This is how I'm feeling tonight.

When your child is born, you can't help but have all kinds of dreams and wishes for them. You wonder things like, will your child be into sports or music? What college will he go to? What will his wife be like?

After autism becomes a part of your life, those questions change drastically.

Forget college, will my child even be able to be in a mainstream classroom? Will he be able to make friends? Will he ever get married?

I took Binker to a birthday party today for a little boy in his class. This boy has not been diagnosed with autism yet, but it seems a lot of the signs are there, and his parents are suspecting it. He and Binker seemed to have a lot of similar characteristics. I can't stop thinking about that little boy, or his family, or my Binker. I can't stop thinking about all of the children and families affected by autism.

When I was young I wasn't allowed to use the phrase "It's not fair". My parents taught me early on that life isn't fair, and I don't care for that saying even now as an adult. But tonight, that's the only thing that keeps going through my mind.

Life isn't fair. Autism isn't fair.

These beautiful children are born into this world, and they deserve every chance and opportunity as anyone else. Yet this disorder interrupts their lives; changes everything. Why? WHY? What is causing this epidemic? 

I feel like so many wonderful things are tainted for me now. Tonight as I sat at our kitchen table having a conversation with Bug, I was enjoying the things that he had to say, and thinking how fun it is that each day I am able to really talk with him more and more. And then this thought crept into my mind: How much would I be able to talk with Binker, if he weren't on the spectrum? What kinds of things would he want to talk about? What interests would he have, and what things would he have to say about the world?

And sometimes when I am playing with Boo, and enjoying his easy smile, I can't help but think back. Did Binker smile this much? Were there signs this early on that I missed? Why didn't I notice something before last year? I kick myself all the time for not getting him into services sooner; if only I'd known.

Earlier this week I was celebrating Binker's progress in speech therapy; it's true, he has come miles from where he was a year ago, and I hope and pray his speed of progress will continue. But tonight I am sad, and just trying so hard to understand why all of these sweet, wonderful children must struggle with ASD. It just isn't fair.

Five Months Old

Baby Boo turns five months old today. I can't believe how quickly the time is passing. He is such a sweet little love, always so happy, and easy-going. In the past few weeks he has come to love his Jumperoo, and adores sitting in his Bumbo Seat or high chair and watching his older brothers. Everything makes him smile, and he is easy to laugh. His hair has really grown, and I love the way I can spike it up in front. He has the sweetest disposition, and we just can't even imagine our lives without our precious third son.

3 Days old

1 month old

2 months old

3 months old

4 months old

5 months old

Bug is THREE!

It's official: I have two 3-year olds. For the next 51 days at least.

My sweet blue-eyed middle son is now three. When did that happen?! Bug, for his part, was ecstatic about his birthday this year. He ate up the attention, the balloons, the birthday cake, the partying, and, of course, the presents. 

Yay, balloons!

Mobigo!

Space shuttle toy

Teeball toy for back yard

Blowing out his candle

"Mommy, clean my fingers!"

Yummy!

Playing with his presents

Tandem tricycle!

Taking it for a spin out front

Birthday sundae at Red Robin

Happy birthday, sweet Bug! We love you to the moon and back.

It's Confirmed

On Tuesday of this week we returned to Seattle Children's Autism Center to meet with a neurologist. He went over the report that was done on Jacob last month, then asked me some more questions. After that, he spoke with Binker for maybe fifteen minutes, having him point to different parts of his body, and give him a high five. Then he tried to get Binker to complete phrases. For example, the neurologist would say, "If fire is hot, then ice is ___", and he would wait for Binker to answer. That was the only part of the interaction that our son really struggled with.

Then the doctor addressed me again. "So today's appointment is the confirmation of diagnosis, and that's what we're doing here. It's confirmed."

And there it was. Two simple words. 

13 months of worrying, and wondering, all led up to that moment. It was surprisingly anticlimactic.

Just as surprisingly, I took it well. Maybe because it was what we had been assuming for so long, so in a way, it was just nice to finally know, for sure. Now, we can truly move forward. The good news is that we're already on the right path, getting Binker the services and therapies he needs. The neurologist said he doesn't believe that Binker requires occupational therapy, but he said we may want to do it, just so that he has yet another opportunity to engage with another person, since his social skills are well below where they should be. The doctor wants to see Binker back in six to nine months, and I feel very motivated to work with him as much as we can, so that they will hopefully be impressed by his improvement at our next appointment.

At one point I asked the doctor is he could be more specific about where Binker is on the spectrum, but he said that since our son is still young, he prefers not to do that since many kids can move up on the spectrum, and some even outgrow their diagnosis altogether.

One last thing we're going to do is have genetic testing done on Binker. The doctor told us that autism can be the result of many things, such as a brain injury, a genetic syndrome, or simply being born with it, (and there are many theories as to what causes that). During the genetic testing, a sample of Binker's blood will be taken and compared to a bunch of known syndromes in the human genome (if this isn't totally correct, I apologize. There was a lot of doctor-speak going on, and I tried my best to keep up). One benefit of this test, is that if it turns out that Binker does have some genetic syndrome, then we would know for future family planning the odds of another child being born with it (oops, too late for that), but also, we would be able to save his doctors some steps, by telling them he has XYZ Syndrome, and then they would know what to expect of Binker. Then again, it may come back that he has no syndrome at all. I have my personal beliefs of what caused his autism, but that can be a controversial subject for some, so I will keep my opinion to myself for now. Regardless, I am interested to see what the genetic test results will say. 

Oh, and apparently as part of the genetic testing, they are able to tell whether or not Husband and I are closely related. I nearly laughed out loud when the neurologist mentioned that part. I mean, how awkward would that be to find out your husband is, like, your fifth cousin? I'm not expecting any surprises like that though.

So, there it is. Binker officially has autism. And life - sometimes sorrowful, but oftentimes sweet - goes on.

