Chickity China the Chinese Chicken

Just to be clear, that's a reference to a Barenaked Ladies song. Patrick and I have tons of catch phrases, movie/song quotes, etc that only we understand. Reading our text messages would make you think we're insane. After 17 years, I think we've developed our own language.

In truth, this post is about my trip to China. Holy cow, what complete and total culture shock! I managed to get on the plane without incident thanks to my friends Mr. Grey (Goose) and Mrs. Xanax. I also managed to sleep, which is basically unheard of for me on a plane, but it did leave at 1am. I should have seen the foreshadowing when halfway through the flight we received a snack...a half sandwich...turkey and cheese on white bread. And then this came for "breakfast".

We landed in Beijing at 4am local time. Immediately we saw the haze...it never went away. Pollution is scary and sad. We roamed the airport aimlessly and I discovered my phone didn't work in China, gee thanks AT&T! Found some coffee at Jackie Chan's tea house (seriously) and waited for our flight to Hangzhou.

Landed in Hangzhou to see the same level of pollution...and grouchy me came out. The cab ride was a disaster...traffic, terrible driving, not exactly gorgeous scenery...I was done before we'd ever even made it to our destination! 

And then we got to our hotel...we had been alerted by my assistant that the conference hotel had terrible reviews. (And since we spent the entire conference there we can confirm that it was stinky, gross, smoky, and had no wifi!). So my international man of mystery (Patrick) found us an alternate hotel... It. Was. Awesome. Waterfall ceiling shower, separate sitting area, and this tub complete with bath salts.

After a shower, we were ready to check out our surroundings, and in mere minutes, I found civilization!

I managed to hit 4 different Starbucks while in Hangzhou believe it or not! We headed over to the conference to see that the program was super sized so of course we took goofy pics by our names!

The next day brought day 1 of the conference and day 1 of my dislike of Chinese food. I'm starting to think PF Chang was NOT Chinese. Also, the Chinese have some aversion to efficient air conditioning...but also allow smoking indoors...I was miserable!!! Never have my thighs sweat so much! And I DON'T sweat (my running buddies can attest to that awesome genetic fact!).

I also become an accidental vegetarian...

This was all I could manage from the lunch buffet the first day...

We made it through the conference with the help of Starbucks and a place called Paris Baguette, gave great presentations, and even won a couple of "major awards".

I was on an extra committee and ended up touring a local hospital (which I later learned had been treating many of the "new" flu cases...oh joy, not really wanting to relive the movie Contagion thanks!) and going to a catered dinner. I should also note that somewhere between winning the award and heading to the tour, I blew out my dress...like seriously seams ripped on both sides. It wasn't even tight! I tried to ask for a safety pin or sewing kit at the conference hotel, but that wasn't working. I finally got a single safety pin and went to the bathroom to see what I could do...and discovered I had TWO rips on one side and one on the other. I then had a brilliant idea to ask for a stapler...but I don't know the Chinese word for it. So here I go again with charades...they probably thought I was asking for an alligator. Finally someone understands and hands me the world's smallest stapler, which I then have to take back to the bathroom. The staples helped a tiny bit but there were still gaping wounds in my BRAND NEW DRESS! I managed to make it home without major incident amazingly!

Side 1 and Side 2!

The quality of the food at the catered dinner was much better (I had good shrimp and a decent couple bites of beef), but the 11 course meal was a little out there for me at times.

Apparently there's a sea cucumber floating in this soup...

Also, they only served your wine in quantities this big...

And apparently I had the biggest issues with the soups...I can't even speculate on what that is...

Thankfully, we had one free day before heading home. We'd run outside 2 days prior, and I kind of think we needed inhalers after, but the weather (smog) didn't seem as bad on our day by West Lake. The humidity and heat was still in full force though, so we tracked the day by the "How big is my hair?" gauge a la the Friends episode where Monica's hair supersizes in Hawaii...it really does happen to some of us given the right climate!

Look another Starbucks!

This is the sign in the Starbucks bathroom...

Um...yeah...

The good news is that West Lake was beautiful. We saw quite a bit of the lake, tons of lotus flowers, and did some shopping in a nearby market.

You'll notice I'm wearing my A&M shirt...and yes, even in Hangzhou I had a chance to talk college football with a couple of UT and LSU fans!

I also had my best Chinese meal that day...at Pizza Hut!

