Teenagers Are HARD!

It has been ages since I wrote a post.  I am feeling the need again lately, just to connect with that place inside myself that I only release through writing.  Today has been a day all about teeneagers, and what exactly that means.  I remember being a teen...I wasn't a bad kid, but was somewhat rebellious.  I didn't have a lot of friends and never went to parties.  I do not ever remember thinking my parents were stupid or dumb or idiots, but I am sure that must have happened at some time during my teen years.  I liked being at home but I was depressed being a kind of odd kid...I wanted to fit in, but never quite did.  Even though I was very involved in clubs and school activities and sports, I never completely fit in to any group.  I was probably one of those kids everyone has heard of, but noone really remembers.  I kind of think that whole "being" has moved with me through life.  At this point, I no longer care about fitting in, though at times i do wish i had more friendships i could nurture.  I still have many people I know, but still don't have that group of people I can be totally myself with and don't have to pretend...except for a very special few...

Today I placed a memory on Facebook sharing Jari's signing up with highschool and his school of choice.  Within minutes (he was already on the bus on his way to school) I got multiple messages and calls from him demanding that I remove it.  I tried to figure out why?  What I had done wrong.  I am *usually* cautious with what i place connecting his name kowing how he is.  In this posting I commented that i was proud of him for his school choice and that he had made a good choice.  He didn't want it on there...so, I removed it and told him we'd discuss it when he got home.

When he got home, we discussed it.  He said his friends tease him because his mom is so weird.  He says they all follow my Facebook to learn about him.  And he hates it.  ***I finally have my following!!!*** and it took my own teenager to get there!!!  haha

Seriously though, Jari doesn't want his friends to know I am proud of him.  He doesn't want them to know what he does with us as a family.  He doesn't want them to know when he fails...okay, I get that he wants some privacy, but seriously?  He'd rather be non-existant.  At least when it comes to being my son.

Jari is going through a very rough time changing with hormones, etc.  He is changing from kid to, dare I say it, man.  And I am a very obliging and easy parent (I really and truly am).  Maybe even too much so...  But this change in him?  I don't like him as much as I used to.  He drives me crazy and I think his attitude sucks.  And I live for the moments he becomes my little boy again and snuggles up to me on the couch with his chocolate milk...cuz this teenaged friend I have become?  Not so cool...

It will change again...of that I am certain.  But for the time being, I sure wish I had a group of mom friends going through this same thing to discuss my weird kid with...but once again, I am unknown, while he is known and doesn't want to be...

21 with Autism

This afternoon at work I was talking to a fellow teacher when she asked me how Kaeden is doing.  This is one of those subjects in which I never quite know how to answer...in general, people want to hear only the good news, the common, "Oh, everything is great!"  However, knowing Kaeden's story and our family history a bit more intimately, many people in our community ask what I would assume to be sincerely.  And it's a difficult question, as I don't have a really good answer.

"He's doing pretty well at the moment,"  I answered.  "He's still in Wijchmaal and has started working at a farm one day a week.  He comes home days in the weekend and that seems to suit all of us best."

The teacher went on to ask how long he can remain in school, and in his home away from home, what his future plans are, etc...and then hit me with some news.

In the paper today was an article about a 21-year-old autistic young man with aggressive tendencies whom lives in the village next to ours.  He also attended Kaeden's school and lived in Kaeden's home away from home.  However, he is now 21, and this demands that his living premises change.  At the age of 21, you no longer qualify to live in Kaeden's home away from home.  And, unfortunately, there is a HUGE waiting list for available resources for these 20-something "kids".  This particular young man's parents were shouting out for any type of assistance they could be offered.  After 13 years living away from home, none of them were able to see a successful future living together.  Yet, legally, it was the only manner.  As parents, we are legally responsible for our adult handicapped children.  Legally, they must have living arrangements.  Functionally, they can't live on their own.  So, what do we as parenst do?  When we have adult children who are aggressive, in addition to being used to living away from home, when they turn 21?  There is no help, no assistance.  We must fend for ourselves and our adult child.  And we start over once again...

