Out of the Comfort Zone

This week was one of tears for many parents. It marked the end of summer and the start of the new school year. Some shed tears of sorrow while others shed tears of joy. The mood in the Stepleton house was a combination of the two. Though our summer was fun, it was also exhausting. After all, three year olds don’t seem to understand that summers are meant for sleeping in! These last few months were filled with lots of play dates, time at the pool, family visiting from out of town, and even a trip to see friends in Minnesota! We also had speech twice a week and managed to conquer potty training! Though summer was fun, this mom was ready for a much needed break in the day!

We had been preparing Hudson all week by reminding him that he was going to be going back to school. With a ridiculous amount of enthusiasm – we would excitedly remind him of all the friends and teachers he was going to be seeing. We even had a chance to go to an open house for his school to let him come and get re-acclimated with the classroom. He seemed set…until we walked on to campus Monday morning.

He quickly recalled the routine that was to come. He would line up at the wall, mom and dad would leave, and he would spend the next 6 hours out of his comfort zone. We hadn’t even made it to the wall before he was saying, “Mommy and daddy stay.” We kept reassuring him that we would wait with him until school started, but that we had to go because we needed to buy his new Lego. (Yes, we called upon some assistance from Lego to help kick-start our son’s enthusiasm for school.) Even the promise of a new Lego wasn’t enough for him to willingly line-up with his other classmates. Eventually the teacher held his hand and the class walked to their first stop of the day (the playground). Every step of the way he kept looking back, and with each look my eyes welled with more tears.

It is painfully difficult to disregard the pleas of your child as they cry out for you. As they turn back with a look that says Mama, I need you. It feels like you are betraying their trust, but you’re not. As much as I want to protect Hudson and keep him near me at all times and allow him to feel as safe and secure as possible – I more desperately want him to overcome his challenges. I want Hudson to know that I will always be available for comfort and empathy, but I won’t shy away from allowing him to experience discomfort.

The reality is that with his autism, the more that I coddle him – the more dependent he’ll be on me. The more that I keep him in what is comfortable, the smaller his world will be. If his world is too small, then he won’t learn to be flexible. If he can’t learn to be flexible, then life will be filled with an unnecessary amount of disappointment. I want my son to be able to cope with the ups and downs of life. I want him to try new things. I want him to be on the solution side. I want him to have meaningful relationships. I want him to grow. I want him to continue overcoming his challenges.

As I was thinking through this concept this week, a movie clip came to mind. It’s a powerful scene from the movie Ray. Please watch it below.

His mom choosing not to step in and help may at first appear to be cruel. After all – the poor kid was blind, had fallen, and was calling out for help. However, the help she gave her son was not in coming to his aid. It was allowing him to discover his inner strength. By forcing him out of his comfort zone – he was learning how to “see” with his ears. She withheld a momentary comfort to help build up a lifelong confidence.

Though it may be out of MY comfort zone - that is the type of mom I want to strive to be.

A Voice for the Voiceless

One of the areas affected by autism is communication. Many children are developmentally delayed in this area and therefore struggle to communicate their needs, wants, fears, preferences, etc. This can be very frustrating for the child and heartbreaking for the parent. There’s nothing worse than your child crying in frustration because you don’t understand how to help them. Because of this struggle – many advocate for children with autism to help “be their voice.” We have been more than blessed with wonderful therapists and teachers that have been a voice for Hudson. They have persevered with his struggles; they have helped to get him the right kind of therapy; they have helped to draw out our son from his autistic shell. There are many who are helping in the autistic community to be a voice for the voiceless.

Over these last few weeks, I have been learning about another group of children who are desperate to have a voice. They are desperate to know someone cares. They are desperate to be children again. They are those that have been enslaved in human trafficking.

Maybe this is the first time you’ve even heard this was still a problem in our modern day society. Maybe you’re like me. You’ve heard of the issue before, you’ve shaken your head at the atrocities, but you’ve never been moved to action. Well, I’m not sure what clicked. But I have felt drawn to be a part of the solution.

