Don't Say That...

I really have a hard time hearing "You must be a wonderful mommy for God to have picked you to have such special children" or anything that resembles this statement. It isn't because I don't want to think I might be special or because it is hard to hear that God CHOSE this situation for me (though I will admit, if that is how it all went down, I hope He'll one day tell me how He came to this decision), but because it is insulting to parents of typical kids. When I tell people about our situation (which gets more complicated daily) I don't want them to fall all over themselves to make me feel better and I CERTAINLY don't want them to do so by insulting someone else. It is so... Petty. I really hate how much of parenting is now a competition to be better and do better and have better looking, smarter, better behaved kids. What a crock. First of all, who cares. Your kids are your kids and you love them. That's enough. You teach them what you know and learn together the things you don't know and do your best. I know there are parents out there who don't but I am pretty certain it isn't because they just don't care enough. You can't meet the basic needs of someone else if your own needs are not met- it is that simple. But the vast majority of parents try and in this scenario that effort has to be enough.

Guess what else. You can't judge someone else for their decisions until you've walked down the path they've walked. I don't care how you *think* you'd respond or what you *think* you'd do- you don't know. To say "This is what I would do if I were in your shoes" is a waste of breath, because you can't know that. And what makes you think they want your advice so much anyway.

Of course, there are situations where you see someone has made a mistake and you could certainly point it out for them, but chances are, they don't need your help with that. They probably feel bad enough. Just a short while back I saw a mistake- I felt terrible for them- I worried over how to say the right thing without adding to the guilt- in the end I just said "I'll help." Duh.

Lately, I've been feverently praying that God would help me develop a tougher skin. You see, autism and asperger's are basically invisible which means, unless you are putting your kid in a t-shirt that says "I have ASD- You are just a jerk" or some other very obvious announcement, you are going to get a few comments. The last few weeks I have felt this immensely. And it seemed like this outspokenness was a virus spreading to people I didn't know as well as those I knew and trusted. I put a bit too much emphasis on how other people judge my parenting- it is one area that I have little to no self-confidence, so I have been slowly building myself back up after these hits. It is hard to do.

I think I put a lot of effort into parenting my children. I push them to give 100% even if that 100% looks like 25% to the rest of the world. I am almost militaristic when it comes to manners- 3 of my 4 kids learned "please and thank you" before they learned their own names. I really want them to be successful and courteous and I try to impress that on their little brains.

M is on the verge of being diagnosed with... something. The psychologist thinks Asperger's, others think ADHD, I think- I can't handle whatever it is because some days I feel like the last 6 years have been tougher than I ever imagined parenting could be. Asperger's/ADHD on the outside it looks like bad behavior, lack of discipline... Autism looks much the same.

So, here I sit- thinking it all through. Writing it all down so I can remember the blessings in these moments. I have seen articles about Tiger Moms and Dragon Moms and Velveteen Moms, which is better, which produces better kids, and I just think to myself- maybe it isn't what kind of mom I want to be but what kind of mom my children need me to be.

M needs me to be forgiving- he is impulsive and easily frustrated and he needs me to remember where we were 2 years ago, a year ago, 6 months ago and see the progress he's made, before we've even embarked on the journey to name the issues he faces.

L needs me to be silly- he needs to laugh and play and be little because that is who he is and who he may forever be. I can't change that, but I can embrace it.

J needs me to be cuddly- she needs to be coddled and loved no matter how tough she looks and acts. She is a spirited girl who is the first to yell "I'm okay" when she hits the ground, but sometimes a Dora band-aid really is more important than telling her to rub some dirt in it.

C needs me to be alone with her- because my aunt said it just right "She wishes she were an only child." My poor baby girl really just wants some attention just for her and rather than demanding it she is happy to wait until I have that time. I need to make sure I am making that time.

