Updates from the Farm

It has been almost five months since I last sat down to write. Someone asked me about the blog a few weeks back and I had to pause for just one wild moment as stories and images flickered through my memory. It feels like a lifetime has passed.

So here are the significant events from the last handful of months:

Lily almost went into anaphylactic shock after consuming a Macadamia nut the day after school let out. Our summer was spent reading the backs of food labels, making certain there were no traces of tree nuts because while she is only potentially allergic to a few of them, the one would almost certainly kill her if she did not administer her medicine after an exposure. I was reprimanded by the allergist about this and he did not seem amused when I explained that the gas station apparently doesn't sell epinephrine. We are getting along dandily.

We inherited 7 kittens....and the best part about it is that no one really thought much about me owning several dozen chickens but when told we have 7 kittens in our attic now, they look at me like I have lost my mind. So, here's a little hint guys: it's not the kittens that put me over the edge! But truly, they are the cutest things. Now a bit more adolescent-like, they each mimic the personality of the owner who claimed them. Liam's cat, for instance, is the friendliest of them all, preferring companionship over things like eating....he has the biggest, happiest purr. Solomon's cat, on the other hand, refuses to follow social norms, has pulled off and hid two collars now and is at once, loving and cuddly and alpha and stubborn. Hmmm. 

While Kurt toured Italy with Aidan for a few weeks, the rest of the kids and I took a trip down to Florida. We all had a blast, it was great to be home and for the first time in a long time, I left with the  urge to just stay a while longer....and by longer I mean I spent a week looking at houses on Zillow, just to see what would be in our price range, you know, just in case. It would be hard to give up my make believe farm-life, but I am pretty sure I would get over it. (Or perhaps hide a few chickens out back.....with the kittens.....)

When we got back to PA, Marco came to stay with us. (He is the 13 year old Italian cousin Kurt brought home.....never question your spouse's souvenir choices....unless you have to feed them and keep them alive....) A month with Marco deserves it's own post but for now let's just say, there was never a dull moment.....and while we loved having him, I might have been okay with just one or two dull moments!!

Soccer started back up and then school and then Solomon got suspended because of a pocket knife (again, he probably deserves his own post....shoot, he probably needs his own blog!) and then Halloween came and went and now it is truly smack dab in the middle of fall and everything I am juggling seems suspended in time and space, ready to either fill us up or overwhelm us into submission. I guess we will have to wait and see. But, I hope your home is enjoying this season, though fleeting and indecisive in nature. I am grateful we have it to share, if only for a little while.

Most Enthusiastic Baseball Player Ever to Walk the Earth

Steele: I want Rudy to dress in my place Coach. He deserves it. 
Dan Devine: [Laughs] Don't be ridiculous, Georgia Tech is one of the top offense teams in the country. You are an All-American and our Captain, act like it!
Steel: I believe I am. [Lays down his jersey on Devine's desk and walks out]

****

Players and Fans: Ru-dy, Ru-dy, Ru-dy!
(Insert viewer's heart ripping from their chest and, oh, the tears.)


****

If you know the movie, you know the scene. You know how those collegiate athletes, one by one, walked into the office of their Notre Dame coach and laid their jerseys down, asking him to let Rudy take their place in the last game of the season. You know how, eventually, the coach confirms Rudy's spot to dress for the game and run out on the field. You know the swell of emotion and uncontrollable tears of joy that the movie elicits from there until the end.....

We watch the movie Rudy a lot. Well, at least we did before it went missing. And we remind our kids of the determination that Rudy possessed, the belief in his ability to accomplish his dream and meet that goal of running onto the field for a game that he never gave up on.

In our family, Liam is our Rudy. Substitute little league baseball for college football and far less athleticism and size and you have our little Liam. He is the most enthusiastic baseball player that ever walked the earth. Grinning from ear to ear as he plays, he cheers (often for himself!), he gets passionately mad (sometimes) when he strikes out and he evokes joy and happiness from not only our team's parents but from the parents of every team we play. He is the only kid that the team shouts for when headed up to bat.

"Li-am, Li-am, Li-am!"

The kids genuinely want to see him succeed and urge him forward, even when he goes a full season without ever hitting a ball. He loves the game and when he is at home, his glove is on, ball in hand, as he pretends to play in our living room, commentating in a hushed whisper the play by play in his imagination. And while he will likely never be an All-Star, he doesn't let his developmental delays and Autism get in the way of playing his favorite game on earth with the hopes of playing forever.

