The Shriveling Sunflowers

Aaron had been wanting us to plant some sunflowers for quite some time.  This year I finally bought some sunflower seeds…..giant sunflowers, no less…..and while I was off to Houston to see Andrea in June, Gary and Aaron planted the sunflower seeds.  They rim our garden on two sides and have grown, and grown, and grown some more.  It’s been fun to watch them as they have progressed from little seedlings to what they are now.  They are indeed giant sunflowers, living up to their name as we hoped they would.

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One day, though, Gary announced that he would need to move two of the sunflowers.  That’s because those two thriving plants were in the way of the sprinkler head that Gary had installed in that front part of the garden.  I was tempted to say that we should just throw them away.  We had enough sunflowers and wouldn’t even miss those two, I thought.  But something stopped me from making that suggestion.  I also admire Gary’s care of our plants and animals, sunflowers included; so I just watched one day as he carefully dug two new holes, gently took those two intruding sunflowers, and placed them in their new locations. 

It didn’t take long, though, to see that this move had taken a severe toll on both the sunflower plants.  They were no longer standing straight and tall, but instead had drooped dramatically.  “They won’t make it,” I thought one day as I went to the garden to pick some produce.  “The change and the move was too much for them.  We really should have just thrown them out.”  You can see how pathetic they looked.

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I could have pulled them up right then and tossed them in one of our trash cans outside.  But again, something stopped me……and I’m so glad it did. 

I’m glad because in only six days from when I took those pictures of our very sad sunflowers, I again went out to the garden and was amazed at what I saw!  Look at this!

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Both sunflowers had grown!  They had not only grown, but they were each producing the beginnings of a sunflower BLOOM!!

Sure, they still looked a little worse for wear.  They still carried some scars from being transplanted.  Some of their large leaves were still wilted, and many of the damaged leaves had died, shriveling and brown.  But if I looked up above the evidences of their past stress, I could see life……new leaves, new growth, and definitely a sunflower bloom.

A couple days later the bloom on the sunflower at the end of the front row, the one that had looked the most hopeless to me, had opened even more.  Other sunflowers in that front row were now blooming as well, but this one had beat them to it and was holding its own among the taller, less damaged plants.  My miracle sunflower!

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Have you ever felt like life was going along just fine?  You enjoyed where you were…..what you were doing…..who was surrounding you?  But one day things changed.  Maybe it was over a matter of time, long or short, or maybe it was sudden.  But you found yourself transplanted, in a sense, from what you loved…..from what was comfortable…..even perhaps from people that you enjoyed being around.

When life changes like that and we are put into the unfamiliar or the unwelcome or the uncomfortable places, then it’s natural to shrivel up as we react to the shock of such changes.  We don’t have the strength on most days, we think, to continue on like others around us seem to do so easily.  Don’t they see our pain?  Don’t they feel our sorrow?  And even if they do, they really don’t……totally. 

But the real issue is our own adjustment to our new normal, trusting the One Who transplanted us in the first place.  Why did God think it was OK to yank us out of our growing place and put us somewhere else……somewhere that we never asked to be?  Yes, we said we trust the Lord and we trust His plan and all that, but we never dreamed that His plan would be so difficult.

Those sagging sunflowers had two things that I had not counted on nearly enough.  Roots under the soil, and sunshine up above.  The roots took hold, and the sunshine gave strength and growth, despite the trauma of being uprooted and replanted.   Those sunflowers had elements fighting for them that enabled them to eventually perk up and once again grow like they were meant to grow!

Moses looked at the children of Israel in the desert after they had just crossed the Red Sea.  They didn’t like being slaves, but this freedom business wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, either.  They had just seen God open the waters of the sea so they could cross over.  Moses then reminded them of a valuable, life changing truth.

“The Lord will fight for you, while you keep silent.”  (Exodus 14:14)

Oh, how many times I have doubted God and His plan in my life!  Or if I haven’t exactly doubted, I have deep down wondered about why I am where I am.  I liked where I was before.  I liked how things were going.  But this business of having God yank me out of my place I loved……even the place He had at one time PUT me……is not all it’s cracked up to be in all the sweet devotional books I have read.  It’s just hard sometimes…..and exhausting.

I have felt like my two sunflower plants sometimes.  Shocked……tired…..unhappy…..positively wilted. 

