So the boys are out of school this week for Spring break. J is, of course, thrilled and has loved being able to play on the computer and do his own thing, for the most part. Z, I'm not so sure about. He's been sick a lot of this week. We've been trying to figure out what's wrong with him as he's been running a fever and then fine but talking funny and suddenly developing a strange habit of spitting. A lot. Sigh. Today we took him to the doctor and they gave him a shot of antibiotic since Brandon has strep they figure Z does too so they might as well treat it. Bless his baby heart.
Anyways, back to my topic. So they have been off of school the whole week. I will admit that Brandon and my FIL have been taking care of the majority of childcare as I have been working with the baby I nanny for and doing the food pantry so the majority of child issues have been left to them. That being said I have watched my house slowly disappear under layer after layer of items. There's the toy room. To be honest it was already going under. I suffer from a horrible case of "what if we need it, someday?" and tend to keep toys for way too long. I think it stems from Z not playing for such a long time so I kept many different toys around in his line of vision and many times in his path hoping that he would suddenly take them up and begin to play appropriately with them. (Denial runs strong in my family) When he actually began to play with toys (whooo hoooo) I was afraid to throw any of them away as his likes would change quickly and he would play with something for a while, not play for a while and then pick it up again. I was afraid if I got rid of anything and he suddenly wanted it again I would have to either hunt for it or buy it again. Thus my playroom is in desperate need of divine intervention. I will also say that the toy room floor was visible today thanks to my amazing husband who cleared a path for our monorail to be set up in there. Unfortunately the monorail suffered a sneak attack from an unknown assailant and is now in my dining room seeking asylum.
Then there's my kitchen. The floor looks good but there seems to be a mound of "things" on my island. It appears there is an episode of Survivor being filmed on my island and no one is wanting to be voted off. I'm thinking the first casualty is going to be the chocolate covered pomegranate seeds I got for Brandon since I'm going to get them and eat some once I'm doing posting this blog. Honestly, they never really had a chance.
I shudder to think of the upstairs hallway as most of the clean laundry almost made it folded to their final resting place but in a freak accident they instead got dumped in the hallway. Lucky for me about half of them are still folded. The rest....well, just don't look to closely at my kids clothes the next week or so.
Bathrooms are ok as they are small. I can actually get them clean and wiped down in a timely manner. If all else fails I can go open the bathroom door and see that not all is lost.
So, the question is, it's only Thursday of spring break week and the boys don't go back to school until Monday. The mess is winning right now but I have not been home and have the fortune of being home the next several days to wage battle on the dust bunnies, dust mites, cobwebs, and all the miscellaneous items that appear on every cleared surface I unearth.
As I wage war in one room knowing the boys are in the previous room I just cleaned undoing everything I have just done I struggle with discouragement. Why even bother? It's a losing battle? I'm so frustrated and no one cares? I'm going to go eat some more of those chocolate covered pomegranates. It really is hard sometimes (or all the time) to do the same thing over and over again and not see the benefit for more than a couple of hours, if that. I have to admit, in this one I don't have any sage advice. It's just hard. There's not much worse than picking up the whole playroom, putting the toys all organized into separate bins and piles only to hear a crash 1 hour later and see all that organization in a pile in the middle of the room. I can scold Z and tell him he's bad and even give him a time out but the problem is that he will do the same thing over and over again because for him the joy is in the mingling of toys, the sensation of piles of toys being spread all over himself.
There are just some things you have to live with. The boys will go back to school and in two weeks I will have a Friday off where the boys will be in school and I can clean the house without them being home. In that day I will figure out where my floors went, film the finale of Survivor on my kitchen island, put aside a couple boxes of toys to give away, and hopefully get the clothes not only folded but into drawers. We all have to have goals. (grin)
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Luggage
One quirky thing the boys do is carry around what I call their "luggage". It started out with J about three or four years ago where he wanted to carry his stuffed animals with him. At the time he was very excited about Beanie babies and had amassed quite a collection due to various grandparents having collections themselves and lots of beanie babies on sale at garage sales. He would want to carry all of them (at one point over 100) with him when we went places. We would encourage him to pick out his favorites and leave the rest home. He would deliberate long and hard over this decision and mentally keep track of what beanie babies had not gone on outings for a while and which ones were particular favorites. When we went on longer trips we allowed more of them to go depending on the length of the trip and it amazed me how he would remember which beanie baby was packed in which suitcase (since they took up multiple suitcases).
