You Deserve Better

I am in my 5th season as a special needs mom.  We were inducted into the club of Special Needs Families Club almost 5 years ago to the date.  5 years ago, we were home and resting from a sedated MRI earlier that day.  Until October 19, 2012, I was a fairly optimistic person when it came to anything medical.  I miss the ignorance and unawareness that I had 5 years ago, today.  

I thought the MRI and the sedation was the hard part!  

I thought we would be cleared the following day.

I thought our lives would still be "normal".

October 19, 2012, started off like any other day.  We woke up, we got ready, and we went to the hospital to see a doctor for a review of the scan.  While going to the hospital wasn't "normal" for us, it became pretty normal fairly quick.  I remember pushing the stroller.  I remember my sweet big chubby boy, who still couldn't sit up on his own yet at 9 months old, snuggling in my lap.  I remember walking into the exam room, and sitting in the uncomfortable chairs that must have been in that exact same spot for the last 25 years.  I remember the red and blue bowtie that Dr. Taylor was wearing that day.  I even remember the oblivious smile I was wearing up until his words became reality.

The diagnosis was complicated.  There was multiple parts, medical explanations, and a prognosis that labeled my sweet son with "a forever child".  A part of me died that die.  The ride home from the hospital was a blur.  I spoke to countless people on the phone after getting home, and I honestly couldn't tell you who a single one of them were.  

I remember sitting on the front porch of our house in Richmond, VA.  It was a breezy fall day, and I didn't enjoy a single second of that beautiful day.  

I was a statue.  I was destroyed.  I was helpless.  

Until that day, I hadn't truly felt like a failure as a mother.  His condition stemmed from my pregnancy.  It happened because of a virus I caught BETWEEN my pregnancies.  This was my fault.  How could I let this happen to my child.  It was my job to protect him.  I was angry and disappointed at myself, and mourning the loss of the child I had imagined growing up, being a basketball sideline mom for, watching him get married, and have children of his own one day.  That was gone.  

Therapies, wheelchairs, special classrooms, doctors, surgeries... my mind was running in circles that day.  It took a few weeks to snap out of the depression of that loss, and become the mom that my son NEEDED.  The mom he deserved.  

I contacted the Infant & Toddler Early Childhood Department in Richmond, and he was evaluated just a couple of weeks later.  Therapy began immediately and life as we knew it completely changed!

If you met my son today, it wouldn't take you long to realize he is special needs.  However, those who have watched him grow over the years know the hard work and the amazing journey he has taken to get where he is today.  The challenges that child faces daily would exhaust a lot of people and he tackles them all with a smile on his face... most of the time!  He has blown the original prognosis out of the water and is smarter than any doctor ever predicted.  He constantly makes this momma proud!

This brings me to why I wanted to write today.  While tomorrow is the 5th anniversary of D Day, that was not the point of this post.  Last night I was scrolling Facebook, when I came to a video that made me physically ill.  I thought I was actually going to throw up, and I couldn't hold the flood of tears back that poured from my eyes.  A special needs student.  A 3rd Grade.  A child who was 8 or 9 years old.  Handcuffed because of his "behavior".  Behavior that is directly due to the special needs condition that this child has.  

I wanted to take a second and speak to those who are reading that that know nothing about the life of a special needs child.  YOU THINK YOU KNOW, BUT YOU HAVE NO IDEA.

A lot of people have had some form of interaction with special needs adults and/or children, even if it isn't a part of life within their immediate or extended family.  People who have spent time with people who have special needs generally have an empathy for all people that is enviable.  The understand that sometimes you have to give someone the benefit of the doubt, that people need help, and they don't make assumptions.  It takes time for this to happen and build.  It is the reason that having special needs children, like my son, in a general education classroom is beneficial to every child in the room.  It is absolutely the least restrictive environment for him, but it also teaches the children in the class how to interact with him and others with special conditions and challenges.  These children are raised with an empathy to others.  They do not turn their nose up and they ask questions that allow education to take place.  

I understand that this day in age is very different from the 80s, the 90's, and the early 2000's.  I understand that many adults this day in age weren't exposed to special needs children and simply no nothing about how to interact with them.  BUT... there is absolutely nothing acceptable about what happened in the elementary school in Kentucky.  I am going to make it very clear that if the child in handcuffs had been my own, I would own the state of Kentucky at this point.  

This adult was clueless of how to interact, acknowledge, or handle the behaviors of this child.  The other adults in the room not only didn't stand up for the child, but one videoed the entire thing instead of taking action.  

A special needs child is in fact A CHILD.  A child that needs to be treated fairly and with respect and kindness.  The scars left from the handcuffs (which were not only placed on a child, but placed above his elbows, locking his shoulders back) will heal, but the emotional damage that this child will deal may never go away.  These special needs children trust adults because they have too.  They rely on adults, and they aren't fully independent.  They need us to protect them and care for them.  They don't need stares.  They don't need pity.  They don't need abuse.

