A trip to the dentist for Bashful

There are many many issues that Bashful struggles with... and when confronted with these issues,  he always says that he "can do" the required item, he just chooses not too... understand no amount of prompting or redirecting has thus far changed his mind about how he should handle his dental health (or any of his other struggles).

The process that got us to this place has been a slow and painful process.  Painful, in that every day sometimes three or more times a day, even at the age of 12,  I send Bashful back to the bathroom to re-brush his teeth.  Most times I watch him stand in the bathroom, in front of the mirror with a wet toothbrush, tap in on the sink counter, and dance a little and replace it, with the brush never going into his mouth.  On other times he has been observed, putting tooth paste on the brush, running the brush under the water (which is turned on so high) that the paste is blown off the brush into the bottom of the sink, and he places the empty brush in his mouth, and chews it and removes it.  Additionally there have been times when the brushing has been a straight in and out, on one side or on the top only, rarely in the front of his mouth, never on his tongue.

As with all our dwarfs, we set the course for good oral hygiene by setting a good example. (the Prince and I combined probably brush 5 or more times a day.) By doing it for the dwarfs when they were small, by shadowing them as they grew into toddlers, encouraging them through electric toothbrushes, fancy colorful and flavor filled kids toothpaste options covered in cartoon characters and bright colors, and we have purchased gallons and gallons of fast acting, mint tasting, plaque identifying rinse agents. Feel free to relive the fun oral hygenie story posted many years ago to understand how long we have been working on these type of issues.  http://www.malingle.com/2014/02/a-new-brand-of-toothpaste.html

However with all the tools he needs for the job, and all the redirection, teeth checks, and regular dentist visits, he has earned the affectionate name of "dog breath" here in the Kingdom, and has been directed on more than one occasions, randomly in the middle of the day to go brush away the funk... our motto is this:

"Brushing your teeth each morning is your gift 

to all that you are going to come in contact with today." 

A year ago, before the move, we had all the dwarfs go to our family dentist.  Everyone checked out just fine!   About four months ago, I noticed that Bashful had some additional "fangs" growing in his mouth over his already in place adult teeth. So, I started working on finding a dentist here in Florida that accepted our insurance, dealt with special needs, and had some good ratings as providers.  I called and had to wait many weeks for the appointment... and the day arrived finally.

X-rays are done and we sit in the chair. The hygienist "T" Bibs him up, tips back the chair and so begins the fun.  Literally she is not even putting pressure on his gums to brush them and they start to bleed.  As a casual observer from the corner, I can see that this is going to only get worse as she is just at the bottom rear of the first side of his mouth.  (for the record this dwarf has an incredible tolerance for pain, and a pride-fulness that never allows for him to admit pain or defeat) As T continues to work her magic cleaning his teeth, the blood is flowing freely, and they are having to clean out his mouth often as to keep a clear image of the teeth and the process of cleaning them.  Yet the dwarf has yet to flinch even once. I on the other hand am averting my eyes and feeling a bit squeamish. 

T gets the job done, and completes his final rinse... how she did it without a flinch or a raised eyeball is beyond me!  I am not sure if she was judging me as a parent, but I let her know in the beginning, (as I smiled brightly for her to see my dental hygiene routine was stellar) that Bashful was special, and that we are aware that his mouth has a lot of  potential problems, most concerning was the new arrival of the "fangs".

So we get his new toothbrush and toothpaste and floss and wait for the dentist to arrive...

What a delightful woman she is !  She scrubs up and settles in to take a look at the dwarf's mouth - she is reviewing the x-rays and matching up the mouth to the films... calling out the teeth by number and then adding the details of what needs to happen at each one if anything.  The progression is shocking as the mom, 9 cavities in total need drilled and filled, 2 of which will most likely need root canals because of the extent of the decay, and two removals (the fangs) as well as a diagnosis of gum disease.    Did I mention we are not discussing a 50 year old, but a 12 year old boy?

As the dentist begins to talk to me about the issues. I kindly stop her and instruct her to speak directly to the dwarf in the chair.   While I can see that one would assume that the parents are some how at fault or are ignorant of good oral hygiene, the words she was saying as the professional, but not the mom, are words that I say everyday, to him, sometimes multiple times a day which fall on deaf ears, cause significant attitudes, and often times complete meltdowns. Many times a week I hear his response to which is always the same.  " I don't want to brush, it is stupid.  I do not care if my teeth rot and fall out because I will buy new ones."    So I manage to redirect her, by also encouraging her that perhaps hearing it from Dentist, since I sound like Charlie Brown's teacher to him, would make this seem more serious, more pressing. 

