One

Several month ago I attended an amazing event called Women of Faith.  It was my first time attending, and I wasn't sure what to expect.  While the entire experience as a whole was amazing, there was one particular speaker who suction-cupped my heart from the first word that came out of her mouth.

I listened to a group of women who talked about things like Moses being a basket case.  Then a bench warmer.  Then a bushwhacker.  I learned about Birdbath Bob and his crazy shenanigans.  I learned about how things would change if I just.did.what.I.could.  I listened to the amazing Amy Grant's voice soar over our miseries.  Her album was the first CD I ever bought (OOOHHH) and she's still amazing as ever.

And then, Brenda Warner danced across the stage and began sharing her story.

Have you ever listened to a story and felt your stomach tie up in knots, just knowing the story is about to go south at any moment?  Yep-I was feelin' the knots.

If you haven't heard her story-you should.  Really.  In short, her neuro-typical son suffered brain trauma and became blind after slipping out of  her husband's arms after a bath.  Her story is rooted in so much more than that, but its her story to tell-not mine.  Read her book.  Or find her on the street.  Seriously, you should.

My tears began when she said the well-baby check visit was the only appointment she didn't mind....because that was normal and every other mom was taking their child to that appointment.  She shared her life story and how that changed with certain phone calls, her son's birth, her parents deaths, and her marriage to Kurt Warner.

She went on and the suction on my heart became so tight, I lost it.  As in, an almost visceral reaction.  I.could.not.breathe.  I'm pretty sure I was beginning to hyperventilate while trying (with horrible failure) to hold myself together.  Pfff.  Yeah, you look like a bawling moron because you are just that.  Not that moron part, but the bawling part.  My sweet friends, sitting next to me and in front of me, offered hands and squeezes of comfort and love-which made me cry even harder.  This journey has been hard, and it is rare for me to have, much less be forced, to meddle in its rawness.

Her son is now grown and lives in a group home, on his own.  And is thriving.  How do I know?  Because she brought him out at the end of her story.  She bragged on him and shared his amazing personality and sense of humor.  Most of all, his perspective to and for life was refreshing.  He lived.  He thrived. He had a future.  She did it.  Through all the struggle, heartache, crappy phone calls, and her journey with trusting God, she.did.it.

At some point, I felt myself shaking and ran for the bathroom.  You know, whoever decided it was a good idea to put thousands of emotion women in an area with stairs in the dark was just not thinking!  After I did some forced deep breathing and tried to focus my attention on the writing contest poster attached to the stall door, I walked back through the concourse to my section.  Two friends stopped me just outside and said, "You have to come and see this, Zach (Brenda's son) is singing with Amy Grant.  I stopped dead in my tracks.  The voice of a modern Joni Mitchell and this amazing young man were too much.  I stood with them for a few minutes on the platform to our section, choking back more tears and fighting that visceral feeling again.

I've thought of Brenda a lot since then.  I bought her book, but I prefer her personal delivery much more.  Raising AJ has been a constant flight or fight choice.  I've always chosen fight.  Doing so numbs you a bit.  You just do.  And process your emotions later.  Sometimes they creep in, like in the heat of the moment, but the flight kicks in and the emotions are tucked away again. Listening to Brenda's story forced me into a place I don't go.  Really, I don't.  What better place to dig in than in the middle of thousands of women.  Fantastic. Honestly, I didn't care, but now that I think about it, its humorous.

Sometimes I find it hard to relate to other mothers.  Ok, a lot of times.  Gone is the jealousy, bitterness, and anger toward them for their normal-or whatever I assumed their/normal in general to be.  Here was this complete stranger, hundreds of feet away from me and she's got a suction cup on my heart.  I kept nodding and bawling, nodding and bawling.  She got it.  She got me.  She got the struggle.  She got the triumph.  She got the joy.  She got the humbleness. She.got.it.all.

Today, I was sitting in the neurologist's office with AJ as the nurse was asking me the questions she asks me each time were there.  I stopped dead in my tracks with her last question.  Any other specialists?  I had no answer.  I ran through my mental Rolodex of "AJ Providers" and nothing came up.  I said, "No.  Just you."

