Two Words: Retainer and Toilet

"Mommmmmm.  Where's my . . ."  I hear it a thousand times a day.  It's uttered at the beginning, middle, and sometimes near the end of searches for lost items.  Wallets, homework, permission slips, hairbrushes, special rocks which I never knew that they had, they all have a way of hiding themselves in the corners and crevices of our house.  Tonight, it was her retainer.  Somehow, it was assumed that I would know where it was.  I did not.

"Oh . . . my . . . gosh.  Mommmmmmm!  Josh threw it into the toilet!!"

Josh sat at the dining table eating his toast with neither guilt nor amusement.

"Josh, did you throw your sister's retainer in the toilet?"

"Yes"

"What do you need to say?"

"Thank you."

"No Josh.  Sorry."

"Sorry."

What do you think?  Is he innocent?  Does he know what he is doing or no?  

In the face of something that Josh has done wrong, it is never clear whether he is aware of his transgression or not.  Usually, I am too preoccupied by my own (often triggered, distracting, unhelpful) response to really be able to assess whether Josh is experiencing remorse, guilt, or defensiveness.  What I am wondering these days is this:  Does Josh understand that he does things that are wrong?  Does he know that he is a sinner? Or is he "an innocent"?  In biblical language, does he not have the "knowledge of good and evil"?  

As a parent, I am aware that part of how children grow in their conscience is that parent teach them and reinforce that reality by giving them consequences for their actions.  But how does one punish a kid who responds like this?  I can't remember now if I gave him a consequence in this situation.  We were too busy freaking out and trying to figure out if we could save the retainer.  

Miraculously, my daughter was frustrated but not angry.

"Why aren't you angry, Hope?"

"I don't know if Josh knows what he's doing or not.  Maybe he does.  I don't know."  She laid on my bed writhing with tension, amusement, aggravation and a drop of love.

Swearing, Profanity, and Cursing

Today, as Josh was making himself some toast he dropped the butter knife onto the floor and immediately exclaimed, "Sh*t!"  I looked up with surprise in time to hear him say it again three times with vehemence, "Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t!"

After surprise, came amusement.  After amusement, came pride.  My son was using an interjection in a contextually appropriate way!  Way to go, buddy!

As you may know, if you have read any of my other blog posts, Josh is not someone who has a lot going on in the way of expressing language.  In fact, his spontaneous (non-prompted) language falls generally in two categories; echolalia (random echoing of things that he has heard before without appropriate meaning or contextualization) and expressing simple needs or desires ("I want toast").

To have Josh use profanity appropriately with some amount of affect was kind of awesome!  At the same time, I wondered where exactly Josh picked this up.  Was it from us?  From school? From kids on the bus?  I wish I could say that I knew for sure that he must have had this modeled for him outside of our home but, alas, I cannot.  

In our early parenting years, when blow out diapers, interrupted baby naps, and finding people spreading poop on walls were a regular part of our lives, I noticed that Josh was much more likely to echo swear words that came out of my mouth than anything else.  Perhaps this was because they were accompanied with clear and passionate emotion.  

We've been talking a lot about swearing with our (6th grade) girls recently.  We've wondered together why swearing is supposedly bad.  I hate it when people just tell you not to do something without having a reason so I've been thinking about it a bit myself;  Do you refrain from swearing just because it makes you a bad person?  Why do we have the sense that we should not swear?  True, the Bible says that we shouldn't swear but I think that means swearing as in "making oaths" or taking the Lord's name in vain.  Ok, so we don't say, "I swear to God..." or use Jesus' name in irreverent ways. But the specific question that we have sought to answer is "What exactly is wrong with using profanity?  

In her book,  Swearing Is Good For You: The Amazing Science of Bad Language, Emma Byrne writes that "Swearing, it turns out, is an incredibly useful part of our linguistic repertoire. Not only has some form of swearing existed since the earliest humans began to communicate, but it has been shown to reduce physical pain, help stroke victims recover their language, and encourage people to work together as a team."

