My Quirky Kid- Will's Year

Dear Will,

2012 has been a rough year.
2012 hasn’t been very kind.

And tonight, I am so thrilled to say goodbye to 2012.

I hope he/she never returns.

Oh, Will. This year was so hard. I mean, just bone-chilling, back-breaking, bawl-your-eyes-out-five-times-a-week hard. I can say without a doubt this has been the hardest year of my life, thus far. But when I would think that I just couldn't take one more day of 2012, I would remember that you were doing so well, so maybe I could crawl through just one more day. Or maybe two. Thinking about your progress was the only way I made it through this year. That, and Duke's kind heart and smile that always seemed to pull me through the darkest of days. (And for your record, the challenges we had trying to help you were a cake walk in comparison with what the rest of the year had in store for us.)

But I’m writing this letter to you tonight to tell you that you made 2012 worth it. You, buddy. You did that. Your dad and I will always refer to this as “Will’s year”.

You started out this year as an out-of-sync little boy. You were so confused and angry and scared and frustrated all at the same time. But what you’ve accomplished in the last twelve months is an absolute miracle.

There have been so many times this year when I have thought about how precise Heavenly Father was when He created your spirit. This should come as no surprise to me, and should serve as a lesson that Heavenly Father creates all of His children’s spirits with as much focus and exactness. You were created with so much determination and passion for life and you give every single day 110%. You wake up every morning ready to run a marathon and each night you collapse into sleep because your little body just can’t keep going, although I’m sure if it could, your mind would still be commanding it. This internal drive has positively launched you into overcoming incredible obstacles this year. I’ve learned over and over again in 2012 the way we need to parent you is helping you channel and direct your passion. You have enough motivation and drive for three lifetimes. That’s why this year was so important. This. Your year. You move so quickly and had we not taken this year with as much prayer, fasting, and dedication, twelve months from now you could have been zooming in the opposite direction from where you are now.

We started the year in desperation. We were completely alone and had no support network and we needed to find help for you. And fast. I could feel you slipping through my fingertips and it was the most frightening feeling I have ever had as a mother. I know Heavenly Father gives special glimpses of inspiration to mothers, because their work is so important, and Will, I could feel God telling me (and Dad, too) that finding the right people to help you was the most vital thing I could do for you, for your life. How we handled this year with you, was going to completely alter the way the rest of your life would play out, for the better or worse.

So I refused to take no for an answer.

Your drive fueled me. I was your advocate and I needed to fight with every ounce of determination you had. I scoured books and websites and seemed to be in a never-ending prayer with Heavenly Father to help me know what to do. It was so clear in my mind what you needed, that there was no way I was not going to give that to you. The Lord blessed me to know exactly what to do when the opportunities presented themselves.

St. Kathryn came along. And then Parkwood came along. And then Miss Erin. And things just starting falling in place.

And you started thriving again.

It was the most incredible thing to witness for Dad and I. You learned to talk (and rethink all verbal communication) right in front of our eyes, every single day. At least once a week we would comment, “oh my gosh, can you believe he just said that? I wouldn’t have even believed he would be able to say that 1/3/6/8 months ago!”

You started this year (as a three year-old) understanding and speaking at a less than two year-old level. We were prepared and advised by professionals to hold you back for kindergarten, where you would likely be in a special needs class. We hoped that by second or third grade, the gap would be closed and you would be at an equal level of communication with your peers.

Six weeks ago, Mrs. Perich called me and said that in her class, she would put you “right in the middle” of the class in abilities. Average has never sounded so glorious in all my life.

I cried when I hung up the phone.

Later that week, Mrs. Heather and I had a parent/teacher conference where she praised you up and down and said more than once “Oh, he’s so ready for kindergarten!”

I cried when I left.

Will, it's only half way through the school year, but I can already say you are going to start kindergarten next year with all of your friends, and you likely will not have an IEP at all.

This is why you are a miracle.
You did this. You. You, did.

