our sunday photo, etc.
1.12.2010
don't call it a comeback
WELL.
2010, however, will rock and also be filled with (no doubt) challenging moments, but also bright & shiny AWESOME (which happens to be Zane's latest and greatest fave word and it makes me smile every time).
The talented and awesome Lowe Photography took some really great shots.
Presenting: The Second Annual Christmas Card That Never Was.
December didn't quite go as planned for me and my family. Pretty much the understatement of 2009.
2010, however, will rock and also be filled with (no doubt) challenging moments, but also bright & shiny AWESOME (which happens to be Zane's latest and greatest fave word and it makes me smile every time).
The talented and awesome Lowe Photography took some really great shots.
Presenting: The Second Annual Christmas Card That Never Was.
1.06.2010
12.11.2009
I'd like to keep my cheeks dry today
So Zane has started at a new school with a new class and a new teacher. It's an environment designed specifically for Autistic kids at all levels on the spectrum. It has made a hugely positive impact on him!
Through this journey, this story of Zane, I have had a lot of people over the years scoff at the idea of labeling a child. I used to be offended when mothers would put down the idea of a label. I remember that I felt the same way, until I had a child of my own that needed help. The kind of help I cannot provide on my own alone. So I began my search to understand him and help him. That journey has taken us down paths that we might not have preferred, which led to a wrong diagnosis and wrong class environment with emotional disabilities. And while that time in the wrong place affected him negatively and he had been regressing all the while, it feels amazing to have the correct information and correct class now and know he is coming back to himself again.
To watch him in the sensory room is my heart exploding with joy. To see his temper tantrums and frustration change to smiles with positive interest in his siblings again is awesome. He asked to hold his sister this morning. He has not noticed her much at all for so many weeks, maybe even months? He was holding Evan's hand this morning and asking if he could show him the classroom. He used his napkin at breakfast! He is using his words again instead of temper tantrums that reflect a 3 year old. He is happy. It's like he went away to a day spa, he is so much more calm and happy. Him being in the right place has changed him and our entire family dynamic. Two of my favorite experiences this have been this:
1) Zane has a hard time changing the words in his prayers. He says the exact same thing every single time- it's adorable, however, we have been teaching him to pray for personal and specific things for years. Reminding him about things he could say besides the usual. Sometimes he has included being grateful for another relative, but it's not very often and it's usually when that person is present. This week Zane was saying his prayers and after he talked about being grateful for each immediate family member like usual, he added that he was thankful for Miss K (his new teacher). He wasn't even prompted! That was so awesome.
2) This morning in the car Zane helped Evan say the morning prayer. One word at a time. And they both folded their arms peacefully and calmly said the morning prayer together. For the first time ever. What a treat. Normally it's screaming, yelling, fighting. It's amazing the way a household is run when the kids are getting what they need. He's really getting what he needs in this class and it's making a huge, positive impact at home. We are so lucky.
That isn't to say he is cured. Autism Spectrum Disorder comes with a whole package of things that make him different and those will be worked with. In a place that supports his needs with people that know all around him how to do it. This part of our experience reminds me of the Blind Melon video No Rain. Where the little girl dressed in her bee costume feels to lost and sad everywhere she goes. BUT! In the end she finds a grassy hill where all these other people are dancing around all happy in their bee costumes, too! You have to watch it here.
It's a process to figure this out in the midst of our introduction into the public school system. While my memories of kindergarten involve painting rainbows and using glitter and glue, Zane's memories might be much different. Some sad and hard, but I am betting from here forward it will be incredibly amazing and joyful the way kindergarten should be for him and who he is.
I am so grateful this year for every single teacher on the planet. Especially those in the special needs field. How amazing that there are people on this earth who took the time and personal decision to learn about special needs without having a personal need to (or child of their own with a label). And our family gets to benefit from their learning, big heart, knowledge, experiences, abilities, and strengths.
I didn't know when I went to college what life would bring me. So I followed my interests and opportunities The Lord guided me to. I hope along that path I made people happy by helping them with my work. And while I wish I knew more about special needs and Autism before I needed to, I can simply appreciate that while I was growing my special little boy in my tummy some other people followed their interests and opportunities so they would be prepared to help kids like my little boy. And holy cow there's so much gratitude consuming me right now for every single one of those people on the earth. It's inspiring to me. And reminds me much of the reason we got put on this earth. To help each other out. Be tested. Make good decisions. And return to Him.
12.06.2009
let the wind kiss your hair
WILD SWEET ORANGE
I can't place exactly what I like so much about this band.
Something about their sound and this video reminds me of missing every single friend I have ever met.
