Ensuring a Good Fit

 

Somehow, and I’m not exactly sure how we have gotten “here”, Tate is finishing up fifth grade, and we are prepping for middle school. Sixth grade. We are trying to determine how to make middle school successful for him.

We had our IEP meeting. We discussed his strengths. We discussed the challenges he faces. We agreed that his placement is the best option at this point in our district. While I understand the placement, I’d be remiss if I didn’t state that I worry that he won’t be challenged academically. He is more intelligent than those standardized tests indicate, that’s for sure. When he gets bored his “maladaptive” behaviors begin…he’s good about communicating non-verbally when the situation isn’t right. I will be monitoring the situation very closely next year, not hesitating to call meetings as needed to keep him on track.

Currently I’m frustrated that it took 6 months for the district to allow our BCBA to come observe the classroom and give some feedback as to what might help Tate. It is also exasperating that no one truly seems to understand that autistics have sensory needs that need to be anticipated and intervention needs to happen prior to a meltdown, not as a reactionary solution after the behavior occurs.

The hard truth is that there really isn’t any program in our district that is a great fit for Tate. We know that the general education setting, even with a 1:1 aide would be too difficult. The instructional program pulls back on adult support, and Tate requires many adult prompts to stay on task and to function in the classroom. Hence, he will be in a restrictive classroom of kids in grades 6-8 who require significant adult intervention. It also has a life-skills slant to it.

I visited the classroom where he’ll be in the fall. The observation itself went smoothly. The teacher is vibrant. She’s respectful. She has fun with her students. Most importantly, she treated each student as a PERSON. Even in my brief observation, it was obvious that the students each bring their own set of learning issues to the classroom. She was able to differentiate her approach towards the students. I was keenly aware of the respect she showed her students. She wanted to be there with them.

Unlike a fitting room with a new pair of jeans, I can’t try each one on for size and comfort. This is somewhat like a stitch fix order. We are making an educated guess at the fit, and when it comes down to it, we hope it fits like a glove..or maybe will work with slight tailoring. Fingers crossed.

Upside to this is that nothing is ever permanent. We can always call another meeting…but in the meantime, I hope I’m not lopping off a huge chunk of length for him that causes Tate to be confined to something that won’t work well in the long run.

Ah, the challenge of parenthood….always wondering if the decision is the best one.

The Good Stuff

Last week Tate’s 5th grade class participated in their outdoor education field trip. It’s a 3-day, 2-night trip to a state park. While the students are there, they are learning teamwork, independence, resilience and accountability. I love that our district provides this opportunity for its students at this age. 10/11 year olds are so much more capable of this type of work than we give them credit for.

I was incredibly uneasy about how Tate would handle the rigors of the trip. The teachers do a phenomenal job preparing the students for the trip. They discuss manners, practice family-style lunch, view videos and learn about the schedules of their day. The trip is highly structured, but it is also in a foreign environment, has “outside” instructors, and they are out in the elements. We talked about the trip at home, too. I knew he was prepared, but yet, it was so NEW and DIFFERENT. Those two things, alone, can be a minefield for my kid.

After discussions with his team and other parents, Hubz and I decided that I’d go down to the area where the trip was taking place and stay with Tate overnight in a hotel. We cut his trip to 2 days and 1 night. He DID get to take the bus with his peers, and he participated in almost all of the activities each day he was there.

Tate handled the trip quite well. Yes, he had anxiety. Yes, he didn’t sleep for 3 nights prior to the trip. But, he did it. I’m grateful that the team allowed flexibility, because Tate did sleep quite well in the hotel, and I know if he had been in the group dorms, it would not have gone so well.

One of the activities that the students do is to do birdwatching. Tate is a natural. His keen eye and ability to see the thing that is out of place in a background lent itself well to this endeavor. In fact, he enjoyed it so much and did such a great job explaining the birds to his peers that his team decided to have him do birdwatching both days, and it was great! He also really enjoyed building a shelter out of branches, leaves and twigs. The heavy work was perfect OT for him.