After Beanie babies Josh graduated to Webkins for a while and then to papercrafts. We are still currently in papercrafts with Josh. For anyone who is not familiar with papercrafts they are patterns on paper that you print, cut out, and then tape together to create a 3 dimensional object. This interest started last summer and has continued through this year. Currently Josh has hundreds of these objects. He's even taken to creating his own when he can't find patterns for objects/characters he wants to create. The good thing for us is that they are much smaller then beanie babies so they all fit into a large reusable grocery bag that he carries with him to school every day and with us wherever we go. We can occasionally get him to just take a few papercrafts with him places but most of the time where Josh goes the bag goes.
I'm not sure how it got started but about a month or two ago Zach started noticing Josh's bag and began to carry his own. Here's were it's been interesting. Zach loves Baby Einstein DVDs, CDs, puppets, and books. So it started out with him carrying around a few books in a disposable grocery bag just like his brother. We thought it was cute that he wanted to be like his brother. What were we thinking? He quickly found that carrying around a bag of his things was something he favored and so he began to add to the bag. The reusable grocery bag has quickly grown to an extra large reusable grocery bag, and now to a small suitcase. I'm pretty sure we are going to be needing a large suitcase by next month and Zach continues to add his favorite things to this suitcase. He carries it around the house and will even take it to bed with him. I usually to in after he's asleep and move it from the top of his bed to the floor.
So, there are my kids comfort items. Kinda like the blankies of their toddler years but bigger. I wonder sometimes if I'm creating a monster or if I'm helping them to feel comforted. For now we are managing the load and working on limits, mostly because many times I carry these items after the kids get tired of lugging them around.
It made me think of what luggage I carry around. I carry extra weight which is not healthy but has been around so long I've gotten used to it. I carry extra items in the house that I really don't use but have never gotten around to going through because they have been there so long. If I really think about it there's a lot of luggage I carry around.
I think my heaviest luggage is the weight of responsibility I feel concerning decisions I make about the boys. It seems like every decision has so much riding on it from how to I discipline (or don't discipline) to which medications do we use for them. I know this is every parent's issue but I can't help but wonder if it's not a bit harder for parent's of children with special needs especially those that have so many different treatment approaches and no real understanding of what causes the issues. The bible says God's yoke is easy and his burden is light and to cast your cares up on Him. I think for me that is something I have to work on. I'm getting tired of carrying this luggage and I need a break. Does this mean that I'm going to not make any decisions and just "check out"? No. I think what it means is that I give myself permission to make the best decision I can and be ok with that. I give myself permission to relax and know that my kids love me, love others, and are learning to be good people and that's enough.
After Beanie babies Josh graduated to Webkins for a while and then to papercrafts. We are still currently in papercrafts with Josh. For anyone who is not familiar with papercrafts they are patterns on paper that you print, cut out, and then tape together to create a 3 dimensional object. This interest started last summer and has continued through this year. Currently Josh has hundreds of these objects. He's even taken to creating his own when he can't find patterns for objects/characters he wants to create. The good thing for us is that they are much smaller then beanie babies so they all fit into a large reusable grocery bag that he carries with him to school every day and with us wherever we go. We can occasionally get him to just take a few papercrafts with him places but most of the time where Josh goes the bag goes.
I'm not sure how it got started but about a month or two ago Zach started noticing Josh's bag and began to carry his own. Here's were it's been interesting. Zach loves Baby Einstein DVDs, CDs, puppets, and books. So it started out with him carrying around a few books in a disposable grocery bag just like his brother. We thought it was cute that he wanted to be like his brother. What were we thinking? He quickly found that carrying around a bag of his things was something he favored and so he began to add to the bag. The reusable grocery bag has quickly grown to an extra large reusable grocery bag, and now to a small suitcase. I'm pretty sure we are going to be needing a large suitcase by next month and Zach continues to add his favorite things to this suitcase. He carries it around the house and will even take it to bed with him. I usually to in after he's asleep and move it from the top of his bed to the floor.
