Substitute Teaching and Grandma

Yesterday was my first day as a Substitute Teacher. 

I am subbing for an RSP teacher at the high school.  It's not a hard job to sub for this teacher, but I'm sure that her job has quite a bit of paperwork involved.  Her last period is IEP...I can't really step in there, so I wait in the office to see if there is something else that I can do. Yesterday I had about 5 minutes of work gathering students in PE until a teacher showed up from a meeting she was in.

Other than that, the RSP teacher is in collaboration with other teachers except for one period where she has the learning center. There she has an aid and yesterday she asked a guest speaker to come in. All I had to do in there was roll.

I know that there are days when work will be hard, but so far I am just working hard to stay awake.

After the whole day of sitting,  I got home to my mom coming in and informing us that our time table as far as my grandma moving in is concerned has been moved up. She will be home next Wednesday.

Okay.

So here I sit at the school again, feeling like I'm wasting time and space while the clock is ticking on prep work for my grandmother's move in. It's just not good.
On top of all that, Becca has a softball end of season party tonight and a game tomorrow that she has to bring snacks for, the twins have cheer tomorrow, and someone has to get them everywhere they need to be prepared for everything.

Can you feel my frustration?

I know I'm not alone. Tony and my mom are going to be doing quite a bit of work this weekend. It's not just me. Still,  I feel the need to do more. I am stressed because I feel like I'm not doing anything.  It's not good because stress doesn't jive with MS.

This day will be over soon. The week will pass. Things will be calm again. God has this under control.

I'll just continue to say this to myself over and over.

Entitlement and Groceries

I discovered something about my son yesterday. He hates the attitude of entitlement in many disabled people.

Before I tell the story, I should explain that Micah doesn't define "disabled" as a lack of ability. He uses the word as more of a group designation. He has heard the word applied to many people in his life who have incredible abilities.  He has heard it applied to him and he doesn't feel limited. For him "disabled" mostly means that you get a close parking spot.

All that being said, you can understand his lack of patience with people who use the word "disabled" to mean that they should get away with things that don't follow the rules of polite society.

Yesterday we were in an especially long line in the grocery store, and a gentleman in a wheelchair was slowly making his way through the line behind us with his huge cart full of groceries asking people if he could go in front of them because he was disabled. The man was in a wheelchair. One leg was missing, but other than that, by all appearances he was fine. Of course, we all know that there could have been many other things happening in his life and health, even though they did not show.

Micah didn't care.

He normally isn't so terribly insensitive, but I could tell that this guy was on his nerves. He came up behind us and said, "excuse me, could I go ahead of you? I'm disabled." This was the same thing he had said to 4 people behind us who were only holding a few things compared to his huge full cart. Micah wasn't having it. He turned and said "no. I'm disabled.  I stay in line."

Now, if you know me, you know I don't usually put up with rudeness in my kid. I teach compassion in these moments rather than allowing him to continue with the tirade. My problem was that the man decided at that moment to inform me in a very profane way that my child was a horrible person and I was a terrible mother.

I just about lost it.

Thank God they opened another checkout lane right then and asked us if we wanted to switch.  I said, "no thanks. We will stay in our line." The man in the wheelchair said, "well I'll go. At least someone will give me the treatment a disabled person deserves."

He kept talking very loudly through the whole transaction about rude children and terrible parents and the end of civilization (I paraphrase). I just held my boy who was very tense through the whole thing.

We made it up to the front of the line soon after and the man was still there waiting for someone to help him take his groceries to his car. The checkers were apologetic, we shop there quite a bit and they all recognize Micah. They were just trying to diffuse the situation. 

The point that made me so proud was when my boy went up to the bagger and asked if he could bag after the bagger was told that he should go help the man to his car after bagging our stuff. He wasn't mad at the man for needing help, he was mad at him for demanding special treatment. The lady behind us observed my boy and said, "oh, he just gave me chills. He's obviously a great kid. That guy is crazy."

I had a good discussion with Micah in the car afterwards. He was mad about the guy cutting in line while sitting. We talked about not being able to see some pain and stuff in others and always being kind even when people are rude or mean. He said, "I know. I bagged."

Yeah, my kid was rude, but then he tried to be kind. I don't know everything that goes on in his head, but now I know another button that should not be pushed.

Can My Life Get Crazier?

I was helping my mom with apartment hunting last week for my grandma. You see, once my grandma gets out of the rehab facility, she will be unable to stay at her apartment because it just isn't wheelchair accessible. My grandma isn't walking anymore. Apartment hunting was a bust. she's on a couple of 2 year waiting lists, but that is obviously not going to work. 

So where is the solution? Some would say a nursing home. For many reasons that isn't an option for my grandma. The next place available is to live with us. 

What? In my tiny 900 square foot 3 bedroom house that already has 6 people living in it? Yep. So my mom (who was with my grandma) and my grandma are moving in here. Yeah, that means 8 people. 

My one bathroom won't cut it.

