Farewell, Blended Class

http://youtu.be/cvfBZoqlqgo
Wednesday marked a significant milestone for us.  The Beast graduated from Blended Preschool!  The previous year he had been in an all-special-needs preschool class with excellent teachers who helped him make so much progress.  This year, we were again blessed with great teachers that assisted him in making the switch to a blended class (some "normal," some like him).  In two years, our little man has really grown and made so many improvements.

Every day is a challenge with that young man.  Just when I think I have him "figured out," he goes and proves me wrong.  He is notoriously a bad sleeper - so when he took a long time to fall asleep last night, I didn't worry too much about it.  I knew he would probably sleep in and give his body the rest it needed, as he always did.  Not so - at 5:00 am there was a pounding on our bedroom door.  "Mo-om!  Da-ad!  It's time to be up!  The sun is out!"  An eager Beast bounced into our room and let the world know he was awake.  Yay.  No amount of persuasion got him back in bed, in case you're wondering.

Along with the challenges come blessings too.  The depth of love from that boy is incredible.  He is an amazing storyteller.  His connection with his siblings is unmatched.  He has a zest for life that inspires all of us.

God knew.  He designed our Beast especially for us.  He planned that we would face these challenges and difficulties that come with autism, knowing that there is a greater plan behind it all.  I don't know why God chose to give us the Beast.  I don't know why He thought us qualified to "handle" a special-needs kid.  I do believe God has a reason for this amazing young man in our lives, and to be honest, I'm pretty excited to see what God has planned for his future! 

Happy Graduation, buddy!

Figuring Out the Puzzle

Key words appearing in my Swagbucks search engine recently:

homeschooling an autistic child

how to make a weighted vest for autism

spiderman toys for gift ideas

how to help your autistic child adjust to new baby

My not-so-little Beast has been on my mind a lot lately, probably because he has evaluations later this week and because my little man is turning five in a month! It can be so overwhelming, treading the territory of "autism spectrum" and relearning everything you thought you should do as a parent.

I am so thankful I serve a God that is never overwhelmed and can guide us through this new stage in our lives. Psalm 32:8 is testament to that: "I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go; I will guide thee with mine eye."

Super

Lately I've been finding myself trying to be "super mom." All right - who am I kidding? The attempts started when sweet little Drama Queen was born. This condition has been only exacerbated by reading too many "perfect" mommy blogs or trying to compare myself to other mommies I know.

I think that sometimes I forget that my family is not "their" family. My kids are not "their" kids. God made our family unit unique - and what's right for our family may not necessarily work for another family.

I also need to be reminded (more often than I care to admit!) that I can't do anything without God. Every day is proof that I am painfully human and that I can only "do all things THROUGH Christ which strengtheneth me."

And as I continue on this perilous journey called motherhood, I am discovering that the path that is right for our family is not the popular one. Even amidst Christian circles, the choices we are making as a family draw negative attention and criticism. I used to care about these comments, these harsh words of "constructive criticism." I felt my family should look like and act like and participate in the same things as all the other families in our circle.

More and more, I am realizing that it isn't about me and "fitting in" with others. God's way is perfect. "For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end." (Jeremiah 29:11)

I wish I could say that this momma fully trusts God in every thing, especially the new steps that are coming up in our lives soon. I'm still working on that - but I feel a peace knowing that the decisions we are making are the right ones.

I won't be achieving that "super mom" status any time soon, but I am so thankful I have a super God on which to lean!

Who Art Thou Cancer?

Cancer. It's such an ugly word. There is no way to mask it in a pleasant conversation or casually mention it as if it were a passing thought. The word cancer carries such a heavy weight and serious meaning.

My mom has cancer. The doctors found it the first time just weeks before my first child was born.

The news was scary. I didn't like the unknown, the uncertainty of it all. All four of my grandparents suffered from different cancers and passed away while I was in college. I wanted to be there for my mom - only I had no idea what that meant, or how I could really accomplish that.

Now, once again, my mom has been diagnosed with cancer. This time it is not only breast cancer, but they have found cancer in her thyroid as well. Once again, our family is confronted with that ugly word: cancer.

