Stinker Babies

Tag! You're It! (Plus a Giveaway!)

2013-03-11T13:05:00.000-04:00

Confession: I've had some trouble with homework this year. Caleb is supposed to be reading for 20 minutes each day.

I love to read, so I love that this is homework. As a former teacher, I know how important it is to be reading at least 20 minutes daily. One study showed test scores improved greatly for those reading 20 minutes a day as opposed to just 10 minutes a day.

Caleb loves to read...when he feels like it. We've talked about the reasons why reading for 20 minutes per day is so important . But to a six-year-old, test scores aren't really the most persuasive argument. My struggle comes with keeping it interesting and fun and not at all like school work. A child who is more actively engaged while reading (actually thinking about what they're reading), has been shown to outperform children who are less engaged.

Yeah, I'm not completely sure
what the tiger ears were about...

So I was super excited when I found out we were going to get the opportunity to use LeapFrog's Tag Reading System for their Reading Month Campaign!

Oh my word. It was love at first sight for my kiddos.

They cannot get enough of Tag.

Yay, Mom! Dinosaurs!

The package we received included the Tag reading system and a book called Leap and the Lost Dinosaur. My little girl, who is all into dinosaurs lately, could not have been happier.

The instructions were easy to follow and the required computer download took just a few minutes. With each new book you purchase, you connect Tag with the provided USB cord and download your new title. You can choose which books you want to sync with your Tag. So much like iTunes!

Gonna show pre-K what's up.

My kids loved the story of Leap and his time travel so much that I went to the store to check out other titles.

Grace will be attending pre-K next year and I'd love for her to be as ready as possible. So I picked up Get Ready for Kindergarten. She absolutely loves all the different reading games and activities packed into this book.

Earphones make Tag
ready for church!

Caleb is a bit more advanced in his reading progress. I wanted to find him something that would grab his interest and also challenge him. I knew The Human Body Discovery Pack would be perfect for my little science guy. (Now he can tell you which animal has the longest trachea.)

So far, the only problem I have with Tag is that I don't have two of them!

*******************************

Want to experience Tag for yourself?

LeapFrog is offering a $3 discount on Tag products!

LeapFrog also wants to hook up one of my readers with a Tag prize package worth $50! To be entered into the giveaway, all you need to do is comment below! What was your favorite childhood book or story?

**Giveaway open to residents of the U.S.A. and ends on Friday, 3/15/13. Winner announced here and at http://facebook.com/stinkerbabies. Winner will have 48 hours to provide information necessary for shipping. Prize package will be mailed directly from LeapFrog.

I was selected for this opportunity by Clever Girls Collective but content and opinions expressed here are my own. To take the LeapFrog Reading Month pledge, please visit their Facebook page. #LFReadingMonth #spon

It's a Girl!! Meet Our Service Dog!

2013-03-09T15:00:00.002-05:00

As most of you know, we've been waiting on pins and needles for our official Match Letter from 4 Paws for Ability. This letter would tell us which of these adorable wonderdogs would become a part of our family.

Friday morning, I was startled awake by a crazy dream and it led me to post this in our private Facebook group that only the families can see.

Exactly 2 hours and 30 minutes later, we saw this post in the public group for the March class:

Five minutes later, the first match was received. Someone posted, "WE GOT OUR MATCH! They're coming!!!" At that moment, I started bawling like a baby.

Two minutes later, I refreshed my e-mail and there it was. An e-mail from the wonderful Karen Shirk with the subject line, "Dear Caleb."

I took a deep breath and clicked.

And just like that, all of the disappointments and frustrations and discouragement and hard work and hope and patience and lessons learned along the way...It was all resolved in a beautiful reality.

Our goal, our dream, our hope had a beautiful face and name.

I am so honored and thrilled to introduce you to our new girl who will be joining our family in just 10 days.

Meet April!!!

She's a beautiful black Labrador Retriever who will have her first birthday on March 15th.

(Which also just so happens to be our 10th wedding anniversary - how's that for a sweet "coincidence"?)

Every time I look at that sweet, smiling face, I start crying again. I just can't believe we have our match. I cannot believe that we will have her in our arms in just ten days.

We are going out in just a bit to shop for our sweet April. I'm going to try to contain myself even though I feel like I should be on a new TLC reality show, "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant (until one week before I had a baby)."

Just like bringing a newborn home, there will be some major adjustments going on. The training class will be intense and every day for eleven days. Because our family lives so far from 4 Paws, I feel the pressure of getting it all in and getting it all right before we leave.

But now, whenever I start to get stressed, I just look at that sweet girl's smile and I just feel that it's all going to be alright. I can look past the initial adjustment phase and see how it will be in a year, two years, five years, ten.

And that makes everything worth it.

We started down this path to a service dog exactly two years ago. There have been some major roadblocks and detours. I can't help but feel it was because we were meant to be with this organization, this group of families, and this particular pup.

We were officially accepted into the 4 Paws program last February. I remember, on our anniversary last year, seeing Karen post pictures of a brand new litter just born that day. Knowing the age range of the dogs placed, I chuckled as I thought how sweet it would be to be matched with one of those babies born on our day of celebration.

It's been a very long road. But in just 10 short days, that road will end in Xenia, Ohio.

And April is there. Waiting for us. Waiting for her boy.

Leaving the Nest

2013-03-04T11:21:00.000-05:00

Caleb has been spending an ever increasing amount of time with a mainstream class.

Last week, his name was officially moved to the mainstream class roster.

I feel so proud and happy and excited...And absolutely terrified.

I'm so relieved that he'll feel like he has his place. It was hard on him when he was moving between two or three classes during the day. He didn't feel like he belonged in any one class. He missed out on something in his ESE class because he was at mainstream. He missed out on a project in mainstream because he happened to be back in the old class for that part of the day.

None of those instances could have been avoided. And his teachers have done a fantastic job. It just comes with the territory of being in that transitional place.

You know what else comes with the territory of transitional places for kids who struggle with transitions?

Very public "Category 5" meltdowns in the car line because the idea of the transition is suddenly just too overwhelming. Traffic stopped. Other parents, late for work, frustrated with having to go around us. Trying to find a balance between keeping a positive tone and validating his feelings. Walking that tightrope, knowing that a step to the right or left will lead to a total breakdown. Ultimately needing to pick up my boy (all 4 feet 2 inches of him) and carry him to the sidewalk where the behavior specialist is waiting. Driving away, so slowly, while his sobbing face haunts my rear view mirror. Comforting and reassuring my baby girl that her big brother will be okay. Mostly telling myself that he will be okay.

And he is. I got an e-mail just now that reassured me that he was fine. He spent some time decompressing in his old class. After he was regulated and ready to join his new class, he was doing well.

I knew he'd be fine. I did. You should see the pride on his face when he comes out with his new class at pick-up. Or the growing confidence when he joins them for lunch. It makes my heart smile.

I'm so thankful for his school. I'm so thankful for his wonderful teachers that are so patiently guiding him through this transition.

My baby is leaving the nest. And this mama bird is trying really hard to hide any fear that comes with watching her baby fly.

Happy, Happy March! (And a HUGE thank you!)

2013-03-01T17:09:00.001-05:00

I cannot believe this month is here. We have been waiting for this month for oh so long! And it's here!!!

I just wanted to take a minute to thank you all so so so much for your incredible support. Physically, emotionally, financially. I have been blown away.

I am not exactly known for my willingness to request or accept help. I've actually been told that my stubbornness was infuriating. (Who, me? haha) But, as you can imagine, we're willing to do anything when it comes to our kids. And I am just so honored and humbled by our family and friends and even the strangers in our lives who have made this part so much easier!

Just as an example, the chip-in widget brought in $1,135 to help fund our trip to Ohio for the service dog training class. That's around 30% of our goal right there.

We had a yard sale a while back to raise some money. Because of all the wonderful people who helped to spread the word and share our story, we raised another $600 there.

We've had a few instances of opening the mailbox and finding a check. These are the days the mailman saw me crying.

Yesterday, I saw that our cousin in Washington was raffling off a beautiful cake and planned to donate 100% of the earnings to our travel fund. (Her cakes are stunning, so if you live in the Seattle/Tacoma area and want a chance at a great cake, let me know!)

We will have our last fundraiser tomorrow. I have been absolutely amazed at how many people wanted to help with our yard sale. We have had people donate entire garages full of items to sell. We had a storage facility donate two storage units for three months so we could store the items donated. We've had people going above and beyond to help spread the word to get as much traffic as possible.

Our original goal was based on the estimated travelling costs included when you drive 800 miles with your kids and stay in a hotel for 2 weeks and then drive 800 miles back with your kids and a dog. We figured it would be around $3500. As of tonight, we have raised $2200!!! This is so incredibly encouraging. I know $1300 is a lot to raise at a yard sale, but we have such great stuff that people have shared with us. And we've had so much help with spreading the word. I know we can do it!

If you've ever wondered about why we have been working towards a service dog, or if you've wondered about the organization we chose (4 Paws for Ability), I would encourage you to watch this incredible documentary. It's just a short 25 minutes that really explores the who, what, why, and how of 4 Paws. I promise you will need tissues. I can't even really talk about it without tearing up.

This video will give you a bit of insight into the enormous magnitude of why we are getting a "helper dog," as my kids call our new family member. The 4 Paws angels are truly about to change our lives in ways we haven't even imagined yet.

Be on the lookout for a "match announcement." 4 Paws wisely waits until the last minute to make the final decision on which dog is best matched with which recipient. They usually send the families a letter from the dog to the child in which the dog introduces itself to its new partner and tells the child how excited it is to have a new best friend. (Oh be still my heart!) The letter usually arrives 7-14 days before class. We are really, really hoping it is closer to 14 days! That's next week!!!!

We would appreciate your prayers for a great turnout tomorrow and for the trainers at 4 Paws as they make the tough decisions on the best matches. It's go time!!