Still Here

We're still here.

Life's been crazy as ever these past few weeks, and we've been dealing with a lot of changes, some awesome, some challenging, but we're here, and we're getting through it.

Next Tuesday we will go back to Children's Hospital, to hopefully get the diagnosis we've been seeking for Binker, and we can close that chapter, which I am very anxious to do. In other Binker news, he has been doing a lot more spontaneous speaking lately, which is more exciting than I can truly express. Having him say what's on his mind, and talk about things he sees, or what people are doing, or where things are - these are HUGE steps for him, and it really encourages me that he will continue to build upon this. 

Another thing I am excited about, is that I got a phone number for a hair stylist who works with special needs kids. Binker HATES haircuts. They give him major anxiety, and it is not a fun experience for anyone involved. Because of this, I stopped taking him to actual barber shops a long time ago, and have been giving him haircuts myself. To my great disappointment, I have no natural haircutting skills, and last night was probably my worst one ever. Binker has a bald spot on one part of his head. I sent him to preschool today wearing a hat, along with a note to his teacher asking if she knew anyone who might be able to help me, and to my great joy she did! Now we have a name and phone number, and I am so thrilled I will never be forced to butcher my son's hair again.

Today is an exciting day for our whole family, as Husband will be returning home after five weeks away at school for his new job in the Navy. We have missed him so much, and are beyond happy to have him return to us. I am so proud of all of his hard work, and all that he has accomplished. It has not been easy with him being gone. I am reminded, more than ever, that he is my rock, and my best friend. I am so ready to have him home again.

Bug is talking so much now. It is really fun to have "conversations" with him. I love knowing what's going on in that sweet little head of his. At the same time, it can be bittersweet, because I see how much Bug is talking, and can't help but wonder how much more Binker would be talking, since he is older. But I know there is no use in dwelling on that, so I try not to. I know that Binker is doing great, and he is so bright, and his brain just works differently, and that's okay.

Baby Boo is growing like crazy, and getting cuter every day. He rolled over from tummy to back a couple weeks ago, and he is thisclose to rolling from back to tummy. He keeps trying to sit up on his own, and in only a couple weeks we can begin giving him solid food! Time is just going way too fast with my sweet little babe.

All in all, we are doing great and are staying busy. Hopefully in the weeks to come I will find more time to sit down and write more detailed blogs, but this is it for now. Happy Friday!

Groundbreaking Moments

When we got Binker into speech therapy, he quickly picked up on requesting items. At first, it was very simple two-word phrases, such as "Milk please", or "More please". Those eventually extended into longer phrases, like, "I want milk please", etc. Around that time, Binker learned to express when he liked something. For example, on Easter, (which also happened to be his third birthday), he ate quite a bit of candy soon after waking up and finding his Easter basket, and he said, "I like Easter! I like birthday!" and this past fall, we took a family trip to Great Wolf Lodge, and after only a couple hours there, Binker was all, "I like swimming! I like slides! I like Great Wolf Lodge!"  

His speech somewhat plateaued at this point; excelling at requesting things and letting us know when he liked something, but not much more. Every once in awhile he would say something, simply as commentary, like when I would be feeding the baby, he might come over and say, "Baby is drinking a bottle!", and of course, the ever popular, "The light is on!"

In just the past couple of months though, I have seen some expansion in his speech skills. Where he used to positively melt down when he got frustrated or upset, now he consistently will say "Help me please!", and more and more often, he will even say what is wrong, or what it is he wants.

A new development in his language recently has been in his ability to ask questions and answer them. He never used to answer questions, I mean, it just didn't happen. And then, ever so slowly, he started. I'd still say that the majority of the time, you won't get an answer, but the fact that he can and occasionally does answer, is HUGE. A few nights ago I posted on Facebook an interaction I had with him. Binker came into the room holding a toy train, and I asked, "What did you find", (totally not expecting an answer), and he responded, "I found a train!"

Parents of typically-developed children will probably read over that interaction without a second thought, but for us - for Binker - it was an enormous accomplishment for several reasons. First of all, he was aware of me, and that I was talking to him. Then there is the fact that he answered me, and by turning my question into an response clearly shows that he understood what I was asking him. Also, he used "I" instead of saying his first name, which is something we have been really working on with him, trying to get him to consistently say I or me, versus his name. And lastly, he used a past tense verb when he said "found". I don't think I have ever heard him use past tense before that evening. For months I have been trying to get him to be able to tell me about past events, such as what he does at preschool. Seeing him use past tense, shows me that, through baby steps, he can master the past tense, and one day he will be able to talk to me about things he has done.

Just as exciting as answering questions, is the fact that Binker has started purposefully asking questions too. The other day, Binker was playing with a small basket. At one point I took it away from him, but I didn't know he had put some orange slices in it. He began crying, "Oranges! Oranges!" I had no idea what he was talking about, and then he said, "What happened to the oranges?" He literally stopped me in my tracks. His question was so clear, and purposeful, it took me a few seconds to respond to him, it truly caught me off guard - in a good way!

Also, Binker has really been into playing with these remote-control toys he got for Christmas from my in-laws, one is a school bus and one is a train, they are adorable toys, and he has so much fun with them. He is really good at misplacing his things though, and he usually can't remember where the remote controls for the toys are.  One morning he was looking for them, and he said, "Where is button?" At first I didn't know what he was talking about, but once I figured it out, I told him they were called remotes. The next day, he lost one of them again, and he came to me and said, "Where did remote go?"

So awesome.

This morning, out of the blue, Binker began doing something else, that, to anyone else probably wouldn't even register on their radar: he started addressing me by "Mommy". He has pointed to me before, and said "Mommy", acknowledging that he knows who I am, and he has used the word mommy when talking about me, but he never says, "Hi mommy", or uses mommy when talking to me. 

I cannot tell you how many times I have physically ached, wishing he would call me mommy.

