I Have This Dream...

Following our less than exuberant parent teacher conference this week, my mind started racing and this dream found its way into my thoughts.  It lifted me out of my funk and made my heart feel calm and complete. Here it goes...

Tim and I will buy a house on acreage nearby (there are places near us you can do so).  Usable acreage, not scratchy Colorado grass that requires long pants and cowboy boots acreage.  The house will be big enough to fit our family of four humans and one canine, but it won't have to huge because we'll live on our land.  We'll camp on our land, build fires on our land, explore our land, build tree houses on our land, catch minnows in the stream on our land, grow food on our land, raise chickens on our land, let the dog run free on our land, and star gaze on our land.

On said land will be two barns.  Old barns.  Kick ass barns you pull over to take your family photos in front of.  One barn will be transformed into a school.  My school.  I'll utilize the talents of our Aunt Katy in Seattle to make it amazingly awesome.  It'll be simple, non-distracting and perfect.  It'll have a loft for art and messes and the spilled paint on the barn wood floors will act as priceless interior design.  It will be a calm space, free of primary colors covering every available inch, free of bells and loud speaker announcements and unavoidable chaos.  There will be quiet spaces for decompression.

My soon-to-be retired mom will be the volunteer principal of learning, my dad the PE & Colorado History coordinator, and me the head master.  Two of my besties, Maria and Anne, will teach because that's their gift.  They teach and understand.  If I can pull Cara away from Araphoe, she'll be a part of my team too. My parents will have a cute little cabin on our property and they'll spend the school year with us.  Dude will be our first student.  We'll have small classes - 2 kids per teacher or aid - all out of the box learners.  Maybe they'll squeak, maybe they'll be quiet, maybe they'll need to run, maybe they'll need one on one attention...they'll be allowed to run and squeak and be quiet and they'll get one on one attention. These kids will graduate each grade level with no fear of drowning in the public school system or being left out and under-served in the private system.  Their individual learning styles will be met because there will be time and space to do so.

Our school will have Lego Mechanics class, Gardening, Cooking, Engineering, Art, Music, social skills classes, horse back riding,....they'll learn math using sticks and acorns and chicken eggs.  They'll cook what they grow in the industrial kitchen Katy will design.  They'll write stories about their real world adventures and turn them into pieces of art that will hang on the entry walls.  Real world, hands on field trips will be a regular occurrence. They'll write letters to kids in other countries and learn about other cultures. They'll study history at local museums and go to plays and concerts of all types.  They'll build robots and learn how a computer works rather than how to master video games.  They'll visit local non-profits to gain understanding about the importance of philanthropy.  They'll collect allowance money to donate to those non-profits and be encouraged to believe that little people are capable of doing really big things.  They'll learn about government and have debates about issues facing kids around the world.  They'll write letters to their government officials and learn how important their voices are. They'll study the Bible and connect its message of hope and unconditional love and acceptance through every subject they dissect.  They'll play Chess and Risk and Red Rover. They'll go go karting, do yoga, and learn how to put a golf club for gym class.  They'll learn how to be a Christ-like organ in the world in which we live and they'll be taught how to see grace through the inevitable darkness surrounding them.

Families who can't afford the $15K tuition at current special ed catered schools will come for half that ridiculous price and receive financial aid if need be.  Because kids who have special needs and brilliant minds deserve to learn according to how the Lord created them, without alienation or feeling less than. We'll be governed by a board of directors from all spheres of education advocacy, local government, and business and church leaders.  Sir Ken Robinson (look him up) will be on our board. I'll make enough to cover my time and the rest of my payment will come in the piece of mind I'll have, knowing I cracked the education mold and created a new normal.  I'll create a model that can be replicated.  I'll write a book about it and speak and advocate for other kids when I no longer need to advocate so fiercely for my own.  

In barn #2, Tim will start his own business, his life's dream.  It'll be related to cars somehow and he'll employ those hard to employ and show them grace.  He'll be the call they make from prison and he'll give them a second chance.  He'll walk across our lawn each morning, fulfilled and eager to take on his day.  He won't be sitting at a computer and if he's crunching numbers it'll be to calculate how large a bonus he can afford to offer his employees.  He'll demand hard work and ethical work practices and he'll earn the respect and trust of everyone who crosses his path.  That's my husband and I know this dream will come to fruition.  Some day.

