Just another trip to the store

Dear Employees and Customers at Dick's Sporting Goods on the Pike who were there from 5-6pm on Tuesday, June 28, 

Thank you for not making a very difficult situation worse. 

Looking back, all the signs were there. On the way to the store, Sawyer said he didn't feel well. I carried him in and he felt warm. There were also storm clouds coming and impending rain somehow discombobulates him. (I realize that sounds crazy, but ask other Moms of Special Needs kids, I bet at least one will tell you the same.) Dick's is far enough away from home that once there, I did not want to leave without the lawn game Charlie had been begging for, the cheer shorts Josie needed for camp, a pair of cleats that were not falling apart for Lyra, and perhaps a basketball net for the pool.  At best, I should've postponed the trip for another day, at worst, I should have gotten in and out as quickly as possible, but I saw a friend.

If you Google the word, this is what you get:  Friend /frend/ noun - a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection.

If you ask me, this is what I would say:  A lifeline.  A person for whom I care about but am not in charge of raising.  Someone who knows my situation, my chaos, my neurotic tendencies yet, still likes me enough to talk to me anyway, usually in a kind and reassuring manner!

Stupidly, I talked to said friend for far longer than I should have. I know better, but sometimes my craving for contact with others beyond my kids is so strong that I get selfish.  I am that person who texts too much, needing to know there is life beyond my four walls and yet not enough time for a normal phone call or conversation.  The kids did fine initially.  Yes, I had all 5. (Should I start numbering the reasons this trip was a fail?)

The kids were getting restless and I figured it was time to get serious.  Charlie and Sawyer had played a game with a friend about two weeks ago.  Kuub or something.  Since then, Charlie has asked EVERY DAY if we could go buy it.  I refused, but then found an unused VISA gift card from Christmas which I could use to pay for it. I looked in every store in Carlisle with no luck. I promised the trip to Dick's to finally purchase the thing and get him off my back. 

I sent Lyra off to find some cleats, Josie off to look for her shorts after pulling up the email to see what colors were required, Tali was admiring herself in a baseball hat, and I went to see if they had this game that was invading my ability to have a conversation with my son about anything else!  I told the boys they could go to the putting green as that is the reason that Dick's is the sports store of choice.

While I was in aisle 258 looking at the dwindling supply of lawn games, Sawyer apparently whacked several golf clubs baseball style with the putter in his hand after losing a game to Charlie.  The winner ran up first stumbling over his words- from the sounds of it, Sauce had taken down the entire golf dept and perhaps tennis too. I sent one of the girls to surmise the damage and report back to me.  Sawyer glared at me when he arrived repeating, "Not Fair, Not Fair, Not Fair." He dropped to the floor in a ball and sat muttering to himself quietly while the rest of us debated the merits of a pool basketball hoop that also doubles as a volleyball net VS a more durable hoop that is twice the cost. The consensus was to wait, maybe they would go on sale.  I hated to do that to them, but at that moment, I had to agree.

Once that was decided and I was informed that there seemed to be no permanent damage to the store, it's merchandise, any employees or customers- I announced we were leaving.  I told Sawyer that he would need to come with me to apologize to the employees in the golf section of the store.  He said, "NO!" with a tone that exhausted me.  This was not going to be good.  

I am trying to keep from playing the Special Needs card with Sawyer.  He's the youngest, he's spoiled and so many times I don't have the energy to parent him the way I would my other kids. There, I said it!  I will own the fact that he gets away with shit because I am tired.  But, in an effort to hold him accountable, I've been working on leveling the playing field.  I told him again he would have to apologize.  He kicked off his slides in my direction.  Honestly, I don't know if they even hit me.  Josie asked for the keys and said she would take Sawyer to the car.  It would've been easier, yes, but I knew I should really follow through.  I gave her the keys and permission for any of the others to bail right then and there.  She was the only one who left.

I picked up Sawyer, (sometimes my ability to carry 50 lbs of dead weight impresses even me) and we walked toward the other side of the store.  I told the kids to meet us at the registers.  I didn't say anything until Sawyer asked where we were going.  I told him to apologize and again he said, "No."  I sent a quick plea to Mary, Jesus' Mom, for strength and continued through the store.

We arrived in the forest of clubs and all the employees were with customers.  I knew I didn't have much of a window so after a quick and calculated scan of my options, I went to the female employee at the counter who was talking to a woman about my age who looked like a Mom. They were in mid-conversation and I cringed knowing how annoying I was about to be, but I blurted, "Excuse me.  My son has something to say to you."  By the grace of God, they both looked at me and Sawyer with kind and gentle faces.  The sales girl raised her eyebrows and Sawyer lifted his head that had been buried in Frogs and Blanket on my shoulder and seethed "Sorry!"  with a stabbing hiss.  The two then looked at me for explanation and I explained, "I was on the other side of the store and Sawyer swung a club and hit some other clubs...all I really know is that he needed to apologize to someone."  

