Perspective

I posted not that long ago that Aaron's imagination and creativity have really taken off over the past several months. It's been so fun to watch and it's been a very clear testament to the fact that his perspective is often very different than that of those around him. He thinks up amazing and elaborate mazes, games and is constantly creating things at his little desk in the kitchen.

One of the things that I love the most about his growth in this area is his eye for potential. He entered some things in the children's department of our State Fair this summer and one category is "recycled class". Anything created from recycled materials of any sort qualify. He wasn't able to get this particular project done in time, but it ignited something in him. He now loves, loves, LOVES to take just about anything we'd consider trash and recycle it.

After a few weeks of this, I'll admit it started to become a bit annoying. I could not throw out anything without him saying "hey, do you think I could recycle that?" We started having battles over what was okay to recycle (an empty cereal box) and what wasn't okay (the peel from a banana). I had to pick my battles and we had a lot of tears and frustration when either a)I said No or b) I said yes and then he figured out on his own that it didn't work or was a bad idea. We dealt with siblings getting annoyed and worked on both his reaction to that and their reaction to him.

While at times I am tempted to be frustrated, annoyed and impatient over this, especially with the mess it makes in my kitchen every day, it takes just a second to bring me back to center. I only need to remember where we were 6-8 mos ago, a year ago, 2 yrs ago and so on. He's come far. He's growing and changing every day. To remember that it wasn't that long ago when a piece of paper before him would either remain blank or he'd copy a siblings picture and now he creates his own. It wasn't that long ago when he'd dress up because someone gave him the costume, but then he'd sit nearby and do his own thing. Whereas now he will actually participate a good deal of the time and even come up with his own ideas sometimes.

I can't say I'll never be impatient or annoyed, but I can say that I hope I will never take his perspective for granted. I'll never stop being amazed at how his brain works. I'll never stop being thankful that he's working hard every day to share his perspective more and more. This child that once shared very little now wants to share every thought, every idea, every neat thing he creates. I'll never miss the significance that this boy who once paid little attention to things around him now picks up just about anything and creates something out of it.

Perspective is everything.

Yes, we have far to go in some areas, but we've come so far and every day I see his potential more.

I learned that from him you know.

This eye for potential.

It comes from a shift in perspective...

Seeing treasure instead of trash.

Seeing growth instead of lack.

Seeing adventure instead of obstacles.

Where some see just a scrap of paper,



Aaron sees

a lock and key.


Where some see a bunch of wood,



Aaron sees



a pirate's ship.



Where some see a child with a list of diagnoses or a child that seems to be "one of those" kids, the ones that just need a spanking or need to know who's boss or any of the other judgmental things we've heard over the years. (For those of you that read that and say "He's the sweetest kid ever, I can't imagine him acting like that. Well, I'll just say you've not been around him enough. You've probably been around him in a structured, controlled environment where he generally does well. If you could ask the security guard at the mall recently that watched with disdain as I wrestled him and practically had to sit on him to keep him safe you'd probably not hear that he is a sweet child. If you asked the parents at the park that witness his difficulty in leaving the park 9 times out of 10 you'd probably not hear that he's a sweet obedient boy. While he is indeed a sweet, sweet boy his struggles are very real and very present in his life whether you see it in your short times with him or not.)



I see,

my sweet, funny, determined, strong and amazing Aaron.


I see,

(unprompted here, he decided to dress up like George Washington)
progress and growth.


I see,

(2nd place for his age group in the state junior duck stamp contest)
potential. Not so much in tangible ribbons and rewards tied to his performance, but the potential that really matters.
The potential to do big things.
The potential to take small steps that really make up the big leaps in life.
The potential to change the world every time he shares his perspective.

School is in session

Today was the first day of school here at FreeWater Academy for the 2011-2012 school year.

One day done, 179 to go, but who's counting?

This past school year was very difficult on many levels. Our entire family was sick a lot with various upper respiratory and GI viruses so just getting school done was often a challenge. We encountered several educational issues as well as some personal issues of my own thrown in the mix. Obviously we also had the already numerous challenges that we face on the table.

