My Life as a Ninja Warrior part 1

We look "super" because of Brooke Photography!

Every morning I have a seemingly simple goal, to get my children out the door and on their way to school. In theory, there should be an effortless flow of events that achieve my daily objective. Yes, daily, wouldn't that mean that our tenacious troupe is in continuous training?  Our regular routine transpires six days a week. Sundays, the day of rest, is not immune to this rigorous workout. We wake up, come to the couch (we have a BIG one), Dad prays, we hug each other, then this team endeavor turns to individual events that must work in tandem to come together at the finish line. When they are all on their respective journeys, the closing of the front door is my big red buzzer declaring the completion of  my morning ambitions, during which I use every fragment of my faculties to reach. Sometimes I feel as if time will run out and the agony of defeat will envelop my morning when I must fetch my purse, load up the minivan, and transport my team to their individual destinations.

Brooke Photography

My co-coach, the Hubster, Kevin, strives along side of me utilizing the abilities of our apprentices while strengthening our squad. To do that, we need to be aware of each individual's talents, what they need to work on, as well as train for. Thirty minutes into the morning events he is off to bring home the proverbial bacon. (see that Honey, I wrote a post about bacon, your fave)

Brooke Photography

Brooke Photography

Eric: Our original obstacle, I have many years experience with. I know him so well that I should be able to achieve success blindfolded. Sometimes, though, in my overconfidence or his, this now smooth relationship finds an unexpected ripple that muscle memory is unable to overcome.

Emily: Being as she is away at college, she is the retro task in our marathon of mornings, a kind of novelty that has been studied for ages yet periodically makes a comeback and for a limited time only. She and I need to continue to train, for our encounters to remain effortless.

Brooke Photography

Angel: The potential, oh the potential! Seemingly capable of accomplishing the simplest of tasks but often forces me to find a more amiable route around the hurdle set in my path. I continue my rigorous training in hopes that one day we can achieve greatness shoulder to shoulder as a true team.

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Allie: This mountain was a hard climb in an early, less experienced time. As we progress, together, we have begun to understand one another and often work together as the cogs in a fine-tuned mechanism. There are times, though, when she or I become a bit off kilter and the humming of our well-oiled machine turns to a hodgepodge of movement that hinders our desire to pull together.

Brooke Photography

Joe: Our speed force. Running, running, running through life trying to compete with the big dogs. Often, his leg of the race is handled smoothly and efficiently. His attention is focused on the task at hand. Occasionally, though, his youth and inexperience produce a cocky, overconfident attitude that eventually trips him up thus affecting the entirety of the team. I am positive that, with continual training, he will one day be the anchor to our relay race of life.

Brooke Photography

Jillian: This is our "slow and steady wins the race" teammate. She is consistent to a fault yet I admire her tenacity and sticktoitiveness. When she has her mind set on a task, she tries to take the time to do it right. The challenge is, getting her to set her mind on the task that achieves my parental goal. It is during her events that I am reminded to take my time and allow her to do what she needs to do. How will she get faster if she doesn't have the opportunity to practice?

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Ben: The new guy, is our assistant coach, cheerleader, MVP, and biggest stumbling block all at the same time. He is a big man in a little body, confident in what he doesn't know. Call out an instruction and he will repeat it and make sure the person addressed heard the mandate. Tell Jillian she needs to get her socks on, he will run ahead and find a pair that matches. Ask him to run on water, he will attempt it many times over to prove he can. Remind him to brush his teeth and he becomes a gelatinous puddle on the ground yelling "NOOOOOO!!!!"

Brooke of Brooke Photography

Then there is me, the MOM. Using the ninja parenting skills I have obtained over the years guiding this group each morning to attain the supposedly, straightforward objective of getting ready for the day. While spending practically every ounce of energy I had accumulated throughout my nightly slumber.

These are the people God gave me to work with, daily. We enjoy each other, we annoy each other, and we LOVE each other. Together, we make sure that our life is... 

"Never Easy Always Good"

  

Come back soon to see what the first two hours of my morning routine and it's expected and unexpected acts that make it interesting.

The Tree, The Storm, and The Stakes

There is a wonderful analogy spoken of in Christian circles. It is one that helps the believer to understand why a loving God would allow trials into the lives of those He adores. I speak of the analogy of the tree and the storm. The illustration basically boils down to this, in order for trees to be strong, they need deep roots. In order to have deep roots, they need to withstand storms. It is the storm that encourages the tree to plant firm roots so as to not topple over. In contrast, trees with shallow roots will easily fall at the slightest squall.

