Category Archives: Family

Fourteen Years

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Fourteen years ago today, Chris and I were married in a small church in small town Kentucky.  Fourteen years of marriage and we’re thrilled to be here, with no small amount of work.  But overall, we have a blast!

Here is what fourteen years of marriage looks like:

  • Getting laid off not once but twice
  • 2 houses, 1 apartment, and one mobile home
  • Infertility
  • Birth of a son
  • Postpartum depression
  • Surprise pregnancy
  • Birth of a daughter
  • 1 Italian Greyhound, 2 Golden Retrievers, and 1 Poodle
  • Autism spectrum diagnosis for one child:  Asperger’s
  • 3 nephews and 3 nieces
  • All but one of our grandparents have moved on to Heaven.
  • A precious and amazing brother-in-law is already there to greet us when we arrive, too.
  • Lots and lots and lots of Star Trek.
  • Amazing trips (but I’ve still yet to see the Grand Canyon!  Tragic!).
  • Speech therapy, behavioral therapy, Early Steps, and Child Find
  • Four surgeries, two hospitalizations, and lots of allergies and migraines
  • No broken bones!  Hallelujah!
  • Countless piano students who I’ve loved and adored
  • Resigning from teaching for a time
  • Many skeletons of computers and mountains of software
  • 2 pianos (yes, at the same time!)
  • A few hurricane threats
  • Home remodels
  • Homeschool!
  • And the adventure continues…

Love to each and every person who has been with us through good and bad times and in sickness and health.  We treasure you all, even if we are a bit introverted.  Ha!

Blessings

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Laura Story has a song called “Blessings” that is incredibly touching for so many.  I’m sure it’s been expounded upon in countless blog posts.  The gist is that blessings can come through difficult trials.

And it’s true!  Blessings do come through trials.  Suffering has a purpose.  (The ultimate suffering for a purpose being Christ on a cross for us…)  We have lived it through other trials in our lives so we know this to be true.  I asked a question in a recent post about what we are grieving.  Now, “What have we gained? How are we blessed?”

Compassion.  So much compassion.  We sit in a restaurant and hear a crying child.  We don’t know the full story anymore, because we were apparently experts before.  That child may or may not have “issues” like ours, but is it not better to err on the side of caution and offer up a prayer and kind smile of understanding for the parents instead?  Or just ignore it.  Oh, how we’ve longed to just be ignored before.

Knowledge.  Knowledge is power.  To gain control over that which feels out of control, we learn like crazy.  When our children are hurting from an illness or a struggle, we research like mad mommas.  Thank the Lord for the internet!  While it has and does harm, the blessings that come from instant community and resources and support from around the world just by tapping a few computer keys – that’s HUGE!

Technology.  Aspie kids love technology.  We are blessed to live in age that revolves around technology.  We control it carefully right now because it would be very easy for G to just be completely absorbed into that world and never come out, but the avenues it provides for therapy and teaching are incredible.  Just incredible.  As a parent, I was able to download books instantly to read about this new diagnosis.  In the past, I would’ve spent hours in a library or bookstore.  This is a timesaver.  Technology is a blessing on multiple levels (and equally a hindrance).

Understanding.  Oh, how much more do we understand the world around us!  We see people with new eyes.  Just maybe that rude oddball at the store really didn’t understand what was happening…for the same reason my son wouldn’t.  Just maybe I misunderstood that strange person because they were not sure how to communicate what they intended to communicate.  Perhaps that person who looks angry all the time just isn’t comfortable being around people and/or in a crowded situation.  (Asperger’s is largely undiagnosed in adults.)  And, well, some people really are that rude.  But, know what I mean.  Understand that the whole world is not like you and me.  Some people are wired very differently, and they think and interpret the world very differently.  And some people make more sense now!  Ha!  See?  Understanding.  Which is Grace.  

Answered prayer.  This is INCREDIBLE.  Through trials, we learn a dependency on God that we don’t have in easy times.  Our relationship with Him is refined and this is another blessing.  We feel like we are constantly on our knees in prayer.  Actually, it’s more like prayer in motion as we go through the day.  We have support coming from every direction and it is amazing.  I prefer to share answered prayer privately in order to keep everyone’s privacy safe, but suffice it to say that we have been oh. so. very. blessed.