And before we knew it, time to head home. Delay on the first flight (Hangzhou to Beijing), which gave me time to read the terribly translated airline magazine.

Please don't ever put a "bowel" on the table...

Then we had time in Beijing to pick up a few more souvenirs, get lunch/drinks, and then let me get a beer from the vending machine...seriously...it was $1.

I should also note that on my way to the airport I realized I left my curling iron...in the minibar fridge...I was trying to cool it down before packing...oops!

 

The long flight home was miserable to say the least. I learned that I don't exactly mix with Traditional Chinese culture...mostly due to my love of orderly lines and general hand/respiratory hygiene. I was unbelievably happy to be back on US soil!

 

After a ridiculously long immigration line, I made it through customs and saw a little curly head I recognized buying candy at the little shop there. Saw 2 more heads I knew, and while they had definitely surprised me, I was able to surprise them when they turned around. Larkin ran right into my arms...and once Kellen saw me he did the same...best feeling ever!

China Cliff Notes:

* Don't fly Air China unless you're actually Chinese.

* There are no lines, it's a free for all, so just get in there!

* Always wait for the "normal" toilet.

* They really do like taking pictures over there...like A LOT. We felt like the paparazzi were following us everywhere.

* If in dire need, proceed to your nearest Starbucks. They speak at least a little English and have pastries that you recognize.

* Xanax was not a miracle drug, but I made it there and back without crying so...

* Facebook (and Twitter, and lots of other stuff) is BLOCKED in China. Which is probably a good thing because they might have kicked me out if I'd had the opportunity to post my feelings in real-time!

* When crossing the street, just keep moving. Amazingly, the cars, scooters, and bikes never seem to crash into each other...but you have to keep MOVING or they don't know what to do with you LOL!

* Purell...that is all!

 

We all know that I'm a terrible traveler, so this trip was certainly a challenge. In the end, I'm happy to have gone, but I'm also happy that my next trip is to PHOENIX! Meanwhile, everytime Ni hao Kai-lan comes on I'm compelled to change the channel...maybe I should have paid attention to that show a little more before I left!

Rebuttal of "That Hateful Autism Letter"

In case you missed it, a terrible letter was sent to a grandmother that was watching her autistic grandson this summer. You can read the news coverage here.

http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/dailybrew/ontario-police-aware-hateful-letter-telling-family-euthanize-171036930.html

I’ve been trying to find a way to address this situation in a productive way. I decided that this was my best outlet. Below you’ll find the full text of the letter, with my comments inserted in parentheses.

To the lady living at this address:

I also live in this neighborhood and have a problem!!! (...a problem with over-punctuation apparently). You have a kid that is mentally handicapped and you consciously decided that it would be a good idea to live in a close proximity neighborhood like this???? (You missed a comma...obviously you play favorites when it comes to punctuation.) You selfishly put your kid outside everyday and let him be a nothing but a nuisance and a problem to everyone else with that noise polluting whaling he constantly makes!!! (First...run-on sentence, missing a comma, and it’s “wailing”. If you think he’s killing whales in the backyard then obviously you should check your medication.) That noise he makes when he is outside is DREADFUL!!!!!!!!!! It scares the hell out of my normal children!!!!!!! (Wow, scared “normal” kids, however will they recover? Why not take this teachable moment and tell them exactly what that “dreadful” noise is? Kids are innocent and accepting. It’s parents like you that teach intolerance and discrimination. Way to go.) When you feel your idiot kid needs fresh air, take him to our park you dope!!! (And you can’t go to said park because...?) We have a nature trail!! (Awesome, maybe you should go start exercising so that you have a chance at outrunning the angry mob...go ahead, get going. Should I take this moment to mention that a large number of super-angry autism moms also run marathons to raise funds for autism research and awareness? Hope you’re in good shape!) Let him run around those places and make noise!!!!!! Crying babies, music and even barking dogs are normal sounds in a residential neighborhood!!!!! He is NOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (You want to talk about normal? Sixteen exclamation points is not normal. If you really wanted to make your point strongly, why in the world wouldn’t you utilize all caps for the whole letter? DUH!)

