Possibilities

I sat on the couch in the mostly dark living room. Blue and green LEDs blinked, indicating our connection to the outside world.

Praying for sleep, I leaned into the couch cushions and closed my eyes, my foot still moving. Up and down, up and down, as I rocked a newborn Moe in his bouncy seat.

I tried to appreciate those moments, but I admit, in the exhaustion, I didn't always embrace the joys of motherhood.

Still, I remember his face. Chubby cheeks and milky smile on a perfectly bald head. His curls would take two years to appear.

On the last day of May, Moe turned six.  I haven't written a blog post since then. I've started many, adding to my ever growing drafts file. I've been busy, yes, but the truth is I can't seem to collect my thoughts enough to know what to say.

Six.

On that awful night a few weeks ago, when Moe screamed and screamed for hours on end, there was a brief moment of calm. Moe was in his room and Jeff was in bed. I went to the living room and sat on the couch. The same couch where I spent hours bouncing Moe. Studying his face. Learning what it meant to be a mother.

Dreaming about his future.

The memory of that time came rushing at me with such force, it was if I had simply dozed off for a moment, these last six years a strange dream that I'd forget once the day began.

For a moment I wished it were so. I allowed myself the indulgence of going back to a time when Moe wasn't struggling. When all the milestones were ahead of him. When I could dream of my future architect or doctor, imagine my feigned horror when he told me he wanted to go to Stanford instead of Cal. When I could wonder what his first words would be. When anything was possible.

The moment passed, and it is just as well. Such indulgences serve no purpose, add no measure of happiness to our lives. Maybe even the opposite.

Moe is six years old. He woke on his birthday with a smile and I gave him cake for breakfast.

He ate the whipped cream off the top and I told him anything was possible.

How to Make Fairy Cupcakes, Part 1

I have a few talents. I can write. I am a decent cook and baker. I have a pretty good eye for interior design. I am not, however, crafty.

Every so often, however, I decide to try to create something. Usually I am able to overcome this urge by buying something on Etsy or distracting myself by taking care of one or even both of my children. But sometimes, against my better judgement, I make an effort. Today was one of those days.

Maybe it is because I've been feeling guilty having to miss the birthday celebration at Jelly's school. Or maybe because this particular project seemed so damn easy I couldn't possibly screw it up. Regardless of whatever misguided reason I had, I went for it.

So now I give you Part 1 of how to make fairy cupcakes:

Cupcake Toppers

Do make sure you know your daughter's preferences: chocolate cupcakes, green frosting, Tinkerbell toppers.

Do create Pinterest board for Tinkerbell cupcake ideas. 

Do not take daughter to party store where she can change her mind seventeen times. Do buy perfect stickers for cupcake toppers. Do talk daughter down to one package of additional fairy puffy stickers and Tinkerbell napkins that you weren't going to buy because the bounce house place provides everything but if it will make her happy for God's sake I just want to get out of here.

Do plan out schedule: Tuesday: start toppers. Wednesday: finish toppers. Thursday: make one batch of cupcakes. Friday: make second batch of cupcakes. Friday night: have friend come over for drinks and frost cupcakes.

Do feel good about yourself when you manage to put on stickers and cut squares out of paper. You are a crafting rock star!

Do not forget to take pictures along the way, so take a hastily assembled one after the fact. 

Do not forget schedule the next day and decide to watch TV instead.

Do use son's time with ABA therapist to finish toppers, putting self back on schedule.

Do assemble craft supplies: previously created stickers on paper, toothpicks, tape and glue.

Do use tape to attach toothpick to back of card, making sure fairies head will be pointed UP. Be proud of self for thinking of this in advance.

Do immediately text friend to get opinion on whether each topper should have the same fairy on both sides of the topper or two different fairies. Obsess over whether it will be better for four year olds to have two fairy options per cupcake or if they should just stick to one, limiting the number of opportunities for each kid to have any given fairy. Friend says one fairy per cupcake. Go with that.

Do quickly count and make sure you have an even number of fairies. 

Do use Elmer's white glue to attach the two matching fairies back to back, again ensuring heads remain facing up. Do remember how it is impossible to do anything with Elmer's white glue without getting it everywhere.

Do not get sidetracked covering fingers in glue and then peeling it off.

