The Pucci Land Dill-billies (a little bit Disney, a little bit Beverley Hillbillies)

"It's not a matter of upper and lower class but of being up a while and down a while.”

~ Irish Proverb

A Little bit Disney because my children are *most of the time* over-the-top polite, sweet, and obedient (Um, 'Data and Santino are working on all of these things... sort of...). If one did not know better, they would think that much of what our boys say and do was/is scripted. We walk outside and see deer, bunny rabbits, beautiful foliage, and discover things like this Robin's nest, built in the center pillar of our front porch.  The boys are climbing trees and asking to take photos of the wild life and of each other...

You are waiting for the birds to sing about creation whilst they, the deer and wee beasts begin making your garments for the upcoming ball you'll be attending that evening.

Alas! One second later... or turn and face the other direction and... Beverly Hillbillies (asymmetrically weighted on the hillbilly side) because of scenes like Adam taking the twins to Khuns Market, with 'Data clad in these sunglasses...and her (not so clean) Walmart PJ's... making such a scene that Adam gets nasty looks from onlooking Khuns-ers. (if you're unfamiliar with Khuns, just know that Jerry Springer could book an entire year of guests for his show, from one visit there...read: it takes a lot to freak people out there, but we apparently have a gift). My two year old daughter enjoys playing with toy guns and her twin brother, with his bodily excretions.

....We could feed a small village with the crumbs taken from underneath our couch cushions. There's Parrot feces on the window sills...

 

 ... Because along with the bunnies and robins, we now have a chicken coop and chickens...

I'm eagerly waiting for the refrigerator to break down so we can lovingly place it on the front porch... 

Happy Second Birthday Babies!!!

Wow! I can't believe the Twins are TWO!! I will never be able to put into words how blessed Adam and I feel to have these babies.

Last night, after the wonderful little party ended, and all the kids were asleep, Adam and I settled down to watch a movie. There are so few good movies to watch these days... whether due to just plain bad film making, or the fact that 95% of them are morally depraved... whatever the case, when we find one we think we can watch, we're quite happy about it. We found a Robert Duvall film last night, On Demand. Since Robert has come to a saving knowledge of the Lord, I've noticed that not only are every one of his films amazing, they're also "safe". "Get Low" is no exception. An absolutely amazing film and story. It's also a film about which I can agree with Adam when he said "This is gonna go in the 'Life is Beautiful Box'... One of the best movies I've ever seen, yet I'll never be able to watch it again because it's heart wrenching."

And how! When the film was over, I burst, and I mean BURST into WAILING tears. Adam told me that I "needed to do that." Hmmph. Before we began the movie, I had been thinking about my Dad. I had been thinking about him all day, wishing he could be there to watch his legacy at play. When we began the movie, I wanted my Dad to be there because he loved Robert Duvall. The story was the straw that broke the camel's back.

After I had my over-the-top crying fest, Adam had some extremely comforting words, and among them were how when we had gone through our third miscarriage, he had felt so much despair... He said that today, as we celebrated the birth of our babies, he was still in awe of how blessed we are to have been given these TWO babies!

It was absolutely crazy today... what with the 11 grandkids of mom's and our little neighbor friend, who was born just a few wks before Teodata and Santino, Stella SCREECHING as soon as I'm out of eyesight... really, pretty much a typical day for us! =) How awesome is that??? So even when I'm ready to stick a fork in my eye because the sound of silence was lost 2 yrs ago, all I have to do is stop and look. To be still, myself, and know that He is God... just by merely looking into the faces of those two year old babies.

The video should suffice, seeing as mom filmed for over EIGHT minutes (you won't miss much if you only watch the first minute), Alas! I have to post the pictures Jill took (thank you!), she has a great eye... and sense of humor. =) The last few... sort of sum up the day. =)

"I'm a Puzzle Piece"

"For You formed my inward parts;

You wove me in my mother’s womb.

I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;Wonderful are Your works,

And my soul knows it very well."

Earlier this week I sent out an email to our friends and family, asking them to participate in The Puzzling Piece i-Pad Challenge (please also see the page link above for more info).