*******UPDATE*******
The yard sale was a HUGE success!!! Thank you so so so much to everyone who donated items to sell, all those who helped spread the word, everyone who came out and shopped, all of you who stopped by just to say hi and make a donation, you guys and gals who sacrificed the feeling in their extremities to stand out in the freezing wind and help run the sale, and for anyone who said a special prayer for us. I am so thrilled to report that it went way above and beyond our expectations!

We leave in exactly two weeks and our travel fundraising goal has officially been met.

And exceeded. Glory to God.

Dreams: Chase or Let Go?

2013-02-25T10:35:00.000-05:00

Dreams are a funny thing.

Two years ago, I wrote a post about a lifelong dream (I'd Like to Thank the Academy), and it was still very true for me last year as well.

Last night, I watched the Academy Awards from start to finish (a few years later) and it wasn't until this morning that it hit me. The Dream didn't jump off the shelf last night. There was no tapping on my shoulder. There was no sudden and inexplicable urge to hop in the car and head for LA.

Wow. Weird. What is going on?

A couple of weeks ago, I was disappointed about not making the cut for a very cool blogging opportunity. Through that experience, I've learned that I really do love writing and I am so fascinated by the power of social media.

I was suddenly motivated to put more of an effort into this whole blogging thing. I added a "Meet the Parents" informational tab up there to introduce myself and my husband. Don't let the picture scare you away.

I added social media icons up there at the top right so it would be easier to stay in touch with any of you wonderful people who humor me by visiting. I even did HTML to get those up there. I would have never ever imagined myself motivated enough to learn that kind of computer stuff. Like ever.

I even added a general Disclosure Policy in the hopes that one day I might actually get the chance to need a Disclosure Policy.

I've spent a bit more time on Twitter, trying to become more familiar with the unofficial rules and stuff. Some of them I've figured out on my own. The hard way. For example...If you are trying to build your followers by following others in the hopes that they'll follow you back? Fine. Reaching out to others is a great way to become familiar with people. But. If you sneakily unfollow people after you've built your numbers? That's just rude. And I'm onto you. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But at some point, I'll be onto you. Yeah, see... I'm real tough. Mmhmm.

So, during the Oscars last night, instead of feeling bad about myself that The Dream has gotten so incredibly dusty while it sits on that shelf with no hopes of coming down, I joined a Twitter party to discuss the Academy Awards show. I ended up making some great new connections and I also got to know a few others bit better. It was really fun.

So now I'm wondering...Is The Dream still there on the shelf or has it been replaced?

Yep, I think it's still there gathering dust while it patiently waits to be picked up and reexamined. I just think it's been joined by another dream. One that I feel like I can actually do something about. This one, I can take down whenever I have a spare minute or two. I can start chasing this one down in between loading the dishwasher and folding the clothes. (Yes, I'll actually fold them eventually!)

So I won't be getting dressed up to walk a red carpet anytime soon. But my ugly PJ pants are super comfy.

I won't have paparazzi screaming my name to get my attention, but that's okay 'cause my kids do that enough as it is.

I won't be travelling the world to film in exotic locations, but inspiration can be found even in the mundane of the school pick-up line.

So, no matter which dream I take down off the shelf, I will be choosing projects and hoping to make a difference in the world. Like shining a light on injustice, baring my soul in hopes that someone else going through a similar situation might not feel so alone, letting you into the craziness so at the very least it's good for a laugh, or just keepin' it real whether it's success or failure.

What's your dream? How are you chasing it? I'd love to hear about it in the comments down there!

Oh Pinterest. Why do you torment me so?

2013-02-22T12:35:00.001-05:00

Ahhhh Pinterest.

You and I have a love-hate relationship, don't we?

You pursued me for so long as I firmly resisted your temptations. I have to admit. I secretly admired your persistence.

You finally wore me down. After months of my friends telling me we'd be perfect for each other and after seeing your charming ways everywhere I looked, I finally gave in and agreed to a first date.

From that very first pin over dinner, I was in love. But it was a forbidden affair and the guilt of time spent with you came crashing in around me. I had to end it.

But I just couldn't bring myself to walk away from you. So I rationalized our dates. I would only pin things that would actually be helpful to me or that I would actually use.

Like 87 recipes for crescent roll creations.

Source: aisletoaloha.blogspot.com via Ashley on Pinterest

Say what you will...this one was actually so incredibly yummy.

C'mon. You never know when you might need some vases and you only have light bulbs on hand.

Source: blog.freepeople.com via Ashley on Pinterest

And when we can barely afford to get a Redbox movie and a potpie as a getaway, why wouldn't it be emotionally healthy to spend a few ~~hours~~ minutes pinning dream vacation spots?

Source: shangri-la.com via Ashley on Pinterest

Ummm...Yes, please!

Home improvement projects will only increase the resale value of our home and inspire me to create a warm, cozy environment for my family.

Source: houseofturquoise.com via Ashley on Pinterest

Oh, Pinterest. Why must you torment me so with your wily temptations? Resistance is futile, I suppose.

After all, today is National Margarita Day. And I would hate to be unpatriotic...

Source: cookinglight.com via Ashley on Pinterest

And if you find yourself spending some time with our mutual love, you can connect with me on Pinterest by clicking here: Ashley @ StinkerBabies

Feeling like a hot mess? Come sit by me!

2013-02-20T16:46:00.002-05:00

Now that I've been a mom for almost seven years, I've finally figured out how to spot fellow mamas in the wild. You will know us by the circles under our eyes. Just kidding. Sorta.

Seriously though, on so many days, I feel like I have been sent to earth on a mission from God to help other moms feel better about themselves.

Not so much in an awesome and encouraging type of way (although I would love that) but more of an at-least-I've-got-it-together-better-than-that-woman kinda way. Each one of us is a hot mess in our own special way. I just tend to be more mess than hot.

So if you're a stressed out mom and you're looking to feel a bit better about yourself, here are a few ways that I can help you out with that.

Just remember...

You are not alone if...

You've ever had to do the walk of shame from the very back of Target, carrying a 35-pound three-year-old having a total meltdown because he can’t have the $75 Thomas track set. Now your picture is up as a warning to employees.

They're serious when they suggest
you cover the sandbox every time.

Your kids have ever come running up to you from the sandbox to show you the buried treasure they found. It’s really, really not old Play-Doh. *cough*cat poop*cough*

Your two-year-old daughter has screamed her head off for 20 miles because of the total injustice of not being able to pee out of the open door of the minivan into the grass on I-10.

You've missed an appointment because your kids have played hide-and-seek with your car keys. And they are very, very good at hide-and-seek.

Your date nights have gone from candlelit dinners and strolls in the moonlight to a turkey potpie, a beer, and a Redbox. And you’re so grateful for them!

Sometimes jail seems like it might actually be a vacation. Well. The Martha Stewart kinda jail. Not that Scared Straight jail. Yikes.

You've worn yoga pants and running shoes at least three mornings this week to drop your kid off at school but you haven’t stepped foot in the gym in eight months.

For your last birthday, all you really and truly wanted was to sleep past 8 am.

They were laughing it up just after
this picture was taken, so don't feel
too bad...

When your kids draw whiskers and stripes all over each other’s faces in semi-permanent marker, you've learned how to simultaneously put them in time out and take pictures.

You know that, even after enduring the pain of childbirth, stepping on a Lego can make you want to cuss like a sailor and cry like a baby.

You could happily survive on coffee and wine alone.

You know that no matter how tired, cranky, or stressed out you might be, you wouldn't trade being their mom for anything in the whole world!

(But a cruise sure would help sweeten the deal.)

Black History Month

2013-02-18T16:54:00.001-05:00

This is a scary post to write. Scary only because I just have questions and no real answers. I feel like I won't be able to word this post in a way that accurately portrays my thoughts. But I'm going to try my best because these thoughts have been going 'round and 'round in my head over the weekend and sometimes writing helps sort them out.

Friday afternoon, as we were driving home from school, my son said something from the back seat that really stopped me in my tracks. Almost literally. I came this close to pulling over to the side of the road.

He announced that he had learned about a "black man inventor."

When I asked him some questions, he went on to tell me that he had watched a video in his 1st grade class about the "black man inventor" and how he had made some really great stuff. But the part of this exchange that really gave me pause was the emphasis on the word "black."

This was the first time I've ever heard him refer to the color of someone's skin. Ever. Before this day, my child was colorblind.

We have yet to have a conversation with our child addressing his autism diagnosis. In gradual preparation, we are constantly laying the groundwork of a world view that just sees people as all God's children that He created in wonderful variety. Whether it be the color of their skin or the diversity of their neurology, we just want them to see the person.

I felt so sad after the conversation about the inventor. It really gave me a lot to think about and it was this place where all of my questions were born.

For example, I wondered if my son would have learned about George Washington Carver's many accomplishments if there wasn't Black History Month. If so, I wondered if the history lesson could have been presented without bringing race into the matter. Or if it should. Does the color of Dr. Carver's skin together with the era in which he lived add a context that is integral to his story? Does it add to his accomplishments? And if this is the case, how do we determine which decades combined with which races (or genders for that matter) add up to a greater accomplishment?

For example, should equal study time be given to Native American History? Did you know that Native Americans weren't granted citizenship until 1924? Or that it wasn't until 1965 that their voting rights were addressed in federal law? Even today, the living conditions on many reservations have frequently been compared to those found in a 3rd world nation. In my educational experience, that ugly part of America's past was relegated to a chapter or two at most.

Black History Month is celebrated annually in the United States, Canada, and the United Kingdom. It was started in 1926 by the historian, Carter G. Woodson, "with the hope that it would one day be eliminated when black history became fundamental to American history." (Wikipedia-Black History Month)

Are we there yet? If not, how will we know when we get there?

How long might our children remain blind to skin color if black history was, as Woodson hoped it would one day be, just American history?

Does Black History Month perpetuate the separation of American histories? Should it?

