TALENT - PART ONE

My eight-year-old grandson, Nate, drew this picture the other day to go with a report that he is doing on Dr. Seuss.  It is obvious to me that this is talent.  He has been drawing this well for years--with either hand.  We are all pretty impressed.  Amazing.  Talented.  Gifted.  And guess what?  He came that way--straight from God.

Now talent is an interesting topic.  Most people--and I am one of them--are impressed with four main areas of talent:  art, music, sports, and academics.  Achievement in any of those categories means something to almost everybody.  If you don't believe me, just go re-read all of the Christmas letters you got which chronicled the accomplishments of your friends' children--you know, the ones that left you feeling like you were a failure as a parent because your children are so ordinary.  Have you ever received one that showcased obedience or compassion or brotherly love or my favorite:  common sense?

As a parent, I have tried to identify some talent or strength in each of my children in which to invest--so they could feel special.   I have studied them from infancy to find that spark to fan, hoping that in doing so, it would build confidence and give them a passion for something unique to them.  I secretly--or not so secretly--have wanted to find a hint of one of the top four talents. Unfortunately for them, my children don't come from overachieving, talented stock.  My husband and I are just average folks born to average parents.  We have average intelligence and average looks and average abilities.  We don't sing or dance or play an instrument or have a shelf of trophies for our athletic accomplishments.  We don't even hold college degrees.  Perhaps if a spark had been identified when we were younger, it may have been fanned into a campfire; but even with fanning, it would not have produced a forest fire. Average.  Straight from God average.

Regardless of our stock, I've enrolled my children in piano, drum, violin, and harp lessons.  I have signed them up for basketball, baseball, soccer, and dance.  I have even paid for art lessons.  And guess what?  Not a musician, athlete, or artist among them.  I have read the classics to them and paid for higher education and guess what?  They are not geniuses.  I  have  fanned--believe you me--and even threw in  some accelerant --and they still appear to be just like their parents:  straight from God average.

Or maybe not.

Perhaps God thinks things are special that the world does not.  I'd like to think that God has, in fact, gifted me and my family with talents--no matter how seemingly insignificant--to be used for His purpose.  And more importantly, I'd like to think that we are being faithful to Him with those talents.

As I ponder just what those are for my next post, I wonder if others have questioned God's sovereignty when it comes to His choice in gift giving.  I know that through my 33 years of parenting, there have been times when I--yes, I know it's horribly selfish--wanted more for my children than their heavenly Father has seen fit to give them.  I've wanted more for me as well. 

HERE COMES THE SUN

That's what I need in my life:  just a little bit of sunshine.

Florida, here we come!
--with the pirates and their sidekick

2004

Tessa, Nate, Ross

YOOHOO, REMEMBER ME?

I've missed my friends.

The juggler has dropped a few balls this month--and just when I thought I was about ready for my circus interview.  It has been crazy with extra hours at work, out-of-state company, tax preparation, and who can even remember what else.  February has been a blur.  I've been incredibly busy, but have had nothing worthy to blog about.  Nobody out there is really interested in school accreditation, tax record organization, or the family dinner from hell.  Well, maybe somebody would be interested in the last one, but I can't really go there for many reasons. 

In the midst of the craziness this week, I was able to carve out time--believe me, this was in the miracle category--to meet with local bloggers for lunch.  I needed the distraction and the fellowship and am thankful to Patty for organizing it.  I do realize that Blog World friendships, although extremely important to me and fulfilling, are no replacement for the occasional hug around the neck in real life.  Edie is always good for a hug.

This would be a good place to include a photo from the lunch, but then that would mean that I would have had to take my camera.  That's right, I was busy juggling and couldn't carry it.  There were two folks in the professional photographer category there (Patty and Jessica), so any photo I might have taken probably would not have compared; so when they post about the get-together, I'll just link up.

What I took away from our lunch was that everybody has something to share--whether you have blogged for five years or five months. I about got giddy when I was able to add the link to Patty's blog to my dashboard reader.  It was so simple, but I had no idea that it could be done by pasting the link in.  Thank you, Kim, for that little tidbit of information. 

