Yes. No. More.

A year ago at this time we seemed to constantly face the question of if and when L would walk. For reasons I can't quite explain that seemed to be everyone but ours goal. Don't get me wrong, walking is a wonderful thing, but as I told a friend at a lake gathering, "I would trade walking any day for meaningful communication." He was quick to point out that we had at least some of that. L made certain sounds that caused me to turn my head. We were beginning to hear differences in cries etc. My goal was some form of yes, no and more. It is amazing what you can get across if you have those 3 messages. I didn't even need these in verbal form. Sign language works for me too. L's movements towards those things have been slow.

First we got a version of bye/ blowing kisses. Then we got a Mama and a Daddy. L is VERY strong willed. Many therapists have pointed out this is probably why my child even survived her rough start, but it also means she speaks when and if she chooses, and not because you want her to. So we continued with the sporadic speech. We got lots of sounds. A version of "all done" and then "again." We kept working on yes, no and more but to no avail. Finally midsummer she began to sign and say more. I would have taken either. Both was fabulous. She said it to get Rafferty's cheese fries. You gotta love this kid! We got a variation of the word "swing" and then an occasional yell to get to the slide or outside. Then, slowly at first, very inconsistently, we began to get a nod. A whole body movement for yes, a slight shake for no. Hit vacation and a two handed sign for yes began to take hold only to disappear as soon as we got home. In therapy she was refusing to say up and down, but popped out "Cookie Monster" to get the toy she wanted. And then it was there; a true shake of the head for no, the sign for yes, the sign for more. This is what I asked for. I should be happy right? I should, but tonight she signed "more...please." I am literally crying with delight. Communication with your child....more, please.

Canning

In his book See You in a Hundred Years, the author, Logan Ward, shares how he, his wife and 2 year old son leave NYC and move to rural Virginia. The plan was to spend a year living as people would have in about 1900. They moved in the spring as soon as the garden was producing a few things in the hopes that they would be able to live off the land. As you can imagine, suddenly being with your spouse 24 hours a day brought on some issues. Cracks or stress points that had existed in their marriage prior to the project seemed to become giant holes. He goes on the explain that if they still lived in New York, they would no doubt be spending time on some therapist's couch. As the situation would have it, they worked out their problems over a hot stove and canning jars.

Ahh the healing power of the canning jar. I have no idea why, but each summer I am overtaken with an almost uncontrollable urge to bring in the harvest and fill my shelves with winter goodies. Some may call it The Proverbs 31 woman gone overboard. Others may see lunatic squirrel. Either way, here I am...up to my elbows in pickles and jams trying to figure out how to get tomatoes and green beans finished before school starts next week. Yes, I know "they sell those things at Wal- Mart."


It is no secret that I have a pretty stressful life. Every time I think I will get my head above water, some crazy thing like farm accidents or dental surgery plunges me under again. I have seen a therapist before, and would certainly encourage people mired in depression to do so, but this is not quite the same thing. This is daily life run out of control. Too many outside demands, and not enough of the priorities I want to have. Some days I have nothing to show for my hours in this house. I have carried L all day or refereed kids and end the day exhausted and questioning my worth. Thus canning.

There is something terribly empowering about knowing that even if I don't get to the grocery, I can still fix a fabulous meal by just running down to the garden. Fresh tomatoes and squash are an almost perfect meal. Even better than those fresh veges are the jewel like jars that dot my couter tops at the end of a summer day. This is accomplishment at its best. This is my therapy. The house fills with the smell of ripe fruit as I begin peeling and prepping the product of the day. The kids have to be dealt with, so I strike deals with B and H. "Take L to the trampoline for 15 minutes and then you can have....." Meanwhile I rush like crazy to move hot jars in to position or coax the thick, sticky syrup in my cauldron to a boil; "lava" a friend once called it. Sometimes I get the girls in on the action. We won't be winning awards for consistent sized pickles, but B loves to chop and slice. I may only get a few pints done in a day, but there they sit; neat rows of shiny jars, deep orange, yellow green and various shades of purple. I listen for the lids to ping as I wash up the supplies and can't help but smile. Contentment swells within me. This is a job well done, work with an obvious product to show. This would be enough reason to can, but then there is the look on J's face as he tastes peach jam that is somehow even peachier than the fruit from which it came. And, the over heard comment from H " my Mama makes the best strawberry jam."

