Pics for a Purpose

The proofs from our photo session a couple of weeks ago are available for a short time at http://gallery.picsforapurpose.org/2009/Jenna/4-01-Walker/9975484_Koxna

The thumbnails don't do them justice. Use the slide show to view the photos or click on each one. Prepare to say, "Ah!"

Simply can't believe how cute our kids are.

Kelsey Creek Farm Fair -- October 11th

Finn's first time on a swing.

Papa & Jake

Meg and her buddy Sean

Jake in a fire engine

Doppelganger

Every once in a while, my mind wanders ahead to an unknown, mysterious time in our lives -- the future, more specifically Jakey's future. What will he look like? be like? Will his mannerisms have advanced? Will he be potty-trained? Still have echolalia? Where will he live? What will he do? Will he be able to communicate better? more than his needs? Will he have a job? Mostly I wonder if he will be happy and if he will continue to live with us. Ms. A, his teacher, has stated that she thinks he will be able to live in a group home. Will he? Will we want him to? I try not to go here that often. It's an empty place filled with conjecture and fear.

[What's echolalia? Echolalia is an unconventional verbal behavior that is common among children with autism spectrum disorders. Echolalia occurs when the child repeats verbal information stated by others (e.g., people's conversational exchanges, videos, books read aloud, songs, etc.).]

I long for a day when I may meet another mom who has a son like Jake, but her son is older, and she has been through it all. I want to hear her stories and tell her Jake's. Someone who can unveil some of the mystery, give some hope, and help with realistic expectations. Someone who can listen and talk and truly understand. Empathy given and taken.

Today is Baby Day at the Movies in Kirkland, and Finn and I made the 25-minute trek to join a bunch of moms and babies in laughter while watching Couples Retreat, fun flick. A group of teens/young adults with special needs were there to see Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.

One of the young men caught my eye, and I almost fell over. He looked like an older version of Jakey, same hair, similar face and eyes. He even had some of Jakey's quirks. Echolalia was present. The young man repeatedly said, "I love you," "I love me," and various sounds that I couldn't decipher.

He was handsome and sweet, and I just wanted to go up and give him a hug. I wanted to talk to him and find out all about his life. I kept staring at him and smiling. To excuse my staring, I told the woman next to me that he resembled my son, but she didn't understand that the resemblance went beyond looks.

The young man's companion was brusque with him when they walked up to the window to purchase their tickets. I can't deny that I wanted to deck him. Somewhat out of place since I've been brusque with Jakey on numerous occasions.

By the end of the movie, my mind drifted back to Jakey's doppelganger and Jakey's future. I wiped my tears, sniffed a bit, and packed up Finn so that we would be home before the kids' buses arrived. Tears and sniffles all the way home.

Up, Down, and Up Again

What a week for the Walker clan. It was so busy that I can barely remember everything that happened ... and yet, the list isn't that long.

Early in the week I finished a huge, important, and highly confidential work project. The research was intriguing and the pressure high. I needed to explain my process and explain one of the high risk items. I received kudos from my boss. So, hurray.

Meg played (approved) hooky from school on Tuesday and went with the male Bensons to the Puyallup Fair for the day. She had a great day.

Wednesday was exciting. I had won tickets to see the newly restored Wizard of Oz. Meg and I took the Mini, top down of course, to the theater. This was her first time seeing the original classic and my first time seeing it on the big screen. Actually, I hadn't seen the film in years, well, decades. When I was younger and the movie was shown during the Thanksgiving holidays, the flying monkeys frightened me, and I never wanted to see it again; now, I can't see what inspired my fears. The restored version was lovely, and I enjoyed sharing the magical experience with Meggy.

The same day, Jakey was sent home from school. They recorded his fever at 102.3 and said that he was flushed and lethargic. We never saw that version of our little guy. Once home, the fever disappeared as did the lethargy. Because of the rampant swine flu fears, he stayed home one extra day. By the end of Thursday, he was stir crazy and anxious to return to school.

Ah, Thursday ... culmination of another big project for me -- preparing 54 items for consignment at the Cute As a Button Sale in Woodinville. Cleaning, hanging, tagging -- I thought I would never finish. Drop off items at 2, return at 7 for the pre-sale. We didn't make much money, but now I don't need to find a way to donate the leftover items, and I was able to purchase a nice high chair and umbrella stroller for Finn at a fraction of the retail price.

Speaking of Finn, we've now tried carrots, and he loves them. His eating is still a little awkward, but he enjoys the adventure and I enjoy cleaning him up.

Friday was early release. Jakey had an odd comment on his information sheet so I called his teacher. I'm still a bit volatile when talking with her. She can be such a b****. She made me so mad that I was researching homeschooling kids with special needs that evening. While talking, I asked about our last IEP meeting in the spring. I wanted to know when we would have our first monthly meeting and if Jake's speech therapy had already increased. Both of these items had been agreed upon in the meeting. She flat out denied any agreement and said that both were impossible. Really?!?!? She even balked when I asked her to review her notes. Needless to say, Brian and I are composing a letter to send to her boss, who was at the meeting. Please pray that we are able to work through this quickly and to Jacob's benefit.

