Migraines, Autism, and Pot: The Adventure Begins

Welp, we did! We started our journey into pot for our teenager. Well, by pot I mean CBD oil (which I am not even sure what that stands for) and by teenager I mean our 14 year old son who has autism, is deaf, has cognitive delays, and suffers from migraines. So. Much. Fun. Elijah, said 14 year old, is non-verbal so it makes all this journey that much more challenging.

Recently, Michigan has been having a mid-spring crisis and decided to snow. Before that we had a nice thunderstorm. I used to like all this fun weather changes, kept me on my toes. But, the changes throws Elijah's migraines into hyperdrive, so now I hate them. So, with all this rain and then  snow, it is no surprise that Elijah got a migraine tonight. His face is flushed and hot, his hands icy cold. He has to sign to me every 2 minutes or more that his nose hurts, his eye hurts. His nose streams with snot and he is constantly crying. This lasts for hours, like 8-14 hours or until we get him to fall asleep. The asleep part takes melatonin, more melatonin, and usually ends with mama laying down with him for the night.

He takes magnesium for a preventative, which has helped immensely. We have also tried meds to help during a migraine or at the onset of one. The meds include everything from Imitrex to Relpax, including the $900.00 monthly Zomig. Nothing helped or even touched these migraines, with the exception of hemp oil. Hemp oil gave Elijah about 15 minutes of relief, but then the migraine pain came back with a vengeance.

With all that, we met with a new PMR doc to ask about migraine pain. He immediately put Lij in PT and OT (both of which he gets at school too). The doc felt that Elijah would really benefit from strengthening his core muscles and that could effect the migraines. It also is imperative for his sign language skills! He has such low muscle tone, that he can't sign many signs. While seeing him, I asked about CBD oil for a migraine treatment. He said it could help, but I would have to get a neurologist to sign off on it too. So yet another appointment was made.

The neurologist took a little more convincing. My argument was that we tried all the pharmaceutical stuff, now we need to think outside of the box. What she said next made me nervous. Basically, she would sign off on it and have the PMR doc sign off on it, then send me the paperwork to apply for a Medical Marijuana (MM) card. But, here's the problem. It is a completely unregulated market. So, there are standards, but each distillery, errr weed center, errrr pot place, errr place to get MM is different. They all get their MM from different growers. Every place can medicate you with whatever formula they see fit. So the neurologist said that even if we go in for CBD oil and mention that Elijah has autism, they might put some THC in his weed concoction to help with the autism too. Now, is this true? I have no clue. I know that she was leary of putting him on it, unsure of the positive effects that could happen.

Two weeks ago, we got the paperwork! Two doctors had to sign off on it. We had to submit copies of our drivers license and Lijah's birth certificate. And, last but not least, 85 bucks. We sent it off after payday! I think the plan is to head down to Ann Arbor on a wonderful friend's suggestion. She uses MM for chronic pain and migraines too.

The neurologist did give me another mom's phone number to contact. Her son uses MM for autism and said she would be open to talking to me. There is sooooooo much for me to learn about! There's no book to help me out either...yet.

Thanks for reading up on our journey. I'll keep you posted. Pray with me that Elijah finds relief tonight with this migraine.

Ode to Caren

So I have this friend, let's call her Caren. I have known her for a long while now. I can remember bringing a meal to her small, hot apartment on the campus of Cranbrook when her son, G, was born. That was probably 9 years ago, or so.

Anyway, my friend has taught me so much over the past few years. I was never in a small group with her. I don't think we have ever met for coffee or anything like that either. BUT,  she has taught me through her actions.

This introverted, mother-of-4, has shown me what it's like to pine for God. I see it as she prepares to do something that is outside of her comfort zone (i.e. teach in front of church). I see it when she is homeschooling her children (needing her alone time for breathes of air). I see it in her home--revolving doors awaiting those who need to be loved on.

Sadly for us, she is moving away. Which isn't like she's dead or something! But, the face that I have taken for granted for so many years, is leaving our space.

I stopped over to drop a load of hand-me-downs for her youngest. I wanted it to be this big thing, where I say all my mushy, gushy stuff about how much I deeply respect her as a woman of God, a mama, and a wife. God told me to buy her coffee, help her pack, and tell her all this stuff. But, I chickened out. I didn't want to cry. So instead, I handed her 2 bags of clothes (so she couldn't hug me back) and raced away.