I am scared for this coming future we try not to look towards.  I already know that IF Kaeden would come home to live, it would end in disaster...serious disaster...like, death of maiming injury.  It sounds a bit farfetched, but it isn't.  I know, in my heart of hearts, something very bad would come out of this scenario.  But, what other options do we have?

I am frightened of the future.  I try not to let it dominate my here and now, but the truth is that the niggling worry already flls my mind from time to time.  How can it not.  We have 2 years...two years...in which to figure out how to make living possible for all of us, without housing options.  This autism stuff just doesn't get any easier...

A Year Past

Wow, almost a year gone by and here I am, looking back over the past of my life, our life.  I can't believe all the things I have missed sharing...but it is what it is...time for the here and now.

Today, the sun is shining and it's warm and beautiful outside.  Papa is feeling a little under the weather but headed off to work and mama woke up with a sore throat but isn't going to let it overpower me.  My boys, my future...you are both well.  Kaeden sent me numerous messages after I returned him to school, keeping in touch, keeping me updated on his life and times with friends at his home awaw from home.  Jari has exams today, French and more French, and tomorrow a last Nederlands exam before he's free for Easter vacation.

This weekend we took you guys to your big night at the VIP game in Genk.  It wasn't all you expected, but you both still enjoyed yourselves and I especially liked that it was such a memorable experience you could share together.  Mama and Papa went to dinner and a movie, which we haven't done for years.  A real date, just the two of us.  It was really nice knowing we had raised you guys and now had time for us, while you both could take care of yourselves to some degree.  It made me consider what our future will be...and made me proud of all of our accomplishments.

It's now lunchtime.  Jari, you are home from your tests saying they were easy and thinking you will have high scores.  That wouldn't be unusual for you, my little overachiever.  I only hope your desire to learn and be successful stay with you always, though I sometimes worry you put far too much pressure on yourself.  And Kaeden, thank you for a peaceful, easy weekend.  I know it is hard for you and takes lots of energy to make it okay for all of us, but seeing your glowing smile when Eef asked how everything went makes me know how badly you also benefit from happy weekends together.

So, that's the start after a year of absence.  The sun is shining and so is my heart.

Health

Today I spent the morning at the hospital.  This time, it was just for control of the breast cancer scare early last year.  I did my tests (another day of getting poked all over trying to find a vein) and was told no results other than to speak with my doctor later in the week.  The good news is there was no biopsy this time around, so I am assuming everything looked okay.  But why do they let you worry for days if there is nothing wrong.  Why can't they say "Everything looks good.  You can make an appt with your doctor for followup advice."  Then at least you know the score, where you stand in the race.  So, Erwin made me an appt for Thursday and I'll hear what they have to say.  If there is time left over, I can discuss with my doc one of the MANY other issues I need to see her about.  This health stuff, it's driving me CRAZY!

I'm not entirely sure when it started but in the past couple years I have so many health issues it's starting to sincerely drive me crazy.  I mean, as in, one of the problems I want to discuss with my doctor is this weird feeling happening in my head.  I always feel as if I am living in a dream.  I forget things quickly and easily, and even simple little things seem very foggy, just as if you sort of remember a dream, bits and pieces of it, but it doesn't all fit together quite correctly.  It's actually a very scary feeling, and I am not sure if something is physically wrong with me or if the stress of life has finally caught up to me and I really am going crazy.  In any case, this is an issue I am somewhat scared to bring up.  I mean, I don't want a referal to a psych but I also don't want a brain surgeon...yet there is a real and definite problem and it is affecting MANY areas of my life, including my relationships with all my family members.  I am very easily angered and frustrated, and a large part of that has to do with not actually being able to be present due to this fogginess.  I take it out on my family because I truly cannot concentrate on more than one voice, sound or movemnet at a time...which isn't reality.  The headaches that come with this are extreme.

This is just one honorable mention in the list that I have made of health issues.  I am a 42 year old woman feeling like a demented 85 year old.  And as my mind fails me, so does my body.  It's just no fun!!  So, Thursday I have an appointment with my doctor.  I hope the news brings some sense of relief, and gives me an opening to walk out into the light once again, leaving the fog behind me, instead of surrounding.

