Exciting New Things

Well, the new things aren't really that new anymore, but they're new since my last post.

I'm going to have to separate this into sections by person because there's lots to cover.


Sean

Sean started preschool in late September through a government program that helps speech-delayed kids catch up before starting school.  He's in the same place that his brother was for the last two years so it's very familiar to us.  He absolutely loves it there, and his speech has been improving by leaps and bounds!  (He was assessed a few months ago and rated in the 5th percentile.  This means that 19 out of twenty kids his age have better speaking skills.)

He knows his entire alphabet at three and a half years old.  He can actually sound out and read some three- and four-letter words.  We've got him doing some preschool video games on his brother's Ipad, which seem to be helping him to learn basic reading skills.  It also makes him feel a little less left out where the fun Ipad his brother always gets to use is concerned.


Derek

My husband has been insanely busy at work lately.  They lost two experienced people in the space of a week in late August, (one got another job, the other had a baby and is now on maternity leave) and when you combine that with the busiest fall his department has ever seen what you get is lots of overtime and not much time at home with the family.  But he's home every night and every weekend so we still get to see much more of Derek than many families do their fathers and husbands.

Noah

Lots and lots and lots has happened since my last post!  Noah got approved for government funding for an aide to come to the house to do therapy, as well as 4 hours a month each of speech therapy and occupational therapy.  The process was surprisingly painless and not too terribly long.  We got more services than we really thought we could ever get.

Noah started Kindergarten in September.  I don't have details but I think he kind of freaked out the staff on the first day.  We thought that being in two full days a week might be too much for him and it was suggested that Noah attend four half-days instead.  (I was against this idea because it would mean that we were deciding to hold Noah back to repeat Kindergarten, and we'd be deciding that just as he started!  I wasn't against the idea of him being held back alltogether, but I did think some more time was necessary to make that decision.)  He actually settled in very quickly and that whole idea was scrapped  by October.  Which makes me very happy, of course!  Noah has a full-time aide who works just with him, one-on-one, to help him integrate with the class and transition between activities.

Noah's home aide comes over on the three days a week he's not in school.  She's here for three hours each of those days.  We're seeing some good progress on his self-help and living skills, but his speech is still very poor for his age.  (We believe this is part of the reason Sean is so far behind.)

So now Noah has an aide for school, a (different) aide for home, a speech therapist for school, a different speech therapist for home and an occupational therapist who sees Noah both at the school and in our home (which is great, because Lisa is the same therapist who saw Noah in preschool last year, and she's the only familiar face we've had starting out this school year).

Things have gotten kind of hectic. 

A really nice recent development in Noah's ongoing therapy is that most of his team have recently gotten training in what is called "R & R" therapy.  It stands for "Reference and Regulate".  It's a newly developed system created specifically for Autistic individuals.  It teaches how to make eye contact and read facial cues and body language.  Noah was actually doing this therapy for the last half of last year at preschool, and when he finally started to catch on to it, it was incredible!  He learned to make good eye contact and was communicating much better.  I'm very excited about him starting this therapy again.

Aaaand....
Noah has started to read.  We started him on some learning programs on the computer and Ipad, because he's so fixated on electronics.  He can sound out words, and read simple sentences.  He can sight read over three dozen words.  He'll be turning five a the end of this month.

So lots and lots of progress on the Noah front.  One or two years of this kind of intensive therapy should help him immeasurably in the future.

And last but not least...


Me

(I saved the best for last.)

I noticed that I'd been depressed for about three months in August.  So I've been going to counselling every two to three weeks since then.  It's really nice to have someone who you can talk to who just gives you ideas on how to make things better and doesn't judge. 

I threw my back out.  Couldn't bend over, etc.  I've been going to physiotherapy once a week since then.  I haven't been able to go jogging, but the physio has helped.  My strength is back and I'm almost entirely pain-free.

Despite this, I have been watching what I eat and I've lost the five pounds I gained back recently.  I just hit the "lost a full 20 lbs this year" milestone two days ago!  I'm going to try to lose another 10 to 20 lbs by next summer.

I had to get an Iphone to remind me of my appointments because between Noah and I, we've got a lot of appointments all of a sudden and I was starting to flake out and forget them.  Those stupid little gadgets are freaking addictive!  Books on my phone?!  How am I ever supposed to get anything done now?


So that's my life over the last 2+ months.  I've been busy and avoiding this blog.  I've been thinking about writing a novel and it's been making me nervous and I think that's been making me neglect Finding My Voice.  I give you no excuses.  Thanks for tuning in!

Love,
       -Nan

Eva-monster and the Miracle of the Loose Leash

I got a miracle today.  An honest-to-God, miracle.  Most would say it's not really that big a deal, but for me, it's huge!

I took Eva for a 5 km jog today.  It was the first time in a couple of months.  We used to go jogging on a more regular basis but with the torrential downpour that whas the entirety of July, my falling off the wagon exercise-wise, and the addition of a bike contraption which allows Eva to run along beside my bicycle without pulling me over (yay!) we haven't been jogging for a while.

Side note: I know I don't exercise my dog enough.  But between the bike, jogging, and going to my parents' acreage and running around all day with the dogs, she's still getting quite a bit.  And I'm working on getting out with her more often.

I'm gonna go back a bit here.  I've had Eva ever since she was about 10 weeks old.  She's been a part of my family for over 2 years now.  She's been through three different obedience classes and two agility ones.  (You wouldn't believe how fast she is when you can keep her focused.)  And through all that, she still pulls on-leash.  All the time.  Now, she doesn't pull nearly as hard as she used to, but she still pulls.  Two years, and she still pulls.   Argh...

I've used a no-pull harness with her.  (She's outgrown it now.)  I use a partial choke collar so she can only pull so hard before she has to ease up.  Also the sound of the collar clinking helps when I shake the leash before she hits the end, so she can tell better when she's about to hit the pulling point.  But she still pulls.  I freely admit that if I'd walked her more as a puppy I probably wouldn't have this problem.  But I can't go back, so no point dwelling on it.

So today we're going for a jog.  She's excited and wants to run, so she's out there at the very end of that leash.  And then this weird thing starts happening: every so often, she eases up and drops back just a little, for a few seconds.  I am quick to give her a "Good girl, Eva!" of encouragement, because this kind of volunteered behavior should be acknowledged.  And she starts doing it more often, and for longer and longer.  By the time we get to the cool-down walk at the end, she's walking with a slack leash about half the time.  And when she starts pulling, all it takes is for me to say "Easy..." softly for her to slow down and stop pulling.

She still pulls like crazy when she gets excited, but at her more mellow times, she seems to remember that a slack leash is a good thing, and that has me extatic.

So that's my miracle.  After two years, multiple classes, and many hours of walking and jogging while on-leash, she gets it.  My crazy, high-energy dog can settle down enough to enjoy her walks instead of trying to plow through them  Yay!

Love,
      -Nan

In Stitches

I have recently been initiated into an aspect of parenting I would much rather have forgone, thank you very much.

I'm sure many parents have gone through the process of taking their child to emergency for any number of reasons, and I'm sure many are far, far worse than my son's injury.  I am so very sorry you had to go through that.

But this is my story, and the first time your child is injured badly enough to go to the hospital is terrifying, no matter how minor the injury.

Derek's cousin got married a couple of weeks ago.  (Beautiful wedding!  Congratulations to Miranda and Jeff!)  They had an outdoor wedding at a campground, and many of the attendees were camped out there for the weekend.  Ourselves included. 

