Samuel has had a great first 2 days at his new therapy school. He has wonderful therapists, and the staff is so friendly. Before we left Katy, we thought that when we returned in March, we’d reenroll him at his facility there. But, after having another place to compare it to, we won’t be doing that. Aspire Autism is more than we could have hoped for, and I anticipate so much growth to happen for our little guy while we are here. 
Maggie had her second day of Tuesday classes. She had a good day, too. And, I’m learning Spanish with her! One of her teachers told me how sweet Maggie is in class, and of course, that made this mama proud. 

Maggie and I found an awesome shop, here in Superior, called Grandrabbits Toys.  It has been around for nearly half a century. It is the toy shop from yesteryear, and it is amazing! There are toys from ceiling to floor, and there is a large section dedicated to sensory needs for children like Sam. I can’t wait for Santa! Maggie got a Magic 8 Ball and some Pop Rocks! It reminded me of my sister, brother, and me when we were kids. I was most excited to see these little whistles. Do y’all remember these? I didn’t even know they still existed. Ha! Maggie has had the best time with them, and Sam loves the sound they make. 

  

I could have browsed for hours. 

I have finally found a place that sells the frames Sam needs for his glasses. So, we will do that tomorrow after therapy. 

After Mag, Sam, and I get back from the zoo field trip on Friday, we are loading up and heading to South Dakota to Mount Rushmore. We found a cute cabin just a few miles away, and we are going to make a weekend of it.  

Things are falling into place. I have more peace this week than last week. But, the air is still killing my nose and skin, and I miss my mama and daddy something awful.  I am still amazed every time I see the mountains as I drive the kids to school. And, Maggie has banned me from saying, “Look at those mountains! I can’t believe the view!” She makes fun of me. Lol 

I have found that downsizing to an apartment has been really nice. I miss my house, but I am a terrible house keeper. The apartment is just big enough, for while we are here, and everyone is really friendly.

That’s the day to day for the Blands at the moment. 

Tomorrow is Samuel’s big 1st day at his new therapy facility. I have been looking forward to this for a week, but I have been dreading it, too. I hate that he will start with a big boo boo on his head, but hopefully his head banging will decrease once he is back into such a structured routine. I am going to miss his kissy, smiley face so much. I cannot begin to imagine what I will do with myself tomorrow. Maggie will have school work, so that will help keep my mind from worrying, hopefully. 

Scott and Maggie spent the day putting up beds and furniture for the apartment. Maggie picked out a full size loft bed from Ikea, for her Colorado adventure, and it was a doozy getting it up. She loves it! I think having her room somewhat finished has helped her deal with Waddles leaving. She had one really sad moment today but was much better than yesterday. Her asthma is the best it has been in nearly a month, too. That has made her feel even better. 

 I was homesick this evening, and we found a little piece of goodness! Popeyes! Ha! It was a bit of a drive, and it was terrible on the diet, but boy was it good! It was good to get out, and in the next couple of weeks, we are going to drive a few hours and stay the weekend in South Dakota, to see Mount Rushmore. We are excited for that! My dad was born in South Dakota, and I have always wanted to go. 

Not much else to report, but I do want to leave this right here, so that I can come back and revisit it when I need to. I love how God just puts his touch on things right when I need them. This is from Jesus Calling, an awesome devotional. 

 

What. A. Day! I posted on Fb earlier today, that my Magpie decided to give her guinea pig, Waddles Fall, a new home. Before we left for CO, she saw an allergist because her congestion and asthma were just awful. She was so miserable. Secretly, I worried that it might have something to do with Waddles, as she had only had him about 2 months, and the symptoms were worsening.  She was having trouble sleeping, too, and his cage was in her bedroom. So, the allergist did the poke test of common allergens, including many grasses. The worst allergy she has, besides mold, is an allergy to timothy grass. It confirmed my suspicion about Waddles, as timothy hay is the main diet for all guinea pigs. It aides in digestion, but it also keeps their ever-growing teeth at bay. She cried when she heard the results, but I agreed that I would handle the hay, and we would see how her allergy medicine worked. 

Last night, she came to Scott and me, crying. She wanted to know if it would be alright to give Waddles a new home. “I am so tired of being sick all of the time,” she said. 

Oh, how we felt for her. This little guy was so loved and lived in the lap of guinea pig luxury. She hand picked his vegetables, she held him, she brushed him, she even strolled him around the house in a grocery cart. 

