Square Pegs

Square pegs...the short lived Sarah Jessica Parker TV show or people who don't fit in?  Usually my first thought when I hear the term is SJP.  I loved that show.  I spent my high school years in the middle.  I wasn't super popular nor was I tortured for not fitting in.  I just kind of floated along. It was a great experience.  To tell the truth, when I look back on my time in school, I don't remember being too worried about fitting in.  I can remember REALLY wanting a Swatch watch and Guess jeans but I don't recall feeling like I had to work overtime to try to fit in.  I was pretty comfortable with who I was, as I recall.

That's what I want for my boys. I want them to be comfortable with who they are. I want them to feel secure in the fact that GOD created them on purpose, for a purpose and in his own image.  

Yesterday, two sweet friends posted an article on Facebook titled, 5 ways to damage autistic children without even knowing.  It's well written by a former teacher who has Asperger's. In the article, the author recognizes that all children can be damaged in these same ways but it is especially prevalent for autistic kiddos.   

I think B first became aware of the word autism when we went to Universal Studios a few years ago.  While inside the park, we used a disability pass to avoid waiting in long lines and to get him a stroller.  Both things helped him enjoy the park more and we were grateful for the accommodation.  Two mornings of our trip we had early morning breakfasts in The Wizarding World of Harry Potter.  Both mornings, B struggled.  I would hold him and try to sooth him as we stood in line for breakfast. Both mornings people would comment.  Both mornings my momma got mad.  She wanted people to stay out of our business.  I didn't mind telling people that B was autistic and a little overwhelmed.  I have never wanted to hide his autism from him or others. I want to help people understand him better.

During the trip, we were walking to dinner when B asked "What is autism?"  My eyes grew wide and Ryan and I exchanged a look.  We weren't really prepared for this. We hadn't discussed what we would say.  After a minute of thinking, I told B "Autism just means that your brain works differently.  It's not the same as other people's brains." 

You can image my heartbreak when B then asked me, "Is autism bad?" I immediately told him "NO! Autism makes you awesome!"  We want B to be comfortable with who he is.  Autism is a part of who he is.  It's not all of him but it's an important part.  

Autism can make B seems like a square peg trying to fit into a round hole.  

Right now, it's my job to guard against B being damaged by other people trying to fit him into a round hole. That's every parent's job, really, to protect their kiddos.  It's also my job to teach him to protect himself.  Yes, he will need to learn to advocate for himself.  

I am not saying that anyone is currently trying to damage my square peg.  But I am on my guard, on the lookout.  No one is going to damage my peg, if I can help it!

Scared

My oldest son Sam, recently turned 16. We were able to get him a nice used truck.  He's very excited about it.  

I am scared to death.  

It's a good truck.  He's a good driver, he's completed driver's education and the practice driving  He received a backup camera as a combo birthday and Christmas gift from some sweet and generous family members.  Logically, everything is good to go.  

My stomach knows no such logic.  

Christmas night he drove us to and from my in laws.  He did a great job.  As he was pulling into the neighborhood, I realized that in a week or so he'd be able to drive without Ryan or I in the car.  I almost had a full on panic attack.  

It will be ok, I reasoned.  I'll only let him drive to school and back for the first few months.  That'll work.  Oh, what about church? No problem, he can drive to school and church only.  But what if he wants to go to Chick Fil A after church?  Maybe the one up by the mall, that might be alright if there's not a lot of traffic.  But the one in Forney, NO WAY! He'd have to get on the highway - AT NIGHT!! 

You get the idea, my crazy was spiraling out of control.  

How will he do if Ryan and I aren't there to remind him?  How long before I get that faithful phone call, "Momma, I've had a wreck"?  My mind went wild with assorted crash craziness. This was not a passing thing.  I brought it inside and played with it for a while.  I was edge and cranky.  

Then I remembered something my pastor Randy Wade says, "If you can control everything why do you need GOD?"  If I can care for Sam and protect him all on my own, why does he need a Heavenly Father?  

How does that work, exactly?  How do I stop being in control? I how do I trust GOD to care for my boys?  

Most of us have heard 1 Peter 5:7 - "Cast all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you."

Wouldn't it be nice if that was a one time thing? I was anxious about Sam driving a few nights ago, I prayed about it and now it's all good.  That's not how it works.  Right this minute, I'm taking deep breaths because just writing about all this has stirred my anxiety.  It's a minute to minute thing.  Praying as soon as the knots start forming in my stomach.  Preemptive prayer.

That's how GOD works. He's a jealous GOD. He doesn't want a one and done relationship with us.  He was a minute by minute reliance.  Maybe He's using Sam driving to pull me closer to him.  To teach me to rely on him minute by minute.  I'll try to be a quick study.  

Music

Music and sports are in the same category for me: love it but can't do it.  I'd say music ranks a little higher than sports.  I don't know how much I'd miss sports if I never went to another game but if I never listened to music again, I'd be miserable.

My current musical obsession is the Hamilton soundtrack.  The songs are so varied.  I just keep thinking, "One man wrote all these songs."  I love how the songs all come together to tell Alexander Hamilton's story but can also stand on their own.

I have never been a fan of silence.  When I'm working, I usually can not have silence. I need music or a podcast playing.  It's like one part of my brain needs to be engaged with the sound so another part of my brain can create. But when silence is required, my mind supplies the music.  I'd rather it supply a praise song than the Schuyler sisters singing "Work. Work. I'm looking for a mind to work, work".

The trouble with my love for music is that it sticks in my head and crowds out other thoughts.  Especially during my prayer time.  This morning I was trying to concentrate and pray.  But "My name is Alexander Hamilton.  Just you wait. Just you wait." was playing over and over in my head.

