<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608</id><updated>2009-11-14T19:00:47.806-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pages of Our Crazy Life</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>468</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-518447815938704706</id><published>2009-11-12T11:27:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T11:41:47.064-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting with the windows wide open!</title><content type='html'>The &lt;a href="http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/11/gaaaahhhhhhhh.html"&gt;money fairy&lt;/a&gt; should be here any minute now. Last night, for the first time in his entire life, George took medicine. I didn't have to restrain him, I didn't have to put the liquid medicine in a syringe and stick it way back in his throat, I didn't end up wearing any of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, to be honest, there were tears and screams involved at first. But in the end, he took the medicine cup in hand and drank from it. (After first being redirected when he tried to pour it into his ear. Because it was to make his ear feel better. Logical, but incorrect.) Emma and I threw an impromptu Yay You Took Your Medicine party and had a quick family crazy dance moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then he scarfed down both his dinner and the leftover lunch sitting on the counter, and asked for dessert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He woke up today a bit congested, but feeling fine. No temperature, no hurting ears. &lt;strong&gt;Very&lt;/strong&gt; excited about sending Emma off to school while he stayed in his pajamas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This mom gig, I don't know. I may need some time to myself in the loony bin when the kids get older. But for now, I'll wait for the money fairy to show up, or maybe try something else that I've always thought impossible. My crazy little world just keeps surprising me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1844c by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/4098219537/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1844c" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2492/4098219537_15d368d799.jpg" width="333" height="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-518447815938704706?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/518447815938704706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=518447815938704706' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/518447815938704706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/518447815938704706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/11/waiting-with-windows-wide-open.html' title='Waiting with the windows wide open!'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-492995659822851164</id><published>2009-11-11T17:26:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T17:34:16.039-08:00</updated><title type='text'>GAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!</title><content type='html'>So we went for a nice drive in the country. Taking the Jeep out for a battery charging cruise. Emma and I shouting out every animal we see, George resting/zoning in his seat (he loves car rides, finds them very calming).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until about 35 minutes in, past halfway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When George threw up all over himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, that resting/zoning thing? Not so much resting as it was really not feeling well. Guess who wins Mom of the year this year?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's been laying on the couch ever since we got home three hours ago. Fever hovering around 99-100 degrees, not too bad, but now he's starting to push on his ear. Hello ear infection, how are you?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tonight, I have to try to force Motrin into him. Then change my clothes after he spits it all back out on me.  (Not in defiance, just a lovely sensory thing.  We have NEVER been able to get him to swallow medicine voluntarily.  And yet? We keep trying. Maybe someday he'll understand that it will help him feel better.  And then?  The money fairy will fly in the window with my million dollars.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tomorrow, we return to the doctor's office, so he can get a shot of Amoxicillin. He LOVES shots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just about ready to move us all to a deserted island somewhere, anyone know of one that comes fully furnished?  And maybe has a Target just a short rowboat trip away?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-492995659822851164?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/492995659822851164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=492995659822851164' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/492995659822851164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/492995659822851164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/11/gaaaahhhhhhhh.html' title='GAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-7510124026478550574</id><published>2009-11-10T18:39:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T18:44:27.922-08:00</updated><title type='text'>House of Germs</title><content type='html'>Rotations of the flu, viruses, etc. have been wiping out our household. I have to say, it's awfully nice having kids who are capable of entertaining themselves when I need to sneak back to bed for a nap. I think we're on the up-swing back into civilization now. I'm going to miss those naps, though, might have to keep those!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="House of Germs by Meg Beverly on DSP" href="http://www.digitalscrapbookplace.com/gallery/showphoto.php?photo=341280"&gt;&lt;img alt="House of Germs" src="http://www.digitalscrapbookplace.com/gallery/data/518/Germs.jpg" width="525" height="525" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-7510124026478550574?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/7510124026478550574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=7510124026478550574' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/7510124026478550574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/7510124026478550574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/11/house-of-germs.html' title='House of Germs'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-95245742214898411</id><published>2009-11-03T19:50:00.005-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T20:26:00.552-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bathroom Humor</title><content type='html'>Enough introspection! Back to real life. Despite the title of this entry, I promise not to regress into a twelve year old boy. But George's aide told me a story I just have to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The toilets and urinals at my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;children's&lt;/span&gt;' school have automated flushing devices. Lovely for keeping the germ sharing to a minimum. Not so fun for little &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Kindergartners&lt;/span&gt; with sensory issues who find loud noises frightening. To take care of this, George's teachers taught him at the beginning of the school year to ask for a sticky note whenever he needs to use the bathroom. He places it over the sensor until he's done, at which point he yanks it off and dashes to the other end of the bathroom. Works like a charm. (Except when it falls, mid... well, you know, but that's not part of this story.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, for a portion of his day, George has a different aide, one new to this school. The other day, while with this aide, George needed a bathroom break. He asked his aide for a sticky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;[Important information: George has been talking in sentences for less than a year. His language is more limited than the average &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Kindergartner&lt;/span&gt; and he can sometimes be hard to understand, especially when you're not sure of the context.]