When Everything is Okay

It's October. Sensory Awareness Month. So, I feel like I should write. Lately, though, my words have been few. Some days I feel as if I've lost the ability to string my words together. Everything seems so chaotic, separate and disconnected. My words have been a reflection of that. 
I wonder if that's what it's like for O when his body can't interpret the sensory information in his environment. Chaotic. Separate. Disconnected. 
Yesterday, I took O to the dentist. We waited. He had his appointment and then we waited some more. It was in the waiting that he was most anxious. In that idle time. In the waiting room full of children and their parents. As each name was called, he waited to hear his own. When would he be chosen? When would we get to leave?

There are many days when I forget. Forget how it used to be. When we first began our journey into understanding O's difficulties with sensory processing.
Things are different now. Yet, so much is the same. 
I still consider his feelings, opinions and potential reactions before anyone else's. I still evaluate each day - each circumstance - based on how I think he will respond. But, I also pray more. For him and with him. Yesterday, I talked to him about the power of Jesus and how it was within us, helping us to be brave. It's a lesson I'm still learning, but it seemed right for him, too. 
Not long ago I actually forgot to bring O's food when we went to my sister's house for dinner. What?! Maybe it had been a crazy day. Or, maybe it had been such a "normal" day that his dietary restrictions slipped my mind. Even though it had my husband scrambling to the nearest McDonald's right before meal time, it seemed significant that I forgot. It felt normal. That never would have happened before!
There are still areas of pain, though. The look of uncertainty before putting on a new piece of clothing or lining up for school. Resistance to trying new foods - or even enjoying old favorites. Creating rules for his toys, time and relationships that cannot be broken. Separation. Chaos. Disconnection.
But, even in the midst of those, God has continued to provide us with glimpses into the fullness of joy. Playing catch in the backyard. Riding a bike. Flying paper airplanes with good friends. Telling jokes at the dinner table. Laughing at his favorite books. 
In the weeks since school started, there have been many days that I've stood with O on the playground, waiting for the bell to ring. 
He says, "I'm scared." 
And, I say, "It's okay to be scared. You're going to be okay." 
One day, I realized something. Those are O's initials - O.K. So, I started telling him, "You're going to be O.K. Because you already are O.K." It made him smile. The more I said it, the bigger he smiled. Of course, as many things go with O, it has now become our routine - most mornings that I drop him off, I have to remind him that he is O.K. I don't mind this routine...because it's a good reminder for me too.
Maybe that's what I needed to say today. To O, to you and to me. That everything is O.K. Even though it doesn't always feel that way.

Be Aware

I have shed many tears during the past six years. For my son. 

At first, it was out of frustration. I just couldn't figure out what to do, how to care for him and make him comfortable. Then, there were tears of fear and questioning - Would he ever speak? How would his life be different? Next came, tears of joy, at his first words and other accomplishments. So many emotions for me, the mother of a child with Sensory Processing Disorder.

Most recently, I stood in my backyard one evening, crying into my husband's shoulder. Broken-hearted, hurting for my son. He had had his third toileting accident at school, because he was afraid to use the restroom. Despite all our efforts, he wouldn't do it. As a result, he pushed his body to it's limits, holding it until he couldn't anymore. 

That night, I cried, "It's not fair!" Not fair that he has to deal with fear and anxiety on a daily basis. Not fair that his body gets confused and reacts to normal stimuli atypically, leaving him uncomfortable and agitated.

While the toileting situation has had me the most distraught lately, what brings me to tears most days is the way O thinks. How his mind analyzes everything to the point of anxiety. It tears my heart apart when I realize all the things that go through his mind, which cause him stress and worry. 