Will, I have so many more things to write about this year and I have about six posts waiting to be edited to add to the “My Quirky Kid” blog, but they will just have to wait for, yet, another day. But I want you to know the main reason I am writing all of this down is because I want to you know that you can do anything. And you’ve already proved it. And you will have this record forever. You have completely blown the statistics out of the water this year, and you likely won’t even remember this stage of your life. But you’ll have this record, in your hands, for the rest of your life that you have the power to overcome whatever obstacles come in your way. Whenever you need this in the next five, ten, twenty, forty years, you will know that even as young as a four year-old, you conquered insurmountable odds that could have paralyzed your life and dampened your dreams. But you never let them get the upper hand.

You did it then, and you can do it again. And again. And again.

And when you need this in the next five, ten, twenty, forty years, you will know that I was with you.

And that I fought with you. And that I’ll always be with you, during every obstacle of your life.

Will, I’m always going to be in the trenches with you.

You made this year worth it. This was your year.

Thank you for taking me along for the ride.

Love,
Mom

6

Loving you the way I do


I know we're gonna make it through



And I would go to the ends of the earth


'Cause darlin', to me that's what you're worth


Where you lead, I will follow


Anywhere that you tell me to


If you need, if you need me to be with you


I will follow where you lead


If you're out on the road


Feelin' lonely and so cold


All you have to do is call my name


And I'll be there on the next train


Where you lead, I will follow


Anywhere that you tell me to


If you need, if you need me to be with you


I will follow where you lead


I always wanted a real home with flowers on the window sill



But if you want to live in Washington DC, honey you know I will


You never know how it's all gonna turn out, but that's ok


Just as long as we're together, we can find a way


And where you lead, I will follow


Anywhere that you tell me to


If you need, if you need me to be with you


I will follow where you lead.








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Passover

I work with some really fun people (in fact, there's really only 2 people-out of 30- that I work with that I wouldn't want to hang out with outside of work) and one of my favorites is a young twenty-something named Brian. He is incredibly sarcastic and his voice is identical to Michael Cera. One night we were talking about religion, he being Jewish and I being a Mormon. Our conversation went something like this..

Me: you know, Mormons probably know more about Judaism than probably any other western religion.

Brian: oh, really?

Me: yeah, there are a lot of events that are important to us that revolve around Passover, so it's not uncommon for Mormons to host Passover dinners. I've even attended a few Hanukkah dinners.

Brian: oh, that's cool. I didn't know that.

Me: yeah, really the only difference is we believe Elijah already came.

Brian: yeah, I always thought it would be so awkward if Elijah came and he brought a date and all these years we've only been setting out one chair.

This is where I start laughing. The imagery is so hilarious to me. Someone write this for an SNL skit already!! Elijah comes with a date and everyone awkwardly sets out another place setting knowing that for centuries they've only counted on him coming as an individual....of course he'd have a date/wife!!!

In other news, I recently became a card-carrying member of the Muirbrook Female Gene Pool and had my first varicose vein removed at the old age of 27. Good thing being in that gene pool brings about a million other wonderful things:) but let this be a lesson to my female cousins...Look out! The veins...they're out to getcha!

And...I hit another major goal at work. Two days in a row of selling 4k (I was even the #1 seller one day) and on top of that I've gotten some incredibly kind compliments from coworkers this week. Never underestimate the power of a genuine compliment. I will remember these kind words for a very long time and its just another reason I just really love my job and the people I work with. Today I had a sweet conversation with a coworker that went like this:

Coworker: are you Mormon?
Me: yeah! How'd you know?
Coworker: I knew it! You're blonde and you're such a good baker!

This is me, breaking Mormon stereotypes, one day at a time (NOT).

I have realized that long, blonde curly hair is an anomaly in the East. I have at least one client every day ask me, is THAT your natural color? And when I say yes you can hear their audible sigh. Helps me sell a lot of clothes... They get to the register and say "the girl with the blonde hair helped me."

Heaven

Things haven't been easy around here lately. In fact, I can't think of a more difficult year of my life. The details are long and complicated and frustrating and sad, and I swear if I didn't live the last year myself, I'd think it was a plot of a Lifetime movie.