Do line up completed toppers side by side, so they won't stick to each other. Do take photo. Do not explain that they are on top of a plastic bin containing the Little People farm because that is the only flat surface in the house that does not have a pile of junk on it. 

Do edit photo to be facing correct direction.

Do not run out of glue.

Do not use a glue stick, as you will find that it is not sticky enough.

Do not find another unused bottle of glue, attempt to use, and find out that the glue has somehow separated like an old bottle of ketchup, leaking a clear watery substance before white gluey part comes out. This glue will also not stick.

Do take to the internet to complain about glue battles. Friend will suggest tape.

Do remember you have double stick tape. Do not take out tape to realize that dispenser has broken. Do get scissors so you can cut pieces of tape.

Do wish that you had just done this from the start.

Do not run out of regular tape before finishing toppers. Do count how many you've done and realize that if the adults don't have toppers you've made enough. Do realize that the pink Tinkerbell, which is probably the one daughter will want, hasn't been made. Do find another roll of tape in daughter's craft box. Do sigh in relief.

Do not let double sided tape attach onto itself and be completely unable to find starting point. Do use extreme caution when using scissors to cut into double stick tape roll to make a new starting point.

Do take pictures of final product and declare success!

UP NEXT: Making the cupcakes!

Overwhelmed

I turned 40 earlier this month. To celebrate, I spent last weekend in San Francisco with friends. I knew we would have fun. I knew we would eat and drink and relax. But what I didn't know was how overwhelmed I would feel.

I am often overwhelmed--with, with stress, anxiety, with too much to do and too many decisions. But this wasn't like that.

I was overwhelmed with gratitude for a husband who gave me a weekend off, just because he wants me to be happy.

Overwhelmed with love from friends - ten! - who spent all or some of the weekend with me.

Overwhelmed with generosity of friends who not only spent their time and money on a vacation, but on beautiful flowers and gifts.

Overwhelmed with delicious food and beautiful weather.

And then, when the weekend was coming to an end, overwhelmed with bittersweet sadness at saying goodbye to two friends who moved far away. The time with them meant everything and life is such that it is hard to visit. But I will try.

So...to New Beth, Beth Classic and Beth 2.0, to Karyn, Cynthia, Lyn, Danielle, Jill, Phoebe and Francesca, thank you. Thank you for the weekend, and for so much more.

Jelly's Party

I wanted to throw Jelly a really nice birthday party. I thought she would appreciate having all her friends from preschool and music class together in one place. Maybe go to one of those bounce house places, or do it in the back yard. But in the end, I couldn't get it together. It was just too much to think about.

So I invited just our best friends, the closest thing to family we have in the area. We had pizza and cake. It was a hot day, so we ate and played outside.

The kids entertained themselves with the hose.

Moe entertained himself with cake (and trying to steal everyone else's cake). Though he did get in on the hose action for a bit, and played with the water table - a favorite since we got it for him on his first birthday.

Jelly insisted on a Milli (Team Umizoomi) cake. This is not something you can buy at the grocery store, so I made the cake and ordered a special edible icing topper. Nothing went smoothly with this cake. The chocolate didn't melt fully so it was more like a chocolate chip cake. The icing topper was too big and kind of flopped over the top of the cake.

As it turns out, three year olds (and seven year olds and not-quite-forty year olds) are pretty forgiving about such things.

Jelly spent a lot of the day playing with her new Fisher Price digital camera.

And rocking her new dress up clothes.

Happy birthday baby girl. I hope you had a great day.

Three Years Old

Jelly turned three yesterday. I don't write much about her here, but I should. She is amazing

Jelly was six weeks old when we got Moe's diagnosis. I marvel at the timing. If Moe had been diagnosed before I was pregnant, I don't think we would have had another child. Not just because we might have been afraid to have another child with autism, but because I would have felt that he needed all of me. And he does. He needs all of me.

But I need Jelly. I need her dress-up clothes and pretend play and her early morning stories floating down the hall to wake me. I need her giggles and sass, her funny phrases and "will you play with me?"

I need her amazing command of language, and love of preschool, and though I could do without her refusal to use the potty, I need the way she says "underpants."

I am amazed every day by this little girl who can write - and type - her name, who knows the zip code to our house (and to Umi City), and who is as stubborn as me. I need the way she chases Moe down the hall, and watches TV with intensity and for some reason knows all the words to Madonna's "Hung Up."

