Avery's World

Avery is very much right in the middle of being two.  We are here to serve him, entertain him, clean up after him, and least of all (in his opinion), teach him.  His world revolves around HIM.  We get such a kick out of the things he says (most of the time), which is why Shawn and I woke up laughing at 6 am Sunday morning.

We heard his crib bump against the wall we share, sounding the inevitable bounce that means our youngest is awake and ready to go.  Then we heard him call out to us.  Usually it's something like, "Daddd-eeee!  I'm up!  You come get me now!"  or "I'm stuck in here! Come get me out!"

What we heard instead has kept us cracking up ever since:  "I want my hot coffee now!  Bring my hot coffee!  I'm ready for my hot coffee!"

What, does he think this is a bed and breakfast????  It certainly isn't The Ritz!  I'm surprised he didn't demand a scone and a newspaper, also!

Homework

A few weeks ago, Noah had some homework that gave me great trouble.  He had to choose a family member and find out ten things about that person.  He desperately wanted to use my father for this assignment, but knowing that I would not be able to give him what he was looking for, Shawn and I did our very best to redirect him.

"What about Grandma?  You never got to meet her, either."
"Nah, I hear about her all the time.  I already know a lot about her."

"Okay, how about Nanny?  Great Nanny?  Denny?"
"No, I get to talk with Nanny and Great Nanny.  I can ask them anything I want to know.  And I got to meet Denny and spend time with him."

In a way, it kind of let us know that as parents, we aren't doing so bad after all.  We are doing a pretty good job of keeping the memory of my mother in law alive for our boys.  Even if they can't have her in their lives, they still know what kind of person she was.  And even though several hundred miles separate us from my family, we are active in each other's lives.

Still, Noah was adamant.  He wanted to know about my father.  What I saw written at the top of his page broke my heart:  "Ten Things About My Grandpa."  Oh, sweet boy.  I think it also made me realize how much anger towards that man I still need to get over.  I can't give my child what he needs about his grandfather because this man wasn't able to give me what I needed from him as my dad.

So, because Noah was determined (hmmm...  wonder where he gets that from??), I started to give him ten things about my father.  The things I gave him were very generic.  I honestly couldn't give Noah any warm and fuzzies, and I know that's what he was looking for.  He put his pencil down, looked at me and said, "Mom, what I want to know is, was he funny?  Was he like my dad?  Did he give you lots of hugs?   What did he do when you spent time together?"  I couldn't answer any of those questions for Noah; how could I tell my son that most of my memories include my father being very emotionally distant, depressed and suicidal?  The answer to that is, I can't.  But I also couldn't make things up, either.  I don't really remember spending time with my father, unless being in the same room in front of the tv qualifies. There are a few things my father taught me; for example, I learned what I did not want out of a marriage, a husband and the father to my children.  Again, though, those were not things I could share with my eleven year old son.

Shawn and I explained to Noah why this was such a difficult assignment for me.  We talked to him about how, while my father is my father, he's not my dad, and while he is biologically Noah's grandfather, he isn't.  He doesn't deserve to be their grandfather, and he and Avery are too good for him.  In ways that Noah could understand, we explained that my father is not a healthy person.  It hurts Noah because he knows he's growing up without something that most other kids have, but I told him that God has blessed us with so many people who complete our little family.  We talked about those people, and how I've learned over the years to look to these people as my family, and more importantly, to look to God as my Daddy.  He is the only One who is able to give me everything I need and want in a Father.

Eventually, I was able to come up with ten things about my father for Noah.  After that, Shawn and I also were able to convince Noah to switch to someone else.  He then decided on my grandfather, Denny.  We had fun with that one, laughing and crying with the good memories, many of them Noah wasn't around for.  With Denny, I was able to give Noah what he was in need of.

The story continues, however.  As I was driving home the other day, I was listening to the radio and a very patriotic song came on.  As the tears flowed, I realized there is something positive and healthy my father taught me, after all; something I could share with Noah:  A serious love and respect for my country.  My father was career military, so much of my life revolved around things associated with that.  I love America.  I am grateful for our military and the many freedoms awarded to us because of what they have fought for.  I am grateful that I can call this country 'home.'  The National Anthem makes me teary, as does a torn and tattered American flag.  I shake hands with, and thank, those who are obviously military or military related.  I can't say that if Paul weren't my father, and if he hadn't been military, that I would have this amazing love and respect for our country.

And yes, I did share this with Noah.  As he walked away from our little heart-to-heart, I heard him say, "Me too."




PS--I found the song...  Here it is.....  Enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wSJoZiB-UGY&ob=av2e

Glass Houses

I have to warn you, this post has been a long time coming.  It's been building up in me for months (132 months, to be exact!) and it kind of hit a boiling point Friday at Starbucks--of course!  Prepare to be soapboxed!