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now his aide understood George's request to use the bathroom. He was ready to take him there, but George wouldn't leave the classroom. He asked for his sticky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His aide heard,"Stinky."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granted, also a word &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;occasionally&lt;/span&gt; used in conjunction with bathrooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I need Sticky." "Stinky?" "Sticky!" "Stinky???" "I need STICKY!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor guy couldn't figure out why they were having this conversation and not progressing down the hallway to take care of things!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily for George, someone else finally stepped in, and his aide learned a new routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qy9Vkib7ev8/SvEBe0iyH-I/AAAAAAAAAKM/76nJfFFbk9s/s1600-h/IMG_1190.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 340px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400099057206173666" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qy9Vkib7ev8/SvEBe0iyH-I/AAAAAAAAAKM/76nJfFFbk9s/s400/IMG_1190.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Dude, sometimes a sticky really &lt;strong&gt;is&lt;/strong&gt; just a sticky.  Three cheers for speech therapy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-95245742214898411?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/95245742214898411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=95245742214898411' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/95245742214898411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/95245742214898411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/11/bathroom-humor.html' title='Bathroom Humor'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qy9Vkib7ev8/SvEBe0iyH-I/AAAAAAAAAKM/76nJfFFbk9s/s72-c/IMG_1190.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-1497848027204420152</id><published>2009-11-02T12:45:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T13:11:30.368-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Multi-Tasking</title><content type='html'>Perhaps it's the weather, driving me indoors. Perhaps it's having the kids in the same school for the first time, allowing me to be a stay at home mom that actually &lt;strong&gt;stays&lt;/strong&gt; at home for more than half an hour each day. Perhaps it's Jason's deployment, making me reflect on our little family a bit more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the reason, I find myself wanting to be a little more domestic and also, to keep better track of the memories we're making this year, so that Jason can share them with us long distance. We chat online almost every morning, so it's easy to get lazy and not post to this blog or keep up with our family scrapbook. But time is flying by SO quickly, and the kids are changing every day, I don't want to miss any of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm &lt;a href="http://www.shimelle.com/classes/618/a-new-online-scrapbooking-class-blogging-for-scrapbookers/"&gt;taking a class &lt;/a&gt;to give me a boost in the right direction. And I hope to keep up with it, daily, in order to get all these stories and memories out of my head. I keep finding so many wonderful communities online that simply enhance those I am a part of in real life, and this one appears to be no exception.  (Hello classmates!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm finding craft activities for the kids, and sewing ones for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1807 by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/4068927811/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1807" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2731/4068927811_752e15f7c4.jpg" width="500" height="333" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Getting us all away from the TV, which is far too convenient in these cold and wet months. And I'm going to take pictures along the way. I try to send Jason a disc of photos every month, but my file from this last month was pathetically small, and that's not fair to someone who is missing home.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;And I'm cooking! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="Banana Bread by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/4068920773/"&gt;&lt;img alt="Banana Bread" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2753/4068920773_4551d7a2f8.jpg" width="500" height="333" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Yummy Banana Bread recipe from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://smittenkitchen.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Smitten Kitchen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;It is so easy to succumb to the tastes of the little picky eaters (we're working on those sensory issues!) in my family and not cook. But I am so very sick of food that comes out of a box! So the kids are helping me bake, and loving the results. And I am buying single servings of all the fresh vegetables I enjoy, and not being embarrassed at the check out line by my little bags of one sweet potato, one artichoke, etc.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;All this randomness written down to sort out my own goals and plans. I'll probably be returning to the workforce within the next couple of years, as the kids get more and more capable and independent. I want to make this time at home count. And I want to remember it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-1497848027204420152?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/1497848027204420152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=1497848027204420152' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/1497848027204420152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/1497848027204420152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/11/multi-tasking_02.html' title='Multi-Tasking'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-4533614564877917412</id><published>2009-11-01T13:54:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T14:20:11.303-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/sets/72157622710122290/"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image Hosted by ImageShack.us" src="http://img5.imageshack.us/img5/5245/mosaic19cf2be53cb785b58.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I love when Halloween falls on a Saturday! (According to my sister-in-law's calculations, the next one will be in 2015, bummer.) Thanks to a friend who "boo-ed" us earlier in the week and some supplies I had been stockpiling, we had a variety of crafts and activities to get us through the day. Still, throughout the day, I heard, "George is &lt;strong&gt;excited&lt;/strong&gt; for Halloween. George is &lt;strong&gt;waiting&lt;/strong&gt; for Halloween!" Too cute. Both kids did really well with the anticipation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Late afternoon, we headed over to Gramma &amp;amp; Papa's for dinner and trick-or-treating. Emma likes giving out candy almost as much as trick-or-treating herself, so we always head out early so we can get done and be back in time to help out at the door. Last year, it only took going to one house for George to clue in, and this year he took the lead! He was off and running from house to house, loudly proclaimed "trick or treat" and "thank you", handled disappointments with ease (Hello neighbors? Turn off your porch light if you don't plan to open the door!), and even went through a haunted garage that Emma refused to enter. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Emma was polite and spoke up when asked about her costume (she was Daphne from the Scooby Doo cartoons), and dealt with a slip on wet leaves with no tears. After about an hour, she declared her bucket too heavy and wanted to go back to the house. George could have continued for another few hours but was quick to agree when told he could choose something from his bucket when we got back!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;All in all, a very successful Halloween! (And check out that last picture in the set! I call it the post sugar high/end of long day/holy crap I'm tired shot.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-4533614564877917412?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/4533614564877917412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=4533614564877917412' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/4533614564877917412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/4533614564877917412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-love-when-halloween-falls-on-saturday.html' title=''/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-1007563384003932236</id><published>2009-10-26T11:28:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T12:16:06.344-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lightbulb Moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image Hosted by ImageShack.us" src="http://img48.imageshack.us/img48/7534/img1759w.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Early school mornings often look like this these days. Laying in front of the floor heater vent, breakfast within reach, minimal lighting. George has always been a morning person (versus Emma's night owl behavior), so seeing him so sleepy and cuddly is precious to me. It only takes about 15 minutes though and then he's up and running (literally), playing, eating, jabbering, the usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emma noticed something this morning that I hadn't clued into. Most mornings, once George has gotten past this floppy phase, he starts turning on lights. ALL the lights. Lights we don't usually use, like the bright overhead light in the living room and the two hallway lights. I thought for sure this was just a habit, connected to his love of all things that can be switched, pushed, turned, or otherwise engaged. He doesn't usually do it at any other time of the day, but I figured it had gotten to be part of his routine ("do it once, and it's routine"), and didn't think on it further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, rather than it being a tactile sensory response, Emma suggested that it's more of a need for the light itself. George is both very literal and also very receptive to sensory input. That combination reveals itself in these dark early mornings where George must create the environmental surrounding that tell him it is, indeed, morning.  Emma pointed out to me that the only other time George floods the house with light is occasionally after dinner; again, now that it is already dark so early in the evening. As soon as I start giving countdown warnings that bathtime is approaching, George races around the house, turning off as many lights as I will allow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creating night time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one will ever convince me that my children aren't brilliant.  Both of them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-1007563384003932236?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/1007563384003932236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=1007563384003932236' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/1007563384003932236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/1007563384003932236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/10/lightbulb-moment.html' title='Lightbulb Moment'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-4474460734215569494</id><published>2009-10-25T15:11:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T15:28:18.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Clouds of Words</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="Clouds of Words by Meg Beverly on DSP" href="http://www.digitalscrapbookplace.com/gallery/showphoto.php?photo=339273"&gt;&lt;img alt="Clouds of Words" src="http://www.digitalscrapbookplace.com/gallery/data/518/thinking2.jpg" width="525" height="525" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I feel stuck lately.  Stuck in my head, stuck in routine.  I created the &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.wordle.net"&gt;word cloud&lt;/a&gt; above out of all the words in this blog.  Seems like I've said it all before, probably too many times.  And with the deadly combination of constantly changing weather and the flu cycling through our family, we're not getting out much. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I'm not taking many pictures, so I'm stuck with the ones I have.  We're not having fun, new experiences; so I'm stuck with random bits from day to day.  The kids haven't been on their best behavior lately; so I'm stuck with my desire to share their successes, but would really like to moan and whine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Can you tell we've been housebound for too long?  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-4474460734215569494?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/4474460734215569494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=4474460734215569494' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/4474460734215569494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/4474460734215569494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/10/clouds-of-words.html' title='Clouds of Words'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-7602304155206433705</id><published>2009-10-18T14:01:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T14:06:32.723-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally Fishing</title><content type='html'>These photos are a couple of months old, but I don't think I ever shared them here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="Finally Fishing! by Meg Beverly on DSP" href="http://www.digitalscrapbookplace.com/gallery/showphoto.php?photo=338368"&gt;&lt;img alt="Finally-Fishing" src="http://www.digitalscrapbookplace.com/gallery/data/518/Finally-Fishing.jpg" width="525" height="525" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-7602304155206433705?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/7602304155206433705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=7602304155206433705' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/7602304155206433705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/7602304155206433705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/10/finally-fishing.html' title='Finally Fishing'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-4686543104969133931</id><published>2009-10-09T10:33:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T10:39:12.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hockey Mom</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="Hockey Mom by Meg Beverly on DSP" href="http://www.digitalscrapbookplace.com/gallery/showphoto.php?photo=336796"&gt;&lt;img alt="hockey" src="http://www.digitalscrapbookplace.com/gallery/data/518/hockey2.jpg" width="525" height="525" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Journaling:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;As of today, I have a GINORMOUS sports bag and HOCKEY STICK in the back of the van. WHAT????????????? We are NOT a sports family, what’s going on? Yeah so, today I found out about an ice hockey group for kids with special needs. And it started today. So we boogied over there and spent AN HOUR trying to find a uniform that would fit little man. (The group is for kindergarten through high school, so he was by FAR the smallest). By the time we were done, he only got about 15 minutes on the ice.