He is a hindrance to everyone and will always be that way!!!!! (Well the world is still spinning with you in it, so I’m thinking he has a fair shot.) Who the hell is going to care for him?????? (Are you saying that you’re not available to help?) No employer will hire him, no normal girl is going to marry/love him and you are not going to live forever!! (Neither are you genius, and if autism saves him from a wife like you, then thank goodness for that.) Personally, they should take whatever non retarded body parts he possesses and donate it to science. (I’m thinking “non retarded” should be hyphenated. Why don’t you go first with the donations? Your brain could potentially provide exciting data on the origins of hate...then again, the specimen would probably be too small. Never mind!) What the hell else good is he to anyone!!! (Is this a question?) You had a retarded kid, deal with it…properly!!!!! (Sounds like they are, too bad you’re not doing the same with your children.) What right do you have to do this to hard working people!!!!!!! (I’m just going to go out on a limb and say you have no idea what hard work is. If you’d like to know, give me a call. However my hard work requires you to understand a lot of big words, so I’m not sure you’d even begin to comprehend (see small brain referenced above)). I HATE people like you who believe, just because you have a special needs kid, you are entitled to special treatment!!! (Special treatment, no. Compassion, acceptance, and maybe a smile and wave from our neighbors, yes. Every person on this earth deserves that.) GOD!!!!!! (Now you’ve done it. Did you really want to call his attention to this letter? Better prepare for an eternity of warm weather...I‘ve heard the screaming there is dreadful as well, how unfortunate for you.)

Do everyone in our community huge a favor and MOVE!!!! (“Huge a favor” is an awesome phrase, think I’ll start using it.) VAMOSE!!! (Ooooo, pulling out a big word.) SCRAM!!!! (Are they cats or have you time traveled about 50 years in the past?) Move away and get out of this type of neighborhood setting!!! (I’m thinking the neighborhood setting is not going to work out for you after this letter.) Go live in a trailer in the woods or something with your wild animal kid!!! (Wild animal kid, so maybe he really was “whaling”? Your letter is really lacking detail here. Also, I’m thinking you may be more suited to a trailer.) Nobody wants you living here and they don’t have the guts to tell you!!!!! (Well I’m pretty sure A LOT of people are going to have the guts to tell you that they don’t want you living there anymore. Good luck on your housing search!)

Do the right thing and move or euthanize him!!! Either way, we are ALL better off!!!

Sincerely,

One pissed off mother!!!!! (Oh you can’t even imagine what a pissed off mother really is. Apparently we can add “coward” to your growing list of attributes. Sign your name if you mean it.)

The one comment I didn’t touch was the line suggesting the child be euthanized. There’s nothing funny about that. There’s no witty comment that makes that any better. Every mother of an autistic child read that line and felt their throat tighten, their stomachs lurch, the hair on the back of their neck stand up, and their fists close. How dare you. How dare you for one second suggest that these children’s lives have no value. You are a sad excuse for a human being, and I pity you and your poor children. But thank you. Thank you for rallying the community around this family. Thank you for again uniting all families facing autism on a daily basis. Thank you for reminding me that what I do for my child every day matters to this world. Thank you for reminding me that even on my worst parenting day, my kids will be so much better off than the children that are raised by parents like you.

This is the world we live in, whether we want to admit it or not. I won’t stop trying to change this world. I share the good and the bad of our lives with autism. And in the end, I hope I can arm all of my family, friends, and readers with the information, the compassion, and the acceptance that the autism community needs.

The Shared Nightmare

I had a nightmare a couple of weeks ago. It was the kind of nightmare where you wake up hoping, praying with every last ounce of yourself that it was in fact a dream. The kind of nightmare that evokes feelings/emotions so real that you have adrenaline running through your veins when you finally open your eyes. The kind of nightmare that keeps you up the rest of the night.

We all have a select few nightmares that we will remember throughout the course of our lifetimes. The ones that make your stomach drop and your heart hurt to even think about. The cruelest tricks of memory that make you remember and relive pain that (praise God) never actually happened…at least not to me. And I pray every day (every minute) that it never does…but this is my fear…all of our shared nightmare…because for some…it is reality.

We were at a party…in some Inception-like combination of our house, my parents’ house, and some large building I’ve never seen before. Kellen asked to go into the backyard. I let him out what looked like my back door. I followed him into this huge expanse (that is not my backyard), and then I went to check the gate. Because I always check the gate, because the gate is always closed, and so I check it anyway to see it closed, because I have to, because the gate has to be closed, it has to. So I check it and of course it’s closed, but as I turn around, I see that this is not my backyard, not my fence, there’s another opening…far, far away. And that gate is open…and through that open gate, I see a busy street, and beyond it, what I can only describe as a busy city and wide open space in one. Kellen was gone, he went through the open gate, and for that brief (but felt like an eternity) moment, I glimpsed what so many parents like me have had to actually endure. My child was gone, my child who lacks the ability to communicate, who lacks a healthy fear of dangerous situations, who lacks basic survival skills…gone...and my world collapsed.

