Mom Survivor: Day 7 and 8 (Did you think I didn't make it?)

Well I sure left you hanging there huh? Sorry about that. I think the last two days of Patrick being gone were so stressful that I didn't want to recount it LOL! But let me at least finish what I started.

We basically hit survival mode on Friday. I managed to get everyone out of the house in one piece and get myself to work. Although when I got there, I just wanted to turn right around and go home. Work sucked....just a CRAP day all around for so many reasons! The one good point is that I managed to get my proposal in on time, I'm still not entirely sure how I pulled that off. Everyone at work seemed to be struggling with something, and my emotional bank was overdrawn so I was no help in lifting anyone's spirits!

To top it off, the weather was miserable on the way home, but the kids thoroughly enjoyed being drenched!

Kellen enjoying the weather at E's house!

I was thankful to get home with my rugrats, and I was looking forward to my parents coming in late Friday night.  

Patrick meanwhile was roaming the streets of Paris on his trek home! He didn't get to see a whole lot since it was dark, but he went to the mandatory places and then they were back in their hotel (right next to the airport). I said goodnight to him and then waited for my parents. What a relief to have reinforcements. Of course the kids were already in bed, but just having back-ups was enough reassurance.

I COULD NOT sleep that night. I knew that Patrick's flight was set to take off at 10am Paris time, so I never slept. I had gotten a text that they were headed to the airport, but I needed to see that little plane on the flight tracker LEAVE France and start heading to Texas : ) I waited a bit and thought he must be at his gate ready to go, so I called him. I also knew that Houston weather was predicted to be TERRIBLE that day, so I wasn't at all surprised when he said...

"Honey, we're getting in at 6pm instead of 2pm."

I of course thought it was the weather already causing problems, but then he said "We missed our flight."

"WHAT????????????????????????????????????????????????????"

Apparently they were dropped off at the wrong terminal, the train took too long, and then they missed the 1hr international flight cutoff by minutes. This has only reaffirmed my general dislike of France.

There's only one direct flight to Houston a day, but apparently the United people were helpful and got them on a flight to Chicago with a connection to Houston...thus the change from 2pm to 6pm arrival. Let me just say that there was much stress and much nagging about not missing the connection, etc. I just wanted him home more than I could possibly express, and a weather delay I could have handled much better than something as stupid as being dropped off at the wrong terminal. I blame the shuttle driver, but still, neurotic as I am, had I been there, I would have known it was the wrong terminal (right ladies?).

So finally they're on the plane and it's taking off (only about an hour after the original flight was to depart), so I'm still up (it's like 4am at this point I believe) waiting for the little plane to start moving across the ocean on my flight tracker on my Iphone...and waiting....and waiting...and waiting....

Notice this says 10am Eastern...9am central...I still haven't slept...because I'm waiting on this plane to MOVE!!!!!!!!!! The rain in Houston started about the time I started panicking that the plane wasn't moving (around 5am). Larkin came in my bedroom shortly after that...neither of us slept. We got up, had breakfast, ran errands...plane still not moving.

So it's at this point that you start wondering. If the plane is lost, what does the little flight tracker do? If it crashes, it's not like they put little flames on the plane so you know, right? Do they not realize that I've noticed that the plane is STILL sitting in the hellhole that is the Paris airport? My fears range from a ground delay in Paris to the irrational fear that the plane has gone down...

I was in the checkout line at Hobby Lobby when it finally moved (and was somewhere over Canada). I thought about sitting down right there and going to sleep. It was still pouring in Houston though...so even though they were going to make it in to Chicago, there were no guarantees that they'd get off the ground again headed to Houston.

I trudged through my day which included 7 miles on a treadmill (see Houston weather radar above!). I was so happy to hear when Patrick landed in Chicago. I'd been tracking his second plane and knew it was on time, but I wouldn't believe it until it took off. And it did...

And it flew through some terrible weather...which made me 91% worried and 9% that turbulence is what you get for missing your flight!

I got myself all dressed up to stand in the humid Houston weather and wait for him at baggage claim. I also confess that I parked in the garage...and then got so frazzled that I couldn't find my way to baggage claim...so then I went back to my car before I lost the car, paid $2 for stupidity, and then got in the car line outside baggage claim like everyone else! I swear it was PTSD. The last time I parked my car in that garage, I was also lost, but that was the time that I landed here in Houston only for Patrick to tell me that Larkin had broken her leg...so I wandered the parking garage crying and panicking until some sweet lady helped me figure out where I was. Anyway, so I should have known better than try that garage again!

But after all of that...there he was. Safe and sound. Me and the kids in one (happy, healthy) piece.

I survived...and turns out it wasn't so bad after all. ; )

Mom Survivor: Day 6

If yesterday was the point where exhaustion set in, today was the point where depression set in. I woke up sad. Kids were terrific, and I of course put on my happy face and sent them all on their way. Made a run through Starbucks thinking I was just tired. Traffic sucked, and then I remembered that when I uploaded everything onto my new iPhone, that I uploaded ALL of my music, too (not just specific playlists). So I plugged it in and thought I'd sing my way happily to work.

Instead I sang myself into missing Patrick terribly LOL! Music has such power to take you back to a specific place, a specific time, a life event. I'm constantly mentally bookmarking lyrics that resonate with me (which I mention on this blog often). My iPhone seemed to have a hidden agenda this morning playing Chantal Kreviazuk, Fiona Apple, Anna Nalick, 10,000 Maniacs, and of course...Sarah McLachlan. It's her first CD that was probably my favorite album during the first days of me and Patrick. Having been together for over 16 years, we have a lot of "songs", but I daresay our first one was "Possession" on Sarah's first album. It started playing right as I was turning into my parking garage that morning, and I found myself waiting in the car until it ended. And as I gathered my things to begin a day of work, there it hit me...loneliness. I have been so engrossed in keeping everything, everyone running, making sure nothing slipped through the cracks, that I really hadn't had much time for myself. But there it was, I missed him, and I think I finally let myself miss him to the point where there was a heaviness on my heart the rest of the day.

I waded my way through the work day which was full of many little annoyances and frustration, and by the time I left, I really felt like I wanted to jump out of my skin! I was trying as hard as I could to keep my patience with the kids. I managed to pick them up, get them home, feed them, and then pack us all back up to go to soccer practice. I tried my best to keep Kellen happy in the car while we watched Larkin at practice. He was somewhat entertained when I let him come sit in the front seat, but he wanted to press every button on the console and get his hands on the steering wheel, and I saw him becoming more and more agitated. When Larkin decided she had to potty right before practice ended, I just had her hop in the car so we could take off...and then there it was.

The Epic Meltdown I knew was inevitable this week. I managed to get Larkin in the car and Kellen buckled in (fighting him to do it) and then he screamed at the top of his lungs and cried his little heart out all the way home. Larkin is back there making shushing noises, I'm in the front seat trying desperately not to burst into tears myself. I think we're all exhausted, we all miss Patrick, and we just need a little help...

...and I am ever so thankful that help was parked right in front of our house when we got home. Annie was there, we'd planned for her to come over so I could run and we could have a quick dinner. It was SO what we all needed. I was able to spend time getting Kellen calmed, bathed, and into bed while Larkin felt like she was getting a special treat (and lots of attention) by having Annie to entertain her : ) Kellen was asleep within minutes, I bathed Larkin quickly, and Annie read to her while I dashed to the gym to hit the treadmill.

