I love my family. Each member of our family is so very different and unique and fun. We have so many funny stories, some of them almost hard to believe that they are even true. One day, I will have to do a blog about some of those. But for some of you wanting a small nugget, here are some quick things I have learned over the last few years. Desitin (bottom cream) makes excellent hair gel. It can keep a curl FOREVER. Dawn detergent makes LOTS of bubbles and is VERY slippery when all over the kitchen floor. Baby powder all over my clothes closet is incredibly hard to clean up. In fact, I still ocassionally put on a shirt and see the white powder. It takes about 45 minutes to wet vac my kitchen when SOMEONE overflows the kitchen sink (of my former home). Flushing kid's underwear down the toilet WILL create a massive clog, but the plumbers find it amusing. A 6 month old can in fact, swim in a huge puddle of apple juice (almost a full gallon of it). By the way, that takes about 15 minutes to wet vac up off of the kitchen floor. Any dessert sitting on the kitchen counter, even if it is wrapped up, IS fair game to any passersby. The wet spot on the wood living room where I cleaned Chocolate brownies makes Cami slip and fall. Having 3 boys in diapers makes for a lot of smelly moments. All that said, I love my kids and I can now laugh hysterically at those times.
I like to laugh. No, I love to laugh. I am thankful that all of my kids have provided many moments to giggle. However, usually laughter didn't occur at the very MOMENT some of the above mishaps took place, but now they are funny. As proud moms, we all enjoy celebrating the sweet milestones in our kids' lives. First time rolling over, first steps, first tooth, first birthday, first day of school. Such precious and proud times for parents. And I am no exception. We have tons of pictures, however, by the time we got to Carter, the pictures are fewer and further between. But we have still been able to capture important times with him. The Bennett's have passed all of the 1st birtdays with our boys, but I know many more milestones are to come with each one and I am really looking forward to sharing those with them.
However, sometimes the large milestones just aren't as important as they once were. Please don't misunderstand. ALL milestones are monumental, but sometimes there is a need to celebrate the small stuff. When it comes to Oliver, we have to do just that. We are in the beginning stages of realizing that he may need some additional help and there may be a diagnosis by the time we finish this whole process. But in the meantime, we are learning to find ways to encourage, nurture, and love Oliver the best way we know how. His favorite pajamas are Batman pajamas. Not any Batman pajamas. But ones that used to belong to Zander, so that makes them about 7 years old. At first, Beau and I were trying to soothe Ollie by allowing him to wear them EVERY SINGLE night. They are getting too small, the elastic is wearing out on the waistband, and quite frankly, they just are not that pretty anymore. But recently, Beau and I decided that we would lovingly explain to him that we can't always wear the same pajamas. Sometimes, we have to do things that we don't like or don't feel comfortable doing. Afterall, the world does not allow us to wear our Batman pajamas everyday. Teachers do not allow us to do what we want. Bosses don't put up with "our" way of doing things. So, we felt like we were helping Oliver. Let's just say we had about a week worth of nights with total meltdowns. I mean, the crying, throwing fits, screaming, begging, kinds of meltdowns. They never lasted under 30 minutes. But finally, Oliver has completely submitted to saying bye bye to the Batmans. This is a milestone for him and we are soooo proud.
We use different colored plastic plates for our 3 youngest boys. At first, it was fun. Each child got to pick their color for their meal and everyone was happy. Then, at one point, Oliver decided he would only use a green plate. That's fine, as long as nobody else wants that green plate. At first, we again tried to keep peace and comfort Ollie and allowed him the green plate. It was becoming easier to reason with Carter, our 2 year old, why HE couldn't have the green plate than it was to reason with Oliver. But again, Beau and I felt we were does a disservice to Ollie. He can't function in a world when he always gets his way. So, now when we put out the plates, each boy gets the same color. Oliver no longer gets to choose a color and we no longer have meltdowns. Another milestone. And we are soooooo proud of him.
This past Saturday, Ollie got to play for the first time on a soccer team. Beau and I were bracing ourselves because we really didn't know what to expect. Was he going to cry? Get mad? Run off? Be confused? There were so many possible scenerios and Beau and I were trying to be prepared for all of them. But then something amazing happened. Oliver had the absolute best time. With a huge smile on his face, he kicked that ball all over the field and he even scored a goal (however, he scored the goal for the opposing team!!). But the point is, he had fun. He didn't hold back. We saw a side of Oliver that was fun and "normal". What a milestone. And we are sooooo proud of him.
I heard a friend say recently that in dealing with her autistic children, she has finally learned that she must change her expectations. I think I am there. However, I also know that with every small milestone that Oliver passes, it is reason for huge celebration. And each time, I will be sooooo proud.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Friday, September 9, 2011
Letting Pride Get in My Way
I think that when most women imagine what their future families are going to be like, none of them envision having children with "issues". They don't think about their childrens' disobedience, or their bad behaviors. Future moms, including myself, dreamt of the game nights, family vacations, play dates, academic successes, hanging out at the ballfields, and grandchildren.