Back From Reprieve

Has it really been SOOOO long?  Yes, it has.  Far too long.  I think one culprit is Facebook and using that as a tool to status my life, but the other culprit has been me myself and I.  When one is unhappy, one finds difficulty in making words flow.  Yesterday I logged into my blogger account and reread some of my past posts.  I remembered why I started blogging; to document our lives, the good and the bad, a diary for my children to one day be able to again touch their childhood.  So, I decided that for me, as an outlet, this is necessary.  For my children, only a benefit in their future if they so choose to read our story.  Now, let it unfold.


I haven't been managing well in my life.  I have had numerous health issues hit me the past few years, and i think that coupled with all our other issues has sent me a bit over the edge.  When my knee surgery uncovered a serious arthritic issue last summer, I really started to feel older than my age.  When the shots quit helping and I was forced to use a crutch to walk, a piece of my spirit went with it.  I finally completed my series of gel shots last week which will hopefully give me back a sense of independence and health.  I still feel some pain and still walk a bity limpy, but it does seem to be helping and I actually took the stiars step by step like a normal person this week.  So, we're going to stay focussed on the positive and hope that I can walk comfortably enough to get into shape, as I have gained weight and lost self confidence throughout this process of being unable to walk.  Last week on our way to the doctor, I didn't have enough money in my wallet to cover the costs.  Oma was with Jari and I and Jari discovered she had €32 in her purse.  With the combined funds, we'd have enough to pay my docotr visit.  But, Jari wouldn't be able to have his coffee and pie day out with oma while they waited for me.  Jari said,"Yeah, but I would MUCH rather mama be able to walk again than I get a piece of pie.  So we should use the money for the doctor!"  I looked at my little boy and tears spileld over my cheeks.  Whatever we do wrong in parenting, it's also very obvious that Erwin and I are also doing some things right.  That child is caring, giving, and loving and I am so proud to be his mom.

This year marked the 18th birthday of Kaeden and with his birthday the title of adult.  It has been crazy trying to arrange everything for this next stage of his journey of life.  Last week we attended court to take away a primary right of our adult son.  It was a difficult step for me, knowing I was doing the right thing, yet wanting it, yet again, to be a different story.  Kaeden's financial matters now lie in my hands, with assistance from the judge.  It's just the beginning of taking over the care and the rights of our now adult son.  And it looks like a very long road ahead, especially emotionally.  As we fight for rights as his parents, we also fight for rights for him, all the while keeping his needs in the forefront.  I never knew what a journey I would be forced to take when I gave him life 18 years ago.  I wouldn't change that moment in time for anything, but I certainly feel as if my hopes and dreams for him have been forced into the black hole, never to return.  My dreams for him now include the hope for one day of ease when he comes home for the weekend.  One day we can all enjoy each other without problems.  One day in which he can manage to just "go with the flow".  One day where his eyes twinkle as he tells a story, rather than a darkness locking away his spirit somewhere deep inside.  Those moments keep me going, that twinkle is my hope.

Jari is ending his first phase of his schooling life.  Next year he attends middelbaar, the beginning of his secondary education.  It hasn't been easy, assisting him in discovering what choices are available and making a decision about his future.  I much prefer the Laramie Wyoming way where there is one school, you go there, get a general education and at 18 move onto college.  At 12, Jari has chosen to head off into the big world and attend sports school.  It means him traveling alone on the city bus system to reach his school.  It means extra hours of training, extra expenses, and extra work for all parties, as well as deserting all that is familiar inclusing his friends.  But he is certain and he is determined and he claims to be ready for this next adventure in his life.  I am so proud of him.  He is a good student with many friends, he is polite and becoming a bit more open towards others.  And he is a soccer player with a dream much bigger than he is.  This dream, I treasure it.  I watch him considering possibilities, I hear him discuss his future, and front and center lies his goal; to be a professional soccer player.  He has talent, his abilities are strong, but what a long road ahead to reach his dream.  I feel as if allowing him to attend sport school is allowing him to strive further towards this goal.  I worry about what it will do to him mentally, such a challenge with long hours and additional stress.  But I am excited to see how he handles the pressure, to watch him evolve and see what he will become.  It is with pleasure that I watch my little boy growing up and making a life for himself.

