Monday, November 28, 2016

Four


It has been a long while since I blogged. Not because I don't have anything to say, but because I have too much to say.
But for your 4th birthday, I thought I would update you on the world in which you escaped. 
It's a scary world little girl. I am thankful for your safe heavenly cradle, but I still selfishly ache for my empty arms.

Your little brother is now 19 months. He is a bucket of energy and keeps us on our toes. As soon as he was born I felt complete as a birth mommy and decided I was content with a closed for business sign on my womb. But we still long to foster and/or adopt one day. We would like to start that process more formally after Teddy turns two. 

Your big brother is now 8. He is amazing and challenges me daily to be more patient and understanding. He struggles a lot with fears and obstacles that most of us take for granted. I still long for him to learn a ride a bike. I have to admit it embarrasses me he can't. But then I realize it doesn't embarrass him. He is confident in who he is and often tells people "I have Asperger's syndrome, so I am overwhelmed by this situation." Hiss vulnerability and insight is inspiring. I'm so proud of him.

You could say if Henry is my pride, then Amelie is my joy. Her 7 year old personality is infectious and fun. She lives in a dream world I wish I could escape with her to. She is also insanely creative and feels every thing around her as if it is happening to her personally. That sensitivity has caused some anxiety and she longs for you more than I can express. Because of this she has become obsessed with the animal we decorated your room with, elephants. She surrounds herself with them and every time she sees one on a picture or in real life she screams, "CLAUDIE!" as if it's the first time she has saw you.

Oh sweet little girl, how I miss you. They say time heals all wounds but this wound will never heal. It scabbed for a while and would often rip open and bleed in the first couple years. By year 3 it turned more into a bruise.While I still feel bruised at times especially when my wound bumps up against the insensitivity of others, the memory of you is mainly a scar now.  A scar that is a constant reminder of the little girl who fits so perfectly in our hearts but will never live in our home. 

I would rather be running around doing errands for your birthday, but I will settle for more Kisses for 
Claudie in your honor this year and hope you will continue to inspire others as you have me to be a better version of myself and perform random acts of kindness in your honor.

Love always and forever.
See ya soon,
Mommy

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

The Day I Told My Son He Has Asperger's

This weekend Henry was a having another "melt-down". This time it was because...hum honestly, I can't remember. It could have been because his legs itched or the smells were too pungent or his belly felt weird or he didn't like the way his shoe felt. Heck, it could have been the way the wind blew.
I really never know when Henry will be overwhelmed by seemingly tiny issues. In fact, they don't happen that often and some people who are very close to him have NEVER even seen a melt down once.

But this melt-down I saw something in Henry's eyes. He was searching. He knew it wasn't about the discomfort but something more.

I remember my first question for his therapist after finding out he most likely has it was do I tell him?
Her response, "Did your parents tell you had diabetes?"

I looked to my husband, "I am going to tell him!"
My husband said, "okay" maybe because he knew recognized the seriousness in my voice or maybe because he too realized Henry needed an answer finally to his question that he didn't even know he was asking. We had discussed telling Henry dozens of times before and every time Dustin's response was not yet. I think both knew it was time now.

I said Henry, "Stop! I need to talk to you."
Henry immediately stopped his shaking and whining and looked my direction although of course not in my eyes. I know better now then to ask him to do that. Looking in my eyes only makes he more distracted and overwhelmed.

"Henry, we think you might have something called Asperger's. It's not a bad thing. It's just something that makes you think differently. A lot of really cool people have it. [I am paraphrasing now because I can't remember what I said and frankly at this point I am wondering why in the heck I am doing this in a restaurant rather than a controlled environment without a thought-out game plan. Then I realize because there is NO such thing as a thought-out game plan when you tell your kid this and because Henry needs an answer now.]
...You are really cool Henry. You know more about Russia then most adults. You study baseball better than most professional players and you have a ton to offer the world. We all just need to learn how to access your brain better so we can see all your mind and heart has to offer!"

Silence.

Henry stares off into the distance. He says nothing.

Then a little squeaky voice of a six year old that I forget was listening chimes in, "I am kinda sad for Henry. But I am also really glad too because he is going to have a wonderful new life!" Tears are in her eyes.

Oh no, I canNOT see my kids cry. I start to well up with tears. This is when it is nice that Henry won't look in my eyes.

"Henry," I say, my voice cracking, "do you understand what I am trying to say, buddy?"

"Ya. I know."

"You know what?"

"I know I have it. Why else would I not like going down a slide or stickers or wasps when I love animals all the things that make me scared. I already knew."

"Well, now we can have a word for it and it can help us all help you be the best version of yourself!"

The squeaky voice again, "Do I have it, mom?"

"No, Amelie. But I want you to be the best version of yourself too!"

