This is my REALITY!

Meeting of Hope

2012-02-16T09:51:00.004+01:00

Tonight we go do some more problem solving with Kaeden's school. Yet another appointment to TRY to help our son. He isn't doing well, and the weight of his unhappiness is falling heavy on my shoulders. My heart aches for my son. I can no longer call him my little boy, at a whopping 17 years old and 6 feet, but he remains my child, my heart.

Kaeden has been reacting (overreacting) very aggressively the past couple of months. He has broken many things, but even bigger, he has also become physically aggressive towards people. When he physically assaulted me, I called the police for assistance. Who wants to make that kind of decision when it comes to her child? But it wasn't a decision I had to make. When my head got bashed into the wall, I knew it was time for intervention. That type of battery I can not accept from anyone, including my son. No, I am unwilling to accept being physically abused, or the abuse of other people. It is inhumane, and respect needs to be learned, whatever the cost.

The cost is high. My son no longer lives under my roof. He is *temporarily* living at his home away from home with a visit home on the weekend. And though his weekend visit home has been very positive and we've all had fun together without problems, the fact is that his behavior problems have moved to new ground: specifically, his group home. School is also a point of disaster. And everyone seems to be losing hope, losing the drive to further help him, becoming lost in a world of what do we do now?

The positive of all of this is that his group home now sees, instead of just hearing about, Kaeden's disruptive behavior, his outbursts and disrespect. His autism. The downside is that they aren't sure how to help him. My loving, sweet, happy kid with meldowns and outbursts has turned into a very unhappy, constantly disruptive, friendless young man. He hates his group home as the rules have become too overwhelming, and he often gets his rewards taken away, while he twiddles his thumbs in his lcoked up bedroom. The other guys living with him are tired of him and his ways, and most have turned their backs on the friendly kid who used to be their friend.

And my son calls me, something I consider a blessing, to bear his soul, cry, scream and curse. I promise him I will do all I can to help him. I thank him for confiding in me. I ask what I can do??? And he never knows how to help me to help him. He, too, is lost. And as I calmly speak to my son, reminding him how far respect goes, hwo we all care about him and want to help him, his tears echo in not only my ear, but my heart. I want to clasp him to me, envelop him in my love...but even that I cannot do and even as my soul aches, my mind is happy that he uses me as his out, calls me to help him through his time of need. And somewhere inside, I regretfully feel comfort in the fact that it didn't happen at home...that I wasn't subjected to his disrespect, his outburst, the fear. That for once, I can be his comfort, his sounding block, the place he turns when the world gets too much.

So, tonight we go meet with the group of 10 people all surrounding my son, doing what we can to try to help him, hoping that one day something will click and he will again become the happy, friendly kid that hates authority of any kind. That kid is easier to work with.

I hope we can come up with a plan. I'd like my kid to call me and say: Hi Mama, I'm having a GREAT day! That we could both (all) find comfort and feel the freshness of the wind on our face...not only that cold, bitter chill.

Stomach Pain

2012-02-01T10:49:00.004+01:00

I have complained about having knots in my stomach before. Though I have never really dealt with any stomach problems, issues I have had with Kaeden have caused some bouts with an upset tummy. But this time, this time it's different.

Waiting for these biopsy results have given me a glimpse of what stomach pain means. I don't feel like I have to throw up, I don't feel like it's something I ate, but there is a pain inside that just never leaves. It's true stomach pain.

I am STILL waiting for my biopsy results. Every day, I wait til 10 am to call my doctor (her phone hours) and then again I watch the clock tick away until 6 (her other phone consults). And every day she tells me the same thing: I'm sorry, there is nothing yet.

Last night as I called her, I was shaking like a leaf. I could barely keep the phone to my ear, fearful of hearing either yes or no. In all honesty, I am scared of having cancer, but nearly as scared if it isn't. What is the problem if it isn't cancer? What will I have to do? Will I be scared every day of my life that somewhere lurking inside me is cancer? Will every pain I have in life make me think it is cancer? And if it is cancer, god forbid....

Last night, when my doc told me the results weren't in, I commented: Oh no. My husband was with me in the kitchen and I watched as his face turned to ash and he slowly moved to my side and rubbed my shoulder. "Bad news?" he asked, as I realized he had only heard "Oh no." I immediately eased his worry by telling him the results weren't in, but his ashen face remained in my mind as I completed the call. This has affected all of us. My husband is under as much stress as me. His worry comforts me, but makes me feel guilty as well. Just how much stress can a person take?

Every day, I have friends and family calling for news. I have a support system and that is so good. Last night, the phone rang 5 times, one call after another...as much as I appreciate the support and their worry over my health, it is also extremely nerve-wreaking when the phone does ring. Sends a bit of a shiver through my spine. It's hard to explain. It's very weird to have to report on findings that don't yet even exist.

My doctor is contacting the hospital today. She will be calling me this afternoon. What does that mean? 1pm? 4pm? 5:30? My nerves are buzzing. I can't stop shaking. It's strange, this shaking sensation that just doesn't stop. I wonder, should I take my son to his basketball tournament, and possibly miss THE call? Or should I sit and wait, as I have been doing for more than a week already? I am so angry at the hospital as they told me the results would be in on Monday. How dare they say Monday when it's Wednesday already, and I still have no answer. I will be writing a letter, informing them that their misguided information has caused my family and I extreme stress that is unneccessary. Had they said: Your reaults will be in the end of next week. I wouldn't be so uptight and tawt. But expecting something this serious on Monday and still waiting....it's unacceptable.

So, I continue to wait. Every tick on the clock feels like an hour. And the pain in my stomach, well, it sits there taunting me.

A Day Lasts Too Long

2012-01-30T11:01:00.003+01:00

It's been awhile since I've written. I come, trying to find words, but can't. My mind is lost in a fog. So much has been happening around here, so much that makes 2012 to date a really shit year. I try to focus on the positive, but sometimes it is so hard.

Kaeden had his 17th birthday on January 12th. However, it was a very crappy celebration. My son was given no party, no cake, no gifts. The only thing that made his day memorable was mama coming to his home away from home to give him the news he was no longer welcome at home, until he could recognize that abusing people is not okay. I wrote my son an intimate letter, giving him my heart and my love, along with my support for him during his turmoil. I don't know if he is capable of understanding the meaning, but it was necessary for me to let him know that no matter what he does, I am always here for him.

He physically hurt me a few days before, and after emergency meetings with poilce, his school and home, we decided he needs time to recognize his actions are not okay, which resulted in him living away from home for awhile. He will only be coming home on Sundays for a few hours. It pains me, but my hope is that he grasp just some little piece of the message. If he chooses to hurt people, his life will change and not for the better. Sundays are my happy day, when we are all together, doing family stuff, and laughing and playing together without any fights or pain.

My mother-in-law had a heart bypass. It was a scary time and she is still in the hospital, but came out of surgery fine. When we visited her before her operation, she was in a panic and scared of dying. It was difficult for me as I have always seen her as such a strong woman. It gave me a sampling of how important she is in my life, how we should never take those important for granted. I hope her recovery is quick and easy for her. She deserves a little break from pain and health issues.

I found a lump on my left breast. After going to the doctor and subsequently having an ultrasound and mammogram done, there was question as to whether I have breast cancer. I waited for my MRI feeling positive and faithful that all would be just fine. However, after having my MRI read, I was sent for an emergency biopsy. When I asked how things looked, the lady told me she coulkdn't tell me anything until after the biopsy results come back. I suggested that she does hundreds of these tests a day and would like a little clue. Her answer, with a gentle hand on my shoulder, was: It doesn't look good.

I am supposed to receive the results of my biopsy today. It has been a horrendous week. Walking around wondering if you have cancer is the most stressful thing to go through. Every little "symptom" I have points to cancer. PLaying with my children brings on tears as I wonder if cancer will take me from them. Making love to my husband brings about a wave of emotion and fear I didn't know was hidden inside. HIs kisses to assure me only make the tears fall harder.

I called my doctor for the results. They aren't in yet, and she won't be there to get them this afternoon. I have another day of waiting, of fear and of wondering. I have another day of feeling my breast, checking my lymph nodes, pain in my stomach. Touching this body that somehow doesn't feel like my own, like it is a shell housing an amotional wreck inside, looking through the mirror at hollow eyes with black circles under them, wondering if the black circles are caused by worry or by a cancerous beast living inside me.

I need to know. I pray the results are negative. One day I am upbeat and feel so sure, and the next I whimper like a baby certain I am going to die. I don't need to hear breast cancer statistics, that it isn't a death sentence. I don't need to hear that I will be supported. I don't need to hear that so many lumps turn out to be nothing. I don't need to hear that I can't do anything about it anyway...I just need to hear the word Negative....that's when it will be okay.

One more day...just taking it one day at a time. But oh, how long a day lasts...

Fat

2011-12-13T11:26:00.004+01:00

I am fat. That's a given and how I got here is a combination of genetics and mistakes, but it is what it is. I often go through phases in which I try to take better care of myself through diet and exercise, and it works for me, if only temporarily. Often I get stuck at a certain place and lose the motivation to continue and turn to food as a comfort when I shouldn't. At the moment, without putting in much effort, I have been doing well and fitting into smaller clothing sizes. It feels good, but as always, I save the larger sized clothing for the day when I fit into them once again. I'm not sure that is a good choice, but for me, it seems to be the circle of life, and that's how I roll.

Being fat sucks. Being tired and feeling sick and having no energy is not a wonderful way to live your life. Luckily, I stay active, even with my excess weight. My children and husband demand an active lifestyle, and so we continue to enjoy walks in the woods, days at amusement parks and zoos, bike riding out in nature...all things I love and treasure, and am blessed to be able to do with my family. I haven't yet held them back from doing what they enjoy in life, even if I have held myself back many times due to my weight and size. I know they would all prefer me to be healthier and also more eye appealing, but never have my own family made me to feel like I am a burden (I am not, I do everything for them, for the record, but they could whine and complain much more than they do).

I despise being fat, and hate when people mention that I look as if I have lost weight...I do not like that attention on myself. I don't like people noticing as it makes me feel even more self-conscious. Sometimes I think that alone plays a part in my losing motivation. Stupid, maybe, but being heavy is not only physically exhausting, but also emotionally and mentally. It plays with your mind and your body. It's not a fun manner of living.

Lately, I have been confronted with numerous friends and acquaintances who have chosen to do something about their weight once and for all. However, they are doing it surgically, rather than through diet and exercise. And I am sort of stuck in this fight with myself about how I feel about doing something so drastic. Is it okay, is it necessary, is it an easy way out, is it the "magic pill" everyone dreams of finding? Here is what I have concluded given my own weight battles and my own experiences:

I believe that being overweight is somewhat of a choice. Yes, there are many other roles playing a part, but ultimately, it is me who places the food in my mouth, and if I make poor choices, I will gain. If I choose not to get out and exercise, I will have no muscles to break down the fat. This is also a choice, and one I am not very good about completing, other than for necessity. So, it lays on my shoulders, the choices I have made in getting me to this place.

Once you reach a certain weight, it is no longer an easy task to turn it around. Your habits persuade you, and even in your very best of intentions, it is easy to fail. Often, with being overweight, you are confronted with additional health issues, such as diabetes, joint pain, back pain, stomach issues, an inability to have children, heart problems. These are all medical issues, but stem from choices you have made. It is a result of being overweight. I, personally, have been lucky not to suffer any serious medical issues due to my weight, but do tend to have pain in my knees and ankles, surely from the weight they are forced to carry. This does scare me for the future, when even healthy people are confronted with walking difficulties and other medical issues, completely unrelated to weight issues, but present nonetheless due, simply, to aging. I am not boding well for the future, due to the care I have given my body thus far in life.

Medical issues can be turned around, and prevented with weight loss. I get this. I also get that having gastric bypass surgery or putting in a stomach band reduces your weight. But what really bother me about these processes, is that too many people I know are doing it not because of health issues, but simply as a chance to be free of extra fat. And I struggle with believing that this is acceptable.

I hear my friends giddy with happiness over the prospect of upcoming surgeries, or seeing others melting away into a normal-sized person. And I am jealous that it isn't me being allowed to walk into any store to buy clothes, or sitting on a plane without worrying I am taking up the seat of the person next to me, or not going on a rollercoaster for fear I won't fit in the seat. But still, I have done this to myself. Is it right for me to then have surgery to take away the pain of the years of abuse I have done to my body?

I know these surgeries are not easy. I know you must go through a period of hell before you reach your desired weight. I know it isn't an easy solution. However, when I speak to some people about it and they haven't taken any opportunity to try to do this for themselves before resorting to something so major, it does make me a little mad. Why have they been able to abuse their bodies for so long, and not have to fight to get desired results? I am not speaking of all people who do choose to have this surgery. People who have struggled with their weight, sincerely tried doing something about it, and failed for whatever number of reasons, I can back them up. But for others, I just struggle to uncover how this drastic measure will result in the new person they think they will become by losing weight.

I understand the desire to be free of excess weight and all the pain that comes with it. I understand the need to seek happiness you can't find hiding behind layers of fat. But, I don't know to what extent I agree and support gastric bypass surgery. I know I would be a candidate for it, and I also know that with our medical system here it would be affordable. Hearing my friends and acquaintances discuss their choice to have this surgery almost makes me want to head to the doctor and start the process. But something within me knows I am here because I did it to myself. And I am not sure I can allow myself the freedom of losing this weight, knowing I didn't do all I could for myself, mentally, emotionally, and physically, before resorting to something so major. I think I owe it to myself to have to fight for what I want. And if I fight and then can't manage it, then maybe I have the right to search out a deeper level of help.

I don't begrudge these people their choices or decisions. I do envy what they receive at the end. I just hope that they find what they have been seeking all along when they reach goal weight, without dealing with the problems that brought them to that point in the first place. Or, better yet, that they do deal with those issues and find complete happiness and pride in the person they become after going through gastric bypass. For myself, I've got a lot more thinking to do on this issue.

Geocaching

2011-11-28T17:19:00.006+01:00

So, we've started geocaching. Don't know what that is?

www.geocaching.com

Well, you should, as it is an extremely gratifying new hobby we have discovered individually and as a family. It's like a mini- treasure hunt with success almost guaranteed at the end. And often a little goodie to go along with it.

More than a year ago I discovered geocaching and thought it would be a f

un family act

ivity. However, at that time, Erwin wasn't all that interested, but still went on a hunt with me and the boys. Finding that first cache was a thrill, but we didn't log it as we didn't really look into all the possibilities of geocaching. We searched for a couple more, until this year when Erwin st

arted really looking into it. He was in awe of the global aspect of geocaching, as well as all the varying choices for searching. Suddenly, he was all "Let's go find a cache!" and came home with printouts for numerous caches on our trip during fall break. We even bought a handheld GPS to make for easier hiking.

We started seriously geocaching on November 1, and have already completed 27 searches. We have found three differing travel bugs (little bugs that are tracked via the website during their worldwide travels), the furthest starting out in Arizona. And all of us love the thrill of th

e hunt!

This weekend, we created our own cache. Erwin did most of the work picking out coordinates and creating questions. We made sure it was correct and then got it online today. It was exciting when we first saw it online, so you can imagine my thrill when I spotted the first geoca

cher logging into our book. I got all giggly like a schoolgirl and immediately sent Erwin a message. He left behind a new travel bug which will hopefully make its way into a geocachers hands and taken for future travels through Europe or the rest of the world.

In any case, if you like being outdoors and doing a little walking around, these caches are hidden all over the world and you become a part of a global community when you start logging

your finds. We are really enjoying it, and I can see it becoming a regular family routine to see who finds it first, what little surprise we can pull out, and keep track of all the travel bugs we've come in contact with. It's great fun. Check it out if you think it may be something for you. I simply could not imagine it wouldn't be!

Happy Geocaching from tank95!

Cliques

2011-11-09T11:02:00.003+01:00

I am not a clique person. Never have been. Even as a kid, I found myself wondering and questioning why "everyone" seemed to have to be a part of a group. And I never was. I didn't fit in, and as a teenager, it made for some difficult times for me. Everyone was going here or there, doing things with just those people in their circle of friends, failing to notice others around them. I didn't have a group, but was on friendly terms with many. I didn't care from which 'group' a person came, if I liked them for who they were, I liked them. Simple.

I was involved in sports during junior high and high school. I was also on the school newspaper and in art club. I diddled in Spanish club, DECA, and Junior Civitans. I hung out with some of the 'druggies' and spent many lunches with the 'techers'. I would guess that I would be one of those people that if I returned to a high school reunion, they would say, "Oh, I remember you. You were with me in ......". But none of them would have a flow-blown story to tell of our fun times together. I just was. I spent a lot of time with a lot of different people only because I was involved in such a diverse number of things. No one group seemed better to me than another. But because of that, I didn't get invited to a lot of parties, or head off for a concert with the kids, or have that best friend thing going on that lasts a lifetime. I did my stuff, and left it when I headed home at night.

I am still that way. I don't like big crowds. Too many people in one place stresses me out and I get cranky. I don't like to feel as if I must do this or that because others are. And what I find, is that even 25 years later, cliques are still the same. Whether kids or adults, there is always the "cool" group, the "sport" group, the "creative" group. And me, I still diddle about in all of them, still find myself a bit disconnected, still find myself wondering where and how I fit in.

When I go to soccer games, the parents always break off into groups after for a drink while we wait for the kids. The men stand at the bar, the women sit at a table next to their closest friend, and I take a seat where there is one open and listen in on all the conversations going on around me. When I am at women's club activities, I show up and sit down, the cliques of women gathering around me, and partake in conversation with whomever happens to sit next to me. When I attend parties, I join the group with whom I have come (most often the soccer moms), and make my way around saying hello to others I know not associated with the soccer mom group. And going to the bathroom? I am not one of those women who can't head to the toilet alone. In fact, I much prefer to go alone.

This quality of mine, I find it very interesting. It still often leaves me with a feeling of being an outsider, the one who just can't quite fit in. Sometimes it bothers me, most times it doesn't (not like when I was a kid and felt so dissociated from life). I have my family and my circle of my closest friends, interestingly enough also a group who seem to have no real clique. I am who I am. I enjoy a variety of activities and interests, and not one overpowers another. I think I have discovered that I am quite well-rounded this way.

People are interesting. The variety of people is intriguing. I'm just glad that although I may be the weird one, I can be who I am without trying to fit in to be someone I am not. I am kind and generous, and if you are also kind and generous, you will fall into my circle of 'friends'. This is a group that I am more than happy to be a part of.

Wedded Bliss

2011-10-19T08:36:00.004+02:00

This past weekend, Kaeden attended a wedding. Not only attended, but took part in the wedding ceremony. He passed out the ceremony books and led people to their seats. Then, during the mass, he read pieces of a story. This wedding, it gave me a little piece of something I can't explain. It showed me that my son has a place in the world, and where that place is. It made me see him as an independent young man, fulfilled.

Kaeden came home and told me his teacher was getting married, and that he could attend the ceremony. He was very excited, animated, happy to be part of something so big for someone so important in his life. I hadn't heard anything about this wedding, so wasn't quick to sahre his excitement. I thought maybe his imagine was taking over, as happens often with Kaed. I didn't want him to get his hopes up too high, so answered with a simple: That is nice.

Then, I received a note from his teacher, outlining Kaeden's duties during the ceremony, what time he needed to be at the church. He told me he was preparing Kaeden and his classmates for their part in his wedding. I was initially a bit frustrated by the news, getting it just 2 days before the date. Really, it's something I should have known earlier; what if we had other plans?

However, as my frustration subsided, I felt a sense of acceptance. Acceptance of and for my son. People in his life, whom are important to him, but for whom he is also important to them. A bonding with teachers, everyday people in the world. It gave me great satisfaction, knowing that this tight-knit little group of which Kaeden has been a part for two years now, really is the tight-knit group I have imagined. A class of five young men all with severe behavior problems, learning disabilities, autism, ADHD, and aggression. A class specially designed to keep these kids in school, to help them find their place in the world. Two young male teachers who hold the group together, acting not only as teachers, mentors, guides, but also as friends. They are not

Mr. Teacher, but Timmeke (an endearing form of his name) and Bossie (a nickname). And this group of seven has become my son's world for the time being. A place where he learns, plays, and fights, but then learns how to control his aggression and anger, how to deal with the emotions leftover from a fight.

When I saw Kaeden, his friends, and his teachers at the wedding (my curiosity got the best of me, I couldn't stay away), I recognized that Kaeden is exactly where he needs to be. Yes, he

needs guidance. He is getting it, from this little group. Maybe the teachers are too young to fully understand, they have no kids of their own, have only been teaching a short while. They are smaller than my son and Kaeden pats them on the head. BUT, they are giving him friendship with a twist- they are in control, they are guiding him. And my son fits in perfectly.

Kaeden got up to stand before the mass of people during the ceremony. He and his classmates read a story, each taking different pieces, all of them having a turn. And I heard that their reading wasn't strong, they stuttered and they had diffculty pronouncing words. They shied

away from the mike making it hard to understand. They sounded out words which were too big to get out in one breath. But you know what? They all did it! And they did it in a place where they were not only accepted doing it, but praised for the good job they did. I cried. Because seriously, how many times will my son be given a job so important and be given the chance to shine and do so with a group of people who accept him completely, for who he is, and even celebrate the young man he is.

I thank these young teachers, and specifically Bossie and his bride, for making their wedding a chance to do so much more than bind them in marriage. They also made awareness of kids with differences, and gave them a chance to prove just how great they can be, to shine before a large group of people, to say: Hey, look at me, I am A PART OF THIS SOMETHING BIG!

This little group, it may be small in size, but it's big in something more important: acceptance. And we could all use them as an example to learn from.

Life Is Fragile

2011-09-30T21:46:00.002+02:00

The older I get, the more I come to see how fragile life is. In the blink of an eye, anything can happen and life changes, for you, your family, your friends. And it's so completely unsure.

When Kaeden returned from America, he was excited to see his friends again. Particularly his girlfriend. Upon his return, he learned that his girlfriend had been in a serious car accident and was in critical care in the hospital. She was comatose and beyond that, nobody could tell us anything. Eventually, Kaeden was able to reach his girlfriend's mom via her cell phone, and she relayed the information that his girlfriend was still in a coma and had been moved to another hospital. This, of course, had a big impact on Kaeden, though he never wanted to discuss the situation. I offered to help him find out additional information and take him for a visit if that was something he wated to do. He refused my offer, and every week I ask how she is doing, if he has heard news.

This week he came home to tell me his girlfriend came out of her coma on Monday. He spoke with her yesterday and her memory is very sketchy. When I asked him more, he said he didn't want to talk about it and I saw his shoulders tense and his face grimace. I went to touch him to offer my support, and he pulled away. I knew the sign...just leave me alone.

I quietly and calmly told him if he wanted to talk, I would be here to listen. Tonight when he came home from Judo, I asked how it was as he ate dinner. Then I eased into how things went at school this week, and simply asked what he knew about Kathleen. I told him I would like to know so I don't have to worry any more. So, though he was tense, he told me his story, of her needing to undergo operations, of her not remembering anything, of her wounds. He didn't give a lot of details, but when I told him I am so happy she woke up and is still alive, he touched me on my arm. "Me too, mama. I wish that didn't happen, but I am so glad she is going to be okay." I was so pleased he opened up to me, let me in to share his pain and grief. Allowed me to offer comfort and support.

I will continue to pray for her, and for my son who has to live with the emotions of this event in his life. Life is fragile. For all of us.

Working Together

2011-09-16T21:38:00.007+02:00

I am really proud of my boy tonight. The big one. He came home from school and has been magnificent to be around the entire evening. It's days like today that give me this feeling of comfort. It feels really good.

Erwin and I attended a meeting with his home away from home this morning. We worked together to make up rules and a plan of attack so that we can all work more efficiently together. I think we have reached a really good compromise. The rules at home are the same as at the other home. His punishments are the same as well. It feels good to have finally found a team who care enough to help us make this work. Because it is a lot of work. We all need to give the same information, follow through with the same plan. And even though there will always be slight differences between home and a live-in care center, today I felt this kind of power in knowing what our expectations are, having them hear our input, and getting it all down on paper so we all feel comfortable.

This is the first time I have really felt this way, ever. Even working with this particular group of people, we always had our differences. Today we finally all committed to each other, to make it work for our son, for our family.

When Erwin and I sat down with Kaeden tonight to explain the new rules (morning and bedtime rituals, mostly) he answered by blowing out a big breath of air. "I like this," he answered. "It will be so much easier to have the same rules at home and at school!" And if he's feeling the pressures subside just from hearing our fellowship, I am interested to see what happens when we actually put it into motion. I hope it will work, for all of us. Most importantly, for Kaeden himself, to help him become more independent and trustworthy.

I expect issues to arise, meltdowns to take place. But we're all on the same page, sharing one goal...the goal to bring peace and happiness to our son, and our family. To give Kaeden the security he needs to feel confidence, and the confidence to become independent. What more could I ask?

Tomorrow begins our new system. I am leary, but hopeful. Mostly, I hope that when we falter, when Kaeden doesn't succeed, that we can remain positive, help him to accomplish the goals and be a success. That we can give him the room needed to make it all work. Starting new systems is never easy, but this time we're starting with accomplices...and they want it to work as badly as Erwin and I...and our son!

Good Job Kaeden for hearing us, listening, and agreeing to do your best. I am so proud of the start you have already made. Let's keep it going kiddo! We're going to win this thing, make our family a positive, happy, harmonious family. One we are all proud to say : This is my family!

Humiliation

2011-09-12T15:22:00.002+02:00

This was a hard weekend for me. Sometimes they are. It was one of those times when I noticed other people noticing my son. Noticing that he's different. Noticing that even though he looks very "normal" he doesn't quite act "normal". Most of the time I try not to let it bother me, don't notice the second glances or downright stares. But when I am feeling uptight and stressed myself, I tend to notice those little glances or laughs hidden behind a hand covering the lips, or someone shaking their head more. I tend to be ultra-aware of my surroundings and take evrything in, maybe to make up for what Kaeden is unable to take in. And it is very hard for me, as his mom, to recognize people seeing him as being different. It may be a good thing, for others to be faced with differences and come to recognize disabilities, but for me, it's sometimes humiliating. There, I said it. I don't like myself for feeling that way about my own son, but geez, sometimes I just want to fit in and not be the stand out in the crowd. This weekend, it was impossible.

We went to a big nature playground and we were having a lot of fun together as a family. Erwin and Kaeden even managed to play together, joke around, and laugh together without any problems. That alone had me feeling like I was on top of the world. I should know better than to get too enthusiastic, as when I do, my spirit always gets shattered. If I keep my hopes somewhat subdued, it never seems quite as damaging.

After playing in the playground we went to the mini golf and started our rounds. It was a really cool course with different paths than you see everywhere. We were having so much fun when suddenly we caught up to the masses. It was so busy we couldn't even golf, with groups of 7 or 10 or even more ahead of us. I think it stressed my husband out, all the crowds. I know it stressed me out, and I'm sure it was hard for Kaeden. Crowds always are harder for him. We decided to move forward to a path that wasn't taken by groups. Kaeden was worried about this, worried we wouldn't get back and get the correct score. Worried we wouldn't know which path we'd already completed, that the score wouldn't even out in the end. He was correct, because that little happening caused him too much stress and on the following course, he exploded. He laughed when Erwin missed a shot, Erwin got mad at his insincerity, and then it was boom!

Kaeden lost it, completely and wholly. He was cursing and screaming and spitting and pacing and throwing the ball and his club. And all those hordes of people? Yeah, they witnessed it all. The people climbing on the survival course in the trees above us? Yeah, they witnessed it too. People stopped playing as our family became a one act show for all to be entertained. And I stood on, trying to reach my son, reach through his anger, his fear, his disregard for people, and find a way to calm him. But at that moment it wasn't possible. And then, as I looked around me, I realized that Kaeden could seriously hurt one of these people. He was that out of it that he wasn't aware of his surroundings in the least. Eventually, I persuaded him to come with me as he continued to rant and swing the club around ferociously. As we made our way out of the mini golf park, leaving Erwin and Jari behind, he continued to spit, scream, curse and kick. And I was the center of attention, as was my son.

At that point, all I wanted was to get Kaeden to calm down. I needed him to come back to reality, to breathe. So I stopped, spoke calmly and let him rant until I finally saw his eyes begin to clear, his face lose some of the tension. And then, when he said he needed to go walk to calm down, I let him go. That is his best manner of gaining control, to just leave him alone. So I sat and watched people still pointing and makiing gestures my way. And silently cursed them, myself, my husband, my son. Tried to stay calm.