I encourage you, the next time you come across a special needs child to treat them as you would any other child.  If you were in line at Chick Fil A and a little girl was waving at you 2 people up, would you wave back?  Would you say hi, and tell her that she is sweet?  Would you say something to make her smile?  Maybe tell her how pretty her sparkly shoes are.  If you would, do the same thing for a child with special needs.  Don't ignore them like they aren't there.  I know you were taught not to stare, and you shouldn't stare!  But they are people, so look them in the eye.  Wave to them, and tell them that you like their shoes!  You have no idea what a compliment and attention does for these children.  If you see something horrible like this handcuff horror happening, STAND UP for the child involved.  It is okay to be the person who puts the camera down and says "this is BULLS#!+ and I can't allow you to do this to this child."  

I pray that my son will never have an experience like this one, and that he will never have to lose trust in the adults who are a part of his life.  I say that same prayer for all of the special needs children  (& adults) out there.  You deserve better.  You deserve the best life possible, and I pray that you know love in big ways.

That's The Deal

I was born in 1985.  This means technically I am a (GASP) Millennial.  I am a part of the Generation X group of Millennials, which I barely made the cut on!  The term Millennial has picked up a lot of horrible stereotypes in the recent years, and thankfully... most of those ideals are applied to Generation Y, which came after me.

The Millennial stereotypes are not ones that I want people to apply to me.  Most of the characteristics I am referring too are due to intense helicopter parents that didn't want any harm to come to their babies.  It left a generation of kids that should be adults right about now, still struggling at basic life skills.  They are uncoachable, unteachable, unmanageable, and unequipped to deal with the daily challenges of the adult real world.  I lovingly call this pack of people "The Participation Trophy Crew".

I became a mom in 2010, and bumped up a rank with baby #2 in 2012.  I had no idea what being a mom would be like, and I wasn't fully prepared for it!  I had spent a lot of time around babies as a kid.  I babysat, I taught daycare & preschool classes, I was a nanny... but having your own is JUST NOT THE SAME!

One of the first things I decided was I would be a parent who establishes a home with rules.  Spending time around an adult, whose child runs the house is not something I enjoy doing.  It is hard, and uncomfortable, and my ADD leaves me only able to focus on the challenge at hand.  I feel like I am stuck in an episode of Nanny 911!  Rules change constantly, some are added, some are done away with.  They can be bent on occasion, and updated as we go.  However there are just some things that cannot be ignored in our home.

I grew up in the south, and I am very familiar with a belt, a wooden spoon, and on occasion... a hairbrush!  I got spanked, and you know what, I don't ever remember getting spanked for the same thing twice!  You learn your lesson when you get belted over something.  I'm not resentful towards my parents for spanking me.  In fact, I actually grew up to respect them.  At 32, I still hate it to the core when I disappoint them.

Now, I do not belt or wooden spoon spank my children.  However, I do have a "Spanking Spoon".  This spoon is actually a spatula.  I do not have to use it often.  In fact, I use it so little that we all forget it exists from time to time.  In my home discipline comes in many forms.  Let me just say this though, the sheer sight of that spoon is enough to command respect, hear an apology, and end any bad behavior.

My goal in my home is not for my children to fear me, or any adult.  My goal is to teach them how to respect adults, so that they can become respectable adults themselves.  That's the deal!  They have to grow up respecting the rules and everyone around them in order for that to happen.  So discipline will continue.

My daughter is in 2nd grade currently, and I cannot say enough amazing things about her school.  One of the really cool things about her school is the "House Program" they use.  When a student enters the school, they are assigned a "House" just like in Harry Potter.  You remain in that house until you graduate or leave the school.  It allows you to grow relationships and get to know students in every grade, and truly builds a team unit mentality.  You can earn points for your house in many ways.  Going to Book Club, turning in Box Tops, earning Star Rewards for good behavior, so on and so forth.  On the same note, you can LOSE points for your house when you exhibit behavior that is not up to the standards expected by the staff.  You receive several verbal warnings, before a written warning.  The written warning, causes points to be lost for your respective house.  There are many further actions that follow the written warning as well.  If you go all month without a warning, you get to attend the "Hall of Fame" for the month, which earns you the time for a special activity.

On Friday, my daughter arrived home in good spirits.  Everything was great, until the written warning was discovered in her notebook.  After the "Momvestigation" that I ran, it was determined that she in fact was very guilty.  She not only deserved the written warning, but I am somewhat surprised that she didn't receive a BRR instead.  A BRR is the step after the warning of course and goes on file.  Another student called her "Small", so she kicked the junk out of him, repeatedly.
Now... let me just state, I am all for standing up for yourself, however there is absolutely no reason whatsoever to physically hurt another child.  The only time I might look past this, is if a child was kicking my daughter, and she returned the blows in defense.  That is simply not the case here.

In a moment like this, I take a few minutes to evaluate what the best method of punishment would be.  I personally like to give her 2 options, and let her choose the punishment.  Then I usually dole out the punishment she didn't ask for because it obviously is the more upsetting and effective of the 2.  One of her best friends had gotten off the bus with her on Friday, and was going to have a play date until about 7pm that night.  They were both very excited about it.  While I can't stand the fact, that the punishment affected the other child, the only logical option was to send this child home and cancel the play date.  My daughter was distraught that her actions had caused the loss of time with her friend, and I think it will effectively encourage better behavior at school.  No spanking spoon needed!!!

