Tuesday, December 31, 2013

The Unwritten Christmas Letter

It's hard to admit it when things don't go as planned, when things don't go the way you think others expect them to go. But let's face it. Life doesn't resemble a Friends episode no matter how much we wish it did. Our families don't look much like the Huxtables. And recently I've come to the conclusion that it's ok.

But somewhere along the way we got it in our heads that this was what others wanted to hear. Progress, success, accomplishment.

Don't get me wrong those are important, too. But what about the messy, imperfect chaotic parts?

I read this post on Huffington tonight. As I reached the end I realized that this was in large part why I never sent out that Christmas letter I planned shortly after we were married (14 years ago). Not because there wasn't joyous, wonderful things to say but because I felt like the ugly needed to be shared with the beautiful and no one wanted to hear about the ugly.

And I ask myself at what point did we decide that our lives were only noteworthy based on the pretty, picture perfect parts?

Recently, I noticed more than one female friend on Facebook remove her married name from her profile in the past few months. I wonder if the ugly parts of that process made it into her Christmas letter. I have another FB friend who lost her husband suddenly - he wasn't even 40. I wonder what her letter would have looked like.

Well, now we find our family in a season with a lot of ugly. Chaos seems to rule the roost. We get glimpses of the beautiful but they seem fleeting, at best. So I ponder what a Christmas letter to friends and family might be like and I wonder whether it is what they "expect".

Little Dude made leaps and bounds in reading.
Big Dude finally learned to tie his shoes.
Kitty got braces on and off in less than 6 months and has a beautiful smile to show for it.
Little Dude drives us to the end of our patience with his endless disobedience.
Big Dude received a co-morbid diagnosis that has added a level of stress to everyone in our home that we could have never imagined humanly possible.
Kitty spent several weeks having extremely intense nightmares.

What parts of this past year are you leaving out of the proverbial Christmas letter because they seem too messy? How can we all share a little more of the messy parts so that the messy starts to become a little bit more loved like the beautiful?

Monday, September 14, 2009

It All Happens For a Reason

See, we were supposed to have John's 2nd birthday party Saturday. We had planned it months ago (June to be exact). We booked the pavilion in the park. We planned the menu. We alerted all our family and friends to save the date. And then it rained! Actually it started raining back in April and hasn't really stopped since. (Ok, it has stopped but it also feels like just when the weather got nice it rained again.) So, Dave and I had decided that (despite the fact that the forecasts were calling for rain on Saturday) we would go ahead with the plans for the party Saturday. Friday after Dave got home from work I grabbed my reusable shopping bags and headed out... out to get all the party favors, food, decorations, EVERYTHING! I went to the party store, Wal-Mart and then was headed to Wegmans when Dave called on the mobile. "Should we postpone the party?" "The park is already booked by someone else for Sunday." "Could we have it at our house?" "What are you nuts?" This conversation (or a close facsimile of this conversation) commenced for about 10 minutes while I sat in the parked car in the lot at Wegmans.

Decision: I would finish getting what I was going to get and then we would call all our family and friends and tell them that we were in fact psycho pushing the party to Sunday. Some couldn't make it, others who couldn't come on Saturday as originally planned now could come. All in all it was a good time had by all... but that is not the moral of this story.

After I hung up the phone (feeling rather depressed) I trudged into the store to make my reluctant and bitter purchases. I picked up some bananas and grapes (because we always seem to run out of these). Then headed around to the Gluten Free section of the store. Wegmans (in my opinion) has one of the most diverse and best-priced Gluten Free sections of any supermarket around. I needed everything from Peanut Butter Panda Puffs to Gorilla Munch; Glutino pretzels to Bob's Red Mill Pancake Mix. I was loading up my cart with some of the boys' favorite GF items when this women joined me in the aisle. She looked rather damp (remember it had been raining since April) and her body language spoke volumes. She was talking (quite loudly) to herself and kept sneaking glances into my cart. (Now I should mention here that I am the person in the store that will answer your questions even if you are not asking them to me. I hate nothing more than to see a fellow consumer struggle to find an "associate" who should know the answer and yet never seems to know anything. So if you happen to be asking questions either out loud to yourself or to another person in your party, and no one gives you an answer you better believe I will speak up!) I did the socially appropriate thing at this point: smiled and made eye contact. This says, "I am friendly and open to have a conversation with you, if, in fact, that is what you desire."

She desired.

