Family Dinner

Don't get me wrong - I'm a big fan of the family dinner. For one thing, Dave's our cook - if we relied on ME well, we'd all starve probably.

However, some of the time, I just hope to survive the family dinner and don't dare reach for such heights as to enjoy it!

First there is the time prepping the dinner. Four kids, the older ones needing help with their homework, Dad coming home and needing to get cooking, the younger ones tuning up for their grouchy/hyperactive time right before bed. Not exactly a recipe for success.

So, provided we even manage to get the dinner on the table in a timely manner, then of course, there is eating time. Or, should I say the whining time. With six people, one who watches sugars & carbs, another who watches the fat, another that is super-picky with odd tastes, another who prefers meat & carbs, another who refuses to eat meat and a toddler who screeches and gets some food into her mouth but more on the ceiling, floor, table, hair etc it's near impossible to pick out something for dinner that doesn't upset at least ONE member of the clan.

Dinner is chaotic at best, with hyper children all sharing at once and just two tired parents wondering when will it be bedtime? At worst, its whining and crying from one or two about do they REALLY have to eat this? Still, when you manage to survive, its nice to be all together, to hear the stories and catch up on each others' days, and to laugh and enjoy each other -- if only we could survive on pizza every night!!

Tonight is flaffel - believe it or not, something that is low carb, sugar and fat (if you bake them!), loved by the picky eater, loved by the one who doesn't eat meat and enough to fool the one who loves it (just like a meatball, right???), and plenty messy for the toddler. Looking forward to a fabulous dinner - at least tonight!

Mother's Day

This mother's day, surprisingly, I'm thinking about mothers and children...

I'm thinking of what a blessing my own mom is. I'm wishing that it didn't take a whole day of FLYING to see her. Let's face it. I wasn't exactly an easy teen; in fact, I was the queen of using words as a weapon. She not only survived my independent spirit, but also helped guide me and was still there for encouragement when I failed. And still is!

I'm thinking of what a blessing all four of my children are (even though it was just last evening they went to bed early for all our sanity's sakes!). Trevor with polite ways and sensitive spirit, Behailu who is so helpful and easy going (and that smile!), Easton the little guy with the big personality and dancing eyes and the big hugs, and Kenzie the outgoing happy toddler and even her attitude is pretty amusing.

I'm thinking about my children's other mom's... their Russian and Ethiopian mothers. The mothers who gave them life and love and made a sacrifice so selfless I honestly cannot fathom it. I'm thinking about the millions of orphans in this world who do not have a mother or a family any longer.

I'm thinking that I wish life didn't always get so life, if you know what I mean. You've probably heard the mom song on you tube or something... we had it in church this weekend too. That song makes me sad because I can so relate, but boy it really isn't all the flattering, is it? I mean, its not the image of the dream mom I always wanted to be... its a list of "do this" and "don't do that's" and sometimes that’s what I feel like I do all day with a random hug and I love you thrown in for good measure.

I'm thinking of my own hopes to be a mother and the long road it took to get there, and all the women that are traveling that difficult road now. I'm thinking of the fact that I never dreamed of 4 children, never imagined my life would look like it does - the chaos and imperfections, the struggles and the juggling, the sacrifices and the laughter all rolled into one. And I'm thinking that despite the times that I want to run away screaming, or the times I feel like I failed at being the mother I'd like to be, that really, I love my life, my family, my joys... and I wouldn't have it any other way...

What a change?!?

This weekend Trevor went to have a special time getting spoiled with attention by his aunt and uncle, leaving us not only missing him, but also with just 3 children! Just? Yes, Just! When we adopted siblings over a year ago, we doubled overnight. We've never had JUST 3 kids before. Never having experienced the joy of JUST 3 children, I guess I just assumed that once you are out numbered it hardly makes a difference, because honestly, I've had more than my four and I hardly notice. So, I just expected that with loss of the oldest, most independent of the brood that really life would not feel very different aside from missing him. Boy, was I wrong! What a difference it makes! From shopping to bath time to going to church it was just easier (not better - I can't imagine life without my Trevor!)...just easier, smoother, faster...

FOOD! (and laundry)

Sometimes I feel like my life is being defined by food and laundry...the biggest tasks of my week! I don't even have a lot to say about laundry except that at any given time, it needs to be done to varying degrees. On good days it just needs to be done because, well, someone is running out of socks or underwear or some essential item like that. However, in this house its not just about sheer volume - its also about necessity... the pile in the washroom is too big. The washroom is where the "special" clothes go, the ones that have seen a little too much pizza or ketchup or paint, or markers or glue, or grass or dirt or yes, I'm sorry to say - or blood or snot or pee or even poop. I must remember to buy stock in spray-n-wash....

