All posts by Becki

Mothering Monday: Color blind

My 3 sons and I walked out of a classroom into a hallway, and standing there was an inter-racial couple.  My 11-year-old, who knows nothing about being discreet, was very obviously staring at them.  He then started kinda laughing and pointed them out to us.  “Look,” he said, oh too loudly, “They look so funny together.”  Of course I was horrified.  I knew the couple heard him.  Without really looking at the couple I wanted to usher him away as quickly as possible.  But I wasn’t fast enough.  He started talking to them.  “Oh, no!  Please, God, make him stop!”  I silently prayed.  But he didn’t stop…

“You look so funny together,” my son repeated to them.  Then looking at the man, he said, “I mean you are one of the tallest people I’ve ever seen.”  Then he pointed to the woman, “And you are even shorter than my mom.  It is so funny with you two standing together.”  Then he turned to his brothers, “Do you see how tall that guy is standing with the really short lady?  Doesn’t it look funny?”  The couple laughed.  And I was proud and ashamed at the same time…

When I looked at the couple, they stood out to me because the man was black and the woman was white.  Even though I have friends from all different races, and I don’t believe any race to be superior to any other, and I don’t have a problem with inter-racial marriages – in fact I think God usually blesses those with the most beautiful children ever, I still saw color, and I assumed that was what my son was looking at too.

But when my son looked at them, he didn’t care about the color, he saw height.  And I love that.  I love that seeing an inter-racial couple doesn’t phase him.  I love that when he talked about them in the van on the way home he didn’t say, “that black man” or even “that tall, black man” and “that white woman” or “that short, white woman” it was simply “that tall man and the short woman.”

God, help me, like my son, to be color blind.  May the color of a person’s skin matter no more to me than the color of their eyes or hair.  In fact, help me not to look at the outward appearance, but to look at people’s hearts as you do.  “The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7)


Friends and Family Friday: Smiles from the mail

Yesterday I opened my mailbox and as usual it was full of circulars and junk mail and the dreaded bills… but there was also something in it that totally made my day…

A card!  And no, it wasn’t a Christmas card, a birthday card, a party invitation, or even a thank you card for a gift.  It was simply a card.  Not a text, not an email, not a post on my Facebook wall – but a handwritten card with a stamp and everything!

Why is that such a big deal to me?  Because it shows she took the time for me.  She pulled out one of her beautiful monogrammed note cards.  She grabbed a pen (that actually writes – that’s difficult in my house!) and hand wrote out her kind thoughts.  But she didn’t stop there, she had to look up my address (because I’m assuming she doesn’t have it memorized), wrote it on the envelope, put a stamp on the envelope, and actually mailed it.  All of those things take time – time that as a mother of 3, I know is precious to her, and it’s why most of my notes are through texts and emails and Facebook!  Now don’t get me wrong, I love receiving notes through texts, emails, and Facebook too – but this to me is above and beyond.  So thank you dear friend, for thinking of me and for taking the time to show me you care about me.  Totally made my day!  I’m smiling now just thinking of it!


P.S. What has a friend done for you lately that shows you she cares?  What have you done for a friend?

Thursday’s Thoughts on Home: My home and my heart

Money for us is extremely tight.  I don’t say that for pity, we’ve chosen for me to stay home with the kids despite the fact that my husband is a teacher.  (Which by the way considering how important and difficult the job is, is extremely low paying – but that’s a soapbox for another day.)  But anyway, we need new gutters and a new front door and exterior painting and new carpeting and our dryer stopped working.  I’d also love to redo our extremely outdated kitchen and give our bathroom a good overhaul, heck, I’d love to add another bathroom.  And oh, how I longingly linger in the comforter aisles because I’d really like to get a new one for myself and all my boys and new window treatments and new furniture and oh how I want, want, want.

