Not A Mess

Felt overwhelmed this morning by a messy house. Striving to see blessing instead of messing. If I had no children my house would be very clean, but how much I would be missing!
"Where there are no oxen, the manger is empty, but from the strength of an ox come abundant harvests." Proverbs 14:4

Not marker all over the table (you can't quite see it in the picture).
Budding artists. Refining fine motor skills.


Not sticky fingerprints.
Curious, capable fingers exploring for more art supplies.


Not furniture scraped across the floor to all the wrong places.
An airship flying to Africa.


Not books piled in commandeered laundry basket.
Trip to the library. Love of reading.


Not interference with order and decor.
A boy so proud of his artwork he has to "decorate" his whole room with it.


Not those d*&n cardboard blocks spread all over the room.
Baby dragon, just hatched from his egg.

The Most Perfect Spot

(Photo taken by Harper)

I have to take time to write down this week. Z's teacher said that Wednesday at school was "the perfect day!" And those words have helped me see how so many things this week have been perfect.

On Monday at school, Z got amped up during the playground time and pushed a friend. Mrs D told him he couldn't do that or he wouldn't be able to play on the playground. Z apologized to his friend and then, on his own, ran to the tree and pushed it hard. Then he ran to the fence and pushed it. Back and forth, eight times, pushing that energy into "friends" that are okay to push. Then he was able to join back into the playing with more calm. Wow! I was so proud of him for finding a way to get the pressure and force he needed in a way that was acceptable and didn't hurt others. I was so happy to praise him for his great idea.

On Tuesday we went to Occupational Therapy as usual, but this week we didn't take Harper with us. The therapist thought we should try that again because Z has been very distractible these last few weeks and unable to focus on the "missions" she had for him. The difference was pretty significant. Z was calmer throughout the entire time and during the going in and leaving. I asked him as we were leaving if he had a good time even though Harper wasn't there. He said yes. I said it seemed like it was more calm and peaceful. Did he feel that too? And he said yes. Again, I'm so proud of him for sensing how he feels and things that make him overwhelmed versus more calm experiences.

On Wednesday Z had his "perfect day." He was happy and involved the entire day. They went to the music room (which they haven't done all summer and is usually a place of discomfort for him) and he participated in all of the movement games! This has never happened before. He usually gets agitated by the noise and movement and either lies down as far away from the other kids as he can or he'll sit in the hallway just outside the door (Mrs D's suggestion). Mrs. D said that he got a little wiggly at one point during a game but that she told him that the game required standing still at that moment. She gave him the option to go to the hallway if he felt overwhelmed but he chose to stay! And he was able to stay still and remain calm.

Then, during playground time he played with the other kids in sync with their games, playing WITH them, for the entire 20 minutes! This also hasn't happened before. Z will often need time to himself outdoors and he'll go find a quieter place to play by himself for a bit before rejoining other kids. And, finally, during playtime with water, a bin of water tipped over and drenched Z. He got a little upset and said to take his shirt off quick, quick! Mrs. D thought it was going to be a moment for him to lose it, but instead, once the shirt was off, he was fine! No one likes getting their shirt drenched, especially a child with tactile sensitivity! But he handled it! I'm so proud of him!

Praise God! I am so thankful for these signs of Z improving and maturing. And the best part is that he just seems happy! He seems more comfortable and not as anxious. When other kids are around he seems curious and friendly rather than on guard and withdrawn. Even today at a park with a bunch of kids, Auntie M commented on how happy he seemed. And he played pretty much the whole time WITH other kids instead of by himself.

So I'm writing down these reasons to be thankful. And I hope I've learned how children don't develop in a straight line and we could cycle around to another bad day/week, but I feel like I know what is possible for us. And I feel so much more hopeful that we are doing the right things to help Z.

I'm in the most perfect spot.*

*Also a very cute book by Diane Goode.

Grace Floats

On Sundays, I dread it when it's my turn to take Z to sunday school (which starts right before the sermon). The class starts with singing, so Z usually heads straight under a table. I have a really hard time being patient when I just want to go listen to the sermon. Every time I see him resisting joining the group, hiding under tables, or worse, trying to run out of the building, I honestly just wish he was like the other kids. Why can't he just sit on the rug like everyone else?

This Sunday, he was doing pretty well. I got him to sit next to me on the rug and as I participated in the songs, so did he. But just a few feet away from us there were these perfect little easter-egg colored balloons tied to a chair. As we came in we speculated together on what they were for and how special it was that just his class had them. It was a helpful incentive for him to want to go to class. But then, the balloons were just too tempting and he went over to see them. I followed quickly after him and told him right away that he couldn't touch them. They were only tied once around the arm of the chair. One light tug and the balloon would fly up to the high ceiling- out of reach. But Z HAD to touch them. He pulled at one and I managed to catch it just in time. My heart jumped in my throat at the near miss, imagining the class being one short of "enough" balloons. I'm sure the look on my face wasn't very patient as I emphasized again the importance of leaving them alone and if all the balloons got loose that no one would have the treat of having one and then someone will be sad... and then...