Somehow, though, I've managed to make peace with the ever growing mountains of laundry. There is a certain sense of accomplishment that comes from rising to the top and tearing it down, the sweet taste of victory when the clothes come out stain-free! Even when I taste defeat, I do not give up - there is always another load to try again. Once the mountains are conquered I get to have, if even momentarily, the feeling that my OCD is at rest - when all the clothes are neatly folded and put away and there now reigns organization where once there was chaos.

The food though, I'm still working on. It just doesn't seem fair, you know? It really doesn't. I have friends people! I have lots of friends with children the age of my children and we have had dinner with them! Their kids do not even come CLOSE to putting away the amount of food that my kids do. This does not make sense to me, it really seriously does not. My oldest, seven year old Trevor, is average. Of course, yes he's spectacular in every way but in terms of build, he's average. He eats like a camel drinks water. On the meals he likes (breakfast and lunch) he'll eat as much as I will let him - same if by chance we are having a dinner he enjoys. He is, my pickiest eater of them all. If he likes the food, he can really put it away! Then there is 6 year old BJ, built like a tank or at least a fine athletic machine. This kid LOVES, LOVES, LOVES, LOVES, LOVES his food! He has, on numerous occasions, snuck under our radar (like at a picnic) and eaten so much he vomits. Oh yes, he will literally eat until he is sick, if you let him. When I say he loves food, I mean it - while carbs and meat are his all time faves, he will eat a pile of veggies he doesn't even like if its the only thing you'll give him seconds on! Five year old Easton is my little man - seriously, he barely weighs more than his baby sister. He is the anti-BJ --- he hates all things meat but give him anything else and he will go to town!!! Kenzie, my not quite two year old is definitely opinionated and hungry. This girl eats more than her brothers combined -- and she especially loves it when her brothers are distracting mom and dad -- easy access to go help herself in the kitchen!

So, on a day like today, the reality kicks in! WHAT A LOT OF FOOD! Here's the thing too, we don't buy a lot of junk - there aren't a lot of fun non-essentials on my list. I shop from a LIST and try to make the food go far! I find myself making excuses. Easton was with us today and told the cashier at the grocery store all about the 6 people in his family and that we'd just come from Costco. Nice. She definitely thought we were all crazy for more reasons than I could count... Easton the commentator just being one of them! Then I realize that all the jokes we make about when they are teens are not very far from reality. I really will have to get a full-time job just to pay the food bill! While we don't really have the space to build a pole barn like we say and forklift in the food by the pallet-load, I really do think that we will have to kick my hubby's car to the parking pad to make space for a second fridge and freezer in the garage! Can you even imagine if we go through 2 costco loaves of bread and one regular size loaf each week, and 4 gallons of milk now, and the kids are 7,6,5&2....can you even imagine what it will be like in ten years????

Spring Break?

We were off to a glorious start to spring break. For starters it actually LOOKED and FELT like spring. We had some gorgeous days of playing outside in the sunshine - it was even almost downright "hot" (well for here, anyway). We scouted out the upcoming field trip and brainstormed the perfect way to make it doable. We played at our favorite park. And other parks. We tossed the ball and played soccer and kickball and wrote with chalk. It was exhausting, but fun and even refreshing. I was beginning to think that not only would we all survive a week off of school and routine but we were actually going to enjoy it!

And then, the untimely flu struck. First down was BJ, though we didn't fully realize it immediately. Do you have this problem? None of my boys are very good at TELLING how they FEEL. I have to play detective. Sure, I quickly realized that he was developing a cough and runny nose, but honestly, he's been doing that for at least a week + every month since oh, about last Sept, but its not been worse than a cold, so my attitude was more of a "here we go again!". It wasn't until I realized I was a few days behind him and I had a FEVER that I realized HE was sicker than letting on. Even once I realized and ASKED I still got "fine" amidst the hacking cough. I guess nobody wants to admit to being sick on spring break - especially when its beautiful outside!

And then I was really down, and we all know what they say -- Mom's can't take a day off! I tend to catch everything that comes through the household (and of late even get the worst case of it) but again, its just been colds so I was still pushing through, but I have always said, I DO get a sick day if I have a fever! So, I think I had a fever probably by Tues nite, and I somehow made it through until Wed afternoon before crashing. So, our family vacation day, turned into family sick leave for my husband while I stayed in bed, and Fri a recovery day. A great way to spend spring break, eh?

