Calming the Storm

Wow. That's all I can say. In the past week, I have been blessed with an overflowing of love and support from so many. It's been quite humbling to receive all your emails, Facebook messages, phone calls, etc. I am beyond touched. I aplogize that I have not gotten back to all of you. As much as I covet and love all your advice and personal stories, it became overwhelming at times and I have had to step back intermittently for breaks. Thank you for your patience and understanding.

This past week has been a roller coaster of emotions. Even though I expected the Asperger's diagnosis, it took a while to sink in that we had graduated from "possibility" to "reality". James, especially, has had a more difficult time processing everything. Unlike me, he didn't see the signs as clearly and really did not believe there was a diagnosis to be made. Therefore, it came as quite a shock to him and the reality of it took its toll on both of us. I shed a lot of tears last week.

I am in the process of setting up all the necessary meetings with the school district in order to accommodate John's unique learning style. It's an arduous, lengthy process. The paperwork is both daunting and redundant. I find myself in a position of uncertainty and unfamiliarity. It's uncomfortable and I don't like it. The meetings ahead are also intimidating. Praise God my mother, who has been a teacher for nearly 30 years, speaks the "code" (the endless series of acronyms that the legal process uses) and has offered to attend the meetings with us to translate and assist. The process is tiring and I worry that John will struggle until we can get these steps in place.

I spent a good deal of time this past week researching and learning what I can. At times I literally had to walk away from the computer. The information (thankfully) is abundant and it was overwhelming sifting through the various websites and documents and making sense of what did or did not pertain to our circumstances. We are blessed that John is very high functioning, but in some ways, that seems to limit the number of options for therapy available to him. Add to that the difficulty of finding a reputable facility near us that accepts our insurance and offers the type of help that John needs – it seems an insurmountable task. After days of combing the internet and numerous phone inquiries, I came up empty-handed and felt quite defeated and discouraged. I still do. There were several times I wanted to quit searching and go back to the status quo. For John's sake, that's not an option. I did, however, give myself permission to abstain from research or discussion of Asperger's for the better part of the weekend. My mind and heart were weary and I needed a break.

Friday night, we sat John down and told him the diagnosis. We both felt it was in his best interest to understand why things would be different this school year and he would receive some special assistance prior to the start of school today. The main thing I wanted to convey to him was that he had no need to be ashamed or embarrassed. This is the way God made John and he is perfect in God's eyes. I began by telling John that God had given him a most special gift. God had given John a special mind that was able to think in ways that his Daddy and I and others cannot. John is able to perceive information differently that most people and that makes him special. I explained that he had an Asperger's mind. His face scrunched up. “That's a funny word. What does it mean?" he asked. I gently but firmly said, “John, you are not sick. This is not a disease and you are not going to die. You don't have to take pills for this or get shots. This is simply how God made you. He chose you to have this special gift.” 

I told him how it was the Asperger's that was causing his difficulty concentrating and why he got so easily frustrated. I noticed his eyes begin to well up with tears and his face started to crumple. In that moment, my stomach dropped. Had we made a mistake? Was it wrong to tell him the truth? I asked him what was wrong; what he was thinking. He looked up at me and asked, “Mom, is the Asperger's why I am different from the other kids? Is that why I'm not good at certain things? Is the Asperger’s what's wrong with me?”

I was just about to reassure him that nothing was wrong with him, when he suddenly broke into a smile and added, "Or should I say… what's right with me?!?”

I knew then that my son will be just fine.

He asked a few more questions before I kissed him good night, and as I turned to leave the room he suddenly asked, “Mom, am I allowed to say Assperger's or do I need to call it Buttperger's?” He was totally serious. I don't think I have laughed that hard in all my life. Thank you, Jesus, for giving us calm in the midst of our storms.

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Beauty From Ashes

Life isn't fair. We learn that as toddlers and life continues to prove the point repeatedly as we mature. As humans, we plan our lives exactly as we would chose them to be, but, inevitably, we are thrown curve balls that alter the dream and paths we hoped to follow and we must build new dreams and alternate paths to achieve them.

Yesterday, life threw our family such a curve ball. It was not totally unexpected - at least on my part. But somehow, hearing it made official, seeing the words written on paper, was more difficult that I anticipated. I have suspected since he was four months old. The clues were there. The signs were there. But it didn't have to be real because no one had officially "made it so". Now it is official.

My son has Asperger's.

Asperger's syndrome, also called Asperger's disorder, is part of the Autism Spectrum and is a type of pervasive developmental disorder (PDD). PDDs are a group of conditions that involve delays in the development of many basic skills, most notably the ability to socialize with others, to communicate, and to use imagination.

