Thank GOD for Church Camp!

Well, today I was in tears again, but “happy” tears!  Two of my sons are in Vacation Bible School, which is a camp that many churches have for one week in the summer — entirely run on a volunteer basis.  They get the curriculum from a national organization, so the same program is being run all over the country, all by volunteers.

I talked to the Director about taking my special needs son for the week at camp.  (They sort of know him from Sunday school;  we just started attending this church.)  She was more than willing to try.  I convinced her that he needed his own “person/aide” for it to be a successful week, but that it could be an 11 or 12 year old, not necessarily an adult.  He just needs that little bit extra supervision, or he will throw off the adult-to-child-ratios.   They arranged for him to have an aide, and she was about 12 to 14 years old.  She looked a bit nervous as I explained my son to her . . . but when I came to pick him up, she was all smiles!  She said that he had a fabulous time!  (which is nice to know, since he can’t talk and tell me that himself)  He even danced up on stage with his group!

So, thank God for VBS!  I am so grateful for the volunteers, the church, the whole thing!!  I am grateful for a week of sanity, where my son gets to do something organized and social and away from mommy.  Thank you, Lord, for fabulous people with big, caring hearts!!!

(By the way, my older “normal” son, had a fabulous time, too!)

Courting Couples

My husband and I plucked our family from the midwest 3 years ago to come live in sunny Colorado.  It has been a fantastic decision for a million reasons.  We did, however, leave lots of family and friends behind.  So, we’ve been looking, and finding, some great friends here.  We often muse at the funny “process” couples go through in becoming friends.  It’s completely natural, and most people do it, we just think it’s funny to talk about it.  So, here goes:

One of you meets someone at some event;  usually it’s me (the woman/mom), because I’m at all the kids’ stuff, and quite frankly, I’m an off-the-charts extrovert.  I crave companionship, conversation, and  . . . just . . . people.  So, I meet someone.   We’ll talk, maybe run into each other at one of the schools, the grocery store, the soccer field, etc.  Eventually, one of us will throw out the idea of “getting together”.  {That’s Step 1.}  Sometimes it’s a coffee and kid thing, it might be a bike thing (cycling is HUGE in Colorado), it might even be a ski-during-the-week thing (another benefit of living here…), and sometimes it’s even a lets-meet-at-the-McDonald’s Playland-with-the-kids thing.  Whatever form it takes, it’s a “thing”, a “gathering”, and a chance to get to know each other.

Let’s say it goes well.  You’re on to Step 2, which is either to do it again, or, if you’re feeling really good about each other, you might move on to  . . . Happy Hour.  That way, you get a few drinks in you, you really relax, the conversation might go a little deeper and a bit riskier, and you’re in each other’s home.  The husband might even come home from work and meet the “new” woman in your life.  Then, you can get his feedback on her after she leaves.  (What did you think of her?  Wasn’t she cool?  Did you notice how well our kids played with each other?)

You’re ready for Step 3.  Involving the husbands.  Sometimes, it’s a group/party situation, where you say, “hey, let’s invite the _______’s to join us at ________.”  In these situations, there are always “buffer couples” to help out, just in case your husband doesn’t click with her husband.

Sometimes, however, you’re feeling really good about the other woman, and you skip the party/buffer thing, and go right for dinner — one couple with one couple.  Restaurants can be a safer choice, because dinner can go quickly if you need it to.  Yet, the benefit to the home is that you can involve the children;  this works well if you already know that the kids get along.  In this case, if it’s not going well for the men, you can always pull the old “we’ve got to get going — the kids are melting down and need to go to bed.”  So, either way, restaurant or home, the evening can be a long one or a short one.

Keep in mind that whether or not the evening works — there are absolutely NO hard feelings, here, it’s just that not all men click with each other just because their wives do.  (and it’s SUCH a bummer when you do, and they don’t…)  The question is, are you ready for Step 4?

Step 4 is simple.  If they invited you to dinner, are you going to return the invite and have them over — as a couple?  If you invited them, are they going to, in turn, invite you over — as a couple?   Or, is the relationship going to turn into a great, daytime, woman-to-woman and kid-to-kid relationship.  Either way, you’ve made a great friend, and so have your kids.  So, it’s not like anyone really loses in these situations.  It’s just that it’s so much fun to find that “couple” that you can really hang out with as families.  (I’m not even going to get into when you want to move on to Step 4, and they don’t  . . . that can be an awkward situation, and I don’t think it happens that often.  Usually, if you think you all clicked, you did.)

