This Month’s Miracles:

  • Evan initiated a ‘high-five’ with me and actually said ‘five’. Amazing!
  • Evan ran up to Tessa and wrapped his arms around her – he said ‘hug’ while doing so!
  • Normally, we leave Mammie and Gramps house through the garage door.  However, the other day we left through the front door. Evan recognized that we were leaving and said ‘bye’ numerous times.
  • Evan has been saying ‘uh-na’ and ‘tessssssssa’….his sisters names!
  • While running through the apartment (his primary self-stimulatory behavior), he yelled ‘run’!  He was so excited…and so was I!
  • Evan reached up to give Jesse a hug at bedtime. Then wrapped his arms around his neck and squeezed.  Evan requests a lot of hugs and receives them, but ‘giving’ hugs is a little more rare. So special…
  • Evan moved up from the nursery to the preschool room at church! The big boy definitely enjoyed the new toys and was a pleasant addition to the classroom.
  • Evan started school. By the second day, he walked right on the bus with no problems. He seems to be enjoying his days and napping a little better in the afternoons. I think they may be wearing him out a little!

Overall, there have been quite a few words at random this month. Here are some goals that I am going to work for this month:

  • Use a PECS card for the school bus to show Evan where we are going and help him to learn that word. Figure out the sign language for it too and start using it!
  • Evan tends to wander during meal and snack times. I really want to nip this particular behavior.  At dinner, we will be continually sitting him back in his seat and prompting him to say or sing ‘all done’ when finished.
  • Gather and read resources regarding potty training children with autism. Evan has been tugging at his diaper, because it is uncomfortable. I feel this may be a sign to start moving in that direction.
  • I have been working on my ‘alone time’.  Each morning for several weeks, I have been able to set time aside to read my Bible and a small devotional. I really want to add exercise into this routine, because I want to be healthier. I know it seems like this goal doesn’t relate to Evan, but I am learning that I need some ‘me-time’.  Especially, since most of my time is ‘kid time’ or ‘work time’ or a myriad of other responsabilities!

If you think of us and are praying, then I’ve got a request. I’ve been feeling that God wants us to pray that our kids, and especially Evan, that they are fertile soil. The parable of the sower is typically meant to signify the way that different people respond to the gospel – we can be rocky soil, weedy soil or fertile soil.  I just really feel called to pray that my kids will be fertile soil for the right things – that the things we are trying to teach them and working towards will flourish and grow and take root in their hearts!

 

 

 

 

The Happiest Boy

May 29, 2011

This week my Monday spiraled out of control.  I took Evan to the first day of his evaluations for the school system.  These are done while a group of 5-6 kids participates in two days of pre-school classes.  The speech and occupational therapist, as well as a school psychologist evaluate the children through the morning. 

Eager mother that I am, I arrived 20 minutes early.  As the other children arrived, Evan came and sat on my lap.  He made his usual happy and excited noises.  Of course, the other children (who are also developmentally delayed) were all talking.  I saw the parents looking askance at us and I knew what they were thinking. 

Perhaps my son (or daughter) isn’t as behind as I thought! 

And, of course, I was thinking:

Wow, he’s so much further behind than I thought!

Obviously, discouragement was knocking on my door. 

When I arrived home that evening, I got the mail and opened a large, letter envelope from the organization First Steps.  First Steps completed Evan’s yearly evaluation last week and I knew these were the results.  There are five developmental areas listed in their evaluation: gross motor skills, fine motor skills, social, communication/language and cognitive.  The rating scale spans from -20 (severly delayed) to zero (developing normally).   When I saw the scale, I groaned internally. 

Can we not evaluate this like movies – 5 stars for developing normally and 1 star for delayed!  At least he would be getting stars instead of NEGATIVE numbers!! 

Sighing, I proceeded to the next page which detailed Evan’s scores.

-20 Cognitive, -20 Social, -15 Language, -9 Fine Motor Skills and developing normally in gross motor skills.

At least he can be a professional athelete.

I was fairly close to despair.  Wishing and longing, yet again, for ABA therapy – the most effective ‘treatment’ for autism. 

I went to bed and dreamed that I was a secret agent chasing down ABA therapists (have to love that subconscious mind, right?).

The next morning, I woke up and light was streaming through the blinds and making my covers warm.  I smiled a little bit and thought about God bringing joy in the morning.  As I was lying there, I felt God speaking to me.  He was telling me to forget about my circumstances for today.  So I determined that I wouldn’t pray, think or talk about my circumstances for the rest of the day. 

