Being the calm to his storm...

My son Hunter is 4. He has Tourettes Syndrome, as well as Anxiety, OCD, and we begin tests for Autism this week. He has many triggers that can cause an absolute melt down which includes kicking and screaming, throwing his body no matter what is around him, and being inconsolable. His 2 year old sister causes a LOT of these upsets. She breaks his legos, or takes something he's playing with and runs away, or touches him when he doesn't want to be touched. I am constantly policing their play time, and spend hours explaining to Hunter that Emma isn't trying to break his toys, but to play with him. Its exhausting, and as I try to continue my own daily responsibilities like wash the laundry, or stir the boiling pot of pasta, I am almost ALWAYS interrupted during these tasks to try and calm Hunter. Some days I am just as on edge as he is, he starts to escalate his screams and I feel like screaming right along with him. I have literally had to re-train my emotions to force myself into a polar opposite state of calm when he gets upset. I walk over to him and depending on how upset he is, I either explain whats happening and why he's upset, or I just hold him and model for him the calm behavior I wish him to exhibit. Its hard. Some days I look like a calm pool of tranquility when really I am screaming inside just as loudly as he is, and its not always out of frustration. Some days those screams are out of sadness because my poor baby is living in a world where everything seems to upset him.

I am positive that when Hunter and I are out and about at the grocery store and he sees a toy he wants and I say no, and his anxiety from that triggers a fit, that people assume I am a terrible parent who spoils their child. I'm positive that when he starts ticking in public and someone imitates him to his face, that those moments will hurt him as he gets older. But the thing is this, I can't explain my son's medical history to every gawking and judgmental stranger who stands watching me in a grocery store isle. I can't explain that I HAVE to hug and hold him in order to get him to calm down, and that a spanking would inflame the situation.

My son is special needs, and I am not ashamed of that, but I am exhausted, emotional, and protective. I do everything in my power to remain calm, but some days I can't. Some days I get angry, and then at night while he sleeps calmly in his bed, I sneak in and stroke his hair and cry with guilt. I'm sorry for yelling today buddy, I remind myself to forgive myself, and then the next day I tell him how proud I am of him for his good listening. I'm human, and being human is hard. It's so hard that God sent his only son to come to experience JUST how hard it is, so instead of saying "I hear you" when I pray, he says "I know..I too have felt that pain." God has taught me that Hunter will teach many people patience, joy, and bring healing and inner reflection. He has for me, he teaches me so many things every day, and I am a better person because of my son.

John 9:1-3

1 As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. 

2 His disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this manor his parents, that he was born blind?" 

3 "Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus, "but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.

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Meeting his Heroes...

Hunter has been taken to Dr. appointment after lab test after Dr. appointment in these past few weeks, and after a few emails between myself and our local Fire department as well as my neighbor getting in contact with a relative who is a Fire Captain, I was able to bring Hunter and Emma to see 2 Fire Stations here in Fremont.

At our first visit, Hunter was extremely quiet. He didn't want to shake anyone's hand, or climb in the truck, or wear the sticker, or the hat they gave him, but the whole way home after an extensive tour from the sweetest Firefighter, he was a chatty cathy and went on and on about how much fun he had at the Fire Station!

Today our neighbor whom the kids call "Uncle Chris" because he really is more like an Uncle than just a neighbor, took us to visit his Uncle who is the Fire Captain at his station. The kids got to see both fire engine and truck and then walked into the kitchen area and were greeted by an entire table of real Fire Fighters!! Hunter was a little star struck. He was smiling this huge grin, but wouldn't leave my side. Emma on the other hand was all flirts and giggles, and when they handed her a lollipop and said "Thank you.." all sing songy I swear every fire fighter in there said "Awww." and one said "I think that was the cutest 'Thank you' I've ever heard." HAHA ya...come by at about 7:45pm when she's cranky and mean...then see how you feel.  The kids had so much fun and enjoyed their green lollipops at home while they ran around fighting imaginary fires.

