Trust

Today I went to G's school a little early so I could take him to the book fair at his school. I can't describe the overwhelming joy I feel when I lock eyes with that precious little boy. The secretary had announced my arrival over the intercom and G's teacher had him waiting in the hallway when I turned onto his hall. He hasn't been that excited about seeing me for quite some time and to tell you the truth it was really starting to bother me. He has always been so overjoyed to see me when we are reunited after even the briefest absence. He was on his way to the restroom and when I arrived. His teachers and parapros were all busy so I had the privilege of taking him to the bathroom. He was so excited that he almost wheeled himself into the bathroom wall.

We used a side door that goes through a courtyard leading to the media center. G is not used to going this way because the sidewalk there has a slight slope. I am ever trying to broaden his experiences and prepare him for the world so I thought that way is the best way to head to the library. Usually when faced with the obstacle that a slope presents G reacts by letting go of his wheels and raising both arms up as his body reacts to his fear. Now, I don't have to tell you that his reaction is totally the opposite reaction he needs to have in this kind of situation. I was pleasantly surprised today when I let him independently roll out onto the slope. He didn't let go! In fact he held a death grip on the wheels. Well, it is progress. At least he knows the danger in being strapped to an out of control wheelchair. Now to help him gain confidence in himself and gradually loosen the grip on his wheels.

I suppose that is why I have such trouble with transitions myself. I don't like the feeling of not being completely in control. I feel strapped to this thing called life with very little control of my direction. The difference between my situation and G's is that G is the only one in that wheelchair. He alone controls the speed and direction that it goes. It is all up to him. I however am a child of God. He has me in his hand as He guides me through life. Just as G has to learn to trust me when I stand in front of his chair and tell him I will not let him fall as he begins down an unfamiliar path I have to loosen my grip and trust that God is not going to let me fall.

Sometimes parents let their children fall so that they realize falling is not as scary as it seems. God doesn't give us everything we want, exactly the way we want, or exactly when we want it. He gives us so much more. He gives us what we need when we don't realize that is what we would have wanted all along if we had only been able to see it clearly. I am reminded of that lesson every time I look at my sweet baby G. Would I have chosen for my sweet child to have a disability if given the choice in the beginning? No, I wouldn't. Would I change him now if I could? No, probably not. That may sound cold and strange to some people but G's disability is part of who he is. It is partly responsible for the kind of spirit he has. His disability has brought many special people into our lives. People are naturally drawn to that precious little boy and he has blessed many people with his strength and his joyful spirit.

G's disability has changed our family and helped us to see things in a different way. It has strengthened us and brought us together as a team. We depend on each other in a way that most people will never understand. So just as I have always trusted God when it comes to G, I will continue to trust Him as He leads me into and out of the hallway.

Trust

Today I went to G's school a little early so I could take him to the book fair at his school. I can't describe the overwhelming joy I feel when I lock eyes with that precious little boy. The secretary had announced my arrival over the intercom and G's teacher had him waiting in the hallway when I turned onto his hall. He hasn't been that excited about seeing me for quite some time and to tell you the truth it was really starting to bother me. He has always been so overjoyed to see me when we are reunited after even the briefest absence. He was on his way to the restroom and when I arrived. His teachers and parapros were all busy so I had the privilege of taking him to the bathroom. He was so excited that he almost wheeled himself into the bathroom wall.

We used a side door that goes through a courtyard leading to the media center. G is not used to going this way because the sidewalk there has a slight slope. I am ever trying to broaden his experiences and prepare him for the world so I thought that way is the best way to head to the library. Usually when faced with the obstacle that a slope presents G reacts by letting go of his wheels and raising both arms up as his body reacts to his fear. Now, I don't have to tell you that his reaction is totally the opposite reaction he needs to have in this kind of situation. I was pleasantly surprised today when I let him independently roll out onto the slope. He didn't let go! In fact he held a death grip on the wheels. Well, it is progress. At least he knows the danger in being strapped to an out of control wheelchair. Now to help him gain confidence in himself and gradually loosen the grip on his wheels.

I suppose that is why I have such trouble with transitions myself. I don't like the feeling of not being completely in control. I feel strapped to this thing called life with very little control of my direction. The difference between my situation and G's is that G is the only one in that wheelchair. He alone controls the speed and direction that it goes. It is all up to him. I however am a child of God. He has me in his hand as He guides me through life. Just as G has to learn to trust me when I stand in front of his chair and tell him I will not let him fall as he begins down an unfamiliar path I have to loosen my grip and trust that God is not going to let me fall.

Sometimes parents let their children fall so that they realize falling is not as scary as it seems. God doesn't give us everything we want, exactly the way we want, or exactly when we want it. He gives us so much more. He gives us what we need when we don't realize that is what we would have wanted all along if we had only been able to see it clearly. I am reminded of that lesson every time I look at my sweet baby G. Would I have chosen for my sweet child to have a disability if given the choice in the beginning? No, I wouldn't. Would I change him now if I could? No, probably not. That may sound cold and strange to some people but G's disability is part of who he is. It is partly responsible for the kind of spirit he has. His disability has brought many special people into our lives. People are naturally drawn to that precious little boy and he has blessed many people with his strength and his joyful spirit.

G's disability has changed our family and helped us to see things in a different way. It has strengthened us and brought us together as a team. We depend on each other in a way that most people will never understand. So just as I have always trusted God when it comes to G, I will continue to trust Him as He leads me into and out of the hallway.

Back in the Hallway

Since it is now 12:30 a.m. it is officially the last day of my student teaching. I have spent the past two days assessing my students individually and have really enjoyed having a few minutes to enjoy each of them without the distraction of 15 other children competing for my attention. Each one of them has a unique personality and I love them all for different reasons. Some of them have personalities that scream "leader". Some are sweet and quiet while others are loud and active. I giggled at the way some of them squirmed around as they read to me. I caught myself before I told them to sit down and be still. It was if God was saying, "let them be who they are and observe the way they learn."

I know that I should be ecstatic at the thought of graduating but to be honest I am not. I have had a goal before me for the past three years. I knew that at the end of each semester I would be registering for different classes but they would still be classes all the same. I thrive when I have direction. I love to have a clearly planned path to follow. When I vacation I spend weeks researching and planning an itinerary. I know it sounds crazy to most people but my vacation lasts much longer than most people's do. I get to plan and dream for weeks prior to even packing the first thing! I know the things I want to do while I am there and rarely come home to discover there was something I wanted to do while I was at my vacation destination that I missed out on. That is just the way I roll. I am a list making, over thinking, schedule oriented individual.

I am having panic attacks because suddenly I feel that I am drifting with no sense of direction. I am in one of the hallways of life. The hallway is filled with many doors. Big doors, little doors, elaborate doors, plain doors. Some doors have signs hanging outside them but I cannot tell if they will open if I try them. There are other doors that seem to be cracked just a little but there is not enough light coming out to tell if that is a hopeful place to go. So I stand here in the hallway, waiting. I am trying to wait patiently without stomping in frustration. I am seeking direction from my Heavenly Father and trusting that He has a plan that is infinitely greater than I can imagine. I follow a blog of a lady that is going through much more serious issues than I face but I agree with her when she says, "It's Hell in the Hallways!"