I’ve always said that if money wasn’t a concern, the house is where I’d spend it.  Sure I’d get new clothes and jewelry and shoes and makeup and I’d take vacations.  But the home is where I’d constantly be finding something else I want.  I could spend hours, well probably even days, in Home Goods dreaming up new ways to decorate.  I could waste my life away staring at pictures on Pintrest, and planning my next project.

But then, I wonder what does that say about my heart?  It’s one thing desiring to have a nice, safe, energy-efficient haven to call home.  But really,  how would having the best of everything, perfectly decorated make me happier?  Wouldn’t I just find more that I want?

Last year, my church read a book called Radical by David Platt.  There was a really challenging section about our quality of life, “How Much Is Enough,” and how much money we waste on our homes especially when that money can be used for so much around the world.  I have to say that I read it with almost a “holier than thou” type attitude knowing that we live in a 1000 sq.ft. home and that almost all of our furniture are hand me downs.  I thought that section didn’t apply to me.  But then, ever so gently, God speaks to my heart.   I am not living in this home because I desire to live below my means so that I have more to share with others.  I live here because this is all we can afford.  There’s nothing “holy” about that because in fact if we had more, I’d spend it on our home, not on others.


“But then I realize there is never going to be a day when I stand before God and He looks at me and says, ‘I wish you would have kept more for yourself.’ I’m confident that God will take care of me.” 

― David PlattRadical: Taking Back Your Faith from the American Dream



So once again, I’m reminded of my imperfections.  But God is so merciful, and he does this so gently, not because He desires for me to dwell in condemnation and shame, but because He desires to grow me into a woman who honors Him with my whole heart.  And so I press on…

“Not that I already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.” (Philippians 3:12)

Sometimes being imperfect can be so tiring… oh how I wish I’ve “already obtained all this”…  But I guess that’s what eternity is for!  So friend, if you’ve read this, or any of my posts, and felt conviction stirring on your own heart, believe me it is not meant to condemn or shame you, but rather to encourage you to embrace your imperfections without settling for them.  Let’s Press On Together!

♥Becki, imperfect woman

Wednesday’s Wisdom from the Word: No words needed

Twelve years ago, I was pregnant with my first child.  From the beginning, the pregnancy was not a normal one.  I thought I was having my menstrual cycle.  But it seemed to go on too long.  I mentioned it and the fact that I was extremely tired to my mom, and she suggested that I might be pregnant.  I doubted it, but took one of those tests, and as usual Mom was right.  I wanted to be excited, but I didn’t think the bleeding was normal, so I called a doctor.  The doctor had me come in for an exam and an ultrasound.  He suggested that I go on bed rest because of the bleeding but then gave me all the normal “first visit” papers that included pamphlets for the hospital, prenatal classes, etc.  In my mind, after the ultrasound and the fact that the doctor gave me all the information about preparing for the delivery and the delivery, I assumed that everything would be fine.  I allowed myself to get excited and start dreaming about life as a mom.

But it wasn’t fine.  At my next appointment, the ultrasound showed that the baby had stopped developing and that I would miscarry.  Not thinking about the fact that she was talking in front of the patient, the tech said, “I knew from the last ultrasound that something wasn’t right.”  Well, gee thanks, no one mentioned that to us.  We were angry.  We were sad.  Not only were we mourning the loss of an actual human life, no matter how short that life was, but we were questioning what this meant for our dreams.  Were we going to be able to have children?

Then it was time to tell everyone who knew we were pregnant.  Looking back, the love and support was definitely overflowing.  But at the time, it felt insincere and hurtful:

You can always have another baby.  (Thanks, but I really wanted this baby.  God created a life through my husband and I.  No matter how short that life was, we loved it, but it died. )

The timing just wasn’t right.  (Thanks, but how was the timing right to go through this?)

Your body was doing what it’s supposed to.  (Thanks, but then I’d rather have a different body.)

There would have probably been something wrong with the baby, this is better.  (Thanks, but I don’t think this is better.)

You can always try again.  (Thanks, and yes we will try.  But that doesn’t make me feel better right now.)