Not only did she desire but she necessitated. She said she noticed that I was putting a lot of GF items into my cart and thought that I might be able to help her find some things and to make some suggestions. We began talking. I told her why we chose the GFCF diet for the boys. She shared her new found Celiac diagnosis. We talked shop and it was great! I told her about the gluten free tours that Whole Foods has... and then I mentioned Trader Joe's. Before I could finish saying the name she told me that she had been making the 45-60 minute drive to TJs in southern Jersey. When she finally stopped talking I told her that there was a TJs opening in 2 weeks less than a mile from where we stood. (I kid you not) She started jumping up and down in the middle of the aisle. She began shrieking and laughing! She had tears in her eyes! Once she regained her composure she looked me in the eyes and said, "I debated whether or not to come out tonight. I really wanted brownies but didn't really feel like trudging out into the rain. Now I know why I came. I had to come so that you could share that with me!"

I showed her where the gluten free freezer section was (for Vans waffles and Bell and Evans chicken tenders) and then we said our good byes. I stood there for a few minutes reflecting on what God had just done... you see, what I didn't tell you was that the 10 minute conversation with Dave in the parking lot was more like a 2 minute conversation followed by a 5 minute yelling match followed by an intentional hangup followed by another 3 minute yelling match followed by a truce and apology. Had it not rained, had we not had to reschedule, had I not been so depressed... I would have been in and out of that aisle of the market long before she got there (Dave added bananas and grapes to my list while I was on the phone with him) and I never would have gotten the chance to, even if for a moment, bless her. I know it might sound funny but that is exactly how I see it. It was a blessing. Not only for her but for me too. It was only after that happy moment (you really would have thought she had won the Publishers' Clearinghouse Sweepstakes) that I realized that my life has been so blessed and has been such a blessing. Each little connection that I make has given me knowledge and perspective and I, in return, have given as well. So whether we had the party at home or at the park. whether Dave's sister and her family could come or not, whether the grass was cut or overgrown didn't really matter. What matters is how we use what we have been blessed with to bless others.

Monday, May 19, 2008

Being Sugar and Water to Help Others Make Lemonade

An internet mom-friend posted these words yesterday: "It's with a heavy heart that we write to you now. It's been a few weeks since * was evaluated at *** on 4/22. On 5/1/08, we received the blow to our lives that we were dreading. Our sweet *son* has been diagnosed Autistic. It's been the most horrific time of our lives ... we are grief stricken and feel sick with sadness."

Her email went on to say in more detail what she and her husband were dealing with but I must admit her email hit a nerve for me. I don't know why but I don't remember feeling like this exactly. We had spent about 6 months wandering around what seemed like this dark cave, groping for the walls, for anything to hold on to and claim. So when James finally got diagnosed I felt a sense of relief. "Finally, a direction to move in for recovery." I mean if you go to the hospital because one day you can see and the next you can't, there is a sense of relief when they finally tell you that it is Diagnosis X because now they can start treating you in an aggressive fashion if need be.

So I read her email slowly and prayerfully hoping to come up with words to encourage and give hope. I wanted to share them here not because I think that I am an awesome person or anything like that, but because I feel like these words are the Truth and we can all use to be encouraged by them everyday: "Hi. I just got a chance to read your email. I should tell you upfront that I am sometimes jokingly called Pollyanna because I always look for the silver lining. That being said, I wanted to respond in a loving and Christ-like manner so here goes: Our son James was also Dx'd with ASD at the age of 27 months. At about 19 months he had a major regression: complete loss of language, head banging, spinning, meltdowns... We had him evaluated by Early Intervention and while we were waiting for 'stuff' to get done I did some research of my own and realized that what we were probably looking at was ASD. I have to say that for me hearing his Dr give the official Dx was a weight lifted not a burden to bear. We had been living for 8 months in a sea of chaos and uncertainty and it was a relief to be able to point to something and say 'that's it!' Once we finally got the Dx I knew what path to finally take. I didn't have to guess which path we needed to walk I could confidently say this is what we are doing. Having said all that I want to encourage you... First, we are ALL made in the image and likeness of God. I have started reading a great book called Same Lake, Different Boat. The author (can't remember her name) is a Christian with a son with Downs Syndrome. Her basic thesis is that we need to change our view to be that "We are all normal people living in an abnormal world." If we believe that we are all made in the image of God then none of us are abnormal. It is the fallen world that we live in that is abnormal. Anyway I digress a bit. I want to encourage you to look at *'s diagnosis not as something bad or a burden to bear but look at it this way: * is 'fearfully and wonderfully made.' The dx doesn't define him Christ does. I know that it may be hard to hear but there is a bright side to all of this. Now on to practical, tangible help: After James's dx I went online and looked for advice from folks as to where to start. I read about GFCF and the GF part scared us so we removed dairy from his diet (casein free). We had also started him on some supplements that a friend had recommended when he first regressed. We are now firm believers in the DAN! protocol. It is the idea that you can help (and possibly cure) your ASD child through biomedical intervention. We are still in the early stages of all of it because my husband had a hard time at first believing that it would actually work. But now we have a DAN certified Dr and a DAN nutritionist and we are moving forward. I also wanted to mention one other thing: DIR and ABA don't have to be the exact opposite. And a lot of the "experts" in autism recommend that EVERY child with ASD receive some level of ABA everyday. Most of us hear ABA and we think of discreet trials. I am pretty sure that this is not going to be what * needs. And if this school really is that good they will adjust the goals and objectives to specifically meet HIS needs. We also thought that ABA was not going to be right for James but then a friend who is a behaviorist and works with ASD kids explained ABA to me more in depth and I realized that ABA could actually make a huge difference for him. (We have been predominantly DIR also since 22 months.) I wish that I lived close enough that I could come and fellowship with you and your family and possibly bring some hope in to this dark time. If I can be of any help please let me know and I would be happy to spend time with you on the phone walking through whatever you are doing. I don't know if you are a reader but if you are looking for something light and encouraging may I recommend Louder Than Words by Jenny McCarthy. (I will warn that she uses some foul language.) She takes you on her journey though what looked like hell to a point where her son is almost recovered. I laughed, I cried and I was motivated to do something that would help my son rather than wonder why he wasn't getting better. And again if I can be of ANY help please don't hesitate to ask."