Back in the Hallway

Since it is now 12:30 a.m. it is officially the last day of my student teaching. I have spent the past two days assessing my students individually and have really enjoyed having a few minutes to enjoy each of them without the distraction of 15 other children competing for my attention. Each one of them has a unique personality and I love them all for different reasons. Some of them have personalities that scream "leader". Some are sweet and quiet while others are loud and active. I giggled at the way some of them squirmed around as they read to me. I caught myself before I told them to sit down and be still. It was if God was saying, "let them be who they are and observe the way they learn."

I know that I should be ecstatic at the thought of graduating but to be honest I am not. I have had a goal before me for the past three years. I knew that at the end of each semester I would be registering for different classes but they would still be classes all the same. I thrive when I have direction. I love to have a clearly planned path to follow. When I vacation I spend weeks researching and planning an itinerary. I know it sounds crazy to most people but my vacation lasts much longer than most people's do. I get to plan and dream for weeks prior to even packing the first thing! I know the things I want to do while I am there and rarely come home to discover there was something I wanted to do while I was at my vacation destination that I missed out on. That is just the way I roll. I am a list making, over thinking, schedule oriented individual.

I am having panic attacks because suddenly I feel that I am drifting with no sense of direction. I am in one of the hallways of life. The hallway is filled with many doors. Big doors, little doors, elaborate doors, plain doors. Some doors have signs hanging outside them but I cannot tell if they will open if I try them. There are other doors that seem to be cracked just a little but there is not enough light coming out to tell if that is a hopeful place to go. So I stand here in the hallway, waiting. I am trying to wait patiently without stomping in frustration. I am seeking direction from my Heavenly Father and trusting that He has a plan that is infinitely greater than I can imagine. I follow a blog of a lady that is going through much more serious issues than I face but I agree with her when she says, "It's Hell in the Hallways!"

A Simple Homescooling Day--Not

Lately I have been fondly remembering my days as a homeschool mom. I remember simpler times when days were spent cuddling up on the sofa to read a good book, having school outside on beautiful spring days, cooking homemade bread from freshly ground wheat, and researching our newest discovery just because we were curious. I miss our weekly Wednesdays at the lake with friends, 4H meetings, and having a clean house all the time.

Those are the things I miss about homeschooling. I have really been thinking about all the things that I shared with T that I do not share with G. Cerebral palsy has stolen a lot from G and I. Carefree days spent playing outside, games of hide and seek, and the freedom to quickly jump in the car to make an impromptu stop at the grocery store are just the tip of the iceberg. There are too many to name. But for all the things it has taken it has given something in return. It has given me a patient boy who loves to be cuddled and is content to sit in the waiting room for an appointment with a doctor that is running an hour late. G is happy sitting with his Mommy all day long if he is allowed to. I am his bestest friend.

When I thought about spring break I imagined all the things that T and I used to do. I had planned for this week to be filled with me getting all my housework finished, spending endless hours reading with G, covering some phonics and math lessons with him and cooking supper every night. Well, was I ever wrong!! I spent most of yesterday taking apart and reassembling G's stander so it could be cleaned. The other part of the day was spent taking G back and forth to the bathroom, picking up movies G repeatedly dumped in the floor, and changing DVDs in Gs DVD player because he took them out 10,000 times.

Today I did manage to cook some pintos for supper in between my DVD duties. I washed two loads of clothes. I even managed to sand and paint a chair I bought at a yard sale. The rest of my day was spent lugging G back and forth to the bathroom, cleaning up after his very messy meals, and plugging up the DVD player 50 times because, "I was just sitting here and the plug came out and I don't remember how to put it back. Can you show me again Mom?"

I sure do love that boy but he is exhausting. How can one little boy who cannot walk (remember someone lost the walker) get into so much stuff? By 6:30 I was pooped. I cleaned the kitchen (mostly) and told G to meet me in my bedroom. He began to crawl in that direction and I heard him say, "I guess I am about to trip over this stuff aparently." He was referring to a drop cloth I left in the living room floor that I used to slipcover a stool. Oh, yeah I made a slipcover for a stool today.

The funny thing about G's statement is he was crawling at the time and was in no danger of tripping (no walker). It amazes me when he says something like that. He doesn't see himself as having a disability. He still imagines that he can snow ski, skate, or do anything else that he sets his mind to. I try to give G experiences with people who rise above their disabilities. Recently I pulled up a video of a young man who does stunts in his wheelchair. I thought that G would like to see the remarkable tricks this boy can do in his wheelchair. Boy, once again I was wrong. G took one look at the screen and said, "Mom, I don't want to watch that wheelchair boy, turn it to most spectacular bloopers ever." I know that someday there will be questions of why am I different but for now my Sweet G believes in magic and tooth fairies and Santa Clause. His goals in life are to be knocked out like Spencer on ICarly someday.

I learned a huge lesson today. G is not T. He is his own unique person who will have his own experiences. They will not be the same as they would be if he didn't have a disabilty but they will be his and they will be good. I also learned that my memory is sometimes selective. I somehow forgot all the days I thought would never come to an end. And most importantly I learned that although I do miss homeschooling I do not think it is the right choice for G or for me right now. I will cherish school breaks and summer vacation knowing that they will soon pass and I can go back to work and rest.

A Simple Homescooling Day--Not

Lately I have been fondly remembering my days as a homeschool mom. I remember simpler times when days were spent cuddling up on the sofa to read a good book, having school outside on beautiful spring days, cooking homemade bread from freshly ground wheat, and researching our newest discovery just because we were curious. I miss our weekly Wednesdays at the lake with friends, 4H meetings, and having a clean house all the time.

Those are the things I miss about homeschooling. I have really been thinking about all the things that I shared with T that I do not share with G. Cerebral palsy has stolen a lot from G and I. Carefree days spent playing outside, games of hide and seek, and the freedom to quickly jump in the car to make an impromptu stop at the grocery store are just the tip of the iceberg. There are too many to name. But for all the things it has taken it has given something in return. It has given me a patient boy who loves to be cuddled and is content to sit in the waiting room for an appointment with a doctor that is running an hour late. G is happy sitting with his Mommy all day long if he is allowed to. I am his bestest friend.

When I thought about spring break I imagined all the things that T and I used to do. I had planned for this week to be filled with me getting all my housework finished, spending endless hours reading with G, covering some phonics and math lessons with him and cooking supper every night. Well, was I ever wrong!! I spent most of yesterday taking apart and reassembling G's stander so it could be cleaned. The other part of the day was spent taking G back and forth to the bathroom, picking up movies G repeatedly dumped in the floor, and changing DVDs in Gs DVD player because he took them out 10,000 times.

Today I did manage to cook some pintos for supper in between my DVD duties. I washed two loads of clothes. I even managed to sand and paint a chair I bought at a yard sale. The rest of my day was spent lugging G back and forth to the bathroom, cleaning up after his very messy meals, and plugging up the DVD player 50 times because, "I was just sitting here and the plug came out and I don't remember how to put it back. Can you show me again Mom?"

I sure do love that boy but he is exhausting. How can one little boy who cannot walk (remember someone lost the walker) get into so much stuff? By 6:30 I was pooped. I cleaned the kitchen (mostly) and told G to meet me in my bedroom. He began to crawl in that direction and I heard him say, "I guess I am about to trip over this stuff aparently." He was referring to a drop cloth I left in the living room floor that I used to slipcover a stool. Oh, yeah I made a slipcover for a stool today.

