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www.blestwithsons.com

Thanks!

The jury's still out on that one...

When we were first learning about Asperger's Syndrome, I had a nice little chat with my piano/voice teacher about it. As we were talking I smilingly said, "Perhaps I just have trouble with things that start with A. A.D.D., Autism, Asperger's..."

She interrupted with, "Adulthood."

Without missing a beat, I replied, "Nope. I haven't been diagnosed with that yet."

Line by Line

One of my sons (and possible two of them) has Asperger's Syndrome. Asperger's is/is like a mild form of autism. He's very intelligent, and, in my words, freaky gifted in music, but he displays some autistic behavior. For example, his communication skills are somewhat impaired. He can tell you what he wants and needs, but he can't answer more abstract questions like "What is your favorite color?" or "Where would you like to go?" or "What did you do in church today?". When he's in doubt, he starts listing movie titles. (as in the previous posting where half of his prayer consists of VeggieTales episodes) Also, he has some very strong obsessions, mainly music with a special interest in percussion and VeggieTales.

Another of his autistic behaviors is shown in his penchant for lining things up. He creates elaborate displays - and woe betide anyone who disturbs them! Little toys, video boxes, all his drums and drumsticks - line upon line. Alphabet blocks are one of the best, and worst, purchases I have ever made. Andrew shocked us all by starting to read, write, and spell out loud, during the Christmas holidays. Now reading at four is not remarkable in my family, but we had never tried to teach him to read because we didn't think he would get it yet. We thought the communication barrier was too great. Shows what we knew! He is now reading around a first grade level and loves to write (VeggieTales titles mostly - go figure). And yes, he really is reading and not just reciting from memory. He sounds all the words out phonetically. After he first started spelling out loud, I bought him a large set of alphabet blocks. His older brother had practiced spelling and reading with Scrabble tiles, I thought those were too small for Andrew and I didn't trust him not to lose them. I had no idea what I was starting. When he's not drumming, he's lining up letters. One day it was the alphabet backwards, another day it was every letter in pairs. One day I looked on the windowsill and saw "Harry Connick Jr Only You" - one of his favorite concerts. Another morning brought "Gaither Vocal Band" and "Australia". It's been fun - but awkward. If the baby takes a block and runs off with it, hysteria ensues. Andrew collapses in the floor weeping - real tears and everything! The daily chore of picking up the blocks is nothing short of war. I wish I understood exactly what goes through his mind when his line in unlined. But I can't have the blocks out all the time - it's hard on the feet!

A Fervent Prayer

Heard at the bedside of four year old Andrew:

"Dear God, Thank you for this day.
Thank you that we got to go outside.
Thank you for Larry Boy and Josh and the Big Wall and Are you My neighbor.
Please help me NOT to obey Mommy and Daddy. In Jesus' Name, Amen."

Ahem. I really don't think Andrew needs divine strengthening on that point...

It's My Time!

Contentment is an elusive virtue. After all, we live in a country where contentment would be very bad for the economy and every commercial crusades against it.

One of the great enemies of contentment is a false array of expectations of what life is supposed to be like and how I am supposed to get to spend "My Time".
I have four little boys, the oldest is seven, and with them the hits just keep on coming. Laundry never stops, my floor looks like a very successful breeding program for endangered breakfast cereals, and someone is always hungry. (especially me!) Proverbs 31 says someday my children will rise up and call me blessed - right now they just rise up and call me. "Mommy, can I...? Mommy will you...? Mommmy - He...! I have my good days and my bad days...but my bad days usually have something in common. When I start having a plan for what I want to do with My Time, I'm destined for trouble. (Life is what happens when you've made other plans!) But I'm supposed to get time for me right? The hour plus that I want to spend practicing the piano, the time on the phone with my friends, the necessary time for blogging (ahem) - these are all important parts of my personhood and I am entitled to time for them, right? You know, I'm not so sure. And even if I didn't have four little men in the making, I still wouldn't be so sure. I am sure that I grow very discontented when I think I'm entitled to all this and more and either a) neglect my responsibilities or b) get really annoyed when I get interrupted while doing what I want or c) both a and b in spades.

C.S. Lewis wrote "The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one's 'own', or 'real' life. The truth is of course that what one calls the interruptions are precisely one's real life - the life God is sending one day by day; what one calls one's 'real life' is a phantom of one's own imagination."

Which leads me to one more thought about contentment. Whoever said we were supposed to be happy all the time anyway? When my husband was deployed the last time, I really struggled. I think the best way to describe me spiritually was in a state of advanced pout. I just did not appreciate that everything in my life was not going in the most peachy-keen way. I did not like having my husband gone off to war, I did not like raising my three boys while growing ever more hugely pregnant with number four by myself, I did not like it when the toilet exploded (well who would?!) - but when I remembered that all these events were controlled by my heavenly Father who has my best interests at heart... At some point I realized that I was a spoiled brat and started apologizing to God. Obviously I had some growing up to do. And I still do.

