It ends.

With the end of today comes the end of a long, very defining chapter in my life.

It started with trauma, weeks after I had buried my father and he wouldn't be alone. His mother and brother followed him, as did my mom's mom. I've met new people, made new friends, seen new places, created a life for myself that is all my own. Three children have come out of my body. Three beautiful, perfectly formed little babies. My heart has broken and mended itself again and again. I have learned. I have grown. Fears have been conquered. Dreams have come true and dreams have been shattered, laid to rest forever.

The sun sets tonight and I say 'Goodbye' to my twenties. Ten years of life doesn't seem like so much, until you really think about all that has happened in that time. Ten years can be forever. Ten years can be a lifetime.

Ten years ago, I was a wholly different person. No kids. No responsibilities. I had no idea the road I was heading down. I couldn't see what the future held; none of us really can, I don't think. I was lost in a fog of grief, struggling to find something, anything, to hold on to, to cling to, to give me a reason to want to live.

Then I had Him. The wound my father's death gave me wasn't healed but the day Phoenix was born, I found life again. This tiny, wriggling little being had grown inside me, been made by me but I knew he was a gift. I made a promise to always be the best I could be for him, to do the best by him I could and to always be there for him, no matter what.

I took on new responsibilities, got a real job, for a little while; I grew confident and learn to love myself. I made choices and I made mistakes. I gave up on working to stay at home and made another one of those three beautiful boys. I uprooted our growing family and said goodbye to the city that had raised me, said goodbye to 26 years of memories and the friends I'd made. I grew even more and discovered you never stop learning about yourself when you are honest with yourself.

I made a home in a new city, in a new state. I became more comfortable with myself, admitted I had faults (and still do) and looked for solutions to my problems. I was finally able to get Phoenix the help he desperately needed and as a reward, I've watched him flourish & blossom. Paxton has grown into a wonder-filled, curious little boy and I am cherishing every second of #3's babyhood. Korben is seven months old and even more energetic than Paxton was at this age; he fits into the family as if he was always here & you know, I'm inclined to think he may have been.

I know there is a lot more to come but I'm sad to see this part of my life end, sort of anyways. The next ten years will hold some of the same: growth, love and learning; there will be more heartache and stresses to overcome. I will see these boys grow into young men and I'm sure I will "earn" many more gray hairs.

As I close this chapter, I know I've already started the next & this one won't really end with the setting sun. It just continues, just as life continues.

I will keep being me, just an older, wiser me.

The Return

I might be overdoing it a bit when I say it feels like I've completed some sort of epic, Iliad-like quest but I'm saying it anyways. 

This having a baby thing was IS crazy-hard!

I think we're finding our groove again but it's still a work in progress for sure. Life is always difficult when a new baby comes home, I just managed to forget how difficult it can be those first few weeks. In this case, it wasn't the baby that was challenging; it was everything else. 

Dealing with two older kids, a house & a business on top of a baby was what I hadn't really planned for. I mean, I knew I was going to have to do it; I just didn't think it would be as impossible as it was... Thankfully, I think the hardest part is behind us and OMG, is this baby adorable! 

He's almost three months old now. Phoenix & Paxton are getting used to him, although Phoenix isn't as interested in him as Paxton is. I think it's harder for Phoenix because he is the oldest; he knows now that another baby means less attention for himself and he's determined to make sure he doesn't get left out, even if it means getting into trouble. Negative attention is still attention, right? And if you can get the whole family to stop, you get a lot of attention. We're working on learning to explain how we feel and exploring what makes us feel the way we do. It's a hard concept for anyone to grasp; it's even harder for a seven year old with processing issues to understand. 

Paxton, on the other hand, is doing fabulously. He's adjusted much better than I had expected. No major regressions; no real jealousy over Korben; no behavior problems at school. He's had a few moments of dislike when I need to take Korben with us to lay down for nap (which I totally get: that's our us time) but he's pretty much in love with his little brother. He's doing really well in preschool & his speech is getting better every day. He's farther along at this age than Phoenix was so I'm hopeful he'll be caught up in another year or two; he's even spelling words, including his name!