So, forgive me world, if I ignore your comments and just go about my day. Forgive me if I snap at you to mind your own business or tell you "that it's a good thing my hands are full b/c I don't have a spare one to flip you off." I really am sorry I won't live up to your standards, because up til now I thought that was something that really mattered and it is hard to let that go. I know there will be comments and looks and sighs and they will probably get under my skin like a splinter some days, but avoiding those things by not going out won't do us any good and stressing over those things only makes me grouchy to my kids. I am officially entering the phase of "I don't give a crap," so be warned and try not to cross me.

Funny for the day:

M: What day do we leave for the beach?
Me: Friday.
M: Have I ever been there?
Me: Yep, just before you turned 2.
M: Do I remember it?
Me: I don't know. If you do it probably isn't a very good memory. You knocked your front tooth out there.
M: Where did I lose my tooth?
Me: At the zoo.
M: I wonder which animal got my tooth fairy money- I bet it was a monkey and I bet he lost the money because he doesn't have any pockets. We should ask him.
Me: Um- yes.

-LL
"profiter de la doublure d'argent"

And yet, I am laughing...

Yesterday, I made a stupid mistake. I was already emotional and battling through some stuff personally and here at home, so I knew better, but sometimes I get in a situation where I can't help but look. And looking is dangerous. I read a story about a family with two sons with autism. The boys are adults, they still live at home and they won't ever be able to care for themselves. I was okay until the article said "I try to never think past dinner." Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. Our first inclination as parents is to plan for the future lives for our children, to talk about college and weddings and babies, even before we've moved them out of the house. For plenty of parents it never works out the way they planned it, and that is a tough cookie to swallow, all by itself, but I realize that I am now in the category of people who won't dream those dreams for at least one of my children. That is not to say that I am resigned that L will live here until we die, but I know for certain, that even when joking about his charm and looks that I am, deep down, cautioning myself not to get my hopes up. Which is kinda crappy. Or rather, extremely crappy.

But there is another side, a lighter side, if you will, of being in this position. I don't have to stress about things like "will he take high school seriously and not make the mistakes that I made and will he love God and go to college and explore the world and marry a girl I like and will she let me plan some of the wedding and will he still love me when he's a teenager and will he talk bad about me in therapy and will I be a good grandmother to his children and will he have a good job and so on and so on and so on." I won't encourage you to analyze the questions you have about your children's future- it is time consuming and frankly, kind of boring from my side of the fence, just know that I know that you worry and fret and pray and seek on behalf of your children and that is amazing and wonderful and special. I, though, am not going to put much effort into these flights of fancy, not because they won't come true ever, because, who knows, they might, but rather, because it is a waste of my time to worry about these things when there is no promise whether L is autistic or typical.

That's right typical parents- your kids could stay home forever too. There is no promise, despite our best efforts and heartfelt parenting strategies, that our kids will ever be self sufficient. And, this time, it doesn't necessarily have to do with crappy parenting or poor values (although, face it, it does play a part, sometimes). Your kid may just be lazy. Your kid may just decide that whining and crying and freaking out will make life easier than actually doing the work. And, dollars to donuts, they know EXACTLY how to break your will so you step in the solve the problem.

I am not laughing at your situation, I am in the same one, though mine has less uncertainty (with one of my kids- the other 3- totally up for grabs). I'm simply pointing out the fact that, for once, we are on the same playground. This is probably the first time ever I have WANTED to comfort the parent of a typically developing cookie cutter kid. I am not being mean- it's just hard to do when I am in my own head. I am a big fan of "whatever your emotion is you are allowed to have it, despite the circumstances others find themselves in." It's a long drawn out way of saying "it's my party and I'll cry if I want to."

My point? I guess it is to realize that I can stop feeling sad about "losing something" that no one has anyway. Promise of a future. None of us have it.

To end the post, I'll give you some more insight into my life.
Conversation with M:

I was in the bathroom cleaning myself up after having spent 20 minutes sobbing because my emotions are CRAZY right now (I am not pregnant) and M comes in.
M: What are you doing?
Me: Having a moment...
M: Why is your face all red like that?
Me: It was a tough moment.
M: Did you need to go to the bathroom and it was really hard?

