Monday, August 5, 2013

A Quiver Full of BOYS



I live in a house full of boys.  I married a boy and now I have 3 sons.  I am surrounded by boys all day…every day.  Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it’s nice to be the only female in the house because it means that I am the queen of the house, but it also means that I am surrounded by boy stuff all…the…time.  I can’t seem to keep anything nice and pretty around here.  I can’t tell you how many holes Luke has made in my pretty chenille throw blanket and I’m not sure why but my boys LOVE to throw my pretty couch throw pillows on the floor and then step and jump all over them.  Those pretty pillows aren’t so pretty anymore - the stuffing inside of them is all messed up, there are snags in the fabric from Luke pulling at the fabric and most of them are lopsided now from the pillow fights and wrestling matches.  And that’s just the throw pillows.  Let’s talk about my carpet and walls for a minute.  Want to know how often I am scrubbing my carpets and wiping down my walls to get all of the juice stains, strawberry stains or milk and yogurt splatter off of them?  Yeah, you’re right…you don’t want to know…and honestly, I’m too tired to tell you anyway.  

I feel like I live in a constant state of exhaustion.  I’m exhausted because I spend my days trying to keep Luke from:  cleaning all the toilets with the toilet brush, eating 27 suckers throughout the day, getting into my jewelry and spreading it all over the house (I still can’t find the match to 2 different earring sets), getting into my purse to pull out my wallet where he will scatter my money and credit/debit cards all over the house, getting into my makeup to write on my walls with lipstick, getting into the movie drawer where he will pull all of the movies out and put his peanut butter fingers all over the back of them, getting into my bathroom where he opened my ONLY bottle of Christian Dior j’adore perfume and spilled it all over the carpet….and the list just goes on and on and on.

I seem to have an overwhelming amount of patience where Austin is concerned for which I am grateful, however that sweet child exhausts me too.  I’m not sure why but that boy INSISTS on my bed being unmade with the covers completely pushed to the end of the bed and all the pillows on the floor.  I have made my bed upwards of 8 times in one day because he kept messing it up.  I just gave up.  From that point on, if Austin is home all day I either don’t make my bed or I just keep my bedroom door locked so he can’t get in there.  When the door is locked you should see him standing on a chair trying to reach the key to unlock my bedroom door…it’s entertaining to say the least.  He also desperately wants to play with my iPhone, so much so that he types in random numbers trying to figure out my password to unlock my phone. During his quest to figure out my password he always ends up disabling my phone so that I have to wait for it to be active again before I can use it (sigh).  He also changes the language on our answering machine (his favorite is French) and he deletes some of the messages at random.  And when no one is looking he gets into my hot pink nail polish and proceeds to paint his nails all the while staining my carpet and couch with that lovely shade of hot pink polish.  And I won’t even go into the time that he deleted all the pictures off of my computer.  I was able to restore almost all of the folders from the trash bin on my computer but the picture folder labeled “Baby Luke Allen Parker” is still nowhere to be found (insert sad face here).

For the most part Michael (my oldest) is a help to me…most of the time. But the times that he isn’t a help, the times he just exacerbates the problem, is the point in time that I want to run away screaming.  I’m sure it’s just Michael’s age since he is a teenager now, but sometimes that mouth of his (he has a smart mouth, he talks loud, he never STOPS talking, he sings loudly, etc) makes me want to pull my hair out.  Matter of fact, as I am typing this he is currently in the kitchen singing a made up song about Luke to the tune of  “Oh Christmas Tree.” And he isn’t singing it quietly either…he’s even got his foot stomping to keep the beat going.  It’s also time for Luke to go to bed and Michael is ready for his chance to watch one of his shows on the TV so he is anxiously waiting for Luke to head upstairs.  So what does Michael do?  He just walked up to Luke and said, “Would you like to be the next contestant on ‘Go To The Crib?’ “  - which prompts Luke to start crying, screaming “No bed!! No bed!!” thus exacerbating the bedtime process.  See?  That’s what I’m talking about….his mouth runs like that all day every day and while most of the time it can be funny it also can get all over my last nerve.  

