Witches and Walking.

We have gone to the Gardner Village Witch Festival every October for the past three years, and it never ever disappoints.  It is just a fantastic way to begin the Holiday season.

This year the weather was beautiful, the company was awesome...and my Deak decided to surprise us all by upping his walking game.

All in the name of a nasty petting zoo.
You See...there's this thing about having a darling little Ring Chromosome in Deak's body.
I love the ring, and would not change my experience in having had this boy with his ring for second...
but, man...the kid is getting HEAVY.
I so did not want to take him into the petting zoo.
My arm ached in the anticipation of lifting him up and down, over and over, so he could see each animal.

Ab pushed me to do it, "He will love it, Mom."
I begrudgingly obeyed.
We walked in, and I placed Deak in front of me to walk by holding onto my pinkie fingers.

I figured it would last a few seconds
Nope.
He did not want to STOP!
We did walk and touch every animal possible...
and I loved every single second.

Not so certain about the no-hands gig quite yet...but, getting there.

This is where I cried.
Happy little quiet tears of gratitude.
Thanking that awesome maker of mine for the opportunity I have to watch my little guy hold onto a fence like a big boy.
...All by himself...

(I'm serious...is she the most beautiful child ever?
I think so.
Inside and out.)
Thanks to my Ab's not-so gentle push to step out of my little "must do things that are easy with Deak" routine...
I got this...

It was stinky and nasty and required lots of hand sanitizer.
But, it was beautiful and amazing and full of joy.

...A reminder that this curly blond and blue-eyed boy is capable of not only moving his feet;
he is capable of moving that tough layer of stuff that can surround the hardest of hearts.
Mostly, my own.

Fall Soccer

Soccer this Fall was different. 

 The girls played on an actual (huge) field, Ab (#7) decided she loved Goalie, and the ending scores were typically pretty close. 

It was fun...and intense...and it made me really nervous.

But, my cute Ab has fun (most days) and loves hanging out with her friends and getting treats.

Fraud.

Here's the thing...
I am so not even close to perfect.
I have never been, and will never be.
And, quite frankly...I don't want to be.
I don't even think perfect exists.

Blair and I had to speak in our Church meeting a week or so ago. 
I chose to speak on Hope; being as that it is a topic very close to my heart.
I felt it and I meant it....and to me, that is what spirituality is about.
Spirituality is finding those pieces of truth that strike your core and clinging to them when the ride gets a little too rough.
I need to believe my pieces of truth, and I do.

After the talks were given (thank freaking goodness), people were very kind and graciously mentioned they appreciated our thoughts that Sunday.  Different conversations ensued, and different ideas for really far-fetched future endeavours were thrown into the universe.

That day, and those conversations, began a spiral of thoughts that my poor husband and poor friends have been randomly subjected to at any given time.
The thoughts have mostly seemed to be migrating around this one central question: 
Am I really this person I write about? 
(You know, the one on this blog...)

After much deliberation...
My answer is yes.
Yes, I am.
Or, at least I am attempting to be.

I am trying to be a good person...just like the rest of you.
Do I succeed all the time?
Absolutely Not.
I am positive I have not been kind to all of you, all of the time.
Especially if you count Junior High and High School (please don't.)
You have probably seen me at my worst, in my car, honking mercilessly at the crappy driver in front of me
Or, maybe you have seen me out and about...
...Passed by me while in a grocery store and wondered why I didn't take the few seconds of time it requires to stop and say "Hi."

These things may be true.
But, I promise you that I pray with my daughter every night that I will be more kind tomorrow.
And, I genuinely really want to be.

I am trying to be a good mother.
Do I succeed all the time?
Not even close.
Hell, my own kid ate his urine soaked, shredded diaper Sunday morning while my lazy butt was trying to play sleep catch up.
And...my daughter wrote me a song and poem describing her feelings of frustration with my lack of awesome parenting. (Also on Sunday...it was def not a good mom day for me apparently).

These things may be true.
But...I promise you that they know I love them with my entire being.
And, I genuinely really want to be a good mother.

I am sincere.
I am not writing fraudulent checks, through this journal,  in the name of a perfectional state that I am pretending to be a part of.
I am just trying my best.
...Clinging to that tattered and over-used thread of hope that allows me to believe that trying my best is good enough...and okay. 
And knowing that intertwined within this spool of hope is a deep-rooted and thick thread of daily forgiveness.
That is the key to moving forward.
The key to trying again to be that awesomely perfect friend and wonderfully devoted mother...
...tomorrow.

Pressure.

(Spoken while sitting in a support group for children with Asperger's Syndrome)

"I cried at McDonald's last week."

"I've just been so stressed out...being at home...all day...with our 6 year old."

"Man, do not get me wrong I love my son to pieces...but sometimes it just feels as if we are living on an island with a bunch of weird rules that do not apply to anyone else...."

