Want to hear a funny story?
OK, so our daughter, Sydney was in the first grade and wasn't doing well in school at all. (4 years later, we discovered she had an undiagnosed learning disability but let's not travel down that road right now.) All right... so, Sydney's teacher called me into yet another conference. The teacher actually suggested to my face that perhaps Sydney's troubles in school stem from problems in the home. (Oh, yes she did say those words to me.) I of course assured the teacher that this was certainly not the case.
"Not that we are a perfect family, but we seem to be doing a pretty good job raising our family and Adrian and I love being parents. We're good people, I promise. Sydney has problems in school but it has nothing to do with us. We ARE good parents, really."
While I was enduring this awful conference, Adrian was at a meeting about 50 miles away. I expected him to be home in time for dinner at 6:00. Of course I called his cell phone several times to get what he likes to call, "The play by play." He never answered or returned any of the 20 messages I left. I cursed him for forgetting to charge his phone and then forgave him and went about my business.
Hours passed by and not a peep from Adrian. I repeatedly checked the phone to make sure the ringer was on. I called friends and asked them to call me so I could check if my phone was still receiving incoming calls. I called Adrian's friends and asked if they had heard from him. I tried to put my worryin' out of my mind, but something just kept telling me something was really wrong.
I put the kids to bed (back then, we only had 3 kids so that was a piece of cake.) I cleaned up the supper dishes and paced back and forth wondering where oh where my husband could be. I decided to make a list of hospitals anywhere near he was going to be and I called them all asking if they had Adrian. Nope, no Adrian in the hospital. I couldn't sleep and it was getting really, really late.
At 1:00 am, the phone rang! It was a collect call from "an inmate" from the Gwinnett Detention Center!
Adrian had about 5 seconds to tell me what happened, so in other words, he couldn't explain anything. He just told me where he was and to come get him.
Well, I had to call a Bail Bondsman first. Isn't it so cool I figured out how to do that? Actually, I had called the Jail back after they made Adrian hang up and they told me what to do but they wouldn't or couldn't tell me what they had arrested him for.
I started thinking. Do I even know my husband? Does he lead a secret life? Is he a criminal and I don't even know it? Have I been living a lie?
Next, I had to wake up the children and put them in the car. Then we had to drive more than an hour away in the middle of the night to find this bail bondsman place. The children were scared and crying probably because I kept getting lost and saying, "Shit, shit, shit" a lot. Their little voices were trembling, "Whhh whhh where's Daddy?" Whh whhhh whhhy are we driving in the middle of the night? Whhhhy are you saying bad words?"
I just couldn't tell them we were out looking for the bail bondsman to bail their father out of jail since I had no idea what he was doing in there. So I just said that Daddy's car broke down and we have to go get him. We're going to the car repair man. "Yes, I said repair man, sweetie, not Bail man."
We finally found the bail bondsman and then we had to follow her to the jail. I thought I could just wait in the parking lot so my babies and I wouldn't have to get out of the car. They didn't even have shoes on.
Nope, I had to go with the bail bondsman who was actually a woman and a pretty darn fierce looking woman at that, and I wasn't about to leave my babies in the car. Turns out she was a bounty hunter as well. The kids were already scared and feasting their little innocent, small- town eyes on this, um, car repair woman and the slew of real, live weird-os walking around the jail at 3:00 in the morning made them horrified.
I carried all three children at once, two on my hips and one on my back. We got into the lobby of the jail and the guard told me the bondsman and I had to go post bail in the jail but no children were allowed and they had to stay in the lobby.
I can only imagine how I appeared to these people. Disheveled house wife with three children clinging on to her like koala bears, standing in the lobby of a jail to spring her husband out of the pokey.
There were some weird-os in the lobby too. I was afraid. Surely this was a practical joke. Where's the hidden camera? Of course, I said, no way jose cuervo, I am not leaving my babies in here alone. And the big, black as night bounty hunter shot me a look and said, "You come with me now and leave your children right there. You weren't supposed to bring your kids here in the first place. What were you thinking?"
"Well, I am sorry but it is the middle of the night and I couldn't just leave them at home! Excuse me!" I unclenched my children from my back and my sides and plopped them in a chair, covered them up with a blanket and told them to hold hands the whole time I was gone and not to let go no matter what. I told the guard he better not let anyone lay a hand on my babies. He wouldn't even look at me. He just shook his head at the bail bondsman and rolled his eyes.
Then, Jolie, my oldest, who was 9 years old at the time, pointed to the big letters across the wall and asked, "Mommy, what is Gwinnett Detention Center? Are we like in a jail? What did Daddy do?"
"Hey, um, that's interesting. Good reading, sweetie."
I posted bail with the bail bondswoman and they released Adrian. Adrian came walking out looking like he had been in jail for years instead of hours. They had taken his shoelaces and everything! It was the most pitiful thing to see him run, hobbling unsteadily into my arms with his shoes flippin' and a floppin' with each step to seek warmth and compassion and to cry on my shoulder.
"What in the hell have you done?" I asked.
"Nothing, I promise! It's all a big mistake!"
"Yeah, that's what they all say," said the bounty hunter.
"I will explain everything on the way home." Adrian whimpered.
Well, we got back home around 4:00 in the morning. Adrian's story was legit. It turns out he got pulled over for speeding and the computer said there was a warrant out for him due to an outstanding speeding ticket from 1980 in North Carolina. (NO, reader, I am not kidding.)