As many of you know, the awareness symbol for autism is a puzzle piece. I've always loved the symbol, and I'm not sure who came up with it, but I'm certain that it was someone who loves a child with autism. Without a pun intended, the puzzle piece just fits so well... and on so many levels.

Shortly after Sam began receiving Wraparound Services, he began speaking, slowly but surely, in sentences, that made sense. One of these times was when he climbed up on may lap, squeezed into me and exclaimed "I'm a puzzle piece mom!!" This just melted my heart. My Little Puzzle Piece... Indeed you are Sam.

I've been sending out emails and having conversations on the phone, telling the following story. I figured I'd blog about it, so I can link it, instead of repeating it over and over (although, I rather enjoy telling the story, but as most of you know "Andrea's Typing Skills " is an oxymoron.)

Sam has been withdrawing from "the crowd" increasingly more, with age. What's upsetting, is that he knows that he doesn't "fit in". What's all the more upsetting, is that Adam, his loving father, knows this feeling all too well, even today. Before the holidays, we had a family get together and all of the kids (mine and the cousins) were having a ball playing together... all day long. I found Sam sitting on the steps alone. When I asked him what was going on he said "I feel like I'm in really tall grass and I can't find my way home. The grass is the people."

Then there were the birthdays, and the holidays... Sam asked me this year if he could eat his cake and ice cream in the tree house (outside in December) "...and the kids can play and I'll come in and thank them for my presents." We knew that we needed to do something. Not just for Sam, but for all of us, who have a hard time understanding how we can help Sam while simultaneously moving on with our day.

After receiving counsel from my moms from my Special Needs Homeschoolers of Western PA , we had to go through a bunch of State red tape (which included a couple evaluations, tons of paperwork, and waiting for the State to handle things... The State "handling things"... oh,help us!), Sam was finally ready for his first day at Wesley Wonder Kids. This is a wonderful, true Godsend, of a program. He attends, twice a week, for three hour sessions. It's a 3 children, to 1 adult ratio. The children are all high functioning autistic children, in need of social skills, and most importantly, a place to go where so-called "normal" children, are not the norm... the autistic kids are!

After his first day there, he was unbelievable excited. On the way home, Sam was telling Adam all the jokes the kids were telling. Sam's jokes (and apparently the Wonder Kid's jokes) are much like Adam's, pretty much no one gets them. =) Sam then said "It's like they speak my own language Dad!" Praise the Lord!

Last night, Johnny and Paolo were lamenting the fact that they didn't have a "cool place like Wonder Kids to go to." Sam wants to bring them along, but obviously, he cannot. The lamenting soon turned into complaining. At first I tried gingerly turning them away from the subject, so as not yell, "Are YOU autistic?!?!?" When that didn't work, I asked the boys if they could think about how Sam always plays alone. If they could think about how they walk away from him when he talks too much. I asked them if they remembered how he is rarely a part of their play time with their cousins and friends. Both boys were already feeling the guilt, but then Sam said "Yeah guys, it's like we're all aliens there, and we all speak alien!" Yet again, after several years, he referred to himself as a puzzle piece... "It's like we're a puzzle, and we all fit together. I'm a puzzle piece."

My Little Puzzle Piece.

...and they became indignant and said to Him, “Do You hear what these children are saying?” And Jesus said to them, “Yes; have you never read, ‘OUT OF THE MOUTH OF INFANTS AND NURSING BABIES YOU HAVE PREPARED PRAISE FOR YOURSELF’?”

Thin & Vindicated (Oh Happy Day)

Today I had a nuclear bone scan. One might wonder how a nuclear bone scan could cause my saying "Oh Happy Day." Let me explain (please note that I'm typing this with a huge smile on my face).

The nuclear bone scan is for some problems I've been dealing with for quite some time now. Going by my history with tests, the scan will not find anything of note for my rheumatoligist, and I'll be left feeling as though I'm nuts... more nuts... still. Again, why so happy?

I was referred to as "thin" 3 times today, by three separate people. WOO-HOO!! This is something I have not heard in several years. "Too Thin" is not a compliment, but one is hard pressed to find a woman who would not feel good about hearing "How do you stay so thin?" Now never mind the fact that my shirt, and scarf, were strategically placed over the fat... whatever, it worked!