During my bath, I read a book about strengthening myself in God.  It detailed the effects of negative thinking.  In life, there is always a struggle.  If we focus on these struggles, then they consume us.  If we focus on God, then He consumes us.  Hmmm….

Consumed by God vs. Consumed by Struggle. 

I choose God. 

On my way to Evan’s evaluation, I worshiped, instead of thinking about all of our struggles.  It was an awesome time and I had a feeling that God was ‘consuming’ me.

We arrived about five minutes early and most of the other kids were there as well.  Another little boy in the evaluations started jumping up and down. 

Mom, Mom!  He’s cool!!!

I looked around, thinking he was talking about someone else only to discover that Evan was the only other boy there.  I smiled.  The boy ran over and said hi to Evan.  Evan smiled.  Then, the little boy looked up at me and I’m sure I’ll never forget his words.

He’s my friend.

As I walked back out to the car, I was misty-eyed.  I knew God was consuming me now.  I was filled with joy for the first time in so long.

The sun was shining.

I went grocery shopping (and found some amazing deals on grass-fed beef!).  When I returned to pick Evan up, the school psychologist was holding his hand.  The other children were running to their parents and Evan followed them, even though he hadn’t seen me.  This was monumental since he rarely imitates other children.  I knelt down and he saw me.  Made eye contact.  And gave me one of the best hugs. 

As I stood up, the school pyschologist walked over.  I asked her how things had gone.  She said he did well and told me about the conference for his Individualized Education Plan (IEP) in June.  I said goodbye and started to walk away, but she grabbed my arm.  I turned around to face her and she put her hand on my shoulder. 

I just want to tell you that Evan is one of the happiest boys I have seen in years. You should be commended.

To which I replied:

No, God Should Be Commended!

Today, I was glad that God reminded me of my circumstances.

I write this as my day is drawing to a close and am reminded of my favorite poem, which continually reminds me of why I love God and the music He helps me to create.  It is by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.  It was introduced to me by one of my eighth grade teachers, Roberta Hite, who, I believe, may have read this blog a time or two (and certainly deserves a shout out for the many students she has produced with a love for writing). I wonder if she will remember this poem from one of our school books!

The Day Is Done

The day is done, and the darkness

Falls from the wings of Night,

As a feather is wafted downward

From an eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village

Gleam through the rain and the mist,

And a feeling of sadness comes o’er me

That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing,

That is not akin to pain,

And resembles sorrow only

As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem,

Some simple and heartfelt lay,

That shall soothe this restless feeling,

And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,

Not from the bards sublime,

Whose distant footsteps echo

Through the corridors of Time.

For, like strains of martial music,

Their mighty thoughts suggest

Life’s endless toil and endeavor;

And to-night I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,

Whose songs gushed from his heart,

As showers from the clouds of summer,

Or tears from the eyelids start;

Who, through long days of labor,

And nights devoid of ease,

Still heard in his soul the music

Of wonderful melodies.

Such songs have power to quiet

The restless pulse of care,

And come like the benediction

That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume

The poem of thy choice,

And lend to the rhyme of the poet

The beauty of thy voice.

And the night shall be filled with music

And the cares, that infest the day,

Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,

And as silently steal away.

A Dream Like State

March 18, 2011

Every morning my oldest daughter, Arianna, sky rockets out of her room at around 6:30 am with her hands in the air singing, “It’s morning time!”  She is full of life and energy.  Most mornings I get up and close the door behind her so that Evan and Tessa can sleep more. 

This morning, however, I woke up to someone climbing into my bed.  I smiled and said, “Good morning, Aria.”  When no one responded I opened my eyes to see Evan sitting next to me.  He was facing the opposite direction so I couldn’t see his face.  In surprise, I said “Hi, Buddy!”  No response.  I laid back down and stared at him, thinking that I wished I could know what he was thinking.  Then, very slowly he reached over and grabbed my index finger.  We sat in silence for several minutes, with him just holding my finger.  It was one of my better ‘mom’ moments.  Even though we can’t talk yet – we still communicate. 

I just love him so much.  I long for the day when he will say, “I love you, Mom.”  Perhaps people think that is a long shot, but I don’t.  Mornings like these tell me otherwise.  There is hope.  This morning he could have done any number of autistic behaviors instead of sitting with me in bed.  But he didn’t.  He just wanted to be with me.  

Thank you, God – for this special moment.