Well, we knew all about that mess since when Adrian went to apply for a new license a few years previously, this ticket had come up. From 1980!! The county in North Carolina had just updated their computers and they were going after all these old tickets. It was like a ten dollar fine back then and Adrian swore he paid it. However, to get his license, he had to pay it again. He did and it was all water under the bridge.
However, with their new fancy dancy computer program, they failed to update his status that it was paid (again) even though Georgia renewed his license.
When we got home, we literally tore apart the house because Adrian was convinced he had saved the receipt from North Carolina for paying the ticket from 1980 again. The kids stayed home from school because they were out all night picking up their father after "his car had broken down."
The next day, Adrian had to appear in court and he had the receipt from North Carolina! The judge said he was sorry for the misunderstanding and waived the new speeding ticket since having to stay in jail for 12 hours without the ability to make a phone call and having to spend $350.00 for bail was punishment enough. Not to mention he almost had a heart attack while he was in there and they had to give him a blood pressure pill! Oh, and he had to use a community toilet with his fellow inmates, all who were hard core criminals and he had to lay on the floor using his shoes as a pillow while he waited for 12 hours to pass so the jail could collect money from the state for housing him for a whole "day," and we had to pay an arm and a leg to get his car out of impoundment along with a hefty towing fee.
Any way..... so, the following day, the kids return to school. Sydney's teacher who had been soooo on my case all year long for being a bad mother for having a bad kid who couldn't read and write or follow directions, saw Jolie and Sydney in the hall way coming to school. "So, Sydney, why weren't you in school yesterday?"
"I am not supposed to tell." She replied
"You can tell me, it's OK." said the teacher.
"Um, we had to go get my dad out of prison." Sydney said. Then Jolie apparently hit her and said, "You weren't supposed to tell!"
And yeah, um... all that explaining that we were a fine family and Sydney's problems in school had nothing to do with us just fell on deaf ears after that.
I tried for 10 days to contact Sydney's teacher. I left voice mails.
"Um, hi, Mrs. Groce. This is Sydney's mom. I understand Sydney has told you we picked up her dad from prison. Well, it's just a misunder.... BEEEEEP!"
"Hi, it's me again, Abigail. Sorry, the voice mail cut out. Any way, I was just trying to explain that... BEEEEEEPPPP!"
"Ok, one more time. It was all a misunderstanding. See, back in 1980, Adrian got a BEEEEPP!"
"Voice mail box is full."
"Damn!"
"Sydney, please tell Mrs. Groce that Daddy was not in prison and he is not a criminal. No, actually, don't say that. That sounds like we're trying to cover for him. Um, how about just smile and tell her the police man made a mistake and Daddy didn't do anything wrong. Wait, no, that still sounds bad."
Any way...eventually, I got to talk to Mrs. Groce. She just held up her hand and said, "Hey, it's OK, it's none of my business."
And I was like, "But my husband didn't do anything wrong and he was not in prison! Well, he was in jail, but it was all a big mistake from 1980! Can you believe that? See, it's rather funny, isn't it?"
She didn't laugh.
And this is why you should never make any formal declarations that you are good parents because fate will teach you a lesson and you might just end up someplace without your shoelaces.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
To Spank or Not to Spank?
I write a weekly advice column called Ask Lula Belle for the White County News and the Towns Sentinel. Last year, someone wrote me seeking advice about spanking children. A few months later, I was asked to publish it again. Last week, I was asked to run the column again for the third time. It seemed to have struck a nerve with many parents as I got both fan mail and hate mail both times it ran. I am still sticking to my story that I do NOT believe spanking is an effective form of discipline and with 20 years experience working with children and 16 years experience being a mother, I only become more convinced that I was right all along to follow my instincts when I was a young and dumb mother for the first time. I sure as heck didn't know what I was doing the first time but I just kept following my heart. Spanking my children just never felt like the right thing to do.
As a preschool teacher for 7 years, I could pretty much tell right away which of my students were spanked at home and which were not. The ones who had to endure spankings at home were the more aggressive children and the worst problem solvers. They also had a much harder time respecting me because they felt like they were really able to get away with making trouble since I was not going to ever hit them. In fact, they would try to push me to see how far they could go and to see if they could ever get a reaction out of me other than a gentle reminder on how to behave in school and a time out. Time out to them was a joke.
On the other hand, I consistently found that the children who never received any discipline at home (and that means proper teaching and training, by the way) were just so lost and clueless on how to behave. Those students were usually not defiant, but would often times just do whatever they pleased and were rather impulsive. Those were the students who would unlock the gate at the playground and run off because they decided they wanted to play inside. They were the most disruptive at circle time and had a hard time understanding time out and would manipulatively tell me I was a mean teacher.
The students who were properly disciplined at home were the easiest to teach. They were respectful and kind to their friends. Sure, they would make mistakes but usually just a gentle reminder would put them back on track. These students would sit in time out when necessary and would be able to start over, correcting their own behavior when it was time to come back to the group, ready to try again with a new attitude.
It is important to teach children real life skills they can use in the future. I promise, promise, promise that there will be no place in their future where spanking or hitting will be acceptable. They cannot do it at school, work, or in a marriage. So, why do parents use spanking as a method of teaching and training a child? What message does it really send? "You, small innocent child have made a mistake and so now I am going to hit you?" Will the child say to herself, "OK, that hurt so I will never make a mistake again because I am afraid of getting hurt by the one person in the world who is supposed to love me no matter what?" Um... If that theory really worked, a spanked child would not make mistakes. But that is not the case because young children are learning and they will make many, many mistakes because it is just the way it is.