I’ve been following a blogger named Jamie Wright who recently wrote of her experience in SE Asia and her eyewitness account to these children being exploited for sex. Though the content is heavy – it isn’t absent of hope. Jamie also shares about the good people who are fighting to bring these children freedom…people that are willing to risk their comfort and safety to be a voice for the voiceless. Please take a moment to read her post:

http://www.theveryworstmissionary.com/2013/07/the-big-ask-how-can-i-help-fight-human.html

Sometimes when things are too hard to imagine, we turn our heads and ignore the problem because it’s too much to bear. Sometimes we look the other way because we feel helpless. Thanks to organizations like The Exodus Road, we don’t have to feel helpless. They have provided a practical way for us to make a difference. After learning more about this project, Sean and I decided to support an investigative team monthly so that they have the resources to be the hands and feet that reach out to these children in bondage to sex trafficking. Check out http://www.theexodusroad.com for more info.

I strongly believe that we are blessed so that we may in turn be a blessing to others. Hudson’s struggle with autism is not over, but he has been given a voice. I now want to also make a difference for those children whose parents have betrayed them. I want make a difference for those families that have no idea what has happened to their loved ones. I want to stand up against the evil in this world. Edmund Burke once said, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men should do nothing.” I want to do something. I want to help be a voice for those that are still voiceless.

Father Forgets

Recently, I've been wrestling with the thought that my expectations might sometimes be too high for Hudson. There are times I've asked myself, "Am I just training him to be a little adult? Do I put adult-size expectations on my son?"And then yesterday I was listening to a podcast and heard this poem that cut straight to my core. It's a piece written by W. Livingston Larned and it's titled Father Forgets.

"Listen, son; I am saying this as you lie asleep, one little paw crumpled under your cheek and the blond curls stickily wet on your damp forehead. I have stolen into your room alone. Just a few minutes ago, as I sat reading my paper in the library, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me. Guiltily I came to your bedside.

These are the things I was thinking, son: I had been cross to you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because you gave your face merely a dab with a towel. I took you to task for not cleaning your shoes. I called out angrily when you threw some of your things on the floor.

At breakfast I found fault, too. You spilled things. You gulped down your food. You put your elbows on the table. You spread butter too thick on your bread. And as you started off to play and I made for my train, you turned and waved a hand and called, "Goodbye, Daddy!" and I frowned, and said in reply, "Hold your shoulders back!"

Then it began all over again in the late afternoon. As I came up the road, I spied you, down on your knees, playing marbles. There were holes in your stockings. I humiliated you before your boy friends by marching you ahead of me to the house. Stockings were expensive - and if you had to buy them you would be more careful! Imagine that, son, from a father!

Do you remember, later, when I was reading in the library, how you came in timidly, with a sort of hurt look in your eyes? When I glanced up over my paper, impatient at the interruption, you hesitated at the door. "What is it you want?" I snapped.

You said nothing, but ran across in one tempestuous plunge, and threw your arms around my neck and kissed me, and your small arms tightened with an affection that God had set blooming in your heart and which even neglect could not wither. And then you were gone, pattering up the stairs.

Well, son, it was shortly afterwards that my paper slipped from my hands and a terrible sickening fear came over me. What has habit been doing to me? The habit of finding fault, of reprimanding - this was my reward to you for being a boy. It was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own years.

And there was so much that was good and fine and true in your character. The little heart of you was as big as the dawn itself over the wide hills. This was shown by your spontaneous impulse to rush in and kiss me good night. Nothing else matters tonight, son. I have come to your bedside in the darkness, and I have knelt there, ashamed!

It is a feeble atonement; I know you would not understand these things if I told them to you during your waking hours. But tomorrow I will be a real daddy! I will chum with you, and suffer when you suffer, and laugh when you laugh. I will bite my tongue when impatient words come. I will keep saying as if it were a ritual: "He is nothing but a boy - a little boy!"

I am afraid I have visualized you as a man. Yet as I see you now, son, crumpled and weary in your cot, I see that you are still a baby. Yesterday you were in your mother's arms, your head on her shoulder. I have asked too much, too much."

