Turning the Pages...

Tests.

That's what the doctor ordered.

Test her nerves, test her muscles, test her enzymes.

The first test we wanted to get completed was the one that required drawing blood.  We went to the lab; Lindsay waited for an hour only to be told that they did not have the "special tubing" required to perform one of the tests.

Homeward bound and telephone bound.

We coordinated with various labs and finally a supervisor ordered the tubing and had it delivered to the closest lab to us.  Blood has been drawn from Ella as well as her tears drawn.  

Results about enzymes and muscles forthcoming within 48 hours.

We scheduled the nerve velocity test at our local hospital.  They seemed hard-pressed to find a doctor who would perform the test on a child so young.  They found one.  We're not feeling so comfortable that this hospital hasn't performed this test on children Ella's age.  The test is scheduled but we will be talking with our pediatrician and her office to locate a hospital that has more experience in this area.  The wheels roll on. 

All of this organizing and advocating, which is unbeknownst to our three children, has been part of the role that Lindsay and I have been given...we accept.

The role Ella plays in her world is that of a happy go-lucky one-year old with limitations of movement thrust upon her.  She is finding what she enjoys, albeit not accomplished in the traditional ways, but enjoyed nonetheless.  She plays ball, she plays in boxes, she tears up paper, she makes funny faces.  She lets us know when she's uncomfortable or wants to snuggle...she kisses us and nuzzles.  She plays with our dog, Sasa.  Her teeth are coming in and that beautiful blonde hair is making its debut!

Ava is developing her relationship with her sister in a way that is endearing to witness.  She strokes her head, calls her "Sweetie", and gives her toys to play with.  She watches out for her and gives her hugs; ever so gentle hugs.  She reads with her and helps me when I bathe her.  She prays for her.

 

Henry forges his way forward.  He is younger than Ava by one-and-a-half years and the edler of Ella by about the same amount (just a few months more).  His understanding of what is happening around him is admirable.  More admirable is his reaction to it.  As any two-and-half year old does, he struggles with his emotions; his wants and needs, his ego-centricity and the realization that there's a world around him.  He continues to struggle with power, autonomy and independence.  He does not, however, struggle when it comes to defining his role as Ella's big brother.  He certainly has his moments when he gives her a hard time (as expected) yet he also watches out for her.  

He lets me and/or Lindsay know when Ella is doing something that may be harmful to herself, or if she has toppled over from her sitting position (at least the times that she isn't pushed over by someone in order to get a toy from her!).  

He has done something else that I admire...he has started to develop a great sense of humor.  He loves to make Ella (and everybody else) laugh.  She loves to laugh, too! 

 

Between the five of us, we have our roles...as any family does.  We will learn from one another...as any family does.  Switch roles when necessary...as any family does.  We'll look out for each other...as any family does.   

We will...as Ella opens up the book of her life...turn the pages with her.

 

One and Done...

A man is walking down the street in the middle of summer.  It is a city street with several apartment buildings on top of store fronts.  

It is a quiet day and the only child he sees is a little girl jumping rope on the sidewalk.

The man stops at his bus stop.

A woman opens a windw from one of the apartments several floors up and calls out, "Suzy. Suzy, time for lunch, come inside."

The man looks around and sees the little girl continue to jump rope.  "Must not be Suzy." he thinks to himself.

Again, the woman calls for Suzy.  Again there is no one responding to her.

The man is a bit puzzled at this point.  "Where is Suzy?" he wonders.

The woman calls out a third time.  Nothing.

The man gets up from his bench and approaches the little girl skipping rope.

"Excuse me, young lady" the man says as he interrupts her play, "Do you know who 'Suzy' is?"

The little girl replies without missing a jump, "I'm Suzy!"

Relieved that 'Suzy' wasn't lost the man asks her, "Did you hear your mother calling you in for lunch?"

"Oh" said the girl. "Yes, I heard her. Thank you" and she continued with her jumping rope.

The man inquired further, "Then why are you still jumping rope?  Shouldn't you go inside like your mother called for you to do?"

"Nope" replied the girl in a matter-of-fact way.

Further puzzled and quite intrigued the man asked with a straight face, "Why not?"

The girl stopped jumping, looked to where her mother's voice came from and as she began jumping rope again she replied, with a smirk on her face, "Because she hasn't yelled yet."

The man left shaking his head.

***********************************************

Kids respond to what we set them up for. 