Z ran his fingers across those loosely-tied ribbons...
and I grasped and lunged and saved quite a few but six or seven balloons floated away. My face turned red, my blood surged. If I wasn't at church I'm not sure what might have come out of my mouth. I pseudo-calmly walked the remaining balloons over to one of the teachers and then grabbed Z's hand and walked him down the hall away from his class. I started to berate him about how he didn't listen and that was EXACTLY what I told him would happen and now not all of the kids would get balloons... and...

Then I saw his face.
He was very upset and about to cry. He started to get angry and said that he didn't want to be Z anymore. "I'm going to change my name." "I don't like being me." He even hit his chest with his fist. Oh, man. Did that change my tune. I asked him if he was upset because he didn't control himself. He said yes.
Deep breath. Praise God I had enough self control of my own to calm down and talk to him about asking for forgiveness when we sin. I told him I was glad he was sad about disobeying me and doing something that could take something special away from his friends. But that our sin was the reason Jesus came. And we all make mistakes and we all sin. But Jesus forgives us. And I forgive you. I made him look right in my eyes and I said that two or three times: I forgive you.

Eventually we went back to the group and he joined in. Shortly after, as I was walking back to the auditorium, I kept thinking about how hard I was on him about the balloons. That rage that welled up inside me. I realized how much of it was connected to embarrassment. All those balloons bobbing away and me and Z right there, the cause of it all because my son doesn't listen to me. And disappointment. Why is it always my kid who does stuff like that? Why can't he sit on the rug like everyone else? I let my concern for what others think about me be more important than my son.

I stewed on that for a while and replayed over and over in my head how it all happened and maybe I should have done this instead. Or who in their right mind ties balloons just once on the arm of a chair with a bunch of KIDS around? (Blame is always an easy defense mechanism.) And how mean was my face when I was talking to him? And how hard did I grab his little hand?

And then I remembered that I had just told Z he was forgiven. I told him that when something is forgiven that we forget about it and, when possible, see if we can make amends (maybe Papa will be able to reach the balloons if he stands on the table). And I told him that I didn't want him to be upset about it anymore or say mean things about himself. And there I was upset and dwelling on my own sin. And calling myself names. And not forgetting it. How can I show my son forgiveness when I don't accept God's forgiveness of me?

It was one of those times when I literally prayed, "Okay, God. I get it." Just like Z when he says: "I already know that, Ma!" I wonder if God chuckles at me like I do at Z: "Well, then, why do I have to remind you so often?"

Naming to Save Me

1. the smell of the morning when you can tell it's going to be a hot day

9. my soft, gushy pillow

20. warm sun on back, cool breeze

36. the caramel-colored foam on a latte

55. the putter of a small plane overhead

It's been a couple of months now that I have been writing down things I love. Things for which I'm thankful. Things for which I thank God. It started with a book a friend gave me called One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. Her idea is that thanksgiving is a precursor to miracles. It's the faith that brings salvation. It's the grace that gives us a full, rich life in Christ. What started as a dare to write down one thousand gifts from God became a way of changing her perspective toward God's goodness instead of at the loss and lack in our world and in our own lives.

A concept I really like in the book is about naming things. Naming was Adam's first job in Creation. To quote from her book (which is a quote from Alexander Schmemann):
“Naming reveals the very essence of a thing, manifests the meaning and value God gave it, to know it as coming from God and to know its place and function within the cosmos created by God. To name a thing, in other words, is to bless God for it and in it.”
I love this idea of the power of naming as a spiritual exercise which gives meaning to, and thanksgiving for, the things in my life. Those things are always there, but naming them and thanking God for them gives them power. It gives me power as I connect myself consciously to God and His love.

I've tried this kind of thing before- writing down things I'm thankful for- and sometimes it has been helpful and other times it failed horribly. One point Ann Voskamp makes is that the things need to be very specific and small. This seems counter-intuitive. We Christians so often thank God for things like family, salvation, creation, etc. As Ann says: "I discover that slapping a sloppy brush of thanksgiving over everything in my life leaves me deeply thankful for very few things in my life." As I started my list, I tried to focus on the things that make me happy. Those things that make me smile or sigh. And I didn't pressure myself to a schedule of a certain number a day or even a frequency. By keeping it natural and guilt-free, I'm hoping it is something I can sustain for a long time.

Is it working? Am I a changed woman who sees good in every situation? No. Not yet. But as Erasmus said, "A nail is driven out by another nail. Habit is overcome by habit." And, again quoting Ms. Voskamp: "To learn how to be grateful and happy, whether hands full or hands empty. That is a secret worth spending a life on learning.”