A little while later, Kaeden was by the outdoor swimming pool. Jari and Erwin came back after their golf rounds and Jari went in search of his brother while Erwin and I discussed what had happened. He came running back to inform me that Kaeden was swimming. Swimming? In 60 degree grey autumn weather? Swimming with no swimming trunks? Swimming?

I looked over the fence to see my 16 year old son jump in the outdoor swimming pool in his underwear, his clothes left in a pile by the side of the pool. And I had no clue what to do. I called his name, then demanded that Jari come back by us to get Kaeden's audience away. But he still had an audience. People sitting picknicking were laughing, pointing, shaking their heads, glancing back and forth between Kaeden and I. Tears pricked behind my eyes as I watched thescene before me unfold. I wached Kaeden go down the baby slide into the pool and stand there just grinning.

So what, I tried to tell myself. But it was not normal behavior. So what, I tried to believe. But it was not okay for someone his age to take part in such an activity. Eventually, Kaeden climbed out of the pool, gathered his clothes, stripped down to nakedness, and got dressed, carrying his wet underwear as he returned. I couldn't get away fast enough. I hoped the car would swallow me whole. I was utterly humiliated.

The thing that bothers me most is this humiliation. I should have been more worried about my son than what others were saying and thinking. I should have been so involved in him that I didn't notice the stares and pointing. But I wasn't. I was doing what I had to do to keep them and him safe, to help him find calm, and nobody has any idea. I am certain they know there was something not quite right, but I could have used it as a learning opportunity in place of wallowing in my own embarrassment. Maybe next time. Probably not.

Marriage

2011-09-10T22:43:00.004+02:00

Marriage. Remember those butterflies you'd get in your tummy just thinking his name way back when? How you couldn't wait for that next phone call or another letter in the mail. How you'd wait up for hours just to manage a quick chat on ICQ? And then comes marriage...

And you turn into an old married couple magically overnight. Maybe that's an exaggeration, maybe it takes a bit longer, but somewhere along the way life takes a turn and marriage becomes a comfort and contentment and all those butterflies hide away for a rainy day.

When you take your vows, in sickness and health, for better or worse, you really don't know what you're getting yourself into. You are in love and this enchanting prince has just become yours, and when you say those magic words "I do" you completely and wholeheartedly believe in them.

But life changes. You lose a piece of yourself when you marry and gain a piece of a pair, but the pair isn't quite whole because really, it's just butterflies and rosy cheeks....at least until the farts and burps and scratching of the balls while you sleep alone in bed yet again becomes the norm. It's only then, after those first few years, that you realize what marriage truly means, and what you have traded in when saying "I do".

Marriage, it takes a lot of work. UNfortunately, people don't often put in the work it takes and the marriage suffers, maybe very noticeably, maybe just in quiet hints. It could be something as minor as him not noticing you colored your hair to something major like him cheating on you. But in one way or another, marriage is often taken for granted, our partner often just a permanent fixture we expect to be around. We have changed since becoming wed, he has changed, life has changed. We aren't the people we chose to marry. We have evolved, both together and apart. In some ways it's a good thing, in some ways it's bad, but in every way it just is. It is life, and it's sharing our life with another human being. Sharing not only a short story, but a complete novel filled with delicate details.

Sometimes those details get a little fuzzy. Sometimes the characters don't all add up. We get lost in the plot, confused about whether it's worth continuing to the end. Sometimes it is, and sometimes it isn't. Sometimes it's worth giving a little bit more to come to a conclusion.

This person we have married is the one we chose to be our partner in life. He is the one we believed in and treasured. The one we couldn't stand to be without, for even a few lonely hours. As our marriage ages, we tend to forget those qualities, forget the jittery butterflies that made us alive, forget how enchanted we were, what made him so special, what we wouldn't do to keep that feeling alive. Life becomes comfortable, easy, content. And the butterflies are replaced with the warmth of the wood-burning stove. Only not quite so hot.

MArriage is a rough road. There are lots of twists and turns and sometimes we tend to get lost at the croosroads. We aren't there to help each other find the correct turn as we each go on about our business and do our own thing, only coming together at the end of the day to say hey before falling asleep apart and not so much as a whisper of how are you today? We don't take the time or energy to to make our partner feel special, to let them know they are loved. It's just a quiet assumption you think they understand.

But what if they don't understand? What if they need to feel those butterflies, to marvel over the wonder of being together? To feel like a giddy school girl in love? What happens then? Because marriage can't just be forgotten. You have changed, you have given, you have taken, and you are no longer just you. You have become a pair, a very confortable pair of the grungiest, softest socks you dare not throw away. And only on the gentle wash cycle can they manage to hold together.

Marriage. It is a job. It takes work. And it takes butterflies to make fairy tales come true.

Kaeden is Home

2011-09-04T13:23:00.002+02:00

Kaeden is home after a long summer vacation in America with aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents and great grandparents. He had a wonderful time and the stories he tells light up his eyes. He was happy there, and got to do lots of fun stuff with people who love him. I missed him. Some days towards the end, it was all I could do to keep my feet planted firmly on European soil. I was also very busy this summer, so that helped to keep the distance not quite so far. Being busy means not sitting twisting your hands in worry. So, it was good that my summer was filled with adventure upon adventure of my own.

Kaeden was scheduled to come home so he'd have a week to adjust before heading back to school. That didn't happen with Hurricane Irene. His trip was delayed 5 days, and even when he did head home, he had yet another unexpected cancellation in Germany. We finally got him home though, and I was grateful we forked out the big money for the unaccompanied minor service.It was needed this time around, and I was pleasantly surprised when I got a call telling me of the unexpected situation and that they would keep my son with them until he was back in the comfort of mama's arms.

He missed the first few days of school. He's having trouble remembering rules we have at home. He doesn't like to get out of bed in the morning. He can't find anything he needs and goes on to blame everyone else for missplacing it. He's forgotten he needs to ask before taking food or drinks, and that eating upstairs is not okay. And, he's irritable beyond belief.

I expected much of this. Jet lag is a real thing and it's not easy getting the groove back. Being gone and able to do as he wanted for two months I was expecting to have to remind him that he must ask for snacks, that he can't have coke. I also knew he would be emotionally drained having spent time with people he loves the most in the world and having to say goodbye and begin over at home (with others who love him, but aren't gramma and grampa).

But what I wasn't expecting was the great amount of stress I am feeling. The tightness in my shoulders aches and I am extremely tired. I find myself once again trying to prevent problems, watching everyone like a hawk to intervene before somethign happens. Doing my best to keep people apart, and busy doing differing activities so as to keep a sense of peace. And yet, all this does is create an immense stress and disharmony within myself. Unfortunately, I can't let it go. If I do, the disharmony in our home becomes too much and nobody is happy. So, I struggle and I become the biggest person and do what has to be done. I am the heart of the home, but I am not sure it's big enough to go all the way around.

Kaeden is harder than I remembered. He requires a lot of time and energy. He is worth it, without a doubt, but it is a lot of work. I have to follow him around like he is a two-year-old. He makes messes wherever he goes and needs assistance with everything. Having this break from these circumstances really did bring a peace to my battered spirit. I needed the break, my husband, my son, and Kaeden himself needed the break. But getting back into the swing of things after the break is hard, like really hard.

I am so glad my son is home. I am happy we all had time to be happy and carefree. And I now hope that we can all find harmony living together as one.

Cancer

2011-09-03T21:36:00.003+02:00

I'm not quite sure how to feel today. It's a mixed bag of emotions and one side of me is cheering while the other shivers in sadness. Today, one of my dearest friends was given the results of a test proving her liver is cancer-free! Yeah! I am so happy about this. Been praying like crazy that this would be the result. And my prayers have been answered.

But the other side of me is filled with jittery nerves. Though her liver is cancer-free, she is not cancer free. A couple weeks back she was told she has eye cancer. It's not a common form of cancer, but she has it. And because she has eye cancer, on September 28th she will be undergoing surgery and losing her eye and her sight.

I have tried to remain positive as I hear news of her symptoms and doctors visits. I try to think: Please, just let it be only her eye. And it is. But it is her eye. And her sight. And how can I be positive when someone I love is going through such a horrible, life-changing event? I mean, thank God it's "only" her eye, but damn, it's her eye!

My friend seems to be taking this process very well. Really, what else can you do? Life is what it is and it sends a lot of blows our way. This time, it's a whopper. And I just wish I knew what I could say or do to try and make it all okay. But nothing I say or do can make it all okay. It just isn't something that is okay. Someone I love has cancer, and it's already taking a piece of her she loves. It sucks.

I hope that throughout the course of this experience, that at the very least she will come to learn how very much she is cared about and loved. I hope hse knows that I am here for her and will do anything I can to help. That my shoulder is open for a good cry, my mind filled with useless jokes to make her smile. That I am so very sorry this is happening to her and her family.

I can continue to pray. I can buy her her favorite tea. I can show up for lunch with the girls. And I can be here, there, anywhere if and when I am needed.

Cancer, you may be taking her eye, but you will never take her sight, for she sees people as they are and looks at them beyond what an eye can see and accepts them and loves them for who they are. her sight goes beyond her eyes. And that, that you will never take from her.

Introducing....

2011-09-02T12:28:00.004+02:00

We were on summer vacation in Austria and Czech Republic. One day, we went to visit the zoo. There were bears and goats and a leopard and monkeys...and a cage full of bunnies and guinea pigs. And on the cage was a sign: For Sale: Guinea Pigs €7, Rabbits €10

And Jari fell head over heels in love. With Gizmo. Whom I now introduce as our newest family member,he has given friendship to our lonely Rudy since his brother, Crocky died. So, our little gremlin (well, Jari's, but I can call him mine too, right?!) Gizmo. Isn't he a doll?

Happy Bday Jari

2011-08-31T08:06:00.004+02:00

Dear Jari,

Hey my 10 year old! How did that happen, you already in the double digits? Sometimes it seems as if you have always been with me, sometimes as if it were just yesterday that I was screaming to get you out on the hospital bed. And when finally you popped out into the world and they laid you on my chest, it was then that I knew my world was complete, my family whole. It was then that I looked at you and kissed your face and made you a promise that I would be the best mommy I possibly can. I have kept that promise my dear boy. I may not always get it right, and life may be just a little more crazy for us than for many others, but I do always do my best.

And I think we're doing okay. You awakened with sleepy hair and half-closed eyes and as you trippel-trapped down the steps I greeted you with a big hug and Happy Birthday 10 year old, and you fell into my arms and wrapped your hands around my neck. And it is in those moments that we share something strong and special and it makes all those parenting mistakes slip away into the background and the love come out and shine, and what is more important than that. A security and togetherness and knowing we have a place in the world. I think that is something very strong for both of us. Giving and taking and supplementing each other to complete each other. It is truly beautiful.

You were so very happy on your 10th birthday! All day there was a light in your eyes that just sparkled and you giggled and you laughed and you acted goofy and you smiled. I was utterly taken aback at the relaxed mode you were in, just complete joy that it was your special day and by golly, you were there to enjoy every second! You have something about you that holds you back sometimes, a shyness, fear, disharmony, and I worry about that in you as it often prevents you from doing things you want to do, from getting the most out of life. But yesterday, that barrier was gone, and I saw a little boy who just enjoyed life and wasn't going to let anything stop him. I was so happy, right along with you.

All your friends came for your party and as each arrived you just shined more and more. I watched you playing before we left for the park and that smile, I wish I could hold it in place for an eternity. We went to Goolderheide to play on the playground and do mini golf and eat lunch and everyone loved the day. You all played flag tag in the woods and all 10 of you (10...10...sounds about right!) just really got on well and enjoyed the company, and were just nice kids I was proud to say were part of our repertoire of friends. Riding bikes as you all wore your new vests mama painted with your names and they all really loved...I am so glad I have you to keep those little things important in my life. Things I love to do but don't do often enough, like painting...you help bring out that creativity in me and that is what brings me joy. Being creative, just as you are when you just do it!

You called Kaeden and Gramma and Grampa and when you were speaking to your brother on the phone, you smiled the whole time telling him about your party and when you told him "I miss you, and I can't wait to see you Thursday" it made my heart melt. Kaeden is hard to live with sometimes, but knowing you truly miss him and accept him as our family and love him as your brother no matter what, well, kiddo, that makes you strong amd generous and those qualities, because of living life with Kaeden, will help you to succeed in life. It may be hard, but I am glad you are able to put the bad behind and just accept that life is what it is and this is my brother, and he is mine no matter what.

Oma, opa and Ilse came to watch your soccer training and party with us for dinner. You liked your soccer cake I made to surprise you and even explained the perspective of the ball in relation to the net which was much too small...what a smart kid I have! Throughout every moment of the time they were here, you shined my boy. You glowed all day and I just hope that being 10 always brings you so much wonderful in life. You play little tricks on people, just little things that noone else would think to say or do...quick-witted and really good at being funny...not outwardly annoyingly funny, but just enough to make it hilarious. You used your please and thank you's (which you don't like to do!) and I just saw the kid you are and hiding behind that, the man you will become. Someone a little like your dad and a little like your mom and a little like yourself to make this really terrific combination of a person. In your actions, personality and eyes, I really saw that we are doing okay!

I am so glad you enjoyed your birthday lil bug. Nothing makes me happier than seeing you happy. Nothing makes me more proud than knowing part of that happiness comes from me...my actions, my discipline, my love. You are my heart! Happy Birthday to my very favorite ten year old. Get out there and dance like noone is watching! xoxo Mama

Kaed's coming HOME!

2011-08-30T01:24:00.002+02:00

My son is coming home! I haven't seen my boy since June 24th when I dropped him at the airport for summer adventures in America. It was long enough when I thought I'd see him Sunday, but when Hurricane Irene arrived, she replaced my son's arrival with cancellations and now it's past when I expected to see him but he's going to be home Thursday! That only took me 10 hours on the phone and my mom even more, but guess what? My son? He's coming home!!!

This summer has flown by, and lucky for me I was very busy doing this, that, and the other. I didn't have a lot of time to actually miss Kaeden, as in really miss him, just thinking about him and what he's doing and how he is and what's he doing now and I wonder where he is and is he awake yet? I thought of him plenty, and also had enough opportunity to communicate with him so it wasn't too bad and I know he had a blast, because every time I talked to him (except the time we were discussing his cancelled flight due to the hurricane) I could hear the smile in his eyes, and what more could a mom even wish for than that smile shining in his eyes and his heart.

There wer eno major blow-ups during the entire summer, and the problems that did arise seem to have been easily handled without too much difficulty. So, it all went well and I am so glad he had this opportunity. I am sure he has grown (well, he told me today he looks pregnant he's gained so much weight...) and been encased in love which is more difficult to come by here in his home in Europe. He is loved, but being with his grandparents he bonded with from day one gives him more security than anything else. And he really has a fondness for America.

In any case, my son will be home soon! I can't wait to see him and just have him in my midst again. It has been a wonderful break, but I'm ready to have him in my presence and life again.

Rest In Peace

2011-08-02T10:43:00.003+02:00

In loving memory of my little Crocky who stays with us in spirit. May you find health, lots of fresh veggies, and the very crunchiest of hay in the place you have gone. I will miss your wheeting and wiggling nose my little friend. Rest In Peace.

The Life of 40

2011-07-25T08:14:00.004+02:00

Wow, it has been a long time since I have written. Every day I think, "I need to blog about this." But it just never happens. However, life has been happening. And the past number of weeks have been magnificent and good in every single way. I turned forty. I am now officially Óver The Hill' but if being over the hill means having what I have had as of late, I am happy I am here.

First, Jari and I went on our trip to London. It was, without a doubt, one of the most amazing vacations I could have imagined. I got to see my parents and my gramma, and I witnessed the reuniting of two elderly sisters whose love can be touched and made every one of my senses alive. I realized that even being far away in Europe, I have extended family fairly close by and they are all people I can turn to in times of need. They were very welcoming and hospitable and I sincerely enjoyed getting to know them more. And then, Jari and I explored London on our own for two days which was pure enjoyment from dawn til dusk with my little man. Never have I enjoyed him as much as on those two days we shared together, It was a trip I will always hold very close to my heart. When on top of the London eye, my little boy gave me a riddle to solve: "Mama" he said with two thumbs pointed in the air. "Who is somehwere here that has two thumbs and is having the vacation of a lifetime?" he asked. And as I looked at him again, he tilted his thumbs to point at himself and yelled out "ME!" And the delight in his eyes at everything surrounding him and the feeling of his hand in mine as we toured the city will be etched in my mind forever.

Party Number One: With my English family, my son, my parents and my grandmother in our little Roydon vacation house. Streamers complete with 40 decorating our little bungalow, cups of strong, hot tea, and a cake made out of muffins. A birthday Sunday traditional dinner at Morehen "Horse" restaurant complete with Knickerbocker Glory, and then a gift given to me which was like a treasured piece of heaven. A book, made of handcrafted wood boards made by my brother, a gold plaque stating 40 Years of Tera's Memories, and pages filled with photos, messgaes of love, old cards and pictures, baby announcements, awards I accomplished, and the wristband from the hospital when I was born. It was a gift that brought tears to my eyes and made the trip totally complete.

Friday evening, after our trip, Jari and I were playing Lord of the Rings on Playstation when the doorbell rang. I sent Jari downstairs to see who it was and he climbed back up telling me I needed to go down. When I opened the door, 30 people were standing there yelling Surprise and singing Happy Birthday to me, in English. The soccer club had placed the coveted door before my house, with a poem about my life and photos of me welcoming me into the 40 Club. In Belgium, it is tradition to have an old door placed in front of your home every 10 years starting at 30. This was a gift to me. It made me feel as if my life here in Belgium is complete, as if I have been welcomed here and accepted and am now óne of the club'. The poem they wrote showed me that my activities and life in Belgium are numerous when all stacked together in a poem, and that I have found my niche living in this faraway home. What my soccer friends did for me, they will never know, but it really gave me a place where I felt competely home.

Party Number Two: Soccer friends and kids running amuck playing hide and seek, adults conversing with beer and coke and bowls of chips in our humble backyard.

Saturday, breakfast with my guys complete with a vase filled with 40 red roses from my husband and gifts hidden in the yard by my son (a poem written completely by him, he also has a gift for words, and a little paper-created city) before heading off to Helmond Sport stadium for Open Day. My son goes through the soccer circuit, scoring high points. He looks good out there on the field, and my husband and I watch and cheer him on. We buy jerseys for an amazing price of €1 each worn by the players in the previous season. It's a fun afternoon, only just beginning, because my in-laws hosted a birthday dinner for me at their place. Jari and Erwin and Oma made me a fruit cake when we arrived, and we ate it up upon completion, yum! I got some gifts, the highlight being a piece of paper. Written on it was a gift certificate for a trip to Paris! Which is already reserved and arranged for a 3 day adventure this coming weekend. Wow! My sister-in-law came with reading glasses and a guide book for Paris, as well as some spending money. Have I ever said how much my in-laws mean to me, how grateful I am to them for giving me family and love and support? For making me feel special? I think I have said it many times in the past, but it remains strong to this day. They knew I wanted to visit Paris, and they are making that dream happen, for me.

Party Number Three: At oma and opa's house with Ilse and Michel, Tante Ricky and Ome Karel, Omam, Opap, and us. I arrived to find balloons and streamers decoratin the walkway to their home, along with signs stating all the reasons 40 is so great (botox, reading glasses, etc) complete with pictures of Moi! A delicious gourmet dinner, bottles of wine, and good conversation. And they did it all at my request for me. And it touched my heart.

Sunday, slept in late and woke up to get things ready. Party Number Four just around the corner, a BBQ for friends hosted by us. The weather wasn't helpful and we had to shuffle stuff around, and my husband helped to create a wonderful little BBQ world in rain-filled skies. The food was good and way too plentiful (as always), and my home was filled with friends and laughter and stories of life. I received another gift, another gift that cannot be replaced and will always touch me deeply. A photo book of my life, pictures of me growing up and now, with friends and family, me smiling and being goofy (and even a little naughty). And on those pages were also letters written to me by all these people I have crossed paths with in my life, people I have come to know and many of whom have become a second family to me. These pages filled my heart with joy. In my 40 years here on earth, I have found a good mix, a good balance, and a good basis for a wonderful life. I have been truly blessed, and from the words on those pages I have also blessed others with my presence. It is a special gift to know you have touched others lives, and this book was testament that I have. I had to put my book down to collect myself as tears filled my eyes. I am loved, oh so loved, and by so many people. What a wonderful gift.

Party Number....nope, no more parties. 40 has come and will remain til 41, and with it I have realized what a gift my life is. I am blessed, truly. Life is a party. You have to bring out the party hats and streamers and make each day alive, find that sunshine and make it glow. I think 40 has given me another new start, a place to start fresh knowing my life is complete (even tho I miss my other son who is loving every minute of his vacation in America!). Happy Birthday to me, and Thank you to all of you in it with me. Much love!

England

2011-06-22T08:43:00.002+02:00

Yesterday I spent a portion of my day making plans. PLans that are pretty exciting, to me and my family. See, a few months back, I was also making plans. PLans for Jari and I to make a trip to England for my aunt Lucy's 90th surprise birthday party! I bought train tickets for the two of us to go, happy I was able to be there to represent my family. To visit with these people I don't see often enough, to be there to celebrate the life of an amazing woman I have come to treasure over the years of my own life. So, Jari and I were going to make the trek across the sea and spend five days enjoying London.

Then, yesterday, new plans were made. My dad, impulsive though he is, decided he was bringing my gramma to her sister's birthday party to surprise her! She decided to make the trip, so I made the reservations for my dad, mom, and gramma to meet us in London! And, the thought of being encircled in the bosom of my family has me feeling pretty good!

Even more, I am so so so happy that my gramma and her sister will be reunited once again. The surprise on my Aunt Lucy's face is one already etched in my mind before the event takes place. These two women, my gramma and her sister, have shared a very special bond in life. As babies, they were given up by their parents and lived in a children's home in London. When Lucy was old enough, she left and married, and took my gramma home to live with her. When the war broke out, my gramma was once again on her own, serving in the women's force of the army. This is where she met my grampa, and when the war was over she moved to America to begin a life with him, having seven children of her own, never giving them up.

Lucy and gramma have visited each other throughout the years, both in England and America. They have kept a close bond throughout the years, and on Lucy's last visit to America, they said their goodbyes, knowing it was the last time they would see each other in life. But, it wasn't the last time, because come her 90th birthday, my gramma will be there to share it with her sister...one last visit to share their laughter and smiles. It brings me a feeling of euphoria, this passion filling my heart, of two sisters having lived a terrible childhood, yet bringing them a connection that even great distance would survive.

And my dad and mom, bless them, know the importance of such family values, and are making it happen, this chance for them to be together one last time. It makes my heart sing and I am so glad I will have the opportunity to be present and witness the love that will be able to be felt and nearly touched. I am so grateful my parents have passed their values of family onto me, to allow me this joy in seeing two sisters united.

Plus, my kiddo, Jari, is so excited he gets to see gramma and grampa and great-gramma again! And me too!! When my children have the opportunity to be with their grandparents, it's like a light of love surrounds me and I feel complete happiness. So, it's a good thing, this planning, because it gives me something to look forward to, and something to bring joy upon impact!

College

2011-06-03T08:41:00.002+02:00

I am a college graduate. I have a bachelor's degree in elementary education with a minor in art. It's something that I worked very hard to achieve, and I am proud of the fact that I made it. During my school years I had a child and was a single parent. My child was very ill, for much of the time I was in school. We spent many weeks in the hospital where my son lay under tents trying to stay alive. It was not an easy task, for either of us. Early in the morning I would drop him off at daycare, attend my classes, go to my teaching experiences, then pick him up around dinnertime to spend a few hours playing before bath and bedtime. While he slept, I studied, or later, made my class schedules and prepared my lessons. We were busy, but we did okay. My grades were excellent, considering, and I sincerely enjoyed my classes once I got into my area of study.

I also had some night classes. These I did not enjoy. It was tough enough to find a daycare open during the day, let alone babysitters or a daycare during the evening. But I searched them out and found sitters who took my son in during these evening classes. None of these turned out to be good experiences. Though I loved our regular daycare and felt very secure and safe with my son there, the babysitters gave me a sense of discomfort. At the time, I had no choice. If I were to do it again, I would have searched further.

One evening daycare was a place that was also a daycare during the day. It was in a family home, but the family was less than stellar. Though the lady who cared for my son seemed kind, her own adult children living with her were less than appropriate. They drank, smoked, and were in jail for one thing or another. The lady also cared for her grandchild, a little girl who had criminal parents and was placed in grandma's care. Whenever I picked Kaeden up from her care. he seemed happy enough, but I always felt a tiny niggling doubt in the back of my mind. Something just wasn't quite up to par. I never did figure out what it was as I went with my gut instinct and found a new childcare provider.

This was in the form of a highschool girl living in our appartment complex. In the beginning, I really loved her. She came to play with Kaeden even on her 'off' hours, and we became friends, going shopping together, going to movies. Her own mom was a single working mother, so she found a place with me when she had noone else to turn to. It was a good thing, and I knew I could trust my son with her. I paid her well, and she enjoyed having her own spending money.

The problems started when she started dating a guy. He changed her. He would often come along to babysit, and Kaeden took a real liking to the guy. He was a bit older than our sitter, and had his own car. They asked if they could take Kaeden out for dinner, to go to the park. At first, I said no, but as I got to know them more, I allowed them short outings. However, one night I came home late from my class, when Kaeden should have been long in bed. The house was dark, and they were nowhere to be found. I went all over the apartment complex asking if they knew where my son was. There was no note, no phone call, and his car seat was still in the house. Brandi and her boyfriend showed up finally, just about the time I was planning to call the police. I let them have it as I held my son half-asleep in my arms. They were no longer allowed to take Kaeden out, and Brandi's boyfriend was no longer allowed to come over while she was working. Our relationship also changed, and she no longer liked me as much due to my becoming so hard. We quit doing things together, and our relationship turned into a working one.

One evening, I came home a bit early as I had an exam and finished early. When I got home, I saw my son watching tv on the couch and just a foot away from him were Brandi and her boyfriend doing more than just making out on the couch. I threw them outside, along with their clothes, and never saw her again. Not even around the apartment complex. I took her last pay to her mother, and discussed the situation with her. They moved shortly thereafter.

It was tough. But we made it through, my son and I.

A few days back my mom and I were discussing my cousin, who graduated from high school this year. She will be attending college and we were discussing what college means. I was 17 when I started attending college. I was not ready. My grades were horrible and I did a lot of partying. I lived in a dorm and then house with other college students. It was fun and adventurous, but studying did not fit in my calendar of events. I eventually dropped out and went on to New York to be a nanny and play and enjoy and explore. When I returned to school, I was 21 and went parttime. When I was 23 I had Kaeden, and when I was 24 I got serious. My little boy gave me the opportunity to find myself and know I had to make a life for him. I chopped down and my grades were perfect. I enjoyed my classe and loved teaching. I had finally found the place I belonged.

My mom never went to college. My dad did, while I was in high school. My mom regrets not going, and talking to her a few days back was the first time I ever knew this. She has had what I consider a successful life. She raised a family and created a successful business. She wishes she had attended school.

I am proud of my degree and all I went through to receive it. However, I have not been able to put it to use living her ein Europe. It frustrates me. But I know that what I accomplished was something big, and I feel pride within myself for doing so. And pride that I now am a stay-at-home mom so my children don't have to keep up with the demands of a lfying schedule. They come and go and mama is always there to give them security. One day, i will use my degree in the field. Today, I am using it to be smart enough to give my boys what they need, before life overcomes them and they have to start making adult decisions of their own.

How To Act

2011-05-26T14:27:00.002+02:00

I'm home. And I still feel jittery, almost as if I have done something wrong. But I haven't. What I have done is good and right, something that shouldn't need consideration or thought. Yet, it took courage, it took thought, and consideration. It took energy. What do I say? Should I smile and laugh? How will she react? Will she want my company?

Today I took a leftover meal from our women's club party to the neighbor lady whose husband committed suicide a few weeks ago. We made up a plate of food with the thought that she would be happy to have it, and the comfort of knowing we cared. As she is my personal member, I was asked to bring her the food. When I was asked, it took me a moment to say Okay. It took me a moment to catch my breath and find the strength to take on such a task. But I said okay, and I completed my task, and I am glad I did.

