Inspiration

When to Give up and Get Help

When you have a special needs child like I do, (three actually who lost their parents this past year) and one acts up, several factors come into play. 1, is this a behavioral issue? 2, am I missing something physiological? 3, is this a maturity issue? or 4, is this due to the loss?  Asking yourself that upon each and every need for redirection can be quite daunting.

I realized this when my son, who has Autism, was a young man.  I am up to the task, so I begin to list the several factors that could play into the reaction from the child.  What I find is that when I couldn’t put the behavior into one of those categories; it was then I knew I needed professional help. I found an amazing therapist for the child.

What I also found is that if a therapist is goal oriented as ours is, the parents have just as much responsibility as the child does. So, with that said my homework if you will was to watch the mad, sad and glad moments throughout the course of one week. Which I did with enthusiasm.

In doing so I noticed patterns that were not obvious to me, throughout my taxi driving, cooking dinners, picking up the umpteenth million sock or shoes off the floor or any number of tasks that line up for me upon pickup from school.  What that did was allow me to give credible feedback to the therapist.  That in turn led to a different outcome than we had been leaning and I may in fact helped my child find moments of joy in her life.  This week has been a resounding success after the session. We’re on our way I can feel it.

Inspiration, The Children

“The Year of the 1st’s”…The Introduction

Recently, as many of you know, I have taken on the enormous yet honorable role of raising three adorable children who’s parents have passed on.  I thought I would be in for the hardest time when I found out that no one had been setting boundaries, teaching them how to take care of their bodies or their home.  I thought that life would be sad, difficult in that nothing would be as it appears. There would be outbursts, anger fits, and tears. I was wrong. Kids are more resilient than people give them credit.

These three are no different. In the coming months I hope to introduce you to each of their unique personalities.  I hope to show you through their stories how trials and joy bubble up without permission.  I hope that you, as I have will fall in love with them, want to fight for them, and ultimately join me in encouraging these kids.  They need a cheerleader, and a parent who loves them as they do their own.  That’s me.

I wonder if you’ll be interested in learning about all the firsts?  You see, people think about the emotions of the loss, but what they forget is that life for all the wonderfulness of not knowing what is about to happen is all about moving on.  The first birthday without either of their parents.  The first time they plan for their future without their parents. It’s about the moments that come and go and will ever be shared with mom or dad.  Even something incredibly joyful and to see that bright face turn around and exclaim how much they want to share it with– and then there’s the realization that that person isn’t around anymore.

As they become their own individual souls who embrace their special talents, the path to success begins to reveal itself.  Learning to love, and to give thanks to those who support them is making these kids into powerful beings.  They’re more than just victims and then survivors. These kids are amazing beautiful children who are happy more than 90 percent of their day. They’re hopeful. They’re productive.  It’s a full-on-board all hands on deck inclusive and enthusiastic approach to teaching, guiding and molding behaviors.

The Children

Why did God choose me?

Three years ago she asked, “Will you love them like they’re your own?” And I answered, “Of course!”  Did I understand the consequences of my agreement at the time? Probably not!  I believe I just wanted then what I want now, and that is to be part of the proverbial “village” that is needed to raise the kids?

Three years of not being able to hug a parent, or play ball, or talk to them, or shop, or eat dinners, or believe that the security they provide is actually going to last?  These kids came to me broken.  They’re all riddled with the absence of constant attention. Their grades plummeted.  Their behaviors were horrible.  It wasn’t because their mom and dad didn’t love them.  In fact, what really matter is that the base of a good kid is in each one due to the fact that their parent’s adored them!  They’re all just sucking the life out of everything they can, because they each believe that people come into our lives, and then they leave.

In the process of becoming the authority, the responsible adult, the security blanket, poor Aunt Rebecca became the disciplinarian. Yes, and in doing that, I lost my fun Aunt Rebecca title and became, “mean Aunt Rebecca!” I have to tell you that the beginning was not as much fun as I thought it was going to be. In the end, though, this journey is proving to be an incredibly honorable experience. I’m not only learning about them, but the second turn of raising a set of kids is forcing me to learn more of myself.

There’s so much to do.  There’s so much to say.  There’s so many things that I want to teach them.  Much to prepare them for.  I’m up to the challenge. I am.  Sometimes, I fade into the despair of what it must be like to lose both your parents at once.  Sometimes I weep because they didn’t know how absolutely incredibly loved their parents were.

Here’s what I do know. I try every single day to be a better person. To be kind and put the frustrations of my inadequacies behind me.  I don’t show weakness to the children. I show them consistency. I know I am not supposed to be their friend, I am the person who puts them before myself, or anyone or anything. That’s my job.  I don’t take it lightly.  It is my belief that I am profoundly and irrevocably committed to their overall happiness and well being.

I’m no longer complain. I try to do things a little different and let go of my own expectations.  I’m not going to try and reason or understand because it does me no good. I’m not going to spend this year lost in the muck of pain and anger of what has been lost, or what will come when the ultimate loss is paid.  All I can do is push through to the good, the joy of what I see in the community around me. Take stock in the kindness of others and not ask what the angle is. To revel in the fact that I have the skills necessary to do this job and thank the good Lord he saw fit to prepare me for this journey.

I pray every day that I do a job that deserves praise.  I love them. Unconditionally. I may never know why God chose me, but what I do know, is that I thank God every day that he did.  Amen.