So there we were with our spiffy new (and by new, I mean it's older than I am, but we just bought it) motorhome, me and Derek and the kids.  And Noah, of course, was having a little trouble coping with all the bustle and change in routine.  So I decided to put him and his brother to bed close to his normal bed time.  We were camped a few minutes walk from the day-use area where the wedding reception was being held.

So I've got Noah and Sean tucked up in bed in the bunk above the cab in the motorhome.  (They sleep in the top bunk because it means it's much less likely that Noah can get out and wander at night.)  Derek's off at the day use area having fun with his relatives.  (We had agreed on this beforehand; he knows his family much better than I do, and he doesn't get to see them very often.  So that night was a party-your-heart-out night for Derek.)

I've just finished tidying up the camp and settling in for a long boring night by the fire with one of my favourite books, when I hear thud, THUD. 

Now you parents in the crowd know that there are thuds, and there are THUDS.  The former is an indication that one or more of your children is misbehaving and is in for a talking-to.  The latter is a clanging alarm bell on the inside of your skull screaming that something is wrong.

So I ran into that camper so fast I had Noah in my arms before he was even crying.  Noah had fallen from the over-cab bunk.  (Sean wasn't even phased by his brother's trauma.)  There was blood, and at first I thought he'd split his lip, but then he tilted his head back.  My thoughts: Oh, that's gonna need stitches.  His chin was split open and the wound was gaping.  That wasn't gonna get fixed with a band-aid.

So I fish out my cell phone and call my husband, telling him, "Noah fell out of the top bunk and he's gonna need stitches."

"I'll be right there."

Those few seconds of trying to keep Noah calm while not panicking, myself, were some of the longest of my life.

He arrives, takes Noah from me.  Noah is quiet now, just making this soft keening sound that alerts us that he's upset and doesn't know what's going on.  Derek turns to me and says, "He's gonna need stitches."

This trips my Sarcasm Circuits, and he gets The Look.  I think: That's what I said, stupid.  I'm pretty sure I didn't say it out loud.  At least I hope I didn't.

Derek's mom and sister-in-law arrive on the scene.  His mom gives us directions to the hospital and says she'll watch Sean.  His brother's wife, Jessica tells us to keep him awake because he may have a concussion.  He is very drowsy at this point, and the accident happened about five minutes earlier.  So we are concerned.  I drive, being as Derek's been drinking, and he rides in the back and keeps Noah awake.

So a fifteen minute drive to a town I don't know, to find a hospital I've never been to in the dark.  The emergency waiting room is empty.  (Thank God!)  They check him out, informed that Noah is autistic.

They give him some medicine so he won't remember being stitched.  (I don't know if this is standard procedure for stitching children or because he's autistic, but I sure appreciated that.)  And after taking the medication, he promptly falls asleep.  He wakes up and it takes four people to hold him when they give him the freezing needle.  And he promptly falls asleep again.  Doesn't even move when they start cleaning the wound.  So Derek and I opt to not watch our baby being poked and stitched, and go to the waiting room.  A few minutes later he has a perfect row of eight tiny stitches under his chin.  They did a beautiful job stitching him.

He shows no symptoms of concussion, and we are allowed to take him back to the camp.

He sleeps like the dead until 9 a.m. the next morning, and is babbling a mile a minute from the moment he wakes up.  He doesn't seem bothered at all by the dressing on his chin, and doesn't seem to be in any pain.  Looks like he's gonna be fine.

So the stitches are out now.  He's going to have a scar there, but the whole ordeal was, in retrospect, not all that bad.  And not nearly as bad as it could have been.  Thank God!

So that was my traumatic induction into the your-child-has-been-injured-and-needs-to-go-to-hospital club.  I hope you never have to join it.

Love,
     -Nan

P.S.  A big thank-you to all the staff at the Fort Saint John hospital.  You were calm, competent and empathetic.  You made a bad experience into a much more tolerable one.  God bless you!

P.P.S.  And also to my sister Candice (a registered nurse) for taking out the stitches while by some miracle keeping Noah calm.  You truly have a gift, sister.

What I've Been Up To...

Sorry I've been away so long.

A great deal has happened in the two months since I last posted.  (I'm not counting the other post from today.)

My dad's side of the family got together to celibrate his parents' 60th wedding anniversary.  We camped out together not far from where I live.  I got to see family I haven't seen in years.  It was a little stressful camping with Noah, what with his habit of wandering off just when he knows no one is paying attention, but it was still a great deal of fun.  Congratulations to Grandma and Grandpa on their anniversary!   Sixty years is almost unheard-of in this day and age.

My own fourth wedding anniversary.  Seems like a lot longer than that, and yet it seems like we just got married last week.  I love you Derek!  Lets aim to break Great Grandma and Grandpa's record of 75 years married!  71 to go...

I turned 30.  dun dun  DUN!  (Insert creepy death music here.)  My birthday was pretty uneventful but I got to spend it with a friend who I rarely get to see, and I'm super-excited about my 30's.  I feel like the best is yet to come, and with exercising and losing 20 lbs since December, I feel younger than I have in years.

Noah got approved for specialized services.  This is a huge deal.  A couple of years of intensive therapy for his speech and social delays could make a huge difference in his ability to be self-sufficient in adulthood.  So now I get the help Noah needs, because honestly I have no clue what I'm supposed to be doing to help him.

Also, I would like to thank my grandparents.  (The same who celebrated their 60th anniversary.)  They very generously offered to buy Noah an Ipad, after they found out we were considering getting one for him.  The Ipad has been amazing.  Noah had been doing so well with his self-help skills at school by June, but his speech had disappeared entirely.  Within two weeks of getting the Ipad, with programs to help him communicate, he was speaking again.  I've even heard him offer a couple of completely unique sentences that were appropriate to the conversation, and he's correctly responding to yes and no questions.  (Usually if he responds to a question, he just repeats it back to the person.)  So the Ipad has been a godsend, and I hope we can integrate it into his therapy program.

So that's what I've been up to this summer.  We also bought a motorhome and have been camping with family.  When the rain finally stopped this summer, we've gotten to spend some time playing in our newly fenced backyard.

The family is all doing well, and that's all I really have to say for now.

Love,
       -Nan

Embracing Emotion

I like to cry.

Yes, there are times when showing emotion embarasses me.  When I get so angry or frustrated that it manifests itself in tears, for instance.  I hate how my face gets red and scrunched up and my eyes get puffy.  (For this reason, I love Julia Roberts.  When that woman cries she actually looks like a real human being.  Unlike most actresses, who somehow manage to still look perfect while bawling their eyes out.)

But for the most part, I like to cry.  I embrace my emotions as they come.  One of the rules I live by is this:

Don't ever apologise for how you feel.  Apologise for how you act, but never how you feel.

You are entitled to your emotions.

When I get into a melancholia mood, I tend to wallow in it.  I put on music that matches my mood, and let the emotions come.  I spent all morning yesterday crying because I was watching Grey's Anatomy.  (Stupid, addictive soap opera...)  Sometimes when the emotions are buried, I have to use something to help them to the surface.  I think that bout of crying helped, because here I am writing again for the first time in two months.  I've been suffering a serious block.  Fell off the wagon exercise and diet wise too. 

Time to get back on the horse, so to speak.

So I guess what I've been trying to say is that I'm fighting off my depression by simply stopping fighting it.  And letting the emotions come in full force, and letting them surface, dealing with them and moving on.  I'm feeling better for embracing my emotions, rather than trying to stuff them into a box.  It's nice to not feel numb anymore.