That is it for today.  A shortened version of life, everything in a nutshell.  What have I written?  A documentary of my children, the two beings that tug at my heart and while I gave them life, they have reciprocated by giving it back to me.  Along with my husband, we struggle through, trying to give to them while making our own lives meaningful as well.  Our sons, our boys, the central point of our lil family, and the only thing important in the whole scheme of life.

We're at the halfway mark in this round with the psych hospital.  Halfway there...

Last night I went to visit my son.  Picked him up and took him out for an ice cream cone.  It is moments such as these that I so treasure with him.  Just him and I doing what any parent and child would/should do.  We walked through the door of the ice cream shop and another man was being served.  He had a huge cone with a ton of ice cream and whipped cream and cherries on top and it made Kaeden's mouth water.  "Mama, that is a big ice cream.  Can I have one of those?"  he asked.  I wanted to say yes, have whatever you want, but I also know that 1) he shouldn't have so much  2) this was a little treat, not something that should cost a days work and 3) he needs to know that I am in control, I have the final say.  "No, Kaeden, we came to get a little treat.  Look at all those flavors they have.  Which ONE would you like?  I'm going to have the lemon sorbet."

We ordered and sat out in the sunshine, the heat of the hottest day of the year thus far hanging onto us.  I asked him how he was doing, what they'd been doing in the group.  He responded with "Nothing."  So, I tried another tactic.  "I see you have a new bracelet.  Did you make that?"

And then the floodgates opened.  He started telling me about the crafts they had done, the outdoor games with water balloons, showed me the blister on his hand from tug of war.  He smiled and laughed and couldn't get it all out quickly enough.  I laughed with him, my smile meeting the smile in his own eyes.  This was what I wanted, what I needed.  Just a regular ole conversation of daily events of mother and son.

We sat there in the sun enjoying our time together.  "So, Kaeden, what flavor are you going to choose next time we come for a cone?"  I asked my boy, my young man.  "Are you going to get coconut again, or try something else?"  I could see the wheels turning as he tried to decide.  "That tasted just like a bounty," he answered.  "But maybe I want to try something else next time.  Maybe we can come enough times that I could try ALL the flavors!"  He looked at me with a smirk, but with light in his eyes, teasing me...

This was all I wanted, all I needed.  This game parents and children play.  This is reality.

Where Is GOD?

Shades of blue come out from hiding
Behind the white clouded feathers in the sky
Somewhere up there, somewhere
God is looking down on me?

I touch the musty earth
Feel it rough upon my hand
The blades of green poking through
Grass , the world is a living being.

I take a step, and another
Waiting for His steps to match mine
Where is He when I need Him
Why doesn't He come down and carry me?

My belief is being tested
I kneel down and pray
But the sky doesn't open up
Instead tears fall over my face.

Faith is failing me, my faith
Where has it gone
Where is He?
God please help me.

Autism and Psychiatric Hospital

Today I have to find mental strength.  It seems so hard to do the past few months as I find myself sinking into some emotional pit of doom, unable to find even enough strength to do the required tasks of the day.  However, this is also a required task, and one of great importance.  But, it doesn't make it any easier to gear up for.

My son has been hospitalized in a psychiatric center for issues he is unable to control due to his autism.  He is no longer functioning in our world as his fear and struggles prevent him from managing on a day to day basis.  And it sounds like he's pulling mama along for the ride, as I am having the exact same issues, without the aggression and violence.

This afternoon we head once again for another meeting with his psychologist, our psychologist, to discuss the ups and downs of our life as a family with autism.  The ups come fewer and further between than the downs, and the worry from this has taken the livelihood from my eyes and replaced it with someone I don't even know.  I look at myself and wonder where the spirited, passionate mother and woman of long ago has gone.  What I see scares me.  I do not wish to be the woman behind those eyes.  She looks back with a defeated blank stare on her face.  She is not alive.  She cannot find happiness.

