My Special Boy

After reading the blogs of several mothers of special needs children I felt compelled to express my feelings about being the parent of a special needs child. The most difficult part of being a special needs parent is not my personal losses or sacrifices. The things that I do are no different than the things other parents do. Parents make sacrifices for their children everyday. Some parents sit on cold, hard bleachers watching their child play football. Some sit in the hot sun all summer long at countless baseball games. Countless mothers leave the mall with bags full of things that do not belong to them. Adult feet stop growing. . . children's feet don't. I am sure that those parents don't look at what they do as sacrificial acts. They do those things because they love their children and get enjoyment in providing their child the opportunity to do the things they enjoy.
Parents of special needs children take their children to therapy not because they have to but because they want to give thier child what he or she needs. We build contraptions to make life easier or adapt something that doesn't suit the needs of our family. We create elaborate Halloween Costumes for wheelchairs because we want our child to feel special and experience fun things.

Now I am not saying that being the parent of a special needs child is not challenging, but isn't being the parent of a "normal" typically developing child difficult at times? We simply face different challenges.

I must admit that there are times when I encounter the exasperated parent chasing their child through the doctor's office and have a tinge of jealousy. It is heartbreaking when they turn to their child and say, "why can't you sit nicely like that little boy?" Oh, if you only knew. Don't misunderstand, I don't experience regrets for the losses I face. I grieve over the struggles my child must face for the rest of his life. However, these experiences are outnumbered greatly by the many joys of parenting a special needs child. Most of the time I am overcome by the blessing God granted me when he chose me to be G's mother. I find myself asking, "Why me, Lord? What did I do to deserve such a wonderful child? How could You trust me with such an awsome responsibility?"

Through this entire journey I have experienced a peace that passes all understanding. Yes, I have shed more than my share of tears when I am faced with yet another difficult decision that I feel unequiped to make. I have had to exchange my hopes and dreams for different ones. I have met many wonderful people and have been blessed to meet many special children.

My son is loved by many people and I take great comfort in knowing that. God has taken what the world sees as bad and has used it for good just as He promised in His Word. He graciously presently me with a gift I didn't know I wanted and changed me forever. I know that parents are supposed to teach their children, but G teaches me much more than I could ever teach him. That is what being a special needs parent means to me.

My Special Boy

After reading the blogs of several mothers of special needs children I felt compelled to express my feelings about being the parent of a special needs child. The most difficult part of being a special needs parent is not my personal losses or sacrifices. The things that I do are no different than the things other parents do. Parents make sacrifices for their children everyday. Some parents sit on cold, hard bleachers watching their child play football. Some sit in the hot sun all summer long at countless baseball games. Countless mothers leave the mall with bags full of things that do not belong to them. Adult feet stop growing. . . children's feet don't. I am sure that those parents don't look at what they do as sacrificial acts. They do those things because they love their children and get enjoyment in providing their child the opportunity to do the things they enjoy.
Parents of special needs children take their children to therapy not because they have to but because they want to give thier child what he or she needs. We build contraptions to make life easier or adapt something that doesn't suit the needs of our family. We create elaborate Halloween Costumes for wheelchairs because we want our child to feel special and experience fun things.

Now I am not saying that being the parent of a special needs child is not challenging, but isn't being the parent of a "normal" typically developing child difficult at times? We simply face different challenges.

I must admit that there are times when I encounter the exasperated parent chasing their child through the doctor's office and have a tinge of jealousy. It is heartbreaking when they turn to their child and say, "why can't you sit nicely like that little boy?" Oh, if you only knew. Don't misunderstand, I don't experience regrets for the losses I face. I grieve over the struggles my child must face for the rest of his life. However, these experiences are outnumbered greatly by the many joys of parenting a special needs child. Most of the time I am overcome by the blessing God granted me when he chose me to be G's mother. I find myself asking, "Why me, Lord? What did I do to deserve such a wonderful child? How could You trust me with such an awsome responsibility?"

Through this entire journey I have experienced a peace that passes all understanding. Yes, I have shed more than my share of tears when I am faced with yet another difficult decision that I feel unequiped to make. I have had to exchange my hopes and dreams for different ones. I have met many wonderful people and have been blessed to meet many special children.

My son is loved by many people and I take great comfort in knowing that. God has taken what the world sees as bad and has used it for good just as He promised in His Word. He graciously presently me with a gift I didn't know I wanted and changed me forever. I know that parents are supposed to teach their children, but G teaches me much more than I could ever teach him. That is what being a special needs parent means to me.

Voices From the Past

I am a 10 year old little girl.
I have just gotten into bed for the night.
I hear the call of my sister from across the hall as she says, "Night Mama."
Mama's answer to her is followed by my brother as he calls out from his room.
Back and forth we each say our good-night wishes to each other.

Quiet falls over the house. It is then that it happens.
Someone, not always the same one, calls out, "Goodnight, John Boy."
A refrain of Goodnight Irene follows, this time coming from another room.
It didn't happen every night but it happened often.

If I lay very still and quiet in my bed tonight I can faintly make out those voices from the past.
Oh, how I would love to lay safely in that little girl bed one more time and hear the sounds of the house as it settles. Nothing to worry about but the games I would play when tomorrow arrived. Snug and safe in a house with the doors standing wide open as we slept.

The freshly washed sheets I lay on are crisp and smooth. They are filled with the smell of the sunshine and wind that dried them. I watch the shadow of a moth flitter across the ceiling above my bed. Crickets sing a lullaby written especially for me as the whipporwhils join in on the chorus. Everything else is still and quiet. There are no human sounds except the sound of my daddy's snores dancing down the hall to my room.

