Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Motor Speech Delayed... What?!? He is beautiful.

It feels like a decade since I wrote last. My days are very full right now. My day care business has grown wings and has taken flight. I serve up to twelve kids in a month's time. (Never at the same time.) My alarm goes off at 5:25am and I return to my bed around 10pm most days. The business has allowed me to be the stay-at-home mama I've wanted to be for the most part. I get to put my boy on the bus every morning and get him off in the afternoon. I can set my schedule and not miss my favorite boy's growing up.

My little buddy is still going to the preschool for his motor-speech delays. We recently added occupational and physical therapy to the speech therapy he was already receiving through his school. I started pushing for some one-to-one speech therapy. We found a therapist. They sent me paperwork to fill out before his assessment. It asked about when my boy made his milestones. I had to go to his baby book. With all the knowledge I've gained, I could see his delays as early as 24 weeks old in the words I had written. We recently were approved for insurance-paid private speech class (as we call it.) This has been a huge blessing in every way possible. It's providing me with some up-to-date tools for at home. 

I had a giggle moment today with my friend, a former speech therapist. She asked me how my son was doing with all his therapies. I told her, "The wheels on the bus go round and round round and round. ALL. DAY. LONG." She laughed and said to me, "This is what you asked for..." She was so right. I did. I've prayed for these words, this music, and these giggles since we were told about the delays! I am so thankful for the wheels on the bus... 

It wasn't to long ago I was telling my friend a different story.  When he was diagnosed with motor-speech delays, I changed how we did everything from how we dressed him in the morning to our daily activities to our bed time routine. I didn't think about it or process this diagnosis. I didn't think about what it would mean for our family. I just put in the time. I knew what had to be done.
His challenges were once mine. I did what I was taught to do. I did it all on auto-pilot. I knew I didn't want him to have the same experiences throughout his years in school like I did. I spent my entire education playing catch-up and/or having melt downs over doing homework. (I probably drove my semi-patient mother crazy.) I am determined for my son's experience to be less frustrating, if I can.
Sometimes this healing progress do is exhausting. It caught up to me recently. I will continue to do it all for me/him because he is worth it. It's been 2.5 years of therapy, meeting strangers in my home, starting/running a daycare for my boy to be around other little kids who talk, run, jump with out a second thought, and putting him in a therapy-rich daycare four mornings a week. None of these things were in the cards I had envisioned for him.
I saw a kid half my boy's age talking in clear sentences today and I felt jealous over those words. Those very understandable syllables strung together so simply for that boy. My son he is exactly who he needs to be in this moment. These challenges we face right now will not be for nothing!

Saturday, February 8, 2014

Insert a clever title here.

Wow. I haven't blogged since my son's birthday last May! That is slightly deplorable and yet I feel no guilt over this. Waking up and showing up for the daily stuff has taken priority over this little piece of writing.

What's more important than writing?  Lol I was working for a local grocery store and working with the state to get a home day care license.  Well as of July 1, 2013, I became a state licensed day care provider. I have been attempting to get it off the ground. I quit my grocery store job once I got a couple families signed.

We discovered my boy had/had a speech delay that was beginning to effect his motor skills last March.  We started him working with a speech teach twice a week until school ended.  My son started preschool with other kids with similar challenges in September.  He loves it and has grown exponentially. We are so proud of his words. I wish I could strap a camera to him during his awake hours, so I could capture every precious syllable.

Andy has been working a lot. He has been trying to get his HVAC license and a promotion to system controls with his current employer. I am pretty proud of him.

We are still attending the Assembly of God church (weather permitting). I don't have much to say about this topic. Lol

Okay that's blog enough for now. No promises when the next will be.

Saturday, May 4, 2013

Party time!

Dylan turns three today! Happy BIRTHDAY!


Here's to my five minute Friday early Saturday morning.
Bravery. Such a odd word. Bravery, the art of being brave, means different things. It means waking every day knowing I will suppress depression. Hope differed makes the heart sick. Bravery is putting my quietly rarely defiant child in time out again for kicking me. Its keeping a straight face while I do it. Bravery is kissing my spouse before, during, and after an argument. It is remembering this moment in which I sit will never return to me. It is the choice I make to brave church without family's support. It is allowing my child to learn to trust God when I don't know if I can...