She didn't take the plate of food (my kids are coming tonight and i already cooked) but she invited me in and told me she had only a short time to visit before she needed to leave. I wasn't sure I was welcome or she was being polite, but I am still glad I took the opportunity to do the right thing. What this accomplished was her knowing that I care, that though the funeral is over and the act forgotten by most, that she is still important and still thought of and we are open when and if she needs someone to turn to.

I drank a glass of water, talked about the weather and the garden and her kids and her parents, but we sidestepped the conversation of her husband and his death. I didn't know what was appropriate, what is appropriate in such a situation. But the simple act of my presence and my offer to be available if she needs me was well received. She thanked me for stopping by, told me she would appreciate me coming again as she said goodbye at the door.

It could have been an act, one of courage on her part as well, but that doesn't matter. I opened myself up and she let me in.

Coming to terms with how to act is not necessary in such a situation. Just being there is action enough. And today, I took action and showed someone that I care.

Dots of Goings On

2011-05-17T08:33:00.004+02:00

It's raining and cold today. Nothing like the rain to make the grass grow and the flowers bloom once the sun shines again. I'm trying to keep it positive. Really, I don't like rainy, cold days. It gets me from the inside out, deep in my bones. And I can't complain, our weather has been extremely good for the past 6 weeks. I just wish it would stay that way. In this part of the world we have far too many rainy, gray days. I come alive in the sun. Just like the grass and flowers. I just don't need the rain to give me the kick to shine.

Soccer has been overtaking our lives lately. Between Kaeden and Jari we've spent a good portion of free time standing on the side lines cheering for our boys. Sunday Jari took part in TWO tournaments. That meant an ENTIRE day from sun-up to sun-down at the games. I love watching my boys play, but I think we were a bit too enthusiastic last weekend. By game 6 Jari was starting to drag. Game 7 and the kid couldn't put one foot in front of the other. He fell asleep in the car on the way home. Even a power shake didn't give him the extra energy he needed to continue. Last night we all attended Kaeden's game. He is a much different player than Jari but he's been doing a good job. He's been chosen for a number of games lately which shows that he's excelling which makes me so happy. Team sports are hard for kids with autism. When Kaeden first played, it didn't go well. But this year, he's shown he can do it, and he loves doing it. So, now we have two kids in soccer and it's time consuming. Time well spent and I love it, but it keeps us busy.

The electric in our home finally took a plunge. Our home is old and though much of the house has been rewired, there is a section that hasn't been. So, at this moment we have shut off the power and it needs to be rewired. That means a possible removal of floors, walls, ceilings...doesn't sound like something I am ready to do. It sounds like a big pain in the butt.

My hand has been annoying me. I have some infection which doesn't want to go away as the medication to make it go away doesn't carry to the infection due to the poor blood circulation in my hand and arm. So, the infection is spreadign instead of being cured. And I am supposed to be back in a sling not using it in the least. I haven't put it back in a sling, but I am being careful...as careful as I can with the act of life. The bad part about it is that when you have pain, it just sits there and bugs you all day long. You can't shake the overwhelming feeling and just enjoy life. There's always that little issue to remind you of your shortcomings, of the accident, of the handicap. And it's annoying.

Kaeden is leaving fro America in 5 weeks. It is overwhelming me. I am getting nervous and excited for him all in the same breath. I am letting him fly alone on a direct flight without unaccompanied minor assistance. He is so proud of this fact. I am a little fearful. All the what-if's keep running through my mind. He'll do great. He is a seasoned traveller, knows the ins and outs. But what-if? I keep thinking maybe I should go ahead and pay for the service. But he is so proud that I feel he is able to make this trek alone. I don't want to take that sense of independence away from him. He can do it, right? It's just one flight, just one gate to find and do so in a timely manner. It's just keeping his passport safe for 10 hours. It's just taking his meds alone once. It's just going through security once, and passport control once. Oooh, what if?

There is so much going on around here lately. This time of year is full of all the end of year school stuff, end of year sports stuff, as well as all these parties...we are part of the turning 40 crowd, and everyone wants to celebrate this milestone. That means lots of weekends filled with parties. Parties are fun, in general. But sometimes you have too much of a good thing. And I still have difficulty with the language in noisy, crowd-filled spaces. An hour is great, 2 hours is doable, 3 hours and I have a headache.
A man in our village died last week. Didn't just die, but hung himself. He lived just a few houses down from us and I can't shake this feeling of betrayal. I feel for his wife, for his children. What must she/ they be going through? How would it feel to come home from grocery shopping, put your bike away and see your husband hanging there in a noose dead before your eyes? I helped during the services, serving to the families during the after burial reception (do you call it that?) as is customary for neighbors to do here in our village. This woman is someone I have regualr contact with and seeing her made me ache. I just can't imagine. And then, while we were cleaning the hall after the lunch, people were discussing what she was wearing...tan pants and a purple sweater...and how that is disrespectful to not be dressed in black. And I wnated to scream at them: YOU THINK IT IS DISRESPECTFUL TO WEAR TAN PANTS AND A PURPLE SWEATER? WHAT ABOUT HANGING YOURSELF WHERE YOU KNW YOUR WIFE WILL COME HOME AND FIND YOU DEAD? THAT, MY FRIENDS, IS DISRESPECTFUL! Sometimes, I don't know what goes through people's heads? Why should we care what someone is wearing? Shouldn't we be there to support others, to be friendly and nice? Why is gossip so important?

And that is what has been going on around here. Keeping me busy and questioning life and the ways of the world. I'm sure there will soon be more to come.... in the meantime, here's a few pics of a few boys out there on the field.

Health Issues

2011-05-06T17:25:00.002+02:00

I have been thinking non-stop about my parents, my in-laws, my grandparents lately. It's been kind of driving me a little crazy. I am so worried about the health of all these people I love. When we're little kids, our parents seem so old to us, our grandparents ancient. As we grow into teens, the age gap seems to lessen and we see them more realistically...a generation gap away. As adults, we recognize that they are getting older, but they no longer seem quite so distant in years. But then, suddenly, they hit 60, and 60 sounds old-ish. 65 is the age of retirement. 70, wow, 70.

And as our parents age, health complications begin to arise. Whether in the form of a hip replacement, a stroke, alzheimers, broken bones, allergies, high blood pressure, or diabetes, these ailments become noticeable and we see our parents attending the physician's office more frequently. With age inevitable comes frail health.

Neither my in-laws nor my parents are in the best of health. Each of them suffers from one thing or another, and as they suffer, I suffer along with them. It scares me and makes me worry. And when I get scared and worried, I have a tendency to distance myself, to lessen my own worry, I assume. But it remains, as I see oma struggle to walk, opa cringe when there is too much noise, my mom tell me of her bloodtest results, and my dad as he complains of the arthritis in his hands aching so he can't even drive.

It's easy for me to negate my parents, being physically distanced form them means I don't directly see their ailments...until I see them after a time span and notice the limp in their step, the further balding, the swollen feet. Sometimes it makes it nearly unbearable, seeing the decline in my parents' health after our time apart. But nearly weekly I am in the presence of my in-laws, and I notice this or that or the other and though their negative decline is less noticebale than a reunion with my own parents, it definitely exists and I am confronted with it regularly.

I can't imagine losing one of these people who mean so much. Each of them plays such an importnat role in my life. Opa has allowed me to be myself and laughed with me as I adjusted to becoming a European, made my adjustment easier with him around. Oma is a loving woman with a very open personality which was hard for me in the beginning, but I have come to appreciate, trust, and love. She tells it like it is, and that makes it easy; no second-guessing what she is thinking. My mom is my best friend. I can discuss anything with her and know she will support me no matter what. Even from afar, there is never a doubt to who I will turn when I need a listening ear. My dad and I always had íssues'when I was growing up. He called me out when I needed it, and was a disciplinarian. As I have grown older, he and I have become good friends in addition to him being my dad. We share many of the same ideals and have compassion for each other. He is the man I have always looked up to and has shown me what hard work means, and what you can achieve by being a hard worker.

My grandparents on my mom's side are both still alive, and for this I feel completely blessed. They have given my children the feeling of having that so important extended family. However, neither is free of health problems as well as their age (92 and 84) give reason to worry. They are both at peace with their lives and both are ready for the day their Father calls them home. I'm not sure I am so ready for that day. I am extremely close to my gramma especially, and can't imagine not hearing her voice or receiving her hugs.

This all means that my family bonds are very strong, and for that I am grateful. But it does play a part in the pain and worry when each of them is in pain or has health problems. Being so far away from my parents and grandparents adds an extra burden, and though within the vicinity of my in-laws, we are not close enough for me to help on a daily basis, like I wish I could. Lately I have been doubting the decisions we have made with regards to distancing ourselves physically from family. Though our emotional bond remains close, we aren't nearby to help or be around for them when we are needed. And that plays on my heart.

I know that we need to do what is necessary to make a life for ourselves. We need to consider our children and the path our lives have led us and be together when the time allows. And we do that well, I think. However, health issues arise and it makes me wonder. Just what are our expectations in caring for our aging parents? And how will we achieve this task and fulfill our role as their children?

Gumball Soccer

2011-04-26T10:20:00.005+02:00

Last night tucking Jari into bed was a total and complete adventure. He talked and talked and talked without taking a breath. At 11, he was finally yawning and rubbing his eyes...and once again, I fell asleep before him, singing songs and rubbing his back as I drifted off still fully clothed.

Our conversation last night was started by a book I picked up in the library, called Just Ask. It is filled with one question per page of simple things a kid can answer, such as :what do you think your parents looked like when they were little, or what is your dad good at? The questions just get kids actively thinking about the things in their life.

One question, or rather the answer from my son, made me giggle. The question: What was it like living in your mama's tummy before you were born? With a sigh, Jari asked to skip that page. "It was so boring in there I can't even talk about it." he answered. But with a little prodding I told him it couldn't have been so very boring. "Oh yeah," he replied. "I didn't have too much room, but I sure could kick good in there, huh mama?" he chuckled. "I know, I know" he continued. "It was in your tummy I learned to be such a good soccer player. I think you ate a gumball and swallowed it whole and it came in your tummy and that was my soccer ball, " he went on. "And the way babies are curled up in their mama's tummy, they can do really good backward scissor kicks."

Jari paused for awhile as we looked over the illustration of the inside of a woman's body, with a baby growing in her womb. "Mama, I think I was much better at backward kicks even before I was born cuz I practiced with a gumball in your tummy!" he suddenly replied. "Mama, when you let me kick you all the time, I was learning to be a good soccer player. I think being in your tummy wasn't boring, but I got to play soccer all day long!!! And that's why I am so good at it now." he answered proudly.

I started to reply, but he flipped the page "Next one...."

So, now we know what babies do in their mama's tummy. Mama's just need to swallow gumballs whole and when her baby pops out, he'll be a little soccer star! Isn't imagination fun? In any case, I am enjoying the book as it gives me a very good view into his thoughts about life. And it gives him a chance to really consider things around him. And of course, let his creativity flow!

Oh, and it was me that gave him the opportunity to be the best lil soccer player there is, of course :-) See that there gold medal? GOLD!!! Yep, that's what he won at soccer camp last week. He is my "Rising Star"....and just how'd he achieve that? Kicking mama before he was born. I think I deserve one point for that revelation!

Me and My Man

2011-04-21T12:06:00.004+02:00

Tonight, we're going to be kid-free, my man and I. It's such a strange experience as the kids grow up and have other agendas, and you find yourself alone with this person you chose as your life partner. What do you do, when there are no little people to keep tabs on? The answer should be obvious, but somehow it isn't. Life has gotten comfy and normal and it is just what it is. Having a major orgy together, as interesting as it sounds, just doesn't fit into the picture of life we have created together. But, you never know...

So, I've got steaks marinating in the fridge, took a little extra time shaving in the shower this morning, and cleaned up a few messes I have been meaning to do all week. When he comes home tonight, it's going to be him and I, maybe a movie after dinner, maybe a game, maybe a walk to the canal. I don't know what's in store for us, but I do know the balance has been tilted, what with our little peeps growing into their own.

Kaeden is happily tucked away at his home away from home having fun vacation outings with his friends while Jari has been attending soccer camp all week. Today I hope to watch him receive a trophy for one thing or another as he has definitley earned one with his dedication and fanaticism of the sport. And then, he'll head off for a sleepover with oma and opa, something he asked to do all on his own.

Tomorrow I plan to take Kaeden to the movies, Jari will be off galivanting with oma and opa, and my husband will be off to work. But tonight, just for tonight, it's me and my man. I hope we can find something to talk about that doesn't revolve around the kids. And if we can't find a happy medium in the verbal communications department, there's always an alternative. One way or another, though it's not a typical evening to come, it's going to be a good one...just me and my man!

It Hurts

2011-04-16T20:46:00.004+02:00

It hurts.

I watch him prepare his bag, fill it with clothes and special mementos.

I watch him write a list of all he is to bring.

I watch him without him knowing.

I watch him, and it hurts.

Do you have everything? I ask

A mama and her son.

Yes, I wrote it all down, he says

And I check his list.

You need your coat I say

And I run out to the laundry line and tear it off

I smell his coat, but his scent is gone, clean with soap and sun and air

He pulls his backpack on his back.

He puts his coat on as I hand it to him

And his hand fleetingly touches mine

A mama and her son.

His touch makes me ache, it hurts

A stabbing pain in my heart

As he reaches towards me for a kiss

A kiss, something you do when you say goodbye

For me, a promise of my love

Tender lips touching

A mama and her son.

It's Saturday night, time to go

The sky just beginning to turn dark

As is my spirit as I hug him to me

His coat and his backpack covering

His body I long to feel in my arms.

It hurts, and tears fill my eyes

But will not fall, cannot fall

I must be brave, have courage and faith

This is best, this is what he needs

Goodbye my son, I love you.

And the door closes as he glances back towards me

Seeing the tears threatening to fall

And I smile, have fun this week, kiddo, I say

And as the latch closes tight, I hurt.

And one tear falls as I turn towards the kitchen

To where there is light

And I make a cup of coffee as I tell myself over and over again:

This is best, he needs this, he wants this

He loves this.

But I need you, I want you, I love you, my boy.

And it hurts.

Doctor Mommy

2011-04-07T13:49:00.003+02:00

Sometimes we as parents do something that is perfectly right and it makes us feel proud of our parenting ability. In general, parenting is a difficult game and we usually come out on the bottom, either criticizing ourselves for what we have (or haven't) done, or being criticized by our kids when we do something they don't approve of...often! Though this may not mean our parenting skills are lacking, it does take some of the fun out of this lifelong game in which we have chosen to partake.

There are, however, moments in which we realize our ability and feel confident and secure with these young lives we have been given to teach, love, share, and bewonder. I had one of those moments this week. And it's just those itty bitty things that give us just enough ooomph to keep chugging along.

I noticed Jari was in the bathroom frequently. He has a pretty typical pattern and I know when he has to pee. And it's almost never at school. When he came home and told me he had to pee three times at school, my mama alert went into motion. I watched him over the course of a few days, expecting him to complain of burning or pain when he peed, but nope, he just had to pee a lot. One night as I was tucking him in, he told me he had to pee first...and this after just having gone. After singing him his songs I came down and made an appointment with the doc for the following morning.

The doctor took a urine sample (what a process "Ï don't have to pee now mama! I can't pee in that little jar! What happens if I can't pee?"...but eventually enough little drops filled the bottom of the jar) after I told him the problem and he asked ME what I thought the problem was (Uhm, I would assume it's a bladder infection, though without the pain or burning it makes my conclusion somewhat less viable...I thought I was in med school doing rounds...ha). The sample came back positive with little bladder infection bugs. I had concluded correctly!

When Jari asked what that meant and I told him there were some little bugs in his bladder that we needed to make go away with medicine, the doctor laughed and said he was going to use that explanation for kids from now on. Yes, young doctor, I could teach you a thing or two! But since I can't write my own prescription, please do so for me.

We were handed a prescription, paid our fee (which Jari was in total shock that 10 minutes could cost so much...ha! and when I told him he could pay it with his allowance, I was returned a hearty laugh in your face NO WAY! That's your job cuz you're the mama!) and headed to the pharmacy.

Like I said, it's just the little things. Being aware of your kids, knowing them inside and out, and recognizing that you do. I felt a great sense of pride that without any complaint I was able to pinpoint the problem and do what had to be done.

Being a parent is hard work. It takes energy, time, passion, money, and love. But recognizing that you're doing a good job with the health and happiness of your little peeps, that's worth more than all the money in the world!

Driving

2011-03-31T21:25:00.003+02:00

Today I planned a day out with a girlfriend. For Christmas, I bought her a surprise of High Tea and we just got around to going. She had no clue what our plans were which I always find even more fun. I picked her up and off we went.

I discovered that since my accident and having no current driving experience, I am not nearly as good a driver as I used to be. I think I really need to get out and drive more to gain back some confidence on the road.

Today was the first time I have driven any distance, and I got the okay from my therapist as long as I didn't overdo it to my hand. But what I wasn't prepared for was how much effort it took to drive. Watching everything going on around me, seeing bikers coming at me, one way streets and railroad tracks. It was a bit overwhelming, and by the time we reached our destination, I couldn't wait to get out of the car. Something I used to love and would take any chance to do just doesn't hold the same appeal for me now. Too bad.

Before we reached the safety of the parking spot, I needed to turn around. I pulled into a driveway to do so, backed out, slowed down to allow a biker to pass, and then rammed right into the back of a parked car. On my first day driving in two years. It really shook me up. The lady who saw it happen told me there was no damage as I was getting out of the car to check it out. As I have had no accident in Belgium/Holland, I wasn't quite sure what the procedure was. When she cleared me to go, I asked if she was sure and when she gave me the go ahead, we continued on our way, my hands shaking fiercely.

After our high tea, which was lovely but not quite as spectacular as I had hoped, and definitely not good value for money, I went back to have another look at the car. It was an older Volvo with a rusted bumper and I don't think it did any damage. My car had one small knick on the bumper as well as some paint on the tow hitch. Nothing serious, but enough to scare me about my driving ability. I realise why I wasn't allowed to drive earlier. I know that driving isn't just the physical ability, but also the mental capability.

I need more driving practice before I take on another 'long' trip. My hand feels the workout, but my soul feels just a little more battered than either of the vehicles involved.

Real Women

2011-03-21T17:32:00.004+01:00

I discovered something about myself this weekend. I attended a 40th birthday party for one of our aquaintances through soccer, as well as the dad of one of Jari's friends. Erwin plannede to back out, but I felt we should go. He didn't give, so I decided to go it alone. I am glad I did, as I had a really good time. I also discovered a few things about myself which surfaced during this course of events.

The day of the party, I began mentally going through my closet. What would I wear, how should I do my hair, what did other people wear to such a party? About two hours before the party, I started thinking I should get ready. But an hour before I changed my mind and decided not to go...I had a headache. Erwin told me if I wasn't going to go, I should have cancelled. He was right. I decided to go for a couple hours, just to show my presence and support.

I tore through my closet 10 minutes before arrival time. I have never been to an event of this sort in Belgium before and was unsure how it would go. I decided to go for a slightly dressed up version of typical me. All black for the skinny effect of course. I came downstairs looking nice enough but nerves jittering through me. Kissed everyone goodbye and tore off before I changed my mind again.

I arrived on scene. The entire soccer club was there with exception of one couple, so I was immediately grateful I didn't check out. I signed the card, handed over my money, and glanced at all the moms around me. Some were dressed casually, some sexily, some contemporary...and all held umbrellas, except for me with rain sticking in my hair. I felt comfortable and at ease as we all walked in the party quarters together.

I am a chicken shit. That's what I learned. I have difficulty just being myself. I don't like to stand out at all. And so I do what I have to do to just blend in. And usually I do and I am just fine.

However, the people I most like and who I can truly relate to and enjoy being around are those women who just be themselves. They don't care what they are wearing or what they say, but just blurt out whatever comes and dress to their own level of comfort. They drink three times as much wine as the rest and don't mind getting out there on the dance floor and sincerely letting loose. As other women giggle at their actions, roll eyes when they turn their back, these women just choose to be who they are.

I talked with a lot of people that night. There were some serious conversations, lots of jokes, and talk about our kids, soccer, everyday life. But when two of the women I really like chugged down another glass of wine and started hopping to the music out alone on the dance floor, I chose to join them. It was a party, afterall, and I was in a plce I didn't have to drive and with people I didn't have to impress.

I danced and I drank and I let loose, after my initial looking around to see what others would think of me. When I decided I didn't care, I turned into me...someone free to be who she is, proud of what she is and who she has become. I told some jokes, put my arms in the air and let the music and the liquor take me wherever it wanted to lead.

Many people commented on a side of me they have not yet seen. I realized I have been too careful, too cautious, too much of a follower blending in with the crowd. There are times for that woman, times when you should blend in and not cause a scene. Times when you should be proper and a lady. I can be those things, that person. But it isn't the true me. The true me likes to laugh and smile and have fun. I have broken out, for the first time since living in Belgium. And I am free to be me.

I like the women who don't succomb to social norms. I hope they'll appreciate me too. The real me. Not the one they thought they knew. Becuase though she will still make an appearance, she may decide to break out of the mold from time to time and just party...just be.

Good Morning

2011-03-16T09:39:00.003+01:00

The little king leaves our bed

It's just you and me

The sun shining through the window

Morning wakes us gently.

I reach out to touch you

Feel your skin beneath my hand

The warmth overcomes me

As it begins to expand.

It isn't just how much I love you

Or a good morning kiss

Your touch brings me closer

Do they call this wedded bliss?

I hear the day beginning

Outside our warm nest

Car motors running, people talking

Yet I forget all the rest.

Your hands encase me tightly

I feel happiness begin to spread

This is the way to start the morning

Two hearts dancing in our bed.

The alarm clock shrills out the time

Turn it off, I can't let go

I don't want to lose the warmth

This feeling all aglow.

Yet the sun shines now brighter

It's time to start the day

Hesitantly with a final sigh

The pleasure falls away.

I stand to face the sunshine

A smile on my face

Your touch has brought me closest

To my very favorite place.

Japan and Natural Disasters

2011-03-14T16:41:00.004+01:00

I; like so many others, have been watching the video footage of the disaster zone Japan has become. It sits like a pit in my stomach, knowing what the people are going through. Knowing I can't do much more than watch and hope and pray, send my few little dollars to some relief fund.

I have been through disasters in my life. Plenty of them, including natural disasters. I survived the Northridge earthquake in 1994, and from that experience I come away with knowledge of what such circumstances bring to these people. Homelessness, worry, fear. I lost my home, my clothes, my dishes and my mementos. None of them were ever replaced, though with help I moved on and faced life. Granted, I ended up leaving Californai and moving back to my parents for help, but I eventually found my way and made a place for myself in this world.

When I moved on, I slowly replaced all my material possessions. I took new pictures and got a new home. I continued my journey in college and graduated with honors. I had a child and became a teacher. It was what moving on meant. Yet still, to this day, it touches a place inside me when I hear of such news. It brings me back to the night I felt saved by angels, walking out of my apartment alive while walls and streets crumbled around me. My dog and my friends were a saving grace during the period following the earthquake.

I stood in lines for food, I stood in lines to fill out paperwork for a place to live, I stood in lines to find a job, I stood in lines for a place to sleep for a night. FEMA helped with accomodations in a hotel, as well as food vouchers. I was given clothing. All the basic neccessities to live were shared with me, while my innocence and security was lost. It wasn't all bad. As I stood in those lines, people of every culture, color, and religion stood with me, and we made each other feel safe and collected and bound within the group of those suffering the damages of something bigger than us. It made us strong as a group, this suffering and working together to make it work. At the age of 21, it was even a bit of excitement. Though I had lost my home, it wasn't mine that I had worked years to achieve and was ripped form me in the blink of an eye. My apartment was gone, my home still housed in the Wyoming mountains.

I did eventually go home. Finding a job in the face of such chaos proved unfruitful. Finding a home I could afford was also no cup of tea...who would accept my voucher? But always with me is the chaos and destruction that happened the night of the Northridge earhtquake, as well as all that was lost, and all gained during the period following.

The people in Japan are suffering. Their temporary housing and food vouchers can only give them comfort for so long. They have lost and suffer worry, fear, homelessness. Their homes and all the comforts they have known have been stripped from them. As I sit in my home furnished with a computer and cell phones and a new big screen tv and lights and heat and furniture and a few new clothes I bought last week, I think of these people. These peopel, just like me, who have suddenly nothing left, some not even so lucky to have their lives. It sits like a pit in my stomach. What is my responsibility to these people? They are so far away, Japan isn't even on the same continent. What can I do to help ease the burden? What can I do other than offer my prayers, my hopes, and my compassion from afar?

Tea and Comfort

2011-03-04T23:31:00.004+01:00

The house is quiet. All I hear is the sound of the tv as I sit back and tune it out. I have a cup of cinnamon apple tea, warm in my hand, and the smell seduces me, causing me every so often to take a sip. It's a comfortable feeling, sitting here alone, knowing everyone is safe and sleeping gently just where they belong. I have gotten up a number of times to turn out the loghts and head to the cozy warmth of my bedroom, but my eyes are as yet not ready to close. They are enjoying this solitude, this peace.

WE have started a new program with Kaeden, coordinating with his home away from home, as they work with us trying to develop a sense of relaxation for all of us when he is at home. It's quite a complicated system, but last weekend, the first weekend we use dit, was the best we have had in a very long time. I know my kid, and I know he gets a thrill out of new things. I know that the level of comfort we all felt last week is most likely a short-lived happiness, but I dare to hope none-the-less. I would give my life to find comfort and peace coexist in our home, just as I feel now, relaxed and content.

Kaeden desires peace in our home. He desires a better relationship with his dad, sharing life with his little brother as only brothers can, having a mama whom doesn't cry everytime her son actually shines in happiness. He wants things to be better, but just as we ask every day of our lives, he also asks the question "How?"

We are starting with aggression. Kaeden has a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to violent behavior since last week, and as much as I am happy it exists, I am also scared. What happens when that zero-tolerance is crossed? We have a plan, but can it fall into place? Will he have the ability to stop his behavior and recognize the consequence of his actions? Kaeden must show respect for people and material objects. He must show respect to us as his parents by following our guidance if he begains to sway and fail, and he must recognize when he is becoming angry and leave the scene before he explodes. These are not easy feats, and though our first week went flawless and my pride in my son soared, I worry for the consequences that will follow IF he does fail. It has become a habit, common-place in our home. We have turned rather than faced the problem head-on simply becuase we don't know what to do. WE now have assistance, as well as back-up. Will it be enough? Will it give him the motivation to try to stay in control? To learn to show respect?

We must let the other behaviors slide while we work first on aggression. Will we be able to carry on, to let things slide which are really not okay? Will we have the strength to carry through with zero-tolerance? Will we have the strength to show him praise for simple things which aren't really due praise?

This week we all sent Kaeden a card, thanking him for the terrific weekend, telling him how much we appreciated his effort, and in turn his success. I didn't ask anyone to sign it, but simply told Erwin and Jari I had it and was planning to send it. When I stuck it in the envelope, all three of us had written Kaeden a personal note....without my request. I dare to hope, with a shallow wall protecting my soul. I want to break the wall down, but it's not yet time. The hope is high, the spirit strong, and I am comfortable and cozy in my home. My family is secure and safe and relaxed, and as I drink the last swallow of my tea, I finally feel like this plan, this little piece of help, may be what I need to finally be able to breathe. I pray for our success, each and every one of us.

Home Movies

2011-02-21T12:43:00.003+01:00

Home movies on the tv. Seems like such a fun experience, bringing back moments in time, remembering our kids as babies, special times shared with those we love. It's an experience to watch these videos, thinking how much has changed since that long past day.

For me, though, home movies are not a piece of magic. I watch those long ago moments and wonder where I went wrong, what more I could have done. When I see my husband and son walking together down a wooded path holding hands, my little boy lughing and smiling and playing and jumping as little boys are supposed to do, it tugs at my heart in a way that nothing else can. It becomes an ache that claws away until inevitably tears begin to fall and I feel failure with a capital F creeping into my every bone. What happened to make those magical moments disappear? How did we go from loving, easy-going family to the point we have now reached?

