My All Star

As any one with a child on the spectrum knows, there are good days.  There are bad days.  There are bad days.  And then there are great days.  This baseball season has had a little bit of all of those days. 

This was David's second season playing baseball.   Last year was a very big learning year for him, but this year he really developed into a good player.  The season was rough, however.  

The year started with him playing second base.  One day he was complaining about his leg.  He thought maybe he hurt it on the trampoline.  Rest, ice, more rest, and the next day the pain is still there.  Several tests, several doctor's appointments, and a huge scare later we found out that yes, there is a tumor.  No, it is not cancer.  He also has Osgood Schlatter's Disease, which is the pain in his leg.  He had to miss several games and practices.  He was moved to the outfield while he was in physical therapy.

Just as we were getting things under control, we find out that David's seizures are not under control.  Medication needs adjusted, and that can be rough.  Most days are fine.  Until a seizure in the outfield. 

Good days.  Bad days.  Sometimes both.

Autism. Sensory issues.  Tumor. Osgood Schlatter's. Seizures. Medication Adjustment.  

Perseverance.  Determination. Passion. 

With incredible coaches, a team that works together, and team parents that cheer him on, David had an incredible season.  He was moved back to second base.  He had a catch that we will all remember for ever.  It was amazing.  Incredible.  A beautiful play in a close game.  That catch put the game into extra innings.  Base hits in every game.  Great plays in the infield and outfield.  He made friends.  He improved his game.  He developed character.  

Every day he overcomes.  The good days.  The bad days.  Every day my heart swells with pride.  So many challenges.  So much determination.  

The baseball season ended.  He was selected to play in the All Star game.  I cried.  He just nodded and asked when that would be.  

The last game in the playoffs was last night.  His team placed third.  The All Star game is next week.  This season will come to a close, like so many seasons in our lives.  It was made up of good days.  Bad days.  Great days.  Really bad days.  There were moments in those days that took my breath away.  Moments that filled my heart with pride. Moments that will last forever but are over too quickly.  I hold all of these moments in my heart.  The good and the bad.  

It's Been a While

For a very long time writing this blog was a life line for me.  Through homeschooling, small children, diagnoses, job changes, loss, and a growing family, this blog connected me to the outside world in a way that nothing else could.
Then, slowly, and a little bit at a time, those small children became big kids.  Then teens.  The amount of sharing I was doing seemed to possibly invade their privacy a little. Or, at times, a lot.
And then busyness of life changed.  New jobs.  New home.  New struggles.
It was hard to get back into blogging because I was not sure how much to share.  How to share. What to share.
And my journey took me far.  I no longer needed a blog to connect me to life outside of our family.  I now no longer needed a way to process and share the events of our days.
At one time I wrote from a place of desperation.  Of loneliness.  Of feeling lost.  It may not have seemed like it in my writing, but that was why I was writing.
Some many things have changed in so many ways.  And so many things that remained the same.
Now, I am realizing that as much as I needed to write before, that need is still there.  It just comes from a different source.
So, I will pick up writing.  My focus is still the journey of our family.  I never set out to write a homeschooling blog, but we home school.  I never set out to write a blog about autism, but we have two precious children on the spectrum.  I never set out to write about raising children because I have no answers there, but that is our life right now.  I never set out to write about marriage, but have been married for about half my life.  I never set out to write about specific struggles, but we face them daily.
I am setting out to share what life is like for us.  Our struggles.  Our triumphs.  Our tears.  Our joy.

My name is Jennifer.  I am Christian.  A wife.  A mother of five beautiful children on this earth and one in heaven.  We home school.  We cyber school.  We have children with special needs.  I live with anxiety and depression.  I work at a job I love.
We laugh.  We cry.  We love.  We live.
Welcome.

If I could time travel

Every year on each of my children's birthdays I look through the baby book or scrapbook.  Or pile of pictures that are going to become a scrapbook.  Or pictures that someday I am going to actually print so I can pile them up and someday scrapbook them.  And I am struck by how tiny they are.  How much they have grown.