Dolphins and Sea Turtles and Crabs, Oh My!

St George is a nature lovers paradise. The Island is dotted with marked off triangles where sea turtle eggs are securely nested waiting to hatch. There are no lights on the beach and all the condos have black out curtains to keep from confusing hatch lings that instinctively know to look for the light of the horizon. The dolphins swim so close you sometimes wonder if you could touch them. The sightings are so common, the kids quit turning to look when we yelled. The other native inhabitant is the crab. Last year we had one that lived right off our patio, and was staring at us each morning when we raised the blinds. This year the girls went looking for them. Brian couldn't go and he couldn't handle the twins very well for long, so the girls headed out with whatever adult they could convince. The big crabs were okay. However.... one night Uncle Danny and Grandpa led the expedition to the beach. The girls wanted to make sure I didn't miss oooing and ahhhing over their finds, so brought back a bag filled not only with a larger crab, but a handful of quarter and dime sized little suckers which they promptly released in the condo. Let's see, sand colored crabs racing around on the sand colored carpet and me in bare feet. I'll take the chair thanks.

Just Posing

My Fish

B and H love the water. They practice mermaid kicks and all sorts of underwater games. H may be the dare devil, but B loves to snorkel and explore. L also loves the water. This is the one place she can give J a run for his money. She goes under, "dives", blows bubbles and is learning to kick and float on her back. J prefers to have his feet firmly touching the bottom, or be carried by very capable hands. I commented one morning that I had 3 fish and a landlubber. B looked at J for a moment and said "I think you have 3 fish and a crab."

St George Island 2009

What a wonderful time we had at the beach! St George Island, Florida is very isolated and not yet overtaken by tourists and chain stores and eateries. We had such a great time last year that we made a return trip to the exact same spot. All the Bush clan made it for at least some portion of the week. The whole island seems to move at a slower pace than the rest of the world. We ate breakfast at 9 and rarely made it off the beach unless it was to move to the pool. Very little stress. We didn't try to eat out and still had some of the best seafood ever. The local grocery made wonderful crab cakes that we fried at several meals. Karen made a delicious Jambalaya with local shrimp, and we had local steamed peel and eat shrimp another night. Add some fresh produce and we ate like kings. Brian was a little more limited this time, so I definitely got a work out loading and unloading the van. Sleep, more videos than we see in 6 months, good food and plenty of playtime.... can I have another week please?

Mama Moments

I try really hard to never take J and L to the grocery or Walmart if I can at all help it. In the event I have to, it is imperative to take at least one big sister. However, recent events have made that impossible, so I took J and L to the mall, then to Target, and finally to Sam's. This would be a nightmare under the best of circumstances, but on we went. First L has a tsunami flood out of her diaper in Sam's so we park the cart, grab an outfit, pay for it at the check out and then go change her. We go back to the cart. L was so upset in Target that I held her and pushed the cart at the same time. She decided to throw a similar fit in Sam's, but I could not push this large cart and carry her. I also could not put the things on the checkout counter and you know how helpful Sam's employees are. She resorts to her best tactic of banging her head sharply on the cart handle. In desperation, I ask J to put his arm there while I get the heaviest items. He dutifully does, even as L begins to pinch the fire out of him. He cried, but he never moved his arm. He is an awesome brother. Then he put his sweet hands on either side of her head and turned her towards him and calmly said, "Look at me. Are you listening? We don't do that." Be still my heart.

Brian Update

For those of you whom still haven't heard.... Brian has a partially torn ACL, partially torn PCL, meniscus torn on both sides and an assortment of other knee issues. We will hear next week what the surgery/recovery plan will be. In the mean time he is trying to reduce swelling. As I can't keep him off his feet instead of going full steam, just on crutches, I am hoping vacation next week will help. No guilt for sitting in front of the TV or at the pool with his leg propped up. Please keep praying for us. Luckily for us, as Brian pointed out, his love language is gifts of service. I guess that means our marriage will come out of this stronger. Either that, or he will figure out he really needed to add nursing degree to that original list of 5 things he wanted in a wife!

