All the games

Samuel was 3 years old. It was getting late as usual and I STILL hadn’t gotten him into bed. This was about the age when Samuel would begin to actually REMEMBER to brush his teeth before bed, but usually only when it was getting really late and I’d be desperately trying to “settle him down.”

So, Samuel had begun to become very diligent about picking out just the right pajamas, having the night light on and having the door cracked just exactly that 5 inches or so (just enough to see when mommy or daddy were coming down the hall so he could flatten like a pancake, shut his eyes and play dead if we came to “check” on him).

After the second trip to the bathroom, and a ½ glass of water, Samuel was insistent on reading another story because the first was “too short.” At that point, completely exhausted from chasing the whirlwind that was young motherhood with 2 little boys 15 months apart and one little boy (Ben) who at this point appeared to be nocturnal, I walked out to go get Dan in the hopes that he could give this bedtime thing t a whirl.

Dan walked into the kid’s bedroom and said “Look Samuel, tonight we’re going to go to bed. We’re not going to play games.” Samuel, being highly intelligent and equally animated stood straight up, spread his tiny fingers at the end of his little hands, looked directly up with his big sky blue eyes and while waving his hands back and forth as if preparing to pull a rabbit out of a hat, exclaimed, “Oh…I’m gonna play AAALLLLLLLL the games!!”

Wow. “Well” I thought, “at least he’s honest.” That hasn’t changed. The games haven’t either. In fact, here’s something weird; either playing the “games” is in fact a genetic condition, and each and everyone one of my four children inherited the “games” gene, or this is common among a vast majority of children.

My four adorable little creatures actually really do have a secret sixth sense. We all know that moms have keen intuition and just KNOW when something weird, wrong, or strange is happening with our kids but I hadn’t realized for quite some time that these little people have a very similar sense.

For example: I work from home. Talking on the phone is an important part of how I earn a living. It’s what I do when I’m “working” from home. I type on my computer, and talk on the phone. My kids know that. It’s been this way for years. Nothing’s changed.

However, most adults are on the phone at various times for various reasons. While not every phone call I take, or make is part of my “work”, It appears that my kids can detect exactly how important each call is - and to varying degrees. I’m not sure if it’s my body language, the fact that I try to “occupy” them busily while preparing for a scheduled call, or the fact that I often beg and plead on bended knee for a silent, and injury free 30 minutes. Whatever the case – as soon as that phone goes up to my ear…..let the games begin!!

Each and every time I’m on an important call whether it’s with one of Ben’s doctors, or a prospective client for my work, one of my children will have become injured, endure hurt feelings, need to tell something extremely important about one of their brothers or sisters, need help on the toilet, or have a life changing epiphany that they MUST share with me immediately.
The arguments inevitably begin about 3 or 4 minutes into the call. I start to pace, try to shoe them into another room and close my eyes in order to stay “in the zone” on my call. Oops, look at that – now one of the little ones has tried to pour themselves a cup of juice – and it’s gone down their arm instead of into the cup. Thank the good Lord above for the “mute” button! I say in hyper-speed auctioneer style….”did I say you could have juice? What are you doing?? UUHH! Please, go downstairs and play!”

With that I think I’ve got things under control – for about 2 minutes, just as I’m back into the full swing of my conversation – really thinking I’ve got this things mastered…and there it is. The shrill, high pitched SCREEAAM.

I run to by bedroom, shut the door behind me and start sweating – talking slightly louder now so as to try to drown out the background noise a story away.

Don’t think I’m callous. I don’t panic when I hear the scream, because it was not preceded by a loud clunk or thud – so I know no one is injured…..YET.

It’s only moments before they find me now – they know exactly where to look. Can I get out my sentence with grace and poise BEFORE slamming myself onto mute so as not to shell shock the person on the other phone when the tornado hits my bedroom door?

