The Family is of God

Church is something of a challenge for my little family right now.

Corbin is one and well, one year olds hate church.  It's a given.  Gregg spends 2/3 of church out in the hallway and the other 1/3 we play lion tamer by pulling out all of the tricks.  Last sunday we gave him a squeezy food to which he went a little haywire and flung it out of his mouth while squishing the packet.  As a result, food splattered as far as two rows up and got all over the man in front of us.  We're a classy family like that.

Emme on the other hand, has decided she can and will go wherever she wants to during church.  Primary is more of a suggestion.  An obstacle if you will.  She can be found fleeing the scene about a dozen times throughout the duration.  I'm a teacher in Primary for another class and that doesn't help. She's about a 1000 times worse when her parents are around.

We've been trying to incorporate Family Home Evening into our week and we all usually end up in a frustrated ball of contention.  Not really what FHE is all about.  Emme will simply not have it.  I've been trying to prepare her for her Primary program by playing the songs they've been learning, but once again, she will not have it.  After the first two lines, she's moved on.

A few weeks ago, we practiced for the program during church.  All of the kids struggled and had a hard time sitting for that long, but Emme took the cake.  If she wasn't laying in front of the group flailing around she was escaping out the door and running her little heart out.  Time number four after I had ran out to grab her, the president took over.  I then had to watch while she kicked and hit the poor women while trying to get to the door knob.  My eyes started to water while we practiced "The Family is of God."  Emme was out of control screaming in front of everyone as we came to the chorus,  "God gave us families, to help us become what He wants us to be---This is how He shares His love, for the family is of God."

I had many thoughts cross my mind at that moment, but the one at the forefront was, "who AM I becoming?"  That day it was a little embarrassed and lot stressed out.

I had NO idea how the actual program would go.  I knew of one song out of sixish that she had memorized.  During one of Emme's joy runs the president and Gregg discussed what would be best.  They questioned even having her sit on the stand at all.  It was a valid suggestion.  Who knew what she was capable or incapable of?  I sure didn't.

The time came for the Primary to overtake Sacrament meeting.  The president sat next to Emme and had a row of chairs blocking any escape.  She's a genius, by the way.  Well, wouldn't you know?  Emme was born to perform.  After hearing her speaking part a couple times she had it memorized and belted it into the microphone.  Every. Single. Song. Was sung with gusto...and by gusto I mean GUSTO.  She had every word memorized.  Gregg and his mom who had come to watch got multiple thumbs up and waves.  Even a few, "HI DAD! HI GRAMMY!"

Our daughter, the incapable/the capable rocked the Primary Program.  We came to The Family is of God and every eye was on Emme and her bright belting take on it.  I soon saw tears flowing throughout the crowd and the president and I were not an exception.  There were a handful of people who know Emme well and knew they were witnessing a miracle unfold.  It was a tear jerker.

This time my heart burst with pride and I felt the confirmation of the words, "God gave us families, to help us become what He wants us to be---This is how He shares his love, for the family is of God."

Thank You Notes

Thank you daylight savings for changing my children's wake up time from an already unbearable 6:30 AM to an impossible 5:30 AM.  Sure, in reality it's the same time, but yet it feels so wrong.

Thank you dishwasher motor for burning out and filling our home with smoke and a nice electrical fire smell.  The timing was perfect as we were already buying a washer and dryer.  I love killing two birds with one stone...or two bank accounts with three faulty appliances.

Thank you Lacey for hand washing all of the dishes tonight unknowingly flooding the basement due to the dishwasher being unhooked.  You're an idiot.

Thank you Dirty Diet Coke for being my happy place right now.  You complete me.

Booger Drool

In order to get Emme to sleep at night we lowered her ADHD meds. Less meds = more chaos.  More chaos = more sleep = a lose/win situation.  You follow? 

We are all getting more sleep around here yet ironically the days are harder. Which brings me to the point of this post which is: less meds = sensory disorder maheim. I realize the transition there has a lot to be desired.  Hang in there friends. 

Emme's biggest sensory issue has to do with her mouth. She has very low muscle tone, therefore she still drools and wants to taste anything and everything (except anything that's actually edible.)

