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...

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.

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.

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...

Doctor Mommy

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!

Friendship

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

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.

Tight

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 New Idea

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.

Caution!

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.

Bedtime Games

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.

Legalities of Kids

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?

Man-Child

I feel my son hug me. His arms encompass me. His shoulders wrap around mine. I no longer encompass him. I look into my son's face. His face is no longer a baby face, but covered in the beginnings of a mousetache above his lips. I hear my son speak. His voice crackles as it deepens, no longer the high-pitched squeal of a child. I see his adam's apple jigging out from his neck. I stand next to my son. I no longer look down at him, rather just a tiny turn of my head upwards to look into his eyes. His feet plunk along in size 11-12 shoes, his pants a size 33 waist, his shirt a men's medium.

Where did the time go? My son is becoming a man. I can't deny it any longer. I feel proud when I look at him. Look how far we've come. My dream of raising my little boy to be a happy, productive man is beginning to take shape. The shape of the man-child standing next to me. I'm so proud of you Kaeden Riley! But you'll always be mama's little boy!

Confused Thoughts

I haven't written much about Kaeden in his new home. I haven't been able to come to terms with how i feel about it yet. i have so many mixed emotions running through me with the advent of his new living arrangement that i can't seem to come to a peaceful place in my mind. there is so much to consider and so much pain, so much freedom, so much peace, so much hope. people keep asking me how he's doing in his new home. but, what they don't ask is how i am doing with my decision to place him there. and i am glad they haven't asked, because the answer is one which would take me a million years to formulate. so, i'm going to answer this in two parts to the best of my ability.

Part One: How is Kaeden doing in his new home?

Kaeden seems very happy with his new surroundings. The times I have called to check on how he's doing with the care givers, i have had nothing but positive reinforcement thrown in my face. a very good thing. they are happy with how he has adjusted to the rules, his choices to be involved with the other kids and the group activities. When i ask him, he answers with happiness. he seems to me to be very proud of this new arrangement, almost as if this was his lot in life and he finally has the opportunity to fit into his special place. he tells me (this is big) of activities they have done, what he eats, where they have gone. when i ask if he likes his new room, he proudly tells me that it is great, clean, and really 'cool'. he talks about the different kids who are his friends (kaeden tends to befriend everyone, which is sometimes good, but not always, and so i don't know what this exactly means...other than he has other kids with whom to play which is very positive). so, all in all, though school itself is still a big challenge and not exactly a cake walk, he seems completely at ease and happy in his new living arrangement.

Part Two: How is Mama Doing with the new living arrangement?

I am in a state of complete confusion. One minute i feel totally relieved that i made this decision, and in the next i can't help but let tears slide down my cheeks as a huge dose of guilt tugs at my heartstrings. people will say: Oh, you shouldn't feel guilty, you should be happy it is working out.

But noone can tell me how to feel.

guilt is part of being a mother, and in my case, guilt has been a factor of mothering my son for every minute of his life. this is just another phase of those guilty feelings, and one more phase i will forever carry with me. it hits me in the strangest of moments:: how could you just let your son go live someplace else? he should be here with you. think about the abandonment he must feel. you didn't even get a chance to kiss him goodnight. i wonder if he brushed his teeth today? did anyone give him a hug when he got angry today? did he get angry today? nobody can give him love like you can. we're supposed to be a family.

and the guilt that hits me most often of all, and hardest, is the guilt i feel when i realize i am more at peace and more relaxed and less stressed than i have been in years.

there are no more arguments in the mornings, no more hiding things from papa to try to prevent another round of fights between the two of them. there are no more struggles between brothers that lead to physical violence and fear of someone really getting hurt. there are no more battles to worry about every day i open my eyes to face the morning sunshine, worry rather than the excitement of a new day on my face, hovering behind my eyelids. kaeden's living away from home has managed to lift all these issues. and in its place i feel guilt because i wasn't able to handle it all, because i wasn't able to make the changes needed to survive as a family living under one roof.

and yet, in that same moment, i feel peace wash over me. my son is happy, playing among friends, being cared for in a place where he isn't having so many struggles every day of his life. this is an opportunity for him to grow, to become more independent, for him to be discovered in a goverment system that will assure him a future (maybe not the future i dreamed of, but a future of his own without mama having to hover and smother him for the rest of his life), whatever that may mean. my son feels pride and i see that etched on his face every time i see him.