Some of those things are:

- Whether or not to tell me about an injury, anticipating that the "medicine" might hurt more or that I might offer him a bandaid -

- Wondering if the new pjs I just bought him for "pajama day" will feel itchy -

- Starting each day thinking about what may be different or out of the ordinary -

- Hoping he doesn't make a mistake on his writing assignment -

- Focusing on how many minutes are left until the bell rings, because he doesn't want to be late for school -

- Needing to inspect his food before he eats it, if he eats it -

But, there is also good news. There is a God who answers prayers. A God who loves O more than I ever could and as a result is responding to the pleas of his people. To take away O's sensitivity to smell in the cafeteria. To make the bathroom less scary, so that it can become a part of his routine at school. God has been showing me that when I can't, he can. 

That's the truth I want to rest in, every day. God makes promises and fulfills them. He can!

October is Sensory Awareness Month. 

One of the purposes of this blog has always been to raise awareness of SPD. 

Will you do your part in raising awareness? 

Will you share this with one person today?

Experiencing God

I don't share God with my kids often enough.
There, I said it. 
Yes, they see me reading my Bible and praying. Yes, they know that I attend Bible study and understand the value that attending church holds in our family. Yes, I am beginning to worship more freely in hopes that they will understand worship, in all forms, is okay. However, there are many things about God that I don't share with them. 
Often, when they ask me questions about my blog, why I do something or about a specific event - like when I spoke earlier this year in Southern California - I avoid telling them, "God asked me to do that" or "The Holy Spirit prompted me to go." 
Why? Maybe it's because I'm worried that they may not understand, it may be too much for their young minds to comprehend. Maybe it's because I don't fully understand it myself and I am afraid I won't be able to answer their questions. They don't need to know everything, do they?
Yes, they do. Especially, about God.
Last week, my nine-year old asked me why I "don't have Bible study" anymore? She was referring to the two ladies I would get together with each Monday night. We began a break in late April due to crazy schedules, vacations and a need for rest. I was tempted to answer her with something simple or even avoid her question altogether. But, something wouldn't let me. Not this time.
So, I explained to her why we had taken a break and then said, "But, I will be starting another Bible study soon." 
"You mean you're starting one or doing one?" she asked.
"Starting one. At church."
"Wow. Cool."
It was the end of the conversation, but I could tell it made an impression. We had experienced a teachable God-moment. I hope it showed her that not only is it okay to do something for God, it's okay to start something new for him too.
Lately, I have been struggling with how to explain God to O. Because of his concrete thinking, a term like, "ask Jesus to live in your heart" doesn't make sense to him. This has become even more important to me as his nighttime fears have increased. I want him to know that God is with him always, will protect him and has the power to take away his fears. Yes, this is big for a six-year old, especially for a six-year old who mostly lives in a black and white world - one where if you got a gift on Christmas Eve, you would never say you got it for Christmas because that would be wrong.
After having another frustrating conversation with O about Jesus and his power within us, God reminded me of a friend, another mother who has a son similar to O. She had mentioned something at my last IF: Table gathering about how she had explained the term "born again" to her son. I sent her a message on Facebook and was so encouraged by her response. While the conversation she had with her son on this topic was helpful for future conversations I may have with O, it's what she said to me after that made more of an impact. She wrote,
"I also have decided to surrender to the fact that God made [my son] and knows the best way to connect with him. I recently realized, he's relentlessly pursuing relationship with [my son] (with all of us really) but I have no doubt that [my son] will encounter Jesus in ways that only God could orchestrate. I have just decided to trust in this."
I read this verse in Psalm this morning. It convicted me. I truly believe it was God, once again, revealing to me the importance of sharing him with others, which includes my children.

I don't want to tell my children what I know about God, I want to share the truth of God's power and mighty wonders. I want my children to see God. Not just on the pages of scripture or during a Sunday school lesson. I want them to see him in everything. Because he is there. 
I want them to experience God.

The Promise

We are in the process of building a pool. A couple of weeks ago, when our backyard was cleared of all its old foliage and the hole had been dug, I was inspired. That's when I started writing this post.

