How the Special Olympics has changed our lives

It took 8 years. It took 8 years to finally get the correct correlation of diagnosis to actually help my son. We have had our ups and we have had our downs but since starting the special Olympics our lives, all of our lives have changed for the better.

He was so excited when he was finally able to join our local special Olympics team the wildcats. We started out slow and joined the bowling team. We did so because we had tried him out playing soccer with the town team a few years ago and it didn't end well. It was an "instructional" league but most of these kids have been playing since they were in diapers, and to be honest there was no instruction involved. My son had such anxiety about playing because he was so afraid he was going to do it wrong, and because honestly he had no idea how to really play the game, other than having kicked a ball around in our back  yard.

After his first few times bowling with the wildcats I started noticing things about my son I had never seen before. When he would talk to his coaches he was looking them in the eye. He was sitting at tables with his peers and smiling and laughing with them. It was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. So we signed him on up for volleyball.

During volleyball practice I was that mother, yanno the one who refused to leave him there without me there. So I sat on a folding chair in the hallway. It was in that hallway I broke into tears because I heard them yelling and cheering my boy's name. I don't know what he did, and I still don't, but that doesn't matter. They were cheering him on. They were standing behind him. They were lifting him up in ways he has never had happen outside of our home before and it touched my heart.

Then...it was time for hockey. I am not going to lie I was down right nervous and thought we were crazy to sign him up. In all honesty I thought we were setting him up for failure. I could picture the soccer fiasco all over again. But the most amazing thing happened. HE LOVED IT! Not only did he love it but he wasn't half bad at it either.
So every sunday I climbed onto that wildcats bus and went and watched my boy play his heart out.

I'll never ever forget the first time he was on the winning team. I looked at him and asked him if he was excited that his team won. His response will always, always, ALWAYS sit with me. He looked at me and said

"oh...we won? I didn't even know I was having so much fun"

THAT IS WHAT IT IS ALL ABOUT! My eight year old reminded me what it is all about. It has nothing to do with winning or losing, is about having fun and playing the game. Every game I went to I watched my little man play better than he had the game before. It was all about personal best. It was also amazing to see the coaches reinforce the same thing. Try your hardest, play your hardest and have fun. It doesn't matter if you win or lose.

Not only has my son learned how to play sports, but by being a part of the wildcats he has learned more independence and is losing his fear of trying things for himself. My little man has learned better self care, he has learned that there are people out there who care about him for who he is no matter what. He has things to talk about, and is so happy. These are things I never thought I was going to see happen for him.

Not only has being part of the wildcats changed his life, but it has changed mine as well. I so love going to his practices, and his games and watching him play, and spending time with the other athletes. I can honestly say I love each of the athletes as if they were my very own. These athletes and coaches alike have the biggest hearts, and take you in as if you were family. For a bunch of misfits like us that is a HUGE deal.

For all you special needs parents out there I highly suggest signing your kids up with your local special Olympics team if they are interested. It is a life changing, heart filling experience that is a joy to behold.

I love the wildcats and they are stuck with us weather they like it or not.

IT'S OK!

This morning...my day started out by dragging my six year old kicking and screaming to the bus...in shorts and bare feet...in 30 degree weather....all because he couldn't find his toy phone...while still recovering from major surgery.

yup...you read that right...because he couldn't find his toy phone.

Honestly once the bus drove away I sat down and wanted to cry, yell, scream, hit something. (no not someone, and don't get all judgmental because even if you wouldn't say it out loud we all get to that point once in a while)

I just couldn't figure out what they heck was going on. I was pissed. I was REALLY pissed. I kept thinking how I just wanted one morning, just one single morning, maybe even half a morning where if I take 5 minutes more to finish drinking my tea everything wouldn't fall apart. Just one morning where I don't have to stand in the middle of everything barking out orders, because if I don't my boys literally just start walking around in circles because they have to be on such a strict schedule. Just one morning where I don't have to do some kind of damage control because this one dared to look in the direction of that one. Just. One. Morning.

