PUSH THE PANIC BUTTON!

With Sandy rolling through, I've kept myself busy baking.  Bread, bread and MORE bread.  Rosemary bread, pumpkin swirl bread, honey wheat bread, banana bread, white bread, french bread....  I've have some stuffed in the freezer for later and for Christmas gifts, my family went through 3 loaves as Sandy worked her way through our state, and have started on loaves 4 and 5, and I've given away 3 more loaves.  Oh!  And I made some kick-butt creamy chicken rice soup Monday night to go with some of this bread!

It's hard to believe I have any baking supplies left, but I do!

My niece has always said the only thing that can make her feel better are my chocolate chip cookies.  I love my niece as one of my own.  She fractured her wrist the first day of the storm, so what's a favorite Mamie to do?  Bake cookies, duh.

As it turns out, the only ingredient I don't have is brown sugar.  I'm out, completely.  I have bags of everything else, but somehow I have completely run out of brown sugar.

When I texted this to Sharon, she texted back, "PUSH THE PANIC BUTTON!"

Oh my gosh, right?????

I'm so glad someone in this small world is on the same wavelength as me.

Consider the button pushed.

Padding My *ahem* Resume

Yesterday I did something crazy, just because I have a computer with internet access on it.  I looked at job postings.  For FEMA and the Red Cross.  And they weren't desk jobs I was looking for, they were field positions.

Turns out, according to them, I'm really not currently qualified.  I don't carry degrees, qualifications or certifications in marketing, communications, strategic planning, negotiations, emergency preparedness or emergency/disaster response.  It seems that being a mom for twelve years, and a preschool teacher for three years before that, even though in many ways it can be a lot like being a drill sergeant in the Army, doesn't really qualify you for much.

Hmmm...

That got me thinking.  How on earth is it that motherhood and teaching wildlife--I mean, preschool--haven't prepared me for a field job in disaster response???  Seriously?

So, here's my resume, according to me, myself and I...  Forget the degrees, I have the qualifications and experience!

Marketing:
"Vegetables are prettier than candy.  Chocolate is a very boring, brown color.  When food is prettier, it always tastes better.  That's a known fact!"
"Don't you think the violin would be a nicer instrument to learn how to play rather than the drums?  The violin is just nicer looking, you look nicer playing it, you'd look more sophisticated and educated, too!"  Not to mention the violin is quieter than the drums...
$7 for bread at Great Harvest?  Shoooooot, Noah's Boy Scout Troop is selling mine for $5, and it tastes better than Great Harvest's!

Communications:
"Because I'm the MOM and I said so!"
"Dear God, grant me patience NOW!  Please?"
"Hi, this is Noah's mom.  Yes, hi.  Nice to meet you too.  Yes, I heard what he said, and I'm really, really sorry about that.  Please accept my apologies and know that it won't happen again."
"Yes, hi, this is Avery's mom.  Hi, yes, it's nice to speak with you too, I know you've been trying to get in touch with me.  Yes, I heard what he did, and I just wanted to let you know it won't happen again."
Shawn says I wouldn't even need a megaphone...
I can round up children from the other side of the county just with the sound of my voice.

Strategic Planning:
We all know what will happen if you don't take that extra diaper and change of clothes with you for that five minute run to the store....
I have coordinated surprise parties without giving away the surprise (I think that qualifies under Communications, and possibly Marketing, as well).
I can get myself, Shawn, Noah, Avery, the dog and three cats to 8 different places all at the same time.
I can coordinate a holiday meal, and four people (including two children), to all be ready and at the table at the same time, while the food is still hot.
In a single day, I can get four loaves of bread, two batches of cookies, enough dinner to feed three families, food for my work, snack for preschool, and treats for Shawn's office churned out of my kitchen.
Now, if that isn't strategic planning....

Negotiations:
"Eat you vegetables or I'm taking your Ironman costume away."
"I will give you two cookies from my Oreo stash if you clean your room."
"Don't kill your brother/the cat/the dog and I won't kill you!"