The girl said,  "Well, I work in shoes, this isn't my department.  Don't worry I'm sure it's fine."  So sweet, but I needed Sawyer to understand it wasn't completely fine.  The customer got it.  She said, "You know what?  It's not always easy to apologize and you did a great job.  I would probably be having a bad day too if I was in this cool store but had to shop for pink shorts!"  I realized then I was holding Josie's shorts in my hand.  I almost laughed.  I thanked them and headed to the front.

We were in line behind two people. I put him down which was a mistake.  Despite the quick transactions there was time for Sawyer to see the gum he wanted when we entered the store.  My foggy memory told me I had not promised the gum, but said "Maybe."  Not buying the gum would be the consequence for any of the other kids.  I stuck to my guns.  I told him he couldn't have the gum, perhaps next time. He said, "I want it now."

He immediately moved about 5 feet away and assumed the ball position at the entrance to the register.  At this point, Charlie was telling me that the sales girl told him he could order the game he wanted on line and it would come to the store.  It was too much to process.  Lyra handed me the cleats that she picked out, tried on, and was happy with and I put them on the counter.  I offhandedly asked her, "How much are these anyway?"  I hadn't even looked in the box, much less at the side.  "I don't know."  (Lyra is not super money conscious when I am footing the bill.)   Tali smiled sweetly and said, "Can I get the hat?"

As I'm looking at her and keeping tabs on Sawyer a manager walked by.   "Hey Buddy!  Are you okay?"  I smiled and said "He's fine, thank you."  He looked at me and I could see the wheels turning.  "Are you okay?" he said again, making a point to ask Sawyer and not me.  Everyone within earshot, looked at my nine year old child who was hugging his knees, rocking slightly, and quietly repeating the word "now." I know he was torn and I was trying to stay calm and forced a probably too cheerful smile and said, "No really.  We're good.  Thanks though."  Meanwhile, I was calculating the time it would take for him to call social services and if I could make it out of the parking lot before they arrived.

My child is not dumb, unfortunately at school this year, whenever he got loud, he was given what he wanted.  The repetition was endless and got a bit louder.  He wasn't yelling the word by any means, but it was a constant beating of the drum. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. 

I looked at the side of the box and saw what Lyra's cleats were going to cost me.  I looked at her and said, "This says $200. Are they on sale?"  "I don't know."  Now, seems an appropriate time to tell you that one of the things I was telling my friend at the beginning of this excursion was that I have had my eye on a tennis racket for the last six months, but $50 seemed a ridiculous amount to spend on something I wanted when the kids NEEDED things like shorts and cleats.  

I don't even know why I asked the girl to check the price, everyone there KNEW I was buying those cleats because at that moment, the box could have said $500 and I'm fairly certain I would've paid it for the reward of leaving the store and not needing to come back.  They were in fact $179 and somehow that made me feel slightly better.

As time ticked and Sawyer rocked, other customers came up to pay for their things.  Sawyer was blocking the walkway back to our register and I went over and picked him up.  

Still the throb in the background, "Now. Now. Now. Now. Now."  To the credit of the cashier, and the other workers in the vicinity, they played the game my kids have learned.  Pretend you don't hear a thing.  I threw about 13 coupons, offers, and my rewards card on the counter and said, "See what you can do for me."  She so patiently looked through everything and applied whatever discounts she could.

Sawyer gave me a louder "Now!" right in my face somewhere along the line.  I matter of factly said, "No."  He hauled off and punched me square in the throat. There was a time where I would've been bracing for a punch or a kick, but it's been a long time since Sawyer really hurt me so I was unprepared. Once I knew he did not crush my windpipe I sensed my kids concern, and just quietly said, "Do not hit me."  At this point it occurred to me that if that manger had called the police, maybe I would be considered the victim- I almost laughed which kept the tears from coming.

The bill came to $234 which seemed high, but I did not inherit my mother's math skills.  I didn't question the total as again, I would've paid almost anything to get out of there.   As I am writing this at 5:42 am, I went to get and double check the receipt.  She rang up Tali's $30 baseball hat (which Tali told me was $20) twice.  The fact that this was the only mistake in the midst of the exchange is impressive. 

Sawyer kicked his shoes off again and Tali matter of factly walked to pick them up almost as if we were in some sort of "After School Special."  The plight of a teenage girl with a single mom and a bunch of siblings, one with Special Needs. Like we were going to have to get on a bus to ride home and eat our TV dinners.  I realized once again, my kids aren't perfect, but they are good.  Even Charlie had abandoned the "can we order the game before we leave" idea.  Unfortunately or fortunately, they know the drill.  Mom needs to focus on Sawyer, don't make it harder for her.