Most days I've done really well holding it together, and holding everyone else together too. But about one in ten days, I just break. Crumble, really. Today was one of those days. I desperately wanted to be swallowed up in a warm bed and stay there for days, even weeks. I cried thinking about how wonderful it would feel to walk in the door of my parents' house and know there were at least 6 adults at the boys' fingertips to love them and meet all of their needs, so I could focus on my own needs and recuperate. Just the feeling of going "home" sounded so lovely. It was warm, and welcome, and there were people actively seeking me to help shoulder our burdens.

I was in desperate need of an umbrella from the storm. Just a little shelter. Just for a little bit, to catch my breath.

I tried to stay engaged with the kids all day. It wasn't going horribly, but that was mostly because it was just Duke at home and he's thrilled to do just about anything. But I was worried about when Will would get home from school. What would I do the rest of the day with both of them, when I had less than zero desire to do anything?

It was dark at 5:15, but I knew we needed to go outside or they would go crazy inside before bedtime. Will screamed that he wanted to play baseball. In the dark? Whatever. I turned on the dim porch light. It was chilly out and with our coats on we could see our breath. Will handed me the glove and the ball and he headed up to bat. I threw a pitch and smack, it flew threw the air and Will cheered himself on as he rounded the bases.

I was surprised at how much I could actually see with the dim porch light. Duke grabbed Cortney's glove and put it on. It was stiff and creased from laying on the ground through the recent storms. It was so creased, Duke could hover his glove over the ball on the ground and easily pick it up. With each smack of the ball, Duke ran after it saying, "I get it, I get it." He would bring the ball back to me and I'd throw it again.

Occasionally, Duke would get a turn at bat and even though he never hit the ball, Will would always say, "Good Job Duke!" Will would play catcher and squat down holding his glove out, just like a pro. They were showing their true colors as blood brothers, completely supporting and encouraging each other. I got a few turns to bat and I was cheered on by both boys as I ran the bases, cold breath floating through the dark air, landing on home plate.

And then it hit me.

This is heaven.

I used to think heaven was a sanctuary, and it still is by some definitions. But I learned tonight that heaven is living with the people you love, wherever that is. Heaven isn't perfect; it's not paved with gold, or has streets lined with mansions. It's like you're favorite book; dog-eared pages, scribbles in the corners, and creased bindings, but still has plenty of wear left for hundreds of nights reading your most beloved story.

If I have to endure 100 more years like this, to be able to have them be dotted with moments like tonight, then I want to stay here.

In this heaven. With these boys.

Goal Met

Broke 2k tonight in 5 hours. It was a welcome surprise.




I have about 50 pictures just like this one on my phone of Will taking pictures of himself. Also, a welcome surprise.

iWork

My job at JCrew has quickly become one of my favorite things in life (you know, minus family, the Gospel, and other big "eternal" things:) I never knew how much more I would love being a mom, having 15 hrs a week to be something else. It's truly been a blessing in many ways, and I plan on working there indefinitely. Last night, I hit a major goal. I sold more than $1500 in 4 hrs! My goal is to sell at least $1000 every shift, but until last night $1300 was my highest. I killed it! And keep in mind, I usually always work back in the sale section, so imagine what the numbers would be if I had been in the front of the store with full price items?! Oh, AND all sale items were 30% off last night, so in reality, I sold just under 2k. Amazing! I have an hourly wage plus commission and the more you sell the higher your commission rate is, so in short, numbers mean a lot. My next goal will be to break $1700,
and then 2k. Might not be too far off!

Other stuff... Will told me yesterday he had two tickets in his pocket to the future....so....yeah.

Duke and I watched The Sandlot for the 100th time and the scene where Squintz sees Wendy Peffercorm walking down the street came on and Duke pointed and said, "it's Momma!" It's probably my greatest compliment to date.

Both boys have become obsessed with fishing and use my skinny belts as fishing poles to fish behind the couch and other fishing holes. When they are not doing that, they're watching fishing highlights on YouTube. Good thing I stocked up on belts at work recently...#multipurpose.




A typical work outfit.




Monday morning carpool.

Thoughts at 2:47 am

A coughing attack in the middle of the night has lead me here, and hopefully back to sleep right after.