There are many different opinions on the subject. I'm still in the process of forming mine.

What are your thoughts?

Here are Morgan Freeman's thoughts on the subject of Black History Month.

Chicks Dig Chicken Salad Chick

2013-02-16T13:26:00.004-05:00

Like any good Southern girl, I love chicken salad. Here in the South, you can find it anywhere from funerals to picnics, baby showers to barbecues. Actually...I'm willing to bet chicken salad was exactly what those handsome young men brought Scarlett O'Hara at the 12 Oaks picnic.

Now. I'm gonna tell you a little secret. Lean in real close because this is pretty scandalous for a true Southern girl. A little closer. Okay, too close. Back up just a bit.

I cannot make good chicken salad to save my life.

I have tried so hard. I have tried it with lots of mayo. Eww. I have tried with no mayo. Also eww. I have tried it with grapes. And apples. And nuts. And it has driven me a bit nuts because I cannot get it just right.

So you can imagine my excitement yesterday when I stumbled across a game-changer.

My mom knows my love-hate relationship with the pursuit of the perfect chicken salad so she invited me to try a new restaurant. When she told me it was a chicken salad place, I wasn't sure what to expect.

It was love at first sight. From the moment we walked in the front door of Chicken Salad Chick, I knew this was going to be an awesome place. The decor is beautifully trendy but not intimidating. From the gorgeous photographs of local landmarks to the hilarious menu descriptions and framed advice on the bathroom walls (ladies, be sure to check out how to determine the extent of your man's love for you), they have created a wonderful mix of Southern sass and class.

It was as if Julia Sugarbaker had finally realized her secret dream of running a restaurant.

But the food. Oh my word, let's talk about the food.

There were sixteen different chicken salad recipes on the menu. Six. Teen. I counted. (Edit: I've been hearing claims of fifteen chicken salads so maybe the pimento cheese doesn't count as a chicken salad even though it's listed on the menu under "Famous Chicken Salads." Either way, you will spend many lunches trying to taste all the chicken salads!)

I sampled a few before ultimately deciding on the Cranberry Kelli. My own personal "white whale" of chicken salad attempts. It was delicious. There was just the right amount of, well, everything on a perfectly toasted croissant.

Because I ordered this chicken salad perfection as part of a soup and sandwich combo, I was doubling up on my "try new things in 2013." All of the soups sounded terrific, but I was especially intrigued by the Chicken and Artichoke Florentine. I had never heard of such a soup combination. I'm not even gonna lie, y'all. I definitely did the "yummy dance."

What's that? How was the tea? Such a great question! The "house wine of the South" is such a simple concept and yet so many places can mess it up so badly. An unforgivable sin around here. Let me assure you, this tea was freshly brewed and perfectly sweetened. They nailed it.

There are so many other combinations that I can't wait to try and maybe even pass off as my own. Just kidding, just kidding. Although, they do have a great catering menu so...technically...if one was terrible at making chicken salad then one could order enough to feed an army at a church potluck or wedding shower. Just sayin'.

I'm already craving it again, especially on this chilly day. Talk about the perfect comfort food. And everyone on staff was so sweet and friendly. So you really do feel like you're headed over to a friend's house for a little lunch and girl talk. Unfortunately, Tallahassee will have to wait until the Grand Opening on Tuesday. But if you're lucky enough to live near one of the five established locations, go have some soup for me. And if you live near Mobile, Valdosta, Birmingham, Greenville, or Destin...just be patient. Chicken Salad Chick is moving into your area soon! You can visit her on Facebook to keep up with the latest information.

So get ready, Tallahassee! We have a new chick in town and you have just got to go meet her. Tell her I said hi!

*Disclaimer: These opinions are my own. I was not compensated in any way other than having my tummy full of yummy goodness. Actually...no one even asked me to write this. It was just that good.*

I'm Too Old for This...Right?

2013-02-13T19:43:00.001-05:00

We've all had our share of disappointments throughout life.

I mean, it goes with the territory right? Like in high school when I didn't get the part in the school play or I didn't make the cheerleading squad. Oh man. I was crushed. My mom would always tell me that disappointment builds character.

Ohhhh how I hated that.

But she was right. (Yes, Mom, I said it.) Those experiences toughened me up and prepared me for when life was really throwing lemons.

Like...

These poor people have no idea.

Finally getting a photograph of the whole family looking at the camera, but your kids each have a finger up their nose...

Practicing that dang Facebook Put-Your-Hand-On-Your-Hip-And-Pull-A-Muscle-Contorting-Half-Your-Body-Into-A-Flattering-Angle Pose for a week only to have a friend tag the most ~~realistic~~ unflattering picture ever...

The finale of LOST. 'Nuff said.

Okay, obviously those aren't serious disappointments.

But what about the stuff that involves your pride? Like, maybe just as a hypothetical, an example could be...

If you came across an opportunity to try an eating plan you would never be able to afford on your own. You would be part of a sisterhood of bloggers encouraging each other and providing some friendly competition as motivation. It would give you a perfect opportunity to take your writing to a place that's so real and honest that it would be terrifying but liberating and exciting to be growing this way. The people giving you this opportunity would be promoting your blog and getting you the kind of exposure that you would never admit that you secretly want. All the while, you'd be changing your lifestyle and your habits and your health for the better.

So (hypothetically, of course) you apply for such an opportunity and you don't tell a soul. Until your husband wonders why you're so twitchy about checking your e-mail and twitter on the day they're supposed to announce the selected applicants. And that's when you realize just how badly you want it. You just know that if you were given that opportunity, that you would not waste a second of it. That you would be the absolute best person they had ever worked with. That you would be a perfect addition to the group and you would make new lifelong friends and excellent professional connections all while meeting personal goals and feeling confident again.

Hypothetically. Of course.

And then the list is posted.

And suddenly you're 15 again, standing outside the gym as they post the list from cheerleading tryouts. You're scanning the list of names just as fast as your eyes can move. And your stomach does a little flip when you think you see your name but it's really someone else who has the same initials. And as you reach the end of the list for the third time, your heart sinks as you realize your name really isn't there.

And then all around you, the girls who made it are squealing with excitement and hugging each other and laughing about how much fun they're going to have and all the adventures that are coming. And even though you might want to cry your eyes out and yell about how unfair it is, you have to put on a brave smile and be graceful in congratulating them because you remember that you're 33 years old and on Twitter instead of that teenager in the high school gym.

Hypothetically. Obviously.

But such a disappointment could also make me realize how much I wanted the chance to walk down that path not yet taken. And it might make me want to change some things. It could make me plan to devote more of an effort to growing as a writer. Or encourage me to learn more about social media marketing. Or even admit that Mom's advice is timeless and still applicable in my 30s just as well as it was in my teens. I might even embrace my character building and grow from the experience.

But I still wouldn't leave your pompoms unattended.

Hypothetically.

Parenting in the Fire Swamp

2013-01-28T16:50:00.000-05:00

The other night, Jake and I were flipping through the channels hoping to find something on TV that did not involve mighty math powers or latch-key bunnies. (Seriously, where are the adults in Max & Ruby?)

I squealed when we came across one of the greatest movies in the history of mankind.

The Princess Bride.

Buttercup had just tossed Wesley down the hill and we were already reciting the lines right along with them.

As the two lovebirds bravely headed off into the fire swamp, I had the most incredible epiphany.

Parenting is like the fire swamp. The fire swamp is parenting. Mind = blown.

All the ups and downs of sleepless nights and diaper explosions and teething and potty training and the Terrible Twos and Traumatic Threes and Frustrating Fours and...okay, you get the picture.

"It's not that bad. Well, I'm not saying I'd like to build a summer home here but the trees are actually quite lovely."

We make it through the days of packing up the entire house to run to the grocery store. We survive the sleep deprivation. We celebrate the end of potty training. And after a bit, we look back and we see the loveliness of the trees.

But just when we've mastered one phase, a new challenge is on the horizon. Eventually, we'll realize we've learned and grown. We'll hear the pops that precede a flame spurt and know how to avoid the fire.

"Well, one thing I will say. The fire swamp certainly does keep you on your toes. This will all soon be but a happy memory."

There will be days, though, when we find ourselves feeling defeated and discouraged. Maybe we might even find ourselves having a day when we're sobbing on the kitchen floor.

"We'll never succeed. We may as well die here."

Even though Buttercup is a bit of a drama queen, that attitude is sometimes familiar. But! We can't give up. We can do it! Think about all the challenges we've faced. Think of all the ways we've learned and grown. We are growing daily as we're molded and shaped by our experiences.

"No, no. We have already succeeded. I mean, what are the three terrors of the fire swamp? One, the flame spurt. No problem. There's a popping sound preceding each. We can avoid that. Two, the lightning sand, but you were clever enough to discover what that looks like, so in the future we can avoid that, too."

I know what you're thinking.

What about the R.O.U.S.s?

That's why we have each other. In parenting, it is so extremely important to have some sort of community. We've got each other's backs. We can do this together!

Together, we can make it through this fire swamp. And one day? (Maybe even many years from now.) But, one day, we'll look back on the "terrors" of the fire swamp and our first thought will be, "How lovely were the trees."

Counting Down the Days!

2013-01-22T10:55:00.000-05:00

Is it possible to want something to hurry up and get here while, at the very same time, stressing about running out of time?

Yes. It is. Just in case you were wondering.

In this case, I'm talking about our trip to 4 Paws for Ability to meet and train with our service dog.

53 days, my people. Fifty. Three. Days.

There is a "Mommy Do" list about a mile long. But, thankfully, many things have been crossed off.

Once we have our service dog, we'll be able to

cut down to just one cart!
We currently use one for kids

and one for groceries.

We finished the video footage. For about a month, I had our video camera surgically attached to my hand. I tried to capture every meltdown, every public outing, every stim, every noise, every struggle and every challenge. And a few annoyed looks from our fellow grocery store shoppers. Then I spent two days at the computer, compiling and editing our life with autism into a 2.5 hour video. It was emotionally draining.