Emergency Preparedness:
Do you have any idea how many band aids I found in my purse the other day????
Also, here is where we go back to the extra diaper and change of clothes in the Strategic Planning section...
"Please change your underwear this morning, comb your hair and brush your teeth.  You never know what the day will bring."

Emergency/Disaster Response:
I can reach the ER in five minutes flat (normally a 20 minute drive).
I can coordinate 3 moms, 1 husband/dad, and 7 kids all to the same location when one of us needs the other ones  (I think that goes along with Strategic Planning).

I also have experience in conflict resolution (don't kill your brother!), and I've navigated combat zones (I've camped with teenagers WHILE pregnant, and, let's face it--my own house is a combat zone most days).  But what about multi-tasking, you ask?  Well, I have plunged an overflowing toilet while washing paint out of my hair over a sink and trying to keep the dog and toddler out of the entire mess.  I have re-buried the family dog (while trying to keep the puppy from "helping") after Avery decided he wanted Gretta back, and the new puppy decided to help him dig her up.  I have packed four people for a 672 mile emergency trip in less than 30 minutes while under emotional duress.  And on a daily basis, I juggle two kids, a puppy, three cats, 1 husband, and household duties and maternal responsibilities.  Of course, that doesn't count all the unexpected things that pop up throughout the day needing my attention.

At this point, I think I'm more than over-qualified.

Aaaaaanddd... My go-bag is already packed!  These qualifications look great to me.  I'm not really sure how they'd look on paper to the people doing the hiring, but maybe they'd at least get a good laugh.


Hmph.  Well, maybe the Army needs a new drill sergeant...

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

It's no secret how disillusioned I've become with motherhood and wifehood recently.  I'm feeling taken for granted, used up, worn out and tired of putting up with it--and then I feel guilty for feeling this way. After all, isn't this the mother's lot in life?  We do and do and do for others, always putting our family's needs before our own, and when there's nothing left for ourselves, oh well!  That's just how it is.  This is the fate to which we are resigned.  Mothers, by nature, are supposed to be givers, never takers.  We're expected to be selfless and nurturing.

Sometimes, I really think I wasn't cut out for this. 

The truth is, I don't know that I can do it anymore--I don't know that I want to do it anymore.  I told a friend yesterday that I can totally see myself moving to a farm in Wyoming or Montana and being a farmhand for the rest of my life, or becoming part of some hippie colony and changing my name to Runs From Responsibilities.  Running away from my family.  Letting Shawn do things on his own, instead of coming out from behind his computer long enough to yell at the kids to listen to their mother, then retreating back to his hidey hole, or coming out just as all hell is breaking loose to save the day, instead of helping before it gets to that point.  Would he notice I'm gone when the kids don't respond to his plea to listen to their mother?  I told my friend it's probably a good thing I don't have a place to go because most likely, I would've left.  There's that thought needling in the back of my brain: Do I owe it to them to try to keep things together when I feel like I'm the only one trying, or do I owe it to myself to move on and make it about myself for a change?  And what exactly does "move on" mean?  My body and my emotions cannot handle this roller coaster ride anymore.  I'm tired of feeling like I'm the only one trying.  Lately I'm wondering how much longer I'm willing to put up with this.

For the past 12 years, my world has centered around my family.  It has centered around being sick, and it has centered around doing for others.  I have felt stalled each time I've attempted to pursue something for myself.  In one way or another, I've felt punished each time I've done something for myself. I have felt guilty when doing things for myself, whether it be a pedicure (which translates to a desperately needed time of relaxation away from my family, not just wanting pretty toes), desperately needed new clothing, or trying to take up a hobby, because it takes away from what my family needs or wants.  Then I feel selfish for wanting or needing something that is just mine, for needing some time away, for wanting things to be a group effort.  But you know what?  I need something just for me.  And I need to give up the guilt.  For once, Shawn needs to have to deal with the kids, the messy house (and not leave that mess, and make more, for me to deal with when I get home), and everything that goes with it.  Shawn has a job, and several hobbies that take him outside of the house.  He has short term and long term goals.  He has plenty of chances to "get away," even when he is already away on a daily basis, yet I am here, day in and day out.  No matter where I go, the kids are pretty much always with me.  I always have one or both of them, or I have to hurry through what I'm doing to pick them up, be back for them, or do something for them.  I'm the one being screamed at, dealing with the whining, the daily discipline, the enforcement of chores and rules, and the rest of the mess.  Lately, there's very little joy in any of it.

