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Autumn in Utah, typically lasts about three days. That is pretty much the same scene for Spring as well.

Today we had our first dusting of snow. Just a little sprinkle on the mountain peaks and a cooling rain in the lower valley’s. We had a spout of sleet late in the afternoon. Yesterday our high was 88 and today it was 44. How many states can boast that kind of climatic change in 24 hours.

The winds sweep in from the south and in it’s blustery wake cool air is left to swirl around in little misty swirls, much like steam rising from a cup of hot chocolate.

I love it. I love the change. I like to hear and see the leaves rattling in the trees. The motion of the wind and the power it has to bend the trunks and branches this way and that.

The bright colors in disarray. Bright yellows, deep orange and vivid reds. The stark pear green leaves mixed in with the paler ivy and fir. Cornucopia of color waving back and forth, almost as if they are calling out a hello.

The mountains look like dusted gum drops, with a light glittery sugar coating at the peaks that will sparkle and glisten until the sun returns and melts that away.

I love this season of change. It’s amazing to me. Indescribable really.

What I find the most intresting is the changes it brings with it. During the rain, the school halls are quieter. I think it brings people together. Blankets and hot chocolate. Warm baths, good books. Pumpkins on porches and corn stocks flanking doors and porches.

When I lived on the eastern seaboard, I was taken aback by the incredible changes that came with the seasons. They were longer and drawn out. The leaves actually FALL in Connecticut. Here they seem to blow somewhere and boom our lawns and roads are covered for long months in snow and ice.

For me it seems symbolic. A testament of the atonement. The literal cleansing of the world we live in. The trees shaking off their sins. Then comes the challenging long cold winter of repentance. We are awarded then with the promise of renewal, rebirth. Forgiveness.

I go about life, spouting sarcastic words and using humor to mask my fears. I often rant and rave, and push my way through life. Lately I have been explosive and angry and mad. Every so often… I am given the opportunity to look outside of my world and notice the changes going on around me. I am then stilled by that small voice, and reminded that I am not forgotten, that I am not alone, that I am loved.

Staring out my window, watching the trees waving to me in the breeze, the striking foliage catching my eye, and there is my reminder.

I am so grateful for that.

Every season hath its pleasures;
Spring may boast her flowery prime,
Yet the vineyard’s ruby treasures
Brighten Autumn’s sob’rer time.
- Thomas Moore

This is a picture of Ethan on the first day of school. He’s quite the handsome man, in his shorts and new t-shirt, all geared up in his chair and waiting for the bus. He has a great new mop chop (haircut) and he’s looking pretty spiffy.

Ethan has done great in school so far this year. I am elated with his progress and with the efforts from his team and all the work that goes in to helping him be successful.

At the Parents of children who are Deaf and Blind’s Annual Conference this year, we were lucky to receive a book as part of the tokens given to each set of parents. It is called, “In Jesse’s Shoes”, and it is a beautifully illustrated children’s book that is written by a sister of a child with a different ability.

I was touched by the beautiful message this sends to kids about bullying, about children that are different and how if we could really “walk” in other people’s shoes, our eyes would be opened in a way, that I don’t think we can pretend to understand.

I believe it is in our nature, to be empathetic and sympathetic. I think we work really hard to be generous and kind. I truly believe that most people strive, to do their best. This story is innocently written about a walk that a sister literally took, wearing her brother’s shoes.

After reading the book, we decided that a great place for this one to reside would be in our son’s elementary school library. So we donated it, with the hopes that when children come across this story, it might help with the conversation that all parents should have with their children (often) about others that are different.

I was incredibly touched this last week, when I went to volunteer in Ethan’s classroom, that our school Librarian had selected this book as the weekly reader. Meaning, that each class would get it read to them during library time. From Kindergarten to Fifth grade. It did my heart a good turn to see the efforts that the staff has put forth to help everyone included.

Ethan isn’t a student who will ever know, teasing. He won’t hear taunts and jabs, or be aware of other folks staring at him or whispering about him. We’re lucky in that regard, because Ethan’s spirit is protected from the knowledge of such things.