This morning, on the drive to my 16 year old's high school, I was able to remind him about the purpose of storms in our lives. This past year we have been introduced to facets of our son's life that have been overshadowed throughout the 11 years since his and his sister's adoption. The details of these facets will, I am sure, make the topic of a future blog post. For now, understand that our son has endured far more storms than the Hubster and I were aware of. These disturbances, that we as parents have had no control of, have been brewing in my son's mind for the entirety of his life with us. Often, he can no longer hold back the pressure of life so he finds opportunity to release his anger, hurt and frustration in the place he feels safest, our home. Last night we, as a family, experienced one of those episodes.

This morning, with the burden relieved, my son was in a place where he could receive some maternal wisdom. I explained that he has had an abundance of storms in his life and that his Dad, the Hubster, and I know he will be able to overcome them. While overcoming these trials, his roots will grow so deep that, we know, he will not be moved nor shaken. He will be stronger than anyone I know. But it is in the overcoming that he will be made stronger, not in the storm itself.

At that moment, I had an epiphany and began to speak to myself as well. You see, when we plant young trees, we use posts or stakes to support them until their roots are mature. Usually, there are two stakes. The responsibility of the stakes are to help the tree not to need them anymore. There the stakes stand, one on each side of the young tree, both gently but firmly holding on to this new life. It is a fine balance, the responsibility of a stake, hold on too tight and the tree can be choked, it could snap when confronted with resistance, or the tree could grow and envelop the stake, never to be free and independent. Yet, take to weak of a grasp and that tree is at the whim of it's environment.


I continued down the road of the responsibility of the stake. You see, the thing about stakes is, they don't leave when the storms come, They withstand the storm with the tree to help it through the winds it would not overcome on it's own. It is during the storm that the stakes' work is most difficult and most important. The stake needs to be planted firmly. The stake needs to be sure of it's job. The stake needs to support yet allow the environment to affect the tree so the roots may grow deep. The stake does this in hopes that the tree will no longer rely on it and will flourish on its own.

As parents, we stand along side our children. We try to find that balance of strength and flexibility. As parents we weather all that our child endures and hopefully help our young ones to learn for themselves. As parents we set our goals to, one day, watch our child flourish, on his own, independent of us.

A Close Call!

The broken bone... or not?

We had a concern, was it fractured or sprained? In all of our 18 years of parenting, this experience had yet to cross our paths. Sure, we have had our fair share of bumps and bruises. Sure, we have had a child or two whom have had to be on the receiving end of a needle and sutures. The best was when one boy, at 18 months, decided to stick his finger in the sprocket of an exercise bicycle while his sister was peddling it. Our oldest even seemed to approach any church youth event as a challenge to come home with some type of injury. Now, even as a "legal" adult, that objective still remains. Up until this point, though, we had never waited upon the return of an x-ray and a doctor to interpret it.

The siblings involved (Joe is not that tall)

During this short stint of waiting, I began to ponder the result of my son's evening game of tag in the church parking lot with his junior high youth group, his tumble down the hill and his nonchalant, tough guy attitude that resulted. Well, that's one less hand for chores and complaints from others whom have to pick up the slack. I was already hearing the whining while the rest of the fam was enjoying our local pool, it is June in Arizona don't you know? Thank goodness we are on summer break, we have time for his writing hand to heal before schoolwork reoccurs. Oh man, and then there are the showers! Who is going to deal with that?

As I was contemplating the effects at home of a child in a cast, a small miracle materialized.  My ears weren't fooling me when they heard, "May I help you?" float effortlessly out of my middle girls lips as her older brother struggled with the dishes. "I'll tie your shoes for you!" said my youngest son who has an aversion to footwear with laces. These three, whom seem to battle continually, were willing to serve one another! I began looking forward to the possibility of "plaster" encompassing their brother's wrist. The revelation of the lesson that was on the cusp of understanding in my children's hearts, to serve and to be served graciously, excited me. The bliss I was about to experience as a mom enticed me!  

Then the much anticipated phone call rang through. What? A bad sprain? Ice it 20 minutes twice a day? Oh the whining and complaining that will be my life!!!

How do you measure success?

Amazingly, Awesome Travelers

Here I am, about two thirds of my way to our 12 hour destination, riding in the "Party Van" complete with 12 seat belts and hand crank window winders. The Hubster and I are accompanied by our four youngest as well as a trailer full of racing, rowing shells (boats). We hit the road at 3:30 this morning when it was so dark in my hometown that the stars were beaming.  As we belted the children in, it was difficult not to feel a little sorry for myself because the duration of time my head rested on my pillow was only about three hours.  Why so late to bed?  We had to finish packing after returning from the Academic Award ceremony at the biggles high school. There our oldest was decorated with tassels, sashes and cords because of his achievements throughout his four year tenure. The Hubster and I were rewarded by receiving a plaque as a result of our contributions. Don't be mistaken, this was not due to us providing our 200 student charter school with some financial windfall. No, it was because of the time we have spent, as a family making sure the school's rowing crew was operational. 