I have seriously considered getting a job, and nixed that idea.  It would only create more stress, because the only thing that would change is that I would have a paying job to contend with along with all of my household tasks.  It would only be more work for me, nothing would change for anyone else. I would have more responsibilities, and even less time for myself.  I've thought about extending my volunteer hours at the center, but honestly, I'm feeling hypocritical for the time I'm already there.  I love my work there, but it's often exhausting.  Having to be 'on,' and it's not about me (which is rightly how it should be).  I need something for me.

Last weekend, I was sort of presented with an opportunity.  It's so far out of my box it's not even in the same neighborhood.  And I've done nothing but talk myself out of it ever since.  It was two-fold: disaster response with a government-funded group, and SAR training for myself and my dog, which we would use within the disaster response group, and the group we train with.  I already have some disaster response certifications, but I've never been able to deploy.  This group is strictly in-state, and while it's volunteer, all training, certification, and travel expenses are covered.  There is monthly training, along with 2 weekends a year at any one of three local military bases.  There aren't any physical requirements; basically, if you're willing, they'll find a way for you to be able.  For the first few minutes, I was really excited about it.  Then I remembered the house I'd come home to, the mess, having to set things up in order to be able to do what I want to do--everything that would have to happen so I can pursue this, is it worth it?  Most likely not.  And what about my physical limitations that are becoming well, more limiting?  Over the past week my right side has become noticeably weaker and more tired.  Could I really keep up with disaster response and SAR?  And for heaven's sake, I don't even know how to read a map.  And if Lilly and I aren't approved for SAR training, what would I have to offer this group?  I've been a mother for 12 years.  Sure, I can cook, but is that really what I want to be doing in my off time?  And eventually, if I ever break through this funk, what about the guilt and fear I'd eventually feel when leaving my family during disasters and emergencies?  I've talked myself out of it, not because I'm afraid of failure, but because I know history repeats itself.  Like I said, I was really excited at first, but then reality hit me like a fist in the gut.

I don't know if anything will come out of this, but I do know that things need to change, and I can't do it on my own.  I need to do something for myself that doesn't involve my family, and gets me away from them.  They need time away from me in order to learn how to appreciate what I do for them, and at some point, learn how to appreciate what I've sacrificed of myself for them.  I can't keep banging my head against the same wall.  It's starting to hurt.

Sarah Laughed

Life in the Furr house has been a bit um, full of well--lots of things--lately.  And few of them good.  It's been kind of a rough ride.

I'm not even sure how or why it started, but suddenly my world just kind of started closing in last week.  Big things hit, and then I found myself crying because the resolution on my ancient laptop did something on its own (or with the help of a cat) and I couldn't figure out how to fix it (isn't that why I married 24 hour tech support???  So he can fix it?).  After that, it all went downhill even faster.  I'm not sure why it is that I can seemingly handle a few fastballs, then the dumbest curveball (my computer's resolution, either a quirk, or courtesy of my cat's overweight bum) is what sends me toppling over the edge.  I allow myself to become the devil's playground, and man, does he have a field day with me.

The fastballs...  I have a dear friend I love so much.  I have watched over the past several years as she has engaged in self destructive behavior, and every time she calls, I go running.  She called last week.  I tossed everything at Shawn as he tossed my purse to me on my way out the door, both of us questioning if the police should be called this time, and it struck me...  I'm enabling her.  I'm no longer part of the solution, I'm part of her problem.  That took the wind out of my sails, and when I got there, I know my attitude wasn't what she wanted or expected from me.  I came home and cried for everything I can't do for her, for everything she won't do to help herself and has done to destroy herself, and the position she's put me in.  I've realized I need to take a step back, not just for her, but for myself and my family.  I know that she will see this as abandonment, and I'm even angry at her for not being healthy enough to recognize that I'm stepping back because I love her, before I help her do more damage.  It's time for tough love, and she's going to hate me for it.  After a very enlightening session with my mentor, who lovingly yet firmly helps me come to these conclusions myself, I know it's best.