The important thing to think about is not preventing mistakes, but to focus on teaching many beautiful lessons for your child. And who in the world can really think about things when they are afraid or upset or if someone is hitting them? Try it, ask your husband or wife to make you study Chinese for and hour and then quiz you on what you have learned. While they are quizzing you, tell them to smack you every time you make a mistake.
Then, ask your husband or your wife to make you study Chinese for an hour but this time, ask them to be encouraging and loving every time you make a mistake while they quiz you. And if you really goof up, let it be OK for you to take a time out to really process all you are trying to learn. And how about a hug afterwards? Wouldn't that be better? Don't you think you would be eager to learn Chinese this way? Perhaps you would really resent learning Chinese if someone spanked you every time you messed up.
When I have to witness a child getting spanked, I just about fall apart because I can actually feel the shame and hurt the child is feeling. When it is happening, the child looks like a dog who has just been kicked for peeing on the carpet. With its tail between its legs, the dog will hopefully learn to only go potty outside, but it will always walk with its head down and will be scared of your foot everytime it see it. When the child is spanked, especially in public, I can feel the humiliation. I can feel the child's loss of self respect. When a parent is spanking a child, you might as well be saying, "I think you are an animal and I think you are too stupid to learn your lesson by listening to me teach it to you patiently, so I am just gonna whack you across the behind in this store in front of everyone so you will be too scared to keep telling me you are too tired to shop with me today." That's what a spanking is. It is a tool to make your children hurt, scared and humiliated in hopes they will stop behaving in a way that displeases the parent.
You know your child is not stupid. They are not animals. They are VERY sensitive little people. Whatever you do is ultimately shaping who they are. It is important to send the message that you think they are smart and capable of learning. Even if they really are driving you crazy in the store, it is better to LEAVE the store, take a break and try again. Maybe they truly are too tired to go shopping. Maybe if you hug them and let them know you UNDERSTAND how they feel, you can sorta compromise. "Hey, darling. You are being really fussy in this store. Are you tired or hungry?" "Uh, huh." "OK, I'll tell you what. I really need to get this shopping done. I am going to hurry as fast as I can and I won't waste any time just looking around aimlessly or buying stuff we don't need. We are going to do it together super fast and you can be my helper. As soon as we are finished, I am going to buy you a new hair bow or a new chapstick or a piece of candy as a reward for being such a good helper and I am going to let YOU pick it out. Ready? Let's do it!" Then make a game out of finding everything really fast. Run with the cart. It is fun.
See, in this example the child wasn't doing anything "wrong" to begin with. A child having a melt down does not need a punishment. They are just trying to tell you something important!! Like, listen up, mommy, I have had a really hard day and I need a nap and I am hungry and you are taking way too long in this store and I feel like I need a hug!" When a child is having a melt down, he or she is really just trying to share their feelings and if the parent isn't listening, they will get really, really loud about it. But if the parent knows that the melt down is the cue to listen and be understanding, the child will learn how to talk about their feelings and trust the parent will help them feel better.
Haven't you ever had a melt down as a grown up? PMS, hello! Your husband makes you mad. You have a horrible day at work. You get home and you feel totally overwhelemd by all you have to do and you yell at everybody and you cry. What makes it better? A. Your husband spanks you for yelling in the house. B. Your husband tells you to be quiet and get over it because life is hard. or C. Your husband realizes that your day really sucked and gives you a hug and tells you to just lay down because he is going to take care of dinner and that you can worry about all the things you have to do later when you feel better. I know when I have a bad day, I feel better when the people who love me support me. I know when my husband takes over my "duties" for a little while that after I rest for about 30 minutes, I join in with a spring in my step and a song in my heart because I feel so loved and understood.
Of course, parents who spank always argue with me about what to do when the child has really, really crossed a line. Let the punishment fit the crime and all that. Some parents say they only spank if the child is doing something dangerous or if the child is too small to understand a lecture about cars in the parking lot or they only spank if the child hits another person or bites them or whatever.
All I can say is that if you begin early by being a loving, patient teacher and begin time outs early, the child will "get it" before they are 2 years old. They will still make mistakes, but the cool thing is that they will learn how to talk about it with you respectfully and will be really good listeners.
"Take away" is a great consequence. It is important to teach a young child about consequences. When you make good choices, good things happen and when you make bad choices, bad things happen. Taking away toys or privileges and then allowing the child the opportunity to earn it back is an excellent way to train a child.
If I am raising five children without spanking, then you can too. And don't think for a minute I have "easy children." They are no different than any other child. They each have strengths and weaknesses. All children can be stubborn sometimes and all children can be lazy sometimes. All children can be rebellious. All children can wake up on the wrong side of the bed. Being a parent will take you on a journey of really high highs and really low lows. But the number one job of a parent is to be a teacher. 85% of what they need to know, they will learn from you. And if you teach them that hitting someone can somehow solve a problem, you are doing them a disservice because it won't work any where else in their lives. Not at school, not at work, and not in a marriage.
As a preschool teacher for 7 years, I could pretty much tell right away which of my students were spanked at home and which were not. The ones who had to endure spankings at home were the more aggressive children and the worst problem solvers. They also had a much harder time respecting me because they felt like they were really able to get away with making trouble since I was not going to ever hit them. In fact, they would try to push me to see how far they could go and to see if they could ever get a reaction out of me other than a gentle reminder on how to behave in school and a time out. Time out to them was a joke.
