my kneeeeeeeeee!!!!!

i'm going to write this in two parts... because the reality is, that's what will work better. one part (now) before the boys are in bed, and the second part after they are deep into dreamland. let's see how it will work.

i want to recap the day, so that at some point, when i can't remember what a typical tuesday was like in 2010, i can look back. and grimace. until i remember how unflattering my grimace-face is, and change it to "lost in thought" look.

tuesdays are kinda tricky. we have weekly tutoring meetings for all 3 boys. a meeting for lucas in the morning. and for isaac and jacob, immediately after school. i'm not good at meetings. i feel fidgety and unprepared. i want to serve snacks, but usually haven't put in the required forethought. so, i spend part of the meetings thinking of what i would have made, were i only more organized. today, i put out the rest of the salt-water taffy (enter self-loathing). salt-water taffy could never be a suitable meeting snack. and, it was in a mixing bowl. i feel ashamed.

afternoon meeting adjourned. i internally debate what to make for dinner. i conclude that my fastest option is one of the only meals that all 3 boys will eat. grilled cheese. lucas mostly loves grilled cheese. except, on the odd day, that he completely rejects them. isaac and jacob do not like them, but have recently begun to eat them after a successful "new foods program" persuaded them, that if they will only choke them down, i will give them an awesome treat.

lucas and isaac eat their sandwiches with minimal prompting, and the spilling of one half-melted icee. i eat a piece of leftover tropical pizza, and the last 3 garlic rolls from my only-semi-triumphant attempt of perfecting them. (they still need some work. rosemary, maybe?) jacob eats pretty well for the first half, but is side-tracked by the erasure song that is stuck in his head. he hums the melody nearly a dozen times in a row as i remind him over and over again of the awesome treat that waits at the end of his empty plate. with 3-4 bites left, he gags on a gigantic piece and spits it out. i give him a napkin and tell him that he can throw that bite away, but that he has to finish the last 3. he stares at the remaining bits, and hatches a plan.

jacob: "can i have a wipe?"

me: "no." (i know where he's going with this. a fake-gag, spit into a wipe and a free pass to the trash...)

jacob: "can i have a frisbee?" (shakes his own head, and answers his own question) "no."

me: "what?" (the frisbee thing threw me a little.)

jacob: "can i have a napkin?"

me: "no."

it occurs to me that most parents would not deny their child a napkin. but, i think i might be something of a pioneer.

i hear an exuberant lucas in the bathroom. this is never a good sign. i peer in and find him dancing half-naked in the bathtub. underwear and pants on the floor. i tell him to put his underwear on if he wants "special milk". he hurries and pulls them on. backward. they ride up enough to make him high-step all around the room...but he remains unfazed.



i try to throw caution to the wind when removing the packets for the "special milk". in a weird flight of compulsivity, i often try to make 2 of one flavor and 1 of another. tonight, i grab 3 packets at random. they are ALL different flavors. i replace the box with a certain amount of determination, and a very worried expression. i press on. i congratulate myself on my progress into the rational world, until i realize that i didn't put the deepest flavored packet in the darkest colored cup. i force myself to go with it. i think the universe and i might be tied on this one.

isaac, who has removed his shirt after spilling something on it during dinner, is wandering around singing the words "my kneeeeeeee!!!" in an opera voice. he talks jacob into accompanying him, but gives him several instructions on how to do it right. "no, jacob. like this..." i ask isaac where the phrase came from, and he said it came from this book.



i flip through it and there is indeed an opera singer, with hands clasped and mouth wide, singing these words. who knew? this book is brilliant, by the way. and very enjoyable to read aloud.




i give baths.

as i help isaac to dry off, he hugs me and says, "i love you forever, mom."

i immediately become teary and hug him a little tighter. i tell him i love him forever, too.

he pulls back to look at my face, and says, "mom, what does 'forever' mean?"