And then, it happened. I had put him in the bathroom to go potty, and went to check on the baby, when I heard, "Mommy! Mommy, where are you?" For a second I was totally caught off guard. 

When you go nearly four years with your child never addressing you as mommy, it is a real shock when it just suddenly happens. And then it happened again. And again! I kept trying to go into the bathroom to do my hair, but each time, Binker would call for me, "Mommy! Mommy!" And then he would come in, grab me by the hand and take me out to the family room with him. One time he even said, "Sit in chair"(!). He was watching The Wiggles, and I think he was wanting me to watch it with him. So sweet!

Lately I feel like it's been a bit of a tug of war game. He will have moments where he gets very frustrated, and won't communicate well, and then I get frustrated and just want to go eat a box of Oreos. 

But, he has also been having these awesome, awesome moments - asking questions, answering questions, and then, calling me mommy. I'm still swooning over that fact. I hope that as the weeks go on, we will have more of these groundbreaking moments for him, and less of the emotional eating-inducing ones. 

It's much better for my waistline.

Making it Official

Over the course of this past year, we have been operating under the assumption that Binker has autism. All of the signs and symptoms are there, and it seems to be the general consensus of two pediatricians, his speech therapist, the school's child psychologist, as well as Binker's preschool teachers. The reason we don't have an official diagnosis yet is because the process of getting one is a little more involved than just one appointment with your child's regular practitioner, it usually requires multiple appointments with specialists in the topic.

Last April, Binker's pediatrician referred us to the Autism Center at Seattle Children's Hospital. We were told it would be about a six month wait before we could expect to get an appointment. September rolled around, and then October. No phone call. November and December passed, and I honestly assumed the hospital had forgotten about us. 

I really wasn't concerned. In fact, I really didn't care. From what I'd been told, getting a diagnosis with them would be just that - a diagnosis. A label. They probably wouldn't offer us any new services, they would simply tell us what we already knew, and send us on our way.

And then, last week, they called me.

Nine months after I initially contacted them, we finally have an appointment for this Wednesday.

I decided to go ahead with it for a few reasons. I know that at some point down the line we will probably need proof of his condition to continue receiving his private services through our health insurance. Also, it will be important to show the military, so that we can ensure our family will never be transferred out of the country, so that Binker always has access to the best therapies and schools. I didn't feel like turning down this appointment, only to have to wait another nine months later on down the road.

I have mixed feelings about the appointment this week. On one hand, I am anxious. I would love to go there, and have them say Binker is developing typically and that they have no concerns whatsoever that he is on the spectrum. I know that won't happen. 

So, I am preparing myself to be told the obvious. And in that way, I am looking forward to what they have to say. I know it may be several appointments before they are able to tell us anything substantive, but when they do, I am looking at it as being more information we will have about our son, and how we can work with him and help him. Hopefully they will tell us we are on the right path, and perhaps they will have suggestions of additional things we can do.

Either way, it should be interesting to see how this all plays out, and exactly what the evaluation and diagnosing process involves. I'm sure this will be an interesting part of our journey, stay tuned.

Señora in the Moon

I have to say that I consider myself pretty lucky as far as husbands go. Mine never asks to go out to the bar with the boys, he doesn't go hunting, or off to sports games, leaving me at home to take care of the kids. As long as we've been together, if he is not at work, he is at home, with me. 

His hobby is playing video games, which, as nice as it is having him consistently be just down the hall, I admit that I do at times feel like I'm married to a teenage boy. Aside from Mario Brothers 2, I've never understood the allure of video games or how they are entertaining enough to play for hours on end. 

Husband has always been good about making time for me though. Clearly, we had three children in four years. But we think it's important that our relationship be a priority, and so we try to get alone time together whenever we can. Our main activities though, were watching movies on Netflix, and making babies.

Until now.

     So baby, I think we need to do some kind of an activity together. You know, 
     join a class like mountain climbing or cage fighting, or something. I'm open.

    ....That's really not my thing. Plus, I'm pretty sure this is just those two glasses
     of wine you had talking.

     No, no, I'm for real. I want to spend more time with you, and I think it would 
     be good for us to try something new. Ok, so it doesn't have to be self defense, 
     what if we...learned a foreign language together? 

That sounded much more my style. Learning a new language with my husband? I imagined us out for a romantic dinner, gazing into each other's eyes, speaking in some romantic tongue like Italian, or French, or maybe even Hebrew. Something different and exotic. Yes, very romantic. I was on board.

I pulled up the Rosetta Stone website, and Husband and I began going over their list of languages offered. 

     Now, we could do French, that's a very lovely, romantic language. Or, we could
     take Italian, since we want to go to Italy someday, and I can't think of anything
     more romantic than walking through the streets of Italy, speaking the native
     language to one another. What do you think, my darling?

     No, no, no...hmmm. We need something useful, something that can be used to 
     our advantage against our enemies in battle. Now we could always take 
     Russian, but I think that Chinese would be better suited here. I mean, no one 
     knows Chinese. Think of what an asset I would be to the Navy if I learned 
     Chinese! Or we could always do Tagalog. Some guy on my ship was Filipino 
     and he taught me a swear word, so I've already got a little background in the 
     language.

Don't get me wrong, I love me some Chinese Buffet, but hard as I tried, I could not picture anything romantic about Richard and me speaking Chinese back and forth to one another. We discussed it a bit more, and in the end, we decided on Spanish. I know, not exactly exciting, but we figured we would be able to get the most use out of that language. I mean, we're only a few blocks away from a Mexican restaurant, where we can test out our new language. 

Plus, I love margaritas and tamales, so, added bonus right there.

     Okay, so we're agreed on Spanish. Order that shiz, baby!

     All right...but are you sure you want to do this? I mean, it's not cheap. So I
     don't want you to wake up in the morning and be all, yeah, that was the wine
     talking, I didn't mean for you to spend almost $200 on materials to learn
     another language.