I mentioned in one of my previous posts a day or two ago that all the drama I have going on should be illegal….well that is so true.  I have a teenager boy (if you have a teenage boy then you know all of the issues that come with that), I have an 11 year old boy with autism (which means I am constantly on edge because I have to live in a heightened sense of awareness so that I can anticipate his needs and do everything I can to keep him safe) and I have a 2-1/2 year old boy (who is constantly into everything, has never met a stranger and loves to scream at the top of his lungs when he doesn’t get his way).  If you think that seems a bit excessive, well then you would be correct.  It’s a whole lot of crazy wrapped up into one little family.  I do love my boys (with all of my heart actually) and I try so very hard to be a good Mom to them but after the day that I had today, and well let’s be honest after the month that I’ve had, I’m ready for a break.  I need some time to relax, gather my thoughts and spend some time just being a girl.  But since that won’t be happening tonight, I’ll just have to settle for a long, hot bubble bath as I listen to some music.  Maybe that will help me escape my current reality for a little bit of “me time”...or at least one can only hope that it will….

Saturday, August 3, 2013

That One Friend



Today I spent my afternoon at the pool with a very good friend of mine.  She is actually one of my very closest friends.  I enjoyed my time laying in a chair soaking up the sun while we chatted about what was going on in her life and I talked to her about my crazy life.  I shared some insane stories of my night shifts spent working in the ER and my equally crazy co-workers that are the stars in those stories, we talked about my family and the chaos that erupts in my house on a daily basis, we talked about church, chatted about our individual views on controversial issues and agreed that the children playing at the pool needed a bit more discipline then they were receiving.  It was nice to have that time to just be Jeannine. I wasn’t anyone’s Mom…I wasn’t anyone’s wife…I wasn’t an employee, or a sister, or a daughter…I was just me and it felt good.  

My time at the pool today with Jennifer also reminded me of a simple truth...that every woman needs that one friend that they can be themselves with...the one friend that won’t judge them for bad behavior or a poor choice of words during an emotionally charged situation…the one friend that won’t be disgusted by you when you show up at her house with no makeup on and your hair not fixed…the one friend who is genuinely happy for you when you are blessed to achieve greatness…the one friend that is thrilled beyond words when you look beautiful – even if that means that you look better than she does…that one friend that knows when to just listen to you and keep her mouth shut and when she should speak some hard truth to you in a loving way…that one friend that knows your faults and loves you in spite of them…that one friend who will gladly walk in when the rest of the world has walked out.  As women we all NEED that kind of a friend.  And today I am reminded how grateful I am to be blessed with that kind of friend.  

Friday, August 2, 2013

Life Just Keeps On Going



I can’t believe that it’s been almost 2-1/2 years since my last blog post.  Well, let’s be honest, I actually can believe that it’s been that long.  I live a crazy busy life these days.  Most of the time I don’t even know what day of the week it is….sad, yes I know, but so very true.  Sometimes in the midst of my hectic days I pause for a minute and wonder how it is that my family hasn’t had me committed yet, because I’ve got more crazy going on right now than should be legal for one person.  But even though I feel completely overwhelmed on most days, I still wouldn’t trade it for anything else in this world.  It’s a crazy, insanely busy life but it’s MY life.

One of my last blog posts talked about me going back to school to pursue my dream of becoming a Nurse.  I am happy to say that after 2 years of some very hard work balancing the kids, my role as a wife and Mom and my schoolwork, I have finally made it to the clinical portion of my Nursing degree.  I’ve worked so hard to get to this point and now that I’m here I feel a bit panicked.  Feeling a bit overwhelmed and insecure in my abilities to not only finish what I started but to finish well.  I always give 110% to everything that I do (well maybe not EVERYTHING…some things like dusting, dishes and laundry get about 85% but who’s judging right?) and I have no doubt that I will follow suit with the same dedication to my studies…I’m just a little bit nervous about how I will juggle all my responsibilities in my quest for completion of my Nursing degree. 