So, there are my kids comfort items. Kinda like the blankies of their toddler years but bigger. I wonder sometimes if I'm creating a monster or if I'm helping them to feel comforted. For now we are managing the load and working on limits, mostly because many times I carry these items after the kids get tired of lugging them around.
It made me think of what luggage I carry around. I carry extra weight which is not healthy but has been around so long I've gotten used to it. I carry extra items in the house that I really don't use but have never gotten around to going through because they have been there so long. If I really think about it there's a lot of luggage I carry around.
I think my heaviest luggage is the weight of responsibility I feel concerning decisions I make about the boys. It seems like every decision has so much riding on it from how to I discipline (or don't discipline) to which medications do we use for them. I know this is every parent's issue but I can't help but wonder if it's not a bit harder for parent's of children with special needs especially those that have so many different treatment approaches and no real understanding of what causes the issues. The bible says God's yoke is easy and his burden is light and to cast your cares up on Him. I think for me that is something I have to work on. I'm getting tired of carrying this luggage and I need a break. Does this mean that I'm going to not make any decisions and just "check out"? No. I think what it means is that I give myself permission to make the best decision I can and be ok with that. I give myself permission to relax and know that my kids love me, love others, and are learning to be good people and that's enough.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
DNS takes on a whole new meaning
I've been away from the blog for a few days due to some internet issues. We were having DNS issues. The amazing thing is that I didn't even realize we had a DNS until suddenly it was giving us problems. Apparently AT&T is having issues and this was our week for them. Whoo Hoo.
What I was not ready for was J's reaction to this issue. Now, J loves to be on the computer. He loves to create video games, play video games that other people have created, and watch clips of some of his favorite shows. The first day or so of no internet he came up with different ideas of things he could do on the computer but by day three he began to hit the wall. There were just too many things he needed to get access to that required the internet. I kept discovering him trying to discover a way to fix the DNS issue. He tried shutting off the computer, then he tried opening another window in the browser. He tried various other ways to access the internet (ipad, laptop, cell phone) but they either didn't work or didn't do what he wanted them to do. It was all a lesson in futility. I finally sat him down and tried to explain what the DNS was and how it was not something that we had any control over. We just had to wait for AT&T to fix the problem and there was nothing we could do to make it work any faster. We had a moment when he discovered that we could get internet access from the church in our backyard and I had to stop him from trying to carry the desktop computer into the backyard.
Whew, things are finally back to normal and the internet is restored but it really got me thinking. There was not a single thing we could do about the fact that we had no internet. We couldn't pretend it was working, we couldn't make our own internet, we also couldn't fall apart. Life went on and we just had to make adjustments. I had to wait to post on my blog, J had to be patient, Brandon had to go to work to do internet related work, and we all had to just be patient and creative in finding ways to do things we were used to using the internet to do. I realized that this is pretty much what has happened to us since we got the boys diagnosis of Autism. We've could have pretended it wasn't autism and everything was normal but that would have been silly, we couldn't fix them since no one knows how to fix Autism, we could (and for a while did) fall apart but there wasn't much use in that. What we had to do was get creative and be patient and that has pretty much been every day since then.
So, why would a faithful God allow the internet to go down for several days when it's such a central part of our life? Well, it taught us that there are other ways to pass our time and allowed us to learn some creativity and flexibility.
What I was not ready for was J's reaction to this issue. Now, J loves to be on the computer. He loves to create video games, play video games that other people have created, and watch clips of some of his favorite shows. The first day or so of no internet he came up with different ideas of things he could do on the computer but by day three he began to hit the wall. There were just too many things he needed to get access to that required the internet. I kept discovering him trying to discover a way to fix the DNS issue. He tried shutting off the computer, then he tried opening another window in the browser. He tried various other ways to access the internet (ipad, laptop, cell phone) but they either didn't work or didn't do what he wanted them to do. It was all a lesson in futility. I finally sat him down and tried to explain what the DNS was and how it was not something that we had any control over. We just had to wait for AT&T to fix the problem and there was nothing we could do to make it work any faster. We had a moment when he discovered that we could get internet access from the church in our backyard and I had to stop him from trying to carry the desktop computer into the backyard.
