Angry Birds Enthusiast

So. Ever since the Drama Queen discovered Angry Birds on our PS3, she has been addicted to launching those birds at the grunting pigs and rescuing as many eggs as she can. (Psst - don't tell her that it's also on my Iphone - I'll never see my Iphone again!)

She thinks it's hysterical and giggles the entire time she's playing. (which is really not all that often, since I limit video game time). She also is WAY WAY better than I am at the silly game.

Is it any wonder that when Daddy brought home a soft plush Angry Bird that makes the same funny bird sounds as the game that my Drama Queen was completely thrilled?!

Wordless Wednesday - The Spruce Goose

Evergreen Air and Space Museum. Home of the famous Spruce Goose. My husband has lived here all his life and never been to see this landmark; so we finally got together with some friends and went.

The Spruce Goose - so big it took up the entire building and all the other planes and aircraft were dwarfed beside it.

We even got to go inside the Spruce Goose!






more wordless fun at 5 Minutes for Mom...

Identity

To two very special people in my life, I am "Daughter." For many years I fulfilled this role by doing my best to obey them and spending time with them. Now, I still am "Daughter", although the role has changed to long phone calls and pictures of grandkids.

To four more people scattered across this nation (and Canada!), I am "Sister." I tackled this identity with great gusto, balancing being a fun playmate and being the most annoying pest ever as well as I could. I suppose not much has changed in that arena. I still am "Sister" through phone calls, Facebook messages, and text messages.

To one amazing man, I am "Wife." I took on this position almost seven years ago, not realizing what an incredible blessing and crazy journey being a wife would be. As long as God gives us life, I will be my Nerd's wife and partner in crime.

To three adorable children, I am "Mom." Daily, I change diapers, wipe noses, clean up spilled juice, teach ABC's, buckle car seats, potty train, entertain, coax to nap, and encourage the littles. I also have the great privilege of sharing God with them every day, through verses, songs, and prayer. I sense this role changing all the time as the kids grow. I will always be glad to hold the title "Mom."

To many wonderful people, I am "Friend." I take this position seriously and rejoice in each friendship with which God has blessed me. I am thankful for the long chats, on-the-spot babysitting, care, and prayers that this title has afforded me.

To thirteen crazy junior-highers, I am "Teacher." To my family, I am "Housekeeper." I could continue to list the many titles or identities that I possess. Each are a part of my identity, but one title completely sums up my entire identity:

I am "His."

He is my source of life. Acts 17:28 tells me that I live and move and have my being in Him.

He knows me. He understands my frailty (Psalm 103:14) and knows what it's like to be tempted. (Hebrews 4:15).

He cares about me. "Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you." I Peter 5:7

He represents me. He "ever liveth to make intercession"(Hebrews 7:25) before my Heavenly Father, and he defends me against Satan. (Revelation 12:10).

Because I am His, I am His heir. He is preparing a place for me right now (John 14:2), and I will get to experience eternal fellowship with Him - "so shall we ever be with the Lord." (I Thessalonians 4:17)

Knowing your identity is what controls your life. Live your life solely as a mom, and other relationships will suffer. Live your life as self, and chaos and destruction are sure to follow.

But, when I get to live my life being His, it colors every other part of my identity and helps me be a better wife, a more patient mom, a more compassionate friend, and so on. This is what it means to belong to Christ. No identity crisis here!

Wordless Wednesday - Friends :)

nothing like sharing a giggle or two with your best friend. . .

Dear Therapy

Dear Therapy:

At first I worried about you. I hesitated to be associated with the stigma that your name comes with. Did we really "need" you? Did this mean that the Beast's "problem" was a lot more serious than we thought?

And now we have walked quite the journey with you. Twenty fifty-minute sessions. Twenty Wednesday mornings with twenty co-pays and twenty "Hi my Sally Ann!"s. Twenty times to see progress, over and over again.