"The thinking and thinking...I worry about everything, Is this going to set him off?...should I take a different road to avoid the barking dog?...Everything."
"And, the pressure...man, the pressure. It is always there....and sometimes it feels like you can't breathe, you know?"

(This is a paraphrased scene from the Television series Parenthood)

(Watch in it's entirety here, or fast forward to minute 12 and watch this one minute scene)

I watched this scene alone in my room and cried.And cried. And cried.

 I wondered how the writers had been able to open up my brain and take out those deeply hidden and heavily masqueraded thoughts. 

The ones I rarely share.

The ones that sound really terrible, and pathetic and incur all sorts of interesting judgmental responses...unless you've been there.

And... if you have been there...you listen to a scene like this...and you nod your head.

You nod your head with so much energy that you get dizzy.

You nod your head, and you cry.

Because it's real.

And it feels good to know that real is okay.

Deak hates reverse.

He hates it in a major way.

Most days, if he feels the car going in reverse, he immediately begins with a small and than gradually increased (depending on the length of time) screaming fit.

Do not even THINK about attempting to reverse twice in a row.

It's just one of those things we do now; we attempt to only drive forward, for fear of tantrum.

Deak likes buttons on toys, and generally has to have a toy with some sort of sound-making button available at.all.times and in.all.places.

At church, at school, at the bank, during soccer games...etc. etc.
It's what we do.

Deak refuses to place his cup on the table while eating a meal.

Can he?

YES.

Does he choose to?

NO.

He chooses to chuck his cup across the room when he is done drinking it for that moment, and then typically proceeds to sign "more" or scream for it again two minutes later.

Discipline is different with him; at times it is just survival of the fittest, and Deak's voice can out scream the hell out of mine any day.
So, we pick up the cup 476 times a day.
It's what we do.

These are a few of our "rules."

...Just a few...

And, I know with all of my heart, that it could be worse.

I am also very respectfully aware of the fact that the proportion of awesomeness in regards to Deak's behaviors is totally incomparable in relation to our difficulties.

But, man...Do I worry about following these rules, and keeping the peace and making sure I am doing all that I should be doing to help Deak reach his full potential in life?

Ummm, yep.
Every.single.second of every.single.day.

That's pressure.

So Much Freaking Pressure.

Sometimes I feel the pressure so strongly that I literally feel as if my brain will explode if I do not do something right this second to make Deakon's life better.

I've felt like a piece of crap parent in the therapy department lately.

Deak has had years and years (okay four) of therapy.

All sorts:  Occupational, Physical and Speech.

They have been fantastic, and much needed, and very helpful in many ways.
But, seriously...the list of therapies Deak has not been involved in far outweighs what I have done for him.
There's equine, and aquatic, and sensory-processing and even ABA to help with social skills.
Lots and lots of parents do lots and lots more.
Man, I wish I could.

I have had some help from my mother in law transporting Deak to some of these therapies in the past year, due to my work schedule, and have appreciated her help more than words can say.
But, I have still not forgiven myself for accepting it.

The pressure says it needs to be me there, and if I'm not, I am a failure.

I know, the pressure sucks.

During the past few months we have had to cut down on Deak's therapy schedule because the therapists at Shriner's Hospital (whom I cannot give enough praise to) schedule their appointments during school hours, and Deak is in school half of each day now.  It just hasn't worked...with the exception of speech.

I have beat and beat myself up over this...not knowing how to fit in all of Deak's endless possible therapies with a full time work schedule and, heaven forbid, another child's activity schedule.

But...he is so close.

So close to walking...and I need to feel like I'm doing everything in my power to make this process happen for him.

I contacted a private physical therapist through an outpatient Primary Children's Hospital facility today, and Deak is scheduled in two weeks.

I called Blair to let him know and he paused, "Jen...do you really want to add this to your schedule?"

My response, "I can't take my brain anymore if I don't to something to help him. I can.not.take it."

He was supportive, yet cautious, completely aware that this adventure I was taking he and Deak on was not cheap.

But, he knew I was barely breathing.

And, for the record, I am nearly certain that I too, have cried at McDonald's.
And Arby's.
And probably Wendy's.
(We eat a lot of Fast Food).

Fall.

Fall, in our house, is typically a chaotic time.

School starts, and that requires a certain amount of time and effort to get used to.

So...we wade, knee-deep inside boots that are sometimes much to large for us to fill.

But, we survive...and maybe even enjoy ourselves while doing it.

I'm not your average "Oh, I LOVE Fall" kind-of girl.

Maybe it's the San Diego childhood and its' blue-skied, 78 Degree year-round season.

Maybe it's the knowledge that with the wisps of cool air come the looming determination that Winter will inevitably conquer and rule for a most unpleasant three or so months.