One thing I've learned as Noah's mom, a gigantic lesson I've been taught, is to not judge other moms.  Unless the mother is physically abusing her children, verbally berating them, making them chug entire bottles of Benadryl, and blowing cigarette smoke into their little faces as she chugs away at her own brown-bagged bottle of whatever while she's being arrested, DO NOT JUDGE HER.  And seriously, even if she is doing one or all of those things, it's still not our job to judge her.  We do not know her story.

We, as the bystanders, are only seeing one part of her day.  We have no idea what happened that morning before she left for the store (park, playground, restaurant....), what happened in the car on the way to their destination, what things she might personally be struggling with, what her children might be struggling with and what's going on at home.  We don't know their backgrounds.  My point is, all we know is what we are seeing, and we cannot possibly understand her life based on five minutes in a grocery store.  And please trust me when I say she's doing the best she can.

When I'm out with my children, I get a lot of, "Woman, would you please control your children?" looks.  On occasion, I've even been told such things to my face by people who have felt the need to tell me how to raise my children.  I gotta tell you, there are days when control is the last thing on my mind, and merely making sure everyone lives through the day is what tops my list.  When Noah can't control himself and ramps up, Avery feeds off that, and he ramps up.  Then I have two out-of-control animals instead of children.  I'm so happy that your toddler sits nicely in his highchair and doesn't yell things like, "SHARP KNIFE!  I WANT A SHARP KNIFE!" while out at a restaurant.  I'm relieved for you that your preteen son can sit quietly and still, on his rear end, through an entire meal without an outburst of his own.  I'm relieved for you that your preteen son does not need to run laps around the check stand at the grocery store and that he remembers to use the manners you are teaching him.  I'm relieved that your child understands personal space and inside voices.  It's great that your toddler isn't picking up any of his older brother's bad habits and Asperger behaviors.  But, that's not in our repertoire.


Please believe me when I say it has nothing to do with how my children are being raised.

Shawn is a good dad.  I'm a good mom.  Noah and Avery are good kids.  Please don't think otherwise just because they run laps around their frustrated, exhausted parents.  Our boys are well loved and smart.  We are teaching them manners and raising them in a Christian home.  They are happy and funny, and they stop at every other lap around us to give us hugs and kisses.  We are doing the very best we can.

For that matter, do not glare at me and my children, make comments to other shoppers--and to me--about how rude and badly behaved my children are.  My children are not rude and badly behaved.  One of them is two and acts accordingly, and the other one has issues that go beyond anything you can comprehend in your "perfect" world.  There are days I want to wear a sign attesting to those facts when I go out in public.

I am tired of the looks, the whispers and the outright rude comments.  Do not judge me and my children, and I will do you the same courtesy.  Do me, and other tired, frustrated moms, a favor and THINK before you speak.  Think about what else could possibly be going on, what else could be factoring in to how I am reacting (or not reacting, according to some of you) and consider offering an encouraging word instead of a disparaging look.  Or, if you can't say anything nice, I will thank you to just keep your mouth shut and look the other way.

Retreat! Retreat!

Okay, I admit it.  Shawn and I are homebodies.  We are wallflowers and extremely unsocial(ized?).  We tend to be private people--except of course, for the thoughts I post here!   We are very comfortable inside our little boxes, inside our very small social circle and inside ourselves.  We both feel very awkward when we are outside our element.  Sometimes we feel that if we reveal our true selves in a social situation, especially with our church family, it will be like the Indians meeting the Pilgrims (and we're the Indians).   Hmmm...  I wonder if this explains anything about Noah?! 


Our church holds several different kinds of retreats throughout the year for men, women, families and youth.  Because we are us, when Shawn and I hear the word "retreat" we, well, RETREAT!  Shawn did everything he could to encourage me to go on the women's retreat the first year we joined our church.  He stopped just short of filling out the paperwork for me and handing the check to our women's ministry leader.  I did everything but run screaming for the door like my hair was on fire.  I finally made the huge choice to go to a Beth Moore conference, but only because I was able to drag a good friend along as my security blanket.  When the women's retreat rolled around last year, I again did everything I could to dodge the social bullet.  It's not that I don't like the women in our church or that I don't want to hang out with them--I do like them and I would like to spend time with them--but these situations are just unbearably uncomfortable for me.  There's no place for me to run if I start feeling trapped, claustrophobic or overwhelmed.  If I need to skip an activity to have some downtime, I worry people will think I'm rude, snobby and anti-social instead of just being in need of a few deep breaths.  It takes me years to open up to some people (see, I can open up to all of you because I know very few of you and I don't have to look you in the eyes when I'm writing....  :)  ). And besides all of that, have you ever been in a room full of chatty women?  Ugh.....