and our home, our haven? it is without anger, without the nervous energy fluttering forever around. it is a place my lil guy can wake up in the morning and walk down the stairs without worrying about being teased, without wondering if kaeden's meds have kicked in and he can enter the bathroom without his first words being "mmmmaaaaammaaaaa, kaeden......." the glint in kaeden's eyes showing off his plan to terrorize. jari can now walk down the steps, where i greet him when i hear his little pitter patter across the floor, with a smile and good morning, where he returns with a : good morning mama. which, had become non-existant as i struggled to bark out tasks and get it all done before the dread of the bus pulling up at our door managed to bring some sense of calm after the storm.

erwin has changed. in just 3 weeks, i see my husband returning to the easy-going man i first learned to love all those years ago. he comes home to a cleaner home, we eat dinner together without reminders to eat nice, or a mess covering the entire table. we relax with a game or a movie or a story in the evening before settling jari in for the night. we don't hear kaeden's feet trampling across the floor into the wee hours of the night, erwin getting more irritated as he hears furniture being shuffled across the floor at midnight after the tenth time of tucking kaeden in (or berating him) and telling him this is the last time. there are no more stolen treats littering the folds of the couch, or under the tv cvupboard. the smell of urine from wet diapers and bedding doesn't saturate the air. the laundry loads are halved.

so, all this peace in our home, it feels like freedom. but with that freedom comes regret. regret that our son can't be here to share this family home dream i have always envisioned. that we just couldn't cut it as parents of an autistic child.

there is yet another aspect to this. we did manage it. we made a decision for our son and our family which seem to be the ideal decision based with what path our lives led. none of us found relaxation and peace within the confines of our family, and now all of us seem to have discovered it. we tried our best (and sometimes our not so best) to make it work, but we couldn't. too many factors were involved to make a peaceful home. but the decision to let kaeden go has been met with the rewards of more harmony. for everyone.

the weekends are a time i treasure. though they bring about more stress and the normalcy of life as we have known it (arguments, fights, brotherly love, messes, but also kaeden's help, his hugs, his smiling eyes, his excited stories) when we are back together, we have had a chance to recharge, a chance to taste freedom, a cahnce to just be. all of us. and with that comes the knowledge that we can manage these days together, and we'll all have a little break again soon if it gets to be too much. the weeks are definitely easier. making the weekend easier as well.

i hope that over time my husband can learn to be more relaxed during the weekend as well. that there will come a time when he can bond with our son and forgive the mistakes. when he can be a dad and not a guard, when he can take a moment to show kaeden how much he cares, not in words but in actions. because he does care, as he has shown in his attendance at appointments, his vision for kaeden and our family, his living in stress and disorganisation. but towards kaeden himself, it has been and continues to be a struggle. erwin loves deeply and heartily, but his expression of his love is sometimes, and certainly for kaeden, difficult to discover and reel in. he is finding peace again, as a man, as a father, as a husband. i pray for the peace to open up and allow kaeden in.

so, how am i doing with the adjustment? it's a mixed media of emotions. but in general, i feel more myself and less niggling worry than i have in ages. i just have to come to terms that this is all okay. that i didn't let my son go, but opened up a new world for him, and our family in return. that my son is, and always will be my son. that though i may not get to kiss him goodnight every day of the week, my love for him shines through in the pain i have endured in letting him find himself. to just be kaeden.

the pain is opening up a new world of sunshine and rainbows and flowers filled with beautiful butterfly wings sparking in the sun. for all of us.

security of me and we

it's such a little something. that tiny place deep inside which gives you a simple promise that all is okay, that though there may be tiny setbacks along the way, the whole is still intact. that this is your life, do with it what you will, but through it all you'll come out on top.

my little promise has been taken away. my security has dissipated to a tiny trickle. my half full feels half empty. i'm not feeling assured that everything will be okay, that the setbacks aren't too big, that life will plow along and find me still standing strong.

and what is sad is that it isn't about me. as a mother, my whole includes the lives of my sons, as a wife, the life of my husband. there is a tiny piece of me who belongs only to me, but i am defined by my family. i no longer live as a single entity. i have this me of which can no longer be separated from we.

since my accident, there have been many questions filling me up inside. some are positive, some negative, but on the whole i feel grateful to be alive and feel an assurance that though the road is long, i will stand proud and tall in the end. though i may not once again be complete; my hand may never fully clasp a little hand in mine again, or pick up a grape to lift to my lips, or pull a load of fresh smelling clothes from the washer, that i am still standing and i will be okay.