  I thought I would miss all the old trees, grass, flowers, etc. But, I didn't. As soon as the hole was dug, the vision for our future backyard began to take place. Even though there had been destruction and the backyard was a mess, there was a promise of something new. Something that was better for our family. 

My plan was to write about brokenness and how it is not always as bad as it seems. Then, I started feeling broken and I couldn't see the promise anymore. How could I encourage others when I didn't feel encouraged myself?
Over the past couple of weeks, life has been hard. Frustrating. Discouraging. O has regressed in many areas. The number of tantrums has increased and my ability to handle them has been less than ideal. So, although his "graduation" from kindergarten was quickly approaching, and the idea that we had made it through his first year of school, with fewer problems than we had expected, was lost among the increase in negative behaviors. I was having trouble celebrating all the success in the midst of what I perceived as failures.
Last Friday was particularly difficult for me. It all came to a head when O innocently asked me, "Mama, what do you do when you go to work?" As I began to share with him all the things I do for children who are very similar to him, I felt despair that I had not been able to help my own child in the same ways. It was devastating to my already fragile emotional state. 
If you read my post earlier this week, you know how beautifully my husband responded to my not-so-beautiful moment. It was a huge blessing and gave me a new perspective on all that we have accomplished this year.
That's the heart of the story, really, the story of God and people and his hands in the world. All through history, he's making soup from bones, life from death, water from rocks, love from hate.  Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines
Empty. That's my word for 2014. Some days it's easy to be empty before God, ready for him to fill me. And, other days, those days that are filled with the stuff of life - school activities, doctor appointments, temper tantrums, spring concerts, reports to write, etc. - when I am not available to God, he empties me. 
And, that's what he has done during these weeks. I have been broken and empty. Not by my own will, but by His. Much like my backyard, my life has been cleared of the old to make room for what is to come. For what God has planned.
Emptiness often leaves us with nothing but the promise of something new. Something better. The rainbow after the flood. The stone that was rolled away. The veil that was torn. They all followed emptiness. And, all were worth waiting for.

Notice Me

I love reading. It is one of my favorite hobbies. I have been contemplating lately ways to make it possible to read while I sleep or get ready for work or even while I'm driving. Any ideas?
When I was younger, I often chose reading over other activities. Instead of swimming with my sisters, I would sit by the pool and read while they swam. I took a book with me everywhere, so that in any spare moment I could continue my journey into someone else's story.
Now, as an adult, working mother of three, I have less of those spare moments. And, when I have them I often find myself taking a peek at my phone, checking emails, status updates and the latest photos on Instagram. 
It was during the season of lent this year, when I decided to take a break from social media every evening, that I noticed how much time I actually spent with my face in my phone. I didn't know what to do with myself during those hours, when I had vowed to fast from social media. I became bored. Especially in the evening hours, after my kids had gone to bed, on the nights when my husband was out of town, that I felt restless and uncomfortable. But, it was out of that feeling of uneasiness that God created something in me. An ability to notice. My house. My kids. My husband. My Bible. The book on my nightstand that I had been neglecting. 
It was during that time that I made a conscious decision, even after lent had ended, not to make social media my focus. Although I still check emails, status updates and view the lives of my cyber friends through photos, it is not my priority. My life, the people and things that are going on around me have become more important.
When life is going well, this take-notice attitude is easy. When the things to notice are bike-riding successes, family dinners, movie nights and belly laughs. However, when life is difficult and fraught with discouragement, as it has been for me the last few weeks, that's when I wish for that escape. That's when I hole up inside myself and resist letting those close to me into my pain and frustration.
However, last Friday, it finally came out. It was a generally down day for me and everything that anyone said caused me to heap more guilt and judgement upon myself. That's why, when my husband called me to tell me he had one stop to make before he was heading home, I did what no wife should ever do to their husband or loved one over the phone. I started crying. Hard, ugly tears. I told him of my failures, doubts and many of the reasons why he should no longer love me or trust me with our children.
He said few words, as by the time I had finished my rant, he had arrived at his destination. We would talk about this later. I was sure.
That night, as we were winding down, getting the kids ready for bed, he sat in his chair with his laptop. I knew he must have work to do and continued to do life around him. At times, this has frustrated me. His need to work in the evenings. But I had been trying hard lately to give him this space and time to handle his business, without resentment.
After the kids were in bed, I sat on the couch and Matt came over with his laptop. He said, "Now, I'm going to convince you why you are wrong." I immediately tensed, knowing he was playing his I'm-a-man-and-I'm-going-to-fix-it card. He was going to use logic to help me see the error of my emotions. This never works.
But, he surprised me. Instead of giving me practical solutions to my problems, he proceeded to share with me the list of 20 things he had written. Twenty positive ways in which our family, house and circumstances had changed in the past nine months because of things God had done through me. 