I'm not too terribly fond of women's dinners either.  I've gone to them, but I've usually slunk out the back at the first possible chance.  When I was pregnant with Avery, a friend invited me to a dinner at her church.  Even after I told her no, she purchased my ticket anyway and I ended up feeling obligated to go.  Rotten friend (!).  I put up a real fight about it, though.  She asked me why I didn't want to go, why I would avoid a chance to hear a message from God, a chance to grow closer to God and really hear what He has to say to me.  With a skeptical look, I said, "Where would you like me to start?"  It's not that I didn't want to hear God's message, I just didn't want to do it in a room full of women!   I've been turned off from them due to other participants from past dinners: the woman who literally spent over an hour praying at a near-orgasmic height, not because she had important things to say from or to God, but because she liked the sound of her own voice;  the woman who sat next to me at another dinner when I was hugely pregnant with Avery, sharing some very scary and inappropriate details about the birth of one of her children; the women who look down on you because you are there just for food, fun, fellowship and a message from God, not gossip; the women who look down on you for any reason, judging you and making you feel inferior.  Hmmm.....  Maybe I was hanging out with the wrong crowd.  Or maybe I had the wrong perspective.....  Nahhhhh......  That couldn't be it.....

One of my fears (of many) going into a women's retreat is not having someone to room with.  My fear goes back to my elementary school days when I was usually picked last for the team (well, there are other factors, but it kind of starts there).  Yes, I'm serious.  And yes, I know it's sad.  But it's all about self confidence, which is something I lack, but that is something for another post!  What if no one picks me?  And what if the woman I am paired with doesn't like me or felt she had to suffer through my presence?  What if I get clingy, or I become so afraid of being clingy that I end up being a snob?  What if I SNORE???????  Or drool in my sleep???


Many of my fears run hand-in-hand with my Bible study fears.  I know that in the state of mind I've been in lately, I will most likely end up in tears more than once over the course of a women's retreat weekend. I don't want to be the Women's Retreat Hog.  I don't want attention focused on me.  I want my time, I want to be able to participate fully and say what I'm thinking without being judged, but I don't want attention focused on me.

Please don't misunderstand me.  I love that mountaintop feeling when I am closest to the Lord.  I love that contagious feeling after good prayer, good conversation and good fellowship with fellow Believers, and I love just being with God.  Him and me, me and Him.  But I do have trust and control issues (DUH), which are where most of my fears have taken root.  I have trusted the wrong people and gotten hurt because of it.  And the less control I have over a situation, the more untrusting and panicky I can be.  I'm just not a retreat-y type of person.

Well, it's that time again.  When I was handed the brochure for our church's upcoming women's retreat, my blood turned to ice and I began sweating at the same time.  What excuse could I come up with this time?  Maybe I could just stay away for a while and come back at the end of March?  Or maybe I could just find a new church altogether!


God isn't having any of that, though.  As I've said in previous posts, He is busy stirring my nest.  He is busy making me uncomfortable in my safe little box and telling me it's time for new experiences with Him.  It's time to put on my big girl panties and GO.  Much as He did with the Bible study, God has shouted, "IT'S TIME, CHILD.  YOU ARE GOING."  And I realize God is right in this, as He is with everything.  This is my time.  I need this retreat more than I have ever needed anything else before.  I need this time for myself and for God.  As with the Bible study, this is something else I need to for myself, as well as for my family.  He has even provided me with a roommate (Someone who likes me!  And I like her!  And she asked me, so I wasn't chosen last and I didn't have to ask her and worry she felt obligated to say yes!) and has shown me the path.  Divine intervention at it's best.


Oh, and you'll like this....  We just filled out the form for our church's family retreat in June (and I can't tell you how relieved I am that Shawn saw the "cabin options" and has yet to see the "tent options," which, thankfully, are in MUCH smaller print--WHEW!)...  Yep, we're taking the retreat plunge as a family next!  It looks like this church might make retreat-ers out of us after all... Well, in the opposite sense of how this post began!

"This Make Your Heart Feel Better, Mommy!"

Today was a long day for me emotionally.  I won't go into all of it, just take my word for it.  I've been teary since a phone call this morning, then it built on other things throughout the day.  I've been angry and sad, then sad and angry.  When I got home this afternoon, barely able to function and think, I started to tell Shawn about it and broke into sobs.  Avery climbed into my lap, took my face in his little hands and said, "Mommy, you crying?"  I told him that yes, Mommy is crying, but it's okay because it helps Mommy feel better, that Mommy's heart is hurting a lot.  My precious little boy took one of the freezer packs he'd been carrying around and placed it over my chest, saying, "This make your heart feel better, Mommy!"  He planted a kiss on my lips, wrapped his little arms around my neck, and with that, was off and running.