On the other hand, I consistently found that the children who never received any discipline at home (and that means proper teaching and training, by the way) were just so lost and clueless on how to behave. Those students were usually not defiant, but would often times just do whatever they pleased and were rather impulsive. Those were the students who would unlock the gate at the playground and run off because they decided they wanted to play inside. They were the most disruptive at circle time and had a hard time understanding time out and would manipulatively tell me I was a mean teacher.
The students who were properly disciplined at home were the easiest to teach. They were respectful and kind to their friends. Sure, they would make mistakes but usually just a gentle reminder would put them back on track. These students would sit in time out when necessary and would be able to start over, correcting their own behavior when it was time to come back to the group, ready to try again with a new attitude.
It is important to teach children real life skills they can use in the future. I promise, promise, promise that there will be no place in their future where spanking or hitting will be acceptable. They cannot do it at school, work, or in a marriage. So, why do parents use spanking as a method of teaching and training a child? What message does it really send? "You, small innocent child have made a mistake and so now I am going to hit you?" Will the child say to herself, "OK, that hurt so I will never make a mistake again because I am afraid of getting hurt by the one person in the world who is supposed to love me no matter what?" Um... If that theory really worked, a spanked child would not make mistakes. But that is not the case because young children are learning and they will make many, many mistakes because it is just the way it is.
The important thing to think about is not preventing mistakes, but to focus on teaching many beautiful lessons for your child. And who in the world can really think about things when they are afraid or upset or if someone is hitting them? Try it, ask your husband or wife to make you study Chinese for and hour and then quiz you on what you have learned. While they are quizzing you, tell them to smack you every time you make a mistake.
Then, ask your husband or your wife to make you study Chinese for an hour but this time, ask them to be encouraging and loving every time you make a mistake while they quiz you. And if you really goof up, let it be OK for you to take a time out to really process all you are trying to learn. And how about a hug afterwards? Wouldn't that be better? Don't you think you would be eager to learn Chinese this way? Perhaps you would really resent learning Chinese if someone spanked you every time you messed up.
When I have to witness a child getting spanked, I just about fall apart because I can actually feel the shame and hurt the child is feeling. When it is happening, the child looks like a dog who has just been kicked for peeing on the carpet. With its tail between its legs, the dog will hopefully learn to only go potty outside, but it will always walk with its head down and will be scared of your foot everytime it see it. When the child is spanked, especially in public, I can feel the humiliation. I can feel the child's loss of self respect. When a parent is spanking a child, you might as well be saying, "I think you are an animal and I think you are too stupid to learn your lesson by listening to me teach it to you patiently, so I am just gonna whack you across the behind in this store in front of everyone so you will be too scared to keep telling me you are too tired to shop with me today." That's what a spanking is. It is a tool to make your children hurt, scared and humiliated in hopes they will stop behaving in a way that displeases the parent.
You know your child is not stupid. They are not animals. They are VERY sensitive little people. Whatever you do is ultimately shaping who they are. It is important to send the message that you think they are smart and capable of learning. Even if they really are driving you crazy in the store, it is better to LEAVE the store, take a break and try again. Maybe they truly are too tired to go shopping. Maybe if you hug them and let them know you UNDERSTAND how they feel, you can sorta compromise. "Hey, darling. You are being really fussy in this store. Are you tired or hungry?" "Uh, huh." "OK, I'll tell you what. I really need to get this shopping done. I am going to hurry as fast as I can and I won't waste any time just looking around aimlessly or buying stuff we don't need. We are going to do it together super fast and you can be my helper. As soon as we are finished, I am going to buy you a new hair bow or a new chapstick or a piece of candy as a reward for being such a good helper and I am going to let YOU pick it out. Ready? Let's do it!" Then make a game out of finding everything really fast. Run with the cart. It is fun.
See, in this example the child wasn't doing anything "wrong" to begin with. A child having a melt down does not need a punishment. They are just trying to tell you something important!! Like, listen up, mommy, I have had a really hard day and I need a nap and I am hungry and you are taking way too long in this store and I feel like I need a hug!" When a child is having a melt down, he or she is really just trying to share their feelings and if the parent isn't listening, they will get really, really loud about it. But if the parent knows that the melt down is the cue to listen and be understanding, the child will learn how to talk about their feelings and trust the parent will help them feel better.
Haven't you ever had a melt down as a grown up? PMS, hello! Your husband makes you mad. You have a horrible day at work. You get home and you feel totally overwhelemd by all you have to do and you yell at everybody and you cry. What makes it better? A. Your husband spanks you for yelling in the house. B. Your husband tells you to be quiet and get over it because life is hard. or C. Your husband realizes that your day really sucked and gives you a hug and tells you to just lay down because he is going to take care of dinner and that you can worry about all the things you have to do later when you feel better. I know when I have a bad day, I feel better when the people who love me support me. I know when my husband takes over my "duties" for a little while that after I rest for about 30 minutes, I join in with a spring in my step and a song in my heart because I feel so loved and understood.
Of course, parents who spank always argue with me about what to do when the child has really, really crossed a line. Let the punishment fit the crime and all that. Some parents say they only spank if the child is doing something dangerous or if the child is too small to understand a lecture about cars in the parking lot or they only spank if the child hits another person or bites them or whatever.
All I can say is that if you begin early by being a loving, patient teacher and begin time outs early, the child will "get it" before they are 2 years old. They will still make mistakes, but the cool thing is that they will learn how to talk about it with you respectfully and will be really good listeners.