The appeal of this house when we first bought it was the attached garage that is partially converted. There's no permits involved, so the whole thing isn't really legally more than a garage, but it does have a small bathroom that we have never used because it needs ventilation to make it legal...and ventilation is very important to me in a bathroom.

The girls have been staying in the garage because there is plenty of room for their two beds (a bunk and a loft) and everything else that goes along with three girls. Now they are moving back to the room in the house that was reserved for my mom (who technically on paper still lives here) and I was using it for an office.

So much for the extra space.

All 3 girls will be in the little room along with my mother, who has said very emphatically that she would rather live in a tiny room with them rather than with her mother.  This will be temporary until we get a travel trailer or something for my mother to live in in our backyard. She really likes that idea and is willing to wait to get it.

The advantage of my house is that since I came home from my own rehab experience in a wheelchair due to my MS, most of my house is already wheelchair accessible...except the garage. Why put my grandma in the garage? Nobody wants to put a hospital bed in a room down my long hallway, the air conditioner in the garage can be set differently than the rest of the house, and she needs way more room for all her stuff. She is, after all, moving from a 3 bedroom apartment to a one room garage. It will also be easy to make the bathroom in there more suitable for her needs.  My main bathroom won't work for her yet.

So, if you know me and have ever been to my house, you know that I'm not an organizational guru. For reals. Far from it. I am also a terrible housewife. I suck big time at regular cleaning and move to my own little beat as far as that goes...and that won't work for my grandma. Sure, I'm a great mom. I pour myself into my family and I know it shows in the people my kids are becoming. Still, I have one huge fault. I'm a mess. 

This mess is what I am dealing with this week to get my grandma moved in. After the mess comes the construction. After at least part of the construction comes the general moving in Grandma's stuff. Then we get Grandma.

I have a lot of work to do.  The girls are already on Thanksgiving break. While I know that their hands will be helpful, I also know that they are kids and I want them to have the time off to be kids, too. This week that will mean playing in the yard quite a bit so they are out of my way.

In the middle of all this, I got a phone call. I am in the system now to substitute teach. This week is only the secondary for the district, but I can do that if I'm available. I don't know how to do this, but I know that our family could use the money, so I'm going to be trying to figure it out. 

So, if I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, do they all have to happen at once?  Good thing I don't have to control them all. 

What Autism Isn't

Autism isn't an excuse to murder your kid.
I complain quite a bit about my struggles, I admit that. I know that I shouldn't. Complaining doesn't fix the problem. Micah is a difficult kid, but he's my kid and I love him. I don't care if I never received a single service for him, he's still my kid and we do what we have to to raise him no matter what is thrown our way.

I get really mad when I hear about parents killing their autistic kids. It's not understandable. I don't care what the circumstances are that make that kid difficult to live with, if you can't handle it you still don't have the right to take that child's life. There is always another way.

I don't mean to sound unfeeling or unsympathetic to the struggle they are facing.  The thing is that I've been in the same struggles.  The lady who threw her autistic kid off a bridge after her husband was diagnosed with MS hit me especially hard. I was mad. This lady is getting all kinds of sympathy and people were saying that they can understand why she did it because autism and MS both are hard. Yes, yes they are. I know. Personally.

Still, that lady needed help. Not money thrown her way, but help from a professional who could address her psychological needs as a person in a difficult situation. Autism and MS are not an excuse for murder. Period. From what I had observed, she had all kinds of warning signs but nobody took her seriously until she threw her 6 year old away. I weep for that boy. I weep for the family. I weep for the people who heard her saying that she was ready to do horrible things to her son but they weren't listening because she was asking for money instead of what she really needed.

Sometimes people don't ask for the things that they are really asking for.

I know I sound judgemental.  Here's the thing, we can't make excuses for people who kill their kids because raising them is hard. It belittles the life of the child. It makes another parent think that murder is an option.

My son is hard to deal with. MS is hard to deal with. My life could be one huge sob story. I have battled with depression, I know what it is to feel hopeless. Still, there is always a way. Maybe it means that you can't care for the kid anymore, so you call CPS or the police or whoever on yourself. That's better than taking the child's life.

I keep pointing out that one case because it has been pointed out to me several times because of the autism and MS connection.  I have MS and a kid with autism, why haven't I cracked yet? Is that what you are asking me when you point this out? The truth is that I have cracked. I have on more than one occasion dropped my kids off with someone else because I couldn't handle them right then. I may be Supermom, but I am not invincible. I get to that point and I call someone. It's amazing how fast people will move heaven and earth when they hear the tone in my voice that says "get me out of here."
See, nobody is perfect. Nobody can handle everything. Sometimes God gives you stuff that you can't handle. It's okay. He can handle it. That's my way out. I'm sad for those who reject that way. I'm sad for the people who think that money will fix all the problems. Believe me, I could win the 300 and whatever millions that the big lotto is up to and still have problems. Probably more than I have now. MS and autism don't go away just because you throw money at them.