I could go on and on.  The sentiments were full of love and compassion.  But they weren’t helpful.  There was one, however, that was helpful.  It was from my stepmom, calling from 2 1/2 hours away, “I wish I could be there to just sit with you and hug you and cry with you.”  That was what I needed, someone to just support me in my grief without trying to offer words to make it better.  Someone to realize that words were not going to make it better.

I always think of that when I read through the book of Job.  Job was a successful, happy, righteous man.  But then, all of his livestock and servants (his livelihood) died or were stolen, all of his children died, and his body was covered in horrible, painful sores.  Then, Job’s friends come on the scene:

When Job’s three friends, Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite and Zophar the Naamathite, heard about all the troubles that had come upon him, they set out from their homes and met together by agreement to go and sympathize with him and comfort him.  When they saw him from a distance, they could hardly recognize him; they began to weep aloud, and they tore their robes and sprinkled dust on their heads.  Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was. (Job 2:11-13)

I want to be that kind of friend.  The one who knows that words aren’t going to help, but all that is needed is my presence.  When friends come to me, I am very quick to offer my thoughts.  I try to make sure my thoughts are biblical, but they might not be timely.  I definitely need to say less and just be there more.  (Unfortunately, after 7 days of saying nothing, Jobs friends decided it was time to talk.  What they said sounds really biblical, but it did not apply to Job’s situation.  So they should have stuck with being the silent, supportive friends!)

♥Becki, imperfect woman

12 years later, we have 3 healthy boys, and 2 heavenly babies who never took an earthly breath.  I am thankful for the 3 boys and am at peace and content with life, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that in the stillness of my heart, I still mourn the loss of those 2 babies.  

Training Tuesday: 1 mile, stopping only if I keel over and die

I have been in a major funk… a major no exercising, eating out of control, no Bible reading, messy, selfish, lazy, uninspired, grumpy funk.  But today the sun was shining and inexplicably I decided to run. It had been way too long since my last run so I knew it would not be pretty.  But I decided that I had to “run” at least a mile – that the only way I would stop running before I hit the mile mark was if I keeled over and died.

Well I hit the mile mark and hadn’t died, so I said to myself that I could definitely do 2 miles and the only way I’d stop was if I keeled over and died.  I didn’t die.  Instead as I hit the 2 mile mark, I decided I could do 3 miles and the only way I’d stop was if I keeled over and died.  Well, I’m proud to say that with my guilty pleasure song Miley Cyrus’s “Party in the USA” blaring I passed the 3 mile mark today.  I know you are probably thinking “big deal, you ran 3 miles before” but it is a big deal.  I have been so unfaithful to my running and eating that the fact that I could run and actually did run a mile was miraculous too me – let alone 3.

As I was running, I started making all sorts of other mental goals of things that I should just do and the only reason to stop working towards is if I keel over and die.  Here’s probably the biggest one on my list:

  1. Be in single digit size clothes by the time I turn 40 (346 days away!)  I spent my teens, 20s, and 30s in double digit size clothes… I’d rather not spend the next 4 decades the same way.
So for today, I’m thankful for the sun shining and motivating me to get out and run.  I’m thankful I didn’t keel over and die, but went beyond what I originally thought I’d be able to do.  For tomorrow, I’m looking for accountability to keep running and eating healthy so that next year this time, my tiny hiny can be sitting here in my single digit clothes typing about something inspiring…

❤Becki, imperfect runner

Do you have a do unless you keel over and die goal?  I’d love to hear about it!  On a much less important note, but maybe more fun note… do you have a guilty pleasure song – what  is it?