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;In that 15 minutes, he went from hanging between the coaches knees trying to stand up, to SKATING ON HIS OWN AND HITTING A HOCKEY PUCK!!!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Please excuse my screaming, it was unreal how well he did. All the other moms &amp;amp; dads were coming up to me exclaiming about how well he was doing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;So yeah, I'm a hockey mom now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(For biggie size views of the photos, follow this link to the full set on Flickr: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/sets/72157622546559184/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hockey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-4686543104969133931?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/4686543104969133931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=4686543104969133931' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/4686543104969133931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/4686543104969133931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/10/hockey-mom.html' title='Hockey Mom'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-3484554280534175175</id><published>2009-09-27T12:56:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T17:05:37.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The New Normal</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;It is inevitable that a group of moms, gathered together in the late hours of an evening, are going to talk about their kids.  It is also inevitable that a group of moms who all have kids with Autism are going to talk about their experiences with Autism.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;What surprised me this past weekend, as I sat with friends around my wine laden dining room table, was how much we talked about our neuro-typical kids.   Not that we don't talk about them in general, but these were conversations about our &lt;em&gt;struggles&lt;/em&gt; with our NT kids.  We compared melt-downs, discussed sensitivities, commisserated about difficult social situations.  Sounds familiar, right?  Each of those could be chapter titles in any "living with Autism" book.  So why did we spend so much time trying to figure out what to do with our NT children, aren't those supposed to be the easy ones?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The way I figure it, those of us with loved ones on the Autism Spectrum spend so much time learning all there is to know about that world.  We research and advocate.  We rearrange our lives and our homes to make them inclusive in every sense.  We cook for a special (and limited) diet. We surround ourselves with activity schedules, therapists, playgroups, and IEPs.  We &lt;strong&gt;know&lt;/strong&gt; how to live with Autism.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Autism has become our normal.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;So the new challenge is to learn about dealing with the needs of our other kids. The ones the world says are normal.  The ones that can seem, in many ways, so much more difficult to us.  Because, though we live with Autism, we live with our NT kids, too.  And they deserve just as much effort.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1689 by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3959312301/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1689" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2674/3959312301_bbc013819c.jpg" width="500" height="333" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-3484554280534175175?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/3484554280534175175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=3484554280534175175' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/3484554280534175175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/3484554280534175175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/09/new-normal.html' title='The New Normal'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-3850389306025941132</id><published>2009-09-24T19:47:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T19:57:04.657-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Look!  Something Shiny!</title><content type='html'>Conversation with my sweet little ADD girl:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;em&gt;List of chores that need to be done, with lots of stops to be sure I'm being heard. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her: Okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Do you understand?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her: Yup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: You need to do them today, okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Okay, thanks. &lt;em&gt;Start to leave the room.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her: Wait.... what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1194 by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3952419506/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1194" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2623/3952419506_a304665a62.jpg" width="500" height="333" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-3850389306025941132?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/3850389306025941132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=3850389306025941132' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/3850389306025941132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/3850389306025941132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/09/look-something-shiny.html' title='Look!  Something Shiny!'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-7437510737216964081</id><published>2009-09-23T22:15:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T22:27:01.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Playtime</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;Is there anything better than making a tent under the dining room table? Oh yeah, there's one thing better, when your tent is made with special army blankets sent by daddy. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1685 by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3945783379/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1685" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2660/3945783379_a8ab7fa1e1.jpg" width="500" height="333" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(You can't see them, they're camouflaged!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Getting away from each other for the bulk of the day makes playing together much more fun when they are together. I love seeing them acting out long, involved stories about camping and Batman and school and Scooby Doo and flying and riding horses and trains and, and, and... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The fact that Emma wants to play with George, and George takes an active part in playing with Emma? Does a momma's heart good.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-7437510737216964081?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/7437510737216964081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=7437510737216964081' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/7437510737216964081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/7437510737216964081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/09/playtime.html' title='Playtime'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-8450031990118282083</id><published>2009-09-22T18:44:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T19:06:23.