Southern Living Homes or An otherwise lame attempt to explain why my house is always trashed

I really love descriptive writing of first impressions or first arrivals. Anne's first glimpse of Green Gables, Laura's description of the surveyor's house and pantry, and my favorite, Harry's arrival at the Burrow. Harry grew up in a home where everything was perfect, all the time. The Burrow stands in stark contrast. It is a little run down, the yard needs some work, there are boots piled at the doorstep. The house has a cluttered feel. Ron is a little embarrassed, but Harry sees and feels the love and comfort of a family that is actually busy about living life and caring for each other.

I think I love this because despite my continued hopes, I am still a terrible housekeeper. I did not grow up in a world of what I call Southern Living homes. The magazine of the same name regularly came to our house and as I got a little older, I studied the pictures from time to time. I didn't think anybody really lived like this, anymore than I thought most people looked like the models on the covers of fashion magazines. Don't get me wrong, the people I lived with and visited didn't live in squalor, there homes just looked, well, lived in. There was usually laundry waiting to be folded somewhere. Most of us had very small laundry rooms so that meant laundry was on a couch or a chair. Canning jars or other things were always on the kitchen counter and if they taught like my mom and my friends mom did, there was a makeshift teachers workroom somewhere in the house. No one extra came to clean or was ever even discussed. The closest we ever came to this was Senior "Slave" Days at my mom's school, where for a donation to the senior trip, some students came to your house and did odd jobs. I realize I was a kid, but I don't remember feeling constantly bothered by this or feeling like we being judged for our lack of perfect homes.

Enter 2009. Lots of people around me have Southern Living homes. They are not only perfectly decorated, but always kept clean and presentable. I hear people joke about mess etc to such a point that I live in fear that someone will come to the door uninvited. I apologize for the state of our house constantly and never feel like it is enough. Lets be honest, to some people it won't be. But ....life is about choices.

I spend a lot of time with L, but even without that, our house would still have plenty of issues. I don't want to stop creative ideas and thinking so the girls' rooms are a little bit of a blank canvas. They change bedspreads as their moods and interests change. They have cheap posters and personal artwork all over the walls. They build lego every things all over the place and J runs train track in constantly changing patterns. L needs toys visible and low so she can get to them. We cook and eat multiple times a day. We do projects. They cut up boxes for clubs and mailboxes. H needs a personal supply of tape. I grow things in the kitchen. We recycle. We compost. We let the whole thing go and read for hours or Brian and I just spend time together talking about nothing in general. We dance in the kitchen on the sticky floor. I look at the to do list and make cookies instead.

And then.... I feel guilty and horrible and frustrated and like a very bad mom and make everybody miserable as we try to get things done. Plain and simply, I don't want to live in a Southern Living home. Let me just admit to all that I can't keep house, don't expect it if you come by and keep all judgements to your self. L may have made a mess in the above picture, but she picked up the cups herself and tilted the cups over her head. A wrist action we have worked on forever. Nothing inspires like dirt. Let's see those perfect homes do that!

Taking Care of Daddy

Daddy had a little accident this week. A large tail gate from a metal wagon came down on his head and knee. He has stitches in his head and Mama shaved off some of his hair! His knee is very swollen and he can't stand up without crutches. The doctor will tell us next week what will have to be done to his knee. Mama says you can tell how much he hurts because he put himself to bed when we got back from the emergency room and she didn't even have to yell at him. I can't help Daddy much, but at least I don't jump on the bed like my partner J does and I don't try to drive trucks around the crutches. I decided the best thing for me to do was curl up beside Daddy and just snuggle him.

Translations

Last weekend H played in an all day tournament in Bowling Green. This was the first time we took the wheelchair out of our very familiar territory. I probably should have seen it coming, but I was a little unprepared for the comments etc that this little contraption brought. As soon as I lifted it out of the van, heads began to turn. We saw and heard lots of things so here is what was actually said, and my rough translation.