Tomorrow, I will write about how we celebrated her birthday. For today, I give you this:

Happy Birthday Moe!

Today is Moe's fourth birthday. I'm amazed at how quickly the time has passed this year. One year ago, Moe looked like this:

He hadn't started school yet. We were just finishing up one of the longest, toughest years. It was the year of diagnosis. The year of in-home ABA. It was Jelly's first year of life.

And now, Moe looks like this:

He's still a peanut, but he's growing and changing. Although I don't know how much of the concept of a birthday he understands, Moe was genuinely excited at all of the special attention he received today. When I woke him with "Happy Birthday!" this morning, he greeted me with huge smiles and giggles. He was excited opening presents for the first time ever. And he clapped with joy when the class sang Happy Birthday to him.

But some things never change. Moe ate his cupcake with abandon. And then he stole his neighbor's cupcake. And then he ate half of mine. And then he had cake after dinner. The boy has always loved cake.

Is it just me or does he look a little sick here?

 Moe had a great day. And it fills me with joy to know that he felt extra special today, even if he doesn't completely understand why.

But now, as I listen to him playing in his crib, giggling and squealing, I'm starting to regret allowing him quite so much sugar.

B Is Also For Birthday

Yesterday, I wrote my first Alphabe-Thursday post using the letter B. Today, I'm writing about another B-word: birthday. Today, my baby, little Jelly Belly herself, turns two.

Two.

Jelly entered my life at a difficult time, just before Moe's diagnosis. I worried I wouldn't love her like I love Moe. I worried she would get lost behind Moe's needs, his schedule, and my all-consuming worry for him.

I shouldn't have worried. From her first night in the hospital when she refused to sleep unless resting on my chest, she made herself known.

I recently heard a story that astounded me. Moe's speech therapist, JR, was at our local My Gym, where I also take Jelly. We go at a different day and time so I had no idea that JR went there. She was talking with the guy who runs the place about sign language with kids. He mentioned that he knows a little girl who uses more than 60 signs. JR realized that he must be talking about Moe's little sister. My little Jelly is already making a name for herself in the world.

Tonight (I'm writing this Thursday night) I will be putting together her dollhouse. I know most of my readers are parents of autistic kids, and so I know you understand the significance of giving a dollhouse to my little girl, who loves to pretend and feed her dolls and give them kisses and change their diapers.

Happy birthday, my sweet little girl. Don't grow up too fast.

Birthday Results

Yesterday, I wrote a list of things I refused to do on my birthday, but probably would anyway. Here's how I fared:

1. Fold laundry: FAIL. There was a huge pile in the living room and I couldn't help myself.
2. Empty the dishwasher: FAIL. The dishes were piling up and I just couldn't stand it.
3. Take out the trash, recycling, diaper pails, etc.: SUCCESS! Although I am paying the price today and have already had to empty both diaper pails, recycling and the kitchen trash.
4. Worry about calories: MODERATE SUCCESS. I worried about them, but ate the cupcake anyway. This is pretty much the way I am everyday, so I can't say this had much to do with my birthday.
5. Cook dinner: SUCCESS! I did not cook dinner for anyone. The kids had microwave popcorn for dinner and we brought in sushi. One of those is not true.
6. Tell anyone who might sing to me that it is my birthday: FAIL. I mentioned it in Jelly's music class. There was a kid talking about how it was Dr. Seuss's birthday, and I told him it was mine also. So of course the class, led by the music teacher who I've known for a couple of years now, sang Happy Birthday at the the end.
7. Listen to kid music in the car: SUCCESS! But as I mentioned we did have Jelly's music class, so I didn't escape entirely.
8. Feel and/or complain about being old: MODERATE SUCCESS. I did not complain about being old, and I was doing okay until an email came through the moms group mailing list that said "I'm turning 30 and want to treat myself to a really nice face cream. Any recommendations?" Yeah, here's a recommendation: stop telling people you're turning 30.

Overall, it was a good birthday. I got phone calls from special people and my Facebook wall was flooded with birthday wishes. Thank you all for supporting me and each other over this last year, which was not the easiest for me. But I'm going to rock this year, starting with something really exciting tomorrow. Stay tuned...