Now for the good part. Remember a post of mine from a little over three months ago, where I talked about tripping and falling onto the baby gate? Do you remember how I thought for sure my ribs were broken? Do you further remember how my mother was telling me that I really didn't need to have a chest x-ray, because she "knew" that they were just bruised? I came back from Med Express that night with my tail between my legs, feeling like a wimpy, clumsy, complainer. Not only was Mom right, but I couldn't imagine going through a break, if my ribs were just bruised and they felt that bad.

Well, during the test, the technician said "Have you had some recent trauma to your right chest area?" I said "Yeah, I fell on a baby gate about three months ago and bruised my ribs." She said "Three months ago?? Wow, they weren't bruised, they were broken, and they still are." At this point I tell her the entire story (throwing Mom under the bus), and then she asked me if my sternum was hurt as well. I told her that it hurt really bad, and that I could have sworn I felt it "moving". She proceeded to tell me that "It's pretty much impossible to break your sternum, but it's lit up here, so you must've at least cracked it... You said this was three months ago?" She then went on and on about how bad of a break it must've been, and how she can't imagine what happened to my sternum... I asked her if I could take pictures with my phone.  =)

The icing on the cake was when she brought the images back to the doctor to look at. (While I was waiting, I called Mom to get her apology). The doctor saw the pictures and asked if I was there for trauma! Ha! I am SO not a wimp!! VINDICATION!  I was carrying at least 40 pounds of squirming babies around, cleaning... Leaping tall buildings in a single bound... I made Wonder Woman look like a wimp... okay, I guess I've taken it too far, huh? I've also forgotten, all too soon, that I tripped over and fell... on what I tripped over... Still a pretty good day though. =)

Video taken before Christmas. Poor Santino. I better not be a wimp... 'Data will be a teenager one day. =)

Not Quite

She was not quite what you would call refined. She was not quite what you would call unrefined. She was the kind of person that keeps a parrot.

~Mark Twain

I know I've been MIA. I also know that Christmas, our 14th wedding anniversary, the welcoming of the New Year, have all come and gone... without so much as a word or picture from me. I just couldn't this year. I'm going to leave it at that and ask if you would join me in pretending that I actually did post, and remembering that God is good. All the time.

It's Over?

Monday marked one year since Dad left us. In a weird way it was ... anticlimactic? I don't know if that's the word to describe it... It's as if I expected some big "thing" to happen. A feeling of relief and accomplishement... or something... a "Whew! Glad that's over!!" kind of ...thing?  I can't put it into words (surprise surprise). Instead of feeling as though I've "gotten through" that first year, it feels as if the pain has worsened, and I'm facing this next year which is going to be much worse than the first. Perhaps it wasn't as bad as it is now because I was in a daze last year during the holidays. I was putting up the tree this week and wondering how I even did it last year. I can't remember putting up the tree last year... at all.  I had not lived, at that point, an entire year without the salt and color Dad brought to every holiday and birthday... and weekend... to our every day lives.

On Monday morning, I woke up at 5:30, on my own, no alarm. 5:30 a.m  was the time I awoke the morning Dad died. I thanked the Lord for waking me up then, as if to say "Time to remember Andrea. It's here."  

All throughout the night before, I remembered his last evening. I so very much cherish that time I had with Dad. I had the privilege of being with him for his last evening here on Earth. Just the two of us.We talked a lot. Thank you God!! I remember everything he said. He was cracking jokes as usual, and had some sobering words for me as well. He fell asleep after a few hours, and I prayed that the Lord would wake me every ten minutes so I could press the button for his boost of pain medication. God granted me my request. For four hours, He woke me, every ten minutes on the dot. I'm still so grateful to Him for that. At 5:30 Jimmy came in and that's pretty much when the wheels fell off, and those horrific last hours began.