I found myself wondering a lot if homeschooling was really the right option for us.

I found myself even more often insisting that it wasn't the right option simply because I didn't want to do it anymore.

In all of our years of homeschooling, we've done mostly year round schooling. That is, we've chosen to take breaks here and there as needed/desired instead of taking a long summer break.

With all of the turmoil, we opted to take the summer off almost completely this year. It was a rough summer. Very rough for many reasons, but one being that the kids really needed the structure and routine that comes with the school year.

Despite the difficulties, it was a breath of fresh air for me to take this summer break. I was able to focus on being mom instead of teacher. Of course, the two are very intertwined and the teacher hat is never far away. However, I did not have to focus energy on deliberate or specific teaching goals. I was able to simply be mom and make use of teachable moments as they happened.

As a result, I was able to refocus a bit, recenter myself and recommit to homeschooling my crew for one more year. I spent much time talking with Kev, praying and really evaluating the situation. It was nice to have the chance to look at it without the emotion and frustration of day to day. Taking a break allowed me to get outside of the moment and really look at why things weren't working, to figure out what I could control and accept what was beyond my control. I was able to really look at other schooling options and see how they may or may not be a good fit.

We made the decision to homeschool before Jerald was ever born, before we even married actually. Our ideals then of what it would be like are very far from what our reality has been. We had no idea we'd face the challenges we do, that our children would have special needs. Our plan from the beginning has been to take it one year at a time and re-evaluate.

Most years we've not really re-evaluated much because homeschooling was going well and we didn't see much need to consider other options. It was hard to accept that this year needed a deeper look.

We aren't in the "homeschooling is the only way" camp, but so far we have found that to be the best option for us. While I'm sure this year will have many struggles, we still think it's the right choice for us for now.

I know the new year will have it's challenges, but tonight I'm focusing on it's hopes and opportunities. We didn't have a stellar day, a few things were left undone and the afternoon was a bit difficult. Overall though it was a great day. In fact, for one child in particular it was his best day in months.

Tomorrow is a new day and there is always hope for tomorrow!

Onward we march...1 day down 179 to go, I'm packing an awful lot of hope in that 179 days!


Jerald 7th grade (his glasses were broken when he accidentally stepped on them and the new ones haven't arrived yet)



Rocklin 5th grade



Magdalyn 4th grade



Aaron 1st grade



Parker Kindergarten Notice the hole in his shirt? This is what happens with little boys that cannot stop chewing everything and anything all the time :-(


To give you the full effect, here is Parker's entire outfit for the day: Daddy's t-shirt, his favorite Thomas t-shirt layered over top and his rain boots. Yes, he has khakis and polos filling up the closet, but I have bigger battles. He's dressed, he's happy, he did his schoolwork without a problem, that's what's important to me today.

Always on guard

I guess when you live in a house with five kids you should always sleep with one eye open, one ear tuned in...



A dog never knows when someone will want to sit on him, dress him up, pretend to take his temperature or listen to his heartbeat, brush his fur, brush his teeth, or rub his belly.

He must always be on guard, especially ready for the camera. Those pesky little rebels always seem to be getting in his face with the camera.

I'm not a dog person. I only have dogs because the kids want them.

He irritates me and I pretend I don't like him.

Really though, he's always been great with my kids and despite his unfriendliness towards others he adores them, protects them, puts up with them and has learned to ignore them when he isn't interested in their shenanigans.

He's getting old, he's getting grumpy, but he's still a pretty good dog and loves his little people.

He really oughta sleep with his eyes open on guard for me to kick him off my couch...

Sloppy hugs

When Jerald was just a little guy, probably around a year old, he started a tradition.