Friends & Family Friday: Photo bottle cap necklaces

I’m not a very creative, crafty person, but I can usually duplicate other people’s ideas.  And even then, it takes a lot to get me motivated to plan, shop for, and actually complete a project.  But, recently, I actually came up with my own idea of what I wanted to make for the leadership team of my MOPS group.  I needed a gift for 21 women and I wanted something inexpensive but special.  So I swagbuck searched, remember I only search on so I can earn amazon gift cards, see below for a link to start earning while you do internet searching, anyway, I searched my idea to come up with how to create it.  I didn’t find exactly what I wanted, but found some things close and figured out how to do it.  Then I actually did it, and used it to give away as gifts for Christmas.  I loved them so much, that I ended up making about 30 of them for presents and they ended up costing less than $1 a piece.  Everyone that I gave it to seemed to really like it and since it was really easy, I thought I’d share what I did  … well, I suppose they could have been lying…

Photo Bottle Cap Necklaces









  1. Photo
  2. Self-laminating sheets
  3. 1 inch circle punch, or scissors
  4. 1 inch Flattened Bottle Caps (I got a bag of 50 Chrome ones off of Amazon for $6.25 plus shipping, click here for link)
  5. Glue Stick
  6. 3D Crystal Lacquer (I got a bottle off of Amazon for $8.85 but I only used about 1/3 of the bottle, click here for link)
  7. Hammer and nail, plus something to hammer on
  8. Jewelry Findings, I used 7mm jump rings
  9. Needle nose pliers to work with the findings
  10. Some type of cord or chain for the necklace, I used suede cord I found at AC Moore.
I know it sounds like a lot of materials… but it really is inexpensive if you make a lot of necklaces.  If you are only making 1 or 2, it will be pretty pricey.  I’ll do my best to explain what I did.  It may sound complicated, but it is super easy… I did it in steps, but when I was making 21 of them, each step took me about 1/2 hour to do.
  1. Crop your photos into a square.  You need a square slightly larger than 1 inch.  I think I cropped it to 1.1 inch on each side.  I tried printing them from my printer and they would run when I covered it with the Lacquer, even when I laminated it first.  So I opened Word, inserted multiple pictures onto a document, all cropped to 1.1 sq.inch and had it printed at Staples.  I put the photos in black and white, but printed it in color so the fullness of the black and white would be there.
  2. Laminate your photo – either have staples do it or use laminating sheets.  (This step might not be necessary, but with all the trouble I had with the ones I printed from my printer I didn’t bother trying without laminating.)
  3. Using the 1 inch circle cutter, cut out the photos.  Use scissors if you don’t have the punch, but the punch makes it super easy.
  4. Glue the photos onto the cap.  Let dry.
  5. Cover the photo with the 3D Lacquer.  It will look cloudy and you will almost not be able to see the photo.  Don’t worry, it will dry clear.  Let dry 1 day.
  6. Apply a second coat of 3D Lacquer and let dry 1 day.  (Almost forgot, since you’ll want to use your Lacquer again, it’s a really good idea to clean out the lid so that it doesn’t get all dried up in there… I do this with regular glue too!)
  7. Using a hammer and nail, punch a hole into top of bottle cap.
  8. Using needle nose pliers, put jewelry finding through the hole and close findings.  I needed to use 2 pairs, one to hold and one to open/close the finding.  *Make sure the finding is all the way closed, I didn’t on my sister’s necklace and the bottle cap fell off while she was wearing it.  Thankfully it fell into her shirt and I could fix it easily.
  9. Use some type of cord or chain for the necklace.  I just tied the cord, I’m sure there’s a fancier way to do it… but I’m only so good!
  10. That’s it!  You did it.  Go amaze your friends and family!

So that’s my crafty project… I know it sounds difficult, but believe me it’s not.  I’ve never worked with findings and jewelry stuff before.  If you want, you can skip putting the hole in it and don’t turn it into a necklace.  You can put a magnet on the back.  I glued some onto large wooden clips to hold papers or photos.  What I love, is that this was a project that allowed me, not a super crafty person, make something special for my friends and family inexpensively.  Enjoy!  If you do make some, I’d love to see pics of how they turn out!