Each day that I picked Tate up from the event, his teacher told me that he handled it well and reported a few struggles, but nothing out of the ordinary and nothing that couldn’t be redirected. Also, Tate LOVED doing the table prep and bussing (they called it hopping). He was a pro, and even did a phenomenal job rinsing dishes in the kitchen.

To some, that might not seem like a big deal, but to anyone who has kids with differing abilities and neurodiversity, well, it was celebration time! If he can bus tables successfully at age 10, then what’s to say he can’t do that as an older teen? If he can follow “job” requirements and rules as a 5th grader, what’s to say he won’t be able to do that at age 18?

When we pulled out of the parking lot and headed home on his last day with his class, he thanked me for taking him. I thanked him for being a good sport. Then he told me to relax and turn the radio up. Adele was on and I was talking too much. My kiddo was brave. He was adventurous. He ate freaking turkey and mashed potatoes for dinner! The sky is the limit, my friends.

As we plod through the next few months of 5th grade and power through evaluations and testing, this experience gave me so much hope for what he’s going to be able to accomplish in middle school. He may not learn in a typical way, but he can and will learn. That much is for sure.

The Struggle is Real

In preparation for his transition to middle school, the team and we decided that Tate should have his triennial evaluation with the team that knows him, as well as in an environment that isn’t foreign to him. We opened his domain this week. Now we wait…and my anxiety is spiking.

I am a mess as I start to dig deep to prepare for this transition. Yes, I know Jake is doing just fine in his environment. (Although I still worry about the social aspects for him.) However, Tate is a different child, with different needs and the struggle is real.

My greatest worry is that our district really doesn’t have a place for him. Not that he really has ever clearly fit into the slot that is available to him….but even more so now that we are barreling towards middle school, his needs and the way our district structures things don’t seem to mesh.

First of all, we are a 2 middle school district. Our “home” school has an instructional class and resource. Tate will likely not fit into either of those classes. The other middle school, waaaayyyyy across town has an instructional class that is cross-categorical and provides the students with a more targeted, easily accessible curriculum. I’m not sure if they have a life-skill component…but that might be good for him. My struggle is that there is no available information on any programming for next year.

Tate is capable of learning and doing work that is modified to account for his autism. The issue is that he just is not quite able to attend and sit still and ignore peer behavior. It ALL affects him. He hears the buzzing of the flourescent lights and cannot focus. He sees his friend flipping a pencil and he becomes entranced by the rhythm. Peers, who find work difficult, know that Tate will react and get off topic with just the utterance of a word. So they say, “Fart”quietly to Tate, and Tate is off and running with a script, a giggle, and off topic talk.

I see the math that my older son is doing in his instructional math class in 7th grade. I know what he did as a 6th grader in that class. Tate is so far behind even that material. There are too many problems on a page for him, too. He requires a lot more individualized instruction. The 15 or so kids in Jake’s math class would be too much for Tate. He does better in a smaller class size.

His hormones are starting to rev up. Whereas his older brother is more delayed in the onset of puberty and such, Tate is right on schedule. He is girl crazy, and his body is definitely maturing on schedule. When a cute girl about his age acknowledges him, he  isn’t sure how to handle this, so he gets flustered and starts shouting his version of swear words. We are working on this in therapy, but it is slow coming. I worry that in a self-contained environment, we are just prolonging this process…but I also can’t see how he’s going to function well in a more fully-integrated environment, either.

I put a lot of value into public schools and their programming. In general, our district has done a lot of good for him. However, I have a nagging feeling that we should also be checking out some other options for next year. Outside placement, perhaps. If he’s in district, do they have sensory rooms somewhere for him?

I read about other children on the spectrum who are fully integrated in the classrooms. They are writing paragraphs, they are answering multi-step problems, they are able to stay on task without constant prompting. Maybe Tate isn’t designed for a traditional school setting, or even a more traditional instructional setting.

Being a parent is about always wondering what else can be done to get one’s child where he needs to be. *sigh* Tate does so well in a highly structured, one-to-one setting where he is task-based and can literally check off his tasks to earn his break/reward/etc. Traditional school is not set up that way.

The One Where I Voice an Opinion

I can’t go silently into the night. I cannot sit by as history is about to be made….and I fully intend to be on the right side of history, here.

