Pity Party Pep Talk

Let's face it, you'll never see me driving around with a "Too Blessed to be Stressed" bumper sticker on my Jeep.  As tremendously blessed as I am, I will always find something to be stressed about.  This is just who I am and how I'm wired.  

Do you ever have one of those days where the "what qualifies for normal in your life" things you deal with day in and day out hit you like a ton of bricks and stop you in your tracks?  I had that day Tuesday.  The sad thing is, Tuesday was really a great day for our family. Just the enormity of everything we've had thrown at us in the past 8 months hit me really hard for some reason.  I was sitting with Noah doing his work and just suddenly felt overwhelmed by all the reasons we're homeschooling our son:  Bullying, three different schools in five years, a house we can't sell to get to a better school and neighborhood, the issues we've had with our neighbors, Noah's four diagnoses--some days it just feels like the list goes on.  My shoulders sank with the weight of it and I wanted to cry.  I was having a pity party.  

I emailed one of my good friends and laid it all out for her.  I know how blessed we are.  I know Noah is the same kid he was in December before these diagnoses.  The distinction now is that we have names for his differences, so we are learning how to help him better.  I know I am loved by my husband and we have two wonderful boys, who we are tremendously lucky to have. Best of all, we are growing closer to God as a family and developing that necessary relationship.  I just felt a little bit stuck in my rut.

In turn, my friend laid it all for me in her return email pep talk.  For whatever reason, God has had us stay in this particular neighborhood.  The bad news people are slowly moving out and some good news people are moving in.  God has provided us with everything necessary to homeschool Noah and provide a good life for our children.  Our kids are happy, healthy and well loved. Yes, a lot has happened, but we're persevering and moving forward.   We may not be where we want to be, but we're where God wants us to be.  I need to stop dwelling on what has happened and start being grateful for what is happening.

Wednesday morning, I started worrying again:  Am I too protective of Noah?  Am I going about this all wrong?  I've not only allowed him to run from most of the problems we've come across, but I've helped him run.  I tell myself it's because the world is unable to conform to him and right now, I can't expect him to be able to conform to the world.  But am I lying to myself?  I won't allow Noah to use any of this as an excuse to not be successful in life; instead, I want him to be successful in spite of and because of everything he's been through and is going through.  Thank goodness I have friends who keep me straight.  Yes, we've run away from problems in the past, but now we've turned around to face them head-on.  We've restructured our lives in ways to help Noah become a confident, successful child.  My friend assured me that Noah is not a brat in desperate need of structure and discipline.

So today, I'm taking stock.  I'm incredibly proud of Noah and how well he is adjusting to the many changes that have happened.  For a child who doesn't handle change well, most days he's handling it better than I am.  Tuesday he had a lot of schoolwork to accomplish due to catch-up from Monday, but we only had one real behavioral problem.  He stuck to it and did a fantastic job.  Wednesday, he was finished with his work by 11:30, even after going on to do two assignments that were on the schedule for tomorrow.  He took the initiative to do that part himself.  Schoolwork for the rest of the week has gone just as well. Noah seems happier and even though it's only the first week of school, this program really seems to be working well for him.  We're already seeing a positive difference:  Noah gets automatic results, has a schedule on his board to look at that shows visible/tangible progress and he feels successful (because he is).  Tuesday, even after his school work was complete, after his down time, he was still on the ball.  He wanted to be helpful with Avery, got through his chores and aimed to do more so he could earn a tv show.  Noah accomplished more yesterday with less fussing than I think I've ever seen.  Why?  Because we're teaching him how capable he really is.  Because we're giving him the type of structure he needs.  Because we love him.  Because I'm doing my best to go about this the right way.

Thank goodness I have friends who give me a good swift kick in the tush when I need it.  They ground me and keep me on track.

So, today I'm signing off--


--but we'll see what happens tomorrow!