Sitting on the metal bleachers, my mind wandered as I wondered, "How do I measure success?"   Is it in the trophies and gifts on the wall from those whom are appreciative of our efforts?  Is it in the in the accolades of others whom look at our family and ponder "Just how do they do it?" Is it in a paycheck we receive (if you knew what we live off of the answer to that question would be obvious) or possessions we own, or people we know? As much as these things are all well and good, the Hubster and I base our success upon what we do with what God has given us.  Whether it is children, chores, change or championships our goal is to do our best with what the Lord has provided. 

Our best often consists of late nights comforting friends, confronting people on behalf of a child, spending time listening to the youth both inside and outside of our home encouraging them to rise to the occasion. It consists of wiping noses as well as bottoms, tying shoes and hair.  It means last minute schedule changes and unexpected visitors, driving friends home as well as dropping kids off. Whether it is cold dinners or hot, cold toes or hot foreheads, at any moment we are to be  shining as best as possible. What we don't realize while in the midst of the job entrusted to us, is others are watching. Our children's friends, coworkers and even strangers are able to observe our every move. It is then that our success shines for us. All too often it is our failures can make us look dim. It is then, though, that God, if we allow, takes the difficult and turns it into the glorious.

Now I have about an hour left of my journey and, once again, I have attempted to put forth my best. I have missed blogging so much these past few months but my Lord has given me the subjects of many future posts. I leave you, today, with one final thought.

"Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come."

Proverbs 31:25

My Biggles getting set to row together for one last time!  (sniff, sniff)

Tailor Made

All of the AMAZING photos are by the Beautiful Brooke of Brooke Photography

I don't know about you but the most difficult parenting skill to learn for me is consistency.  I am not necessarily aiming to make everything fair or even for each child, nor do I always respond to an action with the same reaction.  What I do mean is consistently providing for each child what he or she needs at the time.  That could range from standing outside, in 32 degree weather, making sure those laps being run up and down the street are finished appropriately, to stopping cooking dinner for a family of eight, and  kneeling down to explain for the 20th time that she will be eating with in the hour, so a snack is not a wise choice right now.  Meeting a child where they are at and personalizing our parenting according to the specific situation and need is way easier said than done.

As I am sure you have figured out by now, the Hubster and I have had a wide array of parenting experiences.  We have children who would oppose correction with every fiber of their beings, children who quake in their shoes when a voice is raised slightly, and quite a variety in between.  Within our parental hearts and minds, being consistent is often confronted with guilt, impatience, as well as exhaustion.  Too often, I try to avoid the effort it takes to do the job right the first time, only to pay for it in the end.  (Ironically, I have had that talk with quite a few of my kiddos, some more recently and frequently than others) So far, five out of my six kids have brought me to tears because of my fatigue due to the repetition and tenaciousness of a situation with them.  The reluctance to follow through with consequences such as returning gifts or canceling birthday parties hinders many opportunities to train our children.   I can't count how many times I have witnessed an infraction that I "didn't have the time" to deal with, only to be presented, sooner than later, with another opportunity to follow through and sharpen my parenting skills.  This time though, I have to take on the previous groundwork my lack of effort had inadvertently laid.  Still, it is the Hubster's and my job to do what we signed up for, raise responsible, respectful, and reachable children.

Schulze Girls

So, how do we do it?  To be honest, I am not fully sure myself.  I do know we depend a lot upon God's wisdom, hoping we hear His Spirit speaking to our hearts. Our parenting consists a lot of fixing our mistakes and admitting we were misguided in our child rearing blunders.  Our kids learn about humility, how to handle mistakes as well as apologies.  Although, in certain situations, we need to stick to our guns no matter what.  At the tender age of five we could have sworn that our first born child was on the road to law school. We often could be found succumbing to his logic, only to shake ourselves and remind us and him just who the parent was.  Other children of ours are quite convincing with their untruths (OK, lies).  Our solution was to present the consequence to all six siblings in hopes the true offender would fess up.  One child in particular would stand her ground while her brothers and sisters joined her in the discipline du jour.  Although, Usually, the peer pressure helps the guilty party to cave. Occasionally, we have had to switch gears and confront our child with the blind faith that what our parental instincts were telling us was true.  

 Many times, the Hubster and I are not on the same exact page in a certain discipline matter, that is when we use the "fall back" method.  We usually move to neutral ground (our bedroom) and discuss our game plan.  After some agreeing and conceding has been accomplished we move forward in what ever plan has been generated.  We actually put this tactic into practice just a few hours ago.  I loved that we listened to one another, called the child into our headquarters, listened to him, dismissed him, constructed our plan, called said child to return, and laid the prospective program out for him.  No chaotic emotions at all.

