Two Months

Usually I get to Fridays and think "Whew!  I survived another week!  Yay me!"  Most of the time, we pass through weeks and months without realizing how much--or how little--time has gone by.

It's been different for me this summer, though.  Weeks have passed into months and now it's here again.  Another "anniversary."  I often wonder why we use that word to mark time.  It's a celebratory word, meant to mark happy occasions.  Sometimes though, we use it to mark the time that has passed since a major life event, as in a death that has occurred (the chaplain I work with explained that we use it for lack of something different, more explicable).

Today marks two months since A's death, along with the deaths of two other teenagers and the serious injuries of two more in the car accident.   I was going through my morning routine, then I wrote a check and asked Shawn for the date.  "July 31," he told me.  What?  Wait--that means today is....  Then I started crying during Praise and Worship in church and 'leaked' through the rest of church.  During certain parts of today's message, I sobbed quietly with more ache than I've allowed myself to feel in a very long time.

I think some of us--myself definitely included--are still trying to find reasons for the tragedy; we're still dealing with it on a daily basis.  For some of us, it might be a while before we're not dealing with it on a daily basis.  I miss A terribly.  My heart doesn't ache so much as it just plain hurts.  If I'm feeling this way, I can't imagine what the parents of those five children are still going through.  I pray I never find out.

Some days it's only in the back of my mind.  I don't cry every day now, only when something hits me.  Other days, it's front and center.  A isn't here anymore.  I hold my own children a little closer on those days.  I say a few more prayers than usual.  I whisper a few more "I love you"'s into sleeping ears on  those nights.  I feel it more on Thursdays at the center, where I leave quickly before it gets to be too much.  I also feel it more on Sundays at church; I'd stop going to avoid that too, but I know that's where the healing is (as it is at the center) and I know I need to face it at some point.

Until then, until I can find the healing, this is the moment I'm concentrating on:  It was the last official youth event I was chaperoning at our old church.  I'd just found out I was finally pregnant and I was no longer feeling like a good fit with the youth ministry (funny enough, A and our other adult chaperone were the only ones who knew about my pregnancy:  A had guessed by my behavior, based on the prayers we'd been offering up).   I was down by the small lake watching the teens who wanted to be in the boats and canoes.  I'd taken my camera with me because I was always looking for photographic opportunities.  I looked out across the water and there was A, by herself in a canoe.  She wasn't paddling, just lazing along, enjoying the moment with her eyes closed and a thoughtful look on her face.  I still wonder what she was thinking; I never asked because I didn't think she'd want to know I'd been studying her so closely:  I didn't want to make her self conscious.  Maybe she wasn't thinking anything, maybe she was just enjoying a moment made just for her by God Himself.  I also figured it was a private moment and teens need those private moments.  They'll talk to someone they trust when they're ready (you just have to give them a trustworthy person).  Unfortunately, the picture didn't turn out as well as I had hoped, but I still have the memory it serves.

A, I hope you know how much you are missed down here.  I know your work was done here on Earth and that you're more than okay now.  I love you, Sweetie.

Maternal Instinct: Don't Knock It!

Avery woke up sick this morning.  Unfortunately, no one (*ahem* Shawn) agreed with me.  Avery was burning hot, but not registering a fever.  I'd gotten up with him several times in the night when he called for me and I'd heard him coughing throughout the night.  Avery just wasn't acting like himself, either:  He wasn't busy destroying the house and telling me to get my butt in the air (thank you Tony Horton and P90X); instead, he was unusually agreeable and snuggly.  He was refusing to eat or drink and wasn't fighting me on any part of our morning schedule.  Something was wrong with my baby! 

Unfortunately, the only doctor on call at our pediatrician's office is the one I can't stand.  I've seriously taken my kids to the ER and Urgent Care before to avoid this woman.  The earliest appointment I could get with a different doctor was tomorrow afternoon.  I was still questioning my judgement of how sick he was. I've taken both of my kids in before, swearing up and down they were sick, only to be told they were just fine.

I watched Avery become more and more lethargic.  Then he didn't just ask for his nap, he asked for it an hour and a half early.  Then he napped for an unheard of four hours.  Yes, something was definitely wrong with my baby!

I finally made the decision to go to the Urgent Care center, only to discover they no longer accept our insurance.  From there we went to an on-call facility, where a very kind nurse took one look at my two year old draped across my shoulder and worked her magic to fit us in.

Forty-five minutes later, we finally had a verdict:  STREP.   

I hate it when I'm right.

Watching Noah Grow Up....