We left the store as the drum beat got louder.  Perhaps he knew that he could release his frustration more in the open air, or maybe he felt the last possible seconds of gum slipping from his grasp.  As I crossed the threshold of the double doors, the monotone thump of "Now" became a relentless scream of "NOW!"  The kids and I walked silently to the car amid the screaming.  Someone opened the side door for me and I tried to put him in the seat.  Like a toddler, he immediately arched his back so I could not buckle him in.  Then he started to flail, but I was prepared and he did not get me too badly.  His next course of action was to start picking up things to throw out of the van, but I shut the door.  

I sat in the drivers seat and concentrated on breathing.  It's amazing how sometimes amid the screaming I can almost shut it all out to silence.  Hard to explain, but like you are watching a movie during a war scene and they cut off the volume.  Surreal.  Another exhale and the silence was shattered.  I told Sawyer I was not moving the car until he buckled.  That was when I noticed Charlie crying.  It's hard.  I need to get that child some help to deal with his brother, but that fire has not gotten big enough to cause more than a thought of "I need to..." here and there.  I am guessing that Josie who has a knack for getting Sawyer to comply got his seatbelt on.

The radio was off and the 20 minute car ride was silent except for the constant repetition of the word "now" which was slowly getting quieter and quieter.  As we turned onto our street, Tali looked back at him and whispered for me to look.  I did.

My child.  My sweet beautiful boy was lying with his head on the middle seat, sweaty, hair a mess, looking like any other exhausted 9 year old.  No noise was coming out of his mouth, but he continued to move his lips...."now."

I am grateful.  Grateful that we live in a world where people seem to have a better understanding of kids who have issues.  I know that it is certainly not always the case, but in this instance, today, in this store, I was treated with nothing but kindness and compassion.  The employees did not skip a beat, did not glare at me, did not yell at my kids, did not let on that we were anything but just another family on a trip to the sports store.  So thank you Dick's for the understanding.  This is meant to be a compliment, so don't take it as a threat.  We will be back!

Sincerely,

The weary single mom of 5 athletic kids who always seem to need something

The Last First Communion

One of the most memorable homilies I ever heard was the one given by Father P. for Tali and Josie's First Communion.  It was at our local church attached to the Catholic School they attended at the time in Virginia.

Father P. attended Mount Saint Mary's Seminary in Emmitsburg, Md.  As MSM College (now University) is my Alma Mater, I was already a fan.  After the sermon he gave for the First Communion masses, I was even more impressed.

He spoke about a sign on the sacristy wall of the St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Basilica. It says, "Priest of God, celebrate this Mass as if it were your first Mass, your last Mass, your only Mass."  He modified it to speak of receiving Holy Communion.  He told the kids they should "Receive every Holy Communion as if it is your First Holy Communion, your Last Holy Communion, your Only Holy Communion."  I thought it was such a poignant idea.  Many times, the Eucharist becomes such a habit, we just take it for granted and don't use the reverence we should.

Fast forward seven years.  Sawyer was in 2nd grade for the second year in a row. Having a Special Needs child can be overwhelming at times.  Although Sawyer is very high functioning, his autism demands additional needs; for example, IEP meetings, behavior therapy in the home, feeding clinic appointments, and the day to day struggle of trying not to meltdown when it is inappropriate.  Take sports for instance.  Sawyer knows that boys his age are not supposed to cry when they strike out, but the frustration of not performing is overwhelming and he loses it. He knows that his peers don't have a problem with loud and rowdy kids in the school cafeteria, but the over stimulation of many noises (in this case, voices) coming from several directions causes him to lose his ability to do anything besides curl up in a ball and hold his hands over his ears.

Last year, Sawyer and I attended the first two CCD classes with the Communion group.  There were about 20 kids and one teacher.  As I have to accompany Sawyer to most activities, it was mistakenly thought that I would be the aide as I would be there anyway.  Uhhhh, it doesn't work that way.  When Sawyer is in full meltdown mode, I can do nothing but deal with Sawyer.  And even when there is not nuclear combustion going on, I really need to focus on him.  Needless to say, I pulled him and we "homeschooled" CCD.  Homeschooling CCD meant walking the other kids to the church for classes and finding an empty classroom to watch a Bible Video.  I found a series which had a quiz at the end, so I could trick myself into believing he was actually learning something.

When we moved East and Sawyer was in 2nd grade again, I was assured there were at least three 2nd grade CCD classes.  I was thankful for the small class size and felt much more confident about his "Sacramental Year."  When we arrived for the first class, I was told the three teachers had decided to join forces and teach one big class.  You can imagine my delight at such a prospect.  But, I was assured that there were three teachers and at least three aides with the 30-40 kids in the class.  More importantly, no one was expecting me to do anything, but sit with Sawyer. That, I was relatively sure I could do.