This is my fantasy.  This is what causes me to close my eyes and look up, begging God to agree with me.  I did dream it and it's now spoken here for all of you to bear witness to.  I don't tend to let my dreams go down the pipes.  I'm just sayin'.        

Wrapping Up Soccer Season #1

We sign up for these organized athletic activities to get a sense of where our children's gift lie.  Or don't.  Squirt's very first soccer season came to a close last week and below is a recap on our successes.

Did she run a lot?  Check.
Did she walk a lot?  Check
Did she eat/demand many snacks and drink lots of water/juice boxes?  Check
Did she laugh?  Check
Did she whine and lay on the ground, face first?  Check
Did she enjoy hanging out with the kids and her super patient, fun coach?  Check
Did she take breaks by laying in the goal?  Check
Did she kick her ball around during practice time?  Check.
Did she kick the ball during games?  No sir.
Did she at least chase the ball and the herd of children found near the ball?  Check.
Did she step aside when the ball would hit her in the legs, politely allowing other children to kick it? Check.
Did she run through the end of game parent tunnel with pride?  Check.
Did she cheer when we told her soccer was over?  Check, check, and double check.

There you have it friends.  Next up?

This is video proof that she DID kick the ball once this season.  Granted, she was instructed to and given free reign over the round sphere, but she kicked it vengeance!  Note the darling shrug she gives me when I encourage her to get the ball.

Anders and Squirt spend every Wednesday and Friday together with our new daycare routine.  They're becoming quite the little team.  On and off the soccer field.

Thursday Snippits of God

I've been making a concentrated effort to look for what I call, "Snippets of God" throughout my days. I'm finding it more difficult to see evidence of overwhelming good in the world lately, so this practice keeps me in check with all the things we don't hear and see when we flip on the news, check yahoo headlines, tune into talk radio or frequent social media sites.  The good is getting lost and that wears on me on so many levels.  

SO...here are Snippets of God that rang true yesterday.  Nature, the mind boggling color change in leaves (seriously, how could THAT happen by chance), a happy 7 year old boy loving the world around him, a 3 year old giggling (to the point of snorts) with nothing but leaves to play with, a puppy finally acting himself and devouring the sand, dirt and leaves around him.  God was in those things today.  Tomorrow might look very different, but maybe that's the beauty of the unpredictable world we live in.  Goodness pops up when we least expect it.  We just have to open our eyes to see it. 

  

Living with Tourettes

6 months back, a friend asked Tim and me if we thought Dude might have Tourettes Syndrome.  I reacted like someone had just stabbed me in the gut.  What an extreme evaluation of my kid.  He didn't have THAT.  Only people who scream and swear have Tourettes.  He just had minor ticks.  I changed the subject and tried not to act offended.  We were offended.  And incredibly defensive internally.  

Today, I'm sitting here googling videos on kids with Tourettes because our little man has Tourettes. There, I said it.  After an evolution of research and therapy and appointments with the best of the best, it's clear.  Not a day goes by without a tick surfacing and many have become complex ticks, meaning more than one in sequence.  We consulted with a Neuro doc at Childrens and she confirmed that while his case is minor, it is Tourettes.  It didn't phase her and she explained that if he can live a happy existence and have ticks, who cares?  She didn't say those exact words, but that was the basic concept.  Of course it bothers us as his parents.  It's often painful and frustrating and exhausting, for US.  But what about for him?  He doesn't really care.  He doesn't know any different. Ticks to him are like sneezing or coughing to us.  He has to do it.  His brain insists on it.  It makes him feel good or maybe better. That's what he would tell you.  

Tourettes isn't always the extreme cases of people walking around dropping the "F bomb" like it's their job. There are cases like that, but those are extreme.  I can't imagine being held captive to that kind of internal struggle.  Cases like Dudes happen to 1 in 1,000 kids, mostly boys.  You might notice, you might not. Depends on the day in our case.  A lot of people think Dude has itchy eyes. Nope, just blinks a lot.  Others think he's trying to act like a mouse.  Nope, he squeaks.  Some comment on how uncomfortable his shirt must be on him.  Nope, that's just his shoulders shrugging. And then there's the times people think he's looking up toward heaven.  Nope, that's the seizure ticks, or so we think.  He snaps out of it after a few seconds, but he'll have no memory of what just happened.    