I have also learned so much lately from my youngest daughter, Tessa, who now has, I think, three blogs.  She has made headers and buttons and tabs and scrolling messages.  She has connected with other young ladies and now participates in an online book club and a group writing project.  I am truly blessed to get to share one of my passions with this incredible daughter.  And I think it is pretty neat that she invites me to read her diary (blog).  Not so long ago, we hid these from our parents.  But then not many of us had a juggler for a mom.  That must seem cool to her, right?

DISCLAIMER TO RANDOM POST

I about died laughing when I read the comment on my previous post about leaning to ski.  I guess I should have written NOT learning to ski.  This week, in addition to pouting about not going to Blissdom,  I was mourning things that I will never get to do in my life--being old and all.  One of those things is learning to ski.  I did go once in the olden days of high school, but that does not constitute learning to ski.  Too bad for me.

Three years ago this April, I had surgery on my foot after being rewarded for my gift of sarcasm in New York City.  Yes, that was quite a reward, and it should have curbed my sarcasm forever and ever.  Maybe I should have this photo framed as a reminder.  That just may do it.

Back in 2005 while we were visiting NYC on the day after Thanksgiving ( I don't advise picking that date if you have a choice, btw), my husband just about flipped when he saw the FOX News building up ahead.  Let me just say that he is a huge fan of FOX News--me, not so much.  And I, in my enthusiasm (for him), began walking quickly while screeching, "Look everybody, it's FOX News.  Hurry, hurry, hurry, we wouldn't want to miss seeing FOX News.  blah, blah, blah."  And simultaneously, I was grabbing my camera out of my pocket in the 11-degree weather and that's when it happened.  I stepped off of the curb (quickly because that's what you do when you cross a street in NYC) and fell out of my clog-type shoe into the path of oncoming yellow vehicles.  I wouldn't advise that either.  I not only fell, but I also knocked poor Tessa down with me.

Just think about what your response as a caring family member would should be.  My son, Ryan, was horrified and began telling me to get up.  I think he mimicked me with that "hurry up, hurry up, hurry up" screech.  Tessa began to cry.  And everybody else just about died laughing.  I rallied enough to get the picture below (for him) before I hobbled inside to the building's cafeteria and applied ice to my foot which swelled up pretty quickly.  Nobody really cared because some idiot  attractive woman with bare legs and stilettos from FOX was spotted.  Don't ask me because I don't watch FOX News.  Surprise.

You may not realize this, but it is not really convenient to get injured in NYC.  I did not see even one walk-in clinic or any crutches for sale in the store windows.  I did, however, see tons of stiletto heels, which I knew even then, would have no future with me.  And since I didn't want to ruin anybody's fun, I just sucked it up and continued on.  That was smart.  And being a tightwad, I put off surgery for a year and a half.  That was smart as well.  I think that sounds sarcastic, don't you?

So I spent my 50th birthday on crutches as well as several weeks past that.  And then I got to wear a lovely blue shoe.  And let me tell you that surgery does not solve all of your problems.  It just changes them.  I am thankful that I can now at least wear a shoe.  Too bad that shoe has to lace up and contain an orthotic.  Yep, no cute flipflops or heels for me.  And no ski boots.  I suppose the moral of the story is to try to curb the sarcasm while you are in NYC.

celebrating Kenzie's birthday (same as mine) at Build-a-Bear with crutches

celebrating 50th at school with all the children

If that was not enough, two years ago while visiting in the north again, the day after Thanksgiving, on our way to IKEA--I am seeing a pattern here--we were hit from behind by a tow truck.  Nobody laughed that day.  Of course, the four children in the back seats, covered with shattered glass and screaming, kind of dictated the response.  Praise the Lord that we all walked away--in the cold--from that accident.  I suppose I should be thankful that I am just a chronic pain sufferer instead of having to mourn the loss of one of my loved ones.  And I am. It does help put it in perspective as I write it, but my back pain is so frustrating.  I am a doer, and I had so much more in life that I wanted to experience--skiing among them.  