My son makes sense now.  All the puzzle pieces of his behavior have fallen into place and we (sort of) know where to go from here.  That, in and of itself, is a blessing.  He is not “that kid with Asperger’s” or “my son who has random tantrums and I have no idea what’s going on” anymore.  He is exactly who God created him to be.  He is passionate and joyful and full of energy.  He is loving and so smart with a memory that could win him Jeopardy (a show he loves).  He is focused and driven.  He is our son and he is incredible.

Our blessings continue and I cannot wait to see what else unfolds.

 

Big Chicken

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Tonight, the kids were in bed.  Chris was out to see a movie with his friend Shawn – wings and movie.  Must be a guy thing.  I had the TV on for noise – rerun of The Voice, which I do happen to like.  Laundry was coming out of every nook and cranny in my house.  Like Legos, I think it reproduces when no one is looking and is suddenly out of control, promising to trip you up at every turn.

Suddenly, the dogs started insanely barking, their noses pointed towards my garage.  Wait…no husband, kids are in bed…what?  I get up and see that the door from my garage to my kitchen was partly opened.  Um…  This entire time, Mindy and I are skyping as we usually do when our hubbies have a date night.  (spelling and grammar rules are not applicable when skyping!)

Tara: my dogs are going nuts and its making me nervous

Mindy: oh no – i hate when that happens

Tara: well…at least they sound fierce
my garage door coming from the house was open
i’m totally creeped out
probably just the air that did it…but still!!!
am I a freak? I’m a freak
i’m getting the baseball bat
welcome to my internal monologue

Mindy: oh no!!

Mindy: do you want me to come over?

Go ahead, start laughing.  It’s ok, really.  It gets better.

Mindy got all three of her kids in the car, one of whom was writing a novella about her adventures with George the Class Monkey that week.  ”Mom, can I write about going to Miss Tara’s?”  They all piled in the car and headed to my house.  Meanwhile, I gathered up the courage to sneak past the garage door and get the baseball bat, with a ferocious Golden Retriever by my side.  And don’t even mess with the poodle.  He’s a superhero in disguise.

I checked on the kids and sure enough, S was awake.  ”Oh, hey, Mom!  Did you hear me kick on the wall?  I heard the dogs barking when I did that!”  Insane giggling.  Sigh.

She was more than happy to accompany her mommy on the now almost pointless trek to check the garage.  Shameless, I know.  She donned her pink flip flops, grabbed her stuffed Rainbow Dash pony (of course), and I tasked her with holding my phone.  We walked outside, in front of my garage – bigger door, you know.

“Mom, what are you doing?” S asks.

“Um, checking for bad guys?” I offered.

She tilts her little 6 year old head to the side and gave me that look.  ”Really?!” with all the sarcasm she could muster.  It was impressive.  I couldn’t help but bust out laughing.  Right there in my driveway, at 8:30pm, Golden Retriever in one hand and a Louisville Slugger in the other.

S stood guard and I checked the garage while G slept soundly in a melatonin-induced coma.  Jacque the Super Poodle was caged for the moment.  His super powers have to be contained for the good of mankind sometimes.

I checked the garage, around the garage, under the car.  As if anyone could hide amidst the chaos called Our Garage.  After I gave the all-clear to my 6 year old partner, I told her we were going to wait for Miss Mindy, and that she would be there any minute.  She turned around and gave me a funny look.  ”Why?”

I mumbled, “…because I’m a big chicken…”

“Where?” she asked as she quickly looked all around her for this proverbial chicken.  Once again, I was crossing my legs to keep from peeing my pants in laughter.  Not hard after a couple of kids.  This whole thing was pretty funny once I got to thinking about it.  I could’ve called my neighbors, but I like to keep my insanity contained to close friends.  And by the time Chris responded to texts, Mindy was already nearly to my house.

And we know it makes no sense at all that 4 kids, 2 moms, 1 Golden Retriever, and a Louisville Slugger could protect the world from the evils hiding in my garage, but we sure were going to try.

Mindy pulled up, three kids in PJs in tow and they looked as delighted as ever.  Field trip!  Middle of the night!  Rock on!  C was armed with George the Class Monkey because he had to come on this adventure to Miss Tara’s Big Chicken’s house, too.  Mindy hung out for a few minutes while the kids (minus G) played a few rounds of Hide-Go-Seek.  In the middle of the night.  At 8:45pm.