I don't want to measure my son by "the yardstick of my years." I don't want to have "the habit of finding fault." Training is necessary. Discipline is necessary. But I hope they are outweighed by our playing together, celebrating together, and laughing together. I'm sorry son. Sometimes mama forgets too.

FIRST and THEN

As we were winding down for the evening the other day, Sean called Hudson into the playroom to help clean up. Though Hudson walked into the room, he wasn’t really helping with much. I’m pretty sure both he and Sean were overwhelmed by the task at hand. After all – Hudson knows how to put the CAR in CARpet. They were everywhere!

Sean started cleaning up train tracks while he had Hudson focus on putting his Hot Wheels in his toy chest. The problem is that when Hudson starts collecting his cars to clean-up, he remembers how fun they are to play with! Needless to say, he gets off track and it takes longer than it should to clean-up. In all honesty – it would probably take Sean and I two minutes to get the job done, but it’s a value in our family to teach personal responsibility. And when you’re 3, personal responsibility means putting your toys away.

After several attempts at trying to keep Hudson focused, we all started getting frustrated. Before giving up, I decided to try one last tactic. I said, “Hudson, FIRST we need to clean up cars and THEN we can play hide-n-seek.” Immediately his attention perked up and cars started flying into the toy chest. The reason he wasn’t helping us before was because he wasn’t motivated. Until he knew what was coming next, the task at hand seemed purposeless.

This week – there have been times when I have felt like I needed to know the next step…or two…or three. I’m a planner. I tend to deal better with change when I know what is coming. It gives me a chance to prepare myself emotionally. If you ever drive somewhere new with me, then be prepared to call out at least the upcoming three moves on MapQuest directions. When I have to have a difficult conversation with someone, I’m the type of person that plans for multiple outcomes to the conversation. “If they say this, then I’ll say that. But if they say that, then I’ll say this.” And my husband can attest that I am the type of person that asks questions at the movies (quietly mind you); even if neither of us has seen the movie. “Who is that? Why are they doing that? Are they a good guy or a bad guy?”

Most of the questions rolling around in my mind recently have had to do with the future. Are we on track in life? Are we going to be in Vegas forever? Are we going to have more children? Should I start working again? Are we ever going to have a house? If I knew what was on the horizon, then I could start moving in the right direction. But alas, I don’t have the answers to these questions. Therefore, I don’t know the next steps that I’m supposed to take. *Sigh*

However, I am trying to grow in living out the Biblical philosophy of worry. The Message translation of Matthew 6:34 says, “Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.” Ultimately, when we spend our time worrying – we miss out on the blessings, the grace, and the joy that comes with each day. And with a special kid like Hudson – my day is filled with lots of moments of joy.

So as I’m trying to grow in releasing control and worry, I’ve tried to look at my future the way we challenge Hudson to look at his…one step at a time. I’m learning to better embrace that FIRST we enjoy today, THEN we see what tomorrow holds.

Never Say Never

Sean and I were married for seven years before we decided we wanted to try for kids. And then it was another four years before Hudson finally came along. Though we were anxious to have our own shot at parenting, we definitely used our season of waiting to learn from others that were ahead of us. Sometimes you learn from others mistakes. Sometimes you learn from their victories. And some lessons you can't fully grasp until you experience them yourself. Let's take for instance the stereotypical screaming kid at Wal-Mart.

When I was an aspiring parent and would encounter these "screamers," I would find myself thinking, "I will NEVER let my kid act like that." Or "I would NEVER use bribery." Or "My kid will NEVER be a whiner." It only made me feel all the more anxious to show the world that things can be done a different way! Well - there is a Biblical saying that pride comes before the fall!

Fast forward to present day and I can assure you that I have violated ALL of my "never" statements several times over. And to add a level of complexity - Hudson's autism makes him even MORE susceptible to emotional outbursts and tantrums. Hudson is definitely teaching me to enjoy the taste of Humble Pie. In fact - just the other day he presented me with yet another serving.

We were walking around (you guessed it) Wal-Mart and happened to be perusing the toy aisle. One thing Hudson is pretty good about is window shopping. We can tell him we're not going to buy anything, and he's usually ok with just looking.