Either way...I enjoy Fall...but, I don't feel the undying support that so many offer to it.
I'm a late Spring/Summer lover.

This year though, things are different.

I am different.

I am learning to love me now.

Love my life now.

And, love whatever season of life I happen to be entering.

So, for that reason...Fall has been pretty awesome so far.

And let's get serious, Fall brings with it two pretty fantastic staples:

Football and pumpkin squares.
I could live a happy woman if I were to only eat pumpkin squares and drink diet coke with ice, from the fountain.

This year we have entered into a habit of attending high school football games every Friday night.

Ab actually loves it...a.lot.  It also helps that Aunt Maddi stands up and cheers in front of us most nights.

Ab is at the age where she runs around without constant parental supervision and pretends she is a few years older than she actually is.  It scared Blair beyond comprehension the first night I allowed her to wander with her girlfriends, but now we are managing to let the give on the leash loosen a bit - she is having a blast. 

Ab with her friend from Cheerleading,Grace, and below with Maddi.

Viewmont Mini-Cheer Camp

Before the Davis Homecoming Game (in a special brown and gold outfit, including hair ribbon, that she planned and put on).

The nice lady at the ticket counter told her she was so cute she didn't have to pay to get in.

Ab thought that was pretty sweet.

So did my wallet.

Watching Deak during these games is somewhat of a chore (to say the least), but he is actually really enjoying himself (for the first half or so, which we will take).  Deak would have not been able to tolerate the madness that is high school football last year.  The sheer number of the crowd alone would have been enough to do him in, not including the yelling and screaming.

But, not this year. 

The second we walk into the stadium he claps hard and smiles big.  Every time either side (he's pretty impartial) does something well, and people cheer...he is right there with them -clapping his big beautiful brains out. Knowing how hard he has to work to filter out all that outside stimuli just makes me beam from ear to ear.  I know it sounds silly and possibly a little ridiculous considering all Deak has to deal with, but ...those football dreams just came naturally for me when I learned I was having a son...and those dreams can still come true.

Just in a little bit of a different way...a way that I am okay with.

Ab and Deak while we ate suckers and watched Blair play in a softball game.

Ab is coming with, and actually enjoying her U of U Season Ticket this year, and we are loving spending this alone time with her.

(We have not yet braved the College crowd with Deak).

During our semi-traditional (okay, we've done it twice) "leaf hunt" in the mountains/really close little trail 10 minutes away from our house:)

And, PS...although the pictures may describe otherwise, Abby actually really enjoyed herself.

Who am I to complain about this Fall stuff?

It's pretty close to perfect.

This one time, over Labor Day, we went to Park City.

It feels like an eternity ago.

But, it wasn't.

We got to go to Park City again over Labor Day weekend with my fam, and stay in a FABULOUS condo.  We had a great time. So nice to sit back and chill for a while. The weather was beautiful, and I even managed to ride a bike for the first time in years...many years...(I even rode five miles:).  That bike ride was def in my top ten memories of awesome parenting; due in part to the fact that Ab screamed at the top of her lungs, "I'M GOING TO DIE!" as if someone was stabbing her repeatedly...the entire first half of the ride. We had chosen to allow her to ride tandem with Blair; she had a child sized bike, and he was biking with a nice man sized one.  She was super stoked about the idea, until we started moving.  If it weren't for the high-power dramatics, I may have actually chosen to help her.  But, I couldn't, it was just too entertaining to watch.  Okay fine, at the halfway point, we let her ride in the bike carrier with Deak (who also did his fair share of screaming each time the bike stopped).

But...hey...we had a good time, damn it.

Here is the proof:

 Main Street Pizza and Noodle...so overpriced...and so worth it.

Deak believes that in order to properly show a smile, one must completely close their eyes.

Deak was a pro on the slide this time; loving the ride up in the ski lift...and hysterically laughing the entire way down.

Ab's first time riding solo. She did awesome and did not scream at all:)

Cam is such a sweet boy...we are all kind of suckers for him.

 The Miner's Day Parade (Do not ask me about Ab's balloon pose, I gave up asking questions many years ago.)

Even though family weekends like this feel at times as if they are a little stressed, they are the stuff that build memories.

And really, what are family memories worth if they don't include moments of near death experiences.;)

This is the good stuff.

Pure.Joy.

Lately, it feels as if I am only getting a second to write when I don't have access to my home computer for picture posts. Pictures make posts so much more fun ...but, for now you just get boring me.  Me, and my sappy "Pure.Joys."

*Love my friends. Love my family.  So many have rallied support for our little tree endeavour, and I feel so much gratitude and love. Packages of books have already been set...ALREADY! I contacted Abby's Cheerleading team in an effort to get her peers involved with the project she created.  They are not only getting involved, but involving the entire studio. We are beyond thrilled. Man, people are just good.