     No way Jose, I am down to learn some español! See? I already sound like a 
     natural. Let's do this!

So this should be fun, getting to spend some time, every night together, learning a new skill. I am really excited.

I just hope Husband doesn't wake up tomorrow and change his mind, otherwise we'll have a ton of Spanish learning materials that will just sit in our house collecting dust, and I'll be stuck ordering Mexican food in boring old English for the rest of my life.

Figuring it Out

I pulled into the parking spot, and that's when I saw her. A woman standing behind a table with the words Autism Awareness on a large sign. She was collecting donations for the cause.

I could feel my heart beating faster. In the past, I would have had no problem giving a quick, polite smile and hurrying into the store, or simply avoiding eye contact like I do with the Girl Scouts every year when it's cookie season time. But something inside me said I couldn't ignore her, as all of the other patrons appeared to be doing. I knew I had to go talk to her.

I approached her table, and she started softly rattling off her memorized lines that she had probably said to a dozen people that evening, without any response. 

When she finished, I smiled and said, "My son has autism". I could hear my voice shaking as the words came out. I forced myself to take a deep breath, to steady myself.

I have literally said those words a handful of times. And definitely never to a stranger. I think those words every day; I live them. Still, they sounded foreign coming out of my mouth, stopping me in my tracks.

The woman's eyes brightened a bit. She handed me a pamphlet on autism, and asked if I had read it. I told her no, and took it, although I knew what it would say. I've read dozens of pamphlets and internet articles on autism; I would be surprised to learn something new at this point. I spotted a donation box filled with some dollar bills, and I told her I would see if I could get some cash while in the store.

Even though I finally opened up about Binker's diagnosis on my blog here, I know that I still keep a lot of it internalized. I don't walk around with a sign on me that reads, "I have a child with autism". To most, I smile and say everything is great, and, honestly, as I wrote about, things are very good. The progress he made this past year is amazing, and I know he will continue to do so, but there are difficult days - when he is overly tired, when he gets frustrated at a toy, or scared in the night but is unable to explain why - and then everything just melts down. During those times, I feel like I am walking on egg shells around my child. Trying so hard to stay one step ahead of him - trying to anticipate what he will want - so that he doesn't get even more upset. 

I feel uncomfortable when we're out in public and strangers will try to talk to him. They ask him questions, like how old he is, how many siblings he has, is he excited about the new baby, what's his name. They always look a bit perplexed when Binker doesn't answer, or he repeats the question they just asked, or he answers by saying something like, "The light is on!" While looking at the ceiling lights. I always try to answer for him, or make some excuse about him being shy.  

On one hand, it would be so easy to just tell everyone we come in contact with up front that Binker has autism, but on the other hand, I don't want that to be the first thing people know about him.

We left Binker's first pediatrician, who initially got us on this path, because I did not appreciate his bed side manner with Jacob, or the way in which he handled the situation as a whole, but there was one thing he told us that I have tried to keep as my mantra this past year. When we were in his office, and we knew we would have to wait to get in to see the speech therapist, and any specialists, I felt so helpless. There is nothing worse than wanting to help your child, and not being able to take immediate action. I asked the doctor what we should do in the meantime. His answer: Treat him like a typical kid, just as you would if he didn't have autism. 

I have done my best to treat him the same as I treat his brothers. Obviously there are times when I cut him some slack, when I don't think he fully understands what it is we're telling him, or asking of him, but for the most part, he is treated just like any typical three year old boy. That's how I see him, too. To me, he is my sweet, funny, bright, lovable firstborn son. Who just happens to have autism.

It was nice to be able to open up to that woman at the store, almost cathartic in a way. But at the end of the day, I want the world to see Binker the way I see him. Just wonderful and awesome, the way God made him. 

I guess I'm still figuring this all out as we go.

Hoarding, revisited.

Okay.

I just opened the garbage can in our kitchen and something caught my eye, something that didn't belong in there: clothes. And toys. And a sippy cup. And a baby monitor. All stuffed into a grocery bag, and thrown into the garbage can. It took me about .2 seconds to finger the culprit.

Bug. My hoarder.

I wrote about his hoarding habit before, almost a year ago, and since then, he has only gotten worse. He hoards everything - and I mean everything - from rubber balls, to mittens, to hair curlers, to scraps of paper he finds on the floor, to the toilet paper roll holder thingy. And he will hoard these items into whatever he can find, such as the DVD cabinet, cardboard boxes, clothes hampers, shoes, animal cracker boxes, his backpack, and his favorite, the grocery bag.

For your enjoyment, and as a way to maintain my sanity, (because I mean, really, at this point, it's either laugh at it or lose my mind), I have taken some photos of places I have discovered his hoarding piles.

Yeah, that's a paper towel roll.

Okay, this one is fun. Not only did he hoard small items into each of those red stocking hats, but then he hoarded the hats and his dinosaur into his high chair. He is hoarding his hoarded items. It's like Inception for hoarders, OMG.

Hoarding in his shoes. Really?

This past weekend though, I believe took the prize. I needed to use the bathroom, but when I opened the door, I was met with this:

Yes, that is correct. He hoarded in the toilet. And upon fishing the items out of the toilet, what kinds of treasures did we find? Well, for starters, about 50 plastic travel place mats (there goes $5.00 I'll never get back), the toilet paper holder, a red Santa bag from Target (the same one that is pictured about six photos up), and a baby shoe. Husband and I were holding our breath the entire time until we reached the bottom and confirmed that (THANK GOD), Bug had not attempted to flush the toilet with all of that stuff in there.

Oh, and as a side note, I just want to give a shout-out to the Lid-Lok toilet lock company for making just one more "child-proof" item that I have trouble using, yet my toddlers can - not only open - but also remove without difficulty. It's on the same list as child-proof doorknobs, and child-proof dishwasher locks. Am I smarter than a toddler? Apparently not.

