From the Wolf Den: Disabilities and Fear

I've been talking mucho this week with one of my oldest friends, D. who happens to have 11 children. Many of these kiddos are in the same behavioral boat as Wolf, with issues such as Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, Asperger's, and other physical and behavioral diagnoses. Given the past few weeks of ups, downs, and even bigger ups and downs, I needed to unload on someone who, without a doubt, has been there.

I've written before that I don't believe it is an accident the two of us are raising children with disabilities. Whether destiny or Mission From God, I can't think of another person to whom I would rather express my daily frustrations, ministrations, and fears. Especially the fear part.

Fear often takes center stage for many of us, and in varying forms. Fear for our children's physical well-being and the pain surrounding it; fear for their future; fear of their failure; fear for our sanity; fear for how they look to other people (yes, vanity plays a part).

It has been interesting to witness my own personal journey through fear, and its partner, anger. Yep, fight or flight has held a pretty strong grip upon my heart these past 16 years, and even before.

Face fear? Yes, we've all heard the stories, read the books, been to the seminars. Knowledge is Power and all that. But looking fear straight in the eye as it grips your psyche and soul and saying "I know you are there and I'll let you stay for a bit, but then you'll have to move on", as if fear were an animal stalking my every move. That's another story.

I can feel fearful, terrified, even. But that is the moment at which I have a choice. I can let fear dictate my next move, and every move thereafter, causing me to yell at physicians, teachers, and even those I love. I can even yell at God. "Why don't you save me/him/us from all this, damn it?" I've wasted a lot of time doing this. A lot.

Or I can listen to fear, learn from it, and quietly let it go. A day is made better, a month made easier, a year gone smoother.

Two years, actually.

Sort of From the Wolf Den: The Teacher's Calling

24 hours later, and my blood pressure is back to normal.

Those of you with children who possess atypical behaviors, conditions, or disabilities that hinder their progress with all things education will understand in a heartbeat when I say the sound of the phone ringing once school has started brings nothing but personal angst.

Let's return, shall we, to the days of Wolf's kindergarten adventures, when his teacher would call with regularity, usually after I had arrived home, kicked off my shoes, and opened a glass of wine, which subsequently turned into the entire bottle. Oy.

I spent hours on the phone, in conferences, reading (and writing) notes, and begging with my son to "keep your hands to yourself", right up until 8th grade, so adding in preschool, I have been a shadowy presence in Wolf's education for almost 11 years. Hopefully one would be sympathetic to my unconscious reaction last night.

The phone rang around 8:30, after a long day post-vacation. Bear had told me, almost proudly, darn him, that he had received a "Red Card" for some of the day (Red, Yellow, Green is the process) but "ended up with Green, mommy". One thing I like about Rilke Schule is their subscription to the model "you are in charge of your own behavior" and rarely call parents. So when the phone rang, and Frau M.'s voice came over the line, I was worried indeed.

Hence the rapid rise in blood pressure.

And for all that, all my instant panic and pale-faced hand-wringing, all Frau M. wanted was me to come in and volunteer for the class. When my head cleared and I found my voice, I was able to answer in the affirmative, but I'm sure she thought me a bit odd.

Can't blame me, though, can you?

My

Final Big Trip Means Big Fun

We're on the final day of our six-day trip to Valdez, Alaska. We've not been here before, and I daresay I am kicking myself for not making the trip sooner.

I'm happy yet sad that we're heading home to plan 2011 trips and adventures for AKontheGO.com; I love to travel around the 49th state, but I also am quite anxious to settle some things around the hacienda before the snow flies. We saw the inevitable 'termination dust' on the way high peaks around Valdez yesterday, and it's only a matter of time before our little Chugach foothills show the same. Sigh.

Fine weather has prevailed, however, for most of this trip and for our anniversary today. We celebrated by taking a day-long cruise via Stan Stephens Wildlife and Glacier Cruises, to the tune of groaning icebergs, barking sea lions, and incredibly gorgeous, sunny skies. A great way to spend a day with my sweetie.

Painting, Alaska-Style

Yes, even painting the house means a different way of doing things in Alaska. Since our summers are short, so very, very short, most Alaskans try to cram every outdoor renovation and/or remodel into the June-August months, knowing, as we do, that every day past August 30 could mean the difference between success or despondent failure.

Which, ahem, brings us to our house, on August 30, 2010. That we started painting, this morning with the fabulous assistance (okay, total supervision of) Bill Harrison, aka Mr. Pedouin of the Biking Family fame. There is a special place in heaven for men like Bill who will hitch a ride from their cozy cabin in Fairbanks to spend a week or more hand-painting a behemoth of a 1970's split-level like our house, and knowing full-well that icy rain or bitter cold could make this whole project a miserable one, indeed.