Jay's been working non-stop; no maternity leave for the self-employed dad. Wah wah wah. We had his Grammy with us for a week or so after Korben came home & there have been a few visits from family but for the most part, we've been on our own. Jay works as much as possible, booking rentals on the weekends and any open weekdays. Which leaves me alone with the three kids a lot. Yes, it's my job as a SAHM but that doesn't mean it's sunshine & roses 24/7. Especially with a newborn, two older-but-still-dependant kids and a house to maintain. Keeping us all fed, clothes & bathed has been a challenge, to put it lightly. Something to do with a baby constantly latched to a boob, I dunno...

I'll admit I've learned to do so many things with one hand or while breastfeeding. In fact, I should probably get a medal or something, for real. Physically, I'm back to the old me. Scratch that. I'm back to a version of old me but one that has BOOBS. Yup, one perk to breastfeeding when you've got smaller-than-average chesticules and I am enjoying them immensely. Getting back to myself, mentally & emotionally, has been harder. That whole perception-meets-reality conundrum. Things just weren't what I thought they would be. They still aren't and they probably will never be. That's the thing with perceptions; even when they are yours, they aren't always right. 

I'm coming to terms with my new reality, getting used to things & finding a balance that works for us, building a new routine. I'll fill you in on all that's happened between this post and my last over a few posts but this will have to satisfy you for now. You can put your mind at ease and finally breathe a sigh of relief:

I am back.

Into the future...

On Monday, we went in for the ultrasound that would hopefully tell us what gender baby is. Well, it did exactly that and we found out we are expecting baby boy #3. While I had been holding out the tiniest shred of hope there would not, in fact, be a penis attached to my fetus, I knew deep-down we'd find one. And you know what? 

I am okay with it. 

Yup. That's a penis.

I posted on my Facebook page awhile back that I was trying to get into the "it's a boy" mindset because I had a feeling that's what we'd find out and I wanted to avoid total & utter disappointment. Yes, I am slightly bummed there won't be a little girl in the house. I won't have hair to braid and when I paint nails now, people will look at me funny but it didn't take long to get used to my new reality. I am quickly becoming excited about what three boys will mean for us as a family and what this little guy is going to bring to the party. 

There is a very special dynamic in every family and I think families that have children of one gender have an especially unique one. I'm not saying it's for the good or bad, just different. Boys with only brothers have a different experience than they would if one of those brothers was a sister. And vice versa. Girls raised with sisters and no brothers have an experience that would be wholly different if one of them was a boy. 

It presents problems and eases some burdens. While I can now be assured I will never own a bathroom that doesn't smell like pee, I also know I will always have help when it comes to moving furniture, taking out the garbage or yard work (when we get one!). I don't think we'll be able to get all three of them in a room together, just because of the age differences but there will always be one room with two of them, at least. 

Our little man had more surprises in store for us too. Like being another week ahead of schedule. Yeah. Not even 20 weeks in & we're getting our due date bumped up a second time, this one by five days instead of two. We're now expecting his arrival around August 15. I'm not really complaining about the new due date; if it's accurate, it means I have one week less in the summer heat, grossly pregnant. I can totally live with that. 

All that change is based on how big he is. At the time of the ultrasound, I was 19 weeks and 6 days along but he measured out to be the size of a 20-21 week old fetus. He "weighed" about 13 ounces, what my pregnancy calendar claims he should be weighing today, days later, on the first day of week 21. 

Honestly, though. I didn't need the ultrasound to tell me, this kid is big. I've been showing for weeks now and I look much farther along than I actually am. I can feel him moving almost constantly & you can see it on the outside now too. I'm getting the boys used to talking to him and trying to let them catch a kick or two but so far, no luck. 