As an aside, the best part of Annie being there was that as we were walking to the front door Annie said "Hey Kellen", and he turned around and looked up directly into her face...twice! This is becoming so "normal" for him that it gives me chills!

Needless to say, I had a lot of stress to run off, and I think I ran too fast because then my stupid Achilles/heel started hurting....ugh!
I came back feeling mostly better though, both kids were asleep. We made some pizza, and Annie assessed the photo quality of my new iPhone...

And as we were finishing up dinner, my phone rings! It's Patrick! At 4AM France time! He said he got woken up by drunk people out on the street singing when they were leaving the clubs, so he thought he'd try to catch me to say goodnight. After the crappy day I'd had, that was just what I needed! I managed to get a semi-decent night's sleep, and willed myself to pull it all together one more day!

Mom Survivor: Day 5

As we move into Day 5, I'd say the busy and stressful week starts to catch up with us.

I do have one injury report (so far) this week. Kellen went to bed with one of Larkin's plastic headbands the other night, and woke up with this lovely scratch on his face the next morning. Needless to say, I'm slathering on the Neosporin, but it's doing better (it looks worse than it is...that's what I keep telling myself).

Wednesday also marked one of my parent trainings at Kellen's school. I really enjoy these, and I'm always entertained by other people's impressions of our rambunctious sneaky little man. Earlier in the month, they mentioned they were continuing to modify their initial assessments (the data they collected the first 1-2 weeks) because he "didn't show them everything he could do". I was completely thrilled to hear them say yesterday that "He is SO smart, he completely played all of us the first few weeks." Basically they assessed him thinking there were things he "couldn't do" and come to find out (NO shock to me) they were actually things he was perfectly capable of and just "wouldn't do". I've always wondered where the line is between traits of autism and traits of flat out stubbornness. Anyway, it was good to hear that he continues to surprise us all and gives us so much hope for the future!

Because of the parent training, it was also my work at home day. I'm in the middle of a proposal that is driving me a little nuts (because I waited until the last minute of course), and as further confirmation of my lost mind, this is how I prepared my lunch...

Yes, that's one of the kids' paper plates. The best part is I had already made the sandwich on the plate when I thought "oooh, I should put some hummus in the ears! Wait...ears?"

I decided we were all starting to unravel a little so I stopped and picked up some ice cream for the kids before making the rounds to pick up the actual kids, I also found a little treat for myself...I guess my mind was on France.

Little Brie! Only 70 calories of creamy goodness!

Happy to pick up her brother

mmmm, ice cream...the key to successful utensil utilization

Even with the ice cream treat, everyone was just extra grouchy and seemed overly tired, this was really the first night that Kellen had been extra agitated, he's been overly happy the rest of the week. Although Larkin did manage to give me a good laugh on yet more "picture interpretation" when she was looking at my maternity portraits in our bedroom and said "Mama, that's the picture when I was in your belly and you tried to put on your clothes but they didn't fit!"

The highlight of my night came at the end of the day. Patrick was trying to catch the kids on Facetime one more time before he went to bed, but due the general grouchiness referenced above, they were already in bed. So we ended up Facetiming just us. Talked about completely random things, made inappropriate jokes, stayed on the phone way too long. It was nice to actually get to talk to each other without chasing around kids with the phone/iPad, etc. I was so happy to see him and talk to him, but I think that happiness is what led to my general dismal mood on Day 6.

Mom Survivor: Day 4

So things started to pick up a little on Tuesday. I know some of you are reading going "Great, you've got it under control, this is boring!" LOL! I think I'm chronicling this first time on our own so that 1) I can remind myself that I can do this when the next trip comes around and 2) so that Patrick knows that we really are ok and that I'm not just putting on a smile and pretending. I can see on the Blogger stats that my blog has been read in Spain and France, so he's watching ; )

Day 4 was complicated by the fact that Larkin had a dermatologist appt down near the Med Center. She has a rash that we've been fighting since about April/May, so it was time to get a specialist's opinion. The appt meant that we would drop off Kellen at E's house (the wonderful woman and autism mama that watches my sweet boy before and after school) and then Larkin would be my research assistant for the day again.

She actually did really well, entertained herself mostly, drew all over my white board again of course. Ran into many people I've known for many years to which we heard the usual "she looks just like you...but she's so tall". About mid-day we took off to the dermatologist.

Larkin found this awesome book in the waiting room about ladybugs. If you look at the picture in the bottom right corner, you'll see the one that Larkin said was "a mama ladybug carrying a baby ladybug on her back!"....it was more like "a ladybug on her way to becoming a mama ladybug...or maybe just a slutty ladybug, I don't know her personally".

The next page had a picture of a really gross spider starting to eat a ladybug...which Larkin also interpreted as the ladybug eating the spider...apparently that is one slutty badass ladybug.

Thankfully the appt went quickly. I LOVED this dr, so if you're in need of a recommendation, send me a message and I'll pass on her info. She's a pediatric dermatologist, and I specifically asked her if she felt equipped to handle autistic children and she said yes. Turns out Larkin has contact dermatitis...and get this...we think she's allergic to the toilet seat! The rash is on the back of her thighs, and the dr. said she's been seeing this with increasing frequency, usually due to either cleaning products or sealants they are using on the newer toilet seats. We're probably going to have some patch testing done in a few months to see what it is specifically we need to avoid...such a toxic world we live in though! Ugh!

Playing around in the doctor's office.

The afternoon went well, Larkin entertained us a decent amount, and I managed to get a nice amount of work done. We packed up for the day, and headed over to get a very happy Kellen. When we got home, I had to be honest with myself...I had everything under control...dishes done, laundry put away, even put the trash out...but...

...the stupid aquarium was undoubtedly CLOUDY!

Luckily, Patrick called to Facetime right about then and talked me through a water change (and where the dechlorinator was). I also found the fish that we "lost" last week...who knows what misfortune befell him, but I had to fish him out of the aerator...blech. We said nice things while we flushed him though.

Kids went to bed, I did more work, watched more Revenge and at some point fell asleep on the couch. The cats were in on it because they were all snuggled in with me when I woke up at almost 2am...needless to say, another not so great night's sleep. It definitely catches up to me (to all of us I think) on Day 5...

Mom Survivor: Day 3

Day 3 marked the start of the week...and my attempt to get us all up, dressed, and out of the house with everything we need...oh wait, that's really not a change from a normal Monday...except that I have one less to keep track of with Patrick not here ; )

What can I say, everything went smoothly! Kids were mostly agreeable, I managed to get Larkin to school with all of her dance class stuff, got Kellen to his spot with all of his stuff, and I only managed to forget my lunch...oh well, can't win em all!

The day was superbusy at work, and I was ridiculously exhausted. Thankfully I had been alerted to the death of our office Keurig machine ahead of time so I made a run through Starbucks on the way in (I know, life is hard...).

