Our Thoughts and Prayers are with you, Oklahoma

Our thoughts and prayers are with the citizens of Oklahoma who were effected by the devastating tornado on Monday.

The tornado was an EF5 with winds measured at over 200 mph.
It was 1.3 miles wide and left a 17 mile path of destruction.
It is one of the worst in US history.

 

 

Several schools were destroyed during the storm, with 37 lost lives, some of them children

 

 

If you would like to donate to the victims of this tragedy,

please click on the link below:

 

http://www.ok.gov/okstrong/

 

We are with you Oklahoma

 

 

For those of you unfamiliar with US states:

 

 

Chore Delight

Lately, Nicholas wants to be a big kid.

He asked me if he could have some household chores to do, just like Weston.

Say what?

When we were searching for a new school for Nicholas, our advocate was unwavering in her desire to place Nicholas in a classroom with appropriate peers. She explained to me that he needed to be surrounded by children with similar abilities who would motivate him to learn.

I wasn't convinced. I was more concerned with finding an appropriate school and teacher.

Well, I must admit, our advocate was right.

I never knew just how right she was until now.

At school, there are several older boys and girls in Nick's classroom. They are very accepting and patient with Nicholas and his loving energy. He adores these children. They are mainstreamed into other classes for much of the day. When they do attend Nick's classroom, they enjoy helping the teacher with various classroom chores. Nicholas has noticed. He has begun to emulate many of their deeds, expressions and mannerisms.

At home, big brother Weston takes out the trash, clears the table, makes his bed and brings down the laundry. Nicholas has noticed this too.

He decided that like these older role models in his life, he is also a big kid and needs to have some big kid chores.

Without a doubt our advocate was right.

Nicholas is motivated by the older children in his life.

He is ready to mature to this his next level of development. Importantly, however, these new skills are achievable for Nicholas. They help him to feel like he truly belongs within this community. For Nicholas, this belonging and "ability to achieve" has helped alleviate his anxiety and create a deep sense of fulfillment and enjoyment of his life.

He is a happy boy, once again.

So, in an effort to help Nicholas develop more of these big kid skills, we talked about what he might like to do to earn his keep around the Peters' household.

He decided he would like to feed the animals.

Who am I to argue?

He began his new responsibilities last night. He gathered the food dishes and pulled the cans and dry food out of the pantry. I helped him open the cans, but that was it. He put the food in the dishes and distributed the tasty treats to the appropriate furry friend, one to our dog, Muffy, the other to Bandit, the cat.

I have never seen a child so happy to be doing a chore in my entire life!

I am hoping Nick's desire to be responsible lasts a good long while and perhaps rubs off on his older brother who definitely does not share in the "doing chores" enthusiasm!

And me? I am thrilled to have such a motivated and enthusiastic helper and pretty darn glad to have one less thing to do around the house!

Attracting Similar Energy

Weston had an appointment last week with his pediatrician. We have been visiting with Dr. George since Weston was first born. He has helped us to negotiate our way through sickness, health and a diagnosis of ADHD.

 

As I sat in the waiting room, I thought about how far Weston has come over the last few years.

Soon, a small boy and his mother arrived in the waiting room. The boy looked exactly like this....

  

 Weston at 2-years-old.

 

He was curious and active, wandering around the waiting room with his mother following closely behind.

"Hunter be careful," she said, "you can't put your hand in the fish tank."

He quickly turned and left the fish tank, heading, this time, to the bathroom where he began opening and closing the door.

"Hunter, don't slam the door," she said and gently lead him back into the waiting area.

I smiled to myself remembering when I too was chasing a little boy around the waiting room.

 

The boy spotted Weston sitting in his chair listening to music. He was mesmerized by Weston's presence and drawn to his energy. Like a moth seeking the warm light, he ran to Weston, placed his hand on his lap and tilted his head as if he was about to ask the surprised teen a question.

Weston was delighted by his attention. He showed the boy his ipod and asked him to push one of the button's. The boy smiled and began to hand Weston books and magazines from the table, eager for any response from the very cool-looking teenager.

 

 As I watched the exchange, it was almost as if Weston was playing with a younger version of himself. I told the new mother that it wouldn't be long before her son looked just like Weston.

The nurse came into the waiting room.

