In the "Can't Believe I said That" light:

3 days ago, my mother: "Here is a blanket made from Alpaca. It's from ________. Keep it in the family, if you can."
3 days ago, myself: "This thing itches! I don't want it!"
Mom: "Take it anyway!"
Me: "Um, okay..." Shuffle off to the car, still insisting there is no place for this thing and it weighs a ton, blah blah blah.
Yesterday, my mother: "I'm giving you the large wooden bread board (HUGE is more like it) that Grandpa made for me. You make breads, pizza; you'll use it."
Yesterday, myself: "WHY ARE YOU GIVING AWAY YOUR STUFF? ARE YOU DYING?!"

Yahoo! Photos!

Two boys and a gingerbread house

Ryan receiving 2nd place trophy for his pinewood derby car, cub scouts

Beautiful, yummy Valentine's Day gift from Paula

PopPop's birthday feast

Self portrait, lavender and Blue Dog

I got De Blues Tonight.

The LAST of the Big Stuff for Baby is sailing out of the house. Tons of books, toys, clothing (except for the cherished stuff from Foster Mothers, Arrival Clothing -- three beautiful outfits, each time, PLUS a formal one-year birthday Hanbok -- and other special baby clothing that has been washed and preserved in special boxes). Lovely things that we all loved and used. It's going, going, gone.

I've done well with all this General Purging.
Until Today.
Today, I sold the Mountain Buggy Urban Double.
The Cadillac of jogging, all-terrain strollers.
My lifeline to the outside world for years, with 2 toddlers 11 months apart in age.
It is detailed and shined up, even the tires have been armor-all'd, for it's next owner. A lucky young mama who is expecting her 2nd baby in a few months.
I was just downstairs, ready to wrap her up carefully in her original shipping materials and carton. And I started to cry.
I am done with babies now.
And even though I'm sure we're done (come on, I'm 53 and Ken's no Spring Chicken, either!), it's sad to turn the lock and hand over the key.

Things we DO here, even if there's something wrong with them

Stolen from Badger, et al, and modified into oblivion

There is too much we don't do, whether wrong at any level or not. It's far easier to list what we do:

We DO these things, oh yes indeedy:
3 substantial, mostly organic meals; no snacks
Beddy-bye at 9 (even the adults - we are whupped)
Water all day/night (okay, the Daddy enjoys a libation or two)
Occasional tea/coffee (not a daily occurrence)
Candlelight dinners
SUV
Mini Van
House Rabbit
Tae Kwon Do
Speech Therapy
Occupational Therapy
Orthotics
Homeopathy
PBS
Scholastic videos
BOOKS BOOKS BOOKS
Games
Outside Play
Toy Trains of every sort

And

We put the boys to bed, asleep, after reading and rocking. Alot of parents around here think we are nuts. But holding a sleeping child? Is the sweetest thing I get to do every day.

As they are, lately

Today, was a get-nuttin-done-day. Except for shuttling to birthday parties, laundry, cooking, eating Vietnamese food out by myself for lupper, picking up from birthday parties (love that they are now usually drop off, since Ryan is five. Five seems to be the magic age for drop off around here). Then we got back, and hustled to the Fall Festival (fundraiser for the school) to bid on the dozens of baskets available. They were great! I wish I would've brought my camera.

I bid on 5 baskets and won 2. I couldn't believe that some assholes were SNIPING AT A SCHOOL FUNCTION. This is not Ebay, people. This is a fund raiser for the school. You are supposed to 'play the game'. Which meant I had to run around like a crazed Border Collie at the end of bidding, as OF COURSE the baskets were all over Hell's Half Acre. Two other parents were doing the same thing at the end. One of the auction volunteers saw that I was practically careening around corners, so she decided to announce an extra 30 seconds for Table 5, and I barely made it for our Class Basket. Same thing was happening on the basket next to our class basket - it was a high-end vacation at a luxury resort, with more perks thrown in. One of the dads finally said "To Hell with This!" just as I was writing in the last bid on our class basket. I looked over and he had bid $500 OVER the last bid on his basket! I told him "I like your style!" He smiled and said "Thanks! This is a good deal... " Yeah, you Old Softie! I love good hearted folks.

A few parents and I ran around bidding on every basket that didn't have anything on it yet. Not many, but a few. At the end, other people came up and bid over us, which was a bit of a relief. Every basket sold. The children had an area that they were bidding on, too. Ken and the boys ate at the festival and played Bingo as well. While I was doing the Mad Dash around the baskets. Damn Snipers!

For those of you with school-age kids, do you attend these fundraisers? If so, what works to get people to attend? I was a bit surprised at how few people attended - but the PTA had to drop the Food and Games portion of the event due to lack of volunteers.

Tomorrow? I'm doing non-parenting stuff. Maybe some laundry. I want to cut out the aprons I'm going to make for gifts, and start assembling the teachers/therapists/Paras gift baskets. Another mom and I like to give the Christmas Gifts at Thanksgiving so the recipients can use the Christmas-themed goodies in the season. I bought a ton of candles and other non-perishable stuff at the end of last Christmas season.

But for now? It's nighty-night time. There are two little guys just about falling asleep in daddy's arms. They are all watching a Scholastic video, featuring a Scottie. 'Angus Runs Away'. New one on me.