We've thought about names and are saving up to store cord blood. I'm going to set up a gift registry for the cord blood so friends and family can help with the costs if they so desire (hint, hint. wink, wink). My mom found a convertible crib set she wants to buy for us and it's one we actually like so of course we said "Yes, please!" There is still SO MUCH preparing to do but really, we've been through this rodeo before; we're not buying all that crap you're convinced you need as a first-timer. NO WAY. 

I'm sticking to a few key things we'll need in abundance, like Summer Infant's SwaddleMe wraps. I was thinking about going with the new-school cloth diapers they have out there or at least Honest Company's plant-based disposables. All I know for sure is I'm not going out of my mind, buying shit that will never get used. I'll do what I did with Paxton & find a car seat/stroller combo on Craig's List if I can. I might even be able to find a really good one like an Orbit or a Bugaboo. I'd be willing to spend decent money on those since they will be getting used A LOT and I might actually be able to find a used one around town. 

I know the next few months will fly by and baby will be here before we know it but it feels like there is plenty of time. Until I look down or stand up or try to eat. Then I realize how long I still have to go and how much growing we both still have to do. I worry about how big he is, how big he'll get and how my body will handle it. I'm not at risk right now but I'm notorious for developing high blood pressure and pregnancy-induced hypertension around 35 weeks. Both Phoenix & Paxton were induced a few days early and I was on bed rest with both of them; 6 weeks with Phoenix and 1-2 with Paxton. 

For now, I'm taking it easy, pacing myself as I get used to my growing belly and shrinking lung capacity. I'm still eating small meals throughout the day to help with my blood sugar and because the Zofram can only do so much if I'm not eating every few hours. Still craving lots of sweets, fruits and juices. Chocolate milk is on the list now too, along with this trail mix I found and Cuties, those little mandarin oranges they market as 'perfect for kids'. 

I still haven't gained any weight, even with all the snacking and sweets (probably because of the morning sickness and baby's propensity to steal all my calories and whatnot), making this my tiniest pregnancy ever but I'm sure it's not going to last much longer. For now, the only things that seems to be growing besides my belly are my boobs; I've already jumped from a 34A to a 36B and now, that's starting to feel too small. 

IT IS AWESOME. Too bad I can't guarantee they'll stay...

He's already squished & he still has months of baking left!

We're heading into the downhill climb and if I remember correctly, this half will crawl by. Then again, maybe I shouldn't be comparing this pregnancy to the last two; it's already been so different. Maybe I'm completely wrong and this last half will go even faster than the first. 

We'll just have to wait and see. 

A game I hate to play

Let's face it. Adults. Kids. Grandparents. Even teenagers. We all LOVE to play games. Board games. Word games. Kissing games. Games of pool, games of soccer, games of chicken in the pool. Games are fun. They get us together. They make us cooperate. They challenge us and push us to our limits, mental & physical.

Then there are games I think we can agree just plain old SUCK. Mind games are one of the first "bad" games that I think of. The game of love can also be especially bitter sometimes. One game I truly hate to play, yet find myself forced into day after day, is the Waiting Game.

This is where I throw in the TMI disclaimer. If you continue to read this post, you may learn more about me then you ever really wanted to know.

The first week of August, I went in to Planned Parenthood for my annual "lady's" exam and to get my IUD removed. After both of my pregnancies, I chose to use an IUD because I just don't seem to get along with pills or patches and I definitely don't agree with shots. I thought I was having problems with this second IUD; cramps, pain during sex, spotting between periods, all that fun shit, so an annual exam was a good excuse to get this junk taken out.

No big deal, right?? WRONG. A couple weeks later, I got a call from the clinic, asking if I'd received my test results. I hadn't. They sent the results to PORTLAND. To the address I haven't been at for over TWO YEARS and definitely NOT the address I put down on my patient info forms. When they send you results or call you with them, it's NEVER good news.

My PAP came back abnormal and I tested positive for HPV, which wasn't a big surprise.