Here's a bit of a quirky thing from Friday, I woke up 15 minutes early and decided to do my Bible study in the morning instead of before bedtime like usual. Now I wonder if the Jake's-teacher-incident was in response to my early study or if the study was a prep for the incident. Another of God's mysteries.

While Friday was a tough day and night, Saturday took a nice turn. The weather was lovely, sunny and slightly cool. And, the Dragons, Meg's soccer team, won their game 1-0. Our first win of the season. Yes, it's her team, but it's also mine since I'm the coach. So, "our" is appropriate. For the last two seasons, they were a winning team, but this season has been a struggle. We have some major kinks to work out.

Saturday night, we returned to struggle. Finn woke up 3 times to eat, and return to slumberland eluded me twice.

Tonight, Sunday night, Brian and I will have a date, a much needed date -- MUCH.

Two milestones

Last Friday, Finn had his appointment with the nutritionist. He is no longer being tracked on the preemie baby graph. He has moved to the typical baby graph. She also decided that he is ready for solids. Feeding him rice cereal is hilarious. With his excessive drooling, he ends up with more on him than I make. More of a learning experience than actual nutrition.

Tomorrow is a most important day. 10 years ago on March 16th at 8:28 p.m., Meghan Jessica entered the world at Overlake Hospital in Bellevue, Washington. She was 3.5 weeks early and weighed 5 lbs, 3oz. Born with attitude and hunger, we called her a suckerfish since she would eat or suck on a finger for hours. Meggy is enchanting and innocent, loving and troubled. She loves deeply and fears pain. She is the definition of someone who marches to their own drum, but still she wants to be accepted.

I remember the time that she decided she wanted to know more about Jesus. We had just turned onto Novelty Hill Road from Snoqualmie Valley. I explained everything to her. She wanted to pray, but not yet. Hours later at bedtime was her chosen time, and we did it together. Meg always does better no pressure and time to think.

She would rather play than talk, growl than cry, draw than copy. At times our home resembles Krakatoa erupting when we clash -- too often, I know. But, those other times ... Meg and I cuddle. She still calls me Mama or Mommy. We call her Baby; even her beloved Gima calls her baby. She doesn't flinch at the name but always responds. If someone adds an article, she will adamantly reply that she is not a baby. And, she's right; she isn't. But, she is my baby and always will be.

Sometimes you have to let them do their thing

The other day when I opened the freezer, I saw two slices of white bread resting amongst the frozen foods. Odd.

Being the curious and not-too-neat sort, I left them there and hoped that one day I would find out how and why the slices were out of any packaging and in the freezer.

Days passed until the day Meg walked out of the kitchen with both pieces in her hands.

"Do you know why I put two pieces of bread in the freezer?" she asked.

Nope, but I sure wanted to know without dousing her fun. "No, honey, but I've been wondering why, " I answered.

"Well, I wanted to make an ice cream sandwich."

She put the bread back in the freezer for later, and I smiled, holding in my laughter for later when I told Brian. He asked me today if she's tried it yet. Nope, not yet.

Another day, another punch to the heart

The hardest part about today was trying to figure out why I was so upset about something that I already knew. Today, Brian and I (and Finn) went to the Autism Center at Children's Hospital for Jake's evaluation results. No surprise, he has been diagnosed with autistic disorder. It doesn't change who Jake is. The doctor told me two weeks ago that they were going to give him this diagnosis. His neurologist diagnosed him with autism last spring. And, yet, the only thing that I wanted to do was weep, bawl, cry, snot and all. My insides were writhing with sorrow; still are actually. I've thought of little else all afternoon and evening. Why?

At one point, I stood in the kitchen and stared out the window, didn't see anything. "Why?" echoing in my tired little mind. I've known. I've known for a long time. I saw nothing until I looked down at the golden lid on Finn's Enfamil powder.

"Because it's your baby."

Just writing it now, I choke on the sobs. Because he's my baby. We've mourned and rejoiced with and over Jake since that plastic stick declared that I was carrying him in my womb. We've mourned and rejoiced. We will continue to mourn and rejoice. Because he's my baby.

Tonight I asked God if that is how he responds to our pain and joy. Because we're his babies.

That would be a beautiful place to end tonight, but I need to add some garland, something that touched my heart. The doctor gave us a preliminary report to take home. Here is the second paragraph:

"Jacob has many notable strengths. Jacob is a happy, content child. He is loving, and enjoys cuddling or leaning on his dad. He tries to be funny (says "funny" and laughs). He tries to be independent in many things. He also has a caring and loving family who is committed to finding appropriate interventions for his needs."

How many people have such wonderful words written into their medical file? Jakey does. And, this isn't the only one.