Whew, things are finally back to normal and the internet is restored but it really got me thinking. There was not a single thing we could do about the fact that we had no internet. We couldn't pretend it was working, we couldn't make our own internet, we also couldn't fall apart. Life went on and we just had to make adjustments. I had to wait to post on my blog, J had to be patient, Brandon had to go to work to do internet related work, and we all had to just be patient and creative in finding ways to do things we were used to using the internet to do. I realized that this is pretty much what has happened to us since we got the boys diagnosis of Autism. We've could have pretended it wasn't autism and everything was normal but that would have been silly, we couldn't fix them since no one knows how to fix Autism, we could (and for a while did) fall apart but there wasn't much use in that. What we had to do was get creative and be patient and that has pretty much been every day since then.
So, why would a faithful God allow the internet to go down for several days when it's such a central part of our life? Well, it taught us that there are other ways to pass our time and allowed us to learn some creativity and flexibility.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Balloons in a Tree.
Today was Z's birthday party. His actual birthday was in February but it's taken us this long to get our act together and plan a birthday party for him. We decided to have jumping at a nearby trampoline place and then cake and ice cream at our place afterwards. We figured this would be a way to accommodate everyone. Z gets what he enjoys and we aren't up until all hours of the night right before church on Sunday.
Well, as usual things start to go bad the day before. I wasn't able to get as much done as I wanted to on Friday and found myself very behind Saturday morning. I still had to get decorations, take Z in for a vision and hearing screening for school, clean the house, set out the party decorations and put together party favors plus pick up the cupcakes by noon. I was off like a crazy person and picked up several things and did several errands, including getting 10 mylar balloons for Z and the other kids at the party. I raced back to the house to start getting the house cleaned up and putting the decorations up with only an hour and a half before the party started. Way too close for comfort and the tempers were starting to rise.
I immediately started putting up decorations keeping it simple since Z likes to pull things down but I did manage to keep J from panic as I blew up a package of balloons for the floor. Brandon and I had J doing several odd jobs around the house (taking clothes to his room, putting dirty clothes in the laundry room, etc) while we ran around doing the major sorting and straightening. Suddenly J starts to melt down. He's totally upset that we are working him to death and is telling us that we are going to begin to draw blood. Now, here's where my mother of the year award begins to tremble. Instead of realizing that he is obviously over stimulated and ready for a break and realizing that it is very hot in the house and everyone is getting a bit short tempered I launch into "teach the kid a lesson" mode and begin to explain to J how he is really not being overworked and I am not expecting more from him than any other parent would expect from their child when they are expecting company. After a minor meltdown and quite a few tears order is restored and we move on.
Just then I hear a yell from Brandon and he goes tearing out of the house. Z has taken all 10 of the balloons we got that morning for the party and has ran to the backyard. Brandon tries to catch him but before he can get to him they are all floating gracefully into the tree next to our house and are artfully snagged on the telephone wire attaching our home to the local telephone company. My heart sank. Z was so thrilled to see his balloons floating there above our backyard., Brandon, not so much. Brandon looked at me, "We are never getting those balloons again." My heart sank, one more normal, everyday thing that everyone else takes for granted taken away from us. My eyes welled up with tears and I mourned. It was silly, really, they were just balloons, but for me it was one more thing we could not do. Dang it!
As we came inside J began to get upset again, "We're such a stupid family," he said,"I'm going to run away." Great, I thought, just what we need, more drama. I chose to ignore him and said something dismissive about how much I would miss him if he ran away and that every family is stupid at times. I even gave examples. About this time I realized we were late picking up the cupcakes. I sent Brandon out to get them and quickly tried to finish up the last few things I had to get done, one of which was dressing Z. I asked J to run upstairs and bring down a shirt from a specific area of Z's bedroom for him to wear. I realize, looking back, that I was asking for trouble. We were all hot, tired, out of sorts, short tempered, and barking orders. When J came down he had two long sleeve shirts and a shirt of Brandon's. I was so frustrated. I asked him how he thought this was a good idea to go to a jumping place on a hot afternoon in long sleeves? I ran upstairs to get another, more appropriate shirt for Z as I heard J in the downstairs saying how we really were a stupid family and how he was the most stupid and how he was going to run away. At this point I was considering it myself.