G. K. Chesterton wrote that "Gratitude is the best test of happiness". Only by being grateful for the real life God has given me, that life more abundant that Christ spoke of, will I find true and lasting contentment.

1 Thessalonians 5:18 In everything give thanks, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus

Glass from the Past

From my 2003 scrapbook...



Childhood Smudges
on the glass
As these fleeting hours pass
Three precious faces
paused to smile at each other
for a while
Two outside for sun and play
One must wait
for bigger days
I grab my camera
impossible dream
to freeze a moment
in life's stream
And with thankful heart
gaze and adore these little boys
who grace my door

Let there be Food

Tuesdays around here are becoming grocery days. It would be Monday, but the commissary is closed on Monday - ttthppp. So the past three Tuesday mornings I have bravely loaded up all four boys and ventured forth into the public arena in search of comestibles. Grocerying with four boys under the age of eight, one of whom is a little on the autistic side (asperger syndrome) is always an Adventure. (hey - wasn't I just saying I wanted an Adventure! I don't think the grocery store was what I meant) I put my two youngest in the double stroller, my oldest pushes the grocery cart, and we all just hope that son #2, the almost five year old wild child, will stay with the pack. Today started off slightly differently as I threw in a side trip before the commissary run. Our family is currently on a gluten free diet (no wheat, barley, or rye) due to the autism and some issues with the other kids. We have to track down special flours, cookies, cereals, and so forth on a regular basis... so off we went to the local health food store.

This store is SMALL, and has made the regrettable decision of selling weight benches in the back of the store. Andrew, my wild child, wasted no time in clambering up and then plummeting off of a weight bench. The elderly proprietor of the store was not impressed by my stoicism as she pointed out that children were not supposed to be on the equipment. I did apologize. But I just wasn't freaking about Andrew's fall...as I told her - the kid is virtually indestructible. I have seen him take so many spills - and bounce right back up again -that I think I'm getting a little too relaxed. Anyway. That out of the way, we managed to find what we came for and safely make it back to the van.

Then it was off to the commissary - which was an unremarkable a trip as any trip to the store with four boys can be. I always get some stares. I am always told at least once "You sure have your hands full!" To which I always grin and reply, "Just a little bit." Andrew always gets some attention because he has to stop and drum on the coffee cans, the vegetable cans, the oatmeal boxes, the frozen chicken... you get the idea. The hardest part is the check-out line...naturally. I am blessed though in that I don't have, as yet, little beggars. They pick up the candy and look at it - but when I say "put it back", they put it back and don't say a word. I don't know how I achieved this state of affairs, but I'm grateful for it!

And that was the major event of our day. Pretty exciting huh? I dated a guy once who admired/complained that I could make a run to the store for milk and come back with thirty minutes worth of stories from the experience. Guess I still got it!

Oh - and I made Gluten Free Cheesecake Brownies from a recipe in The Gluten Free Kitchen cookbook. YUMMY! Two thumbs up!

Danger Zone

My mother has warned me repeatedly that the 30s are a dangerous age. She's right. My mother is, by the way, always right. (a person could get tired of that)

I'm 32, fast approaching 33, and I can honestly state that in some ways it has been a rough and dangerous year, in my mind and emotions if not in my behavior. Underlying all my soul-searching, all my restlessness and anxiety, and a good deal of my inability to focus lies one simple craving. I WANT SOME ADVENTURE! You would think that raising four boys, two of whom have special needs, all of whom are very busy, would be adventure enough. You would think being married to a gone all the time marine would be sufficient drama. You would think that throwing in such interests as scrapbooking, reading, singing, jewelry making, photography, and blogging would more than fill my plate. And if that weren't enough, you would think that adding in the new hobby of playing the piano would push me right into satiation. (any day you can use a word like "satiation" is a GOOD day!) Well you would be wrong. I still want an adventure...

I think that's why I got hung up on the idea of entering a singing competition. Which thanks to some good counsel, I'm now not going to do.

I wonder, was it this same restlessness that got Eve reachin' for that apple. (okay it wasn't an apple - but that sounded better than "fruit")

Why am I so restless? I don't know. I have a great life. I truly love being the mom of four boys. I don't want out of my job. I have a wonderful husband who's only major flaw is that he's not around as much as I would want due to his job. I've got fun friends, a loving family, enough money...I've got rhythm, I've got music... Where does the restlessness come from? And how long do I have to ignore it before it goes away?

I know one thing. Bailing on my responsibilities is not the answer. Yes it would bring me adventure -but at what cost? I was observing something similar this year when talking about romance - which is closely akin to adventure. If you watch romantic movies you start noticing a pattern... There is a lot of pain/suffering that goes along with the yummy moments. Indeed, a boy meets girl, boy gets girl movie would be boring. It's that boy loses girl part in the middle that makes it all gooey and tear-inspiring. Do I really want the suffering just to have a few extra thrills?

Color me boring -but no, I don't. My life, with its exploding toilets (remind me to blog THAT story) and diapers, runny noses and smushed bananas, little giggles and "luv you too"s will not inspire an HBO series (Smurfs in the City?)... but I can live with that.