i laugh a little as i try to explain it. and, then, realize, i'm really terrible at explaining things. next, i let lucas run naked for a suitable period of time. the boys jump on their beds, imitating a scene from "finding nemo". in between loads of laundry being shoved in and pulled out, i hear jacob start to cry. isaac looks at me nervously when i arrive on the scene and i ask him if he hurt jacob. he says yes. he poked him in the eye. he gets time-out. he apologizes and tells me he wants to write another "i'm sorry letter" to both jacob and i. this delays bedtime a bit, but remorse can't and shouldn't be rushed.

i am now alone with my thoughts, and a pile of laundry, and the contents of an entire lego sticker book stuck to my carpet, and a half-eaten almond joy. i think it's time to press 'publish'.

good gracious

mmmm. i've missed a few things over the last week and a half. a couple trips, outings and one e.r. visit.

backing up to last weekend, not the one we just had, but the one before it (april 17th & 18th). that saturday, we piled in the van and headed off to bodega bay. i love bodega bay. loved it as a kid. love it now. still vaguely creeped out that "the birds" was filmed there. but, really, nothing can bring people together like the threat of being pecked to death. do you feel the same? bodega bay is both eerie and beautiful, is it not? the trees look like they were shaped by the wind. it's always cold-ish. and there are a bizarre number of fisherman carvings EVERYWHERE. ok. i'm over-selling it.

we had taken the twins once when they were 10 or 11 months old. we have photos of them, bundled in fleece, with windburned cheeks in the sand. and, then, never again. until now. (apologies, lucas.)

here is the photographic evidence of our successful adventure:







we had a lot of fun. we splashed. we got far more wet than we (i) EVER intended. we ate sand (jacob). we screamed for whales (lucas). we tried to destroy someone's sandcastle but luckily became distracted by a dog (isaac). we got ice cream (kids) and hot dogs (parents) at the dawg house- this is tradition. we'll be heading back again, soon. we loved it just that much...

we followed up those good feelings with a trip to the emergency room the following day. lucas was trying to pull something out of a cabinet and a wooden activity board fell on his 4th toe, left foot. it looked awful. it broke the skin. it swelled and turned purple. i called the advice nurse and described it so vividly, that she was exclaiming on the other end as though someone had dropped something on her toe. after discussing it with her, we decided to run him to the emergency room just to check it all out. lucas was a very good sport. had some snacks. played with some toys. rolled all over the gurney. had an x-ray. was proclaimed fracture-free and dismissed. here he is, in a rare somber moment:



skipping ahead to this past weekend. we had a busy saturday. it was our 3rd annual autism awareness day at fairytale town in sacramento. isaac and jacob got to sing with some of the other kids from SENSE theatre on the mother goose stage. we hosted an information booth, painted faces, provided kid activities, and featured a variety of vendor booths for providers of autism-related services. we got to meet a lot of families and talk to a lot of nice people. the boys got to run all over the crooked mile and eat rainbow sno-cones. it was exhausting...but the weather was beautiful...my boys were so happy...and i love our volunteers- fellow parents, caring teachers, enthusiastic high school students and super-awesome tutors. these people are bright spots in my life. and i'm grateful for them. love, love, love you.

easy as pie... wait. what?!?!?

ok. so, lately i've wanted a pie. like REALLY wanted one. because, for me, pie is kind of the ultimate. up until a few years ago, i shunned birthday cake in exchange for birthday pie. does that indicate my level of seriousness? not just any old pie, mind you. NOT stale-crusted. NOT individually wrapped. NOT from the grocery store.

it seems simple enough. right? fast forward.

dear marie callendar's, you are a massive disappointment. i've never met a peach that i hated enough to wrap in your crust.

dear nations, i held out hope for you. i risked my heart on cherry, since i NEVER make cherry, myself. at first glance, i distrusted you, in spite of your weightiness. you seemed cheap. no offense. at first bite, you proved that first impressions are sometimes dead-on. and not even singing warrant's "cherry pie" in my head made you delectable. or cheerful. but, more, reinforced that cheap idea. no offense, warrant.

