Another school year comes to a close. I'm really looking forward to this summer and all the fun adventures we have planned, but I feel like I should take a minute and count my blessings. I couldn't have asked for a better school year for both my children.
Katy started Middle School this year and I was pretty nervous for her. Not academically, but socially. She's not a very confident kid, and friendships don't come easy for her. I was worried that she'd be eaten alive by the social hierarchy that is Middle School. I can honestly say the year didn't start out great, but slowly but surely she found a little group she's comfortable with. These are nice girls, uninterested in social status, who seem to like Katy for all her good and bad qualities. What more could you ask for? In addition, she had a nice time on the cross country team, found that she loved the high jump in track, and even asked if she could try the band next year, even though she's never played a musical instrument in her life. She also wants to try out for volleyball, even though she told me she probably won't make it. I love that she has the courage to try things she's not good at. Wish I could take credit for that - but I'm positive she didn't get that trait from me. And I've found myself looking at her this past year and wondering where all the time has gone. I swear she was just a little preschooler sitting with me at the kitchen table coloring in her coloring book. She's growing up so fast. I know I'm biased, but I think she's such a pretty little thing, with such a sweet heart. I hope I'm doing OK mothering her through these years...
And Jayson? Well that kid just bowled me over. Sometimes I need a good swift kick in my behind to remind me that my son is perfectly capable of doing wonderful things without me worrying and hovering over him. I've tried to give him some space this past year and I think he did fairly well, thanks to some unbelievable support at school and on the sports fields. His third grade teacher was OUTSTANDING this year and really helped him start to take some responsibility to keep himself organized and take some risks (she even gave him a part in the class play). Jayson was the first in the whole class to master his multiplication and division facts, and he studied his little butt off in science and social studies to earn A's all year. Reading and writing are still a struggle, but its nice to finally see where his strengths are so we can encourage him to pursue those, while still working on his weaknesses. And socially? Well, there have been ups and downs, but I think I worry more about Jayson's social life than he does. He has managed to find himself a very sweet little group of boys that he loves to hang out with. When I go into school and watch the kids interact I'm so grateful to see so many of his classmates treat him like any other kid. And he was lucky enough to be in a class full of very sweet children this year. And if you would have told me a year ago that Jayson would play football and baseball this year, I would have laughed in your face. At last night's game, I watched as a teammate sat next to Jayson on the bench and put his arm around him. As the two boys grinned and cheered on their team, I had the biggest lump in my throat. I don't want greatness for my son - I just want happiness for him. This past year has brought so much happiness.
I'm so glad summer is here. No homework, no crazy practice schedules - just a lot of together time with my kids around my house and in my pool. I know these days are so fleeting. I"ll blink my eyes and my kids will have summer jobs and summer school, and then it's off to college. So I'm enjoying it while I can, and counting my blessings. And let's hope 7th and 4th grade are just as successful! Happy Summer everyone!!
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Thursday, May 16, 2013
When Youth Sports Gets It Right...
Sadly, youth sports can become an untamed beast that quickly grows out of control. We've all heard stories of crazy coaches, even crazier parents, outrageous travel teams, ridiculous costs and schedules, and kids driven to the brink of burnout. Every parent thinks their child is gifted and headed for the pros, and many spend all their time and money making sure their kid has the best of everything. I could go on and on and rant about this subject but that's not what I want to talk about.
You see, we have a much different experience with youth sports with our son, Jayson. Everywhere I look kids are heading to elite travel teams and signing up for specialty clinics. I often wonder, where do the average and "so so" kids go? Can't kids play sports just because it's fun? Jayson has been in karate since he was 5, and has recently participated in football and baseball. He is not gifted nor talented in any of these things. Much as I hate to admit it, it's hard to watch the other kids in his karate class progress so much faster, the kids on his football team hit so much harder, and the kids on his baseball team swing the bat more powerfully. But after I take a deep breath and get a grip, it's easy to see how lucky we have been - because Jayson has had incredible experiences with all 3 of these sports thanks to some terrific coaches. And that's when I realize that there's still hope for sanity in youth sports.
Jayson started Karate on the day he turned 5. It was the very first time we attempted any kind of athletic activity. I was a nervous wreck. Jayson was still in a time of his life when meltdowns were common, social skills were dismal, and his attention span was nil. I remember going up to his sensei and talking to him before class started. I told him about Jayson's autism and what might happen. I told him how to handle Jayson if things went south, and I thanked him in advance for his patience. Nearly 4 years later that same man is still Jayson's sensei. He has handled him calmly and patiently, provided tons of encouragement and also gentle butt kicking. Thanks to him, Jayson has moved up 3 belts. He has the confidence to test with hundreds of other kids in front of total strangers. He has memorized 3 katas and has mastered some difficult block and punch combinations. Is he the sharpest one on the floor? No. Is he the most powerful one on the floor? No. Is he good at sparring? Not really. (thank goodness for padding). Will he ever become a black belt? Possibly, but doubtful. But we measure his success in a different way and we are proud of him. I suspect his sensei is proud of him as well. It's not always about being the best.
Jayson's football experience was even better, even though he really didn't have a clue how to play. Erik became an assistant coach so he could keep an eye on how Jayson was interacting with the other players. In the end, we didn't have to worry. The kids really weren't able to talk to each other because they were covered head to toe in padding and protection. All the kids got along fine and the head coach was an absolute dream. He was a perfect example of a positive role model, even asking the ref to call a penalty on one of his OWN players when he made a dirty play. The refs had missed it, but our coach wanted to make a point to the young boys - you play clean or you don't play at all. He even saved a place on the team for twin brothers - one perfectly healthy, the other wheelchair bound with severe physical disabilities. The boy in the wheel chair suited up for every game and coach wheeled him out first when the team took the field. He even gave up the chance at extra points in order to let the boy put the ball on his lap and wheel himself into the end zone. At the end of each game, the boys usually forgot to ask if they won or lost. They just had fun. Those, my friends, are the important lessons to learn in youth sports.
And then we arrived at baseball. I was so excited to have Jayson play, but I was also very nervous. There's A LOT of downtime during a baseball game. Lots of standing around (not a good thing if you have attention issues), and lots of sitting in the dugout (not a good thing if you are awkward with conversations and social interaction). To make matters worse, Erik wasn't able to assistant coach, leaving Jayson on his own. And did I mention that Jayson loves baseball, but can't hit the broad side of a barn? But once again we hit the jackpot with coaches. This coach is the most easy going, positive, and optimistic guy I've ever seen. He cheers for every pitch thrown and every swing of the bat. He has come up with the cutest nicknames for each player. He never argues with the umpires, even when they make an obvious bad call, although other coaches have thrown hissy fits. After all, these umps are just teenagers who are learning skills as well. He has good advice for every player after every game and always has a huge smile on his face. And to top it off, he has the most amazing son - a kid who could easily play on an elite travel team because he's THAT good, but stays on recreational. This boy is just like his father - cheering on his teammates and always being friendly. And happily he spends a lot of time sitting next to Jayson on the bench as they wait to bat. I suspect the coach told his son about Jayson and his autism issues, because he goes out of his way to talk to Jayson and encourage him. And the parents seem really great as well. Everyone cheers for everyone else - even kids on the other team if they make a great play. I couldn't ask for a better experience for Jayson. I'm so grateful. And even though he needs some help in the hitting department, he's actually quite talented at second base! Go figure!
So I'm not one of those mothers that can brag about how talented my kid is, and what elite teams he's on. I have a son who is (gasp) average, at best, in sports. But I suspect that makes me one of the lucky ones. Jayson doesn't have the pressure heaped on him that some kids do. Erik and I can't be swayed to sink tons of money into his athletic development like parents are often pressured to do (we get enough of that pressure with our daughter). Our kid just gets to play and have fun. So a great big THANK YOU to all the coaches and senseis who have helped our son. If everyone approached youth sports like these men, the world would be a better (and less stressful) place. Now, play ball!!!
You see, we have a much different experience with youth sports with our son, Jayson. Everywhere I look kids are heading to elite travel teams and signing up for specialty clinics. I often wonder, where do the average and "so so" kids go? Can't kids play sports just because it's fun? Jayson has been in karate since he was 5, and has recently participated in football and baseball. He is not gifted nor talented in any of these things. Much as I hate to admit it, it's hard to watch the other kids in his karate class progress so much faster, the kids on his football team hit so much harder, and the kids on his baseball team swing the bat more powerfully. But after I take a deep breath and get a grip, it's easy to see how lucky we have been - because Jayson has had incredible experiences with all 3 of these sports thanks to some terrific coaches. And that's when I realize that there's still hope for sanity in youth sports.
Jayson started Karate on the day he turned 5. It was the very first time we attempted any kind of athletic activity. I was a nervous wreck. Jayson was still in a time of his life when meltdowns were common, social skills were dismal, and his attention span was nil. I remember going up to his sensei and talking to him before class started. I told him about Jayson's autism and what might happen. I told him how to handle Jayson if things went south, and I thanked him in advance for his patience. Nearly 4 years later that same man is still Jayson's sensei. He has handled him calmly and patiently, provided tons of encouragement and also gentle butt kicking. Thanks to him, Jayson has moved up 3 belts. He has the confidence to test with hundreds of other kids in front of total strangers. He has memorized 3 katas and has mastered some difficult block and punch combinations. Is he the sharpest one on the floor? No. Is he the most powerful one on the floor? No. Is he good at sparring? Not really. (thank goodness for padding). Will he ever become a black belt? Possibly, but doubtful. But we measure his success in a different way and we are proud of him. I suspect his sensei is proud of him as well. It's not always about being the best.
Jayson's football experience was even better, even though he really didn't have a clue how to play. Erik became an assistant coach so he could keep an eye on how Jayson was interacting with the other players. In the end, we didn't have to worry. The kids really weren't able to talk to each other because they were covered head to toe in padding and protection. All the kids got along fine and the head coach was an absolute dream. He was a perfect example of a positive role model, even asking the ref to call a penalty on one of his OWN players when he made a dirty play. The refs had missed it, but our coach wanted to make a point to the young boys - you play clean or you don't play at all. He even saved a place on the team for twin brothers - one perfectly healthy, the other wheelchair bound with severe physical disabilities. The boy in the wheel chair suited up for every game and coach wheeled him out first when the team took the field. He even gave up the chance at extra points in order to let the boy put the ball on his lap and wheel himself into the end zone. At the end of each game, the boys usually forgot to ask if they won or lost. They just had fun. Those, my friends, are the important lessons to learn in youth sports.
And then we arrived at baseball. I was so excited to have Jayson play, but I was also very nervous. There's A LOT of downtime during a baseball game. Lots of standing around (not a good thing if you have attention issues), and lots of sitting in the dugout (not a good thing if you are awkward with conversations and social interaction). To make matters worse, Erik wasn't able to assistant coach, leaving Jayson on his own. And did I mention that Jayson loves baseball, but can't hit the broad side of a barn? But once again we hit the jackpot with coaches. This coach is the most easy going, positive, and optimistic guy I've ever seen. He cheers for every pitch thrown and every swing of the bat. He has come up with the cutest nicknames for each player. He never argues with the umpires, even when they make an obvious bad call, although other coaches have thrown hissy fits. After all, these umps are just teenagers who are learning skills as well. He has good advice for every player after every game and always has a huge smile on his face. And to top it off, he has the most amazing son - a kid who could easily play on an elite travel team because he's THAT good, but stays on recreational. This boy is just like his father - cheering on his teammates and always being friendly. And happily he spends a lot of time sitting next to Jayson on the bench as they wait to bat. I suspect the coach told his son about Jayson and his autism issues, because he goes out of his way to talk to Jayson and encourage him. And the parents seem really great as well. Everyone cheers for everyone else - even kids on the other team if they make a great play. I couldn't ask for a better experience for Jayson. I'm so grateful. And even though he needs some help in the hitting department, he's actually quite talented at second base! Go figure!
So I'm not one of those mothers that can brag about how talented my kid is, and what elite teams he's on. I have a son who is (gasp) average, at best, in sports. But I suspect that makes me one of the lucky ones. Jayson doesn't have the pressure heaped on him that some kids do. Erik and I can't be swayed to sink tons of money into his athletic development like parents are often pressured to do (we get enough of that pressure with our daughter). Our kid just gets to play and have fun. So a great big THANK YOU to all the coaches and senseis who have helped our son. If everyone approached youth sports like these men, the world would be a better (and less stressful) place. Now, play ball!!!
Thursday, April 11, 2013
A Fractured Fairy Tale
Once upon a time there were 5 Road Whorriers. These 5 strong women decided to go on a very perilous, yet rewarding quest. They would all run the Martian Marathon together. The journey would be tough, but the rewards? Out of this world. Literally. Have I mentioned the alien head medal? And so these women began their journey - some for the first time, some more experienced, but all ready for anything
.
But alas, this journey was filled with danger at every turn. The first Road Whorrier fell victim to health issues. Much as she tried, she realized that it was just too dangerous to continue on the journey. She bid the other 4 women goodbye and promised to join them on future adventures. And then there were 4.
But peril lurked around the next mile marker. The next Road Whorrier received terrible news about her father, and knew she had to leave quest to go fight a much more important battle. We were all saddened by this tragic turn and wished her well. And then there were 3.
The 3 women continued on their journey, which was getting longer and longer and more and more painful. They decided that the longest part of their journey would take place on Tuesdays. The evil Mother Nature heard their innocent musings and unleashed her fury. Every Tuesday from thence forth was fraught with snow, bitter cold temperatures, ice, and howling winds. Still, the Road Whorriers journeyed on.
But alas, Mother Nature got one of them in the end. Severe ice pushed one brave woman to bring her training indoors to the dreaded treadmill. Sadly, she did not survive. The treadmill injured her foot so badly that she could not continue on such a dangerous quest. And then there were 2.
But the evil marathon villains were not through with these Road Whorriers yet. On the longest and most difficult training run of the journey, Mother Nature declared, "Let there be sustained winds of 30 miles an hour with gusts up to 55!! Mwah ha ha!!!!!!" But the brave women conquered 20 miles that day and thought they had vanquished the evil Mother Nature for good. But danger was still close at hand. The next week one Road Whorrier felt a horrible pain in her achilles. She thought her journey was over. It wasn't, but the pain would be with her for the remainder of the quest. She had to be extra brave. With only days left before the end of the long and perilous journey, Mother Nature rose again and planned one last, double pronged attack. She made the rains come and flood the basement of one brave woman, trying to break her spirit, and force her husband to abandon her to clean up the mess. And to finish off the last 2 brave whorriers for good, she changed the race day weather from sunny and 50 with no wind, to dreary and 40 with howling winds right in their faces for 13 miles. "MWAH HA HA!" mother nature shouted triumphantly. "I've got them now! Their spirit is broken for sure"
But the remaining 2 brave Road Whorriers had one final weapon in their fuel belts. Anger. These ladies got PISSED OFF. They were tired of Mother Nature and achilles tendons and flooded basements, and REALLY mad that they couldn't wear their cute matching outfits because the weather was going to be too cold. And so those 2 battered, yet brave women packed that anger in their suitcases and headed for Dearborn for the final showdown in their quest. You better believe the final battle will be epic. You better believe the final line of this story WILL be "and they lived happily ever after." But you will have to wait 2 days for the final chapter. Wish these 2 Road Whorriers luck. It's been a LONG and BRUTAL journey.
(Not quite) Then End.
.
But alas, this journey was filled with danger at every turn. The first Road Whorrier fell victim to health issues. Much as she tried, she realized that it was just too dangerous to continue on the journey. She bid the other 4 women goodbye and promised to join them on future adventures. And then there were 4.
But peril lurked around the next mile marker. The next Road Whorrier received terrible news about her father, and knew she had to leave quest to go fight a much more important battle. We were all saddened by this tragic turn and wished her well. And then there were 3.
The 3 women continued on their journey, which was getting longer and longer and more and more painful. They decided that the longest part of their journey would take place on Tuesdays. The evil Mother Nature heard their innocent musings and unleashed her fury. Every Tuesday from thence forth was fraught with snow, bitter cold temperatures, ice, and howling winds. Still, the Road Whorriers journeyed on.
But alas, Mother Nature got one of them in the end. Severe ice pushed one brave woman to bring her training indoors to the dreaded treadmill. Sadly, she did not survive. The treadmill injured her foot so badly that she could not continue on such a dangerous quest. And then there were 2.