All day I was continuously greeted by things like "How are you doing on your own?" which was generally followed up by "You look tired"...
I couldn't be offended...I did look tired...because I was FREAKING tired from not sleeping well.
Turns out that Sunday night into Monday morning I had super realistic dreams, nothing too scary, just unusual. I was dreaming of the dogs...of Tristan and Skylar. It was so vivid that I could feel their fur in my hands when I woke up. There was many a time when cooking that you couldn't take 2 steps in the kitchen without running into a huge wall of Great Dane...I "felt" that in my dream...way too real, but not scary...just unnerving I guess is the best way to describe it. And to dream both of them? Well, it just stuck with me all day. I laughingly told Patrick that morning that I think the dogs had come back to keep an eye on me...

We got to talk to Patrick on Skype again, and the kids were hilarious. I swear that Kellen said "dada" at least twice while looking at Patrick! Either way he smiled at him, laughed at him, and both kids proceeded to bounce all over the bed like crazy people. Thankfully there were no injuries to report.

Anyway, even though I'd had a horrible night's sleep Sunday night, I decided that I desperately needed to catch up on work, so as soon as the kids were down, I sat myself down with my laptop for a good 3.5 hours and got an awful lot done. I thought I'd sufficiently tired myself out, so I rewarded my hard work by taking a cup of tea upstairs and watching an episode of Revenge on the iPad...which turned into 2 episodes and me not getting to sleep until past midnight...another bad night's sleep...ugh.

Day 4 will include Larkin's dermatologist appt...which also means she goes to work with me...good thing I got ahead the night of Day 3!

Mom Survivor: Day 2

Apparently the children smell unrest, so everyone was awake before 6:30am. We managed to talk to Patrick briefly as he made his way back the airport to catch his connecting flight to the south of France. The kids woke up happy, had a great breakfast, and came back upstairs to snuggle.

But I knew we still had to deal with the treacherous issue of venturing out for laundry detergent. Sure, I could have wussed out and called a friend or a sitter...but no...I was going to live dangerously. I weighed the options in front of me. HEB? No! Kellen loves the car carts...and when I say love, I mean I'd have to pry his little hands off the wheel and deal with a very enraged 3 year old. Wal-Mart? No...just because I don't like Wal-Mart. Target? Maybe...but he tries to worm his way out of those dual kid carts everytime...and then brilliance struck. Larkin is a "big girl" now, therefore, she does a good job of walking next to the cart rather than riding in it (due more to her size than her age...she comes up to my armpit...do I look like I fit in that cart?). So, my plan was to grab a regular cart, buckle Kellen in the cart, allow Larkin to walk alongside, dash to the laundry aisle for what we need, check out, and then if all went well, I'd reward us with Starbucks (juice for the kids)! I went prepared, I had an almond milk box and cereal in my purse at the ready for the meltdown battle cry...

...but the cry never came. They got in the car happily, drove to the store happily, shopped happily, waited at Starbucks happily...and went back home happily...huh?

My biggest stress that morning stemmed from me trying to make myself remember to disarm the alarm before going, then manage to get us all out the door on the delay to rearm, then get us all back in the door fast enough for me to get to the keypad to disarm again! This security system is exhausting for the peace of mind it's giving us LOL!

We had a fun day! Did our laundry, played tons, everyone ate well. Kellen throughout the day said the following words: ok, up, cheese (for smiling for a picture again), come on, good job, and also counted to 10...with Larkin and I filling in a number here and there and him instead of repeating the number, went on with the next number (I don't know why, but I think that's huge progress!). The kids also played together...a lot...as in Larkin running after him as a "monster" and Kellen doing the goofy giggle and waiting anxiously for her to scare him again. They shared the Ipad, they shared snacks, they did very well together.

We watched the Texans game together, and of all the weekends, Larkin started asking all kinds of questions...."What's a penalty? What's holding? Why is that man's ear bleeding?"  I did the best I could with simple explanations like "That's cheating. The Broncos aren't being very good sports. That man needs a timeout."

The highlight of our day was talking to Patrick. We did a little Skype and then resorted to Facetime when that stopped working. I am not kidding when I say that the new higher resolution Iphone screen is making FaceTime a more rewarding experience for Kellen. We talked to Mom earlier in the day, and he was all kinds of engaged. With Patrick, he gave him TONS of kisses, and even kept turning away being coy and then would turn back to see if he was still there...it was absolutely priceless.

I was so grateful that Patrick got to see us all happy and goofy...because we weren't putting on a show...we really are doing well. I don't know if that will last all week, but so far so good. No complaints here.

As for me, I seem to have gotten sucked into the first season of Revenge...it's available on Netflix in the instant queue. Holy crap, what a guilty pleasure! I wonder if I could finish the whole first season before the season 2 premiere...LOL! I find it highly entertaining!

I leave you with the end of our day. I tried to take a pic of me and Kellen together and just as I snapped, he turned and decided a kiss was better...not to be outdone, Larkin wanted her own kissy face picture...I guess she's practicing for self Facebook portraits as a teenager ; )

Day 3 will continue tomorrow with my attempt to get us all out of the house successfully...with all of our crap...and without forgetting anything...or anyone...or setting off the alarm...or forgetting to set it at all...

Mom Survivor: Day 1

I'm being completely melodramatic, and I know very well that there are millions of people that lead far more stressful, difficult lives and manage to do that very well with way less than we have. We know families struggling with cancer, with loss, with serious financial difficulties, with marital problems, with fertility problems. Let's be truthful...our lives are "easy", and we are grateful for our challenges and our opportunities to work through them together. With that disclaimer out of the way, this week is quite a change of pace for our family.

I've mentioned before that Patrick made a career change over the summer. He's very happy with the change, and we're happy to have him happy...I had only one reservation about this change...the travel. Again, I know there are families that handle SO much more (military families are truly an especially tough breed), but our little family thrives on being together as much as possible. Add in the fact that we both have demanding jobs, plus the kids' busy schedules, plus the obvious autism difficulties...well it takes both of us to make it work well and even then things fall through the cracks.

So this week marks Patrick's first overseas trip...for an entire week...as in a full 7 days. A week where I have too many meetings and deadlines, where Larkin has a dermatologist appt, where I have parent training at Kellen's school, where I'm in my 3rd week of marathon training, and where I just got back from a trip myself the day before.

Patrick's pretty calm about things, I'm the neurotic one (shocker!), but he did seem to be very intent on getting 2 things in line before he left 1) my new IPhone and 2) a home security system. Both of those eventually were successful but not without some stress on the way lol!

Day 1 was a bit of a whirlwind. Larkin had an early soccer game so we left the boys at home so Patrick could pack. I was supposed to run 9 miles that day, too, but I didn't get out the door until almost 10am...it was brutal, so freaking hot and humid! We debated dropping him off at the airport as a family, but he knew all 3 of us would probably end up crying so he spared us that drama and called a cab. At least that way the kids were happy and I was the only one who cried.

I wandered the house aimlessly after he left, then proceeded to make Snickerdoodle chex mix, which makes a mess...and then I remembered my "dishwasher" was on his way across the ocean...crap! The kids were great all evening, although they seemed to be craving extra attention. I realized later in the afternoon we were out of laundry detergent! This is a HUGE problem because 1) I thought I'd stocked us up on all we needed the day before 2) Sunday is the kids' laundry day and they seemed to have worn everything in their closets this week and 3) I'll direct you to why taking Kellen to the grocery store slightly terrifies me, see this post That Mom.

