It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Gets Covered in Chapstick.

Hello there, my Lovelies. I hope life is going smoothly out there for you. If it's not, maybe a good story to take your mind off of it will help. Remember how I mentioned that we've been dealing with the "Cold-Beast"? It seems that the Princess is cursed with the same curse I am when it comes to these things. When she becomes a mouth-breather, she gets some very unfortunately painful looking chapped lips.

Not an issue for most. The thing with her is that her biggest red-zone is her mouth. Nothing, and I do mean NOTHING that she doesn't want in her mouth goes in without a fight. This is including, but not limited to: food, toothbrush and under no circumstances, medicine. So as you can imagine, anything that comes towards her mouth, and whomever is holding it has become her Mortal Enemy Number One.  While she loves her mommy, let's just say I'm usually on that particular list. I'm OK with that.

This particular day, after watching her lick her lips for the umpteenth time, I decided I needed to take action against these vicious chapped lips. Chapstick is my go-to, of course, but we don't have one for her. Yet. Armed with Chapstick in hand, I set out to do my task, and ensure my name on that daily list. She saw me coming. She's smart, don't ever let her fool you. She knows what's up. And she ran to her closet to hide. Not one to be discouraged that easily, I pursued relentlessly.

With her in her closet, and me standing and blocking her way to freedom, I knew this was my time. I came from above-- Blocked. From the right side-- Blocked again. Did you hear that? That banshee scream? That's my name going on her list. From the left side-- Nope.  I'm starting to come to the realization that I am on the losing end of this battle, and if I do not come up with something soon, I will surely walk away defeated; feeling guilty that her poor little lips are so uncomfortable. I can't have that.

With new found conviction, I re-evaluated my course. Confronting directly was getting me nowhere fast. The Princess was breaking me down, and she knew it. Suddenly, I was struck with a plan so brilliant, how could I not have thought of it before? Right there in my face even!

I sat back, proceeded to cake my lips with Chapstick-- I like Chapstick, don't get me wrong, but that much just feels gross.-- and the kissey monster emerged! Giving her the biggest closed mouthed kiss I could muster, I caked that Chapstick right on her. She laughed, she giggled! There was a huge smile on her face! I won! Her lips are moisturized. My biggest goal was fulfilled.

I wont say that the rest of our day was filled with rainbows and sunshine, as most days do at least have one
or two more bumps in the road. But, with my new ego boost,-- Can you blame me?-- and the Princess' comforted lips, we were a lot better off than we started. And that, my Lovelies, is the story of how our kissey monster game was created.

I am Supermom

Hello, my Lovelies! Today, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Come closer. Just a bit closer... Too close. Are you ready for my secret? OK then. My secret is: I am Supermom. My powers are the ability to know what has been gotten into and by whom with a single sound; The ability to smell a poopy diaper from two rooms away, and of course the power to kiss a boo-boo and make it better. My greatest power of all is the ability to think outside of the box.

I will dazzle, amaze and mystify! Just when you think I've thought of everything, *BAM!* I think of something completely unexpected, that will knock your socks off and rock your world. Take the "Magnet" experience for one. It all happened so quickly, that my friend who was watching had no clue what was going on. I still hear about how my figuring out that the Princess wanted a magnet was just such an amazing feat that they themselves would have never figured it out.

To me, this is everyday life. On a daily basis, at least twice per day, we have mini-meltdowns like that one. I call them 'mini' because if caught quickly enough, they turn into nothing more than a whine and a giggle and running away. If I can't figure out what is behind the tears in a timely enough fashion, it turns into something much bigger. It could be anything. When I say anything, I mean ANYTHING. She has a fascination with two's. One for each hand. Now what goes in the hands, that varies. Some days, it's a wooden block in each hand. Others, it's magnets. My favorite is a wooden block in one hand and a teething binky in the other. She's hooked on that combination, as of lately.

The point here is that I know my Princess. I follow her eye line when she's obviously upset and looking for something. In the middle of the night, if she's freaking out and looking for something in the dark, I run a mental checklist of everything she attached herself to that day, so I can help her find it. Sometimes I am successful. Other times, it seems that I am bringing her things just to bring her something and proving to her and myself that I am bumbling through it like any other parent.

I've got one more secret for you though. You have super powers too. I truly think each of us as parents, guardians, mentors and friends to children both with and without special needs all have super powers. We each and every one of us knows our perspective Princes and Princesses. We know their likes and their dislikes; we know what their attached to these days, and what was so five days ago. Some of them can tell you what they want, and you can still read between the lines to what that really means. Others, like my Princess, cannot communicate verbally, so it's up to us Super Parents to figure it out. Can you do me a favor? Don't tell my secret. I won't tell yours.