I took my twenty minutes, where I thought about how I just wanted this or that, and then....I sucked it up, got up and went about the rest of my morning. I needed that time to have a pity party for lack of a better term.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm not saying I want pity, or that I deserve pity. I am not saying I don't love my boys or that I would change anything about them. They are who they are, special needs does not define them. 

I am just saying that there are moments where I need to sit down and tell myself that my life as a mom of these boys is tough. That it can be tiring, and that its ok if I get aggravated.

This isn't the road I thought I would be on but here I am and I think we are doing pretty damn good walking it together, but there will be those moments where things suck and things are hard, and its ok to own it. It's ok to take a moment to scream, or yell, or cry or whatever because sometimes that's what you need to do to get yourself riled to make it through the rest of the day. There is nothing to be ashamed about.

The more we stuff it down and hold it in, the more harm we are doing to ourselves. If we are not taking care of ourselves then we can't properly take care of our kids. Just like when you are on a plain (something I have only done once and really don't want to ever do again because I am crazy scared of plunging to my death)...they tell you to put the mask on yourself and then your child because if you are not ok, then you are unable to make sure that your child is ok. It is the same thing here ladies (and gentleman if your reading) we need to take those moments to vent, we need to take those moments for ourselves in order to correctly do the job that we need to do.

Sure there will always be those people on the outside looking in who think its awful. Who will have some kind of judgmental comment about how we don't seem thankful to have children, or how its wrong to get upset....I'm gonna take a guess and say those people are not parents, or have no idea how to be a special needs parent. I mean shit being a parent in general is hard enough. So yanno what...those people can go slide up a rose bush. Until they walk a day in your shoes, you don't need to care at all about what they think.

This moment is between you and the walls. As long as your not sitting there yelling and screaming or crying at your child and letting it out in a safe way then go for it mamas.

In fact...here is my challenge for you. When you are done reading this...if you are alone take a second and just yell. Yell about how you spilt your last cup of coffee all over your white shirt when your kid came running around the corner. Or yell about the IEP meeting that didn't go your way. Scream out how pissed you are at the fact that your kid waited until last night to tell you about the science project so you ended up pulling an all nighter. Cry about the fact that your child may have special needs, that your son or daughter is not that perfect child that we all dream about. Its ok.

But then...when you are done yelling. Stand up. Brush it off. and Keep it moving. Because your house hold isn't gonna run itself and if your house is anything like mine it is going to fall apart if you don't get moving.

UM OUCH

I am so sorry to the few of you who read this!
I have been MIA because I was really sick, and then three weeks ago I had to get my gallbladder removed.

Now....If you read my blog you know that there is nothing about me that is normal...not even close. However when they went in to do this "simply laparoscopic hardly any pain" surgery they realized that I am more abnormal than anyone could have thought.

It turns out my gallbladder some how alone the line of being formed decided to climb up into my liver and stay there. So at 28 years old it was finally discovered and instead of that easy surgery, they had to cut me wide open, then cut my liver to get the gallbladder out. Not fun...and um...OUCH!

Well I was stuck in that stupid hospital bed for five days when I think begged the doctor to let me go home. Now don't get me wrong, they had the good pain meds and anything I needed they brought to me, because well I could barely even sit up since they cut my stomach muscles. But it is really hard to be the micromanaging, stay at home super mom, that I try (yes TRY) to be, when I'm not in my home with my kids!

Now first of all I have to give props to my awesome husband because he took almost two weeks off from work to take care of the boys the first week, and then myself and the boys the second. He did a great job. Ok he did his best, thankfully my mom was around to give him a hand, nothing against him, he is just not used to being home with the three boys and has no idea how their schedules go, what their day time quirks are etc. But I'm sorry in my mind no one is gonna do it the way I am going to do it, and the thought of that drove me crazy.