To her credit she did a good job of discussing the seriousness of the situation with him.  He perhaps still did not get what she was saying until she told him that for a few weeks she would like his parents to oversee his brushing and flossing and that if we thought it was beneficial for him, that we should just brush and floss his teeth for him.  (that did not sit well with Mr I Can !!)  He wanted to make excuses of course and also asked if he could have braces to straighten his teeth, to which she indicated that no one would take the risk of putting braces in his mouth since most of his mouth was rotting.  (that was a good shock tactic)  Perhaps the final conversation that got his attention was this one:

Dentist: " Do you still think that girls have cooties?"
Bashful: "No."
Dentist: " I see, so you are starting to see that girls are cute and have nice smiles right?"
Bashful: "Yup."
Dentist: "So the smile is one of the first things you see about someone and it makes a big impact on others... when they see your smile they see gum disease and rotting teeth."
Bashful: "Fine I will stop smiling."
Mom: " I think what the Dentist is saying Bashful, is that when you are able to go on your first date you have to sit at the table and watch her enjoy steak while you sip on soup."
Dentist: " While I have never heard a mom be so blunt, she has a point."
Bashful: " Why can't I have the steak?"
Dentist:  "Because if you do not change the way you care for your teeth now, you will either have nothing left in your mouth but your gums, and you can't gum a steak and get it to your belly easily, OR you will have to spend all your money on new teeth, and you can only afford for one of you to eat the steak."

So Bashful has a summer of oral surgeries and procedures in front of him.  None of these will be pleasant and while he is a bit freaked out about the root canals and why he can not be put to sleep for them, we indicated that each and every day that he has fought us on proper tooth brushing procedures, refused to do what he is instructed  and to do it the right way, he was laying the ground work for this visit to the dentist.  This visit today was all about consequences that he has brought on himself.   He really should be grateful that we do not require him to get a job to pay for all this dental work!! I think a little discomfort and a couple root canals is more than fair consequences for years defiance, meltdowns, mouthing off and refusal to do one simple hygiene item...

You really can't make this stuff up.... but I am guessing that Bashful wishes that perhaps some of this was an exaggeration.... but it's not! 

"Your Momma..."

 I know many of you will read this post and will be thinking that Bashful was framed.  He is innocent.... well here is how the story goes, you determine which side of the story you land on at the end of it all.

At 11 AM yesterday my phone rings from the middle school number and I am greeted by the principle's voice on the other end.  "Mrs. Lingle, do you have a moment?"  Well of course I do.  He proceeds to tell me that Bashful is in his office, and that he has been involved in a fight and that he threw the first punch.  "Did I understand that the school has no tolerance for such behavior and that his (the dwarf's punishment) will be three day's out of school suspension." My response is really not one of more than our working out the details of the time off.  As  I wait for Basful to arrive home to tell his side of the story I vacillate between irritation and anger, however not knowing the whole story I try to keep my temper under control. 

As a side note, I think that out of school suspensions are just a big pain in the bum for the parents.  I can't imagine what working parents do... or how other parents deal with three days of "entertaining" their suspended children.  According to Bashful they get to sleep in late and play video games.  At our house an out of school suspension causes much work for the momma, because I refuse to allow the dwarfs to sit and do nothing. There is no sleeping in, no video games...   This is a consequence, and an interruption of my regularly scheduled day, so as the suspended dwarf, you will not be experiencing a vacation.   We have organized PE for 45 minutes, a writing assignment (on the first day it is typically a round of apology letters to the staff and students that had their day interrupted by the shenanigans that sent you to OSS ), math, as well as a list of chores created to suit the "crime".  But I digress... back to the story.

At first Bashful had a mouth full of attitude and sass as he began to tell his tale. I stopped him, and implored of him to lose his attitude, and to consider that a large amount of attitude and sass from him, in the manner that he relayed the story to the Prince and I, would only increase our irritation with him, and cause us to the "throw the book"  at him in regards to his punishment.  At this statement, his eyes got big, and he paused, shaking his head, and asked ..."Why are you going to throw a book at me."  If you do not find the humor in this exchange please refer back to my previous post about life with concrete thinkers!

So it unfolds; as Bashful was working with his reading partner, the class thug reportedly came up to him, and started posturing and trying to interrupt the work that the boys were doing,  All of which Bashful was able to look over and ignore, until in Bashful's words... "He then leaned into my face and said, Your momma is a big fat whale." " Mom, you know I don't play like that, nobody is gonna talk about my momma like that!"    Well there is a shock!  He talks about his momma that way.  However "game on" if someone else repeats what he says. So he stood up and swung, the other boy and he landed on the floor rolling around, and not only was the sheriff called to the room, but the class was disrupted, both boys got suspended and Bashful got rug burn on his arm as a souvenir.   

Now the Prince and I have some conflicting responses on what we would have liked Bashful to do in this situation.  I wish he would have just gotten up and walked back to his seat up front by the teacher so that the thug would stop bugging him.  The Prince's unofficial statement on the situation is stand up for yourself, and if you throw a punch, make it count. Especially if you are going to get three days of out of school suspension. 

I still find it laughable that a dwarf that spends the majority of his day disrespecting his momma, would stand up and get into  a fist fight to defend my honor.   I suppose there is still hope for our relationship!

