Happy Birthday, Melissa!

In this happy picture, I am posing with one of my best friends in the whole wide world. Melissa is so fantastic and has become like a sister to me. She makes me smile and laugh, and we have great adventures together, including hunting down our favorite authors all over the Southland! She loves books as much as I do, and she is the one who introduced me to the Twilight series waaaayyy back when the books were new and Stephenie was a regular visitor to twilightmoms.com. Melissa was one of the original Twilight Moms and got to visit more than one movie set and meet Robert Pattinson and the other stars. She has been on TV in various capacities, sings at Segerstrom Hall on a regular basis, and is the queen of all that must be organized. I love her sense of humor, her capacity for understanding, and the value she puts on friendship. She is very creative -- coming up with awesome ideas for her girls, whether it's for their scrapbooks, for their parties or to reinforce a spiritual lesson. She is passionate about education and I know that she will change the world for the better. God has given her so many talents and gifts, and I am very happy that she shares those with me. Happy birthday!

Letting Her Fly

Fulton Middle School had its Back to School night last night, and for the first time, I really got to see what my daughter will be doing this year. She has been in school for four weeks, and she's doing great, but I really had no idea what challenges she was facing each and every day. I came home in awe of my 11-year-old and what she has done in this first month at a new school and with more challenging curriculum.

1. She has figured out how to use her locker.

2. She has devised a system for keeping her classes and schedule straight so she knows what books and folders are needed and when throughout the day.

3. She has navigated the PE scene, where she can dress out for PE and then back to her regular clothes with relative ease and virtually no embarrassment.

4. She has charted a course so that she can make it from the front of the school where her English and Social Studies classes are to the portables in the way back of the school for math without being late.

5. She has found ways to have fun and laugh despite having to carry the heaviest backpack in the world.

6. She has bounced back from an incident in science where she forgot her assignment and received a zero.

7. She has made some new acquaintances and has enjoyed getting to know familiar faces better.

8. She has learned to check the school email system every night so that she can double-check what assignments are due and compare that information to what she wrote in her notebook.

9. She has chosen a wardrobe and hairstyle that reflect her personal style and make her feel good about herself.

10. She has been patient with me as I flit around her not knowing how to help and wanting to make her transition to this new school easy and painless.

After hearing what her teachers have in store for her this year, I am thrilled for my daughter. For the first time ever, she is being asked to use the brain God gave her and is being taught amazing things. She will not have an easy time, but I was impressed with what the teachers want these kids to learn and the creative and innovative projects that await them. My only concern is what do I do now? How does my parenting style that involves so much protecting and shielding line up with my daughter's newfound joy and confidence?

All I can do is open my palms so that the little butterfly can see the open sky and watch in awe as the butterfly dances upon them before taking off. She stamps her tiny feet on my palms so that some of the dust from her wings shakes off and lands there. She'll know the spot to come back to. She'll recognize it. All I can do is send her soaring and watch how she uses the currents to fly higher or dodge danger. All I can do is hold my breath as the sun threatens to scorch her wings or the rain threatens to drive her down. All I can hope is that she'll alight safely in my palms again although I know that she'll never tolerate my palms closing over her. She's seen the sky; she knows how to fly now. I will have to find new ways to protect her that don't diminish her need or desire for the wind.

Grace: rabble rouser and funniest person ever

Gavin and Sean decided long ago how they felt about their sister. As soon as their consciousness evolved and they realized who she was, they both crowned her "funniest and bestest person alive." Grace has always been a great sister to them. She's made them laugh and created wonderful games and shared her books. Now she makes for great entertainment because they know they can annoy her. She is and always has been the life of their party.

Grace, for her part, has enjoyed their attention, has created fun games for them, and has tried her best to teach them valuable life lessons (Gavin, catch the ball like this. Sean, you are not playing fair.). In the past couple of years, however, she has become even more important to them as they have decided that her jokes and funny sayings are the world's most creative. She can rile these two up just by walking in a room. If I am still teaching lessons when she breezes in from school, I need at least 30 minutes to get the boys back in focus. One line from her can leave them breathless on the floor from laughing. (Africa is a lima bean!) The worst thing is that they repeat EVERYTHING she says whether they understand the context or not. A line from Grace is pure gold -- comedic genius that must be repeated as often as possible.

