gift of sight
May 23rd, 2012 § Leave a Comment
This morning my husband and I sat with a group of teachers, therapists, and administrators listening to individual reports measuring my daughter’s abilities and weighing resources to best facilitate her academic needs. Throughout the meeting I felt my daughter’s toothless smile peeking between the endless pages of documentation.
As I make peace with uncomfortable labels I keep returning to the image of my daughter quietly asking me to look beyond the words and read this moment truthfully, wholeheartedly embracing her story authentically. To do this I must acknowledge my own truths. In a personal note to a close friend I shared dark words of shame: There is a part of me that wants to block this piece out, pretend it away.
The question is which part of my daughter would I wish away? There is no singular gift that is not, in part, tied to her challenges. Her sense of compassion for others fostered in an appreciation for challenges; her patience born of tolerance for differences; her creativity a lovely substitute for more conventional forms of expression. Which beautiful piece of her spirit would I trade for a simpler path?
Would I trade her ability to hear birds sing or see the sunset for the ability to memorize math facts? Could I trade the sight of her chasing fireflies or painting a daydream for a mastery of sight words? I cannot separate pieces of my daughter and still see her completely.
These challenges are part of her story and I am her witness. At the end of this journey I will know how difficult her path was and the effort it took to reach her goals. Instead of wishing away this moment, I am trying to honor my daughter.
hope & help
May 22nd, 2012 § Leave a Comment
I have been here before; the emotional landscape familiar. Uncertain, hopeful, nervous. This week I will gather with the same team of teachers, therapists, and administrators that accompanied me on my son’s journey through elementary school to address nagging uncertainties concerning my daughter’s challenges in the classroom setting.
Where some rush to label needs, I have cautiously tiptoed the terrain silently evaluating my daughter’s strengths and difficulties in an effort to measure need. Bright and compassionate, resilient and determined I celebrate her character and growth. Young for her class and a little sister to an older sibling with special needs I gauged maturity and environment against my concerns.
As time has passed my daughter’s frustration has begun to rob her of her easy smile and confidence. Where I measure her growth against independent efforts, she has begun measuring her failure against others’ success. Once eager to line up among friends and begin the day, my daughter has begun to hide beneath her blanket and drag her feet preparing for school. This is where I cannot fail.
As a student of life I cannot bear the thought that my daughter could resist an opportunity to learn or that school has become a place marred by failure rather than a safe haven for ideas and curiosity. This moment of self-doubt must evolve into a new lesson in resilience. Tomorrow I will bring this hope into action: that we partner between home and school to create a place of possibility and nurture the spirit of education that my daughter will once again reach for the stars without first measuring the impossible distance from a place grounded in doubt.
to my son
May 20th, 2012 § Leave a Comment
Thank you for your easy company. I forget sometimes to set aside my worries and teaching moments for simpler moments of shared time. While your father and sister embarked on an outdoor adventure, we settled into lazy, directionless time together and the conversation skills I normally practice with you unfolded easily. The sound of your laughter and your sharp wit were a happy soundtrack to our errands and meals together. You are ever the little boy who used to toddle along beside me, but now your form stretches near my height and your gait falls comfortably in my company. There are no photographs to capture our laughter and no extravagant plans to recall this time. Just a moment’s reflection with a full heart. I loved you from the very beginning, but liking who you are is an endless blessing. Love, Mom
diy
May 15th, 2012 § Leave a Comment
The surfaces of my home are scattered with tiles and tools as my husband pieces together the final elements of projects long unfinished. I have spent most of the past week avoiding the din of progress in the unfinished areas of our home. I thought at first it was a matter of chaos, my inherent need for quiet to sift through my thoughts disrupted by the uneven intervals of the saw blade slicing tiles. Today it occurred to me I am more preoccupied by the permanence of the lingering elements. Blank slates now tinted with tones of commitment; possibility replaced with permanence. I am perpetually uncertain, navigating each choice and weighing each cost a story within a story. Peeking prematurely at a project I had long hesitated to finish I was happily surprised to find a sense of self between the elements. As we draw close to finishing the remaining rooms of our home I want to give thanks to my husband for his patience and persistence. Each paint color, tile, and floor board was placed with love for the people who live within these walls. This do it yourself home done selflessly.