One.

Suddenly, having a pediatrician and just the neurologist added to the mix made me feel like every other mom on the planet.  I felt liberated and ecstatic for my little boy.  Oh wait, there is another!  The dentist.  Oh wait! He's normal too!!! We are down to one.  One extra.  And you know what?  One extra is just like that well-baby check visit.  I didn't mind.

I hope one day to meet Brenda.  In fact, I imagine us having lunch, reading our memoirs together, and crying together.  Sappy I know.  But not everyone has the ability to suction cup a heart.  At least not mine.

Special Needs Family Support Group

A few months ago I had ants in my pants about the fact that there aren't any special needs support groups in our area.  After speaking to a few different contacts in the special needs world I learned that most groups fizzled out a few years ago.  Lovely.  I was done searching and moved on to "Well, I start one then.  So there!"

So, I contacted a friend at church and asked if we could start a group there.  This is one of those moments where the stars aligned just perfectly.  She told me another church member and her husband were just organizing and planning such a group.

We've been meeting for a few months now and its been absolutely wonderful.  We've met some awesome people and formed some great friendships.  It is the most amazing feeling when I say a phrase or acronym and do not have to explain it.  To have another parent understand how a special needs bad day is different than just a bad day.  To vent and have someone actually get it. We laugh, we cry, we support one another.  We share resources.  We opened new doors.

Did I mention how great this is?

Jer and I learned quickly that we're sort of veterans in the special needs world.  While AJ is still young, we've been around the block and then some.  I've said it before, but a little tiny piece of my heart heals each time I am able to use the knowledge we've gained from our experiences with AJ to help someone else.

Hooray!

Family Match Game

One of the first theme for AJ's preschool class was Families.  I picked up this at Walmart one day (because Daddy likes Curious George and it was cheap):

And ended up making our very own Family Match Game!

I made a simple two column/three row table in Microsoft Word.  I cropped as needed, then copied and pasted family photos into each space, sizing each to 2.5x 2.5 inches.  Easy Peasy. 

I printed each sheet twice...

Then cut them out...

 Then matched everyone up to double check I had everyone present...

Then  laminated them and cut them out.  I place them face down, with the white side of the paper facing up, and AJ has to match his family and friends.  We are working on a set of 4 right now (which means 2 people), but I made this with the intent to make it more challenging as we go along.  I plan to add our pets and his school staff to this game too.

FUN!

I Think About You

Disclaimer: This post is either going to make me seem extremely lame or thoughtful.  Your pick.

I just sent an email off to another blog mamacita and had a brainstorm mid-keystroke.  Certain things remind me of certain people.  I'm sure you've noticed in this your own life.  If you are already thinking this post is lame, then please, just please, pretend you've noticed this in your own life. 

Yesterday I posted about my Gram-how I think of her when I see or do X, Y, or Z.

Well, I think about my fellow blog mamacitas a lot too.  Even though we know each other (with the exception of Melanie) exclusively through cyberspace...I still know a lot about them.

When I see Ohio Buckeye sports apparel or ring stackers, I think of Jenny.


When I hear DMB (Dave Matthews Band) and watch DC Cupcakes, I think of Tina.


When I see a National Geographic mag or anything to do with Texas, I think of Tammy.


When I visit my in-laws in Iowa or see a bandana on a kiddo, I think of Shanon.


When I'm at the car wash, or see something the color purple, I think of Ellen.


When I hear spanish lyrics or play at AJ's water table, I think of Jennifer.


When I watch SYTYCD or make experience books for AJ, I think of Celeste.


When I see really, really, yummy chocolate or see mini-vans parked in handicapped parking spaces, I think of Jess.


When I see a Starbucks or any type of stuffed bunny, I think of Melanie.

We all read whats going on it one another's lives.  We read, comment, cry, laugh, and cheer each other on.  With all the negativity you can find in this great landscape called the Internet...I've sure found some positives.