But the evil marathon villains were not through with these Road Whorriers yet. On the longest and most difficult training run of the journey, Mother Nature declared, "Let there be sustained winds of 30 miles an hour with gusts up to 55!! Mwah ha ha!!!!!!" But the brave women conquered 20 miles that day and thought they had vanquished the evil Mother Nature for good. But danger was still close at hand. The next week one Road Whorrier felt a horrible pain in her achilles. She thought her journey was over. It wasn't, but the pain would be with her for the remainder of the quest. She had to be extra brave. With only days left before the end of the long and perilous journey, Mother Nature rose again and planned one last, double pronged attack. She made the rains come and flood the basement of one brave woman, trying to break her spirit, and force her husband to abandon her to clean up the mess. And to finish off the last 2 brave whorriers for good, she changed the race day weather from sunny and 50 with no wind, to dreary and 40 with howling winds right in their faces for 13 miles. "MWAH HA HA!" mother nature shouted triumphantly. "I've got them now! Their spirit is broken for sure"
But the remaining 2 brave Road Whorriers had one final weapon in their fuel belts. Anger. These ladies got PISSED OFF. They were tired of Mother Nature and achilles tendons and flooded basements, and REALLY mad that they couldn't wear their cute matching outfits because the weather was going to be too cold. And so those 2 battered, yet brave women packed that anger in their suitcases and headed for Dearborn for the final showdown in their quest. You better believe the final battle will be epic. You better believe the final line of this story WILL be "and they lived happily ever after." But you will have to wait 2 days for the final chapter. Wish these 2 Road Whorriers luck. It's been a LONG and BRUTAL journey.
(Not quite) Then End.
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Getting Back in the Saddle Again...
I have not held a paying job in nearly 13 years. Holy Cow. How can that be? I swear just yesterday I was in my classroom at Riverside Brookfield High School teaching European history to my students. Wasn't it just yesterday I was grading essays, planning lessons, and going to sleep exhausted every night? Well, come to think of it, that last one WAS just yesterday, but I digress...
13 years ago Erik and I made the decision that I should stay home following the birth of our baby. I was in my 6th year of teaching and I just loved every minute of it. I knew, however, that part of what made me a great teacher was my ability to put every single bit of myself into my job. It was no problem to get into school at 6AM and leave at 6 or 7 PM. I could stay and tutor kids, go to sporting events, and build great relationships with my students. Time was not an issue, and work was the center of my life. I feared that I wouldn't be able to balance both a job and a newborn, especially since I knew nothing about babies or being a mother, so once again I put all my time and effort into one thing - this time it was motherhood. I was still young, still feeling like I had my whole life ahead of me, and still thinking it would be no big deal to "someday" get back to work. When Jayson was born I figured once he got into first grade I would be able to consider working again.
Well, hoo-ha. That didn't quite work out. Jayson's autism spectrum diagnosis put our lives in a bit of a tailspin and I completely put thoughts of working on the back burner. But you know what? Time marches on. Kids grow up. Even kids with special needs. At 12 and 8, my kids still need me, but they also need to learn to start doing things without me. And the days that they are in school have become more and more unsettling as the years have progressed. Sure I've filled my time with a lot of things - I've taken up running, I'm able to get all my errands run, and I spend 2-3 days a week volunteering at the school. And it's nice to know when the kids get home I'm waiting here with a kiss and a snack, ready to help them with homework, dinner already planned, ready to bring them to sports practice. It has been my world for nearly 13 years, and it's been a nice world - but I think I'm ready to change that world. I'm going to blink and another 13 years will have gone by. My kids will be grown and gone, and who will I be?
But the thought of getting back out there is overwhelming and terrifying. I have none of the confidence I had way back then. I don't own any nice work clothes. Technology is WAY crazier than it was back in 2000. Heck, for all I know kids have microchips implanted in their heads and teachers just download lessons directly into their brains. Last time I taught I used an OVERHEAD PROJECTOR for goodness sake!! Do they even make those anymore? Even applying for jobs has overwhelmed me. Do I consider part time teaching? Subbing? Library? My would be references are long retired, and for awhile I didn't even know if my license was current or even how to go about finding that out. The last time I made a resume (1994!!) I listed my experience at Dairy Queen. Uh, I haven't worked at Dairy Queen in almost 20 years. And if I got a job, how on EARTH would I handle getting Jayson to school? Would I still be able to meet all his needs at home? Would I still be able to handle all the demands of Katy's skating team practices and traveling schedules? I tell you, it's scary. I'm extremely envious of my working mom friends. They have mastered that delicate balance beautifully and I am in awe of them. More and more I want to be like them.
Once upon a time I was a good teacher. It's been a while, and I may not be up on the latest technology, but I have one thing going for me that I didn't have back then - motherhood. I have a very different understanding of kids and their development. I have a VERY different understanding of kids with different learning styles and different social needs. I have a real appreciation for all the stressors that pre teens and teens face these days. I have ten times more patience than I had the last time I taught. And I still have a passionate love for my subject matter. What I don't have is confidence. But I have a very supportive husband and very supportive friends who have begun helping me build that back up. For that I am very grateful.
So, like running, I'm taking it one step at a time. Just yesterday I mustered up my courage and called the Illinois state board of education. What I thought would be an insurmountable task of tracking down my license took all of 5 minutes to solve. There's one mile marker. Next I'm going to complete that hellacious application for District 202 and try to get on their sub list. There's another mile marker, hopefully completed this week. Then I'll tackle the resume - another mile passed. And perhaps I'll even dip my toes in the waters of actual teaching jobs. That would be a very momentous mile marker. Truth be told that last mile might be a little further down the road, but if there's one thing I've learned about myself, it's that I can run pretty far down roads. I'll keep you posted...
13 years ago Erik and I made the decision that I should stay home following the birth of our baby. I was in my 6th year of teaching and I just loved every minute of it. I knew, however, that part of what made me a great teacher was my ability to put every single bit of myself into my job. It was no problem to get into school at 6AM and leave at 6 or 7 PM. I could stay and tutor kids, go to sporting events, and build great relationships with my students. Time was not an issue, and work was the center of my life. I feared that I wouldn't be able to balance both a job and a newborn, especially since I knew nothing about babies or being a mother, so once again I put all my time and effort into one thing - this time it was motherhood. I was still young, still feeling like I had my whole life ahead of me, and still thinking it would be no big deal to "someday" get back to work. When Jayson was born I figured once he got into first grade I would be able to consider working again.
Well, hoo-ha. That didn't quite work out. Jayson's autism spectrum diagnosis put our lives in a bit of a tailspin and I completely put thoughts of working on the back burner. But you know what? Time marches on. Kids grow up. Even kids with special needs. At 12 and 8, my kids still need me, but they also need to learn to start doing things without me. And the days that they are in school have become more and more unsettling as the years have progressed. Sure I've filled my time with a lot of things - I've taken up running, I'm able to get all my errands run, and I spend 2-3 days a week volunteering at the school. And it's nice to know when the kids get home I'm waiting here with a kiss and a snack, ready to help them with homework, dinner already planned, ready to bring them to sports practice. It has been my world for nearly 13 years, and it's been a nice world - but I think I'm ready to change that world. I'm going to blink and another 13 years will have gone by. My kids will be grown and gone, and who will I be?
But the thought of getting back out there is overwhelming and terrifying. I have none of the confidence I had way back then. I don't own any nice work clothes. Technology is WAY crazier than it was back in 2000. Heck, for all I know kids have microchips implanted in their heads and teachers just download lessons directly into their brains. Last time I taught I used an OVERHEAD PROJECTOR for goodness sake!! Do they even make those anymore? Even applying for jobs has overwhelmed me. Do I consider part time teaching? Subbing? Library? My would be references are long retired, and for awhile I didn't even know if my license was current or even how to go about finding that out. The last time I made a resume (1994!!) I listed my experience at Dairy Queen. Uh, I haven't worked at Dairy Queen in almost 20 years. And if I got a job, how on EARTH would I handle getting Jayson to school? Would I still be able to meet all his needs at home? Would I still be able to handle all the demands of Katy's skating team practices and traveling schedules? I tell you, it's scary. I'm extremely envious of my working mom friends. They have mastered that delicate balance beautifully and I am in awe of them. More and more I want to be like them.
Once upon a time I was a good teacher. It's been a while, and I may not be up on the latest technology, but I have one thing going for me that I didn't have back then - motherhood. I have a very different understanding of kids and their development. I have a VERY different understanding of kids with different learning styles and different social needs. I have a real appreciation for all the stressors that pre teens and teens face these days. I have ten times more patience than I had the last time I taught. And I still have a passionate love for my subject matter. What I don't have is confidence. But I have a very supportive husband and very supportive friends who have begun helping me build that back up. For that I am very grateful.
So, like running, I'm taking it one step at a time. Just yesterday I mustered up my courage and called the Illinois state board of education. What I thought would be an insurmountable task of tracking down my license took all of 5 minutes to solve. There's one mile marker. Next I'm going to complete that hellacious application for District 202 and try to get on their sub list. There's another mile marker, hopefully completed this week. Then I'll tackle the resume - another mile passed. And perhaps I'll even dip my toes in the waters of actual teaching jobs. That would be a very momentous mile marker. Truth be told that last mile might be a little further down the road, but if there's one thing I've learned about myself, it's that I can run pretty far down roads. I'll keep you posted...
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
If I Could Turn Back Time...
I try hard not to live my life with any regrets, but I have found myself looking back lately and wishing I had done a few things differently. I don't know if it's because I'm watching Katy hit her teenage years with so much potential and choice ahead of her, or if I'm just old and thinking more about my youth. Whatever the reason, I was thinking about the 5 major things I would change if, in the immortal words of Cher, I could turn back time...
1. I would have cared SO MUCH LESS about what others thought of me in high school and college. I had very little self confidence when I was younger. Like many kids, I tried so hard to fit in and be just like the "popular crowd". It wasn't until I was much older and a high school teacher myself that I really saw how much better it was to be unique and true to yourself. The "popular" kids really had their priorities screwed up and cared very little about anything except their own popularity. The kids who had their own uniqueness were truly neat and grew up to be super confident. I try very hard to impress this message on my daughter. Who cares what everyone else is doing and if you measure up to some arbitrary yard stick? Create your own yardstick.
2. I would have chosen a different college. I got very little guidance on how to choose a good school that fit my needs. My parents took me to tour a few college campuses but no one every really sat down and talked to me about what would be the best fit. I applied to 4 very different schools, with no real rhyme or reason involved. In the end, I chose the school that was closest to home because I was scared to venture too far, and I wanted to be close to my boyfriend, who was still in high school. Lame reasons. I ended up at an urban school in the middle of the bad part of Milwaukee. I had some good times there, and certainly got a great education, but never really felt at home. I left that school with only one very good friend that I keep in contact with to this day. On the plus side, I did marry that high school boyfriend - but that probably would have happened no matter where I went to school.
3. I would have traveled abroad. I have seen so little of the world. I was briefly a Spanish major in college but switched to history because I didn't think my parents would spring for a semester in Spain (a requirement for a teaching license back then). Then when I graduated I was too poor to travel. As a teacher, I had a chance to lead a trip to Europe, but turned it down because I was hoping to have kids soon and didn't want to commit to a trip I might not be able to go on. Now at nearly 41 years old, the money just isn't there for fantastic worldly travel adventures. Like most people, mortgages, college savings, and retirement savings eat up whatever surplus might be left. Hopefully one day I'll be able to see all those places I have learned about and taught about.
4. I would have had a completely different wedding. Thankfully, I would have married the same person, but I would not have had the bloated extravaganza that I was talked into by those around me. I was youngish (24) and still trying to find my footing in adulthood. I still followed the crowd and listened to those around me. As a result, I was bogged down for one year making life or death decisions on caligraphied invitations, centerpieces, bridesmaid dresses, and color schemes. What a colossal waste of time and money. I ended up having a wedding where I didn't even know one quarter of the people in attendance. After 16 years I have the wisdom to understand that the marriage is ten times more important than the wedding. It was a nice party, I guess, but the money Erik and I spent on it would have been used more wisely to help with the house or pay off student loans. 10 years later Erik and I renewed our vows in a very simple, heartfelt ceremony with only our close friends and family in attendance. That day is more special to me than my wedding day.
5. I wouldn't have worried about that stupid C section. When I was 34 weeks pregnant with Jayson he was still in a breech position. I became terrified of a C section and tried everything in my power to avoid it - even resorting to having the doctor try to manually turn the baby at 36 weeks. I will never forget watching her literally grab his head through my belly and squeeze while she tried to turn him. It haunts me to this very day. Not only did the procedure not work, leading me to have a C section anyway, but I will forever wonder if Jayson's issues were the result of that pre-birth trauma. C sections are really no big deal. I wish I had been in a state of mind to understand that at the time.
Thankfully, every decision we make helps us grow as a person. I don't think my life was ruined by any one of those things above. If anything, looking back on my regrets helps me clarify what is important to me and shows me how far I've come. I have talked to Katy about many of these things in hopes that she doesn't make the same "mistakes", but I know that even if she avoids my perceived pitfalls, she will make plenty mistakes of her own. That's okay. The greatest lesson in life is that it's okay to make mistakes, and it's okay not to do everything perfectly. Each day brings a new opportunity to start again.
1. I would have cared SO MUCH LESS about what others thought of me in high school and college. I had very little self confidence when I was younger. Like many kids, I tried so hard to fit in and be just like the "popular crowd". It wasn't until I was much older and a high school teacher myself that I really saw how much better it was to be unique and true to yourself. The "popular" kids really had their priorities screwed up and cared very little about anything except their own popularity. The kids who had their own uniqueness were truly neat and grew up to be super confident. I try very hard to impress this message on my daughter. Who cares what everyone else is doing and if you measure up to some arbitrary yard stick? Create your own yardstick.
2. I would have chosen a different college. I got very little guidance on how to choose a good school that fit my needs. My parents took me to tour a few college campuses but no one every really sat down and talked to me about what would be the best fit. I applied to 4 very different schools, with no real rhyme or reason involved. In the end, I chose the school that was closest to home because I was scared to venture too far, and I wanted to be close to my boyfriend, who was still in high school. Lame reasons. I ended up at an urban school in the middle of the bad part of Milwaukee. I had some good times there, and certainly got a great education, but never really felt at home. I left that school with only one very good friend that I keep in contact with to this day. On the plus side, I did marry that high school boyfriend - but that probably would have happened no matter where I went to school.
3. I would have traveled abroad. I have seen so little of the world. I was briefly a Spanish major in college but switched to history because I didn't think my parents would spring for a semester in Spain (a requirement for a teaching license back then). Then when I graduated I was too poor to travel. As a teacher, I had a chance to lead a trip to Europe, but turned it down because I was hoping to have kids soon and didn't want to commit to a trip I might not be able to go on. Now at nearly 41 years old, the money just isn't there for fantastic worldly travel adventures. Like most people, mortgages, college savings, and retirement savings eat up whatever surplus might be left. Hopefully one day I'll be able to see all those places I have learned about and taught about.
4. I would have had a completely different wedding. Thankfully, I would have married the same person, but I would not have had the bloated extravaganza that I was talked into by those around me. I was youngish (24) and still trying to find my footing in adulthood. I still followed the crowd and listened to those around me. As a result, I was bogged down for one year making life or death decisions on caligraphied invitations, centerpieces, bridesmaid dresses, and color schemes. What a colossal waste of time and money. I ended up having a wedding where I didn't even know one quarter of the people in attendance. After 16 years I have the wisdom to understand that the marriage is ten times more important than the wedding. It was a nice party, I guess, but the money Erik and I spent on it would have been used more wisely to help with the house or pay off student loans. 10 years later Erik and I renewed our vows in a very simple, heartfelt ceremony with only our close friends and family in attendance. That day is more special to me than my wedding day.
5. I wouldn't have worried about that stupid C section. When I was 34 weeks pregnant with Jayson he was still in a breech position. I became terrified of a C section and tried everything in my power to avoid it - even resorting to having the doctor try to manually turn the baby at 36 weeks. I will never forget watching her literally grab his head through my belly and squeeze while she tried to turn him. It haunts me to this very day. Not only did the procedure not work, leading me to have a C section anyway, but I will forever wonder if Jayson's issues were the result of that pre-birth trauma. C sections are really no big deal. I wish I had been in a state of mind to understand that at the time.
Thankfully, every decision we make helps us grow as a person. I don't think my life was ruined by any one of those things above. If anything, looking back on my regrets helps me clarify what is important to me and shows me how far I've come. I have talked to Katy about many of these things in hopes that she doesn't make the same "mistakes", but I know that even if she avoids my perceived pitfalls, she will make plenty mistakes of her own. That's okay. The greatest lesson in life is that it's okay to make mistakes, and it's okay not to do everything perfectly. Each day brings a new opportunity to start again.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Just What I Needed...