With all the crazy that I have going on right now, I sometimes feel an overwhelming need to get all the jumbled thoughts and emotions out of my head so that I can make room for more important things like remembering where I put the car pool tag for Austin’s school or trying to remember if I already added fabric softener to the load of towels that are in the washing machine.  Because I’ve got so much commotion going on in my head I’ve decided that I should start blogging again…even if nobody reads it, it will still be my crazy life and all my messed up thoughts and feelings organized into one nice neat place.  It might even be a bit cathartic for me…so I’m going to give it a try. I probably should apologize in advance if I end up allowing you to see more into my life than you ever wanted to know, but I won’t…because to be fair, you don’t have to read it.  But if you do choose to read it...I hope that you enjoy the crazy!!

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

14 Years! Really?

So today is our 14th wedding anniversary!  I cannot believe that we have been married for 14 years!  We have seen many mountain tops and have gone through many valleys over the past 14 years but the most important thing is that we had each other.  I love Eric more now than I did the day I married him.  We have both changed over the years into completely different people than we were when we met.  The wonderful thing about those changes is that it has made our relationship stronger and our individual relationships with our Heavenly Father deeper.  I am so thankful for Eric...he is a loving husband, wonderful father and an amazing best friend.  I look forward to many more years to come!!

In honor of our anniversary I decided to post a little memory lane of photos.  I will try to keep them in order but I don't remember all of the actual dates.  Hope you enjoy the pictures!


This picture was taken in February 1995

This was Eric & I at a church Valentine's Banquet in 1995


 The next 4 pictures are from Church Camp 1995...we "got together" at Church Camp 1994 so this would have been our 1 year "anniversary."







 These next 2 pictures were taken in the fall/winter of 1995 to beginning of 1996.



This picture was taken in December 1996 at Eric's graduation from Texas A&M University.


Our engagement pictures.



This picture is crooked BUT one of my favorites.  It was taken after our rehearsal dinner the night before we got married.


Our wedding day:  Saturday, February 22, 1997 - 6:00pm




I LOVED this picture because it was so different then the usual "ring" picture with the hands on the flowers.








Another favorite of my Dad signing our Marriage License since he officially married us.


Eric & I at my sister Elisabeth's wedding - March 1998.


I think we are in San Antonio at some friend's house sometime in 1998.


Eric & I at my sister Sandi's wedding - February 1999.


I know this picture was taken in Oklahoma at John & Mishele Perry's wedding but I have no idea what year.



Eric & I at Brent & Danielle Williams' wedding in 1998...I think.


This picture is either late 1998 or early 1999.



This was Halloween 1998.

I know this was at David & Hollie Carnahan's house in San Antonio - early 1999.


New Year's Eve 2004.


Church Camp 2006 right before we moved to North Carolina.


Eric & I on our cruise - October 2009.


Thanksgiving Day 2010...right after I had Baby Luke.


That's all for now!  Can't wait to watch our family over the next 14 years!!

Friday, February 4, 2011

What's in your hand?