I went to bed on Tuesday night at 9 pm not wanting to watch the election results because I was pretty sure there wouldn't be a President decided by the next day, because so many of the states were so close. I woke up around six and looked at Facebook to see what everyone was saying about the election and found out that Obama had been reelected. Did I personally vote for him? No. But I was absolutely shocked at the hatred on Facebook at the thought of "4 more years". And full disclosure, most of these comments were from Mormons. All day I kept checking back thinking everyone would mellow out and it just got worse. Among some of the comments were:

1. A few references to Obama being the antiChrist.
2. A picture of the American flag at half mast with the caption "Goodbye America. Nice knowing you."
3. A few people committing to gaining a solid food storage in the next few months and becoming better trained in the areas of shooting guns and marksmanship.
4. Too many references that NOW we must REALLY pray for God to bless our country, because I guess if a republican would have made it to the White House that wouldn't be necessary.

I literally wanted to crawl under a rock all day. To all of those "commenters" from yesterday, today, and any time forward, I say to you, stop it. Just stop it. You don't have to agree with the President, or even like him. But our religion is one that teaches respect for our government's leaders and I will continue to teach my children to have respect for the office of the President of the United Sates, whether I agree with him or not because we believe in honoring, obeying, and sustaining the law. In addition, our faith has a long tradition of praying for the leaders of our country, so that will continue as normal and not just because your candidate didn't get elected. We pray for the troops who continue to sacrifice so that we can have this wonderful liberty of being able to choose our leaders, voice all of our ideas and concerns, and worship freely.

But all this apocalypse talk has got to stop. The world is exactly the same today as it was yesterday. Do I think the country is headed in the wrong direction? Sometimes. Do I think there will be more than a few economic "I told you so" situations in the near future? Yes. But, please, for the love, put away your 250 lbs of wheat and your guns/bow and arrows. The world is not coming to an end---yet. The sun came up yesterday morning the same way it has everyday before that. Let's put all this energy we have for mudslinging and put it to good use focusing on strengthening our families. Haven't we learned by now that we can't control what goes on in the "world"? But we can control what goes on in our own homes. And if we do our jobs at home, the "world" becomes irrelevant.

For a group of people that has all the answers to all of life's hardest questions, Mormons (and Republicans) were sure a bunch of Debbie Downers yesterday. What happened to having faith in Christ? Or that we have a prophet who leads and guides us, as God's voice? There is absolutely no reason to feel any less hopeful today, than yesterday because we still have a Savior that overcame the world so we can live again with our families forever. And thankfully we will always have that.

It makes me sick to think about what good we could have done with all money spent on this election in a "you suck. No, you suck more" agenda, especially when just days before many have been homeless due to costly natural disaster. Think of what our individual faith and the strength of our families would be if we had put all that energy for arguing towards being disciples of Christ, and serving our fellow man.

If there is a positive outcome to this election, I sincerely hope it's that everyone will be able to reassess their priorities and remember what is truly important, and eternal.

2 Nephi 31:20

Wherefore, ye must press forward with a steadfastness in Christ and a perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and all men. Wherefore, if ye shall press forward feasting upon the words of Christ, and endure to the end, Thus saith the Father: Ye shall have eternal life.


"Come, come ye saints, no toil or labor fear, but with joy wend your way. Though hard to you, this journey may appear, great shall be as your day. Tis better far for us to strive, our useless cares for us to drive. Do this and joy, your hearts will swell! All is well, all is well.

Why should we mourn or think our lot is hard? Tis not so; all is right. Why should we think to earn a great reward, if we now shun the fight. Gird up your loins, fresh courage take. Our God will NEVER us forsake. And soon we'll have this tale to tell; All is well, all is well."

All is still well, everyone. All is well.

Timing

I've been thinking a lot about timing lately due to recent circumstances of our lives. Right now, some things seem to be perfectly timed with our needs, others, the exact opposite. But I have been thinking back to Elder Oak's talk about "The Lord's Timing" and I know everything will be fine. In a random conversation with a coworker the other night, she said "Don't worry, Amy. God's plan is perfect." It was so simple, but yet exactly what has been drumming through my mind over and over the last few weeks.

