Ironic

  

After a very eventful trip to Walmart the other night I did a lot of reflecting.  I'm going to share three of the awful experiences I've had having a daughter with a handicap.  I want you to see if you notice what I noticed.  (Don't worry I will share my reflections at the end.)

     The first one that comes to mind is.  About 4 years ago already I grabbed Breanna from daycare and went to Yankton to do my weekly grocery shopping.  It had been a long day in the classroom and she had had long day as well.  Along with something I figured out on another trip, but that doesn't weigh into the story.  I was trying to get through Walmart as fast as I could and Breanna was having a fit, screaming about something in the cart.  I was pushing her through the store getting stressed myself and her screams were getting louder and louder.  Suddenly a woman on one of the store's electric carts, wheels over looks Breanna in the eyes and says, "What the he## is  your problem."  In an action that would make my Mother proud, I pushed Breanna away from the lady and didn't say anything.  (If you have nothing nice to say don't say anything at all.)

     The second incident I want to share with you actually happened at McDonald's.  Tom, Breanna and I were in McDonald's trying to get her through a meal IN the store rather than our van.  She was doing really well and the store was full of elderly men and women.  When Breanna finished she started signing "all done" and the screaming soon followed when we didn't leave fast enough.  Tom and I were trying to eat as fast as we could and get Breanna out of the store.  These two elderly women started whispering and looking at us.  It didn't take me long to realize they were talking about us.  Soon their comments got louder so I could hear them.  By now I had gotten my back bone and looked at them and calmly explained she has Autism and this is her way of telling us she is finished and we need to leave.  We then finished our meals and left.

     The last incident happened just this week.  Once again we were in Walmart, our home away from home, and it had been a long day for everyone again.  Breanna was once again upset, still haven't figured out why, and screamed through the store.  (Let me explain that I have finally led myself to believe that it is a BIG store so her screaming only bothers a few people close to us.  LOL)  I went to check out and she LOVES putting her hands on the belt that carries our items to the cashier.  This cashier was a gentleman who was sitting on a chair as he rang us up.  He was finished totaling my bill and shut the belt off.  Breanna has watched how this is done enough that she knows how to turn it on herself.  Most cashiers will just leave it on and finish with us then go on.  Not this gentleman, he turned it off.  She turned it on.  He turned it off and glared at her.  She turned it on and smiled.  He turned it off and I thought he was going to slap her hand, but he didn't.  I told her to sit down in her chair and wait for mom to finish, which she politely did.

     Have you figured out what is alike in all these stories?  Upon reflection I realized that all those who showed disgust at Breanna were themselves handicapped.  Ironic isn't it?  You would think that the people who suffer hardships themselves would be the most compassionate, most understanding, most patient.  I'm not finding that to be the case.  I'm not an expert at reading people, but can't help but wonder if there is some anger within them because of their own disability that they don't feel sympathy toward others with problems.  (Does that make sense?)  I've even seen teachers who have handicapped children be the least compassionate to handicapped students.  I can't put my finger on why, and hope that I'm not one of those people.  I pray that my experiences with Breanna have softened me to be the compassionate, loving, patient person that I would hope others with my experience would be.  It frustrating enough to not be able to finish things in public due to melt downs, I really hate having to worry about what others are thinking.  It can get one down if you let it.  It's just crazy.

     I just had to share what I've noticed.  I pray the whole world won't be like this to my family, especially my children.  I pray that Breanna and Reid will grow up to be more understanding and patient with others.  I pray that some how these three people will find a softening in their heart to be more understanding, more compassionate, more gentle.  God be with all of them and all of you.

Fairness

     I know interesting topic.  I will see if I can do it justice.  We have all had a little one at some time tell us, "That's not fair".  One of my students told me her dad always said, "You get what you git and you don't throw a fit."  Easier said than done.
     When I took my Special Education classes the instructor told us, on more than one occasion, that if someone says "that's not fair" we are to remind them that we all get what we need to succeed.  Some of us need crutches, some need glasses and some need more drastic things like wheelchairs and oxygen tanks. I know if I HAD to use a wheelchair, even though I don't NEED it, it would drive me nuts.  I would think to myself, "Why can't I just stand up go to point B?"  But I STILL find myself saying to God, "It's not fair!!!"
     It's days like today that make me cry this out to God over and over.  We had a family gathering and for some reason Breanna was not happy.  So she grabbed my hand and wanted to go sit in the oven, I mean van.  I redirected her several times, but she was having nothing to do with it.  I had a few stops to make in town so we left and came back.  "This is NOT FAIR"
     Upon arriving I told her we were going to go swimming.  (She LOVES water.)  I hauled all of our stuff to the bath house to change.  I dressed both of us got her in the water and a relative calls out, "OK kids let's get out so we can go."  She knew the voice and she was done.  SIGH  "This is NOT FAIR"
     I changed her back into regular clothes and she pulls me right back to the van.  So I sat in the oven, I mean van, watching the family interact, laugh and enjoy each other's company.  "This is NOT FAIR"
     I often find myself sitting back and watching, don't worry I've had plenty of practice with this even before Breanna so I'm an expert at it.  That  doesn't mean that I enjoy watching.  Let's face it all anyone wants is to belong and to feel wanted and/or missed. ( I think that is what is driving me more and more to write this blog, I feel that I am talking to someone.)  And sitting on the outside looking in  more than being on the inside makes me cry out "This is NOT FAIR".
     I don't understand, and don't think I will understand until I stand before God, how this is FAIR.  How this is either the glasses, or wheelchair, or oxygen tank I need to get through this world.  I have lost track of or lost close contact with some very dear friends since we cannot go out as a family.  I feel alone in this big world A LOT.  I'm tired of swimming around crying "This is NOT FAIR" but it's the life I've been chosen to live.
     Jesus didn't use those four words but he did try to understand more, and get out of dying for us in the Garden of Eden before he was crucified.  He knew why it had to happen, yet he cried out His own version of "This is NOT FAIR".  
     I know I can't walk away from this burden, but I often feel that the weight of the world is on my shoulders.  I just look into that beautiful face of my amazing daughter and think "this is not fair" that I can't remain mad at the situation and I carry on.  After all it's not fair for me to give up on her.

