a warning

I found this on the Large Family Mothering Blog.  Jon Voight warns us about Barack Obama's agenda.

This is not a fringe groups' beliefs.  This is really happening!

the least of my brethren

I found an amazing blog tonight after a very troubling, draining day with my son (thanks for the link, Sandi).

When someone of faith suffers deeply, and for a long season, I find it miraculous that afterwards their words and teaching have an impact similar to that of Jesus.  Suddenly, they are gifted with authority, truth, vision.  When Jesus spoke to a crowd, the crowd instinctively knew that such teachings were not of man.  Man is too shortsighted, without hands-on suffering, to produce anything in the jaw-dropping category.

Raising a disabled child, or being the sibling of one, produces depth.  The bottomless-pit kind of depth.  Reading this post, in particular, will illustrate that for you.  Makes me certain that God allows disabilities to add depth to our me-focused world--to the lives of those who suffer directly, and less so, to those who experience the suffering second-hand, through writings or other expressive art.

Not a single one of us would choose such a hard life!  We don't have the capacity to choose suffering.  It's hard enough to avoid eating a third cookie...or an eighth.  That sums up our strength sometimes, eh?

I cannot compare any disability in my home to that experienced by the blog author, Greg, above.  My son has a multi-faceted relationship with all of us.  That capability is a gift not enjoyed by many of the disabled, making their disability excruciating for their parents and siblings.

I deal with the following behaviors on a regular basis:

- extreme difficulty waiting
- easily angered
- difficulty calming oneself
- low frustration threshold
- invades space
- talks excessively without attention to social cues
- extreme self focus
- insatiable desire for attention
- driven as if by motor

All of these behaviors make a person far less likable.  When an obviously disabled person behaves erratically, we instinctively know why.  But what about when a seemingly normal person does the same?  We get angry.  Disgusted.  We want to teach that person a thing or two, by golly.  Who do they think they are, anyway?

There are times, like today, when I look at my son and think, how could he be so hateful--so hellbent on making everyone miserable?  Doesn't he see what he's doing to us?  Does he have no remorse?

The truth is, I don't know the answers to the above questions.  I can't get inside his brain and understand.  And he doesn't know either.  His "differences" baffle him--often making him feel like a bad seed.

I know that many prisoners have ADHD.  Usually if they end up in prison they also have oppositional defiant disorder--or even worse, conduct disorder--as a comorbid condition.  In 65% of cases ADHD doesn't travel alone.  In my son's case, it exists with general anxiety (elevators, explosions, being left alone, fires, strange smells, toxic chemicals, possibly-contaminated food, car accident, perceived harm/danger when none exists).

My pediatrician tells me that as my son gets older, aggressive behaviors will increase.  That terrifies me.  We already notice an increase in name-calling and other beginning-bully tendencies, directed toward his brother.  Thankfully, they are good friends at this point.  If these behaviors increase, though, Paul--who is rather passive--will begin to prefer his sisters as companions, which will only make Peter jealous and more dangerous.

Strength.  I need it.  The landscape will change, unless God intervenes.

Somehow, I need to grow from looking at my son and wondering, how could you, to looking at Jesus and saying, how could you?  

I know the answer to that.  We live in a fallen world.  Pain and suffering and death exist.   Some people are chosen to carry more pain, to bring glory to God.  Sounds cut and dry, doesn't it?

The point of my looking at Jesus with this question, instead of at my son, is to remind me that this isn't my son's fault.  He didn't choose it.

I have to let go of my angry responses, stay calm inside, and focus on teaching my son coping strategies, lest he be viewed as an angry, self-absorbed jerk.  He is so much more than that!  I clearly see that "so much more".  But the world won't be looking so hard.

I'm 80% certain my husband has this (different form, more forgetful), so two people here need my strength and understanding.  Medication is of little use in altering daily reality.

But there is something that alters daily reality.

on-my-knees humility, coupled with grace

I must clothe myself in these, so God doesn't look at me, and say, how could you?  


Matthew 25:40
... Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.

inspiration for homeschool moms

Here is a shorty post by Sarah, daughter of Sally Clarkson.  Sally homeschooled all four of her children, emphasizing good literature and lots of writing.  Her daughter's prose, at age 25, makes wanna-be writers like me swoon.  If you're a homeschool mom, you'll be encouraged by the caliber of Sarah's education.

Wisdom From Oswald Chamber

The following italicized text is from the Oswald Chambers devotional, My Utmost For His Highest.  It is the July 4th entry.

Entry based on Psalm 37.8--"Do not fret--it only causes harm."

Fretting means getting ourselves "out of joint" mentally or spiritually.  It is one thing to say, "Do not fret", but something very different to have such a nature that you find yourself unable to fret.  It's easy to say, "Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for him" (37.7) until our own little world is turned upside down and we are forced to live in confusion and agony like so many other people.  Is it possible to "rest in the Lord" then?  If this "Do not" doesn't work there, then it will not work anywhere.  This "Do not" must work during our days of difficulty and uncertainty, as well as our peaceful days, or it will never work.  And if it will not work in your particular case, it will not work for anyone else.  Resting in the Lord is not dependent on your external circumstances at all, but on your relationship with God Himself.

Worrying always results in sin.  We tend to think that a little anxiety and worry are simply an indication of how wise we really are, yet it is actually a much better indication of just how wicked we are.  Fretting rises from our determination to have our own way.  Our Lord never worried and was never anxious, because His purpose was never to accomplish His own plans but to fulfill God's plans.  Fretting is wickedness for a child of God.