"Take away" is a great consequence. It is important to teach a young child about consequences. When you make good choices, good things happen and when you make bad choices, bad things happen. Taking away toys or privileges and then allowing the child the opportunity to earn it back is an excellent way to train a child.
If I am raising five children without spanking, then you can too. And don't think for a minute I have "easy children." They are no different than any other child. They each have strengths and weaknesses. All children can be stubborn sometimes and all children can be lazy sometimes. All children can be rebellious. All children can wake up on the wrong side of the bed. Being a parent will take you on a journey of really high highs and really low lows. But the number one job of a parent is to be a teacher. 85% of what they need to know, they will learn from you. And if you teach them that hitting someone can somehow solve a problem, you are doing them a disservice because it won't work any where else in their lives. Not at school, not at work, and not in a marriage.
Monday, April 26, 2010
A letter to my son
Dear Nicholas,
It has been a year since we learned you have PDD-NOS. I admit I cried all the way home from Atlanta after the developmental pediatrician told us. A part of me was hoping he would say the things that I'd been worried about were all in my head. When he said the word, "Autism," my heart broke. So many thoughts entered my head. Will you go to regular school? Will you live with us forever? Will you learn to drive a car? Will you have a job? Will you make real friends your own age? Will you fall in love? Will you get married and have a family?
I apologize for talking about you in front of you sometimes like you're not even in the room. I am sorry for explaining PDD-NOS to strangers and friends like you can't hear what I am saying. I am sorry I talk about developmental delays as if you don't have remarkable skills other than speech development. I admit Autism has consumed me for most of this year and each time I talked about it, it helped me deal with it. Every time I read a book about it, I felt better and every time I shared what I learned, I felt empowered.
Although, during this past year, I have learned more from you and your big brother and sisters than from any books I have read. I have learned there are many ways to think. No two minds are alike and your mind happens to be even more special than average. I have learned not to judge anyone, especially a child. I have learned not to put God in a box because God is more awesome than I once believed. I have learned that there are more ways to communicate and sometimes taking words out of the picture gives everything a deeper meaning. I have learned to trust my mother's intuition more. I have learned to take things one day at a time. I have learned to be more patient. And most importantly, I have learned that all in all, my concerns for you are absolutely no different from the concerns I have for your brother and sisters. I want the same things for each of you. I want y'all to grow up happy, spiritually minded people who will be passionate in life. I want y'all to spread goodness and love. I want y'all to be anything and everything you want to be. Nothing will stand in your way because any walls that you can't knock down yourself, Daddy and I will knock them down for you and any walls we can't knock down, your grandmothers, aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings, friends, teachers, and our community will jump right in there with us and we can knock them down together. Nothing will be impossible for you. And that goes for each of our five children.
I am sorry that from time to time I forget at the end of the day, you are just Nicholas. You are not Autism. You are a human being who maybe thinks differently and grows differently, but no two people are alike any way, so it doesn't matter if you have a diagnosis or not.
I believe at the core, each and everyone of us has one question. We ask many people along our journey in life, "Am I accepted?" I truly believe this is our eternal question. We all desire and seek acceptance, pure acceptance to be loved unconditionally. And for you, Jolie, Sydney, Fischer and Mollie, the answer is YES! Daddy and I love you and accept you exactly as you are, no strings attached. This means we wouldn't change anything about any of you even if we could.
So, I guess what I am trying to say is a year ago I was devastated and in twelve short months, you showed me hope. I am so grateful for your school, Challenged Child and Friends. I am grateful for your teachers and your speech and occupational therapists who look at you and just see Nicholas. I love that at school, everyone focuses on your abilities and not anything else. Reading the notes they send home letting me know you were the line leader, or you were the door holder, or you tried to go potty, or you cut with scissors on your own, or you can read everyone's name on the felt board, makes me the proudest mommy on the block. When I see you with your little back pack on, smiling and happy to be a big boy at school, I know in my heart, everything is going to be just fine.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
Spring Break 2010
Oh, Lordy! Why oh why did I think a vacation is what this family needed? I mean, really. Believe you me, it was no vacation for Adrian and me who got a whopping total of 4 hours sleep the entire time. Nicholas, come to find out, cannot sleep in a foreign place or at least not on a beautiful island in South Georgia. Jolie and Sydney slept OK the first night but the following day they got sun burned and sleep became an elusive dream after that. Fischer and Mollie were lucky they just could zonk out just about any place even if that was an uncomfortable sofa and chair. Adrian and I are spoiled by our top of the line bed mattress, so it is hard to fall asleep anywhere but home, but truly, the real prevention of shut eye was Nicholas who hit us, kicked us, scratched us, and pulled our hair for hours on end while we tried to coax him to sleep.
That kid has night vision because when I would let him loose, he really could get into things around the condo. I was afraid to fall asleep without knowing for absolute certain he was asleep because he could have started a fire or escaped which he has done before. Then, once he finally was asleep, I slept with one eye open, of course even though that boy will go and go and go and then pass out like a rock and will sleep through anything, just apparently not until 4:00 am.
And the traveling part...Whoa! Don't even get me started. Let's just say, during our 6 hour road trip which took 8 hours with 7 people cramped in a small space for that span of time, made me contemplate: divorce, suicide, and homicide. And then, of course, there was the car ride home which was worse than the ride there.
But when we were actually on the beach itself, I can tell you a different story. Like how awesome it was to see the look of wonder on Mollie's face when she laid eyes on the Atlantic ocean for the first time since she was a little baby. And the way she let go of my hand and ran through the cool, wet sand straight for the waves so fearlessly. And the way she would giggle when the cold, cold salty water would splash all over her and the way she merrily plopped herself down in the sand making sand angles as if she were in the middle of snow.