And then I woke up…Woke up crying, shaking, panting. Woke up to frantically check the video monitor and see him snuggled in his bed. I woke up from hell...but not everybody gets that chance.

Since I had that dream, countless children with autism have wandered and been found, but in just the past couple of weeks, 3 children with autism, all pre-verbal, were found too late…all having drowned. This is the fear that ALL autism parents live with. This is the life we lead, trying to stay one step ahead of the worst. I know many parents that have faced this fear head on, more than once. They are amazing parents, and you cannot imagine the precautions that they take. It’s not a matter of if your child will wander, for most of us, it is when. The lucky ones will find their child in the backyard playing in the middle of the night. The unlucky…those are the nightmares.

We don’t get to be normal parents. It takes only seconds for them to get away. I joke about my helicopter parenting tactics with Kellen, but it’s a necessity. It is for his safety and my sanity. The security system on the house is 10% to keep people out and 90% to keep Kellen in…how would we sleep otherwise?

Our saving grace is Larkin. She watches him, she tattles (Kellen’s opening the door to the garage! Kellen is trying to climb the upstairs baby gate! Kellen is trying to open the fence gate!), she helps me be more places at once…if not, I’d never get a chance to shower when Patrick is gone.

I share all of this with you so that you can be aware. So that you can not place blame on these poor parents that have lost their children too soon and instead offer prayers of comfort to the parents of Mikaela Lynch, Owen Black, and Drew Howell. So that you can continue to pray that few of us will ever have to experience this pain.

I’ve seen cries for better alert systems specifically for children with autism, and I’m all for it. Normal rules don’t apply here. The timeline needs to be tighter, the search tactics need to be different, throw the normal rules out the window and start over. Because I don’t have the luxury of being with him 24/7. Because these kids that were lost were with their parents…the people who know them best. Because it takes just seconds for them to break through our carefully laid security plans. It takes just seconds for nightmares to become reality.

He's Just a Little Boy

April is Autism Awareness Month, but the “awareness” aspect tends to get under the skin of many parents so I think we’ve all relabeled it Autism ACTION Month. It’s fitting that I get to tell this story in the month of April. A story I always knew would be told…just not so soon.

In the past couple of months, I’ve found myself wondering if we should talk to Larkin about autism. She’s always known (I think even before us) that something was different with Kellen and has always explained it to others as “Kellen doesn’t talk” or mid-meltdown she’ll say “He’s having a hard time”. I brought up this topic with my co-workers during lunch one day and received mixed opinions. “She’s too young.”, “What about the stigma associated with the word?”, “Will she really understand?”, mixed with “It’s worth a try.”, “If she already sees the difference, then it might be good to put a name on it.” In the end my thought was that I wanted her to know “the word”, I wanted to take away the negative power of that word and instead give her the positive power to use it. If a barely 5-year old can use it without flinching, then it’s a lesson to all of us. I talked to Patrick and he agreed that we should talk to her about it, but the opportunity presented itself but a few days later (late last month).

We were dropping Kellen off at school, and he was having a particularly rough morning. Larkin asked what was wrong with him…I gave my usual response…”He’s having a hard day”…and then she said “But why does he have hard days?” And so there was my opening. I went for it. I reminded her of his bad days, of the fact that he doesn’t talk, of his need for structure and routine, of cars lined up, and I told her. I said it was called “autism”. She repeated it. “Autism”. I told her that he wasn’t sick, but that “autism” was what the doctors called it. She said, “Well that’s not that bad, it’s not like my rashes and me being allergic to metal, it’s not that big a deal”. And so my dear girl put it all in perspective, autism played a serious second fiddle to contact dermatitis caused by a cobalt allergy. Autism was “no big deal” to her. I remind myself of this constantly.

Over the course of the past few months, I’ve seen her become even more protective of him (and in turn have seen him bond to her in a new way, which deserves a separate post). In rare group outings, she protects his line-ups, takes his cars back from curious toddlers, speaks for him on a regular basis. When April 2^nd rolled around, I told her we were all wearing blue to support Kellen and other kids with autism. She told everyone she knew. She remembers the word, she uses it without fear, without any negative connotation, without pity. She has power over that word. Which is interesting, because in the brief story I’m about to tell, the word becomes irrelevant.

