A Hard Day with a Sweet Finish

Today was rough.  Both kiddos were more disobedient and whinier than usual.  Kiddo was not cooperating when I tried to work with him on his lesson, so I gave up.  I was tired and my patience was wearing thin with them.  The clinic where we go to OT and speech called and said they need an updated referral, as ours expires soon.  So thinking it'd be a five minute phone call like it usually is to get a referral faxed over, I gave the doctor's office a call.  This call took a whopping 37 minutes, with me being put on hold several times and the kiddos interrupting other times.

And I was worrying about Little Brother, about how he keeps sloooowly adding new words to his vocabulary (he must have 200-300) but doesn't combine them in phrases.  He should be doing that by now.  The magic number of words a child usually has before he starts combining them is 50 and we're well past that.  For example he can say 'more', and he can see 'please', but he won't say them together, even if I tell him too.  So I worried again that maybe I'm to be a mama of two kiddos with apraxia.  Double the speech therapy appointments, double the bills, double the heartache and hard work.

I was frustrated and worried and overwhelmed, so Hubster suggested we go out for lunch.  It sounded great, so we piled in the car, had a great lunch, ran a few errands, and then on our way home I got pulled over for going 5 miles over the speed limit (luckily the officer just gave me a warning).  I was mad as I drove home, making sure I followed the speed limit exactly, since the officer happened to follow me pretty much all the way home.  Mad not so much at the officer or the warning, but at how things in my life were going.  So, when we got home I plopped the kids in front of the TV, grabbed a few chocolates and my Bible and determined to spend time with God.  Question where He was in all of this and what He wanted me to learn from all this, and why He wasn't answering my most desperate prayers for my sons and their healing and their words to come quickly and effortlessly.

Little Brother decided it was the perfect opportunity to snuggle me.  I can't turn down Little Brother snuggles.  And then Kiddo wanted to show me something he had found.  And then Little Brother wanted a snack.  And then Kiddo wanted a drink.  And then Little Brother threw a toy at Kiddo.

And I yelled at them. Fear filled their faces and I instantly regretted everything I said. I snuggled my boys, told them I loved them, then sent them to watch TV.  Finally they did, but I was no longer in a seeking God kind of mood, though I desperately needed Him.

I went on Facebook.  A place I know I should avoid, because I'll read about all the cute things my friends' kids are saying and videos of the milestones they're making effortlessly, and instantly feel sad, but I wanted to do something that would make me feel normal, that would distract me from my angry and sad thoughts.

After 5 minutes of reading articles and random things my friends are doing, I came across this blog post posted on the apraxia support group page:  "To the Mamas of the Special Ones on the Hard Days".  It was a refreshing read and made me feel so much better.  So, not alone.  I felt encouraged to take a few minutes to myself guilt free before spending time playing with the boys.

And then I did play with them.  And I heard Kiddo say a new word "Oos!" (oops!)  I heard it several times throughout the evening, and it made me smile every time.  That new word, that grin when Kiddo said it for the first time, well it made my heart release the frustration and soak in the victory.

And while we were playing outside, Kiddo pointed to the sky.  "Ook!" he said.  I didn't look.  "Oh, yeah, an airplane."  "No Mama.  Hecopper".   I stared at him in surprise.  I've never heard him say helicopter before.  Jeez, that's a hard word to say, but Kiddo was trying it on his own without practicing it over and over again like we oftentimes have to do.  He came up with his own motor plan for it.  Victory!

And then, Little Brother said his newest word too.  I was kissing him all over his face and he was giggling so hard he couldn't catch his breath, and then he gasped and said "Sop!"  "Did you just say stop?" I asked him.  "Yeah," he said.  "Sop!"  I grinned.  A new word, I'll take it.

Or when my children say any new word.  :)

And then, bedtime rolled around.  After Kiddo was all snuggled in bed and we had read his book before bed, we prayed together.  Sometimes I do the praying, sometimes I do it fill in the blank style.  I decided to fill-in-the-blank it.  Me: "Thank you God for ____."  He said his name in response.  "Me," I corrected.  "And thank you God for _____."  "Eesus!"

I choked back tears as I told him, "Yes, thank you God for Jesus."  I've never had any indication that Kiddo understands anything relating to God, Jesus, Bible stories, except for identifying "baby Eesus" at Christmas time.  I've never prayed before using the words "Thank you God for Jesus."  It was his own spontaneous thought and it filled my heart with hope and joy.

We finished our prayers and I kissed that precious little guy goodnight and as I left his room it hit me: God had answered my angry prayers through the mouth of my apraxic child.  How amazing, how incredible is that?  Though things may be rough, I am so thankful that God sent me His son Jesus, to give me strength for all I need to do, to give me peace when I'm feeling overwhelmed, and to forgive my anger and frustration.  And just as I ache inside that my children are not where I want them to be developmentally, oh how much more God's heart must have ached when His son was nailed to a cross He did not deserve.

Yes, thank you God for Jesus.