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I know what you are thinking.
You are thinking, "Where is Rosie's partner in crime? How can there be a ginormous mess without Maggie?"
Duh, she was in the pantry getting the vanilla protein shake powder.
I intercepted the shake and she started to wail, "But-Rosie-Has-One."
***Don't all toddlers chew on their mom's ipod ear buds??****
I took this picture a few days ago.
"Swim in the pool?"
Aidan keeps asking to swim in the pool but the other day he was content to just sit by the pool.
Now the pool is covered in snow and summer seems a long way off.
My snow allergy makes it difficult to enjoy the snow.
So, yesterday I brought snow inside and gave Maggie a melon baller to make snowballs.
Molly and Rory were less impressed with the snowball idea so they made snow cones.
Maggie and Rosie pulled out the art supplies while I was breaking up a fist fight reading a story with Molly and Rory. The girls painted their hands, feet and walls but avoided getting any paint on the paper.
I asked Rory what he was doing and he said, "snooking down the dvds".
Who knew dentists had such manly biceps??
Michele and Patrick- this made me smile. Thank you so much for the laugh.
Jim- you are the Jack Bauer of pediatric dentistry!
Chris- if you need a work out partner, you know who to call!
Today, I did not want to get out of bed which isn't unusual for my least favorite day of the year. Under the covers, I was warm but the bedroom was freezing. But even after I got moving, the house was still so cold and the thermostat was registering 55 degrees.
After a little investigating, I discovered that Aidan had turned off the furnace and broke off the sensor/alarm antennae. I'm assuming it happened yesterday afternoon or early in the evening when the storage room was left unlocked.
Life with autism is messy, unpredictable and noisy. There are beads stuck in noses, poop on expensive and unwashable wallpaper and drawings everywhere.
And I can roll with it and smile and pretend he isn't screaming while the doctor looks in his ear. And I'll forget that I've been singing the same Elmo songs to calm him down for the past decade. And I'll make the hard decisions that I might later regret. And I'll love who he is and not think about who he is supposed to be.
Except on February 9th.
Today is the one and only day where I allow the pain to wash over me. I let myself remember exactly what it felt like to hear the diagnosis of autism for my firstborn son. I go back to the cursed waiting room and hear the words over and over again. From the core of my being I wanted the doctor to be wrong but I knew before she even said a word that I would never see Aidan as my perfect little boy again.
And out of all the memories, the one that hurts the most, is my whispering good-bye to my son without a diagnosis and realizing that life doesn't follow my plan.
Rory is sometimes kind to Aidan.
Usually, when Aidan is eating a snack, playing on the computer or watching tv and he wants in on the fun.
But the other night, an unprompted gesture of brotherly love brought me to tears and running for my camera.
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