One of my favorite tools is the "self created discipline".  One child, in particular had this "making things bigger thing" mastered.  For instance, trying to avert a massive breakdown, I instructed my son to go to his room, calm down, and then he could return to the rest of us.  As he STOMPED to his room he was easily heard shouting, "I DON'T WANT TO GO TO BED WITHOUT DINNER!"  To which I stated, "Hmmm, I hadn't thought of that. What a great idea!!! OK, when you are in your room put your jammies on.  You will be going to bed soon after."  Another of my children tried this tactic and realized, rather quickly, it wasn't for her.

Schulze Boys

The old, "Peanut butter sandwich and water" treatment works for three of our kids, but not for the other three.  I don't cook for people who are disrespectful to me so, someone else makes the necessary meal.  For half of my kids missing out on the regular meal is detrimental.  My oldest daughter would prefer that fare more often than not.  Her big brother is allergic, and her youngest sister could care less. 

Singing, hugs, hands on noses, foreheads on walls, holding hands, happy hats, sitting in on classes, random dancing, chores, writing, exercise, repetition, missing out, are all items we use to encourage our children to do the right thing.  

Preventative maintenance, though, tends to help all of the above be fewer and farther between.  Taking the time to listen to, snuggle with, and attend to my child minimizes his or her demand upon me and/or the Hubster.  Nightly dinners around our table are imperative.  We catch up on each other's days, reminisce, plan and bond.  Just by eating meals together we express how important our kids' thoughts and ideas are to us.  The kiddos' individuality blossoms around the table.  I don't know of a better place to get to know your family let alone anyone else.


With all of our strengths and weaknesses, successes and mistakes, similarities and differences, it just goes to show parenting is not a "one size fits all" venture. Good parenting needs to be "tailor made".

Thankfulness

Photo by the amazing Brooke Photography

Here we go, it's November and this Mom's hustling holiday season is in full swing.  Our annual family photo session (with Brooke Photography of course) was amongst a last minute trip to California for a visit with Grandma, my brother-in-law's surprise 50th, Emily's 16th (complete with the Winter Jam concert accompanied by some of her good friends), a school potluck x 4 classrooms (OK it was October 31st but close enough), haircuts x 8 (lovin' Ms. Hannah!), dentist visit x 2 (I missed and had to reschedule twice, thank you Dr. Bobby!) a Jr. High Thanksgiving potluck, various stays at the 7th grade, a last minute trip to Phoenix toting girls for a coxswain (the person that tells the rowers what to do and where to go) clinic, designing the 2013 Schulze Family Christmas card and having it printed (at Costco) before the coupon ran out that night.  With all of this busyness, I have not had nor taken the time to truly contemplate what I am thankful for. I have to admit the rebel in me tends to steer clear of the daily Facebook thing.  I do enjoy reading the gratitude of my friends and family though.

Our BIG Day 5.7.94

With Thanksgiving literally two days away, it is probably time to magnify that grateful mindset of mine.  I could come up with lists upon lists of who and what all I appreciate in my life but time is short and I have one specific item, event, condition that I am truly blessed by, my marriage.  You see, as I have noted in a previous post, the Hubster and I are on the verge of 20 years of matrimony.  It isn't, though, the longevity of our relationship that impresses me.  I can't say this "China Anniversary" even represents "the beautiful, elegant and delicate(ness) of our love for one another over the past 20 years."  Certainly the two decades have not been filled with bliss, quite the contrary has been the rule during some seasons of our union.

What I am thankful for is the road God walked us down, the mountains we traversed, the valleys we rested in.  I am thankful for the lessons taught and learned, the battles fought and won, the fears experienced and overcome.  I am thankful for the moments we yelled at each other and made it through.  I am thankful for the countless tears shed that did not drown us.  I am thankful for the discord, the dishonesty, and the disrespect we both took part in that never disrupted the commitment we have to one another. Have we liked each other constantly throughout our relationship? No. Have we known God had a purpose for each hardship we were to experience? Yes.  Are we better off having engaged the fire together?  Do I really have to answer this?  Yes and yes.  

(cropped from) Brooke Photography again!

Each trial has not only strengthened our marriage but has also laid a foundation for our children to build their future relationships upon.  They have witnessed their parents go through the ugly to get to the beautiful. They have seen us lean upon our Lord as well as praise Him when times are difficult.  They have experienced the results of a husband and wife clinging to promises made many years prior.  They know that trust can be regained and that love prevails.  

Fun times together.