We have had the benefit of moving on to Step 4 many times since moving here.  We have truly met some fantastic people!  Some of my women friends are just that –  women friends whom I adore, and I treasure spending time with them.  Some of my friends are couple friends, and I/we adore and treasure them, too!  People have all kinds of friends in their lives:  work friends, mommy friends, neighbor friends, church friends, athletic-team friends, parents-of-your-kids-friends’ friends, school friends, etc., etc.  . . . and of course there are those lifelong friends from growing up, high school, college, etc.  We’re not all meant to be BFFs, but it sure is nice to have at least one or two of those in my life.

Right now, in the stage of life that I am in, we really love having “couple friends”.  So, here’s to making it through Step 4!!

Propping Bottles

So, I’m really trying to stop nursing my 4 month old son.  We’re almost “weaned”.  I just can’t handle the hormone surges, on top of the PPD and all.  I hope my son understands.  : )  I’ve already found it easier to sleep without a bra and bra pads, but this morning was the first morning that I awoke without rock-hard breasts.  Many of you know what I mean by that . . . Anyways, I’m already finding, after just a few days, that bottle feeding simply works better with 4 kids for me.  {I’m emphasizing the “for me”, because you need to know one thing about me before we go any further:  after having a “biter” in child #1 ~ later to find out she has Tourette’s Syndrome ~ and now, a special needs child whose #1 hobby is hitting, kicking, and knocking kids over, on top of the craziness of having 4 kids with no help  — I do NOT judge!!  Although, I do reserve the right to be opinionated . . .}

So, I’m bottle feeding my 4 month old.  Here’s the interesting thing — I’m already “propping up” bottles with blankets.  It’s awesome!  I can handle child #3 (the special needs child) going after the other two kids, among other things;  I can handle the older 2 kids fighting, I can actually, physically intervene without yelling.  (pan the camera to me sitting on the couch nursing & yelling at my other kids to STOP _______!)  So, I’m finding relief in bottle feeding.  BUT . . . I find it interesting that I went from this totally intimate and bonding thing like feeding my baby from my own body, to propping up bottles.  Isn’t that weird?  I mean, there’s nothing special or sacred about sucking down formula from a bottle that’s propped up on a baby blanket, is there?  It’s not like he doesn’t see me all day long or anything, it’s just that, I don’t know . . . I’m so replaceable.   We get so hung up on the breast-feeding thing, and other than “nipple confusion”, he doesn’t really care how he gets fed.  He just wants to eat!  Sometimes it scares me just how “trainable” our children are . . .

In any event, I’ll check in about the PPD in a few days.  Maybe the lack of nursing will help??  Propping bottles sure has!

Does Pirate Booty meet a food group?

My 3 year old is obsessed with Pirate Booty. (For those of you who don’t know what that is, it’s an organic cheese puff — basically, snack food.) We were introduced to it by the therapists at his special needs camp because it dissolves so quickly in your mouth. You see, when my special needs son was starting to eat, he puked up EVERYTHING! I mean, everything!! Baby food, cereal, cheerios . . . you name it, I cleaned it up off of the floor, off of his clothes, off of my clothes, etc. (I suppose my dogs helped with the floor . . .) So, these therapists suggested trying Pirate Booty, because it was highly unlikely he would even swallow it, before it dissolved. They were right. So, we fed him Pirate Booty. Again and again and again and AGAIN. Now, almost 2 years later, it’s still one of his favorite snacks.

The thing is, even thought my son is almost 4 years old, he can’t talk. So, we were thrilled when he showed absolutely ANY attempt at communication, even if it was just to ask for Pirate Booty. We did sign language for a while, but now he refuses to sign. He WANTS to talk. We have tried picture cards. (That’s where the speech therapist took pictures of every “regular” thing in his life: foods, people, toys, etc. ) We put the picture cards on a magnetic board for him to use. Well, every half hour or so, my son would go to the board, pick the card with Pirate Booty on it, and bring it to mommy or daddy. Being good parents who do exactly what the therapists tell us to do, we’d get it for him. (We’re supposed to reward proper behavior . . . and encourage/teach him that by using the cards, we understand him.) So, after a while, we took the Pirate Booty card off of the board. No go for my son. He’d stare at the board, point at it, and then whine with a confused look on his face. (yes, we all know he was thinking, “where the hell did they put the booty card?”) So much for using picture cards. And so much for trying to avoid Pirate Booty.