And Fischer, my ever curious 9 year old was in his element being out there with the wind blowing his mop of blonde hair. He seemed totally in tune with the sea and the sand. Watching him dig to China and build spectacular sand castles made me feel so, so, happy. Fischer my little sensitive soul is such a thoughtful Buddha. During the school year, he is always so busy, but to have a week of him just being himself, was divine. If ever you get to hang out with this dude, you would see what I mean. He is so cool.
Sydney took charge as the little mama, of course. It was either her joy to be nurturing or her excuse to be young and unencumbered by embarrassment to play right along with the little kids. She was the first one to run into the ocean and then turning around with her arms out to invite everyone to come join her. She taught the little kids how to jump the waves. She kept everyone highly entertained while helping us keep our eyes out for everyone's safety. I swear, the good Lord has blessed me with this amazing young woman as a reward for not killing her when she was little.
Jolie actually smiled and seemed not to mind being around us which was a weird change. Lately, if it does not include her group of friends, she is simply not interested. It was pretty awesome to see her just content with her family. No computers and no cell service did some good I'd say. I hate to point out that she only has two more years of high school before she graduates. I am cherishing every minute of the attention she will give us. Watching her play on the beach brought back so many sweet memories of her as a baby on the beach. It was she and I against the world back then.
And then, there was Nicholas chasing the birds and running like there was no tomorrow all across the beach. He loved standing in the surf, laughing every time the ocean was pulled back away from him as the next wave was building up. He would look down and watch his little feet as the water rushed over them and he would lose his balance as the sandy floor was being sucked out from under him. He would look all worried and say, "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" while his little arms flapped in circles trying to steady himself. And then the next wave would hit and he would smile and burst out laughing. Again and again!
My sister and her husband and daughter came along too and it was so nice to see them after we'd been apart for so long. My niece, Wiley has grown and changed so much. She and Mollie played as if they saw each other every day.
Then, alas, my husband. Even though we were both totally and completely miserable with our lack of sleep and our nerves trying to recover from the road trip, I must say that holding hands with my best friend on the beach as we watched our kids frolic in the surf was a total breath of everlasting fresh air. I can't imagine going on this or any adventure without him. Which is why I vowed I would NOT kill him on the way home... plus he was driving, so that would not have been good.
Peace, Love, and all that, y'all!
Abigail
That kid has night vision because when I would let him loose, he really could get into things around the condo. I was afraid to fall asleep without knowing for absolute certain he was asleep because he could have started a fire or escaped which he has done before. Then, once he finally was asleep, I slept with one eye open, of course even though that boy will go and go and go and then pass out like a rock and will sleep through anything, just apparently not until 4:00 am.
And the traveling part...Whoa! Don't even get me started. Let's just say, during our 6 hour road trip which took 8 hours with 7 people cramped in a small space for that span of time, made me contemplate: divorce, suicide, and homicide. And then, of course, there was the car ride home which was worse than the ride there.
But when we were actually on the beach itself, I can tell you a different story. Like how awesome it was to see the look of wonder on Mollie's face when she laid eyes on the Atlantic ocean for the first time since she was a little baby. And the way she let go of my hand and ran through the cool, wet sand straight for the waves so fearlessly. And the way she would giggle when the cold, cold salty water would splash all over her and the way she merrily plopped herself down in the sand making sand angles as if she were in the middle of snow.
And Fischer, my ever curious 9 year old was in his element being out there with the wind blowing his mop of blonde hair. He seemed totally in tune with the sea and the sand. Watching him dig to China and build spectacular sand castles made me feel so, so, happy. Fischer my little sensitive soul is such a thoughtful Buddha. During the school year, he is always so busy, but to have a week of him just being himself, was divine. If ever you get to hang out with this dude, you would see what I mean. He is so cool.
Sydney took charge as the little mama, of course. It was either her joy to be nurturing or her excuse to be young and unencumbered by embarrassment to play right along with the little kids. She was the first one to run into the ocean and then turning around with her arms out to invite everyone to come join her. She taught the little kids how to jump the waves. She kept everyone highly entertained while helping us keep our eyes out for everyone's safety. I swear, the good Lord has blessed me with this amazing young woman as a reward for not killing her when she was little.
Jolie actually smiled and seemed not to mind being around us which was a weird change. Lately, if it does not include her group of friends, she is simply not interested. It was pretty awesome to see her just content with her family. No computers and no cell service did some good I'd say. I hate to point out that she only has two more years of high school before she graduates. I am cherishing every minute of the attention she will give us. Watching her play on the beach brought back so many sweet memories of her as a baby on the beach. It was she and I against the world back then.
And then, there was Nicholas chasing the birds and running like there was no tomorrow all across the beach. He loved standing in the surf, laughing every time the ocean was pulled back away from him as the next wave was building up. He would look down and watch his little feet as the water rushed over them and he would lose his balance as the sandy floor was being sucked out from under him. He would look all worried and say, "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" while his little arms flapped in circles trying to steady himself. And then the next wave would hit and he would smile and burst out laughing. Again and again!
My sister and her husband and daughter came along too and it was so nice to see them after we'd been apart for so long. My niece, Wiley has grown and changed so much. She and Mollie played as if they saw each other every day.