Hearing those words from licensed professionals; seeing them written in black and white… suddenly, all the original dreams we had for our son changed. It hurts. I don't know how to raise a child with "special needs". I don't know how to protect him. I don't even know how to tell him. I only have nine years til he moves out of my house and goes off to college. Nine years to teach him how to deal with a world that he sees completely differently than me. Nine years to teach him how to break through his own barriers and become a functioning member of society - a task that is counter-intuitive to the way God wired him.

But God did wire him.

My son is made perfectly in God's image. God loves him even more than I do and He has plans for my son that even I cannot fathom or predict. My heart is broken for my son and the difficult road ahead for him. My heart breaks for the nine years we did not have a diagnosis and he struggled to function the way he thought we expected him to. My heart breaks for multiple times in the last nine years when I, his Mommy, did not meet his needs or respond in a way he understood. He must have felt so alone at times. My heart is breaking over the label "special needs" that will be written on school forms from here on out. I pray his self image never suffers from these words on a page. My heart is breaking for his lifelong challenges with finding and building relationships. I pray God puts loving people in his path that will love my son because of who he is, not in spite of it. I pray God helps my husband and myself find equal ground in the days and years ahead so that we can be a united front and a safe place for John to land when he needs it.

Our family is embarking on a new journey. My son hasn't changed, but our understanding of him has. His world hasn't changed, but now we will (hopefully) be able to provide him the tools to navigate it more easily.

There are so many people out there so much farther long in this journey than I am. I welcome and covet your insight and any tips that have helped you guide and raise your children. What worked, what didn't work, what resources or therapy were most helpful?

Lastly, please pray for our family, especially James, myself and John, as we re-learn how to relate to each other and seek appropriate outside therapy and resources - that we would be guided to the right places.

God does not make mistakes. My son is a perfect example of God's beauty displayed differently than what is perceived as "normal".

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Who wants dinner???

Well, our critter trap is at it again! We never did catch the Mama possum last summer and she's back to nesting in our flower beds. I guess she had another litter because we caught another one of her babies tonight.

This little fellow was feisty and not at ALL interested in playing "possum". He wanted revenge for his captivity. (Poor misguided fellow.) We plan to drive him about 10 miles out and set him free. John said why bother... he'll probably end up road kill anyway! =) Dinner, anyone?

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YAY! My kids are colorblind!

Most of my readers are aware that we spent nearly 4 years living in the San Francisco Bay Area. We learned much about culture shock while living there, as it was quite like moving to a foreign country. The SF bay area is a melting pot of ultra-diverse ethnicities and we quickly discovered that Caucasians were minorities. I have never experienced how it felt to truly be a minority group until then. It was interesting. There were over 150 different languages spoken in the city we lived in alone. Here is a pie chart of the demographics in the city we lived in:

As this graphic demonstrates, Caucasians are considerably outnumbered. I was reminded of my minority status most at my sons' preschool. I LOVED their preschool. It breaks my heart that Jossilyn won't be able to attend that wonderful school. However, when John attended, he was one of four. caucasians in his class. The rest were of Asian descent. Matthew was the ONLY caucasian in his class. Again, the rest were Asian. When John started Kindergarten in Cali, again, he was surrounded by children of multiple ethnicities and backgrounds.

As a result of this exposure during my sons' early, formidable years, they became extremely color blind. They never noticed or realized that they were "different" than the rest of their classmates. When we moved back to Texas, they brought that racial innocence with them. I have NEVER had a talk with my children about how some people have different color skin or some people speak differently. I never had to. My kids only saw people... not the differences.

A few days ago, I had a hilarious reminder that my sons still carry this gift with them. Our family recently had the opportunity to spend some time at a housewarming party for some friends. We were having so much fun that we completely overstayed our welcome and soon found we were the only guests left along with the host family.

James and his friend were outside on the porch when Matthew (my 6 yr old) walked out. He studied James' friend for a minute and then blurted out, "Your whole family is black!!"

James was shocked and a little embarrassed, but our friends took it well and laughed. Then Matthew continued, "But your WHOLE family is black!!" as if he couldn't quite figure out why they weren't a mixture of races. The funniest part of it was that Matthew was genuinely surprised by this discovery.

I pray my children always view the world so simply and see people for their character rather than their color. What a gift the innocence of children is!

On another note... today is my Daddy's 62nd birthday!!! Happy birthday, Daddy! I love you so much and I'm so thankful that I am blessed to be your daughter.

Two days ago was my parents' 41st wedding anniversary! Congratulations to both of you and thank you for being such a solid example of what real, lasting love is and how a marriage should work. It IS possible to be married to the same person for 4 decades, still love them, still LIKE them, and remain completely faithful to them. Good to know. =)

Here's a snapshot of my sweaty, dirty girl at the park yeserday. LOVE my Jossilyn Claire!

