Salon

Today Amy had a hair appointment with Russ. Russ is the crazy tattooed man responsible for Amy's super cute and stylish haircuts. We figured as long as Amy was getting a cut we would see if Russ would trim Lila too. She's has darling hair (kind if auburn and curly) but lately it has been looking a little raggedy.

I was a little worried. We were in sheeshy Kroma salon in the uber-hip Pearl District in downtown Portland. And I was trying to get my toddler not to get cracker crumbs on the floor. But she did great. She started out with a little dancing and singing.

We were understandably nervous. Jonah and Noel's first haircuts were always really tough. I remember one haircut of Noel's where the stylists hands were literally bleeding because he was thrashing so much that she cut her hands in several places. Needless to say, we left a big tip and never went back. But Lila did awesome. She sat very still and seemed to think it was pretty awesome to sit in a chair and look at herself in the mirror. 

He didn't do much - just sort of squared off the bangs and cut some layering in the rest of it so it would lay (lie? help me out here.) on her head. I love the idea of Lila with layers.

Here is the after:

Pretty cute!

Also, I would like to point out that in my head it is officially spring, even though we haven't even cracked 60 degrees yet. The kids are in short sleeved shirts even if it is 42 degrees outside!

An Update

It's been awhile, right? I've relished in Josh's recent motivation to blog more, and was grateful that it took the pressure off of me. Because, quite honestly, I wasn't feeling it. Maybe it's the cold, rainy weather with no foreseeable hope of spring. Maybe it's my frustration and disappointment with myself as a mother. Maybe it's because I've been involved in other, much more worthy endeavors (though this one is entirely untrue). Regardless of the reason, I've really wanted to update everyone on what's been going on in our lives. Since this blog caused such an amazing outpouring of love and support from family and friends, I didn't want any of those people to think that their words and love were overlooked or taken for granted. I received great advice, was led to books and resources that were extremely helpful, and, most of all, felt that not only I was loved, but that my son -- my dear, sweet, trying son -- was loved for who he is, without any other expectation.

So here's what we've been up to, intermingled with some photos from a recent trip to McDonald's. (Yes, we go there. No, we've never caught malaria.)

Lila: Let's start with this lovely.

She continues to be the tangible manifestation of God's love for me. It's not because I love her more, even though Josh's post said so, inciting an exasperated outrage in the process. It's just God saying: "Hey! I know you've tried and tried and tried with the boys, and they continue to ignore you/run around aimlessly when given directions (oftentimes naked)/have no ability to complete any given task/wish your face would turn into a wii. Welcome to Lila. She'll learn to say 'No, thank you,' put on her clothes and shoes by herself, and say, 'I love you, momma' 3.5 years before your boys. She'll amaze you with her ability to calm your nerves, make your boys laugh, distract Noel from a meltdown, and get her dad to do anything she asks. She'll also look really stoically old-fashioned while at a recent playdate."

But, let's not forget that she's turning two. So she's simultaneously screaming louder, demanding more, and being irrationally stubborn, while also becoming all sorts of gorgeous as each day passes.

And then there's this one.

Here's the thing about Jonah. (And yes, his lips are really that big and red. There are ladies all over America who would kill for those lips.) He's maddening. And annoying. And you know why? Because it's like having a really slow-to-speak parrot, who listens quietly, and then starts spewing out the words and attitude that you've been throwing around for the last six years. And, guess what? It's too late. The damage has been done. So when he says to his brother, "Really?!?!? You thought that was a good idea to stand in front of the TV while I'm playing wii? That was really great, Noel." I bow my head in shame, send him to time-out, and hope he never starts calling me a hypocrite. Apparently, sarcasm really IS ugly!

Here in Oregon, we have a week long Spring Break. I'll pause for the collective moans of the moms out there. Also, here in Oregon, we have Spring Break at a time that will almost guarantee rainy, cold weather. But, amidst the frantic attempt to entertain my boys before they destroy everything we own, I have come to realize something about Jonah. He's awesome. He can entertain himself for hours on end, most often with a paper and pen, drawing page after page of Mario-themed tracks and characters, and then, in an agonizingly long manner, demonstrate how each 100 mile track works. He's also so sweet to his sister.

Oftentimes, after we put him to bed, Josh or I will say to the other, "I like Jonah so much." Because it's true. We love him unconditionally. But we also like him a whole lot.

And, finally, there's this one.