So, my question is this, if we give our kids cereal in the morning, can’t Pirate Booty be considered a cereal? If we give our kids crackers for snacks, can’t Pirate Booty be a snack? If we give our kids a starch with every meal, can’t Pirate Booty be a starch? If we give them a “treat” or a “sanity-for-mom-snack”, can’t Pirate Booty be that? I mean, when you really stop and think about it (or not), isn’t it okay that Pirate Booty is a staple in his diet?

By the way, if he could talk, we would probably be “discussing” the disadvantages of living on Pirate Booty, or bribing him into eating his vegetables with Pirate Booty. As it stands, we struggle with protein, but he does like fruits and vegetables . . . and Pirate Booty.

Tennis shoes . . . ?

So, today I’ve only made one major “mom” error, with several connected small ones. I was late to my son’s tennis lessons, AND I went to the wrong tennis courts. You see, I had to borrow a tennis racket (my daughter left their racket at her lessons on Monday) and, catch this — I had to also borrow tennis shoes for my son! (Can you believe my kid doesn’t own tennis shoes??) He always wears Merrills in the winter and crocs or sandals in the summer. He doesn’t have PE in school yet, so I just never needed tennis shoes. That sounds so unAmerican, doesn’t it?

I can remember having gym class everyday in school. My kids only have it once every 3 days. (and we wonder about childhood obesity…) Well, I got to thinking about this whole “shoe” thing, and I it brought me to a musing about the whole thing . . . . when I got to college, my roommate was from the East coast. She thought it was the funniest thing that I called my tennis shoes, “gym shoes”. As I saw it, these were the type of shoes you wore in gym class, which we had everyday. Why on earth would I call them “tennis shoes” when I had never played a day of tennis in my life, but I had gone to gym class five days a week for 12 years!?! When we weren’t in gym class, by the way, we wore “school shoes”. Makes sense, huh?

Today’s kids have running shoes (with separate ones for trail running), soccer shoes, tennis shoes, cross-trainers, etc., etc. . . . and “school” shoes consist of flip flops, crocs, boots, etc. It’s nuts! So, should I save the whole “soda” vs. “pop” thing for another day?

Hello world!

Well, I’m trying this “blogging” thing out . . . I’ve got plenty to write about, but I’m not even sure where to begin. I’ve got 4 kids, 2 with special needs (the “double whammy”); one is a newborn; and I’m nuts! I cannot see what’s going on right in front of me. I fear that I’m missing all of these really “great childhood moments”, but I cannot fathom how I’m supposed to catch them all. I’ve decided that I’m struggling with post partum depression. Well, that was easy to say. But it’s not that easy to describe because I’m also suffering from “I-don’t-know-what-to-do-about-my-special- needs-kid” syndrome. I’ve got all the kids enrolled in cool camps, but then I get the “call”. . . . they cannot handle my kid in the mainstream camp. They’re really sorry. Thing is, I get it. I’m really sorry, too. I’m pleasant; they’re pleasant. They give me a credit for my $, even though we both know they’re not “allowed” to, and we also both know that I’d prefer them to just handle my kid. So, I walk out of there . . . and cry. And I mean, really cry. I just want something for him to do away from me. My other two were so easy to find camps for. So much for “baby and me” time this summer . . .

So, I decided to do this 8-week weight loss program at my gym . . . to do something “all about me”, ya know? Only thing is, when you’re checking 2-3 kids into the gym daycare, it’s not really all about me. I keep getting paged out of my workouts, to deal with my inconsolable newborn, or my “hitting and disruptive” special needs 3 year old. So much for the weight training . . .

So, I’ve also decided that I need to be closer to God this summer. The whole baby thing threw me out of whack with my quiet times. Well, I found the perfect friend to do the perfect study with . . . but we can’t seem to find the perfect night to get together. We both have traveling husbands and multiple children in multiple things. So much for the Bible study . . .

So, against all statistical odds, I actually know somebody whose baby just died of SIDS. And the scary thing is that her baby was only 6 days younger than mine. I’m all freaked out about everything from sleep training to feeding to crying to teething . . . all the things that I should be “old hat” at by the fourth child. I’m just rambling in circles, hoping to make sense of what really and truly is a fantastic life. When you put it all in perspective, there’s really nothing to be upset about. It’s just that putting it all in perspective can be really difficult sometimes . . . so much for sanity, huh?

But, overall, I get it. I get that I’m blessed. I get that God is watching over me and has chosen me for this role. I get that He’s carrying the weight of my burdens, and I get that most of my life is NOT a burden, but an incredible blessing! I just can’t seem to acknowledge this on a moment-by-moment basis. Any thoughts?