Big Sky Country

Cami was catching snow on her tongue.

We flew to Montana over the Easter holidays. Through the generosity of the grandparents, we were able to get together one last time before Rose requires a seat of her own. Just a few pretty views to remember.

Not Symmetric Relations

Cami & Jason were just expressing a difference of opinion on whether or not having a cold (and thus missing school tomorrow) required that she spend the day in bed. After several parlays of "yes, you will," "no, I won't" Jason asked, "Why do you have to argue with me about this?"

Her response was pure Cami, "I'm not arguing with you. You are arguing with me."

Graham's Playground

I haven't downloaded my camera in over four months. No wonder I haven't written much on the blog lately. Despite evidence to the contrary -- Cami's activity schedule turning me into a soccer mom, Jason's busy work life, etc. -- we have been on a few adventures this glorious spring. One of the best was going to Brimham Rocks in North Yorkshire. It was pretty spontaneous. A just-get-in-the-car-and-go sort of event (well, after Jason organized our picnic supplies).

Anyway, Brimham Rocks is Graham's perfect playground. It's a National Trust site where these naturally formed sandstone formations are preserved. But not in the look-and-don't-touch sense of preservation. In the climb & explore sense. And climb & explore is just what we did on a gorgeously sunny day.

I haven't got any really good shots of Graham by himself, sadly. But he loved it. His fearlessness has been tempered by self-awareness, so he would walk up to the edge of a big drop, realize that it was too high, and back up. Seeing that he's finally gaining some self-preservation skills, we felt pretty confident letting him roam (as long as we could see him). So, climbing, jumping, pretending with Cami. Happiness for the boy & happiness for his mommy.

Giggle at the Robot

Cami is wandering around pretending to be a robot. When this mood strikes, I usually end up ignoring her. I must not be the only one, because she just told Graham (in her normal voice), "Pretend that got your attention."

I Walked Home Tonight

We'd had a "Ready, Steady, Cook" meets "MasterChef" activity for the Young Women. Two teams of girls had 40 minutes to prepare a three-course meal using random ingredients. I'm really impressed with the pretty & tasty combos they came up with. I'm glad I was a judge.

When I got outside (about 9:20), it was still bright. The sun had set, but twilight looked like a sunny winter day. So I walked the mile home.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how it is that some people just enjoy their lives. What does it take to be happy-go-lucky? I know what it isn't: it isn't limiting myself with excuses why I shouldn't. It's not even asking for myself permission to do the things I want to do. It's just doing it. Be happy-GO-lucky! Get moving. Don't wait to be happy to go. Don't wait to be lucky to go. Just GO! The luck will follow you & happiness will catch up. So tonight I took a walk.

You don't say?

Rosie just walked up to Jason & declared, "I want a banana, I said."

I'm Just Explaining -- Nobody Freak Out

Some days I feel like I'm wearing a "Hello, My Name is. . . " stickers, only instead of "Starr" filling the space it reads "exhausted, overwhelmed, incompetent mother of an austistic child." Yesterday was one of those.

Jason and I had a meeting with the school staff who oversee his development, the psychologist who routinely meets with us, & two new people who specialize in supporting schools who have students with autism. In the meeting, the head teacher (the British equivalent of a principle) pointed out several times that being the parent of three active children, especially one that has special needs, is a daunting job and that I often appear "worn out." Since Graham's tendency to run away as we walk to & from school was also a big part of the discussion, I have spent the last 24 hours feeling like the imaginary name tag on my chest is the size of a billboard.

As we sat in that meeting, the thought came, "This is your job." That thought makes me so sad. It makes me feel like I'm the depressed, bored, drone who will be stuck in the same dead-end situation until the grave -- and the world knows it.

I don't know how to turn it around. I can't snap my fingers & have Graham's condition change, I can't make Cami & Rose be perfect, self-caring children, & I can't return to the bright times in my college life when it felt like I could conquer the world. I just don't know how to give my family everything they need. And I don't know if my job will ever allow two weeks vacation.