Thank you for giving my little guy confidence. He couldn't even stand up straight for more than a few minutes at a time, and now look at him perfectly balanced on the rocking board while getting ready to toss his bean bag.

I never thought I would cry so much, although I've heard therapy does that to you. Every milestone, every tiny step taken in the right direction has filled my eyes with happy tears. A successful slide down the incline, an arduous climb through the hammocks, a joyful exploration in the ball pit, a tedious cutting out of simple shapes, a step into a tub of scary textures and facing the fears - all working to make my Beast a little closer to being "the same" as his peers.

And oh the encouragement from Mrs. Sally Ann! I leave you each Wednesday morning beaming with pride at the praise and kind compliments I have heard about my son. The benefits of therapy for him and for our whole family have been more than I would ever have imagined.

I am sorry to be saying goodbye, sorry that frustrating healthcare policies and insurance qualifications are preventing us from going further. If each session wasn't the cost of a small car payment, perhaps we could continue; but until the insurance company sees it our way, I am afraid that we will not be seeing you for a while.

Thank you for what you have done for my son.

---dedicated to the best, kindest, most brilliant therapist ever - my Sally Ann.

---pictures were taken on my cell phone, hence the lower quality.

Friends

What do you do when your child seems to be an outsider? How do you handle it when it becomes evident that your child is being left out of things? How much should Momma get involved?

A few mornings ago, I herded my chaotic crew into the Drama Queen's school into the early morning room. I was teaching the junior high Spanish class that day; so I stayed in the room, trying to maintain some control over the male offspring before handing them off to their babysitter. I watched my daughter walk to the back of the room and sit in a row of chairs all by herself. One of her classmates walked over and asked her, "Hey, why do you always sit by yourself? Come on over here and sit with us!" My daughter shook her head, "No, I don't want to. I wanna sit here." The classmate shrugged her shoulders and walked back to her friends. Soon they were pointing at the Drama Queen, whispering and giggling. I looked at the cluster of girls, arms around each other, undoubtedly saying mean things about my daughter. Then I looked back at my girl. She seemed unaware that any whispering and giggling were going on. Honestly, I wanted to march right over to those girls and demand to know what they were whispering about. Then, my second thought was to go over to the Drama Queen and ask her why on earth she didn't want to sit with friends.

I agonized over what to do. It was tearing me up inside to see my little girl all alone while the other children played and chatted together. Finally, despite what I WANTED to do, I backed off and went to my classroom to set up for Spanish. But the images of what just happened stayed in my head all day. I decided to talk to her about it after school.

I tried to wait for an appropriate time to bring it up.

"Honey, who is your best friend at school?" I questioned her.

She shrugged. "I don't know, Mom."

"Well, what about. . . " and I went on to list the other girls in her class.

"No, I don't think so, Mom," she answered.

"Sweetheart, why didn't you go and sit with the other girls when they asked you this morning?"

"I didn't want to - I wanted to be by myself," she stated firmly.

"But don't you want to have friends and spend time with them?"

"No," she said flatly. "I don't really care, Mom."

You can't force your kid to make friends, can you? I was at a loss, not knowing how this worked. When I was her age, I loved being around my friends and would never have wanted to be by myself. This was foreign territory for me. I decided to let it go and talk to my hubby about it later. Being the introvert in our relationship, he might have some insight into the whole thing.

Ten minutes later, the Drama Queen spoke up. "Oh, I know, " she said. "Mom, my best friend is Tanner. He says he's gonna marry me when we grow up!"

Well, then. Maybe we have a different social problem altogether. . .

:)

Going Green

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

We are celebrating with shamrock pancakes and a little treasure from the end of the rainbow. (chocolate coins) :)

We have also discovered that the Spud has not a stitch of green in his wardrobe, but the Beast has saved the day by sharing one of his shirts. Unfortunately, the Spud drowns in the Beast's shirts.

I love any excuse to do something a little special for my kiddos!