Love,
       -Nan

P.S.  The form of depression I suffer from is very mild.  This helps me to deal with it.  I'm not in any way saying that this works for everyone.  If you suffer from depression, talk to someone about it.  Message me, call a hotline, call a friend.  No one can help you if they don't know you suffer.  So ask for help.  People love you and care for you.  The world is a better place with you in it.

Thank you Miss Tania!

How do you thank someone who has made such a difference in your child's life that there are literally no words to describe it?

I'll give it my best shot.

My family was blessed last school year to have a teacher's aide assigned to Noah who is truly passionate about children, most particularly preschoolers with special needs.

When Noah started preschool almost two years ago he was a completely different person.  He would throw himself on the floor and scream every day when I dropped him off, and every day again when I picked him up.  I would often have to carry him to the car and hold him down into his carseat so I could get him belted in.  I had to put his shoes and coat on for him at school because he couldn't do it himself.  (He turned 3 right after he started preschool last year.)  He wouldn't even acknowledge if someone said his name.  When I looked through our family pictures, I could only find two images of him smiling.

Tania was always patient with Noah, whether he was having a meltdown, disturbing group time in class, or just not sitting still.  She was the first person to tell me that Noah was autistic.  We knew that something was off with him, and suspected he may be autistic, but she was the first to confirm that whenever we managed to get him diagnosed, we already knew what we were dealing with.  She helped me to adjust to that reality, showing me that the key to dealing with my autistic child was in accepting him for who he was, and helping him to be everything he is capable of being.

Miss Tania stayed by Noah's side throughout the school year, helping him to do things that come naturally to most of us, but were so very difficult for him.  At the end of the year she gave him a big hug and gave me dozens of pictures she had taken of him throughout the school year.  They're all in a preschool photo album, a record of his progress last year.

And this school year we were doubly blessed to have Miss Tania back as Noah's full-time in-school teacher's aide once again.  We were sooooo happy when we heard that news!  And once again Miss Tania was patient and loving and wonderful through Noah's obsessions with his backpack, his boots, puzzles.  Through his bouts of frustration and aggression with her and his fellow students.  She helped administer his new look and learn therapy as well as his music therapy program.  (And by helped, I mean she did all the work with some advice and supervision of Noah's Occupational Therapist and Speech Therapists.)

And now, at the end of Noah's second year in preschool, his second and likely last year with the amazing and wonderful Miss Tania, these are the things that Noah now does on a regular basis:

-He puts on and takes off his shoes and coat all by himself.  (Even his coat zipper!)

-He arrives at and leaves the school calmly, just like any other kid.

-He smiles!  All the time!

-He makes eye contact, even seeks it out when he wants something.  (This is absolutely huge for an autistic individual.  Eye contact is a very basic and integral part of human social interaction, which most autists find difficult or even impossible.)

-He can follow simple directions and will respond when you say his name. 

Most of this amazing progress can be attributed directly to Miss Tania, and her care and dedication.  She saw the potential in my child, and helped him to reach it.  And I will always remember her as the very first person (even before me!) to do so.

Miss Tania, you were like our Mary Poppins, swooping in and transforming our child, our family.  And I would honestly love to keep you forever, but I know I can't.  There are other children who need you as much as we did two years ago.  We still need you, and we will all miss you so very much, but I think there are little boys and girls out there who need you more. 

On behalf of myself, Derek, Noah and Sean, we love you and wish you the very best, and we will all miss you very very much.  (And I am crying as I write this.)

Thank you. 

Love,
     -Nan

Reflection: The Boxer

Gonna try something a little different for this post.

In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev'ry glove that layed him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains

from the song "The Boxer" by Simon and Garfunkel, written by Paul Simon

I love this song.  Always have.  I feel like it speaks to me, most particularly the verse I quoted above.

Have you ever felt like that boxer?  I have.  All the time, really.  Or I used to.  The song is more nostalgic to me now; a reminder of how I felt for a few years of my life, and how I finally walked away from the things that made me feel that way.

When I was in my early twenties, I partied a lot.  I met a lot of men.  And I allowed many of those men to get far closer to me than most of them had any right to be, physically and emotionally.  This is not about having someone force their affections on me.  This is about my allowing them access to myself that they did not deserve.  I am not proud of this part of my past, but neither am I ashamed anymore.  It happened, and all the shame and recrimination cannot remove these experiences from my own past.  They have helped shape who I am now, and I am reconciled with those feelings.  But the worst, the absolute worst part of these years, these men, these experiences was the fact that I lied to myself the entire time.  Each time I was with someone new, I told myself that this would be different, that this would be the last time.  And it never was.  Until I finally allowed myself to give when I chose to, not expecting anything in return, and to withhold when I chose to, walking away when the relationship was no longer beneficial to me.

To me, the song is about lying to yourself. Being in a situation that you find intolerable and telling yourself that you're going to just walk away and leave it all behind. But you don't. You stay, and you survive. And it kills something inside you as long as you stay. But in the same way, when you finally find the strength to go, the experience makes you stronger.

I see myself standing in that clearing, with all my scars out there for all the world to see.  The scars of my self-deceit and the emotional abuse that I inflicted upon myself.  The scars are there long after the pain has faded.  And in retrospect, I am proud of those scars.  They are concrete proof that I felt, and I hurt and that I lived.  And I am still here.  And I am stronger for having survived those things.

And that is why I love "The Boxer" by Simon and Garfunkel.  Give it a listen sometime.

Love,
    -Nan

Sean-Monster

Three years ago today at approximately 11:30am, I gave birth to a 10 lb monstrosity.  (Monstrosity referring to the size of the child, not the child himself.)

I named him Sean.  Actually I had been calling the unborn baby "him" and "Sean" since about five months along, when I woke up at 3 am, woke Derek up and asked, "What about Sean for a boy?".  Derek had grunted something akin to assent and Sean has been "Sean" ever since.  I didn't have a dream or anything, I just woke up with the idea, his name should be Sean.  And ran with it.

I had been concerned that I wouldn't bond with the baby right away.  I was so stressed out and overwhelmed when Noah was born that I didn't really bond with him until about a month after he was born.  I needn't have worried.  It was love at first sight.

*Note: This does not mean that I love one of my children any more than the other.  It is perfectly normal to not bond with a new baby immediately, and I fully understood such at the time with Noah.  I just hoped it wouldn't happen to me twice.

Sean has always been very stubborn and very aware of how cute he is.  He's an insufferable flirt.  He loves to play outside, climb on furniture, and say 'Hi' to everyone he passes.  He is the bane of his brother's existence, as he takes his role of 'little brother' very seriously.

He is my little monster-child and I love him very much. 

Happy Birthday, Sean-Monster!

Love,
    -Mommy

Life Update

I've been writing quite often about abstract ideas.  Time I talked a bit more about myself and my family again.

I got a bicycle for mother's day, so I've picked up cycling again after 10 years of not riding at all.  I figure with the jogging and the water aerobics, I've got a nice mix of exercise.  I bought an attachment for the bike so Eva can run with me and I won't wipe out or run her over.  I like it so far.  I've lost 18 lbs since January first of this year.  I haven't lost much in the last month so I need to start exercising more often again.  For the first time in years I have energy and I like the way I look and feel.  I think my husband has noticed a difference as well.  I've been seriously considering starting to write a novel.  It's a scary idea and I'm stalling though.  Also, I need a good idea to start with.

Noah's still in preschool.  He's doing pretty well and his teacher's aide is taking him over to the elementary to spend half an hour every day with the Kindergarten class.  He seems to really like it and this should help him transition to the new school and program when he starts Kindergarten there in the fall.  He's not talking very much (again) but he's doing very well in other areas.  He will put his own shoes and coat on when it comes time to go home, and he's getting very good at following directions.  He has also been making sooo much eye contact!  He actually seeks information from those around him by looking at their eyes.  This is a very important and vital thing for an individual with autism to learn and use, so those who know Noah are very excited about this new development!