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Waking Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1683 by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3946562990/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1683" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3472/3946562990_e16ce1633c.jpg" width="500" height="333" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The first couple weeks of the school year have been completely wonderful and slightly insane. Though I claim all of that insanity for myself. The kids are LOVING school. Personally, it took me about a week to figure out how to manage the new schedule. After the last couple of years with George attending two preschools and Emma being in elementary school, I had gotten very used to getting things done in a very short amount of time. I rarely had more than 45 minutes in my day that were truly kid free, and boy did I maximize the heck out of those 45 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have 6 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As glorious and wonderful as that time is, it took me a while to figure out what that kind of time feels like and how to best use it. The first week of school was spent madly dashing from activity to chore to project. Trying to fit it all in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm easing up on myself now and realizing that there really is enough time to do everything. I have time to breathe and refresh during the day, which is making the afternoons and evenings with the kids much more pleasant. I'm exercising, spending time with friends, spending time in a quiet house, starting to figure out this next phase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And did I mention that the kids are LOVING school? There was a lot to worry about, going into this year. Emma certainly didn't love second grade, and I hoped that she would be able to recapture some of the joy in learning that she lost last year. And George's transition to Kindergarten was filled with the unknown. For both of them, these first weeks have been amazing. Or awesome, to quote Emma. I am so grateful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-8450031990118282083?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/8450031990118282083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=8450031990118282083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/8450031990118282083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/8450031990118282083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/09/waking-up.html' title='Waking Up'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-1452694729945744570</id><published>2009-09-11T07:00:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T07:00:01.484-07:00</updated><title type='text'>11 September</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="boarding the plane by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3908744074/"&gt;&lt;img alt="boarding the plane" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3500/3908744074_1fd442212f.jpg" width="375" height="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Looking forward to the day this photo shows faces instead of backs.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The kids and I handled the summer pretty well, I think. We kept really busy and the time went by quickly. Not to say we weren't missing Jason, but as we have nearly daily contact with him via email, it was managable. He's even able to call home from time to time, so the kids can hear his voice.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The beginning of the school year brings with it milestones, traditions, and the looming of the holiday season. I think this deployment is, all of a sudden, feeling more difficult and lonelier. I hear it in the things Jason says about what he's missing, I hear it in Emma's sigh about daddy-daughter traditions that have been modified, I hear it in George's revived request that I "go get Daddy, come back, okay?", and I hear it in the garbage TV I watch every night to fill the silence at the end of the day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;As of today it's been exactly four months since we put him on an airplane. We're ready for him to come home now, thank you. Missing you this week, J.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="Aug 26, 2008 058 by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3908744236/"&gt;&lt;img alt="Aug 26, 2008 058" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3466/3908744236_487db4234e.jpg" width="500" height="375" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Jason in his office in the desert&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-1452694729945744570?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/1452694729945744570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=1452694729945744570' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/1452694729945744570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/1452694729945744570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/09/11-september.html' title='11 September'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-1283467969760155165</id><published>2009-09-10T08:30:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T08:41:38.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There goes my baby!</title><content type='html'>I'm basically a blubbering idiot right now, so I'll show you the morning in pictures:&lt;br /&gt;My Kindergartner:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1650 by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3906388227/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1650" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2500/3906388227_3c2a310083.jpg" width="333" height="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;My ridiculous children:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1654 by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3906390101/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1654" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2625/3906390101_2f883acac7.jpg" width="500" height="376" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Walking into school (where he was greeted, by name, by the principal and receptionist - man, I love this school):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1658c by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3906397643/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1658c" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3467/3906397643_cc59790bea.jpg" width="500" height="346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Cheesy smile with a friend from preschool:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1661 by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3907171086/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1661" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2588/3907171086_1b5db6353d.jpg" width="500" height="348" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Going into his classroom without ME, WAHHHHHH!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1662 by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3907174104/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1662" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2454/3907174104_f33f823f2f.jpg" width="500" height="333" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Like Emma yesterday, he was completely calm this morning. Accepted all the new bits of routine without question or fuss. Told daddy on the phone all about his teachers and cubby.  When we got to his classroom, we had to wait for several other kids to find their name tag before he could find his and go in.  He waited patiently, no complaining, and then stepped up, grabbed his tag, and walked on in.   No hug, barely a "bye, Mom", like he'd been going to Kindergarten all his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excuse me, I have to go hold his blankie and cry for a bit....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-1283467969760155165?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/1283467969760155165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=1283467969760155165' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/1283467969760155165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/1283467969760155165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/09/there-goes-my-baby.html' title='There goes my baby!'