Even the apostle Paul uses "coarse language" in Philippians 3: 8 when he says, "What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ."  That word which is here translated "garbage" is more accurately "the refuse of animals", "dung" or "poop".

All of these things may be true but my experience tells me that peppering one's language with profanity hurts relationships, especially if one is swearing at someone.  Swearing usually adds a jolt of emotion (usually negative) to a conversation or interaction that is draining, uncomfortable or painful to the listener in most situations.  There is a degrading and disrespecting quality to swearing at someone. In conflict, profanity usually amps things up rather than calming things down which is not conducive to making peace or bringing resolution.  Once you've said, "F--- you" to someone, you really can't ever unsay that.

Now that they are in middle school, my girls are discovering that there is plenty of negativity, anger and meanness in this world.  Using profanity just adds to it.  For Christians, Ephesians 4:29 advises,"Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear."  Also, the practice of self control is important to the life of someone who is wanting to emulate the God of love.  According to James 1:26 "If you think you are being religious, but can't control your tongue, you are fooling yourself, and everything you do is useless".  Another reason all this matters is that the words we use say a lot about what is in our heads. Philippians 4:8 says, "Whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things". As we think about what's right and pure, cuss words are not helpful.

Words are a very powerful part of creating the reality in which we live as human beings.  In general, we ought to try to make our words be edifying, positive, and gracious, for our own sake and for the sake of people who are hearing our words.

But, at this point, if my son wants to express himself by swearing when he drops a knife, I'm still going to smile.  

What are your thoughts about swearing?  Swearing and parenting?  Swearing and being a parent of a child with special needs?  Swearing and the middle school experience?  Swearing in a household with kids?  

School Pictures

Ok, you parents of kids with special needs out there, do you buy the school photos for your kids?  It's back-to-school time and I'm spending the evening doing paperwork that must to be turned into the school office by tomorrow.  Filling out the form for the school photo is giving me a moment of tension-filled pause.  I am finding myself wondering, "Do I really need to purchase school photos?"

The combination of autism, intellectual disability and visual impairment almost guarantees that my son's school photo will be seriously horrible.  School photo day is always a 9 out of 10 on the stress-o-meter experience for Josh.  The lines, the exhausted photographer, the bright lights, the demands to look in a certain direction; it's a recipe for disaster for a kid who has sensory issues and absolutely no motivation to smile.  I think that Josh's stress is only to be outdone by my level of stress when I get the photos back and I get to take a look at the snapshot that has been printed on the two 8 x 10's, eight 5 x 7's and 24 wallet sized photos that I had pre-ordered.  How can my incredibly handsome child look so . . .  special needs in every professionally taken school photo?

And yet, for the past 7 years that my son has been in public education, I have dutifully purchased the incredibly overpriced packages of school photos.  Did you know that this year "Package A" is $58?  If you combine that with an optional photo mouse pad, travel mug and "touch up" enhancement service, we're talking over a hundred bucks on a crap shoot of a photo.  Really?  In this age of digital cameras, do people really pay this much money for photo products which you have no option to preview before ordering?

Part of the problem is that the school photo order forms are sent home along with the back to school checklist and the emergency medicine form.  It's almost as if these are all absolute necessities for your child to be registered to go to school.  The assumption is that all good parents will collect and exchange school photos of their children throughout their years of schooling. And which elementary school parent in America wants to miss out on your child's class photo?  You feel like gotta have that unless you don't care about chronicling your child's childhood!

Well, my son is in middle school now.  There's no more class photos to be had.  I've spent all of the energy that I have for the evening writing this post and venting my frustration about the many years of uncute school photos of my extremely cute child.  I'm taking the plunge, people.  This year, I'm not going to order school photos.  I am relishing the prospect of writing one less check during this back to school season.  I'm trusting that the world will not end and that I will still be viewed as a competent, loving parent.  If you send me a school photo of your child this year, please know that I will not have one to give you.  But I am likely to be a happier, slightly less stressed person and so is my son.