As many of you know, it's been a rough month in the Strand house. Sickness struck many of us, putting Erik in the hospital, and taking Jayson out of school for an entire week. Then I went away to a long skating competition and came back sick myself. To say our normal routines are out of whack would be putting it mildly. For some families, a change in routine is really no big deal. For the Strands, a change in routine is devastating to our son - and we have seen the unfortunate effects in the past week or so. Jayson has had a hard time readjusting to going back to school after being off for Christmas break and then another week for illness. He has been even more unfocused than usual, has shown rare misbehavior, and has not been able to keep up in math, his best subject. On more than one occasion he has uttered "I hate school and I hate learning new things". At home he is emotional and angers more quickly than usual.
I tend to panic when Jayson gets into these moods, even though I've seen them before and they are usually short lived. These periods are often a kick in the gut to me because it greatly magnifies all of his issues related to his autism - usually just when I'm letting some hope and optimism creep into my life about his future. You see, Jayson was having a VERY successful school year up until about 2 weeks ago. My rational mind knows he's just reacting to all the changes that have happened here at home this month, but my heart breaks to see all his struggles magnified during this time. And because I tend to be a worrier, I start to panic about his future and his ability to make it in the world at large.
And then, lo and behold, I see post on a friend's facebook page yesterday. Her friend wrote an article for an Autism website called Natural Learning Concepts (http://www.nlconcepts.com/) called "Top Ten Reason Why People With Autism Rock". As I read the article I realized not only was Jayson going to be okay, he was going to be more than okay. You see, the article showed me that instead of worrying about Jayson, perhaps I should worry a little more about myself. Almost all the positive qualities that the author lists in the article are qualities that I really need to work on in my own life. Sometimes I need that reminder that autism is not always such a bad thing. The rest of us can learn ALOT from people on the spectrum.
So I've copied the article and web address below. Please take the time to read it. Hopefully it will make you appreciate people on the spectrum more, and make you think about yourself. It did for me. It also helped me to take a deep breath about all his current behaviors. This will pass. It always does. Our routines are slowly getting back to normal and so will Jayson. And, as the article below shows, Jayson's "normal" is a actually a wonderful thing. Enjoy...
http://www.nlconcepts.com/article-10-reasons-why-people-with-autism-rock.html
Ten Reasons Why People with Autism Rock
1. People on the autism spectrum don't play mind games
Sarah: “I'm going to have a cozy day at home honey, but whatever you decide to do is fine.”
Mike: “Great. I think I'll head on over to Greg's house to watch the game and have a few beers.”
Sarah: “Fine! You might as well sleep over there too since the locks will be changed by the time you get home.” (Exits room and slams door)
Mike: (Frowning, confused and totally nonplussed) “What the..?”
Typical people are often masterful at saying one thing, while meaning the opposite. It's a game that most of us hate but we play it anyway. Consistently needing to read between the lines can be emotionally exhausting. Why is it so difficult for most of us to simply say it straight? People on the autism spectrum don't play these mind games. They tell it like it is and it's remarkably refreshing to be in their company. They don't expect you to play these games either. They mean what they say, and expect you do too. That's right! They'll take what you say at face value, without secretly doubting or disbelieving your word. What a great characteristic!
2. People on the autism spectrum are not interested in “looking good”
Many of us have an unconscious need to impress others. The clothes we wear, the topics we talk about, and even the careers we pick are often influenced by what others might think of us. People on the autism spectrum tend to do what makes them happy. If those ugly red shoes provide great comfort, then so be it. If reading children's comics make them laugh like a little kid, that's what they'll do. They're not about to feign interest in some philosophical argument just because it might make them look good. They're not interested in keeping up with the neighbors or buying the new “in thing” because that's what everyone is doing. They are who they are and that is that! This makes them genuine, sincere people who are unique and fascinating to be around.
3. People on the autism spectrum maintain an innocence about them
Many people on the autism spectrum have an uncanny ability to maintain the innocence of a little kid. They are captivated by the small things in life and are likely to be far more impressed by a leaf blowing haphazardly in the wind, than by the worldly possessions someone is flaunting in front of them. Foreigners to deception, they believe every word you say and this characteristic leaves them as gullible and naïve as a child. They don't look for hidden meanings and even if they did, they are unlikely to find them. They accept the world at face value, often delighting in the beauty around them.
4. People on the autism spectrum are honest
Since deception is not part of their makeup, people on the autism spectrum hardly ever tell a lie. One might even say they are honest to a fault. People on the autism spectrum will call it as they see it. If you want the truth, you know who to go to but be prepared for a brutally honest answer. Most of this population has never perfected the art of a white lie. They typically do not cheat or steal and remain remarkably in integrity. Most often people on the autism spectrum are valued friends who are honest, forthright and one hundred percent loyal.
5. People on the autism spectrum delight in the moment
For many of us, the book we found fascinating in college wore off pretty fast. The jingle that first made us laugh drove us crazy 20 minutes later. The first sunset we witnessed captivated our heart but years later we put on sunglasses and barely notice it. Sadly, it doesn't take much for us to become blasé about the world around us. Most people on the autism spectrum are just the opposite! The joke that had them in stitches a month ago has the same effect on them today. The light reflecting off the glass window has them just as mesmerized as they first time they saw it. The color of the sky after a summer storm fills them with wonder each and every time. Perhaps because they are so sensory aware, they possess the talent of delighting in the small moments of life. One thing is for sure, their enthusiasm for life is contagious and it's great to be in their presence.
6. People on the autism spectrum have an intense ability to focus
While the rest of the world is socializing, many people on the autism spectrum are pursuing their interest with frenzy. There are no limits to the amount of time and effort they will dedicate to their passion, and they possess a unique ability to filter out the rest of the world while doing so. This intense focus and attention to detail enables them to master a subject or skill, which is often a great asset to the workforce. Temple Grandin says that if we eradicate autism from the world, we'll also be depriving ourselves of all the great gadgets and technology we enjoy, such as software programs, computer chips, video technology and the likes. While many of these inventors and pioneers might not be diagnosed with autism, many of them certainly possess autistic traits and the ability to focus intensely on their subject of interest.
7. People on the autism spectrum don't gossip
You know those people who are always talking behind your back? You can be sure they are not on the autism spectrum. People on the spectrum do not indulge in gossip. In fact the whole thing goes right over the top of their head. And as for all those private smirks and eye contact people surreptitiously engage in during a public exchange, you can bet your spectrum friend will never do that to you. If your spectrum friend has something to say, he'll either say it directly or keep it to himself. Blabbing about it to other people is completely foreign to his nature.
8. People with autism are not judgmental
Wouldn't it be great if people could just accept you as you are? The answer is to befriend someone on the autism spectrum. People with autism concentrate on the matter at hand. When they're listening to you speak, this is where they maintain their focus. They won't be furtively judging you on your clothes, your level of success, the color of your skin or how well you play baseball. If Jim tells his autism spectrum friend that he likes eating burgers from McDonalds, his friend thinks “Jim likes eating burgers from McDonalds.” He doesn't judge Jim based on his eating preferences or secretly concludes that Jim has poor eating habits, and is in need of an education on the food pyramid. The same holds true when a person on the spectrum encounters someone, who, let’s say for example has pink hair. There is no judgment about what type of personality this person must have or the background they must have come from. They simply acknowledge the presence of pink hair and move on. The ability to abstain from jumping to conclusions about people based on their appearance, career or some other aspect is admirable, and we have much to learn from our friends with autism in this department.
9. People on the autism spectrum make great employees
Many people on the autism spectrum make great employees with admirable work ethics. They are typically creatures of habit. They arrive at exactly the same time every day and never leave early. They wouldn't dream of taking extended lunch breaks and you won't find them socializing at the coffee machine. They're more likely to be working studiously at their desk. Many of us balk at the routine aspects of our job and overlook the small details we should pay attention to. But this is often an area of strength for those on the spectrum, who are masterful at paying attention to detail. They are honest and loyal workers, who certainly don't enjoy job hopping and are typically committed and dedicated to their place of employment.
10. People with autism have a unique perspective
People with autism have a unique way of communicating and a fascinating perspective. Many are capable of such a diverse range of exceptional abilities. If you take the time to look, you'll find that the amount we can learn from them is quite staggering. Because people with autism have such a different way of thinking and being, they can contribute greatly to us, the workforce and to how we view life. If you are lucky enough to be close to someone on the autism spectrum, you will know firsthand that not only do they see the world from a different angle, but they have changed your perspective too and instilled in you a sense of compassion you never knew you were capable of feeling.
To all of you out there who are on the autism spectrum...You Rock!
I tend to panic when Jayson gets into these moods, even though I've seen them before and they are usually short lived. These periods are often a kick in the gut to me because it greatly magnifies all of his issues related to his autism - usually just when I'm letting some hope and optimism creep into my life about his future. You see, Jayson was having a VERY successful school year up until about 2 weeks ago. My rational mind knows he's just reacting to all the changes that have happened here at home this month, but my heart breaks to see all his struggles magnified during this time. And because I tend to be a worrier, I start to panic about his future and his ability to make it in the world at large.
And then, lo and behold, I see post on a friend's facebook page yesterday. Her friend wrote an article for an Autism website called Natural Learning Concepts (http://www.nlconcepts.com/) called "Top Ten Reason Why People With Autism Rock". As I read the article I realized not only was Jayson going to be okay, he was going to be more than okay. You see, the article showed me that instead of worrying about Jayson, perhaps I should worry a little more about myself. Almost all the positive qualities that the author lists in the article are qualities that I really need to work on in my own life. Sometimes I need that reminder that autism is not always such a bad thing. The rest of us can learn ALOT from people on the spectrum.
So I've copied the article and web address below. Please take the time to read it. Hopefully it will make you appreciate people on the spectrum more, and make you think about yourself. It did for me. It also helped me to take a deep breath about all his current behaviors. This will pass. It always does. Our routines are slowly getting back to normal and so will Jayson. And, as the article below shows, Jayson's "normal" is a actually a wonderful thing. Enjoy...
http://www.nlconcepts.com/article-10-reasons-why-people-with-autism-rock.html
Ten Reasons Why People with Autism Rock
1. People on the autism spectrum don't play mind games
Sarah: “I'm going to have a cozy day at home honey, but whatever you decide to do is fine.”
Mike: “Great. I think I'll head on over to Greg's house to watch the game and have a few beers.”
Sarah: “Fine! You might as well sleep over there too since the locks will be changed by the time you get home.” (Exits room and slams door)
Mike: (Frowning, confused and totally nonplussed) “What the..?”
Typical people are often masterful at saying one thing, while meaning the opposite. It's a game that most of us hate but we play it anyway. Consistently needing to read between the lines can be emotionally exhausting. Why is it so difficult for most of us to simply say it straight? People on the autism spectrum don't play these mind games. They tell it like it is and it's remarkably refreshing to be in their company. They don't expect you to play these games either. They mean what they say, and expect you do too. That's right! They'll take what you say at face value, without secretly doubting or disbelieving your word. What a great characteristic!
2. People on the autism spectrum are not interested in “looking good”
Many of us have an unconscious need to impress others. The clothes we wear, the topics we talk about, and even the careers we pick are often influenced by what others might think of us. People on the autism spectrum tend to do what makes them happy. If those ugly red shoes provide great comfort, then so be it. If reading children's comics make them laugh like a little kid, that's what they'll do. They're not about to feign interest in some philosophical argument just because it might make them look good. They're not interested in keeping up with the neighbors or buying the new “in thing” because that's what everyone is doing. They are who they are and that is that! This makes them genuine, sincere people who are unique and fascinating to be around.
3. People on the autism spectrum maintain an innocence about them
Many people on the autism spectrum have an uncanny ability to maintain the innocence of a little kid. They are captivated by the small things in life and are likely to be far more impressed by a leaf blowing haphazardly in the wind, than by the worldly possessions someone is flaunting in front of them. Foreigners to deception, they believe every word you say and this characteristic leaves them as gullible and naïve as a child. They don't look for hidden meanings and even if they did, they are unlikely to find them. They accept the world at face value, often delighting in the beauty around them.
4. People on the autism spectrum are honest
Since deception is not part of their makeup, people on the autism spectrum hardly ever tell a lie. One might even say they are honest to a fault. People on the autism spectrum will call it as they see it. If you want the truth, you know who to go to but be prepared for a brutally honest answer. Most of this population has never perfected the art of a white lie. They typically do not cheat or steal and remain remarkably in integrity. Most often people on the autism spectrum are valued friends who are honest, forthright and one hundred percent loyal.
5. People on the autism spectrum delight in the moment
For many of us, the book we found fascinating in college wore off pretty fast. The jingle that first made us laugh drove us crazy 20 minutes later. The first sunset we witnessed captivated our heart but years later we put on sunglasses and barely notice it. Sadly, it doesn't take much for us to become blasé about the world around us. Most people on the autism spectrum are just the opposite! The joke that had them in stitches a month ago has the same effect on them today. The light reflecting off the glass window has them just as mesmerized as they first time they saw it. The color of the sky after a summer storm fills them with wonder each and every time. Perhaps because they are so sensory aware, they possess the talent of delighting in the small moments of life. One thing is for sure, their enthusiasm for life is contagious and it's great to be in their presence.
6. People on the autism spectrum have an intense ability to focus
While the rest of the world is socializing, many people on the autism spectrum are pursuing their interest with frenzy. There are no limits to the amount of time and effort they will dedicate to their passion, and they possess a unique ability to filter out the rest of the world while doing so. This intense focus and attention to detail enables them to master a subject or skill, which is often a great asset to the workforce. Temple Grandin says that if we eradicate autism from the world, we'll also be depriving ourselves of all the great gadgets and technology we enjoy, such as software programs, computer chips, video technology and the likes. While many of these inventors and pioneers might not be diagnosed with autism, many of them certainly possess autistic traits and the ability to focus intensely on their subject of interest.
7. People on the autism spectrum don't gossip
You know those people who are always talking behind your back? You can be sure they are not on the autism spectrum. People on the spectrum do not indulge in gossip. In fact the whole thing goes right over the top of their head. And as for all those private smirks and eye contact people surreptitiously engage in during a public exchange, you can bet your spectrum friend will never do that to you. If your spectrum friend has something to say, he'll either say it directly or keep it to himself. Blabbing about it to other people is completely foreign to his nature.
8. People with autism are not judgmental
Wouldn't it be great if people could just accept you as you are? The answer is to befriend someone on the autism spectrum. People with autism concentrate on the matter at hand. When they're listening to you speak, this is where they maintain their focus. They won't be furtively judging you on your clothes, your level of success, the color of your skin or how well you play baseball. If Jim tells his autism spectrum friend that he likes eating burgers from McDonalds, his friend thinks “Jim likes eating burgers from McDonalds.” He doesn't judge Jim based on his eating preferences or secretly concludes that Jim has poor eating habits, and is in need of an education on the food pyramid. The same holds true when a person on the spectrum encounters someone, who, let’s say for example has pink hair. There is no judgment about what type of personality this person must have or the background they must have come from. They simply acknowledge the presence of pink hair and move on. The ability to abstain from jumping to conclusions about people based on their appearance, career or some other aspect is admirable, and we have much to learn from our friends with autism in this department.
9. People on the autism spectrum make great employees
Many people on the autism spectrum make great employees with admirable work ethics. They are typically creatures of habit. They arrive at exactly the same time every day and never leave early. They wouldn't dream of taking extended lunch breaks and you won't find them socializing at the coffee machine. They're more likely to be working studiously at their desk. Many of us balk at the routine aspects of our job and overlook the small details we should pay attention to. But this is often an area of strength for those on the spectrum, who are masterful at paying attention to detail. They are honest and loyal workers, who certainly don't enjoy job hopping and are typically committed and dedicated to their place of employment.
10. People with autism have a unique perspective
People with autism have a unique way of communicating and a fascinating perspective. Many are capable of such a diverse range of exceptional abilities. If you take the time to look, you'll find that the amount we can learn from them is quite staggering. Because people with autism have such a different way of thinking and being, they can contribute greatly to us, the workforce and to how we view life. If you are lucky enough to be close to someone on the autism spectrum, you will know firsthand that not only do they see the world from a different angle, but they have changed your perspective too and instilled in you a sense of compassion you never knew you were capable of feeling.
To all of you out there who are on the autism spectrum...You Rock!
Friday, January 18, 2013
Things I Have Learned in the last 36 Hours
It has been a hellacious week at my house. Both Erik and Jayson became sick last Saturday night and suffered from some kind of virus for the next 5 days. Jayson missed a week of school and Erik missed a week of work. I thought things couldn't get any worse. They did. But they also didn't. Here is what I have learned - hope some of it sticks with you in case you (God Forbid) ever need it:
1. Viruses can turn. It doesn't matter if you are young, strong, and healthy. Erik is one of the strongest men I know. He doesn't smoke, he eats well, he exercises, and generally takes care of himself. Right now he is sitting in the hospital with acute pneumonia. 24 hours after being admitted we are just now getting a clearer picture of how sick he was, and how very close he was to having his story turn out a VERY different way. I thought I was shaken up yesterday on the ambulance ride to the hospital - I'm more shaken up now knowing how close I came to losing him. Don't mess around with possible pneumonia. Please.