Or maybe it's the unassuming look/ sound they have. With a {seemingly} belly full of passion that creates musical appeal to me.
Maybe it just inspires me. Reminds me of my lonesome little drum kit shoved into the corner of our bedroom waiting for me to grab some friends and make some noise with it again on a more regular basis.
Or maybe it's just this lead singer's bow tie mixed with his friendly curls and innocent tooth gap that makes me just wish all their band dreams come true.
Oh, have you ever just stood there, And watched the sun touch the land?
11.30.2009
what is the goliath in your life?
I was thinking about this talk lately. About The Goliaths in our lives, the hard things that seem like bigger trials than we seem to be able to take on. But we do. And they are not forever. And with Courage, Effort, Humility, Prayer, and Duty we get through them. Usually not as quickly as we would prefer. And not always with the exact results we want. But they will one day be behind us. While we wait for or begin to take on another Goliath.
The Prophet talks about the details leading up to David taking out Goliath with his one stone and slingshot. My own summary can't do it justice. Then it leads into these parts below I like:
Well might we look carefully into our own lives and judge our courage, our faith. Is there a Goliath in your life? Is there one in mine? Does he stand squarely between you and your desired happiness? Your Goliath may not carry a sword or hurl a verbal challenge of insult that all may hear and force you to decision. He may not be ten feet tall, but he likely will appear equally as formidable, and his silent challenge may shame and embarrass.
One man’s Goliath may be the stranglehold of a cigarette or perhaps an unquenchable thirst for alcohol. To another, her Goliath may be an unruly tongue or a selfish streak which causes her to spurn the poor and the downtrodden. Envy, greed, fear, laziness, doubt, vice, pride, lust, selfishness, discouragement—all spell Goliath.
The giant you face will not diminish in size nor in power or strength by your vain hoping, wishing, or waiting for him to do so. Rather, he increases in power as his hold upon you tightens.
*
But the battle must be fought. Victory cannot come by default. So it is in the battles of life. Life will never spread itself in an unobstructed view before us. We must anticipate the approaching forks and turnings in the road. We cannot hope to reach our desired journey’s end if we think aimlessly about whether to go east or west. We must make our decisions purposefully. Our most significant opportunities will be found in times of greatest difficulty.
*
I like to think of David as the righteous lad who had the courage and the faith to face insurmountable odds when all others hesitated, and to redeem the name of Israel by facing the giant in his life.
Like David of old, “our cause is just.” We have been placed upon earth not to fail or fall victim to temptation’s snare, but rather to succeed. Our giant, our Goliath, must be conquered.
*
Gotta love the words of the prophet. I find he tends to be a good one to listen to and ponder the words of often.
The Prophet talks about the details leading up to David taking out Goliath with his one stone and slingshot. My own summary can't do it justice. Then it leads into these parts below I like:
Well might we look carefully into our own lives and judge our courage, our faith. Is there a Goliath in your life? Is there one in mine? Does he stand squarely between you and your desired happiness? Your Goliath may not carry a sword or hurl a verbal challenge of insult that all may hear and force you to decision. He may not be ten feet tall, but he likely will appear equally as formidable, and his silent challenge may shame and embarrass.
One man’s Goliath may be the stranglehold of a cigarette or perhaps an unquenchable thirst for alcohol. To another, her Goliath may be an unruly tongue or a selfish streak which causes her to spurn the poor and the downtrodden. Envy, greed, fear, laziness, doubt, vice, pride, lust, selfishness, discouragement—all spell Goliath.
The giant you face will not diminish in size nor in power or strength by your vain hoping, wishing, or waiting for him to do so. Rather, he increases in power as his hold upon you tightens.
*
But the battle must be fought. Victory cannot come by default. So it is in the battles of life. Life will never spread itself in an unobstructed view before us. We must anticipate the approaching forks and turnings in the road. We cannot hope to reach our desired journey’s end if we think aimlessly about whether to go east or west. We must make our decisions purposefully. Our most significant opportunities will be found in times of greatest difficulty.
*
I like to think of David as the righteous lad who had the courage and the faith to face insurmountable odds when all others hesitated, and to redeem the name of Israel by facing the giant in his life.
Like David of old, “our cause is just.” We have been placed upon earth not to fail or fall victim to temptation’s snare, but rather to succeed. Our giant, our Goliath, must be conquered.
*
Gotta love the words of the prophet. I find he tends to be a good one to listen to and ponder the words of often.
11.08.2009
rock the casbah
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One of the interesting things I have recently noticed about myself (while learning how to be a mother of a special needs boy) is that despite a medical explanation and diagnosis for him, I still find in a public setting that my shortcomings must be obvious to others and viewed as the reason for my son's (at times) challenging behaviors.
