We Fart!

In my childhood visions of motherhood, I would come home to a clean house and happy children who would lovingly greet me with joyful hugs and kisses.  Yesterday, I came home and was greeted by Luke, who ran into the kitchen the moment I walked through the door and excitedly declared, “We FART!!”

Why yes, son, we do.  I am so happy that you have learned this exciting new concept.

This is just the latest in a string fun, new summertime discoveries:

After listening to his parents speak in church, he came to the sudden and quite vocal realization that, “We don’t pee in the freezer!”  (And, yes, he did try it.)

20170713_205600If he wants to get Mom’s attention, a sure fail method has always been to sample a variety of nonfood items.  This summer, however, Luke has kicked it up a notch above just rocks, dirt. and dried up manure.   Those are just so old school.  He knows that if you really want a reaction, you have to get creative!   Try some bird poop off the headstones during a visit to the cemetery on Memorial day.  A long, deep swig of teal acrylic paint (dumped into a cup for easier drinking) lacks creativity but sure generates a nice little Mommy tantrum.  Need a little protein?  How about a large, fresh, juicy slug from the raspberry patch? mmmmm!

I can honestly say that my childhood dream did not include having this conversation with my legitimately worried four-year-old daughter at bedtime:

“Are you sure about this, Mom?  Are you sure this toothbrush hasn’t been up Luke’s butt?”

“Yes, I’m sure, darling. I throw those toothbrushes away as soon as he brings them to me to smell.”

Ah, the real-life dreams of motherhood: dreams of those beautiful days when I am greeted only by the innocent and excited declaration that, “We fart!”

 

 

Advertisements

In Case You Ever Wondered . . .

Anyone who knows me well knows that I am a bit of a Facebook junkie.  I love sharing bits of my life with family and friends I am unable to see or talk to regularly.  However, I have noticed that I often use Facebook as a vent for the frustrating days we have with Luke and seldom do I really share what a beautiful soul I have the honor to raise.  For example, Luke has developed a new attraction to cutting things up.  Here are a couple of pictures that I posted to Facebook:

20170220_175558
Last week: my knitting cord cut and ripped out of the sweater I was working on, my earphones

 

20170228_100638
Today’s casualties: my sweater, hours of work on a crochet project, charger cord, and his little brother’s prized Valentine box

I am so quick to share the aggravating moments, but often fail to share the sweet ones.  So, in an effort to counter all of my whining posts, I want to share this beautiful one.

Last Saturday was almost magical. Luke was a sheer delight to be with. He painted all the pieces to the wood tractor with very little support. He was so patient and even waited for one coat to dry before putting on a second coat. After all the pieces were painted, he used screws and a screwdriver to assemble it. All I did was start it through the hole. That project took a couple of hours and he was so attentive and excited about it.20170225_155444 After we finished, he found some pics of tractors we had printed out and spent the next few hours painting them. It was a beautiful and magical day – almost like a window opened to the sweet little boy trapped in a generally uncooperative body. 20170225_155332.jpgLest anyone ever think otherwise based on my frustrated posts, I adore my boy. I love him with all my heart and just yearn for more days like these!

Kumbaya?

“How do you spell, ‘penis’?”

The question posed by this seemingly innocent elementary school student jarred his teacher to attention.  The class had been asked to draw a picture about their lives, and the fact that this was his student’s choice aroused immediate concern and suspicion in the conscientious  teacher.

“Why do you want to spell that word?” he asked, fearing the response.

“Well, you see, I drew a picture of a rainbow and I want to write, ‘happiness,’ under it.  I have the, ‘hap,’ but I need the, ‘penis.'”

This was just one of the many stories shared during a four-day retreat for special needs mamas that I attended last week.  It has been years since I sat up late swapping stories and laughing with friends. I seriously felt like a 13 year-old girl again, and it was beautiful and healing.

By nature, I am a fairly reserved person.  I am not comfortable in large groups of strangers; I have even been known to develop a last minute, “illness,” when I feel pressured to participate in social groups.  I was tempted to back out of this one too, but others had been turned away from the opportunity.  I could not intentionally skip out on it.  Sometimes those nagging feelings of guilt and responsibility really  do save me, and this was one of those times.

I entered the room with an overwhelming sense of trepidation. “Please don’t make me hold hands and sing, ‘Kumbaya,’ with a bunch of strangers,” I silently prayed.  I was one of the last to arrive and had missed several of the introductions already.  The group was busy making Journey Boards – scrapbook pages of themselves and their journeys that landed them here.  As I hurried to catch up, I became overwhelmed by the lives of the women surrounding me, and I immediately realized I had entered a room of sisters, not strangers.  These women had faced and conquered struggles that I cannot even imagine.  Loss of husbands, abusive husbands, children with multiple diagnoses, and multiple children with special needs.  By the time I had my board prepared to share, I felt nothing but pure joy for the life I was blessed to have, and this was only the first hours of a life-changing event.

Over the next four days, our group participated in courses tailored to the significant challenges that come from raising special needs children.  We were taught about working with our schools to develop amazing IEPs (Individualized Education Programs – not plans – see Lana I remembered something :).  A local chiropractor volunteered his time to discuss chiropractic options to treating our special kiddos.  We learned about resources available through Medicaid and other charitable organizations.  Did you know that Idaho Falls has a group that is dedicated to finding bicycles that work for our special needs kids?  Neither did I. Amazing!  And that was just the tip of the iceberg.

We learned about the importance of taking care of ourselves and putting priorities in proper perspective.  Later in the week, a certified ABA therapist provided training on handling many of the challenging behaviors we see every day with our children.  I had more questions answered in these four days than I have in all the years of being Luke’s mommy.  I came home on fire with new ambition and drive to make changes in Luke’s care that will help him develop to his full potential.  More than that, though, I came home with a new network of support, new friends living with parallel challenges, new skills (and no, ladies, painting is not among those skills), and new perspective.

Thankfully, my prayers were answered.  Although we did have one very close call, we were never required to hold hands and sing “Kumbaya.”  I would say, however, that I do have more of a Kumbaya spirit now.  A huge thank you to all of the many, many people and organizations that contributed time, money, and effort to make this possible.  Every one of you contributed to healing this stressed-out, tattered mamma.