Back From Reprieve

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where Is GOD?

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

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

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

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

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

Autism and Psychiatric Hospital

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Girlfriends

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gentle

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mom

Dear Mom,

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am mama.

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

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

Happy Mother's Day Mom.  And thank you.

Freedom

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and I have felt crippled without a car.

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

Nearly Every Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Meeting of Hope

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stomach Pain

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Day Lasts Too Long

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fat

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Geocaching

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

www.geocaching.com

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

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

un family act

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

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

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

e hunt!

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

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

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

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

Happy Geocaching from tank95!

Cliques

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wedded Bliss

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life Is Fragile

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

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

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

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

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

Working Together

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Humiliation

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Marriage

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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