On the note of timing, this happened yesterday:

Will had been running around after school for a while and then ran inside to go to the bathroom. He needed help wiping after #2 (I'll be so happy when this stage is over), and as I was helping him he said, "I'm the calendar helper this week!" I couldn't help but burst into laughter. I guess he figured when his mom was wiping his butt was as good of a time as any to share his good news.

Some other good/cute things to note:

Will takes showers. It's hard to believe it's even possible. Will had been scared to death of showers his whole life (sensory issues) but one day I was getting in the shower and he decided he wanted to try it too. He's taken at least one shower a day since then. HUGE milestone.

Duke wants to do "cheers" when you have anything the same as him. For instance, if you both have a sucker, he wants to do cheers with the sucker. The other morning he realized both he and Cort were wearing jackets and he wanted to cheers the occasion. This essentially looked like a chest bump. It was cute.





Here's the crew on Halloween. The boys thought their costumes were awesome and the only thing that made it better was that Dad was Gru! #mommyforthewin

We posted this picture to Facebook and it got over 60 likes.

My Quirky Kid: Turbulance

*this was originally written in June 2012 and was not published then for obvious privacy reasons. But I'm publishing it now because I want to document all the valleys-it will make the summit that much sweeter. I promise this isn't a pity party- just a raw moment in motherhood ;)

After 45 minutes of unsuccessful attempts to fall asleep, I have decided to spend my wakefulness writing, starting at 10:57 p.m. My motherly soul has been tormented lately and I have no other alternatives than to get it all out, breathe, then move forward.

For the past three weeks, Will has been descending into the valley described as too-many-emotions-and-sensory-issues-for-a-four-year-old’s-body. This valley isn’t particularly green, or lush, or beautiful. Instead, it’s frustrating, confusing, annoying, and barren of peace.

Out of nowhere, EVERYTHING has become a huge deal. On the way to play group last week, Will told me he needed a band-aid for his foot when we were two blocks away from the school. I assured him Miss Erin would definitely have one handy and he immediately burst into tears, screamed and pleaded, “NO! No, mom! You have to turn around and go home for a band-aid!” He was downright hysterical and violently thrashing. Will loves play group, loves his friends there, and I’m positive his first teacher crush has been his infatuation with Miss Erin. Yet, as this was happening, I was in complete shock, and I was dumbfounded as how I would fix the problem, because I really didn’t understand what the problem was in the first place. It wasn’t until after I walked Will into the school, debriefed Miss Erin on the situation, and she told Will that she had a band-aid that he calmed down to a low whimper and headed off to class.

Around this same time, without warning, Will has become deathly afraid of taking a bath. What once was his favorite part of the day, is now his worst fear. Now people are hit, kicked, and bitten in an effort to get Will clean. His baths now are approximately 45 seconds long, which consist of me forcing him to stand in the bathtub, while I wash his hair as quickly as possible and hope that the soap running down his body will clean all of his fingers and toes and all other dirty body parts. I make him do this twice a week. The other days I just make him wash his hands, feet, and face thoroughly in the sink, which, ironically, he seems to have no problem with.

Metro rides have also been pushed out of the equation. Too little space, for too long. He caps out at about 10 minutes, and then things get ugly. Same thing with sporting events. Cort wanted to do what every dad does and take his son to a MLB game. Upon entering the park, Will covered his ears so tightly, and kept his ears covered so tightly the entire time they were there that his knuckles turned white. This happens at any sporting event—quiet or loud—including little league games at our local park.

And how was I supposed to know that one day without warning, all of Will’s collared shirts for church were too stiff and restricting when he’s been wearing a collared shirt every Sunday to church since he was 4 months old? Every week we wrack our brain for new creative dressing tactics to get Will ready for church, only for a massive (and I really mean MASSIVE) meltdown to begin. I don’t think I’m even going to bring up neck ties until he’s twelve and starts passing the Sacrament. It will probably take him that long to warm up to the idea.

And twice in the last week while riding in the bike trailer, Will, feeling anxious, has bitten Duke so hard that Duke sported red, dented, broken skin with teeth marks on his arms until he fell asleep at night. Will is a “space” kid. If he’s in too little of a space, bad things happen.