There are things that happened between myself and my mother this summer that I am still trying to comprehend.  I won't go into them here, partially because, well, I'm still processing the events two months later.  It's fed a lot into some of my other issues, and has left me reeling.  I do not pretend to understand her or her actions.  She scared me, and she scared my kids.  Until she gets help, I cannot allow her to be a part of their lives, so she has chosen to not be a part of our lives at all.  Even though I know that is her decision, and I need to move on, she is my mother and I will always yearn for the acceptance she is not capable of giving me.  It's very sad.

My niece recently had a baby, and she's doing her best to be a good mom to this beautiful little girl.  My great niece was unexpected, but my niece loves her daughter and wants to right all the wrongs.  She is making a genuine effort and I'm so proud of her.  I remember what I needed when Noah was unexpected, and what my family was unable to provide to myself and Shawn (emotionally), and I want to make sure my two beautiful girls get what they need and deserve.  I am angry at my sister for the way she has always put herself and her Whim of the Week above her children, and I am even angrier at the way she is now treating her granddaughter.  They deserve better, as do all of my sister's children.  My other niece is having many difficult medical issues, and my heart aches for the heartache she is suffering.  My instinct is to run to her and cover her in love, but she has stated she needs her space.  I know I need to respect that.  It's very difficult to watch my girls hurt.  They've always deserved better.  I don't have a magic wand to make the bad stuff good, and at times it's overwhelming to know what they've been through, and what they are going through now.

Every now and then, I become utterly overwhelmed by Noah.  I know that doesn't sound fair, but being his mom can be difficult at times.  It's truly a grief process--realizing that as much as he has going for him, and as much as life has to offer him, there are still things that life can't or won't do for him.  Does that make sense?  When you have a child with special needs, you have to grieve the things that will never be, and I don't think I've fully accepted it, even now.  I cannot accept that this is "all" life has for my son.  I fear for him, and sometimes, I even fear of him.  There is much turmoil in my heart and in my brain over my career as his mom, over his life path, and where this path takes our family on a daily basis.  Some days I just want to curl up in a ball and say, "No, I'm not going to do it today.  You can't make me."  Whether I like it or not, Asperger's is a part of our lives.  I can't ignore it, I can't deny it, I can't wave a magic wand...  Nor can I pray it away.  I love my son very much, but I do not love Asperger's, and I do not always know how to embrace it as a part of our daily lives.  Sadly, as a result, that often means I do not know how to embrace Noah.  I talked a lot of this out with an older friend of mine who survived raising teen daughters as a single mother.  My dear Rochelle never judges me, but she supports me, encourages me, cheers me on and listens.  Also, a friend from church visited.  She understands much of what goes through my head, and today I was so grateful for her mere presence I knew if I spoke I'd cry.  Again, no judgement, just understanding.

Topping things off is my health.  I have had flare upon flare upon flare.  My pain has been off the charts, and I haven't really had a break from it. A kind of quick lesson--a CPK, Creatine Kinase, is a muscle enzyme that can be measured in your blood.  They can break it down to specific organs, and even an enzyme coming from your brain.  If your blood is overloaded, most likely you have a muscle that has been damaged and being repaired by your body.  The high end of normal is 175.  My latest test showed my CPK to be 3245.  No, my computer didn't stutter, and yes, the lab ran it several times (Shawn said even after repeating the test, and recalibrating their machine, the lab still probably dumped the machine just to be on the safe side).  This is actually a "normal" number for me, even though it's obviously showing the signs of disease.  My doctor asked if I wanted the numbers for my heart, liver and kidney enzymes (also too high), and I laughed because I figured I'd cry at that point if I didn't.  My doctor wants to throw more meds at me, and wants a 4th muscle biopsy.  When I asked why he felt these were the best options, he shrugged his shoulders in a "heck if I know" gesture.  If he could've given me a different answer, I'd consider them.  I've known for a while that it's time for a new approach, and probably new -ologists.  I just don't know where, or how, to start.  We've been to NIH, we've been to Hopkins.  We've seen some of the best doctors and gotten nowhere.  I've even prayed for a diagnosis of Lupus, MS or even cancer, because then at least we'd have a definitive answer and treatment options.  Nine years ago, when all of this started, my doctors gave me two diagnoses, but I've never completely fit one of them.  It was just more or less a diagnosis of elimination.  I'm very frustrated, angry, discouraged, annoyed, frightened--you name it.  The other thing is, we've been fighting this for nine years--how much more time, effort and money do we want to waste on this, especially when we aren't feeling heard?  Much like with Asperger's, I want to rail at my silent illnesses that they need to leave.  I do not want to accept what they bring to our lives, I do not want to accept this is as what life has to offer me.