To C’s precious Kindergarten class, you’re welcome.

(In case you were worried (because of course you are), Chris said it was the a/c unit that probably sucked the garage door in and opened it, because it hadn’t been shut all the way in the first place.  Oops!)

 

 

The Sibling

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For Autism Awareness month…

I shared with all of you earlier in the week that our son was diagnosed with Asperger’s in January.  Asperger’s is on the autism spectrum.  You can learn more about it here on the Autism Speaks website.  My posts thus far in this series are A New Reality, The Good, A Different Path, and A Glimpse.  It might help to read those first if you haven’t already.

A common question, and rightly so, is “How is S doing?”  I ask myself that all the time, in fact!

That girl is a trooper, man.  A trooper!  

She is our surprise blessing from God.  Because of our fear of recurring postpartum depression when G was born, we decided to not have any more children.  The very night we made that decision, we gave all our pregnancy and maternity stuff to a dear friend who had just found out (surprise!) that she was pregnant.  The very next morning I realized something wasn’t quite normal and indeed I was pregnant, too.  You can’t make this stuff up.

I had to ask for my stuff back a few hours later at church.  I’ll never forget that moment.

“Hey, um, Mindy?  I need my stuff back.”

True story.  (Right, Mindy?)

God has such a sense of humor.

Long story short, all went well.  She is now six years old and she takes life by storm and always has.  She charges ahead with no fear whatsoever.  She jumped off the very high dive of the local university pool at three years old.  (Yes, I’m in for many gray hairs.)  Somehow she managed to acquire an extroverted gene that was incredibly hidden so recessively in my and Chris’s DNA.  We’re really not sure how that happened, but happen it did.

She’s bold.  Have you ever seen what that girl wears?  Fashionistas, watch out!  Boots are her forte.  Wild hair?  We’ve got that covered.  She avoids combs at all costs.  It’s all in the clothes, baby.

She’s dramatic.  Nobody can crumble into a pile of tears quicker than she can.  Nobody can break out in laughter or into a strong southern accent or princess talk mere seconds later.  And she knows everything about My Little Pony.  Just ask her.  You’ll get an education.  I’m leaning towards Pinkie Pie or Fluttershy being my favorites, personally.

She loves to shop.  Oh, where oh where, did I go wrong??  If you know me at all, you know I hate shopping.  I know I’m weird.  She says the mall is the most magical place on earth.  My sweet friend Monica F. taught her that.  Monica also taught her that every shopping trip must include a Starbucks vanilla scone.  I can’t blame her there.

She loves art.  This girl can draw.  At six years old, she has a really great eye for proportion and color and all things design.  (Well to my most unartistic eye!)  She just sees it.  Really cool.  It somehow never translates to her bedroom, er, design, though.  Sigh.  Disastrous.

Her imagination is amazing.  She can play for hours with her ponies or Barbies by herself or with a friend.  G has trouble with what you and I think of as imagination.  It’s very difficult for him.  Imaginative play and making up stories just doesn’t happen.  (His imagination is different in other ways.)  But with S, she pulls it out of him.  She has taught him so much.

Her joy and energy!  Wow…it’s endless!  She knows exactly when to make us laugh.  She’s silly and says the funniest things.  She always manages to make her mistakes and bad choices sound so terribly exciting.  ”Mommy, I stole it!” she said, with a big grin on her face.  (another true story)

G’s tantrums are hard on her.  When he cries or screams in frustration and anger, she covers her ears and runs to her room or to our bedroom, sometimes in tears.  It is indeed hard to understand and even harder to explain to a six year old.  When it happens in the car, it can be worse because she can’t escape.  Other times, she’s amazingly calm and matter-of-fact and tries to help me out by being a calming influence for G and for me.

When G is not handling a change really well or is crying to go home for some reason or another and because I haven’t used my mind reading powers adequately enough, I have to deny G so that S can have her full class time – whether it’s art or Classical Conversations or swim.  As much as every fiber of my being is crying to escape, she needs her time, too, to be a little girl.  Striking that balance is challenging and often physically difficult as I battle (ie “patiently work with”) G for an hour until she is finished.