This new set of challenges has created an oxymoron of a situation where I’m very confined and positively stifled, yet I can’t be in my own home. Will’s attention span at home has gotten shorter than ever. Our little 1300 sq ft house is just way too little for his active soul. There’s no place in the house that he can just go and be alone—a required house feature in all of our future living situations. Will is always going to need his own bedroom. He just needs more space than most kids. I haven’t arranged any play dates with the few friends I have because Will—on my watch—hasn’t had very good peer interaction lately without becoming frustrated and violent. My windows of opportunity to feel like a regular adult have diminished, almost completely, minus unloading massive amounts of sobs and vents to Cortney at night. I, now, regularly crave to stay in my pjs for a day with children who just want to watch cartoons all day.
Will usually wakes up around 6:45 and I am at the park with the boys by 8 to play for an hour before school starts. We HAVE to be going out the door, usually, about 45 minutes after Will wakes up or else bad things happen. People get hurt. Things break. People get yelled at. We, also, HAVE to go to the park that early in the morning because it’s empty before 9 a.m., so there’s no one there he can get angry with.

But once we’re at the park, Will is fine. He just needs that room to roam and the autonomy to be free in a safe, fenced-in, area. While I’m not a huge planner of finite details of my everyday life, I usually have a handful of activities that we can do at any given time, and I try to strategically plan the time that Will is with me, so there is never more than an hour Will is at home at a time. It’s just easier for everyone that way. I also formally gave up grocery shopping with Will last week. I had told myself this a few times before, but now I’m finally ready to fully recognize it—the kid just can’t handle it. Far too many little things, perfectly within reach, to throw across the aisle. Sensory overload. And I can’t go grocery shopping with Will without giving at least one judgmental onlooker an earful as they criticize Will or I with their eyes or mouths. I just have to tell myself that no matter how much I’m craving X, Y, or Z, it’s just always better to go to the drive-through or eat cereal for dinner until I can get to the store after Will is asleep.

The irony of this situation is that Will has never been better at school. He has had nothing but stellar reports from both school and play group lately, neither of them noting any mood swings in him whatsoever. But it seems that within minutes of returning home, Will quickly slips into an emotional downward spiral.

Obviously, as parents, we are searching through every aspect of our lives to decipher where this drastic change has come from. And when it’s obvious that really nothing has changed, there’s really only one finger pointed to the problem:

Me.

It’s hard not to feel that I’m the problem. I mean, if he’s doing great at school, but can’t function well at home, wouldn’t that be the logical explanation? I’m pretty much the only variable, since everything else about his life has become streamlined through the blessing of school. Maybe it IS me. I’m not as organized as I probably should be and when Will is used to having concrete activities all day at school, my more relaxed approach to life is just not enough for him. But I have to do other things than his teachers do at school. I have another child to take care of, dishes to clean, clothes to wash, make dinner, and other motherly tasks. It’s impossible for me to recreate his school environment at home, which just digs deeper at this feeling that I’m just not what Will needs right now.

After the last few weeks I have become terrified that Will is going to grow up hating me, because by nature we have a conflicting relationship because we spend so much time (in frustration) trying to figure each other out. I’m trying so hard to be patient and I pray so deeply each night that I will be able to understand his needs easier. But to no avail. He seems to get so frustrated so quickly, I have no way of calming him down until its too late and I just have to let the meltdown run its course.

The other night we were having one such meltdown, and Will ran into his room and started grabbing books off the shelves and throwing them at me, screaming and spitting. He knows the consequence for this behavior—sitting in Duke’s carseat for 5 minutes in the car until he can calm down. And as I grabbed him to take him out to the car, I was in a position, amid all the chaos, to look into his eyes. I was caught off guard by what I saw. I saw into the soul of a very scared, troubled little boy who was completely terrified as to why he couldn’t control his body, or his emotions. His eyes pleaded, “Mom, I have no idea why this is happening. Why am I so angry and why can’t I calm down? I am really, really scared.”

I was completely at a loss for words, but what I really wanted to do was throw up my hands and scream, “Man, totally suck at this!” I can honestly say that all my life I have wanted to be a mom—among a million other professions—and now that I am four years into motherhood, I feel just as clueless as when I started, holding tiny baby Will in the delivery room, not really knowing what I was doing. Is it possible to want something so badly and after all your effort, realize that maybe you're just not very good at it?