During one low point I was told deep within my soul that if I gave up on the Hubster he would never be the man God has intended him to be and he would never accomplish the tasks God has for him.  Once I had truly done that, we were able to wade through his "stuff" as well as get some sort of control over it.  What initially took me by surprise was, with his "stuff" hemmed in, my "stuff" became more visible.  As uncomfortable as it was, I was able to see my faults and weaknesses.  Then, together, we were and have been able to grow through mistakes I have made. I thank my Lord that Kevin, the  Hubster, has never, not once, given up on me.  The rewards received due to a marriage forged by trials and strengthened by God are the best gifts ever!

We LOVE Brooke Photography

What have I learned?  Other than the Hubster will stick with me through thick and thin, I have learned that I don't need to be in control.  I have learned that I can trust his decisions, even if I think he is 100% wrong at the time.  I have learned that I am wrong more often than I have previously realized.  I have learned  I can follow his lead just as God desires me to.  I have learned the Hubster wants to listen to me and take my opinions into consideration. I have learned that the he will do anything in his power to protect his family.  I have learned that no matter how scary life seems to be, as long as we are with each other and focused on the Lord, we can endure anything.  

I encourage my readers, with a few exceptions, to not give up on the spouse God has given you.  Looking at our challenges from a worldly standpoint, we would have had a strong case to end our union. Thankfully, Kevin and I believe we have a responsibility to honor the vows we have taken. The words we recited ending in "Til death do us part." are not misleading.  They were not conditionally based.  They are a reminder that things will get tough and together we can endure anything that God allows into our lives.

A peek at our family photo session with, who else but Brooke Photography

It's a Privilege

It happens to ALL parents.  If you have yet to experience this feeling and you have a child, I can guarantee you, junior is under the age of three.  Those of us without children, may have a special someone in our lives who invokes a similar emotion.  That shiver up your spine, or a cringe in your soul, can often be the result of just a few simple words, "Can I ask you a question?"  


As a mom of six, I have fielded a few doozies in my seventeen years of child rearing experience. Routinely though, the standards, "What's for dinner?", "What's it going to be like outside?" and "What are we doing today?" are multiplied as you can imagine.  So as to not lose my mind answering the same question over and over and over again, I have made an information board for my family to refer to.  Meals, day, date, weather, laundry and shower schedule, as well as the day's happenings are answered with the scrawl of a dry erase marker (as long as I don't forget).  When the majors are asked, I just point to the board.

Still questions persist. Thinking back, I have a few favorites...

"In other worlds, do red lights mean the same thing?"

"When are we going to see clouds, down low, with coyotes in them?"

"How does the sperm get to the egg?"  (OK, not my favorite but certainly memorable)

Then we have the conversation questions which usually begin with a misinterpretation of some sort.

Alize: "What's a cult?"

Mom: (with brows raised)  "What are you reading?"

Alize: "Little House on the Prairie"

Mom: (a tad befuddled)  "Bring it here. I want to see."

(Alize yields the book.)

Mom: (with a sense of relief) "Oh, it's a young horse."

Of course, Mom is the go-to-gal for ALL information.  The later we get in the day, though, my patience grows slim.  At some point during the past few years I had to declare all "What if..." questions banned after 7PM. They were making my brain hurt.


My answers?  I really try to be accurate with them.  As you can imagine though, I have used the "because I say so", "That is how God made it", "What if (insert child's name)?", "The last time I wore your shoes..."  Those oldie but goodie answers sure do come in handy at times.

Some of my kids are in unique situations, their questions are a little more challenging.  "Why don't I look like you?"  "What does my birth dad look like?"  "Where are my birth parents?"  Along with inquiries such as these are the underlying questions often connected to undesirable behaviors.  "Will they still love me if..."  "Will they still keep me if..."  "Will my consistent behavior receive a consistent response?"

This past week, just before bedtime, Allie came to me with heartfelt questions.  They were the kind where I had to separate my emotions and realize the response she was seeking in no way reflected on my mothering skills or upon how she felt about being a Schulze.  They were eliciting information about the essence of her existence.  My goal is always for my kids to love their birth parents because, when they do, they are loving on a part of themselves.  Due of this my answers need to be carefully constructed.

It all started with my daughter asking how much longer birth mom would be in prison.  Following my answer she enquired whether, after she was released, when birth mom was doing better, if she would go to live with her.  I told her, no, because she has been adopted by her Dad and I, she is a Schulze now and is an important part of our family.  She then told me she wants to live with her.  Now, Allie has been doing well in school and at home, so she's not in any trouble, therefore, no punishments have been doled out recently.  No, her inquiry is because she loves the biological attachment and the magical aura a birth mom can hold.  Me, I get down and dirty, my shine has become a bit tarnished, she knows my strengths as well as my faults.  So, I understand where she is coming from. Still, the "Why not?" question is not an easy one.