Other’s are not so lucky. I am so proud of the changes taking place across the world. I am excited to see awareness posters and disability billboards outreaching to others to promote acceptance and community spirit towards those individuals who are so different from us. I love it.

I think one of the most amazing things about us as humans, is the power we have to change our nature. We can arm ourselves with information, knowledge, understanding and awareness to help change our innate response to things we are uncertain about. What a gift our Heavenly Father has given us. What incredible opportunities we have to allow ourselves to grow past the hesitancy and reluctance that we might feel, when in a position of meeting some one who is disabled, or differently abled.

As a parent, this hope is manna. Sustenance.

Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved. Helen Keller

I have always been nocturnal. I am sure I was born that way. Early mornings have been a life time struggle for me and as time wears on it just gets worse and worse.

These days I am often greeted with nausea like you can’t imagine and painful cramps in my stomach. After I work through those, I just feel incredibly weak and tired.

No, I am not pregnant. Just sick. Someday, I’ll tell ya about it.

Getting Ethan ready and on the bus on time along with the typical morning chaos is about more than I can cope with. He takes so long to wake up and requires a bath and getting dressed, strapping in him in his wheel chair, and getting him out the door. It seems easy, but it is not.

He is getting bigger and heavier and taller and harder to manage. His fingernails grow at a fierce rate and I swear no mater what I do, I can’t keep them trimmed. Bathing is tough too. I realize I am complaining, again. Just ignore that part of my whiney post. (The Bozark suggested to me earlier today to call the Waaaaambulence…)

We have talked and talked, the Bozark and I about doing something to stunt his growth and doing something medically to him to keep him from getting much bigger. It is one of the most controversial things out there. I would love to have input on what everyone thinks.

There are so many questions. What if’s and how comes. But what it most adds up too is this. Ethan is never going to be capable of making his own choices and decisions. Ethan will never be able to communicate his dreams or his desires, we don’t even know if he has the capability of having them. He is an amazing kid and has done so much more than we ever though he would. Yet… what if.

What if someday we actually learn something about the brain? What if there is some amazing piece of medical technology that comes out that can fix brain damage? What if they can replace the optic nerve, and figure out a way for a brain to get oxygen to it, where before it did not.

What if we think he can’t, but someday he can.

Then where will we be?

When does what is easiest for us, infringe on his rights? What about his personal rights?

But, what if…he is like he is now, forever. What will he look like and how will he physically feel, if he is rolling around on my floor at the age of 45, sucking on a bottle, wearing a diaper. What about his back, will it ache? Ethan already has muscle cramps that cause him to scream out in terror. What will he be like then?

As I stumble around, through the day my thoughts are consumed with all of these questions.

I sure do wish I had some answers.

I have long been trying to decipher why traditions mean so much to me. It’s been something I have really taken a look at and put forth effort to decipher. After all my rants and ramblings and staring in the mirror, I have few less answers a whole lot more questions and quite possibly a new wrinkle or two.

Either way the idea of traditions are appealing to me, and often cause a little contention with the family at my odd demands.

I have noticed that I go about life assuming that those around me know my motivations and desires even if I don’t articulate them.

Shockingly I still stand staring in the mirror at forty and wondering why people can’t read my mind which is perplexing to me and is completely unexplainable. It has occurred to me as of late that perhaps if I were more open as to “why”, these things mean so much to me, it might mean that the bidding I desire be done with a cheerier attitude, or perhaps my family quite possibly could join me on my quest and develop a similar tenacity.

Of course when we don’t know one owns motivations it is pretty darn hard to be open about them and share. Hum, quite the quandary.

This past weekend, the Bozark and I shared our 13th wedding anniversary. We spent it in Salt Lake City, partially at the deaf blind parent’s conference and the rest, just emerging ourselves in the city, taking in venues and visiting restaurants we have never been to before.

We stopped for a minute at a local grocery store and went in to get something I had forgotten to pack. As we walked in, the floor plan of the store, led us right past the floral center. In passing, a turn of a corner and I found myself surrounded by fall Mums and beautiful arrangements of sunflowers.