Even as I chickened out, she taught me. When asked "How are you doing though all this craziness?", she replied with, "God is giving me my daily bread. I want Him to give me my Costco-sized portion, but daily, I get just what I need."

That's Caren.

Boston is incredibly lucky to be gaining such an amazing woman, really, an amazing family.

Here's to Costco-sized portions of blessings, Caren!

Stephanie's Master Plan

Welp, I did it. I finished my first semester of grad school. I had 2 classes and got a 97% and a 98%. I had one bummer class that had a student who plagiarized (who was not yet--maybe never will be---punished). I also had an amazing class with the kind of prof you would pay to learn from. I guess, the way grad school should be?

3 classes this summer from Jun 29-Aug 10.

3 more classes in the fall.

3 more yet in the spring.

And 1 final one in the summer of 2016.

This doesn't seem like a lot. My program only requires 35-37 credits. Eric did his masters in Political Science and the requirements were 60 credits!

My program is extremely specific. I will be a Reading Specialist. I will be able to teach reading to children from kindergarten to 12th grade. That's it though.

What I love about it: I CAN TEACH KIDS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IN THE WORLD! READING!  So, it is not wide ranging, but it is deeply important.

Next summer I will begin looking for full (or part) time work teaching English, Communications, or as a Reading Specialist. Keep your ears open for me!

This should be an interesting next year or so for me and my family. Sometimes I can't believe that I am doing this. I mean, am I crazy? Like I don't have enough on my plate. Yet, I am strangely happy. I am gaining confidence that my brain still can work after all these years! I think this is a good step for me. :)

Let It Go Teacher Style

Eric and I had a snow (cold) day today. We went out to breakfast and worked on school stuff. For real, my father-in-law watched the boys and the baby went to day care. We worked at the local library for about 5 hours on school stuff. Well, we worked on this first.

LET IT SNOW!
Based on Frozen's popular song, but starting half way through it.
Included is beginning part for those of you (like me) who need a cue

My phone glows white with my apps tonight,
Mobile weather on my screen.
Feeling anticipation, of the whiteness to be seen  (Thanks Monica!)

The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside
Couldn't keep it in;
Heaven knows I've tried

Don't let them in,
don't let them see
Be the good girl you always have to be
Conceal, don't feel,
don't let them know
Well now they know

Let it snow, let it snow
Or at least get really cold
Let it snow, let it snow
Let it pile up past my car door

I've stayed up
All week grading exams
Let the storm rage on
Let's just call it a comp day

It's funny how some people
Think teachers just slack off
All of your tax dollars
Being eaten at the trough

It's time to see what we really do
To teach your kids, your neighbors too
So when snow falls, don't gripe at me
I'M FREE

Let it snow, let it snow
I'm one with the weather guy
Let it snow, let it snow
You'll never see me cry

Here I stand
Still in my robe
Let the snow still fall

My teaching flurries from the mind into their hearts
Science, math, social studies, even the fine arts
Inspiring lesson that will forever last
Tomorrow I'll be back,
Refreshed to teach my class

Let it snow, let it snow
I'll check quizzes all day long
Let it snow, let it snow
This stack is never gone

Here we stand
Thankful for what we do
Without a good teacher
Then I'd have to read this shit to you

Happy Snow Day!

If some of you teacher's out there want to work on the beginning portions, send me what you got! It looks like we will have tomorrow to work on it as well. :)

Creativity Breeds Messiness

Everyone I know needs a hobby. You know the one rejuvenated by working out? Going to work? Painting? Mine is food crafts.

When we only had 1 child, or even 2, being creative was a release. I would sew and craft and be happy. Now...not so much. Really the only time I get to be creative in a relaxing way is during the holidays. Well, I should say any holiday except Christmas. My husband, very wisely, recommended I actually enjoy the holiday as opposed to stressing over the hand-made presents like years in the past.

That brings us to Valentine's Day. For the past few weeks, the boys and I have perused Pinterest in our spare minutes. We have chosen cute cards for the classes and cute treats to bring in for parties.

Yes, I am the mom who stalks the email so I can sign up for the treats or fruit!