Now, the upside to having the flu is that it is one way that my husband is reminded of the full-scope of my daily life... he gets to literally walk a mile in my shoes caring for the 4 kiddos. He's wonderful and helpful always -- he couldn't be a better father -- he's amazing and supportive and everything, but its always good to have a day here and there where he is completely in charge of running the show. He always pulls it off with style and grace and still manages to get more done than I ever would in a day - but it always builds a refreshing reminder and new appreciation for my life - so that's always a treat.

Now, poor Trevor has come down with it and is sad for all the fun he's missing (a big overnight with aunt/uncle in Seattle, and egg hunt etc) and we're thankful that so far - the other half of the family isn't showing any signs of catching it. We're really praying Kenzie doesn't get it, since it was at this same age that Trevor had the flu turned to pneumonia and I'm sure many of you can relate to the pain of watching those little ones who seem to get so very sick. It looks like we will be having a quiet Easter at home and keeping our germs to ourselves - somehow fitting since we missed last Christmas Eve too (due to weather)...

A Little Unique...

Yup, unique... for a couple of reasons, the first of which is a disclaimer...

This post itself is unique because I've been intentional about posting light-hearted fare here to date. I don't know that this will be the last time I deviate from my norm, but it is the first... and we'll see how it goes. I was long to be talked into blogging at first and I decided from the start to avoid using it as my soapbox, not that there's anything wrong with that, I just wasn't sure that I wanted to have a "conversation" like that with the world. (Did you catch the Seinfeld reference?) Instead, I decided to use my blog to find the humor in my life - and that's been helpful - to focus on how humorous life can be rather than the monotony... but I digress...

The other unique part is that what's on my mind today is my eldest son Trevor, and well, he's always been a little unique. It's how God made him - he's been that way from the very start, as we learned that his brain is simply wired different than the average bear, though being our first it took us a little while to really recognize that. He is a joy and a blessing and a wonderful example to us all, but his life is far from easy. While he's grown and changed and defeated so many obstacles over the years, I can't help but hurt for how difficult life can be for him and wonder what the future holds for him...

Sure, we're all unique and all my kids are unique and I hurt for all of them and the very difficult challenges that they face. My other three children are adopted and struggling with the loss that means in their lives, two of them are of a different race and they have all that to deal with and one of them is in psychotherapy dealing with attatchment and anger issues and I hurt for them as they hurt too, and someday I think I'll write a post for each of them as well. It's not that I hurt more for Trevor than for the others, simply that he is the one whose struggles are at the forefront of our lives at this particular time.

Trevor is a different kind of unique. He's a child that is "atypical". When he was first born he was freaking out the nurses in the hospital because he was making eye contact. By the time he was six months we could tell he was very smart, like he was not able to move but he could figure out how to get the toys he wanted by pulling the blanket toward him... you could almost watch the gears in his head turning as he figured out daily life puzzles that way. We were starting to realize lots of differences between Trevor and typical babies though we still didn't really SEE it. At his 9 month check-up his pediatrician said he was concerned that he could not hold a bottle unassisted and that he would not bear weight on his legs yet. Well, more than that, that he wouldn't even put his feet to touch a surface unless forced. I remember how "cute" we thought it was, how he'd pull up his legs like a frog.

So the initial developmental testing began and we were still clueless. Thankfully, Allegheny County, PA (where we lived at the time) has a fabulous early intervention plan where therapists come to your house to test and if you qualify therapists come to your house to have therapy sessions as well... all free! Of course he qualified for physical therapy at first. It was the strangest thing because it seemed like he was born without any typical instincts. He learned to sit up, pull-up, stand without support and walk, but it had to be taught to him by a physical therapist. He hated physical therapy but he learned quickly.

Along the way with the early intervention new things came to light and more therapy began. After he literally choked a few times and us jumping up and sweeping his airway, we found that he didn't know how to chew, swallow or even recognize food in his mouth. We went back to baby food until the occupational therapist had taught him the skills necessary for eating, which he picked up quickly in typical Trevor fashion. Mind you to this day he is still an extremely picky eater, not even liking kid favorites like macaroni and cheese, but he knows how to eat at least! He also qualified for speech initially, though one day he woke up and started speaking in full sentences, so that was able to be over after it barely started.

Along the way we learned things about Trevor that I don't think we understood really at the time or didn't notice. He was super sensitive to hot and cold anything - air temp, water, food. Bath time was a huge challenge. Forget Swimming. Simply playing outside - he was terrified of grass, sun. He ate meticulously - Trevor had the pincer grasp at a young age and he would feed himself one pea at a time. He hated sand, paint, being wet or dirty. I remember the therapists talking about how they all thought that he was showing classic signs of Sensory Integration Dysfunction (SI) or Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD), but I think I just thought I don't care what you call it sonce he's getting lots of therapy and making lots of improvement.

