Be Still My Heart

My mom arrived last week in order to join our fam for a 3 day trip to a Wyoming Dude Ranch.  I've been looking forward to getting the heck outta town for weeks, but I had no idea how much we would all fall in love with life on the ranch.  We've been home for over a week and I'm still gloomy about the fact that we couldn't ditch suburbia and stay there.  Forever.  What made us fall so deeply for this 300,000 acre sanctuary of bliss?

 The above photos are from a cattle ranch 20 minutes outside the dude ranch.  The kids were picking up cow pies (knowingly) and chucking them in the stream.  And then subsequently licking their hands.  I threw my intuitions out the window at that point.  Everything was fair game.  Poop and all.  

 This is to warn you of the airstrip you're above to drive over.    

 Our home away from home.  Directly over a rushing river.  Come on.  

Below are countless (I apologize) images of the highlight of the weekend for my dear son.  This child is afraid of rolypolys but fell head over heels in love and adoration with the 120 horses on the property.  He would talk to them, pet them, feed them, brush them, giggle at them....I've never seen him so immediately drawn to a creature with no qualms or fears.  We were blessed with a 2 hour period of time with Miss Lynne (his cowgirl).  She gave him a one-on-one with the horses and allowed him a chance to learn how to ride and lead horses around the pen.  He was over the moon and did so well.  So, forgive on onslaught of photos.  It was a rather special weekend for the Dude.  

 These front 2 white horses would not leave each other's side.  Dude rode one of them and the other needed to be tied up to watch.  It was darling. 

He loved him his cowgirl.  At first he referred to her as "his farmer."  We educated him at that point.

 

 

Home, home on the range.  Where the deer, the antelope, my children, the horses and the chicken play.  Where seldom is heard a discouraging word or a whine or a screaming cry.  And the skies are not cloudy all day.  And people make us food.  And clean the dishes.

A big part of me feels like God intended life to be like what we experienced here.  I have a better understanding of the passion so many people feel for a rural way of life.  No TV.  No Internet.  No cell service.  No skyscrapers.  No pollution.  No video games.  No Walmart.  No traffic.  Everything there was as it's meant to be.  Free and endless entertainment for kids -the young ones and the adult ones. Natural, relaxed and unbelievably beautiful.   Of course it's not for everyone, but I felt so incredibly at peace and happy there.  I couldn't run errands or get on Facebook, so I didn't.  I long to go back and wonder if some day we might just find a plot of land in Sedalia or Evergreen by a stream and call it a day.  Weirder things have happened.    

  

Baseball - Kinda

We signed Dude up for T-ball last summer with our bud Brady, but were quite disappointed with the lack of coaching, learning or playing of baseball for that matter.  It was totally appropriate that our son would lay in the outfield counting blades of grass or run from first base to third.  Those type of actions were kinda the norm.  This year we decided to get serious.  We registered the boys for a more expensive, more "get down to it" league and Wes and Tim signed up as the coaches.  This is good.  Accept for the fact that talking to rolly pollies in the infield, standing still on first base to force an out so he can go get a drink and running in circles around first base so he can't get tagged "out" become faux pas rather than average and cute behavior.

I decided not to do this blog at the beginning of the season in hopes that there would be improvement.  And I'm happy to report that there has been.  He's hitting the ball (it's coach pitch), running when he's supposed to (75% of the time), paying attention about 60% of the time in the outfield, cheering for team mates and wearing the catchers gear with pride.  Strides are being made.  Uncle Wes has been an awesome and very very patient head coach.  He has come to understand that if dude is in the field, there's no getting around the fact that he'll attempt conversations about thunderstorms and the structure of his jaw bone.  After all, it is Dude we're talking about.  And these are all reasons we love him.

 There's always boogs to be picked, right?  

 Now, THAT is our Dude.

This is our very first at bat.  He ended up with a great hit off the tee.  It just took some time.  At bats have improved too.

 Bradster sports some awesome sporty glasses on the field. 

Tim does a whole lot of this.

Is baseball going to be a career aspiration for our little man?  It's kinda like asking if pigs are going to start flying out of my left nostril.  No, no they're not.  But that's just fine.  Dude has tons of talents that we're encouraging him to utilize.  For now we're happy with teaching team work, perseverance and not wrestling our team mates to get our hands on the ball.

Angry Locks

Many of you have already been stunned and perhaps startled by the angry bird on the back of my son's toe head.  I'm still startled every time he turns around and I've been looking at him for the past week.  For the past 6 months, our angry bird obsessed son has been begging to get an angry bird carved into his scalp by our uber talented hair stylist, Brandon.  Brandon is the man.  He's constantly booked and does a lot of "hair designs."  I don't imagine many of his clients are blond haired, blue eyed, 6 year old boys, but who's keeping track.

I have been very adamant in my "NOs" over the course of his begging, but something must have been in the water last weekend that caused me to shrug my shoulders and say "Whatever.  Let's do this thing."  And so we made an appointment and did it.  And he thought he was the king shit.  Sorry, no other accurate way to put it.  I came across as a super cool, relaxed mom as he sat in the barber chair, but the second I watched the eyebrows being trimmed out, I cringed (outloud I'm afraid) and swore this would be the first and last time for hair art.  And, despite the constant adoration he receives from the general public,  I'm holding to that.  One more week until the bird (or some might refer to it as a pumpkin) will be disguised by his growing locks.  Or so we hope.