Between the back and the foot, I am very limited on what I can do--strong drugs are not an option.  It doesn't help that all my blogging buddies are over-achievers when it comes to DIY projects.  How I wish that when I was in my prime--moving upright pianos and wood cook stoves, single-handedly, to paint under them--Blog World had been settled.  Then I could have posted all kinds of photos that would impress people.

And it doesn't help that most of my IRL friends are fitness buffs.--working out and running marathons and such.  Now, I have never been into fitness--good grief, I have always driven to the mailbox--but I might enjoy tap dancing or kick boxing or skiing.  And please, don't suggest Wii Sports.  I've tried that.  No, not for me. I just can't be laughed at that much by my family members.  I have not recovered from the first round of laughter at my expense.  I will now put on my Asics with orthotics and go to work--a desk job. 

QUICK VISIT

On any given day, a zillion ideas for blog topics pop in my head.  Unfortunately, there is just not time to actually write about each one.  I feel good if I get something substantial written once a week.  This week that did not happen, so I am feeling a bit stressed.  I am, therefore, going to post ten interesting or not-so-interesting things that randomly pop in my head as I type.  Just because.

1. I have avoided Blissdom posts because of sheer jealousy.  I couldn't go this year, and  I am still pouting.
2. I have booked my spring break get-away to Disney using Disney dollars.  I even booked a room for Kelly and family.  And we're meeting tons of friends there.  Well not tons, but seven or ten or so.
3. I am loving the book Ishmael that I received for a gift at Christmas.  That algebra tutoring was sooo worth it.
4. I am overwhelmed with what God thinks I can accomplish this year at school.
5. I have been invited to join local bloggers for lunch!  Edie will share about Blissdom, and I will pout some more.
6. I am almost done with my bathroom redo.  Can I hear an amen?
7. I am sick of paying for dance lessons only to have them canceled because of  the possibility of snow. 
8. I am going to be a grandmother again.
9. I am enjoying another season of American Idol.  I do not miss Paula.  I will miss Simon next year.
10. I am going to finish that map bird and mail it to the winner from Funky Junk by this weekend!  Promise.

Cardinal by Nate, Age 5

Wow!  That was pretty random.  Be glad that I omitted the post about the local meat market and learning to ski.  Yes, I did sneak in the big announcement.  Subtle, eh?

MY OWN LITTLE CORNER IN MY OWN LITTLE WORLD

I'm always a day or a week late to the party over at Funky Junk. She recently did a take-your-blogging-buddies-to-work post. That was fun. While most of us will never get to paint a firetruck as she did, at least some of us will get to dress like a fireman at work. Nananabooboo.  Is that how you spell that?

When I am not cooperating with the training on the highly-technical sprinkler system, I can be found right in the middle of the mess below.   It actually does look worse in pictures.  I should have tidied up first.  Let me just say that I am highly productive most of the time at this desk.  And every now and then, it slows down enough for me to organize it.  It hasn't been now and then for a long time though.  Actually I have two desks to keep neat at this time. 

Oh, you can see the second desk right there past the three filing cabinets.  I can just roll in my chair back and forth, back and forth.  Fun.

Even in the chaos or should I say especially in the chaos, I must have my happy places.  One is in my rolodex.  It is a very happy place for me.  Not only does it contain everything I need to know at my fingertips, it also makes me smile.  That is important at my job.

Anytime I am bored--which is never--I can just flip through and find a great thought or quote.  I can also find the number for the fire department--just in case the sprinkler training does not pan out.

There is also something fun and comforting about running my mouse all over the faces of my grandchildren and daughter.

And what would a home away from home be without a potted plant and a famous bird?  Nothing, I say.

And finally, this about sums up my attitude when visitors come by asking for something. 

Oh, and one more thing that is plentiful around my place of employment--kids, lots of them--even right there under my feet.