2. Be forever thankful for your friends and family. I don't know what I would do without them. 2 of my friends had my back in about 10 minutes from when I made that first phone call from the ER, and soon many others joined in. My kids were taken care of, I was being prayed for hard, wonderful doctors were suggested, plans were rearranged to help get my daughter through a skating competition, and a wonderful meal appeared on my doorstep to get us through the weekend. God Bless all of you - truly. I'm so close to falling apart and I'm convinced it's everyone's support that's keeping it at bay.
3. Don't be complacent. 16 years ago Erik had cancer and beat it - beat it soundly. We haven't thought about it in a LONG time. Yesterday a radiologist in the ER, being overly cautious about what he was seeing on the chest x ray, made some comments about a possible return of the cancer, throwing us into an absolutely terrifying tailspin. In all honesty, the last time I remember having that instant "I'm going to throw up" feeling was when I was told my son had autism. I hate that feeling. I don't ever want that feeling ever again. Many doctors have consulted with us in the last 24 hours. Tests have been run. It is much more likely the spots on the X ray were due to the pneumonia. There is really no indication of the cancer's return upon further study. We aren't nearly as scared about that as we were yesterday. Now we are freaked out about the severity of the pneumonia. Don't become complacent. Things can turn on a dime. I've heard more stories in the last 24 hours of how things could go wrong.
4. Priorities. In one swift instant nothing else mattered. Nothing. I hate that it takes something like this to clear all the bullsh** from my brain. Erik too. We both had a long talk today about what needs to take precedence in our minds and bodies. Color us both sufficiently scared into change.
5. My husband is the center of my universe. Without him I am lost. Thank you, God, for letting him remain with me. I cherish every single second.
1. Viruses can turn. It doesn't matter if you are young, strong, and healthy. Erik is one of the strongest men I know. He doesn't smoke, he eats well, he exercises, and generally takes care of himself. Right now he is sitting in the hospital with acute pneumonia. 24 hours after being admitted we are just now getting a clearer picture of how sick he was, and how very close he was to having his story turn out a VERY different way. I thought I was shaken up yesterday on the ambulance ride to the hospital - I'm more shaken up now knowing how close I came to losing him. Don't mess around with possible pneumonia. Please.
2. Be forever thankful for your friends and family. I don't know what I would do without them. 2 of my friends had my back in about 10 minutes from when I made that first phone call from the ER, and soon many others joined in. My kids were taken care of, I was being prayed for hard, wonderful doctors were suggested, plans were rearranged to help get my daughter through a skating competition, and a wonderful meal appeared on my doorstep to get us through the weekend. God Bless all of you - truly. I'm so close to falling apart and I'm convinced it's everyone's support that's keeping it at bay.
3. Don't be complacent. 16 years ago Erik had cancer and beat it - beat it soundly. We haven't thought about it in a LONG time. Yesterday a radiologist in the ER, being overly cautious about what he was seeing on the chest x ray, made some comments about a possible return of the cancer, throwing us into an absolutely terrifying tailspin. In all honesty, the last time I remember having that instant "I'm going to throw up" feeling was when I was told my son had autism. I hate that feeling. I don't ever want that feeling ever again. Many doctors have consulted with us in the last 24 hours. Tests have been run. It is much more likely the spots on the X ray were due to the pneumonia. There is really no indication of the cancer's return upon further study. We aren't nearly as scared about that as we were yesterday. Now we are freaked out about the severity of the pneumonia. Don't become complacent. Things can turn on a dime. I've heard more stories in the last 24 hours of how things could go wrong.
4. Priorities. In one swift instant nothing else mattered. Nothing. I hate that it takes something like this to clear all the bullsh** from my brain. Erik too. We both had a long talk today about what needs to take precedence in our minds and bodies. Color us both sufficiently scared into change.
5. My husband is the center of my universe. Without him I am lost. Thank you, God, for letting him remain with me. I cherish every single second.
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Failure - It's A Good Thing...
Why are we parents so afraid to let our kids fail? Why do we fear mediocrity? Why do we often have this compulsive need to always give our kids a leg up? I've been wrestling with this question on many different levels lately with regards to both of my children, but this past weekend provided a wonderful example of why it's more than OK to let our children experience (gasp) not being the best at everything they do.
As many of you know, Katy is a figure skater. She's not a great one, but she's also not a terrible one. Figure skating is full of drama - most of which, sadly, is provided by the parents. I find this to be true in any sport, really. For whatever reason, my generation tends to have this obsessive need to make sure our kids are "always on the best team". We start them in a sport earlier and earlier (soon there will be fetus leagues), and as soon possible some of us rush to put them on the coveted TRAVEL TEAM. God forbid we let them waste away on the lowly park district recreational team. And if our kids aren't chosen for those teams, or we think our kids are just so darn fantastic that they shouldn't be on the travel team, we simply quit that particular organization and form a new one. And sports never end - there is winter soccer and winter baseball and indoor track and thus any sport can be done all year long. I'll be curious to watch our kids as they get older to see how many of them burn out, or worse, get seriously injured from the rigorous training we put them through. Now, I can already hear the indignant retorts of many of you, so let me assure you that I am not immune to the draw of youth sports. My son will soon be a 3 sport kid - karate, football, and baseball. He is happy as a clam on those rec teams, however, and we have Jayson in sports for different reasons than most parents so I feel like I can give myself a pass with him.
But I CONSTANTLY have to keep myself in check with my daughter. Katy started skating when she was in first grade, mainly because her entire rec soccer team went over to travel and Erik and I just weren't ready to make that leap. We signed her up for lessons and laced up the rental skates. For 2 years she happily moved along in skate school. It wasn't a huge time commitment and it wasn't really that expensive. Then one day someone asked if Katy wanted to try the Synchronized Skating team. I had never even heard of such a thing but it was a relatively cheap beginner team and she seemed to like it during the tryouts. She had a great time that year and we happily stayed in our oblivious bubble, not really understanding how crazy this sport could become. As time wore on, the reality of the sport hit us. In order to be "successful" in individual figure skating, you better be prepared to spend gobs of money, and put your child on the ice for hours each day. This was not going to happen with Katy. Not only could we not afford it, but I was weary of the time commitment. So we decided team synchro skating was the route to go. We loved the fact that she could make tons of friends, and we felt is was a cheaper way of enjoying the sport of ice skating. But like any other sport, not all teams were seen as equal. And you had "pay to play" so to speak.
But at the end of that year, most of the girls in her team organization left to go more successful teams. Katy's program never had a great reputation and the girls and parents were sick of losing. A small core of us decided to stick around and see if we could help the new coach build a program. I'd love to say we did this out of selflessness and a good heart, but really most of us just couldn't afford to go to the glitzier teams. And so for the next two years, Katy's synchro team finished at or near the bottom in every competition. It was hard to watch. At the end of every year more girls would leave to go to more successful teams, but still some of us stayed, this time because our girls had become very close friends. And although our girls didn't like losing, they chose the friendships thay had found over the medals they could probably get elsewhere. And in the mean time, they continued to practice, continued to try to improve themselves, and continued to learn that life doesn't end if you come in last place. And as high and mighty as I may sound (I'm really trying hard not to), I will totally admit that I thought about leaving at the end of every year - it was my daughter who insisted on staying.
But after 2 long years of relative failure, a funny thing happened. The coaches continued to build the program at the lower levels, and the higher level girls kept the bulk of their team together. They continued to practice, and continued to work hard, and they grew up and became a little stronger. The coaches encouraged them to work on invidual skills and most of us parents tried our hardest to make that happen without breaking the bank. All along the way the girls became even better friends, and the parents grew closer as well. In our own weird way, we had become a family of sorts (wildly dysfunctional, but what family isn't? lol.) Losing didn't bother us any more. And you know what? That's when the team started winning. This year the girls have earned their very first medals in synchro skating, and this past weekend brought their first ever Gold. You could have knocked those girls over with a feather when their coach showed them those medals - us parents as well. Years of "failure" only made their success sweeter. And along the way our girls learned valuable lessons - it's OK not to be the best, you can still find fun in sports when you don't win, and there is joy to be found in all your experienes - even if those experiences don't end successfully.
I suspect next year these girls will be competing on a different level since many of them are getting older. I could be wrong, and I hope I am, but I think it's likely they will find themselves out of medal contention next year as they get used to new levels and new skating skills. But regardless of what next year brings, I am confident they will enjoy themselves whether they come in first place or last place. So it's fun to watch them bask in the glow of gold right now, but it's even nicer to know they don't need it. We parents (me included) need to remember that...
As many of you know, Katy is a figure skater. She's not a great one, but she's also not a terrible one. Figure skating is full of drama - most of which, sadly, is provided by the parents. I find this to be true in any sport, really. For whatever reason, my generation tends to have this obsessive need to make sure our kids are "always on the best team". We start them in a sport earlier and earlier (soon there will be fetus leagues), and as soon possible some of us rush to put them on the coveted TRAVEL TEAM. God forbid we let them waste away on the lowly park district recreational team. And if our kids aren't chosen for those teams, or we think our kids are just so darn fantastic that they shouldn't be on the travel team, we simply quit that particular organization and form a new one. And sports never end - there is winter soccer and winter baseball and indoor track and thus any sport can be done all year long. I'll be curious to watch our kids as they get older to see how many of them burn out, or worse, get seriously injured from the rigorous training we put them through. Now, I can already hear the indignant retorts of many of you, so let me assure you that I am not immune to the draw of youth sports. My son will soon be a 3 sport kid - karate, football, and baseball. He is happy as a clam on those rec teams, however, and we have Jayson in sports for different reasons than most parents so I feel like I can give myself a pass with him.
But I CONSTANTLY have to keep myself in check with my daughter. Katy started skating when she was in first grade, mainly because her entire rec soccer team went over to travel and Erik and I just weren't ready to make that leap. We signed her up for lessons and laced up the rental skates. For 2 years she happily moved along in skate school. It wasn't a huge time commitment and it wasn't really that expensive. Then one day someone asked if Katy wanted to try the Synchronized Skating team. I had never even heard of such a thing but it was a relatively cheap beginner team and she seemed to like it during the tryouts. She had a great time that year and we happily stayed in our oblivious bubble, not really understanding how crazy this sport could become. As time wore on, the reality of the sport hit us. In order to be "successful" in individual figure skating, you better be prepared to spend gobs of money, and put your child on the ice for hours each day. This was not going to happen with Katy. Not only could we not afford it, but I was weary of the time commitment. So we decided team synchro skating was the route to go. We loved the fact that she could make tons of friends, and we felt is was a cheaper way of enjoying the sport of ice skating. But like any other sport, not all teams were seen as equal. And you had "pay to play" so to speak.
But at the end of that year, most of the girls in her team organization left to go more successful teams. Katy's program never had a great reputation and the girls and parents were sick of losing. A small core of us decided to stick around and see if we could help the new coach build a program. I'd love to say we did this out of selflessness and a good heart, but really most of us just couldn't afford to go to the glitzier teams. And so for the next two years, Katy's synchro team finished at or near the bottom in every competition. It was hard to watch. At the end of every year more girls would leave to go to more successful teams, but still some of us stayed, this time because our girls had become very close friends. And although our girls didn't like losing, they chose the friendships thay had found over the medals they could probably get elsewhere. And in the mean time, they continued to practice, continued to try to improve themselves, and continued to learn that life doesn't end if you come in last place. And as high and mighty as I may sound (I'm really trying hard not to), I will totally admit that I thought about leaving at the end of every year - it was my daughter who insisted on staying.
But after 2 long years of relative failure, a funny thing happened. The coaches continued to build the program at the lower levels, and the higher level girls kept the bulk of their team together. They continued to practice, and continued to work hard, and they grew up and became a little stronger. The coaches encouraged them to work on invidual skills and most of us parents tried our hardest to make that happen without breaking the bank. All along the way the girls became even better friends, and the parents grew closer as well. In our own weird way, we had become a family of sorts (wildly dysfunctional, but what family isn't? lol.) Losing didn't bother us any more. And you know what? That's when the team started winning. This year the girls have earned their very first medals in synchro skating, and this past weekend brought their first ever Gold. You could have knocked those girls over with a feather when their coach showed them those medals - us parents as well. Years of "failure" only made their success sweeter. And along the way our girls learned valuable lessons - it's OK not to be the best, you can still find fun in sports when you don't win, and there is joy to be found in all your experienes - even if those experiences don't end successfully.
I suspect next year these girls will be competing on a different level since many of them are getting older. I could be wrong, and I hope I am, but I think it's likely they will find themselves out of medal contention next year as they get used to new levels and new skating skills. But regardless of what next year brings, I am confident they will enjoy themselves whether they come in first place or last place. So it's fun to watch them bask in the glow of gold right now, but it's even nicer to know they don't need it. We parents (me included) need to remember that...
Friday, November 30, 2012
It Takes a Village
We've all heard the phrase, "It takes a village to raise a child". It's been thrown around for quite a few years now, started way back when by (I believe) Hillary Clinton. Never has this been more true than for my child, Jayson.
Every village has a leader, so I guess Erik and I qualify for that position in Jayson's life. We aren't perfect by any means (most leaders aren't), but we have good intentions and do our very best to guide Jayson. It's not easy. There are days when the responsibility is overwhelming and the problems seem insurmountable. That's when I'm so very grateful for the other villagers in Jayson's life.
Jayson's school is full of helpful villagers. I can't even begin to list all them and how they help and shape him - but here's just a few: It's his third grade teacher, who spends a ton of extra time figuring out how he learns best, and then calls me to help put plans into place for him. This same teacher calls me every once in awhile, giddy with excitement, when Jayson does well. I know she's a big cheerleader for him and that warms my heart. It's also the aide, who patiently redirects him when his attention wanders, and takes all his idiosyncrasies in stride. This same woman is trying desperately to put herself out of a job by making him more independent and responsible for his own organization. It's the speech pathologist and social worker, who see Jayson every week and continue to work on his social skills, grabbing me every chance they get in the school hallway to tell me how much they love spending time with him. It's the principal, who has sat in on nearly every IEP meeting with me and my husband, truly doing her best to make sure he gets all the supports he needs, and also stepping in when she thinks he's being bullied. It's the library workers, who always have a smile for him and treat him so kindly. It's the occupational therapist, who started on just as a consult, but thought perhaps there was something more she could do for Jayson so she asked my permission to test him and then decided to take him on for more in depth therapy - mind you, her schedule of students was already packed to the gills. It's the gym teacher who brought the Wii to school and introduced Jayson to "Just Dance", bringing happiness to his life and some wiggle in his booty. It's the music teacher, who gave him a tryout for a speaking role in the concert (he didn't get it this year, but maybe next year). It's all the teachers and aides in the past who have cheered him on and always have a smile for him in the halls. And it's the special kids who go out of their way for Jayson, asking the teacher if they can be his partner or help him when he has trouble. Even better, it's the kids who don't go out of their way for Jayson - they just treat him like any other normal third grader, talking about sports or playing tag or eating lunch with him.
And there's plenty of villagers to be found outside of school. There's his karate Sensei, a large man who could kill me with his thumbs, who has taught Jayson karate since he was 5 years old. He has the patience of a saint and has worked absolute miracles with Jayson's focusing skills. It's the football coach that knew right away that Jayson wasn't going to be a star player, but made sure he had a terrific experience at every practice and game. It's Erik's friend, Tyler, who owns deer hunting land down state, and often invites Erik and Jayson down for some "guy time", know how much Jayson LOVES climbing into the deer blinds and target shooting with bb guns. It's everyone at our church, who have known Jayson since he was born, and have accepted him without judgement, providing him with such a comfortable environment that he FINALLY has started going to Sunday school and has even shown interest in taking his First Communion. It's the families of all the girls on my daughter's skating team, who see him at the rink and even stay overnight with him at competitions, who readily accept him and never give him strange looks. It's their sons, who swim with him at the hotels we stay at, and provide such wonderful social models. It's my good friends, some of whom understand better than others what it's like to struggle with a child who is "different", who make him AND me feel relaxed and accepted. It's my neighbor's son, a high schooler, who knows Jayson idolizes him and always takes time out of his very busy schedule to spend time with him, or just say hello. Actually, it's all three of my neighbor's kids, who have never given off the vibe that they don't want him around - they always include him and accept him. And it's my family, who through the years have supported him and rooted for him at every single turn. I used to get frustrated with my family, who used to insist on how normal Jayson was. I always wanted to scream "No!! Stop pretending like everything is OK!!". But now I'm so very grateful for their attitudes. I never have to worry about what Jayson will say (or not say), or do (or not do) around my family. They always provide unconditional acceptance.