If you have any desire to see public schools succeed and function over the next 4 years, I implore you to write and/or call  the HELP Committee, as well as to your state senators. Tell them that you do not support Betsy DeVos as the next Secretary of Education, and that you encourage him or her to vote NO when it is time to cast a vote for her appointment approval.

If you don’t do it for your children, do it for mine, and those like mine. Jake and Tate both rely on IDEA (Individuals with Disabilities Education Act) to receive a FREE and APPROPRIATE education. The IDEA holds public institutions accountable to provide interventions and accommodations and modifications so that my children can access the curriculum.

Ms. DeVos apparently has no idea that this is a FEDERAL law that needs to be enforced at the FEDERAL (NOT THE STATE) level.

Today I called and/or emailed every single member of the HELP Committee. Below is my script. It wasn’t easy. I was pushed way out of my comfort zone. BUT I did it. For them. My two amazing boys who work so damn hard every day to just get through the rigors of school.

“Hello, my name is Lisa and I’m a citizen of the state of ______. Two of my children depend on the IDEA to ensure that they have a Free and Appropriate Education. It is clear through watching the hearings for Mrs. DeVos that she is unaware of how IDEA should be enforced, as well as unaware of other issues that face our public schools and educators.

Please let Senator _________ know that I encourage him/her strongly to vote NO when it is time to approve Mrs. DeVos’s appointment to the role of Secretary of Education.

Thank you!”

Here is the list of the committee. Act now. Like Martin Luther King Junior said, “If I cannot do great things, I can do small things with greatness.”

Alexander, Lamar (TN),Chairman
Phone: (202) 224-4944
Enzi, Michael B. (WY)
Phone: (202) 224-3424
Burr, Richard (NC)
(202) 224-3154
Isakson, Johnny (GA)
(202) 224 – 3643
Paul, Rand (KY)
202-224-4343
Collins, Susan M. (ME)
(202) 224 – 2523
Cassidy, Bill (LA)
(202) 224-5824
Young, Todd (IN)
(202) 224 – 5623
Hatch, Orrin G. (UT)
(202) 224-5251
Roberts, Pat (KS)
202-224-4774
Murkowski, Lisa (AK)
(202)-224-6665
Scott, Tim (SC)
(202) 224-6121
Murray, Patty (WA), Ranking Member
(202) 224-2621
Sanders, Bernard (VT)
(202) 224-5141
Casey, Robert P. (PA)
(202) 224-6324
Franken, Al (MN)
(202) 224-5641
Bennet, Michael F. (CO)
202-224-5852
Whitehouse, Sheldon (RI)
(202) 224-2921
Baldwin, Tammy (WI)
(202) 224-5653
Murphy, Christopher (CT)
(202) 224-4041
Warren, Elizabeth (MA)
(202) 224-4543
Kaine, Tim (VA)
(202) 224-4024
Hassan, Margaret Wood (NH)
(202) 224-3324

Thirteen.

I am the parent of a teenager. A legitimate, literal teenager. Jake turned 13 today at 3:21 am. Our path to the teen years has been full of love, new experiences, firsts for me as a parent, and adventures. Some adventures have been exciting and invigorating. Others have caused us both discomfort, but we’ve grown along the way.

As Jake grows and starts having more of his own private experiences, I have to let go. It is bittersweet. I don’t want to see him hurt, or upset, or failing…but I know that it’s my job as a parent to let him experience all of those things…because that ultimately is how we grow and figure out what we want from life.

I want to shield him from the pain of rejection, the angst of failure, the hurt of loss. And yet, when I look at my life, my experiences, it was in those terribly uncomfortable moments that I grew. It wasn’t easy. It caused my anxiety to flare, and yet, with my mom guiding me ever so gently with some advice, perhaps some nagging, and lots of love, she let me work through it. Often, I had a much better idea of what I wanted and needed in life once I was on the other side of the experience.

I know that the teen years are going to be challenging for both of us, and likely, in varying ways. I promise to be his shepherd, his beacon, to help get him through the storm. I hope he understands that. My actions are always inspired by concern, love, and the knowledge that independence is our endgame.

Happy 13th Birthday, my Jakey-P. I love you.

