Wednesday, May 10, 2017

The cement pond

Things were feeling real with the move. Not only were we moving 14 hours, back to my hometown, a stones-throw from my parents, but the move would entail us living with my parents for the next 6 months (which turned into 9). My husband and I, our two kids, and the 50 pound dog, were moving into my parent’s house. I was 40 and hadn’t lived at this house full-time since I was seventeen. It was going to be interesting.
The lot my parents had offered to us had an old, dilapidated house on it, so my dad took care of getting it torn down, so by the time we arrived back in Indiana, the lot was ready for the house. However, the plans weren’t ready.

Before the move, we had started working with a builder. I knew what we needed in a house, so one day I sat down with some graph paper and got creative. In a matter of a few hours, I had drawn our dream house. It had everything we needed as a family...a game room for the kids; a kitchen large enough to entertain my large, extended family; an office for the hubby; a quiet place for me to write; and doors big enough to fit our wheelchairs down the road (because I’m never moving again).

The most important part of the house plans was a large area over the garage with its own private staircase through the mudroom. It would be stage 2 of the building process, but as all parents of kiddos on the spectrum know, we always have to be one step ahead of the game, so this was our way of planning for the future. Hopefully, all goes well and Hunter starts an independent life of his own and this area becomes a man cave or storage. As him mom, this is what I hope and pray and work tirelessly to make sure happens, but if not, plan B is available.
Once we arrived home, we had to finalize the plans. We thought this would be a quick process, but the few drafts of plans took longer than we anticipated. We moved home the last weekend in May of 2016 and the build finally started the last week in July of 2016. It felt like it took forever! Did I mention we were living with my parents? Things at home actually went fairly smoothly. Everyone was pretty patient with each other, but we were joining two homes…two completely different homes with different schedules and routines and ways of living…and it wasn’t always easy. We were all growing impatient.

The building could not start soon enough, but when it finally happened, it could not have been more exciting, not just for us, but for the entire town. On July 26th, the crawl space was dug. Then, the rain began to fall and continued for almost 2 weeks.

They were able to get the blocks laid on August 2nd. We could have sold tickets to the event. Cars would drive by at a snail’s pace and the golf carts (did I mention they are legal on the streets in our little town) had their own little parade up and down our street daily. It was fun to watch it.
We were all so excited after our day of watching the block layers, that we decided to celebrate. Mom and Dad took us out to Applebees...
I love this picture because it shows the pure exhaustion that was being felt at the time (notice the large circles around my eyes). We were excited, but too tired for it to show.
The excitement only lasted so long, because blocks soon made a beautiful border to hold in the rain. We soon had  a swimming pool as the rain continued to fall. The weather not only delayed us, but it changed the schedule of all of our contractors who were trying to finish other jobs, so the wait continued…


Monday, April 17, 2017

Moving Day

The decision was made. We were moving again. This time from a large city in Texas to a Mayberry-sized town in Indiana. The kids weren’t sure what to think. Texas had been home to them for 4 years. When we moved, they were 6 and 11. This had become home to them.
Grant had only gone to school with his friends in Texas. The idea of moving scared him, but he was very excited about moving closer to family. Hunter was in high school and had met some friends, but those friendships had gone south.  He wasn’t keeping up with his schoolwork and we weren’t sure what the next step was with him, but he wasn’t happy at all about the impending change and leaving his friends.

Needless to say, we had some difficult conversations, but we knew we were making plans for our future and this was where we needed to be, so we worked our butts off organizing closets and the garage, painting, and cleaning the house from top to bottom. In early March of 2016, the house was officially on the market.

Along with the many emotions of moving and leaving friends that I dearly loved, every day was a battle to keep the house clean. I felt like a drill sergeant with the kids and thought I was going to lose it. Two kids and two dogs, does not a clean house make, so it was an uphill battle. It all seems like a blur now, but somehow after 30 showings, the house sold in 5 weeks.