I cannot express adequately how proud we are of our growing girl. She made such an awfully tough decision, that we as her parents were going to have to make soon. But, she was ready. Her daddy took Waddles to a guinea pig rescue that was fantastic. They were sympathetic and non-judgmental. We donated all of his things, and they were thankful. Scott said that the facility was very clean and everyone was professional and caring. That made Maggie feel a lot better. 

She has cried on and off all day, and when she rested her head on her pillow before sleep, she let it all out. But, this evening she said, “Oh, my nose and chest feel so much better. I did the right thing.” 

I could learn a thing or 2 from this half-grown girl. So, so thankful to be her mother. Hurts me like crazy to see her 10 year old pain. 

We hope that Waddles has a wonderful life with his new friends.  

 

When I was a little girl, I jumped into a pool at a family reunion. I remember thinking that I was headed for shallow water, but I leapt without inspecting which side was deeper. It was only a millisecond, after plunging in, that the panic began. I sank. I sank quickly and silently. There was no thrashing or screaming for help. Thankfully, a man, who was fully clothed, saved me. When my body broke the surface, I breathed. I inhaled so violently and vigorously, that my lungs felt like an inferno. They burned, and the tears came. Sobs and shaking overtook me. My mother was there with me. She wrapped me tightly in her arms. She made it better. 

Since moving to Colorado, 1 week and 3 days ago, Samuel has begun to regress. He has been out of therapy for 3 weeks, and he is losing ground developmentally and emotionally. It is terrifying. He started banging his head again, about 4 days ago. We have gone 2 months without having to use his protective helmet. It started with gently banging his toys to his forehead, and it has now progressed into full-blown wall bashing and floor hitting. It moved quickly from sensory stimming to self-injurous. And, while I was making supper, he hit his head so hard on the kitchen floor, that the sound made my teeth hurt. My jaws ached. I scooped him into my arms and kissed every inch of his baby face. Within a minute, the knot appeared. Within 5 minutes, the knot manifested into a goose egg. I cried. I sank to the floor and wailed. I try so hard to guard and watch for the signs, so that I can intervene before he hurts himself. But, sometimes I can’t. Mostly, I cried, wondering if my precious boy ever feels like he is drowning, too. Does he wish I would deliver him from this agony of sensory imbalance? Does he want to scream out for help? Does he know that I would risk my own life to save his? Does he feel it when I swaddle him in my comfort? Does his mind singe, like my lungs when I gasped for air? Is he racked with helplessness, too? 

He starts therapy at his new facility on Monday. We will have his glasses in the next couple of weeks, too. Please, Lord, hold my baby above the water. Help him to swim, Lord. Help him to swim. 

I am missing my real bed tonight! We ordered a mattress and frame, but this old lady loves her adjustable, squishy bed at home. I am thankful that we have a 3 day weekend together, as a family. We arrived 5 days ago, and 4 of those days seemed an eternity long. Scott has been working long hours, and being in a new place with 2 kids and no furniture was stressful. By next Friday, all of our furniture should be here. Woohoo! I have learned to appreciate so many things that we all take for granted in this life. So many go without basic necessities, and I am miserable with camp chairs in my living room. So, tonight, I praise my heavenly Father for these luxuries. And, I pray to Him for those who have nothing, who hurt, who are hungry, who are cold, who have no family. Lord, please comfort them and take care of them each minute of every day. 

We did get out if the apartment a bit. The kids needed haircuts, and a nice lady named Sue did a good job. Samuel did pretty well. We went to the pet store, too. Samuel loves, loves aquariums. I think Santa might know what to bring him for Christmas. Maggie had an awful headache most of the day, but once she was feeling better, she got to swim. The water had to be 50°. She loved every minute of it, though. I couldn’t make myself jump in! We also drove by Samuel’s new therapy center and Maggie’s Tuesday class location, so I could get a lay of the land.

Pics. (Maggie gets tired of me snapping her picture all the time!)  

  

    
   

 

  

Tomorrow is my mother’s birthday. When I think of my childhood, there are too many precious memories of her to possibly write about them all. But, my most favorite are the subtle things that are simply my mother. 

Homework help always happened at the kitchen table or in the den. If it was written work, my mama would cook supper as she used her teacher voice, aiding us in every subject.  She would rinse and chop vegetables, and my papers had about a dozen dried Debbie index prints the next morning, from her pointing to math problems, spelling words, and study guides.  I always had to explain to my teachers the crinkled spots on my homework.  I love that memory for many reasons. It reminds me that my mother never stopped working. She was up at the crack of dawn and did not stop until her head hit the pillow for sleep. She is still that way, and I admire her for it greatly.