A few weeks ago, I got so concerned over Bug's unstoppable hoarding that I Googled it. I was surprised to read that apparently many toddlers engage in this behavior, as it is their way of taking control over something, like their toys, in a world where they don't have much control. These articles also warned against trying to stop the child, claiming it is harmless behavior, and that if you try to stop them from doing it, it will only lead to unnecessary tantrums.

Now, I am all about avoiding tantrums, but in all my years I have never heard of toddler hoarding, and I find it hard to believe that it is that common of a thing. Is anyone else out there dealing with this issue? Even on a much smaller scale?

Please tell me I'm not alone, otherwise I am calling TLC. If I can't stop Ryan from hoarding, maybe we can at least we can get some celebrity out of it.

Anchors Away

Four years, six months and two days ago, I woke up at 4:45am, ready to head to the pier at Naval Station Everett for work, to welcome home the sailors from the USS Rodney M. Davis. I had no idea my entire life would change that day.

Somewhere in bachelor housing on the base, Husband was waking up, in a bad mood. This was to be his first day aboard the Davis, the ship he'd been assigned to. It was his first sea duty assignment, and he was not looking forward to it. He had no idea that a day he thought would be not so great, turned into one of the best days of his life.

I was organizing our booth on the pier, when I looked up to find myself staring into the most beautiful set of green eyes I'd ever seen in my life. It was only for a second though, the handsome sailor was passing by our table when our eyes met, and then he continued on. I grabbed my boss, Julie, and said "Oh my gosh, did you see that guy's eyes? They were gorgeous!"

I couldn't stop thinking about how handsome he'd been. I'd worked at several Naval homecomings before, and had never looked at a single sailor; I simply wasn't interested in dating someone in the military. But there was something about this one, I felt drawn to him. He was with a small group of other sailors, waiting to meet the ship, and they hung close to our table. He and I kept making eye contact and smiling shyly at one another. Finally, I saw him standing alone, this was my chance. I walked over, and asked him how long it would be before the sailors disembarked from the ship. He and I began talking, and before we knew it, we were sharing our life stories - where we each grew up, and information about our families. I found out that the day before had been his 23rd birthday, he was the same age as me. 

After about 15 minutes he said, "I'm Richard, by the way." I told him my name, and we shook hands. He got a cute smile on his face, and said, "So, can I get your number?"

Three hours later he called me. We went on our first date that night, and three weeks after that first date, he proposed. The rest is history. 

Our entire relationship, up to this point, has coincided with Husband's time on his ship. So many important moments in our life together have revolved around the ship's schedule. We couldn't take longer than a two day honeymoon because they were scheduled to ship out the Monday after we got married. The ship was in San Diego when Binker was born, so Husband had to take two weeks of leave so he would be home for his birth. And it was a miracle that Husband was granted emergency leave to come home for Bug's birth, since his ship was on a six month deployment when he was born. I have traveled to San Diego numerous times to visit him on the many trips his ship has taken down there. Before we met, I had never even been to San Diego, now I consider it to be one of my favorite cities. 

We've never been able to makes plans very far out, as the ship's schedule could be unpredictable, and always subject to change.

But all of that ends today.

Today is Husband's very last day on the ship. His tour of duty with them is over, after four and a half years. I don't even want to know how many days from those four and a half years we spent apart. I could try to figure it out, but that's just depressing. My guess would be at least half. There were the two deployments, equaling over a year's time, and dozens of underways, which ranged from a couple days' time, to a couple months.

While he was on the Davis though, he accomplished so much. When we met, Husband was a Seaman, he has since been promoted twice to Petty Officer, 2nd Class. He obtained his ESWS Pin two years ago, after extensive studying and testing. He was a member of the VBSS team, and while on the ship he earned a Navy Achievement Medal. We are beyond proud of his many successes. He is the hardest working sailor I know, and has been entrusted with numerous leadership responsibilities. But he is burnt out. Four and half years at sea is exhausting, and I know that these next few years off, in his new position will be a good relief for him. Selfishly, I am looking forward to no duty days and no deployments for a few years. I am so excited to have him home every night, on a somewhat regular schedule. 

It's weird to think that there will be no more 5am alarms to wake up to, no more days without him coming home. This is the only life I have known with my husband, but I am very excited for the next chapter to begin, and see where it takes us.

Living on the Spectrum

Sitting in the pediatrician's office that evening I felt sick. My stomach was in knots, my throat dry. I knew that tears were not far away, but I did my best to appear strong and composed, as though I had it together. I wanted to make sure I asked questions, and listened - really listened - to the doctor's answers. 

I couldn't stop staring at the piece of paper he held in front of us as he explained the situation we were facing. He said there were several red flags, based on the questionnaire I had filled out about our eldest son.

Loss of speech.

Poor eye contact.

Toe walking.

Jumping. Hand flapping.

No imaginary play. Solitary play.

The doctor refused to make a diagnosis then and there, but in his opinion, Jacob appeared to be exhibiting signs of autism.

Autism.

It was like the world came out from under me. Driving home that night, Husband and I didn't say much. We had so many thoughts and emotions we were trying to process. This had all happened so suddenly. Only a month before, we thought we had a typically-developing two year old, who was picking up new words every day. Then in mid-January we noticed he wasn't talking anymore. At all. In fact, our middle son, 10 months younger than Jacob, was talking more than he was. We knew something wasn't right.

It's been a busy and involved road since that night in the pediatrician's office almost a year ago: Speech therapy, occupational therapy, restrictive diet, dietary supplements, special ed preschool that focuses on speech delays. Lots of prayer.

It's taken me this long to feel ready to talk about it. Until now, I've only shared this part of our lives with a select few. My biggest concern has been that people will treat Jacob differently, or label him. I have said from the beginning, no matter what, autism may be something he has, but it will not be who he is. 