At this point, the games have truly only just begun. Now they’ve got me. Now they’re at the door and I’ve just been asked an important question for which I need to at least try to sum up an intelligent answer so, what are my choices? Well, there’s that awfully inviting window. The one I’ve thought of jumping out of on several occasions during times like this (don’t get too worried, it’s only one story up and at this point I wouldn’t risk jumping only to land in a pile of dog poop – one of the very piles that my oldest son promised he’d clean up 4 days ago) or there’s the more likely scenario of me literally trying to RUN past the noise – into the kitchen fast enough to open a box of popsicles and motion in my own secret sign language that only the “players” understand. It goes a little something like this: if they can manage to be quiet – they’ll get one…or 2….or 4 popsicles (depending on how long this conversation lasts).

While I’m circling around the house from room to room trying to stay quick enough so no one can catch me – but not so quick so that you sound out of breath – the very sweet little faces that I’m trying to out run, know exactly what I’m doing. And they take advantage of it.

They’ve got the TV on, my new wrapping paper completely unraveled, the cat dressed like a monkey and they’re now pretending to be cats themselves, complete with “snacks” in bowls on the ground next their little “water bowls” ON THE CARPET!

They learned pretty early on that I really can’t yell at them. Not the way I would when I’m fairly certain that only me and Jesus (and perhaps an unfortunate neighbor with an open window) can hear me. So, they will begin asking me questions in THEIR own secret silent language - mouthing words and suggestively shaking their heads yes while I absent mindedly agree with a reciprocal head shake – only to find out later I just gave them “permission” to turn on the garden hose and spray down the patio furniture AND each other!!

I am embarrassed to admit that on several occasions while having another conversation, I have actually opened packs of cookies or potato chips FOR my children that I’ve been handed, and in an amnesia-like state without even thinking about it opened them for my children – MULTIPLE TIMES. Did they ask if they could have cookies? No! But, they handed it to me for me to open for them. And I did.

So, is this learned behavior? Nope. It’s this pesky little thing called sin. And, it is indeed inherited. They were born with it. I was too. They’re just being human beings – trying to get what they WANT in life, but not necessarily what’s good for them.

Do I do this? I think so. I think I’m always on the lookout for a new “system” (game) that will help me achieve what I want in life – not necessarily what is best for me. As an adult I know I’m getting better at making decisions, but if I’m left to my impulses and if I’m operating in a mindset of “my” wants and desires while I think God is tied up helping everyone else at the moment – I’m headed for trouble.

The next best book, program, system, theory, mantra, prayer – you name it. It all looks great at the moment because I’m human…and seemingly rarely satisfied with what God has given me at this very moment. “But she’s got....” “But he’s doing….” “But they get too….” What must this sound like to God?

God is very busy at work. He needs our cooperation. He needs our assistance to accomplish enormous things not only in our own lives but in the lives of others. Can I be patient and quiet while following directions? Am I like a child – always busting into His work, trying to manipulate the timing of it all? Is there a very important reason why He needs me to wait or be “still” for a time being while He works diligently in the back drop of my life for the greater good? Hm. Me and my kids. We’re not so different.

Can I get my kids to “behave” like little angels every time I’m on the phone? Not sure about that, but I know one thing to be true – as they get older and more mature, they will begin to appreciate the work I did while they were small. They’ll see how it shaped all of our lives as a whole and how it allowed us to live the life we lived while they were young. They’ll understand why I needed them to be quiet, and it will all make sense to them. If only I could get them to see what I see. If only God could get us to see what He sees. How differently would we behave? How “urgent” would all those little things be that we needed, wanted, and had to do?

How did I get here?

“Single mom with four kids….” I guess I’m used to saying it now. It doesn’t sound strange – even to me.

I don’t like labels. Not even my own. What does it mean to be a “single mom with 4 kids and one with special needs”? Why do we describe ourselves in these ways?

Well, it’s funny because I don’t define myself that way anymore. I used to do it on purpose – for effect. Now, if someone wants to know anything beyond my name, they have to ask. It would be later in the conversation now that they would discover this information about me – if at all.