We've been waiting for the perfect time to do this; three years, in fact. The paint chip had been taped to the inside of a kitchen cabinet for that long, as I agonized over the process. At least we're doing it, now.

The color is "Dark Sage" and it looks just dandy with the brown trim we started with and of course lost in the garage, so Bill had to pull up a board and have me take it to the hardware store to have them match it. Yep, he's finding out just how un-handy we Kirklands are...

The photo above is from the tail end of the day. Bill, frustrated a the width of the ugly T-111 siding grooves, was just about done with the day, the paint, and the house. In the interest of the company we had coming over for dinner, however, he kindly decided to roll over the zebra stripes for my benefit. I didn't even ask.

What a guy. I just hopes he sticks around when Yukon tells him that he wants a second coat.

A New Discovery

I'm wearing an apron. This is a new phase of my housewife-dom, of which my friend snorted with laughter and said "If you're a housewife I'm doomed." I'm not sure what she meant, but I don't think it was good.

Anyway, I've discovered a lot of things over the past four days, things I didn't previously have time for. Things like dust covering the ceiling fan over our bed. No wonder we pop Benadryl like TicTacs. Things like a frozen package of waffles from 2008 (I'm not kidding). Things like my sense of peaceful tranquility that I even have time to discover those aforementioned Things.

I've also discovered useful tips. For those who have only recently become acquainted with me, you might not know I am an out-of-the-closet collector of old cookbooks describing the best in home arts, preferably between the early 1900's and 1960's. They are a hoot, as if anyone would have time to devote to sewing slipcovers for the davenport today. Anyhow, I love to browse thrift and antique stores looking for these gems, and found on last weekend.

It is from 1978, but that's okay. Lots of funny things in it, like the pictures of housewives looking like Carol Brady. I did find a tip for removing baked-on grime from pots and pans, though, and I tried it. The tip? Put a few drops of automatic diswashing liquid in the pan and fill with water. No kidding, it works like a charm and the dang skillet looks better than it ever has, which is quite something, indeed.

Update on Back To School

This is what a day might look like for a mommy such as me who is now faced with an ENTIRE day to herself:

Deliver child to school and make it home in a record 15 minutes. Ahem.

Reheat coffee and drink, making note of the silence in and around the house.

Write an article, start to finish, without interruptions to wipe noses or other anatomical parts, fix the Lego police helicopter, or butter the toast.

Go to Costco without a small child draped in, across, underneath, or on top of the shopping cart. High five the receipt-checker at the door, because he knew why I was smiling so much.

Eat lunch on my deck with a favorite book, listening to NPR. Wish I had a glass of wine to go with the lunch.

Take the dog for a walk around the neighborhood, purposely NOT running because now I have time for a leisurely stroll instead of a mad dash because I have to be somewhere to pick up somebody.

Talk to my husband without hearing "MommmmmYYYY!" or "I WANNNNNT you NOW!" in the background.

I don't like it at all.

On the Road Towards Higher Learning: The First Day of School

I had philosphized the first day of Kindergarten blog post for a long time. I was going to emote, extoll and embellish my feelings of both joy and sorrow at depositing my second and final child into the wonderful world of Kindergarten. It would be bittersweet, sincere, and meaningful as my little boy left my arms and entered those of the Anchorage School District.

Not.

It was sort of a non-event, this first day of school, if you leave out the falling asleep at 10 p.m. and up and 6:30 a.m. part, due to a teensy bit of excitement on the student's part. But going to school? Eh, no problem.

I guess I expected something different, having sent one child to school still clinging to my leg like a bug some 10 years ago. Bear? His grand entrance consisted of both Yukon and I (dutifully carrying the camera) escorting him to Rilke Schule, a German immersion charter school we've been anticipating since it opened three years ago. Calm and eyeing his new classmates with the practiced eye of one who knows what he likes and likes what he sees, Bear was more than willing to sit at the "Grune" table with three other girls (how do teachers always know that girls really dig him?) and start right into his morning work, coloring a tugboat in great detail.

When Yukon and I lingered, chatting with Frau Judith and dropping school supplies into their respective bins, he casually mentioned over his shoulder, "You can go, now."

Oh. Right. Kindergarten isn't for parents.

Yukon returned after lunch to witness the presentation of the "Schuletuten", a paper cone filled with school supplies and treats and given to all German children when they begin school for the first time. It is very exciting and a rite of passage for the kids. You can see Bear with Frau Judith, his German teacher, in the last photo. She is wonderful and will be a good fit, for sure.

Tuesday being Alaska Travelgram Day, I could not attend the assembly, but shuttled home ASAP after a short phone conversation post-show. "Mommy!" my little-big-man shouted over the cell phone. "I LOVED my first day of Kindergarten!"

Oh, you have simply no idea how grateful I was to hear those words.