What comes next, I have experienced once before.  "If God knew what birth mom would do, and that I would be taken away, why would He even let me be born?"  I have never had my bio kids doubt the reason they exist.  This question has to be handled with extreme sensitivity.   "Mom and Dad can not make an Alize, she can not come from our bodies."  I answer.  "God needed birth mom and birth dad to make an Alize because He wanted a strong, sweet, creative, smart, beautiful, silly, caring girl that can only do things the way you do them."  I quickly follow with, "But, He wanted to protect her from the hardships her biological parents were experiencing as well as the choices they would make.  For that reason, God trusted Kevin and Cindy with this amazing little girl.  Why?  Because He knew they would love her forever and do their best to raise her to be an amazing young lady."

As these words flow from my lips, my heart breaks just a little for my sweet innocent girl.  Knowing the world is creeping in on her magical life makes my eyes tear and the beat of my heart heavy.  The turmoil she and her siblings endure are foreign to me and yet, I need to pause and nurture their broken hearts with scars that I can not see but only sense.  I need to step far outside of my selfishness and do what God has trusted only me to do, be Allie's mom.  It is a privilege that surely isn't easy, but definitely is good.

Joe: What You See Is What You Get.

"My life is an open book." is a saying that pretty much applies in my case.  Not that the life I live is perfect in any way nor am I free and clear of embarrassing moments, much less poor decision making.  Accepting all of the beautiful and the ugly that I bring to this world helps me ou t of controlccept the situations that appear in my life. It also helps me to know my strengths and where I may need to lean on others a bit more.  The weaknesses are actually something I cherish, although sometimes reluctantly.  It is through those deficiencies that God often does His best work in me.  It is through my shortcomings that He tests my trust in Him.  Have you ever wondered, when met with a life changing moment, if you would rise to the call?  My children are used quite often to answer that question.  Each member of our family has a different chapter in my book that is ever changing and used to mature me emotionally as well as spiritually. 

The "Joe" chapter of our lives began rather abruptly.  While on his morning commute to work, and during his weekly phone call to the newest grandparent addition, the Hubster found out the baby had been born and was currently residing with the birth mom who was yet to be freed from her addiction.  Being foster parents, mandated reporters, and the adoptive parents of the baby's siblings, our hands were tied.  Legally, we had to make the call.  During our subsequent phone contact, I remember telling the Hubster, "We need to pray about this."  Although that was never accomplished together, I know our hearts were united with our Lord's as the day went on.

My job, going direct to the solution and contacting our recently relieved CPS case worker, skipping that toll free number all together.  As I relayed the current news, I found the words, "Keep us in mind." flowing effortlessly out of my mouth.  Her reply, "Are you sure?"  Our first meeting with this amazing social worker had occurred only eleven months prior.  Since that original contact she had been a key player in our recent adoption of Angel and Alize, which blessed her heart after knowing them for two and a half years.  For some reason, I don't think my affirmative answer surprised her much.

That is when the pacing in literal circles began.  While on the phone with a dear friend of mine I realized my most recent newborn was on her way to double digits that year.  "What do you need?" was heard over the receiver.  "Diapers?" was all I could think of as my mind continued to spin out of control.  As I remember, our day was up and down emotionally.  The Hubster was prepared to leave work as soon as the call would come in.  Which it did later in the afternoon and he soon came home.  We then needed to pick our older three from school.  Number four

had been hanging out with me all day as usual.  A crazy, exciting vibe was hovering around our family. Just thirteen months ago we had two kids and now, we were just about to receive number five.  

After a couple of false alarms and a drive-thru dinner we decided to keep our Wednesday schedule in tact. Once we had our minds set, we got the phone call.  Where would we like to meet and receive the five day old boy?  We were on our way to church, so why not there.  That was just where they would drop him off.  We like to say, Joe was delivered in the church parking lot.  We had a baby.  

Soon, in the church office, my sweet friend hauled in five Target bags filled with everything I would need.  As we emptied them, one item at a time, we were able to share this special moment with a couple other ladies.  Our impromptu shower was as sweet and as unexpected as the bundle I was blessed with just minutes prior.

Joe's inception into the Schulze family was an adventure.  His infancy was no less exciting.  Our newest member was quite vocal.  His song of choice was more like screaming, OK, it was screaming.  Our sweet baby would scream for anything and everything and not just a regular scream, it was a bone chilling, I understand why some people can't handle this, kind of scream.  Joe had been exposed to methamphetamine daily for at least the first five months of his pregnancy.  I am sure these screeches were the result of that cause.  

The next year we would bond as mother and son, spend time in courtrooms, with social workers, and at doctor's offices.  We would share visits with biological family as well as other adoptive families.  We would endure, spine tingling screams, sleepless nights, and the anxiety linked with adoption through the foster care system.  We would give this boy his first haircut at three months, watch him stand and then walk, and discover that sign language would minimize the shrieking greatly.  We would snuggle him, cuddle him, and fall in love with him.  After fifteen months in our care, Joe became a Schulze.

