December 30, 2010

It's New Year's Eve, do you know where your resolutions are?

Oh wow, I've been neglecting the blog haven't I? And it's really not because I have better things to do with my fabulous and blessed life :). Really it's because I am LAZY at times, okay for months at a time, when it comes to writing. We have been up to so much this past year, I'm gonna have to post some pictures soon.

So are you thinking about your New Year's resolutions? I haven't made any New Year's resolutions yet and I probably won't because then I for sure won't accomplish the things I need to accomplish in 2011. If I were making a list, it would look something like this:

1. Finish losing weight (Pfffffft! Yeah right, I'll just put the cake down for once...or not)
2. Blog every week, this is your legacy you know (Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!)
3. Be a better listener (Possibly if my tongue is removed)
4. Focus on others and less on yourself (But making everything about me is fun...)
5. Save more and spend less (Errr.....)
6. Cook more often and better (first I would have to acknowledge that corn dogs are not a well balanced or nutritious food)
7. Read literature that makes me a better person (Nope, Twilight and Harry Potter don't count, no matter how many times I read them)
8. Go to bed earlier (Yeah, this one is impossible)

As you can see, that list is already fraught with hurdles and I haven't even officially made it. I think it's best to keep things vague so that nearly any positive effort I make can be spun as me keeping my New Year's resolutions. So here we go, my official resolution:

I will try my very best, most of the time except on Mondays, to not screw up in any way that I am cognizant is an actual screw-up. If I do screw-up, such screw-up shall be acknowledged by making amends with myself, the other person, or thing I've wronged with a promise to try harder the next day.

So that's it, I'm not even adding any fine print. I'm locked in. Happy Resolution making to you and yours.

May 29, 2010

Courage Reigns

I've decided to enroll the young man in horse back riding lessons for kids with disabilities. There is a place near our house that works exclusively with kids who have to learn to navigate their own disabilities and function the best that they can despite their disabilities. They take all kinds over there; muscular dystrophy, cerebral palsy, brain damage, physical and mental ailments, and autism. I've read many times that the benefits of hippotherapy can be great for these kinds of kids. They learn a new skill, get to do something fun, build self-confidence, better posture, better balance, better gross and fine motor skills, and a whole host of other positive benefits too. So I gathered my courage and I gave the place a call. And the conversation went something like this:

Me: "Hi, I'd like to enquire about enrolling my son in horse back riding lessons with you guys".
Vicki: "Great, tell me about your son"
Me: "Well, he has been expressing a real interest in learning to ride horses and as he has problems with his coordination, I thought this might be a really good fit for him"
Me: (with nervous laughter) "He sort of trips over his own feet and we would like it if he could develop his gross motor skills more"
Vicki: "What is his particular disability?"
Me: "Autism"

And just like that, I dropped the "A" word. I dropped it casually, as if I were simply discussing a type of flower, or the weather. We discussed his condition like we were remarking on the sunny weather. And when I said the word, the dreaded "A" word, I waited for the sting. I waited for the pain that inevitably has come along with that word every.single.time I've said it or thought it since the diagnosis. The sense of injustice, of unfairness and self-pity that have attached themselves to that word as if they really belong there. And you know what? It didn't come. There was no pain, no sting, no self-pity. I felt no shame. Only pride. Pride in a child who is so special, who has come so far, and who I know will do great things with his life. I also felt excitement, almost giddy at the possibilities his young life holds and even those that will be afforded by his condition. There are indeed positive things associated with his autism. I'm starting to notice them. I was so excited for him to start horse back riding lessons and I didn't think once about if he could do it. I know he can do it.

There are so many "increased likelihoods" that attach themselves to a diagnosis of autism. There is an increased likelihood of depression, suicide, loneliness, etc. Just imagine a world where people are cruel to you or exclude you simply because they do not understand you and do not wish to try and you can fill in the blank with the mental conditions that can come along with that kind of rejection. So many of these "likelihoods" have been following me around, scaring me to death about his future, plunging me into my own depression and self-pity, and worst of all, making me feel helpless. It is only recently that I realized I actually have a choice.

I can choose to live in fear, or I can choose to live. I can choose to expect the worst, or I can choose to hope for the best. And you know what? He will be okay. His life will be good. I choose hope. I choose to live.

May 20, 2010

Lookee who's 3

Well, our "baby" is officially even less of a baby now that she has turned 3. She had a fantastic birthday party with a lot of family and friends. The best part wasn't even the multitude of presents she received (mostly from her Mimi), but the giant pink and purple princess bounce house we rented for the day! It was quite a hit not only with the partygoers but with all the neighborhood children as well :). The princess even got her own pink princess cake complete with an edible tiara and some disney princesses. My friend K made the cake and everything she does is by hand and just fabulous. It was also delicious and I ate far too much of it. Fun was had by all and I'm happy that I don't have to plan another party for the princess for a year :).