Being a mother of a child with autism is hard. I have days when I dread picking up Micah from school. There are a million decisions to be made and you make the wrong ones all the time. You fight for things that you think your kid needs, but once you finally get them they don't always work. If they finally talk they often only want to talk about one subject for hours on end. Every day homework is a battle. Sending them to school is scary because you know that your kid is difficult and you don't know how the teacher/aid/lunch lady/other kids will respond to him and possibly set off the dreaded meltdown. Going anywhere is difficult for you on a scale few other parents understand because you have to take care of dietary needs, toiletry needs far past the time "normal" kids are through with that, sensory needs, scheduling needs, a distraction for when something goes wrong, and a back up plan for exiting when all hell breaks loose, but you need to block every exit so that you don't have an escapee. The bigger you kid gets the harder most of these things are to deal with. Also the bigger they are the more judgment you get from others when you kid doesn't "behave."

Here's the thing: that's only part of the story. I am the kid with a 13 year old who is an expert on gluten and casien and can lecture for hours on the diet that helps him so much. Those little milestones that other parents had in concentrated form over and over in the first few years are spread out for me so I can truly enjoy each one. My son has a special relationship with me, his mom, at 13 and he talks to me more than anyone else in the world. How many moms of 13 year olds wish their kids would talk to them more? I have a boy who inspires me because of his hard work at every sentence that comes out of his mouth. He may not work hard on his homework, but he's tired from telling me about his day. If you had to work as hard as he does to form a sentence, would you waste your time on small talk? I watch my boy blow the minds of people who underestimate him constantly.

I could go on and on about both sides of this. Life is hard. You can still find joy.

I know that this is long, but I have to share because so much of it applies to this.
James 1:2-17

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds,  because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.  Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.  If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God,who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.  That person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. Such a person is double-minded and unstable in all they do.

 Believers in humble circumstances ought to take pride in their high position. But the rich should take pride in their humiliation—since they will pass away like a wild flower.  For the sun rises with scorching heat and withers the plant; its blossom falls and its beauty is destroyed.In the same way, the rich will fade away even while they go about their business.

Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.

 When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin;and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.

 Don’t be deceived, my dear brothers and sisters.  Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. 

November already?

I totally forgot that it is November. I'm so behind in everything. This crazy transition to teenager for my boy including all of the school challenges that are coming with it, changing to working at least some of the time, my grandma and all her issues, Tony starting school, and all of the kid activities are turning me into a real flake. My calendar is so full that I can't keep up. Now the Holidays are coming and I am not ready.

Let me back up a bit.

Micah is having a hard time with becoming a teenager.  I know, who doesn't?  Still, do you remember Junior High? Think about doing it with the social abilities of a 4 year old. I know sometimes it felt like you were limited in your social skills, and believe me, I recognize that every 13 year old is, but not on this scale. It was frustrating dealing with hormones and all the crap that comes with it, but for my boy it is just as frustrating as it was before he could talk.  If you have heard me speak of those dark days, you know that it is getting bad if I can compare it to that.

I have already had to fight the school some because of the problems that he has been having.  They already tried to suspend him once, but their mistakes caused me to push back and he didn't get sent home. IEPs are killing me.  I have to have a solution that doesn't seem to exist.
At this point I am beginning to wonder if all of my hard work with him through the years is going to prove worthless. All the headaches and stress and he may still end up in jail because he can't control himself.

I'm tired of fighting a losing battle.

In the middle of all this I have started the process to become a substitute teacher for the kid's school district. At this point it's just a matter of paperwork being finished on their end. My biggest fear in all of this is that I will succeed and love it but not be able to continue because I will need to be more available for Micah.

My next issue is my grandma. Honestly, my mom is shouldering most of that, but I still have to help her out. My grandma is currently in an assisted living facility for rehab after breaking her leg and having a mild heart attack. This whole incident has caused her to need to move from her current apartment which is difficult for her to get around in to a more appropriate apartment for her needs. I found a place for her, but with her still being in the rehab facility, she hasn't been able to take care of paperwork and all that is necessary for that. Then once that is taken care of, we will be moving her and all her stuff...that will be an adventure.

Tony starting school just means that I have to take on more things alone for a while. He's doing online classes, so he's still there, but he needs time to focus, so there are times when I will just have to handle stuff alone.

Kid activities may be the hard part as far as consuming my time. Cheer, choir, and softball are the current contenders for time, but it will soon be cheer, softball, baseball, and a play, along with any of the runs that Micah wants to do and anything else that the kids may come up with. Band isn't taking up my time yet, but concerts are coming soon, I'm sure.

Let's throw in Thanksgiving and Christmas, because I will have loads of time. I don't even know what these holidays are going to look like yet because I have been distracted. We just recently found out that my grandma will still be in rehab for Thanksgiving, so I will not have her and likely not my mom either to help/worry about. I usually cook with my mom because it's easier to do that with Micah's diet, but that probably won't be an option this year.

