Tag: Life

Mean Mom

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My darling 8-year-old daughter drew this picture for me the other night.

Yes, that’s a picture of me, Josie’s “at times mean” mom. Based on the picture she drew of me, I was having one of my mean moments. And to be sure that the message was clear, she reiterated the “at times mean” part in the heart she drew next to my portrait.

When she gave me this masterpiece, I could tell she was a little apprehensive of what my reaction would be.

What did I do?

I laughed and agreed with her.

I am 100% okay with her describing me this way. I’m even okay with her drawing me to look like that. 

Had she said I was hateful or hurtful, then that would have absolutely bothered me.

But for her to call me mean doesn’t bother me at all.

Because sometimes I am “mean”.

I love my daughter. I adore her, really. She is by far one of my very favorite humans on this planet.

And every day I am doing my best to raise her to be a kind, compassionate, responsible human.

And believe it or not, she does not always comply nor appreciate my efforts.

Not too long ago, I was at my wit’s end with her. After a particularly trying stretch of sassiness, I ended up telling her that I wasn’t going to tell her what do to anymore because she was clearly grown and did not need me to tell her what to do. I also told her that the next day she needed to go find a job and start paying me rent and for her own clothes, groceries, etc.

I’m pretty sure Tyson told her it would be in her best interest to stay away from me for the rest of the evening.

I remember sitting by myself later that evening thinking about Mary. (As in Jesus’ mom.)

First of all, did Jesus get an attitude with her? Did he question everything she told him and tell her that she was wrong? Did he give 50% effort at the tasks she gave him to do? Did he complain every single time he had to take a bath???

If so, how did she handle herself? Was she able to remain calm and patient? Did she ever raise her voice? Did she tell him not to come complaining to her when he got cold because he refused to dress appropriately for the colder weather? Did she tell him to go get a job when he was 8?

Surely Jesus did not put his mother (or father) through these trials. But if he had, how would she have reacted?

I have no doubt her reaction would be the exact opposite of mine on many, if not most, occasions. (After all, she was full of grace, and I am definitely not.) But I do like to think that I do at least one thing that she might have done. And that’s to ask God to help me. To help guide me in teaching and disciplining this headstrong, independent, too-smart-for-her-own-good daughter of mine so that she becomes the person He designed her to be and wants her to be. So that she leads a happy, fulfilling life.

I think she knows that I want nothing but the best for her. I tell her why I want her to be ready to work hard, learn from her mistakes, be kind to others, and shower regularly. Whether or not she’s listening is really the question.

Most importantly, I know that she knows that I love her. And not just because she drew not one but two hearts in her picture. But because I tell her that all the time. And I do my best to show her that all the time, too.

Even when I’m being mean.

The Magic of Acceptance and Inclusion

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A few weeks ago, my parents gave my brother, sister, me, and our families the gift of a Disney cruise to Alaska. There were so many amazing things about the entire trip – especially getting to have our entire family together for a week. However, there was one experience that stood out for me and I will never forget it.

On the third day of the cruise, the ship docked in Skagway, Alaska. We spent the morning driving up into the mountains and enjoying seeing the beauty of the mountains, lakes, and waterfalls that surrounded us. And by we I mean Tyson and me. Josie and Moses were bored to tears.

That afternoon, Tyson and Josie went ziplining so I took Moses back to the ship. We went up to the pool deck where there was a place for him to get some chicken strips and for me to get an adult beverage.

While we were sitting at our table, one of the ship’s lifeguards walked by. He saw Moses and said, “Hey buddy! How are you?”

After a morning of sitting in a vehicle bored out of his mind, Moses wasn’t in the best of moods, so he responded with a very firm, “No.”

Undeterred, the lifeguard continued to try to talk to Moses and get him to engage with him. Also undeterred, Moses refused his efforts.

The lifeguard said, “What’s your name?” (Side note – That he asked Moses directly what his name was instead of asking me earned this guy a gold star in my book. He did not assume that Moses couldn’t or wouldn’t answer him. It was awesome.)

When Moses didn’t answer him, I said, “This is Moses. He’s had a long morning and is obviously pretty cranky.”

The lifeguard laughed and said, “Give me 10 minutes and I’ll win him over.”

Well, it had already been at least 3 minutes, so I figured if this guy wanted to be rejected for another 7, that was his choice.

He gave it a good effort for a few more minutes and then said, “Okay. I’ll leave you alone now, Moses.”