But what God told Israel……what He tells me……what He tells you……is still true, every single day.

He will fight for me.  There’s something to be said for being rooted in Him, and for feeling the warmth of His Word in my heart even while I’m trying to adjust to this new place.

And God doesn’t need me to do anything while He’s fighting.  Just keep silent.  “Be still and know that I am God,” David said in Psalm 46. 

My keeping silent is sometimes the hardest part of all.  I want to complain…..to question…..and most assuredly to suggest to Him a better plan.  A better place in the garden.  A better will for my life.

But He just wants me to zip my lips and watch Him take care of every issue and every concern and every worry and every frustrating moment and every sadness.  I think that about covers it.

And God will cover it, too.  He will fight for me while I am silent, watching and waiting for Him to take care of the battle.

Then one day I’ll notice something.  A bloom.  And some new leaves.  I still might feel some scars and see some not-so-pretty leaves, but I will see that I AM growing.  I AM still alive after all the stress.  Not because I am so strong, but because God is so able.

He did the fighting for me while I just did the lip zipping and the trusting.  I may never understand the reasons for all the upheaval, but I don’t need to understand.

I just need to obey, and then to enjoy the new life that God gives me.  New blooms…..new chances to thrive again……new experiences. 

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An opportunity every day to look past the stress and into the face of the One Who is fighting for me with everything He has……and that’s more than enough. 

 

 

 

A Little Understanding, Please

Behavior issues are perhaps the hardest part of certain special needs to handle and to understand.

He Said What?!

I shouldn’t have let Aaron go to his day group on Monday.  His mood was pretty foul at home, but he wanted to go and so I let him.  He only wanted to go because he knows that having a special meal on Friday night depends on him going to Paradigm every day.  Funny how these rewards can come back to bite me.  He was pleasant on the drive across town.  But the way he slammed the van door when he got out was a sign to me that it might be a rough day.  And it was.

I knew when I got the phone call from Paradigm that afternoon, and Barb said a quick hello before putting her phone on speaker.  That’s usually what she does when she wants Aaron to also talk, and wants him to hear me.  Aaron was…

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Lessons From the Garden Shoes

We had finally received some much needed rain here in this very dry and hot Kansas summer.  It was more than just a few disappointing drops, too.  We actually had enough rain to drip off the leaves on the trees and in our flower and vegetable gardens.  Enough rain that I had a reprieve from my watering duties and could let nature do her work for a few days.  Enough to more than just settle the dust – we actually had some mud amongst the vegetables.  The cooler temperature, the damp smell of the earth, and the grass greening up a little were all very welcome to every two and four legged creature around as well as to every struggling plant. 

I allowed a couple days to go by after the rains before I walked out to the vegetable garden to check on things there.  Sure enough, the rain had done her good work.  I stood there looking at the cucumbers, squash, and okra that needed to be picked.  Then I looked at the soil, still dark and wet from the recent moisture.  I slipped on my garden shoes and decided to give it a try.  Stepping over the wire fence, I gingerly put my weight down on the soil as I stood inside the garden.  Not too bad, I thought, and so I walked carefully over to the cucumbers to pick the ones that were plump and ripe.  Next, the squash – not many there but a few.  Time for the okra, in the very back of the garden.  As I walked I noticed that the garden was muddier than I thought.  “Well, I’m already in here,” I reasoned, and so I continued on.  It can’t be that bad.  But with each step I noticed that my shoes were feeling heavier and heavier with the buildup of mud, and I could see my footprints that I was leaving behind in the soft soil.  I told myself that I would get out soon, after I picked the okra, and so I trudged on through the mud.  When I finally stepped back out onto the grass, the bottoms of my shoes were covered in mud that needed to be cleaned off.  There was no mistaking where I had been, and the mark that my decision left on my shoes was messy and ugly indeed. 

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Our lives are full of decisions in so many areas.  Many times the way that we should go is very clear and other times we’re just not sure.  Whether it’s an actual place or event, or if it’s an attitude of the heart, our prayer should be as David’s was in Psalm 143:8 when he said, “……teach me the way in which I should walk.” 