Have you been propping up that foolish soul of yours with the idea that your circumstances are too much for God to handle?  Set all your opinions and speculations aside and "abide under the shadow of the Almighty" (Psalm 91:1).  Deliberately tell God that you will not fret about whatever concerns you.  All our fretting and worrying is caused by planning without God.  

I first read this back in 1997--the year I became a Christian.  It transformed my heart and life.  Previously, I was a worrier.  Actually, worrying represented my biggest flaw!  And do you know, I don't even resemble that person anymore?  Praise God!  The Lord truly changes us!  Because we are focused on our many imperfections, we fail to see how many of them God has obliterated.  

No, we'll never be perfect.  That isn't what he's after.  But Praise God for the growth!

I reread this entry as a reminder when I start to feel emotionally exhausted.  Emotional exhaustion can come from the same root cause as worry--wanting our own way!  When we rest in Him--in what he has planned for us--we have peace. Never weariness.  

I hope this entry blesses you as it has me!  

some adventures

Last Thursday, this little guy abruptly switched from a three-week stint with hayfever, to the first day of a bad cold, complete with wheezing and a temperature of 103.6 F.  His doctor, talking to me after hours, asked that I take Paul to urgent care.

On the way to urgent care, Paul vomited in the car, thankfully grabbing the bowl I brought along (just in time).  No-mess vomiting!  My favorite kind!

Urgent care said he was too sick for them to deal with, given that his fever was high even while taking fever reducing meds (Tylenol alternating with ibuprofen).

What?  Too sick?  What does that mean?  Isn't this urgent care, I thought to myself.  The worst-case scenario would be pneumonia, I surmised.

Now, Paul did look horrible and definitely seemed listless. Still, I knew things weren't as serious as they seemed to think.  Just the day before, my guy played football with brother!

But whatever.  I took him to a pediatric emergency room, at their suggestion.  On the way I kept looking at Paul in the rear view mirror, wondering if I had it all wrong.  Did he have meningitis, for Pete's sake?  My instinct told me no.  Weak from fever and vomiting?  Yes.  But nothing unusual, I convinced myself.   Probably a bad cold with wheezing, or the beginning of pneumonia.  He hadn't wheezed since his RSV infection at 4 months of age, so I was surprised at his condition.  The rapid onset was puzzling, to say the least.  No one here has ever had pneumonia.

The ER doctor asked me why the urgent care center hadn't treated Paul.

"Too high a fever while taking medication, is what they suggested."

"Isn't that what they do there?", he asked, chuckling sarcastically.  

"You would think", I answered, smiling.

He was very nice to us, even though he laughed at me when I said Paul nursed for 2.5 years, making him my healthiest child, notwithstanding his hayfever.

"Well, that isn't going to help him when he's six!  That wears off you know!", he said, laughing.

Feeling stupid, I laughed.  No, he wasn't being a jerk.  Just amused by my zeal, I guess.

But people, I really think nursing has lasting benefits.  No, the immediate antibodies don't last, but there are general health benefits, like disease prevention, which do last.

Long story short, Momma's instincts proved themselves correct.  Chest x-ray and blood work turned up normal.  No pneumonia or other bacterial infection, and Paul wasn't dehydrated.  They did gave him an anti-nausea drug and IV fluids, to see if he would perk up some.  They weren't comfortable sending him home while he still appeared listless.

My sweetheart was mad, but quietly so.  He wanted a drink so badly, as soon as the fever broke.  They wouldn't let him drink since he had vomited a couple hours before.

All through the IV ordeal, and each time they examined him, he was extremely quiet.  Such a contrast to his brother, who I'm sure would have screamed and cried about the new procedures--wondering if he was dying.

The hours I spent with Paul, alone, taught me more about his personality.  He holds things in.  As his mother, I have to draw him out and try not to let important issues go unspoken.  Those hours were a rare gift, given the size of my family.  Each child receives little one-on-one time.

Leaving my baby was so hard.  This was our longest separation, and my heart and body noticed the two missed nursing sessions.  Thankfully, she fell asleep in our swivel computer chair, while husband held and swayed her.

Finally, five hours after our ordeal began, Paul looked better and they sent him home with albuterol (for the wheezing).  I gave it to him twice only.

Eighteen hours later, my son seemed the picture of health.  I snapped the above football picture this afternoon.

Strange adventure.

We're all still coughing and some of us are weak, but no other wheezing incidents.  I wonder if Paul's condition deteriorated quickly due to the hayfever weakening his immune system before the cold hit?

This little lady runs me ragged.  Oh, the blessing she is!  But boy, she's a handful.  Now, at 16 months old, she climbs out of her booster seat, her playpen, the safety gate, and her crib.  She doesn't actually sleep in her crib, preferring the queen bed in her room instead, with Momma next to her.  We taught her early how to safely get out of the bed.  She looks so cute, coming down the hall after her naps, all by herself!

Anyhow, about the crib--I put her in it when I read to her at night.  I can get through more books that way, since she's so squirrelly.

My only concern about her Houdini ways is this:  How will I safely go to the bathroom and get a shower when husband is gone?  Yikes!  His Census training begins this week, and we'll barely see him as it mixes with his part-time jobs and schooling.

This little Sweetie uttered the dearest prayer at lunchtime.

"Dear Jesus,  I love you today.  I love going outside with Peter and Paul and Mommy and Beth.  I love the leaves.  I love quesadillas.  Amen."

My big guy spends his outside time looking for frogs and insects.  Here he is behind our air conditioning unit, which often hides a frog or two.  And sometimes a harmless snake!

We can't believe the size of this boy!  We're 5'3" and 5'8", and our pediatrician tells us this boy is working toward a height of 6'2"!

We finished our spring cookies today!  You can't tell, but pictured here are two tulips and an egg.