Lindsay and I have found ourselves repeating ourselves when giving directions or making requests of our children for most of their lives.

It hasn't worked.  Between Ava and Henry we either get ignored until we raise our voices or we get the "yes-no" game.

Ahhh, the "yes-no" game.  Let's play.

This game is where the child is given a task to complete, (going potty, eating something, whatever it may be) and says that they want to do this task.  Then they trun around and say the do not want to do it.  Then the parent gives them a choice and the child chooses.  The child turns around and says they do not want the choice they just made.  The whole game continues until either the parent loses thier cool or the child ends up crying hysterically--or both.  Funny thing about the "yes-no" game--there are no winners.

Last night Lindsay and I decided to instill a 'new rule' called, "One and Done".  

Simple rule, really:  We will make a request or give a direction once.  Then we're done.  

As long as the child hears the request and understands what is involved, we will not repeat it.  End of story. 

If they do not "comply" the natural (and or logical) consequences will ensue. Period.

This is a bit of a tougher game than the "Yes-No" game; but in this game, there are winners.  

In fact, the winning last a lifetime for all.

Let the games begin!!

Road Trip...

Lindsay and I love to take road trips.  There's a certain coziness in the prospect of gathering the supplies needed to live in the car for a day or two.  Snacks (usually things we do not normally have in the house), books, movies, gadgets, not to mention  knowing that we will be "out of town" for even a short while. 

Putting everyday cares aside and replacing them with simple decisions such as where to eat amongst the hundred of choices, when the right time is to put your turn signal on when passing people on the highway, and which silly game to play with the kids as they seemingly grow roots in their car seats make the road trip an oasis from everyday life.

While the road can offer many fun times, it too has its drawbacks.  Sore muscles from sitting for hours,  restless kids, crazy drivers, bridges, waiting for the next rest stop or gas station when it's 47 miles away...

Bridges??

Some people don't like bridges.  I personally do not have a problem with them.  My wife, on the other hand, does not like them.  Not at all.

Whenever we come to a bridge she lets me know she is uncomfortable.  It's reasonable...I mean, you are travelling across a manmade structure over something that could be potentially dangerous. If it were up to her, there wouldn't be any bridges...but she knows.

She knows that the bridge is the only way to the other side.  She knows that she must be strong for her kids, so they don't get upset about the bridge.  She knows that there are others behind her that need to cross the same bridge, maybe in a different car and going to a different destination, but the same bridge nonetheless.

Lindsay and I are facing our Ella bridge.

We know we have to travel over this bridge to get to the other side.  We know that it is the only way to get there.

We know that there are dangers as we cross the bridge, we are privy to that.  Our kids are not.  They trust us.  Ava trusts us, Henry trusts us, Ella trusts us.  Ours is to seek the road ahead of us, ask for help when we need it, and look to God and each other for guidance.  Our children have placed this trust upon us with their loving existence.

We are not the only ones who have or will cross this bridge.  Others have come before us; we learn from them.  Others will come behind us; we blaze a trail for them.  

As we cross this bridge, we each have an idea of what the destination will look like.  We each bring our personal experiences and our personalities to the bridge.  In the end, however, we will discover the destination together & rejoice in it for what it is.

Over the years I have witnessed Lindsay getting better about crossing "real" bridges...she's taught me much.  I know that this bridge, our Ella Bridge, will be travelled with the love and support of so many.

We are fortunate people.

What Would Ella Say?

She waited for over an hour.

She played with books in the waiting room and ate her snack.

She watched another child put a puzzle together.

She smiled at a boy watching a movie.

When in the examination room she watched herself in the mirror.  She laughed at her reflection.

She played "pass the baby" with mommy & daddy.

She tossed her head back in hopes of being tickled on the neck (her hopes became reality).

She drank her water, ate her snack, and waited.

We waited.

The pediatric neurologist entered the room.  It was almost as if I expected him to know everything we had gone through up to this point.  I was ready for some kind of an answer.

He only knew us through paperwork and an MRI he just read moments before.  The MRI of Ella's brain.

Ella greeted him with her look that says, "Whozzhatt?"

The doctor shook our hands and the process began.  We answered questions. Questions we had thought were going to be asked and questions that were unique.  

We spoke for our "Squishy".

We tossed out our thoughts and the doctor received them.  We went back and forth exchanging ideas and information.  Ella chimed in as a one-year-old might, with little noises and inflections.