Last Christmas I had a horrible time because of school and stuff, so I just gave most people gift cards and slid through the season pretty depressed. We did have a beautiful day and week after alone with just Tony and the kids and I, but everything else felt completely forced. I am beginning to wonder if we shouldn't just hide like that for these holidays so we can regroup a bit. Still, Tony has school, so it won't be the same.

I really need to stop complaining. I'm worn out, but it's pretty easy to find things to be thankful for in all of this. I know that there are people around me who love me, and I just have to call and they will be there to rescue me. It's hard to be the one who always has to be rescued, but it's nice to still have those people who are willing to help even though I have called them way too often.

It's times like this that I wish that the stupid saying of "God won't give you more than you can handle" was true. The problem is that I am living proof that He does. He constantly gives me things that I can't handle so that I will rely on Him. Believe me, I would have given up long ago if He wasn't trustworthy enough to hand it all over to Him. I can't do any of this stuff, really. To juggle it all alone would be stupid. He is far better at handling this stuff than I am.

Teenagers and Autism Stuff

It's hard to be a parent of a teenager with autism.

That's an understatement.

This morning I took my son to his first period class almost 2 months into his 8th grade experience by literally carrying him on my shoulder. I put his backpack on my back and he kicked and screamed the entire way to class. All of this was because we were out of bananas and I wouldn't take him to go get one instead of taking him to school.

That's what my life is like lately. If I don't keep him to his routine, all hell breaks loose. I know his teacher didn't appreciate the fact that I didn't give her a calm, collected boy this morning. I still had to stand my ground and make him go to school even if he didn't have the banana. Why? Life isn't about the missing banana. Is he hungry? No. He had both (yes, first and second) breakfasts. I packed his elevensies. He wasn't starving. I refuse to feel like a failure as a mother because my son didn't get a stupid banana in the morning.

My son's morning routine is pretty simple. He wakes up as my girls are headed out the door. He has his first breakfast, which can vary greatly depending on what we have in the house, colors in his room for a few minutes, and then gets his second breakfast when his first alarm goes off. This breakfast is usually toast or a waffle as it is one of those "on the run" type things because the next alarm will be going off again in 5 minutes. At that alarm he changes clothes and brushes his teeth and washes his face. The next alarm goes off and he puts on deodorant and shoes (no, I have never been able to get him to put on his deodorant before putting on his shirt, but he wears it, so I won't complain). The next alarm he is putting together anything that he missed along the way or putting stuff in his backpack for the day, all to get in the car before the last alarm. He knows that if he does not get into the car before the last alarm, I will not stop at 7-11.

The drive to school is simple. We stop at 7-11 if he is on time and he purchases a juice and a banana. They have come to know Micah at the 7-11 on our route, so sometimes I just send him in with cash, and other times I walk in with him.

This morning Micah was having a rough time getting with the program and didn't get out the door before the last alarm. I just don't have the time to stop if he is late, so generally I get him out the door when he misses his last alarm by grabbing him a juice and a banana on the way out the door. It doesn't always work for him, but he will generally calm down quickly if I do this. Today I had no bananas.

The last time this happened, security had to come drag my boy to class. The big problem was that that day, the security guard told him that if he went with him, he would take him to 7-11. NEVER LIE TO MY SON! Today the security guards can come all they want, but Micah won't have it. They cannot be trusted in his eyes. Thanks newbie. You've now ruined this for everyone.

So, this morning I took my almost 13 year old boy over my shoulder, with his backpack on my back, and carried him to class. Sure he had to be calmed down and he wasn't going to have a good day after that, but giving in this time would make every time after that harder. How do I know this? I've done it for almost 13 years. I know my kid. He has to know that going to school isn't optional. The only way that I can show him that is to make sure that he is there every day. He has to know that being late for school because you don't have a banana isn't an option. Today I had to show him that by carrying him to class.

Am I unreasonable? Probably. I know that there are many people out there who would criticize my actions today. Oh, well. I didn't see another option that had consequences that I was willing to live with.

As I walked away I saw Micah and his aid come out of class and do some of his deep breathing techniques. He wasn't mad at her, he was mad at me. She at least isn't dumb enough to tell him that she will take him to 7-11. She may have promised him a banana, but honestly, I'm okay with that. If that fixes the problem, okay. Micah still has to comply with the rules every time or they are useless.

It's harder to deal with these meltdowns the older and bigger he gets. I know that picking him up and throwing him over my shoulder isn't always going to be an option, I've been told that since he was 4. Still, there are days like today when it's just necessary. I'm just thankful that I know how to prevent these things so that they don't happen every day like they used to. His morning routine fixed this. Routines help him make sense of the world. When things are the same, he is a much calmer guy. Still, life doesn't always stick to the routine.

Saturday I go to take a test so that I can become a substitute teacher. I'm scared. Not because of the test, I'm not worried about that in the least. It's the substitute thing. If I do this, the routine has to change. Micah will have to get up earlier in the morning. We will have to figure out a new routine that may possibly include a bus. This is unbelievably scary.