On her way to bed, she would stop in our rooms and gently touch our foreheads. Obviously, I was not always sleeping when she did this, and I counted on it every night. When I was in teenage angst, that small, yet powerful, gesture soothed my heart. And, when I see her now, she still does this when I am feeling down. 

One of the memories that has stayed  so deeply ingrained in my mind is how my mother would browse through clothes when she took me shopping. She’d see things that she liked, but she never bought anything for herself. She went without many times so that we wouldn’t have to. I understand this more and more the longer I am a parent. And, I know now that those times brought her much joy. Even though she left those stores empty-handed, she came home with a full heart. 

My mother has lived her life by following God’s word. She is the most optimistic person I have ever met. She is honest, giving, and the definition of joy. Her guidance and love means the world to me.  She is my best friend, and I love her so big. 

Happy Birthday, Mama. 

   
   

We made it to Colorado. We had 2 decent nights on the road, and we spent a 3rd night in a hotel near our apartment. We picked up the keys yesterday morning, and I snapped this picture from the front doors of the leasing office. I could not believe the beauty of God’s creation.  The apartment we are leasing is nice. It sits in a valley, with beautiful hills, prairie dogs, and bunny rabbits by the hundreds. The trees are full and beautiful, and the walking paths are lovely. There is a lake with paddle boats, too. It is really a community of at least 200 homes, townhomes, and apartments. We are near the town of Broomfield, in Superior. Scott’s job is roughly 10 minutes from here, and it is so neat that he can come home for lunch. 

Maggie is catching up on Little House before homeschooling starts next Monday. She is dying to go swimming, so I think I will take her tomorrow, before it gets chilly in the evening. 

Samuel has had an upset tummy for 2 days, but he seems to be handling things fairly well. 

Mae dog is having a hard time adjusting to being leashed and walked. She is missing her backyard. And, every time the Fedex guy shows up, she bolts outside. Lots of fun chasing her! She isn’t eating much, so we are giving her plenty to drink, and we will find a vet, if she doesn’t improve. I think she is out-of-sorts, like the rest of us. 

We had a maintenance man, who hails originally from Jamaica, come by to fix the dryer. He talked several times to Samuel, and when Samuel didn’t respond, I said, “I’m sorry. He has autism.” 

The man responded with, “What’s autism?” 

In an effort to avoid a long explanation, I simply told him that Samuel is nonverbal. 

He then said,  “So, he is dumb.”            

I, reacting only from a broken mother’s heart, told him that, of course Samuel is not dumb, and in America we do not call children “dumb.” He explained that in Jamaica, when a child can’t speak, that is the term used. I am not sure why, but I burst into tears. He was very apologetic, but my heart was sensitive. 

I have to admit that, although the landscape is magnificent and the air is cool, there is absolutely no mountain in this world that can replace the love of family and friends. And, while I was/am excited for this adventure, I have cried my share of tears today. An empty apartment in Colorado can never compare to a full house in Katy, precious friends nearby, and a sister just a few miles down the road. I have had a myriad of emotions today, as it is stressful keeping both kids content, along with unpacking and having no sense of direction. I am awful in new places. I know that things will settle into a new normal in a few weeks, but for tonight, I long for home. 

Lots of bunnies!    Samuel enjoying the window bench.   

We have 2 nights left in Katy, and then we will be on the road to Denver for the next 7 months. This week has been full of doctors’ appointments and packing. 

I did take time out to enjoy dinner and great conversation with 2 of my favorite girlfriends, Tara and Stacy. We had awesome food at BJs, and we were able to catch up on the last 2 months of our lives. The girls bought dinner and gave me an amazing goody basket for the trip! 

 

A few months back, I read about a faith-based initiative called Project Semicolon.  Check it out:    http://www.projectsemicolon.org/  As an English major and teacher, I have always loved grammar and editing. So, I thought it was really neat that 2 large parts of my life were intertwined in this movement- depression and punctuation. And, something that is near to my heart is raising awareness about depression and OCD. I no longer hide from my illnesses, but they are still very much under-discussed and even taboo in some places. Many people just don’t understand what a life with mental illness entails.

A semicolon is 1 of 3 ways that 2 independent clauses (sentences) can be joined. A comma, along with a conjunction, and a period are the others. 

The semicolon movement states that, “A semicolon represents a sentence the author could have ended, but chose not to. That author is you, and the sentence is your life.”