After putting on a pot of coffee Monday morning, I looked outside to see the white snow covering everything. Immediately I thought of how last year Sam told me that God had allowed all of that snow to come, and keep coming, to make me know that Pappy's sins were washed as white as snow.  I struggled then, as I have struggled periodically throughout this past year, with resting in the knowledge that Dad is really in Heaven. When I saw the snow this past Monday, and recalled Sam's words, the Lord spoke to my heart in such a way that it was almost audible, "I've told you a hundred different ways that he's with Me. He's with Me." It was a soft word, not one of rebuke. I began sobbing and He kept repeating it, "He's with Me. He's with Me." Until a peace came upon me. Now this peace has come upon me throughout this past year, and I've even blogged about a few of those times, yet, I end up in doubt when fear grips me. The thought of any other ending is literally unbearable. I doubt because I begin thinking just that: "You're seeing things so that you can comfort yourself."

This time, however, God also showed me that short of appearing before me, in the flesh, and speaking it to my face, with Dad standing next to Him, He could not assure me any more than He already has. In fact, I had to laugh because I think it was God who also gave me the thought that if the afore mentioned scene actually did happen, I would most likely come to the conclusion that I had lost my ever lovin' mind!

Doubt: Satan causes doubt. It's interesting because I Googled a Bible passage on doubt, and a Satanic website came up.. praising Satan because he's a doubter. Doubt, in the Satanist's mind is good, because it keeps you questioning and thinking. "Thinking People" doubt. Hmmm. This is what Jesus says about it: "For the doubter is like the surging sea, driven and tossed by the wind. That person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord." I refuse to further let Satan toss me about, particularly when it comes to the knowledge of my Father's eternal salvation.

Fear: Again, from Satan. God, however, says, "Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. This is how love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment: In this world we are like Jesus. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.We love because he first loved us... God is Love."

I will continue to ache for the presence of my father, but I will remember, without out doubt and fear...

 "He's with Me. He's with Me. He's with Me..."

Happy Birthday Mom

Girl Fishing, John Singer Sargent
One of Mom's favorite artists

Mom is going to kill me for doing this, but I have to remember her birthday via my blog. I am forever at a loss when it comes to honoring, gifting... showing my gratitude toward my mother. There's no possible way I can do it, as this earthy body and brain are just not capable of it. I bought her a Christian music CD... another "fail". Even if it was a great one, would it have really shown her how I feel about her life? Not even close. At any rate, it's Mom's birthday today. Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of Dad's death. I don't believe she'll be able to enjoy today at all... or even a bit, but I'm going to try.

I wrote a poem for her several years back, for Mother's Day. I won't publish that poem, as it was written for her, and she may not want me to do that (writing this post is going to be pushing it). I have to say that this poem truly happened, not physically, but very much spiritually. Basically I was in prayer, asking the Lord what I should do with my life. I had, and continue to have, a heart for foreign missions... but I wanted to know what "career" I should choose. Now. I guess the poem really does say it better, but the Lord began to show me my mother. He showed me how she had impacted so many lives... quietly, humbly. He showed me that, becoming a doctor, a lawyer... a famous artist, would not hold a candle to becoming a Godly woman like my Mom, the stay-at-home, wife and mother.

I thought of Proverbs 31 (and not the portion that talks about giving strong drink to the sick of heart =)) and how my Mom fit that mold so beautifully. At any rate, I have not become this woman, at least not as of now. My children will not rise up and call me blessed. Rather, given the chance, they most likely would rise up and call me nuts. Yes, I do get up while it's still night, but usually because of a hot flash, not to prepare food for my family. I do not consider a field for purchasing and planting crops. I do, however, consider a dress from Etsy.com, and purchase it for Christmas... for me. In short, I have not become my Mom yet. I do hope to at least come close before I leave this planet.

Happy birthday Mom.

The Wife of Noble Character (Proverbs 31:10-31)

A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies. Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value. She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life. She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands. She is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar.

She gets up while it is still night; she provides food for her family and portions for her female servants. She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard. She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks. She sees that her trading is profitable, and her lamp does not go out at night. In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers. She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy. When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet. She makes coverings for her bed; she is clothed in fine linen and purple. Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land. She makes linen garments and sells them, and supplies the merchants with sashes. She is clothed with strength and dignity;

she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. She watches over the affairs of her household

and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children arise and call her blessed;

her husband also, and he praises her: “Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.” Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.