bad into grateful

Today I am tired...

Tired of seeing Donald Trump on my television every 8 minutes.

I'm tired of growing bangs I never wanted but bleach gave me out. It's been six months now, and they still only reach the bottom of my eyes. Yep, they were that short to begin with. I've felt ugly pretty much every day since then.

Tired of being so damned introspective in a world where the majority of people just so totally ARE NOT.  Most people just do what they do and don't know why, don't analyze why, don't care why. It makes me feel like I speak a foreign language in my homeland and I'm desperate.

I'm tired of my husband traveling for work.

I'm tired of my dogs barking like we are being attacked every damn time there is a dog on TV. Or walking by our house.

I'm tired of going to the grocery store without a list, or even a plan for meals...but I have to be in the mood to write that out and think that up. That's just more grown up than I'm feeling at this moment. I really think someone should just read this and bring me some dinner. I'll take your left overs. I'm not picky.

I'm tired of waking up at night, numerous times, afraid of some struggles we've had with Grey's schooling. I can manage those feelings during the day, but at night they grow big and have scary teeth and they wake me up. I'm tired of feeling so damned much. Sometimes I wish I could trade in my Type A tightly wound for super laid back.

And the good thing is, I'm fickle. And all these feelings will probably turn upside down and look different tomorrow.

Even now, I will try to rewrite my mind...

I am glad we live in a Democracy, and super glad that not only do we have a big huge TV, we also have a REMOTE, and I can change the channel any time.

I am grateful that I have any hair. There are people suffering from alopecia. Women who are undergoing chemotherapy and have no hair, and on top of that, are scared and sick.

I am grateful that I am so damned introspective. It makes me so empathetic. It makes me love people and life and all the meaning woven throughout our existence. It means I know myself well enough to know what brings me passion and what brings me pain, and I can tailor my life to that knowledge.

I am grateful that my husband has a well paying job that affords me to stay home with the best little boys on earth.

I am so happy I can go to the grocery store and buy food for my family. I can buy the boys their favorite snacks. I can make healthier meals instead of always getting take out. I can buy fresh fruit which is better than flowers because they are pretty and you can eat them.

And I'm so so so incredibly grateful, for the team each boy has to support their learning and growing and developing. Grateful for a teacher who took the time to fill out a form about Grey today. Thanks to her I know that he ate his lunch and worked on feelings. Thankful for our awesome, amazing ABA team of life changers. Grateful for the clinical director of our Home Behavior therapy. She goes to IEP's and even comes over on a Friday afternoon if we are putting a fire out. She gives the best no nonsense advice. Grateful for Teacher Amy our Speech Therapists. Not only does she teach my boys, she helps me when I'm confused. Which is a lot. We are so blessed with the services we have. We are even more blessed with the extra love they provide our family with.

As you can see, I have so much to be grateful for. Even the things I can trick myself into thinking are problems.

How would you rewrite your problems as blessings? Try it right now. You will be amazed by what you discover.



April is autism awareness month. And as usual, I have weird feelings about that. It feels like it's supposed to be a holiday, or celebration- for a disorder. And the people that get into it- and share about it --and read about it- are usually the people already affected by autism and already know this stuff. Sure, I could tell you that autism affects 1 in 68. I could tell you that autism is a social, communication and behavioral disorder neurological in form. So what? These facts won't change the world. So I want to reach the people who don't know anyone with autism. People who are not affected by it. What do I want to say to you?

I guess I just want to remind you that you are loved. Exactly the way you are, and you should be because you are awesome and somebody can't live without you in the world. There are things about you that make your life harder. Maybe you can't hear. Maybe you were abused growing up. Maybe you suffer from depression. Maybe your spouse is having an affair. Maybe you lost your job. Your hard life circumstances makes your life unique- but your painful story isn't your defining feature. It's not the most interesting thing about you. Hopefully you used your pain and grew and stretched and learned more about the world than you even knew was possible. If you are really lucky, you used your story to connect to others. The greatest gift we can give to others is to remind them- Me too. I feel that way too. I understand you.