An unsure first time mom with her bundle of joy. I feel as unsure as I look in this picture, as we embark on teendom.

The In-Between

The boys start school in 10 days. Another summer has blown past us. It has been an up and down summer, but a mostly enjoyable one. Soon, my boys will be in 7th, 5th and 2nd grade. Amazingly, when I started this blog, my oldest was a 2nd grader…and now, well, my baby is knocking on that door.

School supplies have been organized, and those that needed to be replaced are purchased. Folders are un-creased and crisp and shiny. Crayons still have a pristine tip. We have piles for each in the spare bedroom. Now, we wait.

The “In-Between” can be a bit anxiety producing, I am not going to lie. I am not sleeping great. The boys are each showing their anxiety in their own way. I won’t mire you down in the details, but let’s just say that the apples don’t fall far from the tree, here.

Each of them checks the master calendar daily. New items are being written in often. Jake is allowed to go walk his schedule any time from 9-3:30 on Thursday. Cole has a playdate for incoming 2nd graders another afternoon. Next week, the younger 2 have elementary school “Meet the Staff” day. As we tick off the list of supplies and have our last summer flings with friends, they get more and more aware that (said in a Ned Stark voice), “The School Year is coming.”

Summer isn’t always easy, with it’s relaxed schedules and routines, but in some ways, it is easier for me. No homework battles. No shuffling three children to and fro between various after school activities that range from soccer to religious education to therapists to scouts. And let’s not get into the freedom from IEP concerns.

Yes, we are firmly in the “In-between”, and right now, it’s a mix of emotion. Should I be bummed about the end of the summer? Should I be worried about the school year? Should I be writing summaries for the various teachers as they are new to my child(ren)? Did I remember to get all of the supplies? Did we do everything summer-related on our list? Did we do too much therapy this summer? Too little? Should we try to cram in another summer event?

So, I will sit here, and enjoy my coffee, and contemplate the “In-between”…for soon, we will be fully entrenched in another school year…

Tuesday Ramblings

Sometimes I’m just not sure what to write about. The boys are older, and they want to keep so much more to themselves. Or, well, I know how I would have felt at 12 to have my mom blabbering on about my antics and cute phrases and ways of problem solving. I would have rolled my eyes and been SO EMBARRASSED if she said too much. So, discussing Jake is difficult for me. I will say, 6th grade has turned out to be much better for him than I ever could have thought. I am relieved…and worried for what 7th grade will bring. But isn’t that always the way?

Tate is almost 10. TEN! Gaah! Again, when I was 10 there were things that would have made me flush with unease if my mom shared them. Granted, less would have bothered me at 10 than at 12, but it still would have been cringeworthy to hear her talk about some of the changes going on with my body, my brain, my relationships….I could go on. This year, I have heard from several of Tate’s support staff that he is much more engaged, much more talkative, much more….happy. Considering the roller coaster that 4th grade has been, I will take these little victories. This is a big transition year. No longer a *little* kid, not quite a *big* kid…just kind of stuck in limbo. The academic expectations are greater. Parents and teachers, alike, expect more maturity. Independence has been a buzzword all year. And for a kiddo who is not quite at the same developmental level as others, well, independence is hard, yo.

Cole is plowing through first grade. I can’t get over how mature his face has gotten this year. That baby face is gone. *sniff* It is also such a different experience with Cole. EVERYTHING is a different experience. He is much more typical than not. I often find myself asking teachers and other parents if this is “typical”. I don’t have much to compare Cole’s experiences to, as his brothers’ trajectories are just different. I’ve been assured that Cole is exactly where he is supposed to be. Of course, I will always be vigilant and watching out, but I find myself worrying less about development with him, and more about how he deals with peer pressures and wanting to be accepted and all of that jazz. (Honestly, that gives me more gray hair and worry lines than the other issues, at times…)

I am doing okay, too. The winter, while not anything like the past 2 years, wore on me. We all had the stomach flu this winter season. All five of us. That was horrid. I hope we don’t do that again…ever. Then came the colds. And strep. And colds. And sinus infections. Let’s just say that I will be so very, very happy to see spring-like temps and weather this week, and going forward. We need “Cold and Flu” season to bid us adieu…SOOO done!