Now though, now that I have some perspective, I am excited to write about our journey. I won't lie. In the beginning, before the therapies started, before I really educated myself about the autism spectrum, I had a lot of fears. There were many days when I literally collapsed onto the floor crying, completely unsure of what my son's future looked like, now that autism was most likely a part of it.

We believe Jacob has what is known as regressive autism, meaning that for approximately the first 2 years, 8 months of his life, he was developing typically, there was no reason for us to be concerned. And then, without warning, he began regressing: losing language, not making eye contact with us, or responding to us; disappearing into his own "world". He began jumping a lot and flapping his hands, also known as "stimming". He would carry out repetitive actions.

This past year though, Jacob has made amazing progress. He went from not using any words, to regularly speaking in four-word sentences. He is beginning to ask "W" questions. He uses imaginary play on a daily basis. He can make choices when given options. His eye contact is stellar, and he often engages with other people. He is awesome at following directions. He knows the entire alphabet - recognizes each letter, knows the sound each letter makes, and can tell you a word that starts with each letter. He can count to 30, and I have lost track of the number of songs he knows by heart.

To someone else, these may all seem very simple, but watching my son learn and master these skills has been amazing for our family. I have watched him struggle so many times; frustrated when he doesn't have the words to express what he is feeling or thinking. So with each new step and task learned, I consider it one more crack in the process of breaking into his world. 

Our focus will remain what it has been this year. Keep pushing Jacob, keep supporting him, keep getting him the services and assistance he needs to continue building on the skills he has learned, and continue expanding his speech. Our ultimate goal at this time, is to have him in a regular classroom by the time he starts kindergarten. I believe he can do it, and we are committed to making it happen.

From now on, I will occasionally be sharing parts of our journey and experiences we have while going through this. I can't wait to see where Jacob will be 6-, 12-, 18-months down the line. I know he will only get better and better.

That January night, sitting across from the pediatrician, the last word that would have come to my mind was Joy. And even though we definitely have struggles and hard days, I have to say that seeing my son learn so much has brought me immense joy. Every little accomplishment is a reason to celebrate. I have also learned that some of my favorite parts of Jacob's personality are probably related to his autism; he wouldn't be the same boy he is without. And I wouldn't change him for anything.

On birthing a 10 pound baby, and other reasons I am done having kids.

             
                 No more kids for me!!

That was the first text I sent after having Boo.

Don't get me wrong. I adore him. The moment I saw him, I fell instantly in love. I kept saying "He's perfect, he's so perfect!"

But.

Between having a nearly-10 pound baby, and receiving a jacked up epidural that only worked on HALF of my body? I can easily say that giving birth to him was the single most painful experience of my life. I told Husband it's a good thing that our first son's birth wasn't that painful or we would have stopped at one kid. 

Obviously Boo was worth all of the pain, but I cringe whenever I think about the experience of having him. And the idea of doing it again is enough to terrify me right into a hysterectomy appointment.

My mom and grandma told me that I am going to jinx myself if I say "no more kids", but from where I stand right now, it would take a miracle for me to change my mind. Plus, as much as I love our new house, I don't know where we would put a fourth kid. I don't even know if I could mentally keep track of four kids.

So, for the time being I am going to love and enjoy the three healthy babies I've got. Whether or not we ever have another child, I will consider myself to be incredibly blessed. Life is so good. These three sweet faces remind me of that every day.

Introducing...

Baby Boo.

 

Born October 30th, at 9:43pm.

 

9 pounds, 13 ounces. 

21 inches long.

Perfect in every way.

The Waiting Game

A week ago I was certain I was just moments away from going into labor.

Yet here I sit. Another week bigger. More uncomfortable than ever. Sleep? What's that? 

Five days ago I was 3cm dilated and 80% effaced, (if you don't know what any of that means I will just let you Google it). Since then, I have walked every day, sometimes twice a day, and cleaned my house obsessively, expecting my water to break or contractions to come on with every passing hour. I just don't even understand how I am still pregnant with as much as I have been on my feet. Apparently baby is really comfortable I guess, so I have resigned myself to the fact that he will come when he is good and ready, and until then, we will all just have to wait.

If one more person asks me when I am going to have this baby though, I might lose it.

Husband is the worst offender of all. When he is at work, he calls every hour, asking if my water has broken yet. As if I wouldn't let him know. Like I'm gonna call him up a few hours later and be all, "Surprise! I had a baby! Didn't want to bother you at work though, so I just thought I'd keep it to myself."

I know that baby will eventually arrive though, even though these last few days (weeks?) may feel like an eternity. I am just so excited to meet him, and hold him, and see his sweet little face for the first time. I can only hope that my next post will include a photo of our newest family member.

Home Sweet Home

This past Monday, our sale officially closed, and this house, became ours.

Our very first home. All our own. No more rent checks, no more landlords.

Of course, that means that when the plumbing decides to act up, or there's a rat in the attic at 3am (heaven forbid), there is also no landlord to call to come deal with it. But, there is such a sense of pride and satisfaction in owning our own house.

The week before we found this house, there was another one we thought we wanted. We had been working with a Realtor at the time, and it was the nicest home we'd seen up to that point (read: no appliances had been ripped out and there were no domestic violence-esque holes in doors). Also, it appeared to be in a really nice neighborhood, something else we had not found. We decided it was as good as we were going to be able to find, even though it was a bit more than we originally wanted to pay. We told our Realtor on Saturday that we wanted to make an offer. He told us he would draw up the papers, and we could officially make an offer that Thursday - oh, and to bring a $5,000 check with us as earnest money deposit. Now, I'm not going to get into specifics of our finances and whatnot, but we are a single-income family, with two kids, one on the way. We don't have very much in the way of disposable income, so when the Realtor said "Five thousand dollars", I literally almost started laughing. I thought for sure he had to be kidding. He knew we were looking to go with a VA loan - no money down, and $5,000 sounded as good as a down payment in my mind.