Noah and Shawn just returned from their second summer away at Boy Scout Camp.  After the way things went last year, my dear husband honestly was looking for a way out of his chaperoning duties this year.  He loves to camp--he could even live outside quite easily for the rest of his life--but he wasn't too sure about everything else involved in the week.  Only three boys attended from our tiny pack this year, but with the dynamics of those three boys (Noah included), it might as well have been a classroom full of preschoolers.

Fortunately, every update I received about Noah was about how mature he was acting, how well-behaved he was, how responsible he was and how agreeable he was.  Shawn complimented our son on his positive attitude, his willingness to get along, and his understanding of teamwork.   Even better, Noah passed his swimming test with flying colors, finally earning his Aquanaut pin!  This was huge, simply because Noah refused to even get in the water last year. The first email I received from Shawn made me think twice:  Was this really the same child I'd sent off into the wild blue yonder?!


Noah also updated his haircut while he was at camp (he's now sporting a very stylish mohawk, which is apparently some sort of ritual at BSA camp; he's finally found an advantage to homeschooling:  No dress code!) and found a new "necktie" out in the wild....

I'm so proud of Noah and his camp accomplishments.  He was given more freedom and the chance to make his own choices this year.  Shawn said he seldom questioned Noah's judgement and did his best to allow Noah the freedom the program was giving the boys this year.  Noah is now just one pin away from earning his Arrow of Light, along with several other big accomplishments on his horizon.  Before we know it, we'll be "troop-shopping" as he graduates from Cub Scouts!

We have also finally, officially tied up the loose ends of fourth grade for Noah.  He passed his standardized test with a 92, which put him above average for his grade level.  He also passed his entrance exams for Liberty University Online Academy (the online homeschooling program we'll be using this year) with flying colors, receiving scores that his guidance counselor suggested they don't normally see.  Noah is rather proud of his accomplishments, as are Shawn and I!  And I suppose it's proof I really can teach fourth grade after all....  We've chosen LUOA for fifth grade (and if all goes well, the rest of his years also) because I think it will give us both the structure and accountability we need in the homeschooling world.  I have to say, we're also fortunate with the two new families who have moved into our little court:  One mom has homeschooled her youngest child from the beginning and the other gentleman happens to be a fifth grade teacher!  I'm not going to be shy about asking for help from either one of them, should the need arise!  God has been busy working His own little miracles here in our neighborhood....   I'm excited about all the new opportunities Noah will have and how the world just seems to be opening up to him.  He's a bright kid, usually a good kid (they all have their moments....) and he's doing very well.

I'm still not sure I'm comfortable with the dose of Paxil he's on.  Some days it seems to work, other days it doesn't seem to have any effect at all.  I'm trying very hard to distinguish between his learned behaviors (the ones we've allowed) and the behaviors the Paxil should be helping with.  I would still also like to see him try a non-stimulant for school work, just to see if it helps him with his concentration and other problem areas during the day.

I'm incredibly proud of Noah and his many achievements over the past six months.  It's been a wild, bumpy ride, but he's proven he's up to the challenge.  He's genuinely trying harder and making great efforts with everything he puts his mind to.  There are days he drives me nuts and I wonder how parents with more autism in their lives handle it, but his recent maturity has given me more hope than I had before.  We're going to survive this:  Asperger's, homeschooling and anything else thrown our way.

"There's Poop in There"

There are many joys to raising a two year old.  The beginning stages of potty training are just one of them!

Avery has added two new phrases to his ever-growing vocabulary--"There's poop in there," and "Let me check."  There are times, as a parent, you know really shouldn't laugh at your child's antics, but you also really can't help yourself.  Laughing is only part of it.  I'm also proud of him.  He's actually learning when he has a messy diaper and identifying that he doesn't like it, which is good, in the grand scheme of things (how soon can we stop buying diapers????).  What he's also showing are new parts to his personality--a deadpan, sarcastic personality.  It's fun to watch him grow, but there are times I'm not sure this is the direction I want him to take, especially at such a young age!

It started a few days before his two year well check.  I smelled something amiss, told him he needed a clean diaper and took his hand to lead him back to his room for a diaper change.  He proudly announced, "There's poop in there, Mommy!"  Okay, so it was funny the first couple times.  The next time I smelled something yucky, I asked him if there was poop in there.  He pulled his pants and diaper away from his belly and said, "Let me check."  Oh my gosh.