Recently an old friend from college shared with me a compliment about what he remembered about me from the time we were friends. The timing of this compliment could not have come on a better week. I told him briefly of my family. About my amazing husband, adorable children and our current journey understanding Zane being on the autism spectrum. He told me about his experiences working with special needs children as an intern. Then he assured me that he imagined I am doing well by my children as, he said, he remembered that I always seemed put my everything into the things I do.
I came away from that message with a bashful blush, but a certain knowledge that he was right. I really do give my family everything I have. Even as I am aware I am not perfect and I have a high standard for myself, I can look back and know that with the experience and knowledge I have had with every step of parenting each of my children, despite my shortcomings, I have definitely, always given it my all. This realization brought me great comfort and tremendous courage to continue doing what I am really good at doing- working hard. And to let go of the worries of where I fall short in more spots than I care to admit.
****
Recently a nice woman in Relief Society quoted this part of a great talk from 1976:
We can distinguish more clearly between divine discontent and the devil’s dissonance, between dissatisfaction with self and disdain for self. We need the first and must shun the second, remembering that when conscience calls to us from the next ridge, it is not solely to scold but also to beckon.
The Savior wants us to remember that we give it our all. The adversary wants us to focus on our shortcomings, it pleases him when we beat ourselves up too harshly. The Savior welcomes healthy self inventory checks that inspire positive change within. I'd say there is a big difference between the two that is important to remember when engaging in self-reflection.
Her quote led me to find the talk from 1976, I think it provides great wisdom. Especially this portion:
Some of us who would not chastise a neighbor for his frailties have a field day with our own. Some of us stand before no more harsh a judge than ourselves, a judge who stubbornly refuses to admit much happy evidence and who cares nothing for due process. Fortunately, the Lord loves us more than we love ourselves. A constructive critic truly cares for that which he criticizes, including himself, whereas self-pity is the most condescending form of pity; it soon cannibalizes all other concerns.
Recently an old friend from college shared with me a compliment about what he remembered about me from the time we were friends. The timing of this compliment could not have come on a better week. I told him briefly of my family. About my amazing husband, adorable children and our current journey understanding Zane being on the autism spectrum. He told me about his experiences working with special needs children as an intern. Then he assured me that he imagined I am doing well by my children as, he said, he remembered that I always seemed put my everything into the things I do.
I came away from that message with a bashful blush, but a certain knowledge that he was right. I really do give my family everything I have. Even as I am aware I am not perfect and I have a high standard for myself, I can look back and know that with the experience and knowledge I have had with every step of parenting each of my children, despite my shortcomings, I have definitely, always given it my all. This realization brought me great comfort and tremendous courage to continue doing what I am really good at doing- working hard. And to let go of the worries of where I fall short in more spots than I care to admit.
****
Recently a nice woman in Relief Society quoted this part of a great talk from 1976:
We can distinguish more clearly between divine discontent and the devil’s dissonance, between dissatisfaction with self and disdain for self. We need the first and must shun the second, remembering that when conscience calls to us from the next ridge, it is not solely to scold but also to beckon.
The Savior wants us to remember that we give it our all. The adversary wants us to focus on our shortcomings, it pleases him when we beat ourselves up too harshly. The Savior welcomes healthy self inventory checks that inspire positive change within. I'd say there is a big difference between the two that is important to remember when engaging in self-reflection.
Her quote led me to find the talk from 1976, I think it provides great wisdom. Especially this portion:
Some of us who would not chastise a neighbor for his frailties have a field day with our own. Some of us stand before no more harsh a judge than ourselves, a judge who stubbornly refuses to admit much happy evidence and who cares nothing for due process. Fortunately, the Lord loves us more than we love ourselves. A constructive critic truly cares for that which he criticizes, including himself, whereas self-pity is the most condescending form of pity; it soon cannibalizes all other concerns.
11.04.2009
strength thru obedience
I had a pretty crappy last half of the day today. And I started to write about it. But it didn't come out funny. And certainly not uplifting. So I will place this here instead. A quote from Thomas S. Monson. And now I feel better. While letting go of the crappy part of my day.
******
A Modern Example
One who had learned well the lesson of obedience, who had found the fountain of truth, was a kind and sincere man of humble means and circumstances. He had joined the Church in Europe and, by diligently saving and sacrificing, had immigrated to North America—to a new land, a strange language, different customs, but the same Church under the leadership of the same Lord, whom he trusted and obeyed. He became the branch president of a little flock of struggling Saints in a somewhat unfriendly city. He followed the program of the Church, although members were few and tasks were many. He set an example for his branch membership that was truly Christlike, and they responded with a love rarely seen.