Here's why sometimes things suck:

1) Our attempts to get him evaluated and find the right path for therapy have been thwarted. We saw the developmental therapist, who had the personality of a bag of hair. And not that fabulous weave stuff that Tyra insists on each cycle, but dry, uninteresting, thinks-it's-smarter-than-everyone hair. When a doctor is going to diagnose and treat my son, yet won't say two words to him, other than to reprimand his every action, I don't consider this a good sign.

2) My failures as a mother are amplified to the nth degree. I'll admit it. As a mom, I'm inconsistent and oftentimes a pushover. Would I rather clean their room than fight them for an hour, even though it's their daily chore? A thousand times, yes. But I try. I've made charts, tried punishing, tried rewarding, and done a song and dance. But I have yet to find ANYTHING that motivates Noel (good or bad). I know it's the Aspergers. But it doesn't make me feel any better as I continue to avoid doing the things that I KNOW are going to make him a better person, but that will be a long, arduous process to teach.

3) Spontaneity is out the window. I hope you watch Parenthood. Not only because it's a good show, with great performances, but because their son is my son. There was a recent episode in which the father, thinking he was doing a great thing, takes his son to an amusement park instead of school. And the ride breaks down. And the meltdown ensues. And he realizes that he just can't do that. I've recently come to the sad realization that the same thing is true for our family. How badly I want to say, "Hey! If you guys are good today, we'll go swimming tomorrow!" or "Clean your room for a week and we'll go get an ice cream." My son only hears, "We'll go swimming!" and "We'll go get an ice cream." and then you can either drop everything you're doing and carry through with it, or you can suffer the consequences. And you don't want to suffer those consequences.

Here's why there's hope:

1) He's doing well in school. The teachers continue to be a God-send, going out of their way to transition him to new routines and understanding his limitations. And he just has fun. So, while I anticipate an ugly learning curve each school year, I know we can do it. He even said "Bye!" to some of his fellow preschool attendees (I won't go so far as calling them his "friends") the other day. I was pleasantly shocked.

2) We are on the waiting list for another evaluation/treatment program, that I think will be really good for him, if we can ever manage to get an an appointment. One thing I've learned over this process is that there are way few resources for such an ever increasing need. And I was led to this program by a friend from church who linked me to a local woman's blog, who I emailed, and who then told me about it. Which is a miracle in itself, is it not? Could I ever say that God is not distinctly aware of our lives and our challenges?

3) Thank you, TV. TV gets a bad rap. But thanks to some recent depictions of characters with Aspergers (like Parenthood, and Abed from Community), it helps us all understand it a little better. And not be afraid of it. Seriously, who is cooler than Abed? No one, I'd argue.

3) I have my husband. And he's the best. And we're both learning. I'm not going to sugarcoat it. Noel's Aspergers brings out the very worst in both of us. I've never, ever seen Josh get so mad. I never thought I'd say or do some of the things that I do -- the worst things at the worst moments. But we're figuring some things out. There are some days that go well, most often days that nothing out-of-the-ordinary is asked of Noel, that we manage to stick to the routine, and that no video games are involved. Then there are other days when I wake up to a meltdown after a long, sleepless night of periodic wakings from Noel, and I think, "I will not make it through this day." But I do. I could handle it without Josh, but I'm sure glad I don't have to. And it makes those retirement years that much sweeter, right?

So, there you go. As I read the post I wrote those months ago, soon after learning Noel's diagnosis, I cringe at my naivete'. The reality is much less succinct. But the general sentiment is still the same. He's my Noel. I love him. I always will. And I'll be a better person because he's in my life.

Snicker Snack

I am going to let you in on a little secret. You should buy everything that the sample person is giving out at Trader Joe's. I don't know if it ever Trader Joe's, or if it just the person at ours, but the samples are always the most delightful, tasty, unexpected things. They have Amy's number - she almost always gets whatever they are sampling.

This week, the sample lady was in full force. The sample was so good that not only did we buy it, we have gone back since to buy the stuff to make it 1000 more times. It is delicious and magical and I want to eat it every day.

(Note: If you don't have a Trader Joe's near you, first of all, I am very sorry. I suppose you could buy these same things at a regular grocery store. But why would you want to?)

Step one: Mix one bag of Shredded Cabbage with Trader Joe's Light Creamy Cilantro dressing. Notice the blurs - that is Amy's hand mixing super fast.

Step two: Open one can of black beans. Drain and rinse. Season with the juice of one lime and salt. 