Now came the really fun part…packing all of our crap! I knew we had a lot of stuff, but I thought our move 4 years earlier had rid us of the clutter. It absolutely did not!!!! We spent the next 4 weeks before closing, packing and packing and drinking wine by the gallon. (In the interest of full disclosure, the wine part was just me.)
In early May, amongst the craziness of our lives, I received the call that my Grandmother was very sick. We rushed home, driving through the night to get to her so I could say my final good-bye. It was sad and beautiful at the same time, as I watched my entire large, crazy family spend her final hours with her. We hugged her and kissed her and told her how much we loved her, and then in an instant she was gone. The next several days were very hard. Our hearts were broken because she was truly the matriarch of our family. Life would never be the same without her in it.

After a week in Indiana, we found ourselves back on the road to Texas. It was moving time. We pulled a trailer in front of our house and loaded it every single day. The kids were finishing up school, my hubby was finishing up loose ends at his office in Dallas, and packing was taking every other minute of our time.
Then, on May 11th, my fur baby Starlett Chanel passed away. We knew she was sick and we knew it was coming sooner than later. She had been very sick and could no longer walk. I was changing her diapers and bathing her every day. Sleep was just a distant memory. We were hoping to get her back to Indiana, but instead, she went the way she would have wanted to go, in my husband’s arms. She was only 7, so it was so hard to lose her.

In mid-May, my parents came down with a big trailer to help us move. They helped us pack for a few days.  After a huge moving day of all the heavy furniture, beds and remaining boxes, they left with a full trailer to bring some of our things back to Indiana. The rest would follow later in moving trucks.
We found ourselves in an empty home for the next week, so the kiddos could finish school. The emotions were abundant. We were sad to leave our friends; excited about our new journey; nervous about everything we were about to take on; and exhausted beyond belief.

The next weekend, we pulled out of the driveway of the place we had called home for 4 years. There were tears in all of our eyes and a heaviness in our hearts as we started our new adventure.

Monday, April 10, 2017

Love takes you home

As I mentioned in my previous post, this past year has been a little crazy. In December of 2015, we traveled back home to Indiana from Texas for Christmas break. During our several trips home per year, my hubby and I would try to take advantage of the extra babysitting hands. This time was no different, so we went out for a few date nights. Each time we were out, we found ourselves looking for “For Sale” signs and “Lot for Sale” signs. It became almost a daily activity.
We found ourselves vaguely discussing the possibility of moving home. Then, we found ourselves becoming more and more serious about the scenario. We had not intended to move to Texas, and we had never planned on it being our permanent home, but something was pulling on our heart strings to do it sooner, not later. We missed our family. Parents and grandparents were getting older. Our kids were missing out on quality family time. Plus, our support system was at home, and as all parents of children with special needs know, having extra hands and eyes is so important. The idea became more and more real.
We had not seriously spoken with our family about moving back home. Our parents didn’t know. Our kids didn’t know. We just had serious, late-night couple talks about the possibility and how we could make it happen. When we moved to Texas, we had moved from a town that was relatively close to our family (about 30 minutes). This time, we really wanted to live in the small town where I grew up. It is a quaint little town. Everybody knows everybody else’s business (which can be good and bad).  When I was young, I had the majority of my large Catholic family living within blocks of me. Because of this, I am very close to my aunts and uncles and most of my cousins are more like siblings to me. It is a weird dynamic for some, but for me, it has been amazing! I wanted the same for my kiddos.

Once we arrived back in Texas from Christmas break, the discussions became pretty serious. My hubby had spoken to the powers-at-be at work about working from home in Indiana and traveling back and forth to Dallas and they were onboard. The search for a house became ongoing. I would check the real estate websites daily.

Then, one day in January a beautiful old home caught my eye. It would need a lot of work. Were we willing to take on that large of a project? How would we even know if we didn’t make the 14-hour trip to find out? We discussed it…and discussed it…and talked it over with the kids who were a little surprised, but had overheard some of our discussions. Then, we called our parents to let them know that we were coming home to look at a house. The cat was out of the bag.