All of a sudden while I'm looking at puzzles, I hear my son burst into tears and Sean trying to console. Hudson wanted nothing to do with consoling. I asked Sean what happened and he said he had no idea. Hudson had asked for help putting a tricycle away. But once Sean helped him, he became upset. He went from 0 to 10 in a matter of seconds. He was screaming, kicking, and snotting all over the place - and we had no idea why! And a quirky OCD-like comfort that Hudson has is tissue. The moment we start trying to address his behavior he starts screaming for tissue because he wants to wipe his face. He becomes obsessed with needing tissue and won't listen to reason. Unfortunately we didn't have any on us so we continued to try and console and he continued to scream louder.

It's at this point that we sat him down on a bottom shelf of a display and gave him a time out. While we're waiting for our son to stop hyperventilating - I notice that we're putting on the 3 o'clock show at Wal-Mart. Stick around - you won't want to miss the grand finale! Yes - we are the family everyone is staring at. Everything in me wanted to high tail it to our van. But then I recalled the words of wisdom that my friend Darla left me with after she had kids. "The reason you shop at Wal-Mart is because EVERYONE'S kids scream at Wal-Mart!" So after putting my pride aside - Sean and I talked and felt it was best to help Hudson calm down before giving in to his demand of tissue. We don't want him to learn that he can emotionally manipulate us because he cries or because we might get embarrassed. Slowly he started to calm down and we were able to explain that if he wanted tissue we could get some from mommy's van. But if we were going to go to mommy's van, he needed to stop crying first. Eventually the tears subsided and I was able to walk back to our car and pretend like it was someone else's kid screaming. (Just kidding!)

Though I walked back to the van a little emotionally drained - I also felt victorious. I was able to put my pride aside and invest into my son. I was able to persevere through an awkward parenting moment. I was able to do what was best for him and not my ego. And I'm continuing to learn more and more that there is no cookie-cutter way to address a distressed child. All we can do is choose our battles, keep humility and love in the equation, and sometimes a lollipop in your purse to help shape and mold the little lives we've been trusted with.

And one things for sure when it comes to parenting - never say never!

Fire Station 9

My sister arranged a visit to a Tucson Fire Station in 2012.

My son is obsessed with all things transportation – planes, cars, bikes, busses, trains, bulldozers, rickshaws, motorcycles…you name it. But I would have to say that one of his favorites has got to be fire trucks. Right across the street from our apartment complex is Fire Station 9. So we are constantly hearing the blare of the sirens on their way to serve our community. It is music to Hudson’s ears. No matter what he’s doing or where he’s at in the apartment, as soon as Hudson hears the sirens he makes a mad dash to the nearest window to see them in action. We’re on the second floor so he gets a pretty good street view. On our way to school, we pass right by the fire station and it is always a great start to his day when they happen to have the garage door open and he gets a glimpse of one of the red beauties. With the same enthusiasm each time, Hudson will say, “Mama, I see the fire truck!” And even when the day is done, the last thing on Hudson’s mind is Fire Station 9. I know this because each night we pray with our son before he goes to bed. Over the last several months we’ve been asking Hudson who he would like to pray for. Without hesitation in his sweet little voice he says, “Wanna pray for Fire Station Number Nine.” So we do. We’ve prayed for their safety, we’ve prayed for their marriages, and we’ve prayed for their unity as a team.

Before Hudson’s interest in fire trucks, I paid little to no attention to Fire Station 9. We’ve lived across the street from them for three years, and the only times I’ve paid them attention are when I’m trying to get to the far right hand lane to get out of their way when they’re on a call. It’s so easy to take them for granted or even appreciate them from a distance, but our special little boy has been reminding us to keep them at the forefront of our thoughts. I’d like to think that we are showering these public servants with special blessings each night our little 3 year old calls them to memory during prayer time. I’m so glad God is using Hudson to help grow a deeper appreciation for our firefighters at Fire Station 9.

Click here for story

I write this particular blog in memory of the 19 brave souls that lost their lives fighting the Yarnell Hill fire. Condolences to the family, friends, and community in mourning. As a way to honor the fallen, maybe we can find a way to show appreciation to our local firefighters. At the very least, we can follow Hudson’s example and send up a prayer on their behalf.