I chose to seek help for my illness. I didn’t let it win. I entered a program to help me during my pause. And, when I was well enough, I carried on. I may have more pauses. I may have many semicoloned clauses, but I choose to fight. 

I shared with Tara that I had decided to get a tattoo of a semicolon, and she was super supportive.  I didn’t make the decision lightly, as I have never had a tattoo in my life. I have never thought of myself as a tattoo kind of girl; I am pretty plain. I rarely even wear makeup. I knew that by getting a permanent marking, it could never be undone. But, I also knew friends, family, and even perfect strangers may ask me why in the world I had this semicolon etched on my wrist, thus leading to further education about mental illness. 

It was a deeply personal decision, and we 3 amigas took the leap. Tara and I got our semicolons. It was a very emotional time, and tears were shed. Not because of surface pain caused by the needle (well, I did wince a lot), but for the pain that depression causes. We cried for each of our pauses, and for the grace and mercy of our Savior, who gave us the abilty to move forward while in our darkest moments. We cried for a beautiful future, as we each have come a long way. It was even better that Stacy was there to cheer us on and to get her blackbird, too.  The blackbird represents rebirth and renewal, as in Poe’s The Raven, and in my Beatles’ anthem, Blackbird.  I am so thankful for good friends. Love these girls.                  

” Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to arise. ”             

 
  

I am so very thankful to have my maternal grandparents with me still, as I am 37 years old. I treasure this gift. I miss them so much tonight- my Granny and Papaw. I usually see them at least 3 times a year, from November to November. This year was different. I saw them at Thanksgiving, then again at Christmas. But, during our visit home for the 4th of July, Samuel got the flu. My sweet Papaw has cancer, and he, nor my Granny Jane can be exposed to that awful illness, of course. So, I missed seeing them. It has been 8 months since Christmas, and this is the longest span in my life that I have gone without a Papaw hug and a Granny meal. I have not dozed in the living room, to the sound of the clock they have had for 50 or more years. I have not watched hummingbirds feed, from the sun room windows. I have not smelled Shalimar on my Granny’s wrists, and I have not had peas and cornbread. But, what I treasure and miss most is just “being” with them. Just the sound of my Papaw’s voice and my Granny’s laugh. I love the way my children brighten their days.  Their greats- what they call all of their 20 great grandchildren.  These are the moments when I would give just about anything to live back home. But, for now, that is not the journey God has for us, and we are leaving for a new adventure in Denver. I pray that God holds them safe and steady in his care, so that they are ready for us at Christmas. I pray that my Papaw has more “better” days than not. And, I pray that they know how much their love and guidance means to me.  But until then, we will call and facetime. And, when I am homesick, I will imagine their house and the comfort they still bring to this grownup grandchild. 

   
    
    
 

I am overwhelmed! OVERWHELMED! We have so much to do before this move; my head is constantly spinning, which means no sleeping. Apartments, schools, cleaning, packing, furniture ordering, doctors’ appointments, yada, yada, yada. 

Samuel’s last day of therapy in Katy is the 29th, and we are to be in Broomfield, CO, the 1st of September, to move into the apartment we have leased. 

All of this would be stressful and hectic anyway, but when depression rears its ugly face, it exasberates the situation exponentially. My OCD is in full swing, causing unecessary worry, panic, and doubt. I am out of control trying to count everything I have done, making sure it is all “even.”  Two chairs, 4 pillows, checking locks 6 times, making sure my glass has 4 or 8 pieces of ice. It is consuming. I have learned, over the years, to think rationally and to overcome individual moments of this madness.  But when big life changes or decisions come, I just sometimes cannot take hold of that technique. It is exhausting to think  that if I don’t do things in evens, then something awful, horrific, tragic will happen to someone I love. It makes no sense, but it makes complete sense in the moment. Those times make my heart race, my shoulders heavy, and they make me want to crawl under the covers, so that I can’t possibly be responsible for the safety of my family. 

   
 Scott is always so good about seeing the worry in me, and today he gave me a lovely card with this note:  

He would never brag on himself, as he is just so good that way. But, I am thankful that he is my partner, so that I can say how great of a person he is. I appreciate him so much, and I always “joke” that if we were ever to divorce, then my family would keep him, instead of me. I can’t put an “lol” after that sentence because it is probably true. 

I have a good one, and I know his love and prayers for me keep me sane, even when I don’t feel it. I am a lucky girl, who thanks the Lord for such an optimistic, bear-hugging spouse. I think I’ll keep him.