In the house that built me..

Some may say that choosing to live in your parents house again as a family is a step backwards, but I can't express enough how wonderful it has been. Its been healthy and healing. Imagine how for centuries humans lived together in large family groups. Joys and frustrations were shared and nothing was shouldered alone. We've rotated our cooking dinners, and discovered that it gives all of us a break.

Then there is the unexpected beauty of seeing my children playing in the rooms I grew up in. On the wooden floors I played with my own brother on. I enjoy sticking my head through the doors and seeing my children play with my brother's old legos the exact way we used to play as children. Its oddly healing to be "home" again as a family, preparing to launch again into the world and into our own home and adventures. Its wonderful seeing my step dad snuggle with his grandson while he watched the Giants game at night, or hear my babies run barefoot down the hallway in the morning s to greet grandma having tea in the dining room.

This is a phase. It will pass quickly and be gone. I am settling in it comfortably and enjoying it before it is a moment and chapter to add in the pages of our family story.

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Closing chapters..

Maybe it's because I'm a writer, but I tend to view phases and stages in life as chapters of a book, or railroad tracks. Sometimes we journey through life and transition slowly into our next phase of life the way a railroad track would transition slowly from one country to the next, not realizing the change even happened until we look up and compare terrains. Other times we transition abruptly, and with finality, the way a chapter ends with half the page blank, forcing us to turn over the paper and presenting us with the number or title of what is to come next. Often times with such chapter endings there is some feeling of longing for a more rounded closure, or a wish to continue in the feelings and lingering emotions of that chapter before stepping into what is sometimes an entirely new setting. That is the way I feel with this move...

We move out of our home for the past 3 years tomorrow. We will be living at my parent's home saving money for our (hopeful) move to San Diego in October. I have loved this house. It was the first home we lived in for longer than a year since being married, it was the house my daughter was born in and the only home she has known. We have found family in our neighbors next door, and I cannot think of a day without seeing them next door without tears welling up in my eyes. My children have grown to listen for their voices come through our open front window which always meant that our neighbors were stopping by for a chat. I know also that we will still and probably always be involved in each other's lives because of the relationship we have made, but it's still so sobering to know that the chapter where they are our neighbors is over.

I will miss our awful backyard grass that dies every summer no matter how many times I water it. I will miss the Ghost that ties my blind cord into knots during the night just to irritate me, who whistles from the back of the house, and who moves things around until the second I curse him aloud. I will miss the hardwood floors that cause bits of food to stick to the bottoms of my feet. I will miss the back door that is incredibly heavy and hard to open because the roll track is broken. I will miss our little box of a shower. I will miss how bright this house is with morning and evening sun. I will miss watching the old asian man across the street pain his brick driveway, then tear it up, rotate it and paint it again. I will miss the elderly couple on our other side screaming profanities at each other...oh no wait..I won't miss that.

This house really has felt like home. I know and knew from the beginning that it was never "ours" as a rental..but it sure felt like ours. I will miss my kids echoing my sing songy voice say "We're home!" as we bounce into the driveway after a drive. I'm hoping when we visit Brian and Linda our neighbors sometime soon that the kids won't ask to go "home." I don't think I could handle hearing they miss it too.

We love you house.. We will miss this Chapter in the Book of our Family.

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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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