Not MY Child

Hi there, my Lovelies. Today, I thought I'd go back to the day that the word "autism" was first introduced to our family. It's one of those things, you hear of it happening to other children, to other families; but you never in your wildest dreams imagine it could ever happen to YOUR child.

That was my perception. Why wouldn't it be? My princess was my first child, I had nothing to reference to. Sure, we had noticed delays. Nothing at the time that struck me immediately as an issue. Every child grows and develops at their own pace. I still believe that. It wasn't until her 2 year well child check that my world came crashing around me.

The Prince was still a newborn and staying with my In-laws when we went to that doctors appointment. Everything started off normal. Height-- Hey, she's not standing on her own yet, can we get her height a different way?-- weight, blood pressure-- That was a new one to me!-- the usual. We were doing great! Then, the doctor came in. As she started asking me the typical questions-- "Is she walking?", "Is she feeding herself?", "Does she say (X) amount of words?"-- my stomach began to get a sinking feeling. As I replied to each of them, one by one, "No." that sinking feeling got worse. Her doctor then produced a single sheet of paper. At the top of the page I read, 'Autism Screening Checklist'. "This will be fine," I thought, as the doctor told me that she'd give me a few minutes alone to answer each of these questions to the best of my ability.

The directions were easy enough to figure out. Check 'yes', if you witness your child doing this often. Check 'Sometimes' for sometimes, etc. I go down the list, giving each question some thought, making sure that these were the truest answers to the question. Once completed, I look down the check-boxes and assure myself, "See, look at all the times I could mark 'yes'. It's fine." Finding a new calm in my self-assurance, I wait for the doctor's return. When she does, I watch her slowly calculate the score, I realize that I am analyzing her every facial tick. Which is funny, because I am certainly not all that skilled with the fine art of body language. But today, today I will try.

What seems like hours later-- Which translates to mere minutes-- she looks up at me and says, "She's a borderline pass/fail." What does that mean? Borderline? So I ask. The doctor takes her time explaining that while it could mean nothing at all, it does mean there's concern. There's a chance. I gather up as much information as I can. Ask as many questions as I can think of-- Which really aren't that many, I mean, this wasn't supposed to happen to MY child!-- I find out what the next step in the process is, all the while feeling like I am a floodgate ready to burst with the tears that I am trying so hard to hold back. I made it through.

The drive back to my in-laws to pick up the Prince was excruciating. I kept trying to hold a stoic face. Tried so desperately to hide my tears from the Princess. After all, I know she had to have picked up on some of what happened. I did not want her to think that Mommy was upset at all by her, after all she is still my beautiful little girl. The one I held in my arms the day she was born. The girl that when she smiled, it was the most genuinely beautiful smile I had ever seen. Were we really facing something that she may have to live with for the rest of her life?

I did hold it together all the way back. I held it together while I got her out of the car. I held it together when I got her set up to play for a bit while I spoke with my Mother In-Law. I held it together all the way through until I said that word. "Autism." It's a powerful word. It broke the floodgates. As the tears started pouring, and my Mother In-Law hugged me, I recapped the entire experience of that fateful doctor's visit.

I came to a realization then. While it is hard to keep a hold of sometimes, and I do struggle to focus on this, I realized again, that she was still the same little girl I held in my arms the day she was born. She's still the same little lady who stole my heart, and continues to hold it captive. She will always be my little girl. No matter what. She'll always be my Princess. We have a long road ahead of us, and certainly not an easy one. But with strength, support, and patience, we can walk this long, bumpy road together. As a family. As one.

What's in a Name?

Hello, my lovelies. Welcome to the land of Magnets & Applesauce. A world where nothing makes sense, yet everything does. A world where outside of the box thinking is the only way of thinking. A world of magic and rainbows and ponies. OK, not really. Truly, it's the world of one Stay at Home Mommy-Queen of two beauties. My Princess (3), and my Prince (1.5).  They are the loves of my life; and My Princess has autism, while my Prince is typically developing.

I know a lot of you out there are thinking "Why, 'Magnets & Applesauce'?" To answer that in the most simplistic and basic way: because it's so random that it describes my life to the letter. While that's an accurate statement, it's a very boring one. Definitely not worth a full post on a blog. So instead, let me tell you the story of how "Magnets & Applesauce" came to be.

We've been battling the thing that I call a "Cold-beast"  for quite some time in my household. The reason I named it such is because every time we think we've gotten rid of it-- for weeks, I might add-- it came back with a beastly vengeance. This was my third battle with the dreaded cold-beast; my son was stuffy and a snot factory, that of course leaves chewing of any kind in the dust-- with the exception of sleeves, bottles and of course, Mommy.-- so he had been on a soft food diet for a couple of days. This particular breakfast time was applesauce. So far, it had been a fairly successful mealtime. By successful, I mean messy as all get out and it was everywhere, but at least he was eating. Between each bite, at any sign of a runny nose, he was wiping his nose with his sleeve. Thus getting applesauce all over himself. Apparently, at that moment, his eyes became itchy and watery. Guess what happens when you wipe your applesauce covered face then move to your eyes? Yep. Applesauce travels. And it burns. After several tear-filled minutes, disaster averted. Our eyes are applesauce free!