The funny thing about G's statement is he was crawling at the time and was in no danger of tripping (no walker). It amazes me when he says something like that. He doesn't see himself as having a disability. He still imagines that he can snow ski, skate, or do anything else that he sets his mind to. I try to give G experiences with people who rise above their disabilities. Recently I pulled up a video of a young man who does stunts in his wheelchair. I thought that G would like to see the remarkable tricks this boy can do in his wheelchair. Boy, once again I was wrong. G took one look at the screen and said, "Mom, I don't want to watch that wheelchair boy, turn it to most spectacular bloopers ever." I know that someday there will be questions of why am I different but for now my Sweet G believes in magic and tooth fairies and Santa Clause. His goals in life are to be knocked out like Spencer on ICarly someday.

I learned a huge lesson today. G is not T. He is his own unique person who will have his own experiences. They will not be the same as they would be if he didn't have a disabilty but they will be his and they will be good. I also learned that my memory is sometimes selective. I somehow forgot all the days I thought would never come to an end. And most importantly I learned that although I do miss homeschooling I do not think it is the right choice for G or for me right now. I will cherish school breaks and summer vacation knowing that they will soon pass and I can go back to work and rest.

Not Me Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was started by McMama. You can stop by  her blog and find out she and a lot of other bloggers have NOT been doing this week. But first let me tell you all about the things that I have not been doing.

There is absolutely no way that I started my spring break off by "breaking" one of Sweet G's vital pieces of therapy equipment. I would never take apart and clean something so expensive and important. I most certainly would NOT take it upon myself to make adjustments to the equipment in the process of cleaning it and I definitely did NOT break it while NOT doing those things. My precious husband (AKA Knight in Shining Armor) did NOT have to come to my rescue and retrieve the dislocated piece so that I could attempt to put everything back together. I most definitely did NOT spend most of the morning devoted to this one project because I have too many things to get accomplished this week to do that.

I did NOT put a hairband on my Sweet little boy to keep his "Who Hair" from tickling my nose when we snuggled on the sofa this afternoon.

We definitely have NOT lost my son's walker in the past week. After all, in the words of a person who does not have a special needs child once asked me, "how do you loose a walker? Doesn't he need that to walk?" If someone did take it to school because his wheelchair was left at therapy they would certainly remember to pick it up especially since the school will be locked for the rest of this week.

I definitely did NOT mistakenly think that my sons toenails were bruised from his AFOs and shoes being too tight when they were really dirty from crawling around in the floor. What kind of mother doesn't have spotless floors?

My husband most certainly did NOT carry our 50 lb. son up the 107 steps in our town's clocktower while on a field trip. Well, actually he did--and the fact that he is moving extra slowly the past few days is proof. He most certainly IS a great daddy!!

Not Me Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was started by McMama. You can stop by  her blog and find out she and a lot of other bloggers have NOT been doing this week. But first let me tell you all about the things that I have not been doing.

There is absolutely no way that I started my spring break off by "breaking" one of Sweet G's vital pieces of therapy equipment. I would never take apart and clean something so expensive and important. I most certainly would NOT take it upon myself to make adjustments to the equipment in the process of cleaning it and I definitely did NOT break it while NOT doing those things. My precious husband (AKA Knight in Shining Armor) did NOT have to come to my rescue and retrieve the dislocated piece so that I could attempt to put everything back together. I most definitely did NOT spend most of the morning devoted to this one project because I have too many things to get accomplished this week to do that.

I did NOT put a hairband on my Sweet little boy to keep his "Who Hair" from tickling my nose when we snuggled on the sofa this afternoon.

We definitely have NOT lost my son's walker in the past week. After all, in the words of a person who does not have a special needs child once asked me, "how do you loose a walker? Doesn't he need that to walk?" If someone did take it to school because his wheelchair was left at therapy they would certainly remember to pick it up especially since the school will be locked for the rest of this week.

I definitely did NOT mistakenly think that my sons toenails were bruised from his AFOs and shoes being too tight when they were really dirty from crawling around in the floor. What kind of mother doesn't have spotless floors?

My husband most certainly did NOT carry our 50 lb. son up the 107 steps in our town's clocktower while on a field trip. Well, actually he did--and the fact that he is moving extra slowly the past few days is proof. He most certainly IS a great daddy!!

A Box Full of Memories

Today J and I did some much needed orgainizing in the garage. It is amazing how much junk can accumulate in such a short time. We have had more yard sales in the past 4 years than we have in our 26 years of marriage so I don't understand why we have more stuff now than ever.

As usual when organizing and cleaning we found a few treasures from the past mixed in with all the junk. Most people (probably including my husband) would say, "why do you think that is a treasure?" Well, I really can't tell you why other than the fact that I am a sentimental fool who loves to look back at things past.

The best treasure we found was a box marked with my name on it. We opened it and found it was filled with a menagerie of items from my childhood. There was a dress my mother made me for the bi-centenial celebration in 1976, a tiny jersey from my career in softball, a book given to me by a friend of my grandmother, some old photos, birthday cards, valentines from who knows what grade, my cap and diploma from my high school graduation, and some old pictures and letters from my school days.

The letters turned out to be a real hoot for me. I found letters written by my little sister which described her feelings for me. I don't know what I had done to that girl but she was obviously pretty upset with me. I found a letter from a best friend from junior high inviting me to spend the night at her house the next weekend. The box also contained lots of letters from a pen pal that I wrote to for several years. There were several letters from a girl I am sure was trying to pry information from me because we liked the same boy. I also found a few sweet notes from admirers proclaiming their love for me. Those notes were so sweet. The boys really put their hearts on the line and it pains me that I can't remember how I handled those situations. They were sweet innocent letters from adolescent boys who braved the courage to tell a girl how they felt. I hope I was kind and considerate of their feelings when I responded to them but I am so afraid that in my shyness I probably handled it all wrong.

When I think of times from my past when someone reached out to me I find myself wishing that I could go back in time. If I could I would go back and relive lots of moments when my shyness gave others the impression that I was a snob or that I was making light of their feelings. It is amazing how much perspective time can provide. Reading those letters today made me realize how often I was misunderstood and how often I most likely misunderstood those around me. For that I am truly sorry. That little box held a lot of lessons for me and gave me more than a few laughs. Boy, did I need that today!!

A Box Full of Memories

Today J and I did some much needed orgainizing in the garage. It is amazing how much junk can accumulate in such a short time. We have had more yard sales in the past 4 years than we have in our 26 years of marriage so I don't understand why we have more stuff now than ever.

As usual when organizing and cleaning we found a few treasures from the past mixed in with all the junk. Most people (probably including my husband) would say, "why do you think that is a treasure?" Well, I really can't tell you why other than the fact that I am a sentimental fool who loves to look back at things past.

The best treasure we found was a box marked with my name on it. We opened it and found it was filled with a menagerie of items from my childhood. There was a dress my mother made me for the bi-centenial celebration in 1976, a tiny jersey from my career in softball, a book given to me by a friend of my grandmother, some old photos, birthday cards, valentines from who knows what grade, my cap and diploma from my high school graduation, and some old pictures and letters from my school days.