The night was uneventful, kids were great and went to bed with no problem. I found myself staring at the little plane on the flight tracker willing it safely across the ocean. I also manged to successfully arm the security system so that was a bonus for me! Once I heard Patrick had landed safely, I managed a decent night's sleep (on his side of the bed of course).

Stay posted for Day 2 antics!

On First Days, Hope, and Good People

And high up above or down below, When you’re too in love to let it go

But if you never try you’ll never know, Just what you’re worth

Light will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try…to fix you

Fix You, Coldplay

There are some who would say “there’s nothing to fix, they are as they are meant to be, love them for who they are”. I accept my son, fully, wholeheartedly, as he is, but I will not accept any limitations for him. So with that in mind, I will try to “fix him” until the day I die. It’s not about changing him, it’s about allowing him access to his potential. It’s about wanting so badly to know what he knows, see what he sees, love what he loves.

“The School” has been a huge part of my proposed treatment plan for Kellen. After over a year on the wait list, several small miracles occurred that led to him starting this semester, and while he’s the youngest there right now, I honestly don’t think he would have been ready for this a year ago…but now, he is SO ready.

I was extremely anxious, nervous, excited, terrified as the days ticked down to his start date. That morning I could barely function. Of course, I wanted Patrick to document the day. I expected frustration and a series of bad pictures. Meanwhile, Kellen found the process somewhat entertaining.

New Shoes

And then of course, I am the typical mother cleaning my son’s nose. No buggers on the first day!

Tristan: “Can you check my nose while you’re at it?”

And then we went to the door to head out, and I wanted to try to get a “first day picture”…you know the ones that all the other moms get. I was certain that this was going to be another one of those reality checks…another “moment” that autism would steal from me because of course he wouldn’t look at the camera and if he did he wouldn’t smile and…and then…and then he did what he does best…surprised the crap out of us. I knelt down next to him, he looked right at the camera and started smiling like crazy, leading to me crying like crazy.

Dropoff went well…I held it together until we got outside without him…then I went to Target and cried into a Starbucks while buying completely random stuff. I counted the minutes until it was time to go pick him up. I managed to distract myself by watching “Honey”. I seem to think I dance just like Jessica Alba in this movie (you know, the one time a year I go dancing now)…but I’m pretty sure that’s comparable to me saying I felt like I was running as fast as the Kenyans on TV in the last few meters of the marathon last year…

Finally it was time to pick him up! And here came my happy boy. He was tired that evening…and somehow ended up looking even MORE like his daddy while snuggling in our bed, but he was good.

Lightning McQueen cup = part of the random crap I bought at Target

The next morning brought more stress as I was going to be leaving him with his before/after school caregiver. I am so lucky to have found another autism mom who was willing to watch him and then drop off/pick up both boys together. I was so nervous that first morning, but he just went running into her house smiling. He has made it so easy, and she is an absolute blessing! I seriously pinch myself that all of this is really happening. The school is one thing, but then to find another mother who would not only watch my son but KNOWS autism…you just couldn’t write a better story.

So this week is a week of hope. Of first days that seemed so normal. And of good people making first days and hope possible.

Autism is Like a Cold

I’ve said it before several months back on this blog. It’s probably my favorite way of describing the term “autism”. Our new favorite doctor actually used the same analogy the first time we were in his office, and I knew we’d get along after that!

Saying someone has “autism” is like saying someone has a cold. There is no one cold, there are numerous viruses, bacterial infections, allergies, inflammatory conditions, etc. that lead you to say someone has a “cold”. Multiple routes to the same itchy, sniffly, stuffy misery (can you tell I really enjoyed my cold this week?) but varying levels of severity of that same misery.

And just like there is no one cold, there is no one autism. I’ve had the privilege to meet several other mothers now, along with their children, and these kids are so completely different…but yet also so the same. Our children have had any number of tests, had more experts than we can fit in a room analyze their every move, been poked and prodded…and the answers are all different, but they’re all the same. Our children have “autism”. This includes the Rainman-esque kid rocking in the corner of the room, this includes children that also have some level of cognitive-deficiency (what some refer to as mental retardation), this includes the gifted savants we often hear about, and this includes our KK…who seems to be bit of an anomaly…I’ll need a separate post to adequately describe “Kellen’s autism”…but then again, I suppose this entire blog describes it…

If you ask the medical/scientific community at large, they will tell you they have no idea how autism actually happens…but the general party line is that it’s an inborn error. They usually like to blame the maternal genes…you know, because it’s always the mom’s fault!

If you ask Jenny McCarthy, she’s 100% sure that autism is caused by vaccines and that it’s completely curable (healable, recoverable?).

If you ask me, well I’d be a crappy politician because I sure like to sit on the fence. Wait, would that make me a good politician? Because I think they’re both wrong…and that they’re both right. Ooooh, maybe I would have been a good politician.

You see, I have the precarious position to belong to both “parties”. I’m a scientist, I need facts and theories, I need experiments, I need answers. But I also fit the definition of the “warrior mom” even if Jenny and I don’t see eye-to-eye on many, many points. And here’s where I’m brutally honest, I am completely focused on Kellen’s autism…what caused it…and what’s fixable. I’ve said before that I hope to pursue an evidence-based medicine/science path with our sample set of 1-Kellen. The path that we are on will not work for everyone, some of you may whole-heartedly disagree with what I may say, what I may do, but it’s our choice. I won’t judge you for yours if you won’t judge me for mine. We all want the same for our children…we want them healthy, we want them happy, and we want them to have the absolute best chance at the life that everyone deserves.

People often ask me what I believe…and I suppose I’m qualified enough to give an opinion, but that’s all it is…so take it as you will. (and forgive me because I’m going to try to make this as un-sciencey as possible) Here are my thoughts on the most commonly implicated causes of autism…

Genetics- Yes, I do believe there’s a genetic component to autism, but it’s well proven by now that there’s no one mutation, not even one gene, not even one chromosome, that’s completely responsible for causing autism. Now multiple mutations have been shown to cause problems in the same biological pathways…different errors causing the same general malfunction. I think it’s the cumulative effect of these small changes that actually cause the symptoms that we see (and why we’re even able to diagnose autism by basic observations as opposed to a laboratory test). Many of these broken metabolic pathways can also be tied back to neurotransmitters, making it highly intriguing science. This is a path that we are pursuing with Kellen. If we can find what’s broken, can we give the body what it needs, what it’s missing? We’re chasing one theory at a time, but my gut tells me that it’s going to take a combination approach to get where we want to be. I’m less focused on the genetics as a diagnostic path and more focused on genetics as a treatment path.