Knowing that my two special needs boys were probably not doing so well because I wasn't there and their schedules were probably out of whack was killing me. I just needed to get home. So I made a deal with the doc. I said doc. I promise you I will continue to do nothing, I will just be way more comfortable doing nothing at home than I will be here in the hospital. Thankfully he was ok with that and discharged me that night, night number 5.

Welp ladies let me tell you, trying to micromanage from the couch is kinda annoying. I mean I can talk until I am blue in the face doesn't mean anyone is going to listen. Then I opened my pantry to notice that EVERYTHING was moved around...same with my cabinets. Ummm NOOOOOOO!!!! Not ok. I am far from OCD I am not a super neat person, and I am not a super organized person. However my cabinets and my pantry are two places where I know where everything is and have everything where I want it, because it makes breakfast before school and packing lunches super quick and easy.

But wait! Then I go into my bedroom and BAM my closet was a disaster and so were my drawers. AHHHHHHH. again don't get me wrong I was sooo happy that the laundry was done and the house hold chores kept moving even though I was laid up but I couldn't find anything. Yes I am currently stuck in yaga pants and hoodies unless I uncomfortably put on a pair of jeans for a small outing that I'm allowed to take, but still I want to be able to just open the drawer and pull them out. But nope my yoga pants and old t-shirts were hung up in the closet...so confusing. Thankfully I had a good day the other day and I say myself on the floor and rearranged everything I could to get my closet back on track...my pantry is still killin me though.

Its weird though....even though things weren't going the way that I would have wanted them...they were still going. I had this weird ache in my gut (and not from the surgery) the first few days that had me lingering on the verge of tears. I realized that, even though I am sure I make things easier on my family, they dont NEED me to keep things going. Sure they did things differently, but they still got them done without me. I didnt like that.....ummm OUCH!

But then it hit me. I was doing my job better than I thought! I was working hard and parenting my boys to be able to handle shifts in their routine even though it is tough. I was making sure that my husband spent time with my boys and loving on them and making sure he knows them and their needs. My job isnt to do everything for my kids....but to teach them to do things for themselves. To raise them to be God fearing, organized, happy amazing young men. This experience has shown me that I am doing a kick ass job at that!

So even though the major huge gross ugly cut across my stomach makes me say umm...ouch...the rest of it...its just another reason to smile and get back on my feet so I can keep working hard and teaching them how to work hard.

Monster Mash

You know this monsters your little is like... ok your little BECOMES, when they start having a HUGE tantrum over absolutely NOTHING at all and EVERYTHING all at the same time? I am talking the kicking, screaming until they are horse, has you blinking back tears nothing you do works kinda monster tantrum?

My favorite tantrum was this morning...when my six year old was screaming so loud I am shocked the police did not show up, because he could not find his underwear. The underwear that we laid out the night before with the rest of his close, in order to try and avoid these tantrums in the morning. So after a wile I finally walked into the living room where he insisted on getting dressed to see if I could hunt down his underwear.

Though I was beyond pissed at this point because he has thrown and kicked numerous things, I was even more pissed to have to say "ummm hun your underwear is sitting under your left hand."

I was quite happy. Here I was thinking awesome that was quick his underwear was in his hand problem solved right? HA WROOONNGG!!!!!

What did my little love say to me? At the top of his lungs he screamed "YOU JUST HATE ME!!"

Wait what? I just saved the day, I found the missing, not so missing, underwear that was in your hand the entire time and I hate you?

Welp his fit went on for most of the morning over anything and everything. From the underwear to me just hating him to what I made him for lunch to wanting to wear his sandals when it was only 40 something outside this morning, and not to mention it was gym day and I nicely (or as nicely as I could manage at that point) reminded him that if the school called and said that I had to bring sneakers for hi for gym class or he was going to have to sit out, that I would simply say sorry he has to sit out today I'm not bringing sneakers. It went on and on and on and on and on.

But then.....oh yes then. He really did it. This little one had the audacity to turn to me while walking down the front porch steps to the bus and SMILE!!