As he started to walk away, I said, “Moses, do you want to tell him ‘bye’?” At that, Moses turned and gave the lifeguard a big wave and “Bye!”

A smile lit up the lifeguard’s face and he said, “Yes! I knew I could do it!” He came back over and asked for a high-five and a fist bump, both of which Moses gladly gave him.

Four days later, we were at sea on our way back to Vancouver. Josie had been waiting all week to go down the big waterslide on the ship, so she got her swimsuit on and went up the stairs to the top of the ship and where the waterslide started. There was a monitor on the deck where we could see when it was her turn so we could be ready to watch her as she came down the slide. Tyson and Moses missed her first run, but they were there for the second. When we saw that she was next, Tyson took Moses over to where he could watch her come down.

When she did, we all clapped and cheered for her. The lifeguard on duty turned and said, “Moses! Hey buddy! Do you want to do it?”

I’ll be honest, I had totally forgotten about the lifeguard and his encounter with Moses 4 days before. But he hadn’t. He even remembered his name.

Moses answered with a big nod of his head and a clear “Yes!”

Tyson and I looked at each other. Moses loves to slide. And he’s gone down some pretty big ones. But none as big and as long as this one and a waterslide at that.

I asked Moses, “You want to go down the waterslide?”

He again said, “Yes!”

Tyson looked at the lifeguard and asked, “Can he go down it? Is he old enough?”

The lifeguard said, “Sure he can go down it! It doesn’t matter the age. He just has to be 36″ tall, which he is, so he can do it.”

So I ran down to our room, grabbed Moses’ swimsuit, and made my way back up to the 9th deck as quickly as possible. Tyson got Moses changed into his swimsuit and then took him over to where the lifeguard was standing. He told him that he could walk up to the top with him or he could go with Josie, who was standing right there waiting. He said, “Either way, I’ll be right here when he comes down to help him if he needs it. He’ll be fine.”

With that, Josie took Moses’ hand and led the way up the stairs to the top of the slide. Tyson and I stood watching the monitor anxiously waiting to see the top of Moses’ head. A couple of minutes later, there he was, impatiently waiting his turn with Josie doing her best to keep him in line.

When it was finally his turn, he stepped over the lip of the slide entrance, sat down, and pushed himself forward. No hesitation. No fear.

When he came sliding down into view, he was backwards and on his belly. He hit the water at the end, sat up, and was met with cheers from my parents, my sister, Tyson, me, and the lifeguard. Just as he promised, the lifeguard was right there waiting for Moses. He clapped for Moses, gave him two big thumbs up, and high-fived him as he walked to the end. As Moses got out, the first thing he did was say, “Again!”

Sliding down to his own personal cheering section.
Hi-five from the most amazing lifeguard ever.

I lost count of how many times Moses went down the waterslide that afternoon.

If it hadn’t been for that lifeguard, I don’t know that Moses would have gone down that waterslide. It wouldn’t have been because he didn’t want to or because he couldn’t. It would’ve been because Tyson and I would have been too nervous to let him do it. That waterslide was really big and there wasn’t the option of one of us going down with him.

Some people may be thinking, “That’s the magic of Disney.”

I disagree.

This moment was brought to us by the magic of an individual practicing acceptance and inclusion. The magic of looking past stereotypes and focusing on abilities instead of limitations. The magic of seeing a person for who he is rather than his diagnosis.

There is no doubt in my mind that God made sure that our paths crossed with that lifeguard. He knew that some of us, including myself, needed the reminder that it’s not up to us to decide what Moses is or is not capable of. Moses can do that just fine on his own.

Stay Out of the Way

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While we were at the playground this evening, Moses went over to a fairly tall, steep climbing wall. As he put his foot on the first step, I thought to myself, “I don’t think he can climb this.” Instead of going over to help him, though, I just stayed back out of the way and kept my mouth shut.

He went to step up on the second step, and then stopped and got off the wall. He ran back towards the slide he had been going down, but instead of stopping, he ran past it.

He ran to a shorter, less steep climbing wall on a different structure. And climbed right up it. It took him a little extra effort to pull himself up and over the top, but he did it.

So tonight’s parenting lesson brought to me by Moses was to stay out of the way. My job as his mom is not to decide what he is or is not able to do. My job is to give him the opportunity to try and support him in his efforts. If he needs help, he’ll ask for it. More often than not, however, he doesn’t need my help.