We all deserve to be loved, exactly for who we are right this very moment in time. Not once we are skinny, or less crazy, or more patient or perfect. We deserve to exist in judgment free zones. We deserve to be understood. Being misunderstood is the root of so much pain. We deserve to have our story heard, listened to, appreciated. We simply deserve understanding, because when people understand our own story, they are often more accepting of their own.

To me, Autism awareness means learning to love and accept what is different about ourselves, so we can understand and love what is different about others. My sons level of different may be greater than yours or mine, but still they are just simply different. We all are.










Believe me when I tell you that autism is the least interesting thing about my two precious boys. They are the same as many other kids. They love to swing, and play with trains, and are happiest outside. They love to get dirty and go swimming and cuddle with me in the morning. 

They are also different. Communicating is so hard for them! When they can't explain themselves, they can get really frustrated. Sometimes they just find life easier when they play by themselves. They are smart and brave and shine like the golden sunlight right before the sun sets. They make me believe in God and magic. They don't talk much, but when they do, it feels like my own personal rainbow. And like you, and we all deserve to be loved, exactly the way we are.






Greyson and Parker, thank you for showing me the meaning of life.
XOXO Mom

risen

Having children that view the world differently, causes me to view my children differently. To expect differently. To process differently. To perceive myself, the world, God, people---pretty much every single thing-differently.

Easter started out feeling normal. Two little ones too young to get the traditions anyway. Too young to scream, "Get this damn bunny costume off me!"




I knew one day they would get it- and that is when the real fun would begin!

But they never did end up getting it, and that has left me in tears in the past. This one was a doozy. Tears because my boys didn't know or care about an Easter Bunny. They didn't search for eggs excitedly. I guided them to one egg. I made them pick it up. I made them open it while they cried. They didn't even care there was candy inside. WHAT NOW PINTEREST?!

What are holidays without a child to enjoy them with? I wondered.

A few years later, now I can say I figured it out. Oh my friend, they are so so so much than that. Yes, more than my hopes or expectations. More than a fricking bunny, or a fat man with a red suit or a jack o lantern.

They are love, and goodness and time spent together. They are not dying eggs because your kids don't give a rat's ass- which is actually- just easier. It's focusing and what and who matters the most to your one precious, gorgeous, different life. It's -How can I ask the world to accept my sons as different- if I myself can not accept my life as different? 


He smiles while he rides his bike. This kid does life like no other. He brings it inside with him, and rides from room to room. Like-duh. So much easier than walking. I don't even stop him because I just can't. He's just so happy while he does it. I can always buy new floors.

I say yes. To this life. To its details, some unexpected. To the process.

This weekend we prepare for Easter on Sunday. Easter is the oldest Christian holiday and considered the most important day of the church year. It is the celebration The resurrection of Jesus is the Christian religious belief that, after being put to death, Jesus rose again from the dead;"On the third day he rose again in accordance with the Scriptures".

Can you imagine the pain everyone felt when Jesus died? Oh man, especially his mother? Now that I am a mom I can not fathom that pain. And then the shock they must have felt when they realized the unbelievable had happened. It's a message, an important one that never expires and one that we simply must apply to our own life.

Be patient. Believe in the impossible. An impossible bigger than any expectations you could ever even dream of. It will take time. Be patient.

I am an extremely skilled patience practicer. I am not perfect at it. In fact, I am usually, mostly awful at it. But it's God's will that I be put in situations that test my patience over and over again. I simply had to wait with a willingness to not expect.

Man, that's hard. The waiting part AND the not expecting part. It first really happened when I moved to Los Angeles. For a boy. Sheesh. It's always a boy or acting. We didn't work out, but I got myself a six month lease and decided to wait it out. If I could do LA on my own, I would stay. And if I couldn't- well, I would move back to Missouri. I wished that life was a Choose Your Own Adventure book, and that I could see how the story unfolded.

And the next stark period of patience was with my 18 month old son, Greyson. Why isn't he talking? Why do I have to call his name 100 times? What is going on and why can't anyone tell me? I spoke with doctors and had hearing and language tests. He passed them all. I just had to wait. Wait and wait for an appointment with the very entity that tells you how important Early Intervention is. Really? Then why is my important not for three more months?