ADHD - TAKING ANOTHER RISK

You might have noticed that there are a lot more before photos on my blog than after.  There is a good reason for this.  It is because I am married to a man with ADHD.  Seriously.  I kid you not.  And as funny as this post may turn out to be, sometimes it is just not that funny in real life.

There was a time when I wondered what made someone think like my husband does  or more importantly, do the things he does in the order in which he does them--or not.  There was a time--not so long ago--that I  took the things he said and did way too personally.  That was before I read the book, Driven to Distraction.

Now that I know for sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he does, in fact, cope with this disorder every minute of every day, I am nicer to him.  I think.  At least I try to be.  I am telling you that it is not always easy. 

For instance, last Sunday, Michael and I were having a conversation.  That in itself is rare because of our schedules and his disorder--I didn't call it that, it just is.  He mentioned that "one of these days" he was going to build a shed in the backyard.   He was going to build a shed because he is going to turn the garage into an apartment.  Note here that there already is a vacant apartment above the garage that is in need of some work.  The *new* me showed a small amount of interest--not really excited about it and not really against it.  I know the effect of both extremes.  I was trying to keep the conversation going while keeping my *real* opinions to myself.  As if he didn't already know them.

When we were finished talking about the shed that would *someday* be built in the backyard, I understood *someday* to mean when he had all the materials (which we can't afford right now) and the jobs that were already started around the house were completed (ceiling, bathroom, hole in wall, the rest of the shutters, etc.). 

On Monday, I came home from school to this:

This is exactly what ADHD looks like.  I hope you are laughing.  I think it will help me if you do.  I am told that these walls have been built for some time and stored in his shop around the corner.  He knew very well that *someday* would be sooner than I thought.  And therein lies the frustration.  Throughout the entire conversation, he knew the walls were already built.  That would be because he had built them--instead of finishing the ceiling or bathroom or hole in the wall or whatever else he had started.

And that is just the way it is.

Day in and day out.

Year in and year out.

And hear me when I say that I know that it is not personal--even when it feels that way.

 I am not a professional and cannot begin to explain the disorder the way the authors of Driven to Distraction do, so get the book if you live with or know someone who copes with this.  It is chock full of personal stories and insights that will help you cope with it as well. What I can do, though, is share some of my personal experiences in hopes of encouraging others to make an attempt to understand it better.

I want you to know that I did not get mad or even upset on Monday when I saw the new construction started at my house.  I actually laughed and grabbed my camera.  To me it is just one more confirmation of the diagnosis.  And that diagnosis is no worse than diabetes or near-sightedness or high blood pressure.  They all require something to help the person survive and thrive in this world.  They are conditions or disorders--but unfortunately, the last three are more scientifically understood and therefore more respectable and able to evoke understanding and compassion.

I intend to tell just a few personal stories about living with ADHD over the next few weeks, but today I want to start at the beginning. 

I have often wondered why God called me to work at Cornerstone Academy.  I had been a stay-at-home mom and was not really looking for or wanting a job outside of the home.  I had homeschooled for 14 years and would have been quite content to do so until Tessa had graduated.   While I do believe I am appreciated and needed at the school, I honestly think that one of the main reasons God called me there was to show me  what my husband's world looks like through the life of a little girl.  I will from here on out refer to her as LG for little girl, and  although I may include random photos of the students for interest, she will remain anonymous. 

I knew LG before she came to the school, and I genuinely liked her.  You might say that I had a soft spot for her.  She was just a little girl--with a sweet face and a big smile.  Yes, I knew her reputation: impulsive and energetic and talkative.  So?  To me that made her interesting.  Of course, I had never seen her in a school setting.  I really didn't have any idea.  It was a good thing, because I loved her before I knew what she was capable of or incapable of as it turned out to be. And I loved her family as well.