These are the Days to Remember, for they will not last forever

I have been humming that song for 2 days straight. Billy Joel? (A 'no shit, Sherlock, if that's the case - he sure took the bullet train to Hades for awhile. But I digress... )
We watched a movie a coupla nights ago - something we rarely have time to do anymore. Plus, the media room is kaput since the projector
d
i
e
d
Ken refuses to believe it's a goner, and tries to lure me down into the basement with promises of hot
popcorn
(Oh Get your minds OUT of the gutter)
But I am much wiser than that, and insist on watching movies on our measly 32" 20-year old, busted remotes tvs. (WHY are there always three flippin' remotes involved to watch a movie these days?!)
Long story to get to the movie, which was The Big Labowski (I almost typed 'The Dude Labowski') and had some oldies but goodies songs in it. And I still laughed. Then last night we watched the Life and Death of Peter Sellers. What a Schmuck! And we love the Pink Panther movies! Will I be able to watch them anymore. Ah, probably...
Well I got off on a tangent. That's the problem with stream-of-consciousness posting. I don't save as draft and edit. I type and post. Who else does this? I also have no idea how to spell check in Blogger.
Let's see; Hallowe'en. It was Most Excellent this year. Ryan wore a costume - Lightning McQueen of Cars. Which was a step-into, hooked over his shoulders type of thing, with a hat. We only had 2 wardrobe malfunctions. It was less than 25 degrees here at 6 p.m. when Ken and the boys decided to make their foray. We had a bit of an issue finding a coat that fit under Ryan's get up. He started to ramp it up, crying and whining. I did the old "Fine! You can just stay home with me and hand out candy." which was a mean thing to suggest to a 5 year old. Ken stepped in with a remedy - he removed the guts to Ryan's 4 in 1 parka system, adding another choice to our daily coat tango, and solving the skinny-enough-yet warm problem. Meanwhile Parker is leaping foot to foot, getting overheated in his triple layers of insulation under his Clone Trooper Star Wars costume. FINALLY, they set out. And had a grand old time. Just the right amount of candy was procured.
I, unfortunately, did NOT have enough candy this year! There was a never-ending stream of bigger kids. It was almost too cold for the little ones. The best thing was alot of the parents dressed up to take the kids out, and they were more excited about their costumes than the kids were about theirs! Ken donned his knights of the indoor round table thingy he made 20 years ago. Complete with Hide Of The Naga wide belt and sword. Impressive in the fact that he could still fit into it.
So, that was Tuesday night. Wednesdays we have too much going on in the way of TaeKwonDo, therapy, playdate exchange (mornings) and game night at home. Tonight we had a party at Pump it Up, with at least 7 autistic kids out of 16 guests. It's a perfect place for autistic kids; we had them cut off the music, keep the lights on (you should have heard the screaming when they tried to do the disco thing! It was not a happy place.) We've seen alot of these little ones for 3 years now. Their accomplishments are amazing! Most are talking, communicating and getting needs met by ways other than beating on their mothers. (And yeah; it's usually the mothers doing the caretaking. A parent needs to stay home with special children. Whomever earns the most, works. Men usually make more. So the women stay home, whether they are emotionally equipped to deal with the stress, or not. But this is a whole other post.)
The opening presents part got pretty amusing. Just try to have an autistic child rip open presents, take a quick look, cast it aside and move to the next one. HA! It was hell getting each present out of JoJo's hands and moving him on to the next. And that's when the ratio of specials to typicals came into play - the typicals were on a demonic mission to Get Those Presents OPENED, and would tolerate nothing but a thorough shredding. JoJo, being one of the younger kids there, didn't have a chance. The opened present would be admired, then quickly slipped to the back of the circle where I would whisk it away. At one point, JoJo wailed "Missvicki; I want that one!" and I handed it back, to the yelps of the other children. Thinking back, it was the most enjoyable Pump It Up party I've been to, ever. 15 kids is the key. More is awful. Chaos. But, yeah, I would recommend it to other parents with SN children. 86 the music and disco option (lights off, with mirror ball and lights making crazy patterns), serve cheese pizza, cake, open presents or not and then candy bags to get the children to the car.

The chapter book reading aloud is going well. Ryan wanders off, starts to get noisy and has to be reminded that his turn is next for a picture book. Game night is a hit - we have carry out from a great place called Good Times and then play games 'til nearly bedtime. The play date tradeoffs are going well. Parker and Ryan go to 2 other children's homes on Wednesday mornings, and then those 2 boys come here on Friday mornings. 3 was an evil number, so we invited one of Ryan's buddies, Eddie, to participate in the exchange. It take more supervision as the older guys try to upperhand the younger kids. Normal stuff, nothing too mean. Plus the 2 little ones have to eat lunch before 11 so they can get on the bus at 11:20. The 2 bigger guys go at 12:45, so they have plenty of alone play time without the pesky guys.
Why am I telling you all this tripe? Because, these are the days to remember, and they will not last forever.
Soon they will be big boys, and the problems will be bigger - drugs/alcohol/driving/icky friends. I can fix almost every problem now. In the future? Not so much. So when I get pissy about my days of No Time For Me, I keep telling myself 'Ah, but these are the gravy days, my dear. Life is good. These boys of mine are beautiful, innocent and so sweet. I am their Everything, right now. Enjoy this time.'