Jossilyn is a hoot! She does the funniest things. I love watching how her little two-year old mind works and what makes sense to her. Yesterday, she brought a toy car to me, "parked" it, and scampered away. Here is the parking spot of her choosing:

This past week has been Vacation Bible School (VBS) for my kids. (For my European friends, VBS is like a 5-day Bible camp at church that is held every summer at most churches.) This week was particularly nostalgic for me as my boys attended VBS at the same church I attended for VBS when I was their age. For some of my friends who have been fortunate enough to live in the same place their whole life, that is probably no big deal. I moved around so much and never really had one "place" to call home. So for me, it is extremely special for my kids to be living in the same town where I spent my early childhood, attending the same VBS that I did, and making the same special memories that I carry to this day.

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Father's Day Bliss

This past Christmas, we gave our boys a go kart, which they LOVED! I swear that thing is more work to maintain than a car! For every two days they get to ride it, it spends a week broken in some form or fashion. It's no wonder since the boys push that sucker to it's max of 30 mph! Nearly three months ago, James decided to take a ride on the wild side of the go kart, nearly rolled it, and consequently bent the frame so severely it has been out of commission ever since. We needed a welder to fix it.

Enter my dear friend Robin Rollins' husband Dan into the picture. Dan is a master welder and while they were visiting us for a few days last month, Dan offered to fix the go kart next time he was in town. Turns out he came into town yesterday, on Father's Day. Dan the Man, brought along his Welder and tools and set to work practically rebuilding part of the framework. His hard work paid off in the looks on my boys' faces when they took the go kart for a spin for the first time in 3 months! Priceless!

 

Thank you SO MUCH, Mr. Dan, for spending your Father's Day making my boys so happy! And thank you, James, for helping!! A little grease never hurt anyone, right?

Jossilyn had her own Father's Day treat surprise for us. She decided to seranade us with her rousing rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star… over and over and over again. I guess the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. ;-) I managed to get a little of it on video. Enjoy! (She's quite serious about her performance and quite proud of the response.)

Another cute "Jossilynism" from yesterday… we had a Father's Day lunch with James' dad and family at Olive Garden. While there, I took Jossilyn into the ladies' room with me. As we were washing hands, an elderly woman in a wheelchair came in. She smiled at Jossilyn and said, "I like your bow!" Jossilyn eyed her from head to toe, and then in an effort to return the compliment, she replied, "I like your bike!" (At least the lady laughed out loud!)

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Time for a Change

I got to feeling antsy last night and needed a creative outlet. Rather than redecorate my home at midnight, I opted to give the blog a face lift. After two years with the old look, it was time for a change, don't you think? Do you like it? Leave a comment and give me your feedback. Unless you hate it. Then, keep your comments to yourself. That way, I'll just think I am a true design genius. (Or something like that.)

We spent today celebrating my sweet nephew, Grant's, first birthday! After a long year of constant, unexplained illness and multiple hospital stays, Little G is finally feeling stronger. He still has a compromised immune system, and my sister has to be careful what environments she exposes him to, but we are so blessed and thankful that his health seems to be under control for the time being.

Happy birthday, Little G!!!!!!!!

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It's Raining Pee

Nine pairs of panties? Check. A week of complete dedication? Check. Toddler willingness? Check. I was armed and ready to tackle the potty training monster for the third and final time. Looking back at my eager and fearless attitude, only a few days ago, I can't help but smile at that young, naive girl and her dreams. Okay, maybe just naive. Has it really been so long that I have forgotten the frustrations and setbacks of potty training?? Apparently so.

My ammo pack…

One critical item I neglected to factor in was our still-not-completely-housebroken puppy. Paris is much better than she was at "going" outside. But her little bladder is so teeny that she has to "go" all the freaking time. Enter Jossilyn into that picture. She wants to use the potty chair. She desires to do the right thing. However, her thimble-sized bladder she apparently inherited from her mother is not always able to comply with Jossilyn's wish to "hold it".

Therefore, I suddenly find myself side-stepping puddles at every turn. There are puddles on the carpet, puddles on the wood, puddles on the tile, puddles on the couch(!)… It's so out of control, I don't know who's nose to rub in what! How does one determine the puddle culprit? Is there a method? If Jossilyn had a tail, it would be neatly tucked betwixt her legs, just as Paris' is. They both cower and run from me when my nice and dry foot suddenly submerges is a warm, freshly made pool. Are they conspiring against me? I'm beginning to wonder.


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