After retrieving a shirt for Z I came downstairs one again and realized that J was gone. Seriously, that fast, he was gone. I immediately called Brandon and asked how far away he was, luckily he was only two blocks away. I told him J had run away and to be on the lookout. I then grabbed Z, got him dressed quickly and ran outside to look for J. As I rounded the front of the church we live next to I could hear J yelling but could not see him I continued to yell his name and after a while realized he was coming around the opposite corner to where I was with Brandon and our neighbor keeping a cautious distance. J was screaming how much he wanted to run away. I realized that Brandon had the situation mostly in control and that I needed to see if there was a way to give J an out so I took Z back inside and called my mother-in-law to explain why we were going to be late to the gathering we had invited everyone to. God bless her, she is a saint. She offered to handle everything at the jumping place while we handled J. I then grabbed three ice pops. When J gets so upset he gets over heated and over wrought. What I have found is that if I can offer coolness and a mom's hug after the storm has passed sometimes it helps.
When I got back to where he was when I left Brandon had him in a hold as he was still yelling, although not as loud. I came over and offered J a hug and an ice pop and as I thought, he accepted them both. We sat for a while while Brandon took care of the car he had left running around the corner and made sure Z was ok. We were able to get into the car and make it to the party only about 20 minutes late. By all appearances we looked calm and happy. Little did anyone know that I had manged to lose my mother of the year award as well as almost lose my son in the same day. Not to mention the balloons.
So, why would a faithful God allow all this to happen? Well I don't blame Him. In all honesty I really think I made some pretty poor choices. I left way too much to do the morning of a party and then projected the stress to get it done not only on my spouse but my children as well. If I had better time management things would not have been as chaotic. I also think that there were several times along the morning where I could have stopped and realized that J was melting down slowly, bit by bit, and I didn't clue into it until it was too late. I needed to make sure that he was ok before my floor was swept, not the other way around.
All in all it turned out ok. I learned something and we ended up having a nice time with family and Z had a good birthday party. I'm just really glad birthday's only come once a year.
Well, as usual things start to go bad the day before. I wasn't able to get as much done as I wanted to on Friday and found myself very behind Saturday morning. I still had to get decorations, take Z in for a vision and hearing screening for school, clean the house, set out the party decorations and put together party favors plus pick up the cupcakes by noon. I was off like a crazy person and picked up several things and did several errands, including getting 10 mylar balloons for Z and the other kids at the party. I raced back to the house to start getting the house cleaned up and putting the decorations up with only an hour and a half before the party started. Way too close for comfort and the tempers were starting to rise.
I immediately started putting up decorations keeping it simple since Z likes to pull things down but I did manage to keep J from panic as I blew up a package of balloons for the floor. Brandon and I had J doing several odd jobs around the house (taking clothes to his room, putting dirty clothes in the laundry room, etc) while we ran around doing the major sorting and straightening. Suddenly J starts to melt down. He's totally upset that we are working him to death and is telling us that we are going to begin to draw blood. Now, here's where my mother of the year award begins to tremble. Instead of realizing that he is obviously over stimulated and ready for a break and realizing that it is very hot in the house and everyone is getting a bit short tempered I launch into "teach the kid a lesson" mode and begin to explain to J how he is really not being overworked and I am not expecting more from him than any other parent would expect from their child when they are expecting company. After a minor meltdown and quite a few tears order is restored and we move on.
Just then I hear a yell from Brandon and he goes tearing out of the house. Z has taken all 10 of the balloons we got that morning for the party and has ran to the backyard. Brandon tries to catch him but before he can get to him they are all floating gracefully into the tree next to our house and are artfully snagged on the telephone wire attaching our home to the local telephone company. My heart sank. Z was so thrilled to see his balloons floating there above our backyard., Brandon, not so much. Brandon looked at me, "We are never getting those balloons again." My heart sank, one more normal, everyday thing that everyone else takes for granted taken away from us. My eyes welled up with tears and I mourned. It was silly, really, they were just balloons, but for me it was one more thing we could not do. Dang it!