Diet- No, I don’t think what we’re eating is giving our kids autism. I don’t think anything I ate (or didn’t eat) while I was pregnant caused this, I don’t think anything Kellen ate or didn’t eat caused this either. But (here I go on the fence post…) I absolutely believe that diet plays a role in autism. Why? Because I’ve seen it (back to my evidence-based plan). There are various iterations of “autism diets” ranging from the simple to the extreme. Yes, as a society, we generally eat like crap. We could all benefit from a cleaner diet. But these kids, I do in fact believe that some of the same broken pathways I described in the genetics component above cause significant issues in relation to diet. The metabolic and inflammatory pathways that are affected by the mutations cause a significant shift in what can be tolerated in their diet. When you start to look at how things like gluten (wheat) are processed by the body and look biochemically and where it fits in with the mutated/broken pathways, the big picture becomes a little clearer. So does diet cause autism? No. But does diet cause exacerbated symptoms? YES. If you don’t believe me then come over, I’ll give Kellen a cup of milk with a cupcake and let you handle the subsequent carnage. ; )

The Environment…dun-dun-dun- This is a tough one for me. It’s hard to follow my evidence-based plan when I have zero control over this. I guess I plead the 5th on this one with an answer of Maybe? Ultimately it could very well play a significant role…maybe leading to a higher number of spontaneous mutations and an overall increased inflammatory response in the population as a whole (as many have tied it into rises in asthma, allergies, etc. as well). So yes, but because there’s nothing I can do about it, then I don’t dwell on it (you like that non-committal answer?).

Bacteria, Viruses, and Fungi, Oh My!- This is a tough one for me, but it’s in fact a path I’m pursuing professionally. There is absolutely an important microbial component in autism. It’s still a very chicken-or-the-egg concept, but certainly the microbial communities (microbiomes) of these kids are significantly different from their peers. Add in the fact that we have WAY more microbial genes at work in our body than human genes and you can quickly see how the right/wrong group of bugs could help/harm an already volatile environment. I think it’s a fight worth fighting, but I think again there is not a universal approach that will work (and why many “biomed” treatments fail). Treatments need to be tailored to each individual child, and I know the biomed doctors are not running the right tests (because they’re not available yet…but we’re working on it).

Vaccines- There is no more highly polarizing topic in the autism community. First, let me tell you where I come from. I’m that person who chastised friends for not following the vaccine schedule precisely. I thought people who did not get flu shots were irresponsible. I would take any and every vaccine offered to me and my children, call it blind faith. Based on what I do everyday, I was far more terrified of the diseases the vaccines were protecting us from than I ever was of autism. But life has changed that line of thinking, and while I still believe in medicine, I’m also much more tolerant and understanding of every viewpoint. I absolutely see an immune connection to many forms of autism, and I think it's important to consider all potential contributors to prenatal and early postnatal development (which includes all of the above).

Other random proposed causal associations…** Older fathers- Nope, not us. **Anti-depressants while pregnant- Nope, not us. **Obese mothers- Um, no. ** Kids less than 18months apart- uhhhhh, yep (this one actually plays into the folate pathway that we’re currently pursuing… tracks back to a genetic component, more on this later)

My overall take? There are a lot of potentially good treatment paths out there, and we’re just at the start of our journey. I generally think the causation is flawed in many cases, usually due to the fact that people try to overgeneralize to all autism rather than stratifying into relevant and applicable populations. Again, all I care about right now is my population of 1…and this is where we stand…for now.

More on our treatment/therapy plans later…

When People Say I'm Sorry

We say "I'm sorry" for all kinds of reasons to all kinds of people. I bump into someone's grocery cart at the store (which happens a lot because I suck at driving those things): "I'm sorry." A friend tells me that someone close to them has died: "I'm so sorry." Same words, very different sentiment.

I have a lovely summer cold at the moment leaving me a grouchy, stuffy, snotty mess causing Patrick to jokingly say I was "gross" yesterday in front of Larkin. She took offense and told him to say sorry. Not finding his sarcastic "Sooorrryyy." to her satisfaction she then told him "Can you say sorry again politelier?" So begins the next generation of highly useful made-up words. : )

But sorry, back to the topic at hand.

When someone tells you less than favorable news, it’s our natural inclination as caring people to say “I’m sorry”. So the numerous times we’ve had to tell people that Kellen is autistic, well we’re commonly met with “I’m sorry”. Although many insightful people have actually said things like “I want to say I’m sorry, but that doesn’t seem like the right thing to say either.” Truth be told, it’s hard to know what to say. I don’t honestly know what I’d like you to say. Maybe just for you to feel like you don’t have to say anything? Maybe just ask “So what’s your plan now?” Hell if I know. But in the end, I don’t want you to feel bad about saying “I’m sorry”…your heart is in the right place. I just want you to know where our hearts are.

Don’t be sorry Kellen has autism. It’s autism not cancer. He’s not dying, anymore than you or I are.

Don’t be sorry because you feel like we got “less”…we didn’t. Don’t feel sorry for us at all. Remember us when you had to say “I’m sorry” any one of the many times we miscarried. There’s nothing to be sorry about here…have you met Kellen? LOL!

Don’t be sorry because our daily lives are hard…everyone has their own struggle. I see perfectly neurotypical children behaving horribly all the time. It happens. Just don’t judge, we’re all getting by the best we can.

Do be sorry that I can’t just plop my kids in the car and go shopping. But then what mother of young children does that all that well anyway, right?

Do be sorry that we can’t take some lavish vacation because every penny we have needs to go towards Kellen’s therapies/school/treatments while making sure Larkin has all she needs. But then isn’t that what the “hard years” are about anyway?

Do be sorry that we can’t be spontaneous with the kids because we need to follow our “routine”. But let’s face it, I tend to like my routine anyway ; )

Do be sorry that Kellen doesn’t talk…yet…because we are so excited to hear what he has to say when he does.

And here’s the bottom line…we’re not sorry. Would everything be easier for him, for us, if he didn’t have autism. Well, duh. But we know that removing those parts of him would inherently change who he is, who we love, who we need. I love that I can calm him when he’s in the middle of a hurricane of emotions…that no matter what wall autism may build, that I’m the one who can always bring it down. There’s a bond there that is different, that is special, that I would not trade for anything.

He makes us all a little better. Larkin has become a protective, sharing, encouraging big sister. Patrick and I have learned to just go with the flow (well he has…I’m still working on it), and we all have a greater appreciation for the little things…a little song, a little smile, a little funny wave, a Smurf flying into the toilet, a sloping bathtub used as a slide, 2 cats + 1 dog + 2 kids in a game of never-ending giggling chase around the first floor.
Our lives are never boring…and never will be…and for that, I am not sorry.

Why.

Why.
Not a question. A statement (I think).

Not “Oh God, why me?” or all the other various ways of phrasing that particular sentiment.

Simply…”why.”

I have some pretty amazing friends that are there when I need them…even when I forget to call, or email back, or facebook back, or …um, yep, so turns out I generally suck as a friend, but the ones that tolerate me are pretty freaking awesome ; )

Anyway, as I was saying…among those friends are a few that when they get to talking (and when I say talking then obviously that means talking while drinking) find themselves saying it for me…”why did this have to happen to us? Hadn’t we suffered enough? After everything, how did we deserve this?” I love them for thinking it, I love them more for saying it. Let’s face it, we’ve thought it. How could we not? But I’ve chosen (and fought with myself) to not allow myself those thoughts for more than a brief moment.