We were told that the MRI was normal.  Ella's brain was healthy.  I stroked her head when we were told that good news.

We were told in so many words that her inability to walk at this point in her life was not due to a developmental delay.  This was surmised by the simple fact that she had been developing "normally" for the first 5 months of her life.  At that point, however, her physical development stagnated.

With that news, both Lindsay and I drew a blank look.  If this was not a brain thing and it wasn't a developmental delay, then what in the world is going on?

Something I think Ella would have said herself.

The doctor explained many things to us.  In the end it comes down to the process that he was trained in; the scientific process.  In medicine, when diagnosing, one must eliminate all other possibilities to get at what is really happening.  So the process has begun.

Ella's process starts with three tests.  These are designed to pinpoint where, exactly, the problem lies.

Is it with the muscles?

Is it with the nerves?

Is it with the enzymes?

Three tests must be performed.  

A simple blood test can help the doctor identify nerve function.  

A more invasive test called "nerve velocity" can tell the doctor more about the muscle.

A longer test (in terms of getting results) called a metabolic work-up will tell us if there is an enzyme problem (enzymes assist chemical reactions that produce specific outcomes--if the enzyme is "bad" the outcome does not occur, ie: muscle movement).

The doctor examined Ella.  He held her up high with one hand under her belly to test for muscle tone.  Her arms spread and her legs hung.  He had her on her back and rolled her legs around, he squeezed her legs.  He checked her spine, her fontanel, her reflexes.

Her reflexes.  The bottoms of her feet reacted well to the test.  The doctor was, however, hard-pressed to produce a "knee-jerk" reflex.  Three times on each leg he tried, twice with his finger and once with the "hammer".  His brow furrowed a bit at this lack of reflex.  He tucked this info in the back of his mind, a mental note if you will.

So we test and we wait.  

We wait some more to find out what is going on with our "Squishy". 

 

He lifted Ella up and held her in his arms.  They looked at each other.  He smiled and she babbled.

I wonder what Ella would have said?

My Reasons lie Inside...

It's funny what the world can do,

it's strange the turns life throws at you.

I wonder what will happen next,

news comes to me; talk, phone and text.

The reasons why lie deep inside,

they help me on this waiting ride.

I turn to wife, I turn to folk,

I turn to God to shoulder my yoke.

My children are the reason why,

I'll stay alive, I'll never die.

Our first, our second, our third one, too

keeps every day afresh and new.

Inside my soul I find the why,

deep in its core is where they lie.

In God and man we do confide,

My Reasons lie Inside.

My wife and kids, we wait for now

To gain the knowledge, the why the how.

Our third; she takes an onward ride

My Reasons lie Inside.

Whatever comes, whatever may be

We look to one another to see.

From all we're given we cannot hide,

My

Reasons lie

Inside...

to be continued...

Quiet Time...good book; good friend...

There's something about children when they read.  It's the same for when they sing.  I don't mean when they prance around the house singing off-key, I mean when the really sing.  Especially when a group of them sing.  There is a sweet innocence about their voices that captures one's ears and pulls you into the mood of the song.

Children reading has a similar effect.  Watching them put their imaginations into a book, cruising over the pictures and concentrating on the words.  Early readers naturally delight in the endeavor of sounding out words, making meaning from what they see and read.  This is like a magnet, pulling not only you into their reading, but themselves as well.

They play with books.  They play with words.  They play with language.  They play with pictures.  They take the sum of their experiences and put it to use when they read.  They find that magical land of imagination between the front and back cover of their chosen book.

Watching our three children sit and read (which was initiated by themselves) Lindsay and I sat and marveled at the brilliance of the human mind.  The sheer beauty of learning and growing.  

Summer offers many places to visit.  It offers many things to do.  It offers lazy days and fun-filled exciting adventures.  All of which are tremendous teachers, for as we all know, experience is the best teacher. Summers, however, always come to an end.

One thing summer doesn't offer as well as a book can is a trip down a road that can last forever...and no matter how many times you read that book, you can always find a new meaning.

A good book is like a good friend.

Rest Easy...

They rest.

Their days are filled with play, tantrums, good choices, bad choices, politeness, and everything in-between.

They rest now.

It's the wee hours of the morning and I can't sleep.

I usually give myself a bit of time to fall back to slumber and if that doesn't happen I try to occupy myself with something else; computer, phone, book, etc.