As we came inside J began to get upset again, "We're such a stupid family," he said,"I'm going to run away." Great, I thought, just what we need, more drama. I chose to ignore him and said something dismissive about how much I would miss him if he ran away and that every family is stupid at times. I even gave examples. About this time I realized we were late picking up the cupcakes. I sent Brandon out to get them and quickly tried to finish up the last few things I had to get done, one of which was dressing Z. I asked J to run upstairs and bring down a shirt from a specific area of Z's bedroom for him to wear. I realize, looking back, that I was asking for trouble. We were all hot, tired, out of sorts, short tempered, and barking orders. When J came down he had two long sleeve shirts and a shirt of Brandon's. I was so frustrated. I asked him how he thought this was a good idea to go to a jumping place on a hot afternoon in long sleeves? I ran upstairs to get another, more appropriate shirt for Z as I heard J in the downstairs saying how we really were a stupid family and how he was the most stupid and how he was going to run away. At this point I was considering it myself.
After retrieving a shirt for Z I came downstairs one again and realized that J was gone. Seriously, that fast, he was gone. I immediately called Brandon and asked how far away he was, luckily he was only two blocks away. I told him J had run away and to be on the lookout. I then grabbed Z, got him dressed quickly and ran outside to look for J. As I rounded the front of the church we live next to I could hear J yelling but could not see him I continued to yell his name and after a while realized he was coming around the opposite corner to where I was with Brandon and our neighbor keeping a cautious distance. J was screaming how much he wanted to run away. I realized that Brandon had the situation mostly in control and that I needed to see if there was a way to give J an out so I took Z back inside and called my mother-in-law to explain why we were going to be late to the gathering we had invited everyone to. God bless her, she is a saint. She offered to handle everything at the jumping place while we handled J. I then grabbed three ice pops. When J gets so upset he gets over heated and over wrought. What I have found is that if I can offer coolness and a mom's hug after the storm has passed sometimes it helps.
When I got back to where he was when I left Brandon had him in a hold as he was still yelling, although not as loud. I came over and offered J a hug and an ice pop and as I thought, he accepted them both. We sat for a while while Brandon took care of the car he had left running around the corner and made sure Z was ok. We were able to get into the car and make it to the party only about 20 minutes late. By all appearances we looked calm and happy. Little did anyone know that I had manged to lose my mother of the year award as well as almost lose my son in the same day. Not to mention the balloons.
So, why would a faithful God allow all this to happen? Well I don't blame Him. In all honesty I really think I made some pretty poor choices. I left way too much to do the morning of a party and then projected the stress to get it done not only on my spouse but my children as well. If I had better time management things would not have been as chaotic. I also think that there were several times along the morning where I could have stopped and realized that J was melting down slowly, bit by bit, and I didn't clue into it until it was too late. I needed to make sure that he was ok before my floor was swept, not the other way around.
All in all it turned out ok. I learned something and we ended up having a nice time with family and Z had a good birthday party. I'm just really glad birthday's only come once a year.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Yes, that's my son in your sink.
So today I got word from the nurse at my younger son's school that he was pulling on his ear and saying "ow". For me this is a huge improvement as prior to about 18mo ago the only way I knew he was sick was when he spiked a fever. The kid would be running around climbing trees, playing in the backyard, eating normally and then suddenly I would discover he had a raging fever and have to quickly rush him to the doctor. This is what's fun about a child who is non-verbal. Remember those baby days when they couldn't tell you what was wrong but you knew they weren't feeling well. This is very similar except they weren't acting sick. I always felt like the mom of the year as I sat in the Dr's office and discovered that my son had not one, but TWO raging ear infections.