Case and point::

>>She shut down a kiddie ride at Lagoon this summer due to licking the pretend laser gun when the ride suddenly stopped and she cut her lip open from the jolt.  Apparently blood is a big deal. The fourteen year old in charge suddenly became very official remembering all the steps to take in such an occurance.  She locked us in the gate, buzzed the sixteen year old supervisor, and called security.  After, signing my soul away, we were free to go. 

>>She pretty licked much every ride and punched a kid or two. Oh, and also shut down Puff the Magic Dragon by throwing her shoe under the ride while waiting in line. Supervisor number two... Check.  But this is a story for another time. 

>>I've caught her licking the outside of the car lately. 

>>No salt shaker is left untasted. 

>>She ate a birthday candle. Yes, that's right folks. She ATE a candle.  Gregg was in the car with Corbin waiting for me to use the bathroom and bring Emme out. In the short amount of time it took for me to care of business, Emme decided blue wax was her thang.  I came out to a gagging child gasping for air.  She threw up on the way to the bathroom and then slipped in the puke covering herself.  She then kindly pointed out the blue pieces of candle in her exited food and admitted to what she had done.  We were a bit later than normal to church that week. 

>>Coins are for sucking. 

>>She's a biter. 

>>And then there's this conversation::

"Mom, I'm eating my booger drool!"

"Oh, honey, that's yucky. Please don't do that."  

"It's really good mom!  You should try some!"

As gross as it was, I have to say I was proud of her for coming up with the term, "booger drool."  

Rocking the IEP

Emme starts preschool tomorrow through our school district.  Hallelujah friends!

We've been working on this since May so it's kind of a big deal.  If I've learned anything about getting help for your special needs child, it would be that everything takes time.

If you read this post you remember how frustrated I was.  Well, let me just back track a bit.

Remember how I said I was going to call the school district every day until I got answers?  I did that for a few days until I remembered I had one of the evaluator's cell numbers from when she called in early July.  I became one of "those moms" that went a little too far.  As I like to say though, "too far yet effective."

Wouldn't ya know...I got a phone call back that same day.  Booyah.  Pretty much it was just to tell me they would make sure we were called back soon with an appointment for an evaluation.  About a week later we were called and able to schedule an appt for a month out.

Here's where the miracles started.  I was really nervous Emme wouldn't get qualified, because we had already gone through this process and she was denied.  In fact she was a perfect angel the first time.  We felt like fools and were looked at like it was more of bad parenting than anything.  Now we had a years worth of paperwork from her therapeutic school, a psychiatrist eval, and a therapist eval.  Even her pediatrician stood behind us this time.  All of these busy women took time to write a page full of what they had witnessed and reasons why Emme would benefit from having an IEP (individual education plan).  I didn't even ask her psychiatrist to write anything, but she had a paper waiting for me when I dropped Emme off for therapeutic school.  If you only knew how busy this lady is, you would be shocked.

After gathering together what felt like enough paperwork to buy a house, we were ready for the evaluation.  Emme started out excited that five adults were so interested in her.  They had a bunch of toys that she stayed occupied with for the first half hour.  Once again, she was acting like a perfect normal child which I assure you, never happens in public places or well...anywhere.  Then came time to take her to the bathroom and she didn't want to go.  That's when the running, biting, and screaming started.  I just kept thinking "praise the Lord!"

After two and a half hours they finally encircled me on their tiny kid chairs and all agreed Emme would benefit from having an IEP.  I could ran out the doors with my arms open wide singing The Hills Are Alive!!  (For the record I'm not thrilled over my child having disabilities, but she does... so I'm thrilled that she is receiving help.)

All of this is a huge answer to my prayers.  Our daily struggles have hit an all time high (hence the lack of blogging) and we all needed this.  I don't always like the trials I am given and they may last far longer than I think I'm capable of, but every now and again I am given miracles throughout the hardship to let me know that He is aware.

 

It's my pity party and I'll cry if I want to

I didn't cry when I came out of the bathroom and found Corbin's formula dumped on the counter. 

I didn't cry when minutes later Emme squeezed and shook her blue Tummy Yummy into the carpet in her room. She even smooshed it in real good with her feet and did a demonstration of her naughty actions. 

I didn't cry when she emptied her sock drawer and hung every single one up on a hanger.  That was actually pretty funny and made it easy to find matching socks this morning. 

I didn't cry after finding spilled milk from a sippy cup hidden under a blanket and once again smooshed into the carpet. 

