man partially based on the fact that he is also comfortable being a passenger- which is a great match for you. And then I wasn't mad anymore. Sometimes I get overwhelmed and something seems too hard or too paper-worky or too confusing and I will ask Michael- Can you just totally take this over? And he does...and I can't believe it was that simple- instead of stewing, all I had to do was ask.


Speech therapy is another bridge between my boys the Typical World.  It's one of the most important pieces of our therapy regimen. I get so excited in the moments that it helps me reach them.




I'm extra lucky because on Mondays both boys get to speech at the same time.









Relationships and emotions are simple, incredibly complicated things. Greyson doesn't understand the meanings behind facial expressions. For most Typical children that type of learning comes naturally. They will learn- when Mommy is yelling and her face is scrunched up like that she is mad. I've full on boo-hoo cried in front of Greyson and he doesn't recognize a single thing to be out of place. Sometimes it makes me feel like a ghost.




Facial expressions and emotions are something Grey has to be taught specifically. He is learning them by pictures first.




Grey-Which one is happy? He will just memorize what the expressions look like from the cards. Then he will learn in the real world, which is called generalization.



Seven years and two kids. 




Lots of laughs and many tears, both good and bad ones. I looked up from the kitchen today and completely stopped in my tracks from the view. I felt so lucky.




And I felt that numerous times today.



Lucky, lucky, lucky. Parker takes the water table very seriously.



Have a great day. And I like more pound.


So much Love,

Chrissy

circumstance + Perspective=happy

The California winds were in full effect today. It was the kind of day that felt like anything was possible, but instead of feeling like I needed to Carpe Diem the whole wide world, I just sat back content with my own sweet little slice.

Today I collected favorite (mom)ents in a little satchel that I will carry in my pocket to last throughout the week.

This morning we stayed in our jammies forever. When I was sufficiently caffeinated the whole family went for a walk. The warm air and loud and enveloping wind made it easy to walk and feel without needing to think a single thing. We encountered 2 amazing eagles on our trek, beautiful, strong and hovering. I just stopped to take in their size and beauty. I wish you had been there.

I like getting to know you too. This blog is a two way street. I rarely ever leave comments on blogs or with writers I felt a connection with. I think- look how many comments they already get- they don't care to hear from me. What can I say to express how I feel that they haven't heard? If they are a writer I think- I would leave a comment but I can't think of anything writery and unique. But you have changed me. I have gotten lost in your beautiful messages, notes and comments. I fold them up on a piece of paper and put them in my imaginary pocket for forever. Thank you for sharing your time and your heart and your stories with me. I assure you, I care deeply. I'm overflowing with grateful. Writing this blog has made me see just how big and tiny this sweetly beautiful world really is.

_____________________________

Finally after the waiting and screenings and evaluations and assessments and approval Greyson was 25 months old when we officially started early intervention services. It was almost 2 years ago exactly.





It took forever to get the ball rolling which delayed things by a few months. I think it's funny that the very entity that says early intervention is so important has so many hoops to jump through.



This was our first day of early intervention preschool. It was horrible. He hated it and so did I, neither one of us wanted to be there. We both cried. It got better. It always gets better friend- whatever it is.



At first I truly didn't think spectrum. We treated him as if it was autism, because clearly something was going on...but I thought speech delay or delayed development. After a few months into early intervention I think I knew-- but I took a vacation and stayed in a little cottage called Denial. It was a nice and necessary trip - but the thing about denial is that you can't stay there very long. Then I knew. I knew-knew, and went through the many stages of grief while I worked like crazy to figure out what I was supposed to do next.


We started intense at home Behavior therapy - and I was pissed that my life was harder than everyone else I knew. I was pissed about a lot. Fast forward 10 months to the realization of Parker also having autism. Sick numb unfair, please...just no. I can't.


And in dealing with that grief my heart broke wide open. I realized there is purpose to all of this pain and I believe God chose me for exactly this journey. And a beautiful thing happened when I realized that there is no hard scale. Is my life harder than someone with two typical kids?

Now I would NEVER say yes. Because the truth is- I don't know. What if they have two typical kids and lupus- and a loveless and painful marriage? What if they have no children, and are struggling with infertility but would do anything in the world to have two autistic kids? Is their life harder or mine?

I can't answer that. I don't know because there is no baseline for happy. There is no hard scale. Life is hard for everyone. We all struggle and we all thrive. And I don't want to focus on what I don't have because that doesn't make me happy. 