How many times do we as parents get in the way of our kids showing us, and themselves, what they can do because we decide for them whether or not they can do something? Or decide that they need help because they’re not doing it quickly or easily enough, or because it’s not the “right” (i.e. our) way?

Our kids are capable of amazing things. And they’ll be happy to show us if we’ll just stay out of their way.

God’s Delight

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Last Christmas, I was looking on Amazon for a couple of books for Josie and Moses when I came across one title “When God Made You” by Matthew Paul Turner. On the cover is a beautiful little girl who looks like she’s in the middle of a free fall. Her arms are spread wide, her eyes are closed, and she has a hint of a smile on her face. She looks like a little girls who is confident that she is safe and loved.

More than anything I want Josie to grow up knowing that she is so loved and that her dad and I do everything we can to keep her safe. (One of us would actually wrap her in bubble wrap and make her wear a helmet every day if he could.) Since Moses was born, I am very aware of the extra attention he sometimes requires, especially when it comes to his health and safety. Because I know Josie hears a lot of the conversations that center around him, I make an intentional effort to make sure she knows we care just as much about her being healthy and safe. When I saw this book, I thought it would be a great way to remind her not only of that but also what a beautiful child of God she is.

When we read this book for the first time, I wasn’t prepared to get choked up reading it. At least not for the reason I did.

The book starts out with exactly the kind of message I wanted Josie to hear:

“You, you, when God made YOU, God made you all shiny and new.

An incredible you, a you all your own, a you unlike anyone else ever known.“

The book continues to explain how perfectly and beautifully God created this little girl (and my little girl) to be exactly the way He wanted her to be.

And then a few more pages into the book, I read the words:

“You, you, when God sees you, God delights in what is and sees only what’s true.

That you – yes YOU – in all of your glory, bring color and rhythm and rhyme to God’s story.”

That’s when I felt a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. Not because those words are true for Josie and Moses and every child God creates, which they absolutely are.

It was because those words are true for me, too.

Even though I’m a 40-year-old mother of two who feels tired, frustrated, and downright cranky more often than not, God sees ME.

And not only does he SEE me, He DELIGHTS in me!

I don’t know where along the road of life that I forgot that no matter how old I am or how cranky I may get sometimes, God knows the true me and loves me. And not only that, He delights in me!

There’s something about knowing that I can delight God simply by being the me He intended me to be – the same way my children delight me every day just by being themselves – that makes me feel lighter. That puts a smile on my face and warmth in my heart.

I have found that I do have to remind myself that the me He delights in is the me that He created me to be:

“…a giver who lives with all heart, soul, and mind.

A dreamer who dreams in big and small themes, one who keeps dreaming in journeys upstream.

…

A confident you, strong and brave, too.”

There’s something about being reminded of God’s delight, in addition to His love, that makes me want to be the best me I can be every single day. It helps me when I start to experience those all too familiar thoughts of self-doubt:

“Am I doing enough?”

“Am I too emotional?”

“Am I talking too much?”

“Is my laugh too loud?”

“Do people really like being around me?”

“Should I have kept those thoughts to myself?”

Knowing God made me with the exact personality traits He knew I would need to do His work, and that he finds it delightful when I am using them to do His work, gives me the strength and courage to push those thoughts away and keep going.

It seems like for some of us, as we get older (and possibly crankier), when we hear things like “children of God”, we think only of the chronologically young people. It does us so much good, though, to remember that no matter how old (or cranky) we get, we are always included in that phrase.

“‘Cause when God made you, somehow God knew, that the world needed someone exactly like you.”

Three Hundred Eighteen Days

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Almost a year ago, three hundred eighteen days to be exact, I shared about reaching my breaking point. Physically, mentally, and emotionally I was exhausted. I was burned out from investing too much time and energy into people and things outside of myself and not consistently investing enough quality time and energy in myself.

I didn’t get to that place overnight, and I knew that getting back to a place of health – physically, mentally, and emotionally – would take time. Sure, I could have gone to my doctor and asked for an increase in my antidepressant medication, and I’m sure that would’ve “helped”. However, deep down I knew that what I was experiencing wasn’t depression (although it was definitely part of it), and putting the band-aid of more medication wasn’t going to get down to the root of the issues I was experiencing.

There was no magic formula I followed to improve my overall health. I didn’t follow a particular program or introduce anything radically new into my life (other than planning to take a leave of absence from work which got the Covid-wrench thrown into it). Instead I found that what I needed was already in my life…I just needed to utilize my time, energy, and resources differently.