We attended the majority of classes and on occasion, Sawyer actually participated.  When it was time to recite his prayers to ensure he knew them, we played fill in the blank.   "Our _____, who ___ in _______," You get the idea.  I had spoken with the Priest, actually two of them at our new Parish and was assured it would be okay.  I wasn't sure he'd be able to receive his Sacraments at all, but one priest remarked that sometimes Special Needs kids are almost more deserving of Grace from The Lord.  I was feeling pretty good.

And then it was time for Confession.  Kids typically make their First Confession several weeks before their First Communion.  We went to classes and we practiced.  We made a cheat sheet with the class and practiced.  We said our prayers and we practiced.  The big day came....and went.  He did not want to go when his class was going.  As I had already experienced taking a teary eyed and terrified child (Josie) to her First Confession while all the parents and the entire 2nd grade class watched, I was not anxious to do it again.  I had already spoken with the Priest about doing it quietly in his office some day.  And that's exactly what we did.  Sawyer was not overly responsive and didn't say hardly anything, but Father W. took a very smart approach and asked Sawyer a series of "yes" or "no" questions so Sauce could nod or shake his head to own up to any of his sins.  If there were any off the beaten track sins, they were grouped in with the others.  I'm certain that God had it covered.  For the record:  I was to keep my eyes closed as Sawyer was sitting on my lap.  I may or may not have peeked just a bit.

As we were leaving, I asked the Priest if he would tell the Religious Ed Director that Sawyer had indeed made his First Confession as he would not be able to take Communion until the former was done.  He smiled and said, "No."  I was like, "Whatdya mean 'no?' You're kidding right?"  He shook his head. "A Priest cannot tell anyone who has gone to confession."  I'm thinking, Seriously?  I coulda lied and no one would have ever.....shoot, never-mind.

We got over the precursor hurdle and suddenly it was the week of Josie's Confirmation and Sawyer's First Communion, because the Catholic Church is all about cramming in these two Sacraments before Matrimony season starts.  Poor Josie got next to no fanfare for her Thursday night event. Not only was she one of just a couple 9th graders getting Confirmed (because in Pennsylvania they Confirm in 8th grade and in Kansas they Confirm in 9th), but Sawyer's possible Communion was sucking up all my energy and anxiety.

The Big Day arrived.  May 9th, 2015.  I remember thinking as I woke up, this could really go either way.  In fact, I could think of about 107 scenarios of the day playing out with only a handful of them not being horrific.  Sawyer was certainly not willing to try on any clothes the weeks or even the night before.  I was measuring pants against the jeans he wore to school that week and shirts against the long sleeve Minecraft T-shirts that he donned on a daily basis.  By the grace of God, I was able to get him dressed and everything fit relatively well.  He did remind me, "I hate shirts with buttons." and "I will NOT wear a tie!"  Eventually, we left the house with him in khakis, a button-down shirt, clip-on tie, navy blazer, dark socks and loafers. I don't even attempt this much formality at a family wedding.  He was not happy, but surprisingly calm.

It was set up so the First Communicants would process in, making a full lap around the pews so parents and relatives could snap pictures at every possible camera angle before the kids made their way down the main aisle once again and sat in the first several pews of the church.  It took about 6.2 seconds for Sawyer to determine at rehearsal that he was having none of this parading around business. Not. Doing. It.  That was more than fine with me.  As far as I was concerned that meant less could go wrong. The Religious Education Director had a few pews set aside for kids that would do better sitting with their families.  We were in one of those pews.  However, even though Sawyer wasn't processing in, we still had to be there quite early.  Waiting, as you can imagine, especially for something that he is nervous about, is not Sawyer's forte.  Add in my four other kids whose seating arrangements required for maximum good behavior could be an SAT question (The Carlton's are going to sit together in church.  B Cha must sit on an end.  Lyra cannot sit next to B Cha or Tali.  Josie must sit on an end...) add in other family members and dynamics and we were a puddle of gas praying no one close by needed a smoke!

FINALLY, church began and the kids started their march down the aisle.  You could definitely pick out the future attention seeking brides vs the ones that would rather arrive at the alter in the middle of a ring of bridesmaids.  There were a handful of extremely prayerful young men...and the other 37 were a caricature of 8 year old boys whose Mothers had just spit on a tissue attempting to clean the chocolate pop tart off their face.

Mass was progressing along with only peppered interruptions from Sawyer, who inquired regularly on any updates re: Eastern Standard Time, while in turn providing notifications re: hunger, starvation, and impending dehydration. He had lost the sports coat at some point, but I didn't even notice until he looked at me with a rage that would've made Linda Blair shake and said, "I. Said. No. Ties."  It
required ever fiber of my being to not look back at him like a crazy woman and respond, "And. I. Said. No. Wire. Hangers."  True story.

