Pieces of Home

We recently gave up our northerner status to move to the southern city of Goose Creek South Carolina. We are close to Charleston, so I'm not sure if we can be called Charlestonians or not- maybe Goose Creekians? I'm thinking that's probably not a word though. In fact, I'm sure it's not.

At any rate, we are here. I have worried long and hard about how this would affect Rowen. I figured Lane would catch on like he always does but Rowen is usually a hit or miss. So far so good with how he has adapted. He says he likes it here better, but I wonder if that is somewhat due to the fact that the 9-hour drive down is not something he is ready to repeat. Me neither, since I had 2 boys and a dog in a stuffed car. Brenner drove the moving truck down in utter silence.

Utter silence.

Mmm, silence.

Rowen and his brother have been getting along so much better. They sort of have to I guess, or they'd be bored out of their minds by now. There aren't any children on our street and with school being out we don't have a whole lot of options for them to make friends just yet. It's things like this that make me wonder how things will turn out here. I am sure we are in the right place, but I figured it wouldn't necessarily come easy.

At the pool the other day, doing my usual hovering over Rowen to make sure he was getting along ok, I spotted another mom with similar mom language. She was staying close by her boy who had special needs as well. He was 13 and nonverbal. I watched her for awhile as she followed his every move to make sure he was ok. She spoke my language on some level, I could tell. At one point she sat with him in the baby pool all by herself. I hoped she was enjoying the sun, but she was on. She was on like I often feel. Not a bad thing- hey it's time well spent with our kids- but it is an exhausting thing. An- I'm not really relaxing poolside here so much as I am on mom-spy duty- on.

I watched her on mom-spy duty for awhile. She was there for her boy. I doubt she'd have been standing in the kiddie pool staring blankly for any other reason. I had this urge to let her know that someone saw her. I saw her. I know the feeling of not being seen for who we are, and it can be lonely. I am sure Rowen is mistaken for a "bad" kid pretty often. I get it. I know how we look sometimes. It's not a conversation that I want to go through 20 times a day: "Well, he's a really anxious kid so he feels defensive all the time and can say and do some pretty rude things... eh- forget it, we are going home."

I'm sure most moms can say they feel unseen on some level, but for us it can be a little different. I wanted to run up to her and give her a hug- a high five maybe to say she was doing a great job. I also wanted to let her know that I saw her son. I wonder how many do. I sometimes wonder who sees Rowen. For those that have taken the time to see him beyond his rough exterior, he is there- a boy who just wants to be loved. He just doesn't always go about it in the best way- yeah, social cues? Not always his thing.  

So I had to. I walked over to her and extended a hand. Hi there, I am special needs mom too. I speak your language and wanted to say hello. I see you. I also see your son.

We talked briefly and though I knew her son couldn't answer my questions, I asked them anyway. I see you, sweet boy. I see you, loving mom.

On our way out that day, we happened to make an exit at the same time. Lane and I stood by the door as she shuffled out with her son. He looked at me and with no reservations reached out for a hug. He never spoke a word to me, but the look on his face said it all.

"You just made my day!" I said to him, knowing he wouldn't respond verbally. In that moment I felt a little piece of home again- 600-some miles away from Ohio and I realized that little pieces of home are everywhere. I am a special needs mom and I love my boys for every piece of home they give me every day. Even if it is a little on the exhausting side. I know some see me and some don't. I know some see Rowen and some don't. I hope more and more start looking and find what might be beyond our sight. Little pieces of home in a little boy who can drive me just as crazy as I love him. And that's a lot.

So I think we'll be ok. I am sure he will find his way. I am sure we all will. If I keep looking, I will see them. Little pieces of home in a place I never thought I'd be. But I am here now- with my boys- and we will call this home.

Bye-bye Nouns

We are homeschoolers.

Before you look at me as if I have horns sprouting from my head, let me explain!

We homeschool and it has been one of the best decisions I have ever made for Rowen. Granted, I may have a few more gray hairs but I am still alive and kicking. Well, alive anyway.

Our year started out ok but quickly fell under the category of "What the heck was I thinking?!" If it hadn't been for my obsessive need for complete and utter clarity before getting started, I may have thrown in the towel. Many times. But clarity in doing what I was doing prevailed. And Starbucks.

I learned that Rowen's anxiety did not only stem from classroom distractions when it came to academics. I experienced it with him in a quiet room with just the two of us. He would worry. He would fret. He believed that I would tell everyone how stupid he is because he got a math problem wrong.

I always thought he was fine academically. I never worried about the homework in his backpack so much as him throwing up before school because he couldn't stomach going. I never worried, that is, until I sat next to him day in and day out and discovered how wrong I was. When the cloud cover of anxiety is lowered, he can do much better of course, but there was still something... off. It turns out that "something" was learning disabilities. But wait, he has autism. And ADHD. And adrenal dysfunction. And... what was that last diagnosis? I had been so focused on all of that that I missed the forest for the trees.

So I got to work on seeing the forest again. I once again had to step back from all I knew and had to make my own way. I remember one of the first days trying to teach Rowen what a noun was as he screamed with tears in his eyes.

But you have to know this! I thought. It is, after all, a second-grade level book and therefore you must start here and know all of this right now! See, it says right on the cover... SECOND GRADE!

It was a defining moment for me. Forget nouns when this kid struggles so hard to read that he wants to kill himself. So I said bye-bye nouns and hello to my child.

So we went back in time. We pulled out all our first grade artillery to get him comfortable. To get him to hate the process a little less. Dare I say, to love learning? To build him up into the kid that doesn't have to hate himself just to tell me what a noun is. To be... Rowen.

I am happy to say that the journey already looks different. He has built back up to where he can randomly say to me, "Mom, I think I love myself now." How 'bout them apples? Forget nouns, I see confidence. I see grace. I see Rowen.

It's not perfect. I am not Mary Poppins or Mary Tyler Moore. Some days are still really tough. But we are making it work.

And don't fret because I did come back to nouns just last week. We made it back there, but this time with a kid who reads to me well enough that I had to ask yesterday if he skipped pages because he zoomed through it without even asking for help. A far cry from me sitting next to him and lining every word with my finger just so he could stick to it.

So what is a noun, Rowen? A person, place, or thing. And what do you think about that? I think I love myself.

But for the grace of God we are here. I hope it sticks, although I do hope Starbucks never goes out of business.