Yesterday, oma and opa came for a visit. It wasn't a visit that turned out the way we always hope they will. Kaeden ended up throwing a tantrum, to a degree they have yet not seen. The extent of damage one mound of anger and disharmony creates is something that can't be turned around. It stands the test of time, in a manner which we'd rather it didn't. Such behaviors, such words and complete uncontrol, are not soon to be forgotten. The tremebling fear holding their littlest grandson in his own fearful tremor takes a piece of your soul and rips it to shreds. Knowing what is happening, seeing it first hand rather than living it through stories, is not something I can take back, no matter how much I wish I could. Nobody should have to be victim to that feeling of helplessness and pain.

We watched home videos. Erwin asked Kaeden to clean up the tools he used to make a mess in the freshly cleaned porch outside. Kaeden didn't want to and left the room in anger...to his bedroom, where we left him to chill out. When he had enough time, I reminded him he wouldn't have dinner until he was done cleaning up. And then it all began. The disrespect, anger, spitting, threatening. And it wasn't quick to stop.

The home movies played on. Scenes of happiness from another time, another place threw laughter out of the speakers, as screams and crying and dirty words flew presently around our home. The laughter and smiles contined to play on. And on and on and on. Soon, nobody was watching. The air in our home was stripped of life-giving oxygen as we all held our breath. Only the happiness from the tv continued to breathe.

My scared little boy, my angry husband, my hopeless self and a non-existant Kaeden swallowed up in his own little world of pain..along with my in-laws, standing by horrified, wanting to intercede, but me stopping the further round of aggression.

Still the home movies played on. Later in the evening, after a sort of settling had taken place in our home, a calm after the storm, but still lingering, this tension, this secret of which nobody wanted to speak, I sat with Kaeden, the home movies still flashing across the screen. He laughed at the little boy he was, the little kid climbing rocks, his beautiful face covered by blonde hair with a plastered on smile, a smile and a sense of complete joy, which never left him. Kaeden laughed, as the boy on the screen before me and the young man next to me, and I cried. The pain of all that is lost, all that has been swallowed by the passing of time. And the home movies continued to play on.

Vacation with Autism

2011-02-18T09:06:00.005+01:00

We always go on vacation at Easter time. The boys have 2 weeks off from sachool, Erwin schedules his week off at the beginning of the year, and we steal away to one place or another hoping for some relaxation and distance from typical life. An escape from reality.

This year, it is no different than other years. We are still planning a week away, the four of us off on new adventures. But there was something that happened which made it a bit different. I found a vacation deal which was *almost* too good to pass up.

Typically, with just a week vacation, we stay close to home. Germany has been a regular stop, Luxembourg, and Holland. Belgium is also entirely possible, of course. We save the big places, the further distances, for summer when the weather is certain and the time longer. We have as yet never been to France on vacation, but it's also just a stone throw away. This year, however, I discovered a trip to Italy. A quick flight from the airport nearby our home. A rental car and little house on the Gardameer lake. All under 500 euro for all 4 of us. Which is considerably more than we usually spend for our week away, but considering it's Italy and flying, it was a totally doable vacation.

Erwin and I discussed it, and both of us were ready to book our vacation. Then, I got this niggling feeling in the back of my head which wouldn't go away, and I started looking for vacations closer to home. Last night, I spoke with Erwin about all the reasons I hadn't yet booked the Italy trip.

Kaeden. Kaeden, Kaeden, and more Kaeden. Our son is just too temperamental. From minute to minute we can never be sure how he reacts to a situation. Traveling he is almost always a star. He is helpful and organised and on his best behavior. He loves going on vacation and exploring and adventure. That may not sound very áutistic', but for him, it is what it is. Our autistic son loves new experiences.

However, the house I found in Italy which we could afford to make the trip was a one bedroom place. We always book 3 bedroom homes to give us all space to escape, no matter that the cost is higher. Kaeden needs his own space to escape, and we need it as well. If something goes awry, we need a time-out place. One bedroom would not allow us this luxury, this absolute need. And, as I searched further for a larger home, I realized that in Italy, you get what you pay for, and something bigger was not within budget.

A rental car. Yes, we would need a rental car if we were planning to fly and still go off exploring. This is ssuch a simple thing for travellers, renting a vehicle and taking off. But when you have a person with you, for whom riding in a car is his most difficult exercise anywhere, anytime, and often has major bouts of tantrums in a vehicle, a rental car becomes expensive. What if he broke a window hitting it? What if he rippe doff a seat? What if he tore holes in the fabric? What if he caused an accident, god forbid, as he threw himself over the seats? These may all be what if's, and certainly not expected, but all experiences we have shared with him which make us worry when renting a vehicle. The costs we could endure in damages makes us think twice. Especially after our trip to America at Christmas still fresh on our minds when the ride in the rental car became a complete disaster, nearly causing an accident.

Flying. Kaeden loves to fly and is extremely well prepared to do so. He has done much more flying than the typical child his age, and knows all the ins and outs of airports, airplanes, and baggage. However, we don't 'normally' fly on our week long trips. This change in itself could cause him enough stress to throw him out of sync. It's these little things for which he is unprepared that cause him the most fear and impatience and moodiness. He is used to driving to a vacation house and searching out his bedroom and looking where all the dishes are and the pots and pans, and exploring the area around the house. But we don't fly to get there. Would that be enough to send him over the edge?

So, with a too small house, the possible extra costs involved in damages, and the unexpected transportation, I could see in my mind all the scenarios why this trip to Italy may not be a good decision. As much as *I* wanted to go, I also knew that I didn't want to deal with extra fights, extra stress, and extra worries in a time we are suppoosed to enjoy each other and our break from life. The trip to Italy was something I wasn't prepared to do.

This decision has left me feeling a bit sad. Not becuase i am missing out, but because life with autism is so difficult. Simple decisions become a process. Fun things create stress situations which in turn create major tantrums. We are limited in what we can do, yet we don't let the limitations get the best of us. We force Kaeden to deal with them. Are we fair to him in doing so? I think, yes, he must learn to deal with thse situations in order to be prepared for life. I, however, and unwilling to take a good vacation and ruin it in my selfish desire for just a little *more*. I'll be looking for a vacation closer to home, a little vacation house with 3 bedrooms and a quick trip there, and save my Italy dreams for the summer, when time is on our side. And the experiences can extend when Kaeden is visiting family or happy with his friends at school on camp, and we can make that rest and relaxation really meaningful without the stress it causes for our son and our family.

And we'll go away for our week at Easter, and we'll have fun and enjoy each other and explore new areas and have advetures together as a family...and it will be the perfect family vacation. The other perfect vacation can wait for the perfect time, without the undue stress, without it being our ~entire~ family.

Speaking Of Jari

2011-02-08T11:54:00.003+01:00

I'm going to give Jari a little attention here today...he's my kid and I can if I wanna. Plus, he amazes me. He really, truly does. I can't begin to describe this kid. He is like this part of me of which I am so filled with pride. If only he could be a little more outgoing with people. Because that aspect of him bothers me a little. He seems almost rude, when in reality it is shyness that overcomes him. In place of shyness, it seems like he is rude and just doesn't care. When in reality, what he desires is attention and play and fun...with and from those he acts so shy around. But that's another story. For now:

1) Last night Jari and I were snuggled in bed and I had promised him he could watch a movie if we could just do it in the warmth of my cosy bed. He chose Dances With Wolves. I pulled the covers around me and immediately felt his arm wrap around me. "Mama, does that feel good?" he asked. No words could describe just how good it felt, to have my son wrapping me in the comfort of his love. None.

2) So we're watching Dances With Wolves. And there are gunshots and someone dies. And Jari says "he just killed himself. That's called suicide." And I was in shock that my son knew what suicide is. I mean, I guess nothing shocks me, but it caught me by surprise. It is not somehting I have ever discusse with him. So I asked where he learned about it. And we started talking about suicide and how life affects people. And he told me that no matter what, even if his life was filled with bumps, he would never kill himself because life has too much good in it. And that when people commit suicide it makes their family sad. And "I would never want you to be sad, mama."

3) Jari brought home his report card, and asks me to sit with him and go through it. One for one, he reads the subject and his results. We get through math and langauge and spelling and geography. And we come to the page for physical ed. "Mama, this one, you can't wait to hear this! This is the important part!" says my little ahtletic son. ***When I told him I liked to see his phys ed results but cared more about his actual learning subjects, he couldn't believe it!***

4) Jari is an expert in countries. I mean, his interest in lands is unbelievable, and I can bet that of 100 random people, he could beat 98 of them in a geography test. I am not joking. He knows where countries are, what the capitols are, and what their flag is. He knows approximately how many people live in a country (not all, but surprisingly many) and where they fall size-wise in comparison to other countries. We received a world map shower curtain fro Christmas, so now he is also learning this information in English. His favorite game is the Flag game, and nobody can beat him...not his teacher, not his classmates, not his father (who is also very well-schooled in this area). I am blown away by his interest and knowledge in geography. When we play the game together, he is so proud of me when I learn something new. Yesterday at lunch we wer eplaying, and for the first time I recognized the flag El Salvador, and also got the capital, San Salvador. He grinned from ear to ear, saying "Mama, see how much you learn when you play with me!"

These are just a very few of the little things about my boy. He is beautiful, with big blue eyes and hair much too long. He is small for his age but proudly getting bigger all the time. He has a shoe fetish and loves new shoes. He eats tiny amounts 10 times a day, and without fail after dinner he is hungry again after 20 minutes. Warm chocolate milk is incomplete without melty marshmallows and lunchtime without Genie in the House is a disaster. He's my kid, and I just love him to pieces...all of him....except maybe the very big mouth that has been accompanying him everywhere we go lately :-)

Alive at the Park

2011-01-29T23:21:00.004+01:00

Running. Laughing. PLaying. Jumping. Twisting. Turning. Today I did it all. My favorite part? Taking deep breaths trying to keep up, and feeling alive. Not just alive, but really ALIVE!

We had a strange day today...a bit of this, a little of that...and then we decided to spend the afternoon with the boys at the playground. It was Erwin's idea, his desire to haul me out of my electric blanket paradise and away to land of the living. It was so cold t

oday, my fingers and toes were numb and snuggled under my blankets seemed the only proper place to be. But no go...I pulled on my shoes, grabbed a scarf and mittens, and off we went, the four of us, my little family.

There weren't many people at the park. I enjoyed hearing little giggles of laughter as a little girl went down the slide, and a squeal of delight from her ma

ma watching her. But it was the pitter patter of the basketball on the basketball court that had my attention. Tick, tick, tick...ticktick...whoosh. It was our goal...a family basketball game.

Jari and I were on a team after I persuaded him I'm not too bad at basketball (yet again, needs persuading) and Erwin and Kaeden in their tall glory were favorites. Jari and I did good. We shared laughs, we shared moves, we made up a team and

gave each other high fives. And I huffed and puffed and wiggled and waddled all over that court trying to prove my basketball star stautus to my son.

I don't know if I was successful, but we sure had fun. And I felt alive. My cheeks tinged with warmth from moving and my lungs filling with air time and again. It felt good.

We had more fun, playing games and having races and concluding with a soccer match. Walking back to the car, I was completely fulfilled. I felt alive.

Bunches of Stuffs

2011-01-23T22:39:00.003+01:00

It has been so long since I have posted. My life has been full of highs and lows since then, like a wicked rollercoaster ride, leaving me breathless, my cheeks a rosy tint against a spinning background.

Today I spent the day with my eldest son. I was so happy to have some alone time with just him, as we act and react so differently when it's just him and I compared to when others are around. I just feel so much more natural and at ease when it's just the two of us. Maybe that has to do with our start in life, just him and I together, or maybe it's the complicated relationships that exist in our family that make me feel this way, but when an opportunity arises for it to be him and I, I grab it and hold on for the ride. WE played games, ate popcorn and drank fou-fou drinks he created, and watched movies together. He was a picture perfect example of a picture perfect teenager spending a picture perfect day with his mom (she, however, was not picture perfect. she is going through a major self-hate phase which had better change very soon before deep destruction is done) I sincerely enjoyed my day with my friend and it was very easy and content and free of stress.

Jari started playing on his old soccer team again. In August we agreed to him moving a level higher, as his skill level was advanced and they needed another player in that age bracket. Within weeks we realized we had made a wrong decision, though our decision was based upon Jari's own wishes. He pulled away from soccer, didn't find excitement in practice, and quit talking shop. After school there was no longer a race to see how many penalties he could make before the teachers left, and his soccer skills even started to retreat. On the field, we saw a very different little boy playting a very different game from last year. I finally made an appointment with the youth soccer heads to move my son back to his old level. Happily, since the move a month ago, we are starting to see our son shine once again. He is playing, trying moves, making passes and scoring. He can't wait for practice, and comes home onlyt to run outside and play soccer. It's so nice to see that gleam back in his eye. It's so nice to have that piece of our lives back.

We went to America for Christmas vacation. It was such a wonderful week...really, truly wonderful. Just being in that large-family Christmas mode with everyone here and there and everywhere, all working together and sharing, laughter and smiles and hearing storiesd here there and everywhere. Sharing another Christmas with my grandparents, and most especially my boys having this opportunity is something I do not take for granted. My grampa at 92 and my gramma at 84 years of age, being with them and around them, it makes you appreciate life and health and experience even more. It makes you want to live a happy, fulfilling life. To make the most of what you have. My boys, my husband, and I were all very happy with this vacation, and it will be one I won't forget.

That being said, I am struggling. I am aware of this pattern in myself, a sadness and deep depression that overtakes me after some visits 'home'. Yet, I am unsure how to stop the ache that settles in, the disappointment in myself and my life, the worry with how my dreams are not coming to life. I try to encourage myself every morning, get up and paste on a new day happy face, but it isn't working. I'm not sure how to make it better, but I had better start with something physical. I don't even recognize myself anymore in the mirror, through the sadness in my eyes and the extra skin falling off my face. I want to be happy, for my boys to remember their mom as one filled with pride and smiels and hugs full of love. Not s depressed machine that hates waking up to every morning, the bitterness I have towards my husband for reasons completely beyond his control.

We took a walk in the woods, last weekend and again yesterday. It makes me feel alive, feel air on my face, feel nature and life around me...and see my boys happily running up, down, around, through, over, under...running and being boys and mine all mine. And it makes me feel temporarily like things might be okay, that this is how life is supposed to be...if only I could live life through my photographs, the ones of wind-kissed faces and freedom and energy...I need tyo find the life in my photos, feel what I see, and use it to bring it to life time and time again...live the memories to make even more.

Merry Christmas

2010-12-23T23:34:00.003+01:00

With wishes for a very Merry Christmas and a New Year filled with a whole lotta wonderful!

Chrtistmas Wishes

2010-12-20T10:00:00.003+01:00

Christmas is made of magic and wishes and beautiful stories to fill your heart...

Last night, we were all sitting watching The Polar Express...a very favorite Christmas film of mine, which Jari chose. As it was nearing the end, and the kid gets to pick the first gift of the year, Jari says to me: If I could have one wish, I KNOW what my wish would be.

I looked at him and asked, simplÿ, "What?"

He leans over and whispers to me, "I have a wish, but I can only tell you. Not Kaeden and Papa." and he glanced at Kaeden sitting nearby and he put his finger to his lips in a shushing gesture.

We finished watching the film and I told the boys it was time to get ready for bed. Jari snuggled up to me and I could see he had something on his mind. "Jari" I whispered. "What would be your wish?"

My little boy looked up at me, and one lone tear fell from his eye as he wiped it away (yes, really). He pulled me under the blanket with him and whispered in my ear, "If I could have just one wish, I'd wish for Kaeden and Papa to not fight any more."

Though I knew this was an emotional moment, it took me by surprise. While many children wish for toy cars and computer games, nothing could fulfill the wish list of my son more fruitfully than peace in our home, in his life.

Sobs shook my body as I held me son against me. We lay there, in each other's arms, sharing a hope which we both believe can never come true. We believe in the Christmas spirit, in Sanata Claus and Rudolph, but something simple like a happy family is something we dare not dream, though the hope and desire remains fully alive.

I pulled my son's face to mine, looking him eye to eye. I kissed the tip of his nose and whispered in his ear, "Jari, that is the most beautiful wish I have ever heard." With a last tight squeeze, he took off to brush his teeth and get ready for bed.

Christmas is made of Magic. I hope the magic helps my son's only wish to come true, because I am powerless in this situation. It's just a little wish...please make it come true.

Christmas

2010-12-09T19:21:00.004+01:00

I just got off the phone with my mom. I feel a surge of energy fill me up and excite my every nerve ending when I talk to her lately. All we chitchat about revolves around Christmas. And the fact that we'll be together this Christmas...and what a blessing that is for us and our families.

Who's name did I draw? What should I bring? When will you arrive? Who will be there and when? I sent some presents to Jo's house...can you let her know? It's going to be one of those great big old fashioned family Christmasses of my past...sharing it in the presence of my grandparents, though no longer in their home, all of us coming and going, being together. Cousins, aunts, uncles, siblings, parents...we're all going to be pitching in to make a great Christmas celebration. It sounds like so much fun!

I have been praying for a miracle, hoping that my brother and his family would also be present this year. Unfortunately, I'm not sure that it will happen, but whether present at the festivities or not, they will certainly share our space in love and prayer for a healthy, happy, blessed new year. I only wanted for our children to be able to come to know each other better, to play as I played with my cousins as a kid, to feel the smothering comfort of being with family. Yes, smothering...maybe that's what scares them away...we're all so very different. How is it that people raised in the same home, under the same rules, with the same parenst and discipline can turn out to be such different people? I see it with my brothers and I, but also in my own children. Life, and how it affects us, all in our own way.

Christmas is on my mind. I can't wait til it's arrival...to be encircled in the wreath of my family, captured in hugs and laughter, smiles and emotion. It will be a gift. A gift to treasure.

Words in Bed

2010-12-06T13:01:00.002+01:00

Saturday morning was a really good one for me. My kids woke up early and I followed them downstairs to see what the Belgian Sinterklaas had left on the plate they had set out for him. Excitedly, they found cookies and candies and a couple little surprises, including a lottery ticket each...a luxury they thoroughly enjoy. They were happy with their gifts, knowing that the 'real' Sinterklaas would be visiting oma and opa's house later in the evening.

I went back up to bed, it being too early after a late night watching tv, and snuggled with my husband. He decided to check on the kids, see their surprises, then crawled back into bed next to me. I snuggled against him, warming up, and we talked about everything under the sun. Talked and talked and talked, as if there was so much to say and we could never get it all out. It is something we have been missing in our relationship, and something I greatly treasured this Saturday morning.

Even with tons to do to prepare for our evening of Sinterklaas, those hours snuggled next to my husband in bed talking and laughing were the best gift I could have received. When Erwin announced that it was already 10:30, I was in shock. We really had spent time just the two of us together.

It is so easy to forget the importance of talking and being present for each other in a relationship. SO much gets in between you and those moments; kids, dishes, laundry, bills, sports, work, computer time. But they are more important than anything else in keeping your relationship alive and strong.

I can't believe how much lighter I feel after having had that one day of intimacy with my man. Something so intimate as words, and how they affect us, how they relate to us and our lives. We need to take the time to make more of these moments. More time together, sharing and learning and laughing.

Friendship

2010-12-02T09:58:00.003+01:00

It was the strangest feeling I have had to date as the mom of an autistic child. It was a feeling I can't quite describe, and am still trying to come to terms with. It was beyond a simple grateful, floated a little higher than hope, and the joy in my heart could be grabbed and held, so palpable it was.

During our Thanksgiving weekend, I gave thanks, as I do every year. For my family and friends, for people in my life who care and share their love, for the ability to be a stay at home mom and provide my children with that security, for my husband who gives of himself to allow this reality, for the level of comfort we lead in our lives, able to provide food, clothing, shelter, in a country with many opportunities available. I was thankful, as I am thankful on any given day.

However, this year there was a touch more. A new experience I was being afforded, one I had never dared to believe could come true. In addition to be surrounded by family this year, each of my children was flocked by a friend joining our Thanksgiving celebration. With Jari, this is not something so confound. Jari is regularly found traipsing with friends, visitors to our home or he to theirs. However, it is no less a blessing, knowing your child is capable of friendship and having that open doors to your soul. But the biggest blessing that filled my heart this Thanksgiving celebration was sharing the table with Kaeden's friend. Kaeden's friend, whom would spend the night and 2 full days with our family, with our son. A true friend.

I am grateful for Sacha. He brought with him a guitar, a duffel bag of clothes, and a sense of something greater that nothing can ever replace. He gave me a feeling of normalcy, of being a typical family who has friends coming in and out at all hours of the day and night. He brought with his presence a feeling of pride in Kaeden, of wanting to show off his home, his village, his family. Wanting to have a good weekend without disagreement, without any discord. And in me, a glowing light that didn't stop shining, knowing my boy, my kid, has a friend. A real-life friend, not just someone he picked up during a tour in a musuem(typical for Kaed), or from a grocery store line a nice old man giving his attention whom Kaeden names his best friend. Not those people who are kind, but not friends; but a true friend. Someone not autistic, but who cares about Kaeden. Who sees problems Kaeden has and yet chooses to still be his friend, and not only be there for him, but try to help him find new ways.

I can't put into words what this meant to me. I can't help but smile when I think of this friendship, typical teenage boys riding bikes and laughing and coming home asking for a snack. It has been a dream of mine...and this Thanksgiving, it finally came true.

Thanksgiving

2010-11-27T00:01:00.004+01:00

My boys are tucked into bed without a single bit of difficulty. My husband made it safely home after a dinner party with colleagues after work. There is a baked pie cooling on the counter and jello thickening in the fridge. I have a menu ready and placemats painted. Little turkeys made of egg cartons are awaiting their place next to each place setting. My kitchen floor is soiled like never before, and my dishwasher chose today to quit working...when nearly every dish in the house needs a washing.

Today I am calm and centered. It is a special day. Yesterday Thanksgiving passed with nary a second glance. I spent the day with my American girlfriend, shopping, talking, and completing our day with turkey sandwiches. Last night I read Jari the story of the first Thanksgiving. But it was just another day, really. Today, I started out shopping for women's party gifts discussing what Black Friday means to someone who has never heard of it. I came home to make lunch for my son, did some surfing online, and completed my crossguard duties. Then, I started gathering Thanksgiving supplies, collecting items stored from the attic, moving furniture, looking up recipes and gatehring ingredients. And when my boys were home from school, we started working together, all three of us, their excitement catching as music played on MTV.

Decorations were hung, couches moved, tables put together and washed vigorously. They couldn't stop talking about Thanksgiving and most importantly, sharing the day with their friends. Each boy was allowed to invite one friend this year. Both chose and can't wait to share this special day, expand their Belgian friends worlds to include a little something from America. Another piece of them, unknown to the world within our reach. Finding out just a bit more about who they are through this tradition I have passed onto them. A piece of America, a piece of us, within these European boundaries.

Today, though the work has been aplenty, I feel a sense of achievement. As we prepare for our Thanksgiving celebration, a bit later than the actual day itself, I stand back and look at the works I have completed. I am thankful for these two boys in my presence, who though they drive me crazy and cause me worry beyond belief, have also allowed this sense of importance to forge through. Though I'm not even sure they realize it, this celebration is more than just a celebration of Thanksgiving. It is a celebration of their heritage, that little piece they have yet to discover and understand. The piece of me I have worked so hard to carry through to them. I am thankful that I have succeeded. That they are excited to share this with their friends. That it is also important to them.

Surrounding me are people I love and care for. This year, there are two new faces to add to our crowd. Two new faces to accept my boys as this other side shines through. Tomorrow our celebration will begin by being thankful for this opportunity to raise awareness. Awareness of differences. Awareness of something we don't understand. And accepting and celebrating that which we learn. Happy Thanksgiving.

Hazy Death

2010-11-20T12:11:00.002+01:00

It's building in me
This thing that closes off my throat
That fills my head with fuzz
I can't breathe
I can't see
All that is before me is a haze
The only thing alive
Is the thing growing inside

The desire
To smash and throw and scream
I pull my hair as a groan escapes
A howling that blasts through my ears
Barely audible but to me
The howl of the deepest pain
My hair in handfuls in my fists
Unfeeling
A haze I can't function

I move towards my bed
The serenity and tranquility
To remove me from the haze
My clothes shedded
My body upon the cool sheets
My scream muffled by a pillow
My tears like a river growing deeper
As each second unfolds

The haze lessening
The blankets warm
The thing leaving behind
A mottled face
An aching head
And a stomach queasy
A pillow wet and sad
Death of the haze
Death of yet another little piece
Of my already dying soul

I awaken
It remains, the thing
Though it's already forgotten
Put into the past
I can't shake the uneasiness
The haze, the thing
This, The death of me

Early Intervention

2010-11-16T08:25:00.004+01:00

You know, I was thinking about Kaeden and his autism and the very beginning of my life with him after reading a post by Tanya at Teen Autism (www.teenautism.com) about surveying parents of autistic kids. It really made me think...and wonder.

I had no clues about Kaeden's autism until he was about 3. It was then that I started noticing little differences that clued me into something being not quite right. Of course, now that I know he is autistic and I know the signs of autism, there were clues prior to age 3. Things I mistakenly thought were him 'being a boy' or 'all kids are different' or 'he just has a lot of energy'. However, this being said, I don't know that I would have wanted it any other way.

They talk about early detection and early intervention. And though I agree that it helps to recognize that something is wrong, I feel that early detection and early intervention may be a mistake. There, I said it. I disagree with catching autism too soon. Because once it is discovered and detected and intervened, life can no longer just be life. The kid can no longer be a kid, the parents can no longer just be parents. The kid is the kid with autism and the parents are the parents of the kid with autism. And once we have those labels, there is no turning back.

You can argue with me that we sense something all along, or that the child will never be able to be a 'normal'kid, or that the behaviors of the child already have us stressed as parents. And while those are all valid points and real, it is still my belief that kids with autism such as my son (not classic, but higher functioning) benefit from being allowed to be a kid.

When Kaeden was a baby and toddler, he led a life that every other neuro-typical kid lived. He went to daycare, he went to the playground, he took baths with water and bubbles, he got his shots and well child checks, and he made lots of messes. He watched Barney over and over again, he fingerpainted and played hide and seek. He didn't take an array of vitamins or bathe in epsom salts. He wasn't scheduled with so many therapists there wasn't a moment's break in the day. He didn't have PECS to schedule his life. He was just a kid.

I understand why parents take all these steps early in their child's life. I really do understand. We want to do everything we can to help our child be the most successful he can be. But in that quest to help them, I think we sometimes forget that first and foremost our kid is just a kid. All that autism hubbub and everything that comes with it is secondary. It's not less important, but it does distract from the fact that we have this kid...this living breathing little piece of ourselves who wants to play and eat and whines to get what they want.

When Kaeden used to scream when I vacuumed, I didn't understand why. I just vacuumed when he wasn't around. I now know he had sensitivity to sound. The result was the same, whether I knew he had autism or I didn't. We have instincts as parents. We know how to help our kids (to a certain degree). We know when they aren't happy, or when they are aggitated. And then we do what we can do about it.

Kaeden didn't have any autism-related intervention until he was 6 years old. Kaeden is not free of his autism, he is not cured, and he has many signs and symptoms of being autistic at the age of 15. He has outbursts and fixations and sensory overloads. He also thrives on music and sound, obssesses about money, and uses a strict schema for accomplishing tasks. But he is still autistic, just as he was when he was 3 and I first had doubts about issues.

I am glad we didn't have early intervention programs, as it would never have allowed us to have the enjoyment of each other we had without autism lurking in the background. I know many people will disagree, but in my heart of hearts, I stand true to the opinion. I am glad my kid was able to be just a kid, and I was able to just be that kids mom!

Sinterklaas

2010-11-13T17:02:00.004+01:00

Kaeden came home with a letter from school this week. "Here mom, it's a stupid note," he says handing it to me. "Just check YES on all of it. You don't even have to read it."

I took the note and read it anyway. It was about Sinterklaas and whether our children believe in him and our thoughts on him being in the school. I did check yes to the following questions, as Kaeden read them to me. 1) Does your child have interest in Sinterklaas? 2) Do you think Sint should visit the school? 3) Does Sint bring you gifts and candy at home?

As he read, he tells me, "Of course I have interest in Sinterklaas. Why wouldn't someone be interested in Sint? And even when I was little Sint came to visit at school. WHy should he stop coming now? It's fun to have Sinterklaas visit us at school. And this is the dumbest question. Does he bring presents? HA Of course he does. That's what Sinterklaas does. He brings kids presents."

I didn't discuss the issue further with him, he was already aggitated from the necessity of the note.