First off, I prayed. A lot. I’m not just talking saying a few extra Our Fathers. There were a lot of big conversations between God and me happening. Some of them were a lot of me asking “Why?” about a multitude of different things; others were of the begging nature in which I pleaded with him to just make it all go away and show me the fast, easy road back to “normal”; then there were the ones in which I surrendered to Him and just asked Him to hold me because I couldn’t hold myself up any longer. 

The weekend before I was supposed to begin my leave of absence, I was invited by a couple of friends to join them in a 40-day yoga and personal growth challenge. Through that, I did find that doing yoga daily helped me improve my physical health. I don’t know if you’ve ever done yoga, but some of those poses are hard. And then you have to hold them for forever. Even though I wanted to give up pretty much every day in the beginning, I stuck with it and found myself getting stronger and not hating all the hard poses so much. I also found that my mental health was improving from both the nature of yoga and being focused as well as being pretty proud of my progress.

Sleep became a priority. I found a sleep app that tracked not only how long I slept but also how much light and restful sleep I got. I have learned that: a) I feel best when I get 7 hours of restful sleep; b) too much alcohol before I went to bed decreases my restful sleep; c) exercise typically increases my amount of restful sleep; d) not enough sleep usually mean I’m not going to be as peppy and patient throughout the next day; e) the less sleep I get directly affects my eating habits the next day (and not in a healthy way). Overall, I learned that sleep is essential to my overall health.

I started watching The Office. As a school counselor, I have learned about the science behind how laughter affects the brain and can improve your mood and mental health, which is why I knew that if I was going to watch something, it had to be my kind of funny. Michael, Dwight, Jim, Pam, Stanley, and the rest of the crew at Dunder Mifflin are my kind of funny!

With the help of my husband and my counselor, I began to reconcile with things from my past that were still affecting me even though I thought I had put those people and things behind me. I learned the true meaning of forgiving and letting go of the pain of the past. I learned how to finally forgive myself for the hardships and the mental and emotional pain I had inflicted upon myself and endured from others.

I rediscovered the importance of not comparing myself to others. Although I am nowhere near the perfectionist I once was, I still fell into the trap of comparing myself to other women in various ways – physically, spiritually, intellectually, professionally, etc. I stopped following people and groups on social media that served to be a source of unhealthy comparison rather than positive inspiration.

I experienced the beautiful power of relationships. Throughout my life, I have had the opportunity to meet and know some truly amazing people, and firmly believe in the idea that people have come into my life for “a reason, a season, or a lifetime”. I have been especially thankful for the people in my life who have supported me and cheered me on during this turbulent season of life. These people have helped me to remember who I am and who I wanted to get back to being. For their love, support, and encouragement, I am forever grateful.

Finally, and most importantly, I was patient with myself. As fantastic as it would’ve been if I had woken up after the end of the first week or even the first month, thrown off the covers, and announced, “I’m baaaack! All better!”, that didn’t happen. Sometimes it seemed like I was moving backwards and sometimes I felt like I wasn’t moving at all towards feeling better. Then there were the “A-HA!” moments and days that I could feel myself moving forward that helped me to know I was on the right track. There were the glimpses of the “me” that I had been missing that motivated me to keep working.

Three hundred eighteen days and counting. (Because I’m working every day to maintain my progress…I haven’t put in all this work to go back to where I was!)

Why have I worked so hard to gain control over my overall health for the last three-hundred eighteen days?

Simple. (Kind of.)

I did it for me.

Because I deserve it. I deserve to feel good physically, mentally, and emotionally. Because God didn’t create me to lead a life of sadness, hopelessness, frustration, and gloom. Taking care of myself – mind, body, and soul – has helped me to love who I am again. It’s helped me to be a much better wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, and advocate. Taking care of myself benefits everyone in my life. 

I know that I’m not alone in feeling lost, alone, unhappy, burned out, etc. My hope for anyone reading this thinking, “Where do I start?” Start where you’re at. Make today your Day 1. Your journey will most likely look very different from mine, but you’ll never know what yours looks like until you start. Once you start, take it day-by-day, hour-by-hour, minute-by-minute. You’re worth every second.     

Where I’m Supposed to Be

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I’m where I’m supposed to be.

This is the mantra that has gotten me through this week as I’ve found myself struggling to make sense of life these days. 