I think Heavenly Father sent me that experience to remind me, again, that Will is just as helpless as I am at this whole figuring-out-learning-disabilities thing. We’re both starting from scratch, here. And the learning curve is as steep as Everest—for both of us. We don’t know what we’re doing and we just have to take cues from each other to keep moving forward, one step in front of the other, even though I’m learning the pattern of special needs kiddos is two-steps-forward-one-step-back.

Don’t get me wrong—Will is doing incredibly well under the circumstances and he has improved immensely, but this is definitely a turbulent time for me/us. And more than ever I feel the emotional weight of being a parent of a child with special needs. Cortney is involved as much as he possibly can be, but due to the nature of his work schedule and his availability, that burden has largely fallen on my shoulders. It's me who is shuttling him to and fro to all of his appointments. It's me who is in constant contact with all of his teachers and being the middleman, relaying info between teachers and therapists. It's me who sees all of the day-to-day and worries about all of the tomorrows.

And it gets very heavy.

When I stop and look back at everything I’ve tackled in the last nine months, sometimes I am astounded that person who blazed into the school district and strong armed them into giving Will services, that person who had never heard of Auditory Processing Disorder or Sensory Processing Modulation Disorder in her whole life before her son’s diagnosis, the same person who started a grassroots effort to find qualified and caring therapists for her son’s needs she didn’t even understand, the person who spent countless hours on the internet and as many hours on her knees pleading to know what to do, and who, by and large has succeeded, completely on her own—that was me.

That mother.

That was me.

It was me who seemed to have insurmountable strength and courage in the face of fear and despair and enough faith to move an entire mountain range.
But tonight I am not sure where she is and I am very much alone in this barren, deserted valley, desperate for a break in the clouds and turbulence.

So, tonight, alone, I will breathe.

And breathe.

And breathe.

And move on.

Ohio in our hearts

Yesterday I was getting Will dressed for school and I gave him three options for shirts to wear: a truck, a dinosaur, or his OSU shirt. He picked his OSU shirt, without even contemplating to other ones.

Later that day, we were riding our bikes in an empty parking lot of a country club by our house. Another little girl was riding her bike and she asked Will, "where do you live?" He said, "ohio."

Love that kid. He's so awesome. Constantly amazing me with his drive in life.

This picture makes me laugh every time I look at it. Will usually sleeps with me when Cortney is traveling and this is the face I woke up to one morning. He looks part dog/part boxing survivor.




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Scissors=life changing

Duke discovered scissors yesterday and I think his life has been changed forever. He cut paper for an hour last night and when I told him it was time for the scissors to go to bed, he was so angry and upset he threw up.


This morning he picked up right where he left off and set up camp on the floor behind the table and went to town. Two hours later...


We have paper remnants everywhere... But he's been so happy/content just sitting there cutting, how could I even care? He even sufficiently shredded three bank statements. Who needs a shredder when you have a two year old?


This is how Will fell asleep last night. Looks pretty uncomfortable, but he never seemed to mind. Power of melatonin, once again.


The Bike Gang. We (all of us) ride bikes ALOT since moving here and the boys are no exception. There is a country club by our house with speed bumps in the parking lot and a creek running through it to throw rocks in. The boys sprint on their bikes there everyday to ride over the speed bumps a million times and take breaks throwing rocks in the creek.


Shortly after I took the picture above, Duke went a little too fast down the hill and had a spill resulting in forehead road rash. Still cute though.

I Heart Duke

Since Will started school last week, Duke and I have become best buddies, again, here at home. I cannot tell you how much I love being with him all day! He's soooooo easy to be around and hardly puts up a fight about anything. Each day I'm reminded how different Will and he are at this age. Will was ready to be stimulated at school 7 hours a day by the time he was two. Duke, on the other hand, just loves chilling with me at home. We fill our day with walks around the block, coloring, and playing playdoh, with a nap and lunch and an episode of Super Why somewhere along the way. literally. He's so happy to color at the table for an hour. Something Will probably won't have the patience for until he's 10.