Yes, Avery.  That makes Mommy's heart feel so much better.  How could it not?  Oh, little boy, I love you so very much.  You are amazing and I am so blessed by you.  Thank you for the gift you are to me.

Middle School, Ritalin-Induced Mania, Horseback Riding and Noah

It's about time for a Noah-update!  Lots has happened!

Noah turned 11 a few weeks ago, so we celebrated at his favorite restaurant, Outback, with his favorite meal, steak.  Originally, he won my heart over (again!) by telling me that he wanted my cooking for his birthday, because nothing can compare to it.  When Shawn asked him if he was sure he didn't want to go out for his birthday, he replied with "Well, we haven't eaten at Outback in a while..."  Sly dog!  He ordered a 6 oz steak, salad and a loaded baked potato, which, much to our surprise, he inhaled, then looked around, trying to figure out what else he could eat!  We had the wait staff sing to him and bring a sundae out to him, which he also inhaled!  He asked for a hand-held GPS for camping and hiking, so we've agreed to match him dollar for dollar so he can have a nice one.

We met with the new psychiatrist about three weeks ago.  We went back after our initial meeting for our first prescription:  Ritalin SR.  Honestly, that one was more than a little scary.  Noah became extremely manic and it scared all of us.  He literally just could not stop; couldn't stop moving, couldn't stop talking, just could not stop himself.  I realized at lunch that he was more anxious, more hyper, more talkative and sincerely could not control any of it.  I felt awful for my son!  We gave it two days, then called the psychiatrist back and threw away the pills!  Her office manager was so helpful in relaying our message to her, then called back with a cancellation he'd saved for us.  We were able to see her the very next day and we have something new to try:  Focalin!  We are starting at a much smaller dose, which is half the normal starting dose.  The Ritalin we tried was a sustained release formula, so it would have gotten him through until about the end of the school day.  This Focalin is even shorter acting, so it will only get him through until about lunch.  If he does well with it and we are able to stick with it, we'll eventually add a dose at lunch and another one when he gets home from school, if necessary.  So far, he's done well with it.  He told me that he felt calmer yesterday.  His teacher took the time to report to me earlier today that he seems a little more focused and less distracted.  He is still struggling with his issues, but she seemed to feel a little less than usual.  Yay!  Wouldn't it be so great if we're lucky enough to have hit the nail on the head with only the second medication trial????  I had to laugh when, on the way there, Noah looked up from his book and asked if we'd ever been on that road before.  Ummm....  Only every other week!  Welcome to Noah's world, where the same trip is never actually the same!

Last week, I met with the guidance counselor and SPED chair/director at the middle school Noah will be going to next year.  I have to tell you, first impressions are a lot to me, and these two women made fabulous first impressions with me.  They both seem to walk that fine line between nurturing yet holding high expectations of good discipline personality type that Noah does so well with.  They were both more than helpful and gave me plenty of information.  Overall, I have to say I was impressed with the school.  Avery had "just a bit" of a temper tantrum, slamming the office door shut hard enough to shake the entire school, but even the principal took it in stride, telling Avery there are days they want to do that too!   Whew!  The atmosphere in that school is completely different from what I've experienced with the elementary school Noah is enrolled in.  I have to say, with all the struggles I've had with the elementary school, it was refreshing to go in and not feel like I was being given the run-around.  Everyone I spoke with was knowledgable, helpful and understanding.  They all understand what I was asking for and knew what my next steps need to be. Unfortunately, the next steps bring me back to the elementary school.  It all has to begin there in order for the transition to middle school to go smoothly.  I'll be honest:  I've never been thrilled with the administration at the elementary school.  My experiences have been less than favorable.  I've never gotten along with either the principal or the assistant principal and I've never felt that either of them are there in the best interest of the students.  This is where my struggle with getting Noah the help he deserves will be.  This will be the biggest hurdle.  I already feel the assistant principal is resisting the entire issue of an IEP for Noah.  Academically, he's beyond what is considered benchmark, so in that aspect, he doesn't qualify for one.  Asperger and ADHD don't technically qualify as learning disabilities. It sounds as though I will really have to push for this.  The women I spoke with at the middle school both offered their assistance as part of Noah's team, but I've been told by the elementary school that they can't be included yet.  Several things have to happen before Noah can be considered for an IEP, and the first of those is the meeting scheduled for Wednesday at which I will make the formal request for an evaluation.  It feels as though the assistant principal is already resisting this, saying the team may not agree to an evaluation because Noah's grades are not in danger. Now, legally, Noah is protected under Virginia state laws that protect and mandate services for children on the spectrum.  However, there are so many loopholes to that law, beginning with the school deciding whether Noah is on the spectrum or not. It doesn't seem to matter that I have documentation from three medical professionals, all in agreement of Noah's diagnoses.  This is already so frustrating for me, so overwhelming and just plain ridiculous!  My concern is my son, and making sure he receives everything he deserves and needs.