Sean has been spending some time over at his Auntie's house, with a cousin a few months older than him, and it seems to have helped him immensely.  He actually uses words to get his needs met now.  He's still pretty far behind in verbal skills for a three-year-old, but he's making progress and wants to know new words and use them.  We're in the process of trying to get him tested for autism, based on the advice of a speech pathologist.  He's not nearly as delayed as Noah, but he still may be on the spectrum.  It's better for us to know and get him help and treat him according to his needs, than ignore the problems just because he doesn't seem as delayed as his big brother.

We had a bit of a setback with Eva.  She snapped at my dad when he stepped in on her being obnoxious with his dog, and I seriously considered finding her a new home.  It is not okay for her to be agressive with people.  The actual problem is not her behavior with people though.  It's her behavior with other dogs.  She doesn't seem to be able to read and understand the body language of other dogs, especially when they're telling her to back off.  I don't think she does it deliberately, but her style of play is very agressive and dominating.  So I've got her back in a "Manners" class, so she can learn some better behavior.  She seems to be catching on, and I no longer think I'll need to give her away.  I want to keep her.  She's my dog, and I love her.  But if it came to a choice, my kids come first.  I cannot keep an animal near my children if it is potentially dangerous to them.  An accidental bite is still a bite, regardless of the reason.  But I reiterate: we're doing good now and Eva stays right where she is.

Derek's doing well.  Getting lots done in the yard and hanging out with the kids.  We've been making more time for just the two of us and we're both enjoying the time together.

So that's what's going on in my life and my family right now.

Love,
      -Nan

Miracle Math

I am no mathematician, so I'm no expert on the subject, but the first thing we are taught in elementary math class is this:

1+1=2

I'm going to present to you a different kind of math.

In my life, 1+1=4

Two people come together and create two more, without any discernable diminishing of the original two in the equation.  In fact, one could speculate that the original two in this equation have gained (Aside from the weight gain, of course. This concept refuses to speculate on sneaky post-childbearing weight gain.)from the miracle math that added two more from almost complete nothingness.

Life starts with two cells.  By some strange, unpredictable process two cells which are incapable of creating life on their own, when brought together, start to split and become more, and more and more cells.  And somehow some of those cells know to become skin, and others heart.  Others develop into the brain, the nervous system.  Muscles.  Bone.  And somehow, through Miracle Math, all these cells form together to be an actual person.  After time spent growing and borrowing what is needed from another entity becomes someone entirely separate from all others, unique.

A brain to think.  A personality to be.  A heart, a soul, to love.  All somehow created from two, to become a third entity.  A mathematical impossibility.

And here's another impossibility for you: it happens all the time.  It has happened more times than any person is capable of counting.  The process may be different, but the result is the same; with human beings, with animals, plants.  Bugs, even.

The next time you look at your parents, think about the mathematical impossibility that is you.  Same with your kids.  And then consider thanking whatever Creator you may believe in for everyday miracles.  Just because they happen all the time, doesn't make them any less mysterious, or any less awesome.

And don't take the everyday miracles for granted.

Love,
    -Nan

Beauty

So lately I feel beautiful.  On a regular basis.  For the first time since I had kids.  So I got to thinking why that is.

Is it because of the weight I've lost?  Getting regular exercise?  The fact that it's warm lately and the snow has finally melted and the sun is shining?

The answer is, all of the above, but the weight loss and the exercise and the fact that I actually want to get out in the sun are symptoms of something far bigger.

You see, being skinny doesn't make you beautiful.  Or being tanned, or tall, or having expensive clothes.  How many people do you know whose body you would kill to be in, who are tremendously unhappy?  I can think of a few off the top of my head.

I've noticed when I go to water aerobics that many of the women there wrap a towel around themselves when they're not in the pool.  A great many of those women are smaller and more fit than I am.  I would rather be my size with my body confidence, than skinnier with theirs.

So what is it that makes me feel beautiful lately?  I've come to realise that it's love, and acceptance.  I didn't like my body before, so I decided to change it.  Not just to lose weight, but to develop skills for a healthy lifestyle, and be a better example for my children.  To feel better about myself.  It is an internal change as much as an external one.  As I learned to take better care of myself, I also learned to like myself better.  To accept my flaws, even while trying to improve them.

I learned to love myself.  You take good care of the things you love, and it shows.  I've seen people who are "overweight" who are incredibly beautiful, because they accept themselves, and aren't fixated on what is "wrong" with how they look.

So if you don't feel beautiful, why?  Maybe instead of obsessing about what is wrong with you, you should focus on what is right.  Decide to love yourself, and your outward image will transform to suit.  The next time you feel "ugly", "fat", "stupid", or any of the other ugly words we all use to run ourselves down, try repeating these words to yourself:

I am not loved because I am beautiful.  I am beautiful because I am loved.  And today, I choose to love myself.

Love,
     Nan

Pep-talk for Moms

As I am a stay-at-home mom of two, I have a few things to say to other moms.  I am the first to say I'm not the world's best Mom, but I think I'm doing okay.  And as I'm doing much better now than I have in the past, I'd like to impart some of the smidgen of wisdom I have accumulated.

Stop beating yourself up.  You are human.  You make mistakes.  You have more to gain by doing better next time than you do by dwelling on past "failures".  Nothing that can be learned from should be considered a failure.  So understand your mistakes, own up to them, move on, and do better next time.

I have a special needs child.  I did not make him that way with bad parenting.  God made him that way.  I can be a much better parent to him and his brother by refusing to blame myself for an accident of genetics.

Stop comparing yourself to "perfect mom" over there.  She's not perfect.  She may be better at faking it than you, but she's far from perfect.  I'm sure there are many things that you do better than she does.  God gave you the children He did for a reason; you were meant to have them.  So be proud of your accomplishments.  (Even if you think your best accomplishment is the fact that your children are alive at the end of each day.  Some days that alone is a Herculean task.)

For the sake of your sanity, get out of the house, without your kids.  I suffered from depression for over two years after my first child was born.  And never leaving the house without the kids helped bury me in that depression.  It didn't help that I didn't realise I was depressed until I started to come out of it.  When I started going to water aerobics class twice a week, I felt terribly guilty for leaving the kids with Derek.  But I got over it quickly.  Derek was great about it, encouraging me to get some time to myself.  And he is their father.  He should be expected to take them and give me some time off once in a while.  After a few weeks of going, I came to relish the time where I wasn't responsible for anyone but me.  And I'm much less hesitant to ask for some "me" time now.

Go work out, or take a scrapbooking class, or go out to dinner with some friends.  Just get out of the house.  Even having someone watch your kids for a couple of hours while you run errands can make a huge difference.  And do it at least once a week.  The most terrible day can be made much more tolerable if you have something to look forward to.  You make a better parent when you are calm and collected.  And you can stay much calmer if you take some time to center yourself.

Above all, remember that you have the hardest, most important, most thankless job in the world.  And that makes you a superhero.

Love,
      -Nan

More Adventures in Dog Ownership

Eva's coming up on her second birthday in May.  She's about 60lbs now, and that's about as big as she'll get.  I measure her food and feed her twice a day, so she's not likely to become overweight.