When Beau and I had Zander, we had a slight setback in the beginning as we were awaiting a clean bill of health (which didn't come until he was about a year old). But after that, Beau and I made up for lost time. We took Zander everywhere with us. He was that kid that was easy. He loved people and people loved him. He was ALMOST always well behaved. I believe we had to leave a restaurant one time due to a complete meltdown. Otherwise, Zander was the kid that other adults would comment favorably about. Now, please don't think that I am that naive mom who thinks her child is perfect. He certainly has his obedience issues, as any child does. Zander carried on very mature conversations with adults. Beau and I were so proud of him....in fact, we still are.
Then, we were lucky enough to adopt William. Although Will is far more spunky than Zander was at that age, Will is still very well behaved (when it counts). In public places, Will acts beyond his years, mostly. He has that charm that old women and young girls love. He is funny, cute, and engaging. He is much like Zander was at that age. Will can carry on a conversation as well and adults enjoy talking to him. So, again, Beau and I are very proud.
Then we come to our sweet Oliver. When Oliver came to live with us, Zander was 9 and Will was 1 and Ollie was 6 months. Since, at this point, I was outnumbered, I didn't leave the house very often. In fact, I stayed home as much as possible. As the boys became older, and theoretically more manageable, I still stayed home more. I told myself it was simply too much to juggle with 3 boys where 2 were under the age of 18 months. Oliver was and still is a very endearing little boy, however, we run into many little behaviors that have to be managed delicately.
Then, once again, our family was blessed with another child. This time, it was Carter. He came to us when he was just 2 months old and at that point, Zander was 10, Will was 2, and Ollie was 18 months. I only thought I was busy and homebound before. But now, I was seriously busy and almost never ventured out of the house. 3 carseats, 3 sets of diapers, 1 huge diaper bag, and no shopping carts that would adequatley accomodate 3 little ones.
I now had a 2 year old that was "Mr. Independent", an 18 month old who wanted to be "Mr. Independent" but got mad if I treated him and lessor, and a 2 month old that needed EVERYTHING from me. My previous days where I spent time with each one intentionally and purposefully singing, playing, and teaching them quickly turned into "managing" them.
Through all of this, months passed and Oliver developed new behaviors. Behaviors that required creative parenting. New skills like teaching coping, dealing with change, compromising, and handling disappointments. For me, I had to go to God daily for patience. Lots of patience.
Anyway, as you know, we as a family have endured a lot during this past year. But, finally, we are all together and working on normalcy. I am thankful for us being together, but I am not sure we will ever achieve "normalness". I have had time to reflect on the past year, and even the past 2 years. I have realized that those times I didn't go places wasn't because it was hard to manage 3 little ones. I mean, yes, it is hard to manage 3, but I was more fearful of having to try to explain away and justify behaviors to other people. I was fearful of the looks I might receive. I was fearful people would think I was a bad mom. I didn't want people to think what I was already feeling. It's always the mom's fault, isn't it?
Then we moved to New Hampshire and we are attending a sweet little church that Beau found for our family. This church is made up of genuine, God-loving people that are completely endearing. These people have truly gone our of their way to make the Bennett's feel welcome and have included us in their circles. Until I moved here, the church was awesome at "looking after" my Beau and Zander. They were invited for home cooked meals, 4th of July barbeques, and Bible studies. I was so thankful for them during our time of separation because I knew Beau had help if he ever needed it. Because of the size of the church, there was no children's church. All of the children sat quietly and calmly during service....the entire time. Children of all ages, yes, toddlers too sat next to their mommys and daddys and listened to the sermon. Now, I know they didn't understand much, but the fact that they could behave for that amount of time was shocking to me. In fact, intimidating.
Now, because this church has sincerely tried to minister to our family and help make us feel welcomed, they decided that they wanted to start a children's church. At first, I was so excited. But I soon realized that this program was being started for the sole purpose of accomodating MY children. MY children who wouldn't be able to sit still and behave long enough in church. MY children. We had become THAT family. You know the one I am talking about. The family that everyone else looks upon and thinks poorly of. I was so humiliated, saddened, embarassed, and discouraged.