This is the second round of psychiatric hospitals for our family.  I have major doubts about what they can do to help.  All the time and energy and focus put into helping my child, and I really don't see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I can't fathom finding help for this child whom owns my heart as I think about his thoughts and actions and his manner of living.  And yet, something in me won't give up, won't quit searching, won't quit trying.  He deserves my full attention, my every breath to get him to a place of happiness and success in whatever his path through life takes.  He deserves my undying commitment.

But what he can't take from me, I have learned, is my own happiness and success.  He can't grab onto the gleam of pride and strength in my eyes and turn it into the woman I have allowed myself to become.  He can't take away my own life.  I have allowed that to happen through fault of my own, given in to the power it has over me, this autism thing.  I have allowed it to suffocate me.  I haven't been strong enough to overcome the pain and hurt and fear and worry and sadness.  This isn't about him, but about me.  This is me living with autism.  Not autism in my own head, but the outward effects of having an autistic child. I am at a place where I am no longer willing to give it the power I have in the past.  I want to stand with pride, find the twinkle of expression in my eyes, be one step above this living with autism thing.

Today I will go to the psychiatric hospital where my son is being kept for the coming 9 weeks.  I will go and tell them how autism is affecting me, my marriage, my family.  I will tell our psychologist what I need to beat autism, what I need to do to find my sanity and regain my lust for life.  I will tell her I want my husband to see the life in my eyes, be able to laugh with me again.  I will tell her that I want to be the best mother I can be for my little guy, to have energy to play.  That I want to do everything within my power to help my son find his place in life, but not give up myself in the process.  I will tell her all of this, and ask her opinion on what i need to do to achieve it.

I need mental strength.  I need to be alive.  I need to live, not with autism, but above it.

Girlfriends

I smiled, I laughed, and then I cried.  Tears of acceptance through the raw emotion of truth.  She came to me, wrapped her arms around me, and the nervous laughter replaced the tears, until tears of her own began to fall, the reality of more raw emotion.

Girlfriends, those women in my life with whom I share intimate and personal stories, the women who dare not lie to me, but bring me freedom in telling the bitter truth, no matter how much it hurts.

My very best friend in life too far away to share the truth of my everyday existence, oh how I miss her.  It is in these moments that I recognize how very much distance does matter, how a phone call cannot bring me the same feeling of reality I crave from being within the same space, a personal space.  She can no longer wipe away my tears, encompass me in a hug, tell me it will all be okay in the truth of her glance into my eyes.  I miss her, my best friend.  I miss what we have shared, what brought me the joy of having a  best female friend, someone I have come to love more deeply than if I had been given the gift of a sister.  She is a treasure to me, but a treasure just a bit too far away to fully share in my world.  No less important, maybe even more so, but the miles between us are tangible.

I have made new friends, been given the gift of friendship yet again.  I have opened my heart, my past and my future, and shared stories of triumph and struggle.  She looked deep into my eyes as I spoke, a broken soul with a history being honest and sincere, and her eyes never left mine, bored into my soul, allowing me to grieve in a safe place.  She is my friend, a person with whom I can be me and through it all, it will be okay.

We spoke of our husbands, of my children, of our childhoods and of religion.  We talked about spirituality and what it means to us, about simple things like food we eat and clothes we like to wear.  We discussed secrets we have been unable to share before in our relationship, our friendship.  We reached another level of trust, I allowed her into my safe place inside, and she opened her heart to me.

We grabbed another cocktail concoction, green and blue, snacked on some goodies in bowls on the table, the lights dimmed low and music playing in the background.  And we shared this space, these treasured hours in time, deep into the morning hours as we yawned and our eyes became sleepy, and we felt friendship, safety, trust and security.  My girlfriend and I, this person I have chosen to allow into my life, this friend I chose to be mine, this person who has become my sister, my family.

I smiled, I laughed and then I cried.  And though it all, she was present, and I know she will always be so, a present in my life, my friend.