I mentioned in the last post that she's mellowed out some in the almost two years we've had her.  (It'll be two years with us in late July.)  That goes double for the last couple of months.  We got into a beginners Agility class and after I learned the knack of all-positive reinforcement, she took to it like a fish to water.  I had gotten back into some angry ways and she didn't respond well for the first two classes.  So Becky let me know it was my fault she was responding badly, not Eva's.  (9 times out of 10, it's not the dog's fault.)

So I wasn't allowed to use the word "No" in the training area at all.  (Aside here: my "No" is one of the harshest sounding ones you have ever heard.  I got into that habit when she used to try to chew on my kids, and I never developed a kinder correction as she got better.)  So I had to learn how to be positive.  This is not easy for me.  I'm not a positive person.  I remember in the last class Eva did something she really wasn't allowed to, and I told her no.  I immediately appologised to Becky.  She turned and told me that particular "No" was okay, because it was something I said to Eva, not something I yelled at her.  I guess I had learned.

Eva has turned out to be an amazing workout buddy.  No matter how fast I walk or jog, she's always looking back at me and bouncing a couple of times, like she's saying, "Can we go faster now?  How 'bout now?"  I don't think I ever need to worry about not pushing myself to go faster when we go jogging, 'cause it doesn't matter how fast I get, she'll always want me to go faster.  That girl could run all day and have energy to spare!

I can get her to calm down pretty fast now when she decides to bark.  She's friendly but not pushy with the kids.  Having the "dog I didn't want" is turning out to be exactly what I need.  I'm looking to see how much fun we can have now that we have developed a good working relationship.  Sometimes you have to work to get a good family dog, but the work is immensely worth it.

I love my Eva!
             -Nan

What's New

Sorry I've been away so long.  I went through a brief bout with depression followed by a manic, obsessive bout with my new video game.  I swear every game Bioware releases just eats me alive!

I figured I should make this post to just update what's going on in my life.

Noah's doing really well right now.  Lots of good eye contact.  He's talking all the time, even though I don't understand half of what he's saying.  He seems to enjoy the time he gets to join the kindergarten class.  That should also help him to transition into that class next year.  He's become very good at communicating his needs, and we're in the process of applying for specialised services to help him with his life skills.

Sean has started spending 1 day a week over at his aunt's house.  (Thanks, Jessica!)  He gets to hang out with a cousin about six months older than him, and I get a bit of a break.  He's been talking a great deal more since then, and is getting much better at communicating his needs as well.

Eva is doing well.  She seems to be calming down a lot lately.  She doesn't bark as much, and she actually sits when she wants attention.  I need to get her into another class soon, so we can keep this good momentum going.  I haven't been able to take her for many walks because it won't stop snowing, but I try to take her to my parents' acreage once a week so she can run.

I have lost 15 lbs.  That's half a pound short of the halfway point of my mid-July weight loss goal, so I'm still on pace to lose 31 lbs before my 30th birthday.  I've been jogging on my mini-trampoline when the weather is nasty.  (Which it has been almost steadily since January.)  My energy levels are up and I'm really starting to notice the difference in my body.

I'm working on re-affirming my relationship with God.  I haven't been to church in way too long.  I have a host of excuses but I really need to get my butt in gear and just go back.  I've started reading a couple of Christian books, and listening to some Christian music.  It's been helping me to feel better about myself.

I priced out a new kitchen.  It will be bottom-of-the line, but a vast improvement on the home-made, ill-fitting cabinets we have in our 30-year-old trailer.  And it will be pretty inexpensive, to boot!

So lots of stuff on the go.  Things seem to be on the upswing in my life.  I'll try to keep up with the posting more often. 

Love,
       Nan

Night Terrors

I believe I may have mentioned this in a previous post but it happened again last night, so I'm going to go into greater depth here.

Last night I felt very anxious as I went to bed.  I've been feeling depressed over the last couple of weeks and I drastically overreacted to something that Eva did late last night and felt absolutely terrible about it.  (I did not hurt her at all, but I may have scared her.  I was trying to get her to take a submissive posture and ended up forcing it.  Sooooo not helpful in our trust relationship.  If you don't remember, Eva is my dog.)

So I felt very bad about myself when I went to bed, and I think that may be the source of the dream I had last night.

I remember I was in the water with three other people and I knew that there was something else in the water with us.  Not human but not animal.  It was humanoid, thin, and short, and had some sort of wings, and I could see it as a sort of shadow.  I had the impression that the only reason I could see it was that it was in the water.  The other three people couldn't see it so I was telling them where it is.  As I continued shouting out directions, I started losing my ability to talk.  My words came out garbled or not at all. 

And the next thing I knew it was attached to my lower back.  I had the feeling that it was somehow invading my body.  So I told it to get out of my body, in the Name of Jesus Christ.  The words came out clear the first time, and when I tried to repeat them, they came out garbled again.  And then I woke up.

And the first sensation I had upon waking was that of it leaving through my lower back.  Like my dream was a manifestation of something that was actually happening.  I don't know if that was the last vestiges of the dream hanging on into my waking state, or something else.  But I was terrified.  It took me about ten minutes to get the courage to get up and go to the bathroom.  'Cause I really had to go.

So today I feel like I didn't get any sleep at all.  My brain is functioning at half capacity.  And I've come to the realisation that since adolescence I have always woken up from really bad dreams with the sensation of something touching my lower back.  And if I tried to move it sent the most disgusting nervy sensation up and down my spine.  I wonder if that has any significance.

So if any of you out there know of any spirit healers (Christian or otherwise) who could shed some light on this sort of thing, I'd love to hear it.  Because I would like it to stop.  Forever.  And I'm thinking I might need some help with that.

Love,
     -Nan

Winter

I am so ready for winter to be over.  Normally, I like to stay inside.  My family has been calling me a vampire for twenty years or so because of my tendency to hide in the basement and read books.

But this year something seems to have changed.  I want to take my kids outside.  I want to get some fresh air and sunshine and maybe even (gasp) a tan.

I am tired of having to let my car warm up.  I am tired of toques and gloves and winter boots and jackets and wind chill warnings and I am tired of snow!!

I am Canadian, so I should be used to this stuff by now.  I've had thirty years to adjust.  But this year I've just had enough.  This winter crap is ruining my workout momentum.  And this particular winter seems to be a little bipolar.  Either it's -30 celsius, or it's +5 and melting.  Damn uncooperative Canadian winter.  So the kids can't enjoy the snow because it's either too cold or too wet.

I remember loving winter.  I like skating.  I love cross-country skiing.  I love the lack of bugs.  And sweat.  And excessive sunshine.  I love that first breath you take when it's reeeeealy cold and it freezes your lungs and makes you cough reflexively.  Truly.  I love that feeling.  That is the feeling of being Canadian.  (Well, that and Tim Horton's coffee.)

But enough is enough.  Mother Nature, God, whoever controls this stuff, I am hereby giving notice that I will no longer tolerate this!  Unless you want me to be grumpy(er) for the rest of my life, bring on the spring already! 

Love,
       Nan

Romance

First of all, I hate Valentine's day.  It's a personal choice.  That being said, I'm not going to berate you further on the subject.

My husband has never been particularly romantic.  Stable, supportive, loving, yes.  Romantic, no.

So I seek romance in the most readily available place: crappy romance novels.  There.  I admit it.  I'm addicted to the stupid things.  I pick them up at grocery stores.  I take them out of the library.  I borrow them from my sisters.

The truly sad thing is that most of them are so terrible I can't even finish them.  I am a literary critic at heart and I hate those moments that are so ridiculous that they just throw you right back out of the story. 

The word "virile", or "brawny" for instance.  Any time a woman thinks of a man using either of those terms, I stop and say to myself no one uses words like that.  Especially virginal young ladies.  