I was really frustrated. This was my special time with the LORD and Alexander Hamilton was screwing it up.  But I'm the one who put Alexander in there.  I'm the one listening to the soundtrack on repeat.

In computing there's a saying "Garbage In. Garbage Out." It means if your code is garbage, your program will be garbage.  Your code has to be good for your program to be good.

It's the same with what we but in our mind.  If we want to think good thoughts, we have to put good stuff in.  For me this means I need a steady diet of praise music.  When I infuse praise music into my day, that's what my mind wanders to, instead of Alexander.

Too Old?

"Hi! I'm Aimee!"

"You were my computer teacher.  And my dance teacher."

I just laid my head down on the counter.  It had been at least 10 years since I was anybody's dance teacher.  So, I knew I was in for it.

This was the wife of a colleague at church.  I had heard lots of great things about her and I was looking forward to meeting her.  I never, in my life would have suspected that she was a former student of mine.

We talked and I remembered her as a middle school girl.  No one should have to be remembered as only a middle school girl.  Being a middle school girl is hard work, y'all! We should all have the opportunity to at least be remembered as a high school girl.  But I hadn't seen her after she left middle school so she stayed a middle school girl in my mind.  And now she stood before me as a beautiful young lady.

Good gracious, I felt old.  As I lay my head on the counter, I prayed.  "LORD, what are you doing?  I'm too old for this.  I'm too old to start over."

I looked up at one of our children's ministers who had witnessed the whole exchange.  "I am so old.  What is GOD doing having me start over at 42?" Kyle just smiled.

But it did get me thinking...am I too old to begin in ministry?  The answer is, of course, no. You're never too old to do what GOD has called you to do.  Remember last week and Moses' next 40 years?  Everything I've done has led to this moment. GOD has needed me to learn some lessons, gain so experience to prepare me for what He has in store.

Yesterday afternoon I was making dinner and listening to podcasts.  One of my favorite podcasts is the Carey Nieuwhof Leadership Podcast.  Carey is a pastor in Canada and I always learn a lot from his podcast.  (You can read about an embarrassing encounter with Carey at Orange here.)Yesterday's was an interview with Todd Wilson about calling.

The LORD is go good! This was just what I needed to hear! Wilson talked about finding your 'sweet spot'.  To find your sweet spot you need to think about: Be, Do and Go

Be - who has GOD made me to be?  If you look back you'll see a theme throughout your life of who GOD has made you to be.  For me, GOD has made me to be a teacher.  Every job I've ever had included some element of teaching.  Even now as I step into ministry, I am still teaching. Teaching through my writing, teaching special needs kids about Jesus, teaching volunteers...

Do - what does GOD want me to do with who I am?  For the past 15 years, GOD has wanted me in public schools.  First I taught kids and now I mostly teach adults.  GOD is changing my 'do', who I teach, but I'm still a teacher at heart.

Go - where should I use my 'be' and 'do' to GOD's glory?  GOD and I are still working this one out.

On the podcast, Wilson says that college graduates usually worry most about the 'go' without thinking about the 'be' and the 'do'.  Then when that 'go' isn't the right fit, they think they must find a new job but they still haven't addressed the 'be' or the 'do'.  It was fascinating stuff, I highly recommend you listen to the podcast.

I feel very confident in who GOD has made me to be and what He wants me to be doing.  I pray about the go part often.  My prayer for you is that you discover who GOD wants you to be and that you do what He has called you to do. I have a feeling the go will take care of itself.  For you and me.

Preparation

Have you ever hosted a party with no preparation?  Or maybe you've taken a test without studying?  Tried a new recipe without reading it all the way through first?

I've done all these things, with disastrous results. As a matter of fact, I've done this to B two times this school year alone.  Two weeks we've not studied his spelling words before a spelling test. This is the first year he's had spelling tests so I wasn't in the groove yet.  One week it was so bad his sweet teacher didn't give him any grade at all.  #mommafail

I have been in a season of waiting and preparation for a while now.  God has given me a dream and a calling and I want to get this party started.  But he is holding me in place.  I know what I want to do but my circumstances don't allow it.  I'll be honest, it's frustrating.  It's disheartening at times.

It's so hard not to question God in these seasons of preparation.  I question my calling, "Are you sure this is what I'm supposed to do, LORD? If it is, why can't I do it yet?  Why isn't everything falling into place."

My brain knows I need to prepare for success but my heart wants to charge forward.

Two verses help me wait patiently during this season of preparation.

"Commit your work to the Lord, and your plans will be established. The Lord has made everything for its purpose" Proverbs 16:3-4

"For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it?" Luke 14:28

So, today I will commit my work to the LORD.  I will do what he needs me to do to prepare for the next adventure He has waiting for me.  I will try to listen for his promptings so that I am not charging forward without Him.  Some days it's so hard to wait, boring to prepare, I want to get going.  But I know that His plan is always better than mine.  

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Your Words Matter

OVER. IT. This is how I was feeling about high school and my high schooler last week.  I love him to death but seriously, I was over it.  And I was sure that I was the only bad momma feeling this way. Until Friday night.

Actually, let me back up to Thursday night.  We are at the boys' football games, away games.  The JV cheerleaders arrive and are getting ready for the game.  Two of the cheerleaders walk through the stands.  B stops them and starts taking pictures of one of the girls.  I know this young lady is a friend of Sam's but B has never met her.  She graciously smiles and poses for his photos.  He uses her photo in his app obsession o' the day - Disney Side.  Thankfully he made her into Snow White and not Jafar or Captain Jack Sparrow (which he did to other adults through out the night).  She smiles and giggles some nervous laughter and goes on about her way.

