Mother of This Year

DSCF0569Today over at A Mother on the Road Less Traveled, I disclose a less-than-flattering side of motherhood. Just a few days before Mother’s Day, I’ve been thinking about what kind of mother I have become … this year.

I thought it better to do this BEFORE Mother’s Day, before the brunch mimosa clouds my brain. As Mother’s Day approaches, it’s hard not to give in to the expectation of flowers and candy and breakfasts in bed, and to agree with the general population that I deserve this kind of adulation.

The truth is, there is a lot of room for improvement. As you will see if you read the other blog post.

The good news is … there is still time. Every day is a fresh chance to love a little more selflessly, forgive a little more deliberately, and to ponder the very real (albeit painful) connection between who we are … and what we choose.

So this year, for Mother’s Day, I’d like to skip the white roses and dark chocolate (lovely as those things are). Instead I’d like to stock up on empathy, gentleness, and kindness. God knows my kids need them even more than I do. And while my DH can’t make a last-minute run to Walmart to stock up on these particular commodities, I’m hoping that my prayer will reach the right ears.

What do YOU want for Mother’s Day this year?

Easter Blessings

As thousands of new Catholics celebrate their reception into the Church, those of us who were received in years past look back with a mixture of gratitude and wonder. In particular, we wonder where has the time gone?

christopher-comm-brother-and-sisterIf I needed a visual, I have only to look at my children’s faces and see it. This one, taken for Christopher’s first communion in 2008, captures a time of sheer joy and innocence. They had been officially “ours” for just three years. Three years since they had been baptized, and had joyfully shouted “We have a new name!”

Fast forward nearly a decade, and …  Here the kids just received a surprise from my Chris and Sarahfriend (and theirs), Maria Johnson, handmade Franciscan rosaries. Seeing this image, I am reminded of the many friends (like Bego) who reached out to us over the last twelve years. And I remember how the kids have grown into their own faith. I smile as I watch Chris entranced in the flame of his own taper at the Easter Vigil, and thrill at the sound of Sarah standing next to me in the choir, belting out the high notes better than I ever could have hoped to do myself.

For Craig and me, it has been a journey of blind trust and faith in God, too. We have learned how limited are our own resources, and how bountiful are God’s mercies. We have experienced the power of prayer to create small miracles and change hearts. And we have learned how unique and unrepeatable is family life. To take small victories where we find them. And that the point of parenthood is not to turn small souls into replicas of ourselves, but to help them become — as fully as possible, in good times and bad — the best versions of themselves.

Wishing you and yours the richest blessings of the Easter season.

Revive Us Again

shroud.jpgHeading into Holy Week, my parish (Queen of Peace in Mishawaka, Indiana) is hosting a special display of the Shroud of Turin. (Not the original cloth shroud, but a photographic likeness flanked by displays outlining the history of the shroud and the scientific research done to ascertain the identity of the man whose image was miraculously imprinted upon it.)

As I sat pondering the display, I found myself thinking about a homily I heard a couple of weeks ago, while traveling to Atlanta to visit my elderly parents. It was serendipitous; I had merely picked the church closest to our hotel. But when the priest started talking about the raising of Lazarus as a “resuscitation” rather than a “resurrection,” his explanation stayed with me.

When Jesus raised Lazarus and others, prior to his own resurrection, these miracles served as a sign of who Jesus was — and what he had come to do through his atoning passion, death, and resurrection. And yet, the priest reminded us, this was not “resurrection” in the same sense that Jesus was raised, in his glorified state.

“Imagine what Lazarus experienced,” Father said. “He awakened, no doubt stiff and sore from lying on a stone bench for three days. He was still subject to pain and illness, and would one day die again. His was not the glorified state, a true resurrection. Rather, it was a sign that he still had work to do.”

On Saturday, the Church welcomes thousands of new Catholics — some receiving all the sacraments for the first time, others are simply confirmed. But each in some way suffers a little death, a putting away of the old and a putting on of the risen Christ. And each of us, whether our faith can be measured in minutes or decades, have work to do.