The trainers at 4 Paws have that video. It was incredibly difficult to become vulnerable enough to allow strangers into your world with all its imperfections and insecurities. But it is oh so worth it. They now have all the information they need to make just the right match for Caleb and for our family. Just an example? They will be able to actually play the audio of our footage for our dog to become accustomed to all the noises and vocal stims. This process still amazes me!

We have filled out our final paperwork and sent in the Making a Good Match questionnaire. We answered questions about how big Caleb is, how many time he wanders or attempts to elope, if he prefers long- or short-haired dogs, among many others.

Now, all we can do is wait! Wait for that e-mail that will tell us a name and show us a picture that will literally change our world. I feel like an expectant mother who is waiting for that ultrasound that will reveal baby's gender. But this process is actually more trustworthy. (They definitely told us Caleb was a girl. We had no clue until he was 5 minutes old. Ha!)

Even with all this stuff done, I feel like my list of things to do is soooo long! I need to reserve the rental car (we finally admitted our minivan would likely not survive the 1600 mile trip there and back), I need to make sure we have enough warm winter clothes to keep this Sunshine State family from freezing in the possibly snowy/icy/slushy Midwest, I need to help design a shirt for our training class, and I need to send in some pictures for our "beg video." A beg video is a beloved tradition at 4 Paws. When the class before yours graduates, your class will start posting creative and adorable videos of the kids asking for their matches. Here's an amazing example: Click here. =)

We're also in the process of organizing a huge fundraiser yard sale. A storage unit was so graciously donated for 3 months and we are filling that sucker up with anything that stands still. Friends and family have also been donating items to sell. On February 9th, we'll be, hopefully, making a big final push towards our fundraising goal. It's been so incredible and very humbling to have such generous support from friends, family and even strangers. This is something that we'll be able to tell our children about for years to come.

On St. Patrick's Day, we will load up the car and start making our way to Xenia to join our class, "Luck o' the Litter," as we finally meet in person and then meet our service dogs! Class will begin on March 19th and we will be there training until graduation on the afternoon of March 29th. We will be working hard and it will be exhausting. We'll be out doing tracking practice (running full speed) rain or shine or snow or ice. We'll be doing class work to learn about the rights and responsibilities of service dog owners. We'll be getting to know our new addition. We'll be trying to keep the kids entertained while Mom and Dad learn how to be handlers. We'll be practicing at night at local malls and restaurants. We'll have all five of us in a hotel room for 2 weeks. We'll be tired. We'll probably be grumpy. But we'll also be starting a new chapter in our family and that makes it all so incredibly worth it!

We finally told the kids that we were getting a "helper dog." It went really, really well! I think the timing has worked out perfectly. It's still so far away that they have no concept that it's coming up quickly. But it wasn't close enough so that they wake up every morning asking if it's today. It's circled on our calendar and they squeal every time they look at March. They seem prepared for the unknown. When someone asks them what kind of dog we're getting, Caleb is quick to inform them, "It doesn't matter! We don't know if it's black or white or red or brown or furry or short or a girl or a boy or big or small but it doesn't matter! We love it already!"

I couldn't have said it better myself!

COUNTDOWN TIMER WIDGET

That Voodoo That You Do So Well

2013-01-07T15:12:00.001-05:00

Caleb was just a baby when we first realized we had access to a strange power to hypnotize our child. We figured maybe it was just a fluke on those first few occasions. But then our suspicions were confirmed when Grace came along. Our very energetic baby who couldn't stand more than 12 minutes in the car? She was easily under the spell as well.

This crazy hypnotic power worked every time. Our children could be so wired and hyped up. They could be struggling against the car seats, melting down from sensory issues, or just going crazy from a long day. We'd start the magic and, literally, it just took about three and a half minutes. Our children would be calm. Still. Sometimes even sleeping!

I'm very tempted to try and sell our amazing secrets for just two easy payments of $19.95. But out of the goodness of my heart, I'm gonna give it to you for free.**

Ready? Are you sure? You know with great power comes great responsibi...okay, fine. Here you go:

Coldplay.

(Especially the X&Y album.)

My working theory is that if you play a Coldplay song backwards, you'll hear subliminal messages telling children to sleeeeep...clooooose your eyes...you're getting very sleeeeeepy.

It makes me want to hug them. Or send them a fruit basket or something.

It's been a while since I thought to use the Coldplay charm. A few days after Christmas, we were all cranked up on that post-holiday craziness. I got out the iPad and, on a whim, thought I'd turn on some Coldplay and see if it still worked.

Here is my photographic evidence of the amazing results. After just 7 minutes, this is what was happening:

3-year-old is SLEEPING!

Husband is SLEEPING!

6-year-old is drawing QUIETLY!

Note the time shown in each picture is 4:07 p.m. Seriously, people, this was all happening in my house at the same time! Do you know what this means? I had a cup of tea and read a book for 37 minutes! In the middle of the afternoon! With everyone home!!

What are you waiting for? You have got to try this for yourself.

Fine Print:

**2 easy payments of $19.95 have been waived in exchange for blog traffic and facebook friends. Because I'm so not above cheap tactics.**

I Will Wait

2013-01-02T12:32:00.001-05:00

Each New Year's Eve usually finds me reminiscing and reflecting on the lessons I've learned throughout that year. Some years' lessons are much more difficult to learn than others. 2010 was especially difficult but, thankfully, I learned some things about being refined and renewed.

2012's lessons can be summed up by learning to wait. There were many situations that required us to wait (hello, nursing school graduation - woot!) but the biggest and most consuming began exactly one year ago.

On January 2, 2012, I published my first post about our situation with the Pepsi Pups. I was blown away by the supportive response. I've never before (and never since) had that many hits and responses to a post.

The lesson that began that day would take most of the year to learn completely.

We were so understandably disappointed and frustrated and angry with the righteous indignation that comes with being an advocate for your child.

When something like that happens, you have a choice. You can pout, cry, maybe even whine a bit and then just sit at home having a pity party. And I'm not gonna lie. I did some of that for a couple of days.

But then, you put your big girl pants on. Better yet, you put on your mama bear pants.

Let me be really, really clear about something here. The actions we, the families, took to right this wrong had nothing to do with vengeance. It had nothing to do with being unable to forgive. It had everything to do with stepping out in faith (after much prayer) and pursuing the path we felt led to take in order to accomplish a couple of things. First, that this would never again happen to any other families. Second, and most importantly, that these kiddos could somehow still receive the service dogs so desperately needed.

It was not an easy path. It was scary. It required me to step so incredibly far outside of my anti-confrontation comfort zone. It opened us up to all kinds of ugliness. It was a very stressful and very long road to go down. But it was the road we were required to walk.

And here's the lesson I learned:

"Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord."

~ Psalm 27:14

I will never forget the night I sat in the driveway and just broke down on Jake's shoulder. I told him that I felt like my very soul was crying out on behalf of these kids. My sweet and practical husband held me close, let me cry it out, and then said, "Have you asked God for what you want to happen?" Of course, we had prayed about this situation many times. Especially when others encouraged us to just drop it. As much as I would have loved to just walk away (believe me it would have been so much easier), it would not stop nagging at me. I couldn't walk away. But he was right. I had not stopped and actually asked God in a very specific manner. So we did. Right there. In the driveway. Out loud. With details.

It was not magic and things did not progress right away.

But something shifted inside my spirit and I was more peaceful. I was learning to wait on the Lord.

Looking back now, exactly one year later, we are able to see how it all came together just as it was supposed to be.

Animals for Autism and Lea Kaydus have faced legal charges. The families who lost money have been reimbursed. Hopefully, that means that this will never again happen to any other family.

And the most amazing and important thing that brings untold joy to my heart? A few of these families who were still very much invested in finding a service dog for their kiddos will have incredible, highly trained service dogs from an amazing organization, 4 Paws for Ability. This organization has so generously stepped in to place these dogs free of charge.

2012 has introduced me to some of the best people I've never met. From the families who have bonded over a shared journey to the 4 Paws network of families, including the families who are sharing the current journey to our March service dog training and graduation.

While 2012 had many trying moments, it seemed that so many of them centered around the words "not yet." Growing up in Sunday School, we learned that God's answers to prayer could be very generally summed up as yes, no, or not yet. This year saw so so so many "not yet" answers. From prayers about finances, prayers about school, prayers about life in general.

2012 taught me to not fear the waiting. 2012 taught me to wait on the Lord and to take heart. 2012 forced me take my favorite sayings that I've claimed loud and proud for the last few years ("Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain." and "Enjoy the journey.") and put my money where my mouth is, so to speak.

And while the journey was bumpy and life did get pretty stormy, I like the lessons I learned. I'm thankful for them. I like how they've changed me. I love the people I've been blessed to know. And it's pretty crazy, but I kinda like the person I'm slowly becoming thanks to these lessons God keeps taking the time to teach me.

So this has been my theme song for 2012. You can find the lyrics (from elyrics.net) below the video.

And I came home
Like a stone
And I fell heavy into your arms
These days of dust
Which we've known
Will blow away with this new sun

And I'll kneel down
Wait for now
And I'll kneel down
Know my ground

And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you

So break my step
And relent
You forgave and I won't forget
Know what we've seen
And him with less
Now in some way
Shake the excess

But I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you

So I'll be bold
As well as strong
And use my head alongside my heart
So take my flesh
And fix my eyes
That tethered mind free from the lies

But I'll kneel down
Wait for now
I'll kneel down
Know my ground

Raise my hands
Paint my spirit gold
And bow my head
Keep my heart slow

Cause I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you

I'll Fly Away

2012-12-29T21:18:00.000-05:00

Oh Christmas morning.

The sweetly twinkling lights. The cozy family time. The looks of joy on the faces of the kiddos as they unwrap surprises.

Priceless!

