It aint easy being a kid

The last few weeks since spring break have finished have been tough for my oldest son.  He is starting his transition into his home room more often than before.  This is preparation for middle school which is coming up next year.  He came home last night with a bad entry in his back and forth folder (daily teacher log).  Nothing of what the teacher wrote was bad.  I can understand why she was upset.  It's nearly the end of the year and she has a new student, essentially, who keeps blurting out random statements in order to get his classmates to start laughing.  Stuff that you would expect during the beginning of the year when you have time to let the student know what your expectations are. 

My wife and I spoke to my son about his behavior.  We tried to emphasize the idea that if he cannot make this transition into his home room he may not be ready for the middle school.  I hate telling him that but it's do or die time.  He will not have summer school this year cause the district cannot afford to send every special needs child.  I feel like such a shumk.  I don't feel like I am being a great dad to my son.  I feel like this overbearing boss man.  I don't want that way but my son really losses focus and needs to be brought back to task at hand.  I wish I could figure out a way to get through to him.  But that seems to be the real issue with being the parent of an autistic child.  Your always wishing your could get through the autism to your child who's just under the surface.  I am prayer that my wife and I can find ways to have fun with my oldest not just be his boss.

My wife is calling me to her side so that is all I have to say for now.  Please comment, subscribe, and let me know if you also struggle getting through to your kids.  What works for you?

Derby Hat Racing

So here we are again the end of the weekend and still I cannot come up with a great topic for my blog series.  I know that I promised the next few posts would be a series but it isn't coming together in my head.  I will get to it, promise.

In the meantime, school officially end for my kids on Friday.  They were so ready to be done with school.  I am not sure I am ready, though.  When your a parent you come to rely on school as a daily diversion for your kids.  We build our lives around school for nine months of the year.  Then three of those months school districts throw a monkey wrench at you or in my case four monkey wrenches.  In the end, kids look forward to it parents mostly dread the summer vacation. 

Try and imagine how my oldest son feels about this change.  Remember, my oldest boy is highly functioning autistic.  He has had a great year at school.  He listened to his teachers, learned a lot of new skills, and gets a lot of support from the school staff.  For the vast majority of children, the idea of not having to listen to teachers or do homework is great.  My son doesn't share this feeling with his peers.  I don't think I could explain to anyone who has not had some kind of experience with an autistic child.  Don't misunderstand me.  I know many other people have there own problems during the summer.  The best way to describe it to anyone is to say that my son's been furloughed from his job without warning.  Imagine how you would feel if your boss told you tomorrow that your going to have to leave for three months without pay.  Your not being fired.  You get to come back to your job.  But for the next three months your on your own.  Three months is barely enough time to get used to not having a job let alone find something else to do. 

People might ask me.  Doesn't your son know schools ending.  Yes, he's known about the end of school coming up.  My oldest boy doesn't fully comprehend it till it happens.  The very last day of school he was a train wreck.  Yelling and screaming were just the start of his bad day. 

I see all this and experienced with it before.  I still struggle having to remind myself that my son has a legitimate reason for freaking out.  It takes a lot to keep my cool and give my son the slack he needs to make as smooth a transition as possible.  Lucky, the school district does give us support.  They started enrolling my son in summer school not as a punishment for poor performance but to help keep him from losing all the skills he's gained. 

I am looking forward to the next three months hoping like always that this will be a great summer.  It's all about perspective.  My son once asked me, "What's a Derby?"  I told him it was a race.  He then replied, "Isn't it also a hat?"  I instantly pictured jockeys riding their horses in the funny little black hats.  Yes, I told my son it's a hat as well.  Perspective, it's all about how you see it.  I just need to see it as a great summer.

My wife is calling me to her side so that's about all I have to say about that.  Please comment and subscribe.  If you think you have an idea for my blog series please also leave a comment about it.  Thanks.