The moment of truth arrived.  All the "neuro-typical" kids went to the alter and received the Body of Christ.  It was our turn.  I walked up the aisle on Sawyer's right side, and everything slurred together. We made it to the alter, the wonderful priest smiled at me, his eyes twinkling, I'm sure the suspense was killing him too.  I put my hands out and Sawyer mimicked me.  Father W. said, "The Body of Christ."  And I THINK Sawyer responded "Amen," but to be honest he could have said, "And also with you," and I wouldn't have noticed.  He took the host and placed it in his mouth!  Did you get that?  HE TOOK THE HOST AND PLACED IT IN HIS MOUTH!  If you are not Catholic, it is important to understand that when we, as Catholics, receive communion, we believe it to be the actual Body of Christ.  This is a huge deal and him going through with it, was enough for me to hear a chorus of angels singing the Easter Alleluia as I walked back to the pew. Tears, real tears were streaming down my cheeks.  A Momma could not have ever been prouder.

We knelt after communion and I praised God and thanked Jesus for getting both of us through this.  I was interrupted from my worship when Sawyer grabbed my arm in a strangle hold.  I looked at him, "What?"  He had a very strange look on his face and he started to open his mouth several times.  He pointed at his mouth. Like a properly trained mother, I obeyed and cupped my hand under his chin. What happened next was beyond any of those 107 scenarios I had feared.  He spit the well chewed wafer into my hand!  I was stunned and in shock for a good 19 seconds, before I pulled my hand back to examine the contents.  

Praying that he had somehow swallowed the host before ingesting and depositing a chewed up peanut butter cracker in my palm, I gazed down.  I will spare you the gory details, but what I was holding was no mystery.  I said, "Sawyer!  Whaaaa?" He looked at me blankly and said, "I have to go to the bathroom."  The noise that came from me must have been odd.  Josie looked over Sawyer's head and gave me a questioning look.  I turned my wrist slightly so she could see what I was holding while not spilling any of the puddle.  Her face contorted as she mentally put the pieces together of what could possibly be in my hand.  I now know exactly what the person who came up with the light bulb going off scenario was talking about.  I believe I saw a spark fire out of her ear.  She turned to Lyra and the whispers went westward down the pew.  As each child heard the news they looked at me with a "Say it ain't so Momma!" glance that I could only return with a small lift of my right hand.  Keep in mind that the families and friends of all the Communicants were still coming up the aisle, meaning, I could not leave my seat. As friends tapped me on the shoulder to wave or whisper "Hi" as they walked by, I plastered on a smile worthy of wedding photos.  Also, I kept my right hand out of view.

Hours (or possibly just a few minutes) later, as the last attendee passed, I grabbed Sawyer and said, "Let's go."  We walked up the aisle to the narthex and the bathrooms.  One of the CCD teachers was at the doorway and was so excited, "He did it!"  I reluctantly showed her my hand and I think she threw up in her mouth a little before saying, "Well, Momma, it's time to take one for the team."  I whimpered, "I have to don't I?"  Her nod was clear.  I nudged Sawyer into the Men's room and I went into the Ladies.  Again, if you are not Catholic, you must understand desecration of the host is a mortal sin.  It is akin to desecrating the body of Jesus.  The only option I had was ingesting the host myself.  I did.  I shall spare us both the details of that experience.

Please know, that this was a very pivotal moment for me as a Catholic.  Seriously. I briefly debated the alternatives before recognizing that I had no doubt what I needed to do.  It was not enjoyable.  Perhaps saying that is a sin, I hope not.  But I am happy with the decision I made.  There was no time to second guess myself as I now needed to get Sawyer back down to our pew before mass ended.  I'm not sure why that was so important at the moment, but it was.

I cracked the door of the Men's room and said, "Sauce?"  A booming voice (which did NOT belong to my eight year old son) came back, "Someone's in here!"  I enlisted the help of a teenage boy we knew.  I begged him to go in and see what was up.  He came out smiling and said, "He couldn't undo his belt."  Are you kidding me?  I had gone through an entire examination of my conscience and discernment of my faith and he hadn't gone to the bathroom yet?!?  Unbelievable.  I waited, suddenly having an inkling of what purgatory must feel like, until he came out, shirt untucked belt unbuckled, pants 1/2 way zipped.  I put him back together a la Clark Kent into Superman and rushed him down the aisle.  As we sat down the Priest and Clergy stood to process out.  Phew.

I vaguely remember walking to the parish activity center and the beginnings of a reception.  Sawyer wanted nothing to do with the crowd and honestly, neither did I.  I did chug a glass of punch though.

Five weeks have passed since that fateful Saturday.  Each week I have Sawyer walk down the aisle next to me.  Each week we arrive at the Priest and he gives Sawyer a "What'll it be?" look.  And each week so far, Sawyer has given the slightest shake of his head.  The Priest tells me not to worry.  I should continue to bring him up each week and someday he will Receive.  It may be the 27th time, it may be the 87th, it may even be the 147th, but it is important to give him the chance.