This particular blog post has been a long time in the making; mostly because it is a difficult tale to tell.  But it is a story I feel compelled to share, with the hopes that somehow God will be able to use my story to help someone else.  It’s the story of my journey through autism…the darkest, saddest days of my life so far.   For me to be able to share this story honestly with you I must confess that even to this day I struggle with Austin’s diagnosis and on really bad days I still grieve for the future I thought he would have.  My heart aches for the child that was taken from me, knowing that I will never be able to see what Austin would have been before autism.  Before that dreadful diagnosis came and stole my beautiful little boy in what seemed like a blink of an eye.  But every now and then I take this little trip down memory lane to remind myself that God’s hand has ALWAYS been on Austin’s life, even in the midst of autism.  And He is still there, right in the middle of my personal storm.  To be the Rock that I cling to when the waves are so high I think I might drown.  I remind myself that since the very beginning it has always been my prayer that on the other side of autism, no matter what that may look like, that God would get ALL the glory for Austin’s life.  So pull up a seat and get comfortable while I take you on a little trip down memory lane…
My second child, Austin Wade, made his entrance into this world at 5:52am on Tuesday, February 26, 2002 in a hospital in Dallas, TX.  Not many people were there to welcome little Austin into the world since it was so early in the morning.  It was just me, Eric and my older sister Sandi.  And even though there wasn’t a huge crowd like there was when Michael was born, there were still loved ones celebrating with us in spirit.  I distinctly remember my sister calling my Mom and Dad, who live in Ohio, to give them the news.  She told them his name (we had kept his name a secret) and held the phone up so they could hear him cry.  When my Mom heard his little cry she began to cry.  This was her third grandchild, but it was the first grandchild that she wouldn’t be able to hold at birth since they lived so far away.  It was a bittersweet moment for me.  For a brief moment it almost felt as if they were right there with us, welcoming this new life into the world.  That cold February day marked the beginning of a life-long journey that I was about to take...a journey that would lead me to the highest mountain tops and some of the lowest valleys…a journey that I would NEVER have chosen for myself.
Over the first couple of months of his life, little Austin proved to be a pure joy!  He was polar opposite of his older brother Michael, which is one of the things that I loved most about him.  He was a chunky little thing and I couldn’t resist squeezing and loving on him every chance I got.  He was very mild mannered with a smile that was infectious.  At every check-up Austin continued to make growth, constantly meeting all of his milestones right on schedule.  He rolled over at 4 months, sat up at 7 months and crawled at 8 months…right on target.  Even though he was a quiet baby he was very social.  Always smiling and laughing.  He had eyes only for his Mommy, he loved playing peek-a-boo and patty-cake with his brother and loved sleeping next to Daddy on the couch.  Around 9 months of age he started to wave his chubby little hand and say “bye bye”, he also said Momma and Dada beautifully.  And just like his brother he walked at 14 months to the day.  Smiling and laughing as he waddled to Mommy with a foam toy in his mouth.  So adorable, so precious, so perfect.  But all of that was about to change.
I took Austin to his 15 month check-up on a Friday at the end of May 2003.  His check-up was routine.  He was growing beautifully, still meeting his milestones…nothing to worry about.  He also got shots that day which were routine as well….again, nothing to worry about.  I remember this day because that next Monday was the day we left for Church Camp.  Eric had just started his job as a Youth Pastor at our church and one of the main summer responsibilities was taking a group of kids to Church Camp.  It was not our first year to go to Church Camp but it was our first year to go as adults in charge.  We were very excited about it and since we would be so busy with the youth kids all week I asked my older sister to keep Austin for me.  I wanted to be able to spend time with the teenage girls without the responsibility of dealing with an infant too.  She agreed and was so sweet to come to my house and watch Austin that entire week while we were gone. 
While we were at camp I kept in touch with my sister several times every day.  On Tuesday, when we spoke she mentioned that Austin started having diarrhea the night before and he wasn’t eating well.  She also mentioned that he was gagging on his foods.  I thought it was a little bit odd but he didn’t have any fever so I didn’t think there was anything to worry about.  He wasn’t acting sick so I told her to just make sure he stayed hydrated and let me know if it got worse.  I thought it might be related to his shots because Michael had gone through something similar with his 12 month & 15 month shots so I really didn’t think there was anything to worry about it. 