Despite all of the battling of germs that we have done, I have been relatively consistent with my exercise. I get in about 35-40 minutes during each weekday. Weekends are a little more relaxed, but I still get in most of my 10,000 steps. With sports starting, I will likely get up and move more…walking the fields, lugging chairs and coolers and umbrellas and sunscreen.

I am hit or miss with my quest to lose weight. I want to be healthy and lean…but damn, cheese and french bread and cookies are soooooo good.  I am working on using moderation!! Ironically, I find myself using “if, then” in terms of my diet. “If I eat well 5 days during the week, THEN I can have a treat on Saturday…” HAH!

I am also trying to let go of things I cannot control. This is SOOO hard for me. I want to CONTROL ALL OF THE THINGS. This is a work in progress.

 

Semantics

This morning as I was chugging along on the treadmill, I decided to scroll through Facebook to entertain myself. The impending change in weather made it onto a few of my friends’ pages. (Mine, included.) There were posts about Lady Gaga, posts about Leonardo DiCaprio, posts about Chris Rock and the Girl Scout cookies, and posts about John Oliver discussing Trump. #MakeDonaldDrumpfAgain (That’s as political as I intend to get here.)

I noticed that a friend of mine had posted something on her page about autism and “gut” bacteria. I debated just letting it go, but I decided to read it. It was an almost two-year-old article about the link between autistic behaviors and “gut” issues. I read it. It’s information that has been churned out several times. I don’t disregard that many autistics have issues with their GI tracts and such. I have seen that. I’ve experienced that. But the headline of this particular article baited readers into thinking that “gut” imbalance CAUSES autism and a “simple” daily probiotic would make challenges disappear…. Pffffftttttt.

I did respond, saying that while there may be some correlation, autism is neurological in nature, and really is the way the brain works.  I noticed that someone had posted about the fact that “wouldn’t it be great to do a combination of behavior therapy and probiotic to help autism, which proves it isn’t caused by vaccines and is a “birth” defect.” I knew what the person probably meant, but, I took a little umbrage to the use of the word, “defect”.

Now, my son has challenges. He has deficits as compared with like-age peers in terms of comprehension, language, processing, etc…but “defective”? I can’t buy into that. When I looked up the word “defect” in the dictionary, it stated, “a shortcoming, fault, imperfection”. Aren’t we all a little defective, then? I mean, really.

I then looked up the word “disorder”. When applied in a medical sense, it was listed as, “a disruption of normal physical or mental function”. Well, we all know “normal” is just a setting on a dryer. Does my son follow neurological development of other children his age?! Hells no–so yeah, I guess disorder applies. Further down, I saw a definition of “disorder” as a verb listed as “disrupt the systematic functioning or neat arrangement of”. I chuckled at that definition, especially when I consider how routine-dependent my son can be. And have you seen the way he lines up his Paw Patrol guys?!

We also refer to autism as a disability. Sooo, I went to look up the word “disability”. Dictionary.com says, “A disadvantage or deficiency, especially a physical or mental impairment,that prevents or restricts normal achievement.” (emphasis is my own) My son approaches the world from a different angle than most. I wouldn’t say he’s wrong. Just, well, different. As long as he has success and happiness and support..well, I think the kid’s gonna be all right. I will concede that it may take him longer to arrive, but he’s going to get to the finish line. He will.

I guess what I’m getting at is, if that person says, “potato”, I say “potahtoh”. She says “defect”, I say, “Unique vision and approach to the world.” And let’s just leave it at that….

 

Something New

So last week I took a step out of my comfort zone and tried a cardio kickboxing class with a fellow mom from my boys’ school. It was a small group at a tae kwon do center, and I liked the work out. Everyone was friendly and no one said anything about my jiggly middle and offbeat moves. It took me a couple of weeks to get comfortable with the idea, but I’m glad I made the change.

Today I returned for another class. This week was a little more intense, but I enjoyed it again. It’s good to step out and try new things. I need to remind myself to do that more often.

I often talk about my boys and their rigidity, but I am a creature of habit, myself. I like sticking to what I know versus trying or attempting something that I may not be familiar with. Know that feeling?