Gentle

I said a prayer upon waking this morning
Asked that gentle come my way
A gentle breeze with promises
Whispered in my ear:

Today there will be sunshine
Flowers will bloom with color
The sky will be blue, spotty with clouds
The warmth will encompass you

You will hear a child's laughter
See the smile upon a face you pass
Bumblebees will buzz around
Coffee will be dark and strong

The doorbell will ring with visitors
They will enter in your cleaned up home
The clock will tick as minutes go by
You will feel spring when you go outside

You won't need to take pills
To make a headache go away
You won't feel sad and cry over nothing
Because you will look in the mirror today:

And upon that recognition
This is who I am
You will find peace within your heart
Won't feel lonely or afraid

Whatever will be will be
Will gather in your thoughts
The worries and ache filling your heart
Will be forced into the back

Today I prayed for gentle
And the breeze whispered in my ear
Today you will find gentle
In this, your life, this is.

Mom

Dear Mom,

It is nearly Mother's Day- once again, a day set aside to honor the woman whom gave me life.  The woman whom brings me a security and trust I find with noone else...my mom.

I am on the bus heading towards yet another meeting for Kaeden.  When I was a kid, I had no idea what a difficult job being a mother was.  You made it look so easy-  I always knew I was loved, always had everything I needed and more.  Until I became a mother I had no idea of the sacrifices you made or the pain you had to endure.  I had no idea how when your child's eyes twinkled your heart would glow or how an unexpected hug would make you feel as if you were encased in complete joy.  I had no idea.

Now I know.  As I head to another meeting hoping to find another manner to help my son, I feel the despair, the fear, the anger and unfairness of being a mother...all that I must endure.  Yet, I go, I always go, hanging onto the shred of hope that never leaves my mind or heart when it comes to my children.  Working towards those moments of success, wanting to find them, always searching, until we know without doubt that our child will find happiness, feel love, know care and achievement.

You made motherhood look easy, yet I struggle.  I struggle to come to terms with knowing I can do no more than my best, and never knowing if my best will truly be what is best.

And then, I see him, my son...a tall figure in the distance.  As he moves closer I note his grin, and it gets bigger the closer he comes.  He moves towards me, towering over me, my boy, now already a man, and as he smiles so do I.  His hug wraps me in everything I want, everything I need.  And I hope, oh how I hope, it's all he wants and needs too---my love, my hope, my achievement, my success, my happiness---all wrapped up in one hug, in one boy...

and yet, I have two...one smaller, once younger, one completely opposite from the other in character and drive and desire...yet both so important, so fulfilling, so very mine...

I am mama.

And no matter what else comes and goes in life, whatever good or bad happens, nothing can take that away from me.

 You made motherhood look easy.  I learned it from the very best there is.  I hope my children feel the same when they are forty years old, looking back upon their life.  I hope I made it look easy, that they know, without a doubt, that my best truly was the very best.

Happy Mother's Day Mom.  And thank you.

Freedom

Freedom.  I felt it.  My mind was empty of all worries and my soul felt like it could fly.  Freedom.  I could taste it.  I could feel it.  I was alive.

Such a simple thing we too often take for granted.  Hop in the car and run get groceries or run to the bank or, oh yeah, i forgot to get salt...hup, in the car, turn the key and seconds later you have what you need.  Driving brings with it freedom and simplicity.  Everything is easy when it takes no effort to achieve, which having a car affords us.

I miss driving.  I mean, I sincerely miss it.  Whenever I used to feel down or discouraged or happy or high, I'd jump in my car, turn on some music depending on my mood, and drive...sometimes to my favorite quiet spot, sometimes shopping, sometimes just take whichever road I first passed.  It always made me feel good, driving, especially out on open Wyoming roads.

Since living in Europe, having a car has been a luxury in place of a necessity.  The first year I lived in Nederland, I had no vehicle.  I did have a bike and public transport, and came to rely upon both to get me where I needed to go.  When I was in active labor with Jari, we got our first car.  Erwin still took the train to work and I had use of the car, but still tended to bike or walk, especially with a newborn and stroller, it was easier to just walk.  But, still, the car was always at my beckoning call, and I was free to use it at my every whim.