Happiness equals Circumstance +perspective. My circumstances weren't chosen but I choose my perspective daily. Circumstance we can't always change. Perspective is life's play doh and we can often mold it any which way we want.  Perspective can even be borrowed and shared. Many days I think perspective saves my life.

_________

Today was Jack the dog's birthday. Jack is my very first born baby boy. Jack taught me that it is possible to love and communicate and understand someone that can't talk to me in words. Crazy how much that lesson serves me still. To celebrate Jack we took him to the dog park.










The dogs were crazy about Parker. I had to hide him from them up on the table.



Jack loves running so much he smiles.







Greyson realized he could see his own reflection in Michael's glasses and he was enamored. Fascinated. He kept sticking out his tongue.

Afterwards we went to one of Greyson's favorite weekend hideouts. It's an old house on an historical stretch of land. There's a frog pond, a tractor and beautiful wild life.



The boys and I could live in the house we love it so much. The winding stair case carries so many stories and so much history. I wish I could see back in time when people still lived there. The house has this amazing old house smell. It's comfortable and soothing and feels like a magical grandma's home that you love to go visit.





Grey goes from room to room and just takes it all in.



Heaven

(You can read about the time Parker fell in this pond HERE!!!)


And now- screeeeeeeech... We are brought back to the harsh reality of Monday. My perspective is a little sucky on Monday- but I'm gonna try really extra hard. 

Hope your Monday treats you kind. Stop by Life with Greyson + Parker on Facebook and say hello. That makes me very happy. We can conquer our Monday together. 

(mom)ents

I usually write Sunday-Thursday every week, but I have so many new Friends and I'm just so excited that all my silver and gold friends are here together so I want to offer you a popsicle so you will stay at my house longer.

Plus I have a little time before I have to leave for a very fancy and important party... okay fine- I mean sushi take out in my bed.

I am learning to be happily mediocre at the things I am mediocre at. I'm working on pouring less heart into my mediocre and more love into the places I rock. 

I'm a horrible cook- like laughably bad. Like I can burn rice- in a rice cooker. Truth. And I can't follow a recipe- because I don't get to be creative at all and then I just get so bored. I am not a good house keeper either. Sometimes I pull my sweatshirt sleeve over my hand and wipe window sills and call it dusting.  I don't do my laundry- the husband does. 

Certainly your children are better behaved and wearing cleaner clothes than mine.

I don't really have a signature style of clothing. I don't know how to match tops with pants with accessories so I just find something simple that works and wear the same version of it over and over again.

There are lots of moms feeding their children better, healthier and possibly even organic snacks. I promise your kids eat more vegetables than mine.  Mine don't even like ketchup- I thought all kids liked ketchup? Isn't that some law? I've tried so many times to sneak vegetables into unexpected places but they are on to me. I mostly gave up awhile ago.

I'm not crafty at all. I can't do Pinterest projects, which is probably why I find this blog about Pinterest Fails so fantastic and hilarious. I'm rarely on time, my car is DISGUSTING. I could go on and on. 


When it comes to parenting I'm not the best at any one thing. Except for one thing, I am amazing at being in love with my boys. Soaking em up. Getting annoyed and overwhelmed and yelling and loving all at the same time.

I am better than anyone at soothing Parker after he wakes up from a nap.








And Grey thinks I can do almost anything.  His balloon popped- he didn't even freak out- he handed it to me...








Boooooooooowwwwww, he said... Because he thinks I'm capable of blowing up popped balloons. So of course I quickly ran to the drawer and grabbed a new white balloon and pretended like I was blowing up the broken one. I'm not ready for him to know yet  that I'm not magic. And the whole time I blew up the balloon he just jumped up and down and flapped he was so happy.


I'm good at making Greyson happy.


You are a master at loving your loves too. Unbeatable in fact. Isn't that the biggest part of what it's all about really? We beat ourselves up over the little tiny things- like if they are eating enough vegetables-or our house isn't clean, but the big things- like loving big- we often fail to notice. I think we should take a minute to notice.


I'm also good at writing. I'm a terrible technical writer- but I am a good feely writer. I put a spout into my heart- which hurts a little at first but then just lets the love pour out. I take good pictures. I've never taken a class on it- but I know they are good because they make me FEEL. My pictures grew a soul after Greyson was diagnosed with autism. I've been shooting in Manual mode for almost 3 years now. I had to learn how to use every facet of my fancy camera quickly and efficiently in order to capture his soul which sometimes hides from his eyes. The pictures I took before I learned how to shoot in manual mode often made me so sad because they just didn't capture the boy I knew.