That's right SMILE and say love you mom see you after school! Like...that was it...like nothing had happened at all. Like that awful screaming didn't just make me want to poke my ear drums out all morning.

and because I do I said I love you too have a great day, and I waved, but God knows in my head I'm thinking...

yup ok love you too...I'm gonna be laying under your bus as it drives away...don't worry about the thud...just tell the driver to keep on going!

yup.....we all have those moments...I'm just dumb enough to put them in print ;)

Sorry...Not sorry

From the time my oldest little was tree I was ALWAYS saying sorry wherever we went. Either he had a fit or a total melt down and I was saying sorry. Or he was doing something "weird" that made others uncomfortable...so I was saying sorry. I was ALWAYS saying sorry.

Then as time went on and he got his diagnosis I would apologize for that. For example "sorry its the Asperger's."

I got sick of saying sorry after a while and used to take my poor child by the hand and would make him apologize for his own behavior. Seriously I think I was brain dead for a little while there, I mean legit, I was having my child say that he was sorry for behavior he didn't know he was doing half the time, and the other half the time was totally out of his control.

Then FINALLY it hit me.

I nor he have NOTHING to be sorry for. If someone has an issue with the fact that my son is having a fit that has more to say about them than it does he or I. If they want to be judgmental and think that my son having a fit means that I must not reprimand him at home, or that I spoil him and give him everything that he wants that's on them. That just shows that they are small minded ignorant human beings, because God forbid they take a second to think that maybe he is unable to control his behavior in the store because he is over stimulated by everything going on around him. Maybe there are to many people and he is just crawling out of his skin. Maybe we (stupidly) forgot to bring his headphones and music and the mixture of noises going on around him are just to much for his senses to handle.

So...For a little while I was able to jus ignore the stares. They made me uncomfortable but I was able to push through and get out of there before shedding some silent tears on the drive home.  But then, it hit me again, seriously...tears? Why am I crying? I have nothing to be embarrassed or upset about and neither does my son! If anyone should be embarrassed it should be whomever it was that was standing there staring at us!

Now...my friends, and family will tell you I pretty much to the opposite. I probably shouldn't, and its probably not the best example. But if for some reason I glance up (and its not often because usually I am focused on my child and his needs at that moment) and someone is staring at my son while he is having a "moment" while out in public I'll usually give a look and say WHAT?!? So that, if even for a moment, they feel a pang of what it feels like to have someone looking at them, staring at them, for their behavior.

So ya know what....sorry....not sorry.

Don't forget your umbrella

I grew up in a house where my mother took no shit. I'm sorry for the "bad" word but there is just no other word I could use, that's just how it was.

I take even less so when it comes to my boys.

For example, my youngest son works a lot with early intervention. The other day my middle little was home "sick" and was yelling and screaming and not getting his own way, so he was running away. I simply looked at him right in front of the therapist here from early intervention and said

"ok Blake that's fine. Its chilly so wear a sweat shirt, oh and you might want to bring an umbrella its supposed to rain"

I am shocked that childrens services did not show up at my door that night because she gave me a look of sheer terror. She could not believe that I would be ok with the fact that my son was "running away." Maybe she thought I was seriously ok with it. Maybe it didn't occur to her that he says this numerous times a day and usually takes one step outside of our gate turns around with tears in his eyes, says he is sorry and comes running back for a hug. Or, maybe she is the kind of mom who coddles her kids.

Don't get me wrong. If she wants to coddle her kids, to run to them every time they fall down, to gasp every time her toddler weebles or wobbles that's totally her prerogative. In my house if there is no blood your probably ok. Even if there is your not going to find me running over gasping and gushing all over them because, with my kids at least, that just scares them and makes them more nervous and gets them even more upset than they already are.

However, I don't like getting the dirty looks for how I choose to parent.

Now I wont lie. When my oldest little was tiny I was probably making sure that every tiny drop of snot was swept away by a tissue laden with lotion instead of today where id probably say use your sleeve (I have three boys give me a break)

However the point here ladies (and gentleman) is that it really doesn't matter. Coddle your kids go for it. Don't take their shit that's cool to. Go for that in between that's awesome. But keep those stupid judgy stares to yourself because those are sooooooooo not needed!