I'm sure I'm forgetting plenty of villagers, but Jayson is so blessed to have every single one of them in his life. It is because of them that he is doing so well, and growing up to be such a neat boy. Jayson's village is raising him up and guiding him well. There have been (and will be) many times when some villagers try to bring Jayson down. But thankfully those villagers are in the minority, vastly outnumbered by those who go out of their way to make him succeed.
And let's not forget that we are ALL villagers in each others lives. Our actions and words have profound effects on everyone around us. What kind of citizens do we want to be? Let's be productive ones. Let's all do our best to raise each other up, instead of tearing each other down. It takes a village to raise a child, but it takes all kinds to make a village. Let's make our villages great ones.
Every village has a leader, so I guess Erik and I qualify for that position in Jayson's life. We aren't perfect by any means (most leaders aren't), but we have good intentions and do our very best to guide Jayson. It's not easy. There are days when the responsibility is overwhelming and the problems seem insurmountable. That's when I'm so very grateful for the other villagers in Jayson's life.
Jayson's school is full of helpful villagers. I can't even begin to list all them and how they help and shape him - but here's just a few: It's his third grade teacher, who spends a ton of extra time figuring out how he learns best, and then calls me to help put plans into place for him. This same teacher calls me every once in awhile, giddy with excitement, when Jayson does well. I know she's a big cheerleader for him and that warms my heart. It's also the aide, who patiently redirects him when his attention wanders, and takes all his idiosyncrasies in stride. This same woman is trying desperately to put herself out of a job by making him more independent and responsible for his own organization. It's the speech pathologist and social worker, who see Jayson every week and continue to work on his social skills, grabbing me every chance they get in the school hallway to tell me how much they love spending time with him. It's the principal, who has sat in on nearly every IEP meeting with me and my husband, truly doing her best to make sure he gets all the supports he needs, and also stepping in when she thinks he's being bullied. It's the library workers, who always have a smile for him and treat him so kindly. It's the occupational therapist, who started on just as a consult, but thought perhaps there was something more she could do for Jayson so she asked my permission to test him and then decided to take him on for more in depth therapy - mind you, her schedule of students was already packed to the gills. It's the gym teacher who brought the Wii to school and introduced Jayson to "Just Dance", bringing happiness to his life and some wiggle in his booty. It's the music teacher, who gave him a tryout for a speaking role in the concert (he didn't get it this year, but maybe next year). It's all the teachers and aides in the past who have cheered him on and always have a smile for him in the halls. And it's the special kids who go out of their way for Jayson, asking the teacher if they can be his partner or help him when he has trouble. Even better, it's the kids who don't go out of their way for Jayson - they just treat him like any other normal third grader, talking about sports or playing tag or eating lunch with him.
And there's plenty of villagers to be found outside of school. There's his karate Sensei, a large man who could kill me with his thumbs, who has taught Jayson karate since he was 5 years old. He has the patience of a saint and has worked absolute miracles with Jayson's focusing skills. It's the football coach that knew right away that Jayson wasn't going to be a star player, but made sure he had a terrific experience at every practice and game. It's Erik's friend, Tyler, who owns deer hunting land down state, and often invites Erik and Jayson down for some "guy time", know how much Jayson LOVES climbing into the deer blinds and target shooting with bb guns. It's everyone at our church, who have known Jayson since he was born, and have accepted him without judgement, providing him with such a comfortable environment that he FINALLY has started going to Sunday school and has even shown interest in taking his First Communion. It's the families of all the girls on my daughter's skating team, who see him at the rink and even stay overnight with him at competitions, who readily accept him and never give him strange looks. It's their sons, who swim with him at the hotels we stay at, and provide such wonderful social models. It's my good friends, some of whom understand better than others what it's like to struggle with a child who is "different", who make him AND me feel relaxed and accepted. It's my neighbor's son, a high schooler, who knows Jayson idolizes him and always takes time out of his very busy schedule to spend time with him, or just say hello. Actually, it's all three of my neighbor's kids, who have never given off the vibe that they don't want him around - they always include him and accept him. And it's my family, who through the years have supported him and rooted for him at every single turn. I used to get frustrated with my family, who used to insist on how normal Jayson was. I always wanted to scream "No!! Stop pretending like everything is OK!!". But now I'm so very grateful for their attitudes. I never have to worry about what Jayson will say (or not say), or do (or not do) around my family. They always provide unconditional acceptance.
I'm sure I'm forgetting plenty of villagers, but Jayson is so blessed to have every single one of them in his life. It is because of them that he is doing so well, and growing up to be such a neat boy. Jayson's village is raising him up and guiding him well. There have been (and will be) many times when some villagers try to bring Jayson down. But thankfully those villagers are in the minority, vastly outnumbered by those who go out of their way to make him succeed.
And let's not forget that we are ALL villagers in each others lives. Our actions and words have profound effects on everyone around us. What kind of citizens do we want to be? Let's be productive ones. Let's all do our best to raise each other up, instead of tearing each other down. It takes a village to raise a child, but it takes all kinds to make a village. Let's make our villages great ones.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
My Own Parenting Gut Check...
As many of my friends know, my family has eagerly been awaiting the birth of my sister's second baby girl. Thanks to a well-timed day off from school, the kids and I were able to travel to Iowa Monday night and Tuesday and be there for the birth of little Betsy Lou. In fact, Jayson was the third family member to hold her, after her Mom and Dad. Betsy is happy and healthy and my sister can finally get on the road to recovery, since pregnancy was not very nice to her body this time around. There is nothing like a new baby. You sit there in the hospital and behold this little miracle, marveling at the fact that just hours ago she was curled up inside another human being. You ogle at every yawn, every little grunt, every little peek of the eyes. New babies hold so much hope and promise because you truly have before you a blank slate. To put it more bluntly - you haven't had a chance to screw them up yet.
I think I had about 3 hours after Katy was born where I could have been considered a perfect parent. I was still a little shell shocked, but managed to handle my first nursing feeding with aplomb. I changed her first poopy diaper like a pro, snuggled with her for awhile, and then sent her off to the nursery so they could clean her off, run some tests, and do whatever else they do in there. By the time they brought her back to me later that evening I was already a complete mess. I was a panicked new mom who became anxious over EVERYTHING. I worried about sleep schedule, feeding schedule and getting enough bonding time - mind you, I worried incessantly about this while STILL IN THE HOSPITAL! You can only imagine my anxiety level when I brought her home. Fast forward nearly 4 years and I remember thinking things would be different when Jayson was born. I knew what to do with a new baby so the second time around would go smoothly, right? Wrong. I was as panicked as ever, this time worrying not only about the new baby's schedule, but how I was going to turn little Katy's life upside down. In my early years as a parent, I truly did not have any confidence in myself. I loved my children more than anything, but was convinced I was doing a terrible job and ruining them every step of the way.
Ironically, it has been my more challenging child that has helped me gain a bit more confidence in my parenting. Yes he has autism, and yes he has social struggles, but many of the decisions Erik and I have made in parenting him have really paid off. We keep his home a calm place, don't overload him with too much madness, keep his routines as normal as possible, instill in him a strong school work ethic, introduce new experiences like sports and camp, and carefully surround him with nice kids who can be good social models and treat him kindly. At nearly 8 1/2 years old, Jayson is doing better than I ever though he would. I still wish I could sit and have deeper and more meaningful conversations with him, but perhaps that will come with time. I think our genuine love and acceptance of Jayson has been the best parenting strategy.
Even more ironically, it is the OTHER child - the straight A, sweet, caring, kind, helpful daughter that most often causes me to have some parenting gut checks. On the surface, Katy makes me look like a complete parenting success. She is smart, and very successful in school. She is sweet and shy and virtually never sasses me or acts inappropriately. But I look at her and see a very big way my parenting has negatively impacted her - Katy lacks confidence in herself and is an incessant worrier - everything makes her anxious. I truly believe she got that vibe from me from a very early age. My anxiousness made her anxious. My worrying caused her to worry. My lack of confidence in me caused her to doubt herself.
I think I always knew this in the back of my mind, but I really thought a lot about it on the drive home from Iowa yesterday. Fresh off our hospital visit and snuggles with her new baby cousin, Katy asked me all kinds of questions about what it was like when she was born and what it's like to be a new mom. I told her about all the magic and wonder, but also admitted to her my struggles. As I told her how anxious and worried I was I admitted that I now feel like a fool for doubting myself so much. I told her how I wished I had believed in myself more. And then I turned it around and told her that I wanted HER to believe in herself more. I implored her not to make my same mistakes. I tried to show her that a lot of her anxiousness stems from me, which in turn should make it easier for her to disown. It was a good conversation, and another example of how admitting and examining our own faults makes us stronger and better.
So I encourage everyone to do the occasional "gut check". Are there things you are doing (or not doing) as a parent that you know might affect your kids? It's more than OK if there are - none of us are perfect and we all make mistakes. But the biggest mistake of them all is ignoring it and never admitting it. Let's teach our kids that gut checks are a good way to recalibrate yourself, and that you are never too old face mistakes. After you do that, go and look at pictures of my new niece. She's adorable...
I think I had about 3 hours after Katy was born where I could have been considered a perfect parent. I was still a little shell shocked, but managed to handle my first nursing feeding with aplomb. I changed her first poopy diaper like a pro, snuggled with her for awhile, and then sent her off to the nursery so they could clean her off, run some tests, and do whatever else they do in there. By the time they brought her back to me later that evening I was already a complete mess. I was a panicked new mom who became anxious over EVERYTHING. I worried about sleep schedule, feeding schedule and getting enough bonding time - mind you, I worried incessantly about this while STILL IN THE HOSPITAL! You can only imagine my anxiety level when I brought her home. Fast forward nearly 4 years and I remember thinking things would be different when Jayson was born. I knew what to do with a new baby so the second time around would go smoothly, right? Wrong. I was as panicked as ever, this time worrying not only about the new baby's schedule, but how I was going to turn little Katy's life upside down. In my early years as a parent, I truly did not have any confidence in myself. I loved my children more than anything, but was convinced I was doing a terrible job and ruining them every step of the way.
Ironically, it has been my more challenging child that has helped me gain a bit more confidence in my parenting. Yes he has autism, and yes he has social struggles, but many of the decisions Erik and I have made in parenting him have really paid off. We keep his home a calm place, don't overload him with too much madness, keep his routines as normal as possible, instill in him a strong school work ethic, introduce new experiences like sports and camp, and carefully surround him with nice kids who can be good social models and treat him kindly. At nearly 8 1/2 years old, Jayson is doing better than I ever though he would. I still wish I could sit and have deeper and more meaningful conversations with him, but perhaps that will come with time. I think our genuine love and acceptance of Jayson has been the best parenting strategy.
Even more ironically, it is the OTHER child - the straight A, sweet, caring, kind, helpful daughter that most often causes me to have some parenting gut checks. On the surface, Katy makes me look like a complete parenting success. She is smart, and very successful in school. She is sweet and shy and virtually never sasses me or acts inappropriately. But I look at her and see a very big way my parenting has negatively impacted her - Katy lacks confidence in herself and is an incessant worrier - everything makes her anxious. I truly believe she got that vibe from me from a very early age. My anxiousness made her anxious. My worrying caused her to worry. My lack of confidence in me caused her to doubt herself.
I think I always knew this in the back of my mind, but I really thought a lot about it on the drive home from Iowa yesterday. Fresh off our hospital visit and snuggles with her new baby cousin, Katy asked me all kinds of questions about what it was like when she was born and what it's like to be a new mom. I told her about all the magic and wonder, but also admitted to her my struggles. As I told her how anxious and worried I was I admitted that I now feel like a fool for doubting myself so much. I told her how I wished I had believed in myself more. And then I turned it around and told her that I wanted HER to believe in herself more. I implored her not to make my same mistakes. I tried to show her that a lot of her anxiousness stems from me, which in turn should make it easier for her to disown. It was a good conversation, and another example of how admitting and examining our own faults makes us stronger and better.
So I encourage everyone to do the occasional "gut check". Are there things you are doing (or not doing) as a parent that you know might affect your kids? It's more than OK if there are - none of us are perfect and we all make mistakes. But the biggest mistake of them all is ignoring it and never admitting it. Let's teach our kids that gut checks are a good way to recalibrate yourself, and that you are never too old face mistakes. After you do that, go and look at pictures of my new niece. She's adorable...
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
If You Don't Have Anything Nice to Say...
Since starting this blog about a year ago I have tried to put up 2 posts a month. I usually have a running list in my head of topics I want to cover and there is enough excitement in my life with 2 school age children that new topics usually pop into my head all the time.
Well, I must be in some kind of a funk this month because every time I sit down at the computer to write a blog post I find myself wanting to write a rant. I'm steaming about a few things right now and was considering airing it all out on the blog. After all, many bloggers do this and it's probably pretty cathartic. I have gone on mini-rants before, but the things bothering me right now are a little too personal. I'm not sure a public blog is the place to air that out. Sure this blog has been a great place for me to explore some of the big life questions I've wrestled with while turning 40. But perhaps one thing I've learned is when to shut my mouth.
Consider it shut for this month. I'm going to work on my anger, focus on the (many) positive things going on right now, and save my ranting for a more appropriate audience. Perhaps my next blog topic will be on something much less controversial - like politics.
Happy October, everyone.
Well, I must be in some kind of a funk this month because every time I sit down at the computer to write a blog post I find myself wanting to write a rant. I'm steaming about a few things right now and was considering airing it all out on the blog. After all, many bloggers do this and it's probably pretty cathartic. I have gone on mini-rants before, but the things bothering me right now are a little too personal. I'm not sure a public blog is the place to air that out. Sure this blog has been a great place for me to explore some of the big life questions I've wrestled with while turning 40. But perhaps one thing I've learned is when to shut my mouth.
Consider it shut for this month. I'm going to work on my anger, focus on the (many) positive things going on right now, and save my ranting for a more appropriate audience. Perhaps my next blog topic will be on something much less controversial - like politics.
Happy October, everyone.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Half Crazy: A Race Report, and Lessons Learned...
This past weekend my four friends and I ran the Quad Cities Half Marathon. I had been looking forward to this weekend for a long time. We had picked the race back in May because it took place in the home town of one of the girls, and also had the best free swag I've ever seen in a goodie bag (a shirt, running gloves, AND a cool fuel belt??? JACKPOT). We spent the entire summer training together and all those early mornings had really paid off. We were all much faster and stronger than we were just 6 months ago. Many of us were THIS CLOSE to breaking the 2 hour mark. All we needed was great weather, some race adrenaline, and a flat course.
Well, 2 out of 3 ain't bad. We drove the course the night before and checked out possible hills. I'm ashamed to say some curse words came out of my mouth as we looked at the first 4 miles. The hills were pretty imposing to me and, since I never train on hills, I tempered my expectations for a finish time and focused on our fun meal out. We all had a nice carby dinner at Noodles and Company and then went shopping for (what else?) more running clothes. The temperatures looked to be very cold in the morning so we wanted to be prepared with warmer gear. After a decent night's rest, we woke up at 5:00 and started getting ready. We wanted to get to the starting line early to find the 2 hour pacer guy. Basically, if you stuck with the pacer runner, you would be guaranteed to finish in under 2 hours.
The 2 hour pacer guy was named Kevin - he was a spry young kid in his 20's (ah, youth - 2 hours was probably slumming it for him). I introduced myself to him, but warned him that I might not be able to keep up. He was totally friendly and seemed like he would have been a lovely guy to run a race with. Unfortunately, all I saw was the back of Kevin's head as he sprinted up the first hill like it was a curb. Ugh. Well, goodbye Kevin and goodbye sub 2 hours (or so I thought). I took the first 4 miles easy, going slowly up and down each hill, as to not kill my knees and quad muscles. I wasn't wearing my Garmin watch because I've had much better success just listening to my body and figuring out what it can handle. My friend Julie ran with me for much of the first 9 miles or so, but after a few miles she refused to tell me our pace. I'm so glad she did that because I did so much better not knowing.