So today off we went to the Dr grateful that, for once, this had happened on Monday and not Friday afternoon. Z immediately began to wash his hands in the sink (ie play with water). I figured I had a good 5 minutes or so before I had to interest him in something else so I wouldn't look like I was wasting water. Just then the Dr came in, not our regular Dr but one of his associates who had an opening (poor guy) and caught us red (wet) handed. I quickly shut off the water and dried off Z's hands. The Dr spoke to me about how long and all those types of things while I tried to be a physical barrier between Z and the coveted sink. Just the the Dr said, "ok let's look at those ears". Boy that kid moves fast. Right to the opposite side of the room and huddled on the floor. Here's where I once again tried to go for the mother of year award and failed miserably. I thought in my head....ok, lets reason with him. "Z, would you like some McDonalds? First Dr then McDonalds." I felt like this would show the Dr that I was in control of my son and that I could use First/Then techniques to get amazing things accomplished, like looking in ears. Therein was my first mistake. The thought that I could reason with Z. He knew exactly where we were. Last time we were there he had an earache and they looked in his ear and then afterwards he got a shot. He was no dummy, there was not a chance he was going to let us see his ears with simple reasoning. So the little Turkey sat on that floor looked up at me and grinned. I knew right then and there I was in trouble. Where to go next. Brute force? I knew from past experience that brute force was definitely on his side as opposed to mine in spite of the fact that I am twice his size. Plus I wanted to make sure to not cause the Dr to entertain the idea of calling Child Protective Services.
So I looked helplessly at the Dr as asked if he wanted to call in reinforcements. He looked a bit taken aback but seemed to cover it quickly. I took hold of Z as hard as I could and wrapped my leg around his legs. My prayer was that on one (me) would end up with a bloody lip or concussion. The Dr, swooped in and quickly looked at the first ear and declared it clear, no infection. I knew we were only half way there so I shifted a bit and moved Z so the Dr would have access to his other ear. Once again he swooped in and declared the ear clear. At that moment I had two remarkably conflicting emotions. Relief that my sweet, gentle, baby boy was not in pain and unable to express it, and absolute frustration that we had gone through all of this trauma for nothing. Seriously, at that point I wanted a sucker and to go home. The Dr mumbled something about how unusual it was for children Z's age to have ear infections (now you mention it) and that it looks like he may have a stuffy nose so perhaps it's the beginning of a cold. So we grab our stuff, Z is out the door and half way down the hall by the time I'm through the room doorway he's so eager to get out of this place. We blessedly get through the checkout area quickly with only a half dozen dings of the bell they have sitting in the window to make them aware you are there and then head out the door.
As I reflected on this trip and spent a few minutes feeling sorry for myself that no one understands what I go through and how hard I have it and how frustrating this all was I began to think of this blog. Why would a faithful God? Why would a faithful God drag Z and I out for no reason whatsoever to make spectacles of ourselves and then look silly.
I thought for a moment and then began to think of the alternative. Would I have rather been told that there was a problem? What if I had been told that not only was there a problem with is ear but it looks like there's something else going on, let's order some more tests? What if those tests showed something very serious and life altering? I realized that I was put out that we had "wasted" a whole afternoon (90 minutes) for nothing more than a cold when there were parents all over the world that would have raced to trade places with me and only have gotten a "cold" diagnosis for their child. I realized that my faithful God protected us, once again, from more sadness and suffering than we could bear. I was so thankful for this cold and that I was able to take Z home (after a trip through the McDonald's drive-thru) and there was nothing more serious.
It doesn't always happen this way, but today, I am thankful that it did.
So today off we went to the Dr grateful that, for once, this had happened on Monday and not Friday afternoon. Z immediately began to wash his hands in the sink (ie play with water). I figured I had a good 5 minutes or so before I had to interest him in something else so I wouldn't look like I was wasting water. Just then the Dr came in, not our regular Dr but one of his associates who had an opening (poor guy) and caught us red (wet) handed. I quickly shut off the water and dried off Z's hands. The Dr spoke to me about how long and all those types of things while I tried to be a physical barrier between Z and the coveted sink. Just the the Dr said, "ok let's look at those ears". Boy that kid moves fast. Right to the opposite side of the room and huddled on the floor. Here's where I once again tried to go for the mother of year award and failed miserably. I thought in my head....ok, lets reason with him. "Z, would you like some McDonalds? First Dr then McDonalds." I felt like this would show the Dr that I was in control of my son and that I could use First/Then techniques to get amazing things accomplished, like looking in ears. Therein was my first mistake. The thought that I could reason with Z. He knew exactly where we were. Last time we were there he had an earache and they looked in his ear and then afterwards he got a shot. He was no dummy, there was not a chance he was going to let us see his ears with simple reasoning. So the little Turkey sat on that floor looked up at me and grinned. I knew right then and there I was in trouble. Where to go next. Brute force? I knew from past experience that brute force was definitely on his side as opposed to mine in spite of the fact that I am twice his size. Plus I wanted to make sure to not cause the Dr to entertain the idea of calling Child Protective Services.