In other news, Noah went on a 13 mile bike ride with Shawn on Saturday!  He had a great sense of accomplishment when he was finished and slept well that night!  Shawn and I both had some concerns for Noah's safety, as they were on a few main roads here and there.  In the past, Noah has forgotten road rules and hasn't been the safest, forgetting to keep to the side of the road and things like that.  Noah is often not very aware of his surroundings, so that is a great concern for his safety.  However, Shawn said he listened, followed the rules and did quite well!  We were all so proud of him.  It was good to see him set a goal and exceed it.  Originally, he was only going to do half that, but found that once he kept peddling, it was easy to just keep going!  I think he and Shawn are hoping to make this part of their weekend routine.  I'm all for it!

We started horseback riding again last week, also.  The horses needed a bit of a break, so it's been two months since he last rode.  He and Justin (his current favorite horse) met up in the paddock, Noah got on him and it was as if they'd never been apart!  Those two missed each other, but they didn't miss a beat once they were back together.  He really knew what he was doing.  Noah was so confident, so focused, so calm.   He seems to have a freedom with Justin that he doesn't feel anywhere else.  When Justin kicks up his heels and takes off a little faster than Noah intends, Noah doesn't panic like we see so often with other things.  He keeps his cool, is able to remember what his instructor has told him and he reigns Justin back in.  It's just awesome to watch Noah and it was so wonderful to see him smile like that.  I just love it!  His instructor told him what I've felt for a while:  Noah is a natural with the horses.  There were two other students riding with another instructor that afternoon, so the three of them organized relay races, follow the leader and a few other games.  Much to her rider's dismay, Charm wasn't too into the games that night!  Have you ever seen a frustrated rider try to get his stubborn horse to obey when she doesn't want to?!  I love those horses so much and I'm so grateful to them for all they do.  I was teasing a friend of mine that her "hippie-ness" has worn off on me, as I stand at the fence rails sending out my love and gratefulness vibes to the horses during Noah's lessons.  I gave Justin a hug and kiss afterwards and Noah called me a tree hugger!  I told him I'm not a tree hugger, I'm a horse hugger!  I really can't say enough good things about this program and what it's done for Noah.  We owe so much to these horses, volunteers, instructors and everyone else who works with them.

One more thing I have to share with you, just because it gave me pause at first, but now I'm laughing.  Noah has been singing "What Do You Do With a Drunken Sailor."  Ummm, excuse me???  I was a little shocked that my fifth grader was singing such a song, as the title led me to believe it is hugely inappropriate for his age.  Even worse, Avery has been belting it out also, usually in the grocery store, and of course, at church yesterday!  Noah couldn't remember all the lyrics or the reason for the song, so I looked up his music teacher's email address and was even more shocked when I realized who she is.  My mother used to work with her husband and I remember when their children were born.  They are also a Christian family, so it really had me wondering what on earth this woman was thinking with this song.  I sent her an email stating my concerns and asked her to give me a call so we could talk about it, which she did not even an hour after I sent the email.  The rest of the lyrics aren't so bad; it does have historical significance as a sea chanty and, in spite of its title, it was actually a song that was sung to warn the sailors about the downfalls of drinking on the job, or showing up to work drunk. I'll be going over that with Noah again, and crossing my fingers that we can teach Avery the rest of the lyrics!

Such is life in left field!

Separation Anxiety

When Noah was younger, we never went through the separation anxiety stage.  We never went through the I Need Mommy and I Need Her Now or the Only Mommy Will Do stages, either.  I read books to him  to prepare him for the first day of preschool, I came up with a little ritual for us to do when I dropped him off, and I prepared a small photo album of pets, family and his favorite things at home for him to carry in his pocket, but we never needed them.  Noah never even showed interest in them.  I longed for Noah to just once cry out for me, and it hurt when I dropped him off at preschool or the sitter's and he was so indifferent toward me.  It wasn't that I wanted my child to be upset, I just wanted--and needed--my child to need me and to show some kind of reaction.  It felt like a kick in the face each time I left him, as I watched other children cry for their mommies, and my child didn't even notice I was leaving.  At the time, I took it very personally.  I just knew it was a reflection on me, on my poor parenting skills (and complete lack thereof) and on our relationship with each other.  There was no separation anxiety because there wasn't anything to separate from.  I was positive my child was just glad to be rid of me.

Well, that was then, this is now.  And now I know better.  While my parenting skills may still not be the greatest, I know that Noah's lack of reaction about me leaving him was not a reflection of my parenting skills, or of me.  Noah's lack of anxiety was a reflection of what was going on inside his head.  His lack of attachment to me was not a reflection of our relationship, it was a reflection of his struggle with Asperger.  Noah and I did not have that relationship I longed for because he wasn't capable of making those emotional connections, not because I was a bad mom.