Before we realize the danger, we can easily step over that fence and venture out into the messy areas of life or thoughts that will only mire us down.  What may have even appeared to be right or to be justified soon turns into a trap that weighs us down.  Wrong friendships or relationships; ungodly entertainments and activities; carnal or impure thoughts – all will leave a residue in our lives that builds up until finally we are having to bear the consequences of our decisions. Our friends and family can without doubt be able to tell where we have been because the effects are so evident in our lives and in our attitudes.

Thankfully, God will clean us up as we ask for His forgiveness but often we will still bear the messy marks of our decisions.  So the next time we stand at that fence in our lives and have some decisions to make, may we say with the prophet in Hosea 14:9:  “…….for the ways of the Lord are right and the righteous will walk in them.”  Show us Your ways as we seek Your face, Lord, and keep us from venturing out into the muddy messes that are all around us.

 

Be A Ladybug!

Every year, Gary and I enjoy our little garden.  No two years are exactly the same.  Last year, for instance, I was hauling buckets of summer squash out of there every few days.  This year, so far, we have had four squash.  Not four buckets.  Just four squash.  Pathetic, I know.

But we have had buckets of cucumbers this year, so that makes me happy.  A couple tomatoes here and there as they slowly ripen; one lone spaghetti squash that has survived so far; some peppers; and always, thankfully, lots of okra.  Okra seems to do very well in our hot Kansas summers, no matter where in the garden we place it or how hot our weather is.  Okra is certainly a hardy crop for the conditions in which we live. 

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There are other reasons that I could say our okra does so well.  One is the tilling that Gary does, such as you see in this picture I took one Saturday after he had worked hard tilling the garden.  I also hand weeded the areas where the tiller couldn’t go, so the garden looked all clean and beautiful for awhile.

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Then there’s the ingenious sprinkler system that Gary designed.  There are three sprinkler heads placed on poles in the front of the garden, and three in the back.  Gary measured for all the pipes that were needed, glued, dug trenches, rigged up the hose and the timer…..it’s really pretty amazing, if you ask me.  And I love it because it turns on twice a day and I don’t have to lift a finger! 

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We also had our soil tested last year, and it showed that our soil is healthy.  That was nice to hear.  I bought bedding plants at a nursery that I trust, and we added some fertilizer into the holes as we planted each one.  With all of these things that we did, our okra have thrived and we’re enjoying every bite of fresh okra from our garden.

But I left out one part of their success……..a very important part, though it comes in a very tiny form.  These:

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Yes, ladybugs.  Every time I cut okra off the plants that are getting taller and taller all the time, I see my little miniature friends.  I call them friends because they work very hard as they help insure the success of our okra.  Ladybugs eat aphids, and so without the help of these little spotted bugs, our okra just might not live.  And if they did live, they might not thrive.  I can’t really see aphids, but I know they are there, sucking the life out of the healthy plants.  So our ladybugs quietly go about their business, eating the dangerous aphids and tremendously helping to insure that we have lots of delicious okra to enjoy. 

Ladybugs are cute, but they’re not really visible from far away.  We see the sprinkler system doing its watering.

We see and hear the tiller digging up weeds, giving us the results of almost weedless soil.

 But ladybugs?  They’re unobtrusive and very little and hardly seen at all, unless you get right down there in the midst of the leaves and really look.

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I had a sweet little Grandma that I think of when I see these ladybugs doing their quiet but valuable work.  She was little in stature…..I definitely get my shortness from her!  Grandma Hollandsworth….whom we later affectionately called Grandma Holly, or just Holly…..lived with my parents for 14 years.  Therefore, I spent lots of time with her and knew her very well.

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One of the most precious memories that all of us have of Grandma, I know, is the picture in our minds of what we sometimes saw when we passed by her bedroom in the mornings.  She would be sitting at the long built-in desk that lined her bedroom windows, her Bible open before her.  Her head covered in beautiful white hair would be bowed, and she would be praying.  She told us that she prayed for all of her six children every day……their spouses…..their children…..their children’s children…..and on it went.  It was quite a long list, believe me!  She would also pray for many others who were not family, faithfully and persistently.

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When Grandma would be taken to see the doctor, she would sometimes have to wait to be seen.  The doctor would come into the exam room, apologizing for making her wait, and Grandma would just smile and tell him that it was all right.  She told him that she used that time to pray for her family.  She had such a sweet testimony of being a praying Grandma.