Speeding Ticket- Playing the Game of Life

Tonight was family game night at my castle on Caley.  We played the Game of Life.  A classic game that I always remember because I was more interested in the plastic landscape than the game.  As we played the game, I found the random distribution of careers and salaries very ironic.  My oldest son was the lowest paid at $20,000.00.  His career pick was Police Officer.  My youngest son got to be a teacher with a $90,000.00 salary.  I am not sure what school district he worked for but I am assured it was not any public school here in Colorado. 

I don't know why we get dealt the hand we get.  God knows why.  He seems to think that what he deals us will make us stronger or grow us in some way.  I really hope that he's right.  I am thinking about two particular cards that God dealt me, my son's.  I find the mixture of there personalities and physical attributes strange at times.  Take my youngest boy.  He has had a high pain tolerance since birth.  He burnt his hand when he was very young on a night light.  We didn't know he'd done it until the church infant worker pointed out he had a blister on his hand.  The kid had burnt his hand not felt the pain then crawled around on the blister without one tear.  My youngest boy is short, stocky and great at just about any sport he tries.  All these physical attributes add up to a real boys boy.  That's what I thought.  My biggest difficulty with my youngest son is he emotional sensitivity.  He breaks down crying and weeping at the smallest insult.  His sisters seem to get a kick out of reducing him to tears everyday it seems

I have to stop myself from hardening him though.  I could do it.  Too many fathers have been in my place before.  They saw softness in their son's and couldn't reconcile that with the physical prowess they also saw.  So, they hardened the boy through brutalities or insults or the withholding tenderness.  I am not blaming anyone.  I hate weakness in myself.  I'll admit that.  But I get to make that decision.  I get to suffer my choice.  If I impose that viewpoint on my young son will I not be crushing him like flower beneath my boot? 

My second card is oldest son. If you don't follow my blog he is autistic.  That is one of the greatest blows I have ever taken.  I will freely admit that I spent years denying the facts of his autism.  I was not the best dad at those times.  I could even say that I was an emotional abuser.  I couldn't understand why more punishment was not straightening out my son.  Let me try and explain how I felt.

I was talking to a father at my son's school one day a year ago.  We had daughters in the same kindergarten.  We were talking about this and that when the topic of the special ed class came up.  My oldest son had just been admitted into that class that year.  I didn't share that fact with the gentleman I was talking too.  It didn't seem important.  We were talking about volunteering in classrooms.  My companion was telling me how he'd been asked to help out in the special ed room.  He stated he didn't like it much and asked the school not to be assigned it again.  He told me, "I don't know why those kids get such special treatment.  I could have those kids all straightened out in a few minutes if they'd just let me alone with them for a few minutes."

I know that some of you are horrified by that statement, but it's the reality that so many of us have to overcome.  I had to overcome it.  My son is autistic and nothing will change that.  I accept that he will take more time, more energy, and more love than anyone else can give him.  I have all those things.  That's what God thinks.  Some days God is right, and some days I think that God was wrong.  But in the end it's not about the middle of the game that counts it's the end.  Family game night showed me why.

My oldest, the under paid cop, ended up winning the game with the most money.  Not because he made money at his career, but because he collected the most "Life tiles."  A tile is a way of marking personal achievements.  Another way of saying it is he won because the way he lived "Life" not because he worked the hardest.  I want to win the game of life by the way I live it not because I worked the hardest.

My wife is calling me to her side so that's about all I have to say for now.  Please subscribe and comment if you have something to tell me.

Bold New Discovery

I am often amazed at how often my past reaches into my present.  When I was a child growing into a teenager.  I remember becoming obsessed with bow hunting one summer.  My dad didn't hunt at all.  Not even one time to the best of my knowledge.  I didn't know anyone who actually bow hunted.  I think that I saw a magazine in the grocery store one day and was hooked.  The obsession lasted about a year before I turned to other things.  I have not really thought about it since then.

So when my oldest son told me that for his "Daddy Date" he wanted to go to an archery range, I was not sure I was entirely comfortable with the idea.  I remember how to shoot a bow.   I learned to shoot at summer camp like so many others.  But the idea of standing into front of experienced archers with my ten year old son looking like a "weekend wannabe" didn't appeal to me.  I didn't have much choice though.  My oldest son doesn't express interest in much more than Legos and computer games. 