♥Becki, imperfect crafty friend

Wednesday’s Wisdom from the Word: Servant hearts

This morning my 3 boys woke me up by coming into my room with a cup of hot coffee for me.  They greeted me with “Happy Birthday!” in their sing-song voices and big smiles on their faces.  Jeff had already gone to work, so the coffee greeting was all on their own – best thing I ever did was teach my 7-year-old how to use the Keurig!

I then drank my coffee while sitting up in bed listening to the activity in the kitchen.  “Go snuggle with Mommy so she doesn’t come out of her room,” my oldest directed my 5-year-old.  So as I sat drinking my coffee and snuggling with my youngest, I listened to my other 2 trying to decide what to make me for breakfast.  “Do we have any waffles?”  “What about cereal?”  “I don’t think she likes that cereal.”  “How about toast?”  “She likes toast.”  So they settled on the toast.  I hear the chair sliding over to the toaster.  “Mommy likes butter on her toast.”  “Where’s the butter?”  They must have found it, because the 2 of them paraded into my room proudly presenting a plate with 2 pieces of toast covered in what must have been a half a stick of butter.

I can’t think of a better start to my 39th birthday!  My boys’ acts this morning were ones of love and devotion filled with the desire to make me happy.  And they did make me very happy.  I’m still smiling thinking about it.

But here’s the thing, their “gift” to me was full of flaws:  1.  They first came in 10 minutes before my alarm was set to go off (which was even earlier than normal today because I had a MOPS meeting) – if you know me well, you know I am NOT a morning person and sleep as long as I possibly can.  2.  My MOPS meeting has a delicious breakfast buffet filled with fruit, breads, muffins, quiches, hot casseroles, so I NEVER eat breakfast before a MOPS meeting.  3.  If I was going to eat breakfast, I definitely wouldn’t have put a half a stick of butter on the toast.  4.  Ideally, the boys would have put the chair that they used to stand on back, put the bread away, and put the knife in the sink or dishwasher.

But none of that matters… I saw their heart and I am delighted.  To me, it was perfection just the way it was.

I then left to go to my MOPS meeting.  (What a great way to spend a birthday morning, with 63 other women!)  The topic of our meeting was service.  We made blankets for Project Linus – an organization that gives home-made blankets to hospitals, food pantries, homeless and domestic violence shelters to give to children.  We then had group discussions about ways to serve.  I started thinking about what keeps me from serving more.  Beyond the obvious of time and money, I realized that I sometimes get tripped up on wondering what I should do.

For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. (Ephesians 2:10)

This verse reminds me that we are created to do good works.  But I sometimes think the part about “God prepared in advance for us to do” almost immobilizes me.  I over analyze trying to figure out what God wants me to do.  And in spending so much time wondering what I’m supposed to do or how I’m supposed to do what I finally realize I’m supposed to do, I end up doing nothing.

But then I think of my boys this morning.  Their desire was to serve me and make me happy and they did what they knew how to do.  If they would have asked me what I wanted them to do, I probably would have given a different idea.  But I absolutely loved what they did, flaws and all.  Because of their hearts.  Perhaps, then God, being a more perfect parent than I am, is delighted whenever my actions are a result of my desire to please him, no matter how flawed my actions may be.

I’m not saying that I shouldn’t be prayerful about how I serve, I’m just saying that perhaps I need to stop worrying about what I’m supposed to do and focus on doing things that I know how to do, full of love and devotion for my God, filled with the desire to make Him happy.

♥Becki, imperfect servant

Mothering Monday: Kids receiving gifts

So what was Christmas morning like at your house?

Did your kids tear through opening packages, or did they open them slowly savoring each one?  Did they jump up and down with joy when they receive a gift high on their wish list while tossing others aside?  Did they show disappointment either verbally or visually when they received something they didn’t like?

