Just One Thing

Mitch Robbins: Have you ever had that feeling that this is the best I'm ever gonna do, this is the best I'm ever gonna feel... and it ain't that great?

Station Manager: Happy Birthday.

--Billy Crystal, City Slickers

In that spirit, I present:

 Melissa's Ideas on Being Awesome at Age 34, Completely Tongue-In-Cheek

1. Health: Get with the program and starting running 5Ks like every other woman in her mid-30s.

2. Nutrition: Buy a Vitamix and make green smoothies.  All the lifestyle bloggers are doing it!

3. Body Image: Increase ab exercises from 10 situps done over 5 years to 10 done at least once a year.  Come to terms with midsection.  Lose somewhere between 1 and 30 pounds without completely abandoning chocolate. 

4. Personal Growth: Increase my blogger cache. 

5. Relationships: Have real conversations in real time.  Laugh more.  (No snark here.)

6. Housekeeping: The bathrooms.  Something about the bathrooms. 

So, I had a birthday yesterday if it wasn't obvious.  I had cake and presents and family, so I had the good birthday requirements met.  I don't have any set birthday rituals, but I have been thinking over the last few days that this birthday is the first one in a long while that doesn't bring with it some kind of change or milestone.  Without some obvious goal for the year, I started thinking about what I want to be true of this year.   I haven't come up with any definitive answers as my Ideas list suggests, but I think it involves what any major goal takes: focus and one step in front of the other.

If I'm not careful, my goal could easily become "Make Jeremiah into a 'typical' kid at whatever cost to my sanity."  I think I've been operating in that manner for the last 6 months.

It hasn't made me the most fun person you'd ever meet.

After quite a topsy-turvy ride of emotions, I do have an aim for the year.

Trust and Obey.  

That means learning to appreciate my unique situation, looking less to what the "norm" is and more to what God would want me to do.  I do think many of the above ideas are things to pursue, but not because "that's what you do" but more "that's who I want to be".

Truly, I want to be more of the person God made me to be, and less of the perfect image I've cobbled together from the constant influx of "ways to be awesome" in which I emerge myself.

If I do, that is gonna make it an awesome year. 

Just one thing.

How Our First Week Went

Well!  It went well.  Surprisingly so.  As we inched closer to the start date, I could only wonder how this would work.  Our daily summer routine was less than ideal.  How could I devote 4 hours to school work (at least, aspire to that devoted block of time) plus feed and provide basic care for my 3 young children?  I was already worn down, overwhelmed and always feeling behind in housework, and now, let's educate my child?  On paper, not a logical move.  The decision had been made, and so, I unpacked my materials, prepared for Day 1, and prayed.  And something happened.  I got up and even though I failed to beat my early riser, chose not the let that bother me.  TV stayed off, and we ate our cereal, and got the kitchen clean.  We got dressed and began at 8:30--us! 

I turned on the music CD that came with my curriculum and "Your a Grand Old Flag" began to play in the background as the we finished getting ready.  We said the pledge, and then, it happened.  God showed up.  I mean it.  We got down on our knees, Mom and kids, and thanked God for our country and the freedom to do exactly what we were doing.  And it was just right.  I hadn't planned to do that--kneel with my kids-- I was just struck by it. And it occurred to me that in all my praying over them, I had never taken that posture with them as active participants.  Lesson 1 and it wasn't even 8:45.

Our basic schedule that is evolving is begin by 9, Math concepts lesson, snack, music/movement break, read aloud, break outside, baby up and lunch, finish/review letters and math activities.  Sarah usually does the math with us and I always allow her the choice of quiet play later in the day, but she usually chooses to stay with us.  On Tuesdays and Thursdays I get to work 1:1 with J, knee to knee.  And we are doing it!  I told myself that this month would be the "training wheels" period as we learn the curriculum, its pacing, and how to modify.  But my boy is learning!  The first lessons have been on the concepts of big/small, near/far, in/out/above/under and basic patterns.  We use manipulatives to introduce the concept and these are perfect for J.  With the worksheets, we do it together, sometimes with him pointing to an answer, circling or coloring an answer.  I modify things completely his response method such as using stickers to indicate in/out on a picture instead of drawing a more complicated image.  Sure, I'd like to work up to the preferred response method, but if he can grasp the concept, that's the point!  The focus of organized lessons and activities has given structure to our days by providing an impetus to our time together.  My purpose, both to bring J further along academically and bring us into a closer sync, is being accomplished!

And I can see more clearly J's weaknesses firsthand.  Obviously, listening comprehension is a challenge.  Our first stories have been classic tales, like the 3 Little Pigs.  While we have a complete new library of picture books as part of our curriculum, these first weeks are strictly oral reading, which stretches J's comprehension and attention.  He is unable to answer a recall question but I do not doubt that with the support of visuals and repetition this will improve.  We are using an on-level curriculum, so my plan is to track along, modify and slow down and review as needed.  If we do 25 percent of a rigorous curriculum (The Calvert School), I'm happy with that.  But I think we are doing a whole lot more!

We are only 6 days in and I don't want to paint our new homeschool routine as an instant family makeover.  It's not.  But I truly believe it's the start to new, exciting days.