On Wednesday of that week I had planned on helping out in the Children’s Chapel with the puppets instead of going to Youth Chapel with Eric and the youth kids; but at the last minute I changed my mind and went to Youth Chapel.  I sat down hoping that I could stay awake through chapel since we had been up so late the night before laughing, talking, stuffing our mouths with marshmallows and eating all sorts of other unhealthy foods.  I had hoped it wouldn’t be boring.  So I settled in like everyone else to listen to what he had to say.  When the speaker got up on the stage the first thing he said was “Hold out your hands in front of you.  Open your palms and close your eyes.”  Then he asked us this question, “What’s in your hand?  What are you holding onto so tightly that you won’t let God have it.”  I immediately started to cry.  I knew EXACTLY what was in my hand that I was afraid to give to God.  It was my children.  I had struggled with giving God my children since the day Michael was born.  I like to be in control of things.  Giving control of something as big as my children was something I wasn’t willing to do…not even to God.  So the instant that question was asked my resistance failed and God was finally able to break down all of my walls.  I sat through that entire message crying because I knew what God was asking of me and I was terrified to do it.  What if He takes my children from me?  How will I go on?  What if I don’t let God have the control over my boys’ lives?  Will he take them from me anyway to punish me?  All these thoughts ran through my head as I struggled against the convicting power of the Holy Spirit.  I am not sure what else the speaker said that day because my mind was elsewhere deep in thought.  I just couldn’t get past the first question “What’s in your hand?” At the end of the message the speaker offered an invitation of sorts to everyone.  He said if you were willing to let go of what was in your hand, walk down to the front, write it down and nail it to the cross.  I am positive that I was the first person out of my seat that day in a room full of about 200 people.  I walked straight to the front, tears rolling down my face and I wrote “My children, Michael and Austin” on a piece of paper, picked up a hammer and a nail, walked over to this huge wooden cross and nailed my children’s names to that cross.  In that very moment I told God that he could have my children…they were His anyway.  I was done holding onto them.  I was giving Him control of their lives.  He could do whatever He wanted to with Michael and Austin.  And then I prayed that whatever He decided to do with them that He would give me the strength to be able to handle it.  I wasn’t in control anymore.  I remember getting up and walking right up that center aisle towards the back door.  I had to get out of there…so much emotion.  I was a mess and needed some time alone.  As I left the chapel all I could hear was hammers hitting nails into the cross.  I felt like a weight had been lifted.  What a beautiful thing.  I wouldn’t think about this day again for another year and by then my decision would have a whole new meaning to me.
Over the next couple of months Austin lost his infectious smile, he lost his eye contact, he stopping talking and he even regressed in his eating.  It was like he forgot how to eat solid foods overnight.  He gagged on all of his solid food so we went back to baby food.  It was the only way he would keep food down.  His pediatrician recommended he have a barium test done so we took him to the hospital for that test.  His results showed that nothing was wrong physically with his GI track so they referred him to a pediatric therapy center for Speech Therapy and Occupational therapy to help with his eating problems and sensory issues.  After he was evaluated there they recommended he have his hearing checked to rule out the possibility that Austin was deaf since he wouldn’t respond when his name was called or when anyone spoke to him.  And by anyone that included me.  I would walk into a room and he wouldn’t acknowledge my existence.  I would call his name and he wouldn’t look at me.  When by chance he did look at me he just stared at me with hollow eyes.  There was no life in his eyes.  The light was gone.  Austin’s hearing test came back normal.  I could have told them that.  I knew he could hear because he would come running across the house when he heard Elmo on the TV.  What didn’t make sense to me was that he didn’t seem to hear anything or anyone in his environment.  It was almost like his body was there but “he” wasn’t there.  He just seemed empty. 
In August, after all of the testing was completed, Austin started Speech Therapy & Occupational Therapy two times a week.  By this time he was 18 months old.  I drove him to therapy twice a week and sat there in the therapy room baffled at his behavior.  I would watch him and wonder what is wrong with him?  I would ask his therapists “What makes a child lose their eye contact and their language?” or “Why does he walk circles around objects on the floor?” or “Why won’t he respond to me when I talk to him?”  The answer was always the same “Let’s wait until he is 2 and if you still have these concerns we can refer him to a Developmental Pediatrician to evaluate his delays.”  I was fine with that answer…it seemed reasonable enough to me.  After all I really didn’t think there was anything seriously wrong with Austin.  I just thought maybe he was a little bit behind and he would eventually catch up to where he needed to be.  I was totally “fine” with that answer until right after Austin turned 2.  Then everything changed.