Wordless Wednesday - She's Reading

so mostly for the grandparents and other adoring relatives. . . our preschooler is reading!

just had to brag for a minute. :)

okay, better go check on the kids. they are probably doing something I don't want to brag about.

more wordless fun at 5 Minutes for Mom...

I See It Now

I hurried across campus, clutching several large pieces of posterboard protected by plastic bags. Sliding into my desk with a few minutes to spare, I couldn't resist taking one more peek at my art work. The shading on each seashell and the detailing on the treasure chest had taken me hours; but I felt confident that the time was well-spent and would pay off with a good grade. My Materials and Methods professor stopped at my desk to collect my project. She glanced at it briefly. "You always put so much effort into your visuals, Miss Vasel," she remarked. "Just remember you can make great visuals and still not be a good teacher." The comment stung - I was hoping she would notice the detail and quality of my visual pieces. I knew she was right however; and I determined to spend more time on learning and practicing good teaching methods and disciplines practices. Still, on the weekends and during my summers, I created dozens of visuals for teaching aids, preparing for my future teaching career.

I had no idea what a large part visual aids would play in my life. At first, I did not use them that often because I took on a junior high teaching job in which the students were not impressed with carefully-shaded dinosaurs or hand-chalked clowns. When I moved to teaching elementary grades, I took great delight in creating jungle decorations and Peanuts visual aids for my classes. With our first child soon to be born, I stopped teaching to be at home with my baby. I missed drawing, painting, and coloring visuals for my students, but my mommy life was crazy busy. Life marched on as we added more children to the family, and I even enjoyed a brief stint as owner of my own home art business.

When David was diagnosed with high-functioning autism last summer, we began immediately to seek out methods of connecting with him better. I knew he did not learn things the same way that most kids did, and putting him in an ESD preschool helped tremendously. They helped us figure out that our David is a very visual learner. He needs visuals for EVERYTHING! I started out with a comic-strip visual to help him remember all the steps for potty training:

He panics when he does not know what is happening next; so this helps a lot in the potty arena. He is still not "potty-trained"; but he is getting closer to that goal.

With that success, I decided to tackle another problem area - haircuts. Because he has sensory issues, David screams/cries/melts down every time he gets his hair trimmed. It takes both of us to hold him down while we attempt to make his hair look decent. However, with the visual above, we have been able to reduce the screams/meltdowns to just crying. It's a major improvement.

David's teacher provided us with these visuals, called PECS (Picture Exchange Communication System) visuals. The little pictures attach to the strip with velcro so they can be changed up as needed to match that day's schedule. This particular strip goes with us everywhere we go, along with a few ziploc bags of pictures we may need. David is a lot calmer and more focused when he can see what's next on the schedule. This strip alone has cut our "get-out-the-front-door-in-the-morning" time from fifteen minutes to five minutes!

We have other PECS strips posted up in the house to help David too. One is designed to help him remember to stay at the dinner table, and another helps him make the transition from playtime to something else, such as dinner time or nap time.

This is David's choice board. I actually use it with all three kids. For example, I tell them that they have five minutes left of play time. After play time, they will have five minutes to clean up. If they are successful, they will get to choose an activity from the choice board. (I usually put up two or three to choose from.) It surprises me how often they choose books or crafts over TV or movies

I had no idea back in college while I was slaving away over those teaching visuals that God was preparing me to be a parent of an autistic child. God's plan is always amazing to watch as it unfolds! Every time I open my purse and catch a glimpse of my sketchpad that I use to draw quick visuals for David on the go, I smile at the thought that God gave me a talent I can use to help my child.

They're Playing Our Song

When our sweet Drama Queen was a newborn, she had trouble getting to sleep at night unless Momma sang to her. She exhausted my (actually pretty extensive) song supply, but her favorite was my rendition of "K-K-K-Katie." Of course, we substituted her name in for the "Katie" part, and as time went on, it became "her song."