As B and I walked in, a coach from another team offered L candy. Translation: I can't believe I just yelled at my perfectly healthy child for missing a ball when this small tyke can't even walk. At least this small token makes me feel better. (Of course B wondered what kind of weirdo this was and wanted to make sure the package was wrapped and had not been tampered with. Actually this happened several times)

How old is she? Translation: What's wrong with her?

What a pretty girl. Translation: I realize that I have been staring at you. Obviously the deformed ear, the extreme stiffness, the chunks of missing hair and unfocused eyes mean something is wrong but hopefully this will excuse my rudeness.

Me-"If you want to go on to that field, push yourself." Imagine the vicious stares. Translation: How can you talk like that to this poor invalid child.

I personally find children much easier to deal with. They say "What's wrong with her?" Translation: I really want to be informed- what's wrong with her. Then I can answer his or her question without any pretenses. Children also accept the answers and go on in a way adults can't seem to do.

The amazing thing about wheelchairs or challenges like CP or Down's syndrome or anything else is that how you see them is nothing but perspective. The man who says "Look at that poor little thing." as we walk by doesn't realize that quite the contrary, this wheel chair empowers her and gives L control she could never otherwise have. The fact that I can fuss at her to move herself is a statement on how far she has come. No one would have looked at me funny for making H carry her own bag or J walk on his own feet. One of the things I love most about our trips to Vandy for therapy are the others in the waiting room. All of these children have unique special needs. As L gets mad when she can't make a turn and I am not helping, no one gives a sympathetic look, instead, they say " You can do that" or to me "Don't let her give up now". People share your delight with the arrival of new equipment. Equipment is power and freedom. Wrestling that spoon means self feeding is even on the radar. Spewing the drink out all over me is irritating, but drinking from a straw is a priceless skill -never under estimate the freedom a child drinking from a straw gives you. You may see a mess, but I see a child who can get a drink in the school cafeteria.

L has some really rough days and we pray for healing, strength and patience on a moment by moment basis, but I am also very thankful for the strides she has made and the opportunities we have been given. Nothing is "wrong" and she isn't "a poor little thing." She is a fabulous little girl with a lot harder climb than you or I. She is a spitfire rebel determined to do things her way. She is power. If you doubt that , let her take a bite of you. We all have bruises and scars that prove it. She may not be as verbal as we like, but those closest to her know the translation "I WILL BE HEARD!"

L's New Wheels

How very exciting!! After 3 long months of waiting, L's wheelchair finally came in and as B said "it just looks so cute!" We have so many things to be thankful for today. These same therapists and equipment people worked with L 3 months ago, and they could hardly believe the changes in her. She showed better body control, was more verbally expressive and best of all had a great attitude. Even with no nap and a lengthy drive before hand, they described her as "funny." She kept them in stitches, even when she became fascinated at being able to hang almost upside down in the seat with the seat belt holding her in place. This caused her to throw up, but even that was met with little girl giggles. L is delighted by her mobility and is already working hard to control the chair on her own. Just to make sure it was J proof, every safety/ anti tip option available was added to it. L definitely has backwards down, forwards is a little harder. My walls will never be the same again. I hope you can tell from the pictures how very small it really is. I told several people, I was sure it was ordered from the American Girl doll catalog. Don't get me wrong, we still have some rough days, but I know God is at work and only He could as Brian said " give her back her smile."

Wax Museum

H's class did a fabulous job learning about famous Americans and then sharing the info with other grades and of course Moms! Can you find H? She is Sandra Day O'Connor, but she also made Amelia Earhart's plane. Others pictured are Elizabeth Blackwell, FDR, Elizabeth Stady Canton, JFK, Benjamin Franklin, Wilbur Wright, Thomas Edison, Neil Armstrong, Harriet Tubman, Jackie Robinson, and of course Einstein. The funniest part was how close to each child's personality was the great person they portrayed!