When I heard the news, I cried. I prayed, and then I cried again. "What next? What next?" my heart kept begging. What sort of treatments would she have to endure? Would they work? Could the doctors help her? I spent a lot of time thinking about how WE could help her.

Then, in the Wednesday night service at our church, our pastor highlighted two verses from the book of Zechariah. He was teaching us about Ezra in his "Walk Through the Bible" series and used the verses to show how the prophet Zechariah foretold that Zerubbabel would be successful in rebuilding the temple, but that it would be through the power of God, not his own power.

Zechariah 4:6-7

"Then he answered and spake unto me, saying, This is the word of the Lord unto Zerubbabel, saying, Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts.

Who art thou, O great mountain? before Zerubbabel thou shalt become a plain: and he shall bring forth the headstone thereof with shoutings, crying, Grace, grace unto it."

I reread those verses again, amazed and humbled by the reminder that God will accomplish things in our lives in His spirit, not by our strength or might. I read the verses again; only with my mind on my Mom's cancer, I read it this way:

"Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts. Who art thou, cancer? before us thou shalt become small and weak and nothing, and we will bring forth our mom before Him, crying, Grace, grace unto her."

So that's what we are going to do. Look to the Lord, and beg Him for His grace.

Crying "Grace, grace" today. . .

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!

Autism and Grief

After we got the official diagnosis of "high-functioning autism" for Davey from his evaluations, life suddenly got extremely busy. I had a wedding cake to make for a friend. I was behind on custom orders for The Framed Frog and so was working on them every spare minute I had. Both the Beast and the Drama Queen took turns being up all night with a stomach virus. I had to write scripts for the VBS puppets and then perform them every night with my puppeting friends. My sister had her baby. (long phone calls).

Finally, yesterday, the chaos slowed a little. I actually spent my morning in normal activities, like cleaning my kitchen and doing loads of laundry. Despite the Nerd being home from work sick, I managed to straighten up the living room and make the place look somewhat comfortable. After all, we were having company!

At 1:30, there was a knock at the door, and an energetic man named Scott came in, immediately taking off his shoes and bounding up the stairs in search of Davey. Davey, who almost never acknowledges when we have a visitor, especially strangers, ran up to Scott and began shouting random things like "Hey I have a brother" and "I like hot dogs!" Within five minutes, Davey was seated on Scott's lap being tickled while the Drama Queen filed in and out of the room, showing off each of her Toy Story toys to our guest. You would have thought that Davey and Scott had known each other for years!

Scott is going to be Davey's teacher at the Early Intervention Preschool in the fall. For two and a half hours every Tuesday and Thursday, he is going to be working with Davey on specific objectives that we have set for him. I was grateful to see the connection between Davey and his new teacher, and the two of them spent over half an hour just playing and talking and getting to know each other. Then Scott went over some of the specifics with me, drawing some diagrams out on a sheet of paper and talking. He left with a "See you at school, David!" It was a very hopeful and positive experience.

But last night, as the Nerd dozed off on the couch and I tried to get some things done, I found myself in tears. Frustrated that I would be crying over "nothing", I turned on the TV and tried to focus on my to-do list. Before I knew it, I was sobbing - the kind of crying that doesn't allow you to do anything else but cry. The Nerd woke up and asked me what was wrong. I didn't really know. I finally realized that in all the busyness of the past week or so, I hadn't allowed myself or even had time to think about David's diagnosis. The tears came fast and heavy, and strangely I felt embarrassed, as if no one would really understand why I was crying. I didn't really understand why I was crying. David's diagnosis is the best possible diagnosis we could have gotten. Unlike many other children on the autism spectrum, David has a wonderful vocabulary and is very loving. In fact, there are some days when I wonder if we should have even taken him in to get evaluated - he seems so "normal."

But then he has a "bad day" full of melt-downs when he reverts to speaking in gibberish and cries hysterically at the smallest things. He bites his siblings and does things that have no explanation. Those are the days that are painful reminders of why we chose this journey in the first place.

I guess I didn't really understand it when the special education therapist offered us a grief counselor as a resource. Now I know. There is grief for the obstacles and uphill battles ahead of us, and grief for Davey. He has such a promising future, but he will have to work harder at things than most kids. Making friends will never be easy for him.