I buy all the supplies, including the 12.99 watermelon. Pinterest neglected to remind me that watermelon is totally out of season and will cost a billion dollars. We print all required materials. Eric sits down and helps them with their names. It's awesome!

*A little note that 1 class set was finished this morning so we were a lil' late to school.*

But then it's my turn. The food craft, nay, food ART. This is where I get to be creative. I covet the sprinkles and melted chocolate. I find such joy in slicing fruit to look pretty. Putting it together just makes me happy.

Then I go to school.

"Where do you find the time?!"

"Let's see what you brought this time."

"How much time to you spend on these?"

"Why did you sign up for watermelon hearts!!"

Because I am crafty. Because I am crazy. 

Because I am probably a bit masochistic. Because I want to. 

I often feel like I have to justify and say, "Come look at my house! It's super messy and crazy because I have neglected it in order to play with food." I don't want people to think I live this life of perfection. We are broken and messy, but we have redemption and creativity to save us.

So maybe I can be a little proud of my creations without feeling bad. My children love it when we do it together. They love being part of the creativity. They love feeling special. And I like to make them feel this way, so if a 12.99 watermelon and some heart cookie cutters are gonna do it, I'm all in.

The Lego ones say "We were built to be together"

Obligatory messy kitchen pic. It was super clean before I started to work on these!

P.S. I'll tell you my secret, I don't think of these fun things on my own. I copy a ton of stuff from Pinterest! Most of Valentine stuff has a printable sheet too!

Unsolicited Anecdotal Hippy Dippy Advice

Unsolicited Anecdotal Advice:

Brought to you by Olive Leaf Extract

Before you judge me, call me some hippy-dippy-root-eating weirdo (although that's true), listen to my story. 

We got the flu in December. Judah got it first and he had it for 6 days! Each of the other boys dropped like flies (except 1); me and my husband got it too. Thankfully, it was before Christmas and thankfully, we learned about this crazy little supplement. 

Whenever we get sick, our first go-to is our chiropractor. We want to help our body fight sickness as naturally as much as possible. Midweek, I headed up there with 2 sick kids and 1 sick mama. My chiropractor suggested taking some of Olive Leaf Extract (OLE). It was from the maker Premier Research Lab, who we had worked closely with when we were dealing with Elijah's gut issues. So, I didn't really hesitate to grab it and give it a try. All we had were the capsules, but I put it in smoothies for the boys and made Eric and I take them. 

No joke, Eric's flu lasted 15 hours. Judah's had lasted SIX DAYS! The difference was that OLE. 

Manny was the only one who didn't get sick and I seriously credit it to his taking the OLE as a preventative. (I mean, any time one kid gets something, it usually dominoes through the whole family.) 

For additional evidence, I submit to you my best friend's family (who also has 4 kids). They got the flu and used OLE. There flu was cut down to less than 12 hours. She just used it with a bug that went through her house last week and experienced the same thing!

Anyway, I don't sell this stuff or anything, so it truly is a Public Service Announcement. I think there is some research about OLE being anti-viral, which is an amazing feat. 

 Below is what we use and how we use it. 

Liquid Essential Oil Form:

The bottle says 40 drops mixed in a shot of juice. 

For the kids, we use 20-30 drops. 

The bottle says 3 times per day

Capsule Form:

Open the capsules and put it in smoothies

Or, just take it orally like a normal pill

The bottle says 3 times per day 

Zinc:

Find it and take it the minute you get sick! 

You can find the homeopathic kind or something

like Zicam, which is over the counter. 

The packages say every 3 hours. 

If you are local, you can find this stuff at NutraFoods in Royal Oak or at the Natural Food Patch in Ferndale.

**Disclaimer** I am not a doctor. Ask your doctor if you are concerned, although for real, I think that ingesting part of an olive plant would be the most benign thing you could possibly take. If it makes you feel worse, don't be an idiot. Stop taking it. Read the packages too. Also, like I said, this is anecdotal. Take at your own risk. If you are anything like me though, you will try anything once. :)

My Man

For those of you who don't know my husband, let me tell you a little bit about him. Eric is 36 years old today. Out of those 36 years, we figured out last night that we have known each other for 25 of those! When this was realized it produced a "Holy Shit!" and lots of belly laughing. We are getting old.