there seemed to be only one sure method of success: clone myself. send my clone on vacation. summon my clone home, refreshed, anxious to please, and ready to earn her keep (because cloning is kind of a pricey business). tell her of my yearnings for a delicious homemade pie. with a tender and buttery crust. and bursting with fresh fruit. she smiles and nods briskly. i can relax, knowing the pie of my dreams is in her (mostly) capable hands...

ah, reality. clones, as we all must know, don't eat. and as a result, don't cook. they're really selfish in that way. sure, they'll do your laundry with a certain amount of snottiness. and stare vacantly into space as they do your dishes. and silently curse you while they give you driving directions. but cooking is beyond them. baking, too.

it falls to me, then, friends. the real me. the world-weary me who in a moment of optimism bought a gigantic box of incredibly ripe strawberries. determined not to waste them. or deprive myself of pie-heaven for another 24 hours. i waited until the kids were in bed and began my task. rinsing, hulling, crust making (resting, rolling), mashing berries, cooking berries, baking crust... and at this moment you find me. blogging. teary-eyed. pot of strawberry-goulash on the stove. empty crust cooling. mascarpone cheese softening.

forgetting up until a few moments ago. it has to chill for another 3 hours. i better not find that stupid clone in my time machine dialing up 3 hours from now...




**side-note** it feels (really) likely that this post is ridiculous. and it will embarrass me in the future. i'm going to go with it, anyway. bear with me?

"twin b"

here are a couple facts about our delightful "twin b", a.k.a. jacob.

1) i call him "cubs". it is a mystery whether or not he likes that.

2) loves chapstick. asks for it every night before bed. blows me a kiss after he's slathered it on his lips.

3) changes the words to songs frequently. this often results in far better lyrics than what the songwriter came up with.

4) loves wearing costumes, having his face painted and, in general, being disguised...

5) almost drove me to insanity the other day when i was trying to help him with his homework. the directions said to list two words that had /kn/ making the "n" sound. they gave the word "knees" as an example. there was no word bank, so kids were just supposed to spout these words out of their little brains. ( i felt like that was a little steep for a first grader. that was later confirmed when a table full of 5 adults came up with a grand total of 5 words matching the description. yikes. don't repeat that.) anyway, the following conversation ensued between jacob and i:

me: "ok. what's another word that has /kn/ making the 'n' sound?"

jacob (reading the example word): "knees."

me: "right. not knees. a different word. not knees."

jacob: "yes, knees."

me: "no. not knees. another word."

jacob: "yes, knees!!!!"

me: "ok. yes, knees. but what about another word? another word that has /kn/? what about 'know'?"

jacob: "what about 'yes'?"

me: "no. i mean, 'know'. like when you know something (pointing at my head)."

jacob: "yes."

me (starting to suspect that we're playing some kind of word association game): "what about 'knit'?"

jacob: "mittens."


and, we skipped that question.


6) while in timeouts, jacob will often wail piteously for me to hug him. it's very sad. and almost works every time.

7) loves to build/create what we lovingly refer to as "jacob's installations". they can be made of anything, so we are careful to not disturb any carefully draped blankets that are surrounded by building blocks. or robots made of legos with hand-held games as heads. or the pair of skeleton pajamas, laid out with paper skeletal hands and a skull ornament head. etc. etc.

8) only recently stopped consistently drawing a mustache on himself when using markers.

9) vandalized a set of new sheets, by labeling both his and isaac's beds with their names. he used black sharpie. we knew it was him because he spelled isaac's name wrong. we tried to discipline him... but admired his work too much. we still use those sheets.

10) just played a baker in his school play entitled, "when i grow up". he wore a chef's hat and apron. he did his part very well and ad libbed a couple of extra dance moves (is it really a musical number without a spin, after all?). at the end of the performance, the kids were all supposed to bow from their spots on the risers. jacob suddenly became mesmerized by the spotlights and wandered out into center stage. he stood right in the middle of the stage as they closed the curtains. he was the last thing you could see. just standing there, looking up, under all the lights. and, you know, he shines that bright to me, all the time.



baker jacob, and partner-in-vandalism, isaac.