Still, I need this. I need the ability to make some money to pay for the education that I just finished. I need to get out and do something other than fight the battles with and for my kids. I love my kids and I love being at home for them. Being a full time mom is just hard. I need something a little easier. Yes, easier. I need easy once in a while. It's scary to let go, but I just have to.

Well, I'll stop now. I gotta get to the store and buy some more bananas.

Ten Years

Date: April 4, 2004

With my boy on my hip, I took a big breath and opened the door. Inside were the dark tan waiting room chairs, brown wood paneled walls, a basket of toys in the corner, and a counter with a paper on it to sign in. I walked to the counter, wrote my boy's name on the sheet, and sat down by the toys.

I put my boy on the floor facing the toys. At two and a half, that should have been what would entertain him while we waited to hear his name called in my opinion at the time. Instead he laid his head down and began looking at the labels on the bottom of the chairs.

I sat watching him, knowing we were a little early for our appointment. I thought of the discussions that I had had recently with several trusted friends. I had known that something was different about my boy for a while, and at least someone agreed with me because we had speech therapists at our house twice a week. One of my friends pointed out some characteristics that made her think of the "a" word. I had been told that it probably wasn't that a couple of times by his pediatrician and one of the speech therapists working with him. Other friends told me that boys are just slower to speak than girls, a fact proven true in my house, since my 8 month old girl was picking up quite a bit from her brother's therapy and was speaking far more than he was...and far more than any other 8 month old I had ever encountered. These friends told me that there wasn't anything wrong and I should just wait for him to grow out of this phase.

Another boy came in the room, right around my boy's age and he walked up to the toys and began to play. The other mom was talking with the receptionist, apparently disagreeing about the outcome of her son's lack of diagnosis.  I wanted to scream at her. Her son was fine! He was playing and talking to the toys. He turned to me and looked at me straight in the eye and said "catch?" I would kill for that kind of interaction with my son!

Thankfully, before I said or did something in my anger, I heard my boy's na

me being called. My son didn't look away from the labels he was so facinated with, so I picked him up and took him to the lady who called his name.

We were taken to another room with more toys and waited to be seen. Apparently someone had to calm down the angry mom in the waiting room. My boy walked up to the toy cars, took them out one by one, and lined them up in a straight line like a parking lot. I talked to him the entire time as the speech therapists had told me to. Having recently given up on eye contact, I just described what he was doing and that it looked like a parking lot to me.

 

When he had taken out all the cars, he laid down on his back and stared at the ceiling, flapping his hand in front of his face.

This was the scene where the psycologist walked in. She smiled at me and introduced herself. She explained what she was going to do and how and what each of the tests were as if I had any idea about what any of it meant. Over the course of the next several years, these words would become another language that I would learn, but at this point it could have been Chinese and I wouldn't have known the difference. 

The rest of that visit is a blur to me. She observed, asked a ton of questions,  tried to speak with my boy, and in the end walked away to input some things into a computer. It took several minutes,  but she cam back with a paper that said "diagnosis: autism." It said a bunch of other things that I would later learn and know meant that he was fairly severe, but I didn't understand nor care about all that yet.

 

I had a weird feeling of relief then, which later I would feel guilty about. Still, for me this was validation.  I was not crazy, something was different about my kid. Everyone who told me that I was just paranoid was wrong and I had proof. I smiled at the psychologist and walked out of the room with my head held high. I wasn't crazy.

I went home, picked up my baby girl with far more confidence than I had had her entire life. I fed her knowing that I wasn't a failure as a parent.

When Tony read the paper,  his reaction was so very different. He cried. I was in a whole different place, but I still understood. He was thinking that his son would not grow up playing baseball and video games with him. He didn't know if he would ever have a real conversation with his son. There was so much grief and uncertainty in him. It was the death of a dream for his boy.

We know now that my boy plays baseball on an awesome challenger team and has for many years, but back then it wasn't something that we could have known. We know now that my boy is crazy about graphic novels and video games, draws out what he is thinking so you can get a glimpse if you try, and likes to write poetry best because it is richer to him than normal prose.

We know that he loves winning, and running is just one of those amazing things that he is able to do for long periods of time tirelessly, so he loves a good 5k (and would love to do a marathon, but I'm not ready for that yet).

 We know now that we can converse with him, but he really only feels it necessary to speak to people if he is arguing or wants something. He is stubborn and opinionated, but I don’t think that has anything to do with the "a" word. It's a family trait and comes by it honestly.

 We know now that he enjoys vlogging, but he doesn't want to do it every day as originally planned.  He just doesn't want to talk that much, and vlogging takes a lot of unnecessary speech.

We also know now that somewhere in the middle of everything that we taught him he fell in love with Jesus and has a real relationship with Him. This goes beyond our understanding, but we are limited like that. 

Autism has played a role in our lives, but my son does not feel that the word defines him anymore.  If you ask him, he will tell you, "I don’t have autism, I have awesomeism." He told me once that autism is what people can't do. Awesomeism is all the things that he can do better than people who, in his opinion talk too much. He once quoted to me from James (a book of the Bible he dearly loves) "Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry." God is still working on him for the third part, but he has the first two down.