I don't know how long it will take.  Only God knows that.  And perhaps Sawyer.  In the meantime, I tell myself it is okay because Sawyer did Receive his First Holy Communion as if it was his First Holy Communion, His Last Holy Communion, His Only Holy Communion.


Editors note:  Today, December 5, 2015 marks the 30th week since Sawyer's First Holy Communion.  He has yet to take the host again.

The Results Are In!

The first day of school is always one for a bit of angst. Kids are growing, sometimes changing interests and friends, maybe moving on to the local middle or high school. Parents are watching their kids grow up, getting closer to leaving home. Some parents have a problem with this part. Me? Not so much. 



Regardless, the first day of school for military kids is tougher than most kids could imagine. I won't go into it all, because there are 1000 blogs out there that will tell you what it means to be a Military Brat. They can explain to you how hard it is to register your child in a new school district who has different history courses different years, how requirements are different for taking honors classes, how it's hard to get into student council if you missed last springs elections, not to mention the difficulty of being the new kid AGAIN!



I am just here to tell you how my kids did today. Sadly, I was a basket case yesterday and much of today. It's not that I don't have faith in my kids, it's just that they have fragile hearts. (Some more fragile than others) and I just want them to be happy and to like themselves for who they are. It's a lesson I'm still working on at 46. I sure hope they manage to learn faster than me.





From the bottom up, here's how it went:


Sawyer, who is repeating second grade due to his early August birthday and the challenges he has with autism, had a decent day. His teacher and a member of the special ed team (I think) came out to tell me what a great day he had. He took a few breaks. Lunch went well, PE was a challenge, but all in all, pretty good. He did not say it was "bad" which has been his go-to answer for the question "How was school today?" the last three years running, so I figure that is fantastic! Also, he has not yet refused to go back tomorrow. "WINNING!"





Charlie, who is repeating fourth grade due to his late September birthday and the challenges he has with maturity, had a fun day. He met a friend, they ran together at PE class and listened to the directions which were to not stop running. The boys who ran really fast and stopped after one lap were out because they didn't do it right. Therefore, when one of them stated that they should not have been called out of the game, Charlie jumped right into say how wrong they were. Nothing like pissing off the kids who can run faster than you on the first day of school! Perhaps I should add "muzzle" to next years' school supply list. Geez, kid. I can tell him til I'm blue in the face not to get into it with people when it's not important, but he will never learn. The best part of his new class is that there is a boy in his class who just moved to the US from....wait for it.....keeping in mind one of his best friends last year....you guessed it.....AUSTRALIA!!! AND his name is Charlie! And he is from the town of....drumroll please.....CARLTON! Too funny!



Charlie's best quotes of the day:



Talking about his new friend Charlie, "Hey, wouldn't it be funny if he had to write the sentence, 'Charlie is from Carlton' and he forgot to write the words 'is' and 'from' so he would just write my name. I mean, that would just be so crazy!"


"I think the other Charlie's last name is Stuart.  Hmmm, Stew....ahhrt (sounding it out ridiculously).  Yep, sounds Australian!  Must be it."



Also, this morning, he told me what 27 items he packed for lunch and then said, "Oh, and a mint! This is a good idea because it is sort of like a desert, but will make my breath smell minty after lunch!" Sigh.



Lyra had a day that would have been totally awesome if "totally awesome" was a phrase used by cool, unphased kids, who work hard to act like they don't care. She smiled her trademark 'I will not show my teeth in a smile until I get into and out of braces' smirk. "It was good!" She said. She talked about her science teacher (funny), art teacher (strict), lunch (stuck at a table with a bunch of boys, but with her cousin thank goodness). She talked more, but it have to admit that during that time I was trying to calculate exactly how long I could wait to see if the other girls got home before I had to leave to pick up the boys. But it was good. She came home happy and talked to me at length which is always a good sign for her. Sadly, I missed a lot of it, but I got the high points...there is a beach party next week and a lot of girls wore spaghetti straps today probably because they aren't really enforcing the dress code yet, so she will be wearing a sleeveless shirt tomorrow. (NOTE TO SELF: Throw an extra shirt in the car so when I get a call from school that Lyra is not dressed properly, I can drop that off after dropping off the boys and save an extra trip across town!)


Josie, sweet Josie. I don't know which of us was more worried about her day. I was able to wait until I saw the bus up the street before I went to pick up the boys. I drove up the connecting street and stopped. I rolled down the window and Josie was like a moth to a flame. When asked how it was, she smiled her 'I don't want to admit that it was good, because maybe I'm remembering it wrong' smile and said, "Okay, I guess." I said, "Was it absolutely horrible?" "No." "Did you cry?" (Her goal for the day was to not cry) "No!" "Well, look at you girlfriend! You did it!" Then I got the 'I really want to believe you, but I can't quite get there, but I want to be happy' look. I asked if she wanted to ride with me to get the boys and she declined saying she needed to work on her cheers before practice. (Little did we know they had changed the time for practice and she was in the midst of missing the first hour). Talking with her later was a mix of "things went okay" and "they are expecting too much" and "I'll never be able to keep up" and "I had someone to sit with at lunch" (I said a silent prayer of thanks) and finally, "I just don't like high school, I'm not ready."