Eric is the kindest, most selfless, dedicated man I have ever met. He truly embodies servant hood. Examples of this are many. Eric can be know to go out in winter storms to get me a french fries or wake up with sick kids in the middle of the night. He deprives himself of small treats, records or shows, so we can buy groceries for the kids. And gurl, let me tell you about around the house! Vacuum maniac, world's best picker-upper of toy crap, and he can find a missing Lego with his feet! Ouch! Eric is the official dishwasher of the Scobie house. (Well, this is his fault. When we moved into our first house I begged for a dishwasher. He replied, "You married a dishwasher." That was the nail in the coffin. I haven't touched a dish since.)

On the inside, this man loves deeply.  If you could have been a fly on the wall yesterday when, at Elijah's pre-IEP meeting, tears of pride were rolling down his cheeks, there would be no doubt. His words are just as powerful as his nonverbal actions. Eric problem solves with me about parenting strategies that are just and fair. His tactics at calming am upset child are awe-inspiring. He takes care of us. Physically sick or mentally, he cares for us.

I could go on and on about him. About his passion for those who have less than us, about his fire for social justice, about how amazingly smart he is, about how is solely provided for a family of 6 for years on a teacher's salary, about how extraordinary he is in bed. Oh, too much information there, huh?

I am so blessed to have a partner in life who is this amazing. And I am blessed to have had him in my life for a quarter of a century. Happy Birthday my sweet husband. I love you more.

Dada with Elijah and Bumpa at Elijah's first Tiger's game

Our growing family...Manny Day was born!

Judah James stormed into the world

Last, but not least. our family of 6 was complete with Asher. 

Eric looks better than me in every picture! HA! Happy Birthday love. 

"Vacation" Part 2: Miracles Do Happen

Day 2--Cedar Point

Elijah and I wake up at 6:30, sneak out of the room, and find the coffee shop in the Kalahari lobby. He is migraine free and happy! YAY! Today will most certainly be a good day, right?

*Brief pause*  If you know me or have read any of my blog posts, you will know that I am an eternal optimist. Sometimes to a fault. All of my blog posts start off this way and then they proceed with something like this...

Wrong.

We amazingly checked out of the hotel, packed up all the kids with all the crap, and entered Cedar Point (CP) at exactly 11:00. We are amazing! We wait in the line to park, our spot was pretty close and dead center to the entrance. While Eric and I are getting out the supplies, snacks, and stroller, Elijah and Asher are going PSYCHO. Seriously. I think people thought we were torturing them. Lots of tantrumming, thrashing, and screaming coming from this car.

But we forged on. Everything is packed,  stroller ready, kids walking, almost to the gate where our family is waiting... wait, where's Elijah's cochlear implant? He already lost his glasses last week so he is kinda blind. Where is the implant?

Are you fucking kidding me? Kill me now. Someone, please?

Turn the (still) screaming stroller around to go back to the car to look. Eric and I hound each other with questions; Did you have it on your walk this morning? Where did you see it last? Think it's at the hotel? I hope it's in the car!

After 20 minutes of searching, no luck. The kid will be deaf for the day. Not a bad thing, but just one more thing out of his norm. But where was this little device worth THOUSANDS of dollars? We already lost it a few years ago and I wasn't sure if the warranty would cover another loss. Anxiety up, I didn't want to think about it.

All in all, the day was pretty good. Elijah was able to get a pass that allowed us to step to the front of the line so he didn't have to wait. He went on the Sky Hawk, the Maverick (I can't believe Eric took him on that), the Mine Ride, the Iron Dragon, and a few other rides. He loved them! I signed all day long (no one else except Eric knows ASL).  But, by 5:00 he was toast. My sweet in-laws offered to take him back to Troy for the night. He was ready to go.

My mom and Skip took the kids to dinner so Eric and I got ice cream for dinner and had a short cry. So many emotions. So many times counting to 4 to make sure I didn't lose one. So much focus on Elijah to help him have a good day.

The day ended with my crazy Middle boys going on the Blue Streak in the front cart, arms up the whole time. The kids all had a blast and all the adults were beyond tired. Except Skip. He really wanted to go on the Dragster. :)

Here's where the crazy, miraculous, inexpiable part comes in.