The tears are still coming this morning, although not nearly as much as they were last night. I know that God is in control and that He has a special plan for my son; but I also know that it's okay to cry and release all those feelings and fears.

Today is going to be a good day. I just got a big smile and hug from Davey, and the Drama Queen has politely asked me to please stop using the computer so we can play. :)

Special Times

I am sitting at the kitchen table with all three kids clamoring for my attention. The Drama Queen wants me to confirm that tomorrow is indeed her half-birthday; the Spud is anxious to get down from his high chair. The Beast is demanding that I look at a picture on the wall, and if past behavior is any indication, he will insist that I look at the same picture several more times today.

Although I am subconsciously answering these questions and releasing the Spud from his chair, my real attention is focused on a stack of papers in front of me. Each sheet has the logo ESD emblazoned across the letterhead, and I am trying to find all the "sign here"s and "date here"s. Somehow, seeing all the paperwork that will potentially put our son in special education suddenly makes the whole situation much more real. On one hand, I am excited - eager to get some more answers and to get our Davey the help he needs to function socially.

On the other hand, however, I am also preparing for a very different meeting tonight. Tonight the Nerd and I meet up with the Drama Queen's preschool teacher and discuss "normal" things like where to purchase her uniform, what fun things she is going to get to do in class this year, etc. Tomorrow is the meeting with all the ESD folks, where the discussion will not be so "normal." Tomorrow, they will be deciding whether or not Davey is a candidate for Early Intervention Preschool. Again, I am happy and hoping so much that he will get this help; but it saddens me a little as well. As a mom, I never expected to hear "ESD" or "special education" used to refer to my child.

Strangely enough, it is not really a negative feeling. I feel blessed that God has entrusted us with the task of raising this special child. He must see something in me that I don't - not yet, anyway!

On Thursday, we will be gearing ourselves up for a very busy morning. The Nerd has taken the time off work, and together we and Davey will be meeting with several specialists throughout the morning. These meetings will result in the official diagnosis -Aspergers or otherwise.

Thank you all so much for your prayers and kind comments, dear readers. And local friends, I cannot thank you enough for the many spur-of-the-moment baby-sittings and advice and hugs. :)

God is faithful, and He knows.
"I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works, and that my soul knoweth right well. My substance was not hid from thee, when i was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect, and in they book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them. How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them!" Psalm 139:14-17

Trust

So. Recently I made a big decision. At least, I thought I had made the decision. I analyzed the problem, did a LOT of research in the topic, and consulted with trusted and very respected people. I prayed and sought God's will in it. All done. Finished, right?

But then. . .

I talk to some other people in my life. Others that I also trust and respect immensely. And their advice/opinions clashed with my decision. Suddenly I am second-guessing myself. Did I make the right decision? Since it is still in the "could-be-changed" stage, should I change it?I don't know what to do. It wasn't an easy decision to make in the first place.

I think all the hesitation comes from the fact that it has to do with one of my kids. It's a major step, and the momma in me is eager and yet reluctant to make this decision.

So I cried a lot today. yeah. It's been that kind of day. I went back to the Bible in search of His wisdom. I needed to trust in Him. I found "As for God, His way is perfect; the word of the Lord is tried; he is a buckler to all them that put their trust in Him." 2 Samuel 22:31 And in Psalm 37:5, I am reminded to "Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass."

Yes, my original decision was right. By putting my trust in God, I know that I can trust myself to make good decisions.

It's still hard. And I am sorry to be so vague on this. I will be able to share more next week.

but for now, just trusting...

One day the teacher met the nerd...

When I pause to think about how I, the nerd, and our lovely children have made it to this place in our lives, I am fully convinced of the reality of God's plan in every Christian's life. Growing up in a Christian home meant that I heard frequently of how God had a special plan for each Christian's life. It also meant that I memorized that verse in Isaiah in which God says that "my ways are not your ways." Even still, I figured as a young teenager that I had that plan all figured out already. And here (so I thought) was God's plan for my life: go to a Christian college to study to be a Christian school teacher, meet amazing handsome guy during sophomore year, begin dating, and get engaged by senior year. The wedding would naturally follow soon after graduation, and amazing handsome guy and I would move back to Pennsylvania to live near my family while I taught elementary school. After a few years, we would have a boy and a girl (red-haired, hopefully) and live happily ever after.

