blue skies

We woke up this morning to muted gray light leaking in through the bedroom windows. Rain pouring outside the glass with increasing intensity. I felt the dry cracked earth of California's Central Valley sigh in relief.



In typical fashion we were scattered and hurried leaving the house for Behavior Therapy this morning. Binders and flash cards and packed snacks flying into bags. Greyson and Parker sat in the backseat of the car, mesmerized by the rain drops hitting the car windows and then rapidly zooming off kamikaze style. The drive was silent except for the slick sound of wet tires to pavement and the symphony of systematic drops hitting the strong steel of the car overhead.

I was captivated watching the boys experience the rain when we got out of the car. Their faces confused and scrunched up as if the single droplets hitting their face were rude and painful. They hated it. I tried to shelter us all with our small umbrella.

I had to make a second trip for the boys stuff, and Greyson came with me.







As we started to go back into the school, Greyson stopped, confused. He thought I was taking him back home with me. And we went back into the building and he started to sob. Like a real cry- the kind of cry your child makes that actually breaks your heart.



And he can't talk, but he so desperately needed to tell me what he wanted. And when I really start to think about that- the fact that he can't talk, I feel like I am drowning and I can't yell for help. I can't imagine how that would feel- to have so much to say but be physically unable to say it- the words a jumbled mess in my brain, my mouth unwillingly uncooperative. Greyson was yelling out "words" I didn't understand, but I could make out the word, home. He kept repeating his babble, with increasing loudness and intensity- hoping that magically I would finally understand him. I could hear his heart breaking, and I could feel my heart breaking for disappointing him. 

I turned the lights off in the room we were in and I put him on the large occupational sized swing, hoping the swinging motion would calm him like it usually does.



And he was panicked, home, he intently repeated- even looking me in the eyes as if to urge me to understand him enough to bring him with me.  I scooped him up into my arms and sat on the ground with him and we rocked back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. He fought the weighted blanket I placed on his shoulders and head, but then finally he just relaxed and stopped trying to talk.

I know, I know, Mommy understands you. I know what you are telling Mommy. It's okay, I'm in your head. You want to go home. I'm so sorry baby, but we can't right now. Right now it's time for school. First school- then home. I will come back in three hours. I'm so proud of you and how hard you work. I am so proud of you.

And I had to pretend to be strong as I gave him a couple last squeezes and walked back to the car. Pissed at myself for not knowing the magic combination of words to soothe his soul. Despite the pounding of the rain, I could still hear his screams as I went into the parking lot. I got into my car and I cried. And I sat there a good long while, unable to leave.

Everyone has a different take on autism. Some people with autism are proud of the way it makes them view the world. Some absolutely do not want a cure. Some parents say they would not change the fact that their child has autism because it helps to make them who they are. I absolutely respect those sentiments and wouldn't dream of telling someone else how to think, especially since each case of autism is so different. However, that is not the case for me. I am so sorry that my babies have autism. I would take a magic wand and erase it in a second. I see them struggle daily. I see them work hard in Behavior Therapy when they would rather be at the park or the zoo. I see them try to form words, their mouth uncooperative and their eyes pleading with me to understand them anyway. I see Parker get so mad that he throws himself down on the floor and then slams his head into the floor behind him with a sickening thunk. He's frustrated and misunderstood. Two things we all hate to be. I know technically autism is a neurological disorder, but I am perfectly comfortable calling it a disease too. Poe-tay-toe, puh-ta-ta to me.

Every day the boys are taught things broken down into minuscule steps that the rest of us learned naturally. They both work so hard. They are my heroes.

I was so thrilled to pick them up and bring them home with me. They were thrilled to come home too.





And it was fitting that the rain had stopped...







And the skies looked like this, and all was right in the world again.


Happy ohmygosh it's finally Friday.

So much Love,

Chrissy

look for the light

Yesterday evening Michael returned home from a work trip to San Diego. When he walked in our house I was upstairs with the boys in our playroom drinking ice water, desperately wishing it was wine, witnessing the greatest jumper I know.






I was sitting on our floor, unshowered and covered in who knows what. Brightly colored toys scattered over every bare inch of carpet and the clutter, chaos and exhaustion left me painfully uncomfortable. Michael sat down on the couch with our dog Belle, and the next thing I know, my phone shot out from the couch cushion like an air hockey puck --directly into my huge cup of water.