SOURCE

Then, he said, "And, that was only in five minutes. I'm sure there are more." I was speechless. And, of course, I cried. "Thank you," was all I could say. It didn't solve my problems, but it sure put things into perspective. That list didn't change the anxiety I have about what is to come, but it showed me something important...
Amidst all the memories, mix tapes, sideways glances and flirtatious smiles, weekend getaways and fancy dinners, it was the most romantic thing Matt has ever done for me. In our close-to 14 years of marriage and nearly 20 years of doing life together, he still notices me. It was beautiful. Better than any story I could read in a book. 
Because, it is my story.

Six

Dear O,
Today is your sixth birthday! It is also Easter. I was worried that you would not like sharing your special day, but you couldn't be more excited about it.

EASTER 2010

I can't begin to express how proud I am of you. You have accomplished so much this year and have been brave through it all. I am so happy that you have found a best friend and love seeing you enjoy kindergarten so much. Even though life is still unpredictable for you, you are learning how to handle the twists and turns.
This year, my prayer is that I can let you go just a little more. I know that I have a tendency to protect you more than I should. I worry that you will be too scared or uncomfortable and it is hard for me to see you feeling that way. But, I am learning to trust God, knowing that He is with you always, even when I can't be. And, that He loves you even more than I do.  

Even though, I know you have so much more growing to do, I can't help but look back at how much you've grown and wonder how you got to be such a big boy. Most days you take life seriously and are eager to learn as much as you can. But, you are also becoming more comfortable with being silly, which makes me smile. Unless, of course, you are talking about gas and boogers, which just makes me say, "EWWW!"

I love you, son. Happy birthday to you, my boy!
Love,  Mama

Nine

Dear E,

You are nine today. This is hard for me to believe. Time has gone so fast.

Just as you've grown taller and your hair has grown longer - you didn't have any for the longest time - your heart has also grown bigger. You have such a caring spirit and you love more and better than anyone I know. This love is evident in your prayers and in your desire to help those who are less fortunate than yourself.

This sensitivity that helps you love more also makes it easier for you to be hurt. I worry about how the big hurts in life will affect you and I pray that God will find a way to protect your heart and help you to see the good in all situations.

This year, as your mom, my goal is to slow down in my interactions with you. My hope is that this slowing will help me see you as you are, in every moment, as a special gift from God.

I pray that you will always be true to yourself, even if it isn't popular or appreciated by this world. Don't ever stop loving, praying and caring for people. This desire comes from the Holy Spirit in you. As a result, you will be an encouragement and blessing to so many.

Happy birthday, my sweet girl. I love you!

Love,
Mom

Eleven Years {A Letter to my Oldest Daughter}

Dear A,

Today you turn 11. Although it may sound cliche, it really does seem like only yesterday I spent 25 hours in labor awaiting your arrival. 

While it is a sweet memory, I don't wish to be back at that day, that time. I am so enjoying watching you grow and develop. Over the past year I have watched you begin to make the emotional and physical transition from a girl to a woman. From Barbie to One Direction. From belonging soley to your dad and I to the embarking on the journey of discovering your own identity.

