All in all, it's just another day now...

{these days}

...These days, I am obsessed- OBSESSED- with the musical Hamilton. I will be close to menopause before tickets are available, as it is currently sold out through most of 2016. But, in the meantime, the soundtrack has been on in a near-constant loop. It's such a blindingly brilliant piece of work- the writing, the music, and the story telling. I am not a history buff by any means and find myself riveted by this story of an immigrant who became one of the founding fathers of our country. I can not encourage you enough to listen to the cast album and learn this incredible story. The writing makes me feel like I should walk away from my keyboard and never look back- it's equal parts inspiring and frustrating. You will not be mad at me if you take my advice on this.

...These days, we are getting a break from the non-stop activity of the first two months of school. Both soccer and hockey have ended, leaving us with therapy three days a week and cheer for one. Over-scheduling ourselves to such an extent was not my best move. More often than not, PJ was overwrought and unable to control his body. Hockey, for example, was a hot mess. Now, we have a free week night and open weekends for a bit and I am going to enjoy the peace.

...These days, I keep looking forward to crisp, cold weather, only to be thwarted by Mother Nature and her mid 70's muggy nonsense. I love each season, but loathe the transitional period between. Is consistent Uggs and sweatshirt weather too much to ask? No. It is not.

This baby is going to be six. What the hell???????
...These days, I am wracking my brain trying to make a decision on what to do for PJ's birthday party. The timing issue has reached critical mass, so I need to get moving.

...These days, keeping up with housework is an impossible task. The only thing that keeps this place from descending into full chaos is the fact that we have therapists in this house at least two days a week! That means that about 40 minutes before someone is set to arrive, I fly around the apartment like a psycho trying to make up for a full day of ignoring messes. Keeping house is one of the very many ways that I fail at adulting. Killing bugs, wearing makeup, controlling my smart mouth and the fact that I think Boone's Wine is good are some of the other ways.

...These days, I think about how far PJ has come since we started therapy with a new agency in the spring. He is still prone to behavior issues, but we are slowly chipping away at them as his verbal skills continue to grow. He learned my phone number in one day. If God forbid a million times over that he ever get away from me, he can tell someone helping him how to reach me. Today, we were walking to the car after school and he greeted a classmate with no prompting whatsoever. A week or two ago, he played with friends after school, laughing and running with his peers as I blinked back tears. It's tiny steps, tiny steps, tiny steps, always. The finish line seems so far away sometimes (not that you ever really hit a finish line when you're a parent, right? These beings are just always our babies.) but we kind of shuffle along as best we can. It's the little moments, good and bad, that really propel us along and these particular ones happened to be sweet.

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