We've reached the point in time that it's important to be honest with our Dude.  He's old enough that he should understand why we drag him from doctor to doctor.  He should feel proud of his gifts and the way God created him.  He should feel encouraged and motivated to strengthen the parts that need strengthening.  He knows that he's going to Brain Balance Centers 3 days per week so that the right side of his brain can get the superpowers his left side was born with.  He knows that the 1.5 hours of home therapy, 4 days per week, is for that purpose.  He also knows it's up to him to work hard to get the very best powers.  He's very clear that he has Tourettes and that it's ok.  It's not big deal.  But he's also becoming keenly aware that kids around him and adults alike think it's weird and annoying and disruptive.  And he knows there's no one else "like him" at school.  I hate that.  I won't allow him to feel alienated for something he has no control over.  And I won't allow him to believe that he's annoying or "less" because of his struggles.

Brain Balance has been a blessing in our first 3 weeks.  Challenging, all consuming, overwhelming, expensive and enough to put the rest of life on hold?  Yes.  Have we seen the digression they told us to expect?  You bet we have.  But when I sit in that waiting room and talk to other parents about what they're walking through, it eliminates the feeling of isolation that's so easy to get drawn into.  Their eyes say the same thing my eyes do.  Their deep breaths understand my deep breaths.  Their frustrations and exasperation over school related struggles are in line with mine.  It's refreshing to say the least.  You know who else relates to each other there?  The kids.  My kid.  

Last week we started a new time slot and Dude was given a new "buddy."  Upon seeing who his new bud was, I smiled internally because I knew this 10 year old boy has Tourettes.  I saw his mom clinging to the words of the director that the increase in ticks means the process is working.  I saw the hope and the resignation in her eyes.  I saw her son, Ian, exhibiting similar ticks to my sons.  It made me smile.  I spent the hour talking to Ian's mom while our boys were in therapy together.  I told her that Dude has Tourettes too.  You would have thought I told her she had just won unlimited wine for life.  The news was that good.  I understood.  We related to so much of what each other has walked through and I know it felt just as terrific to her as it did to me.  

When Dude came running, full force, down the hall toward me at the end of his session, he whispered (loudly), "My new buddy makes noises too Mom!"  Both moms smiled, genuine smiles.  Ian whispered something to his mom and she said, "Didn't you notice he had ticks too?"  He replied, "Oh.  I thought he was just copying me."  That broke my Mama heart on so many levels.  For Ian and for the 10 year old version of my son.  Rather than grab Ian's cheeks and tell him how awesome he is I chose to tell him how cool it is to meet other kids with Tourettes.  He told me there's only one other kid at his school with ticks and Dude announced he's the only one at our school.  The only one. That's just not a place anyone wishes to be in.  

Now we have to navigate a way for our little man to turn this into a teaching tool for other kids.  This video spoke to me quite loudly.  If nothing else, it's evidence to our little man that he's not alone in the world.  The more we can prove that to him, the less alienated he'll feel as he matures.  At least that's the hope.         

Jazzy Nails & Back Yard Construction

It had been, oh I don't know, 3 months since I hosted a ladies party.  At that point I start physically itching to organize something.  So I did.  A couple weeks ago, a bunch of lovely ladies and their mini me's (in most cases) filled my patio and kitchen to learn about Jamberry Nails.  I heard about this company from my friend, Erin, in Indiana and was intrigued.  She sells them like hotcakes for your hands.  A Jamberry rep referred through a friend came and did sample nails on all of us and 99% of the woman who came were lured into purchasing some fun decor for their hands.  Verdict is still out on the overall opinion of the product, but the party was fun regardless.

A Saturday project was needed last weekend, so Dude and I dreamed up a construction concept for the backyard.  Big Tool Box provided the PVC piping, Daddy's childhood provided the matchbox cars and the side of the house provided the wood and dirt.  We were off and running.  The final product is below.  I must admit, it turned out rather darling.
 