You really can't make this stuff up!  And to prove it, today during his math lesson I asked him what number was in the middle of number 100 - to which he replied a zero!!  still chuckling here! 

Has it been 11 years?

It is amazing how fast time flies.  Eleven years ago the Prince and I embarked on a journey.  One that we knew we were called to, one that we knew would be a challenge. At the time we began the the journey did I have the ability or knowledge of so many unseen factors, nor the understanding that this may not end as a "happily ever after story".  I would say sincerely no.  I am not sure what I thought would happen as we progressed in this journey and the children started to age, and this post does not address those deep issues.....

However, as we have begun to meet folks here in our new home state, I have heard more times than I care to count these words and phrases:

" Wow, you must be amazing people."
" Your rewards in heaven will be great!"
"Those kids you rescued must be so grateful."    
" I would guess that your adopted kids are so grateful to be in such a wonderful home." 

While I am sure that these words  are intended to encourage us, or they are platitudes said because silence would be awkward, I would like to just comment from the heart about the above statements:

The prince and I are not "amazing" people.  We followed the calling of the Lord in our lives.  The amazing part is that in our sinful selfishness, we were able for the moment, see past ourselves, and focus on the clear direction of the Lord in regards to what He was calling us to do.   Yes, our rewards in heaven will be great, but not because of the fact that we adopted four special needs kids, but because we love Him, and it is our honor to serve Him.  That in times of goodness and in times of struggles we praise Him for the gift and for the trial.  We trust Him for our needs, and with our children's future, all 7 of them.

For the record, we did not rescue anyone.  If the truth is to be told, they have rescued us from a life filled with short sightedness, narrow mindedness and of being judgmental of others.  Because of them, and their uniqueness (sometimes I do call their uniqueness, their issues...) we have become more well rounded and tolerant of others, of who's stories we do not know just by glancing at them in passing.  In the midst of the hard things in life, we recognize that there is no way to know what is behind the "moment" in time that we are witnessing.  When your 12 year old pulls down his shorts in the store to show you that he is wearing the same underwear as that on display, I know that all who witnesses that scene were judging me, my parenting skills and the fact that my dwarf "looks normal".  However because of moments in time such as these, I am able to smile at the mom that is stressing over a situation with a "normal" looking kid, and not stare or be judgmental.  The only words that would come forth from my lips in that time, and only if it were appropriate, would be offer assistance or encouragement, as all to well I know the feeling of being judged wrongly based on a snap shot of time. 

Grateful by definition is feeling or showing appreciation.  In making a statement like the above mentioned, one would be assuming that my children are able to understand, comprehend and on some level have the emotional and intellectual abilities to be grateful.  I am sure on a basic level that they are thrilled to have a full pantry, indoor plumbing, electricity, comfortable beds and other niceties of a home as we know it, but the fact that many forget about,  is that these items to them are just expected because "everyone else" has them. They also think that when they grow up will be drafted to professional sports teams upon turning 18, that they can save their allowance and buy and drive expensive foreign cars, that the Lord has made a mistake in creating them and they are the wrong ethnicity, that they have no problems with math (even when they add 1/2 a cup of baking soda to a recipe instead of 1/2 a teaspoon), that they completely have a grasp on their finances, even when they turn over their entire wallet to pay for a purchase.  What additionally, they are unable in their minds to comprehend, is that they did not constantly have basic survival items prior to their coming to live in our home(running water, electricity, full fridge or pantry)  nor did they have any hopes of getting them or maintaining them during their existence prior to our home.  Yet at the same time,  they have an unrealistic remembrance of what their life was like prior to life in the kingdom.   A life where they ate grass because they were tied to a tree for the day and were hungry, or where the water was shut off and they drank ketchup when they were thirsty, or that when they were removed from their home the only thing in the fridge was a jar of salsa.    They live their current lives steeped in what they knew the first years of their lives, which was not so luxurious despite what they have been living in and with consistently for so many years.  They have an innate fear that this (the kingdom) is not real, even after 11 years that it will some day disappear.  (Side bar; as their ages creep closer and closer to 18 it is becoming obvious to the Prince and I that it may disappear for some of them as they are failing to grasp the tools we have been imparting to them for success outside our home.) 

Is our home wonderful?  We think so.  However not because of the list of stuff that is inside it, or the access to technology, or the full fridge, or any other specific "item" you could list.  Our home is wonderful because inside these four walls, one can grow, succeed, fail, mature, learn, and achieve while being protected, championed for, instructed and loved unconditionally.  Do any of us deserve unconditional love, NO!  However it is not about what we deserve, it is about modeling this in all situations so that the dwarfs can see the love of Christ.  So they can understand what it means to be committed to something greater than one's self, selfishness is what was modeled for them in their early years, and is hard wired into who they are now by extension.   However, what makes it wonderful in our eyes, makes it not so wonderful in their eyes, as accountability, the bar of responsibility, the anxiety of kind living, interacting with others, showing the love you are granted in return makes them extremely uncomfortable, and causes them to respond in the opposite manner you would expect.  Anger, frustration, tantrums, emotional shut downs, extreme blow ups, regressive behaviors, are exhibited by one or more dwarfs on a daily basis.  These extreme behaviors are rooted in a deep recess of their mind, one that they are unable or unwilling to let go of. 