And underneath all of this....  The baby factor.  Shawn and I have been contemplating and praying about another child for the past year.  Just when we felt we had an answer, yes, all hell broke loose.  We already love this child so very much, and we love Noah and Avery very much.  Our love and concern for the children we already have is what has cooled our heels over a third child.  How fair would it be for any of them?  With so many questions about my health, and taking the chance of having a second child on the spectrum, would it really be wise to have another child?  On the other hand, with both of us approaching 40, and knowing how long it would take for me to get to a point where I can back off my meds, then actually do it, before we could even start trying for another child, Shawn and I feel as though we're running out of time.  Our other question is, why would God give us such a love, such a desire for this child, only to shut us down?

All of this has added up to a lot of stress, sleeplessness and just plain frustration for me.  I am weary, exhausted, depressed, angry.  I haven't been able to get through an hour without tears for one reason or another.

Now I guess it's pretty obvious why I cried over my computer's resolution.

My best friends have been trying to help me through this.  Both have been heavy-handed with the tough love, which has been necessary.  They love us, and they're concerned about us.  I need help.  Our family needs help.  Sharon has been loud about reminding me that God has not abandoned me or my family.  She has been loud about reminding me that God has made us all in His image, that He already knows my anger, my frustration and my depression.   She has been loud about reminding me that GOD is my Truth, not my father, nor my mother.  She has been loud about reminding me of all the blessings I do have, and all the things that do go right in my life.  She has begged me to not give up on God, and to not give up hope.  Then Sharon reminded me about Sarah.  Sarah prayed and prayed to God for a child.  It wasn't until she was in her 90's that God finally granted her prayer, and gave her a son.  And Sarah laughed.

....And Other Times We Don't

*I hesitated in posting this.  I'm sure there will be some shocked readers with plenty of opinions about me, and assumptions will be made.  Fine.  This is me being honest.  I don't sugar-coat things, I don't "blow sunshine."  I'm the one with the courage--or just plain stupidity--to say what's really in my head.  For the record, I would never voice any of this to Noah or Avery.*

When people learn that your child has special needs, they automatically think you must be a martyr or a saint.  Your world revolves around your child!  You must be the most charitable mom ever!  Oh, I bet you just love children!  Surely, your heart is bursting with love!  You are so strong!  You must be special for God to have chosen you to be his mom!  There's a reason for everything!

The truth is, none of that is really true.  I am neither a saint, nor a martyr.  Yes, my world revolves around my child, but that's because it has to.   I am not God's gift to motherhood or children.  I will never be strong enough to move mountains, or, as it is on some days, even my children.  There are days, unfortunately, that my heart isn't exactly overflowing.  I am tired.  I am weary.  I am sad.  I long for whatever qualifies as normal.  I long for Noah to "get" it, for it all to finally just click, even when I am told it may never do just that, which, quite frankly, I've grown tired of hearing.  I go to bed at night feeling much like Bill Murray's character in Groundhog Day, knowing tomorrow will just be a repeat of today.  And the next person who tells me how special I am, or there's a reason for everything, runs the risk of getting smacked.  Seriously.