Every time he got out of the tub, still dripping wet, he'd grab whichever parent was bathing him and say, "swoppy hugs". He especially loved to do this to Kev. The reaction from daddy was much more dramatic because daddy doesn't like to get wet. Then mom or dad, holding the towel would wrap it around him, give him a bear hug and then do the "drying machine". A noisy, silly, rough way of drying him off. We didn't know it at the time, but this was one way of giving him the deep pressure, sensory input that he needed.

We continued this little routine until he was old enough to start doing his own showers.

His siblings have all enjoyed the drying machine, but none of them ever did the sloppy hugs. It was a special thing with just Jerald.

A memory I cherish as my boy is growing up so very fast.

A memory that was brought to the forefront of my mind this afternoon, while bathing Parker.

He's getting pretty independent, but I still like to be nearby and he still needs my help with washing his hair. I was kneeling on the floor next to the tub while he finished up.

He stood up.

Gave me his goofy grin that translates as "I'm about to do something ornery"

He said, "You are the BEST mama in the whole wide world."

before I could respond, he leaned forward

grabbed me into a bear hug

laughed

and said

"and now you are also the WETTEST mama in the whole wide world."


I may not get paid in riches or appreciation outside of these walls, but hugs...wet, sloppy ones or otherwise are a nice bonus for having the best job in the world!


July 2011: Parker discovered the fun of making "hair statues"

It's that time of year again...Football!

(from the 2010 season)

He's not the fastest, toughest or most skilled player on the team.
He's not likely headed for the NFL.

That doesn't matter.
I couldn't be prouder of this boy and football has little to do with it.

He doesn't play because his friends do. He doesn't have any friends that play football.

He doesn't play because his dad pushes him to play. His dad doesn't actually care much about football.

He doesn't play because it's something to do. He has plenty of other things he could be doing with his time.

He plays because he loves the game and has since he was under two years old.

This boy has lived with joint pain nearly every day since 18 months old, maybe even before that, but he couldn't tell us. You'd never know it unless you are one of the few closest to him to see his subtle signs. The grimace on his face as he bends and twists trying to get relief. The wincing and moans as he tries to get up and moving after periods of being still for too long. The constant moving...bending knees, rolling shoulders, bending fingers.
He's not a complainer.
He will never tell you that he hurts, unless you are his parents or his doctor and even then he hesitates...a nod, a shrug, a pointing finger to where it hurts the worse in that moment. That doesn't mean it's not there. It's there every single day in varying degrees. He will not let it stop him from doing things he loves.

Often he battles dizzyness, nausea, ringing in his ears, headaches. When he first put on a football helmet last year, after years of dreaming of it, he almost quit. It was too much. The helmet bouncing on his head made his already pounding head feel like it would explode. He fought through it. He was not going to let this destroy his dream.

Anxiety and selective mutism are constant companions and it feels like he's in a chokehold, unable to get words out even when he tries. He pushes past the fear and puts himself out there anyway. He's getting more comfortable this year...answering simple yes/no questions and counting through warm up exercises, albeit quietly. He isn't the one that's going to be vocal, boisterous and get the team riled up. He will be there though, just as committed and just as ecstatic as everyone else, even if you don't see it.

GI troubles: reflux, food allergies/sensitivities, abdominal pain are along for the ride too. Like everything else, he fights through it and pushes forward.

He has nothing to prove, yet every time he steps on that field he is proving that victory is about far more than a football game. It's about far more than winning, losing or even playing well.

We think Victory is in those big moments...

When a game is won.

When the underdog rises up to be a star.

When all seems lost and seemingly out of nowhere there is triumph.

Certainly, those are times of victory and rejoicing.

I believe, however, that sometimes our biggest victories come in much smaller moments, with much less fanfare.

When we sacrifice our dreams to live out something completely different.

When we die to self and serve others.

When a child speaks for the first time at 10,
or ties his shoes at 12,
or first sits and listens to a book being read at 7
or potty trains at 6
and a million other similar small moments that really are the big moments...the big victories.

Last night was one of those victory moments. Seemingly small. Unseen. Unspoken. Yet it spoke volumes.