I remember the night I realized something was really wrong with Austin like it was yesterday.  It was a Wednesday night and I had stayed home from church because I wasn’t feeling well.  I had kept Austin home with me and sent Michael to church with Eric.  It was March of 2004...Austin had just turned two.  I was sitting on the couch watching the Disney movie “Dumbo” with Austin.  It was one of his favorite movies.  He would get so excited when the pink elephants on parade part would come on.  He would run around the room flapping his arms with excitement.  After the movie was over Austin kept walking back and forth behind the couch, running is hand along the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling.  I sat there and watched him for a few minutes and then I called his name.  Nothing.  I called his name again this time a little bit louder.  Nothing.  I knew he could hear so why wouldn’t he acknowledge me when I was speaking to him?  I was 5 feet away from him.  The next time I yelled his name.  Still nothing.  He just kept walking back and forth, running his hand along the couch looking up at the ceiling.  My heart sank into my stomach.  At that moment I knew that there was definitely something wrong with Austin.
The next day I took him to therapy like usual.  I walked with him into the therapy room.  I sat down and looked at his therapists and told them I thought that there was something wrong with Austin.  They just looked at each other and told me that maybe it was time to send Austin to a Developmental Pediatrician.  I agreed and we started the paperwork.   I left that day in what seemed like a fog.  I remember sitting in the parking lot at Walmart crying.  I called my Mom and told her that I thought that there was something wrong with Austin and she said “I do too.”  My fears had been validated and my heart dropped again.  She told me that she thought he had autism.  I asked her why she never said anything to me before and she told me that she had prayed that God would give her peace about when to say something to me.  I guess today was that day.  I looked at Austin in my rearview mirror and thought…autism?  Like Rainman?  How did that happen?  I went straight home, got on the internet and immediately started researching autism.  He seemed to fit the profile.  My heart just broke into a million pieces.  I lay in bed that night praying that God would give Eric and I wisdom about where to go from there.  I asked that God would give me the grace to be able to accept his diagnosis no matter what it was and that whatever the outcome was that God would get all the glory.
On April 22, 2004, Austin was diagnosed with moderate to moderately severe autism.  To say I was devastated would be an understatement.  I was incredibly sad.  I felt like I was grieving and in part I was grieving for the child that I had lost and the future I had dreamed for him.  I knew that I wouldn’t make it through this unless I leaned completely on the Lord and that is exactly what I did.  I quickly began my search for treatments that might help Austin.  I worked tirelessly on this…day in and day out.  I spent hours on the internet looking at different types of therapies that we could try and then I would go to bed and lay awake crying for the child that I had lost. 
That summer of 2004 in the midst of gathering information on Austin’s medical history for an appointment we had with a specialist, God reminded me of that wooden cross and the promise I had made to Him the year before.  I was sitting in the youth room with Eric and the youth kids one Wednesday night for our weekly lesson when it happened.  Eric asked the kids if they could think of a time when they were in a church service and they felt the presence of the Lord in the service.  One of the kids said that they had felt God’s presence at Church Camp the summer before.  That’s when it happened.  I heard that still small voice saying, “Remember your promise?  You gave Austin to me.  You told me that I could have him.”  That’s when I realized that Austin’s onset of autism had begun the very same week I made that promise to God.  The same exact week.  That wasn’t a coincidence.  That was God’s perfect timing.  If I had seen the storm that had been brewing I wouldn’t have stepped out of the boat.  I honestly don’t think I would have released the control if I had known what was going to happen. But I am so glad I didn’t know then what I know now.  I am so thankful that my heart reacted with blind faith to the fact that God would take care of my children better than I ever could.  After all, He loves them more than I ever could.  This realization encouraged me and gave me strength.  It was a reminder to me that God has ALWAYS been in control of Austin’s life.  From his very first breath of life to his onset of autism…God was always right there.  Even in the middle of the storm. 
I often have friends (and even people I don’t know that well) tell me about this story they read, this show they saw on TV or this kid they know that had autism and one day just snapped out of it.  I think they tell me this as a means of encouragement.  They think that they are giving me hope that maybe just maybe that might happen for Austin.  But the reality is – it probably won’t happen for Austin.  I know with all of my heart that God chose autism for Austin and I am OK with that.  I will probably never know the reason why, but I trust that the loving God that I serve has a plan for Austin’s life.  I don’t know how this story will unfold but I can’t wait to see the ending!  I can’t wait to see what God has in store for my sweet Austin and see how He will use Austin’s life to minister to others.  Because in the end I know that God will get all of the glory!