So why would I choose to subject myself to that?  It's easy.  I know that romance is not a real, long-term part of love.  So I let my husband off the hook (most of the time) and seek my happy-butterfly-romance fix between the pages of a paperback novel.  I get all the romance I need, and my husband gets to be his loving-but-not-so-romantic self.

And for every ten terrible novels out there, there's one that makes me laugh and cry and just be someone else for a few hours, and it's all worth it.  Maybe some day I will write my own romance novels.  Perhaps I shall name the first, "Virile".  With the quotations.  Do you think anyone would get the joke?  And if I hate my own writing as much as some of the books I've tried to read, I'll just burn the book rather than subjecting poor unsuspecting readers to it.

So, now you can all be jealous of all the romance and drama in my life.  Or just go out and get yours in the same place.  No husband or boyfriend required!

Love,
      -Nan

Weight Loss

I have tried losing weight a number of times.  The last couple of times I've tried I threw my back out.  Badly.  So I lost heart and gave up. 

My family had some gorgeous pictures done at the beginning of this year.  I looked at all the pictures and this is what I saw: my three sisters, who have been working hard and getting into shape and they all look amazing.  (Especially the one who has lost 60 lbs in the last year.  Good on her!)  And me.  I weighed more on the first of January than I did on the last day I was pregnant with my first child.  Don't get me wrong.  I love those pictures.  I will proudly show my grandkids those pictures one day.  But they were a wake-up call.  I need to get healthy.

I had been overweight before.  I lost 30 lbs about 7 years ago.  But I gained some with my first pregnancy And then leading up to my wedding.  And then again after my second pregnancy.  It wasn't until last year that I realized that I had been depressed for about three years and that has contributed to my weight gain.  (I will discuss the depression in a later post.)

So here I was, 60 lbs heavier than when I graduated 10 years ago.  40 lbs heavier than when I met my husband.  And I decided to change.

A call from a friend really helped.  I had been considering going to water aerobics, but had never got up the courage and the energy to go.  And then Becky called, and asked me if I wanted to start taking water aerobics twice a week.  I jumped at the chance.  I had an accountability buddy, and someone to help me take on a daunting new experience.  The workout was alot more difficult than I imagined it would be.  And I loved it.  Water aerobics was the perfect way to strengthen my body without straining my back.

I also made some small changes with my eating.  I refuse to deny myself any specific type of food, but any kind of temptation stays out of my house.  If I want to treat myself, I have to go get it.  I drink at least a litre of water a day, and a large glass of milk.  I eat breakfast every day.  I don't snack when I'm bored.  And I don't eat after 7pm.  If I get hungry late I drink a glass of milk.  A lot of changes, but nothing drastic.

So I am eating better, and doing water aerobics twice a week, and going for a brisk walk once a week.  And I have lost 8 lbs since January 1st.  So far so good!  I am planning on losing 31 lbs by July.  Wish me luck!

Love,
     -Nan

Autism

Ah, that word.  It means so many things to so many different people.  For some, it seems like some sort of insidious disease that could creep up and steal your child.  For some that becomes a reality.  It is used as evidence that vaccinating your child is dangerous.  (I personally believe that it is far more dangerous to not vaccinate.)  For some it is an integral part of someone that they love, though there are certain parts they would leave out if they could.

Every person with autism is very, very different from every other person with autism.  You can't tell someone is autistic just by looking at them.  There is nothing about a person's outward appearance that says "that person is autistic".  Autism is a spectrum disorder.  That means that there are a very wide variety of people that fall under the spectrum.  From very high functioning, to those who can barely speak and have little to no basic living skills.  From someone who needs constant care and supervision even as an adult, to someone who can live on their own, but is a little strange.  (If you want to know what I mean, Sheldon on Big Bang Theory is an almost textbook example of a person with Aspbergers, also known as high functioning autism.  Wall-e, from the movie of the same name, seems very autistic as well.)

My four year old son, Noah, has autism.  It's difficult to explain to people who don't know him.  He is perfectly capable of sitting and playing quietly like any other kid.  He will even play next to another kid his age, though rarely with them.  He doesn't play pretend.  His social skills are abnormal, and he often does not understand even the most basic social niceties.  He can have extreme reactions to the smallest thing, and often I can't tell what has set him off.  He doesn't speak normally, instead using entire phrases from books or movies, and often he uses those phrases in the wrong situations, or just sits repeating them over and over to himself.  (For example, one of his favourite things to say is "I am Syndrome!" from The Incredibles.  It's pretty cute when he does it though.  I love my little supervillian-in-training!)  Often if you ask him a question he will repeat it back to you instead of giving a response.  He can be obsessive about things, like Thomas the train.  And puzzles. 

Not everything about autism is terrible or frustrating.  My son has the most adorable quirks.  I am not one of those parents who feels like autism stole their child, because Noah's onset of autism was gradual, just after he turned one year old.  I've had alot of time to adjust.  He is who he is, and the autism is just a part of that.  I have to help him to cope in a world that wasn't designed for him, but that's just part of any parent's life.  I love him just as he is.  (Though there are times that I don't like him very much.  Such is love.)  We're currently pursuing various things to help catch him up before he starts school.  We haven't tried anything radical yet, but he seems to be coping nicely, so no radical stuff in the works, either.  He doesn't self-injure.  (Thank God!)  His main negative response is screaming.  And I've found a few ways to interrupt or distract that particular negative behavior.  (If you ever see us in church, right behind the choir, I let him run around a bit because if I didn't, he would scream.  I figure it's the less distracting behaviour.)

October is autism awareness month in Canada.  Every day is autism awareness day in my life.  It's strange how the Lord gives you the strength to deal with the challenges you didn't see coming.  I didn't ask for this.  Autism was never a part of the dreams I held for my little boy.  But it's here, and it's a part of who he is, and it's not going anywhere.  So I deal with it.  And with all the medical tests, and the treatments, and the paperwork, and the stress, and those days when I just want to yank out all my hair and scream, one truth remains.  I love my son.  All of him, even the parts I don't like.

Love,
     -Nan

P.S.  I will write on autism periodically, but I think I will write from a personal point of view.  I am not qualified to give advice on the topic.  But if you know someone who is autistic, or simply different in any way, feel free to comment, and we can swap stories.

Family

I am the oldest of four girls and no boys.  There is a five year spread between me and the youngest.  We've always fought like cats and dogs (and still do occasionally, even though we're all grown up now) but we are very close.  We all get along quite well with our parents as well.  My mom and dad will have been married for 30 years this coming August.

If we don't like you, we won't talk to you.  It's kind of our family's unspoken motto.  If we like you, we tease you mercilessly.  That's just the way we operate.  But if we decide we don't like you, we just won't go out of our way to carry a conversation.  Very rarely will we tell anyone off, but should we find it necessary, watch out.

When three or more of us get together, especially around my parents' hundred-year-old-english-oak table, it takes about half an hour before there are tears of laughter running down our faces.  There is a great deal of joy that has survived the hard times, and we've had our fair share of those.

We've always believed in God.  We went to church every Sunday.  Most of us still do.  (To be truthful, I only make it about once a month, but I'm working to improve that.)  It was, and still is, natural for us to bring God, Christ, and Christian values into any conversation.  That doesn't mean that all we do is sit around and talk about God.  Far from it in fact.  But it does mean that the mention of God or faith is never met with censure among my family members.  It is the most delightfully safe place to believe, and express that belief that I have ever encountered.  I am truly blessed to have them.

Anytime I need someone to talk to, about anything, I can call any of them.  They always have a kind word, or honest advice, or just a shoulder to cry on.  Always.