Big Red School Spring 2009

Oh how we have loved Big Red School. I can not say enough about the wonderful things that Miss Lisa and her students are doing. Every city in America should have such an innovative program. It is wonderful for J, but it is an absolute blessing for L. She has made such great strides. At the closing program, she did not sing or do the motions, but she sat in her little cube chair as part of the group without getting upset. When the parents clapped between songs, she clapped with them and smiled her ear to ear grin. She loves being bragged on! J didn't sing either, but he did at supper that night! I especially want to thank L's Miss Jennifer (the blonde reading the book). On good days and bad, she met L at the door with a smile and excitement about all the possibilities of the day. She was patient, firm and kind despite L's sometimes abusive actions. I know she is a big part of the reason L did so well. Who would have thought that the same child who couldn't even sit up in a grocery cart a year ago would be working on getting in and out of a cube chair on her own. We love people that love our children and I adore those who find ways to open doors. Thank You!!!

75-25

During our almost 13 years of marriage, Brian and I have had 4 rather rocky times. By rocky, I mean more than the usual arguments, issues that run much deeper than "your late" or "you forgot such and such" and longer lasting than a day or so. 1, 2 and 4 all had to do with transitions after kids. 3 is the subject of a book, not a blog so lets just stick with kid adjustments. Nothing can prepare you for the changes kids bring. Both the social worker and our sweet friends Eddie and Susan tried to explain this while still calling children a blessing. Others did it in less than nice ways, but I'll also leave that for my scathing tell all. (Just kidding) Reality is hard. Brian is a workaholic who constantly worries he won't set a good example for his employees. I am a perfectionist parent who believes anything less than Martha Stewart, June Cleaver and the proverbs 31 woman rolled into one is failure. We ran head long into the whole parent thing.
The first was the hardest as we completely upset our established roles and learned the new guidelines. How late could/should Brian work? How much personal "play time" was appropriate? How many "good" things could we manage? When was one parent enough and when should both be involved? What was our personal parenting style going to look like? How were we going to handle the reactions of others when and if our parenting style didn't look like theirs? Not to mention just figuring out how to manage day to day life with much less sleep and more things on the to do list.
We thought we were prepared for this with number 2, but once again we were knocked off our socks. After a few months of feeling like a total failure, we were blessed to have a fabulous social worker who saw all the red flags of attachment disorders. I won't go into great detail here, but attachment disorders are ugly things. It took alot of time, therapy, commitment and rethinking how we did some things to get through this. We hope the worst is behind us, but this little issue still rears its ugly head from time to time.
Enter the arrival of J and L. This time we had our eyes wide open. We understood attachment disorders and were prepared to make whatever drastic changes might be required. We were united on our willingness to draw firm boundaries if that's what it took to deal with the issues under our own roof. We understood that L had more special needs than we had ever dealt with and that there were many unknowns. We knew life was about to get infinitely harder. We knew this was clearly what God was calling us to do and were and continue to be humbled at the trust he has placed in us. Before Brian made even the first trip to Russia, we made some agreements. We understood that priorities and choices would have to change. Brian was going to have to cover more at home and both of us were going to have to be flexible. Brian was going to need to be in earlier or even for chunks of time in the middle of the day. I was going to have to be all right with Brian going back out in the evenings or early mornings. We were both going to give up some outside roles at church or in the community.
I wish I could tell you this was a seamless adjustment, but of course it wasn't. We had some battles as we literally worked out a life that we can all be satisfied with. (This is an ongoing activity.) Brian has really tried and he makes countless sacrifices. Some days we wonder if they are the right ones, but then we have moments....

• B had a particularly bad day including ongoing troubles with 2 other girls in her class. H offered to punch one of them in the nose. No violence is not the answer but we worked hard for united sisters.
• J and L have a small closing program at the same time as B's knitting class. "I can always go to knitting. I want to see J and L's program."
• And my personal favorite.... Brian needed to be on the computer for an Internet sale during the evening crazy hour. I am trying to get supper on the table, B and H are working on homework, J is wreaking havoc. L really need meds to kick in. Brian finally comes and gets L and then holes himself up in the office, bidding with her help. Hope we didn't buy anything extra! Brian finally gave up and joined us for supper. We could still hear the computer going and Brian's phone was ringing off the hook. I thanked Brian for making this choice. Had smiled and said, " that's because Daddy's heart belongs 25% to cattle and 75% to us" Brian laughed and smiled at me "that means I've come a long way!"