So I looked helplessly at the Dr as asked if he wanted to call in reinforcements. He looked a bit taken aback but seemed to cover it quickly. I took hold of Z as hard as I could and wrapped my leg around his legs. My prayer was that on one (me) would end up with a bloody lip or concussion. The Dr, swooped in and quickly looked at the first ear and declared it clear, no infection. I knew we were only half way there so I shifted a bit and moved Z so the Dr would have access to his other ear. Once again he swooped in and declared the ear clear. At that moment I had two remarkably conflicting emotions. Relief that my sweet, gentle, baby boy was not in pain and unable to express it, and absolute frustration that we had gone through all of this trauma for nothing. Seriously, at that point I wanted a sucker and to go home. The Dr mumbled something about how unusual it was for children Z's age to have ear infections (now you mention it) and that it looks like he may have a stuffy nose so perhaps it's the beginning of a cold. So we grab our stuff, Z is out the door and half way down the hall by the time I'm through the room doorway he's so eager to get out of this place. We blessedly get through the checkout area quickly with only a half dozen dings of the bell they have sitting in the window to make them aware you are there and then head out the door.
As I reflected on this trip and spent a few minutes feeling sorry for myself that no one understands what I go through and how hard I have it and how frustrating this all was I began to think of this blog. Why would a faithful God? Why would a faithful God drag Z and I out for no reason whatsoever to make spectacles of ourselves and then look silly.
I thought for a moment and then began to think of the alternative. Would I have rather been told that there was a problem? What if I had been told that not only was there a problem with is ear but it looks like there's something else going on, let's order some more tests? What if those tests showed something very serious and life altering? I realized that I was put out that we had "wasted" a whole afternoon (90 minutes) for nothing more than a cold when there were parents all over the world that would have raced to trade places with me and only have gotten a "cold" diagnosis for their child. I realized that my faithful God protected us, once again, from more sadness and suffering than we could bear. I was so thankful for this cold and that I was able to take Z home (after a trip through the McDonald's drive-thru) and there was nothing more serious.
It doesn't always happen this way, but today, I am thankful that it did.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Why am I doing this?
As a pastor's wife and mom to two children with Autism I have heard so many people ask, "Why would a faithful...loving...caring...compassionate...God allow _________? For so many people this is a cry that is so deep. It's a cry from a broken bleeding heart of pain, sadness, anger, frustration, and helplessness. We want to know who's in charge and who's to blame so we can get them to make it right, much in the same way that we have the person who runs into the back of our car fix the damage they caused. The problem is that, in the case of our Loving Heavenly Father, He didn't cause anything. These things happen because we live in a fallen world. That is the reality. Is it a nice reality? NOPE. Not even remotely. As a matter of fact it's pretty darn depressing. Bad stuff happens. You can count on it. Some of it inconvenient some of it life altering. Sounds pretty hopeless. Here's where the hope comes from. Our Faithful, Loving, Caring, Compassionate, God knew we needed hope and he is the God of Hope. He gave us his Son to over come death and sin at the cross, giving us Eternal hope and Salvation from the hopelessness that is this world. Here's the kicker, we still have to live here on Earth, in a fallen and sinful world of sickness, death, disease, and disability, however, he has overcome this world. Our eyes are on Eternity. Our time here on Earth is but a moment compared to Eternity in Heaven with our Lord.
So what, you say. There are whole books written about this. All of them written by people way more well trained and spiritually mature than I am. Well, that is true but this blog is the beginning of a path for me. A path of looking at every day with my two children and my life as a whole and asking the question, "Why would a Faithful God allow______". I want to try to look at the things our family goes through daily through the eyes of a faithful, loving, and compassionate God and see why he would "allow" it to happen.
So what, you say. There are whole books written about this. All of them written by people way more well trained and spiritually mature than I am. Well, that is true but this blog is the beginning of a path for me. A path of looking at every day with my two children and my life as a whole and asking the question, "Why would a Faithful God allow______". I want to try to look at the things our family goes through daily through the eyes of a faithful, loving, and compassionate God and see why he would "allow" it to happen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)