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Grandma died when she was 99 years old.  She was actually praying when she died.  She was, at that point, in a care home. Her roommate heard Grandma asking the Lord to take her home.  Then there was a sharp breath and Grandma Holly was gone to heaven, just like that……while she prayed.  How perfect! 

We have always said that the thing we would miss the most about Grandma was her prayers for all of us.  We won’t know this side of heaven just how impacting her prayers were in our lives, nor the impact that her prayers are still having in our lives and the lives of family members that she never even knew. 

Grandma didn’t make a big show about her faithful prayer life.  She definitely never bragged about it or tried to draw attention to herself through her prayers.  She just quietly went about doing what she knew God wanted her to do.  And she prayed because she loved Him and she loved all of us. 

Scan0005Grandma was like my little garden ladybugs, just daily doing what she knew was right.  I wonder what difference her prayers have made in so many lives……what fruit her faithfulness is still producing today.

The prophet Zechariah, whose name means ‘Yahweh remembers,’ was one of the prophets who encouraged the returning exiles in Jerusalem to complete the temple.  The people were discouraged as they compared the smaller, simpler temple they built to the grandeur of the former temple.  But Zechariah told the people in Zechariah 4:10 to not “despise the day of small things.”

“Not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit,” God said in verse 6. 

We tend to notice and value the big and the bright and the noisy.  But let’s not despise the small things……things like little ladybugs doing their work……things like a Grandma’s quiet but fervent prayers.

The smallest acts can produce the most beautiful fruit.

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Who Is Aaron Supposed to Be?

I love this picture I found on FB this morning. 

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Aaron certainly has opened our eyes to a whole unique and special way of viewing his world…..which becomes our world as Aaron pulls us in, willing or not.  It doesn’t matter to Aaron if I am busy or tired or embarrassed or if I’ve heard or seen the same thing a zillion times.  To him, each experience seems refreshingly new and fun and definitely shared.

Like yesterday at the grocery store.  I decided to run back to the produce section after I saw the pretty cantaloupes in a fellow shopper’s cart.  Aaron loves everything about the grocery store, except maybe for the aisle with toothpaste and body wash.  If you lived with him awhile, you would see that those items are not a priority or an interest of his.  Unfortunately.

Anyway, I was examining big round cantaloupes while Aaron was pointing out the cool, spritzing water that was spraying over the vegetables nearby.  You would think that this was the first time he had ever seen this gentle spray, but it isn’t.  It’s probably the 753rd time I’ve told him what it is, but he was as excited as if he was seeing it for the first time. 

I turned and headed for the registers after deciding against any cantaloupes.  I knew that Aaron was lagging behind.  I was already in the florist section when I turned to look for Aaron.  There he stood, large and loud Aaron, holding up an artichoke.  His face was just a huge smile as he held his prize up for me to see.  I had to smile, too, standing there among the sunflowers and daisies.  What is it about artichokes that always, always grabs Aaron’s attention?  We have examined them, cooked them, and researched them…..but still Aaron will find those artichokes and hold one up for me to see as if it’s the very first artichoke that we have EVER encountered. 

I smiled and then shook my head no as several surrounding people were turning their heads to see who Aaron was showing his artichoke to.  I could see them making the connection……wondering, I’m sure, about Aaron. 

Maybe if we all saw our world through Aaron eyes, we would smile more and laugh louder and keep our curiosity sharper, even as we age. 

So let me share with you a few snapshots of Aaron in his world.

Making a funny face while we played Skip-Bo, trying hard not to laugh:

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Putting a clothes pin on his earlobe, which is totally nothing new…..but you wouldn’t know that if you looked at how intense and serious he was on this night.

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Playing Skip-Bo, knowing that Mom is looking out with eagle eyes for his cheating attempts.

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Waiting for me to go through the Wal-Mart line, and smiling like this when I looked up and saw WHERE he decided to wait……the chair at the bank desk. 

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Noticing after he got his teeth cleaned that the digital clock on the counter was flashing.  “Your clock is destroyed!” he exclaimed as he pushed by his hygienist and tried to fix the clock.  Incorrect time is intolerable!