However, this year I was struck by a different thought while looking at pictures of my now ten year-old.  I looked from his face, probably for the first time, to the face of the one holding him.  The ten year-ago version of me.  I noticed how young I looked.  I turned back more pages.  Yep.  Even younger.  More pages, same story.  The whole way back to the first picture of a new, glowing, excited, exhausted mommy.  And this time, instead of writing my sweet baby a letter for their birthday, I wished to reach out to her.

If I could, I would go back and tell her so much.  I would tell her to relax.  To enjoy.  Oh, I know she knows that.  I know that she made the most of everyday.  She played.  Laughed.  Grasped each moment as best and as tightly as she could.  But there was always more.  Fear.  Disappointment in herself.  A struggle to know she was making the right choices.  And there are so many, many choices.   Everyday.  Every child.   Every minute.  Sometimes she will feel like she is drowning in a sea of uncertainty.

Mostly, though, I would tell her that she is going to survive, because I know that she will not always feel like it or believe it.

There will be bumps and bruises.  I know that she is going to drop her brand new baby at just a few days old from the couch in her exhaustion.  She judges herself because she doesn't know how many mothers do that.

She will have to hold down a baby for testing.  And a toddler.  And a preschooler.  And she will cry longer than they will.  And she will remember it forever, even when they forget.

There will come a day that she is tired of being pregnant.  And there will come a day that she wishes that she still was.  And feeling either feeling is fine.  And normal.  And so are the tears.  And one day, they will stop falling as hard. But they will still fall.

She is going to pace for hours overnight.  She is going to pray in quite a few hospital rooms.  She is going to meet more doctors than she can remember.  She is going to stand in a hospital hallway while her heart is rolled away for surgery.  More than once.  And it will bring her to her knees.  Literally.  But she will breathe again.

She is going to hold more than one grubby hand while there are x-rays, stitches, staples, concussions, broken bones and close calls.  And while it makes her queasy, she will not be sick.

There will be psychologists.  Neurologists.  Diagnoses. Autism.  ADHD.  But she will always know that she has the best children in the world.

Her husband will work away.  At times far away.  But he will be her rock.  And she will need him so very much.  And he will be there.  And she may need to tell him why they fall, but he will dry her tears.

She will try to hold herself together through depression.  And she will struggle to use her hand after a stroke.  And she will get very angry when she misspeaks or stutters.  But she will talk again.  And she will use that hand again.

She will homeschool.  And it will be fun.  And exciting.  And scary.  And hard.  And she will want to quit, but she won't.  And it will be rewarding again.  And even fun again.  She is making the correct choice, but she won't always feel like it.

In that moment, in that snap shot of her young life, she is full of innocence.  She does not know what the future holds.  She does not know what is in store.  And that is a good thing.  Because it is overwhelming.  At times it is unbearable.  But it will make her strong.  Stronger than she has ever been.  Sometimes she won't even know it, but it is happening, everyday.  Even this one.

Top Ten Reasons...

that I am the biggest meanie weenie ever.  According to the children in my house.

10.  I will not let Micah walk to Grandma's house.  He is almost two.  It is several blocks away.  She is not home.  I am a jerk.

9.  I do not agree that a long sleeve shirt would make a person feel cooler than a short sleeve shirt.  In the summer.  I know nothing about fashion.  I may be ruining a young life as we speak.

8.  I will not let my children carry around a dying baby bird and try to feed it crunched up worms mixed with spit.  They already started collecting the spit.  And the worms.  And the dying baby bird.

7.  Breakfast is not cookies.  Or ice cream.  Or cake.  And we have no cookies.  Or cake.

6.  I will not let Micah eat a play dough pizza.  Or play dough cookies. Or play dough cake. Or even play dough lumpy thing.

5.  I make the kids read, play, go outside, and get creative before turning on any electronics.  Even in the summer. Even on rainy days. Even when they just charged an iPod.

4.  I do not want a pet snake.  I will not allow my children to have a pet snake.  As a matter of fact, I have placed a hold on any new pets until we have quite a few less pets than we do now.  Be that by rehoming, death, or escape. And even then, probably no snake.  I just don't want to have to feed it like I do with all the other pets my kids (and husband) have.