I can tell with one click of my shutter if Grey is with me or gone somewhere far away inside his head. Sometimes I take 100 to end up with a couple that makes my heart sing.





That's the key to taking good pictures- a willingness to take lots and lots and lots of bad pictures. I think that's the key to living a good life too- being willing to try over and over and over again if we don't get the results we want at first.




A moment of eye contact with Greyson is fleeting...I use tricks to try and get it.  But my camera captures it for forever and it fills me up. His eyes were dark and I couldn't find him in them all day yesterday, but today his eyes were bright. He was back.



If you are like me- it's hard to say I am good at (blank). It was just so hard for me to say that stuff-which is why I am practicing. That's not humble or polite, I say to me, that's boastful.  Aren't you full of yourself? There are many trained photographers so much better than you. And what makes you a writer? Because you write a blog? They let ANYONE write a blog.

I work at telling that mean girl inside to shut up. I'm practicing living larger than I give myself credit for. I'm practicing finding a new peace with the mediocre parts of me. I'm practicing getting self-worth for who I am and not the tasks I accomplish.

Want to join me? Don't focus on what you aren't awesome at. I promise there are things that you rock that no one else can. Focus on those things.

Usually its not you I compete with anyway- it's me. It's the type A, tightly wound, control freak me- on her very best day...the day where everything is clean and put away and I fixed my hair and wore makeup and didn't burn the rice and returned all my emails and phone calls and I worked out and worked with the boys patiently and calmly and emptied the dish washer and there are clean sheets on the bed and my to do list is totally crossed off. Yep, I compete with her.


The truth is, I'm a regular everyday mom and wife having sacred and everyday moments.





Notice I didn't say just a mom- because it's important and sacred work- this parenting gig. But I am like you. Or different from you but the same as you still. I'm just a regular old girl who feels a lot scared and a little overwhelmed at times. I'm glad you are here on this wild joy ride with me.






Are you that too?

Have an amazing weekend. I'll talk with you on the other side.

Come see Life with Greyson + Parker on Facebook...



Love,


Chrissy

being born

I tried to pretend like last night was like any other night.


Deep breath in. Exhale. Deep breath. Exhale. 


No thinking. Stop thinking. I SAID NO MORE THINKING, CHRISSY. I felt like it was the night before I was giving birth and I knew that by today everything would change. Maybe for just a day and maybe for forever. I had no idea what it all was going to look like or what I was going to feel like. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and whispered, I can't believe I almost forgot to tell you, Thank you. It's me, God- Chrissy. And I don't need anything tonight. I just wanted to say thanks.

I didn't have butterflies in my stomach, they were actually fish and they were bucking and flipping over and splashing around violently. I tried to recall the last time I felt so anxious and so much adrenaline for something amazing. It's been a long time.

And after waking up numerous times throughout the night, I woke up to the real today. A day just like any other day but in an entirely different universe. I made my coffee first and then I snuggled back into bed with Greyson and Jack the dog and I finally allowed myself to open my computer.

And I was scared. So scared when I realized it was actually me being born.

For those of you that don't know, my family's story was featured at a big safe place in the sky called Momastery. Momastery is a blog and a person and a way of Life. Momastery is the place you go to learn that We can do hard things, Love wins, and We belong to each other. Glennon Melton is the Mom that gave birth to Momastery and I am gracious that she shined her bold and brave light of truth on me.

I was so nexcited. Nervous and excited. I read comment after comment about me, about my family and about our story. It was a little out of body. I couldn't sort out all of my feelings or feel them fast enough. Nervous and excited and happy and sick to my stomach and scared. Hands shaking scared.

Michael, the out of town for work husband started texting me like crazy- first thing this morning, giving me updates.
36 comments on Momastery!
1,500 likes on Facebook!