A few days later, we were at his well check.  Again, let me state that we are blessed with a pediatrician with a wonderful sense of humor.  She thought she'd seen it all and heard it all--until she met my boys.  She was going through the routine exam, talking to Avery the whole time (remember, this is the child who let out the uh, long-winded "exclamation" at his last well check while she sat back and asked if he was finished yet....).  She got to the diaper check and asked if she could look in his diaper.  Completely dead-pan, my son gave her The Eyebrows and announced, "There's poop in there," (there wasn't), as if to say, "Enter at your own risk, lady."  Thankfully, our doctor burst into laughter and almost had difficulty finishing the exam because she kept breaking into giggles.

Now, whenever someone has gas, if his diaper is full, or if he barges in on some poor, unsuspecting soul in the bathroom--and sometimes even just for the heck of it--he announces, "There's poop in there."  Never excitedly, always matter-of-factly.

So, I have to ask.....  is there poop in there?  Let me check.....       

Teaching Noah the Value of Self-Empowerment

Last week my Mommy Panties got twisted into a big old bunch.  It's taken me a while to un-bunch them.  I'm actually still kind of working on it!

Noah went to day camp last week and at parent pick-up one afternoon, I was approached by one of the staff members, whom I've known for a while.  This person and I talked for a few minutes, joked around and then this person said to me, "You know, Noah has a real listening problem."  Screeeeech.  Everything came to a sliding halt and my vision turned red.  I had to count to ten more than once and take more than a few deep breaths (probably enough to make this person question whether or not I also have a listening problem) before I was able to respond.  First I asked if it was a safety concern.  No, not really; well, maybe a little.  Okay, then.  Then I took a few more deep breaths before informing this person that my son does not in fact have a listening problem.  What he does have is an auditory processing difficulty due to Asperger's Syndrome and because of that, you cannot treat or discipline Noah the same way you do the other children.  Without pausing to take a breath (lest I lose this person's attention due to this person's listening problem), I then went on to explain some ways that they could help Noah at this camp.  For example, you cannot yell at Noah from across the field and expect him to pay attention to you or process what you are telling him.  You have make an issue out of eye contact with Noah and have him repeat back exactly what you just told him, then give an example.  And even after that, chances are still good he's going to go right back to doing what you told him not to do.  It's a repetitive process that requires patience on everyone's part.  This person had turned glassy-eyed at this point and "hrrmph'd" off.

That night, I questioned Noah about his day, eventually getting around to the real question--had anyone that day told him he had a listening problem?  He said no, but admitted there were a few times he had difficulties processing what was going on.  Let me just say, I'm proud of Noah for being able to say that.  I talked to him a little more (without giving details) and told him that it is up to him to own Asperger's instead of allowing Asperger's to own him and run his life.  We talked about what that means: That he is control of his life with God's help not matter what is thrown his way and it's up to him to make the best of it.  I explained that it is perfectly acceptable for him to respectfully say to someone, "I have Asperger's Syndrome and sometimes I don't process what is being said to me or what's going on around me very well because of it.  This is one of those times.  Could you please slow down and help me?"  Then we talked about some ways that he can tell others how they can help him.  The most important part of this conversation was for Noah to tell me how other people can help him.  I don't have AS, I'm not living his life, so I can't tell him what to tell people.  I can give him ideas based off the parent books I've read, but that's it, the rest is up to him.  Noah did well, coming up with some very good ideas.  I also want to stress with Noah that this is an explanation, not an excuse.  I never want him to think he falls into the category of "cannot's" because of AS--better yet, it helps him fall into the category of "can do's."  I will never allow Noah to use AS as an excuse. Yes, he might have to work harder towards some things at times, but he is a smart boy and he will do well.

This is a conversation I will need to have with Noah over and over until it sticks.  He can be a mouthy little boy at times, but he's never been comfortable standing up for himself.  That is one thing I pray when I for Noah: that he will have the courage to stand up for himself and to use his words wisely when speaking to others.

Rules of Life According to the Furrs

Sometimes I just have to laugh at life (otherwise I'd be a puddle on the floor), so I came up with these rules to remind myself to laugh a little more often.

1.  Never pass up the chance to play in a puddle.








2.  Bloom where you are planted.  
I kill this plant every summer.  Shawn bought it for me four years ago and inevitably, I forget to water it.  I also forget to plant it.  Noah or I find it at the beginning of every spring yelling, "I WANT TO LIIIIIIVE!" wherever we tossed it aside at the end of the previous summer.  




3.  Never pass up a back massage. 

4.  Always find a soft, comfy and safe place to lay your head.

5.  Just because it looks greener (quieter, more fun, cleaner, less cluttered, child-less....) on the other side (outside), doesn't mean it's better.     