3.  No one is allowed to have soda for breakfast.  I have no soda in the house.  We have juice.  Water. Milk. Tea. Kool aid.  Hot chocolate.  Those are all gross.  I must not have taste buds.  At all.

2.  I toss broken toys.  All of them.  Even if Dad can do magic, preform surgery, or has enough super glue.  They will break again.  Kids will cry again.  Like a band aid, the quicker the better, just toss it and get it over with.  Especially when it is in five or more pieces, is missing a wheel, and only has one handlebar. And used to be a finger bicycle.

1.  I will not let the size five and six kids wear size two costumes to go jump on the trampoline. Even if it is the only ninja costumes they can find.  No, black pants and black shirts will not work the same.  Even though they would cover more skin because they fit.

And that is all just from today.  Before lunch.  I should have a much larger list by bedtime.

Advice

A few days ago I noticed something on Facebook.  At least three of my friends posted something about their children that was either humorous or as a way of “venting”.  None of those posts were things that should make the children feel bad, or reflect on the parents in any way.  It was just a fact of life of parenting.  I may not even need to mention that each post was about a son.  And something that said son did that was amazing.  Not a good kind of amazing. 

The thing that I noticed was that on each post someone felt the need to either provide parenting advice or tell the poster why the behavior was wrong.  And that is common on the internet.  We assume that anyone and everyone is just waiting for us to spout out our advice as if it were the answer that they have been waiting for so long to hear.  We assume that if we did not post our thoughts about reducing caffeine, or sugar, or red dye this poor child is destined to suffer.  Or feel the need to give advice on how to discipline an unruly child.  That we have never met.  In a situation we have only heard two sentences about. 

I am not saying that any of these are necessarily bad suggestions. Or that I have never done this.  Because I am sure that I totally must have.  And I am glad that the internet was not all that old when I knew everything.  You know, before having children.  Because I would have looked like a jerk back then on some of the posts that people exactly like me make today. 

 I just think that dispensing this kind of advice over the internet shows that we do not understand the intent of the person sometimes.  There are places online I go to find out more about parenting.  There are places I go to ask advice on specific situations.  I have people in real life to talk to, and several online friends from around the world that can help me out when I need it.

Other times I am not looking for advice.  These times I am just looking for a parent-to-parent connection.  And maybe some hope.  Or a parent that has lived through raising children and will throw back their head and life when I say things that my children have done.  So I feel less alone.  Less insane. 

Sometimes, Internet, all I want are comfort words.  No actual answers.  I want to hear things like:

“Yes, cat whiskers grow back.”

“No, that missing eyebrow is hardly noticeable.”

“No one has ever died from eating a glow stick.”

“Poison control knows my child too.”

“Yes, I have laughed at my child throwing a fit.  No regrets.”

“My child has also done that.  And lived.”

And that, Internet, is why I post on Facebook about the time my son ate three Adrenaline Rush packets which caused him to bounce around our house like a ping pong ball and then crash for hours.  Not to hear that I am negligent by hiding them on the top shelf of the pantry behind other boxes without ever thinking he could climb up there and get them while I was in the bathroom.  Or how harmful it is for my child to jump onto a trampoline from the garage roof.  Or how I should have assumed that he would stick dice, or an Orbee, or a napkin, or a piece of cheese, or Kool Aid powder up his nose.   Because I know all that.  And Have learned to never go to the bathroom.  Now.  I just want to know that I am not alone.  And that he will survive to adulthood.  And that I will too.  And that sometimes, it is completely alright to laugh at your child. 

Today was a win.

Today was one of those days that a homeschool mom wishes for.  No, there was no house cleaning fairy that slipped in and magically turned the house into a spotless wonder.  The food did not magically jump into the crock pot.  The kids did not refrain from fighting all day.  Or even most of it.  They did not remember to clean up after themselves.  Actually, school work is still on the table.  There are Legos on the floor. Squinkies and Zinkies are too.  And some cracker crumbs.  I did not wash the supper dishes.  There was an argument before breakfast.  None of those seemingly magical things occurred here today, but what did occur was just as awesome. 