"Hunter?" she called and in a flash the little boy and his mother were gone.

"Aw Mom, he was so cute," Weston said, "It's such a bummer he had to go."

"You looked just like that when you were his age." I told him.

"I did?"

"Yep, you did."

"Mom, do you think he has the wiggles?" Weston asked.

"Well, I don't know but I am sure his Mom will be very happy if he turns out to be like you."

"I liked his energy." Weston said.

"Me too." I answered.

 

 

Dancing with Myself

For the past ten years, I have become so focused on caring for my children that I have completely neglected my own good health.

So, for the first time in a long time, I visited with my primary care physician. We talked for over an hour. She sat very quietly listening to me describe the unusually high level of stress that accompanies a lifestyle devoted to caring for children diagnosed with special needs. We talked about the emotional and physical toll it takes on a body and it wasn't long before she was completely speechless.

But my story seemed to motivate her into action and we devised a plan for my continuing care.

Unfortunately, it included several more of these:

 

I honestly believe I could wallpaper my entire home with the number of appointment cards I have collected over the past 10 years.

In an interesting twist of fate, I am the one who now has a long list of specialists to see.

My new job of caring for myself seems very strange to me. I keep looking in the backseat of my car to see if I have forgotten someone.

This new focus on myself, while strange and uncomfortable has also given me a renewed sense of freedom. I am beginning to find my old self once again.

I have been performing this medical dance with my children for so long that I feel almost liberated, like I am at long last......dancing with myself.

Nature Lessons

This little animal came to visit us this morning.

 

She stood in the woods, by the edge of our lawn. Muffy was on her leash and barking up a storm. But this gentle soul was curious and did not run away. I walked slowly toward her and took this photo. Muffy began to increase the intensity of her barking and as I spun around to quiet her, the deer turned and pranced away, her white tail bobbing through the forest.

The sight of her, took my breath away. The loud noise inside my head was quieted, my spirit stilled. I thought for a moment that she might let me pet her and I was tempted to follow her on her journey through the woods.

I believe in the interconnectedness of nature...that visits from wild animals who share our planet are not coincidental...that there is much we can learn about ourselves and the world if we stop and listen to the lessons they teach us.


"By observing the ways in which deer behave, it is possible to see what amazing qualities - or powers - they possess. From the deer we can learn that the gift of gentleness and caring can help us overcome and put aside many testing situations. Only love, both for ourselves and for others, helps us understand the true meaning of wholeness...

If a deer crosses your path, this may show you that you are a very compassionate, gentle and loving person. If you don't have these qualities, then consider if you have a problem that needs addressing. Are you facing a challenge in your life, whether with a fellow human being or a delicate situation? If you are feeling negative emotions such as anger, try letting go. Think about whether a gentler and more loving approach can sort the issue out. It may be necessary to speak the truth, this is best done with kindness and from the heart, this will generally give a better result...

Deer teaches us how powerful it is to be of gentle demeanour, to exert keen observation and sensitivity. Deer's are in tune with nature and all it comprises. They are sacred carriers of peace and show us how to open their hearts and love unconditionally."
By Ina Woolcott

What a Picture is Worth to Weston

Like most teenagers his age, Weston is all about the music.

But it is no longer just the catchy beat that captures his attention, he has found a powerful ally in the words and images of certain songs.

"Mom," he told me yesterday. "I would like to get a new t-shirt."

"OK," I replied, "we can go shopping tomorrow."

No Mom, you don't understand!" he said in his I can't believe I have such a annoying mother tone.

"I want to get a t-shirt with the Quiet Riot guy!" he said emphatically.

"Quiet Riot?" I asked "The guys that were popular when I was growing up?" I asked in disbelief.

"I don't know, but this is the picture on their album cover," he said and showed me this.

"Weston," I said, "that's kind of a disturbing image."

"No, it's not Mom." he said seriously.

True to my absolutely clueless mother colors. I did not understand. But I decided to probe my son further.

"What do you mean Weston?"

"Well, do you see how he's wearing a straight jacket?"

"Yes," I answered.

"That is how I feel."

"I'm not following Weston, can you fill me in?" I asked tentatively, careful not to close the door on my enlightenment process and the secret thinkings of my teenage son.