As a Catholic mom and writer, I confess that right now I feel very much in need of revival. If parenting were a marathon, it feels as though I am sorely in need of a second wind. And so, this year I look forward to the Easter season with great anticipation, trusting God for a “second wind” for my family. Like Lazarus, may Jesus breathe new life into us by the Spirit, that we might finish the race strong.

What it is like to parent a child who can never be left alone

Coping with the well-meaning but hurtful comments of those on the peripheries is one of the hardest parts of parenting a special-needs child. This woman speaks her truth with great courage … pass it on to someone who needs a dose of empathy! (Then pray for this family. Thanks!)

faithmummy

When your baby is born you promise them the world. You promise to look after them, keep them safe and be there for them. When they are tiny and lying so innocently in your arms fully dependent upon others to meet all their needs it is so easy to promise them you will never leave them.
The reality is though that children grow. As they grow they need to learn responsibility, resilience, and independence and all three of these require periods of not being constantly supervised by a parent. I want to say I never ever set out to be over bearing, or a so called ‘helicopter parent’ or paranoid in any way.

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Unfortunately though life changed the way I parent my son. He has multiple difficulties and wether I want to or not he simply can NOT be left unattended at any time, even at age 8.
Going to…

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Special Needs Teens: Afraid to Dream?

jesseAs children grow, it’s only natural for parents to dream of the day they become full-fledged adults, capable of making their own decisions, paying their own bills, and deciding where to live and work.

When you’re raising special needs teens, however, that dream can take very different forms. For us, the dreams are less often about personal achievement than a quest for simple independence:

  • If we invest in that private tutor, negotiate the right IEP, nag and push until we are blue … can he get him to squeak by enough of his classes to get a diploma?
  • Can she really live with her friend in an apartment, or is she going to need a group home and a guardian?
  • If he gets a certificate of completion, what jobs can he get after graduation?

Yesterday my friend Diane and I went to an event at Goshen College for parents of adult (and soon to be adult) children with developmental disabilities: Down syndrome, fetal alcohol syndrome, autism spectrum, and other life-long disabilities. As parents of disabled teenagers, we needed to make plans to help him transition to some kind of independence.

In addition to the keynote sessions on creating trusts, guardianship (and less drastic alternatives, and how to secure disability services (from the Bureau of Developmental Disabilities Services, or BBDS – pronounced “BEEDS”), there were a variety of organizations represented to help families make timely, informed choices. Here are some of the organizations that caught my attention:

  • The Arc Indiana (Indianapolis, Indiana). Karly Sciortino-Poulter, their Outreach Grants Administrator, presented information on guardianships and guardianship alternatives (such as limited guardianships, powers of attorney, healthcare and/or educational representatives. She also urged families to make a “future plan” using the “Center for Future Planning” tool (https://futureplanning.thearc.org/) to guide conversations to protect and provide for the disabled adult while allowing him or her to participate as they are able in the decision making process. For more information, call 800-382-9100 and ask for Laura.
  • Camp Mariposa (www.moyerfoundation.org; summer camp for students with disabilities, with other camps specifically for children who are living with a family member coping with addiction or bereavement). Founded by the Moyer Foundation, with branches in Seattle and Philadelphia.
  • Erskine Green Training Institute (Muncie, Indiana: erskinegreeninstitute.org) This post-secondary school certificate program is for disabled adults who have obtained a diploma, GED, or certificate of completion. Each ten to thirteen week session prepares students for careers in hotel, medical, and food industry.
  • Logan Institute/Community Resources (South Bend, Indiana, logancenter.org). Provides social, emotional, vocational, and other support to people with intellectual and developmental disabilities – including residential services and family supports.
  • GateWay Services (Benton Harbor, Michigan gatewayvro.org). Provides transitional and independence services for disabled adults in Michigan.

If you have a teenager and need to make a transition plan, and are a resident of Indiana, I suggest you begin by reaching out to the Indiana Family & Social Services Administration (100 W South Street, Suite 100, South Bend, IN: 877-218-3059). Or contact the Arc to begin the process. The application for BDDS can take a year, so it’s best to begin the process well in advance of the child’s 18th birthday.