Two huge awesome things, actually.  On the same day.  Isaac has been struggling to read for years.  We tried a traditional approach.  We tried creative approaches.  We wrote words in sand or shaving cream.  We played word games.  We fished for words from our word wall.  We used flash cards, rewards, incentives, whatever we could.  We tried it all.  Twice.  Nothing made it click.  Until today.  He picked up his reader and read a story.  No crying, no hesitation, no sounding out words even.  It clicked.  He did it.  There were even new words.  Then he turned the page and did it again.  Oh, I cannot say there were no tears, because I could not help myself.  He finished flawlessly reading his story, turned those big brown eyes to me and I could see his pride.  Satisfaction of a job well done.  The labor was difficult, but the instant those big, brown, joyous eyes locked onto my tear-filled ones was worth every second. 

I have no idea why it was today.  There was nothing special.  Nothing different.  Nothing new.  We did the same thing for the thousandth time.  It just clicked, and like a rusty flood gate opening for the first time the result was a deluge. It was one of those moments that takes my breath away, where the ah-ha look in their eyes overshadows any difficulties getting there.  But the day was not over yet.  I got another of those moments!

Faith has had difficulties at school for, well, always.  We have succeeded with some, and not quite yet with others.  Something we have been working on is correctly forming letters and numbers.  She has quite a high rate of backwards or malformed letters and numbers.  If she is directly copying something it looks great.  Left to form them on her own and it is hard to read at best.  One thing that we noticed, actually that Angel noticed, is that she writes numbers correctly in the units and hundreds place consistently, but the tens place is always backwards.  Even in number with the same digits.  She would add things like 32 + 23 and have a backwards 5 and a normal 5.  I have been marking her answers as right but making her practice forming the number correctly.  I have written over the backwards ones in red.  We have used sand, pudding, chalk, finger paint and a variety of other media to practice.  Same results- backwards numbers in the tens place.  Ever single time.  Despite me pointing it out she never noticed it before.  It was like she could not see the backwards numbers.  She would lament that they all looked the same to her.

Today she was practicing before a test.  She wrote the multiplication facts on the dining room mirror for several sets of numbers from memory.  Then she stepped back and looked at the mirror.  She moved closer, nose almost touching the mirror.  She stepped back again.  She turned around and said, "Hey, does anybody notice something wrong here?"  I looked up to check her facts.  They were correct.  She said, "No, I mean all these numbers.  I think they are backwards!"  She erased them and wrote them correctly.  On her test not one number was written backwards.  For the first time ever. 

A second ah-ha moment.  Only a few minutes after the first.  Two of our toughest problems.  In one day.  Years of blood, sweat, and tears came before.  Literally.  With an Aspie who has ADD and another ADHD one there were literal blood, sweat and tears.  For long stretches at a time it would occur daily.  On my part.  On their parts. 

But today, today was a good day.  Today was a win.  We never gave up.  We never quit.  And finally, after so much struggle, there was the fruit of our labor.  And it was sweet.  I know that tomorrow we may be back to struggles, maybe even the same struggles.  That is the way life is.  That is the way homeschooling is.  That is the way life with special needs students is.  But days like today, moments like these, the looks of pride, of wonder, of understanding, they stay with you.  Those are the moments I hide in my heart.  The moments I cherish and ponder.  The moments that I take out on days that are not good.  On the days where we have head banging, scratching and biting oneself.  On the days where the tears are not the good kind. 

Days like today linger.  Days like today allow hope to fester.  They allow us to hold onto the idea of success when it seems so far away.  They are gifts from God, miracles that show us to keep fighting the good fight.  Testaments to hard work, prayer, and God's mercy and grace.  And as I head off to sleep tonight, our success still fresh in my mind and heart, I will rest well.  And that rest is the kind much needed during this battle.  A rest filled with joy, with hope, with anticipation, with the promise of another win on the horizon. 

A Year End Review

Every year I take a look back at all that the year brought and share a few highlights.  Sometimes I focus on just the good, sometimes I focus on the most memorable, and other times I focus on the things that I have pictures of on Facebook.  That is my life in a nutshell.  Sometimes good, sometimes simply memorable, and other times I can't remember it all unless I am reminded.  On Facebook.  This year i will try to do a little of each.