I was so touched by her kindness to B.  It's not that the kindness was out of character for her, she's a wonderful young lady.  It's just, who wants to be stopped by 8 year old paparazzi when you're trying to get ready to cheer?

Back to Friday night, it was Homecoming and I was having a blast handing out pom poms for our church.  The young lady's parents come by.  I stop them and tell them about the photos and how sweet their daughter was to B. The mom breaks out into a huge smile "Thank you! This is such a God thing because we were just talking about how awful she is!"  Her dad said, "We wondered if she was as mean to everyone else as she is to us!"  We laughed about the struggles of freshmen.  I told them how over Sambo I am.  They were shocked, "He's so sweet, just a big teddy bear!"

After our conversation ended and they went into the stadium I was left with this realization: Everybody is struggling.

We are all so busy staring in our own dramatic movie of our life that we forget that other people are staring in theirs as well.

Your words matter to someone who is struggling.  Your words can offer hope.  But we don't always know who needs our words.  You can't always tell when someone is desperately clinging to the last little bit of their rope.

You never know the hope your encouraging comment will give to someone else.  It was a little out of my comfort zone to talk to this mom.  We aren't super close. But I wanted her to know how much I appreciated her daughter's kindness.  And it turns out that she needed to hear my words as much as I needed to say them.

The flip side of speaking encouraging words is receiving them.  For me, this is much harder. I have been known to reply "I'm glad someone does" to people who tell me they love my boys.  I tend to blow off a nice comment, "oh they were just saying that."  Of course they were saying that, they meant to say that! Try to receive comments with the same spirit you offer them.

Today, step out of your comfort zone.  Give an encouraging word to someone, maybe even someone you don't normally talk to you.  Allow God to use you and your words today.

My Next 40 Years

I turned 42 this summer.  I have a great family, awesome jobs and amazing friends.  But I still end up wondering, "is this really what God wants me to be doing right now? " Some days I feel like I'm on the cusp of something, being prepared for a grand adventure into what God really wants me to do with my life.  Then I'll remember that I'm 42.  I'll think "Shouldn't I be grown up by now?  Shouldn't I be doing whatever it is God wants me to do with my life by now?  Have I failed?"

I love the Old Testament.  It is filled with stories of people screwing up God's promises and God redeeming them anyway.  Of course there is a lot of God punishing people for their screw ups but still, there's redemption.  Don't get me wrong, I love, Love, LOVE Jesus.  I'm so thankful he came to replace the law that the Old Testament folks couldn't keep.  I am so thankful that my salvation is based on Jesus' sacrifice and grace and not on my ability to keep the law.  I would fail so miserably at keeping the law.  Oh, I'd work super hard at it but then someone would make me mad and I'd be in trouble all over again.

Yesterday I started reading Exodus.  Exodus 1 details Pharaoh's plan to kill all the male babies born to the Israelites.  But God used the midwives to save the babies.  Then in Exodus 2 we read about  how Moses' sister and mother saved him.   And not only did they save him, he ended up as Pharaoh's grandson.  I love God's ways, he has such an awesome sense of humor.

What caught my eye and attention this morning were the headings in Exodus 2.  The first heading says Moses' first forty years.  Under that heading is the story of how Moses' was saved as a baby.  The next heading is Moses' second forty years.  Under that heading is the story of Moses killing an Egyptian who was beating a Hebrew, hiding the body and then running away from Pharaoh who wanted to kill him.  Not a very mature leader.

Wow! When Moses was in his 40s God was still preparing him for what was to come.  Is it possible that God is still preparing me for what He has in store for me?  LORD, I hope so! I understand that people in the Old Testament lived much longer than we do today.  I'm not a Bible scholar so I don't know if they really lived so much longer or if they had shorter years or what.  I'm not really concerned with that.

My point is that God provides hope in the strangest of places.  This morning it was through 2 headings in the Bibles.  Headings that were probably added by men many years after Exodus was written.  But still God used those headings to give me hope.  To speak to me and reassure that the best is yet to come.  To let me know that He is always in control.  He is preparing a way for me.  He is preparing me for the way.  God has big things planned for my next 40 years.  I can't wait.

Out of My Depth

What do you do when you're out of your depth?  I mean seriously in over your head?

Being a technology teacher, I'm frequently out of my depth with new technologies.  For example, I took on video announcements this year.  Our school had never done them.  I was comfy with Google Hang Outs on Air.  Then Google discontinued them and the new solution was very complicated.  No problem, I took to YouTube and figured most of it out.  I do have one lingering problem but I'm working on it.

With the older boys, I have plenty of friends who have boys their ages and older.  I have my mom and sister to get advice from as well.  I can send a text or make a phone call and get good solid advice in a matter of minutes.

But, as usual, B man is a different story.  I have a few friends who have autistic kids but every autistic kid is so different so that's hard.  The past few weeks I've become convinced that I will VERY quickly be out of my depth with B man.

Sunday morning he asked Sam, "Sam do you know the 3 types of irony?" Then proceeded to teach us the three types of irony.   Of course, I learned something.  B loves to watch TED-Ed.  That's where he learned about irony and figurative language.  He apparently also learned about Ghandi.  On the way to Michael's (to get resin because every 8 year old needs resin) Saturday I was listening to a podcast in the car, I think it was Science vs. Zika (yes, I'm that nerdy).  When it was over, he said "Can we listen to one about Ghandi?"  I asked him what he knew about Ghandi.  "He was brown and he was a peacemaker. He lived in India."

Blown. A. Way.

I searched iTunes for a podcast about Ghandi.  As we listened to it, I wondered...how long before he asks me about something I know nothing about? Perhaps tomorrow.  But definitely by the end of next week.