The letters turned out to be a real hoot for me. I found letters written by my little sister which described her feelings for me. I don't know what I had done to that girl but she was obviously pretty upset with me. I found a letter from a best friend from junior high inviting me to spend the night at her house the next weekend. The box also contained lots of letters from a pen pal that I wrote to for several years. There were several letters from a girl I am sure was trying to pry information from me because we liked the same boy. I also found a few sweet notes from admirers proclaiming their love for me. Those notes were so sweet. The boys really put their hearts on the line and it pains me that I can't remember how I handled those situations. They were sweet innocent letters from adolescent boys who braved the courage to tell a girl how they felt. I hope I was kind and considerate of their feelings when I responded to them but I am so afraid that in my shyness I probably handled it all wrong.

When I think of times from my past when someone reached out to me I find myself wishing that I could go back in time. If I could I would go back and relive lots of moments when my shyness gave others the impression that I was a snob or that I was making light of their feelings. It is amazing how much perspective time can provide. Reading those letters today made me realize how often I was misunderstood and how often I most likely misunderstood those around me. For that I am truly sorry. That little box held a lot of lessons for me and gave me more than a few laughs. Boy, did I need that today!!

The Cat Years

A few years ago when my son began his journey into the teen years I went to his pediatrician on the verge of tears. I explained the emotional roller coaster that my son seemed to be riding and the confusion that it was causing me. Since I have never been an adolescent boy (obviously) I didn't know how puberty affected young boys. When I asked my husband about his experiences in this area his memory of those days failed him as usual.

Dr. B smiled when I discribed the ups and downs my son was experiencing and assured me that it is perfectly normal for this to occur. "But I thought only girls went through the crazy, irrational, emotional ups and downs," I cried. Again Dr. B smiled and said wait here I have something to give you. He returned minutes later and this is what he gave me:

The Cat Years

From San Francisco Chronicle

Adair Lara

I just realized that while children are dogs--loyal and affectionate--teenagers are cats. It's so easy to be a dog owner. You feed it, train it, boss it around. It puts its head on your knee and gazes at you as if you were a Rembrandt painting. It bounds indoors with enthusiasm when you call it.

Then, around age 13, your adorable little puppy turns into a big old cat. When you tell it to come inside, it looks amazed, as if wondering who died and made you emperor. Instead of dogging your footsteps, it disappears. You won't see it again until it gets hungry--then it pauses to sprint through the kitchen long enough to turn its nose up at whatever you're serving. When you reach out to ruffle its head, in that old affectionate gesture, it twists away from you, then gives you a blank stare, as if trying to remember where it has seen you before.

You, not realizing that the dog is now a cat, think something must be desperately wrong with it. It seems so antisocial, so distant, sort of depressed. It won't go on family outings.

Since you're the one who raised it, taught it to fetch and stay and sit on command, you assume you did something wrong. Flooded with guilt and fear, you redouble your efforts to make your pet behave.

Only now you're dealing with a cat, so everything that worked before now produces the opposite of the desired result. Call it, and it runs away. Tell it to sit, and it jumps on the counter. The more you go toward it, wringing your hands, the more it moves away.

Instead of continuing to act like a dog owner, you can learn to behave like a cat owner. Put a dish of food near the door, and let it come to you. But remember that a cat needs your help and affection too. Sit still, and it will come, seeking that warm, comforting lap it has not entirely forgotten. Be there to open the door for it.

One day, your grown-up child will walk into the kitchen, give you a big kiss and say, "You've been on your feet all day. Let me get those dishes for you." Then you will realize your cat is a dog again.

While typing this article I just realized that as my first cat is turning back into a dog my youngest dog will be turning into a cat. Oh, no!! I am not sure I can do this again.

The Cat Years

A few years ago when my son began his journey into the teen years I went to his pediatrician on the verge of tears. I explained the emotional roller coaster that my son seemed to be riding and the confusion that it was causing me. Since I have never been an adolescent boy (obviously) I didn't know how puberty affected young boys. When I asked my husband about his experiences in this area his memory of those days failed him as usual.

Dr. B smiled when I discribed the ups and downs my son was experiencing and assured me that it is perfectly normal for this to occur. "But I thought only girls went through the crazy, irrational, emotional ups and downs," I cried. Again Dr. B smiled and said wait here I have something to give you. He returned minutes later and this is what he gave me:

The Cat Years

From San Francisco Chronicle

Adair Lara

I just realized that while children are dogs--loyal and affectionate--teenagers are cats. It's so easy to be a dog owner. You feed it, train it, boss it around. It puts its head on your knee and gazes at you as if you were a Rembrandt painting. It bounds indoors with enthusiasm when you call it.

Then, around age 13, your adorable little puppy turns into a big old cat. When you tell it to come inside, it looks amazed, as if wondering who died and made you emperor. Instead of dogging your footsteps, it disappears. You won't see it again until it gets hungry--then it pauses to sprint through the kitchen long enough to turn its nose up at whatever you're serving. When you reach out to ruffle its head, in that old affectionate gesture, it twists away from you, then gives you a blank stare, as if trying to remember where it has seen you before.

You, not realizing that the dog is now a cat, think something must be desperately wrong with it. It seems so antisocial, so distant, sort of depressed. It won't go on family outings.

Since you're the one who raised it, taught it to fetch and stay and sit on command, you assume you did something wrong. Flooded with guilt and fear, you redouble your efforts to make your pet behave.

Only now you're dealing with a cat, so everything that worked before now produces the opposite of the desired result. Call it, and it runs away. Tell it to sit, and it jumps on the counter. The more you go toward it, wringing your hands, the more it moves away.

Instead of continuing to act like a dog owner, you can learn to behave like a cat owner. Put a dish of food near the door, and let it come to you. But remember that a cat needs your help and affection too. Sit still, and it will come, seeking that warm, comforting lap it has not entirely forgotten. Be there to open the door for it.

One day, your grown-up child will walk into the kitchen, give you a big kiss and say, "You've been on your feet all day. Let me get those dishes for you." Then you will realize your cat is a dog again.

While typing this article I just realized that as my first cat is turning back into a dog my youngest dog will be turning into a cat. Oh, no!! I am not sure I can do this again.

The Way I Feel Tonight, Everything Will Be Alright

I have never been good at adjusting to changes in my life. I prefer to be sitting in the driver's seat in full control, or at least I like to think I am. The problem is that life is not like that. As much as we desire control in reality we have very little if any. That does not mean that we don't have a responsibility to do the right things, to be cautious, and to strive to reach goals. We do have some control over our lives, just never full control. Life has too many facets for us to be able to navigate on our own.

I have been following the blog of a young girl who is attempting to be the youngest person to complete an unassisted solo circumnavigation of the world. Her name is Abby and she is 16 years old. Her journey began on January 23 of this year in California and she is now somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. She is the sole occupant of her sailboat and has not laid eyes on another human since her journey began. For almost three months she has been alone at sea. It is her intention to sail completely around the world without stepping foot on land. She is the sole person steering her craft but that does not mean that her course is the one she had planned. The wind and the waves determine much of what happens and her pace is not decided by her but by God. She has tried to prepare for every possible scenario but the possibilities are too numerous to imagine. There have already been many things that she has had to deal with in her short journey. Her autopilot has gone out and her backup autopilot had a hydraulic leak both of which she alone had to repair. She is battling the wind, waves, and temperatures. She is almost always wet and has sailed in temperatures in the lower 40's for much of the trip so far.