In writing this post, it is my intention that when you hear a story similar to ours, that you give some deeper consideration in responding.  Sometimes silence is golden.  A smile or a handshake or hug and a simple Thank you can go a long way.   Sometimes if you know the person and or family in a more familiar way, the communication will be simple and clear.  For those that you meet, and you are hearing the story for the first time, perhaps consider other ways to phrase similar sentiments...

" Wow, you must be amazing people."  " I am amazed by what you have done." Or "I admire what you have chosen to do."

" Your rewards in heaven will be great!"  " I am sure this is more difficult than you imagined at times, but praise the Lord as it seems He has equipped you well for this journey,"

"Those kids you rescued must be so grateful."  " I would guess that your adopted kids are so grateful to be in such a wonderful home."   " I would guess that it is hard for kids to express their appreciation or even have an understanding of what you have done/provided for them, but I hope that someday they are able to understand and express gratefulness." 

I do know that those we are meeting, really are just trying to find a way to connect with us. I also recognize that most people now days do not have large families, and that fact alone makes people a bit uncomfortable.  But when they find out the large number of children was a purposeful and intentional act, then folks start feeling a bit off.   I can't say why, I have just seen it happen.  In a conversation that starts simply enough with, "Oh, how many kids do you have?" or "Is this your only daughter/son?"  there is a subtle shift in their eyes when the hear that we have 7 children, or we have 4 boys and 3 girls.

Look from what I hear, (again another often quoted phrase given to me as encouragement after hearing their ages) "You're in the home stretch now!"   Yes, if only that were so.  One is getting married, and one is graduating this year, and three will be in college next year.... but there is a lot of living and life to be done with a 12 year old who is mentally 8, and a 17 year old that learns on a 2nd grade learning level, or with a 16 year old that is just doing the bare minimum, because at 18 he becomes a famous sports figure.... Chances that I will ever be an empty nest-er are slim to none.    But I just smile and nod....

You really can't make this stuff up, but know that I can retell the tales of life with a large family, so that everyone we know and love can get a snap shot of life in the Kingdom. 

This is a story all about a boy, a hook and his passion for fishing

In the midst of the Easter preparation, with house guests a plenty, Bashful heads to the dock to do some early morning fishing...

Because of the number of people at my house, and the number of people that were planning to eat Easter dinner at my house directly after church, I was super prepared today.  I had my cake made, my eggs cut, my hams cooking, my veggies and potatoes in the crock pots heating.

I actually, by 10:15 am, sitting on the lanai drinking coffee and reading a book, when C. H. (Captain Hook, as we will affectionately call him for the remainder of this post) calls to me from the dock..."MOM, MOM, I have a hook in my head."    My initial response when he called to me was casual disbelief, shadowed by the dwarf's propensity for drama in all areas of his life. 

I yelled for him to stay put and I went to get the Prince.  The Prince, who did not think that he was needed, tried to get me to handle the situation.  However, on the off chance there really was a hook in his head, for any of you that know me, know that I am not so good with blood, or wounds, or really any symptoms that an injured or sick person would exhibit. As I am asking C.H. to stay put, and not move, he begins walking up from the water, rod in his hand, the line slack and the hook and lore attached to his head,  sort of looking like a zombie, I figure I certainly need the Prince to handle this situation.

C.H. arrives in front of the prince and the Prince cuts the line, they drop the pole on the porch, and head into the bathroom with a pair of needle nose pliers.  I scurry around looking for peroxide and cotton balls, to clean the wound after the hook is removed.  As all this is happening, C.H. is beginning to slowly panic about having a hook in his head.

Rather quickly the Prince assesses that this treble hook is firmly lodged in the dwarf's head, and that because of the barb, it is not going to come out at home with a pair of needle nose pliers.

While the Prince cuts off the lure,  I grab my purse, and the dwarf, and head to the closest emergency room.  Now as we drive, C.H. is beginning to slide into full panic mode.  For those of you that know him already, you are aware that he struggles with many of the easy things in life, so as you can imagine this "hook in the head"  situation now has his very active imagination in overdrive. 

Some of my favorite phrases of the drive: Please remember these phrases are being delivered multiple times, in rapid succession, with what sounds like a mouth full of marbles, as he cries and has snot running down his face.... 