So. . . yeah. it didn't quite happen that way. At first, it seemed that everything was going according to plan. (my plan anyway) I graduated from high school and headed off to Pensacola Christian College in the fall of 1998. My major? elementary education, of course. Other el. ed. majors encouraged me to take Bible as my minor because it was the "easy" route. Never one to do things the easy way, I decided to make Spanish my minor for no real reason except that I liked a challenge!

Life was good. I was doing well in my classes, getting excited about becoming a teacher, and making friends. By sophomore year, I was starting to look around for that amazing handsome guy I was supposed to meet. In October, my brother Andy (who was also attending PCC at that time) called me up and wanted to know if I would go to church that evening with him and a few of his friends. I agreed, and was surprised to discover that "a few" meant 20 people! I ended up sitting several seats down from my brother between two guys I didn't know. Brothers, actually. I struck up a conversation with the "nice-looking although shorter than me" one on my right and discovered that we didn't have very much in common. Still, I kept on talking (a habit that's gotten me in so much trouble over the years!) and started to really enjoy our conversation. By the end of the service, he had me convinced that I should meet him at the Sports Center that weekend so he could teach me how to play racquetball.

My roommates of course made a big deal about the occasion - how Jeanette was going on a date with a guy that was shorter than she was, how much did I actually like him, blah, blah, blah. I insisted it was not a date and that I was just going to learn how to play racquetball. Besides, I didn't like him that much anyway. Apparently, after whacking the ball against a wall several times(oh so much fun), we discovered that we really enjoyed each other's company and thus began a wonderful friendship. I lamented to him that no cute guys ever asked me out; he consoled me as he worried about asking another girl to a formal event. When the computer refused to cooperate in producing an important paper, he helped me solve the problem. Did I mention he was a nerd? Yes, it was very beneficial to befriend this guy! :)

Near the end of that sophomore year, I began to think that there was more to us than just friendship. I found myself looking forward to his phone calls and eagerly reading campus mail from him in the evenings. Like a typical girl, I analyzed everything and tried to read between the lines. Did he have feelings for me too? Should I say something or let him say it first? The semester ended, and we parted ways, with me heading back home for the summer in PA and the nerd going to his home in Oregon. We promised to write, call, and email often throughout the summer. As soon as I got home, I sent out the first letter. And another. And another. I called him and emailed him. But he never responded. His mom would answer the phone with a vague "Oh, he can't talk to you right now" and my mailbox remained empty. At first, I was hurt, and then I got angry. This was not supposed to happen this way! By this time, we should be dating (according to the plan, remember?) And if he didn't feel that way about me, couldn't he just man up and tell me?

Junior year began, and I returned to college much more serious and very very irritated. After a few weeks, he finally called me and asked if we could meet for dinner. I agreed (though I fully admit I probably did not use a pleasant tone of voice). Over dinner, he "explained" to me that we had spent way too much time together the past year and that his friends thought we were dating. Since he wasn't ready for this step yet, he thought it would be a good idea if we only got together every once in a while, say once a month or so. I was furious and made it clear that friends shouldn't ignore each other for a whole summer and then plan on only spending time together occasionally. I said some pretty horrible things, including that I never wanted to talk to him or spend time with him again.