Yesterday, I was in a warehouse with the boys. Sinterklaas costumes hung on racks by the door and I sneakily diverted Jari away to look at Lego. However, Kaeden saw the costumes and called for his little brother. "Jari, look! Sinterklaas...lots and lots of Sinterklaas." I hushed Kaeden and gave him 'the look' and told him I would rather Jari not see all the costumes for sale. Kaeden looked at me strangely and then whispers "Oh yeah, that's because Sinterklaas is not real, huh mom? You put presents in our shoes, right mom?"

I can't bring myself to say he doesn't exist. In my mind, I know he is alive and well. I also worry that telling Kaeden the entire truth would ruin the magic for my little guy in his last moments of believing. I told Kaeden that just because Sinterklaas doesn't come and put gifts in your shoe, doesn't make him less real. What is real is the feeling he brings, the excitement in your heart. I am not sure that he understands completely, and in this way I am taking advantage of his autism. His desire to have Sinterklaas be real is strong, and in his mind he does exist. I'm not sure it is fair, but that's how it is. Here, in our home, he lives on.

Jari got a chocolate cigar in his shoe a couple days ago. Chocolate cigars are a typical treat for children to receive in Belgium. However, when he pulled it out of his shoe it was a bit wet and broke in half (from his shoes worn out in the wet and muddy fields the night before). "Mama, Amerigo (Sint's horse that carries him from house to house) licked on my candy!!! I didn't know he liked to eat chocolate too!" Jari was gleeful considering this horse ate his candy...and even though he had horse germs, he polished off his treat.

Sinterklaas is back...and I believe in the magic...

Problem Solving

2010-11-07T13:46:00.004+01:00

Last week the boys had fall break from school. As is typical, we set out on a Halloween mini-vacation in a bungalow park for the week. This year, Kaeden happily chose to be with us from Friday-Monday, and return to his home away from home Tuesday-Friday. It was a good compromise, one in which we could all live with. It gave us family time, but also a relaxed break apart in a different setting. It was ideal.

However, Friday afternoon we started for Belgium after our week away, where we were to pick Kaeden up at his home away from home at 4pm. The usual 2 hour trip turned into a 4 hour one due to the numerous traffic jams, and you can imagine my fretting when I realized we weren't going to make it in time to collect Kaeden. I tried calling the home, but there was no answer. I tried calling a friend to see if she could pick him up, no answer. Kaeden's cell phone is having some mystery issues (I may discuss this in a separate email, but something to do with using his phone to make emergency calls, as everything is an emergency when it isn't his way...so his service was disconnected) so I couldn't contact him via phone. But, I tried to send a text message and it got through and he used the house phone to return my call.

"Mama, where are you?" he asked me. I told him we were stuck in traffic and had been for awhile. That I wasn't able to make it home on time to pick him up (knowing his home closes at 4). And then, just as I was about to offer my idea of a solution, he came up with one of his own (mine!).

"Mama, should I take the public bus home?" he asked me. "Then we could just meet at home."

When I heard him offer this solution so many feelings flooded throgh me. He managed to come up with this on his own. He found a solution to a problem. He called me to convey his idea. He can use public transport on his own. He is becoming independent. He is making me so proud!

I told him to have his caregivers look up bus times, though both Kaeden and I were sure there was a 4:20 pm bus direct to home. I then asked him to call me back to let me know if it would work out for sure.

The phone rang 5 minutes later. "Yep, mama, there is a 4:20 bus so I'll be home before 5." This coming from MY son! It still amazes me.

I relayed to him that if we weren't home by the time he was, to just wait in the backyard or play basketball until we get there. I told him he could feed the animals if he wanted. I didn't realize we'd be stuck in yet another traffic jam. We were.

I texted Kaeden to let him know, but he couldn't respond (seems he can receive texts, but can't send or call) so I hoped he recieved my message. As we got closer to home a good HOUR later, I texted him again. (Almost there, kiddo! Can't wait to see you!)

As we turned the corner to our house, a whole hour later that the arrival of his bus, and 2 hours later than when we thought we'd be home, I saw my son a scooter in his hands, a huge smile on his face, on the street corner. My heart leaped into my throat. There he was, my beautiful boy...rather, young man...independent, successful young man.

I got out of the car and hugged him tight, for that 2 seconds he would let me, bretahing in the smell of this new side of my son...this thinking, problem-solving person in my midst. And I looked to the sky and said a little prayer of thanks.

Culture Shock and Homesickness

2010-10-22T20:54:00.003+02:00

When I moved to Europe it was like I was completing a piece of me. I moved here with my son to join the new man in my life and create a family. Everything about Holland captured my heart. I enjoyed the history, the culture, the language...riding a bike and learning to be a wife. It took me four or five months to really fall into a stage of homesickness and culture shock. And when I did, it didn't even hit me very hard. I missed my family in America, I become a more patriotic person to my home country, and I treasured those special packages from home with little goodies and treats I missed. But I was also enjoying my new life and fell easily into the role of stay at home om and wife, of a student in language classes.

When we moved to Belgium three years after my big move to Europe, the culture shock and homesickness and pity party began. I think moving to yet another country with another language, another culture within such a short time was just too much. The first year I lived in Belgium was the hardest since my move to Europe. I was overwhelmed by everything, fell into depression, and never left the house unless it was absolutely necessary. I felt miserable, and our situation with Kaeden had accelerated, adding to my discomfort. I called my mom nearly daily in sobs.

Then, after that first year, things started falling into place a bit more. Belgium has never quite given me that easy comfortable feeling of home like I had when moving to Holland. However, the country has grown on me, I have learned to understand the people, and all the little societal rules have fallen into a pattern in my brain. Belgium is home, though it has taken a lot of effort getting it to this point. I have created a few friendships, gotten involved in the village, as well as found a comfort level with the mothers of Jari's friends. Soccer has given me another common activity with members of our community. I know what the different foods are, I can use my bank cards, and have deciphered the medical and insurance systems in place. Yet, even now, I find myself being sucked into the confines of home, having to force myself to open up the windows and head out into the fresh air.

Lately, I have been going through a different kind of feeling, something I can almost describe as a second round of culture shock. This time, it doesn't pertain to the new country, language, and people, but in my relation to all the above mentioned. I am realizing that this is my life. It is no longer a novelty, no longer a new adventure. It is my life, and I sit smack in the middle of it. There is no escape, it isn't a temporary arrangement, and it isn't full of frills like it was when it was new. I have learned the system, I can speak the language, and I can live the life. But now, I am wondering why I made this choice. Why did I throw away a college education and a degree? A job I loved? Why did I give up the freedom of my own vehicle and hundreds of miles of space to drive or walk or camp or run, people-free? Why did I give up my closeness with my family? Why did I give up everything I have ever known and loved to take on this new life?

It has taken me ten years, and when things have finally fallen into 'place' I fall head-first into this new reality. The realization that life just isn't what you expect it to be. Choices you make plan the course of your life and future. I'm feeling resentful towards this life, my husband and my family, the people and language. Some days it feels like I just want to go home...but when I turn around and face the four walls surrounding me, I realize I am home. I chose this course of life. I didn't know at the time just how hard it would be. And never, in a million years, did I expect to be going through this 10 years further. But I am. And now I need to get over it, take in a breath of frsh air, and remind myself of all the reasons I first fell in love with Europe. That will be the first step in finding peace and comfort once again within myself.

Things

2010-10-06T17:01:00.003+02:00

I rode hard today. As I pumped my legs, trying to get to therapy on time (I was late) I felt my muscles working. I always love that feeling. Why can't I make it a part of my every day? I mean, I even like it. Why do I need to be motivated to do something I enjoy?
I had a friend call me a few days back and she put unhappiness into perspective. Using her grandmother as a role model (someone who has gracefully lived through many losses), she suggested I plaster a smile on my face until it feels like it belongs there. after I talked to her, the smile had already started to spread. I didn't want to talk to her. I didn't have the desire or energy to try to act ökay". But I didn't have to. She saw through me and pushed me to be a better me. It may take time for that plastered smile to be for real, but her talk did me good.
Speaking of smiling. I recognized something weird about myself a few days ago. I was sitting on the couch watching a movie. It was strange when I heard myself laugh out loud at something funny. I tried to stop myself mid-laughter. Since when did I allow laughter to be something forbidden?
Last night, Jari and I were watching Click. At one point, he suggested", "I know what that remote would be great for," said my little boy. "Every time Papa and Kaeden start fighting, we could just fast forward through the bad stuff." I told him he was onto something. I told him that was a great idea. My voice portrayed the correct emotion. But hearing him voice it made me want to cry. I asked him if he wanted to tell Papa his idea. He clearly did NOT desire that confrontation. I'm glad he feels like he can open up to me about things that bother him. I only wish I had a better solution than an imaginary remote control.
Soccer. It stinks. My little champ is on a team who don't work together, but actually fight against each other. The team is not a team. Each individual player works to score, but never making plays as a team. After the last game parents were discussing how "the littlest player is the only who gave it his all". The littlest player is my son, a year younger than all his teammates. He's also much wiser. And, he wants to move back to his old team, as this one is taking away his enjoyment of the game. It's not easy, but a condition of our allowing him to play in a higher league was that if it didn't work out, he could return to his old team. He wants to return, and though I'm not one to say ÿour wish is my command', in such a situation my son and his desire comes first. He doesn't deserve to be put into this situation when all he wnats to do is play and improve his game.
Kaeden has til October 17th to wear his cast, and then hopefully we're home free. If his toes are properly healed it will be a miracle. He jumps and runs and plays as if nothing is broken. I hope it all heals well and he can join in on all his activities...scouts, Judo, soccer...he has missed out on the beginning of the season and I hope he can mentally prepare for joining in.
Friday both my boys are free from school. Friday my husband, who has been working extremely hard and long hours, has taken a day off. I don't know what our plans are, if we'll have a fmaily day or a mama/son...papa/son day...but I am looking forward to breaking up the routine of life. Whatever we end up doing, it will be nice to have the change.
That's it for now...I'm sure there will be more tomorrow...I'm sure you can't wait!

Stress Of Autism

2010-10-03T00:23:00.002+02:00

Is it possible to describe the great amount of stress that autism places on a family? Each family member attributes a facet of that stress, and as a whole its sometimes impossible to cut even with the sharpest of knife. We are a family of autism. And though our outer cover is that of a perfect family, the stress hiding just under the surface is enough to blow away the force of the greatest hurricane. Sometimes it surfaces.

How can a marriage survive the stress of living with autism? How can each parent bring their ideas and beliefs to the table and allow those to mesh together into one coherent idea? Because as much as a marriage should be strong enough to survive anything, autism sometimes takes a bit bite and spits out the pieces along the way. Two people can be deeply in love, sharing a true commitment to each other and their family, and it is sometimes still not enough. Those moments of fighting for a sense of normalcy, for trying to make it through another bout of autism at its finest, is sometimes just too much. Love can conquer all, I was once told, and even believed. But now that I have lived both sides, love can remain and build and join and deepen, but it can't conquer the fight of autism, the stress of being a member of an autistic family. The mariage suffers. The relationship, still filled with love, loses strength, the fight too much for already weary people to continue the hard work involved. You try to show your interst, to awaken passion, to give of yourself as a partner in life, but all this was stripped away with the last bout of fighting against the stress of autism. What is left to prove your involvement in this marriage?

A sibling, unable to understand what this stress means, how it works against this familial bond. How do I contribute? How can I gain from this ádventure'? When will I be old enough to escape? Who can I trust? Where is my security? Why is everything always about autism? About working around his needs? What about my needs? I love him, but I also hate him. Autism is so confusing. And there he goes again, another fit of anger...more stress...mom and dad fighting...where can I hide? Or should I just act naughty to try to make the anger go away...make them focus on something else?

Autism carried through this individual. Too much happening, too much going on. I can't understand what they want from me. Why are they getting louder? What did I do wrong? Now I am angry...I can't cope. I scream, I hit, I curse. Now they are mad. I know they are mad. They are coming at me. It looks like a storm cloud, coming into my existence. I want it to go away. Maybe if I hit and kick it will go away. It hurts. I have autism. Only my own scream can block out the pain of theirs. They don't understand me. They don't get it. They can't help me.

A Family of Autism. A family of stress. No place to turn. No single escape.

Case Closed

2010-09-09T08:30:00.003+02:00

I read the email a second time, slowly taking it all in.
We regret to inform you that we don't think we can win your case, so we're closing the file.

It hit me like a wall of bricks. This is the second time they have closed my case, the second time they have decided they can't win. All I have left is to hire my own private lawyer, but that comes at a higher price...if they don't think they can win, why would another lawyer think s/he could? Why can't they win? I did nothing wrong, yet I remain handicapped for life. Is my handicap not enough evidence that something was faulty?

I had physical therapy and an appointment with the neurologist the same day. At physical therapy she told me my strength seems to have regressed. Was I in more pain than usual? Had I done something to tire my muscles out? At the neurologist I was given a final pain medication to try...two more months of medicating myself with all those side effects trying to make living be a pain free experience. Medicated. Not excatly my first choice, naturally, but I'll try it.

But, I was also given two other appointments. One with a revalidation specialist. Someone to help me learn to exist with my handicap. Someone with tools and tips and tricks for functioning as a handicapped individual. Secondly was with a pain management center. Here they take severe measures in helping you to live pain free. Such as, in my case, electro shock therapy to make my pain sensors unable to distinguish pain. My pain nerves will be completely blocked...no more pain...ever, for any reason...no more feeling whatsoever...is this really an option?

I can't say that I am feeling happy with everything that is happening with my hand. I'm not sure I want to try these new therapies, which sound quite permanent and what if I don't like what happens. I just don't know what to feel about it all. Happy to finally be given the option of 'something' that may help, but fearful about what the something is. My neurologist told me he believes I have reached the limit as what improvements I will see in my hand function. It has been a year since the accident...a year since my life was saved, but my hand was not. A year for it to improve...but also a full year...what more can I expect? We're moving onto pain management now, not functional improvement.

And as for the case, to help cover doctors bills and therapy and travel costs and psycologists and medical supplies and me BEING HANDICAPPED FOREVER AND EVER....that's in a constant state with a big red Case Closed stamp across the front page. And it makes me feel like I am unworthy of anything other then being this handicapped piece of a person, collecting bills and costs to further family financial crisis as I peel potatoes worrying about cutting off a finger and don't make stew knowing I can't cut the meat into chunks.

I know I should feel 'lucky', but right now I feel a flop of a mess.

Chicken and Dumpling Brain

2010-09-06T15:34:00.003+02:00

I'm feeling a little ADD. I have thoughts, words running through my head, I want to share, but can't. Nothing comes out in anything anyway anyone could understand. I am confused, confusing. I can't get any single thought to cooperate. I say too little in too much.

Chicken and dumplings for dinner. Yum! A whole day boiling that sucker...and tearing it apart...bones, skin, gristle...separate the meat..real meat. By the time I am done, my hands stink and I'm not sure I'll be able to eat a bite...all that ripping apart of that chicken. Cut up some carrots and onions, taste the broth...and the smell filling the house is simply delectable. Can I train my mind to steer clear of the cleaning of the bones? Oh how easy it could be to turn vegetarian. But yet, memories of the last chicken and dumplings make my mouth drip with longing.

How many quarters can make up $5. Seems like a lot, when every time Kaeden gets a quarter removed for unacceptable behavior. Today he left for school with $1,25. $3,75 used up in behavior fees over the course of the weekend. $3,75 worth of moments of anger and aggression of which turns me into a ball of nerves..not to mention the ball of fury papa becomes and the ball of energy Jari rolls into. 20 quarters. 20 chances given to be mean. 15 chances used up. 15 chances in which I have been given a headache, stomachache, and been filled up with worry, sadness, anger, and blame. Yet the $5 is working, on a small scale. 15 chances is better than the 40 we dealt with 3 weeks ago. We don't know what to do. We are at a point of uncertainty...were we ever not? His values have slipped since attending his home away from home. He no longer hears mama and papa's warnings about using those nasty words. He no longer hears us reiterating the proper place for sex. He is with peers, all of whom curse as it's cool, talk about sex cause that's what teenage boys do. But without home to bring it all together, put the priorities straight. Weekends sometimes feel like a little glimpse of hell. But the week no longer holds that tint of black and red. What is best? What do we do? 20 chances, $5 sometimes seems too little, when in reality it's $5, 20 chances too many.

Soccer...passion. The two words go hand in hand. Jari's club moved up a level, meaning we play teams much better than those we played last year. Besides moving up a level, Jari also moved up an age bracket. Put those two together, and we have what we can call a slight disaster. Not that it would have been better staying on with his own team, but our team is not a real team. We don't play together, we are like little individuals all making up this whole that's never a complete whole. I'm concerned that the passion could be removed from the soccer. Losing by 10+ points every game, getting not only beaten but slammed into the ground, and not working together as a real team could take my son's passion and crumble it. I'm not willing to let that happen. So, I am aware and watching, on top of things even as every game leaves me sitting in a pool of frustration. Passion and soccer belong together, hand in hand.

Latvia...a number of days away with my husband. A vacation in every sense of the word...no kids! What struck me was the poor living conditions, in a place filled with soviet influence. The big blocks of homes, people hanging from windows, clothing blowing on balconies. The land is fairly new it's own land, needs time to bring up their standards. In the meantime, people suffer, without knowing they suffer. The people seem happy, content, freedom finally theirs for the taking. Yet in their contentment and freedom, I am able to eat, drink, and be merry on a fraction of the cost I would normally have to pay. Erwin says my visit is bringing in tourism to them, bringing in cash. He is right, of course, but it feels so wrong that I have the chance, the money, the power to take a vacation when that little boy plays in the yard of a home nearly falling to pieces around him. Don't get me wrong, it was a wonderful experiences, so many sights to fall in love with, so much new I never imagined I'd have the opportunity to explore. And I do...I did. Vacation in Latvia...just me and him...perfection within reach.

I examine my friendships. Some people I call friends are not people I would actually consider friend material. They are just here, present, bringing with them the title of friend though they have no other qualities of friend other than physical presence. I get annoyed...with them, yes, but even more with myself. Why do I allow these relationships to continue? It isn't a sharing relationship...one of give and take. It's not like I am acting as a friend should. I wouldn't be my friend if reciprocated. I take, but I take because I have nothing to give. It's not a two way street, but one way with me in front and someone following, trying to catch up, yet never quite making it. I feel devious, a little smart, someone I would never like in real life. I'm not proud of myself, but find this easier than getting out of the relationship. It's beyond time to have a little talk. I'm not sure the talk can save the friendship...if there ever was one.

I read a book. It took me a very long time to read. Often, I dive into a book and don't put it down until I am done, submitting myself, letting it become my reality. I read a book. It took me months to complete, little bits at a time, a page here, a chapter there...never able to allow myself to dive into its reality...but it may have been because it is my reality, every day. Every time I picked up the book, I had to focus on my reality, my life. I was forced to not live as another character in another place and time, fantasizing, but think of my own situation which was often mirrored in the pages of the book. I plan to write more about this experience, when my words aren't so stifled, my mind so scattered. It was a wonderful book, a lovely story, and very true to autism and parenting an autistic child. The thoughts and feelings. Yet it didn't allow me to have those "Calgon, take me away" moments. It was a learning experience in the pages of a novel...fantasy and reality all wrapped up in one. Interesting! Thank you, Tanya.

I have more...much more...but the chicken and dumplings are bubbling just like the words in my head. Ready to spill over onto a clean surface and evaporate into a mess...this is it, this is life.

Ardennen

2010-08-17T17:17:00.008+02:00

Our summer family vacation came together in the form of a camping trip to the Belgian Ardennen. It's a beautiful, woodsy area, hilly, and a complete nature-lovers paradise...nature being the key word when we discuss our family adventure. Nature as in outdoors. Nature as in under the cloud-covered, misty, grey, dripping wet skies....for 90% of our vacation. Still, not being one to complain about travels, we had a really good time and lots of fun moments all together as a family. (Such as when Kaeden called the bunkbeds 'Double-Deckers') We didn't take the tents, knowing beforehand that the weather Gods were not with us, but rented a tiny little hut with nothing more than 4 beds to give us shelter from the storm. It did the job...

Share Some Of Our Summer Fun!

Vedauwoo

2010-08-09T13:40:00.002+02:00

I remember back to the morning of my wedding...actually, the days leading up to my wedding. So many visitors, so much to do...a house full of strangers to each other trying to all mix and mingle and come to know one another before the day they'd all land together in one place for a special event....my event, the day I had invited them to share a memorable and treasured moment...my wedding day.

I tried to keep my butterflies alive as they emerged from their cocoons. Beautful, but small, butterflies I had raised all on my own, to complete our ceremony with an Indian Prayer. I cried when I had to be pulled away from necessary jobs and attend my bridal shower, hosted by my aunt in a locl restaurant, inviting everyone she could gather together for the ocassion. I tried to be happy, but was annoyed, until I arrived at the restaurant and everyone was there, there for me...and I was happy.

I went to the beautician to have my hair done for the ceremony, and the bridal wreath of little flowers looked more like the death crown worn by God as he was nailed on the cross. Tears welled in my eyes but I emerged with little pieces of the crown all pieced together by the beautician in a simple little wreath I had so desired, with tiny baby's breath circling my head like a halo, curls rippling around my head.

I took off in my best friend's car to the wedding site, an outdoor location surrounded by natural rock formations, hoping everyone had and would arrive as expected. I had no idea who was ready or not, but knew only that I saw my groom waiting for me as I sneaked behind the rocks waiting for 12 oçlock noon...the time of our wedding ceremony.

The bridal music came on, much to my surprise and happiness. Someone had come through and found the wedding march. I think it was my cousin, though I still don't know for sure. But when the music played, my dad and my son walked me to meet my groom, passing wildflowers and big rocks with all of our guests sitting on the rocks in the sun...a picture-perfect day.

My singers, a good friend and my aunt, sang the songs we had chosen for our wedding. Daddy's Girl brought tears to my dad's eyes, and I saw many guests wiping away tears as Kaeden gave his mama's hand away in marriage. All along, Jari climbed in my arms begging for 'milka'. He was thirsty in the heat, as were numerous other guests.

We said our vows, me stopping to gain my composure as a crying jag came upon me. My almost husband rubbed my shoulder and waited for me to complete the words which would make us husband and wife. I looked out at all the people and felt blessed to be standing there, next to my husband, with all these people witnessing something so beautiful as our marriage.

The candles of our unity candle, held by our moms, lit. A true miracle n Windy Wyoming. We became a family united that day, August 9th, at Vedauwoo. The day I became my husband's wife, his life partner, his companion forever. The day our rings, those circles of union, were placed on each other's fingers, never ending.

It was 7 years ago that my marriage became a reality. It was 7 years ago my husband picked me. It was 7 years ago, I gave everything as a single woman away, and chose everything that comes with marriage. I chose to share, to give, to love.

I wouldn't have it any other way. I wouldn't have it with any other man. I made all the right choices on August 9th, 2003 at 12 oçlock at Vedauwoo. I became Mrs. I became his wife. I became Me.

Happy Anniversary to the Man of My Reality. Even better than the man of my dreams. XOXO

Health

2010-07-28T15:19:00.002+02:00

I stopped smoking. On June 30th, I sucked the last puff of nicotine filled air into my lungs. I made a commitment to try to be a healthier me. And I did it, yes I did. But it has been far from easy, and the pangs of longing still linger. Actually, I think when I returned home, back to my own house, my own schedule, my own space, the difficulty started again. But still, I haven't rolled a smoke or lit one up either. I've tried to steer clear of smoking to make it easier on myself. Not easy when I have a smoker for a husband. But this is my choice, not his, not other smokers, and I am the one who needs to be strong, the one who can be proud.

I quit smoking to become a healthier person. I hated waking up coughing, hated my kids asking me not to breathe by them cuz my breath stinks. I hated the brown colored fingers and the gums that were beginning to turn a darkish color inside my mouth. I hated the feeling of being addicted, needing a smoke before I could accomplish anything else in the morning; telling my kids I'd play a game "after I have a smoke". I never enjoyed being a smoker, as much as I needed to smoke. I tried to hide my habit from friends, and always played down my smoking schedule. It wasn't fun being a smoker hidden in the brain of a non-smoker.

So, I quit. I made a conscious decision to quit smoking, chose a date, and followed through. And now, for as long as I can be strong and value myself, I can call myself a non-smoker. I hope it's forever.

Now it's time to focus on my weight issues which lately have been screaming out of control. I desire a healthier me, but being overweight has been a health issue foremost in my life since I was just a kid. Stopping smoking has been good, but bad for my already existent weight issues. It is time to get a handle on this problem and really work at finding health. I am making a conscious decision to get control over my eating habits. I have tried numerous times in the past with various rates of success. I am ready to claim back my health.

Tight

2010-06-25T23:50:00.004+02:00

Terror in his eyes
Teeth bared and a sob escapes
His body shaking
As he reaches for me
Clasps to me
Tight

I can't think of anything
But to get him away
Away from the fear
To stop the sobs
The bared teeth
The fear in his eyes
As he clutches to me
Tight

Down the stairs
The screaming
Kicking
Yelling
Nasty words
Just a distant drum
As I scramble to get him away
Away from the fear
As he grips my shoulders
Tight

His eyes when I dare to glance
Tell me all I need to know
Leave, go away, away from the fear
Give him a promise
As I clasp him
Tight
Security

Broken objects mirror broken hearts
Broken souls
Broken defeated fearful sad
I set him in the car
And he begins again
Sobs, shaking, terror
And I pull him to my lap
Screaming
Kicking
Anger just a distant background drum
Holding him against me
Tight

I promise him it will be okay
As his hand clutches mine in his
Tight
Tears still falling, silently
As I point out the big, round moon in the sky

I see the moon and the moon sees me
God bless the moon and God bless me
We chant together, fearful, unsure
His hand still wrapped in mine
Tight

No, don't go home yet, he begs
And I drive on, worried, fearful, scared, upset
But remembering the terror and unable
To place him in that moment yet again
Fear in his eyes
Trembling as he clasps onto me
Tight

I carry him inside
No more screaming
kicking
hitting
nasty words
Still afraid, clutching to me
Just take me to my bed
And I do, holding him
Tight

And the moon, round and big
And bright in the sky
Isn't peaceful, but looks
instead
like a great
emptiness
Tight
in my chest

As his sleep is filled
with jerks and sighs
I hold him, tears silently falling
On his cheek
As I kiss him
Holding him
Tight

A Soccer Dream

2010-06-18T08:50:00.003+02:00

Parents are forced to make a lot of tough decisions. Decisions that play a part in who our child is, who he will become. Our decisions form our child's future. And some decisions we make, we just don't know what is right. We can only listen to our child, take our experience, and hope we do what is right. At this time, I am facing such a decision. It's one that has me filled with pride, but also uncertainty as to what is right.

Last night, one of the board members of Jari's soccer club dropped by to speak with us. Jari is currently on a team for kids under 9, and next year will move up to the under 10 team. He is one of 2 kids on the team who plays really well, and proved himself again and again this past year in technique, speed, and scoring. He is the best in his class (I say that with pride).

He has always been extremely shy, and with that shyness there's a tiny piece of him that holds back. Towards the end of the season, we noticed that our son was becoming more aggressive (in a good, sport way) and becoming more self-assured in his abilities. He didn't let a bigger player get in his way, but fought to get a ball or used tricks to make a play. He is a fun player to watch, and we were extremely proud of him for conquering his fear and going for it. It only made him better.

So, last night we get the visit. They asked us if we would be willing to allow Jari to skip the under 10 group and move into the under 11 team. That means he would be skipping an entire age bracket, and seeing that he is the youngest on his team (August birthday) and also the smallest for his age, he could be competing against kids 2 years his senior. The soccer club feels Jari is ready to advance, and doesn't want to hold him back by placing him in the under 10 team. They feel that physically he has enough strength to move up, and his talent for soccer is strong enough that he would still be successful.

As this question was posed, a great searing pride swept through me. I couldn't help but let a smile brighten my face. I knew my son was a good player, but this means others also see his talent for the game. As my smile beamed, something else starting forming in my mind. Technically he may be ready, but how about emotionally, mentally, and physically? Would he be able to handle playing with kids so much larger than him, with more experience, and on a team without any of his current teammates or classmates? Would his self-assuredness that he's been working so hard to achieve become oppressed? Would he be able to understand that being on a team a year further would probably mean he will no longer be the little star of the team, that he may not be the high scorer, that he may have difficulty stealing a ball? And if a kid 2 years his senior happens to kick him, will his body physically be able to handle the pain of someone larger and stronger? Does he need the experience of another year before moving into the big leagues?