The Baby Bug and Faulty Memories

Noah, Miracle #1

Avery, Miracle #2

Not too long ago, Shawn and I jokingly made a deal: I could have 3 cats or 3 kids.  We currently have 3 cats.  We also recently realized we don't feel like our family is complete.  I haven't been told yet that I have to give up one of the cats or one of the boys we already have (or which one)!   Fortunately, Shawn just might have the baby bug worse than I do, so hopefully I won't have to make that decision!

 Shawn and I wanted a large family right from the get-go.  We both came from disconnected families and wanted to start over with own our family, making sure our own kids grew up in a large, connected family.  That didn't happen (the large family part). You see, it's been a long, hard road for us to get to a family of four.

Finally, the Furr Family of FOUR!

Both of our boys are miracles (I know, I know, all children are miracles, but I just feel like our boys are more special because of our circumstances).   I got sick right after Noah was born and between the meds and what the diseases were doing to my body, we were told there wouldn't/couldn't be anymore babies. When Noah was 3, we had a miscarriage that made that proclamation ring even louder and more dismal.  We couldn't believe it when I went into a remission several years later that my doctors had told us was impossible and still can't explain (I can!).  Our family was given a great gift when we were finally able to get pregnant with Avery.  We're just not ready to give that up yet, even with all the new problems I seem to be having and with Autism Spectrum Disorders 'apparently' running through our family (does one child constitute 'running through the family'?).  We don't want this to be something we regret later on in life, but we want to make the best decision for everyone concerned, including our as-of-yet, not yet conceived child.

The thing is, Shawn and I both have terribly faulty memories when it comes to raising infants.  We romanticize things a little too much.  At 'work' the other day, I was given the blessing of rocking and singing a three-month old little boy to sleep. And the smiles he gave me as he was falling asleep, oh, melt my heart!  What a joy it was!  I still get teary thinking about it!  It's been quite a while since Avery has settled down enough to rock and sing! During the snuggle song in music class, I watch with envy as the other mommies snuggle their little ones, while my rotten little one wanders the room looking for trouble!  Watching two of the pregnant mommies in our Mommy and Me groups grow each week has been an amazing thing to see.  I cherish all the extra cuddles and snuggles I get to experience now that we finally have Avery.  I cherish the 'tidbits of normal' when Asperger's isn't a factor and my boys share a good brotherly moment.

My boys know there are some books Mommy will never get through without tearing up, and I probably won't ever be able to pray over them without crying either.  Those are the times both Shawn and I remember.  He remembers taking over on the weekend nights with Avery for me, cuddling all night in the rocker/recliner, singing Beatles songs to him (completely undoing everything I had accomplished all week, getting Avery to sleep in his crib!).  We do remember Noah's colic and reflux (boy, do we!), but we conveniently block it out when talking about another child.  We remember his toothless smiles, his early accomplishments that we loved to brag about as first time parents.  I loved every single moment of pregnancy, feeling their little bodies growing inside mine, loving each little kick and roll they did (okay, maybe not so much when they jammed their feet in my ribs!).  Even their hiccups were fun!  I know there were labor pains (especially with Avery!), but again, I am conveniently able to not remember just how bad they were (even though one of my friends never misses the chance to remind me how I looked with my feet on the dashboard of the Jeep, clutching my belly,  screaming, "THIS HURTS!" when we dropped Noah at her house at 2:30 in the morning)!  Something about parental hormones and (lack of) brain function helps us remember the good times and block out the bad ones (is that so we have more kids?).  

I used to pine after having a daughter.  I actually argued with the sonogram technicians over both of my boys being boys:  "Are you SURE? 100% CERTAIN that is a penis on my child?  That looks like the umbilical cord to me."  As it turned out, the sonogram techs were correct both times.  And now, each night as I tuck my boys into bed and again as I check on them before heading to bed myself, I realize I wouldn't trade my sons for a million daughters.  So, if God sees fit to bless us with another child, he (or she!) will be welcomed with open, loving arms (colic or not--but preferably not!).  And who knows, maybe this time I'll argue with the sonogram technician again:  "Are you SURE?  100% CERTAIN there is NOT a penis on my child?  Are you POSITIVE that's just the umbilical cord?"