Tonight I occupied myself with looking at my children sleep.

Ava; sprawled out on her bed lying the wrong way.  She has basically rotated herself 90 degrees from the "normal" position she started in.  Her hair is a tangled mess and covers practically her whole head.  She rests.  During the day she is quite active.  Especially her imagination.  She creates her imaginary worlds and invites everyone in the house to join her sometime throughout the day.  She colors and creates, finding ways to solve any problems that she deems necessary to solve.  She runs, she climbs, she helps.  

Now she rests, gathering energy for later today to do it all again.

Henry; lying neatly in his bed on his back.  Covers over his legs.  His arms spread out, one hanging off the edge.  His head is slightly turned offering a partial profile as I peek at my sleeping boy.  He is restful.  While awake Henry plays hard.  He has gained command of his world that was just recently out of his control.  Henry likes control.  He likes to change his mind simply because he can.  He likes to stir up a fight to test the waters.  He plays with his toys and is learning how to share more and more each day.  He enjoys pushing his toys around and making them do what he wants them to do.  He loves to laugh and is developing quite the silly side of himself.  He is an emotional person, devoting much energy to tantrums that last for some time, yet is learning how best to deal with them (as are his parents).  

Now he rests, gathering energy for later today to do it all again.

Ella; gingerly lying on her back, one leg bent up and the opposite arm reaching over her head.  She twitches as she sleeps, experiencing a dream that she probably cannot separate from reality yet.  Her days are filled with  funny faces and new tastes.  She has adapted to her desire to move more freely and the constraints nature has placed on her body.  She loves hugging and kissing, playing with her siblings and parents.  She adores our dog, Sasa, and explores the world of language.  She works hard to get what and where she wants.  She has already fulfilled the old adage that 'the youngest one of the family acts as the loving glue that binds'.

Now she rests, gathering energy for later today to do it all again.

If you have children and can't sleep because you worry about them, or are worrying about anything in life, go and peek at them.  Let their essence fill your heart and know that as they rest, they are processing all that has happened to them from the hours before.  Fall in love with your children all over again.

If you don't have children and you cannot sleep, imagine yourself as a child...find that carefree part of yourself that allowed you explore the world that was new to you.  Allow yourself to fall in love with your own childhood.

I am going back to bed now.  Goodnight.

Mama Bracelets: Growing with Autism...

Mama Bracelets: Growing with Autism...: "Many times when we think about autism, we think of children. These children, however, grow to become adults. Their autism stays with them..."

There's Three of Them...

This week is marked by anticipation.

We wait.

We wait to take Ella to have her MRI on Thursday morning and then from there we wait until the next afternoon to meet with the Pediatric Neurologist.

We know there is something not quite right.  Whether it is "developmental delay" or something much more serious, we know that the road ahead for her and us will be hard work.

Lindsay and I have naturally found a soft spot for our third child, our second daughter.  Knowing there is something going on with her and yet not knowing exactly what that "something" is, we tend to cling to her...

The other night, after a few days of the kids going in all kinds of crazy directions and making us equally crazy, Lindsay and I sat and talked after they had fallen asleep.

Among other things in our lives, we talked about Ella.

The conversation, however, took a turn away from Ella directly.  We began talking about how all of this affects Ava & Henry...and not in terms of the outcome of the appointments late this week, but in terms of the here and now.

We realized that as young as they are, they too can, and probably do, notice our "soft spot" for Ella.  We talked more about this and realized that we cannot simply explain to them the situation at hand.  We cannot expect them to understand what is really going on.  They operate in the here and now and they operate as egocentric beings.

We reflected on our behaviors toward each of our children and found that the craziness of the past few days may be a direct result of our behaviors.  We reviewed how and what we say, what we do, and how we react to the many daily occurrences for each child.  

Our conversation led us to realize that we need take the "soft spot" we have developed for our Ella and spread it to our Henry and our Ava.  They need it as much as she does.

We did that the very next day.

The transformation was astounding.  I could see it in Ava's eyes and her expressions.  I could feel it in Henry's laughter and exuberance.  I could gauge it by the seemingly level blood pressure I encountered throughout the day.

There are three of them.  Each in their own world and at the same time a part of each other's.  Each looking for the same things with different avenues to acquire them.

Our calling as their parents is to recognize their plights, their journeys, their goals, their dreams and aspirations.