This isn’t new territory, either. A couple of months ago, I was going through some old things and I came across a letter I had written to God. I can remember writing it like it was last week instead of 12 years ago. At that time, I was definitely not where I wanted to be. To be honest, I felt like I was on the road to nowhere and I was lost even trying to find my way there. Not exactly what I had pictured my life looking like at 27. 

In the letter, I poured my heart out to God. All the thoughts and feelings of anger and frustration, sadness and loneliness, confusion and fear. I asked Him to help me know what to do to help myself. 

Here I am 12 years later in a much different season of my life yet feeling those same emotions and a little lost again. And this time it’s not just myself I have to worry about. The stakes are definitely much higher now, and my sense of urgency to know what to do to help myself and my family is much more intense.

Where am I? 

I’m at home.

I’m serving my family. I’m cooking meals, washing dishes, doing laundry, and cleaning up messes. I’m cheering for my daughter as she learns to make a lowercase ‘a’ and for my son as he correctly identifies objects when given two choices. I’m rocking outdoor recess duty. I’m snuggling with Josie when she crawls into bed with me each morning and rocking Moses at naptime because he wants me to. I’m taking deep breaths so I don’t completely lose my temper and reminding myself to keep small problems small. I’m asking for hugs and forgiveness when I fail to do both. I’m excited to see my husband when he gets home so I get to talk to an adult and hear about the outside world. 

When I was at work, I would often announce “I’m going to go change lives!” Now I feel like the only thing I’m changing is diapers. 

Believe you me when I say that I NEVER saw myself as a housewife and definitely not as a stay-at-home mom. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with either of those by any means. It’s hard work and the pay is horrible. I’m one “official” week in and I’m ready to turn in my two-week notice. 

But I’m supposed to be here. Even when I don’t want to wash another dish, it feels right. I don’t have the luxury of knowing why I’m doing exactly what I never wanted to do, but I do have the luxury of trusting that God knows why I’m here and will help me to understand when I’m supposed to. 

Over the last 12 years I have learned that life isn’t about getting where you want to be and staying there. It’s about continuing to live and experience and learn and grow, and that still includes going through some growing pains at times.

I’m where I’m supposed to be. 

And who knows? This may end up being the best place I’ve been to yet.

The Next Right Thing

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A couple of years ago, my church was offering a book to the parishioners called Perfectly Yourself by Matthew Kelly. As a person who spent the first half of her life striving to be perfect in various ways, there was no way I could pass up this book. 

As I began reading, I appreciated how the author described our quest here on Earth as to become the best version of ourselves. And how that might look different from day-to-day. It was as if I was being given permission to be less than perfect. To be human. And for that to be okay as long as I did my best every day to be the best version of myself. 

One of the guiding principles to achieving that goal was to always look to do the next right thing. That sounded simple enough, and it proved very helpful in guiding my decisions at home and at work. Looking back, the season of life I was in was relatively calm (as calm as life can be with two toddlers) and I wasn’t faced with many difficult situations and the concept made its way to the back of my mind. 

I never finished the book even though it stayed right there on the table by my bed. Then a few months ago, I decided to revisit it. 

This time I took my time reading through it and underlining parts that stuck out to me. Today I looked back and found two passages that I had underlined: 

“We seem to spend endless hours planning and worrying about some distant future that is promised to none of us, and yet effortlessly overlook the fact that how we deal with the here and now will determine what the future looks like.” (p. 48)

Little did I know that just a few short months later, I was going to find myself in this exact situation. Where not only was I constantly looking ahead and trying to prevent my worst nightmare from happening, I was focused more on what I could not control (i.e. other people) than on what I could (i.e. myself). The result was that I was mentally and emotionally drained. I felt lonely and frustrated and defeated at almost every turn. And then I came to the point where I couldn’t go on like that. It wasn’t healthy for me, and it wasn’t healthy for my family which I was desperate to protect. 

Which brings me to another passage I had underlined:

“The truth is that we almost always do [know what the next right thing is]. More than 99 percent of the time, you will know what the next right thing for you to do is if you quiet yourself for a moment and go to that place deep within you.” (p. 49) 

In my efforts to try to control the situation and appeal to others to see and do things the way I needed them to, I found myself in the midst of so much noise that I couldn’t hear that place deep within myself that was pointing me towards what was truly the next right thing. To me, giving up fighting for others to protect me so I could protect my family was akin to failing my family. Failing my son. Even though I was exhausted, I faced each day ready to continue my fight. My motto became “I trust God but I don’t trust people”. I spent my time and energy finding people who understood and supported me and growing more and more resentful of those who didn’t. 