Sometimes...I'm not gonna lie...Mommy and Daddy's eyes light up, too, when certain gifts are unwrapped. And then we can't wait for our little stinker babies to go to sleep on Christmas night so we can try out their new toys.

Don't give me that look. I bet you've done it, too. Okay, well, at least pretend so I don't feel bad.

This year, the gifts we couldn't wait to ~~steal~~ ~~borrow~~ help the kids try out were a remote controlled bird for Gracie and a remote controlled helicopter for Caleb.

As soon as dinner was finished, we rushed out to my sister's front yard to help them soar.

Someone had to show them how to work it. Selflessly, Jake got the helicopter going and it was awesome! I sacrificially did my mommy duty and got the bird flying and it was so much fun!

Alright, so the bird was a little hard to control. But it wasn't my fault. The least little breeze could send it soaring. Really. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

We had a few close calls and decided to put it away. But we needed a photo op. So we decided to do it one more time. C'mon. You gotta take advantage of having a professional photographer in the family. (And not to shamelessly brag, but he's incredibly talented so you should definitely check out his work here!)

So this is the shot we got. Of Grace watching her bird sail onto the neighbor's roof.

(Still pretty stinkin' cute.)

Photo Credit: Adam Doyle. Used with permission.

We tried everything to get it down but it wouldn't work. So Jake and Adam got out the ladder and climbed up to the neighbor's roof. The neighbor who has security cameras that recorded all kinds of fun. Oops.

We breathed a sigh of relief and then put all flying objects away.

Until...

Poor Gracie still hadn't gotten a chance to fly her bird. I was feeling pretty guilty about having all the fun before the crash roof landing. So I took my sweet girl out to the backyard to fly her bird.

The look of awe on her adorable little face was just priceless. That bright pink macaw was a beautiful sight to see as it flew majestically over our back yard. And then our privacy fence.

It took 27 minutes, a pair of salad tongs, my daughter, a big stick, and four band-aids for the splinters just to get that dang bird back. But the 12 seconds of joy on her face were worth it.

So today, we decided to move our flying fun to the front yard. No fences! The neighbors' roofs were farther away. What could go wrong?

Well...

The helicopter was ambushed by a gust of wind and found its way to the top of a tree. Not to worry. After my successful mission with the salad tongs yesterday, we were well qualified and in control of the situation. So we did what any professional toy retriever would do.

We threw the broom at it.

And as the broom sailed through the air toward the top of the tree, I could almost hear it laughing at us.

This tree and many of our neighbors were mocking us.

About halfway up the tree is when we decided to let the flying machines rest for a while. At least until the neighbors go back to work. And also? I need to work on my piloting. But hey! We learned that my husband's got some climbing skillz, yo.

FYI...Our broom is still in the tree. Sorry, babe!

A Thousand Days

2012-12-15T11:46:00.000-05:00

In October of 2008, my husband was the general manager of a restaurant. He had graduated in 2002 with a business administration degree and spent some years working for The Ritz-Carlton and for a fine dining restaurant.

Where it all started...

Back in the fall of '08, Jake had the opportunity to travel to Nicaragua for a feeding mission project with a group from our church. He felt like he had plenty of experience and helpful knowledge to offer for that kind of trip. Much to his surprise, the purpose of the trip was changed and it was now a medical mission.

My sweet husband? You know...the man who had said many times that he could never be involved in the medical field (and had proved it several times by losing consciousness)? Something happened to him down there. Something we really can't explain. Well, other than to say God seemed to pick him up, turn him 180 degrees and put him back down on a brand new path.

I will never forget the night he returned home. I was about six months pregnant with Grace. We sat down on the couch and he began telling me about his trip and telling me all about this little feeling that wouldn't really leave him alone. He told me all about the kids he was able to help and how he felt he was really able to make a difference. And how he felt like maybe he was supposed to continue that here. We talked about what it would take for him to make that a reality. Nursing School was put on the table. We didn't even know where to start. We spent a few days praying about it and we prayed that God would show us a sign if this was really what we were supposed to do.

The peeps in this pic had no clue just how hard it would be.

Three days later, Jake went to work and he was laid off. His employers realized the best way to save the most money during those crazy economic days would be to eliminate his position and consolidate management between their two restaurant locations.

Talk about a sign. More like a kick in the rear! The application deadline to start prerequisites in January was the very next week. Absolutely perfect timing.

I'm not gonna lie. It was scary. Here we were about to have a new baby and the breadwinner just lost his job and is starting school.

Jake started classes in January '09. Less than a month later, Grace was born. When Grace was born, she had Congenital Hip Dysplasia. (You can read about that incredible story here.) We had to take her to Shands for a few appointments. Jake couldn't go with us. He had to be in class. That was really hard. This was just the first big life event that school totally interfered with.

We took it one day at a time. I was working part-time. Jake got some scholarship funding. We received some financial assistance from family to help with bills. And yet, we still had to do what we needed to do to make ends meet. And in that one statement, there is probably another three or four blog posts about the lessons learned when you are humbled and broken in such a way. It's still somewhat raw, so I will allow myself some time before addressing that experience. But let me offer just a little piece of advice. Be careful of your words and attitude when you are judging others. You never know who you might be including in your political/social rants. A little compassion never hurts. But blanket judgments do.

In December 2010, Jake was halfway through the nursing program. He had been doing excellent work and was building an excellent reputation at the hospital during his clinical rotations. Until this one class with this one teacher. I don't trust myself to keep my emotions in check to elaborate other than to say this. The class average on the final exam was a 60. This brought the class grade down for about half of the class. Down = below the C that is required to move to the next class. Normally, this would be an annoyance. Half of the students would repeat this one class (about 8 weeks) while moving on in the other classes. Not really any bigger a deal than that.

Except...

The nursing program had just implemented a new curriculum. And that particular class that needed to be repeated? It didn't exist anymore.

So now what were those students supposed to do?

Start. Over.

As in...At the BEGINNING. Forget that you had As in the other classes. Forget that you're halfway done.

Start Over.

That same month? Actually, I think it was the same week. We were at Shands again. This time for Caleb. December 17, 2010. Autism Diagnosis Day.

To say it was overwhelming would be the biggest understatement of my life. We had an almost 2-year-old with all the fun terrible two antics that go with it. We had a newly diagnosed 4-year-old with autism and we were figuring out school for him, IEPs, therapies, diets, etc. I had this relentless health issue that we couldn't figure out. (We eventually learned that it was low thyroid with bottomed-out Vitamin D and Vitamin B12 levels, oh and throw in rheumatoid arthritis for kicks.)

I think it was just sheer absolute stubbornness that kept us from quitting.

Two years after that insane setback, here we are.

Four years altogether. Almost half of our marriage. (Our 10th anniversary is in March!)

Four years of classes. Four years of studying 24/7. Four years of night clinicals, then overnight clinicals. Four years of me feeling like a single mom so much of the time (y'all have my undying admiration and respect). Four years of being desperate for a break, desperate for time together, desperate for relief from the constant stress.

Here we are.

4 years.

We did not give up.

1,461 days.

We did it.

Now. About that vacation...

WE DID IT!!!!!!!!

Some Nights

2012-12-12T16:27:00.000-05:00

I haven't written in a long while. Like...forever ever.

I wish there was some interesting reason like I was too busy traveling to exotic places or maybe I was working on my first novel or something.

Unfortunately, the honest reason is that life was just too darn...lifelike. I guess.

The other day, I got a sweet e-mail from a reader who totally encouraged me to keep writing. I was absolutely inspired. I was ready to get started immediately. I pulled up blogger and just sat there staring at it for about 15 minutes.

Hmmm... What to talk about?

I thought it would be fun to update the Christmas Wish List from last year since there's been no mention of plans to get me toilet cleaner this year.

Then I thought I would update on our journey to receive a service dog. Maybe share a funny story from the 2.5 hours of video footage we filmed and sent in. Like this moment...

Or there's always lots of pitiful attempts at making homemade Christmas goodies that I could document. That way, no one would ever feel bad about themselves. (I honestly think it could be possible that my mission in life is to make people feel better about themselves. And not exactly in a Tony Robbins kinda way...more in a "well at least you're not as crazy as that lady" way.)

If I were you, I'd just stick with the beautiful wreaths at http://SouthernCharmWreaths.com!

So, with all of these cheerful, happy options, why oh why do I keep coming back to the depressing doom and gloom?

I've spent many, many nights over the last month or so trying to come up with something fun or cheerful. But some nights, I just want to give in and share what's really going on.

Don't get me wrong...Mercifully, some days, I feel like I am on top of stuff. Obviously, not on top of stuff like that Pinterest-Perfect-Martha-Stewart-Mommy that we all know and love. But some days I do feel like I've got a handle on this whole life thing. Like when the dishes are only in the sink and not spread out over all the counters. Or when there's only a couple of loads of laundry to be done instead of piles that stretch as high as my children.

But some nights, after they're both finally quiet, I sit on the couch, shell-shocked from the day, and wonder if I've really got what it takes.

It seems that just when we've got a handle on the game of motherhood, the rules change. And we're left scrambling to figure it out because there are no instructions. Like that Monopoly game we bought at a yard sale and then after we got home we realized it was missing half its pieces. I guess that's why it only cost $2. We really should have checked before we... Wait. What were we talking about? Oh. Right.

Raise your hand if you'd love one of these in real life!

So yeah. I really wanted my first post back to be lighthearted, cheerful, maybe even filled with holiday spirit.

But all I've got right now is what's real.

And what's real is that with autism and this season of crazy schedules, extra sugar, blinking lights and forced fun, December turns out to be like a month-long hyped up rave for my kiddos. And in our house, that leads to more frequent meltdowns with more impulsive aggression and more maternal guilt and stress as I sit on the couch in a hormonal pity party and paranoidly wonder when DCF is going to show up at my door to announce that I am officially doing it all wrong.

(And yes, "paranoidly" is a real word. Starting now.)