I am grateful that I married a woman with whom I can talk with.

   

All for One & One for All

We took Ava, Henry and Ella to the park today.

I put on the baby back-pack and had Ella riding high while Ava & Henry shared the double stroller.  We walked in the humid afternoon, enjoying the slight breeze blowing across our faces. 

Ava & Henry found the places on the playground that they liked best.  Lindsay and I got Ella out of the baby backpack and Lindsay took her to the baby swings.  Within minutes her big brother & sister took over and took care of their little sister.

Lindsay took a video of them.  

~I see the 3 Musketeers~

all for one and one for all.

They are fortunate to have each other.

Lindsay and I are fortunate to have one another.

Each of us are fortunate to have the other four.

Mama Bracelets: A*U*T*I*S*M

Mama Bracelets: A*U*T*I*S*M: "'Autism is diagnosed in about 1–2 per 1,000 people worldwide; however, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) reports about 9..."

Our Puzzle Pieces Fit...

I've worked with kids since 1994.  I've met hundreds of children, scores of parents, many siblings, and a host of extended family members.


I've met and worked with kids who come from a plethora of backgrounds, each having their distinctive personality.  I've seen kids grow from age 5 to age 12 (from my daycare days).  I've worked with silly kids (which is most of them) and talented kids.  I've worked with kids who are simply just growing up in our society and kids who have family struggles.  I've worked with kids who have seen and experienced tragedies in their lives.  I've worked with kids who have physical and mental struggles.  I've worked alongside of kids who are extremely gifted. 


Kids are great.

I've seen a lot of different perspectives when it comes to kids.


I have also had the privilege to work with kids diagnosed with Autism.  One in particular comes rushing to the forefront of my mind.  I think of him often.  His name is Robert.  He must be in his early twenties by now.  I knew him when he was in 5th grade.


I had just completed my Master's Degree in Elementary Education.  That summer I found a job as a teacher's assistant for a 5th grade child diagnosed with Autism.  I knew nothing of the condition except what I had learned as an undergrad studying psychology (my BA degree).  Very general knowledge.


So I read. And I read some more.  And I read some more.  The school district I worked for was wise enough to have me start tutoring Robert during the summer, before school started, so we could get to know one another and I could develop a teaching strategy for him.


The district office we met at each morning was a 15 minute bike ride for me, which I did every morning in the warm summer months.  Each day Robert and I worked.  We worked at getting to know one another.  He was a fascinating, brilliant young man.  We worked at the basics of reading, writing and math.  His autism made it difficult for him to communicate with words...we had to find a way to get the ideas and concepts across to him.  

We had to find a way to make the "puzzle pieces" fit for Robert.


Through trial and error, Robert and I developed a system over the course of the summer.  A system of drawings, manipulatives, mutual respect, and humor that allowed me to teach him and him to learn.  As I look back I realize that he also taught me and it was I who learned.  In fact, we both were teacher and student.


Robert taught me that a diagnosis of anything does not mean you stop living.  He enjoyed all he had.  He loved his drawings, he loved his play money, he loved running outside.  He loved his classmates and they loved him.  He formed a relationship with me and found humor in our days.  He showed me when he was angry, and when he was proud.

Robert taught me that as a teacher I will encounter different learning styles from every student I meet, and that I must be prepared to "find the way to their brain"...to help them put the "puzzle" together.

I think of Robert often.  I remember that he always wanted the lights turned off...I remember that he loved monkeys...

I remember how he looked at me as I spoke to him about something new...his eyes squinted a bit and his head leaned to one side...intently looking at me, then repeating my words the best he could.  We moved from language to activity and through determination he learned what I set out for him to learn...he was fascinating.

Of course, I didn't do this alone.  I had the help of the Special Education Team, the classroom teacher and most importantly, Robert's classmates...they loved and supported him through all his school years...they knew him best.  It's amazing what a group of people can do to benefit one person...

On June 26, my wife, three children and I will be walking to support the Little Friends Inc. whose efforts help and provide assistance to kids and adults diagnosed with autism.  To help them fit their "puzzle pieces" together.

We have teamed up with them through "Step Up for Autism".  

We have designed a Mama Bracelet called the "Autism Awareness Bracelet" that carries a 30% of profits donation to the team.

We'll walk on June 26.  We'll walk for all the kids and adults that have been diagnosed with autism.