What does he know? What's inside that brain? How smart is he?  We have no idea.  He has not been able to handle any testing situation he's ever been in.  His original testing at Children's.  His 3 year re-evaluation.  I think he actually hit one of the ladies testing him then.  Occupational Therapy evaluation last week - he ran out of the office, out of the building and into the parking lot.

It's hard to know when he'll out run us.  I have no idea what we'll do when we get there.  But I know the One who knows.  All I can do is keep praying.  Keep asking the LORD to steer me in the right direction.  Keep praying for wisdom to be the best momma for all three of my boys.  Keep listening to the people he brings me.

Freedom

I used to think rules were freeing.  Tell me what you want me to do, stand back and let me exceed your expectations. I operated this way for a majority of my life and things were just fine, thank you very much!

I realized the constraints of rules when I had to start making the rules.  It was a gradual realization, with the older boys, I was still pretty happy with the role of rules in my life.  Rules in my classroom were totally necessary.  Things began to change when I took some leadership roles.

Good gravy, people want to nitpick rules.  You have to get more and more specific.  I would drive myself crazy trying to think of all possible scenarios and make a rule for each scenario. And still people would nitpick.

An excellent example of this middle school girls and dress code.  Shorts have to be fingertip length long.  Fingertip length is determined by putting your hands down by your side.  I've seen girls shrug their shoulders up to their ears to make fingertip length shorter.  I've seen girls pull shorts way down on their hips to meet the length.

B-man also changed my view of rules.  He's so literal.  Last week at occupational therapy the secretary had a flower pot on her desk to hold pens.  The flower pot had smooth stones in the bottom.  B asked if he could have a stone. She said "Yes, if it's ok with your mom."  I told him the rock had to stay in his hand.  He looked up at me with big eyes "Forever?" "No not forever, just while you're inside this office.  You can't throw it."  "Can I throw it when I get outside?"  "No, not in the parking lot."  We proceeded to list all the places you can not throw a rock and where he could throw it.

Monday morning I read Galatians 5.  The chapter starts with a familiar verse "For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery."  The yoke of slavery Paul is referring to here is the Old Testament law.  Some Jewish people who had come to believe in Jesus wanted to cling to the Old Testament law and they wanted to hold the non-Jewish believers, Gentiles, to those same standards.  They wanted both Jesus and the law.  But Jesus had come to complete the law and give us freedom from it.  We are saved by grace, we don't have to keep a strict set of rules.

As I read on in Galatians 5, verses  13-15 really stood out.  Paul tells us here how to use our freedom.  Think back to the first time you took the car out without your parents.  What a sense of freedom that was!  All I was thinking about what myself.  I was NOT thinking about using my freedom to serve others.  In verse 14 Paul reiterates the point of Jesus' live, death and resurrection: the law is now fulfilled and we should love our neighbor as ourselves.

But it was verse 15 that really stood out to me and drove home the consequences of finding freedom in rules.  Rules cause us to nitpick and argue.  Paul is warning us here that we will be consumed by this behavior.  I'm not down for that! I don't want to be consumed by ugliness. I want to walk in freedom and love.  LORD, today, show me how.

Bulletproof

I woke up at midnight last night (when you go to bed at 9:30 that is the middle of the night) hungry for apples and peanut butter and singing a song.  "Give thanks with a grateful heart. Give thanks to the Holy One. Give thanks because He's given Jesus Christ, his Son."  As I ate my snack, I reflected on all the things I have to be thankful for.

• A God who loves me 
• A God who is accessible to me
• A husband who loves me and our boys 
• A husband who works hard
• My boys
• Their, sometimes, gentle spirit and tender hearts
• Their silly ways
• The rest of our family
• The ability to create and share my creations with others

I could go on and on.  I have so much to be thankful for! I was so grateful that God had woken me up to remind me of all my blessings.

Last night on Speechless (the best show I've seen in a looooonnnngggg time), the dad told the middle son that he was bulletproof.  He explained that after being told his first son was disabled and would not be able to do certain things, nothing else could phase him.  I loved that thought.

I am bulletproof because of Jesus Christ.  Because he sacrificed himself, willingly gave himself up for my sins, I am bulletproof.  I will have trials in this world, the Bible makes this clear, but nothing can touch me.  I am a child of God.

But the real question is...do I live like I'm bulletproof?  Do I live like I am thankful for everything God has give me?  The answer is sometimes.  Sometimes life gets me down and I flounder around not knowing what to do.  Other times when my heart breaks, I run straight to God and pour it out to Him and accept his grace and healing.

Today I will remember that I am bulletproof. Today I will be thankful to the One who made me bulletproof.

Let It Be

Before I get started let me just say that I hope you each have a friend as great as my sister in law.  She's so freaking awesome!  We've put in the work to get to where we are but it's been so worth it.  We are pretty different.  She's blonde, I'm brunette.  Just kidding...but we are pretty different.  I'm a total geek and she's totally cool.  She's very beautiful and fashionable.  I'm cute and like to wear jeans and funny t-shirts.  Our kids are stair stepped. The oldest boys are 6 weeks apart, the middle boys are 3 weeks apart and the youngest are a year apart.  I was 'done' having babies until I held my sweet niece.  A year later, I'm the mother of three boys.

We work through most of life's junk together.  We are honest with each other.  We can say, "No don't do that." and "Yes, you are right on"  If you don't have a friend like this, I totally recommend putting in the work to develop one.  It takes work.  We've hurt each other's feelings.  We've apologized.  We love each other.  We get each other.

Yesterday we were working through some junk.  Basically, I was making sure I wasn't crazy.  This is an everyday occurrence as I am sure I'm two steps away from crazy at any given minute.

