Peacetime

Not sure if all families would call dinnertime, "Peacetime", but tonight, in our house, it was.

We began by reading a variety of several mealtime prayers. We've had goal of adopting one for our family. One which would be displayed on the wall in the kitchen to be recited in unison at all meals. We found one tonight that we all loved and are working on memorizing it together.

"Lord Jesus Christ
You blessed us with five loaves and two fish
Bless this food we share
Place Your peace in our hearts
and your love in our lives. Amen."

After dinner we began reading My First Message and then used clay to artistically portray something that God first created. I made a sun. George, a whale. Harper, a fish. Zane. Zane. Zane. Well, it was a big ball of clay with two eyes and a pencil sticking out the bottom. First he said is was a "circle tree". We're not quite sure, but, well, that's not the point, right? The point was that we all enjoyed a peaceful dinnertime, devotion, and some hand's on creativity around the table.

When asked the question, "If you could create something, what would you make?" Harper answered "A mechanical dog. So it would always do what I say."

And when asked what we are most thankful for with regards to God's creation? Zane, of course, answered "Lions".

And Harper's answer?

"Life."

Peacetime accomplished.

Validation, Recommendations, and Rejuvination

I didn't have to teach this morning.

I awoke, gave the children breakfast, drank my coffee, got Harper and Zane out the door and then enjoyed the quietness of a house all to myself. ALL TO MYSELF!

I colored my hair (I have no problem admitting this), got on the elliptical, took a shower, watched Oprah until the President interrupted the broadcast with his bumbling attempts at public speaking (but I listened), had some more coffee, filled a Mary Kay order, and am now, sitting down to write.

The morning was MINE!

This morning I awoke feeling VALIDATED. I do indeed have a maternal gut that I can trust. I do indeed know my child quite intimately. I am indeed an advocate for my precious daughter. My research was not in vain. My discovery that she has behaviors which communicate anxiety and adhd have been validated by Dr. Jha, who through this process of evaluation has been warm, friendly, informed, professional, caring, and complimentary . . . apparently, according to her, I am a good "historian" of Harper. Well, come on, the cord may be cut, but that invisible connection is still attached!

This morning I awoke with RECOMMENDATIONS for Harper. On Monday, we will be discussing medication, further therapy for the anxiety, and academic testing as we continue driving down this unfamiliar road, of which I'm having a bit of an easier time navigating.

This morning I awoke with a feeling of REJUVINATION. As a person who thinks in black and white (with, admittedly, a lot of emotion and drama sprinkled in), having a plan and direction gives me a feeling of freedom. Through this process, I have poured my efforts and energy into Harper and Zane. I have grown to crave time with them. At the same time, however, I have done so at the detriment of my personal health. Eating whatever is around, no exercise, paralyzing myself in front of the TV so that I don't have to think. This morning, in contrast, I took care of myself. It felt nice.

Spring.

Sure, once again, the weather report is calling for snow tonight.

But, through the snow, I see green sprouts of Spring in our home's climate.

The sprouts are tiny. But they are PRESENT and they will GROW.

"So let us know. Let us press on to know the Lord. His going forth is as certain as the dawn. And He will come to us like the rain. Like the SPRING rain, watering the Earth." (Hosea 6:3 NAS)

So let us press on to know the Lord.

A Swift Kick In the Snowpants

I reread my blog from last night, and while it is an honest portrayal of how I'm currently feeling, I realized that it communicated someone void of hope. I, on the waaaay other hand, am NOT void of hope. This is where things take a dramatic turn with regards to how I choose to respond and handle the difficulties of life. For I may wallow for a moment, but then due to my faith, I get up. Time and time again. I just get up. Sometimes that's all you can do. Stand up. At least I can do that. God can then move me forward. He did that today.

Read on.

As a believer in God, I do NOT for a moment believe that He has abandoned walking with us through this season. I haven't once questioned Him about why Harper is the way she is. (I'm not saying it isn't ok to question, I'm just saying that I haven't.) While my writings may sound as if I am depleted all all the hope within me, the truth is, I am not. The feelings of fatigue and frustration are most definitely present, but the TRUTH of God's presence is the anchor onto which I cling.

Today, I got a swift butt-kickin'.

She doesn't realized that she gave me a swift butt-kickin', but indeed, Kim Klamm did indeed do just that.

The foot she used was the Word of God. I can't say it hurt. But it did sting a bit and managed to propel me forward and knock a bit more sense into me.

Her text today: Psalm 139. I have to admit, there are certain scriptures that I tend to ignore because they seem so overused, over taught, and over dramatized. This is one of them. "Oh, I am so fearfully and wonderfully made!"

Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all about a zillion times.However, today, I realized that I am not treating Harper or speaking about her as if I believe she is a unique design crafted by God - she is the work of His hands. God sees all of us as unique designs in which there are no mistakes. And while I do feel a great pride in both of my children, I don't think I've been communicating how beautiful I see Harper to be. Her Artist crafted such a brilliant, creative, enthusiastic, engaging, curious, thoughtful, empathetic, person when He formed her, and I would be well to share that with her. She is not a work of art for which I can take credit. God knit both of my treasures and has entrusted me to love and nuture and protect these precious pieces with His leading and His guiding and His strength.