Life went on, although the plan was starting to really fall apart. I dated a guy for a while later that year, and he broke my heart (on a voice mail, no less!) Senior year came, and I was too busy trying to survive my Spanish classes and do my student teaching to date anyone. The past two years had been miserable for me - I had bitterness in my heart and knew it. I told people that I had forgiven the nerd for hurting me, but I knew I hadn't. The nerd finally approached me during our senior year and asked again for my forgiveness. Not only that, but he told me that he had been doing a lot of praying (working a graveyard shift at the local print shop) and felt that we should start dating as well. Right. Sure. I can be incredibly stubborn at times ( it's a tragic family trait) and refused on the dating bit. I did forgive him, which was such a relief and balm to my spirit, but I only spent time with him when we were in a group. At this time, I was trying to figure out what God had next for me. I scrapped the whole "amazing handsome guy" part of the plan and focused on becoming a Christian school teacher. Ideally, I would be teaching fourth or fifth grade at a Christian school in Pennsylvania, I decided. I interviewed at several schools in the PA/NJ/MD/NY area. On a whim, I also applied at a school in Massachusetts. By the end of that week, I had received four offers from various schools, one of which was the school in Massachusetts. The principal of that school called me and told me he felt that God's plan for me was to teach eighth grade at their school. Ha! Geographically and grade-wise, this did not fit in with the plan, and I politely said no thank you. He was very persistent however, and I finally agreed to fly up and see the school. Immediately I felt that this was to be my new home (and freaked my parents out a little when I told them I was going to be teaching EIGHTH grade and high school Spanish in MASSACHUSETTS). :) I graduated from college (summa cum laude, baby!) and got ready to move to MA.

Meanwhile that summer, the nerd and I had started to email and chat on the phone occasionally. I saw him as a good friend and enjoyed my conversations with him. In August of 2002, I moved to MA and settled in with a couple of other teachers. That was the most intense, crazy, exhausting, ridiculous school year I have ever had! I had 18 eighth-graders all day (eleven of them were boys!) That class made me laugh and cry and smile and want to tear my hair out. Many times, I found myself driven to the phone to call my good friend in Oregon to vent about my class or cry about some students going astray or share a supremely funny story. (Sometime I will have to share a few of those stories here) In November of 2002, my parents called to let me know that they would be spending the holidays in Korea with my older brother and his family. My roommates had Christmas plans of their own with their families, and I wondered how I should spend my Christmas. Then the nerd's mom called me up one day and told me she had found out that I didn't have anywhere to go for Christmas this year. She invited me to come visit them in Oregon for Christmas. Having never been west of the Mississippi River and not being eager to spend Christmas alone, I boarded a plane to Portland, OR in December 2002.

At this point, here's how God's plan had unfolded for me: go to college, study to be a teacher, learn a lot about heartbreak and getting over yourself, make good friends, stay single, go teach in Massachusetts. Oh yeah, and it's a bunch of rowdy eighth-graders. Good luck! Ha Ha. I arrived in Oregon and immediately started getting to know the multitudes of relatives of the nerd. Christmas Day came and consisted of a constant stream of relatives and friends coming in and out of the house. When at last the busyness subsided, I sat down on the sofa to relax and catch my breath. The nerd sat down beside me, and we talked. We talked about our families, my class, sports, the weather, everything you could possibly think of except the one thing that was dominating both of our minds and hearts. Finally Chris (yep, he's the nerd) said, "So what are we going to do about us?" I looked at him, really looked at him, and realized that I did not want to spend the rest of my life with him as just my friend. I wanted to be his best friend and love him forever. You know how people talk about love at first sight? Well, it wasn't for me - it took me five years to realize I was really in love with this guy! (Hey, I already told you that I don't like to do things the easy way). Chris told me that he had loved me since sophomore year of college. I thank God that he was(and is!) such a patient guy. :)

More bumpy roads lay ahead, as we navigated the perils of a long-distance relationship. The 1 1/2 years we dated, we only saw each other face-to-face for six weeks. I knew it had to be God's plan when we survived that! After a funny and romantic proposal (I'll have to save that for another post, this is getting too long!) Chris and I married on June 12, 2004. Three babies and my own home art business later, i have come to realize that God's way is best. It surely doesn't always make sense. And when my stubbornness and human nature get in the way, God has to work AROUND those things to eventually work out His plan.

Our fifth wedding anniversary is tomorrow. I am truly amazed and blessed at how God has worked in our lives.

And I know that this blog is mostly about the kids, their cuteness, their destruction, and other humorous anecdotes. Unfortunately the nerd rarely gets mentioned. Please don't think badly of him after reading the account above. He is the sweetest, kindest, most giving man I have ever know. He is my "amazing handsome" guy I had always looked for. And hey, he has been doing the dishes for me every night so that I can focus a little more time on my business! Yep, he's a keeper! :)