I found out when I was pregnant with Phoenix that I have HPV when I had an abnormal PAP back then. At five or six months along in my pregnancy, I under went a colposcopy. For those of you unfamiliar with this procedure, CONGRATULATIONS because it really fucking sucks; it involves having your cervix examined under a magnifying glass and painful acid solutions being applied to your cervix and biopsies.

Yes. BIOPSIES. You get to have pieces of your cervix scraped or cut off so the doctors can look for everyone's FAVORITE six letter word.

CANCER.

Having gone through this once, I am not excited. I'm even less excited because while I'm dealing with all these super scary possibilities, I get to play the Waiting Game. I set an appointment for the colposcopy with PP on August 28. And then I got my period. I probably don't have to tell you but it's not really a good idea to have ANY sort of pelvic exam at this time of the month. So I cancelled and rescheduled for September 11. All the while, I'm not eating. I'm stressed the fuck out. Why? you ask. I've been through this before and didn't have cancer then.

I'm stressing out this time because all the symptoms I thought were my IUD are STILL HERE, without the IUD. I haven't been good about getting my lady exams every year and I don't think I even followed up with the 6-week exam after Paxton was born. Knowing I have HPV, the most common cause of cervical cancer, knowing the symptoms I'm experiencing CANNOT be from an IUD that's no longer present, my mind instantly goes to that ugly six-letter word: CANCER.

Tuesday morning, I dragged Jay & Paxton down to the PP in downtown Sacramento. The ONLY PP I've ever been in with a bullet-proof wall between the reception area and the office. After filling out the "what are you here for" form, I handed it to the receptionist and was promptly told they couldn't help me. Because of my insurance. The same insurance I had for my annual. The insurance I told them I had when I scheduled the appointment. This is apparently a procedure I have to go to my recently-assigned Primary Care Provider for. Which is AWESOME because they don't have an appointment until October. So after waiting A MONTH for news that could be potentially life-changing, I get to wait some more.

And worry. Are these lumps I feel tumors? Why am I cramping and spotting?? Could I have developed cervical cancer in the seven years since I found out I have HPV?? It's a slow-growing cancer, which is WHY getting regular lady exams is SO IMPORTANT. Early detection is the best way to fight any kind of cancer but you can't detect anything if you aren't going to the doctor regularly.

I'm scared, but not of the cancer. If I have it, I will fight it and I WILL WIN.

I'm scared for the boys. I don't want them to have to experience what will happen if we find out it is cancer. The radiation & chemo. Mom being too sick to function. I'm scared that I'll lose the chance to have another baby. I'm scared for Jay. Our path together has been rocky and full of pitfalls and perils that would have divided a LOT of couples. We still walk that rocky path and our relationship is FAR from perfect. This unknown, this possibility, adds more rocks to that path and leaves us stumbling, fighting to hold onto one another, fighting back the darkness that threatens to take us down and tear us apart.

We sit here and wait. And wait. And wait. For the day to come when we have answers. For the day when we can take action. For the day we can breathe a sigh of relief and rejoice in the HUGE, life-altering bullet we just dodged.

We wait, while life keeps rolling on. We wait and we hope.

Blogger Idol -- Going for it

It's been pretty wild & crazy around here since my last post. My mom came & went. Paxton got an appointment to be assessed at the Maryjane Rees Speech Hearing and Language clinic at Sacramento State for his speech delay. Phoenix started first grade in his Communicatively-Handicapped class and seems to be doing well. I found out the "issues" I thought were caused by my IUD could be something much worse (more on that later). Jay got the call that he's finally needed at the second salon location so now we're cleaning one in Roseville & one in Citrus Heights. Our neighbors next door, my closest friends here in California, the only friends I've made here on my own, moved the last week of August and once again, I'm left to my own devices.

Lots of stuff going on, I just haven't found the time or motivation to post about it all here. Which could explain the steady increase in my stress levels. Blogging really is a release for me; even when I don't think what I have to blog about is worthy of a post, I should blog. This is my story and I'm leaving pieces out.