Lots of improvement. Eventually, while always delayed, Trevor learned how to do the things he needed to, like walk and talk and eat. Eventually he even caught up such that his delay was less than the 25% needed to continue therapy services. Sure, he still struggled with grass and sun and being dirty and wet and touched and all of that, was still so uniquely Trevor, but that's what we thought - there's Trevor - he's just so Trevor!

...until his first year of preschool was coming to a conclusion. That class didn't really take volunteers, and Trevor was always so bright he knew a lot and would come home singing the songs. His teacher saw God in everyone of the kids and, like us, saw Trevor as uniquely Trevor. And then came the end of the year celebration - the day I will never forget - the day I looked and saw more than Trevor's uniqueness, but saw his absolute pain. My parents were in town that day and it was crazy getting there on time and none of us have ever been great in remembering cameras and in typical fashion we'd forgotten all recording devices that day, and I have to say I'm somewhat grateful now for the image of that day is plenty seared into my brain like it was yesterday without photographic evidence to serve as reminders. However, I also wish now, sometimes, that I DID have a video camera and documented that day for not only future therapists and doctors, but especially for future teachers and school administrators. I want to say "Look, look! Look how far he's come and the progress he's made! Please, help us move forward instead of backward!"

So on that day, I looked at my son and saw the crippling way his unique brain was making things that should be fun nothing short of painful. I became aware of what was going on in that room - not simply a celebration but an attack on all senses at once. Trevor was obsessed with the ice cream he heard they were going to make. I tried to get him to talk to friends but he refused. I tried to get him to complete some activities with me but he just wanted to make the ice cream, but it wasn't time for that yet. He sat covering his ears, sometimes rocking, sometimes staring into space, angry, he just wanted to make the ice cream. I watched as every other kid in the room laughed and ran with each other from station to station and parents talked and watched and smiled and I became aware of the vast difference between the typical child and my son. I saw for the first time the whispers and glances from the other parents, the pitying looks that I'd never noticed before. I forced him to the stage for presentation time and he wouldn't go but I made him and he just stared. He couldn't name any of the other children and they all had gone around naming each other. When it came to the singing part of the presentation he didn't participate at all, though I knew he knew the lyrics because he sang them all at home. Instead, he sat alone, way off to the side and played with his hands in front of his eyes - self-stimulating. My first child's first preschool celebration and we both couldn't wait to get out of there.

There started the pursuit of more therapies, and diagnosis and the rest of it. I started learning about SI/SPD and since I remembered his first therapists talking about it that's where we started and he was indeed diagnosed with SPD and began therapy of which he has on and off since then. And I learned about the connection between SPD & autism spectrum disorders and took him to a psychiatrist whom he still sees to have him evaluated there. Officially, he does not have autism, though he functions in many ways like a child with Asperger's Syndrome. While he does have obsessions, use scripting, have difficulty in social situations particularly with peers, an absolutely scary amazing memory and self-stimulates (like playing with his hands in front of his eyes and spinning toys etc), he also has two things that are not typical of autistic children, and that is that he is very good with eye contact (freakishly good as you recall - from birth) and while he has great difficulty expressing his own feelings, he very much understands that everyone has feelings and he very much does not want to disappoint, let down, or hurt anyone else. I've learned though, that the therapies that seemed to have helped Trevor progress as well as he has so far - especially those that help him socially, are therapies designed for children with Asperger's Syndrome. So, officially, he has Sensory Processing Disorder of the sensory sensitive type which results in an Anxiety Disorder.

Honestly, I know its subjective - these diagnosis - and I could go elsewhere and they would call him autistic or something else. I don't really care what you call it, I just want to do whatever I can to get him the therapy he needs to continue moving forward and adapting to his uniqueness and finding his unique place in this world. For the most part, we've done that. He's doing amazing! That doesn't mean its gone (its how he's wired - it will never be "cured"), it just means that the reality is getting more hidden. Does that make sense? See, this is the thing I'm learning about neurological disorders... they are sometimes hidden, they are not always as obvious and in some ways that means you will never fully win. What I mean is this, when Trevor hadn't made the progress that he has now, it was obvious, and while I got stares, you learned to ignore them. I remember standing in line at a department store checking out and he was making noises and looking at the "line starts here" sign from all angles - he was in a sign obsession at the time. The store employee and others in line looked at us like we were from Mars. Now though, he holds it together better. If you don't spend the time really paying attention to the way he visibly braces himself in a situation where he may get touched, or listen carefully to what he's saying and realize its none of it original material but scripted from a conversation he's overheard, a book, a movie, a tv show. If you think he'll just tell you how he's feeling and think when you ask him to do something he won't just do it to please you and then go home and vomit later, you don't see it. You don't see the meltdowns, the times he retreats into his own world, the tears, the vomiting, the nightmares, the night-terrors, the sleepwalking/talking, the not eating, the not being able to enjoy the beach and the snow and the paint and the movies etc. The struggles within him from wanting to do what typical children do and knowing it should be fun, but the reality of it being downright painful for him.

