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?