When we moved to Belgium, the car came with us.  Erwin's transportation became a bus service which left at the ungodly hour of 5:30am, but he was always home early.  I still had the car, and it became useful for me as I explored our new home, Belgium, Limburg, as well as keeping in touch with old friends in Holland.  In our corner of Belgium, public transport is present (busses, no train), and it's round the clock available, but getting places is almost a chore.  In what would be a 20 minute drive, it takes me  more than an hour by bus.  Just saying...

But back then, I still had the car and was still free to come and go as needed, though I still used my bike for the short distance trips, as I came to discover biking is 1) enjoyable  2) fast  3)  gives no parking headache  4) cheaper  and 5)  healthy.  But on those gray and rainy Belgian days (many)  I could still turn the key and come out on the other side safe and dry.

And then, Erwin's bus service quit running.  He needed the car for work, to provide for our family.  It was a necessity for him, and my luxury was stripped from me.  In the blink of an eye, my freedom was gone.  Having a car is freedom, and nobody can tell me differently.  Hop on a bike and feel the wind on your face, yes, it too is freedom, but limited....

And so, I have become a passenger in life where I used to be a driver.   I no longer have transportation to allow me freedom, which I have had since my 16th birthday...

and I have felt crippled without a car.

And Saturday, I had the car, I had the music, I had my two boy passengers and I had freedom.  And boy, did it feel good.

Nearly Every Day

Nearly every day I open my blog and think about the long amount of time that has lapsed since my last post.  I want to write, to clear my mind in the only way which truly helps me, words in written form.  Yet I don't.  And I am not sure why, other than this feeling of failure that has been running through my head.  I see what I write and  as I reread through my history, I realize how many things I have vowed to improve upon, yet failed in being successful.  Though writing helps to line everything up and make it more workable in my mind, I still haven't pushed forth and made the changes to actually be a success.  And so, I need to write, but find the task daunting as it shows the failure within my life.

Today, and for the past week actually, I have had a headache which sucks the life out of me.  For every minute spent working, I need 10 to reenergize.  This headache, along with the stomach pain, has me slightly worried.  Like a little nagging worry in the back of my mind.  I'm sure it's nothing, but dang, it hurts.  Every tylenol I pop helps the pain temporarily subside, but very temporarily.  And sleeping is the only manner in which the pain is completely resolved, so I have been doing lots of that too.  I can't figure out why I am always dealing with health issues of one sort or another.  I consider my age, just 40, and worry about my future.  If I now am an unhealthy mess, what will I be at age 60 or 70 when age really starts becoming a contributing factor?  What can I do to guarantee a more healthy lifestyle?

My husband is going through changes within his company.  Not just a few little reorganisational changes, but changes in which his entire department is no longer employed.  Luckily, his job is still solid, in some form or another.  But for how long?  And will he be happy in his job being one of the 10 of 70 employees left with a salary?  I am scared for our financial future, as what will we do without his employment?  How will we make ends meet?  What will we lose?  When will I be allowed the extra of seeing my family, traveling to America?  Will he remain happily employed, or will the stress of a job search be on the horizon for our family?  And what are my expectations as provider for our family in the event he can't?  Will I, after all these years of unemployment, be forced to find work to bring our family some security?

My husband and I are going through another phase of change in our relationship.  I don't feel certain and secure and happy with the place we have fallen.  We have even discussed the possibility of going our separate ways, and what we need to do to assure this doesn't happen.  However, compromise isn't forthcoming.  Neither of us is willing to give in on certain points within our relationship, so we have come to a standstill, neither of us feeling happy or complete.  When I asked him if he thought we would be better off separating and he answered an honest Maybe, it scared me.  I don't want to be without him.  I love him deeply and truly, and he has given me more in my life than I ever imagined was possible.  However, it isn't always enough.  Maybe I need too much, maybe it is more than he can give, but it is still a need.  If he can't fulfill that need, is it fair for us to remain in our marriage, always striving to find a happiness we can never completely reach?  What exactly do we owe each other and ourselves?  Is it possible for us to be committed to each other if we are unable to compromise on certain aspects within our marriage and family life?  Is there a point in which you finally say enough is enough, or do you keep fighting, keep trying to make it a success?  We aren't unhappy together, but we aren't completely content and fulfilled either.  When I cried in his arms worried about our future together, he assured me we would find a way to make it through...yet since the tears dried up, we haven't made any positive moves to find any solutions.