mother’s helper
May 11th, 2012 § Leave a Comment
Motherhood has been a journey of love and discovery I share with my husband. From the first days of clumsy uncertainty and sleepless nights I have been blessed with a genuine partnership in parenting. My husband and I speak a silent code of gestures and tones that reach across rooms of our home calling for a spontaneous celebration, quiet collaboration, or reprieve from a moment’s frustration. This Mother’s Day I am giving thanks for the strength and humor that balances my endless worries.
My favorite moments as a mother are greater for witnessing my children and my husband together. Playful and patient, my husband feeds their natural curiosity with the same ease I curl them into my company over a book or in the event an unfortunate moment robs them of their smile.
An oversized adolescent he startles our children out of slumber with play while I run through an invisible checklist each morning. Where my responses are often measured, my husband laughs sincerely and heartily with a boisterousness that invites humor in moments weighted with worry. Quite often he is the raucous force inside the picture frame while I hold the camera to capture the image.
At the end of the day I look forward to unraveling our experiences into stories, drawing him into our timeline from the mundane to the miraculous. I could measure our life in the expressions my husband and I exchange over the tops of our children’s heads as we give thanks for a life well shared. It is a story of simple joys and unconditional love, sprinkled with humor and kindness.
irony & intention
May 7th, 2012 § Leave a Comment
Sometimes the most exhausting relationships inspire greater self-awareness. A relative who overpowers a room evokes an appreciation for a quieter strength founded in compromise. A dramatic acquaintance lends appreciation for the beauty of simplicity. A negative soul highlights an appreciation for a positive outlook.
Occasionally a strong discomfort is an internal acknowledgment of my own challenges reflected in another’s behavior. Ironically some of my greatest mentors are the contradictory characters who draw into consciousness an opportunity to grow and live with greater intent.
When discomfort casts light on an unflattering trait I acknowledge the unpleasant flaw is not merely a sign of weakness but an occasion to fortify knowledge with a new perspective. My body recognizes uncertainty with tension that exaggerates doubt, frustration, and denial. When I let go of my hold on certainty I am rewarded with a surge of clarity that washes away anxiety.
Setting aside the emotions that blur my ability to process another’s lesson, my mind opens more freely. Sometimes a new perspective inspires me to create change and other times another validates existing beliefs. Awareness breeds intention.
This note is my reminder for myself to keep curiosity and compassion close to conviction lest I overlook a lesson disguised as a moment’s frustration.
house & home
May 6th, 2012 § Leave a Comment
My husband and I have always spoken of change with an expectation that each occasion presented an opportunity to realize the promise of an abstract sense of possibility. We dream out loud on subjects ranging from work and children, to hobbies and home. Some subjects we address with a romantic sense of whimsy; our dreams alluring for their stark contrast to reality. There are dreams that if realized I might miss their uncertain possibility and other dreams more beautiful once weighted in reality.
Our first home remodeling project came to fruition in the glow of newlywed ignorance. The absence of expectations created a sense of adventure that helped the days pass with tolerance for temporary inconveniences. Years later in our second home dust and disaster were equally acceptable as we converted my husband’s childhood home into something of our own. More recently I began to dread the reality of our remaining remodeling projects with the same measure of anxiety as enthusiasm for the anticipated expectation of change.
Fine layers of dust and the disharmony that accompanies the chaotic atmosphere of construction left me with all the patience of a two-year old. I wanted to sit on our narrow stairway, blocking the path and halting the progress of a much needed renovation. Even the wallpaper is ready to retire, curling self-consciously from its seam. It is time for my vision to expand and encompass a moment my husband and I have dreamed of; the end of a once long list of house projects.
As we near this moment I pause to give thanks for the generous spirit that lovingly makes our house, our home. Long hours between work and play were devoted to each room of our home. My husband tirelessly transforming his childhood home into our children’s home.