I read a post on Where the Sanity Ends about how writing can help improve one's mental health and I know my friend Kelly at DeBie Hive would agree. She's been telling me for a while that she posts as often as she does because blogging is her therapy. I really respect and admire Kelly, for a lot of different reasons but this is one of the top five. She's not blogging for us; she's blogging for herself and that makes the topics and content more real. She doesn't worry about readership or stats. She's processing all the good, the bad, the ugly, all the mundane, every day happenings and the moments of total Mom-meltdown, the special surprises life serves up & the nasty ones too and she's offering us a front row seat to it all.

This makes me think about why I blog & the release I get from posting about the things that are happening. I get to verbalize and edit the feelings I'm going through and it helps me to put things in perspective and then put them away somewhere in my memory bank, where they won't play in a loop like a bad song on perpetual repeat.

Knowing this, I definitely need to get back on the blogging horse.

I love writing and I need to find that love again & really utilize this kind of therapy. I've got some shit to work out and this works for me, more than I've realized before. I might need to force myself to find time. I might need to battle the feeling of guilt for doing something that's not kid-, the biz-, house-related but I NEED TO DO IT.

There's even more motivation for me to lace up my Big Girl boots and jump back in the saddle.

 In the form of a contest.

It's called Blogger Idol and I'm pretty sure I don't need to explain the concept in too much detail. Instead of showcasing singers, it's showcasing bloggers and highlighting the art of writing.

What? you say. The art of writing?? Yes. The art of writing. The ability to put feeling, thoughts, ideas, ANYTHING, into words we can share with others is an art form. The skill it takes to touch people's hearts, their souls, to make them feel what you, the writer, are feeling or hoping to portray, is an amazing one. A skill I hope to learn. One I hope I am learning. Besides the free exposure I could get just from participating, there's so much I could learn & if I get anywhere in it, I have to actually blog on the regular and provide weekly posts.

All to the good. Putting myself out there at all is to the better, I think. I write this blog for me but also to relate with other people. If what I have to say, the experiences I've been through, can help someone else, that's a huge bonus for me. This could get me out to more people, making the chances of impacting someone greater.

I want to help people.

I want to share the things I've experienced, the challenges I've faced down because someone else out there is dealing with it too. And maybe reading my story will give them strength. Maybe they will feel what I've written was meant for them to read. I've felt that way reading Kelly's blog SO many times; I know her willingness to share and her ability to open up, to relate her story to all of us, is the main reason we've become friends. She makes me feel.

I want to do that too.

So I'm going for it. I'm filling out an auditions form and I'm putting myself out there, to be seen, to be read, to inspire, to be judged. To share. Wish me luck & show your support by giving Oh Boys a shout out on the Blogger Idol Facebook page.

Under Pressure

I haven't posted in a couple weeks and I feel bad. I'm really trying to be more regular with my posts -- I'm not going to keep all you wonderful readers around if I'm not posting -- but I have an unspoken/unwritten rule to not write when I'm pissed off or to bitch about my personal relationships. I know what trouble that can (and WILL) get me into and I'd just rather avoid it all together. This does not mean I'm always perfectly content, in any way, shape or form. I have problems, just like we all do. As positive as I try to be, sometimes it's a fight I just can't win. Today, I'm not even trying.

Today, I'm pissed off.

I'm stressed out.

I'm worn out.

I feel drained & depleted.

And there's no end in sight...

I need help. I need someone to see how hard I'm trying, how much I need a break. I am falling apart. I'm seething under the surface and only an extreme amount of self-control is keeping me from unloading all my pent-up animosity. I'm so disappointed, so angry.

So sad.

I feel so let down.

Anxiety over shit I can't control is permeating my life and as hard as I try to stuff it down, it isn't going away. It's not just the business, the house or the kids; there's so much more I just can't explain without pissing someone off. I don't even know why I care; I don't want to censor myself but I don't want to deal with the backlash either. Even here, on my own blog, I can't fully express how I feel. I can't coherently describe the gambit of emotions I'm dealing with. Instead I'm ranting, hoping it'll be enough to relieve just a little of this pressure before it crushes me completely...