We finally found our car (after searching for 30 minutes), loaded the kids, and drove home (first stopping by the hotel to double check for the implant). We got in at 1:30 a.m. I came in, took off my sweatshirt that I had on all day, took out my pony tail, and went to bed in the clothes I was wearing. Asher woke up screaming at 3:30. I went in to calm him. As I bent over, I felt something fall on my shoulder. I instinctively knew what it was. I knew that shape like I knew my own hand. As I grabbed the cochlear implant off my shoulder, I thought to move my hand behind me, to feel for someone. I didn't. You can't touch angels.

I jumped in to bed and said, "Um, Scob, the implant just landed on my shoulder." My sweet husband hit me in the head and told me I was dreaming. I shook him a little to wake him fully. "Nope," I said, "I have it right here." We immediately thanked God for His providence and fell asleep, still in awe.

I cannot rationally tell you how that implant landed on my shoulder. I can't tell you why or how or anything. But, I can tell you that my God hears our prayers. His timing, 3:30 a.m., would not have been my preference, but I'm glad He knows better than I do.

The Pool

This was originally written in August 2014. I must have forgotten to publish it. 

My mom took the middles to the pool today. "The Pool" is at a local golf/country club place that doesn't allow tee shirts or jeans. It is intimidating to me and Eric practically breaks out in hives when we go there--only because it is totally not us. But, my parents have a membership and really, it is a cool place that has cool programming. And a great pool.

Asher and I met them up there to swim for an hour this evening. Asher was in the shallow side with Grampy, the middles were jumping off the diving board, my mom taking pictures, and I was finishing off an adult beverage while people watching.

I saw very slim, perky boobed, athletic mamas and dads playing tag with tag with their kids. I also saw a fellow cellulite-dimpled, mistakingly assumed pregnant, flabby armed mama walking around without a wrap or cover. I thought, "Wow! She is really brave!" And then I did something that I rarely do--I through off my bathing suit cover, ran over to the diving board, and did a big jump in with my boys.

Truth be told, I was scared and thought that everyone was staring at my big butt. I had read a blog post about a mom in my similar situation and how she basically said "fuck it" and was able to slough off the negative aspect of swim suits and look at it through different eyes: her children's eyes. I don't ever swim with my kids. Ever.  As I took off my cover up, I was channeling that. My kids were sooooooo happy when I jumped in. We dove and played. The 2 year old jumped into my arms and kept yelling, "One more time, Mama!"

I would have missed that if I was still sitting on the chair in the other side of the pool.

My mom (who recently had major foot surgery) was hobbling along taking pictures of the kids jumping and swimming. She took a pic of me, in my suit, diving into the pool. Whether the angle of the camera, the tummy-tucking suit I was wearing, or the aerodynamics of my flying through the air, somehow the picture turned out AMAZING. I am the heaviest I have ever been in my life (including being pregnant) and I looked at this pic (that she already posted to Facebook) and thought about how to make this photo-shop-looking picture a reality.

 I want to be fit and keep up with my 4 boys. I want to fit into my pants again. I want my tee-shirts not to be so tight.  Life has a way of reminding me...maybe this time a photo of me in my swimsuit was Facebook was a positive reenforcer. I'm trying hard to make the online me and the real life me line up evenly. I will never be one of those twiggy, gym rat, perky mamas, but I will work on being comfortable in my skin. Or bathing suit. :)

P.S. Full disclosure: I know NOTHING about diving. I told the boys to stream line and make sure their fingers touch the water first. Like I said, this is a miraculous picture.

"Vacation" Part 1--Kalahari

Our good friend, Marla, offered us a SWEET deal on five tickets to Cedar Point (CP). Since this would probably be our one chance with a family of six to go, we jumped on the offer.  Somehow we scammed both sets of grandparents into going to help too. We planned how to sneak snacks in and where the healthiest places to eat were. On top of CP, my mom and step dad took us to Kalahari the day before! Talk about BLESSED. My kids were excited beyond words.

Friday morning was spent packing clothes and organizing the gear (Elijah's special food, Elijah's meds, Asher's meds, etc.).  Asher went to the doctors on Thursday where we found out he had a double ear infection. I thought we had totally dodged a bullet. Whew, we got that out of the way!

Not so fast.