Step three: serve on top of TJ's blue corn tortilla chips.

Step four: Hold me.

It is so delicious. Salty, crunchy, a bit of heat from the dressing, a bit of sour from the lime. Mmmmm...If you are feeling naughty, sprinkle a little cotija cheese on top. 

YOU'RE WELCOME!

Spring...time?

This is what most of our mornings look like. The boys wake up too early, we angrily shush them about 40 times (why do they have to run laps around the house while 60% off the house is still sleeping?) and eventually Lila wakes up (of course she sleeps in) and then comes into our room to watch Elmo or Clues Clues.

It has still been so cold here (notice the footie pajamas.) But today was the first day of Spring Break. And believe it or not, we actually saw the sun. I think it has been overcast for 85 days in a row. So even though it was still barely 50 degrees, we pretended it was spring.

Amy was uber-brave and took the kids to the zoo. If you have been reading the blog, you know that we are great fans of the Oregon Zoo. And Amy is a champion to brave it with all the kids by herself on the first day of spring break. (I got to stay home and be on the phone with dumb people that I work with.)

Lila thought it was great, but refused to ride in the stroller (she's that age, you know. The age where she gets 100% of what she wants because she screams like a terror when she doesn't.) Then she would get tired and want to be carried. 

Noel did want to ride in the stroller which meant Amy had to push it while carrying Lila. Also, Noel weighs 51.2 pounds. That's a lot.

 Jonah rode on the head of a stone lion. He's a trooper.

When they got home I was done working and Jonah wanted me to come out and jump on the trampoline with him. Since I weight more than 51.2 lbs, I usually try to avoid this activity. I will feel really bad when my jumping crushes the cheap steel frame of the trampoline. 

But I did go. I laid there and watched him jump for a while. But I have a disease. It is called the "If I spend more than 4 minutes in the yard I start getting driven mad by all the yard work that I see that I need to do." Do other Dads have this disease? As soon as I lay on my back on the trampoline, I saw the moss growing on the roof that I need to spray (which is the most annoying thing about living in Oregon.)

Summer is daunting to me. It is so nice on Saturdays in the winter that I don't have to worry about what the yard needs from me that day, and how much it will cost and how much time it will take, and how annoying it will be. I have a deep seated hatred of weed pulling left over from Saturday's spent pulling weeds at my Grandmas. Inevitably, we would pull things up that weren't weeds and then get in trouble.

I am committed to having a successful garden this year. A couple of years ago I built some garden boxes in the back yard. That may seem manly and impressive, but I got the instructions from a website called The Pioneer Woman. Somehow I don't think that is how my dad gets his how-to instructions. The first year, they did OK - nothing great. A few tomatoes. A few zucchini.

They were unimpressive. Then last year about half way through the summer, when all of our plants were spindly and anemic, I decided to buy a soil tester. Even though I had loaded the garden with organic compost at the beginning on the spring, the eternal rain her had washed all of the nutrients out of the soil. I might as well have planted the tomatoes in crumbled up Justin Beiber magazine. I bought a bunch of stuff, and doctored the soil and we saw some major improvement, but it was a bit too little too late. 

This year I thought I would get a jump start and start layering in nutrients now. All my hours watching Top Chef: All Stars has made me think that layering nutrients might work the same way Blais layers in flavors. The layered in flavors make for a more complex and nuanced dish. So maybe layered nutrients make for a more complex and...nuanced garden? Is this logical at all? Again, I don't think this is how my grandpa got gardening tips. So I grabbed one of the boxes I had bought during the great soil doctoring of last year. It was called Blood Meal. Um, gross. But it was high in nitrogen, which I guess you need if you are a plant. So I cracked the box open and sprinkled it on the dirt. And it smelled really rank. So I thought "What is in this blood meal?" 

Derived from: DRIED BLOOD!!! (emphasis mine.) Really? This is what it takes to grow a garden? Sprinkling dried blood on my plants?!? Isn't that sort of weird? Also, sorry ahead of time to any vegetarians who eat at my house. No, you don't have to eat meat. But you do have to eat tomatoes grown in a pool of blood soaked Justin Beiber magazines.

So despite all of the coming yard work (and that I sustained chemical burns and almost fell off the roof trying to kill the moss you can see running along the edge of the roof in that picture,) and despite the fact that not only do I have to pull weeds, but also sprinkle blood in the soil, I need more of those blue skies. Look how happy it makes the boys? And look how happy, and not killed, that moss looks?