Herein lies where we are existing now. Understanding his desire to be typical, to not be in pain, to try to please. Yet understanding that the reality is we're not there on all things and he can't self-regulate in all ways and as his parents we have to help him adapt in healthy ways before he naturally finds unhealthy ways to deal with his pain. Where we agonize over every field trip and swimming lesson, and just every day at school. And every day at home. Where we try desperately to explain the situation to a teacher that thinks he's fine aside from the fact that he has crazy parents. Where we struggle with what to do - knowing that it is imperative that he learn to adapt to his situations (like school) for him to be successful in life and not wanting to shelter him too much, with the other side that if going to school is causing THIS much pain and regression is it worth it? Its agonizing sending your child away each morning not just shaking in fear but to a teacher who is unwilling to try to work with just even understanding his fears and therefore helping him to make healthy adaptations. However, if I pull him, he IS unique and social situations outside of immediate family are near impossible to get him to engage in - does he not retreat into his own world too much then? So, we fight the battle, hold our breath, hope for a better situation next year, and if not hope that we find a way to foster the socialization and adaptations outside the home in another viable way and just keep him home.

So that's it, dealing with SPD, anxiety - neurological disorders is not easy, its what's on my heart of late as I watch my son struggle, and its not humorous, and its not a funny little thing but its where we're at at the moment. And I know that he will continue to improve, because we will keep fighting and praying. And I'm thankful for all the fantastic progress we have made. And I'm blessed with the sweetest spirit of a child that anyone could have. And most days I don't dwell on the fact that its often challenging to have a conversation with my son that isn't about his latest obsession, but while I'm in this fight, I'm reminded of where we've been and where we are and that throughout it all, God has never given us more than we can handle, and He's held Trevor in his hands and that in the end - whatever comes of this latest bump in the road - we will continue to make progress and move forward and be blessed by Trevor...

One of THOSE days...

I'm having one of those days today. You know the kind -- the ones where you start believing that you really ARE crazy like people say, the kind of day where where you just want to run away screaming, the kind where you can't get anything accomplished and everything (and everyone!) seems to be falling apart around you and you just can't do it all. Yes, one of THOSE days... I'm sure everyone can relate.

You don't want to call it a bad day really, even though it feels like you've been driven to the edge and you're trying to convince yourself that you really don't want to jump - not in the long run anyway. There are bad days - those are different. Sometimes only one thing has to happen to make a bad day -- something tragic and difficult to deal with. Thankfully, I'm not having a bad day. See, really, one of THOSE days is really more about the quantity of little trivial things that add up to that glorious "I can't take another second of this!" feeling.

Today, my family ALL seems to be having one of THOSE days -- and when you're responsible to keep the family of 6 moving, its rough when they ALL are having one of THOSE days. Granted, its actually a rare occurrence in this house where someone is NOT having an off day, but when the moons align such that NOBODY is having a good day, well you know what they say about when Mom's not happy...

I could give you the laundry list, but have you ever noticed it doesn't sound all that impressive when you attempt to spell it out? Hubby is down staff and stressed at work, Trevor is having major anxiety/school issues we're trying to work out but that takes time, BJ still isn't interested in much (including pooping) that doesn't involve sports in some fashion, Easton just generally thinks his life is never fair, and Kenzie is terrible twoing life. My morning started with BJ's poop issues, then realized Trevor is melting down with anxiety and try to calm him down, Kenzie has undone all the laundry, Trevor is still upset, BJ still hasn't pooped, Easton's picking on his sister and when he has to stop is having a fit about how HIS life just isn't fair (HIS life? what about mine right about now???) back to upset Trevor and BJ with the poop... and at somepoint I stop and realize I haven't heard from the princess in awhile -- and then I find her... sitting on the couch, TV on PBS kids, Costco size bag of crackers. All of this she's helped herself to... and you just HAVE to laugh at that scene...

and eventually you get the kids out the door and finish the laundry and make the lunch and wait for nap time, then have a cup of tea and enjoy the rare moment of silence, and remind yourself why it is that most of the time, you really do love your life...