Frustration

I don't know any other ways to try.

• Sticker chart.
• Put her in panties.
• Leave her bare butt.
• Try to explain that she already goes tee-tee in the potty. Why not poop?
• Leave her on the potty for over 30 minutes.
• Go to the potty every 20 minutes.

People, I have NOTHING ELSE. She goes to the potty. She just flat out refuses to poop in the potty. If you leave her bare butt then she waits and holds it until nighttime when we put a pull-up on her for the night. If you try to talk to her about it then you either get a completely blank stare or she gets angry because you're taking her away from something that she wants to do.

I'm frustrated. I'm angry. I'm so freaking tired of autism. I hate it. I love my daughter fiercely. She is brilliant and there is so much locked away from me.

Focus on the Good

Philippians 4:8 tells us to focus on that which is good and pure and right.

I will focus on getting to hold my small boy. His hair is getting shaggy and he loves it when I scratch his head. Right now, he needs his Mama to help him get to sleep. There is nothing wrong with that. It makes me slow down and hold my son. It gives us quiet time to breathe together. I can put my hand on his back and feel him breathing that sleep-rhythm. I can say one last prayer over my baby before I put him down in his own bed.

I will know this. I will love this time I have with him.

Listen to Me

I'm pregnant with my fourth kid. You would think that by this point, I'm used to the Mom Things. This one was new and a little unsettling.

So, we're at a playground and the precious little minions are running around like goobers. The big one is going down the big slide and that's a BIG DEAL, MAMA. It's the BIG SLIDE. So I let her go nuts as long as she doesn't knock anyone out of the way and gets out of the way of the bottom as soon as she goes down. The Boy has decided that Papa's iPhone is much more interested than any of this play equipment that is surely disease-ridden and used for torture purposes. The baby is waddling around the 3-and-Under play area trying to put everything in her mouth. Luckily, everything is attached to the floor. Unluckily, that just means that I have the kid that keeps licking the McDonalds Toddler Play Area carpet.

Note to self: Get tetanus shot for the baby.

Suddenly, three big kids (8? 9?) come barreling into the toddler area. They race up the teensy little slide and surf down. Toddlers scatter like chickens. Without a thought, I look up and BELLOW at these boys.

"Nuh-uh! No big kids in the baby area! OUT! NOW!"

Those kids jumped a mile and ran like their butts were on fire.

Evidently, I now have the Mom Voice. AND IT WORKS.

Not a Morning Person

Me: "Do you want yogurt?"

Sophie: *dying buffalo grunts and fling body on the floor*

Me: "Sophie, you just say 'No, thank you!' if you don't want something."

Sophie: "N'TANKOO!"

Me: "OK. How about toast?"

Sophie: *flop and whine*

Me: *warning* "Sophie..."

Sophie: "N'TANKOO!"

Me: "OK. Would you like toys or a book?"

Sophie: *with defiant flop* "N'TANKOO!"

Me: "Would you just like to be a little fart for a while?"

Sophie: "N'TANKOO!"

Me: "Too late."

Specifically

Sophie: "May I cheese?"

Me: "Cheese? Sure!"

*go to the kitchen*

Sophie: "Issa yeh-no cheese!"

Me: "OK."

Sophie: "Issa yeh-no stick cheese!"

Me: "Got it."

Sophie: "Issa yah-no stick cheese for Sophie!"

Me: "WORKING ON IT!"

*deliver yellow stick cheese*

Sophie: "May I drink?"

Me: "Oy."

Hold Them Tight

Ben brought Milly home from Mother's Day Out this afternoon. It was raining so he carried her under the umbrella. She grinned when she saw me at the door and I smiled back. She threw off her backpack and began looking for a toy. Her daddy made her some chocolate milk and I gave her a cherry cookie from the batch we picked up at the Collin Street Bakery. I picked her up and we sat on the couch while she played with the iPad. Her little belly was full of milk and cookie, her thumb was in her mouth and her beloved taggie blanket was in her lap. She grinned and giggled as we read the Grover and Elmo book.

At 3:30, the bus honked outside to let us know that Sophie and Gideon were home. I stashed the iPad so they wouldn't fight over it. They ran in and tossed their backpacks to me. Sophie took off her shoes and socks like she does every day after school within 2 minutes of walking in the door. Gideon still had his hoodie on with the hood up. He likes the safe and cocooned feeling. I hugged them tight and passed out drinks. We watched Mickey Mouse Playhouse and laughed.

There are parents in Connecticut that will never hug their children again. They will never hear giggles and belly laughs. Christmas will forever have a new meaning for them.

Psalm 91:4 says "He will spread his wings over you and keep you secure..."

Matthew 23:37 says "...I have often wanted to gather your people, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings. But you wouldn’t let me."

God wants so badly to keep us safe under His wings. However, He knows that we were given the free will to leave the safety of those wings. I believe that God wants us to exercise that free will. He wants us to venture from the nest to learn and grow. We take with us the lessons He has taught us and do our best to live by them. When we are hurt, tired or under attack then we are always welcomed back under His wings.

This is what I believe.
This is what I will remember.
This is what I will tell my children.
This is what I will imitate for my children while here on Earth.
This is where I will run.

Breakdown

During my usual non-pregnant time, I'm on a careful cocktail of antidepressants, anti-anxiety and other meds. I'm barely allowed to take half of my antidepressant while I'm playing host body. This makes it hard to cope with life in general.

I have a bad anxiety disorder that manifests itself with agoraphobia. This is hard to admit because it just seems...silly. Why am I afraid to go outside? I've never been the victim of a crime like mugging or carjacking. We don't have open war, soldiers in the street and bombs going off. I've never walked outside to a hail of spiders. The grocery store is pretty tame.

I don't like feeling this way. It feels like I wear an iron cape everywhere. My thoughts and responsibilities wrap around me and weigh me down. I feel worthless and unable to function. I become convinced that people would be better off without me, especially my family.

On Tuesday night, I broke. I cried for an hour after reluctantly agreeing to let Ben comfort me. My thoughts were screaming 'Burden! Don't be a burden to him!'. Then I relaxed and let my husband just be my husband. He's kind, loving and wants nothing more than to hold me. I am blessed to have a partner like that. After I talked and cried, I felt light. I felt loved. I felt safe.

I believe, without a doubt, that God loves me. I believe that He paired me with Ben so that I would have a tangible example of that love. I'm grateful for a husband that follows God's word and loves his wife the way God wants.