You are so eager to learn. And, you seem to be soaking in every bit of knowledge life throws at you. Lately, you won't stop talking...about anything and everything. I know I am not always the best listener. And, I'm sorry for that. I pray that God will help me to stop long enough to soak up every word you have to say. Because, I never want you to stop talking to me. I am interested in it all. I am interested in you.

Happy 11th birthday, my bright and beautiful girl. I can't wait to see how God blesses you this year!
Love,
Mom

My Favorite Moments {2013}

The last day. Of 2013. I can't believe how fast this year has gone and all that has happened since it's beginning. Last year, to recap 2012, I wrote about the most and least popular blog posts. This year, instead of looking at the stats, I decided to write about what I cherished most about 2013.
First, I decided to reflect on the two words I chose for 2013 - hope and blessing. If you want to read about how I fared in living out those words this year, visit my guest post at proverbs2v6 today.
Second, I decided it was only right to share some of my favorite moments of 2013...

1.  TAKING MY OLDEST & HER FRIENDS ON A LIMO RIDE FOR HER 10TH BIRTHDAY
2.  SPENDING THREE DAYS AWAY WITH MY HUBBY FOR MY BIRTHDAY. LOVE THIS PLACE!
3.  OUR DISNEY ADVENTURES. DAY ONE, TWO & THREE
4.  MY FIRST-EVER FASHION POST
5.  OUR BEACH VACATION
6.  O'S FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL
7.  WOMEN'S RETREAT. HUME LAKE, CA

Third, in terms of blogging, my favorite, and most challenging month was February. I participated in a daily scripture challenge and ended up with a total of 27 posts that month! Here are some of my favorite verses...

VERSE 1 - STRESS // VERSE 3 - ANXIETY // VERSE 4 - WORRY 

VERSE 11 - BRINGS ME JOY // VERSE 12 - PRAYER

I am looking forward to 2014 and the surprises that await in this new year. Wishing you all a Happy New Year!

How Trains Saved My Son

I woke up Christmas Eve, rolled over, and because of what was next to my bed, began to cry. It was O's train table, and it had been in the exact same location since Thanksgiving. We had moved it into our room to accommodate our dinner guests.
I wasn't crying because it was in my room. I was crying because O hadn't asked about it or played with it in nearly a month. There was a time when this would've been unheard of, when the mere movement of one train would have caused a huge meltdown. While, this new development meant growth, maturity and progress, it also meant that my little boy didn't need his trains anymore. 
There was a time when they were his only source of enjoyment, his coping skills and his mode of communication. Now, they were simply collecting dust. I wasn't crying for today, I was crying for the days of the past, when things were so much harder. 
Since this blog is less than two years old, it wasn't around when O was born. So, unlike many other mommy's who blog, I do not have my children's birth stories here. However, today's story is of O's re-birth...and how trains were involved.
It was when his speech therapist brought out the starter train set, with Thomas and Percy, that O's love affair with trains began. He had watched episodes of Thomas and Friends on PBS, but had never been so interested in them, until he played with that train set. Then it was all about Thomas, who he first called "ba-ba" because that was all he could say.

We bought O his first train during our summer trip to Discovery Kingdom. We also visited Thomas Town there and rode on Thomas. Although O doesn't remember that trip. I do. He was so excited, to see all that was previously in his imagination come to life.
He took that first train everywhere with him. It seemed to make everything easier, as long as he had that train. 