P.S. Someone arrived at my blog by googling the phrase " dr weidig the worst doctor hair transplant in the world "....isn't that great. It *almost* beats the time someone came here by googling "what is dog spit used for". Good times :).

March 26, 2010

Tucking in Young Man

Dearest Young Man,

Last night I went into your room to kiss you goodnight. You had been asleep for a few hours, but I was at your Aunt L's house and missed tucking you into bed. You were laying on your back, breathing with your mouth open and one arm flung over your blanket which was draped across your chest. Your hair was sweaty and I wondered why kids always get sweaty when they sleep, even with the covers off. I pulled your blankets up to your chin so you would stay warm and then I just looked at you. I looked at the masterpiece that God had sent to me. I wondered how He ever thought that I could deserve you. How could I get such a special kid that was going to need to be brought up with extra care? I am selfish, immature, and clueless so much of the time that when I look at you, along with all the love I feel is also a whole heap of inadequacy.

I can't even put into words the depth to which I love you. I think you are one of the most perfect beings to ever exist along with your dad and your sister. You are amazing in every way and every single day you find new ways to amaze me. It's unfortunate that I still feel like a little girl so much of the time because you deserve a Mom who really understands how to be a parent. You'd think by now I might have stopped flailing like a drowning person but here I am, still flailing away.

I know I get mad at you sometimes. I say things I shouldn't in moments of anger and sometimes I am just mean. I know I get so frustrated with you so often. It's not fair because it's not really you that I feel angry and frustrated at. I feel this toward your autism. Every single day I am angry at the whole world and even at God that you have to learn to live with autism and that I have to learn how to manage the special needs that you will have. Every single day I feel alone and like there is no one in my life that really understands what I'm feeling. So I lash out. At you and at your dad, and the world really when I withdraw myself from it. I want to stop crying. I want to stop feeling sad and just marvel at the goodness and intelligence that you possess. I know that I am blessed to have you. I am so blessed to have you.

I swear I wouldn't trade you for anything, not even a "normal" kid. You are mine. I see it in your smile, your obstinance, and even your eyes just a little, even though they are mostly your Dad's eyes. You are mine. Someday, when the veil has lifted, you will be able to tell me why you chose me to be your Mom. I can't wait to hear it. You are so dang smart that I know you are destined for really great things here and in this life. So please know that even though it's going to be harder for you to be a kid than many other children, and even though not everyone you encounter in your life will understand you or even be kind to you, that I am always going to be your mother. And my love may not be perfect, but it is immense. I think it could fill an ocean. I will always be proud of you. I will always support you even though I am a coward and it's really hard for me to confront other people who may need confronting. I could never stop loving you and I promise to celebrate your every accomplishment, even the little ones. You are my son, my child, and one of the greatest loves of my life.

January 24, 2010

Get Out Of My Dreams, and Into My Car

I'm thinking about dreams right now, and the 80's. This morning I was sleeping in a little bit because the princess has taken to sleeping late in the mornings. Young Man entertains himself pretty well for awhile after he first gets up, so I was enjoying a little extra snooze time after (stupidly) staying up until 2am researching car seat safety and watching countless youtube videos of "dummies" being flung around cars. Car seat safety isn't dumb, but staying up until 2am to further my knowledge wasn't the best decision. But anyway, so I was happily sleeping in my bed this morning at 9am when the pitter-patter of fast moving feet cut into my dream, the creak and then bang of a door as it was flung open and then the sound of an entire liter of urine being dispensed into the toilet in my bathroom brought me to the groggy realization that Young Man had a close call (I'm not sure why he always uses my bathroom rather than the one to his room, but he always does, even at 4am). Thankfully he made it in time. But prior to this emergency pee, I had been having an interesting dream.

I really hate spiders. Every time I see one, I get the chills and a very unpleasant sensation runs along my spine. I automatically and without thinking recoil from even small spiders and move several feet away...but that's not what I was dreaming about. I dreamt about Transformers, yep, Decepticons and Autobots. In my dream for some strange reason my small neighborhood was under attack by the Decepticons. Why? Well, I don't know. It was a dream. Anyway, all the men were drafted into the "army" with the Autobots (they're the good guys) and I was sad because I thought Husband would die for sure. He's not much of a fighter, more of a lover and rationalizer :). But he sure surprised me in my dream. Instead of dying he somehow transformed into a superhero of sorts with some pretty cool powers and saved our neighborhood from certain death by the Decepticons.

So that was my dream. And that got me to wondering...wondering exactly why I would be having a dream about Transformers anyway? And why would Husband have a starring role as the dream hero? I think one could go crazy trying to analyze dreams, so I stopped wondering. Although, I'm sure being the mother of a young boy had a little something to do with the appearance of Transformers in my dream world. Maybe just a little...:)
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