Monday, April 1, 2013

It strikes me funny!

Today is Easter at least for a couple more minutes. People go to church on Easter and Christmas. We hear teachings on how God is good and the Bible is prophetic. We hear about how the Scriptures are holy. We hear how every word in the Bible is inspired by God. We hear about the primary characters like Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. On Christmas, we hear about the birth of Jesus. During Holy Week, we hear about the path Jesus walked while in Jerusalem's Passover. We listen to songs and see plays about the last supper, the prayers prayed in the garden, his arrest, his walk to be crucified, his death, his burial, and his resurrection.
This bugs me a bit. People fail to see the characters behind the stories told in the Bible. Take for example Isaac's mother/Abraham's wife . They don't tell you about the conversation Abraham had with his wife before to trying to sacrifice their son in service of the Lord. Can you imagine that conversation?
"Oh by the way, Hunny, God told me I had to to sacrifice your son in service of Him. I don't really want to do it, but I think God wants me to do. We leave tomorrow. "
Well some people say, God shows His grace in the Old Testament and in the New Testament. I'm sure it's there. I find it disturbing the stories don't talk about the unsung heroes. For those individuals supporting the men of God, what was their life like? For people who weren't described in the Bible, their stories are the ones I'm more interested in.
As a mom, I can't imagine the pain I'd feel seeing my son crucified on the cross. I can't imagine seeing my son bleed and be beaten in the way Jesus was. It seems excruciating cruel to these characters in the Bible to not find their stories it's pages. Their devotion is what I see in the white spaces on the page.
It's these people I would befriend on Facebook. I want to know what they ate. I want to see their pictures. I want to know if their camel cart broke down. Or if they're having a bad day, I want to know about that. What with their status be at lunch time, dinner time, and before bed? It's the people you don't see, I want to know about. I want to know if their best friend's brother's sister, has cancer or leprosy or cold. I want to know if Tamar got a puppy who keeps peeing on everything and scratching up the furniture. I want to know if I should pray for them. And I wanna see a picture of their latest art project. I want to see pictures of their new dress robe, new sandals, and their 3 month old baby boy.
I appreciate how God keeps his word. I don't understand why God had to destroy the entire nations for the sake of keeping one man's promise? Its so troubling to me do not hear about or see in the Bible the pain of the people who were destroyed. They had lives. They had family. They had work. They had to eat, sleep, and feed their families. It seems kind of calloused not share their stories is well. I understand the Bible would be so much longer if they actually told stories of every single person from every single angle. Yet it leaves a lot to be desired in my mind for the individuals you don't hear about. Where are they in the story? Where are their stories?
The Bible inspires me. Its challenges me. It terrifies me. It teaches me to be better. The Bible makes me want to be my best me. While I am glad, God shows his character through the stories told in the Bible. I feel like I'm missing out on the wives, sisters, friends, and family ties in the tales told in the pages of the Bible. I could go back in time and be a fly on the wall, I listen to their conversations. I'd hear the challenges, the pain, the joy, the silly things, and what they're having for dinner. I'd hear about Passover. And hear about that stinking soldier who stepped into poo. Or the shop owner who charged a little bit more than he should have. I love to hear about the humanity of it all. The Bible is held as so serious and sacred to many. I miss the humanity. Show me love, the joy, the pain, and the dash in between the years on a tombstone for the supporters of the men of God and the leading ladies . That's the kind of life I would love to see in the Bible.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Forgive my candid, yet sensitive topic tonight.

I've had several people ask me recently about my beliefs on being gay. I usually don't talk about this topic as a rule, but tonight I can't seem to stop thinking about it. I realize this topic is quite sensitive for many people with the semi-current debates over marriage rights and civil liberties.

Here is how I feel. While I practice traditionalism, I understand how people gravitate to what makes them comfortable. Comfort starts with attraction. Everyone is wired differently. No two humans are created exactly alike. Our fingerprints, our, retinas  and DNA are different from every other person. One thing is universal, we all want to be loved in our own way.

