England

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

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

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

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

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

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

College

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How To Act

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dots of Goings On

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Health Issues

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gumball Soccer

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Me and My Man

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

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

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

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

It Hurts

It hurts.

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

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

I watch him without him knowing.

I watch him, and it hurts.

Do you have everything? I ask

A mama and her son.

Yes, I wrote it all down, he says

And I check his list.

You need your coat I say

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

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

He pulls his backpack on his back.

He puts his coat on as I hand it to him

And his hand fleetingly touches mine

A mama and her son.

His touch makes me ache, it hurts

A stabbing pain in my heart

As he reaches towards me for a kiss

A kiss, something you do when you say goodbye

For me, a promise of my love

Tender lips touching

A mama and her son.

It's Saturday night, time to go

The sky just beginning to turn dark

As is my spirit as I hug him to me

His coat and his backpack covering

His body I long to feel in my arms.

It hurts, and tears fill my eyes

But will not fall, cannot fall

I must be brave, have courage and faith

This is best, this is what he needs

Goodbye my son, I love you.

And the door closes as he glances back towards me

Seeing the tears threatening to fall

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

And as the latch closes tight, I hurt.

And one tear falls as I turn towards the kitchen

To where there is light

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

This is best, he needs this, he wants this

He loves this.

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

And it hurts.

Doctor Mommy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Driving

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

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

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

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

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

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

Real Women

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good Morning

The little king leaves our bed

It's just you and me

The sun shining through the window

Morning wakes us gently.

I reach out to touch you

Feel your skin beneath my hand

The warmth overcomes me

As it begins to expand.

It isn't just how much I love you

Or a good morning kiss

Your touch brings me closer

Do they call this wedded bliss?

I hear the day beginning

Outside our warm nest

Car motors running, people talking

Yet I forget all the rest.

Your hands encase me tightly

I feel happiness begin to spread

This is the way to start the morning

Two hearts dancing in our bed.

The alarm clock shrills out the time

Turn it off, I can't let go

I don't want to lose the warmth

This feeling all aglow.

Yet the sun shines now brighter

It's time to start the day

Hesitantly with a final sigh

The pleasure falls away.

I stand to face the sunshine

A smile on my face

Your touch has brought me closest

To my very favorite place.

Japan and Natural Disasters

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tea and Comfort

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

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

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

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

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

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

Home Movies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vacation with Autism

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Speaking Of Jari

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alive at the Park

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bunches of Stuffs

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

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

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

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

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

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

Merry Christmas

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