...it's not.

Fighting the Battle to Win the War

I've been open in the past about my oldest son Phoenix & his speech delay. I've speculated for a while now that his lack of progress is due to the fact we aren't addressing the WHOLE problem. Last year, when he was at his Montessori school, he made friends with a little girl & at a play date with her, her mother introduced me to the "wonderful" world of Sensory Processing disorders. I had no idea until then, that what was happening to Phoenix might not be just a speech delay; I am forever grateful for that day, that conversation and the on-going support this family has provided us with. I left that play date with a book call Sensational Kids by Dr. Lucy Miller and a insatiable need to fill my brain with all the information I could find on sensory processing disorders. 

Most of you would be surprised to find out how many of us have sensory issues. Think about it for a minute. We all have five senses; sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch. But what if one or more of those senses isn't quite right? Maybe you don't feel light touch or can't stand to hear loud music. Maybe you're the kid who wanted to swing all day long, as high as possible. Sometimes, the brain doesn't "get" the messages our senses are sending it; there's something going on in the brain that isn't normal. It's not taking the information in the right way, not sorting it into the right places. You're not handicapped; you're definitely not dumb. You don't have ADD or ADHD. What they thought was Dyslexia, might not be. You may have a sensory processing disorder.

Crazy as it sounds, 1 in 20 kids has some form of sensory processing dysfunction and most kids diagnosed with ADD/ADHD are in fact suffering from a sensory issue. Phoenix, it turns out, is most likely dealing with an Auditory Processing Disorder (APD) called Centralized Auditory Processing Disorder (CAPD). After everything I've read, all the information I've found, other parents I've talked with, his Speech-Language Pathologist (SLP) at school (her daughter has a different form of sensory processing disorder), all his past IEPs and the good ol' Internet, it has taken me this entire year of Kindergarten to convince the district he has something more than just a Speech & Language impairment.

After being on half-days for a quarter of the year, all the behavioral problems, falling to the bottom of the class in academics and a pretty depressing assessment from the Maryjane Reese Speech, Language & Hearing Center at California State University, Sacramento (Sac State) it seems the team at school is willing to admit I may, in fact, know what I'm talking about. I don't claim to be an expert on anything -- except my kids. I will absolutely claim an expertise on them, for the time being anyways. That's the whole reason I stay at home with them; I want to know exactly what's going on & what they need. If I wasn't home right now, I can't imagine what things would be like for Phoenix...

Our last meeting didn't go very well; I left feeling mollified, not in a good way, but gave the plan we'd agreed on a chance. I blogged about that here and about what lead to that meeting here. Oh, this has been such a long journey... So this time around, I came prepared to do battle. I forwarded the assessment from Sac State to his SLP, Karen, and the rest of his team; rounded up his past IEPs, this year's progress reports, work he's brought home throughout the year and my own observations; all the clinical jargon on APD, CAPD and sensory processing I could get my hands on and walked in there with "fight" in my eyes (I'd like to think I did, at least).

Can you guess what happened? I didn't even get to argue! Before I even had a chance to overwhelm them with all the information I had, all the knowledge I'd stuffed into my brain, the placement specialist I thought I'd have to fight with the hardest, says to his SLP "So you're saying you think he'd benefit most from a CH placement for first grade?" before she'd even finished her observations. I thought I was dreaming or dead. It had to be dead. This was going to be hard. I was going to have to WOW these people, convince them he needed this to thrive. Nope. Not the case. Maybe it was the semi-confrontational emails I exchanged with his newest Occupational Therapist before the meeting, maybe it was the fact all of this had been said in November, at the last meeting, maybe it was the "fight" in my eyes, whatever it was, I'm more than thankful for it. 