Yep.

-LL
"profiter de la doublure d'argent"

I am AWESOME...

Some days I look around and think "I suck." Some days I look around and think "eh- I'm not so bad." Then there are days, though few lately, that I look around and realize "I am AWESOME!" Anytime I come across one of those days I need to celebrate it. Today- was that day. I was productive today. I gave my husband advice for a situation in the REAL WORLD and it worked! Yep, I still have the ability to communicate with other grown ups. This is exciting. M and I finally found a way to break through the barrier of frustration with his reading. I called a bunch of people, I cleaned out my car, the garage, I did a puzzle with J and she identified 17 letters correctly, I prayed my heart out for a family, I shared J's story with a family to give them hope, I made my grocery list, I made some important appointments, I emailed some people, I worked on more fund raising stuff. Come on! Get on this bandwagon! I am awesome!

And yet...

I will still have bad days. I will still not forgive myself for the pile of laundry in the laundry room. I will still worry about this thing or that thing. I will still ignore a phone call I should have taken, spend a dollar I shouldn't have spent, yelled when I should have whispered, talked when I should have listened, taken when I should have given, and run when I should have walked. I am human after all.

Today is a day that I say "I am awesome." But also a day when I realize how much grace I need from God. Sometimes I don't lean on Him because, hey, I'm amazing, but today won't be that day. I lose my temper, I cry, I get frustrated, and I need to remind myself to say a prayer and take a moment rather than react out of anger.

So, right now, while I feel amazing and my day has been pretty spectacular, I am giving it to God and acknowledging that I need Him now, when I am doing well, and not just when things are bad or hard.

Because, as awesome as I can be at some things, God can be unbelievably awesome at everything.

And because every post needs a laugh, I leave you with this:
Me: "J, what do you have?"
J: "Candy."
Me: "Is it smarties?"
J: "Yes"
Me: "Can I have some?"
J: "Yes, you can have a fartie!"
Me: "Now that you mention it, it does kind of taste like a fartie."
J: "Yeah."
-LL
"profiter de la doublure d'argent"

Lonely Days Are Here Again

I am sure MANY moms ran across this article at some point in the last few months:
http://www.parentdish.com/2007/05/24/what-do-stay-at-home-moms-do-all-day

I read it and thought, wow, she must just not know. I felt a bit sorry for the girl writing the question (and also, thought a bit of self-reflection might be needed- who wants to hang out with someone who doesn't want to hang out with you?)

Today, though, it hit me a different way. Being a stay at home parent can be incredibly isolating. Being a working parent can be very isolating. Something about parenting, in general, pushes us back to our homes rather than social situations more often than not. I choose not to do things because I'd have to haul four kids out with me. I am one of the more active mother's of four out there. My calendar is full of appointments and I try to do field trips for homeschooling on top of it. So, there it is. At some point all mothers feel isolated (dads too).

Now, let's throw a kink in the equation. What about mothers of special needs children? I thought about all of the going and doing we don't do with others because of social integration issues and thought of the many instances we haven't been invited because the behaviors exhibited are not among the social norm and thought about the amount of judgement we face when we do go out (everyone judges, even people with special needs kids of their own- society has turned motherhood into a competition, which does a major disservice to our children, but I digress) and realized that a lot of my stress and feelings of being overwhelmed comes from isolation. Not just isolation imposed by me because it is easier, but also, isolation imposed by others because what I have to offer isn't the right thing.

I find myself feeling jealous of facebook posts bragging of a night out or an afternoon spent with just friends. I am downright loathsome of mom's who go on annual retreats with a group of friends. I find myself wondering just what I am missing that keeps me from being a part of a community of friends. Crap, even Denise Richards (ex-wife of Charlie The Warlock- Sheen) has a group of friends that meet up monthly to support each other. Come on! She's a husband stealing back stabber! (She maintains that Richie Sambora and Heather Locklear were already separated, but I get my facts from Dlisted.com and Michael K says otherwise) So, what is it?

