7 years ago I was at Tech. I had my eye on a cutie. I bowled with him at Kennel Night and made him a bet. That bet ended with a first date.
It's crazy how love starts. Cheesy much? But seriously. You're so dadgum smitten and don't even know what's ahead. I remember so clearly that first date at Frothy Monkey. I remember discussing past heartbreaks, Christianity, a need to explore, and dream family size. A hug is all I got when he left me at my door and I remember goosebumps when I saw him on campus the next day. More importantly I remember how giddy I was when his best friend questioned me.
Life happens. October marks 7 years with Kyle. We've been thru so much in such a short time. I have a great friend who will remain nameless that told me that she cries at weddings because they're so beautiful... And because the girl has no idea what's about to happen.
More than life happening, it changes. Love changes. You get married and it's crazy. We were given the best advice: "being a newlywed is a state of mind and not a frame of time". That's the truth. But it's so hard to live it. It's so hard to find the time with two kids and a dog and a house that won't sell and jobs and families and tempers and appointments and laundry and bills and and and...
This week I have to vow to be a wife. Sometimes as mommas I think we forget that. God put Kyle and I together. My kids will leave one day and I'll be back alone with this crazy man and I refuse to not know him.
So, if you're reading this... Remember sometimes it's ok to put kids on the back burner. They'll survive.
Now, I am no photographer and I sure don't know how to "appropriately" edit photos. But today it was beautiful outside and the big kid requested more baseball. So, we played... and I took pictures... and tonight I played with editing. I love these boys.
this my friends is an "open mouth cheesy grin" that came from tickles.
I don't know when he became grown, but good grief I love him.
He throws right handed. He bats left. Watch out world... this kid is gonna be awesome. AND it came with no forcing! He's had all this since February and just started asking to play. I love it.
These are the pictures that make me wonder what's in that mind. He's so intent. He's so beautiful.
My green eyed boy's eyes are turning brown. Maybe they'll be hazel, but lately they've looked mighty brown.
Those three statements are some of the toughest I've swallowed the past few days. I've wallowed. I've cried. I've screamed in my car. I've vented on Facebook (the epitome of a meltdown right?) I've yelled at the unfair screwed up "system".
But what does this change? Not a dadgum thing. Each diagnosis the neurologist read to me was something I knew was coming. (Let's be clear: I called asking for them. I hoped with my whole being that this list of life long difficulties would somehow guarantee him some form of assistance when only it lead to more denials but that's another days worth of complaints...) but still, hearing her say it. Hearing her say words officially makes me feel things I've never felt.
Am I ready to list them? No. Grant me that. The main reason is because I googled after talking to her. Yes, I know better, but after studying childhood diseases and disorders (thank you Child Life degree) I knew enough to know I needed to know more. We've said from day one that cerebral palsy was a possibility so of course that's part. Well, googling only gives worst case and no one is going to look at my kid with a worst case perspective. No one (excuse the momma bear).
But look at him! There's things no one sees but us. Maddox's head is floppy, but he's picking it up from time to time. And, when he picks it up, he doesn't fall backwards! It used to flop every direction. Now? Just forward.
You see those fingers? This is a kid that used to never open his hands. Now? He can lay them flat on a surface when he touches it! He sees his hands finally and recognizes when he touches things.
Toes? Oh the toes... when his feet touch the ground they're flat. It's amazing. No more tip toes.
I could go on and on about things he can do that isn't noticeable to everyone but we don't have time for all that. Just know that tiny steps eventually add up.
Here's the deal. I can grasp a lot of things - he may walk, he may not. He may talk my ear off one day, he may not. He may eat McDonalds happy meals, or he may be tube fed forever. But at the end of the day, I don't care. I don't. Not even a little. I'm not being a pessimist. I'm not counting him out. There's a fine line of realistic optimism that I walk daily... No, every minute. I care what he's doing today. And today? He's sleeping through the night more days than not, we've been seizure free for almost a month, and he doesn't dislike his new chair. People don't understand how priorities change, how to do lists are different, how much you can crave things as simple as a smile for your kids, but I do. Does that make me superwoman? Heck no, it makes me a momma.
It makes me a momma just like everyone else. I'm nothing fancy. I read a blog once about how "special needs kids aren't lucky to have us as parents but we are lucky to have had them as kids." Good grief ain't that the truth. Two years ago I would've looked at me and said what some of my best girlfriends say about not knowing how we do it. But we all rise to challenges. And the best way to "rise" is by letting others help carry the load. (Our family is way better than yours, by the way. All our extendeds on both sides plus our friends are absolutely amazing)
Lastly in my rant of rants... I know not everyone would chose to share like we do, but it's who we are. Maddox is no secret. Maddox is the most quiet superstar I know. But I've never been one to live quietly and maybe that's why I got picked for him. I'll shout his triumphs, struggles, and even days of monotony, because I like to. I like to show off my babies. I like to openly ask for prayer. I like to attempt and give adequate praise to the Author of this story we are living.
I like to be an open screwed up book of imperfections.
See that big kid? He loves his Maddox Ray. And right now, to him, his brother is perfect and his "sweet boy" so my heart is full.
There's a very special moment for mommas. It's a moment we long for. A moment I need. A moment that we hold so very dear to our hearts and our sanity rests upon that one moment. I'm not talking about the first day of school, first steps, or any of that.
For me, it's 11:15pm.
My house gets quiet. No one needs me. All four males that I live with are asleep. (Yes, even the dog) there's an eerie calm that takes over my whole world.
It's in this moment that my husband is relaxed. The weight of his job, current physical ailment, stress, etc is gone. It's in this moment that I stare at the video monitor that blares twinkle twinkle little star and watch Hudson sleep diagonally across his bed. In this brief moment, Maddox resembles him. He's sprawled out and so incredibly beautiful.