Every woman in the world should have my sisters to shop with.  They always give an honest opinion and will absolutely never allow you to leave the store with something that looks bad on you.  You kinda have to have a thick skin about it though.  Sometimes you will open the change room door, and they will literally point and laugh.  And then proceed to try the same thing on themselves.

My family adopts stray people.  From taking in some of my cousins for literally years of their lives, to offering friends of myself and my sisters a place to stay while they're getting their lives in order.  We offer a warm welcome to those who need a family.  Or a second family, in some cases.  There is never so many of us that there isn't room for more.

So there's a quick overall view of my family.  I love them all very much, and they're mine.  But I could share them if you want.  As long as they like you, that is...

Love,
     -Nan

Anxiety

Anxiety problems run in my family.  Both of my parents and all three of my sisters have dealt with this problem in one form or another in their lives.

I, personally, have suffered from anxiety pretty much all my life.  I have always slept with the door closed and my back to the wall.  Somewhere deep inside I feel like this will make it harder for someone to sneak up on my while I'm sleeping.  I have suffered night terrors for at least ten years now.  I used to wake myself up by breathing so hard I could hear it in my sleep, or wake others up with my yelling.  I wouldn't remember the dream, but I have woken up so afraid that it took me ten minutes to get the courage to get out of bed and turn the light on.  And then I would read my Bible until I was brave enough to go back to sleep.

I've been to counselling for the night terrors, and now I sometimes remember the dreams.  I have even shouted down a few of them, consciously praying in my sleep at them until I woke up.  Seriously.  I tell them to begone in the name of Jesus Christ until they go away.  And it works.  I don't think it's the words that does it.  It's the conviction behind the words.  I'm not saying it would work for everyone, but it's what I believe, and it works for me. 

The dreams don't always end that way.  Sometimes I still wake up terrified and afraid to leave my bed.  It's those nights that I'm glad my husband sleeps next to me now.  He can wrap his arms around me until I feel safe again.

I mentioned in a previous post that my dog Eva, has helped with my anxiety.  She really, really has.  When my husband works evenings I bring her in the house and I don't feel afraid.  I know that if anyone tried to get in, she would bark so much she'd probably wake the neighbors.  I used to check my locks at least five times a night.  And every time I'd get up to use the washroom at night I would have to re-check the locks, and check on both of the kids to see if they were still breathing.  (Which as often as not woke them up.)  I was doing this at least once or twice a night.

I check the locks and the kids once before I go to bed now.  Just once.  I realized that my anxiety was starting to interfere with my life, and did what I could to change it.  I'm fortunate that it worked.  I don't think I'll ever be able to live without a dog.  Eva does so much for my peace of mind that I can't imagine living here without that feeling of security.

I still worry.  I'm overly cautious when it comes to my kids.  I'm trying to ease up and let them have a little more fun, but it's a work in progress.  It always will be.  I am trying to be the calm, sane person I know is buried there somewhere deep, deep inside of me.  I know I'm less crazy than I used to be.  I think I'll try being less crazy tomorrow than I am today, and see where I end up.

Love,
   -Nan

You Find What You're Looking For

So I was thinking while driving to town yesterday, about how optimistic I am about the coming year.  I'm not generally known for my optimism, so I was wondering what, exactly was the cause of this change.

I have been fighting for two years to get Noah diagnosed.  From denial, to acceptance to battling with doctors who I'm sure thought I was being a hypochondriac mom.  I had to arrange to have tests done, then find that they didn't seem to help with getting the diagnosis because a doctor didn't order the tests.  And we were on a waiting list to see a pediatrician for over six months before I requested my doctor refer me to a different pediatrician.  Then I had to call my family doctor every week for a month to get him to actually make the referral.  So it was an uphill battle for a long time.

Then from the time we saw the pediatrician a month later, everything just fell into place.  I didn't have to request autism testing.  The doctor recommended the testing after speaking with me for fifteen minutes.  And then when I got a call from the clinic, they said that the testing I had had done might mean that we could get Noah diagnosed via teleconference.  (Which was a huge relief, being as the clinic is five hours drive away one way, and the winter roads have been particularly nasty this year.)  So only six weeks after seeing a pediatrician, in mid-December of 2010, Noah was diagnosed from our home town via teleconference.  It was a huge weight lifted off my shoulders.

So this year was looking up right from the get-go.  We had the diagnosis so we could apply for government services, and if Noah goes into Kindergarten next year, I don't have to worry about him being labelled a problem child.

Just last month, I started working out.  I've tried a couple of times in the last year, but I put my back out very badly the first time, and it's never been the same since.  So that kind of ended my attempts to lose weight.  This time around, I am easing into it.  I only work out every other day at the very most.  I am doing water aerobics, so the strain on my body is much less.

I feel better, because I'm making an effort to be more healthy.  I found out last night that I've actually lost 4 pounds in less than three weeks!  And that's just with working out three times a week, drinking lots of water, and being more conscientious of what I eat and when.

A lot of good and terrible things are going on in the lives of the people I know.  So I was thinking to myself, "What makes my outlook good or bad?"

And the answer I got was, "You find what you're looking for."

There will always be good and bad things going on around you.  If you look for the bad things, the good things fade into the background.  And if you are looking for the good things, even the bad things seem to have a bright side, even if it's "That could have been worse".  Because often times it could have been so much worse.

And this year I just can't seem to shake the feeling that something good is lying just around the corner.

And the really funny thing is that a few seconds after that feeling came upon me once again, my car crested the hill and one of my very favourite things came into view; my home town at night from an overlooking hill about five miles distant.  The lights stretch out to the sides along a long flat prairie, and I've always felt that that sight at night time meant "home".  Those lights I have long held as one of the most beautiful sights in the world.

So I guess you really do find what you're looking for in life.  And if I hold on to the feeling that something is amazing just over the next hill, how can I help but find it?

Love,
      -Nan

Adventures in Dog Ownership

A couple of years ago I was getting so anxious at night that I started seriously considering getting a dog.  My family had had dogs my entire life so I was used to having them, but I had never had one of my own.  I also thought that it might be an idea to train the dog as an autism support dog for Noah.

So at the end of July I went into the local SPCA to check things out.  My sister came along as she was also considering getting a dog eventually.  I saw a little black Lab cross puppy.  She was the last of an entire litter of puppies that had been brought in.  I had wanted a Lab cross, because they are absolutely amazing family dogs.  We'd had one purebred and a few crossbreeds, so I know firsthand how awesome they are.

I decided to take her home that same day.  So my husband built her a box and I bought all the supplies and she sat in my lap quietly as my sister drove us home.

Sean, who was one at the time, thought she was great.  Noah, on the other hand, showed no indication that he even noticed she was there.  It was the first glaring proof for us that he was autistic.  It took three months before he would even look at her.

The first two days were great, aside from the barking and whining.  After that, our little Eva (named so because it was the only female name I knew for sure that Noah could say, from the movie "Wall-e") turned into a nutcase.  She would chase the kids and knock them down and chew on their necks.  She would hook her paws around the front of their legs and gnaw on the backs of their knees.  A few short encounters and Sean was starting to show that he was afraid of her.  The last thing I wanted was a dog which was agressive towards my kids, and kids who were afraid of the family dog.

Fortunately for the entire family, my best friend is a dog trainer.  So I called her alot for advice and got her signed up for puppy classes right away.  If not for those classes, I'm sure I would have returned her to the SPCA in the first six months.  I kept Eva and the kids separated unless I could directly supervise their interaction.

