Illuminations, Complications and Explanations

Illuminations

We spent 3 days of last week visiting, for assorted amounts of time, with a child psychologist trying to figure Conner out. I had a parent’s only meeting on Monday to get my insights and concerns. Wednesday was an hour and a half of testing for Conner. And Friday was evaluation and discussion. We threw 4 things on the table as possibilities as to why his behavior was erratic and he struggled academically; autism, depression, anxiety and ADHD.

And the winner was…ADHD.

Dr. Smith shared that he though Conner was very bright and quite capable…but very easily distracted and impulsive which led to inconsistent academic performance and behavior. Some of the depressive and anxiety symptoms were related to the ADHD since it probably is frustrating to feel out of control and like your just waiting to get in trouble for something you don't even mean to do... and decreases self esteem. Since home schooling is not a plausible option for me at this point in my life, we will be medicating. But a diagnosis gives us tools and parameters to work with. So that’s helpful.

Complications

My kids talked me into taking them swimming at the Y Saturday evening. I sat on the side and read and watched. 5 minutes into the playing, Ashlyn rushed over to me crying, “I hit my chin.” I put my book down. “Let’s see sweetie.” I was expecting a bump, bruise or scratch because she was only slightly whimpering.

Nah. Gaping inch long laceration.

Sweet.

I remained calm. “Okay, so everyone out of the pool. We need to go NOW. Lifeguard, bandage please.”

Mom and Dad were gone, so I called a neighbor and asked if the other 2 could come hang there while we made a trip to the ER. (Thank you Maddens!)

So she did need stitches. She was significantly less than thrilled about this news. The nurse asked if I would be comfortable holding her body down while he held her head still and the doctor did the sutures. I kind of laughed, smiled, and said “She’s my youngest of four.” Nurse; “Ah, well, then you’ll be just fine.” The doctor entered, and asked Nurse Mark, “Do we need to get someone else to help hold her?” Nurse Mark: “Nah. It’s her youngest of four.” Doctor nods knowingly. “Well okay then. Let’s do this!”

I just found the whole exchange amusing. I guess there are some “less experienced” parents who have had a problem restraining their child. Nope. Not me. Give me a squirmy kid and a reason to make it stop and I can bring it.

She screamed for 2 minutes while they numbed and washed her. Then she lay quietly while she was sewn together, telling the nurse and doctor how she was hungry and had been promised McDonald’s when we left.

Now she thinks she’s cool.

She went to school on Monday and I guess didn't say a thing to her teacher. I saw him Tuesday, and he told me he didn't even notice until halfway through the day she had a bandaid on. He asked her what happened and she simply said "I hit my chin on the pool at the Y." He jokingly said "Did you have to get stitches?" He was shocked when she nodded her head yes. "Really? Let me see." So he pulled back the bandage and (in his words) "Sure enough...there were three of the gnarliest stitches I'd ever seen right there!"

Happy stitches Lyni Lou!

Explanations

While we were waiting at the ER to be called back, Ashlyn sat quietly and nervously holding her raggedy pink blankie and a medium sized stuffed dog of the brown and white variety. I knew his name was Candy Cane, but had never thought to ask why. I should have thought about it, because all of her other animals are aptly and obviously named; a dinosaur named “Diney”, a duck named “Waddles”, a pink cat named “Pink Cat” and about half a dozen other animals whose names are Lily because it’s her favorite name. But a floppy brown and white dog named Candy Cane makes little sense.

So I took the opportunity to ask her about it. She quickly held up one of his paws. There, on the end, was a piece of nasty candy cane stuck to the fur. “See? It’s been there since last Christmas.”

Ahhhh. I see.

Measurable

So last night I went to a wrestling banquet with Paul. It was to celebrate those who had excelled and recognize those who had tried. Perrysburg is a good wrestling school, and they had a lot to celebrate this year in terms of individual and team excellence. Paul was a first year JV wrestler. He won 2 matches all season. We knew none of those accolades would be his. But we went anyway, to celebrate with the others…and eat food.

All of the wrestlers decided to squish around 2 tables while the parents scattered around the. So 24ish boys of no mean size squashed around 2 round tables. Paul is one of the bigger boys, but he’s not too pushy and as space ran out he just kind of hovered at the edges. I noticed as they got their food and came back, he’d managed to join the main body of the group, so I continued talking to my own table mates without any concern.

I had to leave early for another meeting, and as I got up to throw away my plate I looked around to catch his eye and say good bye. He wasn’t at either one of the wrestler tables. He wasn’t in the food line. I looked around the commons area a little confused, and finally found him sitting with another boy on the perimeter of the room.