She chose the course she is taking because she fears pirates. She is hoping to avoid them by staying (for the most part) at least 100 miles from land for most of the trip. I think about the strength this young woman possesses often. I am amazed at her courage and wisdom. Most people will never mature in their lifetime to the point that this young woman has in her short 16 years on this earth. She inspires me, humbles me, and fills me with awe at the strength of the human spirit. So tonight, as most nights, I am thinking of Abby somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, alone and content. Steering her ship while all the time knowing she is not in full control of her course; constantly having to adjust her plans to those of nature.

I think Abby has many lessons to teach us if we will only be open to receive them. She has taught me that I should have a plan in mind but expect for things not to go the way I would like. During these times I should not loose hope but instead plot a new course that points me toward my destination. I need to fight like everything depends on me, but keep my faith in God knowing that He is in control. His plans are far above my plans, even when His plans are hard to accept. So tonight I am turning on my auto pilot and am going to rest easy knowing that my God is in full control. ; ) Sorry DSC I had to use that title since it so perfectly fit.

The Way I Feel Tonight, Everything Will Be Alright

I have never been good at adjusting to changes in my life. I prefer to be sitting in the driver's seat in full control, or at least I like to think I am. The problem is that life is not like that. As much as we desire control in reality we have very little if any. That does not mean that we don't have a responsibility to do the right things, to be cautious, and to strive to reach goals. We do have some control over our lives, just never full control. Life has too many facets for us to be able to navigate on our own.

I have been following the blog of a young girl who is attempting to be the youngest person to complete an unassisted solo circumnavigation of the world. Her name is Abby and she is 16 years old. Her journey began on January 23 of this year in California and she is now somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. She is the sole occupant of her sailboat and has not laid eyes on another human since her journey began. For almost three months she has been alone at sea. It is her intention to sail completely around the world without stepping foot on land. She is the sole person steering her craft but that does not mean that her course is the one she had planned. The wind and the waves determine much of what happens and her pace is not decided by her but by God. She has tried to prepare for every possible scenario but the possibilities are too numerous to imagine. There have already been many things that she has had to deal with in her short journey. Her autopilot has gone out and her backup autopilot had a hydraulic leak both of which she alone had to repair. She is battling the wind, waves, and temperatures. She is almost always wet and has sailed in temperatures in the lower 40's for much of the trip so far.

She chose the course she is taking because she fears pirates. She is hoping to avoid them by staying (for the most part) at least 100 miles from land for most of the trip. I think about the strength this young woman possesses often. I am amazed at her courage and wisdom. Most people will never mature in their lifetime to the point that this young woman has in her short 16 years on this earth. She inspires me, humbles me, and fills me with awe at the strength of the human spirit. So tonight, as most nights, I am thinking of Abby somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, alone and content. Steering her ship while all the time knowing she is not in full control of her course; constantly having to adjust her plans to those of nature.

I think Abby has many lessons to teach us if we will only be open to receive them. She has taught me that I should have a plan in mind but expect for things not to go the way I would like. During these times I should not loose hope but instead plot a new course that points me toward my destination. I need to fight like everything depends on me, but keep my faith in God knowing that He is in control. His plans are far above my plans, even when His plans are hard to accept. So tonight I am turning on my auto pilot and am going to rest easy knowing that my God is in full control. ; ) Sorry DSC I had to use that title since it so perfectly fit.

Making New Friends

Hi, thanks for stopping by. I am relatively new at blogging and my blog is a work in progress. I am enjoying finding new blogs everyday and hope to make some new blogging friends.I recently came across the blog of Amanda at Serenity Now. She is hosting a party encouraging bloggers to introduce themselves and link the post back to her blog. The purpose for a blog party is to visit new blogs and be able to get a quick idea of what the blog is all about. Who knows you may find your new favorite blog by doing this and you will increase the traffic on your own blog.

There are a list of questions that Amanda gave as a guide for the blog post. So, without further adieu. . .

How long have you been blogging?

I started my blog in January of 2008.

Tell me about your blog title. Why did you choose it?
My blog title is Sweet Life. I chose it because I feel very blessed to be able to live the sweet blessings that God has given me and my family. At this point in my life I am learning to be content in whatever situation I find myself.

What do you blog about?
I mostly blog about my day to day life. I am a teacher so there are lots of posts about funny things my students say. I also write about my faith and my precious family. I am the mother of a special little boy with cerebral palsy and a teenager who is about to leave the nest. My blog is evolving as time passes and I am trying new things when I have time.

What is your favorite thing about blogging?
The thing I love most about blogging is that it gives me a place to record my thoughts. I love reading about other bloggers and have found some very heartwarming blogs which bring me such joy. I love being able to read what other people write about their own lives and am inspired by the strength I see these women display in adversity.

Why did you start your blog?
I started my blog after following the blog of an acquaintance for several months. She writes about her faith and life as the mother of triplets. The idea of having all the sweet memories of my family recorded so my children will have a way of remembering life's sweet moments and having a way to see into the heart of their mother just seemed to be the perfect gift to give to my children.

Thanks for stopping by. I  hope you enjoyed my blog and I hope you will visit again soon.

Making New Friends

Hi, thanks for stopping by. I am relatively new at blogging and my blog is a work in progress. I am enjoying finding new blogs everyday and hope to make some new blogging friends.I recently came across the blog of Amanda at Serenity Now. She is hosting a party encouraging bloggers to introduce themselves and link the post back to her blog. The purpose for a blog party is to visit new blogs and be able to get a quick idea of what the blog is all about. Who knows you may find your new favorite blog by doing this and you will increase the traffic on your own blog.

There are a list of questions that Amanda gave as a guide for the blog post. So, without further adieu. . .

How long have you been blogging?

I started my blog in January of 2008.

Tell me about your blog title. Why did you choose it?
My blog title is Sweet Life. I chose it because I feel very blessed to be able to live the sweet blessings that God has given me and my family. At this point in my life I am learning to be content in whatever situation I find myself.

What do you blog about?
I mostly blog about my day to day life. I am a teacher so there are lots of posts about funny things my students say. I also write about my faith and my precious family. I am the mother of a special little boy with cerebral palsy and a teenager who is about to leave the nest. My blog is evolving as time passes and I am trying new things when I have time.

What is your favorite thing about blogging?
The thing I love most about blogging is that it gives me a place to record my thoughts. I love reading about other bloggers and have found some very heartwarming blogs which bring me such joy. I love being able to read what other people write about their own lives and am inspired by the strength I see these women display in adversity.

Why did you start your blog?
I started my blog after following the blog of an acquaintance for several months. She writes about her faith and life as the mother of triplets. The idea of having all the sweet memories of my family recorded so my children will have a way of remembering life's sweet moments and having a way to see into the heart of their mother just seemed to be the perfect gift to give to my children.

Thanks for stopping by. I  hope you enjoyed my blog and I hope you will visit again soon.