Then, alas, my husband. Even though we were both totally and completely miserable with our lack of sleep and our nerves trying to recover from the road trip, I must say that holding hands with my best friend on the beach as we watched our kids frolic in the surf was a total breath of everlasting fresh air. I can't imagine going on this or any adventure without him. Which is why I vowed I would NOT kill him on the way home... plus he was driving, so that would not have been good.
Peace, Love, and all that, y'all!
Abigail
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Our Special Tonya
Nicholas is the sweetest little boy. But do not touch his hair or his ears. Taking him to get a hair cut is nothing short of a major ordeal. It wears him out. It wears me out. It wears the hairdresser out. And it wears out whoever I have talked into helping me hold Nicholas down to the chair while the event takes place.
Funny thing is, when Nicholas has to get blood drawn or go to the dentist, he is more than fine. He actually seems to like that kind of thing. He is not afraid of needles, shots, finger pricks, or having weird instruments in his mouth to clean his teeth. But having his hair shampooed, brushed, combed or cut, or having his ears touched, seems to be like the worst thing in the world to him.
We have known about this issue for a long time. It is why I like Nicholas' hair more on the shaggy long side because he has a lot of trouble sitting still for one of those short hair cuts. I mean, whatever the beautician can do for him, must be accomplished in five minutes or less. We must be forgiving of stray hairs and if one side is longer or shorter than the other. (though our beautician is quite amazing and you would be amazed what a good job she does, considering what she must go through!)
Luckily, my friend, Tonya is the one who cuts his hair and she has it all down to a science. We may scare other customers in her beauty shop, and they may run out and call the police on us for what they might view as abusing a child, but Tonya is not scared. That woman is on a mission when we come in.
Tonya takes a deep breath and she twirls her scissors and her clippers and that woman goes to town! I hold Nicholas in a vice grip, Fischer dances around trying to offer his Game Boy, Sydney does her autism whisper magic, and Tonya holds his head in as lovingly as possible a way against her chest and she snips away one side and then we all switch and she does the other.
All the while, Nicholas is crying, SCREAMING, kicking, trying to get down, and spitting. He shakes his head violently between snips and spit is flung out all over the beauty parlor. His wisps of blond hair go flying in all directions. It gets in my nose and in my eyes and all over Tonya. He actually looks like a wild animal. It is hard to describe what it looks like when every muscle in Nicholas' little body is rigid and he is hollering like we are about to kill him.
Then, it is over. And Nicholas gets a lollipop from Tonya and a big hug. He instantly changes and is happy. He looks in the mirror and smiles. He loves his new hair cut and I am sure he is grateful to get it out of his eyes. Sydney and Fischer take him to the playground and he gets to swing and slide. He loves it. He cries when we have to leave.
I am so grateful for all the early intervention stuff Nicholas gets. Everyone loves a preschooler with special needs. Autistic kids are so interesting and cute. But it is really people like Tonya, just my sweet friend, who make such a difference in our every day lives. I know I couldn't take Nicholas to get his hair cut anywhere else, nor would I want to. Tonya told me that she googled Autism just so she could learn more about it and could help Nicholas and his hair cutting events. I love that about her. She is so special. (photo of the cute hair cut coming soon)
Funny thing is, when Nicholas has to get blood drawn or go to the dentist, he is more than fine. He actually seems to like that kind of thing. He is not afraid of needles, shots, finger pricks, or having weird instruments in his mouth to clean his teeth. But having his hair shampooed, brushed, combed or cut, or having his ears touched, seems to be like the worst thing in the world to him.
We have known about this issue for a long time. It is why I like Nicholas' hair more on the shaggy long side because he has a lot of trouble sitting still for one of those short hair cuts. I mean, whatever the beautician can do for him, must be accomplished in five minutes or less. We must be forgiving of stray hairs and if one side is longer or shorter than the other. (though our beautician is quite amazing and you would be amazed what a good job she does, considering what she must go through!)
Luckily, my friend, Tonya is the one who cuts his hair and she has it all down to a science. We may scare other customers in her beauty shop, and they may run out and call the police on us for what they might view as abusing a child, but Tonya is not scared. That woman is on a mission when we come in.
Tonya takes a deep breath and she twirls her scissors and her clippers and that woman goes to town! I hold Nicholas in a vice grip, Fischer dances around trying to offer his Game Boy, Sydney does her autism whisper magic, and Tonya holds his head in as lovingly as possible a way against her chest and she snips away one side and then we all switch and she does the other.
All the while, Nicholas is crying, SCREAMING, kicking, trying to get down, and spitting. He shakes his head violently between snips and spit is flung out all over the beauty parlor. His wisps of blond hair go flying in all directions. It gets in my nose and in my eyes and all over Tonya. He actually looks like a wild animal. It is hard to describe what it looks like when every muscle in Nicholas' little body is rigid and he is hollering like we are about to kill him.
Then, it is over. And Nicholas gets a lollipop from Tonya and a big hug. He instantly changes and is happy. He looks in the mirror and smiles. He loves his new hair cut and I am sure he is grateful to get it out of his eyes. Sydney and Fischer take him to the playground and he gets to swing and slide. He loves it. He cries when we have to leave.
I am so grateful for all the early intervention stuff Nicholas gets. Everyone loves a preschooler with special needs. Autistic kids are so interesting and cute. But it is really people like Tonya, just my sweet friend, who make such a difference in our every day lives. I know I couldn't take Nicholas to get his hair cut anywhere else, nor would I want to. Tonya told me that she googled Autism just so she could learn more about it and could help Nicholas and his hair cutting events. I love that about her. She is so special. (photo of the cute hair cut coming soon)
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Nicholas turns 4!