The middle kids rode down with my mom and Skip. They had to pull over for a Vernors because Judah felt a little sick. It was at that point I realized Elijah was starting a massive migraine. It came on super strong and super fast. Good thing I packed the meds! Unfortunately, it was too big for any meds we would give him.

Meanwhile, I get a phone call and this is what I hear, "Stephanie, Judah threw up everywhere. Like, everywhere. Well, he did get some in the bag. AHHHHH BEES...". Then I hear a man's voice (my step dad) yelling, "STOP MOVING THE BAG!" Apparently my mom, who is highly allergic to bees, was using the barf bag to shoo the bees away from Judah. The barf bag had a hole in it. She was spraying barf all over their car. Their Cadillac.

We eventually made it down to Kalahari. Judah must have just been carsick because he was totally fine after that. However, poor Lij was miserable. Sometimes water helps, so we suited up and went to the water after lunch. He did have a little fun. He went on some water slides, splashed a little in the wave pool, and played in the basketball pool. But the migraine started up even harder. I took him upstairs for a warm bath and some more meds.

The migraine lasted 11 hours and only ended because I gave him some sleep meds.

It is SOOOO incredibly difficult for us to take a vacation. First of all, we are teachers (well, 1 full time and 1 less than part time); we don't make enough money to ever take a vacation. Secondly, there are 4 small people in a family of 6. There always is a chance they can man-handle us, tieing us together so they can do nefarious things, like eat candy or watch SpongeBob. Thirdly, Elijah. Autism is always hard. Autism in an unfamiliar place is just plain crazy. So for the first time in forever, all the stars aligned and here we were.

I think the reason why Eric and I were so upset about the day was that we knew Elijah would LOVE Kalahari. CP was a crap shoot, but this was a for sure win. And he couldn't enjoy it. It was so unfair. Elijah would have liked it more than those little boys. I know it. He didn't have a chance; his body prevented him for doing so. And there was nothing I could do about it.

By the end of the night, Eric and I were spent. We all were asleep by 9:00 trying to put the barfy, migraine, super fun at times, day to bed too.

Then the morning came. Folks, you won't believe the story I have about that. Really, won't believe it. I'll write about it tomorrow though. Football is on now. :)

Plans

After an incredibly busy past 5 days or so (which included things like prepping for school stuff, making firework hats, and Elijah flooding our kitchen while Eric and I were "talking" in the bedroom), I finally sat down to think without any kids around or anything. On the toilet. People think grand thoughts while sitting on the toilet. Maybe that is why men take forever in there...

I was thinking about my phone interview that I have for this morning. My friend, Jodi, took Asher this morning (and I took the morning off of work) so I could have some quiet to prepare. 

What questions will they ask? What are my weaknesses? What literary techniques will I bring to their school? And on, and on. 

Then a thought popped into my head. 

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.  You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. Jeremiah 29:11-13 

Thanks God. I needed that. 

In faith, we have signed Asher up for full day childcare starting in the fall. In faith, we have prayed that God would lead us to the right job for me. But maybe God wanted to reassure and remind me of that second half of the verse. The end say “seek me with all your heart…” .

So as I do some more research for great answers to “What are your weaknesses?”, I am reminded to do a little more research in the Bible and prayer part.

Thank God. I needed that.

Costco Stole My Grace This Christmas

It was the week before Christmas.  All the stores were a mess, but I thought that Costco would be a good place to go to get gifts for my ESL folks. WRONG.

We got there and the car next to us was parked like a total idiot. For real, it was parked at an extreme angle. Well, I parked and started getting out the 2 year old when the driver and passenger came to their car. The passenger obviously could not wait the 3 seconds for me to get my kid out, so she opened her door and smashed me in the back. No apologies, and yet I withheld the verbal lashing that was running through my head.

When we walked in, I realized what I had gotten myself into. The store was JAM PACKED. But it wasn’t until a fellow shopper rammed me with her cart that I told the boys “Let’s go to Target.” We slowly made our way to the door and to the parking lot. I can honestly say that I saved Judah’s life by pulling him out of the way of a hurried driver taking a turn too quickly.

We got in the car and I felt drained….like someone sucked my Christmas joy away. Fuckin’ Costco.