Worn

I'm tired.  I'm worn out. I desperately need a break.

I sit here in the waiting room at speech therapy. I took my girls to my grandmother's so they could hang out with her. I just needed quiet.

Lately things with Micah have been one fight after another.  We can't get through a day without a meltdown. I know what is happening,  I see all the visible signs: hair growth in all those boy places, pimples,  and the horrible boy smell.

Now, I love teenagers.  They are beginning a difficult part of their lives and I just like being there to share it with them. That is why I work with them at church.

The problem is when you mix puberty with autism and ODD, you get a giant mess.  You think your life was difficult in middle school, imagine Micah's.  I totally sympathize with where he is coming from and it is just hard.

Still, it's hard to be his parent right now, too.

Monday evening he melted down so badly that there was an accident and he ended up under the wheel of a car for a moment. Talk about a total nightmare. We took him to the ER and I waited for news. After several hours they sent him home  saying he had only abrasions.

Wow. Amazing, right? God protected my boy.

Yesterday his elbow began to swell. This morning I had the follow up appointment. They missed something,  but nobody can figure out what. There's something wrong.

He now has a splint and has to see another doctor.

I told the doctor today that a splint would do no good, he won't keep it on, but they didn't want to cast him because of the swelling.  He has taken it off twice this afternoon. I am now the splint police.

Right after the doctor appointment that took all morning, we went to lunch at Wendy's. Micah loves it there. I went to order and sent the kids to a table like I normally do...but it didn't go well. When I came back Micah had his splinted arm around Zoe's neck and I had to rescue her.

Okay, no more alone time, even for a minute with his sisters.

I tried to calm him down while still following through with consequences,  but that wasn't happening at Wendy's. I finally ended up getting Becca to ask them for tops and things so I could get the whole thing to go while I held him down so he didn't hurt anyone else. One lady came up to me and said, "I applaud you, you are doing the right thing and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."  That was nice amidst the stares and mean looks from everyone else there.

I got Micah in the car by some miracle and he stayed and buckled in while screaming.  I think he has learned his lesson, at least for now, about car safety.

I took him home, put the girls in another room, and focused on calming Micah down. After about half an hour, he was finally calm enough to eat.

I let the girls out of their room and Zoe apologized for starting the fight with Micah. Apparently she wanted the same seat as he did. She said the seat was not worth all that.  I just felt bad for her. Nobody should have to have such extreme consequences for something like that.

The next thing I did was call my grandma to let the girls hang out with her instead of staying with us. They needed a break, too.

Next we are going to have dinner with a friend and then Tony is picking him up so I can go to class.

Ar this point I just don't understand why my MS isn't kicking in, except for the prayer that I know is happening for me right now.  The Lord is sustaining me.  It's good because I can't do this. I don't have the strength on my own for anything.  I just want to crawl in a hole for a while,  but I am fighting that urge so hard.

Frustrated

It's the last few classes before graduation. I am working really hard. I'm in the Capstone class, which is supposed to be the basic overview of everything that I learned in the program at CBU.  I have to analyze everything and they have to judge to see if I achieved my goals and the school's goals for the program. For the first week is asking all the questions that I hate.  I'm asking for a degree in Liberal Studies.  This equals teacher in the program.  I'm not looking to be a teacher. 

This provides a problem for every assignment this week. Well, not every one.  The one where I had to share my transcripts with my instructor didn't require an explanation.  Still, I'm expected to write a resume for the job that I want. 

Which job do I want? 

I've been pondering going into ABA, but the more that I think about it, the less I love it. It's a growing field, I can get a well paying job, and it makes sense from the perspective of someone who is just looking at my personality and the amount of money that I need to make. 

I just don't know if it's really for me.

How have I gone through all this work and still not know what's next?  I need someone to just tell me what I should do so I can do it.

I'm a good mom. I know that job. No, I don't know everything, but I know what I need to and I know how to learn more. I don't need a degree to do that, though.  I also already do it.  No resume needed.

The thing that gets me most excited is thinking about ministering to other parents who are struggling.  Not really in the marriage and family therapist way, but in the teaching way.  I think teaching a parenting class would be interesting, but in more of a mentor type capacity.

Recently I was asked for help from a friend of a friend to help the teachers in their church's children's church to work with a boy in the class with autism. It was a thrilling meeting.  Not because they really needed me, honestly, after meeting everyone there I realized that they had everything that they needed to help this boy out in the people in the room.  I was just able to calm some people down and give others support who had the skills and understanding that were necessary for integrating the child. I loved it. I went home thinking, "if I could do that for a living, I would love it."