Some nights, I wonder if there are any other moms out there feeling the same way. I bet there are. And I hope we always remember that we are out there. Our struggles may look a bit different, but we're all muddling through as best we can. And it's so much more fun to muddle through together!

Next time you find yourself in a hormonal pity party, come join mine at http://facebook.com/stinkerbabies.

I'll be there. Hopefully with some feel-better-about-yourself distractions like this one:

Someone was very, very, VERY naughty. And, this time, it wasn't the kids!

Seriously, Ann Coulter? Seriously?

2012-10-23T10:48:00.001-04:00

Usually I stay out of this stuff.

You will not catch me talking politics on here. Ever. If you look at my voter registration card, it will say No Party Affiliation.

So I don't know if I could even tell you what side Ann Coulter is on. And I really don't care.

Last night, this woman (who people listen to for whatever reason) tweeted this commentary on the presidential debate:

Way to keep it classy, Ann.

Seriously, Ann?

I thought we had moved forward from using this word.

According to Wikipedia, "Ann Hart Coulter is an American lawyer, conservative social and political commentator, author, and syndicated columnist. She frequently appears on television, radio, and as a speaker at public events and private events."

Public speaker? Author? Columnist? Commentator?

Ann. Honey. With that resume, you must have thousands and thousands of vocabulary choices in your word bank. And yet you couldn't come up with anything else? Decided to go with "retard," huh?

Seriously?

I'm not totally naive. I know it will take a while to purge our vocabulary of that hateful word.

I will even admit to using it a hundred years ago when I was young and ignorant and thought I was so hilarious.

That was before.

Before I met some of the most amazing human beings I will ever have the honor and privilege to meet.

Before I realized that every time anyone uses that word for any reason, it is hurtful to those very same people.

People who might happen to be in the contained ESE class. People who may happen to ride a special bus to school. People who you, Ann, would likely refer to as "retard."

People who are a million times more loving, funny, smart, kind, and compassionate than anyone who would use that word.

People like my baby.

Take a good look at him.

I hope you remember him.

Because one day, it's entirely likely that he will change the world.

And for your sake, I hope he doesn't remember that one time you called him "retard."

Please visit these other sites to meet more amazing people that Ann Coulter so casually hurt with her ignorant words:

More Than I Can Handle

2012-10-17T17:42:00.000-04:00

Let me preface this post with a warning. This might be a bit different than my usual. I've had some of these thoughts bouncing around for a while but didn't know how to get them out. This post will probably be scattered. It might get raw and even ugly. But it will be honest. And it will be real. Deep breath. Here we go.

So I know this isn't any kind of newsflash for you, but life is hard.

When we're growing up, we imagine how our lives might be. I was one of those realistic kids. I'd seen my mom, in particular, overcome some tremendous hardships in her life. I knew that life would have its ups and downs.

I knew that chances were high that we might struggle with jobs or finances or kids or our health.

I guess even with all my realism, I didn't really expect to struggle with all of them. At the same time. We are very blessed in many ways. I know that and I'm very grateful for each and every one. I won't go into a detailed list of the stresses of our life right now. But so many times, even with all our blessings, it can all seem completely overwhelming.

"Oh honey. Bless your heart. Remember God doesn't give you more than you can handle."

We've all heard that, right?

Well guess what?

It's crap.

God gives us more than we can handle all the time.

And even though I know that in my head? It seems that lately I've been needing a heart lesson, too.

One day last week, when both of our cars were falling apart and the bank account was in the red and my RA was flaring and we seemed to run out of everything at once and autism had me out behind the woodshed again and Jake was gone 24/7 for school, I found myself sobbing on the floor in the kitchen.

Overwhelmed.

Broken.

It was more than I could handle.

And I sat on the kitchen floor and I cried out to God for help. For mercy. For comfort. For peace.

And that's when I (eventually) realized that, of course, this is more than I can handle. I was never meant to handle it alone. It was time for me to humble myself and admit that I couldn't do this on my own.

I hope you're not thinking that this story ends here with my admission suddenly causing things to magically fall into place and bring about a sudden reward for having learned my lesson. Maybe it happens that way in the movies. Not in real life.

I begged God for some kind of encouragement or special word that would show me that He heard my desperate appeal.

It didn't happen that way. Instead? Different Bible verses popped into my head. Scripture that talked about God's promises of peace, hope and His plan for our lives. But still...Instead of me suddenly feeling all better with the warm fuzzies, it was more like if I repeated them enough, they would eventually take root.

I realized this was one of those times when my faith is shown by choosing to believe it. Even when I don't necessarily feel it. And I was reminded that one of the reasons I need to study the Word is so those promises and reassurances are somewhere in my stressed-out brain when I find myself overwhelmed and broken.

I love this song by BarlowGirl that says, "I cry out with no reply and I can't feel you by my side so I'll hold tight to what I know...You're here and I'm never alone."

Faith isn't always about feelings. It's about choosing to believe even when (especially when?) those feelings aren't there.

I don't have it all figured out. One thing I've learned for sure is that we're never done learning.

"I don't know how you do it."

That's another one that I've heard quite a bit. And the truth is that I don't do it. I couldn't possibly. Not by myself.

I hope this post hasn't come across as preachy because that's not how it's meant and I'm definitely in no position to preach. I just hope it might possibly be a small encouragement to someone else who might find herself sobbing on the kitchen floor.

If that's you today, take a few minutes to listen to this song and breathe. Because no matter how strong we are, we'll never be strong enough to do this whole life thing on our own. And we don't have to be.

Matthew West - Strong Enough (Official Music Video) from matthew-west on GodTube.

An Open Letter to a Real Housewife

2012-09-24T13:57:00.000-04:00

Update:
For those who might not know, Jacqueline Laurita is a cast member of The Real Housewives of New Jersey. She has recently shared that her youngest son, Nicholas, was diagnosed with autism. For more information about the article in People Magazine, click here. For more information on Jacqueline, visit her home on the web. You can also find Jacqueline on Facebook and on Twitter.

*****************************************************

Dear Jacqueline,

You've never met me, but I think we might know each other a little. If you look past my small house and my beat-up minivan that I struggle to keep clean and if you can excuse my daily uniform of wrinkled tee-shirts and yoga pants, you'll find we have something in common.

You see, I've been there.

It probably started with a funny feeling. I know that feeling. It almost feels like a little flip of your tummy. That odd feeling leads to questions that you're not quite ready to ask out loud just yet. And you worry that if you give a voice to your fears, they might become real.

When you finally found the courage to release those fears that you once guarded and protected, you might have found that they were disregarded, belittled even. You might have been told that you're overreacting. You might have heard that you're paranoid. Attention-seeking. He'll outgrow it. He just needs discipline. We've heard it all, haven't we?

Then you probably entered No Man's Land. That frustratingly long time between the first tug on your mommy's instinct until you have an answer. For me, this was the worst part. You now know you're part of something different, but you're not completely sure just what it might be. You do a lot of soul-searching. You do a lot of research. You consume every book and article you can get your hands on. You begin to see your sweet baby in a new light. No, he hasn't changed. But his whole life will flash before your eyes. You'll begin to get acquainted with the idea. You'll want to reach out to people who get it. You'll want to hear their stories and tell yours. But you won't have an exact answer yet. You might feel like you need a membership card that you haven't been given yet.

Then D-Day came. You finally had your answer. And no matter how familiar you got with the idea, no matter how much soul-searching and acceptance might have happened, you probably still felt sad. And that's okay. Whatever you felt was okay. It was yours to feel. I've been there. I know.

I guess this letter might be presumptuous. Even though I think of myself as a fairly level-headed person, I'm (apparently) still one of those people who feel like they know you because they tune in on Sunday night.

But celebrity or no celebrity, I imagine that at your core, you're a mom. An autism mom. And we stick together and look out for each other. Because we get it.

We. Get. It.

Sometimes, after an autism diagnosis, you will feel lonely even (especially?) in the most crowded places. I saw the recent episode of you guys at a playdate. You were off to the side with your sweet boy while the others ran and played. I heard the moms encourage you to join the fun. And I cried. Because I have been there. I remember that feeling.

You are not alone.

You will find that some friendships become stronger and some bonds are tried and proven. Sadly, some friends will fade away to the background of your life. It will hurt at first, but eventually, you'll find that it's okay.

I hope that you've found your community. There is an amazing support system online. This is one example of the internet being a miracle. I don't know what I would have done without the connections I've made to my fellow autism moms.

You will have good days and you will have bad days. There will be days when you feel like Supermom. There will also be days when you feel like autism has taken you out behind the woodshed and kicked your butt.

You will have a million different requests come in. So many different groups (wonderful groups) will want you to add your name or your picture or your support to their fundraising event or their awareness campaign. Give yourself permission to say no. You can't do it all. Do not feel guilty about saying no. You're human.

At the end of the day, it's about your family. It's about those little moments that most take for granted. They will become awesome reasons for celebration. And we will celebrate with you. Because that's how our community is.

We welcome you with open arms. And a glass of wine. Or two.

Sincerely,

Ashley, fellow autism mom

A Mile in Different Shoes

2012-09-20T23:15:00.000-04:00

We have always counted our health as a huge blessing in our family.

We've had a few chances to get up close and personal with our friendly neighborhood medical staff. But nothing big or chronic. And we've always been especially grateful for our kids' health.

I have several friends whose children have different medical needs and challenges. Those needs range in severity and they range in necessary care and treatment. I've always admired the strength and courage with which my friends face the daily challenges. ("Face the daily challenges" = totally kick butt.)

But I have a new appreciation for just how much strength and courage is actually required.

Last week, we had to take Caleb in for a 48-hour video monitored EEG to evaluate any seizure activity that may be going on (absence seizures). This required an admission the pediatric floor of our local hospital.

We checked in early Tuesday morning. He was so excited about being in a tall building, riding the elevator, watching TV and eating his meals in bed on a tray. He knew he had to get the electrodes placed on his head again and didn't mind that a bit. He was so excited.

