Dearest Margaret,
Steph & I planned to finally get together this morning and do some yoga at her house, as Kristian is out of town.  Here’s how it went:
Text from Steph at 5:30 a.m. stating all three kids were already awake and would I please come anyway for moral support.
I arrive at 6 a.m.  Steph nearly in tears, Crew, having been up since 4:30, happily playing and Sadie almost back asleep on the sofa.
From 6-6:30 we catch up.  We discuss getting in some sun salutations, only to be interrupted by a dramatic solo appearance of the mouse, of which Steph is deathly-about-to-hyper-ventilate afraid, who has decided to take up residence in her living room vent.
From 6:30 – 7:30 we hunt and chase the mouse around her living room, only to find our valiant efforts unsuccessful.
At 7:15 we make plans to send Dan over later to deal with crafty rodent.
At 7:30 I need to leave.  I abandon best friend to her tired children and new housemate.
Does the intention of yoga count??  :-)  Ah, this IS the stuff of life, isn’t it?  What a riot.
Namaste,
Darcie

I write from the top of a mountain ridge in North Carolina, home to my in-laws, near Boone and the Blue Ridge Parkway.  We are spending some extended time here this summer to enjoy the dry mountain air and local attractions.  People pay thousands of dollars to vacation here, and we have the good fortune to be lovingly welcomed at the cost of our gas to travel.

Dan can work, I can do yoga at the local studio and have my fill of Expresso News lattes and health food markets, while the boys get to run in and out willy-nilly, watching bird feeders, playing with their dad’s old toys, swimming at the local pool, frolicking in the creek and all sorts of other mountain goodness.

In the few months since my last post we all have transformed a bit, moving on through life quite intentionally, excruciatingly slow at times and at warp speed the rest.  I pause often to look around and assess the situation – are we okay?  Who needs attention?  What do I have available to give?  Are all our souls in shape?  What is making me crazy and how do I make it easier?

Dan continues to travel every other week to Atlanta.  The time there with colleagues refuels him with the much needed energy to persevere through his solo act when he is in Minneapolis.  He needs his bicycle more often than he gets it, and performs the balancing act of daddy, husband and friend with passionate intensity.  Just don’t ask him to fix anything around the house.  We order up Papoo for that and we all stay sane.

Elliot had a successful year of 1st grade, making his teacher and us infinitely proud.  It concluded with a rather crippling spell of seasonal-autistic-sensory-system-failure anxiety, leaving him, his teachers and us rather exhausted with worry.  However, he rallied two weeks later with an awesome week of camp at school, giving himself exactly the boost he needed, not to mention my mommy heart.  In the spring he amazed us all with his role in his class play, and by the end of the year he was in the thick of it socially, making friends and departing his role as the observer on the periphery.  Most recently he has declared “no more haircuts” and is sporting some curly long locks in his effort to look like a rock -n- roll singer.  He is the epitome of quirky-cool.

Quinton turned turned five and immediately stopped needing me.  He wakes in the morning seeking out play with his brother instead of mommy cuddles, has constant play date requests with wonderful children, and makes up sayings like “it’s thin as a wink, Mommy!” with startling cleverness.  No more preschool for our house…..off to kindergarten in the fall with his favorite mate, Tristan.  His latest episode of “grown-upness” aired this morning with a request.  ”Mommy….I want to try going to sleep tonight without a cuddle.”  ”But I think I will miss our cuddle, Q-Q, even your big brother has a cuddle at bedtime, it’s okay, you know.”  ”I know Mommy, but I want to try.  You’ll be okay.”  Sigh.  I must allow.  It won’t really settle in as a new routine, will it?

As for me, a new phase begins.  I’ve been looking into part-time work and started studies to become a Waldorf teacher.  A year of digestion and sitting with it has left me eagerly looking forward, scared and committed to a new turn in the road.  For the first time ever I am content with the travels, not knowing precisely what the arrival point will bring.  I trust my gut, intuition and community of resources.  A messy balancing act I call living “inside the fire with my sleeves rolled up.”  But occasionally there is the elegant and simple moment of balanced family bliss – the Queen Anne’s Lace.  Something to be noticed and more importantly, relished.

Dan’s been traveling for work….a lot.  Well, 50% of the time anyway, which for some is light but for us is more than the usual.   This will continue on through March, so I’ve been doing a healthy amount of single parenting.  We’re doing okay with it, I think.  I basically turn into Drill Sargeant Mommy while he’s away, and run a pretty darn tight ship.  This is mostly successful, but Drill Sargeant Mommy is just really not so fun, so we are all delighted with the return of Fun Daddy’s energy, which then of course brings along with it the welcome return of Relaxed Mommy.

While we were in D.C. a few weeks ago the boys’ cousin Kevin (pictured above with Cousin Emily and the boys) passed along all his Captain Underpants books to Elliot.  These books are quite hysterical to the young boy breed, as they are potent with bathroom humor.  Highly energized stories of how Captain Underpants, in his uniform of cape and well….underpants, battles interesting and deeply developed characters such as Wedgie Woman and the hairy toilet with monster eyes and jaws.  Elliot and Quinton find these books extremely titillating, and we now have a house bursting at the seams with bathroom talk.  Yes, blog friends, come on over for rich conversation on vomit, diarrhea, farting, wedgies, peeing on socks (apparently this a wonderful method for warming your feet) and lets not forget the plain old-fashioned poop.

My mother-in-law Arlene told me once that there is nothing sillier than a 7 year old boy.  I’m here to testify that this is the truest statement she’s ever made.