I stopped on a dime. Instantly I had tears in my eyes and I could not help but reach out and feel the bright spiky petals of the flowers. Every spring, my life long I have planted mums at the cemetery with my Mom. This year, come Memorial Day weekend, there I was at the cemetery all on my own, doing the same thing. Here I am, in Salt Lake City, the third weekend in September, staring at cut sunflowers and potted fall colored Mums and it was if all stood still. One feel of the petals, a closure of my eyes, and a reminder to breath.

A year has lapsed almost, since my Mom passed away. Though her real spirit and drive left a while before, that early October day, her earthy body hung around for a while longer. Those big, vibrant flowers took me back, to the warm spring days, with a hand shovel digging out the places between head stones, gently placing the plants in earth and praying that come August, they would still be in bloom.

I could smell the fertilizer, feel the roughness of the dirt on my hands, and the warm sun shining down on my back as I knelt over the graves, doing this traditional thing.

The Bozark, just kept walking and after a couple of deep gulping breaths, I followed him through the maze of the store going on about our intended tasks.

Just a blink of time.

My Mom was amazing. She made everything beautiful. Her parties were home done. The planning, took weeks. Hand made favors, gifts for everyone, a home cooked dinner that would do the white house proud. Everything matching. She drove us to complete irritation with her attention to details.

I have to wonder, what my children will think of. As they walk through a grocery store on an early autumn afternoon.

On occasion, I get to surround myself with a group of young people. This is an eclectic meeting of tweens and young teens. These folks come from all facets of life, mostly the unpolished crevices that we tend to look away from, with out much thought or even the consciousnesses that we do it.

This last weeks conversation that while I was not a contributor, was allowed to be privy too. It centered around the subject of dinner.

One boy stated that he was starving and was excited to get home, because Mom was making a chicken dish that was his favorite and she promised to save him some. The reaction from a few of the other youths was surprising to me.

It went something like this:

Does your Mom cook dinner, every night? This was said with a huge emphasis that held an element of awe or disbelief. When he went on to assure the group that yes, indeed his Mom did fix dinner every night, the group was stunned.

The crust of the conversation held statements like, “we can’t afford milk, because my mom buys 10 red bulls a day or trades our food stamps for cigarettes.” another statement was, “I don’t think we have actually ever eaten at the table, at least not that I can remember.” one of my favorites, (hope you can sense the sarcasm) was, “we don’t even have a table”

As I listened to this conversation my heart shattered for these youth in a million different pieces. The statements were innocent. Conversation, on a drive from one place to another, between peers. My eyes got teary, and instantly I felt a deep sense of loss for these kids.

I do not know, what the norm is for most families, nor would I want to predict. However, I can tell you that for me personally as a Mom dinner has been a treasured time. A gathering of my family on a daily basis where we have shared our stories of the day, including our best moment and worst. As the kids got older our talks changed a bit. Topics of philosophies, politics, world events and history. This is where we have bonded as a family, prayed together and enjoyed each others company.

As I look around this modern world I wonder about the loss of things such as dinner at the table with the family. I see these kids who my husband refers to as the “Obama generation” who don’t have a work ethic or can rely on parents to provide a meal for them. I see gang affiliations increase and crime rates rise. I see sexual perpetrators younger and younger and the loss of simple innocence’s slipping away before our very eyes my heart weeps for the conditions of our communities.

I also see beautiful developments enveloping our world. I see families using all forms of modern technologies to communicate. We ourselves have been very fortunate to be able to find lost relatives and have made re-connections through the miracles of modern technology. I have been enormously grateful for text messaging so that through out the day, I can send little notes to my kids and instantly receive affirmation back that they are well.

I am very fortunate. I get to see families that struggle -make the decision to change their lives, get help, work through their issues, and change. These are hard choices. Sometimes change is effective, and often it is not.

Nor do I think I have the right to judge others. I realize that we all do what we can. I have BEEN a mother that struggles and that has had more than my fair issues, at parenting.

If I had a magic wand and could sprinkle fairy dust all over the land every child would have a warm meal every night, surrounded by a loving Mom and Dad, a clean bed to crawl into. Boys and girls would go to scouts. The pledge of allegiance would be said every day before school. Prayer morning and night and church on Sunday. A celebration would take place allowing children to seek classes in what ever art or music or sport that interested them. Children that were challenged would stand at the bus stop with the rest of the kids and no one would make fun or laugh at them.