I was so glad to take Hunter for a trip outside the house that wasn't another Dr. appointment. I hope to bring Hunter back again, the first fire station we visited said we were always welcome to come back. I want Hunter to get used to seeing new places and meeting these Heroes. Maybe we will bring a plate of cookies next time. :)

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Waiting for the Fruits

When Jason and I moved into our house we live in now back in 2012, we looked at the giant Bush/Tree in our backyard in confusion. It was the only thing in our backyard that was green and we had no idea what it was. I planted bulbs along the opposite side of the yard, and trimmed our rose bushes, and watered the mystery bush. Everytime I went outside to water our plants I would water that bush. Would it yield fruit? "Maybe in the spring.." I thought to myself. Then Spring came, and Summer, and Fall and then Winter again. Still no fruit. Still I watered. Finally in Feb of 2015 Jason came excitedly inside saying "There's fruit on the bush!" I got so excited, and I ran outside. Sure enough there were tiny orange fruits that we later found out to be Loquats. After all these years, and all the watering, it finally yielded some fruit, and it was FULL of fruit.

I stood outside in the sun, a break from our few days of rain, with my red colander in hand and I picked the loquats from our tree while my children played in the grass. This month has been especially difficult, with Jason's Union on Strike, still not being hired by any local Police, Hunter's diagnosis of Tourettes accompanied by Anxiety and possibly other things we will need more tests for. Its been a true test of my resilience as I dealt with real grief and the delay of dreams I had for myself. I've struggled with anger, confusion, and feeling guilt, but continuing to press forward. I couldn't help notice the small message in the fruit I picked with my hands, rolling their fuzzy plumpness in my hand before placing them in my colander. The faith that if I continue to water my faith, even in seasons of dryness, that eventually it will yield fruit, or at least the hope of fruits. I have to see the small blessings in this tough time. The joy of being a surrogate again! The love I receive from my children all the time, the support of family ready to catch me if I need. Its all watering my soul, and I will continue to water one day at a time.

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My son has Tourettes Syndrome.

This past week my son turned 4. He was also officially diagnosed with Tourettes. Why am I choosing to write about this so publicly? I think the main reason I do it is to protect my son. I feel that by making those I know aware of his Tourettes, it protects him from any embarrassment or misunderstandings. He has "Tics" that he does, that he NEEDS to do. Its like when you have an itch, and you can't NOT scratch it. He can't prevent his tic-ing.

Tourettes Syndrome:Tourette syndrome (also called Tourette's syndrome, Tourette's disorder, Gilles de la Tourette syndrome, GTS or, more commonly, simply Tourette's or TS) is an inherited neuropsychiatric disorder with onset in childhood, characterized by multiple physical (motor) tics and at least one vocal (phonic) tic. These tics characteristically wax and wane, can be suppressed temporarily, and are preceded by a premonitory urge. Tourette's is defined as part of a spectrum of tic disorders, which includes provisional, transient and persistent (chronic) tics.

Hunter has had several tics that have changed over time. Wiping his mouth repeatedly to the point of drying out, coughing even while eating, hard eye blinking, and most recently he clicks the back of his throat but sometimes it gets so bad that he stops breathing so that he can do it. 

I'm not writing this to draw attention to or to dramatize anything, this is something he will struggle with. I want to normalize it for him, to not allow it to fall into the shadows and never talked about. I want those who know and love him to know he isn't being naughty or misbehaving. His actions are not preventable. I'm hoping to learn different techniques for how to discipline him as he also has high anxiety and possibly OCD. He strives on routine. I sometimes feel exhausted trying to monitor and make sure that his triggers are avoided so that we can avoid a tantrum. I try not to hover while he plays but I always feel ready to swoop in and explain why he's freaking out about one thing or another to the other child's parent. I'm still learning about this...and I'm just asking for some patience and support from my friends and family as we figure this all out. I'm hoping that if we are all aware of what he's dealing with, that we can all find loving ways to help him. 

To read more on Tourettes:
http://www.ninds.nih.gov/disorders/tourette/detail_tourette.htm

Please watch this too...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPmpIY7XJVE

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The Ladies of Thursday

Ever since I was little, the "Ladies of Thursday" would meet in the Johnson-Shaner room at the United Methodist Church in my hometown. These ladies would meet every Thursday morning until 2pm and I would play with the toys in the toy cupboard while they worked on quilts, flower arrangements, paintings, knitting, and any other craft they had brought with them to work on. My brother would bring his legos or Star Wars toys and I would bring my Barbies and we played for hours with our church friends while our mothers and Grandmothers chatted and worked.