After watching Will go to gymnastics for months, (and Duke screaming because he doesn't get to go in) Duke finally gets to go to gymnastics! We do a mommy and me class on Thursdays, and as expected, he loves it. Here he is stretching. Isn't he so cute?



Duke has become obsessed with holding screwdrivers. He carries one in each hand and it constantly looking for screws in furniture he can tighten. He tells me he is "wick it" meaning "fix it".
I haven't old him that grandpa is
coming in a few months, but maybe Duke has great intuition and has already sensed Grandpa will be coming soon, so he's just getting his tools in shape.


Artist hard at work. Markers are his favorite medium. He is constantly asking me to draw him balloons and he promptly tries to color them in.



Favorite thing about Duke: he puts himself to bed when he's tired. At the end of the day when you're busy doing the dishes/getting Will to bed, Duke might disappear. But don't worry, he's just asleep in his bed and was too tired to wait for you to put him to bed.



Batman socks and track pants, naturally.




Dad is still his favorite person and frequently tries to sneak out the door to go to work with Dad. Cortney rides his bike to the metro and wears a helmet when he leaves the house. This is Duke showing Dad he's all ready to go to work, just like him. Duke is very sad everyday when he can't go to work with Dad.


My Duke loves pizza and pasta (two things Will wont touch). He gets quite excited when I announce we're eating either option. And in this picture, he's eating pizza for breakfast. Yet another reason Duke and Grandpa are kindred spirits (my dad's favorite breakfast is cold pizza).



A few months ago, I made an impulse purchase on a new car seat for Duke. It just looked so comfy in comparison with his beat up one (and it was on clearance). We pulled it out of the box and you would have thought we gave him a million dollars. Every time we got in the car, Duke's grin was so wide when he would sit in his new special seat. Lesson learned: sometimes you just need to go to the store and buy something brand new for the 2nd child, because it means the world to them.

Duke, my love and respect for you has grown exponentially the last 12 months. I have no doubt that you are a wise, kind, sweeter than pie spirit. You were given such a big heart and you are such a source of joy to us and everyone you meet. No question, your sweetness was the glue that held our family together this last year. There were so many times when your needs were pushed aside because Will needed so much of our constant attention, and you seemed to be ok, even cordial about that, never minding taking a backseat to your brother's needs. You are so giving that way, especially towards Will. You are also the most polite two year-old I have ever met-please and thank you for everything.

Sweet Duke, I love you so much. Thank you for being in our family. You've stolen my heart, once again.

Granola Baked Apples- Dessert and Breakfast in One

Sorry, the presentation isn't that great. I made it in a foil pan because we're taking it to the volunteer firefighters today.

There are very few things you can make for dessert, that can also classify as an almost healthy breakfast. This is one of them. I took my favorite apple crisp recipe and cut way back on the sugar and butter, and left one sweet dessert/breakfast/side dish.

Fill a 9x13 with peeled, cored, sliced apples (large slices), about halfway up the sides of the pan. About 10 apples.

In a small bowl, combine:

1/2 c sugar
1 T flour
1/2T-1 T cinnamon (depending on your cinnamon preferences)
1/4 t nutmeg

Sprinkle liberally over apples.

In another bowl combine:

1 c oatmeal
2/3 c flour
1/2 c brown sugar
1/4 t baking soda
1/4 t baking powder
1/4 c chopped pecans
5 T melted butter

Combine until a crumbly, somewhat wet, mixture. Crumble over apples.

Bake at 350 for 20 min or until apples are at desired softness.

A bunch of random pictures that don't make sense

Popsicles on the front steps.




Free carousel rides from our summer pool pass. The boys usually rode it three times after exiting the pool before we hit the road to go home.




At the zoo.



Real men clean the kitchen while singing along to En Vogue.




A goat at the zoo. Will said it was a beaver.




Will said this was a picture of his dad. I, personally, love the short yellow legs.




Do I look like I work at JCrew? Because I do...




Will said this was a "race".




If you're hungry for Mac and cheese, I found some on our bathroom doorknob.




A visit from uncle Chris. Always welcomed.