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-6489206803097310066</id><published>2009-09-09T18:04:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T18:09:32.650-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Beauty of 3rd Grade</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1646w by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3904529787/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1646w" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2608/3904529787_0bf8f3572f.jpg" width="333" height="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;She was remarkably calm all morning.  No hint of nerves, just joy in the return to routine. &lt;br /&gt;Walked into class as if only a weekend had passed, not a summer.&lt;br /&gt;Came out five hours later with the same peaceful smile on her face.&lt;br /&gt;She's happy to be back.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;She's a beauty this one.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-6489206803097310066?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/6489206803097310066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=6489206803097310066' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/6489206803097310066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/6489206803097310066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/09/beauty-of-3rd-grade.html' title='The Beauty of 3rd Grade'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-7768790728895638485</id><published>2009-09-05T20:52:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T21:07:16.474-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Class Lists</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="Class Lists by Meg Beverly on DSP" href="http://www.digitalscrapbookplace.com/gallery/data/7376/Class-Lists.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="sweet-music1" src="http://www.digitalscrapbookplace.com/gallery/data/7376/Class-Lists.jpg" width="525" height="525" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Journaling&lt;/span&gt;: I can remember when &lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt; was the kid, running to check out the class lists.And now I have not one, but TWO kids racing each other! Wanting to be the first to find their name. Feeling excitement and nervousness as they go down the line, checking for friends and favorite teachers. I &lt;strong&gt;still&lt;/strong&gt; feel those emotions when the lists are posted! Let the school year begin!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Once again, Emma showed off her big sister skills. She ran to the office window, where the lists are posted each year, with George following quickly behind (though not really knowing why). Instead of heading to the lists of 3rd grade classes, she went directly to the Kindergarten lists and helped George find his name. (Okay, first of all, why can't they be this nice to each other all the time? And second, how the heck am I old enough to have a 3rd grader???)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;As soon as he was set, Emma moved over to find her name and started jumping up and down with excitement when she found it. She has a great teacher and will be classmates with many of her favorite friends. The nerves are definitely setting in and the countdown gets checked several times a day, but I think excitement is the overriding emotion.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;As for George? Well, as I mentioned, he wasn't entirely sure as to why we were going to school unexpectedly. So as we left, he hurridly ran to put the correct magnet on his &lt;a href="http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2008/09/special-exposure-wednesday.html"&gt;activity schedule&lt;/a&gt; and then grabbed his new backpack from it's hook by the stairs. I think he's ready to go!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-7768790728895638485?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/7768790728895638485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=7768790728895638485' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/7768790728895638485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/7768790728895638485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/09/class-lists.html' title='Class Lists'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-4445739589466747226</id><published>2009-08-30T12:32:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T12:36:43.882-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh yuck.</title><content type='html'>I'm not a big fan of teeth. I like them for the purpose they serve, but the whole falling out and leaving bloody gums in their wake? Yeah, not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, as I helped George get ready for bed, I reminded Emma that it was time to do her chores. "Just a minute, Mom, I'm going to pull my tooth out!" Oh yuck. I quickly left the room and sure enough, by the time I came back, she had a bloody tissue in her mouth and a tooth in her hand. Blech. I'll be &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; happy when this growth phase is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1552 by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3871122663/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1552" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3475/3871122663_5853323b99.jpg" width="333" height="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-4445739589466747226?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/4445739589466747226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=4445739589466747226' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/4445739589466747226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/4445739589466747226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/08/oh-yuck.html' title='Oh yuck.'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-9215995797791842255</id><published>2009-08-29T15:40:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T15:54:21.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boys &amp; Water</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1549 w by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3869029860/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1549 w" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2603/3869029860_e1a936d502.jpg" width="500" height="333" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Yes, our water bill may be a touch high this month, but when an active boy can find fun in water, dish soap, and a variety of plastic bowls for over an hour, I am all for it. Even if he does hate to get even a drop of water on his clothes and therefore, removes them as they get wet. Leaving me with a very clean sink (and counter and floor) and many very Internet-inappropriate images on my camera's memory card. &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I was going to write a nice long post about Autism and sensory issues. But, see that late summer sun coming in through the window? I'm going to go enjoy it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-9215995797791842255?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/9215995797791842255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=9215995797791842255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/9215995797791842255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/9215995797791842255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/08/boys-water.html' title='Boys &amp; Water'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-3556760653371268565</id><published>2009-08-26T13:59:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T14:26:38.