I wonder what Robert is doing right now.  I wonder if the things I taught him helped him grow into an independent man.


I wonder if maybe I'll see him at the walk?  


I did my best with Robert...that's all I could ask of myself.  He did his best too.  He was a pleasure and a joy to teach and to learn from.

I hope the puzzle pieces of his life continue to fit together.

Mama Bracelets' "Autism Awareness Bracelet"

Ella's Embrace...

 

Ella and I took a walk today.  I held her close to my body and as she embraced me she let the wind blow on her face, squeals of delight came from her each time mother nature whisked past her.

She laughed and made silly faces at me.  She reached for objects far out of her reach.  She looked around at her world, at our world.  

She yawned three-fourths of the way through our walk.

I repositioned her into the cradle position and the brightness of the sun forced her eyes shut.  They were tightly closed for a few feet then I saw them relax.  Her body molded perfectly with mine as my gait lulled her to sleep.  Wrapped in my hold, she slept with not a care in the world.

Her parents, on the other hand, have a lot on their minds.

Ella saw her pediatrician today;  Dr. Murphy.  We love Dr. Murphy.  She is kind, honest, straight-forward, sensible and a damn good doctor.  She loves our children...we know that simply by the way she interacts with them.  Whenever we've had a concern with one of our kids, Dr. Murphy was right on it.  She always errs on the side of caution; just the way we like it.  She has done wonderfully by us.

Ella's visit with Dr. Murphy showed a different side of our beloved pediatrician.  She talked with Lindsay as usual, listened with genuine ears as usual, and loved Ella upon seeing her as usual. The difference came when she examined our baby girl.

Doctor Murphy put her incredible bedside manner gently aside and took Ella as her focus.  A focus that Lindsay hadn't seen until now.  Dr. Murphy let the training and experience she has as a top-notch doctor take her through the examination.  She gently lifted Ella, looked at her hands, tried to have her bear weight on her little legs.  She thought to herself; she reasoned with all she knew about baby development.  The examination took on a life of its own as Dr. Murphy and Ella did the delicate dance that a patient and doctor might do.  She was searching.  Searching for a clue.  Searching to be able to tell Lindsay something that would ease her mind and subdue her urge to cry.

The examination ended as quickly as it started and Dr. Murphy once again adopted the bedside manner we are accostomed to.  Her training had served her well and her expereince even better.   

She knows something is not quite right with Ella Sabine.  She knows that it could be one of a thousand problems.  She knows it could be something as "simple" as  a developmental delay that will require intense physical therapy or something as "complicated" as a tumor that would require brain surgery.  The possibilities are open.

With grace and understanding, Dr. Murphy has placed us on the path that we need to travel.  Ella will have an MRI next Thursday and then an appointment with a pediatric neurologist the very next day.  The medical team we are now working with wants no delay.  

Lindsay and I continue to talk.  The conversations have taken on a different tone.  A reality that was not quite evident is now present.  There is something not quite right.  We look to the future, both immediate and long-term, and know that whatever we are called to do we will do it together.  We will do whatever it takes to allow Ella to be the very person she intends to be, that God intends her to be.

There's a different atmosphere in the Casten household.  An atmosphere of unity coupled with the apprehension of the unknown.  Lindsay feels it, I feel it, Ava knows of it (she has invented the "Handy Dandy Machine" in her drawings that is designed to help Ella crawl and walk), Henry reacts to it (he is more loving now than ever before), and Ella embraces it.

Ella embraces it.   

She laughs and makes funny faces, she reaches for her world.  She dances her dance and plays games with her tongue.  She hugs the people around her and she delights in what the world has shown her thus far.  

This will be a long week.  We will try to keep busy. We will continue to talk, to feel, to hug and cry.  We will laugh and play, we will sit and reflect.  We will thank God for all of His gifts.

We will, as Ella has done, embrace life as we walk the path before us.

 

Mama Bracelets: Australia & Father's Day...

Mama Bracelets: Australia & Father's Day...: "Did you know? 'In Australia, Father's Day is celebrated on the first Sunday of September and is not a public holiday. YMCA Victoria conti..."

A Fine Line...

Henry loves his stroller.  It's not really his but he has taken ownership of it anyway.  If he feels like it he'll share it with Ava & Ella, but that sharing time comes far and few between.  If he's playing with something else and one of his sisters gets a hold of the stroller the screaming begins and the tantrum ensues...not a pretty sight.  Such loud noises from such a little guy!