Since my oldest son is autistic, I always am coaching him on social situations, and I’ve learned that receiving gifts is one of those situations that requires coaching.  Several years ago for his birthday someone gave him a Batman dvd.  When he opened it up, he started crying.  Uh oh… my eyes are darting between him and the giver of the gift.  How do I handle this?  Why is he crying?  I know he doesn’t like Batman, but crying seems a bit extreme.  I don’t remember what happened next, how we moved on from the crying… perhaps it was so traumatic that I blocked it out of my memory????  But I do remember the 2 of us talking about it later, and from what I deciphered he figured the person who gave him the gift was being mean – why else would you give a Batman movie to someone who doesn’t like Batman?  I explained how the giver didn’t know that he didn’t like Batman and most boys his age do so it was really a thoughtful gift.  He didn’t buy it… in his mind the giver was teasing him and being mean.

Ever since then, before any gift receiving opportunity (with any of my boys) I turn on the coaching mode.  “Wait until they give the gift to you, don’t grab it from them.” “Make sure to look them in the eyes and say thank you.”  “Tell them something you like about the gift.”  And then I start asking questions: “What do you do if you already have the present?”  “What do you do if you don’t like the present?”  Here’s what we’ve come up with:

If someone gives them a gift that they already have, they tell the giver, “Thank you so much.  You must know that I really like ____.  But, I already have it, so if you don’t mind, I’ll return it to get something else.  Thank you so much.”

If someone gives them a gift that they don’t like, “Thank you so much for getting me a gift.  It means a lot to me that you would get me something.”  I’ve coached them that they do not have to lie and tell the person that they like the gift.  But they need to remember that the person spent their time picking out a present for them and spent money on them because they care about them.  But sometimes the person happens to pick something that they don’t like.  They aren’t being mean.  They aren’t teasing.  They just didn’t know.  So if you ever give my children a gift and this is how they respond, what they are really saying is, “I don’t like it.” 🙂

So of course after all my coaching, we had perfectly gracious children through the Christmas season, pouring out their gratitude over each and every gift.   Well, ok maybe not… “I don’t think this is supposed to be for me” was still heard at our house when one of the boys was opening a present that was indeed for him.  But at least we didn’t have any tears…

What do your kids do when they receive something they don’t like?  I’d love to hear about it.


Friends and Family Friday: Christmas cards

It’s not as much fun getting the mail now that my mailbox is no longer full of Christmas cards.

I hear lots of people saying how they aren’t bothering sending cards anymore… but I’ll admit, I love receiving them.  I love looking at the family pictures and wondering about when they were taken.  I love reading the Christmas letters – even if they are full of bragging about how “perfect” their family is.  🙂  I love the artwork of the traditional cards.  (Especially the glittery ones.)  And of course the handmade ones impress me.  But when you pack away Christmas, what do you do with all the cards?

I’ll be honest, last year I just threw them away – my refrigerator was already way too cluttered…  But this year, knowing the time and money people put into picking out their cards, signing their cards, addressing their cards, and mailing their cards, I just couldn’t do that again.  Also since I’m trying to be more intentional about relationships I knew I needed to use them in some way.

So here’s what I came up with.  I told the boys that every night at dinner we were going to take one card and talk about that person or family (who they are, how we know them, etc.) and then whoever prays for dinner will also pray for that family.  So last night my oldest prayed for my friend, Karen, and her family that “They would all be safe.”  So sweet… I’m hoping that I’ll follow through on this and we make it through all the cards.  (Traditionally my follow-through is not as good as my intentions.)

Even with that idea though, I had the dilemma of what to do with the cards while we are praying for everyone.  So I came up with this idea:  I had an empty 8×8 scrapbook sitting around.  (I asked for it for my birthday 2 years ago because I was using Smilebox and I had plans of printing out 8×8 scrapbook pages for it… but, well, it’s still empty.)

So I filled it with the cards.  Each dinner, we’ll pull out the scrapbook and pray for the person or family on the next card.  But even if we weren’t doing that, I actually enjoy flipping through it now and really appreciate the cards a lot more.

Of course the question is whether I will do this every year, because after a while what do you do with numerous books filled with Christmas cards?  But I guess that decision is for another day…


What do you do with your Christmas cards?