In this moment I realize why I love my life and being a wife to this man and a momma to these boys. It's my rest. It's my rejuvenation. This moment before I fall asleep and I get to see all my boys... It's when I get to remind myself how blessed I truly am.
Let's avoid the sappy vibes this month okay? Instead, I need you to know you're a ten month old. Do you hear that? Two more months and you'll be a year??? It's madness I tell you.
Here's what 10 months looks like on you:
- in 9mos clothes
- 4 full teeth, two nubs
- wearing your AFOs daily for 2-3hrs at a time
- completely off the dreaded topamax that made you angry and now on a new one that I currently can't remember the name of
- we've started fish oil for brain development and black seed oil to hopefully help with seizure activity.
- you're trying so hard to sit up! You can assisted but your head still gets heavy. Your muscle tone is improving.
- tummy time is getting better and better!
- when your hand touches something it automatically opens and you open it before it touches the floor in sitting position! And you're looking at the things you touch.
- there's a new "coo" happening! It's usually after a cough or when you're up on my shoulder. It's so sweet and so rare, but oh so beautiful.
- the smile still only comes when tickled (shaking your legs and butt) but it is getting to be bigger
- the worst thing that came with 10 months? The witching hour! You cry 30min-hour every stinking night between 5-8. There's no consoling you. Nothing fixes it. I need this to pass quickly!!!!
Your Gramma Terrie was proud - she got you all propped up!
one of the best so far
I love these toes, these feet, and that stupid tube. Oh, and this is a LeachCo Podster you're laying on... it's pretty fabulous.
be still my heart.
working hard!!!!
I love you kid. I love you so much it freaking hurts.
With each month that passes I realize just how lucky I am to be your momma. I learn patience thru your life. I am trying not to lose my mind and yet teach you to be calm and gentle. I must say in struggling. I spank your butt, put you in time out, and yell. This last week I've washed your mouth with soap. I've tried every Conscious Discipline technique I know and nothing works. I'm inconsistent and ridiculous.
But we are making it. You love to sing, kiss your brother and give me shuugs. You're my favorite 2.5 year old I know. You say prayers, please and thank you, and excuse me.
You're in to everything. You like to play Captain Hook and Jake simultaneously. You even empty toilet paper rolls to have a spyglass/microphone. You insist on cleaning up if Mister poops. You love the dirt, outside, "swimming at Wennys house", and starting to play baseball.
You sing! Oh how you sing! "Mary had a little lamb" "Jesus loves me" "stand up for Jesus" "wheels on the bus" etc etc etc!!!
And you talk. And talk. I love it. You can tell me what hurts, what you want and what you don't, and you can tell me you love me. You know everyone's name and tell me all about your day at school. You tell me you want to go to church. You are my main squeeze.
I always want you to know how much I love you. You really do drive me beautifully insane. I want so badly for you to love this life we have. I want you to always love your brother and your daddy. Today I asked you, "Hudson, one day will you let Jesus live in your heart?" You said "sure momma, my heart is right here. Jesus gonna be there."
You are my big boy. My first main squeeze. I adore you... And that buzz cut.
I love our church. It's that simple. I love what the people inside those four walls believe in and stand for. I admire the man (and his wife) leading that congregation. I am grateful we have a home.
The past two weeks, there have been songs that hit me hard. Music does that, ya know? Music is something I'm not talented with but songs get me. Of course, in this stage in my life, they all seem to relate to Maddox and our journey. God is constantly telling me to just hold on and my answers will come. I can't make it through a church service without tears. I'm turning in to my mother. (haha)
When our preacher posts the podcast of today's sermon, I'm posting it. And, if you read this right now, listen to the podcast when I post it. It was fan-freakin-tastic. And it was so absolutely perfect.
Our worship leader sang this today. I've seen Fireproof. I think it's cheesy and yet, everytime it's on TV, I watch it. The music is good and the storyline is, too. And, let's be honest, Kirk Cameron crying is heartwarming (and even comical on a certain days). But, in all the times I've heard this song, I've never made it applicable to me. To us.
It's hard to explain how I feel toward God. I'm so grateful for my Hudson. I'm grateful for his life, his energy, his stubbornness, his giggle, his... just him. And then there's Maddox. I have so many questions about him. I feel weird to say that I'm grateful for the journey, but I am. I hate (you hear me? HATE) that this journey is his, but I can't help but be grateful for what it's done. In the moments of my life when I feel like I would question "why" more than ever, I'm most accepting of whatever comes. It's because I know that God Is Able (reference to that sermon you're gonna have to listen to soon).
I feel like all posts start to sound a like. "Maddox is doing okay. Maddox is awesome. Maddox is this that and the other. God is good. He's good to us. I'm going to trust. yada yada yada"
But, it's the Truth.
Is God good because my son will probably have a diagnosis of Cerebral Palsy? Do I like THAT? No. But, God is good because my life is the hardest it has ever been and yet I can still get out of bed. God is good because once upon a time I thought my life was going to be meant for travel and big adventures and amazing stories of far off places, but yet He's proving to me that my life is to be a momma. Am I grateful to God because he's made me and Kyle have to endure a life we'd never hoped for the last nine months? Is this some rip-roaring good time? Good grief, no. But, He is good because we have made it. I know that that man is gonna love me when I'm weak, kiss me when I don't deserve it, and sit back and take it when I need to yell. I go to bed at night grateful that God game me that Kyle of mine. I'm grateful because that Kyle of mine kneels with me at the alter while holding our Maddox and prays over him tearfully with me.
So, if you read this, know that I had a plan. I had big plans. But good grief, being forced to sit back and accept a bigger plan is humbling, exciting, terrifying, exhausting, and terribly awesome.