"Well, sometimes, no matter how hard I try, I can't control my body. Like in the morning, when I tease Nicholas, my hands seem to fly out on their own. If I had one of these cool-looking straight jackets, I wouldn't be doing that all the time. I wouldn't have to try so hard to control myself all the time."

I froze for a second while my heart dropped into my stomach.

Suddenly, I realized, what it was like to be diagnosed with ADHD. Weston's impulsive nature has caused him to be reprimanded both at home and at school for most of his entire life.

That this straight jacket should be like a Godsend to my son, made me incredibly sad.

I held it together though and continued to probe him.

"How about the metal mask? That looks kind of scary."

"No Mom, that's the most important part," he said, "that would help me to stop blurting and saying things I don't mean."

That was it, I had to leave the room.

I thought back to when Weston was in kindergarten where he collected more "blurt cards" than baseball cards. He was humiliated and constantly identified by the teacher, as the "bad" student who couldn't raise his hand.

"Weston, I said, Let's see if we can find a Quiet Riot t-shirt on-line."

I headed to the computer and performed more research into the band, Quiet Riot.

I discovered their biggest hit:

"Come on Feel the Noise" (not how the band spells it)

I was not surprised that my sensory sensitive son should be attracted to a song that talks about "physically feeling" music. And how to Weston, "loud noise" also helps him to be quiet.

Another of their hits is:

"Metal Health".........not "mental" but "metal" as in "heavy metal"

Some of the lyrics to this song........

"Well I'm an axe grinder Pile driver
Mother says that I never never mind her
Got no brains I'm insane
Teacher says that I'm one big pain
I'm like a laser, 6-string razor
I got a mouth like an alligator
I want it louder
More power
I'm gonna rock ya till it strikes the hour"

It is now crystal clear to this clueless mother exactly why this band and their music and album covers, resonate so vividly with my continually reprimanded child.

Weston no longer feels like he is all alone.

A while back, I wrote a post called; "Heavy Metal, an Antidote to ADHD" Click here to read it.

I am now convinced of the many therapeutic qualities this type of music has for a child diagnosed with ADHD.

Now, if I could only get ADHD experts like Ed Hallowell or Russell Barkley, to agree.

A Tribute to the Mindless Menace of Violence by Robert F. Kennedy

I was born and raised in the Boston area. It is my home.

I realize however, that it may not be your home.

I questioned whether the Hopeful Parents website was an appropriate place to express my thoughts on the Boston Marathon bombing. After much inner reflection, I realized that these recent acts of hatred and intolerance affect not just the folks who live in Boston, but all human beings on this planet who are devoted to the pursuit of peace.

When the seeds of intolerance were planted in Boston, a vicious cycle of hatred began to spread within our society. It wasn’t long before Internet chatter began to promote selfish discontent, minimizing these inhumane acts and fertilizing the cancerous spread of civil unhappiness.

If we are to end the vicious cycle of violence, then no matter where in the world these atrocities occur, we must meet violence consistently with solidarity and resistance, with our own personal acts of selflessness and compassion.

“Let no one be discouraged by the belief there is nothing one person can do against the enormous array of the world’s ills, misery, ignorance and violence. Few will have the greatness to bend history, but each of us can work to change a small portion of events. And in the total of all those acts will be written the history of a generation.” - Robert F. Kennedy

The evils of hatred affect us all, including our special needs community for it wasn’t so long ago on July 14, 1933, that the German government instituted the “Law for the Prevention of Progeny with Hereditary Diseases.” This law called for the sterilization of all persons who suffered from diseases considered hereditary, including mental illness, learning disabilities, physical deformity, epilepsy, blindness, deafness, and severe alcoholism. With the law’s passage the Third Reich also stepped up its propaganda against the disabled, regularly labeling them “life unworthy of life” or “useless eaters” and highlighting their burden upon society.

Hatred reared its ugliness again on April 15, 2013 when two bombs exploded during the running of the Boston Marathon.

To me, the Boston Marathon is a symbol of inspiration, courage and hope, an event where individuals strive to become better human beings. Many runners compete to commemorate loved ones or to raise money for incurable disease.

It is a sacred event.

The finish line is a place where many families and children gather to watch their loved ones return safely from their journey. That this should be the place where bombs were detonated seems particularly abhorrent to me.

