Acceptance. Love. Just Be.

I've been surfing out in the blogosphere, finding new corners not yet explored and curling up with others already well-known. What an amazing thing, this blogging community, with its ability to lift me at times when I'm feeling sad or just worn out. I especially appreciate Susan's post because sometimes I don't see the forest for the trees, you know? I've never been one to obsess on a cure, whatever that is, but I am awfully focused on getting the boys as much therapy and programs that I can. My sole purpose has been to help them be in our world as much as they're able. I am reminded, though, that there is just so much to enjoy in the here and now.

Lately, and by that I mean ever since A.F. (after the fire), we have seen such extremes in John. He is communicating more and more with us and the chief word he has mastered is NO. He is very clear on what he wants these days.

1. DRAWING — Dragging out a Doodle board, he brings it over and says "PO!" which is his directive for us to draw pictures of his beloved red Teletubby. After we've rendered it to his satisfaction, he erases it fast, and says "ELMO!" If the person drawing is Autism Twins Dad, then they move swiftly through the entire Sesame Street cast and begin again. If it happens to be the more artistically challenged me, then John will study my version of Po with a sad look on his face and pronounce "Mouse." One morning, he said "DRAW PO!" When I looked at him in shock he tried "I WANT PO!" (sadly, he immediately got my mouse, I wasn't about to tarry)

2. SWIMMING — Pulling me to the bathroom where his still-wet bathing suit hangs, he motions for me to pick him up, yanks his suit off the hook, and says "SWIM." That boys loves the water. I know this is not uncommon for kids with autism — he is transformed the minute his toe gets wet. Right now we have him in a life vest and he kicks merrily along, but I would love to find him lessons and a place where I can make swimming a year-round event. The things he's said in the water — like "MORE!" after we've counted down together "THREE. TWO. ONE. BLAST OFF!" and I've thrown him in the air.

3. SINGING — This is the most popular DVD in the (so not) palatial inn. John surprised us tonight by singing along to this old fave. His pronunciation is not the clearest, but the melody was unmistakable.

Sing, sing a song
Sing out loud
Sing out strong
Sing of good things not bad
Sing of happy not sad.

Sing, sing a song
Make it simple to last
Your whole life long
Don't worry that it's not
Good enough for anyone
Else to hear
Just sing, sing a song.

When Life is About Breakfast

Well, hello. Remember us? So many things to say, so little energy. We are still living in a hotel, 21 days since a fire destroyed two bedrooms and a roof. Still waiting for work to begin on our house and all we've heard in response to When can we move back in? is Two? Three months? Maybe more.

Nearly one month gone and it's looking pretty gloomy.

I will say that I no longer feel that home insurance is a useless, overpriced bite out of our wallet. No, not anymore. I don't know what we'd do if we had to pay $300 a night, ourselves, to stay in this (so not) palatial inn.

As you can imagine, it's been hard on the boys.

We've been in three different units now, thanks to the complaints of people below us. It's the noise, they say. Sounds like jumping. Yes, my children jump. I never realized how much until I tried to restrain two excited, jumping, autistic boys — who cares if it's 5:30 a.m.! Suffer with me. Well, now we're on a ground floor and so far so good.

(We did have a brief one-week respite from the (so not) palatial inn when we went on our beach vacation. That is a whole other post involving sensory overload. Think sand. Think waves. Imagine.)

Our insurance company is trying to find us a house or town home to move into for the duration. So far not so good.

We've kept up our routines: school, camp, ABA, a mad dash of commuting. It's been hardest at bed time because they will not let me leave them as long as they're awake. Sam gets teary and asks about the house and Are the people still fixing it? I used to feel a bit smug about how easily my kids went to sleep. Bath, book, lights out, no complaints. And it kept my sanity knowing that at 7:30 I would have that down time we all need.

Instead, that down time is disappearing as bed time turns into a Supernanny episode. (It's not working!) I don't expect it to get better any time soon and you know what? I've been a little cranky about it. I think I'd be less cranky if they slept through the night but they play musical beds or something, each night alternating with a wailing sob right around 3:30. If we're lucky, we get whoever back to sleep while slumped on the sofa. Other nights we're up for the day.

I know that this is traumatic for them, I know. But it's like having newborns all over again. I've just realized that I've been awake since 4 a.m. Yawn. But hey — did I mention the breakfasts here at the (so not) palatial inn? Every morning: eggs, sausage, fruit, french toast. Never underestimate the power of a free breakfast. It almost compensates for this silly hotel not having Bravo so that I can watch Season 5 of Project Runway.

Almost.

Dear God or Fate or Crazy Luck

Thank you for watching out for our family by first sending that fierce thunderstorm through here a few weeks ago. It uprooted two beautiful old trees in our backyard and really bummed me out at the time. They were so tall and majestic — taller than our house. The apple tree, especially, was lovely in spring with its dress of pink and white blossoms. Not only that, they provided a nice privacy fence of sorts by blocking our neighbor's yard from view.

Two nights ago our house caught on fire. We are so grateful that the view was clear and that our neighbors were able to see the flames shooting out from the roof. I guess that's why they jumped the fence and pounded on our back door.

They say it was an attic fire — an old attic fan shorted, was fried — a fan right above my babies' room. They think the fan was sucking out all of the smoke even as the fire raged, so our smoke alarms didn't even go off.

We got out of there just in time.

The first 24 hours were rough, but now we're settled in to a nice hotel — the kind that has a kitchenette and continental breakfasts. Sam asks about going home all the time. We say, The house has a boo boo and is being fixed and We've started our vacation early. He thinks about this and says, Yes! We'll stay at our vacation home!

John has discovered clothing tags. We've been doing a lot of shopping since most of our clothes were destroyed. He pulls them off (sometimes before they've been paid for) and lines them up. Today he said Rectangle. Square. and handed two to me. He is stimming a lot right now, but I guess I'm not surprised. It's been hardest for him. Tomorrow we will resume his ABA sessions here at the hotel and ESY starts on Monday. We're hopeful that a routine he knows will help.

I don't know what I believe most of the time, but I've been thinking about it constantly over the last 48 hours. Everything happens for a reason. Angels looking out for us. We are so very lucky.

I take a breath. I take another. It's all I can do right now.

Wordless Wednesday