I came to this realization...people need to live and let live.  Seriously, can you image what would happen if we stayed out of other people's business?  The drama in this life would go down to almost nil. I think you'd still have some because you're always going to have miscommunications.  But even those would be between the two people involved.  Everyone else would stay out of it.

Could you imagine?  People only worrying about themselves?  What could we accomplish with all the time we've freed up?  Cure cancer? In all seriousness, life would be so much easier.  For my part, I'd be less stressed.  I probably feel less crazy.

During my conversation with my sister in law, I also came up with this handy definition of friendship: Listen to my stories, laugh where appropriate, don't judge me and only offer advice when asked.  

And I promise I'll try to do the same.  And I promise I'll tell you when I'm hurt and forgive you when you hurt me.  And then we're good.

Why is this so hard for people?  I have no idea.  What I do know is this: I have a great friend in my sister in law.  I am so thankful for her.

All Behavior is Communication

This is a tough lesson to learn.  With my two older boys I usually sought to first correct their behavior.  I didn't try to figure out what they were trying to tell me by their behavior.  Then our Bman entered the scene.   

B did not speak until he was 3.  He didn't have many gestures to try to get get our attention or point us in the right direction.  And he refused to learn sign language.  I wish I had videoed some of those speech therapy sessions when the therapist tried to teach him.  He straight up wanted nothing to do with her or her hands.

Because he couldn't speak, I had to learn to search his behavior.  Sometimes it was easy.  We'd be driving down the road and a bottle would fly into the front seat.  He was finished drinking.  Or I'd get hit by the bottle and he'd start crying - he wanted more.

At times this was nerve wracking.  Alright, I'll be honest 90% of the time this was nerve wracking.  I used to carry this large blue backpack full of stuff that might make B happy.  I'd also pack extra stuff for other kids to play with so they wouldn't touch whatever was B's favorite thing at that moment.

I can remember being at one of Sam's football games, not able to sit with B in the stands.  He was too disruptive, he would bother people trying to watch the game.  So we found a spot by the fence where I could see part of the game, if I was able to take my eyes off B.  I dumped out the bag.  This day he wanted Mr. Potato Head.  Awesome, I had a huge MPH set in the magic bag.  Some little boys come over and they want to play with some cars B had.  Awesome, he wasn't interested in those.  The boys sat down and started playing with the cars.

B is usually pretty good with parallel play (this is a fancy term in the autism world that just means he plays with something while sitting by a kid playing something else. They don't play together.). This day, he's not having it. He wants MPH and the cars.  But he doesn't want to play with the cars. He just doesn't want the other kids to have them.  I tell him we have to share.  He's still not having it.  Screaming starts.  I give the boys the cars and send them back in the stands to play with them. I try to comfort B, telling him it's nice to share with our friends and look at all the awesome things he can do with Mr. Potato Head. As soon as the boys are out of his sight, MPH because interesting again and the episode is over.

Life seemed to drag on during this time. I was always on edge, trying to anticipate what make B happy next.  Trying to cut a meltdown off at the pass.  We didn't eat out during this time.  If he food came and was too hot he'd throw it and wouldn't eat anything for the rest of the day.  But I started to figure it out.  I started asking waitresses to wait until his food was cold before bring it out.  Bring out everyone else's then bring his cold, please, it will make life easier for everyone, I promise.

Learning to read behavior has helped me be a better mother, teacher, servant and friend.  When something isn't going right, I try to think "What is this person trying to tell me with their behavior?"  It works with special needs kids, neurotypical kids and adults of all stripes as well.

It's another gift that autism has given me, the reminder that people speak through words and actions.  I've learned to believe people's actions before I believe their words.  It might seem silly for a writer to say but words have become less important. Actions are a more reliable indicator of character than words.  

Sleep

Do you get enough sleep?  If you are momma with birds still in the nest, I'm gonna guess the answer is no.  My answer is no.  I can never seem to get enough sleep.

The first time I was pregnant many different people gave me this advice "When the baby sleeps, you sleep." 15, almost 16 years, later I still follow this advice.  The boys say goodnight and I'm not far behind them.

For a while, this was absolute necessity.  B would not sleep through the night.  He has always had trouble staying asleep.  Some nights we'd have a 2 hour interlude between naps.  I never knew when I would get a full night's sleep.  So, if he was asleep, I was asleep.  In the past year it's gotten better but I still don't feel like like I get enough sleep.

When I wake up in the mornings I do my devotional and spend some time writing.  Then I get back in bed for a 15 minute cat nap.  My day hinges on those 15 minutes.  If I don't get them, the day is not as smooth.

People have told me "If you work out you'll feel so full of energy.  You wouldn't feel like you need a nap all the time." This has not worked out.  When I am working out, I do feel better. But I always want a nap.

There is no better place than my bed.  My sheets are perfect. My pillow is perfect.  The noises in my room are perfect.  I'm sleepy right now thinking about it.

Years ago, my brother in law told me he used to think I was lazy because I was always talking about wanting to take a nap. But then he realized I went 90 to nothing while I was awake and he thought my nap was justified.  It's true.  When I get up in the morning I think "what has to be accomplished before I can get back in this bed". Then I go full force getting things done so I can get back in my hermit hole.

After 40 plus years, I've finally just accepted that this is how God made me.  He made me to love and need sleep.  And I'm learning to structure around it.  Like my 15 minutes every morning.  Or Sundays, I schedule my Sundays so I have time for a nap.  I can get through Saturday without a nap but Sunday without a nap does not make for a great week.

I think that's what I like about getting older. Accepting myself.  Knowing myself.  There are a lot of things I'm still trying to figure out about myself.  But there are a few things I know for sure.  And when I honor those, life goes that much smoother.

What have you figured out about yourself? What's a little quirk that you love about yourself? What's something you do that makes life go smoother?