Why do I choose not to let myself wander (run) down that self-pitying path? Because when you start to ask “why?”, the answer seems to come a little too easily. I have multiple friends, from very different stages of my life, who truly knew/know very different iterations of me, who all say the same thing… that it can’t have been coincidence. They believe that I was purposely given an autistic child…that there was a reason…that I was meant to go down this road…because I would change the road for those behind me.

Why me? Because what if this is what will make my life matter…what if this is my purpose…

First let me say that there are many stay at home mothers of autistic children who do a damn good job of researching and understanding highly complex material related to genetics, biochemistry, immunology, etc. without having spent years in college classrooms attempting to learn it. I’ve definitely learned a thing or two from these moms myself.

But why me? Here is this complex disease that spans genetic mutations, broken metabolic pathways, immunologic responses, altered microbiomes, etc…And guess what...this is what I've been trained to do. This is what all my favorite people in the offices/labs around me have been trained to do, too. If I was searching for a purpose, well here it is slapping me in the face.

Why? Why me? Why the hell not me?
Most of you know my general hate for the "Everything happens for a reason" line...but holy crap, what if everything happens for a reason...sure makes all of this a lot easier to swallow.

So I'm taking a different approach. All of the above is my "why."
Because I can.
Because he can.
Because we will.

One last thought. When we were first diagnosed, much of what I read was firmly rooted in the "why God why?" line of thought. One piece that has always stuck with me was that they recommended we “mourn the child we dreamed of”. Huh? I call bullshit. I only mourn for the time I wasted reading that crap. He's not less, he's different. He doesn't make me want to mourn anything except that I wish everyone else understood him as well as I am beginning to.
He feels strongly, he loves unconditionally, and he laughs infectiously.
I don't have time to mourn...I'm too busy being in awe of him...and planning the future for all of us.

Trust

Things are changing. I personally feel myself regressing emotionally because I feel the weight of it all bearing down on me so quickly. But change isn't always bad, and if this perfect storm continues to come together, we will all be so much better for it...but we obviously will have a few growing pains along the way.

I go through phases of complete and utter overwhelmedness (did I just create that word?). Thankfully those periods are broken up by what I like to call my "well-adjusted" phases. I need to focus on more of those, even if it's a "fake it till you make it" deal I make with myself on bad days.
In the end, I learned that it all seems to boil down to trust...and faith.

The Man
Patrick made a job change...scratch that, not a job change, a career change. Gone is the soccer coach/teacher and in his place is a white collar corporate instructor. I like the corporate man. So far he's happier, he dresses prettier, and he's home in the evenings. When we get to August and he's home with us every weekend, it's really going to blow our minds. The change scared the crap out of me. But I had to trust him...trust that this would be a positive move for him, trust that this would be good for all of us, trust that this was the path we were meant to be on.

The Girl
Larkin changed schools. I've trusted the same place with my children since they were born, but due to a long story on their poor communication/consideration with Kellen, we were presented with an opportunity to make a change for her. We could get her into an accredited preK with more structure and more educational opportunities. We even took her with us to tour, got her opinion, and she transitioned seamlessly. I had to trust these people to care for her the way I would. I had to trust that she had the strength to make such a big change. And she did...the report on her first day was that she had already taken over the class. I go in there, barely 3 weeks later, and she has new friends hugging her, running to her, flocking to that magnetic energy that she can't help but exude. People joke that she's my mini-me...but this is all Larkin...she has the confidence that I never had growing up.

The Boy
I've slowly realized that our interactions have changed. It's subtle, but it's slowly accumulated into a very different mother-son relationship. I trust him. Some of it was forced, Patrick telling me to let him do things like walk independently from the car to the front door. But the rest has been gradual...trusting that if I tell him to stop, he'll stop. Trusting that if I go into another part of the house that he'll keep playing and just find me if he needs me. Trusting that he won't hop the gate at the top of the stairs, or climb up his chest of drawers, or play in the toilet...at least no more likely than the average 3-year old. I've even seen healthy fear...of heat, of stairs, of water too deep. It's all so....normal. So I find myself developing a more trustful and natural interaction with him than I ever expected this young. Mind you, his tattle-tale sister helps along the trust front, but still...it's a positive change.

The Doctor
This needs a complete series of posts, maybe even a dissertation, but the short story is that we've begun to work with a new doctor. He's a pediatrician, but he has a special interest in autism. I met him as a scientist, and so we've been able to have our discussions at a different level. I think I was sold during our first office visit, when he got down on the floor with Kellen, and Kellen went to sit in his lap. We're embarking on a completely new path with him. I continue with my ideal of pursuing evidence-based medicine in my n = 1 study. We had some theories...and we've had some data come back recently that suggest he fits the "autism mold" we were looking to find. I'm terrified, I'm excited, and I have to trust that this will be worth it...and I have to have faith that this could and will matter...and maybe even matter to more than just our KK.

The School
I find myself writing a lot of big checks lately. Again, this is something that will deserve it's own line of blog posts, but to summarize, we're moving Kellen to a full-time ABA program (an "autism school") in the fall. For those out of the loop, this is the big leagues, the "throw everything at them all day long sink or swim" mentality. The general idea is that the younger they are, the more rapid progress they can make. We've been on the wait list for over a year...and now we've been given a start date. We have such high hopes...so much so that it sends me into a panic just thinking about starting. And then the financial bill attached to that hope is enough to send you puking in the toilet.

Me
Well you see this is where it all starts to fall apart...because none of this will work without trust in myself. Trust that I won't literally fall apart the first time that Patrick has to take an overseas work trip. Trust that I won't throw it all out the window (drugs, supplements, therapy?) the first time Kellen has a setback. Trust that I can continue to function effectively in the sea of constant change. Trust that all the hard moments won't keep me from seeing (and appreciating) all the amazingly wonderful awe-inspiring moments.

Trust and faith...that we are right where we are supposed to be...and that it will all be worth it in the end.

My European Tour, Part IV: Back to Paris and Coming Home

I easily made my way back to Paris, but when I arrived it was pouring. After I soaked myself trying to find the Metro, I got smart and took a cab. The good news about the drenching rain is that it seemed to somehow "wash" Paris. It smelled less, looked less dirty. This was also helped by the arrival of much cooler weather that evening that persisted over the rest of my stay.

I finally got to meet up with everyone, and we headed straight over to Musee d'Orsay. Again, a beautiful museum, and I was very excited to see some of my favorite pieces from Monet, Renoir, Van Gogh, and Degas. Apparently you can't take pictures in there but I managed to sneak a few.

We walked back over the Seine toward the hotel and found this supercool bridge...all the locks had couples' names on them. I wish I had gone back and put a lock with our name on it! Totally random, but I thought it was pretty cool.

Then I saw these superhuge flowers and knew I had to take a picture of them for Larkin. 

That night I learned we were right down the street from "The Opera"...as in the operahouse from Phantom of the Opera...that was pretty awesome.

I also got the to FaceTime with the kids that night and found myself getting really emotional. So much so that Larkin proceeded to try to wipe my tears from the iPhone screen. Kellen even gave me a few huge smiles, but thankfully did not seem at all concerned about me being in the phone instead of there. I am so grateful for that. I needed to see them happy and doing well.