Nicholas turned 4 on the 13th of February. He had a family party at Fun World which is his favorite place in the world. He got so excited when he saw the building and since it was really cold and windy, I scooped him out of his car seat and stuffed him inside my coat and ran to the entrance with Mollie and Fischer holding on to us and Jolie, Sydney and Adrian running behind us. Once we got inside, Nicholas simply could not contain his excitement. He was choking on his laughter and smiling from ear to ear. I gently put him down and his little legs starting going all Charlie Brown. He runs straight legged and his feet just switch back and forth so rapidly, he looks like he's floating and perhaps he is. It's very Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragonish.
While Adrian paid for the children's admissions, Nicholas ran (or flew) to the Foam Factory where he played merrily for a long time. You could hear his squeals of joy over all the noise and chaos in that place. He was so tickled to be there.
We all had a marvelous time. When we got back home, we watched Nicholas blow out candles on his birthday cake. Four candles? I can't believe it has been four years already since he came into the world. Wasn't it just yesterday all the nursing students interning at the hospital were in our delivery room so they could see an actual natural birth and I was showing off saying I was going to do it like the women in the rice fields and just squat down and "hey, y'all, watch this." And just as the baby passed through what is often referred to as "The Ring of Fire" a sacred place in the birthing woman's body where the pain peaks and she believes she is actually going to die...and the woman actually does die so that the mother can be born. And so it was that a new part of me was born in the same moment my son was born. And even though he was my fifth baby, I still had to be born again. And as he immediately was put to my breast and began nursing right away, I knew I had somehow managed again, rightfully undeservedly, to have delivered a perfect little baby.
And here, four years later, my perfect baby boy went for his check up at the doctor's office and still we are facing unknown medical problems. Could it be the craneostenosis? A pituitary disorder? More and more test are needed but at this point it seems the autism is secondary to an underlining medical disorder that we have yet to figure out. And yet, still this wonderful human being, Nicholas, is perfect. He is just right as himself and no one else could be him. And he could not be anyone else. He is 2 years behind physically and 2 years behind developmentally. Adrian says he's just developing at a slow rate all together and will live to be 900 years old and is probably a prophet or something. He's an angel for sure. Nicholas truly lives in the present moment. He has no concept of the future or of the past. Although he recognizes that certain events repeat like going to school and he likes his routine. But Nicholas is a Buddha when it comes to accepting the present moment and just being pure.
So, as he blew out the birthday candles and cried tears of joy as we sang happy birthday to him which we sang in sign language too, I wondered if he made a wish and I know he didn't. Not just because he is unfamiliar with such an abstract concept of making a wish, but that he has no concept of wanting anything he doesn't already have. He is the poster child for contentment.
Then, Adrian picked up the cake to take it to the kitchen for cutting. His hands lost their balance and the tray tipped, it slipped, and it did a double flip right on top of Mollie's head! Blue, red, yellow and green icing balloons went cascading down our 5 year old's long, sliky, brown hair. I couldn't stop laughing.
The cake tasted pretty good.
While Adrian paid for the children's admissions, Nicholas ran (or flew) to the Foam Factory where he played merrily for a long time. You could hear his squeals of joy over all the noise and chaos in that place. He was so tickled to be there.
We all had a marvelous time. When we got back home, we watched Nicholas blow out candles on his birthday cake. Four candles? I can't believe it has been four years already since he came into the world. Wasn't it just yesterday all the nursing students interning at the hospital were in our delivery room so they could see an actual natural birth and I was showing off saying I was going to do it like the women in the rice fields and just squat down and "hey, y'all, watch this." And just as the baby passed through what is often referred to as "The Ring of Fire" a sacred place in the birthing woman's body where the pain peaks and she believes she is actually going to die...and the woman actually does die so that the mother can be born. And so it was that a new part of me was born in the same moment my son was born. And even though he was my fifth baby, I still had to be born again. And as he immediately was put to my breast and began nursing right away, I knew I had somehow managed again, rightfully undeservedly, to have delivered a perfect little baby.
And here, four years later, my perfect baby boy went for his check up at the doctor's office and still we are facing unknown medical problems. Could it be the craneostenosis? A pituitary disorder? More and more test are needed but at this point it seems the autism is secondary to an underlining medical disorder that we have yet to figure out. And yet, still this wonderful human being, Nicholas, is perfect. He is just right as himself and no one else could be him. And he could not be anyone else. He is 2 years behind physically and 2 years behind developmentally. Adrian says he's just developing at a slow rate all together and will live to be 900 years old and is probably a prophet or something. He's an angel for sure. Nicholas truly lives in the present moment. He has no concept of the future or of the past. Although he recognizes that certain events repeat like going to school and he likes his routine. But Nicholas is a Buddha when it comes to accepting the present moment and just being pure.
So, as he blew out the birthday candles and cried tears of joy as we sang happy birthday to him which we sang in sign language too, I wondered if he made a wish and I know he didn't. Not just because he is unfamiliar with such an abstract concept of making a wish, but that he has no concept of wanting anything he doesn't already have. He is the poster child for contentment.
Then, Adrian picked up the cake to take it to the kitchen for cutting. His hands lost their balance and the tray tipped, it slipped, and it did a double flip right on top of Mollie's head! Blue, red, yellow and green icing balloons went cascading down our 5 year old's long, sliky, brown hair. I couldn't stop laughing.
The cake tasted pretty good.
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