Now, as we grow closer to his seventh birthday I look at my son and see an articulate, charismatic, affectionate little guy.  I see an innate protective instinct that will assure the safety of many in his future.  I see his love for family, friends, and God.  I see his self confidence as well as his timidity.  I see a sparkle in his eye and a spring in his step when he is enjoying life.  I see deep pain and sorrow when things go astray. He feels intensely and loves profoundly.  This boy lives life to it's extreme.  

Because of his living life on the so-called edge, I wonder about his prospective future.  I wonder about the possibilities.  I know that whatever he encounters, he will take it head on, with his whole heart.  There is not much grey area with my fifth child.  He either does or he doesn't, he either is or he isn't, he either will or he won't.  With Joe, what you see is what you get.

Therapy Thursday: Day to Day Existence

One of the most intimidating things when parenting a child with special needs is therapy.  Whether, speech, physical, or occupational it is difficult to figure out quality time to devote to working on new tasks.  As a mom of six, finding consistent time to perfect the developmental skills that come naturally to most, is close to impossible.  

I remember the pint sized treadmill that camped out in our living room for months waiting for someone to hold Jillie above it so her feet would learn to walk.  Let me tell you, that was a bicep builder.  That exercise apparatus did not get used as much as it should have, partially because Jillie would just lift her feet and dangle in our extended arms. Mostly, it was because our time to devote to it was not abundant.  I realized, therapy needed to be tied into our day to day existence.  We needed to use the resources we had on hand, brothers and sisters.  We set them on the task of encouraging Jillie to walk, by them holding her hands while her feet were on the floor. Wouldn't you know it, she walked and still does.  One night she stood right up and took four or five steps, all at once.  Did she do it for me, nope, she walked between the Biggles, Eric and Emily.

I love Jillie's therapists!  They do an amazing job with her and encourage me weekly.  When we set goals for my daughter I look for ways to achieve our objective while making my job a little easier, if possible.  For speech therapy, for example, Jillie needed to strengthen her tongue and lips.  So, no more cutting up spaghetti noodles.  She would need to use her verbal muscles to work that pasta into her mouth.  I also would turn her string cheese into threads and feed her peanut butter sandwiches on soft white bread, anything to get those muscles working out.

Our big goals now have more to do with occupational therapy, more fine motor skills to help her be successful in kindergarten.  We have special pencils to aid in her grip.  I have apps to help her count and write numbers.  We play with play dough to strengthen her hand muscles.  Our latest OT tool is, Box Tops.  Yes, the ones for education. Who'd have thought the little money makers would benefit my daughter in a totally different way.  I set her up with a tray, paper, big glue stick and pre-cut Box Tops and she had a blast.  We practiced counting objects, each page needed 10.  She then had to glue the tiny rectangles in specific places on the paper, not just any random place, she needed to follow directions, which she did.  Paired with the fine motor skills she was strengthening, it was quite the task. After five pages, she was done, but we have plenty more to take up this project again.  Tomorrow, she will hand her endeavours over to her teacher so she can play the Box Tops game of the month.  I am pretty sure it has to something do with pumpkins.

Deterring Deviations

This past week I spent my mornings sitting in the back of my 7th grader's class.  I did not go there to embarrass him, contrary to what he thought my purpose was.  I did not go to make sure he was doing the right thing by policing him nor to investigate his friendships.  I went to observe him in his natural surroundings.  I knew my presence, though, made the common habits of a 13 year old boy difficult.  Still, I had my eyes searching for any type of academic engagement.  

My son is quite capable of a "B" average, straight "A's" if he pushes himself.  In his circle of peers, though, it is not the popular thing to raise your hand in class, whether to ask a question or to give an answer.  I guess the teens are concerned with looking too smart or too confused. As a result, some bad habits, accompanied with matching grades, have begun to emerge.  My job is to help my son overcome previous choices, but such a task can be daunting and trying to produce new habits in this kid is not easy.  Fortunately, I am a parent committed to grow responsible young people.  

 I actually had a pretty good time at school.  I sat in my designated chair, opened my tablet and then developed a system to keep track of his involvement.  Next, I diligently invested my time on Pinterest planning dinners for the next couple of weeks (complete with grocery list). Texting the hubster to keep him filled in on all of the hand raising, answering and asking of questions was of severe importance.  I then kept up on facebook, noting the new things I learned like what an "ellipsis" is.  I also did some blog planning but did not have much time to actually write. All I really needed, was my physical attendance in the back of the class. Who really cared what exactly I was doing.  My son would rarely look back to see if I was still there, it was easier to be in denial if he didn't actually see me. Needless to say, my child's teachers noticed an increase in academic activity as well as appropriate behavior.  