" I just wish we had never moved here.  If we stayed in PA, I would have never hooked my head."
" I need dad, you can't help me."
" Can you just let it in there, it only burns a little and only hurts when I do this, as he shakes his head back and forth"
"I am never fishing again!'
"I am filing all the barbs off my hooks!" 
" I hate Florida. Florida is the reason there is a hook in my head."
" I know that the doctor is going to have to cut my brains out."
" I hate needles, there are going to be needles, I don't want needles, can you just leave it in?"

We arrive at the ER, and are admitted quickly, thanks to the young man that helped us, noticing that C.H. was special, and was struggling with obsessively freaking out about the unknown which he was claiming would be in part; the use of needles and scalpels and would require him to be put to sleep.

Several times staff or other visitors to the ER, stopped to tell C.H. that he was doing a great job, and that they knew someone or they themselves had at one time a hook lodged in part of their body.  Knee, hand, foot,  although no one that we ran into had ever had a hook in their head... which did eventually allow him to stop focusing on himself and think of others for a small bit.  We were shown to the ER bed, and the first nurse comes to us to access the situation with Kenneth quickly returning to full panic mode as he swears that while she is looking at the hook and moving his hair, that she is going to give him a shot, that she is trying to rip out the hook, and that she is going to push it in further.   I attempt to answer her questions, all the while having C.H. focus on me, and breathe while keeping up with the flowing snot from his nose as he begins crying again.   She is kind and attempts to reassure him, that he will be fine and that she really is just looking, but now his newest fear is that she is going to shave a bald spot on his head, and we go back to the few earlier phrases on repeat mode, adding in, "I can't have my hair cut out, it will never grow back in, I will have a stupid bald spot forever. "

In an attempt when the nurse leaves to reduce some of his panic, I take this photo, and show it to him.  Explaining that yes they may have to shave a section of his head to work on the removal, it would just be a little area because the hook is small, and that we can get him a hair cut so that it is all the same length on Monday.   He seems to calm down a bit more when he notices that the hook is indeed smaller than the hook in his head that his mind has created, and so we settle in to wait for the next step.

The nurses and I have a couple conversations about his special needs, his fixation on the hook and what he has imagined will happen and how we can transport him to the room for removal, without him seeing any of the "tools of the trade".  They bring him a cocktail of pain relievers, which he thinks is sleeping medicine, and immediately begins to act like he is falling asleep.  So that is fine, I will take it, it was calming and restored some sort of normalcy to him, helped the panic subside a bit and overall created a calmer dwarf.

We waited about 30 minutes for the pain meds to kick in, and the nurses came to take us to the private room so that they could do the removal of the hook.   Upon arrival to the room, they brought a pillow case to him, and had him put his arms behind him and in the pillow case.  This "merman" contraption, was a great source of comic relief for several minutes, until C.H. realized that he could not get his arms out, and was basically in a straight jacket of sorts, lying face down on the bed, ready for the nurse to remove the hook.

The procedure was actually pretty quick.  The staff was great at their job!  One nurse talked to him, while I held his hand through the pillow case, and rubbed the back of his leg, still laughing about him being a merman, as the second nurse injected him with the numbing medication.  He never saw that needle coming, but he sure felt it.  While he was still having some anxiety about the needle, the fast acting medication and the nurse were able to remove the offending hook,

and begin cleaning the area around the wound.  Just as he was feeling the sensation of the cleansing solution on his head, one quick shot from the staple gun, and we were finished.

Phew.  Still a bit concerned about the noise behind his head, he focused on sitting up and removing his pillow case, and it was a good 20 minutes until he wondered if there was something still in his head.  At which time we were able to tell him about his staple, to keep the wound shut.  Of  course that lead to another several moments of high anxiety as he was concerned about how big the staple remover would be that would "rip" that from his head in a few days...

I am convinced that there will always be something for that dwarf to be anxious about.  His mind is a hot mess of over imagination, brought on by his lack of ability to process things, and too much influence from outside forces like television and movies.  A melting pot for anxiety and stress to be sure.

So this is the tale of our Easter morning 2015.  Perhaps I should hide some eggs next year, or create a scavenger hunt, or fill some baskets and hide them.  Maybe I should have let them sleep in later, or had them working on their chores.... I was teasing C.H. that he sure picked a great way to get out of going to Easter Sunday services...

You really Can't Make this Stuff Up! 

PS- Mr, I am never going to fish again, was on the dock by 4PM.

Tunnel Vision

We have been experiencing something lately in the kingdom.  A phenomenon that I can only attribute to extreme tunnel vision brought on by distinct lapses in common sense and feelings of entitlement.

What else causes us to focus on one thing to the point where acquiring that "thing" consumes our thoughts and our actions until the desired result is in our hands.  We have to possess it.  We have to acquire it at all costs.  We throw warnings, cautions and any common sense to the wind.  Our life is ruled by absolutes.  We are like addicts.  We deceive ourselves.   Everyone else has this.  Everyone else does this.  I am the only one without.  I am the only one not allowed to do this.   