Small Town Topics

I was born and raised in a small community in Northwest Georgia. There were stories told in the hallways of our high school about two devil worshippers who lived way out in the boonies at a place named Corpsewood Manor. Now, I was quite the scardy cat back then and wanted no part of going up there, devil worshippers or not. I grew up in the country and knew all too well how dark it gets when the sun goes down, but this place was so isolated it made my neck of the woods seem like downtown Atlanta. I frankly found many other things to occupy my time rather than head up to that desolate place to meet two strangers who were basically hermits. I wouldn't have gone if you told me one of them was Jesus and the other was John the Baptist. The location of the house was enough to extinguish my interests; I really could have cared less about their religious beliefs.

As most anyone who lives in a small town would be I was interested in the stories I heard. Not interested enough to visit—remember this is me:

When I was a sophomore in high school the two men who built and lived in Corpsewood were brutally murdered by two young men. I do remember having a deep desire to attend the trial when it took place but if my memory serves me correctly I was still a senior in high school and couldn't get out of school. If it had been skipping to go get some fast food and ride around town I would have leaped into the car but I was either not bold enough or stupid enough to skip school and head to the court house.

Today as I was glancing across FB I noticed that one of my friends had become a fan of Corpsewood Manor. I must admit that I found myself engrossed in the posts when I clicked over to check the page out. Before you hurry on over to the Corpsewood page let me clarify the reason I was so spellboundby the posts I found. These murders took place almost 30 years ago. That is a very important fact to remember. Reading those posts was kind of like watching a train wreck. You know you probably don't want to watch, probably shouldn't watch but just can't bring yourself to turn away. I guess I wasn't surprised by the drama that was taking place on this FB page. There isn't a lot to do in that small town—less to do now than when I was growing up. But people please!!! Surely there has to be something better than arguing on FB about whether or not you had ever been to Corpsewood, knew the victims, or was "kin" to the men that committed the crime. I don't want to sound insensitive to the tragedy of two people losing their lives, two young men that will forever pay for the decision and actions they committed in such a brief moment of their lives, or the loss that the families of each of these men will forever experience but this happened 30 years ago and it is all you have to talk about. I really can't decide how I feel about the things I read. Part of me is deeply saddened by the fact that things in that small town have not changed. At the same time I find it amusing that these people cannot see the irony in the fact that they get offended when someone says something to them that they just said about someone else. They sure can dish it out but can't take it when it is turned the other way. That is so often the case. We are quick to judge and reprimand others but are enraged when someone questions us on an issue. The funniest part of it all is that most of them claim to have been friends of the victims and were frequent guests of the men. I wonder why none of them seem to know each other? It seems to me that with all the visiting that was taking place somebody should have crossed paths on occasion. Several of them say that they graduated around the same time that I did but I can't remember most of them. Maybe they were foreign exchange students. Hey, as a matter of fact one of them looked a lot like that flaxen-haired Japanese homecoming queen. I always wondered what happened to that girl. Hmmmmm.

Small Town Topics

I was born and raised in a small community in Northwest Georgia. There were stories told in the hallways of our high school about two devil worshippers who lived way out in the boonies at a place named Corpsewood Manor. Now, I was quite the scardy cat back then and wanted no part of going up there, devil worshippers or not. I grew up in the country and knew all too well how dark it gets when the sun goes down, but this place was so isolated it made my neck of the woods seem like downtown Atlanta. I frankly found many other things to occupy my time rather than head up to that desolate place to meet two strangers who were basically hermits. I wouldn't have gone if you told me one of them was Jesus and the other was John the Baptist. The location of the house was enough to extinguish my interests; I really could have cared less about their religious beliefs.

As most anyone who lives in a small town would be I was interested in the stories I heard. Not interested enough to visit—remember this is me:

When I was a sophomore in high school the two men who built and lived in Corpsewood were brutally murdered by two young men. I do remember having a deep desire to attend the trial when it took place but if my memory serves me correctly I was still a senior in high school and couldn't get out of school. If it had been skipping to go get some fast food and ride around town I would have leaped into the car but I was either not bold enough or stupid enough to skip school and head to the court house.

Today as I was glancing across FB I noticed that one of my friends had become a fan of Corpsewood Manor. I must admit that I found myself engrossed in the posts when I clicked over to check the page out. Before you hurry on over to the Corpsewood page let me clarify the reason I was so spellboundby the posts I found. These murders took place almost 30 years ago. That is a very important fact to remember. Reading those posts was kind of like watching a train wreck. You know you probably don't want to watch, probably shouldn't watch but just can't bring yourself to turn away. I guess I wasn't surprised by the drama that was taking place on this FB page. There isn't a lot to do in that small town—less to do now than when I was growing up. But people please!!! Surely there has to be something better than arguing on FB about whether or not you had ever been to Corpsewood, knew the victims, or was "kin" to the men that committed the crime. I don't want to sound insensitive to the tragedy of two people losing their lives, two young men that will forever pay for the decision and actions they committed in such a brief moment of their lives, or the loss that the families of each of these men will forever experience but this happened 30 years ago and it is all you have to talk about. I really can't decide how I feel about the things I read. Part of me is deeply saddened by the fact that things in that small town have not changed. At the same time I find it amusing that these people cannot see the irony in the fact that they get offended when someone says something to them that they just said about someone else. They sure can dish it out but can't take it when it is turned the other way. That is so often the case. We are quick to judge and reprimand others but are enraged when someone questions us on an issue. The funniest part of it all is that most of them claim to have been friends of the victims and were frequent guests of the men. I wonder why none of them seem to know each other? It seems to me that with all the visiting that was taking place somebody should have crossed paths on occasion. Several of them say that they graduated around the same time that I did but I can't remember most of them. Maybe they were foreign exchange students. Hey, as a matter of fact one of them looked a lot like that flaxen-haired Japanese homecoming queen. I always wondered what happened to that girl. Hmmmmm.

Many Indians—One Tribe

As usual yesterday's gathering left everyone who attended with great memories to file away in our heart. The problem is some of us seem to have sprouted some leaks in our memories. It is funny what some of us remember that others have long forgotten. Things that seemed so important in high school have vaporized and all that is left behind are the lingering memories of good times. I always find myself in a very reflective mood after our reunions. It is like "the wise one" (David) said, "We spend our lives chasing age." When we are young we are striving to become older and when we are older we long to regain our youth. That is where I find myself after days spent with old friends; wishing there was a way to recapture that time when I was young.
If it were not for the special bonds I feel strengthening between us each time we are together I would probably be depressed. As much as it pains me to say it, getting older is really a great thing. I find myself becoming more appreciative of the little things life has to offer, I am content in the moment I am currently in, and satisfied even in times of trial. I most definitely live a blessed life. God has given me much more than I deserve.
I have often heard it said that if you are fortunate enough to find one or two true friends in life you are lucky. What our class has is so unusual. I would do just about anything for my friends from the class of 84. We have a bond that is not easily broken. I also feel that there are many of you that I could call on and you would be there for me. That is such a rare and special gift. I thank each of you for simply being yourself. Each of you holds such wonderful unique qualities. Individually we are so different but when we come together we are one. We are the CHS class of 84. There are many Indians but one tribe. The one burning question is, "Whatever happened to our flaxen-haired Japanese Homecoming Queen?" If you see her please bring her to the next reunion because apparently some of us don't believe she ever existed. The memory of her has slowly leaked out of their brains.

