Happy Birthday Isaiah

In the scary hours after our second son was born, I was told I shouldn't have anymore babies. Thank God we didn't listen to that doctor. I can't imagine for one second our lives without Isaiah. From the second he was born, he has been a ray of sunshine for everyone who he meets. He is the same way now as he was as a baby, even tempered and happy, not much phases him. He always has a smile, hug, or laugh for everyone.

Today my little guy turns five. Part of me is heartbroken, the other part is so proud of the little man he is quickly becoming. Pre-k graduation is around the corner and in the fall, I send him out into the big bad world of Elementary school. I am not worried about him as much as I was the other two, he is academically and socially a pro. But he is still my BABY.

Today daddy and I let him skip school and took him to spend his birthday cash, to Build a Bear, and to a special lunch. The kid never ceases to amaze me. He made sure almost every toy he bought could be shared with his brothers. A snow cone machine, a bubble machine, movies, all things that all three can enjoy. I adore his heart.

He is funny.

And oh so cute.

Wake Me When It Is Time

When we were little, the three of us kids used pretend to sleep for "days", to make time go faster, you know because we reasoned that time went fast at night. I remember one summer break we were going to Wet and Wild(a water park)on a weekend, so Monday we piled into one bed, determined to sleep until the weekend. Of course it only lasted a few hours and we couldn't take it anymore, we had to run and play. The weekend came on it's own time and we had a blast at Wet and Wild.

I feel like doing that right now. I desperately want to speed up this pregnancy, at least until I KNOW the baby is okay. I haven't blogged since I announced it, because I am kinda paralyzed. I am fighting with fear almost every minute. Each day that passes I become more hopeful, more attached, yet there is more to lose.

I am going to do my best not to turn my blog into a bunch of paranoid, whining, pregnancy crap. So if I am quiet for a while, you can pretty much count on the fact that I am rocking in a corner poking my boobs, to see if they still hurt.

Surprise!

I have always loved the saying, "You plan, God laughs".

I used to be a neurotic planner, but parenthood has created enough chaos that I know it's just not reasonable anymore.

We planned to take this month of from trying to have a baby. I even had a few drinks, a few times, something I haven't EVER done. We relaxed and it was nice. I was a little miffed when my period didn't show, but wasn't concerned, after all we tried NOT to get pregnant.

I tested a few days later, just to be sure, and as I expected it was negative. Still no monthly friend. So I tested again and again negative. I figured I was just going to skip a month. Not normal, but it has happened.

I started to feel awful; falling asleep on the couch, dizzy, hungry, grouchy, an my boob hurt like hell. I figured I had horrible PMS, but when we were cashing out that the $store I grabbed a cheapy test. I took it in a mall bathroom, because pregnancy tests in my possession MUST BE TAKEN.

And holy crap there was a SUPER light line. So I ran out and got a more expensive one and holy hell it was positive too.

Still not satisfied that it was a mistake, the next day, I took these:

How do you argue when it says PREGNANT?

I've had very bad luck in the fertility department for the past few years, so I am a bit of a nervous wreck. I tested again today, desperate to see the lines get darker. They are a tiny bit darker, but not what I hoped to see. So I wait and pray the lines don't stop coming and this baby keeps growing.

I look back on my pregnancies with my three boys, before all the loss and pain, and remember taking a test and just assuming I was having a baby in 9 months. I wish so damn badly I could go back to that blissful ignorance.

I am trying to be calm and almost detached from it all right now, but it is not possible. In my mind I am picking names and outfits.

The Time My Head Exploded on Facebook

****If you are one of the few conservative friends I have left, just skip this post. Love ya****

I admit, I am a horrible person, when it comes to political stuff, especially on Facebook.

If I went to High School with you 13 years ago, we haven't talked in person, some how became friends on Facebook, and you post something totally ignorant, I am am going to HIDE or un-friend you. Wow that was a run on sentence.


Since the election I have learned, if a friend request is a fan of either; Glen Beck, Fox News, Sarah Palin, the Teabaggers, or George W. you will be DENIED. Sorry. I just can't take it.

This little rant leads to my head exploding.

Yesterday, while avoiding housework, I was playing on Facebook. I landed on a post from a clearly redneck high school "friend" ranting about Obama taking away the National Day of Prayer. This was not the first post of that nature I had read yesterday. Just like the others, I just linked the Snopes story that clarified that Obama in NO way planned on stopping the day of prayer, despite the fact it was deemed unconstitutional.


No, I am not saying he should have canceled it, in fact I will not give an opinion on it at all.

Well everyone else I linked to the articles that proved he was not planning on canceling it quietly erased their posts. Not this dude, who for the sake of identity, we will call Bubba. NO Bubba wanted to fight. Which is cool, I am always down for a brawl debate. He wasn't even the one that made my head explode, it was his friends...
Here is a rundown of the comments on the post:

me:linking to the articles

Bubba:oh YOU are one of the uninformed people who voted for that man, ain't you.

Me:Yes, I proudly voted for Obama. I was and continue to be well informed. Which is why I am INFORMING you that story is not true.

Bubbetta (female friend):Well I saw it on FOX news so it MUST be true.

*HOLY SHIT THAT IS WHERE MY HEAD EXPLODED*

Bubba#2:I hear he is going to tax every gallon of gas we get.

Bubba#3:I hear he is going to take away our right to fish.