We drove through the night on a Friday to get home to look at the house. It was a long drive and we were very tired and a little excited. We met with the realtor and looked at the house. It was as cute as the pictures showed online, but seemed really small. We would have to put a lot of money into expansion, and the foundation was a little concerning. We left the house feeling like the trip home might have been a huge and exhausting waste of time.
We spent hours on Saturday looking at lots because the homes for sale were scarce. People who were born and raised there don’t often move very far away and people who move into the area, don’t like to leave, making the real estate a hot commodity. We found some interesting prospects that we were throwing around. Then, our story made a surprising turn.
After arriving home from looking at lots, my parents graciously offered up a lot they had purchased as an investment. It was just down the road from them (I mean a stones-throw). At first, I thought, “This is ABSOLUTELY not going to happen!” I am a forty-something year-old woman. Do I want to live that close to my parents? Then, I thought about it and the idea grew on me. My kids could walk to my parent’s house. I would be close by to take care of them later. I had grown-up across the street from my Grandparents, and it was such an amazing blessing! The question became, “What is the hubby going to say about this one?” He had lived far away from grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins as a child. This was a whole new ballgame for him. Was this going to scare him? Surprisingly, as I was tossing these thoughts around in my head and contemplating the magnitude of it all he said, “I would be open to that idea. What do you think?” So…this is how our busy year began!

Saturday, April 8, 2017

Rediscovering my lifeline

I’ve been kind of out of the loop for a while, off the radar, taking a break from the thing I love to do most in this world…write. Part of it has been our amazingly crazy life the past year (more to follow), some of it has been lack of clarity.  I’ve had people message me and ask when I was going to write again. Family and friends have stopped me and asked me why I wasn’t writing. The truth is, I just didn’t have it in me. I am out of practice, but I am going to force myself do it again. I need to. It is what makes me happy and keeps the small amount of sanity I have intact. Bear with me because the writing might be subpar at best.

Here goes…

In 2012, my hubby unexpectedly lost his job. We had just finished remodeling our kitchen and family room of our older home. We had hung the final pictures on the wall on Tuesday evening and by Friday afternoon, he was looking for jobs. Soon we found ourselves uprooting our family to Denton, Texas from Indiana. We started a brand new life. It was difficult. We were away from family and friends and our support group. It was hard. I was alone in a big city. My hubby was working crazy hours. Our kids were trying to adjust. I knew no one. Having a child with Autism made this even more difficult. He was angry about moving. He was struggling making new friends. He was almost 12, so the hormones were in full swing. There were days I just didn’t know how I was going to make it. I was trying to hold it together for my kids and my hubby. Putting on a brave face for everyone around me.

In March of 2013, my husband came home to find me still in my PJs for the third day in a row and he said, “Maybe you should start writing again…” This in a nutshell meant I think you are losing your shit, so maybe you need to do something so you do go over the edge, so I did it. By the next afternoon, I had started my Sassy Aspie Mom blog. I had figured out Twitter and Facebook and Blogger and posted 3 things. For the first time in a very long time, I felt alive. Don’t tell my husband this, but he was right!

Writing has been a way for me to stay connected to those around me, especially parents going through similar life experiences. Being the parent of a child with Autism can be very lonely. You learn very early on that your child’s accomplishments and goals are going to be different, and that is okay. It isn’t easy, however, to fit into the conversations of the parents around you. It can be isolating. I found that by writing my blog, I suddenly opened my world to a group of people with the same hopes and dreams for their children, but who also understood the stresses and concerns of raising a child on the spectrum. Suddenly, I found that people were reaching out to me to find out how I handled certain situations…the initial diagnosis, school, medications, bullying, telling the child about their diagnosis. I was able to help in small ways to make those parents feel less lonely, less scared, and less isolated, by talking about my own experience. The feeling was mutual.