Racism

There are so many reasons not to write this post.  It's probably not wise to wade into the fray.  I am a white woman raising 3 white boys. I am privileged not just because of my skin color but because of where I live.  Things that I had nothing to do with.  Privileges I did not earn.  I don't know the worry of sending my boys into a world that seems stacked against them at every turn.

I'm also not a police officer.  For a short while Ryan thought he wanted to be a police officer.  I was scared out of my mind.  But I put on a smile and said, "Do what you think is best."  He applied and made it the interview stage before he realized he didn't really want to do it. It's a heavy burden to be a police officer.  I admire the work they do.  I don't have to go to work every day wondering if I'll make it home.

And yet...

There are African American boys I love dearly.  Boys trying to figure out how to become men in this world. A few of them trying to figure it out while having no male role model in the home.  Others have awesome fathers trying to figure out how to walk them through all this.  My heart aches for all my boys.  I wish I could just tell them "Do XY and Z and you'll be ok".  It's not that easy.

And I am an American.  I love our country.  I love the principles for which we stand. Justice for all. Freedom.  I'm worried about our country.  We don't have justice for all.  We have justice for the privileged.  We don't respect the freedoms of others.  We've gotten the idea into our collective psyche that freedom of speech means you can speak freely only when you agree with me.

Above all else, I am a Christian.  I am deeply pained to see other people say they are Christians then spew hate.  Or espouse politics wrapped in hate.  My heart aches.

A friend of mine, Georgia, said it best yesterday on twitter - "None of this will change until we learn to relate to each other differently"

We live in a fallen world. We are each sinners.  There is not one person on this earth who is better than me. I may not act that way all the time but it's true. There is not one person on earth who is better than you.  It's time we all started acting as if this is true.

We are called to love one another.  You can't love someone you are judging.  It just doesn't work. That's what prejudice is all about - pre judging someone before you know them.  We all have prejudices.  I'm prejudiced against people I perceive as lazy.  I don't get them.  Many times I'm not interested in getting them.  I just want them do to what they should be doing.  But that's not my call.  Who am I to say what they "should" be doing?  I certainly don't want someone telling me what I "should" be doing. I need to extend that same courtesy to them. The courtesy of getting out their business and not judging them.

I am left with many more questions than answers.  More heartbreak than salve.  So what can I tell my boys is this - get to know people before you decide you don't like them or that they are 'dangerous'.  Lead with love instead of suspicion.  For my African American boys - I see you. I see you working hard in this world. I love you.  Bend, don't break.  Don't give into the hate.  Keep working hard.  Keep loving.

Frustration

What do you do when you're frustrated?  How does your body react? Where does your mind go?

When I'm frustrated I turn into someone I'm not sure I like. My blood pressure goes up. Grace goes out the door. No one can do anything right. Everyone is doing something stupid. My mind gets foggy. It's hard to think. And I have a hard time remembering what happens. 

For example, Monday night I went to the Wal-Mart closest to our house. I needed groceries, a few things for work and B wanted marbles. Some of you are laughing at me right now and thinking "of course that's the setting of your frustration story, stupid girl". But in defense of the Mart, I don't usually have a problem. I go in, get what I need and get out. 

I could not find what I needed for work. I wasn't certain it existed as I had never used or purchased one before. I wasn't sure I was looking in the right area. So I walked and rewalked the electronics section. I called Zac and made him send me pictures of the sides of my laptop so I could try to find something that might fit. I finally just picked something I thought would work. I received a text that what I picked wouldn't work. I had wasted 20 minutes. Frustrating was growing. 

I moved on to the office supplies. I could not find a simple plastic folder with brads. What is that about? I find something similar but my frustration inches up. 

I go to the toy section to grab marbles. I go directly to where I thought no they should be. No marbles. I go up and down every aisle of the toy section.  No marbles. My frustration is bubbling and I feel like I'm losing my marbles. 

When I left the house, I told Ryan and B that this would be a quick trip. I'm now 40 minutes in. 

I decide to get my groceries. By this time my thought processes are erratic at best. I criss cross the grocery section, retracing my steps as I pass by items on my list and have to go back. More time passes, more frustration. I get everything and decide to make another pass through toys. 

This time there are 2 families casually strolling through the toy department, getting no my way at every turn. "Really?!? Why would you bring your entire family to Wal-Mart?" I finally face the fact the there are no marbles to be had. Neither in the store nor in my head. 

At the front, there are no lanes open on the end where I parked. I get in the closest line that looks short. Wrong again. In front of me is a sweet grandma and her grandson. It appears they haven't been to the store in a year. 

I get a text about a problem at work. I test out the problem. Yep, it's there and it appears to be a big issue. I escalate the problem to the appropriate person. Seething, I check my heart rate. A full 30 beats per minute higher than usual. 

I finally get out of the store but not before I buy a Psalm coloring book and a Milky Way brownie. Always an emotional eater, I scarf down the brownie in the car, take some deep breathes and drive home. 

I get home and recant my stories to Ryan. He has mowed and edged the yard and is on finishing dinner. That's how life no this short trip had taken!  Of course I get riled up all over again as I retell my stories. 

Later that night, as I lay in bed, I wonder "How did I let myself get so frustrated?" I hate to admit it but this happens to me a lot. Little things pile on top of each other and I push myself to the edge. When I've had a really bad day, it's most likely that a lot of small things have added up versus one thing happening. I know if I'll pause, breath and pray, I become less frustrated. But sometimes that's hard to do.  It's like a wave of frustration comes and carries me out to the sea of frustration.