Though the ideal world that would be for me, will never happen. Maybe it shouldn’t. Who knows. A girl can dream though.

Up and coming is the annual Deaf Blind Parent’s Conference, for parents in Utah, who have a child with this particular diagnosis. This year the theme is SHOES; Strength and Hope through Other parents Encouragement

I have to tell you, that this gathering of parents is the one place I feel at home. Most of our children are quite similar in abilities and our stories are somewhat alike. They speak the same language as we do and walk a path that is very familiar. Our struggles and celebrations are on the same level and we “get”, the oddities that others outside of this “group”, over look or don’t even see.

There is much to be said for peer-to-peer support. That is what they are calling it, these days. The politically correct way of saying it, at least at the moment. Bringing parents together, to network, share ideas, swap stories, celebrate inchstones that we have discovered over this last year. This conference, provides us respite care for our children, an over night stay at a nice hotel, a great dinner and opportunities to get to know each other.

With the theme being S.H.O.E.S they have asked us to bring a new pair or gently used pair of shoes, to donate to a charity to help needy families. I think this is a fabulous idea.

Our keynote speaker this year, is John Bytheway, and I am betting it will be uplifting and full of encouragement. Which is something I need, and I would be willing to go out on a limb and say other parents need that as well.

Things like this are sustenance through the dark, long, hard hours. Some of the folks we will visit with, will have horror stories compared to ours. Others will be shocked with what we have to say. Either way it goes, there will be conversations that will stay with us. Next year, we will gather again. Mixing and melding and for one brief weekend, everyone there, will “get” us.

That is pretty remarkable.

Box Elder NAMI .

NAMI stands for National Alliance for Mental Illness. This is a nationwide, grass roots, not-for-profit organization that locally provides education for families and supports for individuals with mental illnesses.

The Box Elder affiliate, through fund-raising and volunteer efforts provides our community with classes, education meetings and support groups.

We contribute to a Christmas program that assists disabled adult consumers who have no other opportunities to have a Christmas.

We also provide the community with a Thanksgiving dinner, near the holiday to add cheer and support for the families in our community that are struggling.

We help with school supplies for families who have children with mental health diagnosis, that struggle continuously to meet the demands that families have while they are experiencing crisis.

We have a person that provides families links to community bases resources that are out of the realm of what we can provide. Along with peer to peer support that is so badly needed.

These are just a few of our efforts. Our mission is: To ensure the dignity and improve the lives of those who live with mental illness and their families through support, education and advocacy.

My mission to to complete a fundraising walk, that is being held on September 26, 2009 at the Franklin Covey Field. I will be there, with my team, we are called the PsychClones. Mostly volunteers and consumers alike, walking side by side, to A) earn some money for our programs, and B) to promote good health, and wellness and C) create an understanding amongst the populations that mental health is treatable, there are answers, cures and hope.

To support my “Cause” click on the link here. If you are able, join our team and come walk with us. There will be a great lunch and fun for everyone! I promise!

Our county has two main harvest celebrations. The one held first in the season is the Box Elder County Fair and Rodeo. This is held in Tremonton, and is a true down home affair. This hosts a variety of fair like activities. From arts and crafts that are entered by every age in every division to lamb and bucket calf showings. It’s an event for the entire family. They have food booths and animal shows, a carnival, rodeo, all that jazz. This year, a family that lives down the road from us, played in a band. I wasn’t there, but I heard rants and raves about it. We also had a band that did a darn good impersonation of the Beatles. The reviews brought raves. It’s so funny to see all of the younger kids discovering and entirely new era of music, and that brought back a sense of deja-vu.

The other main harvest celebration is held in Brigham City, the second week of September. Peach Days is a huge festival. A wonderful childrens parade kicks of the main events. There is a Peach Queen contest, a writing contest, which Melissa C, is a winner of this year. A carnival, band performances, and of course AMAZING peach cobbler for sale, in town square, with hundreds of other booths. There will be a rock climbing wall, and car show. A three on three basketball tournament, and art displays. The window displays are famous and all of the stores put up historical photographs and amazing cornucopia of beautiful talents put arranged for viewing.

NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO, you MUST stop by the Dutch Oven Peach Cobbler Booth, and get a treat! It is a fund raising expedition for NAMI.

Here is a list of the 2009 Events taking place at Peach Days this year!

Wednesday September 9th
6:30 p.m. Jr. Peach Queen Pageant – BE Middle School

Thursday September 10th
7:00 p.m. Miss Brigham City Pageant – Peery’s Egyptian Theatre in Ogden

Friday September 11th
10:00 a.m. – 10:00 p.m. SCUBA Burgers, Arts/Crafts/Food Vendors – Main Street & Community Center
10:00 a.m. – 6:00 p.m Book Sale – BC Library
11:00 a.m. – 6:00 p.m. Art and Photography Show – BC Museum
6:00 p.m. Junior Parade – Main Street (2nd South to 3rd North)
City of fun Carnival Opens – Forest Street
6:00 p.m. – 11:00 p.m. Softball Tournament – Pioneer Park
6:30 – 8:30 p.m. Free Children’s Activities – Main Street
7:00 – 9:00 p.m. Entertainment – Main Street Stage
9:00 – 11:00 p.m. Teen Dance – Main Street Stage

Saturday September 12th
All Day SCUBA Burgers, Activities, & Raffles – Main Street
Art/Crafts/Food Vendors – Main St./Comm. Center
Carnival and More Activities – Forest Street
6:00a.m. – 10:00a.m. Fire Department Breakfast – Fire Station on Forest St.
8:00a.m. – 10:00p.m. Softball Tournament – Pioneer Park
9:00 a.m. 10K – 6.2 Mile Road Race Starts – Brigham City Tabernacle
10:00 a.m. Peach Days Parade – Main St
10:00 a.m. Bonnevills Rod & Custom Car Club Show – Watkins & Pioneer Park
12:00 – 6:00 p.m. Book Sale – Brigham Library
12:00 – 4:00 p.m. Peach Days Flower Show – Community Center
1:00 – 7:00 p.m. Entertainment – Main Street Stage
1:00 p.m. Motorcycle Show – 100 South Main Street
2:00 p.m. Art & Photography Contest Awards – Museum
3:00 p.m. “Ballad of Porcupine Joe” Melodrama – Fine Arts Center
4:00 p.m. Writing Contest Awards – Museum
5:00 p.m. “Ballad of Porcupine Joe” Melodrama – Fine Arts Center
7:00 p.m. “Ballad of Porcupine Joe” Melodrama – Fine Arts Center
7:30 p.m. Jon Schmidt Concert – Main St. Stage
9:00 p.m. Kerry Sharp Hypnotist Show – Main St. Stage

Sounds like an ice cream flavor doesn’t it? Well, it isn’t. They are our new pets. We recently adopted two beautiful big bunnies.

Oreo is mostly white with some black spots. He is totally adorable and when he first came here, he was pretty shy. Now, I go out to greet him, with a carrot or two, some sugar snap peas and he ventures out to greet me, with vigor. He busts his way around in his pen and makes it known that he is ready for his treat.

Chip, she is mostly white with brown spots. She has always been convivial and sweet. Her appetite can’t keep up with her boyfriends though. She is amazingly calm and has a very good temperament. She loves her treats as well, but is a bit more calm with her eating manners.

Unfortunately Chip is having some issues with mites in her ears. They have caused some infection and even the fur at the top of her neck between her ears is looking sad and painful. Today she received a treatment to help alleviate her painful issues and we are hoping she will be feeling a bit more up to par, in a day or two.

Chip and Oreo came from Veronica’s home. She is a fellow water polo gal that we are friends with. She recently was able to get a puppy, but didn’t have the room for all three pets, so we inherited them from her.

I love our bunnies. They are a welcome addition. It is so funny to me what they eat, and how they hop around in their big cages. They love flower petals, lettuce greens, celery, carrots and I even give them special biting bricks to chew on. They have a steady diet of alfalfa pellets, but the fresh vegetables keep them happy. Another weird thing that I have noticed is they drink a lot of water. We fill their 10 ounce bottles of water up daily. They are never quite empty but always need filling after a long day.