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Recovering from three strong night seizures.  We had to cancel his therapy appointment, which to Aaron meant cancelling our lunch plans.  I was nervous about taking him into a restaurant, fearing another seizure, so instead we went through the drive-through window at Little Caesar’s and got him pizza AND breadsticks.  He was happy.  I was happy.

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And finally, sunflowers.  Aaron has wanted sunflowers for such a long time, so this summer while I was in Houston to see Andrea, he and Gary planted sunflowers around our garden.  He has watched them grow and grow and grow, until now they are much taller than he is.  Now he can’t wait for them to bloom.  He was looking at the sunflowers one day when they were much smaller.  “When are they supposed to be the size they’re supposed to be?” he asked.

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I smile at the way he phrases things.  His unique way of expressing himself is a big reason I started this blog.  I can remember wondering, when Aaron was much younger, how he would turn out.  In a sense, I wondered when Aaron was supposed to be the Aaron he’s supposed to be – to borrow Aaron’s wording. 

Well, Gary and I pretty well know that Aaron is now the Aaron he is supposed to be.  Some days that can be discouraging, I’ll admit……on the seizure days or on the hard behavior days or on the days when we are tired and really don’t want to see another artichoke.  Yet Aaron is who he is supposed to be because he is who God created him to be. 

But God gives grace when we need it the most.  He really does.  I don’t think I even realize sometimes in just what forms His grace comes to me.  Yet I do know, often in retrospect, that making it through the frustrations……the fears……the failures…..is the hand and the grace of God upon us. 

And I am so thankful that God gives me pause more times that I can count……moments to pause and enjoy Aaron’s world through Aaron’s eyes.

So you see that the sunflower in the above picture is just too perfect.  Aaron is waiting for his sunflowers to be the size they’re supposed to be and to bloom.  Gary and I see that Aaron is who he is supposed to be, and that every day he blooms in our lives, teaching us to see the world through different eyes. 

I pretty well know, too, what Aaron would say if he looked at this sunflower picture.  “What?!” he would probably say.  “That sunflower is wearing shades!!”

Better to see you with, Aaron.  Better to see you with. 

 

 

 

 

My Mom is Weird!

I haven’t done much writing lately for various reasons, a big one being that I had thumb surgery recently.  This clunky splint makes typing a little difficult.  My immobile, fat wrapped thumb keeps wanting to hit the space bar, so now you will understand if you see unnecessary spaces here and there that I don’t catch.   The backspace key is my friend!

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Gary has been taking excellent care of me, and taking up the slack in areas that I still can’t manage.  Even faithful Jackson seems to have been concerned for me at first.  I think now he’s just used to the new me. 

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But Aaron…..dear Aaron……has mostly been worried about……Aaron.  Oh, he’s shown a little empathy.   That’s not really the right word.  He’s shown a little interest in my condition, but showing a great deal of care doesn’t come naturally to Aaron.  But the times that he does express care are special indeed.

He was very happy that he got to stay home on the day of my surgery.  “When you go to take your surgery,” he had asked the day before, “do I have to go to Paradigm?”  Gary and I were at the surgery center very early, so neither of us could drive him to Paradigm.  He loves staying home for whatever reason, so I think he was secretly happy that I had surgery because it did benefit him on that day.

He eyed my left hand suspiciously when I got home.  I knew he was uncomfortable so I just tried to act normal and put him at ease.  But when I laid down in bed in the middle of the morning, he was very uncertain.  He understood, of course, that I had surgery.  But he did not  know how my surgery would affect our normal routine……and therefore affect him, greatly.

I kept the bedroom door open as I rested in bed.  It wasn’t long before I heard Aaron walking up  the hall from his room to my room.  I just kept my eyes closed.  Aaron just stood at the bedroom door, not speaking, but I could feel him staring at me.  He stood there and stared for awhile before he turned and walked back to his bedroom.  He was exhibiting his uncertainty.

It wasn’t very long before I heard his familiar steps once again in the hallway.  He stood once more at my bedroom door for a few seconds.

“What’s for supper?” he finally asked.

I told him there was plenty of food in the frig to choose from so he could have his pick.  It wasn’t really the answer he had hoped for, I knew.  He thought something along the line of pizza or a sub would be far better.  My hand surgery wasn’t working to his advantage as much as he had hoped!