I feel an incredible sense of sadness and loss.

I am sad to be reminded once again, that I live in a world where such reckless and unbridled hatred exists.

I feel a loss for the precious lives that were taken so mercilessly, an abominable side-effect of what happens when those among us hate.

It is interesting that the lives of the four victims of this barbarous act exemplified selflessness. Again and again, loved ones described Martin Richard, Krystle Campbell, Lingzi Lu and Sean Collier, as kind and peaceful spirits with a unique strength and a decency of the human spirit.

They remind me of another kind and peaceful Massachusett’s native who also lost his life by the cowardly hands of a violent other.

It is ironic that Robert F. Kennedy gave this speech on April 5, 1968, the day after Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated ….45 years ago….almost exactly to the day.

It is chilling how relevant his speech is to current events.

For those of you who do not wish to read, I have also attached a video below of his famous speech he entitled:

 

The Menacing Madness of Violence.

 “This is a time of shame and sorrow. It is not a day for politics. I have saved this one opportunity, my only event of today, to speak briefly to you about the mindless menace of violence in America which again stains our land and every one of our lives.

It is not the concern of any one race. The victims of the violence are black and white, rich and poor, young and old, famous and unknown. They are most important of all, human beings whom other human beings loved and needed. No one- no matter where he lives or what he does – can be certain who will suffer from some senseless act of bloodshed. And yet, it goes on and on and on in this country of ours.

Why? What has violence ever accomplished? What has it ever created? No matyr’s cause has ever been stilled by an assassin’s bullet.

No wrongs have ever been righted by riots and civil disorders. A sniper is only a coward, not a hero, and an uncontrollable mob is only the voice of madness, not the voice of reason.

When ever any American life is taken by another American unnecessarily – whether it is done in the name of the law or in the defiance of the law, by one man or a gang, in cold blood or in passion, in an attack of violence of in response to violence – whenever we tear at the fabric of life which another man has painfully and clumsily woven for himself and his children, the whole nation is degraded.

“Among free men, said Abraham Lincoln, there can be no successful appeal from the ballet to the bullet and those who take such appeal are sure to lose their cause and pay the costs.”

Yet we seemingly tolerate a rising level of violence that ignores our common humanity and our claims to civilization alike, We calmly accept our newspaper reports of civilian slaughter in far-off lands. We glorify killing on movie and television screens and call it entertainment. We make it easy for men of all shades of sanity to acquire whatever weapons and ammunition they desire. Too often we admire swagger and bluster and wielders of force; too often we excuse those who are willing to build their own lives on the shattered dreams of others…..

Some look for scapegoats, others look for conspiracies, but this much is clear; violence breeds violence, repression brings retaliation, and only a cleaning of our whole society can remove this sickness from our soul….

I have not come here to propose a set of specific remedies nor is there a single set. For a broad and adequate outline we know what must be done. When you teach a man to hate and fear his brother, when you teach that he is a lesser man because of his color or his beliefs or the policies he pursues, when you teach that those who differ from you threaten your freedom or your job or your family, then you also learn to confront others not as fellow citizens but as enemies, to be met not with cooperation but with conquest; to be subjugated and mastered.

We learn at last to look at our brothers as aliens, men with whom we share a city, but not a community; men bound to us in common dwelling, but not in common effort. We learn to share a fear, only a common desire to retreat from each other, only a common impulse to meet disagreement with force. For all this, there are no final answers.

Yet we know what we must do. It is to achieve true justice among our fellow citizens. The question is not what programs we should seek to enact. The question is whether we can find in our midst and in our own hearts that leadership of humane purpose that will recognize the terrible truths of our existence.

We must admit the vanity of our false distractions among men and learn to find our own advancement in the search for the advancement of others. We must admit in ourselves that our children’s futures cannot be built on the misfortune of others. We must recognize that this short life can neither be ennobled or enriched by hatred or revenge.

Our lives on this planet are too short and the work to be done too great to let this spirit flourish any longer in our land. Of course we can not vanquish it with a program, nor with a resolution.

But we can perhaps remember, if only for a time, that those who live with us are our brothers, that they share with us the same short moment of life; that they seek as we do, nothing but the chance to live out their lives in purpose and in happiness, winning what satisfaction and fulfillment they can.