I was sick yesterday, miserable respiratory plague that probably wouldn’t have gotten so bad if I knew how to slow down. Patrick volunteered to pick both kids up so I didn’t have to move. So he had Kellen when he picked up Larkin at preschool. We avoid this situation as much as possible because walking Kellen into a group of neurotypical, loud, messy, over-stimulated 4-5 year olds surrounded by mountains of toys is a recipe for a meltdown…which was in fact the case yesterday. Patrick was helping Larkin gather her things because Monday is dance day, so there are always extra “things” on Mondays. He put Kellen down and only a second later realized that there were boys at the table playing with Legos…lots and lots of Legos. Kellen dashed and stole one of the boys’ creations. The boy tried to get it back from Kellen…and I have to laugh a little thinking how there was only one way that fight was gonna go. Patrick quickly intervened and told the little boy he would get it back for him. So Patrick takes the Legos from Kellen, and Kellen melts down. Kicking, yelling, the type of tantrum that requires a full-body swoop-up and carriage of this squirming angry body to the car.

Well Kellen is just as big as these boys (if not bigger). The “difference” is more obvious these days.

So these boys pointed at him…

So these boys laughed at him…

And Larkin was not going to have it.

She marched up to them and as Patrick recounts “got all feisty and in their faces” and she stood up for him.

“Stop laughing at him, he’s just a little boy.”

He’s just a little boy. Not a boy with autism, not a boy with some sort of deficiency, not a boy with a disability, a handicap, not less….just a little boy.

Patrick says she stomped off but felt the need to turn around one more time as they rounded the corner to look them in the eyes, point and say “Stop it!”

I’d say I was surprised, but I’m not. To hear Patrick’s pride and see his smile when he recounted our barely 5-year old’s encounter, well, it was awesome. When they walked in the door, he said they had a “Larkin report” from school. Unfortunately, as of late, these reports have generally included not listening at naptime, not listening during lessons, not listening during well any other time of the day LOL! She told me the story, too. I went over, germs and all, and gave her a huge hug and a kiss, looked her in the eyes and told her how very proud I was of her.

Because I am. Like wear a T-shirt that says "My daughter is freaking awesome" proud. Yes you can have as many cookies as you want proud.

Because we should all be that little feisty 5-year old who will take on little boys that laugh at our brothers. Because we should get over the need to label every little thing that’s “wrong” with us. Because in every way that I feel like I fail on a daily basis…here, in that instant, I must have done something right.

The siblings will help to change this world. They will hold the power to help not only their brothers and sisters with autism, but help all of us be more inclusive, more loving, more open.

So in this month of Autism Awareness/Action, my daughter is my role model…Larkin is Kellen’s hero. I hope the world is ready for that dynamic duo...because they're smart enough, big enough, strong enough, and feisty enough to change it all.

What Do You Want?

What do you want?


So many ways to ask that simple question, so many ways to answer it.

I was recently asked this question in a similar form by someone performing an assistive technology evaluation for Kellen (basically trying to figure out what communication tool they should recommend for his IEP…Ipad, lesser technology talk pads, PECS, etc…..like I’ll let them have any opinion besides what I want…but I digress). Anyway, she was “new” to Kellen, so it was interesting to recount all my Kellenisms to her. Some of the questions included…

“How do you know what he’s feeling?”

Hahahaha! That’s funny if you know our boy, his emotions are written all over him. Happy = bouncing, huge grinning, giggling, energizer bunny of a boy; Sad = crocodile tears and a desperate run for my arms; Mad = a very specific whine, which now that it’s partnered with “No!” sounds way more neurotypical preschooler than autism; and honestly I can pinpoint tons more emotions: content, thoughtful, agitated, afraid…he’s an open book, and this is another characteristic that we put in our growing column of “things he’s not supposed to be able to do that he does anyway”.

“How does he let you know his wants?”

Using every form of communication possible. Now, here I am lucky. A year ago, ALL I wanted in this world was to just know what he wanted…and God knows I would give it to him. But now, things have changed. I proudly have to say “No” to many of his physical and verbal! requests…for fear of spoiling him ; ). We almost always know what he wants…he just can’t always have it…but such is life.