It has taken me a few years but I have finally realized, why must the discipline initiated for my child be a punishment for me?  I began to see the need for me to retain my sanity.  So I try to make the most of my child's corrections.  I could have sulked in that seat.  I could have documented the deviations.  Instead, I sought out positive conduct and made sure my needs were met also.

After three days, three hours each, I have been asked to "pop in" anytime I want a few times a week.  Kind of keeping my son on his toes, so-to-speak.  Hopefully we can assist this boy in forming new habits both educationally as well as socially.

Today, I popped in, unannounced, went back to my chair and updated my grocery list.  Just prior to leaving for his math class, my son was invited outside to take a spelling test he had missed.  In his absence, I too became absent.  I did wait to leave the school, as he would pass the parking lot on the way to math.  I wanted him to see my van and anticipate me joining the class at any moment.  Instead, I popped into my vehicle, drove to the grocery store, pulled up that grocery list, and shopped for those dinners.  

Oh yeah, I actually had time to write today too!

Perfecting Their Skills

All photos by Brooke Photography

Brothers and sisters, sisters and brothers, part of my challenge as a parent is helping them to understand each other, not an easy task.  Usually things get loud, whether it's voices, doors, or dishes.  My inspiration for this post is continuing on as I type.  Alize is learning to load a dishwasher and Angel is teaching her, that situation in itself could power a small combustion engine.  The clattering of cookware, the sounds of adversity, the sighs of discontent can be deafening, at the same time, they are almost music to my ears, almost.

This arrangement is multi-facetted.  First, I have grown tired of teaching Angel the correct way to load a dishwasher and hand wash dishes.  I know, why would I have someone teach who hasn't seemed to have learned?  Having a feeling my son knew more than he lead us to believe, I made him the educator.  Wouldn't you know it, all of a sudden, he knows everything there is to know about filling the dishwasher.  Alize makes sure to ask plenty of questions when trying something new. Telling his sister how to do the same thing over and over is providing this brother with a life lesson in patience and how to handle frustration.  It's not easy explaining a task to someone, let alone discovering them doing it their own way in spite of the training provided.  Hmmmm, something I experience quite often.  These two are full biological siblings who came to live with us at the same time.  One would think, this commonality would provide a bond that would be unspoken.  Not so, in fact the opposite is quite true.  It is a rare moment when this pair is in the same place, doing the same thing in a harmonious manner.  Which brings me to my final purpose, simply, getting along with one another.  Forcing this brother and sister to work together will, hopefully, encourage some type of mutual understanding and hopefully, trust.

As the din dies down between the middles, my biggles start in.  Emily has a math project she is working on and is, rightfully so, very proud of her endeavor.  Eric, a calculus student who loves the numbers, was adamant in his ideas, much to Emily's dismay. My persistent son's voice grew louder while Emily emphatically declined his assistance.  Fortunately, these two figured each other out years ago.  There's has been a partnership that, until recently, ran very smoothly.  You see, Eric likes to win and Emily is not comfortable with confrontation.  Eric likes the spot light and Emily prefers supporting roles.  Over a decade of their lives was spent with Emily seceding to her big brother in just about everything.  We had very few arguments because, there was no need.  The challenge now exists due to Emily's burgeoning independence.  Eric is beginning to acknowledge his younger sibling's right to be right, although it hasn't been very easy for him.

"The Littles," Joe and Jillie are in a similar situation.  Jillie adores her bigger little, as he does her. Looking across the couch at the two of them,  watching "Go Dog Go" be recited for the millionth time in our home, her head resting on his chest as he peruses the pages, is enough to make this mom well up with pride.  There are many times, though, that this eager first grader wants to lend his sister a helping hand when she swats it away and snaps back at him with a "NO".  Her autonomy gets in the way of his authority quite often.  Nevertheless, Joe sure does love being a big brother to his sweet sister.  Personally, I think he has been her favorite from day one.  After all, his was the first name she could say.  He is the one that will be at home with her the longest.  It's not coincidental that it is "a hug from Joe" that Jillie's teachers give as an incentive to help her make good choices through out her day.  Stickers, candy, stamps don't stand up to the allure of a quick cuddle from her brother.

We LOVE Brooke Photography

I love that my boys all have a younger sister to learn how to protect and take care of all while figuring out just how strong and independent they really can be.  I love that my girls all have a big brother to look up to and help mold them into the men God wants them to be.  At the same time the young ladies in my house get to allow my young men to practice emotions they will need some day as they all find wives.

My kids are perfecting their skills socially, the girls are learning how to deal with boys as the boys learn how to handle the girls.  Eventually, they will all use what they have been taught away from home, in college, their careers, their marriages, and their families.  My hope is that they will have prepared each other well.