As Christians, we learn that God never gives us more than we can handle.  We learn that in order to grow, He bends us, but promises to never  break us.  Okay, so I'm a little tired of hearing those platitudes, too.  Lately, I have never felt more broken.  I want to scream at God that I can't handle anymore, and He's wrong to think that I can.  Something needs to change, something's got to give.

I've tried making this work as our normal.  Because, well, let's face it--normal is what you make it, right?  But when special plans go awry and Avery doesn't understand why (something he's been looking forward to all week), or when all Avery wants is his brother's attention and can't quite catch it, it's frustrating, not just for him, but for me too.  Realizing that your 3 year old's reasoning skills, decision-making skills, gross-and-fine-motor skills, and various other skills are light years ahead of your 11 year old's is just plain disheartening; disheartening, but also a sad relief to realize that Avery does not have Noah's differences.  Watching Noah's interactions with his peers and realizing just how far behind he is socially and emotionally is disappointing.  Knowing that for most kids, it's just a matter of "you can do whatever you put your mind to," but your own child doesn't have the follow through or anything else that it takes, even when you've repeatedly tried teaching it to him, is frustrating.  I've left schools, meetings and numerous other social activities in tears for him.  When you put off having an already much-loved third child because your fear of having a second child on the spectrum outweighs the simple joy of just having a child, it's frightening, and sad.  I have such a desire for Avery to be able to experience a "normal" sibling relationship, but my fear is that he would instead be stuck in between two ASD siblings, never being able to understand, experience and cultivate a two-way relationship with Noah and Child #3.  It's frustrating to watch Avery desperately try to gain Noah's attention, and to repeatedly have to say, "Noah, please answer your brother," or "Noah, Avery is talking to you," or "Noah, Avery wants to play with you."  I already worry about Avery being the proverbial forgotten child, and I wonder how fair all of this is to him.  And, while I'm being honest, the truth to this is also that I don't think I have what it takes to raise another ASD child.  I'm quite certain that if it didn't break me, it would definitely break our marriage.

There are days I get tired of making the effort, but I have to because he's my son.  What kind of mother would I be if I didn't?  I've tried embracing his differences.  There's a lot Mommy Guilt associated with raising Noah; 1, his needs are 'few' (but entirely overwhelming at times), and he's very close to the "neurotypical" end of the spectrum, and 2, I only have 2 children to contend with.  I should be able to handle this!  I think to myself, "Surely there is someone out there who could do a better job than I am."  Heck, my mother's even told me she could do it better (because she did such a great job with me and my sister)!  Literally, ever since Noah was born, I've seen other mothers with their sons and wondered what it was they were doing so right that I'm always doing so wrong.  I even remember one time when Noah was an infant, we were in the grocery store and he just would not stop crying (which was par for the course with him).  An older woman came over and took him from me, saying, "Oh, you're doing it all wrong, here, let me show you."  Just kind of confirmed what I'd already been thinking.  Noah and I have always struggled. It's difficult when there's no affection returned, no eye contact made, no "Thank you Mom," or any sort of acknowledgement of my existence or all that I do.  Sadly, I've come to dread the arrival of the school bus in the afternoons because it means an increase in my stress, an increase an Avery's stress, and a general increase in the chaos that is our life.  Fighting for Noah when it has put my marriage and our finances on the line has exhausted me to the point that I don't know how much fight I have left. I've carted him off to this counselor and that counselor, waited for this phone call, prayed over that medicine bottle, met with these people, arranged for this special treatment....  And in the end, I've realized that I can't do it for him.  He has to want to do it, he has to actively participate and want to improve our family relationships, he has to want to make it click, and until he does, I'm blue in the face for no reason.

It's tiresome.  It gets old.  I seldom have a moment to myself.  I am weary.  I am battle-worn.  I am sad.  I am barely hanging on.  The progress seldom outweighs the regress, and the stand-stillness.  I want to do right by both children, and I am torn.

Gee, I don't sound so much like a saint anymore, do I?

I love Noah, but I will never be a saint.  I am merely a mother trying to survive raising her son.