Until I stopped. 

Last Saturday morning, I told my husband that I needed ten minutes of quiet before he left for a few hours. I went outside and sat on the steps and asked God to help me to know what to do. What the next right thing was. Because what I thought was the right thing for me to do wasn’t working. 

I wish I could say that the clouds parted and I heard a voice from above telling me exactly what I needed to do. How cool would that have been? In reality, after my ten minutes were up, I muddled my way through the rest of the morning most of the afternoon. 

It wasn’t until later that afternoon when I was taking some more time to sit in the quiet after talking to Tyson that I was able to start getting an idea of what the next right thing was for me to do. Somewhere in that quiet, I was finally able to hear the answer. Somewhere in the quiet, my heart and mind were open to the possibility that the next right thing for me was not at all what I had in mind. 

At this point I wish I could say that all felt right with the world and it was smooth sailing from there. Unfortunately, knowing and doing the next right thing isn’t always easy. Even though I did feel a calming sense of peace knowing that I was going to be heading in the right direction, there was still a certain level of anxiety that things were not going to work out the way I wanted and the consequences of that. Especially knowing that other people other than myself and my family would be impacted. 

Now that decisions have been made and action has been taken, there is a part of my heart that is hurting and disappointed while a part of it is relieved and contented. But in the end, doing the next right thing has put me where I’m supposed to be. It is not what I had envisioned or hoped for, and what lies ahead is still unknown. However, I can already see signs of how God has prepared me and my family for this exact season of life I now find myself in. And it’s all because I had the courage to be quiet, listen to Him, and do the next right thing.

My hope for you is that when you’re faced with a choice, you will choose the next right thing for you. Sometimes it’s easy to know what that is, and sometimes is incredibly difficult. In those times, I hope you will be able to find some time and space to be quiet (even if it’s just ten minutes) so you can listen deep down for the answer that will guide you in the right direction.

Source: Kelly, M. (2017). Perfectly yourself: Discovering God’s dream for you. North Palm Beach, FL: Beacon Publishing.

Communication: More Than Just Talking

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“Mom, when is Moses going to start talking?”

That’s the question Josie asks me every so often.

My usual answer is, “When he’s ready.”

That answer does little to satisfy her. And I get it. She knows he’s 3-years-old. She knows that Moses’ best friend next door is three and has been talking up a storm for a while now. She sees videos of herself talking when she was younger than three. She also sees that physically, Moses is doing what most other three-year-olds are doing as far was walking, playing, eating, etc. So I get it that it’s hard for her to understand why Moses can do some of things that other kids his age are able to do but not others. Like talk.

To be fair to him, he does talk. I compare it to the babbling that babies do as a precursor to talking. And to be honest, it’s pretty freaking cute. Sometimes it’s just one or two sounds in response to something. Other times it’s a long-winded lecture about something that is not to his liking. My favorite is when he gets really excited and does this high-pitched cheer with a huge smile on his face.

He does know some actual words: Ma, Da, ball, Alexa, yes (with an emphasis on the ‘s’), and no.

But there are many more that he knows but isn’t able to pronounce accurately. For example, “de” is “thank you” and “come” is “welcome”. For the most part, when he says certain things I know what he’s saying. I know that when he says “ble” he wants a cutie, “Bo” is “Elmo”, “Ca” is “Cookie”, and “Gar” is “Oscar”. He also knows the signs for “more”, “please”, “thank you”, “milk”, and a few more.

His go-to form of communication is to either say “c’mere” or grab my hand and walk me to what he wants. If it’s something in a cabinet or the refrigerator, he’ll point to and guide me with “yes” and “no”.

Besides, he communicates in so many other ways.

Is it always easy? No. There are times when, despite both of our best efforts, I cannot figure out what he wants or is trying to tell me. There are times that I know he knows exactly what I’m telling him to do or not to do, like pick up the apple he threw down, and he openly defies me. There are times that I need him to understand what I’m telling him to do or not do, like go outside by himself, and I know he just doesn’t understand yet. There are tears and shouts of frustration for both of us at times.

But overall, I don’t consider his delay in speech to be a major issue.

Besides, he communicates in so many other ways that are even better than words.