So, my initial response to this was to hide from the situation and not return to this church. The very church where I was already falling in love with the people and was already beginning to build some sweet relationships. So, Sunday morning rolled around. I begrudingly showered, got dressed, and ate breakfast. But all through this process, I was mad and crying all at the same time. I DID NOT WANT TO GO TO CHURCH AND FACE ALL THOSE PEOPLE. Beau, being the wise, rational, and loving husband that he is, explained to me that I was making much more out of this than I needed to. He felt that God was working on something for us and for the church. In fact, he very honestly, lovingly, and brutally pointed out to me that I was being prideful. Well, that's an ugly sentence to lay on poor, victimized me. I mean, afterall, I was hurting. I finally made it very clear to the family that I was not going to church and in fact, I was quitting church. So, Beau responded very candidly. He MADE ME drive to the church and explain why we wouldn't be returning. I spitefully did just that. Or planned to at least. I prayed all the way there. I wanted to quit. I wanted to climb into a hole and pretend none of this existed. I prayed that God would give me the right words and right attitude once I began speaking. I prayed he would soften my heart and heal my pain. I prayed he would simply FIX my children. I certainly didn't want to say anything hurtful to anyone. Afterall, they were only trying to help. I knew in my mind that my hurt was self induced but I didn't know what to do.
I parked, wiped away my tears, and slowly walked up the long drive way to the small, quaint, church. I still didn't know what I was going to say all the way up until I sat down across the table from the pastor's wife. But suddenly, I was filled with words and peace. God granted me the calmness to get through the conversation. But more importantly, God gave Sue the exact right words and expressions to melt my fears. With just a few kind, gentle, loving words, I completely forgot why I was feeling to badly. Sue exlained to me that they felt God was using our family to prepare them for new things. Perhaps new families to come to the church. She showed me the rooms that they had prepared during that week for our children. These rooms were somehow filled with toys, books, and tables for activities. Sue also explained how so many people volunteered to help out in the children's rooms, that she actually had to turn some away.
I left that morning with a whole new sense of humilty. I WAS being prideful. Beau WAS right. We are all called to minister to people. But sometimes, it is us, who need to be ministered to. I forgot that all this fostering and adopting WAS our ministry and our church was simply trying to minister to the Bennetts. I also forgot that God uses us in many different ways. I don't know HIS plan for our church, but now, if another family visits expecting a children's church, we have one. If I have to be THAT family, I sincerely hope it is for God's glory and not my own.
Later that afternoon, I was still trying to process all of this. I had a conversation with my dear friend, Cami. She said almost exactly what Beau and Sue had said earlier. However, even though they were mostly the same words, she has a way of really making me hear them and believe them. I am so thankful for a friend like her. She can tell me my shirt looks wrong on me, point out my crooked thinking, and yet, I love her more for it. I am thankful for her honesty and kindness.
I am very lucky to be surrounded by wise friends, dedicated family, and a loving church. I am already planning my next blog....so watch out.
When Beau and I had Zander, we had a slight setback in the beginning as we were awaiting a clean bill of health (which didn't come until he was about a year old). But after that, Beau and I made up for lost time. We took Zander everywhere with us. He was that kid that was easy. He loved people and people loved him. He was ALMOST always well behaved. I believe we had to leave a restaurant one time due to a complete meltdown. Otherwise, Zander was the kid that other adults would comment favorably about. Now, please don't think that I am that naive mom who thinks her child is perfect. He certainly has his obedience issues, as any child does. Zander carried on very mature conversations with adults. Beau and I were so proud of him....in fact, we still are.
Then, we were lucky enough to adopt William. Although Will is far more spunky than Zander was at that age, Will is still very well behaved (when it counts). In public places, Will acts beyond his years, mostly. He has that charm that old women and young girls love. He is funny, cute, and engaging. He is much like Zander was at that age. Will can carry on a conversation as well and adults enjoy talking to him. So, again, Beau and I are very proud.
Then we come to our sweet Oliver. When Oliver came to live with us, Zander was 9 and Will was 1 and Ollie was 6 months. Since, at this point, I was outnumbered, I didn't leave the house very often. In fact, I stayed home as much as possible. As the boys became older, and theoretically more manageable, I still stayed home more. I told myself it was simply too much to juggle with 3 boys where 2 were under the age of 18 months. Oliver was and still is a very endearing little boy, however, we run into many little behaviors that have to be managed delicately.
Then, once again, our family was blessed with another child. This time, it was Carter. He came to us when he was just 2 months old and at that point, Zander was 10, Will was 2, and Ollie was 18 months. I only thought I was busy and homebound before. But now, I was seriously busy and almost never ventured out of the house. 3 carseats, 3 sets of diapers, 1 huge diaper bag, and no shopping carts that would adequatley accomodate 3 little ones.
I now had a 2 year old that was "Mr. Independent", an 18 month old who wanted to be "Mr. Independent" but got mad if I treated him and lessor, and a 2 month old that needed EVERYTHING from me. My previous days where I spent time with each one intentionally and purposefully singing, playing, and teaching them quickly turned into "managing" them.
Through all of this, months passed and Oliver developed new behaviors. Behaviors that required creative parenting. New skills like teaching coping, dealing with change, compromising, and handling disappointments. For me, I had to go to God daily for patience. Lots of patience.