The Christmas that he was two, Santa (aka my dad) made him a train table. And, every birthday, Christmas, and trip to Target after that, we added to the collection. The trains were his way of escaping after a hard day. They were the way we could get him to learn new sounds and words. They were everything to him.
And, while this was sometimes difficult. It was so nice to have that safety net. That thing that could always make him happy. Not everybody has that. He needed those trains...and so did we. 
Over time, O has begun to find interest in things other than trains and Thomas. He has begun playing with other toys, and the trains have been used less and less, especially since he started kindergarten. Although they have been replaced with other play things, it's more than that. They've been replaced with more topics of conversation, more typical ways of learning and ever-growing coping skills.
The train table and it's cast of characters are collecting dust. Still, I think O knows that they are there, in my room, just in case. 
I don't know when we will ever be able to pack up the trains for good. I'm sure that day will come. And, I will probably cry that day, too.

The Big Reveal {Family Photos 2013}

When I thought about having kids, what I really thought about was having babies. About diapers and late nights, first words and other milestones. I didn't think much about what it would be like to have kids in school, doing homework and being involved in extra-curricular activities. I didn't think about having teenagers or how my relationship will change with my kids once they are in college. I think about it now, though.
My kids aren't babies anymore. And, honestly, I am grateful for that. They are little people, nearly 11, 8 and 5. They have their own thoughts, feelings and interests, and make them known to me daily. They are unique to themselves, despite being raised by the same parents. And, I know they will continue to change, not just in a physical way, but in an emotional way as well.
That's one of the reasons, I wanted to capture them now, in this moment. Because so much is going to change. I don't want to freeze time or keep them from growing up, I simply want to document each moment, as it is. Our family photos, did just that...

P.S. In case you missed my posts on how to prepare for family photos, how to choose what outfits to wear, and what not to do during your photo shoot, see my previous posts here and here.
P.P.S. A huge thank-you to Kimi-G Photography for taking all of the amazing photos!
photos are my personal property and cannot be copied without my permission

Celebration Saturday

Last week. It was good. Real good.

It's funny to say write that, since it was one of my worst weeks in terms of anxiety in a long time. I struggled daily and nightly to receive peace and truly give everything in my life over to God.

However, my kids were great, phenomenal, high achievers last week. So, to celebrate the various awards, trophies, performances, special invitations and the ability to handle change with ease, we resolved to have a family celebration day on Saturday.

M and I decided we wanted to do something together, as a family. O had been asking to "go somewhere" for awhile now. After the five of us had spent the day together, all three kids giddy with excitement, I realized that it didn't matter to him where we went, but that we went together, as a family. It's something we haven't done since summer ended and school started. It felt good.

We started our day at the zoo. I love our zoo. And, so do our kids. Even though we've been there countless times, we always enjoy it. Some photo highlights from Saturday's trip to the zoo...

After the zoo, we went out to lunch. Then, came home to clean out the garage. Well, M and E did most of the cleaning, while I followed O around the block on his bike. While it doesn't sound very exciting, it truly was a family affair.

Saturday evening, M barbecued, which meant I didn't have to cook dinner - yay for me - and we had a picnic/movie night in the living room. We watched Monsters University, which the girls had already seen, but the rest of us hadn't. It was a great family movie. We laughed, a lot.

Our lives are so busy that we often don't take time to spend a whole day together, laughing together, and enjoying each other's company. It felt good.
What did you do to celebrate life this weekend?

Battles and Balance

Things had been going well for O lately. He made the transition to kindergarten beautifully and is even ending his first season of soccer. And, while there have been bumps along the way, they have been relatively small and easy to navigate.

However, I have started noticing a change in O's ability to handle those smaller bumps with as much ease as he had been. While he is still keeping it together at school, his inability to handle the stress is evident at home.

This time of year is typically difficult for him. Fall means changes in weather, clothing, and the beginning of the holiday season. All the changes are difficult. Especially when you are an individual who doesn't just like routine, but needs it.

Last week was Red Ribbon Week at my kids' school. During this week every year, the schools in our area focus on creating a fun-filled week for the kids, which teaches them the dangers of drugs and alcohol, in a creative way. This is a positive program, with a lot of value. However, for O, this week is full of things that cause change in his routine and what he has come to expect from kindergarten.