And then the biggest question from her on that day…”What would you consider successful communication?”

I’m sure many people have answered “anything” or “using the tool you’ve selected for him appropriately” or “short understandable sentences” but that’s just not me.

I told her “I want to have a conversation with my son.” And that is exactly what I want. I am grateful that we can share an awful lot right now (and more and more each day thank God), but I want to know what he’s thinking. I want to talk about science, I want to answer his “why” questions, I want to debate with him over what he think matters, I want him to talk back to me, I want him to tell me I’m wrong (which actually happened once already…), I want him to complain about his day or recount a funny story, I want him to make fun of me (because let’s face it, it’s pretty easy to do), I want him to make jokes and play pranks, I want him to take up for his sister, I want him to fight with his sister (this happens now, too, but I’d just like to experience the verbal battle…).

I want to have a conversation with my son…as soon as possible…and for every day after that until I leave this earth (and even then I’d hope that he’d keep talking to me …even if I couldn’t answer).

We constantly run around asking him “What do you want?” in order to elicit a verbal response, which we’re getting more and more. Someday…someday soon, I want him to ask me what I want.

Because I’ll tell him that I want the world for him. That I want no limitations for him. That I want every chance I can get for him. That I want love for him. That I want acceptance for him. That I want happiness for him.

You’ve always heard parents tell their children that all they want is for them to be happy. And you truly have to become a parent to understand that. Success isn’t fancy cars, big houses, expensive jewelry, lavish vacations…success is happiness. For Larkin, at this point that means an endless supply of tiaras, her own horse, and a career as a “scientist of the sea”. For Kellen, well I’ll wait until he tells me…but I’ll guess at a career as a pilot or race car driver…with a pantry full of cookies.

But in the end, I am every parent...and all I want is for them to be happy…and for them to tell me so.

Survival

It's no secret that this year has had a rough start...the reasons keep multiplying it seems...

But in the thick of the insurance debacle with Kellen, literally hours after the bottom started to drop out...I got a phone call that has changed my thinking, my mindset, my general perception.

I was in a meeting, and got some strange call on my cell phone from a number that was only 5 digits long. I answered it...and to make a long story short, was completely shocked to find out that it was a production assistant from Live with Kelly and Michael. Turns out that they were having a national competition...for Unstoppable Moms...and unbeknownst to me, my cousin Ashley had nominated me. I proceeded to tell this woman my story, which Ashley had already told them...and then later that night I got a chance to talk to Ashley. And here's the thing...as crappy as things were in that week, I told her that what she had done, had meant everything in that moment...she'd done it weeks before...but in a week when I was doubting if I could ever do enough...knowing that she had done this for me, well, it gave me strength...reminded me who I was, gave me focus. And above all it gave me a fun distraction where we joked at work about me needing to slim down the "camera added 15 pounds" LOL! In a week where everything started with "I'm sorry", this was everything I needed.

I didn't win..obviously. LOL! Even though they asked me if I could be in New York last week no one ever called again. But that doesn't change how much what Ashley did meant to me, still means to me. I saw the women nominated...some I was like "Oh please, every mom I know deals with more than that", and others, like the moms in wheelchairs that I saw, I was like "oh I need to suck it up, they truly are inspirations to what we as moms can do". I'll be honest, just tonight I looked up the mom that won. Mother of 4, dairy farmer, with the youngest child a special needs child...far more severe than us autism parents have ever had to deal with. But what struck me with her story was the lack of outreach. She was a terrific mother, a terrific worker for her family, she did everything for her special needs child...but what did she do for all of the other kids like hers, all of the other mothers like her?...and maybe she does focus on that, but the story didn't.

Regardless, the whole process caused a significant bout of self-reflection. From start to finish. I didn't have the easiest life. For those that knew me growing up, maybe it looked pretty...it was all pretty dresses and bows and perfection...but in reality it was restrictions, irrational fears, high expectations, and unbelievably suffocating. My childhood was anything but normal. Somehow I made it out ok...everything is not always as it seems. And through the support of my parents as I hit my teenage years, I got out...and became my own person. I often remark that Larkin is me, but with so much more confidence than I ever had, she's fearless...but others have said that's how they see me now...and I see that maybe that's who I was all along...