20 years later, and I am now the mother sitting at the table and crafting with my mother and grandmothers. My children now play at the feet of this tribe of supportive women, while we come together to support each other through losses of husbands, jobs, letting our children go to college, arguments with our spouses, family, rejoicing in new children and grandchildren, and the selecting of colors when it's time to paint the house. We value each other's opinions, and support each other through years of life experience. It's become our community of mothers who do more than just sew and hot glue, we love, and we nurture, and we scold, and we grow together. I look forward to "Workshop" every Thursday. It's my net of women who know exactly why I'm exhausted. They know exactly why I'm happy and sad because they have been with me every step of the way. This is my village. It takes them all.

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Letters from War

Jason and I were married on Aug 22nd, 2009. 2 months after we were married, Jason and his infantry unit in the Marine Corps deployed to Afghanistan for a 9 month deployment. On the night before Jason deployed, I found out I was pregnant. I remember coming out of the bathroom in our hotel room at the Best Western, and just stared at Jason laying on the bed. He was leaving the next morning, and he was leaving as a father and a husband. On the Marine corps birthday I found out that we lost our baby. I was devastated, but the Marine Corps allowed my husband to come be with me as the emotional toll on us both was pretty intense. After his emergency leave, he went back, and he was helicoptered into a "shit-storm" the news kept calling "Operation Angry Cobra." I dropped him off at the airport, turned on the news, and knew it would be weeks before I heard anything from him. Sometimes when a Marine or Soldier deploys they are in whats called a FOB (Forward Operating Base), and there they have computers and phones where Marines and Soldiers can call home or video chat. Other times they are sent to small encampments where the only line of communication is snail mail (letters), or the occasional Satellite phone when a drop was made of food and supplies. Jason was in the latter. It was then that these letters would come. Its was like hearing an echo of his voice that I knew was spoken weeks before I heard it. Sometimes it would take 2 weeks for me to get a letter, and I wondered what has happened with him in the meantime.

Today I pulled out those letter as I do every now and then, and I let myself feel again. I read our words to each other and I feel it all over again, the fear..oh God the fear, the longing for him to be home, the desire to relate every small detail of my day, even the mundane as a man in war strives on the mundane. It brings him home. I read how we spoke to each other after only a few months of marriage, the endearing words, the promises and the dreams. How we dreamed of a family, and where we would live. My letters still smelled weakly of the perfume I would drench the paper in and I imagined how Jason's nose must have grazed the paper to smell it amidst the dust and dirt and blood of war.

I tied my letters back up again, and hugged the me that echoed around me from 2009. Sometimes I think back at it all and say "How did I do that? How did we get through that really difficult time in our lives?" and the answer is always "We just did....one day at a time." I think it's good to reflect back with a removed observance. It's not healthy to dwell, but to taste those feelings again so I never forget, is like stepping back into a dream where I know the ending, but I can still experience those feelings again.

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I am a child of Divorce...twice.