After 4 miles the course flattened out considerably. I was so glad I had taken those hills easy because I felt really good by mile 6. I put on my headphones, smiled at Julie (who was rocking that course in her Vibram toe shoes!), and decided it was time to run my own race. I knew I was going faster with each passing mile, but still had no idea what my pace was or what my finish time would be. After one last water break at mile 10, I steeled myself for the last 3 miles of the race. As I approached mile 11 1/2 I noticed a water station but knew I didn't need it. I was moving over to the left to give the other runners room, when low and behold, I saw a very familiar face holding a very familiar sign. It was Kevin. I had caught up to, and was going to pass, the 2 hour pacer guy. I screamed his name at the top of my lungs "KKKEEEVVVIIINNN!!!!" and blew past him. He cheered me on and said "Go Go! You can do it!!". At that point I knew I had a sub two finish in my grasp. Those last 2 1/2 miles were very fast and very, very hard. But as I ran down that last hill (Really? A hill at mile 13? Who does that? ) and turned the corner towards the finish line, I gave it every last thing I had in me. I saw the clock ahead of me hit 1:59:30 so I broke out in a full on sprint and crossed at 1:59:58. I had forgotten that my chip time would be less because it took a minute to even reach the starting line. My official finish time was 1:58:46. I had done it. My other friend set a PR with a 1:55 finish time, and yet another friend beat her last half marathon time by TWENTY minutes, crossing at 2:04. Quite an accomplishment.
My celebration was short lived, however. One of the girls in my group ended up in the medical tent and needed some serious attention. Thank goodness one of our friends came upon her right before the finish and helped her. While we sat in the medical area with her, I reflected on the race and some of the lighthearted and more serious lessons I learned while running the Quad Cities Half:
1. Friends rock - part of what I've come to love about my running is the friendships that have been created and cemented. All 5 of us run our long runs together and we usually pair up with someone during the week for the shorter runs. We are a goofy bunch that share at least one thing in common, whether it be our daughters on the skating team, our sons on the autism spectrum, or our love of knitting. We spent most of the weekend laughing and eating - what's better than that? I adore all these ladies and feel grateful that they want to hang with me!
2. Training pays off- All those early morning summer runs, all those miles that I pushed the pace just a little bit, all the changes I made with my eating - it paid off in spades. I wasn't sure I could do a sub 2 race, and in fact my fastest training run had me on pace to finish at 2:03. But the training prepared my body and the adrenaline of race day pushed me just one last bit further. Trust the training!
3. But things can go wrong even if you do everything right. Unfortunately, some times you can train and train and then the unforeseen happens. Perhaps you turn your ankle the day before the race. Perhaps you come down with stomach flu. In the case of my friend, we think an allergy medicine she took the night before may have dehydrated her more than she realized, causing her to break down on the course. The scariest illustration of this lesson came while we were in the medical room with our friend. While we sat and kept her company, they wheeled in a 24 year old woman who's heart had stopped beating. While they performed CPR and literally shocked her with paddles, her friend was sobbing at her side and telling the doctors that they had trained and eaten well the day before. Their 12 miler just 2 weeks before had gone perfectly. She had never had any health problems before that day. 24 years old. I don't even know what ended up happening to that poor girl. Treasure your health and be grateful for every run that your body allows you to do safely. Be smart and take care of yourself the very best you can, and pray that nothing else goes wrong.
4. Running is a gift. Now I don't mean that I'm gifted at running. Quite the contrary, actually. I just look back at the last 2 years and realize all the joy I have found in something I never thought I could do. While I ran along the Mississippi river this weekend I soaked in all the beauty of my surroundings. I saw people on the course that inspired the heck out of me - whether it was the senior citizen who I literally COULD NOT CATCH the entire race, or the very overweight man who kept going on his leg of the marathon relay, even though he was clearly struggling, or my one of my very own friends, who carried our other friend across the line. There is a lot of humanity in running, and there is so much beauty to be found. I am grateful my body can do this right now, and hope it will continue for many years to come.
I'll carry these lessons with me into my next running journey. Training for marathon #2 begins December 11. The Road Whorriers will be running the Martian Marathon in Dearborn, Michigan on April 13. Bring it!!
Well, 2 out of 3 ain't bad. We drove the course the night before and checked out possible hills. I'm ashamed to say some curse words came out of my mouth as we looked at the first 4 miles. The hills were pretty imposing to me and, since I never train on hills, I tempered my expectations for a finish time and focused on our fun meal out. We all had a nice carby dinner at Noodles and Company and then went shopping for (what else?) more running clothes. The temperatures looked to be very cold in the morning so we wanted to be prepared with warmer gear. After a decent night's rest, we woke up at 5:00 and started getting ready. We wanted to get to the starting line early to find the 2 hour pacer guy. Basically, if you stuck with the pacer runner, you would be guaranteed to finish in under 2 hours.
The 2 hour pacer guy was named Kevin - he was a spry young kid in his 20's (ah, youth - 2 hours was probably slumming it for him). I introduced myself to him, but warned him that I might not be able to keep up. He was totally friendly and seemed like he would have been a lovely guy to run a race with. Unfortunately, all I saw was the back of Kevin's head as he sprinted up the first hill like it was a curb. Ugh. Well, goodbye Kevin and goodbye sub 2 hours (or so I thought). I took the first 4 miles easy, going slowly up and down each hill, as to not kill my knees and quad muscles. I wasn't wearing my Garmin watch because I've had much better success just listening to my body and figuring out what it can handle. My friend Julie ran with me for much of the first 9 miles or so, but after a few miles she refused to tell me our pace. I'm so glad she did that because I did so much better not knowing.
After 4 miles the course flattened out considerably. I was so glad I had taken those hills easy because I felt really good by mile 6. I put on my headphones, smiled at Julie (who was rocking that course in her Vibram toe shoes!), and decided it was time to run my own race. I knew I was going faster with each passing mile, but still had no idea what my pace was or what my finish time would be. After one last water break at mile 10, I steeled myself for the last 3 miles of the race. As I approached mile 11 1/2 I noticed a water station but knew I didn't need it. I was moving over to the left to give the other runners room, when low and behold, I saw a very familiar face holding a very familiar sign. It was Kevin. I had caught up to, and was going to pass, the 2 hour pacer guy. I screamed his name at the top of my lungs "KKKEEEVVVIIINNN!!!!" and blew past him. He cheered me on and said "Go Go! You can do it!!". At that point I knew I had a sub two finish in my grasp. Those last 2 1/2 miles were very fast and very, very hard. But as I ran down that last hill (Really? A hill at mile 13? Who does that? ) and turned the corner towards the finish line, I gave it every last thing I had in me. I saw the clock ahead of me hit 1:59:30 so I broke out in a full on sprint and crossed at 1:59:58. I had forgotten that my chip time would be less because it took a minute to even reach the starting line. My official finish time was 1:58:46. I had done it. My other friend set a PR with a 1:55 finish time, and yet another friend beat her last half marathon time by TWENTY minutes, crossing at 2:04. Quite an accomplishment.
My celebration was short lived, however. One of the girls in my group ended up in the medical tent and needed some serious attention. Thank goodness one of our friends came upon her right before the finish and helped her. While we sat in the medical area with her, I reflected on the race and some of the lighthearted and more serious lessons I learned while running the Quad Cities Half:
1. Friends rock - part of what I've come to love about my running is the friendships that have been created and cemented. All 5 of us run our long runs together and we usually pair up with someone during the week for the shorter runs. We are a goofy bunch that share at least one thing in common, whether it be our daughters on the skating team, our sons on the autism spectrum, or our love of knitting. We spent most of the weekend laughing and eating - what's better than that? I adore all these ladies and feel grateful that they want to hang with me!
2. Training pays off- All those early morning summer runs, all those miles that I pushed the pace just a little bit, all the changes I made with my eating - it paid off in spades. I wasn't sure I could do a sub 2 race, and in fact my fastest training run had me on pace to finish at 2:03. But the training prepared my body and the adrenaline of race day pushed me just one last bit further. Trust the training!
3. But things can go wrong even if you do everything right. Unfortunately, some times you can train and train and then the unforeseen happens. Perhaps you turn your ankle the day before the race. Perhaps you come down with stomach flu. In the case of my friend, we think an allergy medicine she took the night before may have dehydrated her more than she realized, causing her to break down on the course. The scariest illustration of this lesson came while we were in the medical room with our friend. While we sat and kept her company, they wheeled in a 24 year old woman who's heart had stopped beating. While they performed CPR and literally shocked her with paddles, her friend was sobbing at her side and telling the doctors that they had trained and eaten well the day before. Their 12 miler just 2 weeks before had gone perfectly. She had never had any health problems before that day. 24 years old. I don't even know what ended up happening to that poor girl. Treasure your health and be grateful for every run that your body allows you to do safely. Be smart and take care of yourself the very best you can, and pray that nothing else goes wrong.
4. Running is a gift. Now I don't mean that I'm gifted at running. Quite the contrary, actually. I just look back at the last 2 years and realize all the joy I have found in something I never thought I could do. While I ran along the Mississippi river this weekend I soaked in all the beauty of my surroundings. I saw people on the course that inspired the heck out of me - whether it was the senior citizen who I literally COULD NOT CATCH the entire race, or the very overweight man who kept going on his leg of the marathon relay, even though he was clearly struggling, or my one of my very own friends, who carried our other friend across the line. There is a lot of humanity in running, and there is so much beauty to be found. I am grateful my body can do this right now, and hope it will continue for many years to come.
I'll carry these lessons with me into my next running journey. Training for marathon #2 begins December 11. The Road Whorriers will be running the Martian Marathon in Dearborn, Michigan on April 13. Bring it!!
Monday, September 10, 2012
The End of an Era...
My younger sister is due with her second child in about 6 weeks. It's been fun listening to her pregnancy stories and talking about the new baby that's on the way. She came to visit with her 15th month old over the summer and Erik and I had a blast watching little Ellis and remembering what our kids were like at that age. I have to say it made me wistful. I remember the magic of being pregnant and all the excitement that came with it. There is a sense of endless possibilities, as you dream about what your child will be like and what he or she will become, and what your family will grow to be like. Then they are born and you brave the initial months of sleepless nights and utter exhaustion and are rewarded with sweet smiles, cuddles, and then first words, first steps, and the joy of watching your child figure out the world during the toddler years and crack you up during the pre school years. For many of us, we are blessed to have more than one child and can enjoy these phases more than once.
After Jayson was born I didn't think I would have any more but I certainly kept the option open. I was only 32 years of age and felt like I had all the time in the world. By the time he was 3 and 4 years old and the full extent of his special needs began to hit us, I mentally closed the door on more children for good. I simply didn't think I could ever handle another child's needs on top of Jayson's (and Katy's). Fast forward 4 more years and not only are Katy and Jayson doing pretty well, but both just swooned over having their baby cousin Ellis come to stay. One day, Jayson asked, "Mom, when are you going to have another baby so I can be a big brother?". I kind of brushed off his comment until later that night when Erik, after watching Ellis toddle around the house, commented "I know it's just crazy talk but don't you think it would be fun to go back to the circus one more time? Heck, we'd probably be better at it now and do a great job." He was only half serious, but it begged the question: Are Erik and I really ready to say a permanent goodbye to that stage of parenthood?
It seems like it would be an easy decision, but anything that permanent is hard to swallow. No more babies, EVER? No more toothless smiles, funny toddler sayings, first days of preschool - EVER? It's a hard thing to say goodbye to because it's such a magical time. But I'm finding that there is a heck of a lot of magic in the new phase of parenthood (later childhood and adolescence) as well. I find myself marveling at Katy now just as often as I did when she was 2. I love watching how she works through things in her head, how she handles friendships, how she finds her sense of humor, and how she slowly begins to shape her own identity. It's a marvel to behold. And I seem to have blinked and missed something because somehow my son seems to be growing up as well. He spends just as much time telling me he wants to do things by himself ("Don't help me, Mom!") as he does asking me for snacks (he still can't slice up his own apples). He still struggles tremendously with social issues, but sometimes I catch just a little glimpse of what he's going to be like when he gets a little older and it's truly exciting. And every new experience gobsmacks me - whether it's joining a football team, or telling me with absolute certainty that he will be going to sleepaway camp in Michigan with Katy this summer. He transitioned into 3rd grade with nary a problem and seems to be handling his busier than usual schedule with ease. I'm having a heck of a good time watching both my kids figure it all out.
And the bonus? It's been lovely to realize that this new phase for the children translates into a new phase for my marriage. We have a little more freedom and flexibility than we've had for the last 12 years. Our date nights of pizza and a rented movie were great, but it's even nicer to enjoy our increasing opportunities for dates outside the walls of our house. Thankfully, we still really enjoy each others company after all these years. The kids keep us busy, but it's a different kind of busy. And I think Erik and I have always done a good job of keeping our marriage at the center of things.
So I will delight in the birth of my new niece, and continue to crack up over Ellis's toddler escapades - but only as an Aunt. In my own family, it's time to squarely plant my feet in the next stage of life. Yet another reason I'm really loving my 40's!
After Jayson was born I didn't think I would have any more but I certainly kept the option open. I was only 32 years of age and felt like I had all the time in the world. By the time he was 3 and 4 years old and the full extent of his special needs began to hit us, I mentally closed the door on more children for good. I simply didn't think I could ever handle another child's needs on top of Jayson's (and Katy's). Fast forward 4 more years and not only are Katy and Jayson doing pretty well, but both just swooned over having their baby cousin Ellis come to stay. One day, Jayson asked, "Mom, when are you going to have another baby so I can be a big brother?". I kind of brushed off his comment until later that night when Erik, after watching Ellis toddle around the house, commented "I know it's just crazy talk but don't you think it would be fun to go back to the circus one more time? Heck, we'd probably be better at it now and do a great job." He was only half serious, but it begged the question: Are Erik and I really ready to say a permanent goodbye to that stage of parenthood?
It seems like it would be an easy decision, but anything that permanent is hard to swallow. No more babies, EVER? No more toothless smiles, funny toddler sayings, first days of preschool - EVER? It's a hard thing to say goodbye to because it's such a magical time. But I'm finding that there is a heck of a lot of magic in the new phase of parenthood (later childhood and adolescence) as well. I find myself marveling at Katy now just as often as I did when she was 2. I love watching how she works through things in her head, how she handles friendships, how she finds her sense of humor, and how she slowly begins to shape her own identity. It's a marvel to behold. And I seem to have blinked and missed something because somehow my son seems to be growing up as well. He spends just as much time telling me he wants to do things by himself ("Don't help me, Mom!") as he does asking me for snacks (he still can't slice up his own apples). He still struggles tremendously with social issues, but sometimes I catch just a little glimpse of what he's going to be like when he gets a little older and it's truly exciting. And every new experience gobsmacks me - whether it's joining a football team, or telling me with absolute certainty that he will be going to sleepaway camp in Michigan with Katy this summer. He transitioned into 3rd grade with nary a problem and seems to be handling his busier than usual schedule with ease. I'm having a heck of a good time watching both my kids figure it all out.
And the bonus? It's been lovely to realize that this new phase for the children translates into a new phase for my marriage. We have a little more freedom and flexibility than we've had for the last 12 years. Our date nights of pizza and a rented movie were great, but it's even nicer to enjoy our increasing opportunities for dates outside the walls of our house. Thankfully, we still really enjoy each others company after all these years. The kids keep us busy, but it's a different kind of busy. And I think Erik and I have always done a good job of keeping our marriage at the center of things.
So I will delight in the birth of my new niece, and continue to crack up over Ellis's toddler escapades - but only as an Aunt. In my own family, it's time to squarely plant my feet in the next stage of life. Yet another reason I'm really loving my 40's!
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Hitting My Stride
So I've been working hard on changing my running form lately. Some of you may have seen me around town wearing these absolutely ridiculous looking Vibram shoes (they look like gloves for your feet - with toes and everything. Gross.). I've been wearing them to strengthen my calf muscles and achilles tendons and to start forcing me to land on the balls of my feet when I run and walk. You see, most of us who have been wearing supportive and cushiony shoes our whole lives have developed a heel to toe running gait. Over time, this puts tremendous stress on your knees and hips and promotes injury. Apparently, striking the pavement with your forefoot first is what your body wants to do naturally. By developing a mid foot strike, I will most likely greatly reduce my aches and pains and be able to continue running injury free for a good, long time (after all, I have a good shot of winning my age group in a marathon some day if I'm the only 80 year old that signed up!).
But you know what? It's hard to change my habits. I've been running in my beloved Brooks Glycerins with all their cushioned glory for almost a year now. They carried me through a 1/2 marathon, 500 miles of marathon training, the marathon itself, and most of my summer running. I've felt comfortable with my heel to toe running form and I've been pretty successful and injury free, so why change? If it aint broke, don't fix it, right??
But therein lies the problem. Sometimes we don't know things are broken until it's too late. We develop habits and routines in life that carry us through "just fine" and we continue to muddle through day after day, year after year. We do it with our eating, our parenting, our friendships, our jobs, our spending habits, our interactions with others, our political views, and our world views. We can go on for years believing that everything is working for us just fine, ignoring those tiny little twinges of discomfort that pop up in the background. Then we begin to hear alternative ways of doing things, and of thinking about things and we put our hands over our ears and say "No thanks, I have it all figured out!" And we refuse to even listen to other ideas - because it's so hard to even consider the fact that we might be "doing it wrong".