Woo hoo!  We're doing the thing!  Thank you for reading, encouraging, and caring! 

Happy First Days of School!

Parallel

One day until August 1st.  The beginning of the school year, and the "end" of official summer, even if it's 90 degrees until late September here in Georgia.

August 1st has been the line in the sand.  The straddled fence.  The trigger to pull.

And we are stepping over, picking a side, starting the race.

We are homeschooling. Teaching at home. Private school (for one).

Yes.  Us.   Special Needs and all.  A minority in the minority.

And yes.  I'm prepared to be pigeonholed  as a religious nut, a motherly martyr, or at least someone lacking in good sense.

I've held all kinds of ignorant assumptions about all manner of things, homeschooling included.  I get it.

But here we are.

I wasn't going to share this so publicly so soon, but the true reasons we have chosen to step back from traditional schooling for the present time cut through all the sides and stereotypes.

I have to know my son's heart.  I just have to.

As the days, weeks, and months pass by, we are moving by each other.  We are parallel.  Close in proximity.  So far from intersecting.

All my ugliness, my frustration, my selfishness, my need to be right-- it all comes bubbling up facing the big, bad autism beast.  My head understands, but my heart is so stubborn.

Even so, there's just enough of a whisper, a gentle assurance that this is the path.

It's falling into place.

We begin Monday.  Bit by bit.  Minute by minute.  I'm gonna to choose to love my son.  As Christ does.  That's my aim.  More than reading, math, life skills, therapy, anything.

Intersection.

I think that's enough to qualify me as his teacher.

The Bracelet

At a Christian conference, I recently heard Pam Tebow speak about how she raised her family.  Of all the sessions and speakers I soaked up, her story of receiving a special bracelet from "Timmy" is the take away I have with me weeks later.

Before playing in Miami for the championship game, each player was given spending money for the trip.  The Tebow men apparently are last minute Christmas shoppers, and so, Tim used this money to buy his mom a bracelet.

It was a charm bracelet, filled with orange and blue beads, his football number, and other Gator related memories.  She wore it on stage, and emphasized that since her son picked out every detail of the gift, it was priceless.  She wouldn't change a thing.

You would never change a treasured gift.

"Love (your kids) the way they came packaged."

Bullseye, Mrs. Tebow.  Ouch.

It is hard to love every bead on my kids' strings.  For each bead I cherish: compassion and friendliness, affection and gentleness; there are others I would happily exchange.  Some I'd leave off altogether.

They seem wrong. Not my style. Not what I want.

Just because something is imperfect does not mean it's not valuable.  (Right, self?)

Yesterday was a "this is not what I want" day. Today is one of those "starting over again" days.

I want to see the beauty of the imperfect.  I don't want to disregard it and hope for something better to magically appear. I want to accept my gift. I want to treasure it.   I don't always.  Today I do.

Some wonderful, some painful, some hidden-- but each piece was carefully selected.

A few days after I wrote this as a draft, I noticed this little treasure.  15 seconds of receiving grace from my son.  I want to finish a task.  He just wants to be near me.  That's a 'bead' I needed to see right now.

The Good Autism Parent and Plain Ol' Me

Both of these personas reside in me.  I became Good Autism Parent (GAP) in an instant and operate out of this persona publicly and privately most of the time.  Plain Ol' Me (POM) is not getting along with her right now.

GAP accepts the totality of autism and embraces the differences.

POM is sick of feeling needed by her son only to dole out milk and cereal. Sick of his crashing to his knees.  Absolutely done with the concept of toileting. Wonders if true independence will ever happen here.

GAP rejects the terms cure and fix.

POM just can't see the good in erratic fear.  Rigidity.  I'd take some fixing there.  Divine Healing. Anything that equals GONE.

GAP exhausts every avenue of therapy, diet, exercise and educational models.

POM wonders how to change a diet that is so severely limited.  How much fight does basic sustenance need to be?  Milk, fries, cereal.  GAP probably thinks they are akin to poison.  Maybe they are.  The best way to teach her son?  Mentally hiding in the corner there.

GAP graciously listens to stories of families like hers and seeks advice.

POM hates that I have to mention my boy is "not aggressive" as if  I was describing a housebroken puppy. Hates that I have a hard time listing his personality traits. Hates pretending that a future for him other than FULL independence is okay with me.  Cause it ain't. It just ain't.

GAP modifies expectations for milestones and holidays.

POM remarks casually to my husband that I'd just as soon skip Christmas this year and turns into someone who'd be confused with a paid mourner.  Ugly, raw disappointment stuffed over time spills out.  Eyes so heavy and painful. Sleep can only make it better.

GAP reminds herself there is immense, immediate suffering everywhere, at all times.  Her needs, in every way, are abundantly met.  Her boy can do so much.  Walk, Run, Talk, Laugh. Love.

POM is starting to realize that a proper perspective doesn't negate the reality of personal pain.  Even the first world kind.

Both love the boy with a gentle ferocity. That's all they have in common currently.

GAP doesn't want to bum anyone out.

POM walks the tightrope of honesty with you today.  I'm put out with my boy.  Annoyed, frankly.  And that's unfair of me.  But it's true.  I don't have a pretty bow to wrap up this duality.

It exists.  And admitting that is enough for today.