This is one of the few times I've felt like I truly have a team working with me to help Phoenix. His SLP has always been on my side and it felt like this time, she went the extra mile. His teacher even said the right things and was actually a bigger help than I thought she'd be. I think all my activism has made a world of difference in her attitude towards all this. She admitted she doesn't know much about sensory processing disorders but agreed that he did have the characteristics of a child with APD when she heard them. The OT agreed a sensory diet isn't appropriate for the CAPD but other auditory-based OT could be helpful.

On top of all this, we're going to a hearing specialist to address a Type B/Type C tympanometry, we're also going to get an assessment for CAPD done at Sac State next semester and Phoenix is going to start a CAPD clinic on the 27th; he'll have two 50-minute sessions a week, for six weeks. I think I might even have a better time with sensory help from his pediatrician after the hearing test she did showed a Type C tympanometry; she actually volunteered the word "sensory" and said his ears could be causing problems for him. Phoenix has passed at least six hearing tests in half that many years, always on the default that he reacted, but not always at the right times. It took the tympanometry at Sac State to find this problem. Now that we've found it, we may be able to say the speech delay is part of an auditory processing disorder and that of course, means we have an answer. 

I'm not counting my eggs before they hatch, even though I've completely convinced myself it IS an auditory processing disorder. Honestly, I'm just ecstatic that he's going to be in a class that's going to help him grow his communication skills next year. First grade is so crucial to a child; I want to make sure he has every tool he needs these first few years, so he can succeed and be happy in school, for as many years as is humanly possible. He won't be going to the school closest to us but the school he's going to is close & it's supposed to be a really good school. 

I'm debating on whether or not I should let him take the bus next year; I know he would love it but I don't know if I would. I like our to and from routines...He's also going to go to extended year again this summer at the same school he went to last year, maybe even with the same teacher. He'll still get pulled out for speech in the new CH class so they can make sure to address the articulation issues he has. He is doing well in his Kindergarten class, in most areas that don't deal with verbal communication; he's making friends, in his own way, getting them to help him write words and 'label' his pictures. 

In a way, I'm glad he'll finish out the year in this class; it was sort of a testing year. How far could he get when pushed to age level? How much is he really lacking? What seems to be behind his failing academics? He'll get to stay with the friends he's managed to make this year for a few more months & we'll get to see how much farther he can go in a regular classroom setting before going to the CH class. My hope is he'll only need the CH class setting for a few years; maybe by fourth or fifth grade, he'll be able to go back to a "normal" class and thrive. I just want to make sure he can do all that, as soon as possible. The kid has an amazing amount of potential; he's friendly, happy, curious and so, so funny. I want to nourish that. I want to see him able to express himself freely, sooner rather than later.

I'm so excited for him. I'm so proud of him. It's hard to remember, every day, that he is dealing with something so difficult. He copes so well & has adapted in so many different ways. I just have to remind myself every now & then how special, how amazing he really is. Knowing he's doing as well as he is, with the handicap he has, helps give me the strength I need to stay calm, rational and above all, patient. I was in no way ready for parenting to be this hard but I gladly accept the challenge. Seeing Phoenix succeed and overcome all these obstacles motivates me to be the best mom I can be for him because he deserves it. Part of me hopes he'll thank me for all of this one day; the other part of me hopes he will never know it wasn't exactly what I should have done. 

This is easily the hardest, most rewarding thing I have ever done and I wouldn't change it for anything in the world. Thanks for sharing this journey with me. It's still in progress and will be for many years, I feel. Please leave comments or questions if you have them. I truly appreciate all feedback & readership ;) you guys help make this the therapy it is <3

To my father --

This weekend is bittersweet for me. While I absolutely love celebrating Jay's induction into the Wonderful World of Fatherhood, I also feel devastated by the loss of my own father. For five of the last seven years, it's been a balancing act for me; to feel the pain of his absence and still make it a special day all about Dad. Today, Jay took Phoenix for his first fishing trip; it's something Dad and I used to do when I was a kid AND Phoenix has become obsessed with the idea. Maybe it's because we cross the American River almost every day and usually see fishermen out in their boats or maybe a passion for fishing can be passed down like blue eyes or blonde hair, I don't know, but I do think it would make Dad smile.