Surely this bond of common faith, this bond of common goal, can begin to teach us something. Surely we can learn at least to look at those around us as fellow men, and surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind us the wounds among us and to become in our own hearts brothers and countrymen once again.”

 

 

It is interesting that the end result of this violence was the worldwide publication of Martin Henry's message of peace to the world.

 

 

I support his dream

 

 Perhaps this world is a world in which children suffer, but we can lessen the number of suffering children, and if you do not do this, then who will do this? - Albert Camus

Please click on the icon below to visit me today at Hopeful Parents

 

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To donate to the families who were effected by this tragedy, please click on this badge.

 

Ain't No Sunshine...

Last week was school vacation week. On Wednesday, Nicholas began to come down with a nasty case of the suds. He was coughing and sneezing. He had a sore throat and swollen glands. It is the worst I have seen him in a while. He has a weakened immune system so an infection that takes most folks a few days to recover, will take Nicholas a few weeks to feel better.

The kids returned to school this week. Nicholas, however, was not healed completely and missed the first three days of school. He spent much of that time in his pj's sleeping on the couch.

But the long rest did him some good and today he was filled with energy, ready to return to school to see his friends.

As I have mentioned in previous posts, transitions can be very difficult for Nick. I try to keep a happy spirit as we prepare him for his return to school. One of the daily vitamins I give to Nick is fish oil. Today, however, I used our last shinning gold tablet.

"Oops, looks like I need to get more fish oil," I said.

"You do?" Nicholas asked.

"I do," I answered.

"Can I have the bottle?" he asks eagerly. I smile to myself since my container-hoarding son already has a few hundred empty vitamin bottles stashed away in our living room.

I give Nicholas the bottle and he runs into the living room to find the yellow playdough. He begins to roll tiny balls of dough into the shape of a vitamin and plops them into his bottle.

"I need to give my son his fish oil," he tells me.

This is great. I think to myself realizing that Nick's substitute fish oil will be a helpful transition item for getting him back to school without a fuss.

"That's great Nicholas," I say, "I am sure Mok appreciates how well you take care of him. We need to show Alex and Sydney your new bottle of fish oil."

"Yeah," he says, and I am happy for the good start to our day.

 

Spring has taken her sweet time in arriving to the Boston area, but today she finally made an appearance, pushing out the cold air and bringing warmth back to our world.

As we approach the school for the first time in a few weeks, I notice the tiny blossoms on the crab apple tree.They have exploded in dabs of pink and purple pastel. The bright yellow tulips in front of the school have popped out of the ground like a choir of flowers, swaying and singing to the sound of spring. The school seems to be welcoming us.

The beautiful color returning to our environment does not escape my sensitive son's notice.

"Mom, look at all the pretty yellow flowers."

We park in our usual spot in front of the school and wait for Mr Doyle to arrive. In the meantime, the white school van pulls up behind us.

Alex, Sydney, Vanessa, Avery and Kaitlyn spring from the bus and surround our car.

"Nick, Nick," they shout. "You're back!" They bounce and bubble and scramble around him, happy to see their friend returning to school.

"Mr. Doyle, Mr. Doyle, Nick's back!" they sing as Mr. Doyle approaches our vehicle smiling with delight. Like the yellow tulips, this happy group also seems to be swaying and singing as they welcome their much-missed friend back to school.

Nick jumps from our vehicle and into the chorus of children.

Mrs. Gilbert, the school nurse, has just arrived and joins the welcoming party.

Mr Doyle explains how much the class has missed their mate.

"Alex must have asked me every ten minutes, when is Nicholas coming back?"

For me, one of the biggest challenges of being a special needs parent, is finding and building meaningful friendships for Nicholas with children who are his peers.

Last year, although his classmates had much affection for Nicholas, he was not invited to parties or play dates. There were many times when he had no one to play with on the playground. Like a much-adored classroom pet, he was loved and admired but often left alone in the corner of the classroom, not truly included as a participating member of the class.

As I mentioned before, this year, he is in a substantially separate classroom with several children who share his same social and academic levels. He will often come home and talk to us about these students, sharing the classroom's daily events; like when Kaitlyn didn't want to do her work or when Alex moved up a level in reading. These five students have become his world and today they were very happy to see him.