***i keep thinking about these very serious topics that i want/need to blog about. namely, autism, as april is autism awareness month. but the time for me to blog is mostly at night, and i am tired and sometimes a little heartsick. i want to be able to devote all my brain power to that particular post, so i'm hoping to do it during the day and before april ends. i have committed myself in writing. please, hold me to it.

"Dear Dentest..."

it is far too late in the evening (for me) to be blogging anything of sense. but i am fueled by my 3rd chocolate cookie, the dregs of this latest dr. pepper and the promise of a buckwheat pillow soon to be draped around my neck and shoulders. there's a product endorsement hidden in there. or several.


i am also nudged along by the promise to my mom to post the following letter from isaac. chez blackard, we are fans of the "i'm sorry letter". we became fans after a very unfortunate incident involving my glass cake stand. i gave the offending party a timeout after said cake stand met its disastrous (and explosive) end. but even after the required 5 minutes, i found myself still a bit angst-ridden and not quite ready to forgive. you've been there, right? it was then that the "i'm sorry letter" was born. it didn't revive the cake stand, but it took the sting out of the loss. and included a drawing of the cake stand in happier times, hoisting a giant birthday cake, candles blazing.


in this spirit, the "i'm sorry letter" has begun to evolve. at least, from isaac's perspective. it's now something of a guilt-inducing technique when he feels like you might owe him an apology. what you might say to him if only you had the discernment to know you had been SO WRONG. the most recent recipient of this gift, is the dentist. isaac had to have a dental procedure last week that required sedation. the procedure went smoothly and aside from the very slurry and deep-voiced proclamations of love that isaac made to me in recovery, all seemed well. as he began to feel more like himself, though, he noticed his two badges of honor. the bandaid covering the iv site and the bandaid on the back of the arm from the "forget-about-it" shot. oma (my mom) carefully explained to him that the dentist had given him a shot in his muscle to help him relax before his dental work. that seemed to make some kind of sense to him and temporarily halted any further theory development.


later in the evening, isaac told me that he wanted to write an "i'm sorry letter" to the dentist. never to discourage a correspondence, i handed over a stack of paper and isaac set to work with his current favorite marker, lime green. i think i like what he came up with, and have been reminded a couple of times that we "need to mail it".


here it is:





translated, it says: Dear Dentist, You're sorry if you pinched me in the muscle and I don't like it. You maked my tongue quite lame dude. Love Isaac B.

spring break 2010- in review

we are now almost one week out from the last day of spring break, and it feels as though the time is running out to document our frivolity. so, after sufficient suspense, here are the highlights. mostly in photos.





we attended a concert on april 2nd to commemorate world autism awareness day. we were riveted. we nearly stormed the stage numerous times to try our hand at guitar. we danced. we ran back and forth. we took our shirt off. well, lucas did. sometimes you can't fight the feeling.







we had our traditional Easter egg hunt. lucas grudgingly wore a bow tie, but drew the line at keeping his shirt tucked in. i was smug, nevertheless. isaac was competitive and quick to scoop up any and all eggs within view. jacob was so distracted by his loose tooth, that he had to be encouraged repeatedly to keep up the hunt. it felt only slightly backward to ignore his requests to "go to the dentist" and instead prod him to keep looking for candy. those peeps won't find themselves.





we got pajamas that have the same teeth that we have...






we took the boys to monterey bay aquarium for the first time. ragain had never been, and i hadn't been since i was a teenager. the boys loved it. the drive was tolerable both ways. and nobody got carsick. win. win. win.







the jellyfish were a huge hit. other favorites were the seahorses and sea dragons (jacob), the black-footed penguins (isaac) and the clownfish and giant octopus (lucas). we went to the little shallow section where you can pet the bat rays, but those bat rays have been around the tank more than a few times and they weren't feeling like being loved up. they stayed safely in a corner of the tank where no one could touch them. wise choice, bat rays.






before leaving monterey, we stopped for ice cream and milkshakes, a souvenir penny, and a peek at the beach. isaac wanted to test each and every telescope he found and later claimed that was his favorite part. i'm glad we could make his spring break beach dreams come true.

as for me, i got my daffodils.