     

I'm Worn

         I have started this blog so many times.  Many times I have erased and started over.  The last thing I want is anyone to feel sorry for me or feel I'm a whiner.  (Although at times I know I am.) But now that I've been home and the life of "I have to be home in time for Breanna" is really setting in, I'm becoming worn out.  On the weeks/days she has school she is picked up anytime between 8:30 and 9:00 depending on how long it takes to load the beautiful little girl that rides with her.  Then she arrives at home between 3:15 and 3:30.  So to go anywhere and do anything is stressful. 

    "I can't go here because it will be ____ before I even get there then I have to leave at _____ to get back for her." 

    "If I go here I will have time to do______ and not do _____."

     So I haven't really be able to have any "me time" outside of my hour in church at 11:00 at night on Fridays.  I'm beginning to feel it too.

     I needed to go to Sioux City to get shoes for Tom and other items for projects around here.  Miss Breanna has been a one stop, shop, and go home, kind of kid.  Thus WalMart and I have become best friends.  Well, Mom and Reid pushed that limit to the max Saturday.  We went to the mall, which alone is a stressor, where she flapped her way down the hall and back.  She was so good I stood at the treadmills for 5 minutes, ignoring the sign to not let children play on them, while she worked hard on trying to move the belt on them.  She wouldn't move to the next one until she made the current one move.  She's determined and stubborn.

     Next we went to the shoe store for Tom's shoes.  I knew the moment we walked in this may be a problem.  The smell of all the new shoes was strong to me I can't imagine how it was slapping her in the face.  Sure enough the flying wasn't enough it was time to insert the screaming.  That was a snatch and run store.

      I left Reid and her in the van while I buzzed the craft store on a mission for 4-H items.  After all it's crunch time for those things.

     Next was her favorite store Walmart.  That was fine until she saw the doors and leaving was the only thing she could think of.  So we didn't even make it to the food side of the store.  Guess I have to go grocery shopping another day.

     I really tipped the scale when I did Sam's.  The screaming was through the whole store.  I felt like I was on one of the game shows where they are given a time limit to grab as much as you can.  Sadly we were done, but grandma called and wanted two more things.  That was too much weight on one side and the system crashed.  We grabbed what was needed and got in line.  The beautiful lady in front of me offered to let me go first and told me I was strong and she admired me for taking her out.

     (Here's where the post really should start.)  After all that happened that day and the comment that was made I really felt I needed to write this.  The comment made me feel really good.  After all it wasn't a negative one for a change.  But strong was not how I was feeling right then.  I wanted to fall to the floor into a sobbing blob and be soaked up by the floor.  I HAD to keep going, we were nearly an hour from home and I HAD to drive home yet.

     It's times like this that song I'm Worn by Tenth Avenue North comes to mind.  I don't feel strong.....I feel like I would have a hard time kicking over an anthill.  I needed the support of that stranger to know that I'm doing the right thing and not everyone is frowning on my screaming, flapping young lady.  I know some of you are looking for the religious inspiration in this, and I could give you soooooo many things, but I think I'm going to keep that out of this post.  I want to use this one to have you look at something a bit differently.

     I hope that in reading this post you are inspired to give someone who is worn the acknowledgement that you see their struggle.  Even if it's just smiling at them and saying hang in there. This goes for family members as well as strangers.  We were at a family gathering one day and my brother smiled at me and said, "You are fine, don't give up."  That was all it took for me to not say, "I'm going to go home so you can all enjoy each other's company."  

     I may be worn, but life keeps going on and I have to keep going.  I ask that you please look at others differently.  If you see a child throwing a fit, look at the picture closer before you judge the parenting.  There are sooo many other factors that can be involved.  Flash your smile not your judgement card.  I hope you enjoy the video as much as I do.