Honestly, I can't wrap this up in a pretty little bow: I got really frustrated this one night, God taught me how to not get caught up in that cycle and now everything is fine and dandy.  It's not fine and dandy yet.  But it will be.  God is teaching me.  He will continue to lead me as long as I submit to being led.  Perhaps He uses these frustrations to draw me closer to him.  I know he uses our weaknesses for His good.  This morning I read about the thorn in Paul's side in 2nd Corinthians 12.

His grace is sufficient for me. Even when I'm frustrated.  Especially when I'm out of control frustrated.    

The Strength to Love

I woke up this morning with this prayer on my mind - LORD, give me the strength to love.

What does that mean?  Does it take strength to love?

Hollywood would have you believe that it does not take strength to love.  That love is the most natural thing there is. You fall in love and live happily ever after.  Maybe that's why there's so many divorces among celebrities.  They think that love should be easy. And when it stops being easy, they bail out.

But that's not real life.  God never promises us a life of ease.  The apostle Paul certainly does not model a life of ease for us.  He is beaten, shipwrecked and imprisoned for love.  He loved people so completely that he was willing to do the hard things God called him to do.  Living in community with people is hard work, sometimes.  It requires all kinds of love.

As a parent, one of the ways I show love it to hold my boys accountable to certain standards.  They need to maintain their grades, they need to keep their rooms relatively clean, they need to treat themselves and others a certain way.

I'm sure sometimes my 'love' seems like nagging and nitpicking to them.  They want to do things one way and I want it done another.  Usually, they want the easy way and I want the right way.  I often say to them "is it done your way or the momma way?" The momma way is a pain in the butt for them sometimes.  It requires more of both of us.  I have to set my expectation, model it and hold them accountable.  They have to work to meet that expectation.  It's much easier to let them do what they want. But then I'm not teaching them to work hard and strive for a standard of excellence.  God has not called me to raise happy kids.  He's called me create strong adults who love Him, themselves and others.  That takes effort. It doesn't just happen.

And, to be honest, some days, I'm too tired to put in the effort.  I'd rather just lay on the couch and read.  But then we both suffer.  Last week, I let B spend the evenings creating and building.  We never studied his spelling words.  Consequently, he got a 58 on his spelling test.  I didn't do my job.  It's my job to teach him good study habits.  This is the first year he's had spelling tests.  I can't expect him to remember to study and to take care of it himself, yet.  I have to do my part to emphasize the importance of good study habits.  I have to teach him to balance his projects/creation with his school responsibilities.

With the older boys it's not as hands on but it is just as constant.  I don't have to sit down and study with them anymore. It's more asking them questions about their school work.  It's helping them get and stay organized. I've already but in the some of work, they know the drill, they just need a push or reminder.

Yes, I do need the strength the love.  I need the strength to put forth the effort to pour into relationships.  I need the strength to lead, ask questions and maintain certain standards.  I need strength to do the things that God has called me to do.

The wonderful silver lining is that God is always willing to give me that strength.  I need only ask.

Try It! or Try It?

Can I be honest with you?  Really, really honest? Saturday morning sucked.

First, I have to acknowledge that 95% of my frustration was exhaustion based.  The first two weeks of school wore me down.  Friday night we traveled 2 hours to watch our high school's Varsity Football game.  We got home around 12:30 then stayed up until 2 sorting pee wee football uniforms. Ryan is the director of our pee wee football league and they had their first games Saturday. And the games were at our stadium.  Ryan and the boys were up at 6 am Saturday morning to go set up and work the games.  I kinda got off easy but still, I was worn out.

OK, that's out of the way...

Earlier in the week, B had promised Ryan that he would dress out for football and stand on the sidelines with his team.  I was tasked with trying to make this happen.

At first, B liked the football pants. He said they were soft.  But the jersey was too tight. Then he decided that the pants were too tight too.  "I can't even get a fart out!" So, I bagged up the uniform, put B in shorts and headed to the game.

Not a picture from Saturday but
his face sums it up

At the stadium, B greeted his team mates and his daddy.  He announced that he wanted to work the concession stand. Okie dokey.  Off he went.

I found some friends and took a seat in the stands.  B decided he'd had enough of the concession stand and joined us.  He had packed a bag of things to do (after his game) and he started taking things out.  He asked me for his polymer clay.  I reminded him that he packed that bag, not me.  He lost it. I felt like I might lose it. We left.

Once home, I sent my momma and sister in law text messages to bring them up to speed.  Then I proceeded to start bawling.

Here's the thing, with the older boys we always said "You don't have to sign up but if you sign up you have to finish."  That saxophone that seemed so cool at band night but now is not, you have to stick with it.  You have to keep practicing even though it sounds like cats dying a slow death.  You can quit in May when school is over. You don't have to be in band next year but you have to finish this year out. We haven't done that with B, obviously.  We've learned, the hard way, that when B tells us he can't 'take' something, he's usually right.

Case in point, 2 years ago at Universal Studios he told us he couldn't do the Simpson's ride.  We had never been on the ride, or even to the park, and did not know what to expect.  We thought it would be ok so we prodded and cajoled B into the ride.  Good gracious, what a mistake! I wouldn't spoil the ride for you but it's not kid friendly.  They almost stopped the ride because B wouldn't sit up. He kept putting his head in my lap.  "Front row, you must sit up."  "Again, front row you have to sit up or we will have to stop the ride."  By the end I was sitting up on one hip, pushing B up to make him appear to be sitting up.  Which would have been alright except for the two cute teenage girls also in our car.  The Bigs were so embarrassed.  And we learned to listen.

I'm such a suck-it-up-stick-it-out parent.  This is not to say that we let the boys sink or swim with no guidance. We talk them through hard situations but the key word is THROUGH.  They have to stick it out until the end.  I'm not sure how to parent at the opposite end of that spectrum.