Some days I wonder if having a special needs child really separates me that much from the general population? Sometimes I wonder if my effort to stay mainstreamed rather than seeking out a parent standing in my shoes is a HUGE mistake. Before I knew that I had a special needs child or children, I never felt so alone. I felt like I had something in common with every mother I met, simply because we both had children. Sometimes I can't help but get the feeling that I am viewed as one rung less on the ladder of motherhood because my child is "broken." I cannot compete with mothers of children the same age as mine. Theirs will likely be better behaved, have better social skills, have abilities mine may never learn, etc. I don't try to compete. When I hear about a friend's child doing a great job at something, I applaud that. It's great that little Jr. can jump 6 feet though my child can hardly take 10 steps without tripping. I actually do like hearing that little Dolly can recite all of Hamlet though my child can't say his own name. I don't want pity. I am the same as the other mothers out there. I don't want people to withhold news about their children. I can handle the disappointment that comes with it.

There are not many perks to having a special needs child. People might say "you are special because God gave you that job," or "What a blessing to see a child so innocent." I don't feel special, but I don't feel crapped on either. God gave me what was mine. They are all mine. And I don't think it will be a blessing that my child remains innocent when I am gone and his innocence is left in the hands of others, who may not look out for his needs as I have. There aren't a lot of words that can be said, except "He's adorable." I never tire of hearing that.

I run into isolation, depression, anguish, worry, doubt, fear, anger, jealousy, just like any other mother. I don't want to be shielded from the harsh realities of life
because I am having a bad day or a bad week or a bad month or a bad year or a bad life. I am still an adult on equal footing with other mothers. I deserve more than I am giving myself. I know there are people in my life already who genuinely care for me, but who do not understand my life. That's okay. I love them anyway and don't wish a moment of my day upon them. (Though it's their loss because we have some pretty awesome moments) I just want to reconnect with the world at large, but mostly with someone who I can cry to and not have them feel bad for me, just have them understand me. I want someone who laughs with me about cleaning up poop at 2 am for the 4th day in a row. I want someone to see that my finding a bright side doesn't mean that I consider everything else a dark cloud. I want someone who will stand by my decisions when it comes to my children and not question them. I have enough worry that I'm screwing up. Maybe this is what all mothers look for in a friend. I don't know. I just know that if I were in 1st grade and the teacher asked me to draw a picture of my best friend this is what she'd look like.

And, because I know you are curious, the perks associated with having special needs children are as follows (I am sure there are more but these are the ones I've experienced so far):
1. I have awesome problem solving skills
2. I almost always have a witty comeback for judgmental comments
3. I don't take smiles, giggles, laughs for granted
4. I can accept par or even sub-par as the best someone can do (even if they aren't special needs) because I know that sometimes that really is the best they can do.
5. I have a better sense of humor than you. I can prove this one, because you barely laughed during this whole post and I laughed at least 1 time per paragraph.

-LL
"profiter de la doublure d'argent"

School's In!

Almost. Next week M starts 1st grade. And I start teaching 1st grade. Coincidence? Nope. M keeps referring to his teacher (me) as if he has no idea what she'll (I'll) be like. We homeschooled last year so it isn't like he doesn't get the concept. I may don a wig and call myself Mrs. CopperBottom or Mrs. Habersham or even better Mr. Tomnus to keep up this charade he seems to have created in his head. I am also going to homeschool J. Yes, she's only 3 but it is never too early to get started AND she is desperate to "go to school." We'll just learn colors and numbers and letters and see what happens. L goes back to pre-k for the fall. I am excited for him but I miss him so much when he goes to school all day, unless it is one of THOSE days, then I'm happy for a break.