Reevaluating Failure

My husband and I have been married for 15 years now. That’s a small miracle in this day and age! Like all marriages, ours has seen ups and downs. During some of our rougher patches, we would enter into counseling. There’s nothing like having a third party to team up with you to help tell your husband everything he’s doing wrong, right? WRONG! The only way that counseling will ever work is if we allow it to nurture an environment where we are not only seeking to be understood, but we are also seeking to understand. After all – we can’t change the other person. We can only change ourselves, our reactions, etc.

It was in one of these counseling sessions that I received a challenge that has since changed my view on the inevitable experience of failure.

After sharing what I thought Sean needed to do to make our problems all better, our counselor gently challenged me by saying “Sarah, I think you need to reevaluate failure.” It took awhile for my ego to allow the truth of that advice to soak in. But once it did, I was able to look at the conflicts in our marriage differently. It didn’t need to be all or nothing. If we were taking steps forward in our communication, I didn’t have to assume we were right back to square one if another miscommunication or conflict arose. I could view the time in between conflicts as victory instead of each conflict as a failure; all while still striving to do better the next time. It may sound like semantics to some, but that little shift in thinking has helped me tremendously. Because we all know that fear of failure can keep us from trying. And we know that experiencing failure can keep us burdened and broken. But when we learn to reevaluate failure, we can still move forward in victory; even if things don’t go exactly the way we had hoped!

I had to remind myself of this truth just yesterday. I had proudly posted via Facebook and Twitter that my son had finally been potty trained! What takes some parents days had taken me weeks to achieve. (I’m told kids on the spectrum tend to have more difficulty.) Initially Hudson would wet his pants every 10-15 minutes. Then he learned to hold it 30 minutes. Then it turned into an hour. Then eventually he was telling me when he needed to go. And so after 2 days of dry undies, I felt compelled to celebrate my victory with cyber friends! And as if Hudson’s bladder were attached to my “send” button – he began having accidents again. Two pee and one poop! I started thinking maybe I hadn’t trained him yet. Maybe I was celebrating too prematurely. I even felt a little embarrassed having publically announced my son’s victory. And while I was cleaning Hudson’s third accident, I decided to let go of my frustration. I decided to go big picture. And once I did, I was able to see that he was still having far less accidents then when we first started. I was also able to take in the possibility that maybe it was just an off day. Just because he had an accident didn’t mean he wasn’t trained.

How much easier is it for us to see everything that isn’t going right? Don’t get me wrong, it is important to challenge ourselves and others to do better; especially in areas that are keeping us from fully being the person we were meant to be. But how many of us miss out on new experiences, celebrations, and personal growth because we’re afraid to look a fool? How many of us have unfair expectations on others because we don’t have eyes to see someone who may be taking baby steps. After all – any step forward should be considered victory! Isn’t that the kind of person we want in our corner - a cheerleader? Isn’t that the kind of friend we want? The kind of spouse we want? So shouldn’t that be the type of person we strive to be? The type of friend? The type of spouse? The type of parent? I believe it is all possible not as we aim for perfection, but as we learn to reevaluate failure.

Take Time to Chase the Lizards

Last weekend, our family decided to take a day trip and stay the night in a little place called Alamo, NV. I don’t exaggerate when I say little. The population is just over 1,000. The church we serve at has an attendance 6x the size! All that to say, it forced us to slow down and…chase the lizards!

One of the highlights for me was Hudson discovering these desert dwellers. They were everywhere! Both Sean and I grew up in the deserts of Arizona and can remember catching lizards. They’re quick and skittish so you have to be pretty stealthy to claim your reward. But the funny thing is, despite their abundance in Alamo, Hudson didn’t notice them right away. He was fixated on something else on the hotel property. Decorative wagons. Pretty much anything that has wheels is going to have my son’s attention. As he is fixated on the broken wheels of an old wagon, I’m watching lizards scurry from here to there trying to avoid capture. At one point, Sean and I were sitting at an outside table talking while Hudson was exploring (you guessed it) a wagon. As I looked over, I noticed a brave little lizard chillin’ on a rock almost staring at me. For whatever reason, he wasn’t afraid and didn’t dart off like most do. So I called Hudson over to check him out. Even with the lizard right in front of him, he didn’t seem to notice it. But then the lizard moved and it was as if a whole new world opened up to Hudson. This was the perfect “first lizard” for Hudson because it was almost as if it was playing with him. It would scurry and hide under a rock. When Hudson would step further away, he would pop back out until Hudson got within touching distance. This hide-n-seek interaction lasted about a minute or two. But even after the lizard was no longer playing, Hudson was already on the lookout for others. The wagons were no longer his focal point.