Kaeden and Jari, Jari and Kaeden...my boys.  Both bring my heart such a fullness.  But being a mom is so difficult.  The choices I have had to make in regards to my children are some no parent should have to decide.  Everything I do, I do for them.  Sometimes it is right, sometimes wrong, but always what I feel is best at the time.  My love for them goes above and beyond anything I could have imagined.  I can't believe that God entrusted their care to me...that He felt I was the one up to the challenge.  I take that challenge in pride, but it has also torn me apart in so many ways.  I cannot believe how much I have aged in the past few years.  Both inside and outside.  I feel so worn out and exhausted, my gray hair rippling in the wind behind me.  I am grateful I had my children when I was young.  I couldn't have given them what they needed if I had been an older mom.  My level of patience has become far too thin.

Kaeden continues to offer me many challenges, the latest of which is stealing, but not only from us.  This creates an ache in me so deep, knowing that I have no control over the situation or what is to come from the situation.  It is out of my hands, and I only hope that one day he learns from his mistakes.  I know that day will come, I have faith in my son, but I only worry that it will come too late.  Kaeden learns, but it always comes too late...he just messes up all the good that comes his way.  I so wish I could get inside his mind, just learn to fully understand, figure out a course of action that will finally be the one thing that can help him.  Since I can't, all that is left is to be here to hug him and share my love with him and hope that it is enough.  The good news is that Kaeden is thriving in school (other than behavior issues), and they feel he is ready for the next scholastic step, which is work training which they are hoping to start next school year.  I think this could be a positive turning point for my son as he recognizes what it takes to make it in life, and is given the opportunity to prove what he can achieve.  He is such a people person, something they always claim autistics aren't...but my son, he takes his own road...

Jari has chosen to move up in the soccer world.  He signed his first contract with a higher level club a couple weeks back, and has his mind set on becoming a star.  He keeps telling me it is his dream...such a big dream for such a little boy.  I worry that we're allowing him to push too fast too soon, but I know the opportunity will be taken if we don't take the step.  When he went to his first training with his new club, he was in tears and wanted to quit, minutes before he had to sign a contract.  I didn't know what to do.  He felt he wasn't ready, that he wasn't good enough, that he didn't like the pressure.  While he showered, all I knew was that I came for an information meeting with the opportunity for him to sign on the dotted line.  When he joined us at the meeting, his resolve was as strong as ever.  I whispered that it was his call...he had to make the decision, that if he wasn't ready, he didn't have to do it.  I don't know what changed during his shower, but he chose to sign.  I know he is a good player.  The question is whether his personality and character is strong enough to balance his skill out.  He's a quiet, shy, closed kid...stubborn as can be...and when you get to know him his stubbornness outweighs his quiet and shy side.  He is also struggling in school this year, but even I have to admit that it is crazy difficult.  The turnover between 4th and 5th grade was far too challenging.  Jari can do the work, and does it well, but his organization and procrastination skills are what he has taken away from his mama....not something to make life simple.

I cut my finger this past week, and cannot believe how handicapped it has made me.  In one manner or another, my injured hand has been thoroughly damaged by this cut in my thumb.  I immediately felt the same disabling feeling as I did when my arm was first damaged.  That feeling of knowing something is wrong and can't be made right...since I cut my thumb, I am having all kinds of diffciulties using my hand again.  It sucks. My case is still pressing along, slowly and surely, and I hope it works out like tortoise and hare...

So, that's a 'short' update on life.  I enjoyed a visit with my parents the beginning of the month.  It was something I sincerely needed, having their hugs and presence in my life.  We called my uncle on his birthday and the tears flowed from every direction...he was recently diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's Disease.  What a heartbreak for us all.

Meeting of Hope

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.