Things I Refuse To Do On My Birthday (But Probably Will Anyway)

1. Fold laundry
2. Empty the dishwasher
3. Take out the trash, recycling, diaper pails, etc.
4. Worry about calories
5. Cook dinner
6. Tell anyone who might sing to me that it is my birthday
7. Listen to kid music in the car
8. Feel and/or complain about being old

I also don't remember authorizing rain on my birthday. Any idea who I can speak with about that?

A Christmas...Pretty Much Like Last Year

As I thought about our day yesterday, both Christmas and Jeff's birthday, and I prepared to write this post, I took a look at last year's post, Happy Merry Chrismukkah Day. What I discovered is that this year's December 25 looked an awful lot like last year's. This was not because of any great family traditions we're trying to build or because it was such an amazing day we wanted to do it the same way all over again.

Moe has not progressed as much as I had hoped he would in the year, and is in many ways the same kid, still not communicating much, still chewing, still sensory seeking with extreme highs and lows. Jelly has, of course, changed tremendously, as babies are wont to do when they go from 8 months to 20 months old. But despite that she is now walking and talking, she is still basically a baby and not quite on to the whole Christmas thing.

Our day is born out of necessity. We've spent the last two years quietly at home, where Moe is comfortable, and where Jeff and I wouldn't have the stress of constantly following him around, not able to enjoy wherever we were anyway. And besides, it's Jeff's birthday and clearly anywhere we went, everyone else would be celebrating someone else's birthday. This way we can make the day all about Jeff.

I started the day with chocolate croissants. You just take Pillbury crescent rolls, put a handful of chocolate chips in them, and roll them back up before baking them. I had been looking for an excuse to make these, and this seemed like the perfect day to try. They hardly compared with my favorite pains au chocolat from Fleur de Cocoa, but I still got to have chocolate for breakfast so I'm not complaining.

Last year I made a key lime cake. This year, I made a key lime pie.

            

The pie? Much easier. But I liked the cake better.

Last year, we got to play outside. This year, it was raining, which was tough for the kids. But Moe did get to play with some whipped cream. He’d clap his hands and it would splatter everywhere, which was the funniest thing ever.

 
Jelly kept saying “bye bye!” She’d just grab her purse, and put the baby in the stroller as if she had someplace very important to be. With her, who knows? Maybe she did.


Around this time I realized I didn't have the chicken broth I needed to make Jeff's special birthday dinner. So I got in the car. Five stores later, I found some.

The kids eventually went to bed, and I got to open this:


Jeff is still recovering from his cold and didn’t feel like having wine, but I was forced to open it to make the risotto, and then it was already open, so it would be silly not to have a glass (or two), right? It was delicious and went perfectly with the mushroom risotto, which is also what I made last year. Jeff gets to pick what he wants for dinner on his birthday, and I make damn good risotto. The secret is lots of butter and parmesan cheese.

I hope next year, we’ll see some more improvement with Moe, and I'm sure I'll be writing more about this as 2011 approaches. I’d like to be able to be a little more social around the holidays, and feel able to attend some of the open houses and get-togethers we have to decline. But holidays are at their core about family, and I got to spend my day with him…

and her…

and this guy…

So it was a pretty good day.

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl

Your first year has been so different from your brother's. You see, life has been unfair to you this year. Like your brother, your life is also touched by autism. Not in the same way as Moe, at least we don't think so. But when someone in the family has autism, we all feel its effects.

During Moe's first year, I took him to Gymboree. You played at home during his Occupational Therapy sessions.

I took Moe to playdates in the park with other babies. You played at home with behavioral therapists.

Moe and I went to Mommy & Me lunches and took long walks to go shopping, while you stayed home and observed speech therapy.

I suppose in many ways, this is the fate of a second child, tagging along to your big brother's activities. But so much of this year has been anything but usual, anything but what I wanted or expected this year to be.

But here's the thing about you, Jelly Belly: you're doing just great. You are such a happy little girl. You love hanging out with your mommy and your brother, who you think is the coolest thing since Cheerios. You have a smile (with four teeth!) for everyone you see, though you still cling to me around new people. I'm amazed at the things you can do already, like showing me everything you pick up, feeding your baby doll, and imitating every sound I make. You're already starting to talk and use sign language, things you've probably learned from hanging around Moe and all these people coming to play with him six hours a day.

So I hope you had a great first year, Jelly. It was a rough one for me, but it would have been so much darker without you.