So, it is understandable that while I watched the last few minutes of baseball camp yesterday, the part where they gave out awards, that I would feel an immense pang of sadness and heart break. The truth is, Liam has made huge strides. He has gone from not being able to even throw a ball, much less catch one, to actually making plays ever so often; fielding the ball and even throwing kids out. He has gone from being scared of even standing in the batters box, to actually batting with a fair amount of ease, sometimes even getting on base. And ever so often, he scores a run. And it makes his entire week.

As I stood there though, listening as they called up the the fourth place and third place and second place and first place winners for each age group, I felt such pain in my heart. Liam would likely never be one of those kids. If only the world gave awards for enthusiasm and joy.

But as the ceremony was coming to an end, the high school baseball coach leading the camp, paused and then very deliberately spoke about a player who had been knocked out at the very beginning of the competition but who had been unfazed, cheering every one else on, enthusiastically encouraging each player, applauding and boosting up every one of his teammates as if he, himself, were the one about to win. And for this, the Camper of the Week award goes to Liam Wolf.

The kids went wild! They screamed and cheered loudest of all for the smallest among them. And then chanted:

"LI-AM! LI-AM! LI-AM!"

(Insert mom's heart ripping from her chest and oh, the tears....)

He might not make it to the World Series, but he has certainly stolen this crowd. And while the world doesn't often reward enthusiasm, his enthusiasm will undoubtably reward the world.

Hot Cross Buns

Hot cross buns!
Hot cross buns!
One a penny, two a penny,
Hot cross buns! 


Hot cross buns!
Hot cross buns!
If you have no daughters,
Give them to your sons!


I got a voicemail yesterday:

"Mrs. Wolf, this is the principal from the Primary Center. I had Solomon in my office just now and apparently in lunch he was throwing food at kids in the cafeteria and uh, in Music they are singing the song, um, Hot Cross Buns so at lunch he was standing up, singing that song and smacking his bottom while he, ha ha, was doing it and then pretending to shoot the kids with his finger....."

Imagine getting that voicemail, one in which, not even the principal can get through without cracking up, and then trying to reprimand the camouflage laden seven year old sitting in your car as you wait for the bus to arrive:

"Solomon, you cannot stand up on the table in lunch and smack your bottom while singing Hot Cross Buns....it isn't acceptable behavior." (Said no one with a straight face ever!)

Solomon did his darndest to keep a serious tone as he replied, "Ok, I know, Mom" and then burst out laughing as he almost choked on his words, "BUT IT WAS SUPER FUNNY!"

And I am sure it was. But, as I explained to him after his genuine, uncontrollable and entirely too infectious belly laugh subsided, just because something is funny does not make it right. As Steve Martin so wisely put it in the movie Cheaper by the Dozen, some things are "Funny, but WRONG!"

Parenting this one might very well be a long and laborious journey. And as my bestie down the street so lovingly pointed out, perhaps I need to mentally prep myself for his future endeavors because if the military thing doesn't work out, he might become an aspiring Chippendale performer....

Hey, at least he has options, right?

Life Without Focus

"Hey Mom," Lily said, on a car ride home from soccer one day. "Can I get a blow torch?"

Snapping out of my daydreaming, "Wait, what? Uh, no.....no you most definitely cannot."

"Oh darn," she said, as if she half expected me to say yes.

😳

From the title, you might think I am going to go into a rant about living a life without purpose or meaning; perhaps complaining about the black hole that is being a stay at home wife and mother (and for the record, whoever named it "stay at home" mom/parent, never had kids....at least not 5 of them because there are many days I WISH I could just stay at home!)

But no, today is literally about focus, or the lack there of; about how I turn my phone on to look at my calendar to see what the day holds, get distracted by the idea that maybe if I had a better organizational system things would run more smoothly, so I go into the app store to see what kinds of apps they have for that and I miss waking the kids up on time (or did I wake them and they didn't actually get out of bed? That must be it.) So, at least one kid is late to school but the others hurry to get ready and actually walk to the bus stop as if they do it all the time (first time this year?) and then I blink twice and it's 2:00 and time to pick up kids and start round two and whoa! What happened to the day?

I can waste time like I get paid for it. Come to think of it, I wish there was a job for that: Professional Incessant Time Annilater (my husband would call it a PITA for short 😂) because not only could I work from home, no training necessary, but I would surely make a GAZILLION dollars (assuming there is commission on just how much doesn't get finished) and be the employee of the year! I told my friend the other day that no matter how many houses we have lived in, they have all been starter homes. Every house is a starter home for us because there are always five thousand projects started, but never finished. (That's an approximation of course, could be more....) What can I say? I'm a starter, an ideas person.....not always a follow-througher.....