I understand selfishness. However when the focus is so consuming that until the desired "thing" is yours, that goes beyond just plain selfishness.  It becomes foolish.  

At some point in life we all have to make a choice to continue to be a fool or to be wise.  Not wise in our own understanding, because that leads back to the way of the proverbial fool. but to desire wisdom, to see and understand how tunnel vision affects more than just yourself and to flee from all things that cause us to fall under discipline and consequences because of poor choices.  To stay intentional and purposeful on the path of foolishness, makes my head hurt, my heart ache for the future, and my soul cry out to the Lord for an intervention, an "ah hah" moment. 

The fools (in this case a couple dwarfs) are drawn to sin/poor choices/poor behaviors. It is like they have a homing devise implanted deep within them, that draws them in. Where some know right from wrong, or can steer away from questionable situations, others just dive right in, and not even at the prompting of another.  On their own, under their own steam, their original ideas, because they are so focused on what they have to have or what they feel that they are missing.  Now as a mom of so many, am I more aware of some of the dwarfs and their poor choices because their issues of focus are more overt than some of the other dwarfs in the house, most assuredly.  But the part that just makes me scratch my head is that they seem to draw pleasure from the grief, that the poor choices bring.  Always they are found out.  No matter what the object of their desire is, it is always uncovered and brings more heartache and consequences to them, yet at the end of the day, it is if it never happened, AND they go back and repeat the same poor behavior with a renewed tunnel vision focus in the hopes that this time the results will be different.  (This is the living working definition of insanity, alive and well in our kingdom.)

This week I read in my quiet time this scripture from II Timothy 3, "In the last days perilous times will come: For [people] will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boasters, proud...headstrong, haughty, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God" (vv1-4)  I fear that some of my dwarfs are on this path.  I am concerned that as their mother, I am not doing enough to guide and direct their path away from this tunnel vision thinking.  As a believer it is alarming to me that I see this in living color, in my own home where I feel so powerless to stop it, curb it, diminish it or make it disappear. 

I am sure that I am not alone in knowing and loving someone that struggles in the area of making good choices, and repeating the poor ones thinking somehow today the outcome will be different. As much as I say this to myself, I hope you will be encouraged too, the Lord loves my dwarfs even more than I do.  I am doing what I can for them, in the consistent message we send, in our unconditional love,  how we live our life and the decisions that we make in front of them and by praying continually for their hearts to soften to the still small voice of the Lord.  Selfishly, I also pray that I or another will always find out their schemes, that the things they desire, will literally be like hot coals in their hands once they are acquired, and that their conscience will bring them forward to own up to their poor choices.  

Right now we are still at the stage where their tunnel vision issues are all being found out about, but I so desire the day when they come to me and admit their poor choice, and seek to make things right, or if I could dare to dream so big, the day that they walk away from their selfish desires, think through their actions to what the end result may be, and choose wisely to start with.   

Parenting is not for the faint of heart.

There are days when I wish I could make some of this stuff up...

"How fast can you run a mile?"

"How fast can you run a mile?" is the question recently overheard through an open window.... ( I know how dare I post that in February, I have the windows open for the cool breeze)

The neighbor boy is over to pass football with Grumpy.  Grumpy of course is the athlete that puts all other athletes to shame.  He is nimble, agile.  He is a three point master.  A touchdown scoring machine.  Although he has never played, he is a hat trick boss.  And,  I found out through eavesdropping, (come on you know you do it to your kids too) that Grumpy is really, really, really fast!

So as I hear the neighbor boy say to Grumpy in a casual manner. " So, how fast can you run a mile?"  I stop in my tracks and pay particularly close attention to Grumpy's answer.

All of you that run, have ever run, or ever desire to run, should sit down.  I am about to take the wind from your sails, the record has been set.... Drum roll please.....

"I can run a mile in like, two minutes dude. How about you?"   Well no one is going to admit that they run a mile is 5 minutes or 8 minutes after that revelation, so the neighbor quickly throws the football long, Grumpy goes after it and that quickly the conversation turns to other less dramatic boy things.

Now while the boys are in the yard, I pull up some google searches on fastest mile ever run...  and while some have broken four minute mile, and just by a small amount, there is no one that I could find that has ever run a 2 minute mile.

After the neighbor goes home, I call Grumpy in and ask him to repeat to me how fast he can run a mile.  "2 minutes!"  "How do you know that?" I ask.  "Because during PT, that is how fast I was clocked running the mile. "  "So, there is NO way you are confused about the distance that you were running?"  "Could it have been a half mile in two minutes?"  Still in my mind a highly unlikely probability, but one that I could consider.  A highly insulted and overly irritated teen boy voice screeches in my ear, "No, mom you can ask anybody.  Ask Colonel!"   "Okay, I will email him, and until we hear back from him with confirmation of your running abilities you should look at these web sites, and statistics and think about what professional, and trained athletes are doing in the world of running."   Yet in the face of the facts, 2 minute mile is his story and he is sticking to it!