Our other animals, have become accustomed do them and are no longer quite so curious about them. In fact, I have spotted several times our kittens laying in the sun, atop their pens.

I should state that their pens came with them. They are very large and well built. Veronica’s dad, Todd designed and put them, and they are super.

As the days pass, it is funny the things that bring us joy. Though we have always have pets of some kind, these rabbits are fun to have around. I wonder if they enjoy watching our coming and goings, just as we love to view theirs.

Ethan has been doing great. We have had many up and downs over the summer but mostly up.

In August he started whacking himself with his fist and making horrible bruises on his cheek and ear. I took him to see our every faithful Pediatrician, and he was visibly concerned.

Several days and phone calls later we made the decision to put Ethan on another atypical front line anti-psychotic. Abilify. It was added to his current medications and though it was slow to show us any results, he is now back to his happy self and the constant hitting and scratching has subsided.

Over the summer, Ethan attended pre-school and did pretty well. We were lucky enough to have the School for the Deaf and Blind, hire another deafblind intervener. Her name is Gina, and she is a gem. We have been so lucky to have interveners that we have always felt comfortable with and loved. For those of you who are not familiar with the term, it is in reference to a personal aid who is trained in duel sensory diagnoses and whom receives on-going training to help interpret for Ethan.

August was a long month for us. Ethan was finished with school and he seemed bored and frustrated. However, the mark of the school year came with nervousness and new horizons to venture forward towards.

We had Ethan’s IEP meeting and I was very glad to meet his new teacher for the year. So impressed was I, with the school, teacher and principle. They were ready and eager and very polite regarding Ethan.

I took Ethan to the school to meet his new crew. He was horrible and cried and fussed the entire time we were there. It was awful. I left the school feeling very depressed and frustrated. What was I doing with my child?

Soon the summer days were coming to an end and the beginning of the school year was quickly approaching. I attended his back to school meeting, with Melissa C, and I am so glad that she went with me. We had a nice chat on the way there, and she distracted me from my self-pity.

When we got there, in the gym the PTA had lengths of tables set up for various things. I skipped the lunch line, as well.. ya know, Ethan doesn’t eat. Grabbed a t-shirt for him to wear on spirit day and ordered this years design as well. For-went the fluoride swish option, and signed up to be a room mom. After, paying my PTA dues, and a total of 50 dollars. We were done.

The Bozark and I had many many chats about Ethan starting school. This is all day. We decided to delve into it with a positive attitude. We started to try to adjust his sleep schedule and come Monday morning, August 31, the big yellow short bus pulled up at our house at a crisp 7:45.

I went to work, and watched the clock. 10, 11, 12, 1 and kept my eye glued to the time. 2, 3 and still no phone call. I rushed home and wa la. He was happy and jovial as the bus door opened. He was happy as a clam. I could NOT believe it! Wow. As I wheeled him into the house, I have to tell you teared up. I called the Bozark and read to him what Ethan’s teacher had written in his bring home book.

” Ethan had a great day. he was content and pretty patient with all of the adjustments and trying to figure out a schedule. He’s darling. Thanks for sharing him with us. He did fall asleep about 1:00. Does he take a nap regularly? At a certain time?”

ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Sweet relief swept through me. Hope is such a precious commodity.

We are over a week into school now, and not one phone call. Every report from his class, indicates that he is doing well. He is sitting up in his wheelchair for more than an hour at a time. He is participating in many ways and loves music class.

They have even said that I can come and volunteer in his class room. Which was not a possibility in his pre-school.

It is incredible the change in him. His muscles are sore and tight, and he is totally exhausted by the time he gets home, but he is handling it very well. His bus driver and the aid on the bus are new this year, and they have requested special training so that they can better be prepared for having him on their bus. They are very nice and friendly and I can tell they care about Eth.

It’s amazing to me, how little tiny things added to another little tiny thing, and another tiny thing, meld together to be huge.

I no longer have these huge fears that his capabilities one day are going to disappear and that we will be back to square one. His improvements are way beyond that.