He earned a living with his hands as a tradesman. His means were limited, but he always paid a full tithing and donated more. He started a missionary fund in his little branch, and for months at a time, he was the only contributor. When there were missionaries in his city, he fed them, and they never left his house without some tangible donation to their work and welfare. Church members from far away who passed through his city and visited his branch always received his hospitality and the warmth of his spirit and went on their way knowing they had met an unusual man, one of the Lord’s obedient servants.
Those who presided over him received his profound respect and his extra-special care. To him they were emissaries of the Lord; he ministered to their physical comforts and was especially solicitous in his prayers—which were frequent—for their welfare. One Sabbath day some leaders visiting his branch participated with him in no fewer than a dozen prayers in various meetings and in visits to members. The leaders left him at the day’s end with a feeling of exhilaration and spiritual uplift which kept them joyous throughout a four-hour drive in wintry weather and which now, after many years, warms the spirit and quickens the heart as that day is remembered.
Men of learning, men of experience sought out this humble, unlettered man of God and counted themselves fortunate if they could spend an hour with him. His appearance was ordinary; his English was halting and somewhat difficult to understand; his home was unpretentious. He didn’t own a car or a television. He wrote no books and preached no polished sermons and did none of the things to which the world usually pays attention. Yet the faithful beat a path to his door. Why? Because they wished to drink at his fountain of truth. They appreciated not so much what he said as what he did, not the substance of the sermons he preached but the strength of the life he led.
To know that a poor man consistently and cheerfully gave at least twice a tenth to the Lord gave one a clearer insight into the true meaning of tithing. To see him minister to the hungered and take in the stranger made one know that he did it as he would do to the Master. To pray with him and partake of his confidence of divine intercession was to experience a new medium of communication.
Well could it be said that he kept the first and great commandment and the second which is like unto it,11 that his bowels were full of charity toward all men, that virtue garnished his thoughts unceasingly and, consequently, his confidence waxed strong in the presence of God.12
This man had the glow of goodness and the radiance of righteousness. His strength came from obedience.
The strength which we earnestly seek today to meet the challenges of a complex and changing world can be ours when, with fortitude and resolute courage, we stand and declare with Joshua, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”13
****
And just pretend there isn't a picture of a man in a tampon costume picture in the post below this one. Might be a spiritual buzz kill.
******
A Modern Example
One who had learned well the lesson of obedience, who had found the fountain of truth, was a kind and sincere man of humble means and circumstances. He had joined the Church in Europe and, by diligently saving and sacrificing, had immigrated to North America—to a new land, a strange language, different customs, but the same Church under the leadership of the same Lord, whom he trusted and obeyed. He became the branch president of a little flock of struggling Saints in a somewhat unfriendly city. He followed the program of the Church, although members were few and tasks were many. He set an example for his branch membership that was truly Christlike, and they responded with a love rarely seen.
He earned a living with his hands as a tradesman. His means were limited, but he always paid a full tithing and donated more. He started a missionary fund in his little branch, and for months at a time, he was the only contributor. When there were missionaries in his city, he fed them, and they never left his house without some tangible donation to their work and welfare. Church members from far away who passed through his city and visited his branch always received his hospitality and the warmth of his spirit and went on their way knowing they had met an unusual man, one of the Lord’s obedient servants.
Those who presided over him received his profound respect and his extra-special care. To him they were emissaries of the Lord; he ministered to their physical comforts and was especially solicitous in his prayers—which were frequent—for their welfare. One Sabbath day some leaders visiting his branch participated with him in no fewer than a dozen prayers in various meetings and in visits to members. The leaders left him at the day’s end with a feeling of exhilaration and spiritual uplift which kept them joyous throughout a four-hour drive in wintry weather and which now, after many years, warms the spirit and quickens the heart as that day is remembered.
Men of learning, men of experience sought out this humble, unlettered man of God and counted themselves fortunate if they could spend an hour with him. His appearance was ordinary; his English was halting and somewhat difficult to understand; his home was unpretentious. He didn’t own a car or a television. He wrote no books and preached no polished sermons and did none of the things to which the world usually pays attention. Yet the faithful beat a path to his door. Why? Because they wished to drink at his fountain of truth. They appreciated not so much what he said as what he did, not the substance of the sermons he preached but the strength of the life he led.
To know that a poor man consistently and cheerfully gave at least twice a tenth to the Lord gave one a clearer insight into the true meaning of tithing. To see him minister to the hungered and take in the stranger made one know that he did it as he would do to the Master. To pray with him and partake of his confidence of divine intercession was to experience a new medium of communication.