Another thing that was related more closely to teaching that appealed to me was a job that I observed in a private school. I know that I did not observe all of it, but I did do an observation in a class that was special needs.  Now, it wasn't the first special needs class that I had observed in.  Actually, I observed special ed classes in a couple of other schools for my other classes. This one was different.  The class was so personal.  The teacher was a friend of mine, and I knew that she was a great mentor, but it was like she was personally involved in each of the student's lives. She was.  She knew all of their parents, knew what was happening with them in everything that they did, and she asked them about it.  This was more than a class, and she was more than a teacher.  She also coordinated the IEPs and works as a counselor for the students and a bunch of other things.  She has many hats, is extremely busy, and I loved watching her.  I thought, "if I could do that, I could teach."

One more thing that gets me kind of excited is early intervention.  I know as a mom of a kid with autism how important it is.  The idea of doing everything that I can to set that child up for success in life would be thrilling.  I'm not incredibly stuck on that one, though.  I like the idea, but I'm more of the one who would work with parents to help them set up their child for success. I'm such an advocate for helping parents learn to believe in their child and be the things that their child needs to succeed.

The other thing that has been in my mind since Tony was leaving his job as Children's Pastor was the idea of going into ministry with him. That one is the most scary because we have been burned so much in the past.  Still, when I started a job search the churches looking for someone to work with the family ministries made me think...and get excited.  I just don't know. I hate relying on a church again.  Relying on God is easy(ish), relying on a church is hard.

So.  All that being said, I don't know what to put down as my objective on my resume.  I don't have a dream job. I don't know what to do. I feel like if I choose I won't do what I need to be doing.  I just want God to shine a big spotlight on my "dream job" and have the angels start singing "ahh!" so I know what it is that I should do.

Growing Up

One of the hardest things about hanging out with family and old friends is that they have known you for a long time.  That means that they have seen you at your worst.  Childhood screw ups are never forgotten.  I am so glad I didn't have to live through puberty in an age where these things are posted somewhere on the internet, but I still have brothers who remember me when...I don't really want to talk about that. They still do, but hey, they are my brothers so I deal with it. 

Am I saying I only want to display what is perfect?  No, I mean, why would I blog my struggles if I only wanted everyone to think that I'm perfect? 

Here's the thing that I would like to assume about everyone who has known me for a really long time: you have grown since then.  Why?  Because guess what? I have grown. I'm not the same as the kid who bit her brothers growing up.  I'm not he same kid who put on an innocent look and lied to get her brothers in trouble.  I'm not even the same as the angry, stuck up girl I was in high school.  I've grown.  The Holy Spirit had a lot of work to do with me, for sure, but He's really good at His job.

Okay, I've put a lot of this on my brothers, but really, I'm reminded of this topic because of my grandmother.  She's 90 years old and she can't remember that I'm in my 30's, not 13.  I don't blame her.  Life seems to go by in the blink of an eye when it comes to my kids.  It gets real when my daughter starts borrowing my shoes.

The thing that we all need to remember as we watch others grow up and grow old is that they can actually learn from the things that they did that were wrong.  For my kids, if I look, I can see where the Holy Spirit is working in them.  I assume that they are growing and I have to allow them to do so.  Sure, as a mom, I remind them of what the Bible says as I am working with them on their character, but I can't assume that they are still going to be whining when they are 30.  I have to assume that eventually they will either learn by my teaching, the Holy Spirit's guidance, or at the very least through experience. 

I guess I'm just saying, as a person with a bit of a pet peeve, please allow room for growth in old friends and family.  You never know, they may be awesome people that you want to hang out with now.

Run for Fun?

I know I'm overweight.  It's no secret.  I'm fat.  I'm partially okay with that.

Basically that means that I'm okay with who I am and my image of myself isn't bad.  I'm a strong, beautiful woman.  My problem is that my weight is affecting my health. 

Recently Micah ran a race where he had to have a parent go with him.  He had a blast.  It was supposed to be me going through the race, but since I was unprepared due to a miscommunication and people forgetting stuff, Tony ran with him instead.  Tony couldn't really keep up. 

So here is me, the lady with health issues who needs to shed some pounds (I've gained 20 lbs. over the last 6 months), and my husband, who wants to be in better shape so he can keep up and have an easier time as an umpire, and my kids who fell in love with running and doing the obstacle course (which is what the race that Micah ran was).

So, we decided to start running together. 

Okay, this was kind of a difficult start for me because we had the flu raging through our house at the time, but we started anyway.  Tony got an app on his phone for a couch to 5k training, and we started.  I was exhausted at the end, and I didn't even do the whole thing (I walked instead of ran a few of the sets). The girls have been doing workouts in the mornings every day for a while, and they are doing well with that, so they didn't have as hard of a time, but the flu still took a toll, so they didn't always keep up either.

I've decided that as soon as I have the money, I'm signing us up for a 5k color run that is coming up in March.  Paying the money for it will hopefully help me to get as motivated as Tony is to do this thing.  I need to, the kids want to, and Tony is pretty determined to be in shape.  We'll see what happens.  If nothing else, I'll walk the 5k, but I want to be able to run it.