And then again, Greyson was 26 months old. The realization after one particular Google search gutted me inside out. Autism. Autism. Autism. Over and over it echo'ed in my brain. My skin and bones knew it before my head did. I sobbed out loud as I then searched for any potential increased likelihood of autism in siblings. Surely this lighting didn't strike the same family twice, right? RIGHT?!!!!


Parker, one day old

Parker was only 4 months old. The percentages sucked- Parents who have a child with autism have about a 1 in 5 chance of having a second child with autism. I knew either way I wouldn't know anything until Parker was at least 14 months old.... And I'll be damned if I was going to miss out on soaking up his babyness being worried every single day. So I made a decision- I will wait, and I will deal with the situation when enough tomorrows have occurred.



And now, in little and big ways we all are waiting a million little outcomes. We are practicing patience. We will never perfect it, and that's ok.

Wait... You never know what your Risen may look like.





So glad you are here, sharing this space. I honor every one of your comments, prayers and well wishes. Happy Easter or whatever the heck you celebrate.

XOXO,
Chrissy and the whole Kelly family

hitting the wall and bouncing back

Every once in awhile, I am reminded that the Universe is so much bigger than me.

I am one tiny human, and the Universe actually is titanic, so comparatively speaking, I don't really understand how I can forget something SO obvious SO often. But I do. Again and again. And then I remember, again and again. I think the most tremendous and important lessons we learn in life have to be taught to us over and over and over again.

I am a slow learner when it comes to life. Perhaps that is life's very definition- a story in which we slowly learn. Is there a theme in your life that you just cant seem to get away from?

When my world, my problems, my thoughts are feeling HUGE and the world shrinks away, I am always brought back. Brought back by loud music, exercise, time with a friend, writing, time, the ocean, the setting sun or by listening to the stories we all carry in our heart and our arms and our words. Connecting through stories makes me feel better. Your stories. My friends stories. Our old widower neighbor, Tom's story. Today I was watching the kids in the drop off lane come and go at Grey's school. For twenty minutes Grey and I sat there watching each car go by. I was fascinated at how different and how the same each experience was, each car carrying its own amazing story. A love story. A story of loss and gain and perseverance and joy. I loved watching the little kids who were still young enough to yell out, "I love you!" without a shred of self conscience. Today I fell in love with those stories that I didn't even get to hear, but got to see. 

And just like that- today, I am back. I see my reflection in the mirror and recognize her again. She might have come back yesterday, I didn't really pay attention. Where have you been? I ask. I don't like it when you go away.

Saturday I hit the wall. Then I fell down smack on the floor. And melted into a puddle. Life has just been so so hard. And when life is so so hard, that means I am dealing with things I can not control. I don't mind hard things that I get to fix nearly as much. But it's hard to breath when there are hard things I can't fix. 

And I can handle anything physical. I am so mind over matter about that stuff. I can do hot yoga or run a marathon or have 18 inch steel rods placed on either side of my spine for scoliosis. I can give birth after my epidural wore off (thanks Doodle). My mind and my body work together to get through that kind of stuff.

But emotional stuff exhausts me like nothing else in the world. I can not mind over mind myself. My mind alone is too stubborn, too strong willed. There were times I would come home after an evening session of marriage counseling and just go to bed. I was so tired I couldn't speak or even think or watch TV. And the stresses from the past couple of weeks have been emotional. And based on things completely out of my control.

Ughhh.


We've had some growing pains with Grey's school. Things I haven't been able to put into perspective or understand. I've had to communicate wants, needs and disenchantment much more than I'm used to. I'm not the type of person to send my meal back. I'll just eat it. But when my meal is replaced with stuff for my boys- well, then I have to send my meal back. And that aint easy for me. And the Universe is hell bent on teaching me this lesson. So I am trying. And struggling and learning and unlearning and trying.

Sometimes I just don't know where to find the energy to keep trying.