Richard and I exchanged awkward glances, telepathically asking each other, Is this guy serious?

The guy shifted, and said, "Okay, at least a thousand then."

Another awkward exchange of glances.

The realtor raised his eyebrows, "You have to show them that you're serious about buying, you have to give them something."

We promised to arrive on Thursday with a $1,000 check, although neither one of us knew where we were going to find that money over the next five days.

During the drive home, our excitement over having just made our first offer on a house faded into uncertainty and frustration. We began to feel that maybe we just weren't able to buy a home; maybe this was something that was still very much out of reach for our young family at this time. By the time we got home, 45 minutes later, I wrote an email to our realtor telling him we had changed our mind on the offer, and that we just didn't think we could buy a home now. Essentially, we broke up with him.

The following weekend my parents had been driving around, when they came across a house that was for sale by owner. They got a flier, spoke briefly to the sellers, whom they said were super friendly, and then they passed the information along to us. We thought the flier looked great, although we were still feeling very skeptical from the brief house hunting experience we'd had. The next day we went to check it out, and, as they say, the rest is history.

Looking back now, I am so glad we didn't stick with that first house. Aside from the financial issues we were faced with up front, I realize now that we were going to sacrifice a lot. The house was a good 35 minutes from the school Jacob now goes to. So either I would have had to change and dress three little kids four mornings a week, to get Jacob to school on time, or he would have had to change districts, which we really did not want to do, since the one he is in has such a fantastic reputation. Also, the backyard of that house, while gated, left much to be desired. It was quite small, without much of a yard to speak of at all. The inside of the house was nice enough, but there wasn't any sort of designated playroom, and the family room wouldn't have accommodated all of their toys, plus our furniture. And, to top it off, we were going to pay way over our budget for the house, that, in hindsight, was just so-so.

The house we ended up purchasing? It's perfect, if I may say so. I have so many visions for this house. The backyard, in particular. I think our boys will love spending long summer days out in the fenced yard running, playing, chasing, rough housing, imagining. It is the perfect yard for kids. There is already a swingset, and I would like to add a slide onto it. There is also a seriously awesome tree, that is pretty wide with a low center - the perfect kind of tree for a tree house of some sort, so we are going to get to work building something like that next summer. There is a large deck, which I envision us having barbecues and drinks on while we watch the kids run around in the grass. I am so beyond thrilled about our new home, it really has all of the things that we wanted when we first set out on the house hunt a few months ago. And it was just too ironic that within days of us becoming discouraged, and believing there was no way we could afford a home, we found the one that met all of our needs, and was within our budget. I firmly believe God had his hand on us, guiding us to that house, knowing it was the perfect one for us and our three boys.

Now all that's left to do is pack up our things and prepare for the big move!

Being an adult sucks.

I had a realization today: It kind of sucks being an adult.

There is so much responsibility, and bills to pay, and little people who rely on you for every need from feeding them to wiping their butts. I think back to when I was in college, my parents paid my tuition, dorm/apartment fees, cafeteria/grocery bills, and even the gas for my car. Whatever money I made working I got to spend on clothes or late night trips to Wal Mart.

I thought I was suuuuch an adult. And I thought it was awesome. Wow, I had no clue what being an adult was really about.

It just seems like lately we can't catch a break. For a couple months leading up to the financing of the house we just bought (Yay! Exciting!), we were literally scraping by. It seemed like every two weeks, right before pay day we would be down to $55 in our checking account, meticulously planning who really needed to put gas in their car, and how important diapers are.

Then we closed on the house, and things shifted in our favor. For a change we had extra money in our account. We were planning to pay off the credit card, and put some in savings. It felt so good to be on the other side of things financially for a change.

For a whole five days.

Then this morning we found out that my car, our "good" car, and the only one with enough seats for our all of our family members (read: kind of an important vehicle), needed new front brakes, rotors, and dry belt.

It was currently being serviced for the 60,000 mile check, so I asked the Toyota service rep how much he thought the final cost would be for the servicing, plus replacement of the above mentioned parts.

$1,200 American dollars.

My heart sunk. Are you kidding me?? Couldn't we enjoy our financial stability just a little bit longer? Not to mention, that I could go into labor any day, so we don't really have the time to be without our car that holds all of the car seats. Sigh.

The fact is though, we need to keep that car in good shape, it is vital that that car does not totally die on us, or decide to lose its breaks on the freeway. Thankfully, there is a bright side to this story. We were able to find a local automotive repair place who gave us a quote much below Toyota's, so thank goodness for that. This is just life though; it's all part of being an adult and dealing with the issues that come along with having a family and owning cars and homes.

But can everything else please stay in good working order for at least another six months?!

10 Years Later

On September 11th, 2001, I was addicted to my No Doubt Return of Saturn CD. I had it on repeat in my car; I didn't bother turning on the radio on the way to school. It was the second week of my senior year of high school. Life was simple.

I made my way to the building where my first class was, probably around 7:40 in the morning. I saw a group of people huddled around a TV. I realized that something was happening, but had no clue what. Our teacher let us watch the news for maybe 15 minutes, before forcing us to our studies. I remember that whole day was filled with lots of questions, and confusion, until I got home and was able to really get caught up on the horror of what had unfolded earlier that morning in New York, Washington D.C., and Pennsylvania.

I was a 17 year old girl. 

So naive. 

I clearly remember thinking on the afternoon of the attacks, that we would never know who was responsible for them. At that time, I knew nothing of terrorists, or Al Qaeda. I equated the acts of 9/11 with murder, and in my mind, murderers usually try to hide who they are, to save their own skin. It was beyond my comprehension that anyone would actually claim responsibility or take credit for the villainous acts of that day. 

How my eyes were opened.