And he started emailing me other links he found on the Internet discussing my words... I opened the first one and started to read...and I started to cry. In my blog post on Momastery, I discussed my feelings about the realization that Greyson was autistic. I wrote, I had irrational thoughts. I remember thinking- I wish Greyson had cancer, then there would at least be the possibility that it could go away. And this comment had hurt some hearts that had been affected by cancer and they were angry. In no way would I ever make light of cancer. And they had a right to share their feelings - just like I had a right to share mine. But I'm not in the business of hurting feelings, so when I do, especially with purest of intentions, it makes me sad. I know just how lucky I am to have my babies in this world. After I dropped the boys off at therapy this morning I sat in my car thinking and honoring and loving those affected by cancer like crazy. And to those parents, I want to say, I am on your side. I don't know the pain of cancer, only the pain of pain. And if you lost your child to cancer, I am so sorry. You know a pain that no person should ever have to know. 

Am I sorry I wrote the cancer comment?  Not at all. It was exactly what I was feeling at that time in my life and I wanted to be able to take you to that dark place. Do you know that dark place? Where you have no idea how you will find the courage to get out of your bed and breath all day long? Where you only eat so you can nurse your 4-month-old but feel sick every time you do? And despite the fact that your sheets feel scary and suffocating and dirty they still feel safer than the world? A place where showers were something you used to do when life made sense? Where you sleep- not to rest but to escape your own mind? Where you are wearing the same big sweatshirt you've had on for days but don't give a shit? I was there. I want to be painfully authentic about my feelings. I do not want to censor myself because then my writing will lack authenticity. I don't know how to write fiction. 

So for a few hours today I stepped away from the phone and computer and regrouped and refound my voice. I Mom'ed. I picked the boys up from Behavior therapy, which luckily, sometimes looks like fun.





For a little while today I felt like Parker here. Completely overwhelmed.






It's all good now.



Many kids on the spectrum are highly sensitive to touch.  They either love or can't stand touching things with different textures. This wall helps work through that.





Today Parker ran up to me and wrapped his chubby little arms tightly around my neck and gave me a brilliant hug, he pulled back slightly and looked deep into my eyes, and for the first time in his life he gave me a kiss all own his own. I didn't even have to ask. Little light bulbs daily, Friends.

After we got home we had lunch.  For a few weeks now Greyson has been using a picture exchange book. When Greyson can't express himself he gets so frustrated, but now thanks to this book, to a certain extent he has a voice.



Now when Greyson wants something- He just "asks".






Baby wants hot dog? Baby gets hot dog. Today's Momastery post has reinforced for me the importance of being able to express yourself. I don't know how I would be okay if I couldn't share my words and feelings and be heard and relate to other beautiful people. Being able to relate to others is one of the greatest gifts in the world. I want that gift for Greyson and Parker too. Seeing Greyson express himself with this book often brings me to tears. 





Despite the fact that he is a wee-man today Parker insisted on sitting in a big boy chair.


Later this afternoon we had some more Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA) at home. I'll usually refer to it as just therapy or Behavior Therapy. One of the things Greyson is working on is sorting like items.







It helps him make sense of the world and organize his mind. His therapist will hand him an item and say- Greyson, put with Food (or clothes or drawing for this trial). Greyson is learning to sort items and I am learning to sort out my feelings. We are both always learning. It's one of my favorite hobbies in the world.

This evening the boys and I unwound at the pool during the bewitching hours. I said to heck with the no-naked-pool-time rule I've worked so hard to establish. Suddenly I realized that I wanted to join the boys in the water, but I didn't have a suit close by. I couldn't handle the double tantrum of bringing them inside with me to grab my suit and I couldn't leave them alone by the pool.  So I went for it. There I was, with my tattered and comfortable, at least 2-years-old Victoria's secret black thong underwear (AND TRIED TO IGNORE THE FACT THAT THE TWO-STORY NEIGHBORS BEHIND US CAN SEE DIRECTLY INTO OUR POOL). 

This new born baby got baptized.



In this picture I blurred my feet out and focused on the water because I have bunions. SEE!!! THIS TRUTH TELLING IS SO INTOXICATING!!!



Sometimes we have to strip down to truly be honest.

Today was outright amazing. And as this crazy and glorious day unwinds, I'm grateful for being born today. Yes, the lights are bright and I am unsure of this beautiful new world. My brand new skin is sensitive and splotchy and thin. It will toughen with time. 

And I am so excited and grateful to share autism awareness and to continue to change the world two eyes at a time. In addition to the eleventy-zillion hits on Momastery, 10,748 people stopped by our blog today Friends!  That's over 21,000 eyes!!!  I can't stop smiling and reading your stories and comments and loving and relating. I am grateful.

What are you grateful for today? I want to know.


Much Love,


Chrissy 

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