Yes, phone death by water. Again.

I couldn't believe it. I was too tired to freak out so instead I just stood up and walked out of the room and quit Mom'ing right then and there. I quit, I kept repeating over and over to myself- seriously.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! I'M DONE, I said to that imaginary person in our head we all argue with when we have officially lost our mind. Sometimes my guy even argues back. And I went into my room and something in my brain just snapped. A good kind of snap- I abruptly shifted direction. I suddenly just didn't care. My phone, the water, Mom'ing, my calender, my schedule, my life. Who cares? If I don't show up somewhere I'm supposed to be? OH WELL. And it took going near the edge to fully get grounded. I don't really care about a phone or a schedule. There are other, important things I have on my heart. And today I just looked for light...

Much like Jack, the good dog does.




Speech Therapy with Parker was a bright light today. For a year he has been working on these vocal imitation cards. He finally can do almost all of them consistently.





His reward was a dip of his toes in the cool, slick beans. A sensory delight and his idea of magic.









And today while lying down during quiet time today, he was fascinated by the strands of hair on my head. He would stare and then pull one out. Today for some reason, I didn't even mind.


I was just happy he was by me. There were bright spots all day long.














He insisted on holding this lolly pop during dinner. He had just woken up from his nap and was a little cranky, so I let him. He didn't even eat it- he just held it while he ate his dinner. I still feel the light from smiling from this. It makes me want to go grab him from his crib and hold him.



I'm so over the polar vortex for you, cold weather Friends. In fact, in sympathy I have been carbo loading every evening, indulging in chocolate and certainly NOT doing any sort of exercise. Here's hoping for rain in California for our crops, and warmth for you all in the cold bits of the world.

I'm going to leave you with some energizing, important words from a book that feels like home to my eyes called, Remember This.

Deep Down, You already know this. But sometimes, you forget. Sometimes you need a reminder of the things you already know, because it's easy to lose sight of them. It's so easy to become distracted with the work of everyday living that the little voice that tells you the good things, the true things, the simple things, gets lost for a moment. Let this be your reminder. Let these words put you back on track. Let them speak to you. And let yourself believe them. Because they're powerful and they're true. And you knew that already.


Love,
Chrissy

PS- the rice worked this time. Phone worked when I turned it on this morning!
PPS- If you live in San Diego, have a child with autism and want to share your story- shoot me an email! @ lifewithgreyson.gmail.com  I'll share more details then.

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lonely Monday

WARNING:

Do you know that song,

Oo-o-o-o-oo 

This is gonna be the best day of my li-ife 

My li-i-i-i-i-ife 

Oo-o-o-o-oo 

This is gonna be the best day of my li-ife 

My li-i-i-i-i-ife 

(This one:)

It's called Best Day of My Life. I just want to let you know- The song is a liar. I know this because I've heard it every single day for at least 17 days in a row, and it has NEVER been true ONE of those days. I even heard it at least twice today, and on days like today, I can't believe Monday isn't a four-letter word. Nothing horrific happened and I actually have absolutely no right to complain, but I will just a little.

I don't know what I expected being a stay at home Mom to be like. Maybe I thought it would have an air of the way college felt. I can fondly remember walking down the hall at my dorm, Freudenberger House, aka Freddy. Even if we were completely different types of people, we were the same because we were all there for the same thing. As you walked down the narrow hall, you saw open door after open door, with people walking freely in and out. It was a community.There was always someone around if you needed to borrow something, someone to study with or go eat with, a friend to watch television with or to just hang out.

There are moments and days and times like Life is like that now- but not very often. And sometimes I get lonely. Passing by people all day long but not really connecting. Everyone so busy doing their own Life. It's hard. I get so lonely to connect. Today I was unbearably lonely. Super busy and bored all at once. And at the end of a long day of work, sometimes it feels like I have nothing to show for it.  No cleaned house or baked good. Nothing finished or completed. And I'm getting tired of the standard- I kept us alive today and that's good enough. And I know... I know, I know, I know- Parenting is important and sacred work. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me. It's exactly what I want to do with my Life. It's just nice to be able to tell the truth about the not so shiny parts.