While I am thrilled with the progress Nick has made in reading and writing at this new school, it is the meaningful friendships and his new found freedom to work on these personal relationships that have made me the happiest.

As my son enters the school with his new friends, I hear him say,

"Hey guys, check this out!" He reaches into his backpack for his bottle of playdough-made fish oil.

He is so excited the bottle tips and the doughy yellow tablets fall onto the ground.

The kids scramble to help him collect his vitamins and they head off into the school talking about playdough and Mok and bottles of fish oil.

 

Ain't No Sunshine by Bill Withers

 (one of my favorites)



Dr. O and Inclusion

I would like to introduce you to Dr. O. This is the principal of Nick's new school. He is a kind and gentle man. But what sets this man apart from others, at least to me, is his ability to understand the meaning of the word "inclusion".

I believe whole-heartedly in leadership. I believe that those who guide us must understand the important responsibility they have of modeling behavior that exemplifies the spirit of human decency and respect for others.

My son, Nicholas is in a substantially separate classroom at his school, not because he is different but because he learns best in this type of environment. Unfortunately, this separateness can sometimes manifest, as a feeling by other students, that he is different. It creates an opportunity for others to exclude him, to forget that he is also a fifth grader, like any other.

Dr. O does not forget.

This is the opening ceremnoy of the newly constructed gym. All of the students were very excited to see it. Dr O was determined that Nicholas and his best friend, Alex would be included in this celebration.

Below, is a photo of Nicholas and his best buddy, Alex. You may remember from an earlier post, that they also spent time together in Dr O's office for swearing....and to tell you the truth, I do not know what made me happier, the time they spent with others in the gym, or the time they spent like any other child, being reprimanded by the principal.

Either way, they were not treated any differently.
Thank you Dr. O. for showing this school, what inclusion looks like.

No Place for Hatred

I was born and raised in the Boston area. It is my home.

To me, the Boston Marathon is a symbol of inspiration, courage and hope, an event where individuals strive to become better human beings. Many runners compete to commemorate loved ones or to raise money for incurable disease.

It is a sacred event.

The finish line of the Boston Marathon is a place where many families and children gather to watch their loved ones return from their journey. I have cheered many runners from this location.

That this should be the place where bombs were placed, seems particularly abhorrent to me.

I feel an incredible sense of sadness and loss.

 

I am sad to be reminded, once again, that I live in a world where such reckless and unbridled hatred exists.

I feel a loss for the precious lives that were taken so mercilessly,

an abominable side-effect of what happens when those among us hate.

Four people have died as a result of this violence, two women, one child and one young man. To me, the lives of these individuals exeplified kindness, peace and the depth of our human spirit.

 

Martin Richard, an eight-year-old child from Dorchester, Mass. was killed in the explosion. He was cheering for runners at the finish line with his family. His mother and sister, have also sustained serious injuries. Martin was a keen baseball player, climber, runner and was a member of Savin Hill Little League team. His family is beloved by their community where they contributed in many ways.

Krystle Campbell, a restaurant manager from Medford, Mass. was also killed as she cheered for friends at the finish line. Friends and loved ones describe her as a smiling, happy, youthful, and selfless person.

 Also killed while watching the race from Boylston Street was Boston University grad student, Lingzi Lu from China. She is described as sweet-hearted, passionate about the piano, and a stand out statistic student. She was a daughter who always made her father laugh.

The brother of slain MIT Police Officer Sean A. Collier remembers him as a person born to be a lawman, a person with a compassionate heart that drove him to help others, and a country music fan with two left feet who still managed to learn how to square dance.

My thoughts and prayers are with these families and all who have suffered by this heinous act.

I do not know that I will ever understand such violence.

"Hatred which destroys so much, never fails to destroy the man who hates, this is the immutable law."

Still, I am not comforted and pray that the minds behind this evil act can someday know sanity and peace.

But amidst the smoke and carnage, many heroes have emerged.

It is on these individuals, and the innocent victims, that I would like to focus my attention and my healing thoughts.

 

 

 

 

These are my heroes

To donate to these families, and others injured by these tragedies, please click on the icon below or visit: www.onefundboston.org.

 

It is extraordinary to me, that the final outcome of this hateful act was the worldwide publication of  Martin Henry's message of peace to the world.

 

 

I support his dream.