Below is the emailed response from his Colonel:


"Ma'am
Rest assured that if young Grumpy was indeed capable of a 2 min mile. You would have known about it LONG ago. The fact is he has repeatedly run 2:00 and even 1:30 Quarter miles. Which is the distance of one lap around the bus loop."

Now look, as the mom of a very concrete, special needs child, I want to do my very best each day to encourage him, not discourage him. I feel the need to not just for my own satisfaction, (although sometimes I think it would just feel so good to say nana nana boo boo, I told you so) but for his protection from the unkindness of strangers, to whom he is sharing his two minute mile story with, to set the record straight. So, I hold my tongue.  I launch into the logical and mathematical reasoning for why he is not and without training, never mind the human improbability,  will never be able to just run a two minute mile.  I think he gets it.  However, that doesn't erase the fact that in his mind, when he turns 18, the NFL is going to call to draft him ....maybe we will tackle that delusion another day.  

You really can't make this stuff up! 

Follow up to "We Pray too Much"

I do not often post about things that are non dwarf related, and while the initial "We pray too much" post was about D1 and D2 and their conversational attempt to get out of going to the church wide prayer meeting last night, this follow up post is an effort to share my heart's response to the prayer meeting from an adult perspective.

First let me state that if I have heard it one time, I have heard it said 1000's of times, "you can't judge a book by it's cover".  In the case of people, you have NO idea who is sitting beside you, behind you or in front of you at church, in a school PTA meeting,standing in line at the grocery store.  We all have a story. We all have pain.  We all have grief.  We all have joy.   Last night at prayer meeting this was played out in front of me in a way that I have never experienced. If I had, I was blind to it.   I am grateful that the Lord removed the blinders from my heart last night.  Today my day took on new meaning as my heart is tender for more opportunities to serve, share and pray for others.

Many of you know since moving to our new home we have not had that feeling of really "connecting" with our new church home.  While we feel that God has clearly called us there, we are still unsure what our mission is going to be, or what the Lord wants us to do in service to Him.  We are attending faithfully, giving faithfully, participating in the fringe of things, you know the "easy button ministries" like Thanksgiving donations for the food bank, volunteering to help with some of the activities our kids are involved in, the community outreach events (Trunk or Treat),  coaching the Upwards basketball program, and hosting a life group.  None of which requires nearly as much of a commitment that we had coming from our old church, nor has the relational attachments or foundations that we are accustomed to.  To say that we are starting all over in relationship building and carving out ministry opportunities is accurate.  I believe at this point some of the dwarfs have a deeper ministry and involvement in our church than the Prince and I do.  (Which is of course heartwarming to the Prince and I.)  All of this to say, because of our lack of personal involvement/commitment and strong relationships (which I know will take much more time to build, than the amount of time we have been here in Florida) last night's kick off prayer meeting was a step of our faithfulness in seeking Christ and a step towards our continued growth and commitment to our new church body.

Even after lecturing D1 and D2 last night about the fact that we do not pray nearly enough at  home or during our day, and discussing what praying without ceasing looks like, and why this is a necessary and  foundational principle in the Christian life, I walked out of church last night touched, overwhelmed, blessed, encouraged, and uplifted knowing that I had felt the presence of the Lord during the corporate assembly of  praying believers. 

Our church has kicked off the year with a renewed emphasis on Prayer.  We met as a group last night ( I stink at anything with numbers but I would guess more than 100 + persons)  and spent some time in worship before the staff of the church began to speak to us about their vision for the year and the three ways that we were encouraging us to structure our prayer lives.  I will not go over all the details they shared because, in it's self is just a guide for implementing what they felt the Lord laying on their hearts. The amazing part is what happened next. When the staff walked away and the people began to share.

"Sue" gave her testimony.  A testimony about how prayer gave her hope during a pregnancy for her little girl, that when she was told early in her pregnancy, her daughter would not make it because she was not strong enough.  While the pregnancy continued, with faith and hope, she prayed for this baby.  She was born in the 8th month stillborn.  At the time, she already had three boys. Fast forward years.  A grown son (and a group of his friends) that turned to drugs and for six years tore apart their family.  All her boys lives, she prayed with hope that the Lord would protect her boys and their family from drugs, and alcohol. She prayed to the Lord for her son's deliverance from this stumbling block not willing to loose another child. (2 young men lost their lives in overdoses)  She never stopped her petitions to the Lord, never getting angry, knowing that the Lord was in the details.  Her son is a recovering heroin addict.  Praise the Lord.   My struggles and those of my children are nothing in comparison to her's.   For my spouse, for my kids, for their fears, temptations, struggles, joys. I don't pray enough.