This Christmas was the worst too. I have been feeling very disconnected to my community as it is, but we had to miss 3 family Christmases due to bronchitis, fevers, ear infections, migraines, throw-ups, and coughs that wouldn’t relent. Well, except Eric, my husband. He was spared which was a blessing because he took care of us! Our Christmas morning consisted of waking up late, opening gifts, singing happy birthday to Jesus, then half of us going straight to bed. Eric carried around our 2 year old for 3 straight days. He was limp with fever and pain.

We lost track of days. I couldn't do anything over the break because I was the sickest. We didn't go out of the house until the last Sunday of break.  All those laid out plans of visiting the DIA, the historical museum, the Detroit Puppet Theatre, etc.—all gone.

So I am writing all of this because every time something crazy or stupid happened (me getting a flat tire on the way to work, or a million other examples), I dug deeper in a pit of self pity. The pit did its best to suck me in. I was talking to a good friend (something that I started to shy away from) and she asked if I was depressed. I think I was. So being aware was something good.

Church was a mixed bag. The feelings of disconnect are almost worse there…which is soooooooo weird because our church is a huge part of our lives and we are fairly involved;  but this season of our lives we have been pulling away a bit. The good part of church has been the message. Today in particular.

Today Beau asked the question “When do you know you have arrived?” Like, when do you know life is great? My answer was something like “When we can pay all of our bills on time and we can buy groceries without worry about the bill.” We have low standards. J  There’s a focus on the self. I have made it! Me. I.  The flip side of the question was what does your ground zero look like? Your Zero?  Your weakest point? This is the point that Elijah and I went out to blow bubbles. Which was fine by me because I didn't want to think about that answer.  At all.

We came back in for the last song. That’s when the Spirit was like, “um, Stephanie, you need to answer this.”

Shit.

And the song that James sang was a vintage Genesis song, “Your Love Never Fails”.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PXsWAAhnGhc (Video of the song)

I had memories flooding back to signing this song 8-9 years ago to Elijah at the end of church. Signing it so that he could understand.

The line in the song that I still can’t sign to this day (without bursting into tears) is: “There may be pain in the night but joy comes in the morning.”

Sweet friends, the word pain brings up SOOOO much. That’s my ZERO. My weakness. It’s my son Elijah. It’s the non-stop ‘just being too short on money this week’. It’s the disconnect from friends because we are the only family I know that has to hire 2 babysitters in order to go out.

But the redemption that I need to keep reminding myself of is THERE IS JOY IN THE MORNING. Seasons come and go, some longer than others, joy comes back. Even at my ZERO. This season of ZERO started at Costco but ended today with the reminder of Joy and the promise that my Father makes ALL things work together for my good.

“Little ones to Him belong; they are weak, but He is strong.” Man, I hate being weak. But I’m so thankful that at those low, weak, humbling times that I have a Father who picks me up and cares for me. 

Thanks for reading. 

Peace to you.

What the eyes see and the ears hear...

Today, so far, has been a deficiency kind of day. It started off pretty good, busy getting kids ready for the day, driving them to 3 different places. etc. Then it got quiet. I was in my office (my van) with just one child, my Lijah. We were headed to the ophthalmologist today for a 2 hour appointment.

Now, if you are a typical kid, shoot-even a typical adult, 2 hours is a loooooooong time. For Lij it is 10 times worse.

So I prepped. I prepped Elijah. Signing that we were going to the doctors, then school. Only in that order. That the bus would not be coming today. I called ahead to remind the doctor's office that we were coming and could they have our room ready for us when we got there. I filled out all his paperwork the last time we were there, submitting insurance and licenses. I brought all the tricks-Ipad, Leapfrog thing, cookies, homeopathic anxiety meds, even no-spill bubbles.

We got there and he came in perfectly, went into the room perfectly, played the Ipad perfectly, blew bubbles perfectly. All for a little over an hour as we were waiting for the drops to dilate his eyes. By the time the doctor came in, Elijah was done. The doctor was great. Elijah's shrieks and screams didn't phase the doctor. I politely tell the doctor that "If Elijah had words, he would be saying, 'I've been here too long. I'm all done.'" But he doesn't have those words, so I say them for him.

He finished the visit--I would call it a success! Besides the verbal lashing, he did well. He sat still on my lap and was such a good, brave boy.