We started the year with a family party that lasted until 6 AM.  For most of us.  Like me, and the big kids.  January also brought snow, and David's third birthday.  We had many days off in the first half of the school year and tried to buckle down and get things done in the second half.  But I had extreme morning sickness often, so it was hard.

February rolled around, and we were still trying to push through school.  We had a a nice visit from Uncle Dave, however I spend some of it in the hospital.  More morning sickness.  But the rest of the time was movies, games, the Science Center, and Chick Fil A. 

March was another long month of morning sickness and school work.  My school work, school work with the kids, and observation hours.  We started up our homeschool co-op classes again, and the CLP play held auditions and began practices.  We did community service, and lots of it!  The days were getting much nicer as we prepared to have our Easter cantata and celebrate Easter.

April brought Easter, Honk Jr., a cantata, Remembering Adam show, and more co-op classes.  April for us is always a time of performing!  Andy had a few shows, too.  My morning sickness was easing up and I was headed into a nice spring and beginning of summer without any problems other than being busy and tired. 

May started with Honk Jr at CLP, the end of co-op, shows for Andy, and yet another behavior specialist for Faith.  We had a huge yard sale and took a trip to the Creation Museum.    We also got to catch a movie at Sarah and Anna's outside.  School was finishing up for the kids and we were scrambling to complete things before the end of the month.

June was a fun month, and quite busy!  Andy had shows, we finished school, and took a few mini vacations.  First up, though, was a fun family day at my dad's power plant learning more about what he does and what the plant does to generate power.  Contrary to my high school belief, he is not a spy.  Or is that what he wants us to think??  We got to see Tony in Cats, we did community service, and we celebrated Father's Day early because Andy and Isaac went to Sandbox Camp. We had our year end evaluations. That was only half the month!  After Sandbox Camp we took the kids camping for 11 days!   We also got to see a Curve game.  During camp my nice trouble free time of pregnancy wrapped up and I was taken by ambulance to the ER with heat exhaustion and the beginnings of my high blood pressure problems.

We came home from camp on July first only to turn around and take the girls back to Pony and Swim Camp.  The boys and I had some fun while hey were gone.  The week after picking the girls up my blood pressure became enough of a problem that I was on bed rest.  for most of the month.  Missing birthday parties, VBS, and summer.  I did sneak to Spirit Fest, and one day of VBS to ward off the unending, mind numbing boredom of bed rest.  And the messy house that I could do nothing about.  We spend some time doing school early to keep the kids occupied, and Angel became the head chef of the Raehl household.  I had an overnight hospital stay, and we did not get to have a birthday party for Faith.

August brought more hospital trips, and I finally had enough bed rest.  We had a birthday party for Faith the first weekend, and on our anniversary we had our sweet Micah!  I was finally feeling better, and got an awesome gift, my sweet son!  The SC Raehl family came to meet Micah, and I began to dig our house out from under about five weeks of bed rest.  We enjoyed the rest of summer with a trip to Lakemont, a family reunion, and began to look towards the new school year. 

September came so fast!  We celebrated the month's birthdays, including a trip to Slinky for Isaac's birthday.  I began the kids school in full force, and my observation hours, too.  We had a few field trips, and Andy had several shows.  the girls began taking baton lessons.  We were still trying to catch up from my bed rest. 

October was just as busy with baton, co-op, classes at IUP, choir in preparation for Christmas, and youth group meetings.  I had more observation hours, and the countdown to my student teaching is on!  Angel had her birthday party and then we went bowling.

November rolled around with more of the same activities, plus Thanksgiving!  And of course, Black Friday!  Although my crew was thinned a bit this year we had a blast, as usual.  Angel really enjoyed her second year, and I still had to call Josh for directions.

December brought snow, Christmas, and the end of this looong year.  It is the first time that we have reached our halfway point before Christmas, so we celebrate by taking a long school break to prepare for Christmas.  We made tons of cookies, wrapped presents, decorate, and then ended up in the hospital with Angel and a severe stomach virus.  But it is the end of the year, we are beginning to feel better, and soon 2013 will bring more surprises, more joy, and more laughter.  We are ready, bring it on 2013!!