The funnier moments are when S tries to mimic G, whether to get attention or try a new method of venting her frustrations – I don’t really know.  But one thing I do know, I’m just not sure it’s physically possible for her to copy one of those tantrums.  She just can’t do it.  Oh, she tries.  But after 5-10 minutes she is completely done.  It’s entertaining in a really weird way.  Must be good exercise, too.

God knew what He was doing when He knit our family together.  When I describe my daughter, I simply say, “She is JOY.”  Because she is.  Joy on a rollercoaster maybe, but most definitely joy.  So how is S doing?  ”She is JOY.”  Much needed joy.

A Glimpse

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This month is World Autism Awareness Month.  (Read previous posts here.)

Here’s a glimpse into the real honest brutal truth of what I feel, well, when I’m having a pity party in full swing.  :)  It’s not often, but it happens.  Nobody ever accused me of being an emotional rock.  Just note that I also am very aware of where we are relative to so many others.  We have dear friends with profoundly disabled children.  We have dear friends fighting cancer tooth and nail.  This diagnosis isn’t life threatening and again, nothing in G is broken, but it just shakes things up a bit then the glitter will settle soon in our own little sno-globe world.

A season of some grieving seems to come with a diagnosis you don’t quite expect or want to hear.  (I did google this!  Google says so, so it must be true, right?!)  I dearly love the incredible positivity of approaches some people have to having a child with Asperger’s, and I try to always take that approach myself.  I have to.  But honestly, some days it is very, very challenging.  The tantrums.  The constant evaluation and hypersensitivity to his mood.  The need to adhere to a schedule.  The awareness to be able to forewarn when there is any changes to what is “normal”, no matter how small.  The need to want to bash a punching bag in endless frustration but having to use eternal patience that I don’t always have.  I’m thankful the Lord provides what I need for each and every moment.

What am I grieving for when my pity party is in full swing?  (Mature, I know.)

I grieve when I see moms with children who don’t have tantrums for an hour or two just because the day’s schedule wasn’t followed or I did not read my child’s mind just right.  I wish I had that and I hope they count their blessings, for they are blessed.  (I do realize every family has their own set of struggles…just sharing what I feel here when I’m in “celebration mode”.)

I grieve looking at “Here we are at Disney!” pictures as happy children trek their way through The Happiest Place on Earth.  To our son, it is not The Happiest Place on Earth.  Instead, it is The Loudest and Most Crowded Torture Chamber Ever Created.  I have to admit, I sometime concur with that assessment.  Have you ever been there in July?  Wowzers.  I had dreams of surprising my children by taking them to Disney and having a blast.  How do we do that now?  (At least, now we know why we’ve always had to leave after a few hours.)  We plan very carefully, that’s how.

I grieve the loss of “normal” for us, the loss of “normal” for him.  I grieve for my baby boy who has to deal with the anxieties and frustrations that come with this.  I grieve for my 6 year old daughter who doesn’t understand what is going on right now, who cries when her brother doesn’t stop crying, and who for a long time will be “helping” him without knowing it.  (As I type this, she is trying her hardest to comfort him after he learned his fish died yesterday.  She has drawn two pictures of his fish for him and made him a sandwich and drink, followed by hugs and a kiss.  Can she make me a drink?  Oh, wait…)

I grieve that vacation planning has to be a little different.  I grieve that every approach to a homeschool tutor or new church teacher or health care professional will be, “Hi, I’m G’s mom, can I speak to you privately for just a moment?”  Asperger’s isn’t always obvious, you know.  (G doesn’t know about this right now.)

Again, not life threatening or profoundly life changing.  This is just a glimpse to when I have my little black party hat on with my tissue box by my side.  And I believe the grief for other moms is the same, whether talked about or not.

The party hat doesn’t stay on for long.  I take it off and celebrate that my son is still amazing because of Asperger’s, not despite it, as my friend Bonnie so wisely said yesterday.  My daughter still has her dramatic eye-rolling moments.  Together, they are the sweetest siblings.  They are best friends and best enemies.  I love them to the moon and back a thousand times over.  And I have the best job in the world.  Wife.  Mom.  Homeschooling Momma.  Excuse me while I go try to freeze time…