I told the kids that by next June (not the one coming up, but the following one) I want all of us to be able to do a triathlon (well, Tony doesn't like water, so he gets to train to just run).  It means that this summer we will be doing some serious swim training, bike rides as a family will be more common, and we are going to do the family walks/runs to gain some more stamina.  We want to be one of THOSE families.  The ones that can get things done without wiping ourselves out.  It's going to be a long road, but we will get there. 

Christmas Trip

We are on our way back from our week-long, not-so-planned, awesome trip to Arizona that started Christmas day.

Maybe I should explain a bit more about how this thing came about before I go into the details.

I was feeling horrible.  For the first time in my college career,  I failed a class. I knew it was coming,  but I couldn't do anything about it.  There was literally nothing that could fix it. This was happening in the midst of a bunch of other things that kept keeping me from focusing and being able to do what I needed to to finish the class. Anyway, I was feeling down and Christmas was coming and I couldn't wrap my brain around it. My house was a disaster, nothing was decorated,  I had nothing for anyone.  I didn't have time for my class, and Christmas wasn't on my list of things to prepare for. I just wanted to get away from everything. I wanted to take my family and just run.

So, enter my mom's timeshare thing. She has this timeshare that has different locations and she has to just use her points to go and stay wherever has an opening.  I asked her if I could use her points to go somewhere and she was okay with it (she always has too many and gets desperate to book something before they expire). I started looking for anything within driving distance that we could escape to on or around Christmas.  I found one in Arizona.  It was the middle of nowhere,  but in the mood that I was in, that sounded perfect.  Later I found out that it meant that it was 30 miles to the nearest grocery store,  and that wasn't as good, but it appealed to me at the time of booking.

Tony was good with it. He's usually up for my crazy ideas, and knew I needed something to feel better. 

We left Christmas day. We stopped by my grandmother's apartment and saw my mom and grandma,  they loaded us up with breakfast, snacks, and crayons and coloring books, then we were on our way.

The best thing was that I got excited planning the trip. I had this idea to give the kids little gifts every hour that they could enjoy. I set a timer for 1 hour, numbered the gifts, and put them in a basket where they could search for the right one to open when the timer went off. It was the best idea for traveling on Christmas. It wasn't an original idea or anything,  my sister-in-law did something like that with her kids while we were traveling last year up to Oregon.  I adapted it to fit my kids and it worked out well.

We got to the resort and vacation really began.

There are so many things that I am thankful for over this trip. Here are a few in no particular order.

1. I got out of my funk.  I am determined to do what I need to so I can graduate this Spring.

2. Tony was amazing.  He is so good about rolling with anything.  No plans? No problem!  We planned as we went and told the kids when we figured out what we were doing. 

3. Tony and I got back to our tag team Micah parenting that has been out of whack lately.  Probably my fault,  but it's better now, so I am just going to be thankful.

4. We took the kids to 2 National Parks. That was cool about being in the middle of nowhere,  everywhere was a long drive,  so going a bit further to see really cool stuff wasn't a big deal.

5. The fact that my kids are impressed by rocks, animals, museums,  random facts, and historical stuff.  It's cool to have my kids impress the park rangers with their intelligent questions.  The Junior Ranger thing was one of their favorite parts of the trip. 

6. The little church in Overgaard, Az that made me feel at home in the middle of nowhere the Sunday morning we went. I wouldn't want to live there, but it was good to have the "family" feel even though we didn't know anyone.

7. The random couple my kids decided to talk to on the shuttle bus at the Grand Canyon.  They were really nice to my kids and when we kept running into them, my kids remembered them and they always said "hi" and asked the kids about their adventures that they were having.  I don't know your names, random couple, but thanks.

8. Gas prices in Arizona.  Paying a dollar less a gallon after passing the border was so nice.

9. The great staff at the Grand Canyon Inn where we stayed our last day because we just couldn't bear to go home after only a few hours of the Grand Canyon.  When Zoe left her souvenir in the room and we realized it far later, they let Tony go back in the afternoon,  several hours after we checked out to see if it was still there, and then checked with the housekeeper to see if she saw it. We never found it, but they were extremely accommodating and helpful.  That made up for the fact that their "free wi-fi" was horrible.

10. The park ranger that went over Micah's work with him as he was earning his Junior Ranger badge. She didn't flinch when she saw his writing, treated him like the 12 year old that he is when he was showing off his autism flag, and just respected him as an intelligent person. He recognized her attitude and responded to her as well as he could being so excited.  That could have gone very differently if she had been any other way.

11. The native couple we encountered on our way up to the Grand Canyon who saw all our kids and kept piling up gifts upon us from their little shop. They were such lovely people.  They spoke with all of my kids and were so sweet to us.

12. The cool trails that were not far from us in Overgaard.  There my kids looked for wildlife and saw quite a bit of it. Elk, squirrels, wild horses (!), deer, several birds, and whatever else I can't think of right now. It was cool to see their eyes light up. When they weren't seeing wildlife,  they learned quite a bit about pictographs and native lifestyles from long ago from the info in the tour guides and signs.

There's so much more, but we are almost home, so I should stop. Pictures and stuff to come later.