Rocklin had a very difficult afternoon yesterday. He felt terrible. The "usual stuff" all added up with a whopper of a headache and horrible nauseousness tossed in for good measure.

At 4pm, he wasn't sure he'd be able to make it through 2.5hrs of football practice in full gear and the heat. It was his call. While I'm a firm believer in honoring our commitments and I expect my kids to play if we pay for a sport, I will never force them when it's clear they have a legitimate reason not to play.

He opted to go and hoped he'd feel better once he got out there.

He didn't. In fact, he felt worse.

He is not prone to crying. I've seen him in excruciating pain, barely able to move and still he rarely sheds a tear.

Last night the tears came.

Not a lot. He tried hard to keep it together. Yet, as he sat in my chair during a water break, the tears flowed silently down his cheek. His lip quivered as he said, "I think I need to go home."

Again it was his call, but each time he chose not to tell the coach he felt horrible and needed to leave. He was determined to try and push through it. Each water break got him a little closer to being finished and gave him a little more encouragement to keep fighting.

If you were on the sidelines you could tell he wasn't 100 percent, yet despite appearances he was giving all he had in the circumstances.

Perseverance and determination aren't always visible or tangible, but they are always on the road to victory.

I'd still be proud of him if he had tried and found himself unable to go on. The victory is not found in reaching the end. It's found in the pushing and giving of everything you have in every moment of life...sports or otherwise. Reaching the goal, winning the game, getting a reward...those make the victory sweeter, but they aren't the foundation of victory.

He's not the fastest, toughest or most skilled player on the team.
He's not likely headed for the NFL.

That doesn't matter.
I couldn't be more proud of my boy and football has nothing to do with it.

Stairsteps

Summer of 2004



2008 (someone was unhappy about lining up)







2011 (Aaron's grumpie face is intentional. We are working on recognizing facial expressions and he likes practicing for pictures)



(this is Aaron's surprise face. Also, this pic describes him perfectly...beats to his own drum, goes against the flow, does things his own way. I said, "everyone flip to the side" and I opted not to "correct" him to my way.)

12 years with Jerald

Dear Jerald,

Happy, Happy birthday!! It's been a wild ride full of unexpected trials and overwhelming triumphs. You have challenged me, tested me, overwhelmed me, exhausted me and taught me more about life and love than I could ever imagine. This year of 11 has been an especially difficult one on several levels. Yet, it's also been a great year of milestones and victories big and small.

Through it all...the setbacks, the struggles, the times I've nearly lost my sanity and the progress, connectedness and triumphs...love has been the glue and the fuel that's kept us going and kept us together.

I'm so completely in awe that your Creator, the one that holds the world in His hands, and knows the number of hairs on your head would love me so much that he'd give me the gift of you!

I fail on a daily basis.

Sometimes hourly.

Sometimes majorly.

Yet you always love, always forgive...always without condition.

I love your passion for life and learning.

I love your determination to master things that often come easy to others.

I love your servant's heart and how quickly and freely you will give of yourself...your talent, your knowledge, your time, your things, your money, your love.

I love your giggles when you find delight in something you read or hear.

I love how you encourage others to do and be their best.

I love your love for trivia and that you randomly share things with me. Like the fact that you share your birthday with Elisha Otis, the inventor of one of your favorite things...the elevator.

I love that even at 12 you are still super excited when daddy gets home each night and you miss him when he's gone.

I love that you like to call me mommy or mama llama still and have no problem giving me a hug in front of scores of kids that think their parents are just annoying sources of money and food.

I love that you like to share scripture with others no matter if it means that you get teased.

I love that you are way more computer/tech savvy than I'll ever be and that you get a kick out of helping me.

I love that you celebrate every milestone you meet with tremendous pride and excitement no matter how small the moment or how long it takes you to get there.

I love that you are completely comfortable getting onstage to sing and that it never even crosses your mind to be nervous.


I love you, Jerald Thomas! I can't wait to see what's in store for you during this year of twelve!

Love,

Mama llama