I was upset. I was frustrated with his teammates for pushing him to the outside when he just wanted to be included and they could be so thoughtless. I was sad for my son, because I never want him to feel as if he is unwanted or alone. It is not a feeling I would ever choose for him to feel. I didn’t know what to say or do for him to take away the reproach of the situation.

He saw me getting up, and stood, offering to take the plates of the other boy and his mother, who was also sitting at the table. He met me by the trash and put an arm around my shoulders.

“I’m sorry you’re alone.” I whispered so no one else would hear me.

He looked surprised for a moment, and then smiled down at me. “Oh. No mom. I went and sat there because HE was alone.”

I hugged my son without shame, in front on his teammates and his coaches and all the other parents.

“I know you aren’t getting any special awards tonight. But I am proud of you. I am more proud of you then I can even say. You are a good man.”

My son does not excel in areas that are easily measurable. He’s not at the top of his class academically. He isn’t athletic enough to get noticed by his peers. He can’t sing or play instruments with astounding proficiency.

And that’s okay. I don’t feel the need to press him to be better in any of those arenas. Because who is becoming, I believe, is a great person and a good man despite his “measurable” deficiencies. I feel blessed and humbled to be his mother.

The All Kid Channel, All The Time...seriously, like 24/7...

First in tonight's line-up: Maryn Kate. 10 years old...almost 11...somewhat precocious... somewhat obnoxious...

Quotes:

Maryn: Mom, I know how to tell if a woman is pregnant or just really, really fat.

Me: Let’s just keep that little skill to yourself shall we?

Maryn: “We got a “goody bag” from growth and development today. I looked through it. There isn’t any candy. Everyone was disappointed. But there is a pad that looks like it’s for an American Girl doll.”

We were in Walmart and Maryn pipes up: "Mom? Are Aunt Jemima and Uncle Ben, like, together?" Me (laughing): "Why do you ask that?" Maryn: "Well, one's and aunt, one's an uncle and they're both black and old looking. So I just figured..."

You know how at the end of pharmaceutical ads they talk fast and low about possible side effects? As we kind of half listened in the car, Maryn suddenly perked up and asked. "Did they just say 'May cause excessive smiling?'". It was excessive SWELLING. Although friend pointed out the former could be true if it was ad for Botox...

Next we have the lovely Ashlyn Erma. She's just a bit of a stinker. My friend calls her the rabid squirrel. Yep. That about sums it up. You can see it in her eyes...

Quotes:

Me, to Ashlyn. “I like to hold you because you’re soft and squooshy.” Ashlyn; “It’s my cupcake jammies. They make me cuddly.”

She's more like a commercial instead of sitcom. :)

And the next show is Conner Vaughn. He tries so hard to be good and yet is so good at being a pain in the *beep*. What? What was that for? All I was gonna say was pain in the backside! Sheesh. Stupid censors.
Quotes:

Me: "Conner, can you not watch that now?" Conner: "Why?" Me: "Because it’s obnoxious." Conner: "What's obnoxious mean?" Me: "Annoying." Conner (With not too hidden glee in his voice): "Oooooo. I LIKE annoying things!"

Nurse (to Conner); "Do you get easily distracted?" Crumples face, "Well sometimes at school, it's like I...hmmm, I don't know." Pause. "Wait, what was the question again?" (Let's go ahead and mark yes on that shall we?)

And finally, the debonair Paul in a feature length film! He's the taller one on the right...

Co -starring, for one dance only...the incomparable Dayna M.

Quotes:

Tonight at dinner I dared Paul to eat 3 pieces of fruit I had "dropped" in mustard. He refused. The girls gave him crap. I said, "Its okay girls. He's just being a big fat wussy man." Paul: "Well, I don't see any of you eating it." Maryn:"We're being big fat wussy women. But thats okay, because girls are supposed to be wussy." Paul: "Wait. Did you just call yourself fat?"

Maryn was frustrated over her schedule for impending middle school.

Maryn:” Grrr. I wish I just knew my period schedule!” Paul: "Isn’t that like once a month?”

"Mom, I'd really like to go see a battle re-enactment. Its on my list of things I want to do before I die. Like go on a mission, get married, have kids...and discover the lost elfin civilization in Atlantis, establish contact and bring peace to all people."

Did I say feature length? Huh. Guess a lot of THAT ended up on the cutting room floor...

Puzzle

So there is something that has been kind of swimming around in my brain. Which, knowing me, could be good or bad. I have a friend who is only 3 years younger than I am, and she and her hubby are expecting their first. I am ecstatic for them. They are good friends of mine, I enjoy their company. We come over to their house late, stay late, and play games. I can, because my kids are old enough for me to do that. I am in that phase of my life. When this beautiful little one is born, it will change their lives. I know it will. Because I’ve been there. I rode that pony already thank you very much. And here is what the race will look like. Gone are the friends over until midnight times, because you’re grabbing precious sleep whenever the baby is sleeping. Gone are the stacks of games of videos because you must baby proof the house (it takes all of one time for some finding little fingers to unorganize your alphabetically arranged DVD’s to move them to higher ground or another room with a door…and games have itty bitty pieces that little ones can choke on because everything MUST be explored with the mouth).