Today, Henry was outside as I watered some grass in the front.  When I was finished he indicated that he wanted to go on a walk.  He was wearing his Native American outfit and yes, pushing his pink stroller.

He wanted to stay about 10 feet in front of me.  He wanted control of the walk.  Every 50 feet or so he would stop and look back to make sure I was there.  He'd turn around and walk toward me, get even with me and continue on our walk.  Within 5 feet he would begin his 10 foot lead on me and the whole thing would start all over.  Not only did he want control, he wanted independence...yet he struggled with letting go.  

It's a fine line between dependence and independence.

When kids first enter our lives they depend on us for everything.

Love, food, shelter, cleanliness, and more.

They grow.  And as they grow they seemingly depend on us less and less. Sometimes this independence is welcome, other times it saddens us, for we feel we are "losing our babies".

Each time Henry came back to me I extended my hand and touched his head; he leaned into this touch and then proceeded on his merry way.  This happened a number of times throughout our walk.  I felt close to Henry...just a dad and his boy on a walk.  We didn't speak. We just walked.  

I thought of how he kept coming back to me.  In life, I know he will come back to me when he needs or wants something.  When he is happy, sad, frustrated, angry, in love, or just wanting some company.  I also know that the time between those times will grow longer and longer as he gets older and older.

Watching him walk with such independence, I wondered where life would take my boy; or better yet, where he would take his life.  Seeing him so happy as he cruised in his world, I experienced an overwhelming feeling that I had to keep him protected.  These feelings are what memories are made of.  

Henry and I could and probably will take hundreds of walks together in my lifetime...this one, however, can never be duplicated...it was our walk~initiated by Henry & led by Henry.  It was in this 20 minute walk that I truly realized that my son will strike out on his own someday. 

As he turned to me on our walk to make sure I was there, and as he returned to my side to walk with me for a while, I also realized that my role as a father carries with it everything that has to do with what makes up our lives~~Love.

Special Spot for Special People...

The thoughtfulness of Ava is expressed in her drawings.  She spends many hours of her day at the family room table, with papers placed in piles that seem as though they have no rhyme or reason to their placement.   She'll tell you that the papers are for "people, my special people".

She makes pictures for people.  

Today she gave Pastor Melissa a picture.  It was Pastor Melissa's birthday and Ava made her a picture.   Pastor Melissa was the focus, surrounded by flowers and flying birds, among other things.  She wrote on the picture and brought it to church with her.  She kept it safe throughout the service.

When we leave the sanctuary after the service the pastors greet us at the door that leads into the narthax.  Henry usually hides behind Lindsay or me, holding his smile back, not wanting yet to show his true self. Ella reaches her tiny hands to show she likes whatever it is she is looking at.  

Ava beams.

Ava beams when in the presence of Pastor Melissa or Pastor Miller. Her eyes grow wide and her face glows as her cheeks fill with love while smiling and gazing.  She loves to gather herself close to them waiting for them to lift her up.  They lift her either on their knee while kneeling or as a full lift to a holding position, one arm on their shoulder and one leg wrapped around their side while the other one hangs freely.  

They talk with her.  She responds.  She speaks through her smile and for those moments, the thought of her parents escapes her conscience mind and quietly finds its way to her sub-conscious.  She is comfortable. Safe. Adoring.

Today, she brought Pastor Melissa her gift.  Her gift that she worked on at her special spot.  The special spot where she sings as she draws, creating masterpieces for the special people in her life.

Pastor Melissa brought Ava and her picture into her world as she lifted her onto her knee.  They talked about the picture.  They marveled at the detail and read the words Ava had written.  Ava passed the picture from her tiny hands to Pastor Melissa's loving hands and they exchanged hugs.

Guiding our children in learning about "Living the Love of Christ" is privilege that Lindsay and I welcome.  Knowing that the people we have chosen to help in that guidance are people who truly love the children they encounter fills us with a sense of well being.  They have formed a bond with each of our children as shown by the wide eyed love and adoration we see from our children when in their presence.  

Ava, Henry and Ella are fortunate to have Pastor Miller and Pastor Melissa in their lives.

Ava's artwork continues.  She is singing right now behind me as I write this.  I know that she is expressing her world on that paper.  She's in her special spot making her world come alive for her special people.