I Don't Know How She Does It

I'm a busy girl.  This is a photo of one month on my dayplanner.  Scary, isn't it?  My husband calls it "scheduling in tongues" because it looks completely incomprehensible without supernatural interpretation.  We do use online scheduling tools and calendars as well but I still can't part with my trusty paper dayplanner to be the central management center for all of my miscellaneous appointments, to dos, and events.  And there are many.  Many.  Many.

For instance, in the month of March, Josh had 5 doctors appointments, 8 autism therapy appointments, 5 adaptive swim lessons, 2 med adjustments, 3 blood draws, 3 special consultations and 24 hours of respite care divided up into 5 sessions.  Many of these appointments were scheduled then rescheduled several times.  This doesn't include appointments and activities for my two other children.  But I did it because it had to be done.

Recently, several people who know how complicated my life is, especially because of Josh, have commented "I don't know how you do it!"

This reminded me of an excellent novel I read a few years ago about the complexity of motherhood by Allison Pearson called I Don't Know How She Does It.  It made me laugh and cry. I really related to the central character who lives an incredibly busy life juggling marriage, kids and job (getting very little sleep) and squeezing a million demanding things into 24 hours (and she doesn't even have a child with special needs!)

I've been thinking about the question, "How do I do it?"  How do I manage all of the really complicated demands, details and dramas of my life?  There are probably many answers to that question but, today, one thing comes to mind.  A crucial part of how I can handle my crazy, "mom of a multi-disabled child" life is that I have to have a a few places in my life where I allow myself to be totally weak and needy.

For example, every once in a while, I make my husband listen to me vent about how frustrated I am with dealing with dysfunctional organizations and systems that are involved in getting proper services for my son.  This conversation usually involves me expressing anger, critical thoughts and despair.  I cry.  My husband listens empathetically without trying to problem solve.  This usually helps me a lot.

I experienced another example of being weak this past Sunday at church.  At our church, we have something called, "prayer ministry".  This means that at the end of every service the pastor invites anyone who has a need for prayer to come up and stand at the front of the church.  You stand there facing the front, with your eyes closed and with your hands held out open in front of you and you wait for a person who is trained in prayer ministry to stand with you.  When the pastor closes the service, you sit down with that person who will listen to you for a few minutes then pray for you.

This week had been particularly difficult so I just knew in my heart that I really needed to get prayer.  I even arranged ahead of time for someone else to go pick up my kids from their Sunday school class so I could have a few good minutes to get prayed for.  I was ready.  But, wouldn't you know it?  This time, when the pastor invited people who wanted to get prayer to come forward, no one went up.  The whole congregation sat in the "one and half minutes that feels like an hour" time of waiting to see what would happen.  No one likes to be the first or only person who goes up front to get prayer-- all eyes being on you.  It feels like you might as well wear a sign on your back that says, "I'm the neediest person in this whole room!"  Plus, I happen to be the wife of the pastor of our church who happened to be leading this prayer ministry time so there's the extra feeling of a spotlight on me.

But you know what?  I just might have been the neediest person in the whole room.  I don't know what's going on in anyone else's life but I do know that there are burdens in my life that I just can't carry alone.  I decided to embrace the reality of my weakness.   I walked up to the front of the room and stood there declaring my need to God, to myself, and to anyone who might have been watching.  Thankfully, many other people followed.  Even more thankfully, I felt that God met me in a deeply comforting way as another woman from our church prayed for me.

I have realized that I have to spend a lot of my day being competent, organized, and strong.  Sometimes I can be in that mode for days on end.  Sometimes I can fool myself into thinking that I have to be like that all the time for the sake of my kids.  However, I am finding that the best way to be a strong person is to find the right, safe places to be a weak person.

When do you allow yourself to be weak?  Do you have places where you can take a risk to declare your need to yourself, to others and to God?