My world is a buzz of business without accomplishment. There are continuous cycles of dishes, and laundry, and pets and overwhelming stacks of papers. (My family alone has taken out at least one full rainforest.) And then there is the wandering mind that goes from each thing, like a bee flitting around flowers, consuming time, space, life. Sometimes, on a good day, I might make time to breathe. Sometimes.

And sometimes it is overwhelming (unless you are my spouse, then it is ALWAYS overwhelming). Sometimes I liken it to the life of a flea, making huge leaps from one random animal (project) to the next, looking for a choice place to settle down, lay down some roots, really dig in, but eventually, hopping dramatically on to the next thing that catches my fancy.

Hey look! New chore....new project.....new entire life path idea! Let's go try THAT thing instead!

Squirrel!

Some of you are reading this and shaking your head (possibly in scorn and judgement). You don't understand how someone can choose to live like that, disorganized, scattered, flying a million miles per hour without a particular destination in mind. (Pat yourself on the back. You are probably a really good adult. Maybe you even have a fantastic career, well behaved and responsible kids, and are on top of everything your life touches. Success is your middle name. Well done, Super Adult.)

But some of you get it, possibly too well. Some of you recognize the plight as similar to your own. Some of you see it as the cross you carry....others maybe even find a little peace in the absurd chaos. There is comfort knowing life is a flurry of activity and whether you control it all or not, the end is the same for all of us. (Judge THAT Super Adult!.....But go ahead and feel good about yourself that you didn't just research therapeutic rabbit wheelchairs for the last hour....)

Maybe Lily is on to something.....a blowtorch might make some things a lot easier.

Here's hoping you have a wildly productive day.....or perhaps a wild day that adds just a little bit of unADULTerated joy. 

Risks

It has been three long weeks. Kurt left for his hunting trip the day I drove the kids down to Florida to pay our respects and show our love to my grandmother who had passed after 99 incredible years. (More on her in a later post.)

He came home and immediately flew to Italy with our oldest daughter, Madeline, who had been invited to go train with a group of girls at Chievo and Genoa.

The night we went to go pick them up from the airport, after two weeks of flying solo, Liam could not stop talking about the weather. He went on and on. (And on and on and on....) Soon it was a slew of questions about the differences between tornadoes and hurricanes.

"Which one is worse?'

"Which one would you rather be in?"

"Why are we safe from tornadoes at our house?"

"Have you ever been in a tornado warning?"

"What did you do?"

"Do tornadoes have names?"

"Why not?"

"How many hurricanes did you survive?"

And on.....and on......and on.....until even I could take no more.

"Liam, we are done talking about the weather and natural disasters," I announced.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I am done answering those questions. Please pick a new topic." (I might not have been quite so polite.....)

Silence fell over the car. Briefly.

Then I hear Solomon from the way back of the truck say: "Hey Liam! Did you know there is a slight chance of death when you drive on the highway?"

😂😂😂😂😂


Well......he's not wrong.

We All Have Something

Since we are on the topic of Liam.....recently I took Liam to see Madeline's therapist, Miss H. You see, one of the main comorbidities of people with Autistic Spectrum Disorder is Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. While OCD affects around 2% of the general population, 30-50% of people on the autistic spectrum also have symptoms of OCD, if not full fledged OCD. Liam has been displaying some signs of anxiety and panic recently so we decided we would have him seen, hoping to get on top of anything before it gets out of control. (Yes, I still live under the illusion that I have some control in these matters!) While at that appointment, I asked Miss H if it was appropriate to talk about Liam's diagnosis with him and she confirmed that we should probably speak with him about it sooner than later.

So, here's how that went.

Liam, Lily, Solomon and I were sitting amongst the mess of the little boys' bedroom before bedtime when I impulsively decided: Hey, let's have that talk now, without any plan or thought about it whatsoever.

"Liam," I started. "Do you now why you go to the support teacher's classroom everyday?" (Lily's eyes widened.)

"No," Liam said, full of smiles and an air of laughter. "But everyone goes there sometime."

"No, not everyone," I replied. "Do you know why you go to the social skills class in school?"

"Yes....um, no," he admitted.

"Well, do you know how we went to see Miss H last month because you were having some anxiety?"

"Yes....."

"Do you know why Madeline goes to see her?"

"Yes. Because she has OCD," he said enthusiastically. (You could almost see him tallying his score in his head.)