Thankful Thursday: Mrs. S & Friend S

Yesterday I got an email from the elementary school principal inviting 5th grade parents to a middle school orientation.  Thankfully it’s not until March and they are just telling us now to make sure we have it on our calendar.  I am not ready to be a middle school mom.

I think under normal circumstances it would be difficult enough… but this is for my oldest son, my Asperger’s son.  I keep telling myself it will be OK, but I’ll admit my heart is pounding in my chest right now thinking about it.  I’ve never been a worrier about the future… I figure it’s not worth my energy now to worry about things that may or may not happen – I have enough to deal with today!  But this… this definitely gets my head swirling around in the “what if”s.

Academically, he has always been strong.  His problem has been his social skills, his work ethic, and his temper when he feels out of control of the world around him.  Problems started back in kindergarten with a handful of bad tantrums at school, got slightly worse in 1st grade with his interactions with other students, even worse in 2nd grade, and then fell completely apart in 3rd.  He did not want to go to school.  Wasn’t going to sleep at night because it meant waking up and going.  He hated it there and made sure everyone knew it.  He was teased and bullied and then he teased and bullied others.  It got to the point where I was being called in at least 2 times a week to calm him down because they couldn’t handle him.  He started having grand mal seizures while sleeping and the neurologist said that stress and lack of sleep would set them off.  Well, he wasn’t sleeping because he was stressed… so that was a set-up for disaster.

So I did the only thing I knew to do… I pulled him out of school and home-schooled him.  Thankfully, I knew someone who did the same thing with her son and she walked me through what to do.  We made it through 3rd grade by the skin of our teeth.  Then my son told me he wanted to go back to school for 4th grade.  I was terrified, but we sent him back.  The first day was uneventful and fine, but then on day 2, he started falling apart again.  After a week or 2, I emailed the teacher, the principal, the director of special education, the director of pupil services and I think even the Superintendent and told them that I was not planning on homeschooling him again and they needed to figure out how to work with him at his school or to find a placement that could (translation: work it out or spend $50,000 -100,000 of district money sending him to another school).

Within a week we had an IEP meeting with a whole lot of professionals.  The result was that he was moved into a support classroom with an Emotional Support Teacher, Mrs. S.  This brings me to the thankful part of this post…  Mrs. S. has been a lifesaver for my son.  She loves him, she guides him, she protects him, she’s his advocate, she’s his cheerleader.  She senses his mood and his needs and figures out how to approach him.  He has started not just making it through but thriving again at school.  He no longer wants to “blow up the school” (fyi… those were his words… but don’t worry, no one ever perceived a real danger there) and doesn’t even mind going.  Sure, he’d rather stay home and play video games, but what 11-year-old wouldn’t?  He even has said that he’d like to be a teacher one day.  My eyes get all teary thinking about where we are today compared to where we were.

Through Mrs. S’s guidance, he has also formed friendships.  He has one friend that stands up for him to the other kids, who will listen to him talk about Mario for hours, and seems to genuinely enjoy being around him.  This friend (who I’ll call Friend S) happens to be that same boy whose mother had helped me in 3rd grade when I home-schooled my son. Friend S has impacted my son in a way that I don’t even know how to put words to it other than I am thankful.  So through tears I type that I am so thankful for Mrs. S and for Friend S.

But, here’s why I’m so scared for next year… Mrs. S doesn’t move up to middle school with my son.  She stays at the elementary school to be a blessing to many other families.  And Friend S, well his mother got a teaching job at a Christian school and he’ll be going there next year instead of our middle school.  So we’re back to square one.  Yes, there’s an autistic support teacher there, so hopefully it will be OK… but what if it’s not?

“Breathe,” I tell myself as my heart speeds up again.  God has promised never to leave or forsake my son (or me) and I suppose that means even in middle school.   So I’ll try my best to live in today and thankfully, it’s only January and I have 2 1/2 months before that orientation…

♥Becki, imperfect mother of an Asperger’s child