Well could it be said that he kept the first and great commandment and the second which is like unto it,11 that his bowels were full of charity toward all men, that virtue garnished his thoughts unceasingly and, consequently, his confidence waxed strong in the presence of God.12
This man had the glow of goodness and the radiance of righteousness. His strength came from obedience.
The strength which we earnestly seek today to meet the challenges of a complex and changing world can be ours when, with fortitude and resolute courage, we stand and declare with Joshua, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”13
****
And just pretend there isn't a picture of a man in a tampon costume picture in the post below this one. Might be a spiritual buzz kill.
10.30.2009
it just sounds like a good idea
Lucky for Mike, there will be kids at this party. Lucky for Mike, I am not a good planner. Sort of his last minute gal.
OR.
We would be going to the party with me as a Tampon. And I would make him be the period. Which would simply be a shirt with a black dot on it. There's no way he would wear it if it was a red dot. But I know he would still go with me dressed as a tampon. Cos that's just the kind of girl he married. And he would keep it all on the inside and let me do my thing. My tampon dressed mom at a party thing. If I planned well ahead.
You know, I don't know why I don't dress up for Halloween. It's the best excuse to find a ridiculous costume no one else would dare wear and totally rock it. I would rock a tampon. Don't even deny it. Although, it might be a little tricky to discretely nurse a baby in the corner of the room with this get up on. I imagine myself trying to be all smooth about wiggling it up far enough while still trying to keep it on somehow and situating my baby and her food source while holding a conversation with someone. I guess I could always cut out nursing openings in the costume that close up with velcro. Yea, that wouldn't be akward.
OKAY SO MAYBE BEING A TAMPON ISN'T GOING TO WORK OUT THIS YEAR and perhaps I should let it go.
10.28.2009
It's a hard-knock life
Yesterday my 2 year old was being, well, completely 2. Being exactly as he should. Melting at my feet and sobbing while I cooked dinner. We have a rule in my house that if you are whining at a time that isn't terribly convenient for me to fix the issue at hand, you go whine in your room. Normally this rule leads to perfect children that come back out 5 minutes later and realize wow it's so much better to use words! and then four leaf clovers grow out of the grass in the back and a rainbow appears leaving a pot of gold and dancing leprechauns. Parenthood is so funny that way.
So Evan forgets the rule about whining when I am busy being his slave, I mean cooking him food so he has to be placed into his crib while he thinks about this rule we have. I shut the door while the siren cry explodes into levels of volume normally heard by an ambulence racing to save a dying person. Not normally from a short person that can't wait 5 more minutes for food.
I resume my task and feel pleasure in gaining control of the situation and enforcing rules. Remembering it's a teaching moment dulls the sting of screaming kids sometimes. But mostly it's the closed door to muffle the sound that works best.
The baby begins to stir, she's getting sick of the swing. Drat. Zane is bouncing off the walls. And couches. Is there ever an age they hit where it's no longer a witching hour?
I hear a door open. Then shut. Then open. Evan strolls into the kitchen. He climbed out of his crib. I have officially been schooled. Only, he's totally cool about it. Like it didn't just happen. Like after 24+ months of his life he didn't just pick up a new trick that has removed the only sure way for me to contain him regardless of his temperment. He just walked past me and went about playing with toys like it was an everyday thing. It was funny to me how nonchalant he was about the whole thing. We sit down for dinner.
I ask: "Evan did you jump out of your crib?"
He shrugs his shoulders as if to say "Yeah, whatever. It's no big deal. Can you pass the salad?"
Until this morning. He did it again. Usually he screams for me to get him in the morning. Not today. He just rolled into my bedroom and walked around like he wasn't a freaking superstar crib jumper. Didn't even make eye contact or give any indication that he just broke out of his crib on his own. Acted as if he wasn't a bad A mofo. I am willing to bet he does a handstand on the crib rail on his way out of it. Then does a smooth tuck and roll as he lands on the ground. Stands up with arms in the air, a perfect 10. Maybe even struts to the door, giving off much bravado. Rolls up a pack of cigs in his sleeve and gives a wink to his stuffed animals. Chews up some glass on his way down the hallway. He might as well skip riding a bike and get a hog. This kid is just a little bit too tough for me. It's the coolness about his tough exterior that makes him completely rock solid. Little Evan. Our crib jumping biker gang kid. He is so tough.
Oh. Except when he has a temper tantrum. And prances on his tip toes with his hands bend at the wrist in front of his chest like a kitten begging on its hind legs for more milk in its dish. That's sort of not so tough. 
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