Bubba:That man is just NO GOOD for our great country

me:let me guess you all think he is a Muslim still?

Bubba: YES

Finally my brain could take no more. I blocked him. Sweet baby Jesus, he wants to take away our right to go fishin'? What is this world coming to?

Wordless Wenesday: Butterflies

Spring Break

This week was the kiddos spring break from school. Up until this year, I would have been dreading this week. Really sick to my stomach with dread. This year was totally different, I was looking forward to it.

Why?

First, hubby took the week off too, so we had an entire of week of family time. Second, my kids are fun. I LOVED having babies and toddlers and really worried about the next phase of childhood. Now that we are here, I am loving it. They are still young enough to need and want me, but old enough to be pretty independent. All in all, it rocks.

We went on egg hunts, to the beach, flew kites, to the movies, shopping, out to eat, watched movies at home, fired up the bbq for the first time,and just reveled in lazy spring time fun.



Hubby has to go back to work tomorrow and the kids and I are headed off to a big birthday party. School starts again on Monday, sigh. I say bring on summer.

Wordless Wednesday: For Maddie

Words fail me today. Surrounding Heather, Mike, Maddie, Annie, and Rigby in light and love.

Hate

I have been following the story of Constance for weeks now. She is the Mississippi teen, who fought hard for the right to bring her girlfriend to prom, and won according to the courts. What she didn't know was that that the parents is this ASSBACKWARDS town planned a private prom, with the exclusive purpose of not allowing Constance to attend. She went to what she thought was prom, with seven other students, several of them special needs. She has remained poised and graceful through this all.

Reading this tonight I was LIVID. I was not alone. Twitter and Facebook were full of posts, most of which were shocked and saddened. Another blogger wrote in far more eloquent words than I can, but I have to speak out as well.

Let me back track a bit first, many of you who have read me for a while have noticed some changes, though I still believe in God, I am no longer a "Christian blogger". I am not for many reasons, some personal that I am still working out, but there are others that are more obvious.

The main reason? Is that some how, a religion that was founded in LOVE has turned into hate. The public face of Christianity is no longer, people feeding the poor and spreading love, it's red faced evangelists screaming that we are all damned to hell, fighting against help for the poor, and promoting hate.

I realize that this is not all Christians and to those of you who are offended by this, I am sorry. I know that there are people who are faithful and rational, but that said I can not get past those who are not. One of the many reasons I can not find my place in religion, is that I refuse to condemn another person. It's not my job. In what I believe Christianity should be, God is the only one fit to judge our sins. And while he is judging those sins, one does not outweigh the others. Gay, does not trump hate, abortion does not trump hate, voting for a democrat does not send you a one way ticket to hell.

That brings us to Constance. The parents who threw this private prom believe they are protecting their teens from this gay student. I feel sick. Protect, my ass. Teaching hate, is NOT protection.

Why does this get me so riled up? Because not very long ago, my relationship would have received the same reaction, hell it probably still would in Mississippi. There are still people who believe that interracial relationships are an abomination against God. Gah.

As Jill so gracefully pointed out, it is up to us to teach our children to love and accept. I am not a fan of the phrase "I never", but I can promise myself and you all, I WILL NEVER, EVER allow this hateful crap to seep into my home. I will do my best to raise, open minded, accepting, loving men.

I feel so blessed to live in a diverse area. No one has ever really said squat about my marriage, I still struggle finding acceptance for my son's disabilities, but that will take time.

I think the best way to prove these jackasses people wrong, is to live our lives with grace and dignity. To love each other, to accept others (even if we don't agree with their actions), and to remain positive. I am not saying you have to believe homosexuality is right, that abortion is OK, or agree with differing opinions. I am just saying we need to stop, just STOP, spreading hate.

World Autism Awareness Day

Some how I didn't know this day existed until facebook told me earlier in the week. I have been stewing pondering all day about what I would write.
I have always been raw, honest and blunt about our life with Autism. For the last year, most of those posts have been joyful. We are winning right now. I don't fool myself into thinking it will always be that way, but I know we will keep fighting.

I wasn't blogging when we were in the dark, terrifying years before he was diagnosed and even a few following, I have no idea if that was for the best or not. I know I could have used the support, oh God could have I. It wasn't the fact that he was diagnosed with Autism, the label really didn't phase me. I was DESPERATE for help, for answers.

I have written before about Noah's early years...He was the sweetest baby. He almost never cried, he smiled, he made eye contact, he played games, he was always a bit delayed to meet milestones, but never enough to cause concern for his pediatrician.
Until he was three. Then I started to notice his one year old brother pass him on many things. He became more sensitive, less vocal, and had increasingly odd behaviors. I pushed his doctors to look a little closer, but my concerns were brushed aside. By four, I KNEW he had Autism and the doctor reluctantly agreed he MIGHT have PDD-NOS, but took a wait and see approach. We didn't have a full diagnosis or get help until he was six.

Those years in between were scary. Every window in our house was broken. I had stitches from him hurling hot wheels at my head. He would pour entire gallons of milk on the carpet, despite the fact our fridge was LOCKED. The house we were renting was destroyed.

All of that seems to be a haze now. When he leaps into the van at the end of the day, filled with giggles and stories of his day, all the struggles seem so far away. I posted last week about Noah's report card, the pride has yet to wane.

When you have a special needs child, there are more struggles, but the victories are all the more sweet. Noah is perfect the way he is.