When we got into the van, I got a message from a sweet friend of mine. She just found out today that her son has the same type of hearing loss as Elijah has. I lost it. I had visions of getting that diagnosis with Elijah.  The pain we felt, the mourning we went through, the yelling with God we did. I cried for my sweet friend. My emotions apparently were just dormant, wakening when needed. I can empathize with exactly how she is feeling.

Now, 10 years later almost to the date, I know there is hope. That God made a language for us. God made technology so that we can give Elijah the OPTION to hear like we do. And the reality is, God can heal. Heal what? His hearing, my bias, our sadness. And He can bring hope. Hope for great communication (whatever that looks like), hope for internal healing, hope for technological assistance.

So in the quiet on the way home, I thought about these two deficiencies that my oldest son has. He has his daddy's sight and non-working (well, sort of with his implant) ears. My mind started to tick of other skills that are lacking.

Then I stopped myself.  I thought of how proud I am of him. I'm so proud that the teacher's letters home keep adding new signs that he is signing, new academic skills, new social skills (well, those are really lacking, but still progressing).  I just kept thinking of all the cool stuff that Elijah has been doing lately.

So my prayer is that I can mourn the deficiencies he (we) have but that I (we) celebrate the excessive joys he brings us.

Poop Happens

I really thought that I was in the clear. It had happened to friends of mine, even my best friend. Her first child did it NON STOP. I silently listened to her woes many years ago, saw her bleach-stained carpets, and thanked God it wasn’t me. But I have (pretty much) fully potty trained my 4^th (and last) kid during his 24^th month of life, I was at the finish line!  
 

Nope.
 

He pooped in his diaper at nap, flung the poo around the room, finger painted on the crib, rubbed his butt all over the multitude of blankets and sheets in there, and then peed out of the side of the crib just as I came in to check on him.
 

As he was in the tub, this was my conversation with him:
http://instagram.com/p/gO9EfHiaCe/#
 

Then tonight, when I was busy with the 3 other kiddos, Asher snuck off to the bathroom. He got out the toilet scrubby thing (from the garbage) and proceeded to “clean” the toilet for me.
 

With his hands.
 

 In a toilet full of urine from another brother who can’t understand WHY we need to flush the toilet.
 

As he was in the tub, this is my conversation with him:

http://instagram.com/p/gO8nDYCaBs/

I love this kid sooooooooo much, but I’m not quite sure how to explain that his borderline OCD/germ-a-phobe mama’s head will explode if he keeps this up.

Just another manic Wednesday, oh oh-oh

The day started at 3:00 a.m. with Judah sneaking into my bed to cuddle.  He has always been a shitty sleeper.
Elijah was next at 5:00, so I moved into his bed to silently beg for a few more hours.
Asher started screaming at 6:00, so onto the couch trying to snuggle him with shushes.

A morning of Asher eating toothpaste from the tube, Judah putting his clothes on inside out and backwards (I only made him switch his shirt out, sent him to school looking like Kris Kross), realizing I forgot to pack lunches and get out clothes for the day, and a never-ending screaming toddler.

The 2 phrases heard between 7:00 and 8:20 were
1) "Don't (hit, bite, push, etc.) your brother!"
2) "Please apologize for (hitting, biting, pushing, etc.) your brother."

I have been back and forth to the dentist for weeks trying to figure out why my nice new ceramic filling that replaced the poison silver one was hurting me. I need a root canal. Cha-Ching.

Coming home from dentist and Joann's, I walked into a beautiful scene of all the kids at the table with a bowl of Mac n' Cheese, eating sooooo nicely. (No veggies on those plates, but hey I'm not complaining. I didn't have to cook them anything!) Two minutes into this serene event Judah, our resident "Spiller of EVERYTHING", knocks his bowl over and breaks it. It is plastic. Really?!

I look at my calendar and realize I have a Halloween get-together I am hosting and my children do not have costumes. But atleast the Mother/Son dance that I forgot to buy corsages and boutonnieres for will be fun on Friday.

My mom stopped over and completely shot bedtime. But we needed that. We needed FUN, creative, and messy. Even though I was still a little crabby, it was exactly what we needed. The kids stayed up a little late, got a little messy, and painted (the base coat) of some pretty amazing pumpkins. They match the costumes that I have yet to make for the party on Saturday.

I love redemption. I love joy that comes when I least expect it.

Do you ever get an opportunity for joy in the middle of chaos?