When Parker took his afternoon nap, I tried to lay down and sleep for a few minutes. Greyson was in bed with me.

Mommy HAS to go to sleep for a few minutes. Please, let Mommy sleep, I begged him. I began to fall asleep and I feel Greyson pulling on my eyelashes-inches away from my face, staring at me intently. A few minutes later he put his fingers in my mouth so he could feel my teeth. I realized with a laugh that sleep just wasn't going to happen. I decided then that I needed to do a reset on my day. I remembered that no day is all good or all bad, and if I kept defining my day as bad- bad was probably be all I was going to notice.

I decided that I just needed to be aware and receptive to the good moments.



Good moments like this- early this morning- moments that I take for granted until my camera reminds me just how special they are.

And today we had Horse Therapy. That was a good moment.



Grey was pretty stoked to be there. I just breathe easier looking at the above picture.





Parker and a wishing well. You make a wish right now too- okay?


Horses are my new favorite people.




This face, ahhhh this face.

We had good moments at Speech Therapy.





Bubbles






Today he tried to eat the bubbles.

And there was an awesome special delivery at our front door. That moment was really good.


When I showed Michael the picture of them he said they were the ugliest shoes he had seen in his whole life. I adore them, they are like a throw-back to my Catholic School Days.

And tonight we went down the street to truly experience the sunset. We still had some daylight to burn. This was a really good moment.















Greyson does this when he is doing something he loves. He just soaks it up with his whole body, fully and completely. What a perfect way to experience the setting of the sun. I started to cry seeing this picture and reading the rest of the lyrics to Best Day of My Life, the song I mentioned when this post first began.


I had a dream so big and loud
I jumped so high I touched the clouds
Wo-o-o-o-o-oh
I stretched my hands out to the sky
We danced with monsters through the night
Wo-o-o-o-o-oh

I'm never gonna look back
Woah, never gonna give it up
No, please don't wake me now

Oo-o-o-o-oo
This is gonna be the best day of my li-ife
My li-i-i-i-i-ife
Oo-o-o-o-oo
This is gonna be the best day of my li-ife
My li-i-i-i-i-ife

Damnit. It's a pretty catchy song. So maybe it wasn't the BEST day of my Life... but it certainly wasn't the worst- not by far. Looking back there were some beautiful moments that took my breath away speckled in between the hard and lonely moments. Not pictured here for a reason- Focus on the good Friend- but make sure you get out the bad. 


So much Love,

Chrissy


PS- I like it when you leave comments. It helps us all feel a little less lonely.

merry go round

I spent my first 25 years in St. Louis, Missouri- part of the great Midwest, a place I will forever call home.







St. Louis is the home of the majestic gateway Arch, which is the tallest manmade monument in the United States.


Home visiting 16 months ago.

Winters were beautiful in so many moments. I remember the sound of snow falling on snow- like a subtle fizz rising to the top of carbonated beverage. I remember the way the snow glowed at night, the palest of blues. I can almost remember the way snow tasted- like cold and swimming and clean. And after the excitement of the first snow wore off, and I had already worn my new favorite Winter sweater eleven hundred times- I was over Winter. It's mostly brutal for a gal like me who hates hates hates to be cold. I'd rather be melting, sweat trickling down the back of my knees any day.

So I feel you, my cold weather friends. I want to share our warmth with you, and remind you that this too shall pass. We will do this all over again next year, and the year after that and the year after that too.
It's like the Merry Go Round.




We have to find beauty in the over and over and over again parts of life. Sometimes I don't think I can handle one more Monday, one more visit to the same park, one more lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwich.



They were so excited to get on.


He looks scared, but that's his- I'm about to jump out of my skin I'm so excited face.





He clung on for dear life.



And then preferred to watch.

And Greyson rode the Merry Go Round over and over and over again. It never got old to him.



Each time was a new and different experience. Each time the bell that signaled the start of the ride went off- his eyes would fill with that perfect mixture of joy and anticipation.






Change is good, but sometimes unavailable. So we must find the beauty hidden in the Merry Go Rounds of life. I think that's a big place where joy likes to hide. If we look close, there's always something new to discover. A new lesson to learn. Something heavy to let go of and a new way to look at the same old thing.


Hope your Monday is filled with the good kind of unexpected.


Love,

Chrissy