I know I drive my husband crazy with my hemming and hawing…and my resistance to change. Case in point??? Our dryer decided to bid us adieu this past weekend. I opened it so that I could leave the house and the motor decided to not work so much anymore. Waaah! I know it’s a 12 year old more basic model dryer, but still….couldn’t it hold on a while longer?!

We started to look at new appliances. Hubz isn’t sure that he can fix the problem sufficiently. In our search, we noticed that all of the fancy washer and dryers that we prefer won’t fit in our laundry space. See,  our house has a small laundry room off of the garage entry. It *should* have been made bigger and been a dual purpose mudroom/laundry room, but that isn’t the way it was set up. The house was built in 1988. Appliances were smaller back then. Soo0…that means we will have to move our laundry area to the basement if we want the cool see-through top loader and dryer–which we DO want because (a) it has larger capacity, (b) it’s more efficient and (c) Tate absolutely LOVES washers and dryers. We’ll have to get someone in to do the electric and water and gas hook ups. Hubz wants to put in a utility sink. BUT this means I have to go up and down TWO LEVELS to do our laundry. I know me. I know our kids. I’m afraid that our laundry will end up lying around in the basement getting musty and stinky.

I also am overwhelmed at the idea of having to convert the laundry area into a mud room. It should be easy enough, but it is full of stuff. We have way too much stuff around here. Most of the items in that laundry room should probably be donated or thrown out. And it definitely needs to be painted. And do we put in a bench or just a couple of chairs? Do we install a few cabinets or do shelving? What color should we paint it? While we are in there, should we clean out the mini-closet that is full of MORE STUFF?! (Yes, yes we should.)

But it’s all change. It’s all different. It’s all going to change our routine and the way I handle laundry. It really makes my heart race thinking about it.

Hubz is going to try to install a new motor in the dryer this weekend to give us a little time. Give ME a little time to visualize and get comfortable with a new set-up, new appliances, new look.  Change is good, right?!

Where I ditch perfection…

Today I turn 40. There were no trumpets. No confetti. No big proclamations or cabana boys jumping out of cakes. Really, it has been “just another day”. And that is okay. I don’t need the flashy kind of birthday. I’m not flashy. I like quiet. It’s really just enough that my family and friends remembered and wished me well. And, well, Jake gave me the biggest hug this morning and a sweet happy birthday wish. (Considering that he’s 12 and most days I annoy him more than anything, that was one of the best gifts ever.)

I always get a bit retrospective on my birthday. With this being a “milestone” birthday and all, I have been thinking about my 30’s quite a bit. What did I learn? Did I come out ahead? One thing for sure, my 30’s had a lot of change, experience, and pivotal moments.

I started out that decade with a plan. I always had a plan. I was going to carpe me some diem. Or whatever. I thought I had it all figured out. I was going to work, we were going to add to our family, I was going to rock the professional and personal work/life balance thing. It was going to be amazing.

Looking back, my 30’s reminds me a lot of the game Perfection. Remember that game? I was going to get all the pieces put in just the right spots, with plenty of time to spare, beat the buzzer and win!

 

Jake had been born a couple years before. His arrival threw me because he was early. I was expecting Tate a few months after my 30th birthday. I was prepared. Even if he came early, we’d be okay. Nursery was done early. Clothes were washed. Bag was pack–EEEEEEH!!! The buzzer went off before I got those pieces put all together. Tate came 3 weeks and 1 day early, I had an emergency c-section because he was breech, and he was diagnosed with a heart murmur the day after he was born.

Tate’s first couple of months were the typical blur of having a newborn. We threw in some specialist appointments (turned out the heart murmur was minor and he would be okay). But damn, that kid WOULD NOT SLEEP. EVER. He was a fussy little guy, and hated to be snuggled. Hated being on his tummy. He threw up at seemingly odd intervals. I went back to work, barely getting enough sleep at night.

We moved on. The boys grew. We were finding our way. It wasn’t smooth, but it felt like the pieces were starting to fit a bit better. I was going to beat that buzzer. Yea—EEEEEEH! Buzzer went off. Damn! The head of our daycare called and expressed concerns about both Jake and Tate and their development. Whaaaaa?! She suggested autism in relation to Tate. I wouldn’t, couldn’t, listen. How? Why? Not my baby!!