Then the next morning while I was getting ready for the conference, my FaceTime rings again...this would be past midnight Texas time. It's Patrick...I answer and he says "Did you know Wal-Mart had wifi?" So we proceed to chat via FaceTime, me fresh from the shower with no make-up and he sleep-deprived and looking for what the kids need since they were coming home the next morning. That man is completely lost without me and I love him for it. I missed him so, so that call really helped me get through the next few days.

And then it was time to work. The meeting was great. All went well work-wise. The best part of the conference was that in place of our usual lunch fare of either cold sandwiches or fish/chicken of the day we were served hot French food with cute little salads, awesome mini desserts, and more importantly WINE...in the middle of the day!

The wine however caused the need for a mid-day coffee run...to where else? Starbucks! LOL! You know I can't stay away! The funniest part is that the coffee was about the same price there in Euros as it is here in US$...meaning my $5 coffee was more like my $7 coffee....OOPS!

The first day of the conference also marked the death of my curling iron. It had been hanging on through the European voltage, but finally succumbed an hour before I was to report to the meeting (and before I had finished my hair!). I am now the proud owner of a European hair straightener (let me know if anyone needs to borrow it! LOL!).
The second morning of the conference, I got up early to visit Notre Dame. It was absolutely beautiful. I sat through a short French mass, and then took a few pictures.

I also lit a candle for my family...for our Kellen. That's his candle in the middle in the picture below.

The rest of the trip was a whirlwind. I managed to run us into some accidental shopping while looking for the Starbucks and found the rest of my souvenirs. I even accidentally kicked around the soccer ball with French kids in the plaza in front of our conference center (the Palais Brongniart). I became very confident with my navigation of the Metro, too. We had a pretty awesome gala dinner, too. Let's just say the French start with champagne and appetizers, then feed you a long drawn out dinner with wine freely flowing, then personally invite you (table to table, no microphone announcement) to join them for after dinner drinks and dessert (this would be second dessert). Then there was the after-after party...a good time was had by all...and much Starbucks, water, and Aleve was consumed the next day ; )

Our last day there I was literally counting down the minutes. The best part was seeing an autism study on the "big screen" that proved exactly what I (and so many autism mothers) already knew. Antibiotic treatment can induce severe negative behavior changes in children with autism...please refer to my prior post Regression and a Confession. And it just helped to push me in the right direction...the doctors didn't know. But I knew...without anyone ever telling me, I knew when I saw it, and then the mothers told me...and then my own science told me. The right people have been talking to me all along, and it was time for me to start listening. I need to start trusting my instincts...and trusting the mothers that have forged their own path without waiting for doctors or published science to catch up. But that's a post for another time (and there will be oh so many).
I was lucky enough to have FaceTime one more time with the kids that night. Larkin was excited (Patrick seemed pretty excited, too), but not only did KK give me big smiles, he stole the phone out of Patrick's hand and put it right up to his face. At one point, I'm pretty sure he was trying to feed the phone, but he was definitely trying to kiss and trying to see me as closely as possible...I loved it!
We barely slept that night and were up at 4am to get ourselves together and wait for the shuttle. I had packed my fancy European straightener, so I decided to try our Jennifer's "curly hair stuff" (titled Foxy Hair) to see what it would do with my temperamentally wavy hair. Not much was going on as it dried, so it ended up in a bun by the time we got to the airport. Once we made it through the various levels of security, I took it down...to see some seriously foxy hair. Remember that episode of Friends where Monica's hair kept getting bigger? That was me...sadly no pictures were taken (thank goodness!).

Our plane ended up being about an hour late for takeoff...during which I had the breakfast of champions = latte , chocolate croissant, with a chardonnay chaser! The breakfast of all nervous fliers! LOL! I managed to get on the plane without too much stress, but did shed a tear when we took off....I had never been more ready to get home to my family. Flight was ok, we watched Breaking Dawn which was a good 2 hour distraction. Then I took a little nap (yay me!), then read for awhile, then started freaking out as we hit some bumpiness getting closer to Houston! The descent felt like a roller coaster, and the group of high school kids on our flight proceeded to throw their hands in the air everytime we hit a bump and say "Wooooaaaahhh!" LOL! Then after a less than ideal landing, they broke out into applause.

I'll  never forget stepping off that airplane. The heat, the humidity...I was HOME! I could feel my European dried skin instantly moisturizing...could feel my chapped lips plumping up again. I'm a Texas-grown girl, and my soul said...you are HOME! Then I couldn't get through customs fast enough!

Suffice to say, I had an amazing reunion with everyone. The kids were great. They were excited to see me, but didn't seem at all traumatized that I had been gone. I had never been so grateful to have 50 questions coming from one while the other was pulling me off for something he needed...all while Patrick proceeded to fall asleep in my lap whenever I was sitting still. My life was back...and crazy as it was...I missed it terribly.

Jet lag was fun, my first time, but not too terrible. Less than 48 hours after I landed, I had to do a 5K race...and while I contemplated taking the timing tag off my shoe due to fear of embarrassment, I managed to post a PR with a time of 26:07! I think I've been training all wrong, and I must add French wine and Belgian beer to my marathon training plan next year ; )

So ends my European adventure. I'm glad I went, it was an experience I needed, and made me appreciative of all that I have...and even all that we have ahead of us.

My European Tour, Part III: Brussels!

While the beginning of this story is fairly dramatic (I know, you're shocked right?), this is by far, my favorite, favorite, favorite reason for having gone to Europe! I had been dreading (and constantly thinking of ways to get out of) this trip until a few months ago, one of my closest (which is funny because she's my farthest friend distancewise!) friends Jenn said they might be moving to Brussels. I admit, I encouraged her. I knew she could totally handle it, the kids would thrive, and they would all be better for the experience...I like to live vicariously through other people ; ) So, when her move was a done deal, it was my turn to commit to my trip and book a train trip to Brussels!

It seemed relatively simple. I just had to get to the north train station in Paris, take the "fast train" to Brussels, and then take one local train to their "suburb" Hoeilaart (or something like that...believe me it doesn't sound anything like it's spelled!). I studied the metro in Paris, figured out what I was doing, and was SO PROUD to have found Gare du Nord (the north train station) with zero problems!

When you get in the train station, you learn that there's big board that's constantly updating that will tell you which platform to go to about 15 minutes before your train departs. I really felt like I was going to Hogwart's at this point. I was so excited that I even took a picture of the fast train : )

Turns out that wasn't my train...I kept hearing announcements about my train number, but none were in English...then I saw the word "Retarde" pop up next to my train number....WTF! I have the only train that is freaking late. I start to panic. My train finally gets there, I board no problem, but I quickly realize I'm going to miss my connection train in Brussels. Then they tell us the wifi is out on the train...crap!

Before I get to drama, let me say that the fast train is super cool, but I did feel like we were going to crash at any moment...the turns are serious LOL! The best part is that it made me feel like I was on Alias...gosh I miss that show!

We get to Brussels, and I try to figure out where the eff I am...and quickly realize I have no idea and none of the signs are in English. I wait in line for the one information desk girl and of course learn that I've missed my train. I try to call Jenn...and realize now that I don't have her new number. I also come to the conclusion that I'm not sure these information people are telling me to get on the right train because the platform they pointed me to says nothing about Hoeilaart. Not to mention I'm stuck there for an hour...cue complete emotional meltdown while on the phone to Patrick.