We then were instructed retrieve our prayer card we were given for the church ministries.  Pray for the wisdom of the leaders, the salvation of the lost reached by each ministry, the growth of the believers involved in each ministry, for the provision of new volunteers to the ministries and for the ministries to be build community among them and their team.  The card then listed 33 ministries of the church.  The card we were given last night had one of the ministries marked off, and each person in the room received a different card .... for a period of time we each prayed for the ministry marked off on our card in the all the areas above listed.   I prayed for life groups and the Prince prayed for the women's ministries.   Again, not being good with numbers it is my guess that each of the 33 ministries had at least 3 -5 persons praying for them.  An amazing feeling to be part of a corporate body praying for the ministries that it supports. For those fearless leaders that care for my youth, for the pastors that lead, for the support staff, for the volunteers at the church I attend,  I don't pray enough.

Now, this part is where potentially I felt the  biggest impact. Where the whole "You cant judge a book by it's cover" really became clear to me.   We were instructed to split up into small groups.  To many church goers this is where their comfort meter spins out of control, they are tempted to leave, they start sweating profusely... but the Pastor addressed this also, and indicated that while he knows that not everyone is comfortable with this, that if they tried it, he promised that they would indeed be be okay!  So the Prince and I hop up and gravitate towards a small group of people in the back of the sanctuary.  ( After all we are baptists at heart! )   We greeted one another, and as all of us do when meeting new people, we started to assess the folks that we were combining with.   Two couples, one older and one with a small child and a friend of relative, and the Prince and I made up the group. Everyone seemed "normal" like me...   Assignment - introduce yourself.  Name and where you are from. Period.  No more.  Easy.  The Prince and I, "Sam", "Sharon", "Rich", "Jamie", Rich's mom and his 19 month old daughter.  Everyone still seemed "normal" like me. 

Next assignment for our group share one personal prayer request per person. This is where the blinders came off.  My vision of normal destroyed.

Ten years ago suffered a stroke, still praying for full recovery of the left side
A son in the final stages of his FBI testing
A baby's friend that is six months old with fluid on her brain
Opportunities to witness at work
The most overwhelming request, their all consuming focus:

A mother,  and wife praying for their son/husband battling brain cancer (the father) can't be older than 30. 

Normal?  Hardly. I assumed these folks were just like me, but out of our group of 7, 5 were experiencing what I would determine to be overwhelming circumstances in their lives.    We immediately gathered around this young husband and wife, and his mother and their small daughter and prayed for healing, forgetting that there had not yet another assignment given.  What do I have to contribute to this?  The only thing that I know to do.  Pray.  Heart wrenching, sob inducing prayers to the Lord on behalf of a stranger. 

As we moved through the remainder of our group time and we brought before the Lord the prayers for healing for the lingering affects of the stroke, the strength and endurance needed for the testing, for unique opportunities to witness at work and for a dear sweet baby with some uncertain health issues.  Additionally, praying for the salvation of those that we know and interact with each day that do not know the Lord, our therapists, our neighbors, our cousins, our friends, our children. Ending with a time of prayer for missionaries across the globe, for our president and for our leaders.  I take for granted the blessings in my life.  My health, my relationships.  The leaders of our country, our state.  I have limited God.  I have limited my prayers to what is comfortable, or is situational.   There is so much need in our world.  So many hurting people. Deep, heavy burdens. Their bubbles are touching mine.  They are sitting in the back row of my church.   I do not pray enough.

"Rich" loves the Lord. You can see the peace in his eyes, but the storms ahead are raging.  He has gone through so much already with treatments, and now has to face surgery for this cancer that is in yet another spot on his body.  His ministry for Christ is in the most unusual place (doctors offices and hospitals) and with staggering personal trials and physical pain.  Yet he prays with conviction and hope.  
"Sam" is not loosing hope for his health to be restored. Ten years after a stroke.  In his "disability" each week he has the ability, and takes advantage of it, to be a witness for Christ to his therapist.

I am living a blessed life, it is humbling. There is no guarantee that it will stay this way.  Looking back on the last three weeks of my life one dwarf in particular could have caught himself on fire or been injured in a car accident that would have altered our course in life.  In these reflections I am sure no one afflicted with trials had any insight that they were coming.  While I am able, I need to develop the habit of praying consistently without ceasing. So that when I am going through a difficult time in life, I can do what I have been trained to do, seek the Lord for my strength, and for my peace.  I need to be more outwardly focused. More concerned about others.  More aware of what is going on around me.  I need to pray for those that are in the midst of a  battle, fighting.  I am not faithful enough.  I am not diligent enough. I simply don't pray enough.

These "strangers"  were able to show and share with me last night,  true faith, true commitment to the Lord and their peace that passes all earthy understanding. The condition of great unwavering faith doesn't come from situational prayer.  It comes from conditioned, trained, purposeful prayer.  If the Lord brought me all the way to Florida to show me this, I am grateful.  I am humbled and I am excited about what the Lord is going to reveal to me this year through our new church and it's emphasis on prayer.


Here is to a great year.  Eyes, and heart wide open!  I am so glad that I do not have to make this stuff up!

*Names have been changed in this post.