My point in this post, is this... it is my responsibility as a parent to teach my children what is right and wrong.  I am not her friend, although I hope she feels she can come to me about anything.  I am her parent, and I have to ensure that she can grow to be responsible, independent, and respectful of others.  That means discipline.  That means rules.  That means letting her fail and learn from her mistakes.  Being a parent is tough, and sometimes it isn't very fun!!  But, my job remains the same.  I am not raising someone who will fall into that "Millennial Stereotype".  I am raising someone who will be the boss lady one day!  I am raising someone who will achieve her dreams one day!  I am raising someone who will be an amazing mom, and hopefully pass on those ideals to her children.

I am a mom.  A mom with rules, and a mom is runs this household!
That's the Deal!

It's My Story

My story started 32 and a half years ago.  It started in North Carolina, and at some point in the 90's, I picked up a pencil, and started writing my book.  In my 32 years, I have had to make a lot of choices. Some of the choices I made were good, some were amazing, and some where terrible.  Along the path of life, I was writing my story.  A twisted hot mess version of life!  Learning lessons along the way, and sometimes wishing I could erase the last chapter, I kept writing.

In 2007, I changed my last name.  The story kept going, but now the author's name was different.  My idea of what that name change meant, at the time, is one that most would see as antiquated this day in age.  While the word submit is not something I believe should apply to any relationship, I fully dedicated myself to my growing family.

3 years after my name change, our family grew by 1.  I officially became a mom, and I learned what the deepest form of love felt like.  I never wanted to be a stay at home mom, but one look at that sweet baby girl, and I was officially retired!  In 2010, Pinterest was new to the world, and mom life was still a LOT of guess and check!  I had a flip phone with a terrible camera, so I wasn't always sharing pictures of our day.  I wasn't constantly getting feedback, and I didn't feel judged.

We relocated a year later to Richmond, VA, and I had to start a new life, from what felt like scratch!  I had a 15 month old child, and learned our family was going to grow by 1 more the month of the move.  It took time to land on my feet and feel like Virginia was home, but eventually I had built a life there.  Friends became family, and I learned to love this new state and home.  I also became the proud owner of an iPhone that year, and in 2012 I created an Instagram account.

I started sharing sweet pictures of my babies online, and the world was able to see my happy little family.  What they didn't see, was the struggle that began that year.  The struggle that lasted for the next 5 years of my life.

Trust is everything in a relationship, and when it is shattered, the foundation crumbles.  It is hard to regain, to rebuild, and cracks become giant sink holes if you aren't careful.  Ignoring the problem only creates more, but I did just that.  I smiled, and I kept smiling.  Posting pictures, I continued writing a story for the world to see.  This isn't who I am.  I am not fake.  I am honest, and transparent, and I didn't even realize what a hypocrite I had become.

Last year, another relocation made northern Maryland home, and once again... I found myself starting over.  I lost all of the help I had in Virginia, I was without those friends who had become family, and I was alone.  I started building a life and without realizing it, I let go of the ownership rights to my story.  I handed the pen to someone else, and they started writing my story for me.  I had a ghost writer, that I never hired.  I continued to post pictures and the world assumed everything was beautiful.  I focused on things like a new small business, or redecorating my home, to avoid the hole that my relationship had eaten in my life.

Last month, my world shattered.  The person I had built my life around, walked away.
For days I was in complete shock.  How could this happen?  What is going on?  Why?  I needed answers.  After a week or 2, I realized that the shock wasn't because the end had arrived.  That happened a long time ago.  I had stopped writing my story.  I couldn't even find the pencil.  I had to go to the store, buy a new one, and sharpen it!!!  This wasn't me.  I am not this person.
I am blunt.  I am honest.  I am transparent.  Yet, the number of people who knew what was going on was very short.  Social media had created a monster!  A monster that I can't stand.

For decades, no one talked about miscarriage.  It wasn't to be discussed.  So when I had a miscarriage in 2009, I was FLOORED, to learn how many people have experienced the same crushing pain.
Relationship problems seem to be the same.  No one talks about them, because they are embarrassed that life isn't perfect.  Truth is, no relationship is perfect... NONE.  If someone says their relationship is ending, there shouldn't be shock from family and friends.  There should be questions, there should be support, there should be encouragement.  I was BLOWN away by how much of this I have received in the last few weeks.
Questions... "Are you okay?"  "What can I do to help?"  "How can I pray?"
Support... "I love you."  "Let me watch the kids."  "I am taking you to lunch."
Encouragement... "You are an amazing mom."  "You are doing great."  "Keep it up Jess."

And through the last 5 weeks, I have started writing again.  It is because of the constant support and encouragement that I have found the will to write.  I am blessed beyond all definitions of the word.  2 incredible kids that I get the gift of raising, friends and Family who love me unconditionally, and a God that loves me without failing.  And I am excited to return to North Carolina where my story began to continue writing my future.

I am going to be okay, in fact... I am going to be more than okay!  I am going to be great!  I am the author again, because this story belongs to me!