It warmed my heart to know that a new interest had found it’s way into my son’s world; something that had broadened his little worldview. He discovered that Tonkas and Hotwheels and broken wagons aren’t the only things that are fun to explore. As I celebrated this little victory with my son, I realized we tend to be just like him. We focus on the things that are right in front of us on a daily basis: work, grocery shopping, potty training, bills, etc. How much of the world do we miss because we’re too fixated on the same old things? How many of our relationships suffer because we’re too distracted to give them the time they deserve? How often do we take the time to just stop and chase the lizards?

I think this little trip was just what we all needed.



Here are some links that helped make our little trip a pleasant one:
Windmill Ridge Inn
TripAdvisor
Geocaching
Pahranagat Wildlife Refuge

A Lot Has Happened

My dad used to say that “the smallest deed done is better than the greatest intention.” Well – my intention was to maintain a blog as a way to keep family, friends, and even strangers encouraged as they read about life lessons learned from Hudson. My actual deed was posting only one blog in a year! In that year, a lot has happened. To quickly summarize – Hudson has finished his first year (technically 6 months) of pre-k. Once he turned 3 – his Early Intervention Services completed and he became eligible for the autism program offered through the school district. I was extremely hesitant because had my son not been diagnosed – he’d be home with mom baking cookies or finger painting or making couch cushion forts. Not attending all day pre-k! But before he was eligible for the program, the district had to assess his skill levels. After their assessment, they put together an Individualized Education Plan (IEP) for him. An IEP is meant to set specific goals for Hudson based on his specific strengths and struggles. These are some of the goals set for Hudson based on his severe language and social delays:

• Hudson will match red, yellow, blue, circle, square, triangle
•  Hudson will identify big and little
•  Hudson will identify 4-6 body parts
•  Hudson will color in a given area
•  Hudson will complete inset puzzles of 3-5 pieces
•  Hudson will indicate the need to use the toilet
•  Hudson will respond to social greetings
•  Hudson will participate in basic turn taking activities
•  Hudson will attend to teacher directed activities
•  Hudson will classify objects by sorting them into categories
•  Hudson will express prepositional locations of objects
•  Hudson will improve his ability to formulate meaningful utterances to request, comment, describe, and answer

By the time we got through all of his goals – I felt like laughing! All I could think was “good luck with those!” It took a long time getting him to sit through and somewhat participate in a 45 minute playgroup. How in the world did they expect him to attend all day pre-k? Well, I figured we could at least give it a shot. And if it didn’t work, then I could pull him out. After all, pre-k isn’t mandatory.

And so his first day of school finally came. We packed his little lunch and pull-ups in his cute little camouflaged backpack that was bigger than him! And as I’m sure all parents do – Sean and I cried after we dropped him off. We cried because we felt cheated out of “normal” toddler years at home. We cried because we were nervous for our boy. We cried as the reality of our son’s autism settled in a layer deeper.

Even as I recall and write this post – I have gotten a little teary eyed. But this time it isn’t fear-based. These are tears of joy. I’m so proud of our boy because not only has he enjoyed school – he has met just about every single one of his goals! His vocabulary has grown. His ability to sit through activities has grown. His awareness of other students has grown. And on top of all of that – he seems to genuinely enjoy school! One of the last meetings we had with his teacher before summer started was to update his IEP. Old goals were met. New goals were set. And this time, instead of laughing in disbelief – I’m laughing in excitement to the new ways that Hudson is going to grow. A lot has happened in a year. But this is just the beginning!

Go Hudson!