Like the way his face lights up when he sees me walk in the door. The way he gets up, does his little preparatory dance, yells “Ma!”, and then runs to hug me. The way he giggles when I chase him around the kitchen. The way he watches and mimics Josie, especially when she’s dancing. The way his lower lip sticks out and he tucks his chin down when he gets hurt or sad. The way he pats my back as I hold him and hug him tight. The way he cuts his eyes to the side before he makes a break for it when I’m trying to get him dressed.

One of the most common questions I see posted from mothers who have just found out their baby will have or does have Down syndrome is, “What can I expect?” And I know from experience that what they’re really asking is, “What hardships or challenges can I expect?” It’s no secret that a person with Down syndrome will have physical and cognitive delays to some degree. However, what I feel like it is virtually impossible to help those new or expecting parents to realize is that those delays will actually serve to highlight strengths not only within their child but within themselves.

Josie started talking when she was a year old and hasn’t looked back. Knowing what she was thinking, needed, or wanted has never been hard to figure out. To be honest, I feel like we were quite spoiled in regards to the ease in which we were able to communicate with her early on.

However, with Moses, I feel like we have actually been given the gift of realizing that communication goes much deeper than words. With him, his communication might be more underdeveloped for his chronological age, but in that I find that it still has more of the simplicity, authenticity, and genuineness of that of a younger child. With him I don’t have to wonder if he truly means what he’s communicating because he is still so genuine in what he feels, needs, and wants. Sure, I may have to pay more attention to his nonverbal cues, but is that really such a bad thing? Especially if it means that I am more in tune with my child and it also helps me to be more in tune with others that I communicate with?

The next time you’re talking with someone, take the time to pay attention to how her eyes light up when she’s talking about something she’s passionate about. Or how his body language changes as he searches for the right words to explain what he’s thinking and feeling. Think about whether or not her facial expression and tone match up with the words she’s saying. Pay attention to these things within yourself, too. Are you fully communicating your honest thoughts and feelings?

Moses has taught me that when it comes down to it, while spoken words are important and meaningful, the true beauty of communication goes far beyond words. The beauty is found in the genuine and raw thought and emotion that children are so artful at showing. Adults are capable of showing the same thing but learn to mask it for a variety of reasons. Moses communicates in his way without malice, without ridicule, without hidden meaning or agenda. I never knew that my child with a speech delay would be teaching me lessons on communicating. But then again, I shouldn’t be that surprised. He is pretty extraordinary.

Trust God…But Don’t Stand Up in a Small Boat

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Here in our little corner of Southeast Missouri, things are going to start returning to a new version of “normal” tomorrow.

The way I understand it, the guidelines set forth by the Stay at Home Order will be lifted to a certain extent. Businesses are expected to follow certain guidelines to ensure the healthy and safety of their customers and employees. However, there is no restriction on the size of social gatherings although the 6-foot social distancing practice is still being encouraged.

For small business owners, I’m happy for them. Especially the ones that have been completely closed for the past four weeks.

For those who have felt any personal strain of the Stay at Home Order, I’m hopeful they will find some relief, too.

As for me, my anxiety is back and I am dreading May 4th.

Believe me when I say I am ready to be able to see and hug my parents. To have a glass of wine (or three) with my friends in person. To go to the grocery store without wearing a mask or fearing I’m going to infect my family despite my best efforts to sanitize everything before it goes into the house.

Today I have cried as I’ve grieved not getting to hug my parents when they came to visit us through the window and bring the kids cookies.

I’ve cried because I’m scared this virus is going to come back if businesses don’t adhere to the guidelines for keeping their customers and employees safe. If people don’t continue to practice social distancing as they are being encouraged to do.

I’ve cried because I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss my students. I miss my work family.

But I also know that for my family, we have to continue staying home. We have to continue doing everything we can to stay healthy.

As I wrote before, Moses is considered high-risk not so much because he has Down syndrome but because of his history of respiratory complications. If RSV, a common cold for most people, could put him in the hospital requiring oxygen less than 5 months ago, I don’t want to know what COVID-19 could do to him. But I do know that I never want to have to relive watching him be kept alive by a ventilator, which is what I had to do for 6 excruciating days when he was just 3 months old. And which is what could very well be what would have to happen again if he had complications from COVID-19. Trust me when I say that if you’ve never sat by the hospital bed where someone you loved more than life itself was laying, watched the monitor, and prayed that their oxygen level stayed above 90 so that the alarm wouldn’t go off again, it’s not something you ever want to do.