*I got a new car.  In order to get this new car, we really had to have a few things land in our favor. The people we bought it from went above and beyond, on a personal level, to make sure it happened.  They actually went so far as to take some loan officers from a bank to lunch which resulted in an interest rate drop of over 2% for our loan.  It was amazing.  I have loved my last car, but when you can't open your driver's side door without opening the window first, have to pray and gently guide the key in the ignition so it doesn't get stuck forever there, cautiously use your brakes because when you do the entire cars feels like it has been hit with a 6.0 earthquake....It is time to let it go.

So, we did...and I am in new car heaven.

*Abby did her homework by herself last night.  WITHOUT drama.  In fact, I would say homework has been drama free for the past two weeks. I know, I know, big deal right? Whatever. I know you moms of kids in elementary school feel me on this.

*We paid off our first credit card in its' entirety this week. We have been working for the past month or so to pay off all our medical BS, and now...we can begin the good stuff. It felt so freaking good... WAY better than the momentary rush I feel when buying a cardigan (but, man...I do love buying those).  I may actually begin to hate Dave Ramsey and his money makeover nonsense a little less now.:)

*I heart Modern Family. I could sit all day long, eat bon-bons and watch re-runs.  I've never laughed out loud at a show like I do that one.  Abby would watch it with me too...it is the inspiration behind her quest to marry a Chinese man, or adopt a baby girl from China and name her Lily.

*Leg rubs rock.  I have actually been feeling really well lately, which is obviously a very good thing.  Occasionally though...I push that good thing a little too far, and the reality of the big lesion in my brain hits me like a mac truck. I've overdone it a bit this week...not really doing anything special, just doing all we working moms do on a daily basis. A couple of nights ago, my leg said, "You need to knock it the hell off and lay down."  I didn't listen. Well, I actually did...but, not until like 9:30. In fact, that was probably the first time I had really sat down that day. My leg hurt. It hurt like those stupid growing pain-dull ache-kind of hurts. I cried, maybe not so much because of the pain, because it was bearable, but because I really was quite enjoying my lovely denial land. I also cried because I needed attention, because honestly, that's pretty much the main reason why any of us cry. 

Blair noticed. He even rubbed the nasty cramping for a while. My leg and heart felt lots better after those few minutes of attention.

*Deak's hugs; they can squeeze me and fill me up for hours. Really...they should almost be illegal.

So, there it is...Pure.Joys. Week #2/3. 

I promise, pictures next time.

A Tree.

We, as do many others, have a tradition of attending the Festival of Trees every Christmas Season. 

We did not know how deeply it's meaning would affect our family until we met our Deak.

This Christmas Festival allows people an opportunity to decorate a tree, wreath, gingerbread house, etc.  These items are then donated and auctioned off; the proceeds benefiting Primary Children's Hospital in Salt Lake City.

Abby performed at the festival with a little singing group the first year Deak came into our lives.  I remember feeling so overwhelmed, looking at each tree and reading each story of the children who had been honored. Many of these children had not survived.

After touring three or so aisles, the tears just fell.  I felt so overwhelmingly grateful for the opportunity I had been given to have Deakon in my life. I did not, and still do not, feel I had done enough to deserve the miracles that had happened which allowed Deakon to survive and be a part of my world.  Even as I type this, the gratitude I felt in that moment is being re-lived and is very difficult to describe.

The following year, Abby was five and in Kindergarten .  We went to the Festival of Trees with our little family, and Abby had invited a friend to come along.  I noticed Abby paying very close attention to any tree which had a picture of a child in front of it...she would linger and began asking questions. 

"Mom, is this one like Deak?"

"Mom, what happened to this baby?"

She recognized the oxygen tubes and distinctive differences and very respectfully understood that we had a connection with all of these beautiful babies.

Sometime after that experience, Abby began begging.

BEGGING to decorate a tree in honor of her brother.

She wants to honor her brother.

...still be my heart....

Last year, Abby came up with a theme for this tree.  She decided we would call it "Goodnight Moon" after Deakon's favorite story.

So.Perfect.

So....we are doing it.

We are honoring Abby's brother, and her love for him.

All proceeds/donations to this tree will be directed to Primary Children's Medical Center.

The very first hospital that gave me hope.

The very hospital that saved his life.

Those of you who are familiar with this festival, understand the awesome undertaking we are about to dig ourselves into.  I feel very inept, but will attempt to do justice to Abby's creativity.

We are sticking with a silver/blue theme with moon and star shaped ornaments.  We are going to place children's books around the base of the tree, along with Deak's favorite Yo Gabba Gabba characters. 

Any donations, suggestions, help, etc...would be awesome if you can.  If not, a little extra love can't hurt:)

I'm feeling pretty lucky that I get to be a part of something so meaningful to my littles' lives.