We're just grateful that this event came at a time when he was crazed with Angry Birds and not Rapunzel.  

 Before.

 Obviously after.

He's still so darling.  From the front.

Our Light

Tim and I have learned a few things about faith this past year.  Life hasn't been as we planned it to be.  Highs and lows have brought us to the place we are now.  Fortunately, God has landed us at a rather amazing place and has issued reminders of his grace throughout our process.  I wasn't going to blog about all of this.  We've kept a lot of it private, but I would be remiss not to give virtual credit to a God who has knocked our socks off.  And it's my hope that others can read this and find hope and strength through our experience.

At this time last year we were making the decision to send Dude to a local christian school and we were all getting really excited about becoming a part of that family.  We figured our quirky little man would be the monkey of the classroom and his social being would bring joy wherever he went. His teacher would see his creative brain at work and would marvel at his level of understanding and intelligence.  Okay, maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but you get the picture.  He started out his Kindergarten year with gusto.  We were so pleased with everything that came with his experience as a student.

About a month into his year, his teacher started pointing out areas of concern.  Lack of focus, inability to finish work, not wanting to be touched, nervousness in loud or new situations, blurting out whatever is on his mind.....we started to feel bombarded with week after week of negative meetings.  We were completely caught off guard.  These areas of concern weren't foreign to us, but they were never bad enough that we were concerned.  School seemed to heighten them.  After a rather gut wrenching time of conferences and feeling incredibly discouraged and helpless, we were asked to fill out a sensory integration disorder profile.  A what?  We had no clue what this language meant.  It wasn't until we started filling it out that it all became clear.

"Does your child tire easily?  Does your child have a hard time carrying heavy objects?  Does your child have a difficult time with more than 1 step directions?  Does your child have trouble touching items with textures or messy foods?  Does your child have a keen sense of hearing?  Does your child flinch when touched unexpectedly?  Does your child get easily distracted?  Does your child express discomfort when having nails clipped, hair washed and teeth brushed?"  Um....yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes and yes.  Tim and I looked at each other in awe.  We could see the light bulbs going off in each other's heads.

At the end of 3 months of drama of testing, praying, filling out paperwork, endless meetings and research, our little man was diagnosed with Sensory Integration Disorder and ADD.  He tested off the charts in 3 of the 5 areas of sensory integration.  It became clear that our school was not going to offer the resources to help our little man conquer his struggles.  They don't have funding for occupational therapists or aids and it was clear that his teacher didn't know what to do with him.  He could feel that tension.  And that broke our hearts.

We toured our local public school and discovered that they're all geared up for kiddos with sensory issues. It's old hat for them.  No bigee.  We walked in to the meeting with the principal thinking we might consider transferring him the following fall and by the time we finished the tour, we were in discussions of transferring him the following week.  And that we did.  Was it easy?  Absolutely not.  We were freaked out to put it mildly.  But it was what God was calling us to do.  Dude confirmed that when he jumped off the couch after being told that he was going to a new school and said, "Thank you Mom and Dad!  This is the best day of my whole life!"

We struggled with the idea that God could be calling us to remove our child from Christian education, but a number of events took place that have solidified that decision in our minds and our hearts.  God placed people in our lives in remarkable ways.

*One family we randomly had over for dinner has a son with Sensory issues.  They were pulling out of our school and enrolling in their local public school.  This family has started sending their son to the same occupational therapy clinic that we had just interviewed.  They were able to confirm how wonderful the clinic is and the amazing results they were seeing.
*Our new principal who helped guide us on our journey is a faithful Christian and the wife of a pastor.  She recommended our clinic, double confirming its credibility.  She has been a blessing and an advocate to us in so many ways.
*A dear friend who lives on our street and has a depth of knowledge about sensory issues ended up being his teacher's aide.  She was with him, literally holding his hand, through his transition.  Talk about blessings.  She was a visible angel to Dude and to us.  She was what we needed to feel peace with our decision.
*His new teacher met him where he was at and never once had a negative word to say.  He fit in immediately and had a fabulous remainder of the year.  Did he have attention issues and sensitivity to sensory situations?  Of course he did.  But it wasn't a big deal.  And he felt comfortable, rather than alienated.
*Someone close to our kids, who spends a significant amount of time with them, explained to us that she had sensory integration struggles growing up and did the same therapy we have Dude in.  She told us that she always felt a special bond with him and was so touched to find out why.  That one brought me to my knees.

One year ago we had never heard of Sensory Integration Disorder.  We wouldn't have dreamt that Dude would be attending our public school.  We couldn't have imagined spending the amount of money and time we are for occupational therapy.  But today, we're a wealth of knowledge of SID and have met a ridiculous amount of people who have experience with it.  We're loving our local public school.  And we're happy to be spending the time and money helping our Dude cope with what we thought were "quirks."  After a year of therapy, he should be in a place where he can function worlds better in a classroom setting and to the overload of the world around him.

It can be an overwhelming world for little man.  As his parents, we'll go to any length to reduce the chaos he feels and settle his little brain and sensory system down.  God is good people.  In the midst of what you think is going to be a hopeless situation, the brightest light can become visible.  Dude is our light and we're so grateful that we're finally able to have a clear understanding of what life is like through his eyes.

       

If you'd like information about what Sensory Integration Disorder entails, click HERE.