As the boys get older, I miss my dad more. I get emotional because of all that he's missing out on and I still feel an intense amount of guilt about the state of our relationship at the time of his death. Seeing my friends and family so happy to be celebrating with their fathers makes me envious that mine was taken from me so early in my life. I would never wish what I've experienced on anyone; I just wish it hadn't happened to me either.

 I miss you so much all the time, Dad, but days like today come around and I fall apart. My only comfort is knowing you're still watching over me and seeing you in my boys, like you've left me a little piece of yourself in them. If you could only see them...

To all fathers out there: Happy Father's Day. The role you play in your child's life will be the most important thing you ever do. The memories you leave them with will be the best legacy you can give them. The lessons you teach them will be the foundation they build the rest of their lives on; make it a strong one. Love them as much as they adore you. Hold them tight & let them fly; and they will make your heart soar.

Looking back (while keeping my eyes on the future)

I didn't get the chance to post this last week so I'm taking the time to do it now. Last Tuesday, April 26th, marked an important moment in time; for me and for the family. I didn't think it was a date of much significance, until it came creeping up. I'd never even realized it was a date imprinted on my brain, probably for life. I knew there was something "special" about that day but didn't figure out what until I was browsing through pictures on the computer.

April 26, 2010 -- the day we said 'Goodbye' to Portland and started our journey south.

I cannot believe it's been a year since we left; it certainly doesn't feel like it's been that long. Paxton was just barely rolling over; Phoenix was just learning to write his name and I still had some post-pregnancy boobs left...

Twelve months later: Paxton is running, climbing, sliding all over the place; Phoenix is learning to read and getting ready for Kindergarten in September; Jay "inherited" his dad's residential cleaning business and I'd say he's the happiest he's been in a long, long time. I, myself, have grown in unimaginable ways; I've tackled problems I'd usually just avoid; I've found myself truly embracing the saying, "Don't sweat the small stuff", mainly because there's lots of BIG stuff to sweat over LOL. 

I didn't think I would enjoy myself as much as I do here in California. For one thing, the weather is beyond awesome; it's May 3rd and we've already had to use the A/C several times! Phoenix is already asking to go swimming at Gramma's and Paxton spends most days in a t-shirt and diaper! I've made a few friends; had a few play dates; learned my way around town enough to get almost anywhere I need to go. I started modifying our eating habits, weeding out the highly-processed garbage and adding organics, naturally sweetened, plain-ol'-better-for-you food. 

We've got chickens!  That's something that's so bizarre to me when I think about how long we were in Portland and the yard we had; it would have been PERFECT for chickens! We've made a lot of improvements to the house too; even though we just rent, we want our place to look nice and reflect "us". As soon as we moved in last year, we cut down the butterfly bushes on the side yard, thinned out the overgrown tree-bushes that line the back fence and tore out a hideous planter box next to the driveway (that caused a feud with our neighbors LOL)

We've celebrated our first Christmas here, we've all had our first California birthdays and celebrated our first Easter with all the family. My favorite part of this whole move is watching the boys with the family; seeing them play with their cousins, the reactions they have when they see their aunts & uncles and grandparents; having a 'community' to raise them in, is all I've ever wanted. I know my mother loves us to death and always will; it's just different down here because we are literally surrounded by love. It feels so good. So warm. So loving. It isn't always easy; I've never been part of a big family and finding my place is difficult but I would never change it. I feel like I've always belonged; I needed these people, needed to experience what it is to be part of a large family, needed the growth a move to somewhere new and unknown can create.

I'm excited for the next year, for all the joys it will bring and all the troubles we will overcome. We've become so much stronger this last year...the big move, and all that's come with it, has taught me how incredibly dependent I am on my little family (and big one too!); I would be lost without these three boys. 

Absolutely. Completely. Totally. Entirely.