Why? What changed? I did. Those 9 little words that I would immediately use to describe myself served different purposes depending on the situation. Sometimes it would solicit sympathy, sometimes power, sometimes shock – but it was the time that it solicited the “so what” that caught my attention.

A little over a year ago when I asked a woman who’s book I had recently read, (“Conquer Fear”) how to overcome the “stigma” of being a --- that’s right say it with me, “single mom with 4 kids and one… ” her response stopped me. She said flatly, and with a hint of annoyance “WHAT stigma?”

Huh huh, ha…weeelllll… (the beginning to my brilliant response)… you know, the stigma of being a single mom!! No. I don’t know. There is no stigma” was her matter of fact response.
What? Oh. So if there’s no stigma, than what do I do with this very useful label?

Bingo. I’d have to get rid of it. That was Lisa’s point. It was a badge I was wearing that allowed me to describe myself in a way that either protected me, or allowed me to stay in a place that felt safe and risk-free. It was my excuse for not going for all the things I really desired in life. After all, I must not deserve them, have time for them, or be capable of them. Hm.

So how did I end up here then? When all I ever REALLY wanted from early on in life was a family, and a secure home with lots of love and a perfect happy little family – how did I end up divorced and raising these kids by myself through some very difficult circumstances?

I chose it.

I didn’t WANT it – but I inadvertently chose it anyway. Long, long ago. Whether I was conscious of it or not, I made choices based on beliefs that brought me right here. Sometimes the thing we strive for and WANT the most- eludes us.

You want to know why? I think I’ve found the answer. I think it’s because when that’s the bright shiny price – the trophy at the end of the race and that’s ALL we’re focused on, we stop paying attention to the way we are actually preparing to run the race!

Are we prepared? Are we all stretched out? Are we in good running condition? IS THIS THE RIGHT RACE?

I lost sight of HOW I was preparing to run the race. I put too much focus on the prize. From the beginning, around the corners and from mile to mile I had my head straight ahead waiting for the happiness, the security and the joy that I was running so hard to find. I never looked around! I didn’t notice anything else for the most part, and even when I did I safely readjusted my blinders so as to remain “on course” toward perceived satisfaction and perfection.

Here’s what’s interesting. After letting go of the “perfect” standard of what my family should look like (it’s hard NOT to when one of your children is standing naked in a second story window – or eating dog biscuits that look like cookies in the pet store line and all the other wonderful oddities that sometimes come with Autism) I find myself in this place full circle.

I didn’t do it right. I made mistakes. I could blame and point fingers. I could be a victim. But I’m not. I chose not to be.

Here I am. Full circle. I’m brave, I’m smart, and I’m strong as steel.

Is it easy? You know it’s not. It’s tiring – exhausting at times, but man is it worth it. I actually discovered in the process of becoming what that old label described (single mom…blah blah blah) who I am, and who’s I am.

I’m a child of God. My name is Stephanie. It means “Crown One.” I am a jewel to my heavenly Father, and oh yea – I’m PROUD to say that I happen to have 4 amazing children. One of my kids is coming through Autism! Don’t I have an amazing and blessed life??!

What’s your story, and who are you? REALLY.

Hi, uh - world.

Hi. I'm not really sure what I'm doing - what a "blog" really is - or if I'm indeed actually typing copy that will be seen on my new blog.

But I do know one thing for sure. I know that if you have kids, or if you like to laugh (or both) you and I have a lot in common and will be able to learn from eachother, and enjoy some perspective on this amazing thing called parenthood along the way.

Here's the thing - I've got 4 kids. I'm divorced and have been raising my kids for about 3 1/2 years now as a single mom. I'm going to tell you about my incredible babies later - but for now you should know that our lives are unique and interestng - to say the least!

My incredible 10 year old son is fighting Autism. I wish that was part of what made us "unique" but indeed these days - I'm sorry to say it does not.
Our journey and fight for Ben is incredible for all of my kids. Later, I'd like to explore this with you espeically if you have a special needs child.

In them meantime, I just wanted to get started, say "hello" and welcome you to my world.
Thanks for being a part of it!