It’s not just Moses that I want to keep safe, though. Over the last month, I’ve read stories about seemingly healthy children and adults in their 20s, 30s, and 40s who have fallen victim to this relentless and unforgiving virus. So while Josie, Tyson, and I are not considered to be in the “at-risk” population, it doesn’t magically grant us immunity from the virus and it’s possible ramifications.

There’s a sign in my in-law’s cabin at the lake that says “Trust God but don’t stand up in a small boat.” I fully trust that God is watching over my family and hears my prayers to continue letting us stay healthy. But when tomorrow comes and others open their doors and go back to “normal”, we’re going to go ahead and sit tight at home a little while longer.

Finding Forgiveness

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On March 17, what was supposed to be the first day of my leave of absence, I drove up to Ste. Genevieve to meet my sister to get a playhouse for the kids from her and to just spend some time with her. Usually when I’m driving by myself, I have the radio on, the volume turned up, and I sing as loudly and out-of-tune as I please. However, on this drive, I ended up listening to a Catholic radio station. I can’t remember what was on when I first started listening, but what came on next ended up being the starting point on my path of healing and recovery from the icy waters I kept finding myself falling into.

I can’t tell you if the person on the radio was a priest or a guest speaker or what, but whoever it was, he started talking about forgiveness. He spoke about what forgiveness is and what it’s not. About how important forgiveness is to our own mental, emotional, spiritual, and physical well-being. Honestly, most of what he said were things I had heard before. (Although, I did learn that there’s an International Forgiveness Institute and thought that it was pretty interesting.)

As I listened to the speaker go on about forgiveness, the names of different people who had hurt me somehow started popping into my head. As I would think of what I had gone through with each one, I found myself getting angry and feeling hurt all over again. This surprised me a bit because I thought I had forgiven those people and moved on. Clearly, that was not the case.

Coincidentally, just a few days earlier, Tyson had shown me a website he had found with prayers for healing that he thought may help me. I scrolled through the page and saw some prayers that seemed fitting to what I was experiencing, some that didn’t, and an emotional healing exercise at the end of the page. The exercise was all about forgiveness, letting go of people and/or experiences that had hurt you, and finding peace. Some of those same people had come to mind then, too.

Back to the person on the radio, as I listened to him talk about how giving and receiving forgiveness looks different for different people and different situations, I realized that for some people, I hadn’t fully forgiven them. I had said the words in my mind, but they hadn’t reached my heart. Thinking back to the emotional healing exercise, I knew that was something I needed to do for myself.

I wish I could say that when I got home that afternoon, I immediately got to work and felt better by that evening. In reality, it took me about a week to feel ready to do the exercise because the first thing you had to do was go back. Go back and feel the hurt, sadness, heartache, disappointment, anger, shame, and guilt that I thought I had let go of but had apparently just pushed down.

Here’s a basic rundown of how the exercise works:

  • You begin by writing a letter to the person telling him/her how angry you are at them for hurting you. You write all the ugly parts of what you experienced with that person and describe how you felt and tell him/her that you are angry at them for that. You tell them how it affected you then and now. You tell them what you wish had been different.
  • Next, you write a letter to yourself from that person apologizing for the way he/she treated you and acknowledging that you did not deserve to be treated like that. You write the words you need to hear from that person.
  • After that letter, you write a prayer. In your prayer, you release the person into the Lord’s hands. You pray for Jesus to wash away the negativity left by the relationship with that person.
  • Finally, you write a letter to yourself from God. You let him tell you what you need to hear from him.

After I finished going through the exercise the first time, I could not believe how amazing I felt. It’s hard to describe the lightness I felt in my mind and in my heart. Yes, it was hard to revisit the pain of the past, but it was also necessary to find this peace in the present. Each time I completed the exercise for a different person and experience, I felt so much relief in the end.

While none of the letters were easy to write, the one that was the hardest was to myself. Writing about the ways in which I had contributed to the hurt and pain I had gone through that was weighing me down so heavily was extremely difficult and even mortifying at times. But to be able to finally forgive myself for all that – especially the guilt and shame I felt for allowing others to hurt me and for hurting others – I had to do it. And I’m so glad I did.

Once again, God knew what I needed. Forgiveness, for myself or anyone else, was not a part of my plan to heal and restore my mental and emotional well-being. Thankfully, God knew that finding forgiveness was exactly where I needed to start.