Anyway, as you know, we as a family have endured a lot during this past year. But, finally, we are all together and working on normalcy. I am thankful for us being together, but I am not sure we will ever achieve "normalness". I have had time to reflect on the past year, and even the past 2 years. I have realized that those times I didn't go places wasn't because it was hard to manage 3 little ones. I mean, yes, it is hard to manage 3, but I was more fearful of having to try to explain away and justify behaviors to other people. I was fearful of the looks I might receive. I was fearful people would think I was a bad mom. I didn't want people to think what I was already feeling. It's always the mom's fault, isn't it?
Then we moved to New Hampshire and we are attending a sweet little church that Beau found for our family. This church is made up of genuine, God-loving people that are completely endearing. These people have truly gone our of their way to make the Bennett's feel welcome and have included us in their circles. Until I moved here, the church was awesome at "looking after" my Beau and Zander. They were invited for home cooked meals, 4th of July barbeques, and Bible studies. I was so thankful for them during our time of separation because I knew Beau had help if he ever needed it. Because of the size of the church, there was no children's church. All of the children sat quietly and calmly during service....the entire time. Children of all ages, yes, toddlers too sat next to their mommys and daddys and listened to the sermon. Now, I know they didn't understand much, but the fact that they could behave for that amount of time was shocking to me. In fact, intimidating.
Now, because this church has sincerely tried to minister to our family and help make us feel welcomed, they decided that they wanted to start a children's church. At first, I was so excited. But I soon realized that this program was being started for the sole purpose of accomodating MY children. MY children who wouldn't be able to sit still and behave long enough in church. MY children. We had become THAT family. You know the one I am talking about. The family that everyone else looks upon and thinks poorly of. I was so humiliated, saddened, embarassed, and discouraged.
So, my initial response to this was to hide from the situation and not return to this church. The very church where I was already falling in love with the people and was already beginning to build some sweet relationships. So, Sunday morning rolled around. I begrudingly showered, got dressed, and ate breakfast. But all through this process, I was mad and crying all at the same time. I DID NOT WANT TO GO TO CHURCH AND FACE ALL THOSE PEOPLE. Beau, being the wise, rational, and loving husband that he is, explained to me that I was making much more out of this than I needed to. He felt that God was working on something for us and for the church. In fact, he very honestly, lovingly, and brutally pointed out to me that I was being prideful. Well, that's an ugly sentence to lay on poor, victimized me. I mean, afterall, I was hurting. I finally made it very clear to the family that I was not going to church and in fact, I was quitting church. So, Beau responded very candidly. He MADE ME drive to the church and explain why we wouldn't be returning. I spitefully did just that. Or planned to at least. I prayed all the way there. I wanted to quit. I wanted to climb into a hole and pretend none of this existed. I prayed that God would give me the right words and right attitude once I began speaking. I prayed he would soften my heart and heal my pain. I prayed he would simply FIX my children. I certainly didn't want to say anything hurtful to anyone. Afterall, they were only trying to help. I knew in my mind that my hurt was self induced but I didn't know what to do.
I parked, wiped away my tears, and slowly walked up the long drive way to the small, quaint, church. I still didn't know what I was going to say all the way up until I sat down across the table from the pastor's wife. But suddenly, I was filled with words and peace. God granted me the calmness to get through the conversation. But more importantly, God gave Sue the exact right words and expressions to melt my fears. With just a few kind, gentle, loving words, I completely forgot why I was feeling to badly. Sue exlained to me that they felt God was using our family to prepare them for new things. Perhaps new families to come to the church. She showed me the rooms that they had prepared during that week for our children. These rooms were somehow filled with toys, books, and tables for activities. Sue also explained how so many people volunteered to help out in the children's rooms, that she actually had to turn some away.
I left that morning with a whole new sense of humilty. I WAS being prideful. Beau WAS right. We are all called to minister to people. But sometimes, it is us, who need to be ministered to. I forgot that all this fostering and adopting WAS our ministry and our church was simply trying to minister to the Bennetts. I also forgot that God uses us in many different ways. I don't know HIS plan for our church, but now, if another family visits expecting a children's church, we have one. If I have to be THAT family, I sincerely hope it is for God's glory and not my own.
Later that afternoon, I was still trying to process all of this. I had a conversation with my dear friend, Cami. She said almost exactly what Beau and Sue had said earlier. However, even though they were mostly the same words, she has a way of really making me hear them and believe them. I am so thankful for a friend like her. She can tell me my shirt looks wrong on me, point out my crooked thinking, and yet, I love her more for it. I am thankful for her honesty and kindness.
I am very lucky to be surrounded by wise friends, dedicated family, and a loving church. I am already planning my next blog....so watch out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)