This morning I spoke with my physical therapist and asked her what the pros and cons were physically. She said her biggest concern would be the fact that soccer players muscles become shorter from working out, and when going through a growth spurt could cause a lot of pain, as well as need for therapy to help lengthen them. Being that he would be working his body harder than the other players to physically keep up could cause him to stress his body parts, but that soccer is a good form of fitness and would also keep him in shape. So, her suggestion was to watch closely and make sure his body could physically handle it so he wouldn't end up hurt and unable to play at all.

After the soccer guy left, Jari had lots of questions. I saw a smile start to form in his eyes and work it's way to his lips. He looked at us and when I asked him if he knew what this all meant he clearly stated: I'm a good player so I can play with the big kids. The smile still plastered across his face. The rest of the night last night, he spoke of nothing else. He named all the kids on the under 11 team, he told us of each of their strengths and weaknesses, he talked about the coach. And when I tucked him in, I told him how very proud I am of him, my little soccer star. And when I asked if he wanted to move up, his response was an overwhelming "YES! if you and papa will please let me!" There was still a smile on his face as his head nestled into the pillow and I told him we would talk about it.

So, my son's dream is to become a soccer player. It's the dream of so many little boys, to be a professional sportsman. However, my son has a talent to back that dream. But what is best for him? What choice can I make to help him further that dream? What is mentally, physically, and emotionally best? This is another of those tough parenting decisions.

But I still have a smile plastered on my face too. His dream is my dream, and there's a chance that it will come true!

A New Idea

2010-06-16T10:29:00.003+02:00

Yesterday found me at another appointment at Kaeden's school. Seven people sitting around the table with notebooks in front of them, folders stacked next to them, pens in hand ready to add to the already huge stacks of papework filled with information about my son. My son. Not some kid down the street, not just stacks of notes and tests and papers, but my son.

Sitting there in that meeting, I realized how far I have come as the mother of my child. I have become harder, more opinionated, stronger. As his mother, I know what I feel is best for him, for me, for our family. Maybe my views aren't always correct, but they are views made out of need, out of love, out of doing the best I know how to do for my child. Always, his life and his future is placed open up in my palm, and I carefully close my fist around it, hoping and praying that I hold onto it tight, strongly, never let it fall.

I spoke loudly and clearly, expressing my worries and concerns. I gave my opinion and held strong onto my viewpoint, even as others struck down my ideas. They may be the experts in the field, but I am the expert on my son. His happiness and his success is determined by how far I push, how far I step out of my comfort zone. He hasn't gotten as far as he has without the strength and integrity I give as his mother. I have been a force behind the success he has achieved. I am the oil that helps his engine run. I need to be thick and dark and greasy.

I listen to what they say, and I accept it all into my mind wholly. And then I form my own opinions based on their advice and expertise. And I add in my own thoughts and experiences and knowledge about my son to form an opinion and a goal. And I push to see this goal met. And sometimes I agree to try something out, give it a chance, in an attempt to further my son's achievements, even if I don't know that it ill be successful, but always willing to try something new. To give ideas a chance, if I feel it has any chance. He deserves all of our ideas and input and trials to find that one thing that works, the one thing that will help him be the best he can be.

Next school year, Kaeden is one of just 5 students who will be entering a new program. A program formed and created specifically for him, and 4 other young men just like him. Kids who have diffculties fitting into the school norms, difficulty learning when contacts prevent them from concentrating. This new program is brand new, based upon a successful program offered in another school, and my son is a guinea pig in the trial. It scares me, but excites me. I offered my ideas, I disqualified some of their input, and I gave them permission to allow my son to be part of this. I think Kaeden will be happy with our choices and decisions. I hope he will be able to prove his success and achievements given freedom within the program. And I think he won't mind being part of this new world opening up to him, a new program designed for him and hopefully working itself out to help hundreds of autistic kids in the future. I hope this decision will be one that helps him to shine...

Kaeden will be the first student to be part of this trial. I'm glad he loves guinea pigs.

Medical Issues

2010-06-10T09:09:00.003+02:00

I got an email from Kaeden's home away from home yesterday. I had requested that they start giving him his allergy pills as he was all stuffed up and miserable throughout the weekend, and his pills did manage to offer him some relief. The email was simple, asking if he took pills or drops, but it hit me very hard.

See, my kid, from the time he entered this world, has had numerous medical issues. I'm not sure I understand, sometimes, why one individual is faced with so many challenges. When Kaeden was born he had trouble breathing, very shortly, but needed to be in an incubator none-the-less. When he was about 6 months old, he suffered his first bout of RSV. When he was 9 months old he experienced a seizure with fever which left him hospitalized for nearly a week. And thereafter, my little guy was coontinually in a battle with one ailment or another, his asthma and RSV serious issues which left us hospitalized for months every year. On one of these visits, my little baby actually had to be resuscitated to live.

The doctors offices were our second home, the medications they prescribed keeping him alive with worries about what the side effects could mean in the future. See, he wasn't just on a series of steroids, but series after series, well beyond the indicative amount. But, he was staying alive, taking his breathing treatments and nose cleans 4 times daily like the little trooper that he is. And then, suddenly, he started having major issues with his teeth, where surgery was required to fix them. Was this one of the side effects they couldn't predict from the use of medications? And his skin, so tender and itchy and covered in scales, exzema, was this another side effect? Or was my kid just one of the unlucky ones?

He had to have tubes in his ears from his numerous ear infections, he was one of the kids that actually got a bout of chicken pox from the vacciation, complete with fever and his little body full of dots. He was the kid you would see with tubes covering his little face as he walked, an oxygen tak dragging behind him, a requirement in order for him to breathe. And then, around the tender age of three, having withstood so much already, began his little, mini moments of behavior problems, first signaling to me that there was something deeper wrong with my son.

I had his hearing tested, I took him to a developmental center to see if he was on schedule developmentally. He was kicked out of day cares, and as a single working mom in school, I was the only one there to shoulder these burdens. My parents helped as much as they could, which was a lot, but they didn't live right next door. It was just me and my son.

As Kaeden's behavior issues got more serious, and he was shuffled from school to school, therapy to therapy,we were finally given a diagnosis of ADHD. He started taking ritalin, which helped, but not fully. Give or take another year of issues, and he was diagnosed with Autism. Give or take a few years, add allergies to the mix. Give or take a few years, add Oppositional Defiance Disorder, but not becuase they're convinced he has it, completely, but because it will allow him to have more services...so, I signed the papers...what's one more diagnosis in the life of this child's full account of diagnosis?

Recently, during a sportday at school, Kaeden was having trouble breathing. When I was told, I went into panic mode. I haven't witnessed him having issues with his asthma for 9 years now. The fear that settled in me struck me to the core. Nobody else can possibly understand this fear as I relived all those days in hospitals with my son hooked up to tubes and living in breathing tents. I'm still watching him very closely.

My son, asthma, allergies, ADHD, autism...all the A's. Add in a few more figures and it just seems like this boy of mine has been fighting from the start of his life. And a fighter he is...add another A for aggression. But is it any wonder? Look what this child has been subjected to in his short 15 years here on earth. Could any of us be where he is having withstood so many issues throuhout his short life?

When I give my son his medication, 6 pills in the morning, 4 at lunch, 4 at night, it alwyas pains me. As much as I know that it helps him to function, I'm still, after all these years having to pump him full of medication to help him survive. Just when does a kid get a break? And why, dear God, is one kid the focus of so many ailments? Because as strong as he is, some days it just takes one little email asking which kind of medicine, to send his mom off the deep end. Some days it just aches.

This Is Life

2010-06-07T22:30:00.003+02:00

The clothes are all folded, pulled from the washline outside as the sun dried them throughout the afternoon, but not yet put away in closets where they're supposed to be. The fish tank is cleaned, looking rather fresh after the green that had slowly developed over the past month. The guinea pigs are munching on green beans, their cage filled with hay, their water bottle fresh and cool. The dishes are all washed, but not towel dried, and the stove is free of dinner grease and the table free of food spills. Erwin is snuggling in bed as Jari flutters off to dreamland, after a day of school and then playing with a friend. Kaeden gave me his goodbye kiss this morning as the bus hauled him away to his home away from home for the week, his bag full of prized possessions draped over his shoulder. The walls are all painted, fresh and clean, and I gaze at them again and again, a satisfaction overcoming me in the cleanliness. Emails have been sent to wish Happy Birthdays to friends, another to the doctor asking for prescriptions. My agenda faces me on the desk, knitting out my week ahead.

This is life. Just these little tasks and chores and the everyday stuff that comes with living. Watering my flowers and feeling the excitement as they grow. Sweeping off the deck outside knowing the rain will come tonight and wash the remains away. Turning on the kettle to boil water for a cup of tea. Lighting a scented candle and watching the flame make shadows on the wall, fresh and oatmeal white.

It's the little things. Life is not a flaming ball of perfection. It isn't as much fun as opening a prettily wrapped surprise. It's not like two magnets attaching with a force that can't be parted. It's not like opening the mailbox and finding not only bills and ads, but also a hand-written letter saying hello. Or opening the inbox to find a quick note from a friend. It's not like walking into my home after a busy day of chores to hear the phone ringing and my mom's voice on the end of the line, and even though I really had no desire to talk to anyone, it's a feeling of comfort and acceptance.

So, though life may not always be wonderful, may not always be filled with happy surprises, it is life, and it is comfortable. I play games with my children, snuggle next to my husband, laugh with my friends, do what needs to be done...life is life...and mine is quite okay.

Cell Phones And Autism

2010-05-21T19:20:00.004+02:00

I never had a cell phone until December. Even after I got it, I never used it much. Actually, I still don't. However, I do try to remember to bring it with me when I go, and actually get calls and messages on my phone. The majority of them come from Kaeden, who loves his phone and has had it since his 13th birthday.

Kaeden and his phone never part. I'm not sure why he likes it so much, but it's his and it's obvious he is in love. Sometimes it gets annoying as he changes tones and we have to listen to it all for hours on end, but the majority of the time it's just with him and he's happy.

One thing I have noticed is that when Kaeden starts to get angry, he texts me. Tells me he is mad, or is going to be mad, or hates the blankety blank blank teacher. I'm not sure if it helps to calm him by texting, but I have this hunch that maybe it does. When we are home, sometimes he lets me know via text that Jari is bugging him. When I get that message I know to put a stop to it immediately. There have also been times when I have sent him to his room and sent him a text message to tell him he may come out when he is calm. He messages me back that he will come when he is calm. We don't have to have conversation which often leads to more angry words. So, texting seems to have its perks, especially for my son who has issues with anger and aggression. It seems to sincerely calm him, give him space, yet a means of communicating, without spoken words which are difficult for kids with autism.

Further, texting has helped him in his spelling skills. Often I receive a text from him and am amazed that he could write it properly. He doesn't use all the codes that I have seen other kids use, but writes exactly what he wants me to know. Such as this afternoon, when he was on his way home from school, he texted me: Mama, I am coming home now. XOXO Kaeden Or after he got on the bus to head to Judo, he messaged me: Mama, I have to take a different route to Judo. There is a market in the town center.

Maybe it gives him security knowing I am always available, such as in the above situation which can be stressful.

When I reply I keep it short and sweet, but always try to respond. It feels like some special connection with him that I don't have with him in spoken language. I am discovering that his having and using his cell phone is his key to communication, especially under stressful circumstances.

I don't know if any of you other parents of autistic kids have had the same experiences with a cell phone as I have, but for us, it seems to be a positive bit of technology in the autism world. Maybe it's worth giving it a try?

Home

2010-05-19T10:11:00.002+02:00

It seems like there is so much happening in life now that spring has sprung. The kids have tons of end of year activities, there are more events happening that we enjoy as a family, and the energy is alive as the flowers start to bloom and the veggies grow a bit higher each day. Hopefully, soon, the sunshine and warmth will also decide to spring.

Last weekend was a holiday weekend here. Erwin and the boys had off Thursday and Friday, and we decided to do some remodeling to our home, which took us the entire weekend to complete (well, complete? it's still not complete, but it's getting there...) And we are all happy with the changes, giving us a bit more breathing space and less junk filling every nook and cranny in our home.

The boys were set off on their own as we worked. I asked for them to do a few chores when they complained of being bored, but in general they were given free reign to do as they pleased while Erwin and I worked. They had time to play in the yard, soccer, computer, playstation, board games, toys all at their fingertips. And both of them thoroughly enjoyed just being home, having noplace to be, no time restrictions, no schedule.

As a family, our weekends are usually filled to overflowing with activity. We have soccer and Judo and shopping and a visit to oma and opa...we have an event or two thrown in here or there, a day to the playground (which we did do as a family on Sunday after "neglecting" the kids for a few2 days) or something that sound slike fun, such as visits to a museum or castle or the woods. Some days it feels as if we are gone from morning to night, making it home just in time to tuck the kids into bed so we can start it all again the next day.

And I (we) sincerely enjoy it, all the activities we do as a family. However, it was so nice to have no place to be, nothing pressing to do, able to just do what we needed to do and do it all at home. And what was interesting to me, was how the kids reacted to it. Both of them were in seventh heaven and commented time and again how much fun it was to just stay home. Even without our full attention, they were perfectly content finding things at home to keep them entertained. They didn't need to be out and about to stay busy. They didn't need tickets to this or that or a packed lunch or to put on their seatbelts. They were free.

We do lots as a family to keep us busy, having new experiences, learning, seeing new things. We all enjoy days out doing things together, whether it be a walk in the woods or a day at an amusement park. We tend to get along better when we're out of the house (once we're gone...the getting to and from a place is always an issue, esp as Kaeden adjusts to something new taking place...but we've all learned to deal with this and expect it). However, what I learned this weekend is that maybe we try to do too much. Maybe what we see as a relaxing day out, away from home, is not quite as relaxing to our kids as we perceive it to be. Maybe we need to try to just stay home more often, enjoying our home and our family in the place we've set our roots. We can still go out and enjoy all these other trips and experiences, but in smaller doses. Maybe our boys need home to be a place they can have fun too, not just fun away from home.

I think in the world today, kids are forced to grow up too fast, have too many activities to attend, too many pressures. And though I sincerely believe that Erwin and I balance our kids lives well, keeping them busy but not overwhelmed, maybe we need to consider balancing our family time home and away from home a bit more equally. This past weekend showed me that home is a place to enjoy life as much as it is a place to sit down, eat, sleep, and live.

The Saga of Kaeden

2010-05-07T10:53:00.003+02:00

Yesterday arrived in an untypical manner with the morning starting with an appointment regarding our son. It was a therapeutisch project appointment, which means it involves all the agencies working with or previously working with our son. Lots of people, time, and energy trying to assist Kaeden in getting on and staying on the right track in life. Though I try not to, every time I attend one of these meetings I look around the table and am in disbelief at how much money my son costs the goverment and tax payers. And thankful that it doesn't all come as out of pocket expenses. And grateful that so many people are working for my son, to assure him a successful life, now and in the future.

Though many different areas of Kaeden's upbringing were discussed, the one that remains most hopeful and happy and joyous for me is the positive feeling surrounded by his living at school, in his home away from home. Yet again, we were treated to a very uplifting report about how well he does in the home, how he has friends and does his chores and never causes an uproar. How they get through the rough spots with him through humor, and how Kaeden has such a great sense of sarcastic humor. And though I don't need a report to tell me this, as I see it in his eyes or hear it in the excitement of his voice as he tells me a story, it's so nice to hear after years and years of always living with negativity, that my son is doing great! This fact lays a rainbow-colored layer over his less positive areas, like opening up a special prize and being rewarded with the one thing you have always wanted but never imagined you could have. I am truly just thrilled!

At school and at home, the verdict remains similar. Kaeden does well about 80% of the time but the 20% when things go wrong, it's something so big and bad that it throws a black cloud over the other 80%. His meltdowns remain filled with a frenzy of aggression and violence which put fear into those around him. Fear is not something easily forgotten, trust never earned completely back.

More news which was delivered during this appointment was a new school program they are working on implementing. This has me both excited and worried. It is a program not through the school, but through the group home, in compliance with school laws. It will be small groups of kids with issues exactly such as Kaeden (most importantly being unable to function with other people "getting in his way" causing him to rage out), supported by a full time teacher as well as additional staff. The classroom will be housed in a separate building from the home and the school, and the kids will have their designated work to complete, but with an allowance for them to complete it on their own terms, regarding time, place, etc.

Since Kaeden has been diagnosed with autism, it has been branded into me that this is a child who needs structure. That he can't function without a set schedule. That he craves a set forth plan. And now, in ten minutes, I am told that he is a first-choice candidate for a new school in which structure, planning, and scheduling is of the least importnace. It threw me for a loop. Kaeden needs assistance to accomplish what needs to be done. He can't even brush his teeth without having someone standby to make sure it gets done. Yet, they are going to give him the freedom to plan his own day, get through all of his lessons? That he is going to be responsible for managing his time on his own? Granted, his assistants will be there to help him, but this goes against everything I have been taught since learning about autism.

However, it excites me. My son, one of the laziest people I know (probably due to his inability to figure out how best to manage his time...too many outside factors which impact him), may have the chance to learn to manage his day and his time and his classes on his own! He may be able to figure out that if he first does his work, he will have the freedom to watch a movie. That if he completes his chores first, he can play a game of soccer when he wants, instead of only after school. That he knows what needs to be done, has the resources to ask for help if needed, and yet can do it all on his own. A completely functioning individual.

I have many more questions about this school and it's policies. I have questions about what coursework Kaeden will be allowing to partake in (woodworking is one of his faves, will he be forced to give that up?), and what will happen if he doesn't succeed in managing it himself. In addition, the school is still in the planning stages and they aren't even sure of all the logistics of it yet. But it sounds interesting. My son may be a guinea pig for this project. Am I willing to let him be?

So, that was a bit of news on the Kaeden front. I have to say, though I shivered and shook throughout the meeting (these things always have me a complete ball of nerves), I walked away feeling really positive and good about how things are going for my son. Though clouds covered the sky, it felt as if the sun were shining as I left the building. WE still have a long stretch ahead of us to assist Kaeden in becoming an independent, full-functioning adult. But it sorta, just kinda feels as if maybe, just maybe, we might be on the right track. Do I dare breathe a sigh of relief?

Not yet. But it does give me renewed hope.

A Moment of Awe

2010-05-04T22:08:00.007+02:00

This weekend we went to the races. It's a drive a bit more than an hour to another world, still in Belgium. Spa. You may have heard of it? French-speaking, in the hilly region from where fresh water comes. Anyway, back to the races. We went to the races.

I have written about the races before. I love the Spa track as you can walk for ages and seem to never find the end, curving through forests, going down another hill, then climbing back up for another view of more trees set against another hill. And in between you see glimpses of the track. In some places you can even see the cars race by and then catch a glimpse of them 20 seconds later way off in the distance on another hill. Or, even better, you hear the cars. Their scream as they zip by you, barely allowing you to focus on their color as they go past in a foggy blur, the sound of their power pulsing through you. It definitely pulses, you can feel the blast of those cars engines in your heart, in your ears...and I absolutely love it!

It sort of feels like my own personal high. Like my drug of choice. I don't need it all the time to get by in life, but in those moments I am afforded it, I am in bliss. I sincerely am in awe of the cars, their engines and design. The tires so smooth and black. The way they speed across the track. Watching the mechanics and technicians working at an unbelievable pace to get a car back on that pathway to winning. It really is an amazing experience. (Unlike Nascar which did not even slightly light my fire).

After the races, we set the GPS to home, but took the short route through the hills and over the river, through little villages and past the blooming fruit trees. It was a pretty drive, a bit foggy, a few showers, but all looking so unlike home, which is an adventure in itself. As we drove down one road towards our destination, I took a picture and then realized what I was photographing. A sign with 4 stars naming the Henri-Chapelle American cemetery.

I have been to numerous American cemeteries in Belgium and the Netherlands. Each time I go, I am filled with disbelief and a sense of stillness. We stopped the car and though visiting hours for the reception were closed we could enter the cemetery itself through an open gate. We did.

The blue skies opened up and I was again in disbelief. Covering the cleanly manicured lawn of grass were thousands of marble crosses, creating a pattern over the vast ground. In the middle was an angel hanging in the blue sky, welcoming you to this valued place. This place where thousands (7,989) of American soldiers were buried after dying in a war. After a first glance, my throat closed and the stillness of the air surrounding me became my focus. My eyes misted over as I realized that this place in which I stood was more than just a memorial. This place housed the stories of all these men who were never able to return home in the welcome arms of loved ones. This place brought countries together in a world torn apart. This place showed courage and rage and forgiveness and insanity. It showed how much America was a place to be looked up to, the power with which to be reasoned, offering men, American men, to help achieve a victory and bring the world back to a sense of calm.

As I watched my two boys run down the rows of crosses, with a few Jewish stars changing the perfection of line across the grass, I felt a great sense of patriotism. It was these men who fought in a war to allow my children the freedom to run through grass, now on European soil. It was these men who gave their lives to allow my children to feel safe, for their needs to be fulfilled, as well as their wants. As I watched my children run across the grass, I knew that at this moment in time, they had no idea what they were running amongst. They will one day, hopefully, as they take their own children to such a place, a graveyard, a cemetery, and tell them to please be quiet as this is a place to honor great men who fought in a war. Men who gave their lives, for any number of reasons and most probably without realizigin what the outcome would be, but still courageous and giving heroes...and me in a moment of awe and disbelief and amazement...of which those race cars in Spa stand not even a second close.

Caution!

2010-04-29T12:20:00.002+02:00

I recognized something yesterday that I didn't really consider before. Jari is a very cautious kid. Yesterday he had a friend come to play and we went to the playground where they could also ride their bikes up, down, all around. Another classmate joined them on the playground with her little brother, and the four of them started tearing up the playground and surrounding area. By tearing up, I don't mean demolishing, but rather just getting busy having a good time.

The girl climbed on top of the swingset, making her way across the high pole. Jari's friend joined her, and even little brother tried unsuccessfully to do so, being too small. The whole time I tried to keep my mouth closed about it being dangerous and to get down, but I refrained. Jari didn't follow suit. Instead, he slid down the slide and started digging in the sand.

Later, the kids were chasing each other around on their bikes. Jari's friend came and asked if he could go on the hills, which were housed between a very small pond and the stream, which was not deep. I told him he could, and he happily set off riding along the ditches, up and down the hills, through the edge of the pond. Jari stayed on the pathways, riding along the edge of all the action, his helmet covering his little head.

As the races started, and they started playing a form of Simon Sez, I was wondering how Jari would react. In the beginning, he was very cautious about it, riding with precision following his friends, but more on a gentle slope than right down the middle. Eventually, as he started feeling more brave, he ventured after his friends down the middle of the hill, onto the edges of the ditches, and around the pond. When it was his turn to choose, he still followed the pathways in the distance.

As the kdis went back to the playground and started jumping from the steps, seeing who could jump the furthest, Jari once again turned away from the game, settling instead on the swings. As the other kids jumped first from the lower steps, and then higher and higher, I was wondering what he was thinking and feeling. Wondering if he recognized his fears. Wondering if he was disappointed he didn't feel safe enough to join in.

As I tucked him into bed last night, I carefully posed the question. "So, did you have fun with your friends today?" I asked. "Yes, but mama, I didn't wanna go riding on that ditch. What if my bike tire went too far and I fell in?" he asked. I responded by telling him that if he had fallen in it was very shallow and he'd be okay, but that if he didn't feel comfortable doing it, that was okay too. He went on to discuss every of the above mentioned dare-devil feats, telling me why each was dangerous and why he didn't want to do it. "I could fall and break my ankle and then I couldnm't play soccer. I could crash, and I have a helmet so I would be okay, but they don't have a helmet so they could be dead. (Even though he always begrudgingly puts on his helmet, he still does it, under mama's watchful eye...and he's only one of the handful of kids who do wear one, unfortunately) And I just like to ride around and not do that crazy stuff, he continued.

Hmmm, I wonder where that comes from? Does it stem from me always saying Be Careful, and him always being under my watchful eye (I am more present in his play than the majority of the other parents), or is it a personality trait? Or maybe a combination?

In any case, though I hope he doesn't feel like the odd man out when playing with his friends, I am glad he has the sense to be cautious. Being a daredevil has it's time and place, but knowing he is cautious and seeing him choose his own road was a good sign for me. He doesn't have to be a follower, but can lead on the easy pathways life's road will take him.

A Medicated World

2010-04-27T09:43:00.003+02:00

I am feeling old. It seems like the past year I have aged more than in any previous period of my life. I no longer feel like a spring chicken ready to go out and play, but more like an old hen pecking away trying to just get through the day.

This new medication I am taking to relieve the nerve pain I have in my hand and arm is working. The discomfort has subsided some, though not completely, but I am hesitant to say that it is working, as the side effects of this medication are numerous. If the nerve damage remains but the discomfort is relieved, BUT I easily sleep 16 hours/day (not an exaggeration), I fall into doors and walls because I have no balance, I can't focus because everything is fuzzy, and I have a near always stomachache, is the medication then working? Thse are the side effects of a medication to help relieve nerve damage.

I feel like I am in a never-ending spiral of health issues. I now need to return to physical therapy 3 days/week (that's nearly a part-time job in itself, by the time I get there, do therapy, and get home), take pills twice a day, and deal with the side effects knowing that it's not actually a cure for my hand, but a lifelong sentence to just control the discomfort that arises from nerve damage. I don't want a control, I want a cure. It feels unfair. I just want to be able to use my hand without pain. But that's too much to ask. A stupid sink and God's mysterious plan took that luxury away from me.

I am whining, yes. I have that right, as this medication I am on also has that side-effect. Being cranky and irritable and blowing up at those around you for no reason at all. Just ask my family members how much fun I am to be around. One day I can't sit still and get a single thing done as I flitter around trying to concentrate and then sit down and my eyes immediately close to block out the fuzz, but then my head falls as I head to slumberland. And the next day, having used so much energy the day before, I can't even get up or I fall over from a dizzy spell, if I can manage to wake up enough to get up at all.

It's no fun. And though I am going to hang on and finish this out for the five weeks until my next doctor visit, I cannot see this as being an option for the remainder of my life. It is doing it's job half-heartedly in controlling the nerve pain, but my life has become a misery. Nope, not for me. Onto the next option, whatever that may be. Or else I'll just live with it (it being the discomfort and pain), because I certainly can't live with it (it being the pain medication).

This accident and the handicap that has been left behind, my so-called hand and arm, have absolutely aged me this past year. I may be nearing the big 4-0, but lately it feels more like the 6-0. I can whine and cry and throw a fit, because this is my life, this is it. And it feels like a big huge lump of a disappointment. Life isn't so much fun.

Taking this medication and having a handicap has also opened my eyes to how Kaeden must feel. I wonder how his medication affects him. Does it cause him to feel dizzy, to feel off kilter, to have a fuzz filtering out the world? Does he hate it when people ask about his autism, or bring up the fact he has autism? Does he just wish it would all go away and he could just be? I have always wondered how he feels, as he isn't all that open to discussion about such things (he is unable to vocalize these kinds of issues). Being able to see life through a handicapped, drug-induced haze, I can only hope his life looks mosr positive than mine. I may be whining, but really, this is just NO FUN!

The Garden and Neighbors

2010-04-23T16:04:00.004+02:00

My stomach is tied in knots. Today has been a stressful day for me. Earlier in the week I spoke to our neighbors about our plans to take over our yard. Yes, we have a yard which is twice as big as the one we now enjoy, we pay our taxes for that yard, yet we are unable to use it. Why? Because 20 years ago a shed was illegally constructed on the border of our land, and because of the way the houses have been separated and land issues evolved, we are required to give a 3 meter thoroughfare to our neighbors. As is the neighbor on our left, which she has done by creating a driveway. We give our three meters, but at this moment it is through the very center of our land, and I am hoping to change that to create it on the back side of our land, and give us use of our land to build a larger garden area for us to use.

So, this morning, after speaking with the neighbors who have the illegal shed earlier in the week about the circumstances, I went to discuss this issue with the local policeman. He is a policeman assigned to our village for all village issues, and I have come to know him through my crossguard duties. So, I went to him asking for advice. After showing him our land boundaries, he agreed that we had the right to recreate our yard, and went to discuss the issue with the neighbors. When he came back to my house to tell me what was said, he told me "I'm taking off my police hat and speaking to you person to person. The best way to solve the issue is to talk about it. The neighbors understand that their shed is illegal and needs to be torn down, but their oil tanks (used for heating) are housed in the shed. If you could all work out a solution so they don't have to move the oil tanks, it would be best." He then put his hat back on and told me the steps I would have to take to legally have the shed removed. It is a huge ordeal and can cost a lot of money, but I am hoping we can resolve it just between the parites involved, and I am willing to give a bit extra of my space in order to let their oil tanks stand.