And now, there's Avery, with so much separation anxiety I don't know what to do with it, some days!  And that's just my own...  Haha.  Avery and I have bonded and we've been able to make those emotional connections I longed for with Noah.  I have become the absolute, number one, most important person in his life....  Well, until Daddy gets home in the evenings, anyway!

It was so difficult to leave Avery for the first time.  I knew it was for the best and I knew I had to be strong, no matter how hard he cried.  And wow, did he cry!  And yes, I cried too.  Avery was much younger than Noah was the first time I left him, so the books and photo album weren't really a concept he could grasp. Still, as I handed my screaming, struggling, frightened infant over to his teachers, I would cover him in kisses, hug him tight, tell him I'd miss him and that Mommy always comes back, then I would turn the corner of his room at his daycare and stand there, listening to my child sob as his teachers tried their best to console him, while trying my best to stifle my own sobs. Oh, it hurt to hear my child like that!  I was certain the guilt was going to kill me. I took comfort in knowing that Avery was well cared for and well loved while in their care, but it didn't ease the hurt of leaving him in such apparent distress.  Several weeks in, I realized that he would cry just long enough for me to turn the corner (and feel guilty for leaving him!), then climb off his teacher's lap and begin to play.  Things got much better and soon we were able to leave him in the nursery at church without tears, too (ours, not his!).  Avery began to look forward to his days away from Mommy and was thriving during his time with his friends and teachers, both at church and at daycare.

Things have ground to a halt again over the past several months.  Avery still loves going to his daycare, but has begun fighting us on everything else, especially his church classroom and our Mommy and Me playgroup.  And it hurts to hear my baby scream for me.  I love that he needs me, and I know he is in great hands, but this has become so painful.  I get that painful, hiccup-y feeling in my chest; that shallow, fast breathing when you hear your child crying in pain, fear or distress.  He stands at the door with his hands stretched up to be picked up, yelling, "MOMMY!  I NEED YOU!" I was describing this feeling to a friend and she said that just hearing me describe his crying and the feeling I had gave her that feeling, reminding her of when her daughters would cry like that.

Shawn and I have been taking classes on Sunday mornings before the service, so Avery is in his classroom a little longer than Sunday mornings in the past.  Making it even more difficult, my classroom and Shawn's classroom are both directly across from Avery's.  We can hear him screaming and crying after we drop him off.  He waits at the door to his classroom the entire hour of our class, just waiting for us to come out of our classrooms.  The past few Sundays, we haven't been strong enough to leave him.  The first morning, I plastered a smile on my face, told him how much I love him and that I'd see him soon.  Through the fellowship hall, behind the door and into the sanctuary, I could still hear him screaming for me.  I went back and got him, even though I knew he was in there being snuggled and loved on.  That was my baby!  The following Sunday, the same thing happened.  When I snuck back to check on him, he wasn't being snuggled and loved.  He was still standing at the other door with his little arms reached up, crying and yelling for me, waiting for me to come back.  Again, I retrieved my child.  In defense of his teachers, he wasn't making much sense and was crying for his baby.  He'd taken Moonbeam to church that morning, and his teachers, not realizing it was his doll, had packed it away with the other toys when they'd cleaned up.  There was no way his teachers could have understood that he was crying, "My Moonbeam!  MOMMY!  I NEED YOU!  MY MOONBEAM!"  Last Sunday, his teachers shut the door near our classrooms after we dropped him off.  Thankfully, not being able to see our classrooms or us helped Avery with his anxiety and fears.  He survived the entire two hours in his classroom without us.

Sunday morning rolls around again in just a few hours.  We'll see how that goes!  Please say a prayer that we're strong enough to leave our baby!

   

Sharing a Good Laugh

As most of you already know, I've been struggling with the meaning of my life and my role in this world over the past several months.  There are times I've felt pretty deflated, unsure of my path and unfulfilled.

Even though raising my children is seldom boring, it does quite often feel that my life is similar to the movie Groundhog Day, or that I'm following the directions on my shampoo bottle:  lather, rinse, repeat.  While I am able to find pleasure in the simple things like providing healthy meals for my family and making sure the house is clean for them, I take pride in what I can accomplish in the luxury of being a SAHM, and, of course, I take so much joy in Avery's giggles and Noah's deep thoughts, but there are days the Boredom Factor has me feeling as though I'm spinning my wheels!  Now, I should be careful what I wish for....  This could end up being a day the boys have coordinated to 'tag team' me!

So, when I saw this cartoon in Sunday's paper, I literally laughed out loud.  It's amazing when art imitates life, or maybe it's vice versa, I'm not sure.