And then the first thing we had to do was break his heart. He had to have an IV placed as a standard precautionary measure and to draw labs. Once he figured out what was going on, it took three of us to hold him down and two IV attempts. Many people asked me if it was any better than the last time (What Color is Your Blood?). The short answer is no. The long answer is heck no.

You could hear him screaming all over the pediatric floor. Not just screaming. He was just devastated and trying to reason with us. He was screaming, "Please! I'm not here for this!! I'm here to get the things on my head! Stop stealing my blood! NOOO! YOU'RE STEALING MY BLOOOOOOOOD!"

When they weren't able to get access on his left side, they moved to his right side. With our focus on keeping him from hurting himself, we didn't notice that his left hand was bleeding all over the place. Mostly just on me and the only pair of jeans I own. Which I then had to wear up and down the halls of the hospital, looking like I had narrowly escaped a horror movie.

After that drama, he had to go and get the electrodes placed. To do that, they use a strong and very smelly adhesive that needs some help to dry. They use this little hose that looks a bit like a dental tube and makes a loud noise when it's running.

See where this is going?

I had to physically hold him down for about half of the electrodes being placed. And there are lots of them.

After the placement, they wrapped his head up like a turban and the wires connected to a piece of equipment that he got to carry around in a little backpack. The other end of the equipment plugged into the wall. He had to stay pretty much in the bed the whole time.

Which brings me to this: Thank you, Lord, for Legos. Best ten dollars I ever spent. Like...EVER. One box of Legos could make three different vehicles. And he made all three of them. Twice.

Before we broke his heart. And my pants.

He finally fell asleep at about 11:00. We had to leave the lights on, so I dozed at midnight. And 2 am. And 5 am. And I gave up at sunrise.

The next morning, I just kept thinking about those parents up and down the hall. Their children were having a very different experience than Caleb's.

You know something? Honestly? After the needles, he was actually kinda living it up. He wasn't sick. He didn't feel bad.

He got to choose what he wanted to eat (pizza). He had it served to him in bed in front of Disney Jr. Pretty ladies kept coming in to chat with him and praise his Lego engineering genius. Some brought therapy dogs to play. Some brought art projects.

Pizza, brownie, Disney Jr, and pretty ladies make for a not-so-bad stay.

I cannot imagine what it must have been like for the parents in the room next door or across the hall.

I just wanted to go up and down the hall, passing out crazy-lady-bear-hugs to each and every one of them.

It did not take a mile of walking in the shoes of those who kick butt. It just took a walk around the block.

I was exhausted and overwhelmed and admittedly a little anxious with the uncertainty of what the tests will show or what the future might hold for that sweet, caring, lovable little Lego genius of mine. And this hospital stay was so itty bitty in the grand scale of medical issues.

Do you know someone who is the parent of a child who has medical needs and challenges, someone who is all too familiar with the routine of hospital stays, someone who might be overwhelmed, exhausted or anxious about their child's future?

Give them a crazy-lady-bear-hug from me. And chocolate. And wine! Lots of wine. But mostly the hug.

We won't know the results of the EEG for another 5 weeks. In the week since we were released from the hospital, Caleb has developed pneumonia. So we'll take some of those hugs and prayers while you're giving them out. Thanks!! =)

Century

2012-09-05T21:23:00.002-04:00

Caleb and Uncle Willie in September 2006

What would a snapshot of the last 100 years look like?

Can you wrap your mind around all the history you would have witnessed?

From potty training to your first schooldays, you would have lived in a world that waged war in seemingly all corners of the earth. Would you have had an understanding of all that was happening? Would you have had to grow up before your time?

As a young child, you might have watched your mother, grandmother, or aunt cast their first votes.

You would have graduated from high school and begun to make your way in the world around 1930. Just as the Great Depression began its choke hold on our nation.

There would be incredible achievements in technology. Can you imagine seeing the world of music shrink from a a piece of furniture to something slightly bigger than a postage stamp? Or working as a computer programmer at the dawn of the computer age?

How about travel? The Titanic sank just before you were born. Then, you listened amazed and in total awe when Neil Armstrong spoke those famous words. Now you've even seen a vehicle land on Mars and transmit video.

Can you imagine it? Can you wrap your mind around having a front row seat to all that history?

My amazing great-uncle did have that front row seat and, as you can imagine, he had the most incredible stories.

Uncle Willie at his 99th birthday party

We couldn't wait to head down to Ocala on Saturday to celebrate Uncle Willie's 100th birthday at a great big party with over 60 of his beloved family. While we were packing up the car, I got a phone call from my parents. Uncle Willie had died peacefully in his sleep just a couple of hours earlier.

Uncle Willie was truly one-of-a-kind.

Though he never had children, he had 106 nieces, nephews, greats, and great-greats that he loved as if they were his own. And, boy, did all 106 love him! Caleb and Grace (two of his great-greats), who didn't see him often in their short lives, would each receive a birthday card every single year without fail. While visiting his home this weekend, I was moved to tears when I saw two framed photos of Caleb hanging on his wall alongside old family portraits.

Uncle Willie through the years

Once, when Uncle Willie was in his 80s, he saw my little brother do a headstand. Uncle Willie told us that he used to be able to do that and wondered if he still could. And so he did. He stood on his head in the middle of my grandma's front yard just to see if he still could. He was very agile! He walked about 8 miles a day until he was well into his 90s. Then he had to "cut back" to about 4 miles a day.

We spent the three hours' drive telling our favorite Uncle Willie stories.

And, if you're wondering? Yes. We absolutely still had Uncle Willie's birthday party with so many of his beloved nieces and nephews, his brother and sister, and the in-laws he loved just as if they'd been born into his family tree. He was so happy to know that we were all coming to celebrate. So celebrate, we did, with laughter through tears.

Which is exactly what he would have wanted.

Pepsi Pup Scam: The End?

2012-08-23T22:32:00.000-04:00

This is the third time I've sat down at the computer to try and work through the information and updates we've received during the last 24 hours.

Each time, I've stared blankly at the computer and my mind started wandering to the ups and downs of the past year. Once a tear or two escapes, I know I'm doomed and I give up and walk away.

Not this time.

This time when I sat down, this quote kept flashing in my mind's eye:

~ Chicago Tribune, Monica Eng, 8/23/12

"A heartless scam."

This is what the Pepsi Refresh grant funded.

This is what Pepsi ignored when we tried to ask them questions. I have three e-mails addressed to Terri Maini dated 11/3/11, 11/28/11, and 12/3/11. All were ignored.

The other families actually did make contact with Pepsi. They were told that Lea Kaydus had been checked out and we must just have a personal problem with her. Pepsi was so proud of their glorious grantee, they even shared her press release on their website.

A press release that included all ten of our children's names, their parents' full names, their locations, their diagnoses, and the fact that they are prone to wandering. Information that was not theirs to give. No one signed release forms to allow that.

This, along with many other press releases, is STILL posted on the internet.

"The organization targeted parents of children with autism..."

You would think Pepsi would have a big problem with this. Maybe even want their money back.

And yet, there she sits. In her $50,000 kennel that she uses to breed and sell, breed and sell, breed and sell. There are plenty of their puppy ads on the websites.

The puppy mill that Pepsi built.

I know what you're thinking. Surely, if we could figure out that she was a fraud back in November...SURELY, the grant administrators would have found something on her. After all, they're supposed to complete due diligence, right?

When the families took their concerns to GlobalGiving about one year ago, we were told that she was an honor to work with and we just needed to be patient. It was implied that we were ungrateful, impatient idiots who needed to just shut up and stop making trouble.

We had to deal with the general public somehow assuming that we were hysterical parents. Like in this article from Stroller Derby: "Global Giving sets the record straight about the Pepsi Refresh grantee and the 'missing' Autism dogs."

She helps Global Giving "set the record straight." That still stings.

My favorite part? "At the very minimum, it appears that GlobalGiving is fully aware of what is going on with the Animals for Autism grant."

Interestingly enough, I totally agree with that statement.

I absolutely believe they were fully aware of what was going on. After all, they did send representatives to Illinois to see with their very own eyes what was taking place. One family was told that the GlobalGiving employees saw 20 dogs in training. And yet, just a few days later, the reporters who were there couldn't find more than 2 sickly looking dogs used for breeding.

Since then, the employee who was in charge of supervising this grant has had a position change. No longer a grant supervisor, her new role is the "Champion for Customer Bliss." Her duties? She "leads the charge in making sure our customers are delighted with their experience at GlobalGiving." Hope that's working out.

The Attorney General has filed charges against Lea Kaydus / Animals for Autism. You can see the official press release here: Madigan Sues 'Animals for Autism' Charity for Fraud.

I'm happy the she will be required to refund the money to those four families.

But that's just not enough.

She used our children to gain $50,000. I can't even imagine what $50,000 could do for any one of these special needs families that have been completely used and heartbroken.

Pepsi used our children to promote themselves and their grant program. They showed complete irresponsibility in posting personal and medical information about our children with absolutely no permission to do so.

Pepsi lied to us. GlobalGiving lied to us.

I'm not only upset with Lea Kaydus. We figured out early on that she was a criminal.

What really, really makes me upset is that Pepsi and GlobalGiving had many opportunities to tell us the truth. They had so many chances to free us to pursue other options.

We could have followed other avenues and gotten service dogs from other organizations. Organizations like 4 Paws for Ability, who have since stepped in and offered to place service dogs at no cost to at least three of these families.

Do you know what could have been prevented in that amount of wasted time?

The children of our families have suffered head injuries from seizures that could have been alerted to by a service dog. There have been other injuries to themselves and others, property damage, emotional turmoil, and sensory nightmares that could have had the intensity lessened by dogs that we didn't have.

Because Pepsi, GlobalGiving, and Lea Kaydus worked together to steal that time from us with their lies.