My anxiety lessened at that moment because I realized that is my job for ALL my children. It doesn't lessen that I might have to find more creative ways and work a little harder. And it WILL be harder. Like two days later on the 4th when he screamed bloody murder and shook during the fireworks but wouldn't go inside because he still wanted to watch them and wouldn't wear earplugs or doing anything that I suggested, so I just held him and whispered over and over and over, you will be okay, you will be okay, you will be okay. But the fact remains whether it's Henry's quirks or Amelie's spunk or Teddy's tenacity my job as their parent is to make them the best versions of themselves and frankly they do a pretty good job of making me be the best version of myself.




The Day I Told My Son He Has Asperger's

This weekend Henry was a having another "melt-down". This time it was because...hum honestly, I can't remember. It could have been because his legs itched or the smells were to pungent or his belly felt weird or he didn't like the way his shoe felt. Heck, it could have been the way the wind blew.
I really never know when Henry will be overwhelmed by seemingly tiny issues. In fact, they don't happen that often and some people who are very close to him have NEVER even seen a melt down once.

But this melt-down I saw something in Henry's eyes. He was searching. He knew it wasn't about the discomfort but something more.

I remember my first question for his therapist after finding out he most likely has it was do I tell him?
Her response, "Did your parents tell you that you had diabetes?"

I looked to my husband, "I am going to tell him!"
My husband said, "okay" maybe because he knew recognized the seriousness in my voice or maybe because he too realized Henry needed an answer finally to his question that he didn't even know he was asking. We had discussed telling Henry dozens of times before and every time Dustin's response was not yet. I think both knew it was time now.

I said Henry, "Stop! I need to talk to you."
Henry immediately stopped his shaking and whining and looked my direction although of course not in my eyes. I know better now then to ask him to do that. Looking in my eyes only makes he more distracted and overwhelmed.

"Henry, we think you might have something called Asperger's. It's not a bad thing. It's just something that makes you think differently. A lot of really cool people have it. [I am paraphrasing now because I can't remember what I said and frankly at this point I am wondering why in the heck I am doing this in a restaurant rather than a controlled environment without a thought-out game plan. Then I realize because there is NO such thing as a thought-out game plan when you tell your kid this and because Henry needs an answer now.]
...You are really cool Henry. You know more about Russia then most adults. You study baseball better than most professional players and you have a ton to offer the world. We all just need to learn how to access your brain better so we can see all your mind and heart has to offer!"

Silence.

Henry stares off into the distance. He says nothing.

Then a little squeaky voice of a six year old that I forget was listening chimes in, "I am kinda sad for Henry. But I am also really glad too because he is going to have a wonderful new life!" Tears are in her eyes.

Oh no, I canNOT see my kids cry. I start to well up with tears. This is when it is nice that Henry won't look in my eyes.

"Henry," I say, my voice cracking, "do you understand what I am trying to say, buddy?"

"Ya. I know."

"You know what?"

"I know I have it. Why else would I not like going down a slide or stickers or wasps when I love animals all the things that make me scared. I already knew."

"Well, now we can have a word for it and it can help us all help you be the best version of yourself!"

The squeaky voice again, "Do I have it, mom?"

"No, Amelie. But I want you to be the best version of yourself too!"

My anxiety lessened at that moment because I realized that is my job for ALL my children. It doesn't lessen that I might have to find more creative ways and work a little harder. And it WILL be harder. Like two days later on the 4th when he screamed bloody murder and shook during the fireworks but wouldn't go inside because he still wanted to watch them and wouldn't wear earplugs or doing anything that I suggested, so I just held him and whispered over and over and over, you will be okay, you will be okay, you will be okay. But the fact remains whether it's Henry's quirks or Amelie's spunk or Teddy's tenacity my job as their parent is to make them the best versions of themselves and frankly they do a pretty good job of making me be the best version of myself.




July 6, 2016

It has been a while.  A long while since I updated the blog. I am sure you all are crazy-bored without its banter and insight in your lives.
...no?!
Okay, well then I will just updated for the benefit of my own boredom.

We are deep into the throws of summer about now. Over 1/2 way through 2016 already.
July 4th was this weekend and it is always a pleasant reminder that while the world spins round and round nothing changes really.  There is a sense of unity in that we all still love to eat ice cream and blow things up in celebration.

Yes, this year has been perhaps the embarrassing for us as a nation, but I have a feeling the present will pale in comparison to the years to come. But I am not going to get into that today. I don't have it in me. Not today.

Today, I am just feeling tired and insufficient. So I am going to hang on to hope with a death-grip because I have witnessed firsthand that it doesn't matter how much darkness surrounds you, God is bright enough to be a light you when you can't see. But I also know God uses us to be that light while we are this earth, so tomorrow...tomorrow I will search to fix the injustice's of the world.


Monday, February 29, 2016

Dear Claudie

Dear Claudie,
I'm sorry. You didn't deserve what happened to you
You were young and fragile. You were supposed to be protected in my womb, but my body portrayed me and you paid the price.
My job was to protect you and I couldn't. Or didn't. I am not sure anymore.
Where are you now?
Who are you now?
Do you think of me as much as I think of you?
I will see  you soon. Until then keep inspiring me to be the best version of a mommy I can be.
Love,
Mommy