So, after the poilce officer left, I was feeling quite pleased that it could all work out satisfactory for all of us. Fast forward a few hours...the neighbors (both the man and wife, earlier only the wife was home) greet me in the yard where I am working and ask to discuss the situation with me. They are Turkish and the husband doesn't speak perfect Dutch, but seems to understand it, while the wife speaks fluently. He is less willing to tear down the illegal shed. He thinks that if we take over the land on our left and leave the back as it is, everyone should be happy. He tells me how he also gives to allow our other neighbor space to drive through his land, as well as walk to his back door via his land. He keeps walking along my land borders showing me how I can rebuild my land to create room to get through without him having to remove his shed.

He is correct in that there is room, but my question is: Why should I pay taxes for my land and allow everyone else to use it, but have no use of it myself? I want to have a larger yard. I want more space to create a larger area to grow veggies. I want more room for my boys to place a swimming pool in the summer. I want to look out while I sit on my patio and not have to look into the clothes on the clothesline. It is, afterall, my land. Why shouldn't I have use of it?

So, I told the neighbors after much discussion that I may be willing to give a bit of space, but that the shed needs to come down. I told them that we could do it the easy way and come to an agreement, or we could make it difficult and let a judge decide. They want to erect a new garden shed, plus have the space for their oil tanks. But they want a large garden shed. Not just a small one which I could be willing to allow. They also kept speaking back and forth in Turkish, which I wasn't pleased about. I think they should keep it in Dutch so I know what is being said as well. She didn't translate all that he said as she agreed with him. He also claimed that if we make problems for them in placing a shed, they will make issues for our immediate neighbor and not give him thoroughway on their land. Why is this an issue? His recently renovated garage sits on their property line. In order to reach his garage, he must have throughway through our and their land.

So, I told them that we should all think about our options and we'd all sit together to come to an agreement in the coming weeks. On a Friday afternoon when we are all available. Legally the shed needs to be removed. If I don't demand that now, it won't happen (there is a law saying that once a building stand for 30 years, it is considered legal) as the years pass quickly by and it's already been there for 20. So, how much land am I actually willing to give in order to keep peace with my neighbors? Or, should I quit caring about others and just place my new fence and give my three lawful meters and say so be it, this is how it is?

It's a bit dependant on what agreement the neighbors bring back to me. If they are realistic and don't try to tell me I should be happy with what I have and just keep paying taxes for them to use my land, which is basically what they told me today, I may be willing to work with them. However, it is my land and my personal space, and I will have use of it in the manner in which I decide. Nobody is going to tell me what to do with my land. But if they are reasonable, I may be able to keep it out of court...becuase though I won't tell them, I'm just a tad bit nervous about it coming down to that. I don't like the idea of court, and my stomach is already turning just from the various discussions I had to undergo today. I'd hate to have to feel the stomach pain I'd have sitting in a courtroom. But, I will....if I have to.

A letter in the car

2010-04-19T10:47:00.004+02:00

Our vacation to Germany was wonderful. It seems to me to be one of the best vacations we've had. A great combination of exploration and discovery, but in a relaxed and easy manner. The kids really seemed to get along well on this trip, and seeing them laughing and playing together was good for my heart. There were no major meltdowns and no major problems. It was a typical family vacation and rejuvenated all of us. So, from me, there are no complaints.

However, on the way home, Kaeden had a meltdown. I'm not entirely sure from where it stemmed, other than the boys playing a game and rules changed, and then the game was thrown and from there it all went downhill. I asked Erwin to stop the car, and at the following exit we got off and parked in the driveway of a business. Though I wouldn't call this meltdown one of Kaeden's worse, it ended of fun vacation on a negative note. It's something we have learned to accept and anticipate when something changes (vacation is over, back to home and school), but nevertheless, it still comes as a shock, and still hits you with a blow. Here is the letter I wrote in the car, sitting in the backseat with my son, following our meltdown. I call it ours, because it is never just Kaeden involved, but us as a whole, a family with autism.

Just stopped. I am so angry. Had to get off the highway because my two wonderful kids can't stop fighting. And Kaeden can't keep his hands to himself in which Jari screams like a banshee. So, off the highway to change seats and get them away from each other. When am I going to learn? Even if they promise there will be no problems and beg to sit next to each other, don't do it. It is simply asking for trouble.

So, Kaeden flips out and the thing I was most nervous about was being by the busy road. Cars speeding by as he kicks and screams and hits- I was afrais he would run out there in front of a car. And his mouth- I can't stand listening to how he speaks to us, but most especially to Erwin. The names he calls him are so rude and disrespectful. I actually hate the way they speak to each other, neither of them is respectful, but in this case Kaeden was definitely at fault.

As he it the fence with his belt I demanded he forfeit it before getting back in the car. His tantrum continued and when I moved Jari's booster seat to the front seat and saw Jari just standing there on a rock, off to the side, observing the entire situation unfold. His hands clutched in his pockeets just watching. How do I feel? Sad, sad that at 8 years old this is the only life he has known. But even more so, sad that being this is the only life he's known he still hasn't figured out how to help prevent these scenarios. I don't blame him, not at all, but I can't understand why when he sees such an ocassion arising, he doesn't know enough to stop.

It's often, though not always, clear that Kaeden is ready to explode. Erwin also has difficulty with this, though in his case it is more that he believes Kaeden must obey and must succumb to the rules. I just don't know. For me, I'd rather enforce only when it's something important and forego the fights and meltdowns and the ensuing feeling of sadness and hurt which remains in my heart long after the tantrum has subsided. None of us is right or wrong, I suppose, as we all must do what we have to do to live with autism. In general, though, Kaeden is most calm with me. There are many factors that contribute to that. All I know is that autism is the culprit, and because autism is a part of who Kaeden is, he gets the blame. Should he? I'm not sure- sometimes yes, sometimes no- but even with autism he has to learn to live in the world according to the rules society sets forth. Or we as parents set forth. Or teachers set forth.

Kaeden seems somewhat more controlled when he has a meltdown compared to a couple of years ago, but they still happen, and when he is stilled, calm, and happy again 20 minutes later. my heart is still beating double time, my blood still pulsing hotly through my veins, the 20 minutes a lifetime, a mixture of fear, anger and pain, added to the guilt I feel that all my entire family must go through, each of us in our own way, as a result of autism.

Erwin let me handle things during this episode-he let me take care of business and get Kaeden calmed down so we could go, and for that I am grateful. As we continue on our way Jari is role-playing with his stuffed bear, Erwin driving us home, Kaeden watching a movie as he points out a hot air balloon he sees in the blue, sunny sky above us---and I? I just have tears hiding behind my eyes, knowing this won't be the last time, certainly wasn't the first time, and I once again curse autism as we head towards home, our family, vacation nearly ending, once again autism ending it in the way which is so typical, in the manner of which we have all become accustomed, a change on the horizon upon which autism cannot bear, but must. Life goes on----

And that is my take on our last autistic meltdown. And even so, it was a truly wonderful family vacation, one I will treasure forever, remembering my boys chasing around the playground, their laughter filling the silent air.

Squatters

2010-04-09T17:47:00.002+02:00

I learned something new last night. My husband came home from work and told me about the krakers (squatters) occupying the building next to the one in which he works. I have never heard the term kraker, and had no idea what he was talking about. He went on to explain what they do and the legalities of this practice in the Netherlands. I was surprised.

The law allows squatters to legally enter any building that has been uninhabited for more than one year. Until there are new renters or the building comes into use, they have the legal right to occupy the building. This law comes from the 1970's when there weren't enough homes for all the people, and uninhabited buildings became places for them to call home.

The building on the terrein where my husband works is an office building. It is huge, but has been empty for over a year. And in one way or another, these krakers have entered the building and now call it their space. Does something seem wrong with this picture?

To me, I find this practice one which puts me at a disadvantage. I have to pay for my home, taxes, power. If I was a squatter, I wouldn't have any of these costs. I may have to move around a lot, or get caught up in riots with the police, but legally they can't force me out without notice. And in an office building? How can that be considered proper housing? It seems a waste of government money to place protective forces to guard these buildings. And what about once they need to be forced out in a riot situation?

I can understand the squatters making their point, saying that these buildings shouldn't be left to rot and create situations such as this. That buildings have a purpose to be used, and not sit empty causing neighborhoods to become polluted. However, this practice seems unreal to me. They just overtake a space and call it their own? They don't follow the rules set forth by society and create a home of their own? I had no idea such a thing was legal.

So, I learned something new today. I certainly won't be leaving my home empty for year. I'd hate to come back to force a new family out of my own home.

Sleepover

2010-04-07T11:13:00.003+02:00

Today marks a first for us. Today, after soccer camp, we'll have a special guest come stay at our house. Today, Jari has his friend coming to spend the night...for the first time ever! And boy oh boy, is he excited!!! All he has talked about for a week is the upcoming sleep over and what he and his friend will do. All he has considered is where they will sleep, what they will eat, what movie they will watch. He is so excited!

Many of Jari's plans have to be put on stand-by due to Kaeden's behavior issues. Having friends come spend the night is not an option when we don't know how Kaeden will react to the extra stimulus, what may cause him to blow. It isn't fair to our youngest, and though we realize this, it's also unfair to put another child into a situation where he'll be subjected to an outburst. So, though many of Jari's friends have had sleepovers, Jari has of yet been unable to have this rite of passage. However, that all changes with this afternoon.

While the boys are at soccer camp and Kaeden happily and safely tucked away at his home away from home, I'm going to set up a tent, blow up some airbeds, and create a mini-camping for them to arrive home to. Jari plans to have his friend help him work on his hut in the farmer's field, but after dinner it will be a movie and popcorn and cookies in their little getaway hidden in Jari's room. "Can we stay up til 10 mama?" he asks with his eyes shining. "Can we eat cookies and have hot chocolate and watch a movie til it's dark?" "Do you think Xander will like sleeping in a tent? What if we get scared? Can I wake Xander up in the morning? What if Papa is already gone to work when we wake up and Xander won't even see him? Do you think my pyjamas will fit him (in case his mama forgets to pack his, of course.)?"

The questions are unending, the excitement filling his mind and body with stress. He can't believe this little treat has been offered. He can't believe he's finally having a friend come spend the night. He can't believe he's finally big enough to take on this type of party.

And his excitement is working it's way over to me. "What should I make for dinner? Do you think Xander likes....., are you guys going to take showers or a bath after training? What movie are you going to watch before bed? Should I let you stay up til 10 when you have another full day of training tomorrow?" This sleepover party is exciting. I remember back to my own sleepover experiences and how much I enjoyed spending the night with a friend. How much fun it was to have a friend come stay with me. How the rules changed and gave me more freedom. And now, it's happening with my son, for the first time ever in our home. I better get that tent set up as promised, because though it's just hours away, 4 pm can't get here soon enough! It's so exciting!

Growth

2010-04-02T23:35:00.005+02:00

It has been a very big, busy week. Tonight, I sit alone as everyone sleeps in bed, after pulling out the vaccuum to clean up glass that shattered from one end of the house to the other as Kaeden dropped his bowl on his way to bed. As he started to defend himself and explain what happened, I quietly told him that it was an accident. A simple accident and accidents happen and he doesn't need to explain. Though I become quite stressed in the face of messes and broken objects, never have I chastised my kids when it's an accident. There is no reason to feel guilt for something that just happened. But it stopped me for a moment, his nervous explanation, wondering why he was so concerned when he's never gotten in trouble for something like that. And I considered all the things that break in his presence, all the things he breaks in anger, and it made me realize that he feels the need to explain to come to terms with what has happened. So often he has to explain his acts, so often it wasn't accidental, so often he has to defend himself...this time, I hugged him tight (he let me) and told him quietly that it was okay. I could feel him relax under my arms, his body soften, his breath escape. It made me feel good to be holding him at that moment, realize how much stress he holds inside, how my simple gesture allowed him to just....breathe. I need to remember, try to be patient, allow him to relax. My son just looked at me and answered "Yeah." So simple. So free.

I also discussed something I was sincerely worried about discussing with him. He had off of school today and we sat and talked about our summer vacation plans. I signed him up for a kids vacation camp with one of his friends from school, and he was so excited as he told me about all the fun stuff he'll get to do. I love knowing he has finally discovered true friendship in life. This young man he has befriended, and who has befriended Kaeden, has already managed to work his way into my heart. I appreciate him, allowing Kaeden the chance to have and be a friend. Both of them are so deserving of each other.

Anyway, I booked plane tickets this week for a vacation home. Just for Jari and Mama. I was worried about Kaeden's reaction to this bit of news. He thrives on being with Gramma and Grampa and going back to America. He loves retelling stories of his time there, remembering so much from our life before Papa and Jari, where he lived and what we did. I was afraid I was setting myself up for a very disappointed kid, but he proved me wrong. Initially, I saw his look of disappointment cross his face. He looked down and away, but immediately gave me full eye contact as he asked when we would go. He asked about the logistics, who would take care of him, when he would stay at school, how he would get there. When I told him he would have a full week of vacation with Papa, the look that crossed his face was one of sheer fascination. His smile was bright as he said "Me and Papa can finally have some time to do fun stuff alone!" He continued to tell me that it's been a long time (2 years) since Jari has seen gramma and grampa, and repeated in his own words all the reasons I told him Jari needed a chance to go to America this time around. And he was okay with it all. He was completely and totally okay with my decision. I had absolutely no need to worry, he just accepted that this is how it is, and yeah, I'm gonna have a good summer too.

I am so proud of him. Two years ago I couldn't have fathomed him accepting something like this happily, let alone without having a major meltdown. Today, he took the news with a smile on his face, happy for time alone with Papa, happy Jari gets to see his grandparents, happy he gets to go to summer camp with Sacha. I couldn't help but be a bit shell-shocked, but as we shared a piece of cake and cappuccino, I really felt like my son is beginning to grow up. He's coming to terms with how life works, and learning to accept disappointments as well as excitement. I'm not saying everything is perfect, we still have a long ways to go, but these first little glimpses into my son as a man ahve me feeling proud. So proud of all he has achieved, proud of what a giving person he is becoming. Through it all, I must have done something right. Because the young man I spent today with is exactly the young man I have always dreamed he would turn out to be.

In addition, parent teacher conferences were this week and his report card was terrifically filled with good grades. And even better, his behavior for the time being seems to be at a lull, and he hasn't had any threatening outbursts as of late. His one meltdown resulted in him leaving the school building and taking a walk to the animal park on campus. These are the exact tools we have been trying to teach him for years. When the going gets tough, remove yourself from the situation and when you are able, come back and try again. And his finally achieving this, leaving without reacting in violence, is something that makes my heart swell a thousand times. Again, I don't have high expectations, but the fact he was able to do this is just so huge...and I know he can do it again. It's just these little things that show me of his growth, of the possibilities he has contained within, despite his autism.

My little boy is growing up. It makes my heart thump with happiness.

Life Isn't Fair

2010-03-30T17:38:00.004+02:00

So, I've been a bit nervous the past few weeks. I have been awaiting my appointment with the neurologist after more tests in the hopes he would find the problem causing pain in my hand and arm and say: Yep, we can fix this!

Unfortunately, life is not quite as fair as we would all like it to be. Today I had my appointment. Today I wasn't told my problem could be healed. Today I feel a great disappointment in life.

Because of my situation and the intensity of my damages occurring during my accident, I have already been given all there is to give in making my arm more functional. The doctors in Czech Republic did everything right. And the fact I have as much use of my hand as I do is somewhat of a miracle. I look at these things realistically. Of course I am grateful for what I have, of course I am happy there were no mistakes made which left me handicapped. But, the fact remains that I am handicapped despite all the good that was achieved. And it stinks.

Instead of reoperating and likely creating additional problems, we're looking at pain management. Pain management to last a lifetime, which involves drugs that play with your body. The drug of choice is one developed originally for epiliepsy, but has been found to also help people manage nerve pain. It also boasts side effects of dizziness, concentration difficulties, sleepiness, weight gain, and stomach discomfort. The dizziness, concentration difficulties, and sleepiness are evident in the majority of users. So, it's a decision based on dealing with side effects versus pain.

How does one go from being a mom and wife able to do anything and having just a so-called normal life to being someone handicapped, living with pain, and unable to even catch a ball, cut toenails or tie shoes? How does life so flippantly change for the worse? In the blink of an eye, while on vacation, I have become another person. I have been granted the gift of life, but in exchange I have to compensate with a useless hand. It doesn't seem fair.

But what is fair? Is autism fair? Is living thousands of miles from family fair? Is being obese fair? No, life isn't fair. It's about taking what you've been dealt and doing the best you can and living as a good person through it all. It's about being grateful for having a chance to live your life, and making the most with the days you've been given. It's trying to remain patient when problems arise, and being proud when you get through without raising your voice. It's about wrapping those you love in tight hugs and showing them you love them, giving them respect regardless of whether you believe in their choices. And it's about hearing that though you may never have use of your hand again, you will still work hard to make the most use of it possible, and accept that though it may not be able to hold a glass or clasp a bra, it's still attached to your body and still moves. It's about dealing with the pain life throws our way.

So, though I haven't been given the hope I longed to hear, I have to look at this from a positive side. I can't dwell on the negative and let it overtake my life. I am what I am and I must move forward and be a success with what I have been given in life. I must go on, continue being a mom and a wife and be the best I can at those things which mean the most to me. Life isn't fair. But when a foul ball gets hit your way, you've still got to step up to the plate and do your best to catch it, hearing the cheers behind you that give you the courage to do what you gotta do.

Relationships

2010-03-16T17:47:00.004+01:00

I have been thinking a lot lately about the relationships with men and boys I have had throughout my life. Though I haven't had many long-term relationships, I've had a share that have brought me to a certain knowledge about what being involved means. And I also realize that many of my relationships throughout life have been on a long-distance scale, which is something I have to conclude is easier for me. I can get to know someone quite personally without the face-to-face confrontation. And I suppose, that's also the reason those various said relationships failed. The excitement at being with someone is replaced by the excitement of receiving that next letter or card, or in today's world, email. And as the letters, calls, or emails dwindle, so does the passion that stood in the relationship. Without the presence, the need wears thinner until it is suddenly gone. And without the repurcusions of a face-to-face break-up, it falls away much easier.

Throughout junior high I had a couple boys I "dated". Dated being a very loose term, as we held hands in the hallway at school and he walked me to my classes. This was the point I had my first experience with a long-term relationship. His name was Justin and I had known him when he lived in Laramie, but he had moved to Florida. It was then that we began writing and discovering what it meant to be 'in love' through our letters. I can still remember awaiting his next card in the mailbox as I would scurry to my bedroom and sit there opening it up as if it were a treasure. But, kids will be kids, and eventually no more cards came. And that was that.

Towards the end of junior high and my transition year into highschool, I dated Mark. We spent hours upon hours through the summer at the baseball park. During my time with him, I learned about kissing and touching and sexual tension. And I learned about what boys can do to a girl's self-esteem when all they really wanted all along was one thing: sex.

In high school I was one of the kids from a great mix of friends, but never fit into any one group. I never got close to anyone, really, though I would consider my DECA and Newspaper clubs as having the most influence over me during this time. I never really went to parties or movies or out with the crowd. But even so, I came to be involved with a guy from the tech school, Tracey. He was older and my parents disapproved of him. The reason was because he was a techer, and far too old (19) for their little (16) girl. I snuck around to see Tracey, and spent hours helping him fix up his cool car. We had a good time together, and were even allowed to go roller-skating with a group on ocassion. My parents didn't know about all the other time I spent with him. Our relationship fizzled as spring turned to summer and he went back home to Montana after his semester.

When I was in my last year of high school, I was involved in another long-distance relationship with Pablo. He didn't live so very far, and we managed to see each other fairly regularly when I took the bus to meet my girlfriend, who was his cousin. When I got my own car, I was even allowed to go there to visit. I don't think my parents understood how romantically involved we were. They knew I was planning to marry him and be with him forever, but it was just puppy love in their eyes. We kept in touch via phone and mail, hanging onto those few in-life meetings we had in between. Pablo could barely speak English, but at that time my Spanish was quite fluent and we communicated easily. We joked that ours was the language of love. Until I suddenly realized the language of love couldn't exist without us speaking a common language, and eventually he gave up and moved back to Mexico.

In my first year of college I still lived in Laramie, but moved into an apartment with 3 other girls. I met Rob as he lay in the middle of the main street through town in the middle of the night. My girlfriends and I were headed home after a night at the bar and I had been drinking. I called out to the driver to "Stop. Is that guy laying there dead?" And we stopped and helped him up and brought him home (funny, he was also a techer), but I never went home that night. We stayed and partied some more with Rob and his friends (yes, he was also drunk), and I even stayed with him the next day when everyone finally went their own ways. We managed to spend a lot of time together in the coming weeks and I couldn't help but fall for him even though I knew he would be leaving Laramie after his exams from tech school. He went home to Connecticut, but him and I stayed in touch for the better part of 4 years. When I moved to New York as a nanny (yes, knowing he would be close to me again), we even managed to get together, and our phone calls lasted hundreds of hours each month. We had a really free and easy relationship. Nothing permanent, nothing promised, but quite intense all the same. Rob joined the Coast Guard and after I got pregnant with Kaeden, Rob found the girl he would marry, and we didn't keep in touch after that.

Rick was my next involvement. He was someone I knew from high school as he fawned after me even back then. When I had moved back to Laramie after having gone to New York and then California, Rick came into where I worked and asked me out. He was recently divorced with two kids, and though I wasn't interested in him as more than a friend, I still agreed to go out. I think my self-esteem must have been at an all-time low, because he used his charm and managed to become a permanent fixture in my life. So permanent, that when I moved out of my prarents home, he helped me move, but never left. This was the beginning of realizing I was trapped in some kind of hell. He was mean and demanding and abusive and managed to estarnge me from my family and friends. I have no idea why I didn't leave him, other than I was scared and didn't have enough courage to go. And that's when I discovered I was pregnant. Our relationship was very rocky and at one time in my pregnancy he tried to kill my baby by jumping on my stomach. I went to the hospital and was checked in to keep track of contractions as well as administer fluids. Though I didn't allow him back into our home after that, we still saw each other. When Kaeden was born, he wasn't present, but came into and out of our lives for a short period after his birth. When Kaeden was an infant he threw a box of canned vegetables on the bed, hitting Kaeden, and from that moment on it was the end of my life with Rick. I moved away from Laramie to protect myself and my baby, and though he stalked us and there were a few incidents of terror, he was never again a part of our lives.

And then, fast forward 3 years. The computer age. ICQ. And the meeting of my next and final involvement, Erwin. I met Eagle on the first night after installing a modem on my new second-hand computer. He was from Holland. I was doing a school unit on Holland. He was called Eagle. I had recently hit an eagle with my truck and damaged the front window, as well as received a scar on my wrist. It was fate. We chatted off and on for a couple months, until suddenly something switched and he became my life. Once our relationship started to evolve, there was no stopping us. Another long-distance relationship. Yet, this one had me more thn head-over-heels. There was something extra, something special which drove me into a state of complete happiness. As we chatted, and eventually shared phone calls (lots of them) and spent fortunes in postage, my dutch prince was coming for a visit. And from that first visit, we've never since been apart (other than via the ocean which separated us). When Kaeden and I moved to Holland in 200o to join our family together, it was all I had dreamed of. And when Jari came along a year later, our little family was complete. We married knowing that it was the end to all future relationships, and I was completely content with this scenario.

There have been ups and downs throughout my life with Erwin, but the ups far outweigh the downs. As far as men are concerned, he is someone I can always count on, he is supportive in my desires and needs, and he gives me a sense of security. I still get those butterfly tingles when I see him walking towards me and our life together has become comfortable and gratifying. Sometimes I need to stand back, when the going gets tough, and remember my past, the people I have been involved with, and the present that is mine. Because no matter how difficult things seem to be, we still have each other, and we vowed to love one another no matter what problems come to stand in our way. And love him, I do. Ours is no longer a long-distance relationship easy to back out of. We stand face to face every day of our lives, and need to look deeper into each other's eyes, find the click and make it flow. I'm glad there is no easy way out. I want to stand strong with my husband by my side, knowing we've worked hard individually to make this complete together. But that's what we need to do. We need to work harder.

My last and final relationship. He's exactly what I wanted, he's exactly what I got. And he's someone I see in my future, sharing travel and grandkids and cups of coffee on a sunny terrace. He is, after all these years, still my everything.

Explode

2010-03-14T20:48:00.002+01:00

I am at the point of nearly exploding. I feel as if I take another breath it's going to be the one that lets the dragon loose. I should leave the house and get some fresh air; remove myself from the danger zone. But I can't do that, fearful what should happen in my absence. I am totally on the edge, ready to jump off that highest bridge. I can't begin to describe how tense and tattered I feel. My muscles ache, my head is pounding, my mouth is dry. Physically I am aching. But even more painful is the fact that my spirit is crushed beyond recognition.

I feel ready to snap. The following word uttered shall be the one that crushes those sweet red cherries into a pulverized dripping mess in my hands. Cherry juice, pulp added...thick and red as blood.

My heart is beating, but feels as if it's boiling, bubbling up with every pump, leaving a fullness in my throat. If I swallow, it'll send the whole mess spilling over. I'm really not sure how much more I can take. This is not what I signed up for when I chose to be a mother and a wife. This is not what I wanted when I envisioned our little family of four. This is not the future my past presented to me, and the future I'm now envisioning won't be including me. The bridge is too close. The bile too burning.

Beek

2010-03-10T08:54:00.006+01:00

It's another sunny Belgium day. Cold, but sunny. The skies are blue and the barren trees art against the backdrop of the sky. It's beautiful, as I look out my window, seeing the sway of branches in the slight wind. Through my other window, I can see the church tower, a tower built so long ago, in the year 1007. It's unbelievable to me, having such a piece of history right in front of me. At the top of the tower, a golden rooster stands proud in the blue of the sky.

My little village is definitely tiny. But the church tower breathes a bit of life into our tiny little place in the world. Housed inside the church is the oldest organ in Belgium, called the Gilmanorgel and dating to 1593.

We have nature areas the fall within our town limits. The canal runs through, separating our town into two distinct areas. On one side of the canal is the village, houses and people, the little grocery store, one cafe, and a snack shop. Here is also the elementary school combined with the well-used community center. On the other side of the bridge, which is now being rebuilt, slowly adding something new to the old of our town, are all the farms and farmland, all the cows and crops. This area also houses the old water mill which is now a place for picnics and the nature walk meeting point.

There is a lot of brick here. Homes are built in brick, strong and lasting. Just like in the story the Three Little Pigs, the brick home protects, and can handle any disaster. The older bricks are all of the reddish variety, while newer homes are being built with lighter tan colored brick. Sometimes, seeing so much brick gets to me. It's something quaint about Europe, and nearly unheard of in American towns. House after house built of brick, as well as sidewalks, all meshing into one. Some streets are even made of brick, or cobblestone which are beautiful but a disaster to walk on...cobblestone streets...quaint, European.

The front yards are all prettily manicured, grass and flowers, neat and tidy. Windows in the homes are covered by a sheer curtain, usually a vase or trinket placed in twos in the window. In the darkness of night, nearly all the windows are shuttered closed, keeping out the wind and the cold. Securing the home from the dangers of night.

The school yard is closed off in a great big gate and fence, and the play equipment is minimal. There are soccer goals and a basketball court, along with hopscotch and other games painted on the play surface. There are no slides or swings or climbing gyms. Children play marbles and jumprope and it sometimes reminds me of watching Little House on the Prairie. Sometimes, during recess, I go take a little walk, just to see the kids playing, hear their laughter and shouts, try to pick my kid out of the crowd as he competes in another rendezvous of soccer. The bell rings, the kids line up in lines, no talking, no whispering allowed. Once the bell rings, it's like a stillness overcomes our little village one again.

And the clock on the church tower rings. Every hour, I hear the bells number the time. One oçlock, two oçlock, three oçlock... and each half hour I hear one single toll of the bell. I have come to need the tolling of the bells, use them in judging my time. Though I know it's nearly lunchtime, time to pick up my son from the gates of his school, I only leave home as the last bell at 12 tolls.