*A bit of advice....  At times, we moms feel secluded, and different because our kids are different.  Please don't offer platitudes, please don't offer advice.  Instead, offer a hug.  Ask how you can help, offer to help, offer a play date for the siblings.  Tell us we're doing a great job, even if we really aren't.  Lift us up.  Noah's needs are 'few' but overwhelming at times, and I only have two children....  Imagine for a minute a mom with a child with more needs than Noah, and more children than I have.*

Every Now and Then, We Get it Right

Noah has never done anything "by the book."  While not having the typical toddler meltdowns, and not doing the typical toddler things made him the "easier" one in some ways then, there are times that not even the books about Aspy kids have made raising him any easier now.  Noah lives life to his own tune, not really following any guidelines written that are supposed to make parenting well, um, easier.

And Avery....  Where do I start?!?  Avery was the one who threw Dr. Dobson's The Strong-Willed Child at us as soon as he could crawl!  Still, for the most part, Avery does most things "by the book."  Does that make parenting him easier?  Nope, not really!

BUT, there are times as parents that our children teach us maybe we aren't doing such a bad job after all.  Maybe we're getting through to them after all.

Noah has been showing some maturity and responsibility recently....  All on his own.  He's been taking on a few of his chores without being asked, and even some that aren't his chores.  Shawn does his best to get up with the kids in the morning so I can sleep in just a little bit more, and Noah has been taking the trash out when he leaves for the bus stop, and he's memorized the trash days, so he takes the trash can to the end of the driveway on without being asked also.  Noah is getting up on his own, getting his morning routine going, and taking care of most of his morning tasks, trying to make things easier on his dad (and in turn, me).  He's been practicing his violin without being reminded, and, even better, he's been remembering his morning meds without being reminded.  I can't tell you how proud I am of him.  Now, this isn't to say we don't still have hiccups (ohhhh, we still have hiccups....  He is almost 12, after all!), but I'm really concentrating on the positives with him.  School is continuing to go well, and he was just inducted into the Trojan Pride Club due to his accomplishments!  I have prayed for this maturity for so long, and I'll continue to pray for more maturity (!), but seeing this growth in Noah gives me hope, and as his mom, it makes me beam.  I know it's not me, I know it's between him and God.  We still don't have the relationship I crave, but we're working on it.  I recognize that he's trying to be more affectionate with me, that he's saying thank you more, that we're both making more of an effort with each other.  Again, I know it's God.  He's working hard with both of us.

Avery is my little sweetheart (not that Noah isn't, but these things that come out of my 3 year old's mouth, whew!).  God is busy at work on his little heart!  The other morning, after our walk with Lilly, he looked over at our neighbor's house and said, "Mommy, we need to go say good morning to Miss Pat."  Miss Pat is our older, widowed neighbor, who we love and adore very much.  He even wanted to take some of our fresh baked muffins to her (don't worry, we did).  That touched my heart so much.  It means that what I've been saying to him about caring about others, being nice to others, loving others, and doing nice things for others is getting through to his little heart.  It also appears that Gretta's death had more of an impact on him that he realized.  For one, after Lilly stomped on a cricket on our front path and killed it last week, Avery had a fit.  I was getting ready to brush it to the side with my foot when Avery started yelling that we had to put it in a box.  Gretta lives in a box in the ground now, we told her she died, so after I explained to him that the cricket had died, it only made sense to him that the cricket would also live in a box in the ground.  So, yes, the cricket went in a box, and the box went in the ground.  Several days later, while they were playing,  Avery asked Shawn if he ever misses Gretta, and if missing her ever makes him sad.  Shawn said he does miss her, and it does make him very sad, then asked Avery the same questions.  Avery answered yes, and said said he also misses Evan--his imaginary friend--but that Gretta needs him more, so that she isn't lonely.  And come to think of it, we haven't heard much from Evan since Gretta died.  My sweet boy.

These are my kids.  Shawn and I don't always get it right.  In fact, I daresay nine times out of ten we don't.  But every now and then we do.  Still, we aren't doing this on our own, and we aren't in this fight for our children alone either.  Not only do we have God, but we have their villages.  And I'm grateful for all the help we can get.

"Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it." Proverbs 22:6