but that same security i felt for my youngest son has now left me with a furrowed brow, my heart crumpled into a newspaper ball. he isn't the same child he was before my accident. he is fearful, he is nervous, he is obsessed. no longer is a paper laying on the table or a finished glass of milk a comfort of home. these are replaced with a need for extreme organisation, nothing standing in his view. curtains must be pulled tightly closed or he is uneasy. if my hand comes even close to resting on his body, he tenses up as his body shakes and a scream leaves his lips, nearly paralyzing. my hugs have stiffened him as he glances fearfully my way, trying to pull away before the effect of my love reaches through to him. where he used to love to play games, have tickle fights, win soccer matches against mommy, his newest fun when mama is in the house is sitting before the tv tuning out the fact that mama even exists. he no longer has a need for my attention, for my love, the security blanket i used to be. the ghosts that strip him of sleep cannot be fought away with my presence. my presence does not bring him comfort.

i try to pull him in. i play his favorite treftiball, and see glimpses of the little boy i knew and loved just 3 months ago. he smiles, he laughs, he runs. and then, in one instant as he catches a glimpse of my arm, or my hand happens to come too close as i try to kick, or for any other number of unknown reasons, he retreats...back to his little chair in front of the tv, the sound of my voice tuned out, the little area surrounding him completely free of clutter. he no longer looks at me, but through me.

on a car ride a few days ago, he asked me to sit in back with him. my heart did a quick flutter as i sat next to him, resting my 'good' hand on his lap. then, as i adjusted my position and my 'bad' hand came into his view, he screamed, tensed, and his demeanor towards me changed. he started hitting, being wild, couln't find the calm.

i am starting to feel really worried. the effect this accident has had on him is the fault of noone. yet it is guilt i feel, and each time i see the scar traveling across my wrist, all i see is the stripping of a bond between a mother and her son. with each painful movement i make during therapy, it is with the determination to gain back some trust from the little boy who once came to me for every little thing. it is with the hope that that promised place is restored, that we'll come through this still standing tall. because i am not just me, but i am we. and right now, the we feels broken. the we feels sad, fearful, uneasy and insecure. the me needs to find extra strength for the we.

What's Happening Around Here?

Life has been busy. I think that's good. It means that every day I have something to do, something to look forward to, something to motivate me. And because I have all this 'stuff' going on in my life, it also means I have less time to miss my son, which for such a major event, such a major change and happening, is good.



Here are the things that have been keeping my life busy.

• Kaeden has to be approved for financial aid through the government for his autism handicap once in the five years. To be approved for funding, we are required to visit a government appointed doctor who evaluates Kaeden, our family situation, and receives reports from all the differing organizations with whom we have contact and work with Kaeden. The paperwork for this is immense. Collecting all the reports from everyone, filling out the paperwork, and evaluating your home situation is also emotionally draining. Our appointment was this week. The doctor is arrogant, knowing he has total control over which category your child is placed, how much funding you will receive, and which services Kaeden is qualified to receive. He asks both parents as well as the child numerous questions as he quickly flips through all the reports you have spent weeks preparing. He doesn't want long-winded answers, preferring short and to the point. If you try to expand on a topic, he stops you short with a wave of his hand. As you speak, he writes notes and reads, giving you the impression he isn't listening. Your task is to make the situation as bad as possible to help your child qualify for services. You tell this doctor all your child's min-points while your child sits between you hearing you discuss all his weaknesses. It is no cup of tea with sugar. I'm glad it's over, but now anxiously await the judgement. Will our funding allow us to pay for a portion of Kaeden's residential facility? Will he be approved for a higher repayment for medical services and medication? Will his visits to the psychologist cost us only an arm, or an arm and leg? Will we receive a portion of his diaper costs back? Which organizations are we allowed to get help from, which tax rebates will we benefit from in exchange for sharing our life with a handicapped child?

It is mind-boggling to think that one doctor who has seen your son for 15 minutes in five years time can determine the outcome of all the above questions. But he can, and he does, and now we wait to hear how many points Kaeden received, how handicapped our son actually is in terms of a government description.

Here is my last blog post from our visit with this same doctor. http://tank95.blogspot.com/2006/09/handicapped.html

This time, I did NOT terrorize my son. This time, I joked with him, talked to him about school, and praised him when he wrote his name and address absolutely perfect. And, when we got back in the car, I still gave my son a treat. This time it wasn't to say "I'm sorry". This time it was just to say "I love you."