In class Eva taught me a few things I desperately needed to learn.  When she would get easily distracted and lose focus I would get angry and rammy with her.  This only proved to make the situation worse.  I learned to back up and reward her for the little things in order to get her (and myself) refocused and calmed down.  It was a truly valuable lesson that I apply when dealing with Noah at his bad times.  Instead of yelling and getting angry (which, truth be known, I still do sometimes) I will give both Noah and I a time out.  I put him in his room alone until he settles down, and we're both the better for it.  If not for Eva and her "ADHD" I had to learn to deal with, I honestly think I could have become an abusive parent.

As Eva has grown, so also has she mellowed.  She's easier to work with and doesn't bark as much.  She will never be calm enough to be a support dog for Noah, but she's been a great support dog for me.  She stays outside most of the day, but she sleeps inside at night.  I know if anyone was to come in our house, she would bark, and I would know something was wrong.  So I don't check the locks over and over again at night.  She gets me out of the house, whether going to train, or just for a walk.

I don't walk her as often as I should, but I'm working on improving that.  I try to take her to my parents' acreage once a week so she can run, in any case.  She's not the calm, low-energy dog I was looking for when I got her, but I made a committment, and I've stuck to it.  We're both learning and improving as we go.

Noah will play with her now.  He looks at her and smiles and runs away in an effort to get her to chase him.  And she does.  She's pretty good with personal space now, only running the kids over on the rare occasion.  And she "calls off" well.  If I tell her "off", even from a ways away, she backs off.

I didn't get the dog that I wanted.  But I learned so much from the one that I got.  And she's my Eva, and I love her.  I will have her for the rest of my life and I will take good care of her the whole time.  Cuz she takes care of me.

-Nan

Love Letter

This one's for you, Derek.

Our relationship hasn't been the easiest, or really very romantic.  Neither of us are particularly good at grand gestures.  I know you're incredible with the little ones though.  And those are the ones that count.

We were pregnant 8 months into our relationship.  That's less than a year after the first time we met.  I remember telling you, and your response was, "Yay!".  And you meant it.  You were the first to change Noah's diaper.  (I believe you changed the second and third as well...)  You used to place his tiny body, clad only in a diaper, on your bare chest, and snuggle with him under a blanket.  You are one of, if not the, best father I have ever known.

You give the very best hugs in the world.  I can't even describe them.  When you hold me like that, you make the best things in the world even better, and the worst experiences a little more bearable.

You are one of the most supportive people in the world.  You encourage me to get out of the house more often for my own sanity's sake.  You put up with my crap.  You let me be bossy, even out in public.  I rarely hear you complain that the house isn't clean enough.  (Which it never is, truth be known.)  Or that I haven't cooked dinner.  (Again.)  You understand my obsessive personality and put up with my endless talking about this or that movie or actor or video game that is my most recent obsession.

You get my sense of humour.  I love that I can be watching a movie with you and I can just look at you and grin and not need to speak.  I can tell by the look on your face that you're thinking the same thing that I am.  I love those little moments.  And that I can spout random quotes out of the blue and you get the humour, and don't think I'm odd.  'Cause you're odd too.

And I love that you let me know when I've crossed the line and when I get too pushy.  You let me feel like I'm in control without letting me turn into a tyrant.  I really need both of those things; to feel in control, and to not become a tyrant.

Honey, you let me be me while encouraging me to be better. 

You think I'm beautiful even though I'm 35 pounds heavier than when we met.  You think I'm sexy even when I don't feel sexy.  (Though sometimes that does get obnoxious.)  You are honest with me, and (most of the time) tactful enough about it not to be hurtful.

When we discovered that Noah very likely was autistic, you didn't blink.  You love our children for who they are, not who you want them to be.  It is a rare and incredible trait.

I love you so much, Derek.  I am blessed to be married to my best friend.  I know I am difficult to live with, but I am trying to be better.  And maybe through the years we can be better together: better parents.  Better spouses.  Better friends.

It's only been a few years, but here's to many, many more.

I love you with all my heart,
                                                Nan

Frustrated

I was somewhat afraid to write anything today.  I found out this morning that my son's preschool will be closing at the end of the month.  This means that all the great progress we have made this year might as well go straight out the window.  Being autistic, Noah has difficulty adjusting to new situations.  It took him four months to get used to the class he is in now, and it is in the same place and with the same teacher's aide he has last year.  So even if he gets a new placement, I doubt he will make any further progress through school.


So the bombshell that his school is closing I recieved this morning with no advanced warning has thrown me into extreme emotional turmoil.  I was afraid to write, at the risk that the post would turn into an angry tirade, and I do not really want those kinds of feelings out there for anyone to see.  It wouldn't reflect well on me.


My immediate reaction to unexpected events is to assume the worst and worry myself into a tizzy.  I have given myself time to think, and now believe that the situation is not necessarily as dire as I thought.  There is still time and multiple ways to save the program.  We'll see what we can do tomorrow.


I also assumed that I would have to do this on my own.  I was sorely mistaken in that regard.  Happily so!  My husband has called in anyone who might know anything, and he's booked tomorrow morning off so he can talk to the people directly involved.  I am so glad to hand the reins of this problem over to someone else.  I am usually the one who handles the stuff to do with Noah's treatment, because Derek works full time, and I stay at home to raise the kids.  It's nice that he chose to get involved just at the time when I need him most.  By God, but I love that man.


So I've had time to get the tears and the anger out, and I'm thinking rationally, so it's time to leave the entire problem in the capable hands of my Lord.  He's always been in control anyway.


Hope you're having a better day than I am.


With Love,
   -Nan

First Post

Now that I finally picked a name, I have no idea what to write.

I find it obnoxious to read a person's blog and have them not properly introduce themselves in the first post, so here goes:

I am 29 years old, a married mother of two boys, ages 4 and 2 1/2.  The oldest was diagnosed with Autism almost a month ago.  I have lived in Canada my whole life.  I was raised Catholic, and consider myself Catholic, though some of my beliefs differ from most other Catholics.

I plan on writing whatever comes to mind, so I will doubtlessly write about all of the above things and more.  I will very likely get up on a soapbox from time to time, though hopefully not so often as to get boring.  I write my thoughts, so please don't take my own life situation and how I choose to handle it as advice.  I imagine I will write about Autism often, because my life often is dictated by my son's condition.  I am by no means an expert on the subject, and may try some unorthodox things to help him cope.

I love my husband and my sons very much, and I am very close to my family.  I love to read, play video games, and watch my Toronto Maple Leafs play hockey.  (And by "play hockey", I mean mostly lose.  <sigh>)  I am overweight and have recently started excercising in the hopes of getting back to a healthy weight and feeling more energised and better about myself.  We'll see how that goes.

I called the blog "Finding My Voice" because of a number of things.  I used to be painfully shy.  It took until I was 18 years old for me to hold a comfortable conversation with a stranger.  I can be very outspoken now, but I still feel very awkward in new situations, and am very unsure of myself socially.  Last year I was asked to write and give a talk at a religious retreat, and rediscovered my love of writing.  So that's why I started a blog.  I feel that I need to write.  I have something to say.  Not necessarily something that desperately needs to be heard, mind you.

I chose nanspeaks as the address for my blog because Nan is a nickname those very close to me use, and I've felt for a number of years that "Nan" is the name of my true self.  So this is Nan writing this blog.  My true self is finding her voice.  I am interested to see what I may have to say.

So for now at least, this is my online diary, to help get my thoughts out, and see where my writing takes me.  Thank you for taking the time to read my random blathering.  We'll see if I can get more entertaining as I go.

With Love,
         -Nan