Monday was crazy hair/crazy clothes day. I had a conversation with O that morning about how silly his friends would look because of this special day. He hid under a blanket during the entire conversation, and for the first time, since the first day of school, said, I don't want to go.

When we got to school he was hesitant to go into the classroom, everyone just looked too crazy. Once he realized that the crazy hair didn't necessarily mean that things would be different in the classroom, he was okay. But, for the rest of the week, every time we drove by the school, he asked about those red ribbons on the trees and why they were still there. It's only for this week, I said, every time.

Life with O is a balancing act. We are constantly struggling to make sure we are keeping him comfortable and monitoring his anxiety, yet putting him in situations where his coping skills can be tested and stretched. Usually that means preparing him in advance for situations that may provoke anxiety.

For example, last week O's kindergarten class also took a trip to the pumpkin patch, on a school bus. I knew that the bus could potentially cause anxiety for O, for several reasons: smell, number of kids in close proximity, new experience, and I'm sure more that I don't even know about. So, his teacher and I began talking to him, about the field trip and the bus. Then, I had an idea.

I had seen a bus driver dropping off a student for afternoon kindergarten on the days I picked O up from school. So, one day I asked him if O and I could take a walk through the bus. He was more than willing. As I expected, O didn't even want to go on the bus with me, but he did it. We found things on the bus he liked, like the color of the seats and the fact that each of the rows was numbered - he loves numbers!

The day of the field trip arrived and I didn't notice any anxiety until we got to the classroom. There were 56 kids there instead of the normal 27, because the am and pm kinders were going together on the field trip. He sat with me until the routine (e.g. announcements, singing, stories, etc.) of the day started, then he was fine.

He rode the bus without issue and seemed completely regulated when he got to the pumpkin patch. That was a huge win!

WAITING IN LINE, AFTER GETTING OFF THE BUS

Last year I wrote about our family's trip to this pumpkin patch and O's avoidance of the suspension bridge. Well, this time, he went over the bridge. He held onto me the whole time, as I whispered encouraging words, but he did it. Another win!

After that, however, he had reached his limit. No other stretching could be done. He needed routine and stability. He needed his big squeezes and special water bottle to drink from. He needed me. And, I was grateful that I was able to be there with him.

O AND I CALMING DOWN, WHILE SITTING ON BALES OF HAY

FINALLY! HE GOT TO PICK HIS PUMPKIN.

As I drove to work later that afternoon, I thought about the morning and cried and cried. I also stopped for lunch at In-n-Out burger (I'm a bit of a stress eater).

I was so proud of what O had accomplished that day. But, I was still so sad. I realized why. At least that day, I wanted O to do well, for him and for me, but mostly for his peers. I wanted to prevent a melt down because I didn't want any of his friends, or their parents, to see it. He has been making friends and playing well with the boys in his class and I didn't want that to be jeopardized in any way. I didn't want them to know he was different.

Now, I just have one more thing to worry about. Will they treat him differently now? Will their parents judge me for the decisions I made? Maybe they won't even remember. Maybe it really doesn't matter, in the long-run. But, it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, now.

I tried to talk to one of the mom's about it. She asked, Won't he grow out of it? I never got the chance to tell her, No, he won't. While he has and will continue to develop ways to cope with his anxiety and SPD, it will never leave him. Some days I think it has gotten easier. He has made so much growth. But there are those other days, like the day of the field trip, that I know that his life will always be harder than most.

What I am so grateful for is the truth in this song. I wrote about it my young warrior post and it has become O's theme song, in my mind. They other night, as I was driving O to soccer practice, the song came on the radio...and he started singing it. I know that he is too young to truly understand the words and their meaning. But, I am grateful that he is beginning to speak and rehearse that truth.

The morning of the pumpkin patch trip, O was with me in the bathroom as I was getting ready to go. I started singing, like I often do. This time he finished the words...

Me:  The God of angel armies...

O:  ...is always by my side.

That's right, buddy. He is.