The beginning of the school year always prompts a lot of late nights and even more introspection. I have to look back at our summer and think of how we spent it. What did we learn? (a pinecone throwing ceremony is still not a reason to misuse your slingshot- a horse rib is, in fact, 2 inches long- some kids can levitate and unlock things- learning to walk is difficult when you get too many hugs- dora makes some people so excited!!!!!- if you even so much as blink someone will be into something somewhere)? Did the kids have fun? (I'm going with yes here, but every other day was punctuated with I'm bored) Did I yell too much (probably) Did I give in too little (no- I definitely gave in as much as I could handle/afford) Will my kids look back and wish for this summer? (Maybe, maybe not- hopefully it comes up in their future therapies as a Happy Place) We did a lot of swimming, some playing, some firework shooting and a little bit of birthday celebrating (my baby girl C is 1!!!) so overall I think it was pretty successful.

So, as we begin our new school year I pray that we will learn what God wants us to learn, live as an example to everyone we meet and be successful in all of our endeavors. I leave you with a smattering of photos from our SUMMER!

















-LL
"profiter de la doublure d'argent"

Potty Training Family Style

I am potty training one 2 year old- J. I was trying to potty train a 4 year old too, but I am NOT cut out for dual potty training and L is not quite ready. Yesterday was rough. SEVERAL accidents, some for attention. Annoying to say the least, but all part of the process. We are well past the halfway point so there is no turning back. J is staying dry through the night 5 out of 7 nights and having 1-2 accidents a day, typically, unless she's mad at me (she's like a dog that chews shoes when you leave, except she just ruins my carpet). Anyway, there was a point to all of this rambling. J is into the mommy daddy baby versions of things. For example, if there is a big rock and a little rock side by side one is the mommy and one is the baby. Imaginative I think since she can find a mommy and a baby for everything and often asks where the daddy is. And until today I thought "this is normal." But we really don't do normal so somewhere the weird had to come. Here it is. J has to potty. # 2. She goes and out comes something not small, then I say "are you all done?" She responds "No, that was the mommy, next is the baby." Me "Do you have a baby in there?" J- "Yes, it is in my booty." A few minutes goes by- she is grunting and working so I say "Maybe you don't have a baby one in there." J's response: "Yes I do! I have a baby one in my booty and I not getting up til it gets out of there! Gosh Dangit!"

Okay- weirdo.

-LL
"profiter de la doublure d'argent"

Getting a lot of action!

Well the blog is, anyway. It's 12:20 am on a Wednesday. I didn't stay up this late to usher in the hump day, I assure you, but nevertheless it was greeted with a smile. Today was a hard day for me. I had a FAB U LOUS weekend with friends and came home so ready to enjoy my family. FAIL. My children stayed up far to late (my plane was delayed so everything was delayed) and were so very grouchy, crabby, mischievous, and all the other words that fit here and mean PUNKS. We are potty training J, and having some mild success and even greater amounts of laundry. We had hopes of dropping C's pacifier this week, but my nerves cannot handle that. I am trying to paint our house, get M's homeschool curriculum sorted, learn more ways to help L transition throughout his day, train for CASA volunteering, plan a baby shower, be a wife to my husband, a friend to my friends and a contributing family member to my family (extended and otherwise) and today it just got the best of me. Some days do that. Some days I look around and wonder just how I'm going to manage this chaos and still give my kids a good memory about that day. Some days I just cry a little extra.

The good thing about these days is that my husband will talk with me about it. He'll listen, try to help if he can and let me cry if I need to. He'll apply logic to my emotions and remind me that today isn't forever. He's pretty amazing that way.

So, even though my week already flipped upside down, even though I, at times today, wished I hadn't gotten off that plane, even though I wonder if I've ever done even one single moment of motherhood correctly, today was good because I do know, above everything else, that my husband believes I am the best wife for him, the best mother for his children and the best looking hottie on the block!

-LL
"profiter de la doublure d'argent"