Based on the war stories of some other dads with autistic boys, I knew that letting him lose himself in the computer game world would not end nicely.  Imagine the worst junky you ever saw on television then multiple it by how ever old the kid is, not something I wanted to go through. 

My oldest son in the short one in the middle.

So around noon on Saturday, my son and I drove over to the only archery range/store in the neighborhood.  As we walked in I was thankful to see that there were only two other guys shooting at the range.  I could live with that much scrutiny.  I walked up the many counter.  An older woman with the bandaged finger told me immediately that my son would have to take a safety class (which began in an hour) before being allowed on the range. 

I was somewhat relieved to find out that my son would require a safety class.  I wasn't sure if he would like archery at all (he only just learned about it at his own summer camp) so if he made it through the class then he really wanted to be there.  I signed him up for the class.  We had a quick bag meal sitting in the parking lot while we waited.  At the appointed time, we walked back in and same woman with the bandaged finger took my son to fit him with an arm guard and finger tab.  She seemed to take to my son.  He was the youngest in the class.  I always worry that my son's autism will get in the way, but the woman with the bandaged finger patiently listened to him explain his summer camp experience and everything he knew about archery.

The final test- Pop two balloons.

Once the class got going, I started to worry that my son would not be able to pass.  They started out very close to the targets.  My son's arrows would bounce back at him ever so often.  Meaning he was not drawing back correctly.  But when the class moved back on the range everything worked out.  My son hit the target about eighty to ninety percent of the time.  After everything was over my son qualified for ten yards on the range.  He was ecstatic and has been showing off his graduation card to anyone who will listen to him. 

I hope that my son has found an activity that he can really excel at.  My hearts desire is to find particular thing for each one of my children.  That's about all I have to say about that, I hope each one of you have found your favorite activity.  Leave a comment about how your found that one thing that gets you through the day.

Broken Trees

I have always been a believer in God speaking through all kinds of events especially when your in need of it.  The problem is being open to God’s voice when he’s speaking to you.  This morning I wasn’t looking for God to speak his words of encouragement to me.  In my last post, I spoke to you about the rage that I have been dealing with.  Part of the has to do with being a parent to a child with a disability.  My oldest son is autistic specifically diagnosed with Aspergers Syndrome.  He can be a handful even at the best of times.  When you throw in three other children life becomes overwhelming very quickly.  I am not sure why God gave me this particular mix of kids.  Until this morning, I would have told you that it was my burden to bare.  

What I heard this morning was that I was given my kids so that I can see the greatness of God.  I get to experience it first hand.  And sometimes I am going to say, “I’m out. I’m done.”  Even in those times Gods still teaching me something through me kids especially my oldest son.  He has a love for the smallest and least of the world.  Why is it that those we call “broken” can give to those poorer themselves without a thought?  We who are “whole” have to be dragged kicking and screaming to spare a few cents for someone.  I cannot say that I know the answer.  What I know is that I’m not being “punished” or “burdened” by my son.  God gave him to me as his greatest blessing.  This is my talent.  I could bury it in the sand hoping to just get by without losing him.  Or I could invest in him.  I can see just how far he and I can go before the end.  I once thought that I was destined to be pastor.  I always thought that pastoring is how I would serve God’s kingdom.  I never thought that my service would be to my family.  I am finding that God gave me more than anyone could ever ask for in my family.  Mine is a flock bigger than any mega-church or temple.  I am truly ashamed to think of the ways that I have wasted my gift at times.  

I wasn’t sure how God was going to get me back on track after the rage of these past weeks.  I have fallen down before and crawled back before.  God knew what I needed this morning was to hear that he gave me great blessings and raising them will not be easy.  But in the end I will hopefully get to see them in their transformed bodies whole and glorious.  I know that’s what I heard.  I know that I am not alone either as evidenced by the hug my wife and I received from my relatives.  God was in on that hug, too.    

That’s all I have to say for this week.  Are you living with “broken” blessing?  How’s it going?  Are you ready to give up?  Leave me a comment with your thoughts.