But he was very happy that Gary brought him a cheddar pasta salad when he went to pick up my prescriptions from Dillon’s.  This surgery might work out after all, Aaron thought.

And soon I heard him walking heavily up the hall again.  No need to walk softly when there are matters to address that are very important.  I just waited quietly while he stared at me. 

“Are you watching Wheel of Fortune?” he asked.

No asking how I was feeling.  No wanting to know if he could bring me something.  No queries about my surgery.  And no surprise from me.  Aaron was uncomfortable and he wanted Mom to be Mom again, surgery or not.

I told him that I imagined I could watch Wheel of Fortune.  Later that afternoon, I went down to sit on the couch.  Aaron sighed when I asked him to carry my pillows.  He was seeing that this surgery would take a toll on him and his routine after all. 

We watched Wheel of Fortune that evening, and Aaron was happy.  He didn’t seem to notice my pain pill drowsiness.  He was just very happy that we could have this normal part of our day restored.  He was not so happy, though, to hear that playing Skip-Bo was going to be questionable for a day or two. 

Later that night, Aaron walked with purpose into the kitchen where I was standing.  “Mom!  Here!” he said.  “I brought you something since you had surgery.”

Surprised, I looked in his outstretched hand and saw that he held two yellow gumballs.  He had gotten them from his jar of gumballs in his room.  Usually he tells me I can have one gumball, and on a rare occasion I can have two.  This gift of TWO gumballs, then, was a true gift from his heart. 

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I thanked him and then put them on the counter.  “No, Mom!” he said.  “Hurry and eat it before it becomes tomorrow!”

So I had to smile and I had to “eat” the gumballs immediately.  I didn’t exactly feel like it, but I did chew those gumballs until all the taste was gone as I relished the kindness that Aaron had shown in his own Aaron way.

Life returned to a measure of normalcy fairly quickly.  A couple days after my surgery I even drove Aaron down to Great Clips for a much needed haircut.  As we sat in our chairs waiting for his name to be called, I showed him how I was to exercise my fingers that were protruding from my splint.  I tried to be funny as I bent my fingers, saying “Up, down, out, in!” as I bent them back and forth.  I should have known that Aaron wouldn’t appreciate my humor.

“You’re weird, Mom!” he said.  And then he looked toward the hairdressers and very loudly said, “My Mom is weird!!  She had surgery and she’s weird!!”  What do you do when all eyes turn to you and your son?  Laugh!  And hope they don’t agree with Aaron!

Aaron has done really well with this whole “Mom had surgery and she’s weird and I want things back to normal” business.  He has actually been helping with carrying and setting the table and bringing in trash cans and other things, much more that I thought he would.  He had a very grouchy week at his day group last week, though, and I don’t know if all this was part of why that happened or not.  Sometimes we just don’t know with Aaron.

And we have been playing Skip-Bo again.  Gary shuffles the cards for us and off we go!  Aaron sometimes acts like his silly self.  See the clothes pin on his ear?

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But he plays with the intent to win, realizing that Mom still can watch for cheating even with a splint on her hand!

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The other night he once again strode downstairs to find me on my computer.  “Here, Mom!” he said.  “I saved this for you.”

I looked at his bowl that he held toward me and saw it.  One lone little fruit gummy for me to eat. 

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It’s not the size of the gift that matters, but the heart behind it.  It’s true not just for Aaron, but for all of us.  Sometimes I have to look hard for Aaron’s gifts, but they are there, sweet and honest.

Brutally honest sometimes (weird Mom!)………but that’s Aaron!

 

 

 

 

 

Our Nest

He Said What?!

I remember being pregnant with Aaron and hearing the term “nesting.”  I wondered if that phenomenon was really true, and later discovered that it certainly was.  I had the rush of energy and the desire to get our nest in order before Aaron’s birth – and he was three weeks early!  Interesting!

I find myself considering our nest again, but now on the other end of the spectrum.  Goodness, how time flies!  And now I sound old even in just saying those timeless words about time.  I don’t really feel old, but soon our nest will be a little emptier, and I know that the years have rushed by much faster than I ever dreamed they would when I was knee high in diapers and runny noses.

Tomorrow, barring any delay, Andrea will officially be moving to her new apartment.  She’ll only be an hour away but the distance isn’t what…

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