Enter religion. Religion states homosexuality is sinful at the same time declaring comfort, love, and attraction are from God. Belief seems to make sane people stupid when homosexuality is added to the picture. They seem to forget the human behind the lifestyle. Many "Christians" seem to forget that the Almighty Himself is love's essence. They forget about the grace they have been given. It's forgotten Heaven is equal opportunity. The bible urges for "whosoever will to come." People we are NOT the maker of heaven and earth here. We don't have the final say over who gets to party beyond the pearly gates. My life and yours are on display. We all answer to how we live our lives. Are we kind to one another? Do we love as we have been loved by the Alpha and Omega? Do we honor our father(s) and mother(s)? Do we care for the orphans and widows? Are we are best self in times when it was the hardest to do so? Do we respect our elders? Do we get road rage with a "Jesus loves me" or your favorite Christian music station sticker on our back window? Do you follow the laws of the land when nobody is watching?

When you are hurting and vulnerable, you don't really care whose hand helps you up. Some of the times in my life when I need love the most, the hands that were being Jesus-with-skin-on belonged to homosexuals or wiccans or agnostics or atheists. They scooped me up and spoke life in my dark places. God can use the most unlikely individuals and/or situations to be your salt and light. What's my point? I don't care if you are homosexual, transgender or a traditionalist. I am not your judge. I don't care what you do behind closed doors, as long as you are hurting someone else (that would include yourself).I care how you treat those around you. I have just as much of an opportunity to walk on streets of gold as the human on the other side of the room. It doesn't matter what my comfort level is with how you live your life. If you respect me, I'll respect you. Period. End of story. See you in Heaven (if you so choose).

Sunday, February 24, 2013

This is funny!

Smiles are jewelry!  Here are a few things that make me chuckle. Props to whomever was clever...
Something that makes me smile without fail. Watch "Pixar Mouse-- I Believe In Miracles" on YouTube

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Don't feel clever right now.

I haven't written in some time. Don't shoot me. We finally moved into our new house a week before Christmas. The place is nice. We are settled and attempting to agree on decor. My spouse enjoys neutrals- browns, tans, grays, and whites. I enjoy bold and classy colors- yellows, teals, greens, blues. He wants things to match. I like accent walls. He likes leather and/or fluffy. I like clean lines, modern, in like microfiber. He doesn't care about woods matching. I like darker stains in wood. The one thing we agree on is no loose pillows to lean against on our furniture. Right now the walls are white. We shall see how long I last staring at them...

I am in the process of becoming a licensed daycare provider from this home of ours. The process is super intense. There are doctors, radon specialists, CPR/first aid/bloodbourne pathogen classes, safety inspectors and fees for this/that. I have to come up with emergency escape plans, meal plans, and activity plans. I need proper nap spaces. Those are just a few of the steps. Once I am approved, I'll need to find kids...

I am looking forward to getting away for a long weekend in Vegas at the beginning of March. My mental health could use it. Turning over a new leaf has been catching up with me. I am attempting to trust in places I doubt. I find the Scriptures disturbing with all the talk about murder, homicides and favoring of some people, or groups of people, over others. I am angry because I don't want to believe in the creator anymore, but I find comfort in some of the promises. The people who tell me to just pray about it and let God lead me are so seemingly sure about walking in/with faith. I am just trying to find what my new me looks like, while I am walking backwards upside down on shifting sand. I am attempting to be level headed and faithful for my son that is watching me. Ugh. So. Exhausting.

Had Dylan checked the other day for speech delays. We had suspected a slight delay because we can't understand him when he strings words together. They confirmed our suspicions. I was disappointed. I love the kid with my all. He'll be 3 in May. I grew up going to school in all the classes with ADHD kids, so I could receive extra tutoring for my own learning challenges. I had hoped Dylan wouldn't have to face that. My son has tons of untapped potential still but is flawed. I don't love him any less for it. They are going to start working with him now to get him ready for school. I am seriously hoping this will be enough, so when school arrives he doesn't have to be put in similar classes like mine.