We made appointments with Early Intervention. Tate was evaluated. He was severely delayed in speech, both receptive and expressive. His pragmatic skills were nil. What did that even mean?! Jake was speech delayed. He started services with the school. Tate started meeting with a speech pathologist. He then was evaluated for OT and developmental therapy. I felt like some new pieces were added to the game, but we were playing, and just about winning.

In 2009 we found out we were expecting another little boy. We were prepping for our transition to a family of five. Hubz finished the basement. The game of Perfection was getting closer to comple—. EEEEEH! Buzzer went off again. I went into pre-term labor at 33 weeks. It couldn’t be stopped. I had excessive amniotic fluid. I wanted to have a VBAC and, well, the baby was on his umbilical cord. A c-section was going to have to happen. Our little guy, Cole, was born 7 weeks early. He was small. But he was strong. He spent 3 weeks in the NICU. It was a rocky period, but we made it through.

I picked up those pieces, organized them differently, and started again. One piece went in so easily. Cole was flourishing. He was meeting milestones ahead of schedule, which was a relief. Tate was in Early Childhood preschool and was talking more and more. Jake was doing pretty well in kindergarten. I decided to stay home with the boys for a year or two, and I quit my job. I became a room mom for Jake’s class. I was figuring out how to navigate the parent gig with school and being home. My mom and I were talking about how much fun we were going to have once Jake and Tate were in school full days. Yes! I was figuring it out. These pieces weren’t so hard, after all…only a few more, and I’d wi—-EEEEEEEH!

My mom got sick. So, so sick. She was hospitalized. Then a stroke. Then a diagnosis…Pancreatic cancer. Terminal. How was I ever going to get through life without her?! The summer of 2010 was, and remains, a blur. I shuffled between caring for the boys and caring for my mom. I was truly sandwiched. The pieces of were scattered everywhere. I couldn’t even remember how to put them in the right way. That damn buzzer was going off. September 2010. The buzzer blew so loud and so fast. Mom was gone.

The pieces were everywhere. I think I lost a piece or two. I had enough to attempt to start over, so slowly, ever so slowly , I picked them up, and started placing them gingerly into their places. One. At. A. Time. I learned about things that were important. And I learned to let go of some things that weren’t. We also realized that as much progress as Tate was making, something wasn’t quite…typical. Six months after my mom died, we found out that our Tater Tot was autistic. No one I knew had a kiddo with needs like his. Hubz and I thought our game was totally busted. During that time the game sat on a shelf. The buzzer was jammed. I had other things to worry about.

Once we had a diagnosis for Tate, we got things moving. I figured out insurance. Hubz dealt with HR. We found ABA. Tate got more services. His IEP was beefed up. He started to make REAL progress. I pulled out the game, looked at it to decide whether I should try again. I flipped the pieces between my fingers. I could do this. Those pieces could fit. I could still win at Perfection. I got pretty close, but then, as usual, the buzzer went off, again, and I was no where near perfection.

As is the norm, the buzzer sounded a few more times in my later 30’s. I’d get SO. DAMN. CLOSE. Then…EEEEEH! Buzzer would go off. I kept trying, though. Then, one day, while I was putting those pieces in, I started to realize that maybe this game of perfection wasn’t where it was at. At 39, I put that perfection on the shelf. As it collected dust, I realized that I have friends whom get this roller coaster life that we lead. They have helped me see that perfection isn’t always the end goal. My family is fantastic the way it is. We can always work for BETTERING ourselves, but perfection??? It doesn’t have to be the end all, be all.

So, as I turn 40, I am chucking that stupid game into the garbage. I have finally realized that those pieces will NEVER all quite fit into their precise spots in a dictated timeframe. Life just doesn’t work that way.

This decade, I hope to work to achieve a balance. I know that there will be joy. There will be pain. Perfection is a word in the dictionary. I cannot and will not use it to dictate how my life should be. Perfection isn’t how I will measure my children’s successes, either. We are perfectly imperfect, and it suits us well.