Shawn's reaction also had me laughing:  He hung his head and said, "Crap.  I'm Hagar, the idiot, oblivious husband, aren't I?"  Yes dear, but I still love you anyway.

A Gift

I was given a gift today:  A vision, if you will.  As a Believer, I do believe that God gives us visions, for lack of a better word.  When we need comfort, when we need insight and wisdom, when we need reassurance, He is there.  We just have to be open to it.  This one today has left me very teary.

Several years ago, I had a miscarriage.  I do not know if the baby was a boy or a girl, but because my child deserved a name, I have always referred to that baby as Grace.  It just seems a fitting name for a child who has only ever resided in Heaven.  Shawn and I haven't really ever talked about it.  I was very sick at the time and my body was in no shape to grow a child.  Because I wasn't very far along at the time, it's never seemed very real to Shawn.  It's not something we ever really talk about.  From time to time, he'll ask me something, or mention something, but it's not something we've dealt with as a couple.  I have always greatly felt the loss and blamed myself.  Over the years, I've heard all sorts of things, from, "Well, at least you weren't too far along and didn't have time to get attached" to "You really weren't in any shape to be a mom anyway."  It doesn't matter: That was my child.  Fortunately, I've also learned over the years that this was my loss and I have a right to mourn my child; no one has the right to take that away from me or tell me how I should (or shouldn't) feel.  It has always comforted me to know that my child is being looked after by our Father Himself.

Today in Bible study, our pastor's wife, who has had many miscarriages, was relating a story to us.  I do feel very strongly about confidentiality and privacy, and out of respect for those, her story is not mine to share.  That said, it was through her story that I was given this very comforting thought and vision today.

Last May, a very dear young woman died in a car accident.  She was like a daughter to me, her family like my own.  This young lady was always so good with children.  She loved them and she liked to work in the church nursery, always volunteered for VBS.  She would have been a good mom.

I got thinking about this today:  I bet this young woman is looking after my Grace for me.  That's the kind of thing she would do.  God is the one who brought our families together, it makes sense to me that he would bring our children together in Heaven.

I hope that doesn't sound self-centered or crazy.  At the end of the day, it's whatever it takes to get us through the day, isn't it?  God is who gets me through my day.  I do believe He is the one who gave me this gift today, letting me know that both children are doing well.

Dog Water and Locked Doors: When Chaos Abounds

My life sometimes seems to be a comedy of errors--or maybe more like a series of errors.  :)  I'm positive my children save up their ill-behaved ways, coordinate with each other, then just decide to let loose with everything all on the same day.  I need to find their calendars so I can be ready for them next time!  I know they look like innocent little sweethearts, but trust me....  Looks can be deceiving!  I wonder if they worry my readers will be bored or start feeling sorry for themselves if I don't have a "let me make your life look better" story every now and then!  Charming, thoughtful children, aren't they?!  I wish there were some way I could tie it all together in the end with some sort of lesson and say, "This is how God spoke to me," but sometimes, it's just about telling a story that I find humorous. Of course, when I start typing, I intend to head in one direction while God sometimes takes me in another, so I never know how some of my postings will end.

When we woke up yesterday morning with Avery covered in some new sort of rash, I figured we were most likely headed down a curvy road.  Thankfully though, we managed to get through all of our errands without him chewing through a bag of Peanut M&Ms or disrobing and pointing out his nipples and other body parts in the middle of the store, then telling everyone that they have nipples too.  We made it through the grocery store without accosting the plastic Avery-sized display M&Ms and trying to carry them off, demanding to take one home.  We also made it through the pet store without him trying to catch fish this time (you know, I never noticed just how accessible those darn fish tanks are to toddlers!) and he was helpful in other stores.  The rash wasn't bothersome and he was just happy to be out.  He greeted everyone, had conversations with several people, kept track of my list for me and greedily shared my Starbucks!  We got through the day without having to bathe the cat or chase him through the neighborhood after a successful escape attempt.  Avery didn't attempt to water any plants for me, or try to mop the floors.  In all, it was a successful, relatively boring day.

Things went well until dinner time.  If you have a husband (or wife!) who commutes from the city, you know they usually run later on Friday nights.  Shawn's company introduced a new product this week, so between the issues arising from that, and Friday night traffic, he was running behind in getting home.  Why is that always when everything happens at once and things start falling apart?!  


