Thursday, November 19, 2015


I realise we’ve been on a blogging strike for over a month now, & considering the emails I’ve gotten I thought it might be wise to update the blog. Truthfully life has been crazy & busy with all sorts of stuff happening & by the time the day ends it’s all I can do to keep my eyes open to get in the bed! Needless to say blogging took a backseat, all though I told a friend I might consider blogging random photos with completely unrelated posts because I was even being slack on photo taking around here. She thought the idea pretty clever, but I’m afraid no random sharks or roos would stand still long enough for a photo.

We ended Term 3 with a delightful closure & soaked up every moment of our weeks off. Unfortunately, they weren’t all bliss as our youngest child witnessed something horrific that set off a bad enough anxiety attack we landed in the ER with him the night before Term 4 was due to start. It was a harrowing experience that I’d like to never repeat & the emotional roller coaster since has been even harder to climb.

It brought back memories of when our first born was quite sick & we felt utterly hopeless in knowing what was wrong or how to help him.. it makes you grateful for Drs who know what to look for & how to deal with the problems that arise, doesn’t it?

The emotional roller coaster we’re dealing with now is a pretty crazy ride, & I’ve never been one to delight in any form of a fair ride to be honest. He made some great progress in his first week of recovery while we followed out instructions, to a T, from the the therapist. However he had some setbacks due to a bully & an equally ugly situation at the park. It set us back in his second week & was so much harder to come back from.

I use to say, a lot, that I hid in the pantry when the kids were younger & hit major milestones. It’d go in there to have a cry then pop out again right as rain & ready to cheer them on, what a funny memory it was to think about while I was standing in my bedroom bawling like a baby while taking a moment for myself during this crazy crazy ride.

This has been a good week. A delightful week. A week in which we’ve been more protective then we probably needed to be of our child. He explained it best last night when he said, “My medicine helps my brain know that I’m not scared, but sometimes my insides still think I am. I hate that part because they won’t listen to my brain to be quiet & stop being afraid.” Then he danced off for a campout in the lounge room as happy as a lark.

It’s a journey, & one I wish we weren’t on, but we are & there’s nothing we can do but plod it together arm in arm. I’m grateful for family that understands we’re not avoiding them right now, but giving our child space to heal in. I’m pained when my son lashes out & screams, “You didn’t see what I saw!” I’ve stood there & cried right along side him while telling him he has every right to be angry & sad & every other emotion he’s dealing with all rolled into one. Life goes on, it waits for no one. 

I’m so grateful for a husband who whisks me away every morning & evening for a walk so I can pretend that life is perfectly awesome as the rising & setting of the sun. So we can laugh & share the highs & lows of our days. I’m grateful for a teenage son who willingly sits beside the bathtub to keep his little brother company. There was a time when that same teenager was just a preschooler & would intentional pinch or slap himself when baby brother cried. Why? Because when he’d say “ow” baby brother would roll with laughter.

These days they talk about all sorts of grown-up-ish things.. The latest item they are taking apart & putting back together.. I’m pretty sure it’s nerf guns this week because there are enough springs & screws all over the place to drive me batty. Yet each one is known & named & each altered device is preciously guarded lest someone should hurt themselves. There’s chatter of a robotics club they are looking at starting, & which character got the raw end in which book.. or the exclamation that everything bad happens in Kansas.

My youngest missed the memo about our beloved Paris, which we can’t help but say with our phoney French accent from our French studies this year. He knows something happened, he knows the country closed it’s borders & he knows that the world is right because the sun rises every day, but he can’t handle any more information then that. Not without a break down, or a set back. He holds on to the innocence the rest of us wish we still had in todays aching, breaking, & hurting world. 

Sometimes I envy that. The bliss. Then I am reminded to pray & my heart breaks all over again. For all the wrongs & hurts. For the lowly places so many are coming from & going to. For the depravity of it all. The loss of sanity & common sense while we all suffer the invasion of incomprehensible selfishness.

Then he runs through & squeals with delight about some new idea that’s brewing.. or the building excitement that his Cricket season is starting. Soon. This week. Then fear creeps in as he worries about all the strange people he’ll have to be around. If he’ll have enough power & energy to run without getting weak. He wonders how much fun he’ll have & what colour his team will be. He can’t wait to start, & for a moment he’s the same sweet boy he was before, even if just for a moment.

School carries on in it’s own strange way. We’re nearing the finish line here for the year, but math just won’t seem to go away. Or spelling. So we plod onward & upward despite the cries from one that math is a horrible awful enemy, nearly as bad as glue. Glue has been his mortal enemy since he could utter the words “mortal enemy”. I dunno why, the stickiness I guess.

He’s good at math & can do most problems in his head, but transferring it to paper discombobulates him. He’s being tested this week for Irlen/SSS. He’s excited & nervous. I agree with him.  His brother told him to stop fussing it’ll be awesome; at least someone is excited about the upcoming appointment! 


Butterfly said...

What a difficult time for you all. I can't begin to imagine what it's like, but wish you all well and pray for your son as he recovers from the trauma. xoxo

Joanne Ramirez said...

Im new to your blog. I only found it tonight and I have been on it for an hour already. Its wonderful. I am an aussie homeschool mum too. Just want you to know Im praying for your mummy heart and for your son. I know a little how it feels. My son is autistic and will often have panic attacks. At the moment it is all about police sirens. Makes for a hard night sleep when he hears them run down the highway.
All we can do is love them through this and pray for the strength to plod on. Its what we are called to do. Thank goodness it the end of term hey. Looking forward to a break.
Praying for strength and healing
Jo x