Crafts for Lent!

Advent-and-Lent-paper-chains-resuseableAre you looking for some fun things to do with your family as we journey toward Easter? Today I came across Monica McConkey’s blog Arma Dei, and her post entitled “Equipping Catholic Families for Lent” as part of the Catholic Women Bloggers Network Lenten round up. You can find more Lenten-themed blogs on Allison Gingras’ blog Reconciled to You.

Stay tuned for the next round up on March 21, when the Network will be buzzing about … true stories about going to confession!

The Last Mile: To My Son on His 17th

heidi-2016Originally I posted this at “A Mother on the Road Less Traveled.” But since we are in the middle of #40Day Challenge: Mother Teresa Edition, I decided to move this tribute here.

Because of the pictures I post most often on my blog, it would be reasonable to assume that we have only one child: my incandescent fifteen-year-old who never met a camera lens she doesn’t like.

But today we celebrate the birthday of another child who, though allergic to getting his picture taken (ahem), is also my pride and joy.

He turns seventeen today. Yes, on Ash Wednesday. Father says he can still have birthday cake – though he can offer it up if he wants to. (Which he probably would, so long as I give him the same weight in frozen blueberries.) We have one more year together until he finishes high school and officially launches himself into adulthood. Christopher, in honor of your birthday today I want you to know 17 reasons I’m so grateful God brought you into our lives.

  1. You’re my “homeboy.” Unlike Sarah, who can’t wait to launch herself into the big, wide world, you are happiest here (well, here with your girlfriend). And though you spend most of your waking hours in the toxic zone of your room, because it is your birthday I won’t go there!
  2. You are funny. Your classmates and teachers, your friends, and your family all delight in your wicked, playful, Christopher-ish sense of humor. Yes, you sometimes use it to get out of trouble (who wouldn’t?). But you are one funny guy.
  3. Your smile. The sight of that roguish grin makes me all warm inside. Like sunshine on a cloudy day. You long for braces … and you will get them. But I love your smile just the way it is.
  4. Your art. You love your colored pencils, and have killed whole trees in your drive to capture the perfect animae character. You have an artist’s soul.
  5. You are kind and loyal. Two of the qualities I most admire about your dad, you have in spades as well. Despite all the changes in your life, you hold your friends fast.
  6. You love fiercely. It takes my breath away — and frankly makes me a little scared for you — to see how you give yourself to your friends without holding anything back. I pray that they will always return the favor.
  7. You believe, no matter what. When your schoolmates challenge and tease you, you don’t back down. You know what you believe, and stick to it in good times and bad.
  8. You can see your future, and know what you want. That house in Michigan, a good job, and a family. In an age when marriage is a shaky institution, you aspire to be a good husband and father. That makes me prouder than I can say.
  9. Your compassion. Even when your sister annoys the snot out of you, at the first tear you are visibly moved to reach out to her.
  10. Your eyes. They dance when you are happy, they cloud over when life gets hard. Those clear blue orbs really are a window to your soul.
  11. You are easy to make happy. A large bowl of ice cream (with blueberries, if possible) with your girlfriend and an animae cartoon … Or an afternoon with Jacob on his farm. These are the things that light you up.
  12. You try. When you mess up, you do your best to fix it. Over and over again, you start over and keep trying. That’s a hard skill … and you have it.
  13. You take to heart my advice. You don’t always look like you are listening … but I see you taking up the challenge.
  14. Your balancing act. Part boy, part man … all heart.
  15. Your quest for goodness. You sometimes mess up (we all do). But I have no doubt that, in your heart, you want to be a good person and make the right choices.
  16. You trust people. Despite all the difficult hand life has tossed your way, you keep reaching out.
  17. You call me mom. You are the only boy in the world with that particular challenge. Because of you, my heart lives outside my body — and I have the privilege of helping you achieve your dreams. I’m so proud to call you my son.

Happy Birthday, Christopher!

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