So. With the official charges filed against Lea Kaydus, with the requirement that she promise to pay back the families, with her word that she won't do this again, with this ridiculously minor slap on the wrist for just one of the parties involved...Is this the end of this horribly stressful time?

I don't think so. Not even close.

You can find more information at the following links:

WICS ABC 20 out of Springfield, Illinois - Mike Brooks reporting - 8/22/12
WICS ABC 20 out of Springfield, Illinois - Mike Brooks reporting - 8/23/12 - The statement about the charges affecting the Pepsi Grant are a misprint. Pepsi has had no comment and as of publication is allowing her to keep the $50,000.
Chicago Tribune - Monica Eng reporting - 8/23/12
A "Shadow" of Our Past - Elizabeth at Speaking4Sam
Animals for Autism ~ Finally - Allison at Mommy Rambles

Drink Coke.

Foggy Mountain (Mental) Breakdown

2012-07-09T23:31:00.002-04:00

WE SURVIVED.

One week of tent camping in the mountains with my parents, their dog, and our kids. And a heat wave. And farm animals. And a water shortage. And a bear.

WE SURVIVED!!

Before I start rambling about our crazy mountain adventures, I want to go ahead and tell you the end. It was a great time overall. The kids had tons of fun and made loads of good memories and that's what it was all about. Just wanted to get that out of the way. Just in case the post takes a turn for the negative. Which it might. Because the negative stuff was funny. Well. It's funny now, anyway, in the comfort of my air conditioned living room.

This moment right here makes it all worth it.

Allison from Mommy Rambles was the big winner of the nonexistent prize but earned declaration of Road Trip Genius with her guess of 7 hours and 2 Valium. It took 8 hours and no Valium, but only because I didn't have any.

As we drove through Georgia, the temperatures kept going up, up, and up. This picture was in Atlanta.

Yep. That says 109 degrees.

At this point, I would have popped my first Valium. If I had any.

Just a couple hours later, we pulled into Enota Mountain Retreat, our outdoor home away from home for the next week.

It was beautiful.

Our campsites were along a beautiful creek that provided exactly the right amount of white noise to be soothing.

There were neighbors but not too close to be bothered or be a bother.

It seemed like the perfect beginning to a perfect vacation.

Except one little thing.

There was a break in one of the water pipe things. So there was no water for showers or flushing. But no worries, because they were working on it and it should be fixed right away.

The next day was just a few degrees cooler. Only 104 that day. We spent the day exploring Helen with my college roomie and her sweet family. We got back to the campground just in time to take the kids on the farm tour.

A very hands-on tour that starts with holding bunnies. Then the kids get to feed and pet the miniature horses. Next is milking the cow. Yes. We got to milk the cow.

It. Was. Awesome. Very smelly. But totally awesome for this family of wanna be country bumpkins.

A perfect day at camp. Except...they STILL hadn't fixed the water.

Two days of traveling and farm chores in a heat wave. And no showers.

Yes. It was as bad as you're thinking. Even my trusty Chanel couldn't have fixed that.

But it's all good. Because that night, the heat wave broke.

How, you ask?

Why, with a simple night full of torrential downpours, incredibly frequent and CLOSE lightning, and deafening thunder. All. Night. Long. ALL NIGHT.

I thought we were going to either A) get struck by lightning, B) have a tree fall on us because it got struck by lightning, C) wash away from the flash flooding, or D) all of the above.

But we survived the night and it actually cooled things down.

The next day gave us some new neighbors across the creek. It was an extended family of 4 adults and 5 or 6 kids in an RV. They had one child whose only communication seemed to be ear-piercing, brain-numbing screams. Now. With all of our own vocal stims that we bring to the party, I am the last person on the face of this earth to judge that child/family for that. It doesn't mean that it makes it easy to deal with when the screaming starts at dawn and lasts all day long. All day every day for 4 days straight.

Any given ten minute stretch would look like this:

Child: "SCREEEEEAAAAAM!!!"
Father: Yells in a different language at the top of his lungs right into the kid's face.
Child: "SHRIEEEEEEEEK!! SHRIEEEEEEEK!!! SCREEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAM!"
Father: Yells even louder in a different language at anyone close by.
Child's sibling pokes, prods, or steals something from child.
Child: "SCREEEEEEAAAAAM!!!!!!!"

For. Four. Days.

And then at about 11:00 pm when the screams finally stopped, the parents would sit outside their RV and blast music, dance, drink, and laugh hysterically.

So all my fears seemed to have been coming up so I could just face them and get it over with.
1. ~~Heat Stroke.~~
2. ~~Being Stinky.~~
3. ~~Not Sleeping.~~
4. ~~Horrific Storms.~~
5. Wild Animals.

I will admit to letting my imagination run away with me a bit on the last one. There was a bathroom that was closer to our site but next to the dumpster. I refused to go to that one after dark because I was afraid the bears would be getting into the trash and then eat me.

By the time Wednesday came around, though, I had kinda gotten the hang of things. I was feeling good. I was tough. Outdoorsy. I mean, c'mon...I had survived major storms. I had toughed out being smelly. I was going on little sleep. I was earning my camp badge, dang it.

I was ready for that last trek to the bathroom before going to sleep.

I thought, you know what? I can DO this. There are lots of people. There are lots of dogs. There's no way there's any wild animal that would want to come in here. I am brave! I am a CAMPER! But just in case I'm going to the bathroom next to the RVs and not the dumpster.

So I grab the flashlight, proudly inform my husband where I'm heading, and start out with a confident step. I was just a few yards from turning into the bathhouse area when I saw it.

A BEAR. A flippin' BEAR, y'all.

It came casually strolling out from in between two RVs about 50 feet in front of me.

I gasped and it looked right at me. We both froze and stared at each other for what seemed like an hour but was probably about 2.75 seconds.

I couldn't remember what you were supposed to do! Should I scream? Run? Should I drop to the ground and play dead? Should I start banging on the door to the closest RV?? Even as I was staring at the bear, convinced I was about to be mauled, I had too much pride to scream or bang on the door.

The bear took off up the trail away from me, but I just knew it was probably hiding in the bushes, watching and waiting for me to show fear so it could attack.

So I did what any seasoned, confident, brave camper would do.

I ran backwards all the way to my tent.

This is the bear I'm convinced I saw.
(Google Images)

This is the bear I actually saw.
(Google Images)

As I lay in bed that night, my bladder screaming at me for being too arrogant to accept the offer of a borrowed tent toilet, I realized that I could go ahead and cross everything off my list.

So I did.

And the rest of the trip was great. A lot of work. But great.

And next summer? Next summer, I'm thinking we can camp at a Motel 6.

Daydream Believer

2012-06-29T21:00:00.000-04:00

In 12 hours, we will be somewhere on a Georgia road.

I will have said a tearful goodbye to my microwave, fridge, and bed. I may have even left a sappy love note for my air conditioner.

We will be headed into the unknown.

And that goes against everything in my need-to-control-everything nature.

I feel like we're as prepared as we can be.

We have a roomy tent that we've practiced setting up and we've sealed all the seams to prevent leaks.

We have air beds and sleeping bags.

I have travel kits ready for the kids with tons of activities, courtesy of the dollar aisle at Target.

But then, as we're looking for first aid kits, I spot a snake bite kit. It consists of an incredibly strong suction pump so...you know...when your child is bitten by a rattlesnake, you don't have to pull out your swiss army knife and slice their hand all up.

Awesome.

And thus starts the downward spiral of my daydreams into recurring nightmares.

It's quite a long fall from the admittedly naive daydreams of peace and quiet, laughter and giggles as we get back to nature and enjoy the wonder and awe of the mountains and waterfalls God created.

Now, when I close my eyes, I see snakes getting into our tent and snuggling up in bed with us. I see our campsite neighbors being annoyed by the variety of vocal stims coming with us and getting us kicked out of the park. I see us telling the kids to stop and them not listening and stepping right into the path of a bear. I see Caleb wandering away and getting lost somewhere in the million acres of national forest that once seemed like a peaceful haven.

Reality? Statistics say our trip will live up to the expectations found somewhere in the middle of those two extremes.

I know it won't be all sunshine and rainbows. I also know it won't be rabid panthers and criminally insane escapees. Well...probably not, anyway.

I'm trying to harness my anxious thoughts and focus on what this trip means to us.

It's our very first family vacation that we've ever been able to take together.

It's 7 days...in a row...that we'll get to spend making memories together before Jake heads back to his final semester of nursing school and we don't see him for days at a time.

I'm going to choose to be cautiously optimistic. I'm going to choose to embrace the crazy situations that come up as memories in the making that we'll (hopefully) laugh at in ten years.

And because ten years is a long time and I want SOMEONE to be able to laugh at the abundance of cray cray that is bound to arise, I will be posting frequent updates on my Facebook page. Microblogging my Griswold mountain mania might be just the thing to help me stay sane...ish.

Join me over at http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Stinker-Babies/132669040123339 or you can just look over there on the sidebar to the right and hit that "like" button.

I'm gonna start it out with a contest.

(Small Print: Please be advised that this contest has no prize because we have no money. Hello...we're camping. I know I make it sound noble with all that back to nature crap, but let's face it...if we had money, we'd be at Disney World or on a cruise ship.)

So the contest consists of a guessing game: Who can guess the number of hours it will take our circus train to reach the campground?

Without just coming right out and announcing our GPS coordinates, I can tell you we will be driving from the Florida panhandle to the northeast corner of Georgia. There will be one adult with ADD, one adult who will be grumpy because she just wants to make time, two small-bladdered and sensory-sensitive kids who do not like being restrained in car seats, and two other adults who will be bringing their much-adored small dog. (You know I love y'all, Mom and Dad! And Sophie, too.)

Whoever gets the closest answer will be announced on the Stinker Babies Facebook page and very publicly proclaimed as a total road trip genius.

And, by all means, if you see us somewhere along I-75 tomorrow, please say hi! And give me wine.