Well I"m not afraid to listen to other ideas and theories. And at 40 years old I'm confident enough in myself to discern which ideas are worth consideration and which ideas are absolute bunk. But we are missing out on personal growth if we keep putting our hands over our ears, blocking out the rest of the world, and never even considering the viewpoints of others. I'm sure I'll see a lot of this play out on Facebook as the fall Presidential election gets closer.
I remember seeing a barefoot runner at my first half marathon. I thought this girl was an absolute loon as she patiently explained to me why running barefoot was actually better for your body. I dismissed her almost immediately and inwardly rolled my eyes. Now almost a year later I'm warming to the ideas behind barefoot running and going shopping for my first pair of minimalist running shoes (because hell will literally freeze over before you see me out there in actual bare feet. Ugh!). You see? It's never too late to consider ideas different from your own. And who knows? You may just end up in better shape for it. So in the mean time I'll continue to work on the new running form, and continue to work on hitting my stride - both on the road and off of it...
But you know what? It's hard to change my habits. I've been running in my beloved Brooks Glycerins with all their cushioned glory for almost a year now. They carried me through a 1/2 marathon, 500 miles of marathon training, the marathon itself, and most of my summer running. I've felt comfortable with my heel to toe running form and I've been pretty successful and injury free, so why change? If it aint broke, don't fix it, right??
But therein lies the problem. Sometimes we don't know things are broken until it's too late. We develop habits and routines in life that carry us through "just fine" and we continue to muddle through day after day, year after year. We do it with our eating, our parenting, our friendships, our jobs, our spending habits, our interactions with others, our political views, and our world views. We can go on for years believing that everything is working for us just fine, ignoring those tiny little twinges of discomfort that pop up in the background. Then we begin to hear alternative ways of doing things, and of thinking about things and we put our hands over our ears and say "No thanks, I have it all figured out!" And we refuse to even listen to other ideas - because it's so hard to even consider the fact that we might be "doing it wrong".
Well I"m not afraid to listen to other ideas and theories. And at 40 years old I'm confident enough in myself to discern which ideas are worth consideration and which ideas are absolute bunk. But we are missing out on personal growth if we keep putting our hands over our ears, blocking out the rest of the world, and never even considering the viewpoints of others. I'm sure I'll see a lot of this play out on Facebook as the fall Presidential election gets closer.
I remember seeing a barefoot runner at my first half marathon. I thought this girl was an absolute loon as she patiently explained to me why running barefoot was actually better for your body. I dismissed her almost immediately and inwardly rolled my eyes. Now almost a year later I'm warming to the ideas behind barefoot running and going shopping for my first pair of minimalist running shoes (because hell will literally freeze over before you see me out there in actual bare feet. Ugh!). You see? It's never too late to consider ideas different from your own. And who knows? You may just end up in better shape for it. So in the mean time I'll continue to work on the new running form, and continue to work on hitting my stride - both on the road and off of it...
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Thank You, Summer....
As usual, I am completely surprised when August hits and I have to come to terms with the fact that my kids will be starting school in a short amount of time (2nd week of August, really???). Admittedly, the school supply shopping is done, backpacks are ready, and nighttime bedtime routines are already being put into place. But I still don't feel ready. The start of a new school year is always tricky in my family, as Jayson is forced into a major transition - never a smooth thing for him. This year will be especially hard since Katy is off to Middle School and thus Jayson will have no one watching out for him on the bus or in the hallways of elementary school. He will truly be on his own this year, and while I'm thankful for the handful of kids I've handpicked to be his safety net in his class, I'm not totally convinced this year will go smoothly for him socially. We shall see...
So before I send Jayson back into the lions den and Katy into a whole new world, I wanted to take a minute and reflect on what was a wonderful summer. Here is my list of all I am thankful for...
1. Thank you, summer, for all our little mini trips. Strands couldn't budget in a big family vacation this year so we are thankful for the little side trips we were able to take to Sheboygan to visit my friend Holly and pick strawberries, and to Iowa to visit my sister and celebrate baby Ellis's first birthday. We are also thankful for our Great America trip, which is always a big hit every year.
2. Thank you, summer, for new opportunities. Katy conquered overnight camp and Jayson had a blast at day camp. Jayson also conquered football conditioning, which was certainly a new experience!
3. Thank you, summer, for baseball. I can't begin to express my gratefulness at the new bonding opportunities I've had with my son this summer over baseball. Our trip to Wrigley for Jay's first Cubs game is one of the highlights of my life.
4. Thank you, summer for new friends. I was so worried that Jayson would be alone this summer but that was far from the case. He enjoyed endless playdates with the nicest boys. I'm so very grateful that we've found some boys who accept Jayson and all his issues. I'm also thankful for old friends. Our across the street neighbors are a continual source of support for our whole family. What a blessing.
5. Thank you, summer, for heat. Our pool has never been busier, and more refreshing.
6. Thank you, summer, for early morning runs. My core group of 4 running friends has been a sanity saver all summer. I've cherished each and every 5:30 AM meeting this summer - even in the heat. Bring on the next race in September!!
7. Thank you, summer, for helping my daughter grow. This has been an instrumental summer for my 11 year old. She has had a wonderful time with friends new and old, and has really started to come into her own. She is as ready for Middle School as she'll ever be!
8. Thank you, summer, for all the happiness radiating from my children. They have both enjoyed themselves immensely - and I can't ask for anything more than that.
9. Thank you, summer, for new opportunities for my husband. A brand new job and an adventurous missions trip to Haiti certainly kept him on his toes.
10. And finally, thank you, summer, for just being there. These times with our children are fleeting. I will blink and soon summer will mean nothing because my kids will be grown and there will be no need to mark the time in between school years. I am so grateful that, for now, summer vacation still means something.
Hope everyone had as nice of a summer as the Strands did. Say a prayer for a successful school year for my monkeys. Let my stress begin...
So before I send Jayson back into the lions den and Katy into a whole new world, I wanted to take a minute and reflect on what was a wonderful summer. Here is my list of all I am thankful for...
1. Thank you, summer, for all our little mini trips. Strands couldn't budget in a big family vacation this year so we are thankful for the little side trips we were able to take to Sheboygan to visit my friend Holly and pick strawberries, and to Iowa to visit my sister and celebrate baby Ellis's first birthday. We are also thankful for our Great America trip, which is always a big hit every year.
2. Thank you, summer, for new opportunities. Katy conquered overnight camp and Jayson had a blast at day camp. Jayson also conquered football conditioning, which was certainly a new experience!
3. Thank you, summer, for baseball. I can't begin to express my gratefulness at the new bonding opportunities I've had with my son this summer over baseball. Our trip to Wrigley for Jay's first Cubs game is one of the highlights of my life.
4. Thank you, summer for new friends. I was so worried that Jayson would be alone this summer but that was far from the case. He enjoyed endless playdates with the nicest boys. I'm so very grateful that we've found some boys who accept Jayson and all his issues. I'm also thankful for old friends. Our across the street neighbors are a continual source of support for our whole family. What a blessing.
5. Thank you, summer, for heat. Our pool has never been busier, and more refreshing.
6. Thank you, summer, for early morning runs. My core group of 4 running friends has been a sanity saver all summer. I've cherished each and every 5:30 AM meeting this summer - even in the heat. Bring on the next race in September!!
7. Thank you, summer, for helping my daughter grow. This has been an instrumental summer for my 11 year old. She has had a wonderful time with friends new and old, and has really started to come into her own. She is as ready for Middle School as she'll ever be!
8. Thank you, summer, for all the happiness radiating from my children. They have both enjoyed themselves immensely - and I can't ask for anything more than that.
9. Thank you, summer, for new opportunities for my husband. A brand new job and an adventurous missions trip to Haiti certainly kept him on his toes.
10. And finally, thank you, summer, for just being there. These times with our children are fleeting. I will blink and soon summer will mean nothing because my kids will be grown and there will be no need to mark the time in between school years. I am so grateful that, for now, summer vacation still means something.
Hope everyone had as nice of a summer as the Strands did. Say a prayer for a successful school year for my monkeys. Let my stress begin...
Monday, July 16, 2012
Hey Chicago, What Do You Say???
One of the more frustrating aspects of raising a child on the autism spectrum is putting up with their obsessions. Many spectrum children fixate on something and can't seem to get away from talking about anything else. In the past, we have had to deal with Jayson's obsessions with clock times, Max and Ruby (Lord help me that was a brutal one), Transformers, and Spongebob. The cartoon obsessions are especially annoying because they tend to also produce what is referred to as "scripted speech", where Jayson really only talks to us using lines from the TV shows or movies he is watching. This can get frustrating for his peers, who can't understand why he says the same things over and over again, but it is especially frustrating for me since I usually have no frame of reference for, or any remote interest in, whatever he is obsessing over.
Until now. You see, Jayson has a new obsession that has been gaining power for the last few months. Ironically, it's also an obsession that consumed his own mother way back when she was 12 years old. My son has fallen head over heels in love with the Chicago Cubs and all things baseball. Now I don't have autism spectrum disorder, but I did catch Cubs fever back in 1984. I was a scrawny and geeky girl who got swept away in all the excitement of the 1984 team. I never missed a game and soon had memorized batting averages for all my favorite players like Jody Davis, Ryne Sandberg, and Bobby Dernier. All my spare change would go into my pocket and I would ride my bike all over town to different stores to buy baseball cards. At any given time I could tell you the MLB standings for both the American and National League teams, and knew the difference between a curve ball, slider, fastball, and breaking ball. And you know what? I drove everyone around me absolutely batty (no pun intended).
The obsession stuck around for quite awhile, at various levels of severity. My heart was broken by that 1984 team (I still hate you, Steve Garvey and the rest of you stupid San Diego Padres), and later by that 1989 team (still love you, though, Mark Grace). But I was growing older and my life was full of other activities such as college and my career and so I kept my love of the Cubs, but dialed back the obsession. In 2003 I let a little bit creep back since I was CONVINCED that was "our year". Well everyone knows the end of that story (I'm talking to you, Bartman) and the devastating, yet classic, collapse of our World Series hopes and dreams. After that, I decided for the sake of my sanity, to mentally detach from the Chicago Cubs. I barely followed them for the next 9 years. Until this year. With Jayson's latest obsession has come a reawakening of my own. And for one of the first times, I feel a REAL connection to my son. We can talk endlessly about baseball terms, players, team standings, etc. and I don't have to feign enthusiasm. The first thing we do every morning is check the Cubs home page for video highlights and we watch them together with equal delight.
And this past weekend brought the most exciting event we've had in some time - Jayson's first trip to Wrigley Field. As we approached the ballpark on Clark Street I said to Jayson "There it is!" and I watched as his eyes got as big as saucers. I have VERY vivid memories of my first game at Wrigley Field (left field bleachers, Steve Trout was pitching), and now I have a wonderful shared memory of Jayson's first game (left field terrace, Ryan Dempster pitching). I will never forget his face as he not only saw the field for the first time, but even got to walk down onto it and see the ballplayers. I will never forget the joyful reaction he had when Ryan Dempster emerged to warm up in the bullpen. I will cherish how excited he became as each player came out - "Mom!! There he is!! Starlin Castro!! Mom!!!!! It's Anthony Rizzo!! Look!!! There's Darwin Barney!!!! It's Geovany Soto!!!!" and on and on and on. He almost leaped out of his seat when Dempster and Johnson successfully bunted (his favorite baseball play) and got absolutely giddy as the seventh inning approached and we all stood up to sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" (we had been practicing for weeks...) He watched every pitch and every play intently, and so did I. And when the Cubs won on a double play in the ninth inning, I watched him get overcome with emotion as he sang "Go Cubs Go" with 38,000 other fans, and realized that they really did raise a "W" flag every time the Cubs were victorious. I think it might have been one of the greatest days of his life - I know it ranks highly as one of mine.
So I will cherish this latest obsession of Jayson's and hope it sticks around for awhile. I am enjoying this wonderful connection we have together and I'm thankful that my 12 year old self was smart enough to become nutty over something that would make me a better mother to a very special boy 28 years later. Autism is a great example of life throwing you a curveball. But sometimes, you hit those curveballs right out of the park. Home Run, indeed.
Until now. You see, Jayson has a new obsession that has been gaining power for the last few months. Ironically, it's also an obsession that consumed his own mother way back when she was 12 years old. My son has fallen head over heels in love with the Chicago Cubs and all things baseball. Now I don't have autism spectrum disorder, but I did catch Cubs fever back in 1984. I was a scrawny and geeky girl who got swept away in all the excitement of the 1984 team. I never missed a game and soon had memorized batting averages for all my favorite players like Jody Davis, Ryne Sandberg, and Bobby Dernier. All my spare change would go into my pocket and I would ride my bike all over town to different stores to buy baseball cards. At any given time I could tell you the MLB standings for both the American and National League teams, and knew the difference between a curve ball, slider, fastball, and breaking ball. And you know what? I drove everyone around me absolutely batty (no pun intended).
The obsession stuck around for quite awhile, at various levels of severity. My heart was broken by that 1984 team (I still hate you, Steve Garvey and the rest of you stupid San Diego Padres), and later by that 1989 team (still love you, though, Mark Grace). But I was growing older and my life was full of other activities such as college and my career and so I kept my love of the Cubs, but dialed back the obsession. In 2003 I let a little bit creep back since I was CONVINCED that was "our year". Well everyone knows the end of that story (I'm talking to you, Bartman) and the devastating, yet classic, collapse of our World Series hopes and dreams. After that, I decided for the sake of my sanity, to mentally detach from the Chicago Cubs. I barely followed them for the next 9 years. Until this year. With Jayson's latest obsession has come a reawakening of my own. And for one of the first times, I feel a REAL connection to my son. We can talk endlessly about baseball terms, players, team standings, etc. and I don't have to feign enthusiasm. The first thing we do every morning is check the Cubs home page for video highlights and we watch them together with equal delight.
And this past weekend brought the most exciting event we've had in some time - Jayson's first trip to Wrigley Field. As we approached the ballpark on Clark Street I said to Jayson "There it is!" and I watched as his eyes got as big as saucers. I have VERY vivid memories of my first game at Wrigley Field (left field bleachers, Steve Trout was pitching), and now I have a wonderful shared memory of Jayson's first game (left field terrace, Ryan Dempster pitching). I will never forget his face as he not only saw the field for the first time, but even got to walk down onto it and see the ballplayers. I will never forget the joyful reaction he had when Ryan Dempster emerged to warm up in the bullpen. I will cherish how excited he became as each player came out - "Mom!! There he is!! Starlin Castro!! Mom!!!!! It's Anthony Rizzo!! Look!!! There's Darwin Barney!!!! It's Geovany Soto!!!!" and on and on and on. He almost leaped out of his seat when Dempster and Johnson successfully bunted (his favorite baseball play) and got absolutely giddy as the seventh inning approached and we all stood up to sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" (we had been practicing for weeks...) He watched every pitch and every play intently, and so did I. And when the Cubs won on a double play in the ninth inning, I watched him get overcome with emotion as he sang "Go Cubs Go" with 38,000 other fans, and realized that they really did raise a "W" flag every time the Cubs were victorious. I think it might have been one of the greatest days of his life - I know it ranks highly as one of mine.
So I will cherish this latest obsession of Jayson's and hope it sticks around for awhile. I am enjoying this wonderful connection we have together and I'm thankful that my 12 year old self was smart enough to become nutty over something that would make me a better mother to a very special boy 28 years later. Autism is a great example of life throwing you a curveball. But sometimes, you hit those curveballs right out of the park. Home Run, indeed.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
A Most Disturbing Trend...
A few weeks ago Katy and her friend watched a movie at our house called "CyberBully". It was a very realistic and fairly graphic depiction of how bad bullying can get when you can hide behind a computer screen and say whatever you want. Katy isn't on Facebook but she does have an iPod and I do let her go on Instagram, where she mainly stays connected with girls on her ice skating team. We have had some talks about why you don't let people follow you if they don't know you, and we've also discussed many times that whatever you put online can be seen by many more people than you may think (even if you eventually delete them - someone has probably already seen it). I've pointed out stupid things people have posted on Facebook so she can see firsthand the impression others can have of you by what you post online. While I'd love to keep Katy in a bubble forever, the truth is that she is going to grow up in an online world that connects through social media. I'd rather teach her how to use it responsibly than stick my head in the sand and hope she uses a slate and abacus for the rest of her life.