A few good friends of mine have said on separate occasions that I'm the strongest person they know. I don't think that will hold true for their lifetimes, but I'm grateful for the sentiment. The whole "unstoppable mom" process has made me reflect quite a bit on what we've been through.

I never thought we'd have a baby. Everything went wrong. I was that pathetic story that no one even wanted to acknowledge anymore because no one knew what to say. When everything finally turned the corner with Larkin, it was a running joke that we'd name her Miracle (pronounced Mira-clay). I still wasn't confident I'd ever get the chance to be a mother...but I had her, and all seemed ok, and then less than 24 hours after I was released she was back in the NICU with a terrible case of jaundice...not the "oh, she has a little jaundice" situation but a "she needs to be admitted immediately" situation. I find it ironic that she was the one that we worried about neurological impairment...she's a freaking genius...not that Kellen isn't...

So imagine...4 years of trying for a baby, then sitting in a NICU praying for all to be ok. Going home to happiness, and then oops...3 months later, you're actually pregnant on your own.

I've yet to meet anyone with kids closer together than mine...seriously if you know someone, send them my way because I would love to meet them. They were already going to be close together. Kellen was conceived 11 weeks post-partum...the first and only time we...well, you know...it was Patrick's first ever Father's Day...and what a gift! And then he shows up 5 weeks early. I'll never forget that morning...blood, fear, and perfect calm. I had already called the doctor before Patrick knew what was going on. I'd later learn I was in full blown labor all the way downtown, but kept calm and in denial telling myself and Patrick that this was just a preterm episode they could stop. Everytime I hear of women screaming in pain in labor, I'm like...did I miss out on something? I didn't yell, didn't panic, didn't cry, didn't throw up, I was just focused on what I needed to do for them. I never cried until they broke my water with Kellen...and told me I was having a preemie. It was a cry of frustration, not of pain. Pain is nothing...seriously, ask me about the physical pain I've been through in various aspects of life (endometrial biopsy "fishing", cutting the cerclage, marathons LOL!). Physical pain is nothing, emotional pain...I've yet to conquer that completely.

But then there we were...perfection...the infertile couple...with one girl, one boy...how? And then everying started to go not so smoothly...and then I knew...and then everyone knew. Freaking autism. Another battle, another war. Well why not...I'm so good at fighting. So yes, I acknowledge every mom that is doing the best they can for their family, for their children...but I have to push and do more. I have to ask what I can do for every mom, for every family, for every kid like Kellen. So I go to work every day. I push for research avenues that I can pursue that will matter. I write this blog so that moms like me will feel less alone. I'm not just a mom this happened to. I'm a mom that will fight and keep on fighting. I will fight insurance companies, I will fight our own companies, I will fight school districts, I will fight the government. My survival instinct takes care of our family of 4, but it will not allow me to forget every other family like ours.

So I fight, because I am able, because I am equipped, because I, with the right fight...I am strong...and unstoppable...and I thank the people that reminded me of that.

October 2012- In Pictures

I am determined to catch up to current time. So here's October in picture review.

I got to go to the CDC! I have mixed feelings about this place. They seem to send the biggest idiots ever when they need a representative to discuss autism, but this meeting was about lab stuff and those people were cool and smart ; ) I never knew it was so pretty on their campus!

And then I flew straight from Atlanta to Dallas for my little brother's wedding! Larkin was already there with my parents and the boys were still making the drive down with Annie.

Rehearsal dinner (me and Larkin, Larkin and Ashley)

Larkin and Uncle Pete

 And then the next morning Annie and I went to run a half marathon...what? We had nothing scheduled that morning!

After an afternoon of hilarity, stress, and almost missing the wedding entirely, we all managed to get there in mostly one piece. I wish we'd gotten better pictures, but the kids hung on for as long as they could. My parents really cleaned up well ; ) Either way Congrats to my little brother and his new (well 5 months ago is still newlywed status right?) bride!

And yes, that is my brother and Patrick trying to push the truck while Dad steers...and yes, this is after the wedding LOL!

So then we were home for like a week and a half and then I was off to Long Beach for my annual nerd conference....where Patrick joined me a few days later.

Our first time putting our feet in the Pacific....brrrrr!

And then we headed to Los Angeles to run the Rock and Roll Half Marathon! Best celebrity sightings: Will Farrell running the race and Deena Kastor (only runners will know this one) who I saw cruising to the finish line when I was at like mile 7 LOL!

Maybe I'll tackle November tomorrow night ; )