LG motivated me to research ADHD--a disorder that up to this time I kind of pooh-poohed.  After watching her struggle and witnessing what  were very appropriate consequences again and again for her actions, my heart broke.  They rarely helped the situation or changed the behavior.  I wanted her to succeed, and I made it my personal mission to help her succeed.  In doing the research, first online and then through books like Driven to Distraction, I unlocked the mystery of my own family.  It was quite clear to me after just the short online test, that my husband had severe ADHD and my son, ADD.   Yes, I know that an online test is not a professional diagnosis, but stick with me.  My son actually was ecstatic to learn that just maybe there was an explanation to why he had focus issues.  If I had only known sooner, perhaps I would not have taken all his resistance in high school so personally.  But that is another story.   

What God revealed to me through the process with LG was that at one time my husband was just a little boy with a sweet face and a big smile.    At one time he was just a little boy who was impulsive, energetic, and talkative--a little boy who deserved to be understood and loved.   He didn't understand why he did the things he did any more than LG understood why she did what she did--again and again.  And that changed the way I looked at him as an adult.

In the case of LG, I took a big risk when I approached her mother with the information that I had learned.  Armed with just one quote from the book, I prayerfully, presented my case in hopes of encouraging her to get LG whatever she needed to succeed--eyeglasses so to speak.

"They don't inhibit their impulses as well as other people.  They lack the little pause between impulse and action that allows most people to be able to stop and think."

 

In her mother's defense should you be inclined to judge, she had been told by *professionals* that LG's problems were discipline-related.  Don't get me going on that one.  Discipline was being consistently applied, and it was not working.  All were miserable--including me, and she wasn't even my child.  Let me just say that you cannot spank ADHD out of a child.  You cannot time-out ADHD.  You cannot withhold anything that will make ADHD disappear.  You just can't.  Yes, I know I'm not a professional.

I also shared a specific incident with her mother that I had witnessed, and I encouraged her to read more and seek  another professional  evaluation.  She agreed to read and pray about it.  I will include the incident here just to show you what I am talking about.  I was observing a class in which the teacher was having the students glue beans to a surface.  She explained what they were going to be doing and then specifically told them what they were not to do with the beans.  LG was engaged in the activity and was enjoying herself.  This was, after all, a hands-on project that would normally appeal to a person with ADHD.  Out of nowhere and unprovoked in any way, LG picked up a bean and threw it in the direction of the teacher.

Since I was nearby, I asked her with my eyes about bugging out of my head, "What were you thinking?"  To which she replied, "I don't know."  She looked as shocked as the rest of us.  And I do believe it was totally  sincere.  The thought went through her mind after the teacher said it, and then--lacking the pause between the impulse and the action--she threw the bean.

Imagine how a child feels when she receives a consequence for something that she doesn't have any control over.  Imagine how you would feel.  I go back to the eyeglasses.  Why do we think it is okay to give a child with vision problems the tools for success, but we don't give the child with attention and focus problems the tools for her success?  Can you tell this is my bandwagon?

Let me wrap this up by telling you how the story ends for LG.  Mom and dad took her to another professional and received an official diagnosis.  It was difficult--very difficult.  It was also freeing.  I cry as I write this because today, LG is experiencing greater success because she has been  given the tools she needs for that success. And when she struggles, the first question isn't what consequence should we give, but are we sure she has what she needs to succeed in the situation.  That does not mean that she doesn't misbehave; she is, after all, still a child in need of much training.  It does mean that she is no longer punished for her disorder.  And that is reason enough for me to rejoice in my calling to Cornerstone.

SNOW

It snowed in East Tennessee today--not a lot, really--but more than it has in about seven or eight years. You would have thought by the news coverage that we were preparing for a natural disaster. I know, I know, it's the way it is done in the south. I can still laugh, can't I?

I love snow, by the way.

Because it doesn't snow here much, we don't invest in *proper* outerwear.  By proper, I mean outerwear that actually coordinates.  The boys are not all that happy about having to wear Tessa's hand-me-downs.  And I think that Tessa has on my boots and Kelly's pants and gloves.  It's all good.