The Beast loves music as well. Very early on, it became apparent that his song would be "You Are the Sunshine of My Life." I cannot count how many times I sang (and still sing!) that song just to get him to give me one of his priceless smiles.

When the Spud arrived, we knew that sweet and sappy love songs were not for him. It took us a little longer to find just the right song for him. One day, "Macaroni and Cheese" by Bill Harley came on over the kids' satellite radio station. Since we call him our "Mikeroni and Cheese", the song was a perfect fit!

Lately, we have been tailoring certain songs to fit our family. The kids are overjoyed every time we manage to fit their name into a song - it makes them feel special. As I was changing the Spud's diaper a few weeks ago, I belted out "My Girl" for his listening pleasure, singing "Michael" in place of "my girl" every time it appears in the song. The Beast immediately latched onto this song and asks for me to sing it all the time - of course, he wants his name in it though. "Sing the Sunshine David song!" he will beg. And many times, he will break out with his own rendition of the song. Each time, I think how adorable it is and run to get the video camera to capture his song stylings for memory's sake. Only, he finishes before I can press the record button or flatly refuses to sing once he sees the camera.

On Wednesday, he began singing it in the van as we drove home from taking the Drama Queen to school. "Wait buddy!" I shouted. At the next stoplight, I got out my I-phone and held it behind me. "Okay, sing it now" I instructed, pressing the record button. And he did, singing it for his girl (which he has never done before.) So here it is, for posterity. I apologize for the general quality - but hey I was driving at the time. :)

oh how I love my little man!

Wordless Wednesday - Daddy's Girl

more wordless fun at 5 Minutes for Mom...

Grandmas Are Cool

What better way to start a snow day than to wake up and discover that Grandma has come over to spend the whole day! Breakfast tastes so much yummier when cuddled on Grandma's lap reading the current favorite, Amelia Bedelia. Movies and fun TV shows are watched, and many exciting games of Uno Moo and Candyland are played with great vigor. Magazines and McDonalds' breakfast are brought over to spoil Mommy. Even potty training is a lot more exciting when Grandma is there!

Best of all, Grandma stays through the evening so Mommy and Daddy can go out on a date. While Mommy and Daddy are enjoying Chang's Mongolian Grill, Grandma reads more books and gives everyone a wonderful bubble bath. She even lets all the kiddies camp out on the boys' room floor for a "sleepover."

Yeah, Grandmas are pretty cool. . .

Hey Rain

Rain, rain, rain, we wish you'd go away.

We haven't seen the sun shine on us for too many days!

We want to coast on the playground slide without soaking through our pants.

We want to get out in our yard and sing and play and dance.

We want to take a walk that doesn't require boots and a raincoat.

We want to live in a house, not a "castle" with a moat.

Still. . .

If all this rain causes our living room to be turned into a four-star restaurant run by the youngest chefs ever. . .

If we end up reading every book we own twice, acting out our favorite characters. . .

If we make hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and use the other marshmallows to make little men with pretzel sticks. . .

If we camp out on our bedroom floors and make cozy tents between the beds. . .

I guess all this rain isn't so bad after all.

Bury Me Momma!

Part of the Beast's "treatment" for autism is a 50 minute session with occupational therapist Sally Ann every week. She works with him on physical skills and fine motor skills, as well as coping with change and dealing with sensory issues. The Beast loves his Sally Ann and tries hard to please her. Sometimes, though, he needs a little more motivation to stay focused. This is when Sally Ann pulls out the "big reward" - being buried in the ball pit! Due to his sensory issues, he really enjoys being surrounded by certain things - water, for example - and the balls in the deep ball pit at therapy. If he does well, Sally Ann allows him to go into the pit while we bury him completely under the balls. (Personally I would never enjoy such a thing. The balls are freezing cold, and I hate being completely covered by anything!) This past week, I took a short video so you all can see how much my little man likes this reward! :)

It's the little joys that count!