Many Indians—One Tribe

As usual yesterday's gathering left everyone who attended with great memories to file away in our heart. The problem is some of us seem to have sprouted some leaks in our memories. It is funny what some of us remember that others have long forgotten. Things that seemed so important in high school have vaporized and all that is left behind are the lingering memories of good times. I always find myself in a very reflective mood after our reunions. It is like "the wise one" (David) said, "We spend our lives chasing age." When we are young we are striving to become older and when we are older we long to regain our youth. That is where I find myself after days spent with old friends; wishing there was a way to recapture that time when I was young.
If it were not for the special bonds I feel strengthening between us each time we are together I would probably be depressed. As much as it pains me to say it, getting older is really a great thing. I find myself becoming more appreciative of the little things life has to offer, I am content in the moment I am currently in, and satisfied even in times of trial. I most definitely live a blessed life. God has given me much more than I deserve.
I have often heard it said that if you are fortunate enough to find one or two true friends in life you are lucky. What our class has is so unusual. I would do just about anything for my friends from the class of 84. We have a bond that is not easily broken. I also feel that there are many of you that I could call on and you would be there for me. That is such a rare and special gift. I thank each of you for simply being yourself. Each of you holds such wonderful unique qualities. Individually we are so different but when we come together we are one. We are the CHS class of 84. There are many Indians but one tribe. The one burning question is, "Whatever happened to our flaxen-haired Japanese Homecoming Queen?" If you see her please bring her to the next reunion because apparently some of us don't believe she ever existed. The memory of her has slowly leaked out of their brains.

Fuzzy Wuzzy and the Perfect Host

This afternoon I was greeted by G when I arrived home. He was propped up on the sofa watching television and waiting for me to get home. He immediately said, "I have an announcement to make." He then called out to his brother, "T bring me that bookbag I brought home."

T came into the room almost immediately carrying a small clear bookbag containing one very loved bear, a small white rabbit and a journal to use to record the adventures of the bear while he was at our house. It turns out that the bear is named Fuzzy Wuzzy. Of course the first thing that came to mind when I read this was "Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear, Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair. Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn't fuzzy was he?" I am sure that early in his life Fuzzy Wuzzy did indeed have a beautiful coat of fuzzy furry hair. That is not the case today. Did I mention that he has been very well loved?

When I think of all the little boys and girls that have taken Fuzzy Wuzzy home with them, played with him, told him their secrets, given him their hugs and kisses, and cuddled up to sleep with him at night, I actually tear up. How wonderful to imagine all that love poured into one little bear. Reading the adventures of Fuzzy Wuzzy and the many children he has followed home over the years fascinated me. I couldn't help getting caught up in the book. I found myself wondering what Fuzzy Wuzzy would do next. I asked Sweet G what he wanted to do with Fuzzy Wuzzy and after a brief moment of reflection he answered, "I know, we need to take Fuzzy Wuzzy out to dinner. You know he is only going to be here one night Momma. I have to take him back tomorrow."

I thought this was pretty clever for G to think of. I must admit that his reasoning made it hard to resist. So, after a quick call to J it was decided that dinner was indeed in Fuzzy Wuzzy's future.

Fuzzy Wuzzy has had many adventures. He has watched a lot of television, played plenty of video games, been to many sporting events, jumped on a trampoline, and slept with every child that has taken him home. And after tonight he can add going to work (J had a service call) and eating at the world's best barbeque place. I may be prejudice but I think my Sweet G was the perfect host to his new friend.

The perfect host and the perfect houseguest!!

Fuzzy Wuzzy and the Perfect Host

This afternoon I was greeted by G when I arrived home. He was propped up on the sofa watching television and waiting for me to get home. He immediately said, "I have an announcement to make." He then called out to his brother, "T bring me that bookbag I brought home."

T came into the room almost immediately carrying a small clear bookbag containing one very loved bear, a small white rabbit and a journal to use to record the adventures of the bear while he was at our house. It turns out that the bear is named Fuzzy Wuzzy. Of course the first thing that came to mind when I read this was "Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear, Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair. Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn't fuzzy was he?" I am sure that early in his life Fuzzy Wuzzy did indeed have a beautiful coat of fuzzy furry hair. That is not the case today. Did I mention that he has been very well loved?

When I think of all the little boys and girls that have taken Fuzzy Wuzzy home with them, played with him, told him their secrets, given him their hugs and kisses, and cuddled up to sleep with him at night, I actually tear up. How wonderful to imagine all that love poured into one little bear. Reading the adventures of Fuzzy Wuzzy and the many children he has followed home over the years fascinated me. I couldn't help getting caught up in the book. I found myself wondering what Fuzzy Wuzzy would do next. I asked Sweet G what he wanted to do with Fuzzy Wuzzy and after a brief moment of reflection he answered, "I know, we need to take Fuzzy Wuzzy out to dinner. You know he is only going to be here one night Momma. I have to take him back tomorrow."

I thought this was pretty clever for G to think of. I must admit that his reasoning made it hard to resist. So, after a quick call to J it was decided that dinner was indeed in Fuzzy Wuzzy's future.

Fuzzy Wuzzy has had many adventures. He has watched a lot of television, played plenty of video games, been to many sporting events, jumped on a trampoline, and slept with every child that has taken him home. And after tonight he can add going to work (J had a service call) and eating at the world's best barbeque place. I may be prejudice but I think my Sweet G was the perfect host to his new friend.

The perfect host and the perfect houseguest!!

Paper That Just Won’t Cooperate

My Sweet G has not been his typical pleasant even tempered, compliant child as of late. He has decided that he has an opinion on things and is growing very comfortable expressing those opinions. Not only has he been doing this at home, but he has been doing it at school also. He has been choosing to passively defy one certain teacher in particular. She is a great teacher and is very passionate about her job. She does not want to frustrate G if he is not capable of doing the work but feels strongly that we need to push him a little harder to see just how much he is capable of accomplishing. G is a very smart little boy. He can hear the first few notes of a song and tell you the artist and title immediately. He has an unbelievable ear for music. He can sing the lyrics to a song after hearing it only once and a lot of times can sing part of the song on the first time. He just recognizes patterns very quickly and can predict the ending of some of the lines of a song before they have been sung. He is truly amazing. Because of some of the talents he displays like this ability to memorize easily his teacher really wants to push him now to see just what will happen.

G's recent discovery of his free will and his new found need and desire for independence has resulted in him pushing the envelope to see just what he can get by with. He has upped the stakes and after completing one math problem begins his new trick of ignoring the teacher. He just sits there as if he has suddenly become deaf as well as being orthopedically impaired, selective hearing to the inth degree. He sits for 5, 10, even 20 minutes at a time. Last week his teacher said the words that makes every elementary school student's heart sink, "Move your stick." This caused an eruption of tears that lasted several minutes. After three trips to check on him to see if he was in control of himself and was ready to work he finally decided he was. Oh, but alas he had waited too long to make the decision and was out of time. He was told that he would have to come back during his activity time to finish. When he returned he finished in two minutes. Come on now G, get with the program and stop being so stubborn.

This morning J had to give me a ride to school because my van decided it wanted to break down 20 feet from the entrance to my school last week. We dropped Sweet G off at his school first since his school is closer to our house. Mrs. B came to the truck to get our precious little boy and I noticed that when he saw it was she who was coming to get him he had dropped his head and refused to look at her. That boy!!