"Do you know what OCD is?" I asked.

"Obsessive Compulsive Disorder," Lily chimed in.

"OCD is something Madeline has that makes her brain work a little differently than other people. She has to take medicine to keep it under control and she goes to talk to Miss H in order to work through the ways her brain is different," I explained. "And recently your brother, Aidan, was diagnosed with ADHD because his brain works differently as well. His brain is like your dad's brain and my brain and most likely Lily's brain. We all have various levels of ADHD which means we have issues with certain things like organization and focus and distractibility among other things. You have something different with your brain, too. It's called ASD which stands for Autistic Spectrum Disorder. When you were a little boy, we noticed you did some things unlike other kids and so they evaluated you and diagnosed you with Aspergers which is kind of a high end form of ASD."

"Well, what does Solomon have?" Liam asked.

"Nothing," Lily said.

"Not that we know of anyway," I added.

Liam looked at Solly, grinned and then ecstatically blurted:

"Ha! We all have something....except you, Solly! You don't have ANYTHING!"



 * * * *



So,  admittedly, I didn't see THAT coming.

My Made For TV Movie

Just to be clear, I did not make a movie. But sometimes I feel like I am in the middle of one, that the plot is unfolding with obvious foreshadowing, crystal clear yet dynamically developing characters (oh the character sketches I could turn in now....if only I were still in 9th grade!) and the most humorous and/or grace-filled moments in the most unexpected of places.

But, the problem with being the woman who defines "mess" in "hot mess mom" is that sometimes I miss things....like, big-ish things.

A few weeks back for instance, I was standing near the soccer field, randomly taking over the concession stand duty while watching Lily play when I got a call from Kurt. Liam had just hit his first home run.

Now, I use that term as loosely as a definition can be used. You see, it was the first time Liam had hit a ball that went beyond the foot in front of home plate. For reference, a few weeks before this, my bestie neighbor, who had graciously donated her time to take Liam to his game since we were stretched too thin (aren't we always?), called to tell me that Liam had hit the ball. "Well, he made contact," she said, which she assumed he had never done before because the entire crowd went wild. It was a proud moment for him, one that Kurt and I completely missed but heard about for several days following.

But this was different. Liam had actually made contact with the ball AND the ball moved forward, straight to the pitcher. And then, as if that were not enough to be completely thrilling, just when one thought the play was over at first base, the first baseman missed the catch and Liam, in all his determined glory, kept running. ("Run, Forrest, Run!")  He must have had it in his head that he was not stopping until he was either safely home or undeniably out because base after base he ran, through mistake after mistake by the infield who, much to everyone's surprise, simply could not stop him. The angels were smiling on him that day (actually, probably every day to be honest) because the kid, who at nine years old still struggles to run straight half the time, made it all around the bases and safely home to the cheering and adoring fans. My understanding is that both teams' parents were cheering when he arrived at home plate.

Now, I have heard the story so many times, I feel like I was actually there. Liam, who crossed home plate, half laughing, half crying, tears rolling down his face and his whole body shaking in complete exhilaration, had just hit his first "career home run" as he would tell us later.

I arrived an hour too late. Because I'm mom of the year. Duh. (And to make it worse, Kurt showed up right AFTER it happened. The fact is, when you have 5 kids, you miss a lot of things. Sigh.)

Somewhere toward the end of the game, the coach put Liam in left field, next to where we were sitting. We watched as the pitcher threw the ball, the batter swung and hit it; up, up, up it soared, straight toward Liam. Liam watched the ball, adjusted his feet just slightly, actually put his glove up in the air and by the grace of the baseball gods, he caught that fly ball.

Out!

His eyes widened. He took a double look at the ball in his glove to make sure he had actually caught it and started waving the ball in the air, cheering for himself. "I caught it!"

He was as surprised as the rest of us. "Did you see that?! Did you see that?!"

Everyone went wild. You would think he had just made the final play of the World Series. It was the first out of some random inning in the middle of a random rec league game. But for him, it was a highlight in his life. The kid who almost quit last season because of fear now hit an in-field homer and caught a fly ball for an out, all in one game. Progress.

He has a blessed life, even in light of his differences. Or maybe, just maybe, it is because of his differences that we are able to see the little things as blessings. And when "life" hits the fan, it is those blessings that continuously hold us up, when we remember to let them.

Admittedly, sometimes it feels a little like living with Rudy....or living smack dab in the middle of Rudy, our own little made for TV movie.... And we are oh so grateful.