I didn't cry after I noticed writing on Corbin's toy blocks. 

I didn't cry when I had to drag two screaming kids to the car in front of all of Wheeler Farm after Emme punched Corbin in the face and I told her she couldn't have a cookie anymore. 

I didn't show that my feelings were hurt after hearing an almost four year old call me stupid over and over and over and then wishing death upon me from a snow monster.  

I didn't cry when a laundry basket was thrown at me. 

 

I didn't even cry after both of my children refused to nap. 

So what made me have a mini breakdown today....?

When I noticed this same child writing with a pen all over my ottoman and then saw she stabbed holes in it for good measure. 

Apparently... ruining furniture is my breaking point...to which I will sob and sob while said child is locked in her room and her brother jabbers behind me. 

Aftershocks like spraying hairspray all over the walls and smearing lotion into the carpet may make me fight back tears, but I refuse to cry. Especially, when I get comments like, "show me how I made you cry, mom."

I think it's safe to say I'm having issues now that Corbin is all over the place and I can't keep my eyes on Emme at all times.  

Please send Diet Coke. 

The Walmart Diaries

Today was the day. 

The day I HAD to take both kids by myself to Walmart.  Cue tragic music. 

When you have a special needs child there are certain things you should avoid at all costs. For Emme that would be taking her to the grocery store or any store for that matter.  

If both Gregg and I are there, it is possible, yet still very difficult. But today...he was not. 

I had one goal which was to get baby food.  Do I need to get groceries big time? Yes, but to avoid a trip down the crazy town aisle our mission included only the most necessary items. 

Now before you lecture me on not making my own baby food, let me remind you that I don't even have time to BUY baby food let alone make it. Let's not get cray here. 

Overall, Walmart was a success.  Emme only screamed bloody murder once because I too quickly sailed past the treats in the middle of the cement road to which she jumped off the cart and hit her head on a shelf.  Corbin only cried once from being squished by his sister.  All in all, not too shabby.  With an unplanned bag of marshmallows we made it to the checkout line in record time. 

They had one lane open (ugh walmart) to which me and another older gentlemen came to at the same time.  There were two people already in line, but I let him go ahead because he only had a few items. Mistake mistake mistake.  The one checker was a new worker and the man in front of me priced matched every. single. item. The lady had no idea what she was doing and we had to wait for a supervisor to come over to fix her mistakes. 

Now, for heaven's sakes. If you come to a checkout lane at the same time as someone with children and one is squishing and hitting the other, please let them go ahead of you.  

With Emme about to blow a lid, the time came that we finally felt the warm breeze on our cheeks again and we were free.  Just as I was about to get in the driver's seat, the same older gentlemen stopped me to ask if I price checked.  I quickly threw my head back, cackled and then I replied, "I have NO time to look through all of that!"  I mean how dare he, am I right?  

Apparently, he just wanted to warn me that the cashier had charged him way more than she was suppose to and I should check my receipt.  Oh.  Sorry dude.  

I may or may not be a little sensitive when it comes to the more domestic parts of life. At this moment in time I am a failure at all things homemaking.  I look foward to a day where I can make cute crafts and plan meals well in advance or save our family money by couponing.  

I think for now though, I will focus on things like keeping Corbin safe from Emme and getting through a Walmart check out line with my sanity still in tact. 

Three Thrings

1.  Having a husband in grad school is lame.  I am not handling the new school year well.  It may be the death of me.  Say a pray for me, please?

2.  Emme is in the stage of revertigo. Meaning she has reverted back to her old ways. We have lost ground big time. We lowered her meds which helps her sleep now, but the days are long and sometimes torturous.  Scratching and biting are a staple the last few weeks.  My arms look like I have a cat. A mean hateful cat that would rather shred apart the house than have anything to do with order.  Revertigo Emme may be the death of me. Please say a pray for me. 

3.  My face is a battlefield of acne. Summer has not been good to my skin. I can't figure out if it's the change in my diet, the sunburns, or the world being against me, but I'm thirty here people. It needs to stop.  I have one smack dab in the middle of my forehead right now that is so big I think it's actually four squished together.  Other honorable mentions are the many smaller yet still huge zits surrounding it.  I'm ready to climb to my tower and start ringing the bell for the local village. Goitre face Lacey may be the death of me. Please say a prayer.