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Talent Wasted</title><content type='html'>All summer, we have had several therapists (or tutors, as this particular program calls them) come into our house every weekday to work with George. They have been wonderful with him and he has so enjoyed "playing" with them. They have worked on his writing and cutting skills, how to correctly hold a pencil, categorizing, letter sounds, reciprocal conversation, and they have taught him his full name, phone number, address, school &amp;amp; teacher name, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has learned so much and is just soaking up every little thing they try with him. By watching them work with him, I learn ways to teach him, too. (He learned his phone number within five minutes when they let him use a cell phone to call our home phone, which they would then answer. Instant association and gratification! Why didn't I think of that?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, we said a very tearful good-bye to his favorite tutor. She had the most contact with him, and the most success. She was willing to be playful with him, but kept him at his assigned task, not letting him off the hook if he whined and cheering him when he would finish. He would ask for her by name on the days they didn't meet, and seeing her face on his daily activity schedule was a sure way to get him to move along in the mornings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1540 c by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3860334784/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1540 c" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2554/3860334784_15e611bb22.jpg" width="360" height="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Two weeks ago, she gave notice to the organization that we work with and after today's session with George, she got into a U-haul and headed up the freeway. I'd love to say that she's found a terrific opportunity that will utilize her skills. That she'll be working with even more children who need someone like her. That she'll be changing more lives the way she's changed ours. Unfortunately, I can't say any of those things. She's moving two hours away, back to her home town... to sell insurance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She can't afford to live on the money she makes working here. The organization that employed her can't afford to give her enough hours or pay her enough for her to pay her rent. The organization that exists to help children like mine that need a little (or a lot) of help beyond what school can provide can't afford to pay their employees a living wage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So instead of being a lifeline to kids and parents, instead of changing their lives, she will be selling them insurance. She doesn't want to and many tears were shed by everyone involved when she made that decision. But she ran out of choices. She waved good-bye with tears running down her face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is something very wrong with that. No, I'm not bitter, why do you ask?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-3556760653371268565?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/3556760653371268565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=3556760653371268565' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/3556760653371268565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/3556760653371268565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/08/talent-wasted.html' title='Talent Wasted'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-6219246781526407184</id><published>2009-08-22T08:51:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T09:18:10.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'>By the end, I couldn't feel my legs...</title><content type='html'>All year, Emma looks forward to one particular week. As soon as that week is over, she begins the countdown to the next one. The week of the County Fair. In our house, it is a Big Deal. She can easily spend hours in the animal barns, is very willing to go through the art &amp;amp; baking exhibits, and isn't too pushy about going on rides. All in all, a very good fair-going companion!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, we discovered something else (or rather, had it reinforced): Emma is a very good big sister. For the first time, we decided to take George with us to the Fair on the day that they have unlimited rides for a set fee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1523w by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3845826648/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1523w" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2666/3845826648_2acf3981a6.jpg" width="333" height="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;We had no idea how he would handle it. The Fair is a LOUD place, there is a lot of WAITING in line involved, it is usually HOT, and sometimes you have to SHARE the seat. Guess which things can be troublesome for George?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, while the Fair was setting up in previous weeks, we drove by and George said, "I want to go on Roller Coaster." Okay dude, if you're going to use a full sentence, completely unprompted, I'm going to honor it. So, we went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it was awesome. SIX FULL HOURS of awesome. George was fairly wide-eyed and quiet at first, taking it all in. Emma took him by the hand and excitedly suggested several rides to go on. By the end of the second ride, they were in cahoots and took off running for the ROLLER COASTER! A small roller coaster, but still!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1492 by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3845024691/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1492" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2672/3845024691_1d85f3ba91.jpg" width="500" height="333" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;From then on, he knew what to do and it was non-stop until we left. I even got to go on a couple!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1503w by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3845026989/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1503w" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2512/3845026989_6449ec9efb.jpg" width="396" height="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;His favorite ride was the blue, slightly larger, VERY LOUD roller coaster. He kept his hands on his ears the entire ride, but loved every minute. This was the only time we had any problems, but only because he would get frustrated by waiting in line. He would come racing off as soon as the ride attendent released him, run down the stairs and back round to the entrance. Sometimes he could get right back on, but often there was a line. And George does not like lines. But we dealt with it. And got back on. Approximately 102 times. Approximately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1514 by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3845822774/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1514" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3453/3845822774_d4060b5928.jpg" width="500" height="333" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;And then we ate wonderfully nutricious food. Yum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1539 by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3845043011/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1539" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2517/3845043011_93c5dc7de6.jpg" width="333" height="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1537 by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3845038691/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1537" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2613/3845038691_46d6386350.jpg" width="500" height="333" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;It was all so much more fun than I had hoped for. And now there is one more thing that we know George can handle. I'm starting to wonder what he &lt;em&gt;can't&lt;/em&gt; handle, something to think about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-6219246781526407184?