Pipes were cut and buried under dirt and wood chips on a downhill slant.

Rocks leftover from our front yard landscape were added to the hills for the mountain affect.  You can see the end and beginning of the two tubes on either side of the construction vehicle.

Once the cars make it down the two pipes, the drive up ramps to the parking garage.  Beware, hot lava lies below, which is why we provided 3 wooden rafts for safety devices.

Figurines from our basement "box of plastic things" were added as lifeguards, monsters, protectors etc.

Squirt was thrilled with the new play space and spent a good hour creating traffic jams.

A Saturday Experiment

Below is an example of an average Saturday at Casa Vogel.  If Dude wakes up with an experiment idea, it must come to be, in some shape or form.  This particular experiment went a little something like this....

"Mom, I need to make a magic potion that makes Enzo listen to me.  We will put it in his brain through helmet powers."  I had to give myself a minute to consider the viability of this request, but he convinced me that it could be done.  So we went to work.  Enzo was oblivious to his role in this activity.

 We mixed water, green food coloring, sugar and coconut.

 Magic dust (flaxseed) came next.  This would also allow Enzo to poop.

 Our potion sat under the light, because light was required to make it magic, for 10 minutes.

 The potion was poured into a bag and we cut a hole in the corner in order to shower Dude's bike helmet with the magic.  Do you see the look of pure anticipation on his face?  Enzo began expressing his interest at this point, which only added to the excitement of it all.

 Now that the helmet was given magic powers, it was time for Enzo to be gifted with the power to listen to his young master.  He managed to keep said helmet on for about 30 seconds....

...which was just enough to make Enzo follow young master when he ran around the yard.  That was sufficient evidence that the potion worked.  Our little man is easy to convince and easy to please.  It was helpful that Enzo pooped at that point too, meaning the flax seed did its job.

Dude's creative left brain requires extra time and effort on the part of his parents, but the joy that comes from the time spent is worth going that extra mile.  Without a doubt.

Where did our Teddy Bear go?

This morning we played with our darling little Teddy Bear, his hair about 5 inches long.  Yesterday, our groomer told us he was too matted to trim and that she would have to shave him.  Like heck I would allow her to do such a ghastly thing to my precious Enzo.  I shrugged off her exaggeration of the hair situation, bought a "rake" to de-mat our little teddy bear and Tim and I spent 2 hours raking through his hair to get the matting loose near his skin.  He thought it was a game and had a jolly time biting at the rake.  This morning I proudly walked him into the PetCo by my office for his 2nd opinion grooming appointment.  I wasn't going to back the hall of shame, so this place knew nothing of our flaws.

The Petco lady took one look at him and said, "Oh boy.  We've got some heavy matting going on here."  I clearly explained that we had taken care of that last night with the rake tool, which I presented to her with confidence.  She showed me a number of places where she couldn't get her massive comb through and said it wouldn't be fair to him to put him through that much pain and the only way to remedy the situation would be to shave him.  I clarified, "So, you can leave like an inch right?"  "No maam.  He'll be shaved much shorter than that.  You'll need to stick with a 6 week schedule for grooming if you want to keep his coat this long and I would suggest a different collar and daily brushing."  I gazed at my Teddy Bear for a longer than normal amount of time, put my hypothetical tail between my legs, apologized to Enzo telepathically and went back to work.  Shame. Dog owner shame.

This is what I saw when I walked in to pick up my fuzzy buddy.  I might have screamed out loud.  If it wasn't for his big eyes, I wouldn't have been convinced he was mine.  The lady immediately said, "It'll grow back!  We think he looks cute."

Dude came home from school and took one step back from the door, thinking we had a strange dog in our house.  He giggled for 30 minutes and said his brain kept telling him that Enzo was wet.  Reagan acted scared and had no idea who he was, Tim just pouted when Enzo jumped up on him but of course doused him with fatherly love and I have spent the night covering him with our warmest blankets.  He is so cold.  And tiny.  And really humiliated I suspect.  In fact, he was just downstairs barking at himself in the glass door.  Of course he doesn't know who that strange dog staring at him is.  He's a quarter of the dog he used to be.

Bad dog parents.  Bad.  Sorry buddy.  It won't happen again.