As parents of children on the spectrum, it is really important to remember that we have to have our own lifelines. Talking to others, reading a book, taking a walk, getting a massage, journaling, writing a blog…whatever brings you back to center, has to be part of your routine or you will lose yourself. It is not selfish, it is essential to a life full of taking care of others. 

Thursday, April 28, 2016

Hunter's Gameplan

Several months ago, Hunter and I began having serious discussions about his future. What were his goals? What career did he want to pursue? He is so much like his dad in so many ways, so I always assumed he would want to follow in his footsteps and do something in the business field. Nothing else had ever really occurred to me until he started talking about becoming a writer. I was shocked!
I wanted to have a better understanding of his interests, so I had him take several online aptitude tests. Much to my surprise, my boy not only looks like me, but he has a lot of my creative interests. The tests showed over and over that he should be a writer, blogger, teacher or historian.

His freshman year of high school has been full of super highs and super lows. There have been many life lessons learned about friendships. He's been hurt, mad and sad lately. I knew he needed a way to express his emotions because he felt very alone and frustrated, so I asked him if he would like to start writing his own blog. When I didn't know where to turn in life, I started writing, so I thought maybe it would help him. It would be a creative outlet, something to turn his attention away from those people who were making his life miserable. Maybe this would be a way to get his mind off his troubles, use his creativity, and maybe even start setting those goals for his future.

I think the suggestion of beginning his own blog surprised him. At first he acted like I was insane, but several weeks later, he did it! I got an email from school one day with the subject "blog". I smiled. The poor boy is a lot like is mom.

Here it is ladies and gentlemen... my boy's very own blog: Hunter's Gameplan

When Peyton Manning retired no one was surprised. You could feel him slip away over the course of the last couple of years. When his numbers went down in 2014, it was easy to assume that his career was coming to an end. In comparison to his 2013 fifty-five touchdowns in a single season, who would have thought that in 2015 he would throw more interceptions than touchdown’s? However, in 2016, Manning showed amazing resilience, going out on top with a Super Bowl win. In order to claim the victory, he had to rely more on his run game and defense, rather than his raw talent and amazing arm of years prior.

When reflecting on Super Bowl wins for Denver, it is hard for me not to compare the performance of Peyton to that of John Elway. Elway, the only other quarterback to ever bring home a Super Bowl victory for the Broncos, happens to be my favorite player of all time. When comparing the two player’s games, it is easy to see that Elway had a much better running game than Manning's. In Elway’s last two years, he brought home 2 Super Bowl victories. He ended his career stronger than Manning's with higher stats and a Super Bowl MVP award.

Now that their season has ended in victory, it is hard to see what the future holds for Denver. With the absence of Manning and Brock Osweiler leaving for Houston, next year's path seems uncertain. One thing I know for sure is that Peyton Manning will be a first ballot Hall of Famer.


Wednesday, January 13, 2016

A little word with the genius who scheduled finals after Christmas Break

Some genius, who obviously doesn't have children, and definitely doesn't have kiddos on the spectrum, decided to schedule finals for the second week after Christmas Break. I try not to have ill-will towards others. However, I would be lying if I said I didn't have hopes that this person is suffering from severe bouts of insomnia, stomach aches, and a few nightmares after they finally get to sleep.

Let me get this straight, the proper decision for our childrens' education is to send them on a two week break from school; fill them with lots of junk food, candy and cookies; get them completely off their schedules; make sure they are getting way less sleep than normal and get them excited about gifts, snow, and the new year. Then, let them start the new school year with a week filled with trying to get into a routine, eating right, getting to bed at a normal time and doing homework. Meanwhile, the parents are failing miserably at getting an entire household back into the swing of things and are completely exhausted. Now, let's have the week after the recovery week be filled with exams that can make or break semester grades. Let's make sure these exams are filled with information they learned long before they had a two week Christmas Break Party and a week of boot camp to get them back on track.

Sounds like a great idea to me...