This Week vs. Last Week: Perspectives

I have to say, when it comes to husbands, I'm very blessed.  BEYOND blessed.  Recognizing how badly last week went for me, Shawn was quick to help me out this week.  God bless the dear man, he did his best to make sure I got plenty of Me Time.  He's probably afraid of having to permanently admit me to a hospital and raise our lovable little hellions on his own.  :)  I have to laugh when I hear my grandmother's recent words echoing in my head.  She was commenting on how good Shawn is as a dad and a husband, how quick he is with his 'duties' and how much he loves his family.  We were talking about how they just don't make daddies and husbands like they used to (thank you, God!).  Then she said, "I just don't know how you got so lucky!" I love my grandmother dearly and I had to laugh at her word choice and voice intonation.  I know that wasn't how she meant it, but lately, I have been thinking to myself--how on earth did I get so lucky???  Like most couples, we have our moments, but it's seldom us against each other, it's almost always us against the rest of the world (and on some nights, us against the children!).

We've been short-staffed this week at the ministry center I volunteer with, so when I was offered some work to do on Shawn's WFH day, he helped me jump at the chance, keeping the boys home with him and teasing me to not spin gravel in the driveway on my way out.  I always do better when I have a chance to think outside of myself.  Avery has been running fevers on and off this week (double ear infections, hell-o, Mommy!), one of the days on my usual Thursday volunteer day.  While I showered, contemplating either trying to get a sick toddler past the daycare teachers (wrong, wrong, WRONG!) or taking Avery with me long enough to throw the food on the counter and the quiche in the oven for someone else to take out, Shawn came in to tell me he'd called in sick to stay home with Avery.  He'd decided my non-paying, volunteer job was more important that morning.   Shawn also made sure I made it to Ladies, Legs and Lattes this morning:  girl time with my two good friends for pedicures and coffee, which I am seldom able to do.   Earlier in the week, he asked if it would be easier for me if he started taking Noah to his horseback riding lessons, but I said that I don't mind.  It took me a few hours, replaying the conversation a few times, to realize it was his way of telling me he wanted to do it.  I realized he needs to see his son doing something happy and successful. So, we're going to do it the way we do everything else:  As a family.  How can I not love him?!

I was also able to sit down and talk with one of my good friends and fellow staffers at our ministry center about the GriefShare class we offer.  I fully recognize that I am grieving the loss of my grandfather.  It's difficult; some days are better than others.  What I haven't been able to recognize is that I need to take this class.  I've taken it before, so I've been telling myself that I don't need it because I already know everything (and I wonder where Noah gets it from).  Well, sometimes we all need a refresher course.  So, I'm at the "talking about taking the class" stage.  Trying to figure out how to fit it in with doctors appointments, OT, playgroups and everything else.  Trying to figure out what to do with my lovable little hellions.  Yes, I am fully aware of the phrase, "where there's a will, there's a way."   Let me talk about taking it for a few more weeks.  This is me working up to it to doing more than talking about it.

My appointment with my neurologist was a little frustrating.  He wanted to increase the prednisone (for those of you have never been on it, it's a great little wonder drug, but the side effects can often be worse than what ails you) and I begged him not to.  It has turned me from a slight, run-of-the-mill lunatic into a stark, raving mad lunatic.  And it's made me very hungry. In case he wasn't getting my point, I said, "Gee, your office chair looks yummy."  "So we're not increasing the prednisone?"  No, Dr O, we're not increasing the prednisone.  He also wants to do a full body and brain scan, which amounts to a fishing expedition and since I am not a fisher-woman, I declined for the time being.  More blood work and the usual "Keep hanging in there!"  *sigh*  Funny thing about being a stark, raving mad lunatic.  I recently had someone comment on how emotional I've been and ask if I could be pregnant.  I did my best to be nice, I really did.  I tried to remember the source, I really did.  Then I just blew a gasket on the poor soul and reminded the person that I am on chemo and prednisone (among other serious medications), I just had my child diagnosed with AS, we're still searching for more answers and solutions for him and oh yes, my grandfather also died.  NO, I AM NOT PREGNANT!  FORGIVE ME IF I'M A BIT EMOTIONAL RIGHT NOW!  *ahem*

Shawn and I are talking about marriage counseling.  Not because we desperately need it or because we're in dire straights:  But because we don't want to get to that point.  Did you know the survival rate for a marriage with a child on the spectrum is only 25%?  When the divorce rate in this country is already 50% and Autism in the family increases the chance by another 25%, that's really, really scary.  We've already survived a lot and we just want to make sure we have the tools to survive the rest of what's thrown at us ( if you can dodge a wrench....   Quick!  Ten points to the person who gets that completely out of left field movie reference!!!!).  This is us providing not just for our future, but our family's future, too.  We want to make sure it's always us against the world.  Shawn asked me if I thought our marriage was "that bad" that we need counseling and it surprised me.  We have our ups and downs, but I've never thought of it as "that bad."  I told him no, I just want to make sure it doesn't get "that bad."  It's scary to think about.

Our church's children's ministry put on a spectacular multi-sensory event last night titled, "Journey to the Cross" for the families, which we went to together.  There is an upcoming baptism class for the children that Noah is interested in (my heart is dancing!), so we really made Noah think about each room we entered, really peppered him with questions and didn't settle for the usual "I don't know."  We wanted him to THINK about what Jesus did for us.  Even though Avery wasn't feeling well, he seemed to enjoy being out, then we had a good time on the drive home, too.

I was able to talk with some of the other moms in Noah's social skills class today, too.  That was extremely helpful for me.  I'm always picking other people's brains to find out what has worked for their children and what hasn't.  Shawn and I tried attending a local autism support group and while it was good for us, we felt like intruders.  Noah is on the very mild end of things and these parents had a lot more issues than we will ever deal with.  Talking with these other parents today in our own little impromptu support group was good for me.

And best of all, Asperger's did not leave me lonely on the hour trip to Noah's social skills class today, like it normally does.  Instead, Noah and I had one of our deep talks that I enjoy so much and always hope for (prompted by him!).  It was his turn to pepper me with questions.  He always has such good ones and I love these talks with him.  They connect us as mother and son and get me through until the next rare occasion.

Sooo...  Perspectives.  This is my lesson for the week.  These storms may pass, but unfortunately, there will always be more.  These are the storms in which we learn to dance.  Not to hide, not to put up umbrellas, not to curl up in the fetal position and cry (no matter how badly I want to).  It may not be a graceful or beautiful dance, but it is one we make our OWN.  We learn to take the hands of our loved ones and DANCE OUR HEARTS OUT, no matter who is watching (it just might be our children, this just might be a teaching moment...).  I don't know how I got so lucky, but I do know that if weren't for the storms, I wouldn't know how to dance.  Amen?  A-MEN.