How do I teach B to keep his word, uphold his commitments while also listening to him and honoring what he knows about himself?  I have no idea.

DIY with B, part 3

First we had the epic lollipop fail that actually turned out ok, then we had the spectacular cereal.  This morning I give you B's Pokemon environment DIY.  This one was all him.  I didn't do anything for this one.  I'll let him tell you about it.




He actually started this one at church Sunday morning.  But that one didn't go the way he wanted.  He found a stick outside and tried to glue it to the paper so it would stand up like a tree. He worked on the felt version Monday after school.  I recorded the video Tuesday morning before school. He's still in his PJs but he was hard at work finishing his project.

There are so many things that frustrate B.  Many times he get upset when things don't work the way he thinks they should.  While he was working on these three projects, he did get frustrated. But he persevered.  And the failures taught him to do something different.  He couldn't make his stick tree stand up on the first version.  On the second felt version, he put a rock behind the tree to make it stand.

But this is really true for all of us, I think.  We learn more from doing that from watching. And if we'll let ourselves, we can learn a ton from failing.  B can't stand to fail, like so many of us.  It irritates him to no end and sometimes causes a meltdown.  But when I walk along side him through his failure, he'll let me teach him something.  And he is always teaching me things!  These projects were a good reminder to me that I need to let him try more, fail more and encourage him to try again.

Hurting

Sunday night we took the boys out to eat as a kind of end of summer celebration.  At one point I looked around and no one was talking.  I had already asked them questions about the upcoming school year and gotten short answers, so I didn't want to keep asking questions and feel like I was grilling them.  It was hurtful.  I felt like a bad mom.  Look at my family sitting here in silence while families all around us were talking and laughing.  What am I doing wrong?

The boys did eventually start talking.  But I couldn't shake the bad mom feeling.  So, I decided to do something I got from my sister in law, who got it from another friend of ours.  I decided to do a prayer journal with each one of them.

Once they were in bed, I went into their room and sat with them.  I asked them for 3 things they were thankful for and 3 things they were worried about (I modified for B - 1 worry and 2 thankful).  I wrote the things in the journal then we prayed.

Wow! I got more than I bargained for.  More than I had expected.

At dinner I had thought, "Do they even like each other?" During our prayer time I found out they are all thankful for our family.  I was also touched that both the older boys are faithful for their faith.  Their thankfulness encouraged me.

I also found out the things that are hurting my boys' hearts.  And it crushed me.  I cried with them. I prayed with them and I held them close.  After the last boy I sat on the stairs crying and praying. I was so overwhelmed.  I don't know what to do to ease their pain. I'm not sure how to help them.  This had done nothing to relieve my feelings of being a bad mom.  I crawled into my bed and fell asleep praying and crying.

All I can do is pray and ask God to guide Ryan and I.  Ask Him to lead us as we lead them.  This verse was in my reading this morning:

There's not always a way to fix things right this minute.  But, I can stand firm in my faith.  Keep praying.  Keep asking God to lead my boys.  Keep begging Him to lead Ryan and I.

But the bottom line is: let all that you do be done in love.  I have to lead from a place of love.  I have to show them how to live in love even when you're hurting.  We all know the adage, "Hurt people hurt people." I don't want the things that are worrying or hurting my boys to lead them to hurt others. I want them to operate from love.

So, today I pray, "LORD, help me to lead my boys in love.  Let them do all things out of love."

Mr Honesty

The last day of school is always chaotic. This year was no exception. Sam's 8th grade awards assembly and B's end of year party overlapped. Ryan could be at awards but needed to leave as soon as it was over for a meeting. Thankfully, Zac's 6th grade awards had been earlier in the week. 

I have learned that B needs someone with him at parties or special events. One year I didn't line anyone up for Grandparent's lunch. He didn't say anything that day but a month later, I heard about it. And the next year on Grandparent's lunch day, I heard about how no one came to Grandparent's lunch. The dude has an incredible memory.

So, I hatched a plan. 

Mr. Honesty on the last day of 1st grade

My neighbor, Lori, also has a daughter in B's grade. She came to the middle school, signed Zac out and took him to the elementary school to be at the party with B. After Sam's awards, I ran over to the elementary school. 

By the time I got there, the teacher had given out awards. I started to take B's picture with his award when Zac said "I already took his picture." Well then! Thanks, Zac!

B had been presented with the Honesty Award.  So right on!  Don't ask that boy a question you don't want a real answer to.  I was so touched that B's teacher had chosen to highlight that particular portion of his personality.  She took something that could be a deficit and rewarded him for it.

A couple of weeks ago B spent the night with his aunt and uncle.  His uncle made chocolate chip cookies after dinner.  B loves him some chocolate!  The next morning his aunt was in the kitchen and B was coming downstairs.  She asked him what he was doing.

"I went up to check on the boys."

"OK" she said.

Suddenly, B dropped his head "OK, OK! I'll tell you the truth.  I ate the last two cookies!"

He can't help but be honest!

Why is honesty tricky for us?

Because people confuse bluntness with honesty.  They think to be honest you also have to be rude.  But that's not true.  You can tell the truth in love.  We need to be telling each other the truth in love.  What kind of relationships do we have if we aren't telling each other the truth in love?  Superficial ones.

Most of the time, B does tell the truth in love.  Just the other night he asked Ryan if he could lay on his stomach.  "I love your big old soft belly" Without love, this is B telling Ryan he weighs too much.  In B's loving world, he's telling Ryan "I love being close to you."

It's easy to be blunt and rude.  Some people think it's fun.  They want to be rude to your face and laugh it off, "That's just who I am. Deal with it."  No thank you.  I don't want to deal with it.  I want people to be real and tell me the truth in love.  It's what God has called us to.  Real relationship with Him and each other.