Okay, I was planning to tell you everything that's been happening, but my thoughts on this subject ran out of control (as usual). I won't discuss more today other than to say I just called the home where Kaeden is staying and they are very happy with how things are going there. He is doing well, seems to enjoy himself, and partcipates in all activities. He enjoys the companionship of both leaders and the other kids. They are starting a bedwetting program with him in hopes of conquering his nighttime head to toe pee issues which I am thrilled with and hope will work. He just seems to be really engaging, and though they expect problems to arise (as do we as he becomes more comfortable and familiar), until now he's been doing fantastic! Yeah! Talk about putting mama's mind at ease!!!

Home

Home is where the heart is. We've all heard that saying hundreds of times. Home, a place where you feel safe, loved, comfortable and at ease. It's the place you can always return, knowing its walls house a piece of you and your life. Home is home.

But what if, for instance, you move away. Say, maybe to a foreign country. Though home was a house, it now holds a different meaning. It is no longer just those four standing walls, but it becomes something much bigger. Maybe the town in which you lived, or even the country. Such as the sight of an American flag blowing in the breeze gives you a feeling of home. While at the same time, the four walls and roof under which you now live is also home. Your view of home is something slightly different once the security of what you have always known is removed. It isn't less or more, it just is. A different opinion of what home means, stemming from your current situation. Maybe you, as an adult, view home as your childhood home, while you've also created a home with your own family. Home just takes on a new meaning once our lives evolve.
Now, let's try on another situation. You are 14 years old and head to live in a residential facility during the week. On weekends, you return to your house and your family to live. What do you now consider home? Maybe your 14 year old self began life in America, then was moved to Europe without any control over the situation. You return yearly to America for an extended period of time. Does it feel as if you are returning home, though home took on a new meaning at the age of five? And when Friday rolls around and the bus sets you off at the front door of your current house, your mother greeting you at the door, do you feel as if you are home? When Monday morning rolls around and the same bus picks you up to return you to your new living quarters at your school for the week, do you feel as if you are home? Home is where the heart is. But where does the heart lie when such a situation as this arises in your world? Is your heart split into enough pieces to engage each of these homes? Or is your heart left behind in the one place you truly feel most comfortable, safe, at ease, and loved?

I'm questioning "home" today. I need to question it and conclude that home is where the heart is, and the heart remains with your family, those people whom love you most. Your heart doesn't split, but expands, as home takes on yet another new view.

This week Kaeden was taken to his new residential care facility at his current school. He has his own bedroom in a very clean, cozy, comfortable house. He lives with 9 other boys ranging from 9-16 years old. There are two attendants on duty at all times, acting as friends, companions, leaders, guides in this home. He has his list of chores, his new set of rules, while he can also snuggle up with his own comfy stuffed animals, his slippers on his feet wrapped in his own blankie from babyhood. He goes from Monday-Friday and returns home to me on Friday afternoon.
I don't know what home means to Kaeden. I'm not even sure what it means to me, being housed in a different country without my extended family nearby. But home, this place I find myself most often, with my own messes and my own clothes, my own little family and the love and experiences we share, really is home. It comes down to a choice I made. I wanted to be with the man I loved. I chose to make a home here in Europe with him and our children. My 'home', America or Wyoming or my childhood home, all remain close in my heart, and I still consider them home as well. My heart has definitely expanded to accompany all of my homes.

I hope that when Kaeden is getting his stuff packed up on Friday, he'll tell his attendents "Goodbye, see ya Monday, I'm going HOME!" Because no matter where my son houses his body between four brick walls, home is where the heart is. And Kaeden's heart is right here with his mama, always and forever, home. Yet, though it stings, I also hope as I kiss him goodbye at the door of our family home on Monday morning, he will tell me, "See ya Friday mama. I'm headed home." (Notice the exclamation point on Friday and the period on Monday). I want my son to be comfortable, safe, loved and at ease. I want him to feel that no matter where he lives, he can feel at home. But, I also want him to know, that no matter what, home is where the heart is. My heart and his, intertwined in a web of love and commitment, no matter where our bodies find us.

Eight.

This morning we headed to Hasselt for a soccer tournament. It was a long day watching games, but something I always enjoy. It was the last soccer I will share with my seven-year-old. Tomorrow, August 30, he turns eight. Eight already. Where does the time go?