Give us some space and a broken vagina

So yesterday I am in in the ER waiting room FOREVER (apparently I have some gall stones yay for me) so any way I'm sitting there and there and I over hear the nurses saying that there is a new mama coming in.

She apparently had her baby five days prior and was bleeding really, really badly. Her doctor told her to go to the ER, he was already in the office and said the ER doctor should see her and then just call him and tell him what happened.

So sure enough I am sitting there and in comes this poor mama. She is in tears because she had to leave her baby at home. She asked the nurse how long they thought she was going to be there, and the nurses told her that she was going to be here at least a few hours.

Well let me tell you, this poor girl just broke down and started sobbing. She said that she is breast feeding and that she has to feed her baby. That she doesn't want to have her baby come to the hospital because she doesn't want her baby to get sick. I felt so bad for her, but the nurse...the nurse just rolls her eyes and asks her why she didn't pump before she left.

Again in tears this poor girls says that her doctor told her that she shouldn't pump for at least three weeks because she wont be making much milk until then and that way she will avoid any nipple confusion. The response of the nurse was to again roll her eyes and say that perhaps this poor thing should get herself a new doctor. ( I mean I tend to agree any doctor who just ships his patent off to the ER and wants nothing to do with them isn't the best of doctors but still)

Any way my this entire thing got me to thinking. HOW FREAKING ANNOYING IS IT WHEN YOU HAVE A BABY AND THESE SO CALLED PROFESSIONALS BOSS YOU AROUND?!?!

With my last son, now we are talking number three. I felt like such an idiot. Yes an idiot! In the hospital they make me feel like nothing I do is right and that if I am not doing it their way I must not be doing it right at all and I just can't stand it! I could not wait to get out of there so that I could just get comfortable and get to know my baby without someone hovering over me.

When they laid my third little on me the first thing I did was drop the top of my gown and bring him to my breast and sure as shootin he latched right on. I had two nurses the one was thrilled. The other however was soooo annoyed. She wanted to clean him all up. She was like umm does he really have to eat now. I totally ignored her. I was in pure bliss that me and my littlest of little men were bonding and that I had the opportunity to do so. (do to emergent situations I didn't have the chance with my first two)

Before I was able to take him home I had to show them that I knew how to change him and bath him and all that good stuff...I was like legit? I have two boys at home. They have been fed and changed and bathed and so on, I know how to do this. It's just so awful.

I feel like (and forgive me if it is not like this where you are) even though many doctors and hospitals preach on skin to skin and how important it is to spend time with your baby and get comfortable with your baby etc they just don't really mean it if it gets in their way, of its not the way that THEY would get comfortable, or if its the way THEY would breast feed or the way THEY would change the baby etc.

So lovely doctors nurses and hospitals here is my idea or words of advice to you. Help us pop those babies out. Make sure we don't bleed out all over the floor that our babies are not blue and leave us alone. Yup that's right you heard me...leave us alone!! Give us a chance (especially first time moms) to learn how to be a mom. We have been doing this since the beginning of time. When a baby is born so is a mom. If you are always pushing your way to do things down a mom's throat they are never going to feel comfortable. Sure I want you to pop in and see if I need help, or to answer my questions etc. But I want you to give us moms some SPACE. Let us figure out what works best for us and for our babies. That way when we go home, we are not starting at square one again! Just let us do our thing...we'll be alright, not to mention it will make your shift a hell of a lot easier.

Oh and as for that poor mama...I over heard the nurses giving report...and that woman deserves a gold metal, flowers, chocolate, wine, and some diamonds because she had a fractured cervix, yes that's right a fractured cervix...a broken vagina ladies...and here she was crying because she was worried about nipple confusion...shoot I would have been crying about having to sit down. I tip my hat and raise my glass to mystery mama in the ER.