So needless to say, I've been trying to find teachable moments regarding social media for her and I to discuss. Low and behold, I stumbled across something that made my skin crawl, my blood boil, and my heart break. Apparently kids think it's a good idea to post pictures of themselves and then ask the online world if they think they are pretty/handsome. Since most kids decide to friend everyone who requests them (really, do you have 2000 friends? I think not...) they get a ton of responses, most of them crude, disrespectful, and downright demeaning. These pictures and comments then get shared all over the internet so the entire world can witness a young girl or boy get their self esteem totally trampled on. I have personally read at least 10 different comment threads on 10 different pictures that showed up on MY Facebook news ticker in the last 3 hours. I'm not even friends with that many teenagers, and the teens I am friends with are basically good kids! It's astounding how fast these threads spread beyond teen's immediate social circle.
Seriously, what the heck people?? Why do kids feel the need to subject themselves to this? What can we do about it, other than talk to our own children and hope they don't follow along with the crowd? Social media is here to stay, but we parents better figure out a way to teach our kids to be more responsible. Of course, that may be impossible considering some of the online behavior I've witnessed from adults. Just go to any news article and read the comment thread below it. People get pretty brave when they can hide behind an anonymous screen name. I love Facebook, and I love the internet, but I also love my self esteem and the self esteem of my children. Let's hope this disturbing trend bites the dust sooner rather than later - for the sake of our children and ourselves...
So needless to say, I've been trying to find teachable moments regarding social media for her and I to discuss. Low and behold, I stumbled across something that made my skin crawl, my blood boil, and my heart break. Apparently kids think it's a good idea to post pictures of themselves and then ask the online world if they think they are pretty/handsome. Since most kids decide to friend everyone who requests them (really, do you have 2000 friends? I think not...) they get a ton of responses, most of them crude, disrespectful, and downright demeaning. These pictures and comments then get shared all over the internet so the entire world can witness a young girl or boy get their self esteem totally trampled on. I have personally read at least 10 different comment threads on 10 different pictures that showed up on MY Facebook news ticker in the last 3 hours. I'm not even friends with that many teenagers, and the teens I am friends with are basically good kids! It's astounding how fast these threads spread beyond teen's immediate social circle.
Seriously, what the heck people?? Why do kids feel the need to subject themselves to this? What can we do about it, other than talk to our own children and hope they don't follow along with the crowd? Social media is here to stay, but we parents better figure out a way to teach our kids to be more responsible. Of course, that may be impossible considering some of the online behavior I've witnessed from adults. Just go to any news article and read the comment thread below it. People get pretty brave when they can hide behind an anonymous screen name. I love Facebook, and I love the internet, but I also love my self esteem and the self esteem of my children. Let's hope this disturbing trend bites the dust sooner rather than later - for the sake of our children and ourselves...
Thursday, June 28, 2012
No More GPS...
Most of us can admit we are addicted to our gadgets. Whether it is a cell phone, or an iPod, or a laptop, our society is quickly becoming very tethered to our technology. We feel naked and lost without it, even going so far to think we cannot function without being plugged in. I admit I'm guilty of this sometimes. Erik got me an iPhone not too long ago and I have fallen in love with it. How can you not love a gadget that will refer to you as "Queen of England"? (Thanks, Siri!).
When I was marathon training I was completely addicted to my Garmin GPS watch. I would religiously watch my pace and wouldn't dare go too fast (even if I felt I could), lest I injure myself. I would set the watch to beep at certain intervals so I could stop and refuel and would adhere to those beeps like my life depended on it. I truly could not run without the watch. After the marathon was finished I decided to scale back the intensity of my running routine. I'm still going 4 days a week, but I keep the mileage between 20 and 25 miles so as not to pound my poor body into oblivion. I also decided to take the pressure off myself by putting away my Garmin watch, and set off on my runs "blind", letting my body dictate the pace it could handle. After a few weeks of running without the watch a funny thing began to happen - I got better. That's right, I became a better runner without the technology. I'm able to run longer in between water breaks, and my pace has gotten faster and faster. Without the watch warning me to slow down, I've shaved nearly 10 minutes off my 10 mile run time - and I feel fantastic. It is freeing to trust my own instincts and realize that my body and mind know what they are doing.
So that got me thinking. When I stopped relying on the watch to tell me what to do and relied on my own instinct, I got faster and stronger. What if I finally started to apply this to other areas of my life? For nearly 40 years I have sought out the opinions of others on just about every subject. I have compared my parenting styles and life choices to those around me, and always feared I was "doing it wrong", looking to others to show me what to do. But in the past year I have realized that I'm doing just fine, thank you. I'm starting to have more confidence in my decisions, even when they are radically different from those around me. You see, I don't need our culture's GPS to show me where to go. I feel good knowing that my heart and mind have it's own directional system, and I'm relying on it more and more. And you know what? It's just as freeing as my running has become. And it's making me just as strong and just as healthy. Sure I'll make some wrong decisions, but that's part of life and part of learning how to grow.
So trust your instincts, folks. Deep down you probably know the right answers to the questions you are asking yourself. Don't be afraid if they don't match the rest of the world's GPS. Sometimes, all that technology isn't all it's cracked up to be. Except for Siri, of course. She's just too much fun! See you out there on road of life...
When I was marathon training I was completely addicted to my Garmin GPS watch. I would religiously watch my pace and wouldn't dare go too fast (even if I felt I could), lest I injure myself. I would set the watch to beep at certain intervals so I could stop and refuel and would adhere to those beeps like my life depended on it. I truly could not run without the watch. After the marathon was finished I decided to scale back the intensity of my running routine. I'm still going 4 days a week, but I keep the mileage between 20 and 25 miles so as not to pound my poor body into oblivion. I also decided to take the pressure off myself by putting away my Garmin watch, and set off on my runs "blind", letting my body dictate the pace it could handle. After a few weeks of running without the watch a funny thing began to happen - I got better. That's right, I became a better runner without the technology. I'm able to run longer in between water breaks, and my pace has gotten faster and faster. Without the watch warning me to slow down, I've shaved nearly 10 minutes off my 10 mile run time - and I feel fantastic. It is freeing to trust my own instincts and realize that my body and mind know what they are doing.
So that got me thinking. When I stopped relying on the watch to tell me what to do and relied on my own instinct, I got faster and stronger. What if I finally started to apply this to other areas of my life? For nearly 40 years I have sought out the opinions of others on just about every subject. I have compared my parenting styles and life choices to those around me, and always feared I was "doing it wrong", looking to others to show me what to do. But in the past year I have realized that I'm doing just fine, thank you. I'm starting to have more confidence in my decisions, even when they are radically different from those around me. You see, I don't need our culture's GPS to show me where to go. I feel good knowing that my heart and mind have it's own directional system, and I'm relying on it more and more. And you know what? It's just as freeing as my running has become. And it's making me just as strong and just as healthy. Sure I'll make some wrong decisions, but that's part of life and part of learning how to grow.
So trust your instincts, folks. Deep down you probably know the right answers to the questions you are asking yourself. Don't be afraid if they don't match the rest of the world's GPS. Sometimes, all that technology isn't all it's cracked up to be. Except for Siri, of course. She's just too much fun! See you out there on road of life...
Thursday, June 14, 2012
A Letter to my Son
A few months ago I wrote a blog post in the form of a letter to my daughter. While I ended up showing it to her, it was more of a way to help me clarify some things she was struggling with and figure out how to help her through them. This Saturday my son Jayson turns 8 years old. I thought this would be a great time to write a letter to him. However, this one probably won't be shared with him, and even if it was, he would probably have a very hard time comprehending it. After all, one of the cruelest things Autism takes away from an individual is their ability to have deep, emotional conversations with others. While this letter may be one sided, it is as heartfelt as the one written to his sister. And while it is addressed to him, I invite everyone to read it. The more people understand what life is like for Jayson, the more people will hopefully open up their hearts a bit more, and have a little more grace and patience. For him, grace and patience from others might be the best birthday gift of all...
Dear Jayson,
I simply cannot believe 8 years have gone by since you were born. It has been the largest roller coaster ride of my life - filled with joy, sheer terror, excitement, anticipation, and, yes, some nausea. I think back to what a happy and silly little toddler you were and my heart fills with joy. Then I think back to the "dark days" when we began to recognize your struggles and finally put a name to them, and my heart fills with sadness. But many years have passed since those dark days. Quite honestly, if anyone would have asked me back then if I thought you would be like you are today I would have sadly said they were crazy. I simply could not imagine that things would have gotten better.
But they have. They HAVE gotten better. And I couldn't be more proud of all you have accomplished in 8 years. Things other 8 year olds and their parents simply take for granted. With you, I take NOTHING for granted. And while there are days when my heart breaks into a million pieces, those days are fewer and farther between. But I recognize the struggles you have and know that you face some serious challenges as you get older. Here are some pieces of advice:
1. It's more than OK to be a little different. It's taken me 40 years to realize that the bill of goods our culture tries to sell you is a crock of hooey. Don't worry about fitting into everyone else's mold of "normal". It's OK if you are quirky and odd and into your obsessions. Chances are, someday you will find a group of kids that are also odd and quirky and you can flourish with them. I'm pretty sure that's what Bill Gates did.
2. Know your limitations. You and I haven't had "the talk" yet. I know we haven't discussed the big A word and put a name and label on your behavior. That day is fast approaching, though. We have, however, talked at length about how your brain is "different". We have talked about why it's so hard for you when you get upset, why it's hard when you don't understand jokes that everyone else thinks is funny, and why it's not a good idea to talk about the same things over and over again with other people. I've told you that your brain might take longer to understand what you've read in school and that you might not always understand how others are feeling. As you get older, the important thing is to remember what your struggles are, and to try and come up with some strategies to cope. We've already started with strategies on what to do when other kids hurt your feelings. It's going to be my job to come up with more strategies and your job to learn them and make them a part of your life.
3. Don't bother with mean kids. I have watched you with a broken heart this year get manipulated and made fun of by others. You are often too naive to even realize it is happening, but I notice it and I hate it. But I can't hover over you forever so you are going to have to figure out who the good kids are on your own. I"m so grateful you've managed to make some new friends this year who seem to be a great match for you. Always remember that you don't have to be the most popular kid (those kids are often popular for the wrong reasons), you just have to find a few good friends that you are comfortable with. But also realize that it's hard to be your friend, and takes a pretty special kid to put up with you sometimes. You are a bit rigid with your thinking and often want to do things ONLY ONE WAY!! You also have a tendency to talk about the same things over and over again. While I don't mind listening to the teams in the American League for the 30th time, other kids get bored. Let's work on that one a little bit, shall we? But I sincerely hope that kids learn to give you some grace, because you are a hell of a sweet kid and you can be an absolute riot sometimes. My biggest prayer for you is that you find a nice group of friends (and a wife, someday, but let's not get ahead of ourselves...).
4. Take some breaks. I know you get overwhelmed easily. I know when you get tired, or you have to socialize a lot, or have to concentrate really hard, it can overtax your brain. It's OK to take some breaks and have your "alone time". And if others don't understand that, too bad. As your mom, I have learned to say "no" to things that will bring too much chaos into our days. You are allowed to do the same.
5. Keep up your good habits. Jayson, you are one of the hardest working kids I know. I don't know many 8 year olds who do their homework EVERY day (even in the summer) without complaint. You practice your karate EVERY day. You read EVERY night. I'm so proud of how hard you work. I know it's exhausting, and I know it's sometimes frustrating. But you do it and it makes a difference. You may not be the smartest kid going into third grade, but darn it, you are certainly holding your own. And in the fall you will most likely earn your yellow belt in karate. You can be SO proud of sticking with something for this long and working so hard, even thought it takes you longer than some other kids. Your victories are so much sweeter because they are harder to achieve.
Jayson, so many people simply don't understand you. You seem like every other 8 year old on the outside, when inside the world is such a jumble of confusion for you. As a result, you try to make sense of the world in the only way you know how, and others just don't quite get where you are coming from. But if you always remember your manners and treat others nicely, work on your limitations and use those coping strategies, make a few friends with some super nice and understanding kids, and keep working hard, you are going to do just fine. It won't be easy for you, but you will be OK. I love you more than words can say and thank God for you every day. I thank God for all the support He has put in our lives to cope with big A. But I am most thankful for you and how you have changed me for the better. Happy Happy Birthday, Jayson. May you get the biggest slice of cake, lots of Bears and Cubs stuff, and have a wonderful time with your friends at your party.
I love you,
Mom
Dear Jayson,
I simply cannot believe 8 years have gone by since you were born. It has been the largest roller coaster ride of my life - filled with joy, sheer terror, excitement, anticipation, and, yes, some nausea. I think back to what a happy and silly little toddler you were and my heart fills with joy. Then I think back to the "dark days" when we began to recognize your struggles and finally put a name to them, and my heart fills with sadness. But many years have passed since those dark days. Quite honestly, if anyone would have asked me back then if I thought you would be like you are today I would have sadly said they were crazy. I simply could not imagine that things would have gotten better.
But they have. They HAVE gotten better. And I couldn't be more proud of all you have accomplished in 8 years. Things other 8 year olds and their parents simply take for granted. With you, I take NOTHING for granted. And while there are days when my heart breaks into a million pieces, those days are fewer and farther between. But I recognize the struggles you have and know that you face some serious challenges as you get older. Here are some pieces of advice:
1. It's more than OK to be a little different. It's taken me 40 years to realize that the bill of goods our culture tries to sell you is a crock of hooey. Don't worry about fitting into everyone else's mold of "normal". It's OK if you are quirky and odd and into your obsessions. Chances are, someday you will find a group of kids that are also odd and quirky and you can flourish with them. I'm pretty sure that's what Bill Gates did.
2. Know your limitations. You and I haven't had "the talk" yet. I know we haven't discussed the big A word and put a name and label on your behavior. That day is fast approaching, though. We have, however, talked at length about how your brain is "different". We have talked about why it's so hard for you when you get upset, why it's hard when you don't understand jokes that everyone else thinks is funny, and why it's not a good idea to talk about the same things over and over again with other people. I've told you that your brain might take longer to understand what you've read in school and that you might not always understand how others are feeling. As you get older, the important thing is to remember what your struggles are, and to try and come up with some strategies to cope. We've already started with strategies on what to do when other kids hurt your feelings. It's going to be my job to come up with more strategies and your job to learn them and make them a part of your life.
3. Don't bother with mean kids. I have watched you with a broken heart this year get manipulated and made fun of by others. You are often too naive to even realize it is happening, but I notice it and I hate it. But I can't hover over you forever so you are going to have to figure out who the good kids are on your own. I"m so grateful you've managed to make some new friends this year who seem to be a great match for you. Always remember that you don't have to be the most popular kid (those kids are often popular for the wrong reasons), you just have to find a few good friends that you are comfortable with. But also realize that it's hard to be your friend, and takes a pretty special kid to put up with you sometimes. You are a bit rigid with your thinking and often want to do things ONLY ONE WAY!! You also have a tendency to talk about the same things over and over again. While I don't mind listening to the teams in the American League for the 30th time, other kids get bored. Let's work on that one a little bit, shall we? But I sincerely hope that kids learn to give you some grace, because you are a hell of a sweet kid and you can be an absolute riot sometimes. My biggest prayer for you is that you find a nice group of friends (and a wife, someday, but let's not get ahead of ourselves...).
4. Take some breaks. I know you get overwhelmed easily. I know when you get tired, or you have to socialize a lot, or have to concentrate really hard, it can overtax your brain. It's OK to take some breaks and have your "alone time". And if others don't understand that, too bad. As your mom, I have learned to say "no" to things that will bring too much chaos into our days. You are allowed to do the same.
5. Keep up your good habits. Jayson, you are one of the hardest working kids I know. I don't know many 8 year olds who do their homework EVERY day (even in the summer) without complaint. You practice your karate EVERY day. You read EVERY night. I'm so proud of how hard you work. I know it's exhausting, and I know it's sometimes frustrating. But you do it and it makes a difference. You may not be the smartest kid going into third grade, but darn it, you are certainly holding your own. And in the fall you will most likely earn your yellow belt in karate. You can be SO proud of sticking with something for this long and working so hard, even thought it takes you longer than some other kids. Your victories are so much sweeter because they are harder to achieve.
Jayson, so many people simply don't understand you. You seem like every other 8 year old on the outside, when inside the world is such a jumble of confusion for you. As a result, you try to make sense of the world in the only way you know how, and others just don't quite get where you are coming from. But if you always remember your manners and treat others nicely, work on your limitations and use those coping strategies, make a few friends with some super nice and understanding kids, and keep working hard, you are going to do just fine. It won't be easy for you, but you will be OK. I love you more than words can say and thank God for you every day. I thank God for all the support He has put in our lives to cope with big A. But I am most thankful for you and how you have changed me for the better. Happy Happy Birthday, Jayson. May you get the biggest slice of cake, lots of Bears and Cubs stuff, and have a wonderful time with your friends at your party.
I love you,
Mom
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