And as always, when things are hard or feel impossible- God also ALWAYS sends in the angels. People who get it, who live it, who want what I want because it's right- not because I want it. People who are helping to make things good. People with passion. I don't care about technical skill, fancy degrees or knowledge, at least not nearly as much as I care about character, passion and heart. You can't fake those things, and that is what I seek. And trust me- there are so many people who care about kids with character,passion and heart. In fact, that's why I never tell people- "You are the only one who will advocate for your child." Because that's just NOT RIGHT. And if you are the only one advocating for your child, well then you aren't getting services from the right people! Heck, I'll help you advocate for your child. Tell me what it is you need help with.


Ok, so that stuff,  plus Michael being gone for work and Grey getting sick- and me not being able to clone myself. I'd carry a fevering, pajama'ed Grey to the car so I could drop Doodle off at school and therapy. By the time I started the engine, they would both be screaming. And at home, Grey would cry for me to lie in the bed with him, but if I did that- Parker would take all the knives out on the knife holder on the kitchen counter, or somehow find medicine not locked up and somehow open the child proof lid, or be found by a neighbor, an entire block away, with no pants on, riding a bike, and carrying a toy saxophone. All true stories.

So by the weekend, well I was DONE. So done that I couldn't meet a friend for a drink or go for a walk or do anything but put on pajamas at 6:30pm on Friday. I wasn't feeling any better on Saturday. In the later afternoon I took Parker to the grocery store, and while pulling out of my spot, a woman who was in too much of a hurry to put her cart back, backed into me.

We exchanged insurance information. I held it together. I pretended to be sane. I drove home, walked in our house and immediately started squealing crying. Sobbing. Screaming. I CAN'T DO IT!!! "Do what?" Michael asks confused.

ALL OF IT. ALL OF IT. LIFE!!! You traveling! The boys! Are hard! Grey's School! HARD! Cooking! Cleaning!!! EVERYTHING. SO HARD. I cried so hard my eyes got puffy and I sat on the couch with the TV on while I stared at the wall for hours. I ate two HUGE rectangle pieces of grocery store sheet cake and a pint of ice cream. Seriously.

I had to remind myself, just keep putting one foot in front of the other...








You will get there. Where ever the hell there is.


But that swell is over, that wave knocked me off my board, and slammed salt water up my nose. But this week I got back up.  And that same life that was so awful last week, is suddenly manageable this one. Happiness =circumstance + perspective. Luckily this week my perspective (and some of my circumstances) are so much better.

If you are going through a hard time...



I can handle today. Tomorrow, I can handle tomorrow. I haven't made it through a tomorrow I couldn't handle. I bet you haven't either.

Some scenes from the past couple days...


Parker watching The Good Dinosaur


#flappyhour


My escape artist on his vehicle of choice.


And every once in awhile I feel like the Universe is so small. The perfect kind of small where everything is manageable. Today when I picked Parker up from school, I saw him zooming around on a bike. A real, actual bike- not like our dinky little tricycle at home. It was out of nowhere. Actually, out of days and days and weeks and years of trying and then nowhere. Seriously- years. Don't even get me started on how long it took to get him to wear a helmet. (ABA THERAPISTS- YOU ROCK!!! TEAM PARKER WE LOOOOOVE YOU!!!!) He's probably been working on this for two years. But he can do it LIKE A BOSS. And my heart is full.

And it was a two person bike so of course I had to get on the back. We rode like this for at least twenty minutes. He was pedaling ME. My mouth was wide open laughing and squealing the entire time. And I could cry because it was just THE GREATEST feelings all at once. Like heart healing and accomplishment and peace and God and mint chip ice cream with the chocolate shavings as chips and not big chunks. The sun was shining and a breeze was blowing and just like that- I knew everything I've been struggling with lately is going to be ok. The great thing about having a kid who learns differently- is that sometimes you are shocked by seeing something just so totally unexpected. Here's a video for you to watch. (Thank you so much for recording it Jordann!!! We love you.)




Magic. Perspective. So much good. It's crazy how much autism teaches me every single day. Character defining goodness I never would have known, had it not been for my boys.


Thank you for the picture, Zoua!!!

I wish I could take a magic wand and take away autism, but since I can't- I will learn everything I can about life from it. I will absorb all the stories it wants to tell. I owe that to my boys and to everyone who has ever struggled with the pangs of different.

So much love,

Chrissy