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/6219246781526407184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=6219246781526407184' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/6219246781526407184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/6219246781526407184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/08/by-end-i-couldnt-feel-my-legs.html' title='By the end, I couldn&apos;t feel my legs...'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-1596533754124707538</id><published>2009-08-18T13:07:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T13:17:31.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Music</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="Sweet Music by Meg Beverly on DSP" href="http://www.digitalscrapbookplace.com/gallery/data/518/sweet-music1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="sweet-music1" src="http://www.digitalscrapbookplace.com/gallery/data/518/sweet-music1.jpg" width="525" height="525" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Journaling:&lt;br /&gt;Sweet Music - Via an amazing gift from Grandma Sharon &amp;amp; Papa Ray.I am so grateful to our Beverly family. Two incredible grandparents that gave us their piano. One musician brother-in-law who is always available with advice on how to encourage Emma’s natural ability without pushing too hard. Now, beautiful music drifts upstairs to me every day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;*************&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Emma shares Jason's ability to "play by ear"; after hearing a song, she can reproduce it fairly quickly on a keyboard or piano.  She also composes amazingly complicated songs, using both hands properly with chords or other harmony in the bass clef.  She astounds me with her skill and I love that she chooses to play music almost daily.  Adam, my brother-in-law, has advised us to let her explore on her own without lessons for now.  She is the type (profectionist, hard on herself) that could easily shut down and give up if she feels she's not playing correctly.  My opinion: if she's making music that pleases her, she's doing it correctly!  And I reap the lovely benefits!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-1596533754124707538?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/1596533754124707538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=1596533754124707538' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/1596533754124707538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/1596533754124707538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/08/sweet-music.html' title='Sweet Music'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-8050243320788114262</id><published>2009-08-17T15:13:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T15:35:24.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crawling toward the end of summer</title><content type='html'>Are your kids bored like mine? Well, just hand them a 24 pack of new pencils and a pencil sharpener! Guaranteed to provide at least 24 minutes of quiet fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_1470 by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3831793440/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_1470" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3545/3831793440_45ccabcbe6.jpg" width="333" height="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Also, yes, that IS a movable, circular train bridge you see in the foreground! Brilliant idea, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obviously, we're knee deep in Thomas the Tank Engine again these days. Just when I was starting to think that it was time to box everything up, &lt;strong&gt;everything&lt;/strong&gt; came back out. And I do mean everything.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="IMG_0916 by Meg Beverly, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/megbeverly/3830998615/"&gt;&lt;img alt="IMG_0916" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2674/3830998615_72726d6188.jpg" width="500" height="375" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This photo was taken by George. The books and trains are propped up on the entertainment center, in front of the TV which was playing a Thomas DVD (more can be seen below, resting on the DVD player). The trains are out, the books are out, the DVDs are in constant rotation, Thomas activity books are a favorite, we're even listening to Thomas audio books in the van. Luckily, Thomas is fairly likable and there are so many stories, that I don't have to hear/watch/read the same ones too often. And George relates to/interacts with them differently now that he's more verbal. I love how he "discusses" the story lines with me, really dissecting the emotions and actions. THIS is why we rarely throw out old favorite toys and such, they almost always cycle back through and serve a new purpose.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;AND, as a super bonus, I found a discarded train table on the side of the road a couple of weeks ago. These can run anywhere from $80-200, so I was never willing to buy one. But, thanks to a ton of sanding and a bit of spray paint (thanks, Papa!), it's looking wonderful and will move into George's room this week!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-8050243320788114262?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/8050243320788114262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=8050243320788114262' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/8050243320788114262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/8050243320788114262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/08/crawling-toward-end-of-summer.html' title='Crawling toward the end of summer'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25897608.post-4826335038953963679</id><published>2009-08-02T20:40:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T20:49:58.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too busy to breathe</title><content type='html'>How is it that I used to complain about summer being too long and too boring? We have been moving and doing non-stop. Relatives rotating through town, record heat locking us to the slip 'n slide, summer school &amp;amp; therapies keeping every day full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many things to share, but I'm in the middle of a huge project. One picture that's being used in that project made me laugh out loud when I saw it, so I thought I'd put it up here for your viewing pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 253px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365578861620790674" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qy9Vkib7ev8/SnZdi-1AhZI/AAAAAAAAAI0/gx8h51qaFGw/s400/_Scan10018.JPG" /&gt;Supposedly, that's me in the middle of two of my cousins, Molly &amp;amp; Sarah. But I would &lt;em&gt;swear&lt;/em&gt; that it's really Emma wearing 70's clothing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;More soon, I promise!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25897608-4826335038953963679?l=thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/feeds/4826335038953963679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25897608&amp;postID=4826335038953963679' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/4826335038953963679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25897608/posts/default/4826335038953963679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepagesofourcrazylife.blogspot.com/2009/08/too-busy-to-breathe.html' title='Too busy to breathe'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02964991488139631856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10060254896383248371'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qy9Vkib7ev8/SnZdi-1AhZI/AAAAAAAAAI0/gx8h51qaFGw/s72-c/_Scan10018.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry></feed>