"This is Just How it is"

Avery's been going through some stuff.

And a lot of times, he puts me through a lot of stuff.

A few weeks ago, we were having a rare moment, and we were in deep conversation.  I do love these moments with my boys, and I am loving how  Avery is maturing enough to have more of these moments.  He's begun to come into his own in a more positive way, and I've enjoyed being a part of his personality blooming and developing.

We were talking about another specialist he would be seeing, and I asked  how he's doing with all this 'autism stuff.'  How is he feeling about the diagnosis, and being different, and his brain, and everything that comes with it?

"Well Mom," he began, "I've always been this way.  The only thing that's different is we have a name for it now, right?  And now we can start helping me better because we have the name.  And I actually really kind of like being different and I actually really kind of like the way my brain works.  It's pretty cool.  And you know, God has a plan for me.  There's a reason He made me this way.  Just like you always tell Noah there's a reason He made him that way.  I don't know when, or if, I'll find out God's reason, but I have to trust Him, and this is just how it is.  And it's going to be okay.  It won't be easy, like you tell Noah, but it will be okay in the end.  And if it's not okay, it's not the end, right?"

I sat back, stunned into silence, in complete awe.

Huh.

He's been listening all along.

This is the child I struggle with so much.  This is the child I struggle to get through to.  This is the child who teaches me so much, and I often wonder what on earth I could possibly hope to teach him because I just cannot get through to him--we lock horns and go right to battle--often, literally.  I've written here about the battles that come to blows, that have become physical, than have become painful, physically and emotionally.  I never know if he's listening.  If I say 2+2=4, he insists it equals 5, and will work on the equation until he can make it equal 5!  It is the reason we need a co-op for homeschooling--because he often will not listen to me, but if his tutors tell him the same thing I've been telling him, it's written in stone!

And yet, here we were.

I was more than a little blown away.

My own words, repeated right back to me, straight from my boy's precious heart--not by rote, but by feeling, with emotion, with pure faith and knowledge, and complete trust in his Abba.  He said it as his prayer, with utter belief and contentment for his life.

This is just how it is.  And it's okay.

You're a Unicorn, Babe

I had just finished ranting telling my husband something about supporting other moms and ending the Mommy Wars for good, and he simply smiled at me.

Then he said, "You're a unicorn, babe.  I love you."

I chucked my chin at him, neighing, while giving him a querying look.

Huh, what???

He explained:  "In a world of women waging war against each other, and flipping each other off, and knocking each other over to get to the finish line first, and measuring who does what more of and better--you don't care about all any of that.  You care about the mom.  You care about raising her up, encouraging her, being her friend, helping her out, things like that.  You know how tough motherhood is, and you acknowledge it.  It's not a competition for you.  That's not what you care about.  You care about making sure she's healthy and able to take care of her children, and taking care of herself, too.  You're a unicorn.  You're not the norm."

These are the things I want to do--hold your crying baby in the grocery line (or follow you through the store so you can do you shopping) so you can pay (shop) without juggling.  I want to help you load your car.  I will rock, walk with, hold, whatever it takes, with your baby so you can enjoy your meal in a restaurant.  Here's a secret:  I've already held babies on airplanes to give moms' proper breaks.  I know you may not know me from Adam, but these are the things I would like to do for you.  I've read about the police officer and flight attendant in other countries nursing the hungry babies when the moms didn't have formula, and I think--these women are my heroes!!!  Feed the hungry!  Help the moms without judgment!!!  And for these of you who do know me (because it would be totally weird if I showed up on a stranger's doorstep to do these things), I will come wash your dishes with you, vacuum while you nurse or rock your baby while you shower (or manage your chaos while you shower, or cry over your teenager, whichever).  Can I take you out to lunch, or just a quick coffee break, maybe get a pretty mani/pedi?  Can I pay for a babysitter so you can go out alone, or grab a date night with your husband?  I would love to listen to you rant, or cry, or not say anything at all--I will gladly just sit beside you so you know you are not alone in this.  If you would rather I hold your screaming baby while you rock in a corner take a drive around the block, let's do it!  And if you give me your keys to your house, you just never know what will happen while you're out (it's happened, there are a few people you can ask)!!!  Don't worry, your china and jewelry are safe.  Your bathroom and your kitchen? Not so much.  

This is my passion.  It's a passion I never imagined myself having.  In college, I judged parents harshly, and I was going to save children from horrible situations.  Now, I realize we have to raise up strong women and moms so child never end up in horrible situations.  We have to be real.  We have to be transparent.  We have to love without judgment.

I've had a baby who was 'difficult' and turned into an okay toddler.  I will digress here and point out we were new parents, he was a new human, and none of us had a clue what we were doing, so it's not entirely on him.  I've had the world's easiest baby who turned into a terror of a toddler.  Then I had Ezra--and well, he's the third, so, you know (right???).  I've had them all.  I've been so deep in the pit of postpartum depression, I scared myself and didn't tell a soul.  I know how difficult motherhood can be.  It's exhausting and there are times you feel you just can't do it anymore.  And you know what?  It's really okay to say that out loud!  And it's okay to ask for help, and it's okay to cry, and it's okay to pick yourself back up--with help, if you want--and keep going.  There is no shame in the game, as these kids these days are saying.  I also know how rewarding motherhood is, and how we often need just a few minutes to regroup so we can remember that.  Sometimes we need a friend to remind us of that, too.

These are the things we need to be doing for each other.  We need to be raising each other up, not counting points as we tear each other down.  "Therefore, encourage one another, and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing."  --1 Thess. 5:11

Mamas, please allow me to be your unicorn.  I would love to do these things, and more, for you.

For you fellow unicorns--I freaking love you.  You're amazing and incredible and great job and keep on and please don't ever stop!!!!

For those of you thinking about unicorning--take up your alicorn, mount it right on your forehead for the world to see, and join us!

Because--well, you already know--you're unicorns, babes.