Meanwhile after stopping them on the street and asking if Josie wanted to ride with me, Tigger, I mean Tali bounced across the road and said, "I'll come!" I wasn't sure what to expect. The next 15 minutes were incredibly funny and exhausting and heart melting all at once. She opened her mouth and this is what came out: "Oh my gosh, it was SO fun, I mean I can't wait to go back, really, I'd go back right now, but that would be silly, but really it was that fun so I can't wait til tomorrow, but I know in a few months I won't feel this way, but really, all days of school should be the first day of school, so here's what happened first, we have assigned seats on the bus and they didn't have our names on the list and Josie was worried but I didn't care and Gabbys not on our bus but I sat with so and so and we went to homeroom and the teacher was all "don't bother me and he put his head on the desk, he may have gone to sleep..."


"Like Mr, Schneebly?" I asked.


"Oh my gosh that's so funny! EXACTLY like that and then I had to go to history and so I walked with Josie part way and I think that's when we saw Sarah and I have history with so and so and so and so and it's gonna be a great class and the teacher is cool and said we can bring coffee and breakfast to class and I totally wish there was a Starbucks near school..."


"Because you are in such desperate need of caffeine? I know, I'm worried that you may have low blood pressure."


"No LISTEN, I totally knew where I was and everyone liked my outfit and safety ed is a joke, I mean, I think I'm the only half motivated person in there and I'm gonna be really smart in Spanish but that may be just cuz I knew what she was saying because it was written on a poster in the back of the room and there is a special needs boy that sits next to me so I hope the other kids don't think they'll mess with him because I will totally be his protector, I didn't even have to ask anyone how to get anywhere and then I had to go back to the other building and I was in all my classes on time and was never late and I didn't even have to run and lunch is SO short, I mean how do they expect me to eat anything in like two minutes..."


"Um, was the lunch period 2 minutes or is that how long you were somehow able to stop talking in order to attempt to consume some nutrition?"


"Mooooommmmm, so then in chemistry, there was this boy....."


Apparently, Tali has already aced the "like yourself" lesson....eh, good for her! Maybe I taught one of them right!

It's Raining, It's Pouring

We made it to mass on time last Saturday.  Really. It was amazing.  I got to give B Cha a kiss on the head before he carried one of the large candles down the aisle and I got to hear Tali and the choir sing the opening song.  A rare event indeed. 

I would like to blame our recurring lateness on Sawyer dragging his feet, but it's pretty much my chronic tardiness that causes it.  Perhaps because I don't allow enough time to get a begrudging Sawyer ready.

But Saturday, this past Saturday, we were golden.  Sawyer's therapist, who comes with us to mass most weeks, had bought him a new activity book to work on.  He was sitting in the pew so content, so quiet, that I really thought it was going to be a good night.

Shortly after the opening prayer, the priest announced that he would be doing something different than the Penitential Act which is usually one of the first prayers.  "I confess to Almighty God..."

Although my father had no idea when I was relaying this story to him, Wikipedia actually knew what I was talking about:

"On Sundays, especially in the Season of Easter, in place of the customary Penitential Act, from time to time the Blessing and Sprinkling of Water to recall Baptism may take place."^[4]

This may have had something to do with the fact that I was telling him the Priest was going to do a different "penitentiary act" which would perhaps make sense since we live at Ft. Leavenworth.

Regardless, what the Priest was going to do was sprinkle the congregation with Holy Water.  This may not seem like it is worth mentioning, no big deal, except it is a big deal when you have a child with Autism.  A VERY big deal!  The last time the Holy Water was brought out was around Christmas perhaps...honestly I don't remember, but I remember the panic that rose in my chest when the Priest (who is new) and the Deacon (who knows us well) reached the end of the main aisle and turned to walk around the back and up the side aisles. 

+++Authors Note: We sit on the left side of the aisle (which in itself is still odd to me because growing up my family always, ALWAYS sat on the right and it wasn't until a particularly difficult Mass which left me in tears during Charlie's first deployment from here about 5 years ago, that I abandoned my long standing rule and moved left to sit behind my good friend for support.) Now we sit on the far left side of the left side of the church, near the back.   This makes for easy escapes with Sawyer and minimal distractions to anyone behind us as there is certainly plenty of room in front of us if they would rather not watch my children spiral into a fist fight during the Kiss of Peace.+++

Back to the story at hand: The last Holy Water event, had Deacon on our side of the church.  So when he rounded the back corner and started up the side aisle, all I had to do was look at him with fear in my eyes and give a slight shake of my head.  He immediately "got it" and adjusted his flick of the
aspergillum (yes, I looked it up) so that Sawyer did not get wet at all.  I realize this is not the intended result of the ceremony, but believe me when I say, it was best for everyone involved.