6.  Always take the time for a nice, hot, relaxing bubble bath to ease your worn out body.

7.  Walk softly (or loudly, depending on your preference) and carry a big stick.

8.  Accessorize always.  That's a "must" no matter who you are.

9.  Enjoy your food.

10.  Take the time to be chauffeured.

11.  Fight for a cause.

12.  Always use the Buddy System.

13.  Love well, love much and love often.

14.  Believe in God and believe in yourself.

15.  Make friends no matter where you go.

16.  Play with your children and pets.  If you can combine the two activities, it helps save time for other things (like cleaning, cooking, paying bills, writing your blog....).

17.  Respect your elders and remember where you came from.

18.  Take the time to appreciate God's beauty.

19.  Do your schoolwork.  It makes you smarter.

20.  Prioritize.  

21.  Remember to laugh.

22.  Remind your husband that next time he complains about the state of the house, he's welcome to clean it himself.

23.  Be loyal.

24.  Teach your children well.  

And last, but certainly not least...

25.  Never, ever apologize for who you are (or who your children are).  Learn to roll with it.

As in, when your son loudly announces in the middle of a restaurant that his penis is stuck to his leg, then proceeds to stick his hand down his pants to adjust himself, roll your eyes to the rest of the customers and say, "Asperger's!  What are you going to do?!"

(Aren't you glad there isn't a picture accompanying this one?!)

"Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!"  --Hunter S. Thompson

Revelations from the Kitchen Floor: Listening When God Speaks

I have a confession to make:  I only clean my floors once in a blue moon (I know, you're shocked).  Maybe if I was disciplined to clean more often, I'd be disciplined to listen to God a little better!  

I made "the trip" to my primary care doctor the other day.  The one I never wanted to have to make ever again:  The one to ask for anti-depressants.  This was just as difficult as asking Noah's doctor for medication for him and for painkillers for myself.  But, it's time.  2011 has slammed me (our entire family, but I seem to be taking it the hardest).  My kids hate me; well, at least they hate what this anger and depression have done to me.  I'm angry all the time, deeply depressed, nasty to my family, unhappy, not sleeping well, behind in everything that needs to be done, grieving and just plain overwhelmed--and that's just the tip of the iceberg.  Fortunately, I am able to recognize the signs for what they are (having been down this deep, dark hole before) and realized it was time to seek help.  I laid it all out for my doctor, she handed me tissues and said she could see why I was there.  I walked out with a prescription and we'll see how this stuff works.

This morning I was scrubbing my kitchen floor and I got thinking (listening)--what if the lesson I'm supposed to learn through everything that has happened this year is how to take care of myself and how to be taken care of, to take a hiatus of sorts from taking care of everyone else (obviously my family is exempt from this; I can't stop being a wife and a mom)?  I'm just always so BUSY for everyone else that I don't have time for my family, or more importantly lately, myself.  Part of the busy-ness is so I don't have to face what I'm really going through and feeling.  It hurts too much.  When the dam finally breaks, I don't know where I'll be, who I'll be with or even who I'll be when I'm finished.

I don't know what this message means quite yet.  I need to pray more and listen more.  I do know that part of taking care of myself means going to the hospital center out of state after all.  Even if my doctors aren't right about this place, I owe it to myself and my family to find out what is really going on in my body and part of that search starts at this hospital center.  I also know it means I need to start taking my friends up on their offers to help with my boys and anything else they want to do.  I need to start listening better to the voice of my training, to my own advice and to The Word.  When my dear husband offers to kick me out of the house, I should just run instead of telling him I don't have anywhere to go.   I don't know if it means taking a break from the center I volunteer with. There is a danger in ministry of becoming so empty that you have nothing left to give and you just dry up.  I used to be so excited about my work at the center that I would start planning my menu days in advance.  Recently, it gets to be Wednesday night and I realize I still haven't prepared anything for the next day.  I still love my work there and I absolutely love the people, but I've been lacking the inspiration I need to prepare my food.  This is the work that identifies who I am outside of being a SAHM.  This is the work that gives me a break away from my family, brings joy to my life and makes me feel worthy.  This work is what centers my life.  This center is my home away from home.  Certainly God doesn't mean for me to give this up in the process of learning how to take care of myself?  It just sounds so selfish--stop doing for others and do for myself.  It would take some getting used to.

As I said, I need to pray more about this.  I also need to talk with the chaplain I work with.  She is a very wise mentor to me and I trust her guidance.  I don't know where God is leading me, but I do know I can't keep going like this.