I hope that you all see the joy and hope in adversity and celebrate the God who created us ALL in His image.

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Other Peoples' Lemons

Many of you have asked about how I got started with blogging and how do I have the time to write? Well, it all started with a pack of Pokemon cards and a fantastic blog called Because I Said So. Dawn has become a cyber friend who has introduced me to the humor in the craziness that is the SAHM. As I read her posts I thought, "Hey my kids do some pretty great things and I know there are lots of folks out there that would love to hear more about them." So I began blogging about the Minis at Super Mom to the Minis. As for the time, well that is another issue all together. Do I have scads of extra time? Not really, but when I have a thought it takes me only a few minutes to write a post for y'all.

But what I really wanted to tell you about were some lemons that I have been sharing with Dawn and many others in cyberspace. Dawn would occasionally ask us (her readers) to pray for Julian (aka: King Julian, JuJu). So I got curious and went to CarePages and looked up JuliansWorld and found the most amazing little boy and his Mama, Mimi. Julian was about 4 when I began following his journey with cancer. (Sorry I am bad with all the big medical words and can't tell you exactly what kind. All I know is that it started in his brain and eventually ended up in his spine and lots of other places.) And it didn't take long to fall in love. Well, sadly Juju went home to be with the Lord a couple of months ago. But (and here comes the lemon recipe) his Mama has met so many wonderful people through this dark valley that have been such a blessing to her and to some of the other children with cancer.

One of these special people is Michelle. She is a writer and illustrator who writes children's books. Michelle has felt called to turn her talents toward help to fight cancer. So she has developed a whole array of cards and other artsy things and is donating 50% of the proceeds to fighting pediatric cancer. So please take a minute and go to My Semblance of Sanity and show some love and encouragement.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Pollyanna

When we were growing up our family was not what you would call on the cutting edge of technology. My family didn't even get cable until after I went away to college. We had 2 TVs (one in the den and one in our parent's bedroom) and one VCR (remember those?) so when we were kids and wanted to watch a movie we either all 4 had to agree or one of us would choose and the others would suffer through or go do something else. Well, when it was my turn to choose a movie I almost always chose Pollyanna with Haley Mills. (And as a result my sisters almost always found something else to do after groaning and moaning about how much they loathed that movie. I LOVE that movie!) If you have never seen it the basic gist is that Pollyanna has had a very difficult childhood and manages to teach her curmudgeon of an aunt how to see the good in everything. So maybe that is where I learned this but now I am always the one who takes a bad situation and can find the positive side. I know that it annoys the crap out of some folks but I can't help it.

Back in January, a dear Sister (Julie) was telling our email group about how she had been complaining so much but that things had just turned around 180 degrees and things were really starting to look up. I replied back that she always had this knack for taking lemons and making lemonade and lemon chicken and lemon meringue pie and then had enough time and energy left to slice some lemons to garnish her sweet tea. Then in a response she was telling us about another great thing that had happened for her family and that this was the "lesson from her lemons." So here I am making it public and official. What would happen, do you suppose, if when faced with a difficult, ugly situation we all looked for a positive, redeeming perspective?