I had just gotten the pizza dough started and was catching up with laundry while talking on the phone with my mom (Mistake #1!).  I returned to the kitchen to check on the dough--and caught Avery trying his best to be um, helpful.  He has recently decided it's his job to feed our dog.  Naturally, she's not complaining because he is constantly trying to feed that 4-legged walking stomach!  So, there was dog food on the floor, her dish was full to the brim, and whatever wasn't in the dish or on the floor was in her water bowl!  After trying to clean up what I could and let Gretta eat what I couldn't, I realized the water wasn't salvageable.  Now, we have 4 pets.  And they all need water.  So we don't have a regular old dish--oh, of course not!  We have a 5 gallon jug that is inserted upside down into a little fountain thingie. Yes, I carried that jug (in the bowl) across the house and outside so I could dump it.  Then had to clean it all up, carrying the jug back into the house and put it all back together.  And I'm proud to say I did it all without spilling a drop!  That may sound simple enough, but picture this:  Tripping over the 4 animals, 2 children and countless toys and items littering my path, struggling with the weight of the jug and bowl, trying to get out the door without letting the cats out and hoping Noah was paying attention as he held the door and was supposed to close it...  Sounds simple enough, but then, most things really do!


And just when I thought it was safe to sit down and take a breath....  Avery locked himself in his room.  I still haven't figured out how he managed it.  Shawn was still about an hour away from home, so I had two choices--break the door by throwing myself against it or taking the knob off while my toddler stood on the other side.  The funny thing?  He wasn't crying or fussing about being stuck!  He was laughing and singing!  I'm wondering if he thought it was great that Mommy couldn't get in his room?  I finally took the knob off and left the rest for Shawn to deal with.

I had to juggle a few other things while assembling the pizzas, but just the usual:  Keeping the elderly cat from dying (there's a story there, yes), keeping the boys from killing each other, keeping the dog out of our dinner, yada, yada, yada.

This is our life.  Crazy, chaotic and a little bit of wild.  But it's ours.

Oh, and when Shawn got home?  I went to bed.  Very early.

Better Than a Hallelujah

Hmmm....  Looks like I'm a hallelujah-themed kick here.....

God has been on me to take care of myself.  If I don't do that, I'm no good to anyone else.  If I'm not in peak shape emotionally, physically and spiritually, I can't take good care of my family, I can't help my friends and I won't be a successful part of the ministry I volunteer with.  If I am not overflowing with God, grace, mercy, love and good health, I won't have anything left to give out, and if I am able to give out, I will run in the negative for myself.

Okay, I'm sure you get the point.

Part of taking care of myself means taking a Bible study at church and attending a grief support group that our ministry runs.  These are not easy things for me, as I've said before.  There are things I need to tackle though, so this is what I must do.

The Bible study in particular is especially difficult for me.  We are doing the Resolution for Women.  At the end of each section, there is a resolution we must sign that goes with the chapter we just read.  At this time, I have been unable to sign the first one:  To find contentment with/be content in the current season I am in.  I am finding this just so difficult, but I know I need this study just because that is the first resolution.

Contentment is something I have been struggling to find for the past 18 months.  Several things have made it even more difficult over the past 6 months.  This is quite possibly one of the worst, horribly long, seemingly endless seasons, in which that stuff that hits the fan just seems to keep piling on.  I am so bogged down with how bad things have gotten that  I have been forgetting to look for God sightings and Tidbits of Normal, to enjoy my children and the life God has blessed me with.  I have not been able to be grateful for my loved ones, for the blessings God has given me and just for life itself.  I am always looking for the next minute, the next hour, the next day.  Even before I get out of bed in the morning, I am already thinking, "If I can just get through today, tomorrow will be so much better."  With that thought, I'm learning two things:  1, I'm forgetting to enjoy life and I'm missing out on so much by rushing through, and 2, I'm not learning anything.  And, now I'm reaping what I've sown:  I am emotionally, spiritually and physically killing myself.  I am stressed beyond being able to spell it as desserts backwards.  So, this has become my goal:  to be content, to remember to be joyous in this season, to find the things to be grateful for, to rest in these moments instead of rushing.

Something we talked about today in our grief class is emotion.  Some people are afraid to cry, some have been taught not to cry, others--like me--cry at the drop of a hat.  I wear my heart on my sleeve, but I think I've realized I'd rather wear it there than feel nothing at all.  Anyway.  The video we watched brought up a good point:  God gives us these emotions.  He gives us tears to relieve the pain, to release the grief and anguish we have held within us.  It's not shameful to cry and tears shouldn't be hidden.  There is nothing wrong with showing emotion--in fact, many times, they are better than a hallelujah to God.  Tears are a gift, and gifts are meant to be used, right?

So, not only do I need to work on contentment, but I need to remember it's okay to cry.  I'm still grieving some major losses, and trying to juggle several major stressors all at the same time.  It's been a rough year....  BUT it WILL get better.  With each day, it will get a little better, a little easier and I will have a few more hallelujahs.

Here is the video of Amy Grant's "Better Than a Hallelujah."  It always makes me cry, so if you're a weeper, keep a tissue handy!  Enjoy.  It's one of my favorites.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rm5kx3xqmg0