I was at an age where I was old enough to fully comprehend what had happened, and how terribly tragic it was. At the same time though, it was my first real exposure to anything so horrific. It was jarring.

So much death. So much loss.

I was beginning my senior year of high school; was this the world I was about to enter as an adult? Because I wanted none of it.

I can never stand up and say that my life was personally affected by what happened on September 11th, 2001. I didn't lose any loved ones, I didn't even know anyone who lived on the east coast at that time.  I know that the significance of that day to me, is eclipsed by the thousands and thousands of families and friends who did lose close ones on 9/11.

Yet, the words 9/11 will always feel like a bruise on my heart. Our country was irrevocably changed that day, and I think that most Americans share my sentiments toward it. Even if we weren't affected personally, we still take that attack personally, as U.S. citizens. And I believe it is something that will be hard for those to understand who did not live through it - my children, for instance. September 11th will simply be something they learn about in history class - it will be far away - removed from them. 

The day after the attacks, a beloved middle school teacher of mine died in a plane crash while on vacation in Mexico. The news was an added assault to the fragile state that I, and many of my classmates were in. To our young minds, it seemed the world was suddenly filled with evil and injustice. Good people die, and bad people triumph? I couldn't make sense of it.

The afternoon of September 12th, I sat in our back yard, in the sunshine. It was such a beautiful day, but it felt so wrong. It was as if someone forgot to tell the sun not shine; too many people were hurting.

My dad came outside, and started talking to me. I think he could see that I was hurt, afraid, and confused. After a while, he picked a rose from our yard, a lovely shade of pink. He handed it to me, and said, "This is something beautiful that God has made. There is still beauty in the world, and you need to hold on to that."

I have never forgotten what he said. There is pain in life, this is something that I have learned tenfold since that day ten years ago; but beauty does remain. Good remains. Oftentimes it is right in front of us, we just need to open our eyes to see it.

My heart will always break when I think of September 11th, 2001. So many dreams never reached, so many innocents taken from this earth, so many lives forever changed.

One lesson stands out though: that life is short. So very short. I try to hug my children a little longer (when they let me), and memorize how their faces look as they lay sleeping in their beds at night. Every day I kiss my husband, and tell him that I love him before he leaves for work in the morning. None of us know which day will be our last. No one can change the events of 10 years ago, and no one can prevent whatever tragedies may lay ahead. But I try to to hold onto faith and hope, and believe that through it all there is still goodness in the world.

Love your family, hold them tight. Enjoy every beautiful moment with them.

Future Home

As I mentioned several weeks ago, Husband and I have been hoping to buy a house of our own, now that we know we will be in the same area for another few years. And now it seems as though this may just become a reality for us.

We began the house hunting search, and saw our fair share of repos and foreclosures. While their price tags were attractive, we typically found that once we got into the homes, something was wrong. There were holes in doors and walls, appliances were missing, fixtures had been ripped out; the houses were usually stripped. We wanted to find something in our price range, but not a house that would need major repair or work done, because A) We don't have that kind of money, and B) Even if we did, neither one of us is talented enough to fix up a house.

To be honest, we were getting a little discouraged, afraid we would have to keep renting. And while we'd be thankful to simply have a roof over our heads regardless of whether or not it is "ours", we just hate the idea of throwing our money away each month.

And then we found The House.

It is about 20 minutes from where we live now, which will significantly cut down on Husband's commute to work. It is within walking distance to grocery stores and restaurants - this was important to me, since the nearest grocery store right now is a seven minute drive. The house is in immaculate condition, the current owners have really cared for it, and that was truly the biggest selling point of all - it doesn't appear to need any work. That, and the fact that it is in a quiet, safe cul de sac; the neighborhood of choice for young families. After our first viewing of the house, I couldn't help but get excited picturing our family living there, playing in the large back yard, the boys trick-or-treating in the neighborhood. It just felt right.

Going through the whole offer/counter offer process was not fun - I definitely do not have the personality for bargaining like that, and to make it worse, the sellers are really nice people, so I felt bad every time we would counter. In the end though, we all came to an agreement, and now the big stuff begins. I honestly have no idea how long the whole escrow process will take, or how complicated it will be.

And while we've been pre-approved for a loan, we have yet to decide which loan we actually want to commit to. I have been desperately trying to educate myself on different types of loans, APR's, PMI's, points, funding fees, etc. I have interest rates written all over the house - on scraps of paper, and the sides of Kleenex boxes. You can literally see the chaos that is happening in my brain right now.

Still, this whole process is exciting, and when I start to feel overwhelmed by it all, I just close my eyes, and envision our family living in our very first home together and that always helps. I can't wait for the day we get our keys and get to move in and make it all our own.

Today

Today, life is great.

My sons are running around playing. Their smiles are big and warm, and their laughter is genuine, in the way that only the laughter of children can be. They are healthy, and growing bigger every day. They make me happier than I could ever truly express.

The new baby is kicking more and more often. I felt the first big outside kick two nights ago, and quickly put Husband's hand on my stomach and he felt a kick immediately after. It doesn't matter how many children we have, those kicks never get old. We constantly marvel at the miracle that this, and each baby is.

My husband works so hard for our family, and he has made so many sacrifices for our sake. Tonight he will come home, and we will share our nightly routine of laying on our bed, watching Netflix shows on TV. Right now we are hooked on Glee and Sons of Anarchy. (Oh, but don't tell anyone on my husband's ship that he watches Glee, they're still giving him crap about the time he watched The Notebook with me).

Life is just good right now. It always is, but we have so much to be thankful for at this time, and so much to be happy about.

Growing up, I always wanted a husband who would be my best friend, and I always wanted to be a stay at home mom to my kids. To be able to wake up every day, and live that dream, is so sweet. Sure, there are days that can be messy and sticky and stressful, but I wouldn't want my life any other way. I am blessed beyond measure and so excited for what the future holds for our family.