I marvel when I look at her.I want her to marvel in who God has made her to be. What is Harper's perspective of herself?

I wonder if I've been secretly hoping that Harper's design would change. And it is this thought that triggers the question: Whose design for Harper am I desiring?

Mine. The facade of a socially well adjusted child who is competely adaptable in all situations and enjoys and excells in academic, physical, and creative extra-curricular activities. I could go on an on, but quite frankly (butt kick), I'm describing (butt kick) a robot (butt kick).

I do love her the way she is. Forgive me for being "that" Mom, but I have a really cool kid. My inner drive is based on a desire that she will learn to love herself and build confidence (not vanity) about who she is, and who she will become. It is the outer drive, the application of this inner drive, that I need to flesh out.

So, know that while I struggle, my deepest desire is that she would truly know her Artist and that she is, indeed, a work of art. And while God may be needing to do some restorations right now, she is still a rare, unique, one of a kind design.

Priceless.

Needing An Emotional Thaw

Okay, so if you've been keeping up with my blog, you already know that we're struggling to find a diagnosis and treatment for Harper. And while we are very assured that there is something going on in that head of hers for which she needs help, today, I tested her a bit. I wanted to experiment with pushing her buttons.

I know, I know, this sounds so mean. Just wait.

Feeling compelled to find out whether some of her behaviors at home are due to, as we so eloquently put it, "that tricky brain" or whether she's just being a cleverly disobedient 7 year old, I decided to challenged her every time she whined, told me no, refused to comply, or said she was tired.

I didn't yell. I didn't shout. I did speak firmly and held my ground.

I sent her to her room to calm down every time she countered me. And it's not like I was asking her to do anything out of the ordinary.

What I found is that she just didn't want to do what I asked and actually used the line, "Mom! Why won't you support me in this!" (a reference to "tricky brain") out of frustration when I wouldn't cave.

I told her that I was very supportive of helping her. Please! Of ALL people, God knows I'm all about helping her. I also told her that her ability to obey the rules of our home (i.e. homework before electronics, dirty clothes to the hamper, pajamas before TV time, bedtime after books) has NOTHING to do with "tricky brain".

Chicago winters are long.

I feel like our home has been stuck in "winter" for awhile now. We are in a blizzard of emotion and activity. Even wonderful fellowship events like dinner with the Klamm's are windy and cold and icy and unpredictable for me as I never know how Harper will interact with other kids (they have 8. 7 of which were home that night), when I will have to step in, if I should even step in, how to explain her stomping around saying she wants to leave and never come back, or the frequent "I'm bored" comments. I'm constantly on guard that a snowball or avalanche is headed my way. I actually admitted to George that as amazing as I really think Harper is, I just want her to get along with people and play normally with other kids. It always seems like such a chore.

Like shoveling snow.

You get it done, and then, turn around to get hit by another storm.

My head is a constant blizzard. I can't shovel fast enough. The sting of the cold is leaving me numb.

"Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone" Colossians 4:6 (New International Version)

What do you do in the winter when you find you are running out of salt?

We're expecting another 6-9 inches tomorrow night.

Flight ADHD Now Boarding

I am cutting and pasting a recent email sent to me by my sister which describes, so perfectly, an accurate description of ADHD.

Why?

Because we have a very deep crevasse of a hunch, that this is indeed what is contributing to Harper's frustrations and anxiety.

While ADHD is quickly passed off as a behavioral disorder where the kid is merely jumping all over and can't sit still (and, yes, this IS a component), the following reveals a side to ADHD which gets dismissed all too easily:Comprehension and ADHD are linked.

Think of it this way...people usually say that kids with ADHD are very distractible and inattentive. That's actually inaccurate. What they are is hyper-attentive, which means that they are attentive to everything around them, not being able to filter out that which is not relevant for the task at hand.

So a kid with ADHD while trying to do his work is attentive to the pencil sharpener noise, to another kid moving his chair, to the door opening and closing, to the itchiness of his shirt tag against his skin, to his hunger pains, to random thoughts that the work brings to mind. All these things come to the forefront of these kids' minds vying for equal attention. Kids without ADHD may hear/see/feel/think these same things, but are able to file away the random distraction or thought, set it to the side, in order to focus on what they're supposed to. For the child with ADHD, that filter is not there, or has not been "turned on".

So, absolutely, Harper could be "reading"/parroting the words out loud, but not comprehending the story, its details, etc because that tiny, little, amazing brain of hers is going a 100 miles a minute recording and responding to everything around her.

As of yet, we don't know for sure that ADHD is the culprit, but as we document all that has happened with Harper over the past few years, we seem to continually land here.I honestly never thought we'd be on this flight, but we're coming in for a landing, and once we do, we need to find luggage claim and retrieve the right help for my little girl with the travelling mind.

Let's just hope we can find our luggage and get moving!

Comprehension

George has begun reading "The Last Trail" by Zane Grey to the kids. Harper is only somewhat enthused.

Zane, however?

Well, this morning, he picked up the book and said, "In the beginning of this book the Indians ate all the food in the camp."

And, sure enough, this does happen in chapter one.

The most interesting point of all this, however, is that George read this chapter over two weeks ago.

Way to retain little man!Just call him Zane: our little Clif Note.

Artist In Residence

A rocket, wizard, corn (far left).

A crane.