I don’t fit into that world. Not really. Not anymore. Because I have a son who, in 6 weeks time, will be turning 16. When it comes to kids, I am not even swimming in the same pond as they are.

And even the singles, although we a share a social situation, have yet to experience the joys of parenthood. I plan around concerts, homework and lessons…they plan around themselves. I get 5 people up and out the door in the morning. They get themselves up. This is not a bad thing. It’s just a different mentality.

So I try and hang out with people who have kids my age. And they are married. Happily married. And have no time to spare for me really because any rare spare time they find is invested in their spouse (As it should be!). And they politely invite me along on their outings, and I sit there smiling and feeling very fifth wheel even though they try not to. I can’t go out with my married friends who have kids my age because I’m not a couple. “Let’s invite Chiara over for games! Wait…we need 4 players…”

I feel very awkward…the “social situation” version of tween I suppose. I really don’t have all things in common with any one group. Three of the things that classify and define my situation right now are also mutually exclusive if you really want to fit in. “Single” and “Mom” and “30’s”. I don’t dislike being any one of them at once. Just maybe not all of them at the same time.

The Fifth Year: A Meeting With The Master Cartographer

My take on the last five years is different than that of my children. I have been able to reflect both on what I have lost and what I have gained, which is a point they have not yet been able to get to. Mostly because I think they honestly believe they have gained nothing in the loss of their father. And for them, perhaps, this is right. But I need to start by being honest.

I miss being married. I like being married. But I do not miss the marriage Dave and I shared. His life was riddled with so many struggles that were both physical and mental. He was never quite the man he wanted to be. And he lamented that. He wanted to so much more than the sum of the path he had been given to travel. Being a part of his life was difficult. But when he was okay, it was really a lot of fun. And I knew he loved me. But I think he was just tired of the fight. It had been his battle for all of his life. And yet he accomplished so much despite the issues he owned; he was a missionary and a college graduate. A husband and a father. All things I think most people in his life would have never expected of him, and I am proud of him for his accomplishments.

He is no longer that weakened person. He is who he always wanted to be. And I am insanely happy for him because I love him. I know this is true. How? When I arrived at the hospital that night, after I was told and then saw his body just to let it sink in…I sat in a room with my father. Numb. And floating in a surreal fog. And I felt him come to me to say goodbye. And words passed through my mind I knew were his; “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you this way and I’m sorry for all that I did to you. I didn’t mean to.” Besides my happiness for my beloved David, I am happy for us too. He is still a part of our lives and does what he can for us from the other side. My children, and I for that matter, have a built in guardian angel with us. And he is there when he can be, because I know he is busy. There are moments when we know he is near. Ask anyone who has been to one of my kids baptisms J

I know this is the way to was supposed to be. For him. For us.

But it sure made a mess of the map I had all laid out for my life.

Those weeks following David’s death 5 years ago were times of choices and reflections for me. Here I had been given a new map from the Father. I certainly didn’t ask for it, but I felt like the previous map had been torn from my hands and burned. It was simply no longer an option. And the topography on this new map was so vague, and unknown and frightening…a wilderness of choices mostly. So true to form (I am my nature headstrong and a planner), I came up with a plan, somewhat independent of my Father in Heaven, of the journey I wanted to take in this wilderness and chose a destination that seemed positive, even righteous. Five years seemed like a good measure of my efforts, and I would return and report at that time (as it were) on the progress of my journey and whether or not I had reached my destination. But I made a commitment to consult with he who created the map, the master cartographer, about each bend in the road, each mountain and boulder, valley and river I faced. Despite my best intentions, what I truly wanted was the best path. And I knew who already had that mapped out perfectly. Although I thought I knew exactly what I wanted, more than that, I wanted my plans to align closely with His.

Suffice it to say that as my 5 year evaluation drew near, I was questioning my journey. The destination I had pinpointed years ago was on the other side of the wilderness…and included a husband and nuclear family and did NOT include being 35 and living with my parents without a full time job. I was worried that I had gone all “Children of Israel” on the plan and was being forced to wander the desert out of disobedience and haughtiness and lack of faith. I was terrified I had missed my mark because I had been a less then diligent daughter of God and had missed some key turns in the path because I simply was not listening from the inside out, but instead from the outside in.