When I was in the middle of 4th grade my entire world "crashed" and "crumbled" around me. My parents never screamed at each other, they never yelled, they weren't unkind or angry around my brother and me, so divorce was not a word I expected to ever hear them say. Divorce was what happened when people fought all the time! Divorce was what happened to other families, not mine. We went on summer trips across the country, had special dinners in front of the TV every now and then with a movie and wobbly brown folding trays. We went fishing, and my parents would jam out to Earth Wind and Fire in the kitchen. Sailing by Christopher Cross will always remind me of a car ride where I witnessed my parents smile at each other and reach across to hold hands. THIS was my family...and my family was not a family I ever thought would divorce. I was about 11 or 12, and everything I knew began to change. I remember when one night before my parents told us they were getting a divorce, my dad came home from work and rang our doorbell. I remember thinking "Who's here? Its almost dinner time." I opened the door to see my dad standing there and my mom uncomfortably from the kitchen said he could come in. Of course he could come in! He's Dad! Right?... Two days later my mom and dad sat my little brother and me on our floral print couch in the family room (ironic right?) and told us that my dad would be living at my Grandparents house for a while. I was confused, but figured everything would eventually work it's self out. I remember watching my mom putting dishes away in the kitchen the next day and I asked "Mom? Are you and Dad going to get a divorce?" I had asked this before in the past, not out of genuine curiosity but because I had heard other kids talk about divorce at school, and the answer had always been "I will never want a divorce." but this time she quietly said "I don't know." That answer sent a rush of anxiety through me. She doesn't know?? The answer is supposed to be "No honey blah blah blah.." The next day they told us they were divorcing. I remember feeling like I had left my body. I threw myself into their laps and all 4 of us cried. My dad sobbed, my mother cried (partly in anger because she did not want to divorce), and I cried because in my mind the family I knew had just died. My brother was upset because we were all upset, and I don't remember the rest of that night. I don't remember anything past that couch.

I'm not writing this blog post to bash my father at all, or to paint him as anything remotely close to a failure because he is not, or to have anyone feel sorry for my family because at this point in our lives, years later, we are all better for the divorce. What I want to share with you is what my parents did absolutely RIGHT.

I struggled in 5th grade with my school work, and in 6th grade, and in 7th grade, and in 8th grade. It was a rough couple years. My mom re-married my wonderful Step-father who has honestly become my second Dad. I am blessed to say I feel I have two Dads. My dad married what would be his second wife, and she had 2 boys. My dad, first step-mother, brother, and her boys made up a brand new family! I loved my brothers. We shared years together of our childhood that included many more family vacations, boating trips, baseball games, christmas mornings with brand new pajamas, new houses, and surprise midnight trips to Universal Studios. I had two brand new families and for the most part (even though there were some major bumps) we adjusted well. My parents chose to put my brother and me first in every situation. It didn't matter if they were arguing about one thing or another...when it came down to the needs of their kids they were always on the same team. Even divorced they were the parenting "team." Eventually they even included my step parents in school discussions, or talks about behaviors etc. THIS is what I want to talk about...as a child of divorce, who's foundation had been removed and rearranged, the one thing that remained consistent and that saved me, was that they put aside all differences when it came to me. Every time I needed them... I had them. They were there, and in the side wings of their lives, they were still the parenting duo.

About 7 years ago, my dad divorced his second wife, and I lost another family. Even thought my relationship with my step-mother was less than stellar, my brothers were gone, and the reality is that I didn't get to say goodbye, or ever see them again. That for me was traumatic. I had moved to LA for school at that point, and wasn't in their house anymore, but the effects hit me even from far away. I see every now and then on Facebook an update on their lives and they seem genuinely happy, but I miss them a lot. We shared a life together. We share a good chunk of our childhood.

My dad is remarried again, and while I wouldn't say I am very close with my dad's wife I am extremely happy that he is happy. Starting a new family in adulthood results in a very different dynamic, not a bad one, just different. I'm happy to say I see my new step-mom at Christmas and my Kid's birthdays and we laugh and enjoy each other's company, but because we met in adulthood the relationship I've developed with her will always be different from the one I have with my step-father. All I ever want for my parents is for them to be happy in their lives, and I am lucky that my parents have never stopped that communication and open line of love when it came to me.

So to my readers who are divorced parents I ask you... If your relationship allows (meaning if one spouse is not bat-shit crazy) please try to remember your children first. Don't pit them against your ex, or use them as ammunition. My father could have uprooted our family from the home my brother and I knew, but he wanted my mom to continue to live there with my brother and I, to give us stability. He took the lesser of the cars in the divorce and though someone could say "as he should," the truth is that a lot of men wouldn't. But my dad did. My parents wanted their children to feel safe and stable in an unstable time and did all they could together to make that a reality. Think of your children during this time of divorce. Their little souls are going through a lot, and they need you to show them that through everything, that you both love them, and will never stop working together to help them grow and learn. This is what my parents taught me. I promise you that your sacrifice to work with you ex in a loving way is worth it to your child. I promise you.

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