Fast forward, if you will, to a few minutes later. Applesauce crisis resolved, and little dude is happily playing in the living room. In comes my little lady, who makes it clear in her own way that she wants a cup of milk. Grab her sippy cup-- you know, the only one she will drink from-- wash it, and proceed to make her drink. As I put the milk away, she's standing on the other side of the baby gate, which happens to be next to the refrigerator. When I close the door, out of nowhere, she runs away crying like I have just taken her favorite lovey from her. Seeing as how she is non-verbal, I have to quickly asses the situation to figure out what could have caused this eruption; preferably before it turns into a meltdown of epic proportions. I notice in one hand she is holding a magnet. Duh! Why didn't I realize? I re-open the refrigerator door wide enough she can reach. I watch as she runs up smiling, while she makes her selection, I say "I'm sorry I closed the door too soon." She runs off, excited about the results of her "shopping trip"-- as we fondly call these moments in our home-- to play.

Of course all of this happens within the same 5 minute span. With a witness, no less! Our friend, who had been watching up until this point-- and trying to contain the giggles-- just burst out laughing. I lost all of my composure at that moment, and couldn't help but giggle a bit myself. I look at my friend once the laughter had subsided, and said "My children..."
"Magnets and applesauce," he replied.
Well, that has a ring to it, now doesn't it? Magnets and Applesauce...

Welcome, My Lovelies!

Well hello there, Lovelies. Happy St. Patricks Day! Welcome to my new adventure. I've decided to share my experiences with all of you. My world is almost never boring-- at least in my eyes-- it's filled with ups and downs; and lots of random and funny moments in between. I hope you enjoy.

As parents, we are used to celebrating milestones, both big and small. "She's giving me hugs and kisses!",  "He's chewing his food for the very first time!",  "Wow! She's running!",  "Oh my goodness! He's playing WITH that other child!". I'm sure you recognize these statements, and more. You've said at least one of them. All very brag-worthy accomplishments. Now imagine saying all of these things; and your child is 3. Does that make them any less valid, or brag-worthy? Not at all.

I am a Stay at Home Mom of two beautiful children. My youngest, my son 1.5 years old. My oldest, my daughter is 3 years old. She has autism. What is autism? According to Merriam Webster (.com): "Autism (Noun)--  a developmental disorder that appears by age three and that is variable in expression but is recognized and diagnosed by impairment of the ability to form normal social relationships, by impairment of the ability to communicate with others, and by stereotyped behavior patterns especially as exhibited by a preoccupation with repetitive activities of restricted focus rather than with flexible and imaginative ones."  If you ask me, however, I would tell you that it means that my daughter has a different perspective of the world around her than I do. She sees things differently. Feels things differently. So on and so forth.

I spend a lot of my time trying to incorporate myself into her world, to somehow incorporate my world into hers. She marches to her own drummer, that's one thing that is always apparent.  She's the silliest, most playful happy little lady I have ever set my eyes on-- though I may be biased-- she loves to run around, spin in circles until I am dizzy, and laugh. There's another part to her world, though. It can become hostile. Fast. One minute she can be playing happily, giggling and singing; when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, her world comes crashing down around her! She's non-verbal, so these are the instances where I have to think on my feet to try to figure out what it is that has her crumbling to little pieces. Questions pop into my mind: "When did I last change her? Could it be a soiled diaper?", "Did she lose a toy?", "Is she hungry?". The list can go on for a while. I always feel a little triumphant when I'm able to figure it out.

There are only two things I know for certain. One: She is the picture perfect example of a daddy's girl. Two: She loves her little brother more than I ever think she needs to say. And he loves her just as fiercely. So far, my son is a typically developing toddler-- When did this happen?!-- and he's catching up quickly. They have their own language, which constantly keeps Mommy guessing. Shockingly, I think this is what it's intended for. I also think they purposefully decide that they're going to team up to see who can make me pull out my hair the fastest. There's been no definitive winner-- Yet-- but it seems to be a pretty fun process. For them.

So there's a little about us in a nutshell. I suppose in a way, this is a very therapeutic process for  me. I know my brain is already swimming with so many things to tell you! But all of this for a different day. I hope you enjoy the randomness that is our world as I embark on opening up and sharing it. And if, just IF I can maybe let just one person out there know that they are not alone, and I can help somehow; then that is just the perfect icing on top of the Magnets & Applesauce.