Our current Priest has only been her a few months and while he knows that Sawyer has Autism, I'm not sure he knows Sawyer well enough to be able to anticipate his reactions.  So when he was the only one sprinkling the water I foolishly assumed that he certainly wouldn't take the time to go ALL THE WAY around the church.  (We only have an hour)  I was mistaken.  As he turned the back corner and started our way, I knew that bulging my eyes out would not convey to him the message, "Please, I beg of you, don't get Sawyer wet, it could take the rest of mass to recover from that.  Plus, he's got a brand new book and if you get that wet he is liable to throw it at you, or me, and never touch it again and I know his therapist just spent a significant amount of money on it."  Unfortunately, the universal sign of STOP, a swift swipe of my hand across my throat did not seem appropriate for the environment.

The water flew in slow motion.  I swear I could see the droplets in the air as the headed for and landed on Sawyer, his head, his neck, his brand new book open to a crisp white page which now smudged the circle he just made.  My heart stopped.  I braced myself for the scream...which didn't come.  (Thank you God, You are so good to me.)

But the Priest had not moved on, he was smiling at the back of Sawyer's head, he could not see the look I was getting with eyes full of Satan himself.  I saw his hand go back into the aspersorium (I looked that one up too) and he showered us a second time!  A SECOND TIME!  Father had a big smile on his face obviously oblivious to the possible outcomes of such a scenario.  This apparently struck the people behind us, who were visiting, as funny too.  "Well, he's reading a book.  Father is just trying to make him pay attention."

Deep breath.  And again.  Sawyer was annoyed.  A bit angry even. (Completely understandable in my opinion) But thankfully, not furious. We had dodged a pretty large bullet...actually, many many tiny ones, but we were good.  Everyone survived, Sawyer's book was still usable in his eyes, and all was relatively well with the world.

I spent the next 10 minutes of mass trying to deal with my conflicting feelings of how do you celebrate Mass and be a good person when you are angry with the Priest saying Mass?  I could get over the initial sprinkling, but I felt that the second round was mearly for his amusement which is really not fair. 

The discussion I was having with God in my head was so intense at one point that it took me a moment to realize that while Tali and the choir were singing the responsorial psalm, the sound system went haywire and there was a horrible screeching noise coming through the speakers.  Mother of the year did not even think immediately of Sawyer's ears.  I was thinking more about how loud it was for Tali on the alter and how quickly it was giving me a headache.  As the Priest bend down and unplugged something that stopped the unbelievable noise, I suddenly thought of Sawyer.  He had his head down, was covering his ears, and his face was contorted to a level of pain rarely seen on someone who isn't bleeding profusely.

Thankfully, his therapist snatched him up and got him out of there.  I listened for the screams, but heard none.  Apparently, the whole chain of events was such that he could muster was whimpering and shaking.  He spent the rest of the Mass in the narthex (That one I knew on my own!). 

I have to trust that God knows that I do my best to get him there, and to keep him there.  And some days are just better than others.

End note:  It was later in the Mass that I had looked into the narthex and saw that Sawyer was calmed down for the most part.  I walked back to the pew to see B Cha lifting the large book off the alter for the Priest to read from.  As he stood, holding the book in front of him, the Priest looked a bit confused.  It was then that the Deacon walked over and turned the book rightside up. 

And there was God's answer:  We all make mistakes! 

Throw Back Thursday

So, here's the conversation:

Me:  Sawyer, did you throw your milk at the lunch lady today? (It had been written in his journal)

Sawyer: NOOOOO!!!!! (Very emphatically)

Me:  Hmmmmmm.

Sawyer:  I DIDN'T!

Me: Okay, did your milk happen to slip out of your hand today?

S: Yes (begrudgingly)

Me:  did it slip in the direction of the lunch lady?

S: Yes (begrudgingly)

M: (quick silent prayer) Was it open? (Please say no, please say no, please say no...)

S: Noooooooooo (he may as well have added "duh!")

M: (Oh thank you God!).  Can you tell me why the milk slipped out of your hand in her direction?

S:  I am SO tired of strawberry yogurt!

M: (of course, that makes perfect sense....NOT) Sawyer, I don't understand.

S: I wanted vanilla!

M: Sawyer, you can't throw your milk at the lunch lady because she is out of vanilla! What happened next?

S:  I don't remember.

M:  Well, you either went to Miss Bs room, the principals office or ate in the cafeteria.

S: Just stop asking me questions now.

M: I'll stop if you don't throw milk at the lunch lady again

S:  mmmmmmmmmm

M: Okay Mom.

S:  MMMMMMMMMMMMMM

M: Okay Mom.

S: OKAY MOM!!!!! (so completely not meaning it)