My village. My life here in Europe. A little piece of history and nature combined in the modern technology of life in this great big world. The history is alive, as is the modern day world. It's a very nice mix.

Jet Lag ro Worry

2010-03-09T09:40:00.003+01:00

I am not sure I ever knew what jet lag was before. This business is sincerely sucky. I am having the most difficult time ever getting back into the swing of things. I am completely and thoroughly exhausted. I have been to America and back so many times, yet this trip has done me in. I can't sleep at night and feel wholly worn out. I can't focus.

Maybe it comes from worrying about what's to come. I have appointments coming up to decide the future of my hand. All I want is for the tests to show it can be healed. I actually hope the nerve has attached to scar tissue or has stopped growing together due to scar tissue. I want the neurologist to announce: This is how it is and surgery will take care of it.

I'm tired of the pain and the feeling of balloons attached to my body. I don't like looking at the discolored appendages stuck on what used to be my fingers. I hate trying to grasp something and it falling through my fingers. Or actually getting a grasp on something, and pain shooting through as if I'm on fire. Or having to wear gloves with my fingers in one hole to try to keep them somewhat warm so as not to have the pain bring me to tears.

It's strange, how this disbaility I call my hand now looks somewhat normal, but feels worse by the day. I don't want my future to involve a hand that can't function, or pain that can't be relieved. I just want things to be back to normal. I want it to feel how I try to portray it to the rest of the world. As if everything is really okay.

I hope that becomes my reality very soon.

Vacation Learnings

2010-03-04T09:05:00.005+01:00

Erwin and I returned home from vacation last night. The non-stop cuddles I received were welcome with open arms. My baby missed his mama and it felt so good to have him in my arms again. Now I can await Friday to see my other little love again. Our vacation was a wonderful getaway and a much deserved break for us as a couple. There are many things I learned on vacation, and I'm going to try to break it down.

My parents, wherever they are, feel like home. Having them around me makes me feel complete. On this visit, I didn't feel like a little girl, but an adult sharing my life with them. Maybe that comes from not going 'home' to my childhood home, but it felt good to be with them as the woman I am. However, being closed up in their arms was like a little piece of heaven and I am so thankful to have them in my life.

American teenagers are a different breed. We went to eat at Taco Bell one night and the kids hanging out spilled into the parking lot and the restaurant, their clothing in shambles, and their rudeness extreme. There needs to be someplace these kids can go, other than a rundown aprking lot in some hooker town.

I discovered a side of my husband that I don't like. He can be very selfish and arrogant, and I was embarrassed when each of my family members asked me if he was okay. His attitude put a definite damper on my happiness being encircled by family. I have learned that Erwin in a crowd of Americans (maybe just after jetlag, but I'm not sure about that) is not the place to be with him if I want to smile and laugh. I need to learn not to let his attitude affect me so much, but allow myself the comfort I feel being surrounded by family. He needs to learn that I accept our life in Europe and he could be more accepting of my needs when in America.

I discovered that when Erwin and I are alone together, we make a very happy, content couple. We talked and laughed and touched and smiled. It was something we really needed to regain some passion in our marriage, and I think that our trip accomplished this. Being alone forces us to acknowledge the things we love about each other. I have much to love in my husband. And I am grateful for him in my life.

I realize how much European culture has become a part of me. I missed the ease of life I have here, as well as the after dinner coffee.

I like warmth. The sunny, blue skies did wonders for my spirit. The deep blue made me sing with happiness.

I love the adrenaline rush of the city, but it gets on my nerves very quickly. The crowds of people and the noise start making me crazy after a very short time. All I need to feel replensihed is a day out in nature. Where we were in nature didn't matter, but it gave me a sense of peace and a disbelief in just how big the world is. Mountains, desert, rocks, sand, trees, cactus, animals...all of that is the true me.

No matter how long I have been apart from family, when we gather together it feels like the comfort of home. Having my family members close, being able to share jokes at the spur of a moment without thinking about how to say it, having history with these people, and being surrounded by love is something I truly treasure.

I am frugal. I was astonished by the high prices of food and goods in the American stores. I couldn't bring myself to buy some things because the cost was too high. I also realized how little I need in the way of American products. I used to have bags full of foods and supplies when I returned home from Europe, but this time it was mostly just a few treats and not really things I 'needed'. It felt good to know my life in Europe has become routine and normal and complete without American supplies. I feel as if for the first time I am completely integrated, and can enjoy those little treats from 'home' when I am there, without needing them to exist here.

Weddings in Vegas are big business. My primary goal on this trip was to see my friend get married. I did. I also witnessed 7 other marriages in an hour. A quick (yes very quick...they get you in and out) Vegas wedding can be anything. Tammy and Richard married in a pink Cadillac with Elvis singing to them, dressed in 50's garb. It was cute. But I missed a bit of the romance and reality of what a wedding is. I guess I enjoyed the variety, but feel the specialness of the event was stripped away. It wasn't what I would have wanted for myself, but it got them married and they were happy, so who am I to judge?

Nascar doesn't rock my boat. It was fun to see something new and I enjoyed the excitement of all the die-hard fans, but I wouldn't want to do it often. I love car races. But I like other races much more than Nascar!

I was disappointed in the patriotism of Americans during the presentation of the flag and the American Anthem during the hockey game. There were rude comments being shouted and few people placed their hand over their heart. I was touched by this event. Tears streamed down my face as I felt the deep love for my country and what it all means: land of the free, home of the brave...In America with the flag shining. I am glad this is something I value.

My kids are just fine when I am away, but they miss their mama. My in-laws took good care of Jari and our home, and my friends took good care of Kaeden in my absence. However, Jari wouldn't leave my side upon my return, and he was happy I was home. It feels good to be needed. Oma said that's what she realized being in my home. That she was needed, and it felt good. That's what being a mother and wife and homemaker is all about, and that is my job. I am glad I do my job well.

I had a mini-breakdown when it was time to leave America. I was cranky and upset and didn't know why, but as I drank my morning coffee in a little coffe shop, tears spilled down my cheeks and I started to sob. I truly miss my homeland, and it hurts to say goodbye. Somehow, I am more free to be myself when I am in America. As much as Europe has become my home, nothing can ever replace the American girl that makes up who I am. I was born an American, and I am proud to be an American.

There is so much more I learned on this trip. However, I can't put it all into words. These are just a few of the points I recognized. I am glad to be back in my home, where I will cook a real meal tonight in my own kitchen and fold my laundry fresh from my dryer. It was nice to wake up to a sunny morning and go out and feed my animals. I am home. And home is where you hang your hat. Home is what you make of it. I am caught between two homes, but I fit well into both. I realize that I adjust well. I am thankful I am who I am. I am thankful I have two places I can hang my hat and feel that comfortable feeling of home.

And I am glad I have this

AND this to come home to.

Vegas

2010-02-25T17:11:00.002+01:00

We made it to Vegas. It's definitely warmer than home and feels nice to walk in the sunshine without a winter coat and scarf keeping me warm. It's nice to be back in America, but it's been a slightly rocky adventure of sorts. I have family here visiting me before I attend the wedding of my girlfriend. At the moment, there are eight family members spread troughout this casino hotel, all here because they want to be here with me. It makes me feel special and loved, and I am thrilled they are all present, sharing their time with me. However, 10 people in one space with differing opinions makes for a bit of stress and pandemonium. Add to that 3 people who can't walk (oh, geez, my parents have aged with their health issues since I last saw them and it sincerely hurts my heart) in Vegas, and the choices are slightly limited. Spending days in a casino is not exactly a cup of tea. Though I enjoy trying out my luck for a $20 pop, that's about the extent of my gambling enjoyment. But sitting inside a casino for hours on end and those bells start pushing you, and when they do, your inner spirit falls as you realize that hard-earned cash is being thrown down the drain. It's not that I have lost much money, but it still seems so pointless. I can slightly understand how people get addicted, because it just makes you a bit crazy, all those clinks and bells and spinning wheels.

My dad gave a couple homeless people money yesterday while we were eating breakfast at Burger King on the way outta town to get into nature. I felt bad about telling him that he's just enabling them. My dad is a good, giving person, and would help the world if he could. Especially those less fortunate. He has a soft spot for people that need help. But here in Vegas, there are a LOT of homeless, and shelling out money to a select few is not going to save the world. It won't even save those few. And though I don't think that handing drunken homeless is the key to helping them, I wish I wouldn't have berated my dad for it. He was just trying to help, and I hope that he doesn't look at me in a more selfish light due to my viewpoint. I too would love to figure out how to save those 'lost' souls.

I My gramma could become one of those lost souls. Her gambling habits are quite profound, and it makes me ill to see her throwing her money away like she does. However, she enjoys gambling and told me that if it brings her happiness at this late stage in her life, why shouldn't she do it. Her children are all grown and living their own lives, and she can't take the money with her to her grave. She has a point, but thinking about all the places those hundreds could go besides a slot machine makes me reel in disbelief. I love her immensely and she is also giving and good, but her spending habits leave much to be desired. I hope that when I am her age I can find a worthier cause for my excess money.

I'm starting to miss my boys. They are in good hands, but I feel so far away from them...and I am. I hope they ae doing well and out time apart gives us the needed sustenance to be better parents. We desrve this time away, giving to ourselves, giving our marriage some much needed time and energy. I hope that we have the chance to allow that, and that I have the strength to place my husband at the top of my list instead of taking out my stresses on the person to whom I am closest and have chosen to be my partner in life. But I also hope he will try harder to give me time with my family without adding extra pressure to the already hectic nature of this trip. It has been SO long since I have been with them. All I want to do is curl up next to my mom in bed and let her play with my hair, just be with her. Our time is too short, too precious, and I'm feeling a bit dissatisfied.

So those are some random thoughts from Vegas. We are having fun and laughing and smiling and I adore having my loved ones close by. And I can't wait to see Tammy and watch her marry this man she has chosen, and hope that she truly has found the one. I'll let you know later if I come out of this crazy casino alive...

Tomorrow

2010-02-20T22:37:00.002+01:00

It has finally arrived after months of waiting...and it will surely be over all too soon. But for now, I am excited! My first trip to America with just my husband by my side. A chance to visit my family, witness my best friend's marriage, and spend coutless hours sharing warmer weather with my husband, hopefully exploring even more of Nevada...and maybe winning a few dollars pocket money at the slots too. It has finally arrived....it has been long awaited! Yeah! I'll be back with stories to tell....

Bedtime Games

2010-02-17T17:56:00.004+01:00

The scene: Jari and I are snuggling in bed. I am singing, trying to get his eyes to become heavy and allow sleep to overcome him. I rub his back trying to relax him. But...
"Mama, let's play a game!"
"Hey bug, it's nite nite time. Mama is tired. You need to go to sleep so you'll be happy tomorrow."
"C'mon Mama, it's just a little game," he says, swinging his arm around my neck and pulling me in closer. "It's fun!"
"I like games too, but it's too late to play a game. We need to go to sleep."
"Okay mama, but which would you choose? A tv or a computer?"
"I'd pick a computer. Then I can communicate with my family and friends."
"Yeah, and a tv you can just watch for a little while and then it's over. And would you pick a bus or a car?"
"I would pick...."
"I'd pick a bus cuz it's bigger so more people can ride in it and get around. Would you pick water or cola?"
"I'd pick water, because your body has to have water to survive, plus you can make other things with water."
"Yeah. that's what I was gonna say. Uhm...."
"Jari, would you pick a shirt or a jacket?" I asked, knowing I was completely getting myself pulled into the game.
"A jacket, becuase you can always have a very light jacket so you could use it as a shirt, but still be warm if you had to go outside."
" And would you pick a soccer ball or a bike?"
"I'd want to pick a soccer ball, but I would pick a bike. With a bike you can go places and you can carry groceries home on it. And with a soccer ball all you can do is kick it around and you have to carry it, it can't carry you."
"Jari, would you pick a boat or a train?" This game was getting fun. I wasn't even tired anymore, considering my son's answers.
''A boat. I think. But maybe a train. A boat takes you all across the water to see Gramma and Grampa in America. But a train can go faster, but I can't go to America then. Can't I pick an airplane? Mama, would you pick carrots or strawberries?"
"I would pick strawberries. They're yummy!!! So, would you pick hugs or kisses?"
"Uhm, I would pick kisses. Would you pick hugs or kisses, mama?"
"I would pick hugs. I like kisses, but hugs squeeze the love right into you. And you get warm from hugs. And you can feel a heartbeat with a hug. I like hugs the best."
""Mama, can I have a kiss before I go to sleep?"
I reach over to give him a kiss and tell him I love my Jari kisses. He reaches around my neck and snuggles tight against me. Sleep is finally overcoming him after our little game, as it has awakened me. I begin to sing, loving the feel of my son snuggled next to me. He turns his head toward me.
"Mama, I think I like hugs best too. We like to snuggle close, huh mama? And I can feel your love."
And I started to sing softly, his hair tickling my face: Mama's boy, Mama's boy, he's the center, of mama's world....Mama's boy."

And later when I woke up, I could still feel his warmth, still feel his love emanating through to me.

Fuzzy Dice

2010-02-13T09:42:00.004+01:00

Jari and I played a game the other night before bed. It wasn't a typical game we play. Oh no, we played a game designed for mamas and papas.

Last Valentine's Day, I gave Erwin those fuzzy dice, a game for us to play. On the red dice are the words Toes, Lips, Neck, Ears. On the black dice the words Kiss, Lick, Tickle... and Jari found the dice in our room as we were getting ready for bed.

"What is this for, mama?" he asked me. "Uhm, it's a game," I responded, my cheeks a bit flushed with red. "Can we play it?" he asked. "Uhm, okay" I answered, not sure how to play this out. I didn't want to confront him with the reality of what kind of game it was, stripping him of his little boy innocence. So, we played the game.

He giggled. He loved it when he had to tickle my ears as I laughed and laughed. He loved it even more when I was forced to lick his toes. "Ewwww, you have a GROSS one," he chuckled as he held out his fresh from the bath feet for me to lick. Luckily, they were fresh from the bath.

Throughout our ten minute game, my mind raced. This is NOT something you should be playing with your son. This is a sex game. This shouldn't be happening. Yet, as we played and laughed and giggled, it was also all okay, innocence at its finest.

At least the dice got their first use. I think I will once again retire the dice to their quiet place in the cupboard, hoping that one day Erwin and I can play. But, for the time being, the red and black fuzzy dice proved to me that sex is only sex when the innocence is lost.

Cereal

2010-02-09T11:03:00.004+01:00

One of the things I love is when I am getting Jari breakfast. He comes downstairs, his hair all askew, and I greet him good morning and ask if he slept well. He always looks so little to me in the morning, and as I stand at the counter making Erwin's lunch while he runs in to go pee, I watch his pyjama clad body retreat.

When he comes back, I always go to him, give him a quick cuddle, and ask what he'd like for breakfast. Samwich or cereal? Most often, it's cereal. I actually prefer it that way, knowing we get to go through one of my favorite rituals. I open the cupboard door and check the cereal contents. We don't buy name brand, except on the surprise ocassion, and our cereals are not called Honey Loops or Fruit Loops or Cookie Crisp. Instead, Jari names them by the picture on the box. Bee (the round ones or the circles?), Penguin, Bear. Sometimes, the picture changes as a different brand is purchased, but even if the penguin has turned into a polar bear, it's still penguin cereal. It always makes me smile.

So, I check the contents, and ask if he'd like Penguin or Bee? Penguin, he says, as I retrieve a bowl from the cupboard. There is no penguin on the box, no picture at all in fact, and he asks as he watches, "Are you sure that's Penguin cereal, mama?" I hand him his cereal, with just a touch of milk as he hates soggy flakes, and won't drink what's left in the bowl, and answer "Of course it's Penguin cereal!!!" And always, always, I ask him if it's yummy, and he always, always answers YES!

Penguin cereal is one of his favorites. Penguin cereal is the equivalent of Frosted Flakes. Monkey cereal is a close second, aka Cocoa Crispies. And then there's the Bee...have any idea what the Bee might bee? Think oma and opa will be able to decipher our secret cereal language when they come to take care of Jari while we're away? I may need to write out a cereal decoder...but it won't matter, as oma and opa call it all "hondenbrokjes (dog food)" or plain ole cornflakes....but who'd pick Cornflakes when you could choose the Penguin instead? :-)

"Those" Words

2010-02-08T12:59:00.003+01:00

The newest, the latest, another peak. Autism, ups and downs, rounds and rounds. You'd think after all these years, I'd know what to expect. He's already 15, I've been delaing with this for years. But yet again, my world is thrown for a loop, and I'm stunned, staring with a deer in the headlights look, caught unaware.

Kaeden has started cussing. This isn't something really new. He gets frustrated or angry and out come 'those' words. He can't express what he means and 'those' words get a reaction. We remind him (sometimes gently, sometimes in anger) that 'those' are not words we appreciate hearing from the lips of our babe. That 'those' words are not respectful, and indeed are very rude.

So, no, it's not new. But the style with which he's started using 'those' words is new. It isn't when he's angered or frustrated. It isn't when he's confused. It's more like he thinks this is the new cool and he's going to be the coolest kid on the block. He walks around muttering Shit, Damn, Fuck and Jesus Christ all day long, adding 'those' words to each and every sentence which leaves his mouth. "Jesus Christ, this is fucking good coffee." "Shit, I can't find that goddamn movie." "What the hell? Where did I put my fucking coat?" "Mom, Know what? I learned a fucking cool new move at Judo"!"

And it's annoying me. I may ocassionaly allow a curse word to pass my lips, but it's not something that is typical in our home. We don't use 'those' words in everyday conversation. But Kaeden does, and I am not sure how much more I can listen to before I explode. I constantly remind him to stop, I explain that it isn't nice, and I even send him to his room to get control of himself. But he simply continues.

Another stage of autism, another peak on the rollercoaster ride. Any ideas?

The Day Plays Out

2010-02-03T16:35:00.004+01:00

I stood at the reception counter and paid my bill. There was nobody in front of me, noone waiting behind me. Just me and the receptionist in this normally very busy doctor's office. A doctor's office where differing doctors are present on differing days, space rented to spread their service area, bring more specialty services to our local area. It's a place I have become a frequent visitor recently. It almost feels natural to head there, and I no longer need to say my name when I check in. They know me. It feels kind of relaxing, in a situation which is far from stress-free.

So, I paid my bill, zipped my wallet into my backpack, and headed out the door slinging my backpack over my shoulder. I didn't know what my plan was. I had taken the bus to the doctor's office, knowing I could catch another bus home, or walk. With the snow falling down leaving my covered in wetness, a a bite whipping through the breeze, I looked at my clock. 30 minutes til the bus arrived. What could I do in 30 minutes time?

I headed to the dentist to get my paperwork stamped which the dentist forgot to stamp at our last visit. She came out with her mask and gloves on and I heard the whirring of her equipment in the background. My mind was blank, but I smiled and asked about her new twins, then asked her to take care of this little task. I was out the door in two minutes.

I went into the pharmacy and paid the bill I owed, not giving Kaeden enough money to pay for his meds last time. I still owed 5,96, and when I went in, the pharmacist immediately went in search of his tucked away copy of the bill. "Yeah, Kaeden's medicine costs have gone up," he told me. I thanked him for turning over his medication anyway in good faith.

25 minutes til the bus arrives I thought. 2 minutes to walk to the stop. 23 minutes to go. My mind was still swarming. I couldn't concentrate and just wanted to go home. I needed to go home.

I walked into the store and grabbed a pair of socks to send to my niece. Socks are easy, just stick them in an envelope, no extra postage. I like socks since moving to Europe. A perfect little Ï'm thinking of you"gift. I grabbed a couple cards on my way to the checkout, and noticed a big bag of lolly-pops which Jari has been begging me to buy. So, I did. I added my loot to my backpack. I no longer carry a purse, but my backpack is always on stand-by for those little purchases, a bottle of water, and a pack of cookies in case Jari is with me. He gets cranky when he's hungry.

I looked at the clock above the optician. 9:33. The time was wrong, the hour way off base, the minutes exactly on. I had 10 minutes to go. I decided I'd just have to wait longer for the bus. I didn't have enough time to do anything else, so I started the short walk in the falling snow. It was falling in huge flakes, wet but not sticking. My hair became wet and the droplets fell from my jacket. I stood at the busstop, feeling the cold, my mind still swarming, yet nearly blank.

The bus arrived and I put my ticket into the reader. It took off 80 cents for my 4 minute ride, and I considered for a moment I should have just walked home. There were 4 other passengers, all elderly, and they watched me as I passed and the bus jaunted on it's way. I took my seat, thinking it barely paid to sit down. Yet I did, and then glanced out the misty windows. We stopped to pick up another passenger. He climbed onto the bus using his cane, and as he limped towards a seat, my eyes misted over, just as the windows on the bus. He's handicapped, I thought. Life isn't easy for him. He can't walk.

And then my thoughts turned back to the doctor's office, to my visit to the neurologist and the nerve tests I had just had done. I'm handicapped too. My hand is not healing. I have nerve damage, and muscle damage, and instead of getting better, it's turned for the worse.

And the blur looking out the window was misted over, and I wasn't sure if it was from the warm air hitting the cold bus windows, or the tears suddenly streaking down my own cheeks.

Legalities of Kids

2010-02-01T09:19:00.002+01:00

So, Erwin and I are heading off on our first overseas vacation just the two of us. Though I'm looking forward to going and have made all the arrangements for the care of the kids while we're gone, we haven't yet completed the one task I feel pressured to do. We haven't taken care of the legal paperwork to ensure our kids are secure in the case something should happen and we should both die.

There are numerous reasons for this. First, I don't even want to consider dying, let alone leaving my children parentless. Second, I'm not entirely sure what I need to do legally. And third, our situation is so completely complicated, Erwin and I cannot come to a decision as to who to name as our children's guardians. Neither of us feel confident naming any of our friends or family members as guardians for our kids. It's not that we don't trust family members, and it's not that we don't think they'd keep our kids best interests at heart. But in this place where we have to make a choice of guardians for our children, to place their entire future in another's hands, is overwhelming and we feel completely and utterly alone. Not just me, not just him, but both of us. It's something we agree non regarding this subject of which we've discussed frequently the past number of weeks.

A typical choice would be our parents. One set or the other. However, both of our parents are aging and not in the best of health and we don't feel that we should strap them with the care of our children. When I see and hear how tired they are just keeping them for short visits, whether a day or a month, I know we cannot put the responsibility of raising our boys on them. They are simply too old to have to raise a young family again, and add an autistic child with special needs to the mix and it seems impossible.

We live in one country, my family lives in another (in which Jari has never named America home and it would be so difficult to take away all that is comfortable and normal to him in the face of losing his parents as well), and Erwin's family lives in yet another country. The logistics of this are daunting. Legally, there would be thousands of hurdles.

Our siblings would be another logical choice. However, we don't feel that saddling our brothers and sister with our kids is a possibility. Erwin's sister has chosen not to have children because she doesn't want them. We can't force someone who doesn't even want kids to take on the responsibility of our boys. My one brother and I don't have a strong relationship (though it has gotten better over the past year, it's not a relationship I could comfortably place my children) and we don't agree with their parenting choices, as they vary so greatly from our own. My youngest brother, though I love him dearly, I can't see him and his family being able to deal with all the conflicts that come with raising Kaeden. We know that all of our siblings would do the best they can for our boys, but we can't find any of them the best choice for our kids.

Friends: I have a number of close friends with whom we have considered. Some are our age, but have no children. Some are just not financially or mentally stable enough. Some we don't know well enough, others we don't think they'd be able to handle the addition of our boys. Other Family: There should be options here, but as we go through the list, the options seem to dwindle away. One of our main choices due to lifestyle, parenting choices, and knowing the boys would be loved and well cared for, is negated due to the acceptance of marijuana use in the home, which we don't feel right subjecting our children to.

Kaeden's autism certainly plays a major role in our difficulty with choosing. His autism creates additional financial and emotional burdens in which people would have to be able to accept and deal with. I sincerely do not know many people who could have this stress added to their lives and be okay with it. I need to know, without a doubt, that he would be loved and accepted and helped, and I don't know where to find that within or outside of our family, in the face of looking at a lifetime. Because with Kaeden, it is a lifetime, and not just until he's old enough to move out of the house like it would be for Jari.

Yesterday, as Erwin and I sat talking this through over coffee at the kitchen table, we both fell silent when Erwin suddenly commented that maybe the best would be for our children to become wards of the court and be placed in a foster family who would come to accept and love them as their own. We wouldn't burden others and the boys would be cared for. But we all know how fostering works and how children get thrown from place to place.

In the face of losing their parents, I don't want my children to also lose the love of family, close friends, and the comforts they have known their entire lives. I just cannot fathom what to do, and I am totally stressed about this decision. Most likely, we will never have to use our choice, most likely our children will not lose their parents...but the possibility does exist. What are we supposed to do? How can we make a decision that concerns not only the future of our kids, but of whoever takes on this responsibility? How can we ensure they will be loved? How can we ensure they remain together as brothers and don't lose parents, home and a brother?

I don't like having to consider this. But it's one of those jobs we signed up for without knowing it when we made the choice to become parents. And I believe that it's the least we can offer our children, ensuring them their security, if it does come to play in our lives. Now, how, where, and most importantly, WHO?

Haiti

2010-01-22T13:30:00.004+01:00

Watching it all unfold on tv it is just so unreal to me. I am unable to physically place myself in the scene of the disaster, so mentally it doesn't quite hit the very core of me. It can't. I wasn't there, living through the shaking, the fear of buildings crumbling around me, the deep sadness as I passed dead bodies in every direction I looked. The disbelief that my home and my life has been stripped form me, from all of us.

But I do feel compassion and a pit of unrest deep inside of me. My eyes fill with tears at the thought of such a poor country being robbed of the little they had. Seeing the people struggling to survive, people, just like you and me, people who have to hang onto a little tiny shred of hope in order to just survive.

Yesterday in Holland was a big action calling for monetary help for Haiti. As I watched on tv I felt pride in the human race. Whatever downfalls we may all suffer through in our own lives, we still want to help, to give, to hope. The money rushed in, some people giving up their summer vacation to help those in need, others handing over a candy bar they wouldn't purchase with their lunch. It didn't matter how much or how little, people were coming together for a cause to make something right in the face of a storm...a big, disasterous storm.

I was a victim of an earthquake. When I was in my 20's living in LA, my own home collapsed during the Northridge Earthquake. Sleeping in my cozy bed feeling safe, I was suddenly thrown across the room with the glass of the window shattering at my feet, my mattress covering me in safety. My whimpering puppy lay next to me, and after the shock of it all, I went in search of my roommate. It was so dark and wherever you stepped you could feel pieces of your life crunching under your feet. We dressed with whatever we could manage to find and made our way outdoors with all the rest of the freaked out people. We still had no idea what had happened, but we knew that we were okay, we had survived, even if nothing else had.

In the coming weeks after the earthquake, living in temporary housing at a hotel paid for by FEMA, fearful of the aftershocks that kept coming, no longer being employed, no longer having a home or any belongings, I finally admitted defeat, leaving my California life behind me and returning to my family to accept their offers of help. I had survived an earthquake.

But, the death toll in my earthquake was minimal compared to the lost lives we are seeing today. I can empathize with the survivors of the earthquake on some level, but I never had to face all the deaths of my family members, friends, or common countrymen. I can't imagine, I don't want to imagine, and yet I see the pictures forcing me face to face with the devastation. It grips me, and I shudder. Yet I can't begin to imagine, can't begin to understand. Thankfully, this time I wasn't there in the midst.

This time, all I could do was make a small donation to help people in need, a country in need. And be just one face in a large crowd offering hope in the form of money, compassion in the form of silver and gold. It seems wrong, but it's all I can do. I am one of the millions who care, just one whose tiny offering has expanded to something that really can help. I pray for the dead, I pray for the survivors, and I continue to have hope. I offer them hope.

Here are a couple sites in which you can also offer hope:

American Red Cross (US): https://secure3.convio.net/arc3/site/Donation2?idb=0&df_id=1320&1320.donation=form1&s_src=RSG00100E002&s_subsrc=eopgov

Doctors Without Borders (US): https://donate.doctorswithoutborders.org/SSLPage.aspx?pid=197&hbc=1&source=ADR1001E1D01

Doctors Without Borders (Various Countries): http://doctorswithoutborders.org/donate/otheroffices.cfm

Samenwerkende Hulporganisaties (in Nederland): http://www.giro555.nl/nl-NL/default.aspx