Yes I am, Quinton.  Maybe forever.

~Rudolf Steiner

Thank you, lovely and beautiful Steph, for time on the mat and being present with me.  Om shanti, namaste.

Hmm.  Just when I thought rock-n-roll church was a good thing.

Elliot enjoys Leo’s “We scored!” elation

Originally uploaded by dsmithsteeves

Raising children puts you on a perpetual mountainous ride of elation and heartbreak. Dan & I have said that the flux between these two emotions which cycles every week or two with the “typical” child happens on a daily basis for us and Elliot. The lows are a bit lower, and the highs a bit higher. Today was no exception, in fact the ride was on and we were in the fast car.

Today we had a friend’s birthday party for school. Elliot’s dearest friend, in fact. Anyone who knows anything about the autism spectrum can easily imagine why a child’s birthday party could be a nightmare for a quirky kiddo. Heightened emotions, sensory blasting, social chaos and the stress of anticipation name only a few reasons.

The day started with ice-skating. My boys’ third day on the ice. And there were hockey sticks and pucks involved. I felt my gut tighten. Elliot stunned me. He grabbed a stick and off he went, chasing his friends. He was so committed to being socially involved with his friends that he worked with heart-wrenching effort at skating to keep up with the faster few. I couldn’t believe his progress, and was elated with his connectedness to his friends (Arrive at Mount Elation Peak 1). However, there were two rounds of sad quiet tears in the first 20 minutes as he realized he couldn’t keep up like he wanted (Plunge to Heartbreak Valley 1). I kept encouraging him, and I’ll be darned if he just didn’t keep himself going……all the way through to game’s end, participating in the “huddles” and enjoying the thrill of the single goal the kids scored against the grown-ups (Climb to Elation Peak 2).

I forgot to mention that Elliot went into this day fighting off a cold. For most children this is a drag but manageable. Elliot can manage it, but it requires a decent amount of energy to just physically regulate his sensory system. (Mini-break to Sea of Stress)

Off we go then to the rec center for pizza, cake and presents. Pizza is opened, all with tomato sauce. Elliot doesn’t really care for tomato sauce. And he’s been such a good eater lately (the boy does curry and mussels for heaven’s sake!) that we get him another kind of sauce when we order pizza. More quiet tears and anxiety over lunch. On a typical day he would ride this out much better, but not today. (Ride back on down this time to Valley of Exasperation). He pulls it together fairly quickly, decides to not try pizza, and sits down with his friends and drinks his apple cider.

After lunch the boys all run around and play. It’s encouraging to see Elliot enjoying himself again, his friends enjoying him and all their silliness – except for the one moment where we caught them all trying to stick their heads in the rubbish bin. (Moving back on up to the Peak of Parenting Warm Fuzzies).

Presents are opened, and then the the announcement is made that the “thank you presents” for the guests will be coming in the mail this week. Now I do not have an ungrateful, indulged child. But this sent Elliot over the edge.  And while all the children were a bit disappointed, Elliot’s poor brain could not regulate it at this point at all. (Crash to Valley of Despair and Heartbreak and end ride there for the day).

We ended up going outside for a walk, and hanging out the two of us until it was time to go. He just couldn’t recover. No tantrum – just an overwhelming disappointment and inability to cope. And while I could understand where this was coming from and be compassionate, I certainly couldn’t tolerate the behavior.  I mean, seriously, you can’t cry and be upset over not getting a present at another person’s party.

Dan took the Q-Man to rock-n-roll church later (a topic for another time), and Elliot & I had a quiet evening together of reading, music and reflecting on the day. Despite the intensity of his day, he’s eager to return to the hockey ice next weekend. We wrote his friend a brief note for tomorrow, apologizing for his sad end to the party and thanking him for a fun time and the invitation. We talked about autism again and how sometimes it makes things extra hard. I hoped to help him understand his day without feeling bad about himself. I think together we succeeded.

I would give anything for Elliot’s life to be a bit easier for him, but I’m not complaining. I’ve got an awesome healthy boy. Two of them, in fact. Make that three if you throw in the 40 year old. Autism can try to beat me up any old day. But maybe a slower car next time, please.

The holidays were cozy-good, initiated by magical Wisconsin Christmas snow and ending with a thud with Quinton’s ear infection.  But we are forgetting that portion as all the time in between was lovely, lovely, lovely.  We relaxed at Grammy & Papoo’s, had movie outings with cousins, and enjoyed more than a few jolly moments at the Mickelson House of Merriment (my new name for my sister’s house).

A new year has arrived, with all the uncertainty of the current economic conditions but also with the memories of an incredible 2008.  I have friends to treasure on both sides of the Atlantic, a school in which I am thrilled each day to send my children, good health and a family bursting with love.  I have watched my autistic son work through the anxiety-ridden beginnings of 1st grade and arrive to the middle of his journey there with friends, joy, personal insight and confidence.  I have watched my four year old exert his independence with astonishing energy, charm and success.  Their latest accomplishment – ice skating.  I was filled with that “taking first steps” mommy pride as I watched them both work, work, work for a whole hour on their new skates.  I sat back with quiet tears and admired Elliot as he skated off with his friend Leo, chatting and playing games while he fell, got up, fell and got up again.

I wonder with growing curiosity what 2009 will bring.  Will I start working outside the home?  Will Steph & I become six-days-a-week yoga practitioners?  Will Quinton finally get stitches?  Will Dan find the adventure he craves?  Will Elliot write his own musical?  We’ll see……yes, we’ll see.