I have happy memories of our kitchen floor, bare concrete filled with chalk outlines of our children’s forms; beneath my office carpet there are painted footprints in the pattern of our daughter’s toddler steps from her eager endeavors to paint; the memory of my son proudly demolishing an old brick fireplace with the awkward weight of a sledgehammer balanced by the twinkle in his eyes; tiny scratches in our hardwood floor stir memories of our puppy. The strength of each room’s walls keep us safe and the love inside them guards our dreams. Without the company of my family and the possibility of dreams, our home is just a house.
jekyll & hyde
May 5th, 2012 § Leave a Comment
Dimpled smiles and sentimental gestures have been replaced with passive aggressive posturing; deep sighs, eye rolls, and argumentative mumblings. My mild-mannered Mr. Darcy has been transformed into a preteen tangle of emotions. Gone are the eloquent laments and generous demonstrations of gratitude; in its place is a temperamental curiosity that calls me Mom.
Jekyll reaches for my hand when we cross traffic and hugs me before leaving for school. Hyde rants that he needs more respect; bemoaning my high expectations. Jekyll says please and Hyde groans what. I comfort myself with the knowledge that these dramatic demonstrations of exaggerated irritation are exclamations of independence, but time has passed so quickly that it seems impossible to reconcile the reality of Hyde with the company of Jekyll. How quickly we have arrived at this place of adolescence.
I abhor the angst, but listen to Hyde’s litany of perceived transgressions against Jekyll’s pride. I cling to patience reaching for a connection that will bridge the space between moods. Hormones exaggerate emotions that underlie frustration; contentment challenging conflict with little cause. Hidden beneath my irritation there is humor; the endearing big brown eyes that roll so laboriously and the heartfelt sighs of injustice are delivered with preteen panache.
quiet
May 1st, 2012 § Leave a Comment
In the frenzied moment of spontaneous certainty when I first tagged a name and theme to this curious space I embraced the phrase serendipitous refelctions with a quiet confidence. Thoughts bubble to the surface of my consciousness with little warning sending me scrambling for note paper or the staccato of my fingers dashing across keys as I endeavor to tuck my thoughts safely into words.
Recently my days have passed quickly with a hurried busyness; my limbs heavy with exhaustion born less of physical exertion and more of emotional distraction. I could not seem to still myself long enough to unravel my thoughts into words. Worries for my son’s social needs, my daughter’s academic needs, and a loneliness for my husband’s company tug at my attention.
This week I am consciously shifting from momentum to intention. I am remembering to give thanks for my children’s strengths rather than dwell on their challenges; I am celebrating my husband’s company on this unpredictable journey as a family rather than daydreaming of time alone. My quiet here reflects my peacefulness as I center my mind, body, and spirit in gratitude.
open mind, full heart
April 25th, 2012 § 4 Comments
My day today began with a meeting, a discussion with a member of my daughter’s educational team who shares a special history with me. Six years ago we met across a large table in a formal meeting where several therapists and educators evaluated my son’s educational needs. This morning we met casually, seated at a much smaller table perched in child size chairs to discuss my daughter’s educational needs. We could have just as easily been old friends meeting for coffee and sharing stories about our children; her smile is a source of encouragement and humor.
Recently I watched a friend begin her own journey into the language of special needs in an elementary school setting. Her child’s challenges differ from my children’s, but my advice is simple: begin with an open mind. Even in moments of uncertainty and frustration, I try to open my mind to explore different perspectives. I listen, ask questions, and research to weigh my decisions. I also remember each of the professionals that work with my children have experience that lends me a wealth of knowledge.
I left the meeting today aware of a mutual respect and sense of friendship. The community of teachers, therapists, and administrators that I have come to know over the years have become an extension of our family. They offer kindness and guidance during difficult moments with the same genuine appreciation they applaud each of my children’s accomplishments. It is a partnership that extends beyond polite exchanges and paperwork. I see the faces of mothers and fathers that understand my role as a parent. I see friends eager to share a resource or a smile. In return I meet them with an open mind, ready to advocate for my children, and grateful for professionals passionate about their work.