So I went to the place where I knew I would feel closest to my Father and my Savior, the temple. For they are the Master Cartographers, they made the map I was given. They make everyone’s map, individually and with great care specific to the strengths and weaknesses of each precious soul. I was ready to answer for what I had done with mine.

Feeling like a failure, I went ready to be chastised. To be set right. To be redirected. So I pulled myself away from the world and prayed quietly and simply to try and open my heart to the promptings of the Spirit. I reflected carefully on the last 1825 days of my life and pondered the steps I had taken that had brought me to this point. And I asked what I had done wrong to have been lost in the apparent wilderness still.

And the answer surprised me.

I wasn’t lost at all. I was exactly where the Lord wanted me to be. All the choices I had made were the ones he had wanted me to make (for the most part…the big ones anyway). I was progressing in the manner He had intended for me to progress when he gave me the map. And what was more, I hadn’t actually ever been in the wilderness at all.

I was surprised but satisfied. My thoughts immediately turned towards my future and I sought answers and direction for this yet unrevealed part of my map…a job, a spouse, growing children. What should I do? What path should I take? How do I stay out the wilderness?

The answer was simple and perfect; “Worry less. Live more.”

I do worry. A lot. Almost to the point of obsession and often to the point of sleeplessness. And here was the One who knows me better than anyone else telling me to basically chill out.

It was as if He was saying, “I have taken care of you so far. And every time I have given you a step and you have taken it with faith and courage, you have drawn closer to me and to the destination I had in mind for you all along. Give it Me. Let Me take care of it. You know I will. And just move forward and enjoy the moments instead of worrying about where that moment will lead. I promise they will lead to joy if you let me guide you. Joy is all I ever intended for you from the beginning. Worry less about the future and how to get there. Live more in the moment and relish the peace and joy.”

I felt peace. And the words from a beloved hymn cam quickly to my mind… the verses perfectly summarizing the chain of thoughts and conclusions.

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide;
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me.

I need Thy presence every passing hour;
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter’s pow’r?
Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness;
Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.

This is what 5 years has meant to me…”I triumph still if Thou abide with me.”

The Fifth Year: The Children

Fair warning…you may want to grab a Kleenex.

Last Friday marked a rather significant milestone for me and my children. It was the 5^th anniversary of their father’s passing. At the time, they were 10, 5, 3, and 1. Ashlyn and Conner have no actual memories of their dad, just borrowed ones from others or from home videos or from pictures. For me, this day has meant one thing. For my children, quite another. Let’s start with the children.

At the grave sight the day of the funeral.

For them, it is what they have missed. They want a dad more than anything. They have never known a life in memory with a father, and for them it just screams of injustice. It’s never fun to have to tell someone your dad died before you can even remember him. And then to watch all the other kids your age enjoy their fathers and have not even a memory of a moment to draw on. For Conner and Ashlyn, the grieving process has just begun, because it’s finally something they can understand. It comes in bits and pieces and spurts and we try and deal with it as needed. But again, its what they have missed by the simple thing of being fatherless. I figured it up; 1800 goodnight kisses (Unless your Ashlyn who demands 8 per night and then it’s more like 10,000), 2000 bedtimes stories, 30 birthdays, 2 baptisms, 2 ordinations, 250 family nights, 4000 family prayers, 15 first days of school, and 2 daddy daughter dances.

And those are just simple moments.

Things that most people take for granted, precious jewels of time that most of us cast aside because they seem so common place. And yet it is in those simplest of moments that lifetimes are created. And lifetimes are lost.

My children have lost a lifetime.

Maryn wrote this poem a few days before the anniversary.

February 18^th

February 18^th is my

least favorite day

It reminds me of

horrible things it

reminds me of

my Dear Daddy’s

Death and how

he is no longer

on this earth with

me. I know he is

safe with the all-

mighty god who toke

his last and long breath,

but there I

stand by his beautiful

grave asking him the

best.

These pictures were all snapped by my aunt. I find it significant that this one was on the CD she gave me.

The day after Dave died, I had the job of telling my children their dad was not coming back. Conner and Ashlyn were too young to understand. But Maryn did. I pulled her on my lap, and shared with her the news. Tears began to roll down her cheeks, and she looked up at me as her arms wound around my neck.

"Will he still be my daddy in the resurrection?"

I replied that he would. She pulled me closer and whispered;

"Then I will be okay."

He died that we might live again. That those relationships we build and hold most dear in this life might still be associations we keep in the life after this. The pure and simple faith of a 5 year old who had just lost her father taught me that. It will all be okay. Because He lives, and loves us, it is all truly okay.

Quote of the day

Its been awhile, so here it is: QUOTE OF THE DAY- Paul "Mom, grandma...if you were stuck on a deserted island and could have any three resources, what would you choose? And that doesn't count water or vegetation. And pigs ...pigs count as vegetation."