This evening when I finally arrived home from my evening class I asked G how his day went. I asked if he did math with Mrs. B and his reply was something I didn't expect even from him. He said, "I tried Mom, but that paper just wouldn't listen to me. I don't know why it wouldn't cooperate."

I know that underneath all that stubborn uncooperative behavior there is a little boy with a tender, loving, sweet spirit. Oh, how I can sympathize with him. Sometimes it is just so easy to do the wrong thing and so difficult to do the things we know are right. So, just as my Heavenly Father never gives up on me, I will continue to believe in my Sweet G and nudge him in the direction he should go. He is at a tender place right now. He is beginning to ask some deep spiritual questions and I feel that he is right on the verge of turning all his bad behavior around so that he is once again exactly in the center of that narrow path. Bless him Jesus. Call his name and prepare his heart to accept You as his Savior. Provide J and me with the wisdom to answer his questions and help lead him on his way to You.

Paper That Just Won’t Cooperate

My Sweet G has not been his typical pleasant even tempered, compliant child as of late. He has decided that he has an opinion on things and is growing very comfortable expressing those opinions. Not only has he been doing this at home, but he has been doing it at school also. He has been choosing to passively defy one certain teacher in particular. She is a great teacher and is very passionate about her job. She does not want to frustrate G if he is not capable of doing the work but feels strongly that we need to push him a little harder to see just how much he is capable of accomplishing. G is a very smart little boy. He can hear the first few notes of a song and tell you the artist and title immediately. He has an unbelievable ear for music. He can sing the lyrics to a song after hearing it only once and a lot of times can sing part of the song on the first time. He just recognizes patterns very quickly and can predict the ending of some of the lines of a song before they have been sung. He is truly amazing. Because of some of the talents he displays like this ability to memorize easily his teacher really wants to push him now to see just what will happen.

G's recent discovery of his free will and his new found need and desire for independence has resulted in him pushing the envelope to see just what he can get by with. He has upped the stakes and after completing one math problem begins his new trick of ignoring the teacher. He just sits there as if he has suddenly become deaf as well as being orthopedically impaired, selective hearing to the inth degree. He sits for 5, 10, even 20 minutes at a time. Last week his teacher said the words that makes every elementary school student's heart sink, "Move your stick." This caused an eruption of tears that lasted several minutes. After three trips to check on him to see if he was in control of himself and was ready to work he finally decided he was. Oh, but alas he had waited too long to make the decision and was out of time. He was told that he would have to come back during his activity time to finish. When he returned he finished in two minutes. Come on now G, get with the program and stop being so stubborn.

This morning J had to give me a ride to school because my van decided it wanted to break down 20 feet from the entrance to my school last week. We dropped Sweet G off at his school first since his school is closer to our house. Mrs. B came to the truck to get our precious little boy and I noticed that when he saw it was she who was coming to get him he had dropped his head and refused to look at her. That boy!!

This evening when I finally arrived home from my evening class I asked G how his day went. I asked if he did math with Mrs. B and his reply was something I didn't expect even from him. He said, "I tried Mom, but that paper just wouldn't listen to me. I don't know why it wouldn't cooperate."

I know that underneath all that stubborn uncooperative behavior there is a little boy with a tender, loving, sweet spirit. Oh, how I can sympathize with him. Sometimes it is just so easy to do the wrong thing and so difficult to do the things we know are right. So, just as my Heavenly Father never gives up on me, I will continue to believe in my Sweet G and nudge him in the direction he should go. He is at a tender place right now. He is beginning to ask some deep spiritual questions and I feel that he is right on the verge of turning all his bad behavior around so that he is once again exactly in the center of that narrow path. Bless him Jesus. Call his name and prepare his heart to accept You as his Savior. Provide J and me with the wisdom to answer his questions and help lead him on his way to You.

Kids Say the Darndest Things

Anyone who has ever spent any time whatsoever with a small child knows that they can say the most precious things. Sometimes they use a word in the wrong context, mispronounce words, or just simply say whatever is on their mind. They have not learned that you shouldn't always say what you think, or that every question does not require an answer. These are some of the funny things my children or children I know have said in the past.

Several years ago G's preschool teacher asked, "What do you want to do?" She then named three things he had to choose from. G replied, "I don't want to do nothing." He had to sit in time out for that one.
 G's walker was making noises and he told me, "Momma put some medicine on my walker."

One of his favorite things to say during his game show network phase was, "I can't tell you, ERNK." (The ERNK was his attempt at immitating a buzzer.)

Recently G said, "Ms. C is not my teacher, Mrs. H is my teacher. Ms. C is just my parapro."

G worked on letter identification several times trying to get faster each time. He only had to do it once each night but he kept trying. When he began to work on the lower case letters I just went over them with him without timing. He was so proud he said, "Daddy, I finished them all!" He didn't realize that I had stopped timing him. He was so determined to beat his time.

G has recently been passively defiant with one of his teachers. He has come home daily telling me that she is just not being nice to him. "I am nice to her, I don't know why she isn't nice to me." We were at the Chiropractor last Friday and he was talking to our Dr. about his school woes and he began to tell him about Ms. B and his objections to her determination to make him complete his work in a timely manner. He looked at Dr. P and said, "What is wrong with that woman, don't she realize she is talkin to a man?"

Recently we were studying spring weather and made a lion craft to tie in March's ability to come in like a lion and go out like a lamb. One of my precious babies said, "Look Mrs. Norton, I made my lion embarrassed. He has temples (dimples)."

Kids Say the Darndest Things

Anyone who has ever spent any time whatsoever with a small child knows that they can say the most precious things. Sometimes they use a word in the wrong context, mispronounce words, or just simply say whatever is on their mind. They have not learned that you shouldn't always say what you think, or that every question does not require an answer. These are some of the funny things my children or children I know have said in the past.

Several years ago G's preschool teacher asked, "What do you want to do?" She then named three things he had to choose from. G replied, "I don't want to do nothing." He had to sit in time out for that one.
 G's walker was making noises and he told me, "Momma put some medicine on my walker."

One of his favorite things to say during his game show network phase was, "I can't tell you, ERNK." (The ERNK was his attempt at immitating a buzzer.)

Recently G said, "Ms. C is not my teacher, Mrs. H is my teacher. Ms. C is just my parapro."

G worked on letter identification several times trying to get faster each time. He only had to do it once each night but he kept trying. When he began to work on the lower case letters I just went over them with him without timing. He was so proud he said, "Daddy, I finished them all!" He didn't realize that I had stopped timing him. He was so determined to beat his time.

G has recently been passively defiant with one of his teachers. He has come home daily telling me that she is just not being nice to him. "I am nice to her, I don't know why she isn't nice to me." We were at the Chiropractor last Friday and he was talking to our Dr. about his school woes and he began to tell him about Ms. B and his objections to her determination to make him complete his work in a timely manner. He looked at Dr. P and said, "What is wrong with that woman, don't she realize she is talkin to a man?"

Recently we were studying spring weather and made a lion craft to tie in March's ability to come in like a lion and go out like a lamb. One of my precious babies said, "Look Mrs. Norton, I made my lion embarrassed. He has temples (dimples)."