I watched my lil bug tear around the field, doing his darndest to keep a win in sight. Playing as a stand-in for another team is hard work. What is their offence? How do they play defence? Where do I fit into the team? He did a good job, playing with a team a step or two below the level of his own. He scored, he passed, he stopped balls from becoming goals. He managed to run the entire field trying to keep the team in the lead. And in the three games they played, the team won two of the three. Quite an achievement at the Coca-Cola Cup.

Throughout the years Jari has been a part of my life, soccer has been a part of more than half. He thrives being on the field, shooting penalties at home, joining kids during play while on vacation. He never complains about having to go to practice, instead asking when he gets to go again. His favorite clothing is covered with soccer clubs or soccer balls, his shoes always a pair that can easiest kick a ball. His bedroom is a shrine to his collection of medals and trophies housed in decorations from his beloved Ajax. You will never see him leave the house to go to school without a ball at his feet, and his pump (or the 5 we have purchased since his arrival) is one of his best friends. He waits for games to be broadcast on tv, asks for scores when he awakens in the morning, and can name the majority of the big players, their home country, and for which team they play. He can also name all of the flags of those countries. And, lately, he can tell you how much they make playing his favorite game in the world.

With this newest information, Jari frequently tells us what his plans are for all the money he'll be making one day when he hits the big time. His villa and his cars, the house he'll buy mama and papa so we can watch his games. He has big plans, that little boy of mine.

My little bug, at nearly eight, your dreams are big. Tomorrow, when the sun brightens the earth, you will awaken and be part of this great big world as an eight-year-old. Your dreams, tomorrow, will still be bigger than you, but knowing how stubborn you are, how much you love the game, and how much talent you already show, these dreams have every possibility of becoming a reality. Stay with your dreams, my little boy. Make them as big as you dare, and work hard to bring them to life. If your dreams remain in soccer, mama will be there to cheer you on. If they take another turn in life, mama will be there to cheer you on. Your dream is my dream, my sparkly little son. I love being here to share it all with you, watching you grow, mature, evolve as a little tot into the eight year old I know today.

Thank you for giving mama a reason to stand in the crowd and cheer, my voice loud and excited, calling your name from the sidelines as I see you look my way and smile at the big thumbs up I send your way. I will always be by your side, guiding you to be your very best. Today, winning the games at the Coca-Cola Cup was just one little trickle of who I know you will become. Eight years old. Happy Birthday from your very biggest fan!

flight change

thursday we were in ready mode. kaeden was heading to the airport for his arrival home on friday. i was so happy i'd have my little boy back with me, though i was a bit leary about how i was going to manage it all with just one arm and a lot of pain and tiredness. still, after not having seen my son for a month, i was more than ready for one of his tight squeezes...especially after realizing how quickly life changes and how very grateful i am to be here to receive another hug.

the phone rang. it was my parents. "tera, what would you say if we just kept kaeden another month?" they nonchalantly asked. it threw me for a grinding loop. it was so unexpected and i was completely baffled. "well, he has a bunch of appointments in the comin weeks," i answered. "and you don't have enough meds for him for another month. and i don't think we can change his ticket. and..." and, i wanted to say, i miss my son. i want him back home. but i didn't get the real reason for my hesitation out before:

"tera, we think it would be easier for you to heal if he stays with us. he's having a good time, we love having him, and he hasn't been any trouble at all. it's so important for you to not do anything if you want to recover. this would just make it easier." my parents chimed in.

and as i thought about everything that could help me right now, i came to the conclusion that they are right. there can be no fights to break up, no extra laundry to oversee, no extra kaeden messes to clean up. but, it was all so quick and unexpected. they were already half-way to the airport. "can i talk to kaeden a minute?" i asked.

"hi mama." i heard my heart twitter a bit. "hey riley, so, what do you think about staying with gramma and grampa for a little longer?"

"I think I am gonna stay here for you mama. so you can get all better. it will just be so much easier if i stay in america," he answered. his adult-like tone and answer was obvious he'd been eavesdropping on adult conversations. but, it made me feel confident that he was happy with this proposition. "And, " he added "I'm having fun here." that sounds more like my kid, i thought!

so, as i talked to erwin my parents called the airline asking about change fees and ticket surcharges. after i spoke to erwin, i called them back. "Well, if you're sure..." I wavered. "I think it would probably help me out more than anything else you could do." and that's when i heard my mom cancel my son's flight from her cell phone. with a sigh, i told them "thank you."

so, my son is off to play with the deer and antelope in the great wyoming wilderness for just a little longer. he's happy, my parents are happy, and i'm getting used to the idea. seriously, it is a big help. that hug will have even more meaning when i get it another month down the road.