I wonder if my sons will hold memories like these from their childhood? Have I provided the same safe, warm, loving environment that I experienced as a child? Will their memories bring joy to them as they lay in their beds 30 years from now? Will they long for one more story read to them by a mother who loves them dearly? Will they fondly remember the things that today are merely routine tasks? I pray that God reminds me daily to create a memory for my boys. May I be purposeful in my relationships with those around me and supply my loved ones with precious memories to keep them company for many years to come.

Voices From the Past

I am a 10 year old little girl.
I have just gotten into bed for the night.
I hear the call of my sister from across the hall as she says, "Night Mama."
Mama's answer to her is followed by my brother as he calls out from his room.
Back and forth we each say our good-night wishes to each other.

Quiet falls over the house. It is then that it happens.
Someone, not always the same one, calls out, "Goodnight, John Boy."
A refrain of Goodnight Irene follows, this time coming from another room.
It didn't happen every night but it happened often.

If I lay very still and quiet in my bed tonight I can faintly make out those voices from the past.
Oh, how I would love to lay safely in that little girl bed one more time and hear the sounds of the house as it settles. Nothing to worry about but the games I would play when tomorrow arrived. Snug and safe in a house with the doors standing wide open as we slept.

The freshly washed sheets I lay on are crisp and smooth. They are filled with the smell of the sunshine and wind that dried them. I watch the shadow of a moth flitter across the ceiling above my bed. Crickets sing a lullaby written especially for me as the whipporwhils join in on the chorus. Everything else is still and quiet. There are no human sounds except the sound of my daddy's snores dancing down the hall to my room.

I wonder if my sons will hold memories like these from their childhood? Have I provided the same safe, warm, loving environment that I experienced as a child? Will their memories bring joy to them as they lay in their beds 30 years from now? Will they long for one more story read to them by a mother who loves them dearly? Will they fondly remember the things that today are merely routine tasks? I pray that God reminds me daily to create a memory for my boys. May I be purposeful in my relationships with those around me and supply my loved ones with precious memories to keep them company for many years to come.

Not Me Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

I have never been one to jokingly refer to a bad day as being Monday. This week, however, has been unusually full of little annoying problems and mishaps. So much so that I have wondered how many Mondays in a row I will experience. It all started last Saturday. So here is my not me Monday list for my not Monday Week.

Monday # 1 (Saturday, October 24, 2009) I absolutely did not change the settings on my camera in such a way that it would not work. If I did that I would definitely be able to fix it myself without the help of a friend. So whatever David tells you don't believe that I did anything remotely like that.

Monday # 2 (Sunday, October 25, 2009) Ignore my husband if he tells you that I was the one who totally messed up our home computer network. I would never even consider making adjustments to such an integral tool in my education without knowing what I was doing. My computer time is much too valuable for me to risk going without the internet and my printer for four entire days, not to speak of the amount of money we would have to pay to have an expert come out and fix all the problems that would create. I would estimate that would cost about $112.00. I would never risk all those problems not to mention that I would not be able to scan my son's senior page photos which were due last week.

Monday # 3 (Monday, October 26, 2009) If anyone tells you that I received two phone calls during the middle of my first class I would be very hesitant to believe them. College students should never check their phones during class and I certainly would not. I also would not leave in the middle of class so don't listen if anyone tries to tell you that I did. I would never skip my writing class and be happy about it; especially if it meant my son had to be picked up from school because he was running a temperature.

Monday # 4 (Tuesday, October 27, 2009) If anyone tells you they saw me at the Breast Center on this day I most certainly was not. I did not submit myself to a more in depth mammogram than necessary. A typical mammogram is uncomfortable enough, and it could not be true that I had to be tortured to an entirely new level. My husband did not have to stay home with our sick son and wait for the computer repair person to come and fix the network that I did not destroy and he most certainly did not have to pay over 100 dollars to have the network fixed.

Monday # 5 (Wednesday. October 28, 2009) I most certainly did not go to work in my pajamas, nor show up for class dressed in the same Snoopy p j s, and if anyone tells you they saw me going into Infinity Children's Services dressed that way they should be ashamed to repeat such a thing.

Monday # 6 (Thursday, October 29, 2009) The doctor could not possibly tell us that our son should stay home from school today. I mean come on, my husband needs to work and I need to teach a lesson today. We would not have time for this kind of inconvenience.

Monday # 7 (Friday, October 30, 2009) Please don't tell me that I ended up sleeping on a twin size Ikea bed with a mattress that feels like you are laying on a towel on top of a wooden platform alongside one sick little boy who coughed most of the night. If he tells you I stole the covers at one point in the night he must have been dreaming because I know I had to be awake the entire time. Surely I did not spend the day at home when I so needed to go to Practicum today. If I did stay at home I would have finished all my schoolwork since my network is now working. . . or was working. This could not be happening. My internet could not possibly be going in and out. I could not hear the heating unit making a weird sound. The lights cannot be dim. I must be in a terrible dream. My life could never be filled with such crazy things like this. Surely I am imagining the Georgia Power Crew setting up a transformer outside my bedroom window. I know I did not hear them say they will be back in a couple of weeks to dig up my yard, the street, and my neighbor's yard before my power will be permanently repaired.

I know this all has to be happening to someone else. I just don't have time for all this confusion. I know, I know, I know that my Savior loves me. I know this because in the midst of all these things I have peace. It is unexplainable, amazing, sweet peace. Now I am not saying that I have not had to go to bed a couple of times this week to cope. I did that several times but after a short rest to let me catch my breath and refocus I exited the bedroom with a calmness that does not come from my flesh. Thank you, Lord for your continual transformation. I praise you for each and every problem that I have experienced this week. You have blessed me abundantly this week so starting tomorrow if you need to, you can share some of my blessings with someone else. I promise I won't mind and please don't let tomorrow be Monday again.