Short version "I hate Europe" "Why can't everyone just speak English?" "I want to go home."

I'm surprised I didn't start chanting USA in the middle of the train station.

Patrick was cool as could be...everything is fine, I'm sure Jenn will call you when she sees you're not there, don't worry...blah, blah, blah. Apparently he was not as calm as he pretended to be!

Luckily, my "little bit of Kellen" made me count all of the stop names that were before Hoeilaart, so not only did I know the entire sequence, I also knew that we were theoretically the 9th stop. When I got on the train, I learned they do NOT call out the stops, so panic again! But a very nice older man said he was going to a stop past there and would gladly tell me when to get off. Turns out it was the 9th stop, so I would have theoretically been ok, but he did a lot to calm my nerves (plus obviously he spoke English).

This led to me being a little more calm when I finally talked to Jenn (who at that point was trying to sound calming but only made me realize how freaked out they all were when I heard how hard she was trying "I WILL BE THERE TO GET YOU, DON'T WORRY!". Thankfully Adam (her husband) called next, and well he's always calm, so that helped me not to freak out.

When I finally got there, I exited the train at basically a pile of dirt that served as a train station, panicked momentarily, and then once the train passed, I saw the head of bleached blonde that I love so dearly! I exited the ghetto train stop and got into Jenn's very nice rental car which held a glass of wine in the cupholder....few people know me as well as she does!

I made it to their house, and while reintroducing myself to the two children I have bathed, read stories to, and comforted after a fall more times than I can count, Adam proceeded to take my glass, refill it, and put it back in my hand without me even realizing. LOL!

We had such a great night catching up, playing with the kids, awesome food, champagne, wine. Jenn even made me try caviar for the first time...um, not a fan. But it was the best because I got to try it with the kids. Again, I saw Gwen when she was born in the hospital, and not only did I see Cole when he was born, we even stayed the night with Gwen when they had to go to the hospital to have Cole. These kids were my kids before I even knew I wanted kids...and they were my surrogate kids when we were trying oh so hard to have them....they really kept me going during such a difficult time.

So it was awesome to see their little personalities...not much had changed LOL! Larkin is just like Gwen was at 4, so it was fun to see what I'm in for. Cole needs his own TV show he's so hilarious.

Anyway, we forced ourselves to go to bed, and I was so excited to get Gwen's room...I'm pretty sure you could fit 2 of my Paris hotel rooms in her room. Had a terrific night's sleep, and got up and got ready eagerly as I could hear the kids rumbling around.

After a yummy breakfast (I had better croissants in Belgium than France! and my coffee came with Bailey's in it), Jenn and I headed out into Brussels. Allow me to take an aside for a moment...Jenn is a terrible driver. I am not really prone to motion sickness, but get in the car with her for too long, and anyone would be. We'd literally hold on when we got in the car with her, and I don't think Patrick ever succeeded in being a passenger in her car. Knowing this, the idea of having her drive me around in a foreign country was a bit scary...and I was right to be scared LOL! We survived though, and made it to my new favorite grocery store in the world...Rob!

Rob is awesome because they have supercool stuff, and their upstairs has grass carpet with cow covered chairs...yep. But what was more awesome was the hot chocolate you made by swirling a block of chocolate into hot milk.

Then we made our way into central Brussels, into what I think was called the Grand Palace? I don't know, but it was freaking beautiful. It was SO charming, and I loved it so much more than Paris.

That might have something to do with the fact that every other store front was a chocolate shop that looked like this...

We did A LOT of shopping...which really, that's what Jenn and I are good at...shopping for random crap...but there's not a Target in downtown Brussels so it was toy stores and candy shops ; )

Then we decided we were hungry, and when I say hungry, I mean thirsty. We stopped at an awesome place, sat upstairs, and I had the best Croque Hawaiian, which was like a grilled cheese with ham and pineapple on the best bread ever. I also learned that in Belgium, they only give you your beer in a glass made for that beer. Something about this made me super happy! Affligem Brune was pretty badass.

We did more shopping which included Jenn trying to cross a street while traffic was coming, screaming, and then running back out of the street...none of this shocked me as I'm pretty sure we did this in Texas regularly. Then I decided I had to pee, which translated into us being "thirsty" again...I will never get used to paying for a freaking toilet! But the wine was good ; )

Then it started raining, which didn't phase us one bit, but made us put our hoods on. We of course could not pass us taking a picture of this restaurant for Patrick.

The whole trip through downtown, we're trying to make our way to seeing the "peeing kid". I confess, I expected a large statue of a child peeing in the middle of the fountain...I was a little underimpressed by 1) how small it was and 2) that it was covered up in St. Patrick's Day clothes...but by this point I was having my first Belgian waffle and didn't care.

And then...it happened. The one thing I was lacking on my trip...I saw a real live ROBO (again, see  Eurotrip for the reference!)!!! My European experience was now complete! This would have been awesome, except when I sent this picture to Patrick, he realized that I had on my arm a set of beer glasses which were obviously for him so he wrote back "Don't break my glasses on the plane!" and totally ruined the surprise LOL!

We finally made our way home where the kids were eagerly waiting for their new playmate. I then made the cardinal sin of wearing socks on stairs and went flying around the corner of this... to which Gwen remarked "Wow, you were going really fast" and "You went really far" and I remarked "Owww" and "I'm ok"...and then Jenn handed me a Limoncello with champagne and all was ok...

And then we had these for dessert and everything was really okay....along with this bread that had apples and infused liquor and oh my God, Jenn, send me a loaf of that bread in the mail!!!

We stayed up and talked and drank and then in true Jenn form, she fell asleep mid-conversation. I went up to bed, talked to Patrick for a bit (this time difference was still so weird for us), and had a terrific night's sleep. Woke up early the next  morning to spend more time with the kids. While we were hanging around that morning, I also got to experience the best of Belgian satellite TV...which at that point in time was Nigerian Idol...LOL!

Now, this pond behind us was absolutely gorgeous, except that it's home to some very horny frogs. I witnessed frogs copulating and huge disgusting masses of frog eggs. As a scientist, it was super interesting...as a mother, I would totally have freaked trying to explain that to kids..LOL! The frog plague may be coming to Brussels, I mean Hoeilaart, I mean Jenn's house!

I hated leaving...absolutely hated it. Jenn and Adam had made me feel so at home in this ridiculously foreign place. The kids were amazing, made me so proud that I was there when they were babies, and helped quell that ache in my heart I had from being away from my own kids that week. I dreaded going back to Paris, and I hated the fact that these guys were going to be an ocean away from us for the next couple of years...I vowed to come back! And we will. While Patrick hated Paris, he's never been to Brussels and I know he would love it. We never go anywhere, but the kids are getting older, and they adore staying with Nina and Papa, so if we set aside a little vacation money, I think this would be awesome...we need it, and I can't think of a better place to head to.  We've always said we'd visit them, and it's crazy that of the 3 places they've lived since Texas, BELGIUM is the only house I've made it to...LOL! Well we just might be there twice!

Suffice to say, I boarded my train back to Paris with no problem. I shed a few tears as I pulled away, but I knew work was waiting for me...which will be continued in the next and last post...