One of the latest gifts from Grace is the fart/burp game. Using every ounce of tweenage creativity, Grace and her pals devised a game where when you burp, you stick your pinky finger on your forehead and say a color: "blue," "green," etc. When you pass gas, you stick your thumb on your forehead and say a shape: "square," "circle," and the like. Now the boys took to this game like pigs to mud, and, of course, normal colors and shapes do not apply in this game. So now EVERY MINUTE OF EVERY DAY, I am faced with unusual colors and made-up shapes being shouted from every corner of the house because even if you do not do the burping, you still get to comment.

buuurrrrppp: "Cerulean!" "Mahogany!" "Ding!" (more on ding in a second)

fffaaarrrttt: "Rhombus!" "Hexagonal prism!" "Trectangle!" (more on that in a second)

Having children who a) like to one-up the other and b) are never happy with traditional choices means that I get to hear really bizarre things every day. For instance, Grace and her friends have voted and "ding" is now officially a color and Trectangle is a new shape -- I haven't asked for a drawing yet, but I do plan on it. I had to laugh this morning as Grace and two of her friends sat around the breakfast table, burping and dinging all morning long, with an occasional pause for a rhombus or two.

Grace, I thank you for your off-beat and strange humor. It makes our house loud and fun, and it makes your brothers love you to bursting.

Photography

Grace is taking a photography class at Fulton. These were a few of the shots she got while on a "nature walk" on campus. So cool!

International Talk Like a Pirate Day

September 19 is International Talk Like a Pirate Day. How do I know this? I'm not really sure why I have remembered the date, but Kevin and Bean from KROQ talked about it years ago, and since then, every September 19 has found me dusting off the pirate lingo and spending the day accosting folks with "ARGH!" or "Ahoy Matey," which as you know is the standard pirate greeting.

If you choose to participate tomorrow (and you should), you can also pepper your conversation with the following:

Avast me hearties!

booty (one should always use this word, even if it's not talk like a pirate day)

shiver me timbers

Davy Jones's locker

land lubber

There are many more examples on the Talk Like a Pirate Day website. You can also find out your pirate name, which can be helpful when you find yourself in a situation where you have to identify yourself to a group of pirates. Saying your name is Sheryl Mosher isn't as impressive as saying your name is Captain Ethel Kidd.

Have fun tomorrow. Try talking like a pirate in church. I know I'm going to. It might bring a whole new and deeper understanding to the message. Or it just might bring about "Arrrrrmageddon."

If you've got a problem . . .

Yo, he'll solve it. Check out his moves while the

DJ revolves it . . .

Word to your mother.

Love Letter to Sean

On one of the last days of school for the boys, Sean was working steadily on a project at the kitchen counter. He was hunched over, busily working, and then asked out of the blue about military school. My boys often ask things out of the blue, as this is their nature, so I wasn't totally surprised. But I was curious about the subject matter this time. He turned around and said in a very concerned voice, "Mom, do kids at military school ever get to come home?" When I told him that they do get to come home on holidays, his eyes welled up, "You mean, they don't get to come home on their birthday?" When I told him that no, most would not be home on their birthdays, he just started sobbing. I told him to climb in my lap and hug me, and I promised him that I would never send him or his brother or his sister to military school because, after all, you have to spend your birthday with your family.

Such is the life of my son, Sean, the sensitive one. He is always one breath, one heartbeat away from feeling deeply about a person, an object or even a piece of music or a poem. He is, like his sister, always feeling what others feel. He can put himself in their shoes, and he doesn't like it when the outcome isn't happy. He wants happiness and joy always, so he is affected by music that is dark or suspenseful. He can sense when someone is going to be embarrassed by something in a television show, and then both he and Gavin -- who is also very in tune with embarrassment -- will run from the room with their hands over their ears. Only when he knows things will turn out okay will he venture back in to watch. Sean is my child who needs to take walks during movies when the tension is too high or the music is too powerful.

Because of this bounty of emotional energy, Sean is both irresistible and difficult. He is the child you want to shelter from the storm, comfort in sorrow, and jump for joy with because he truly experiences all these things. The difficulty with emotions is that they are fleeting and can be temperamental, so he may whirl things up and just be mad. He experiences almost everything to the fullest, so anger is part of who he is. He seethes when teased instead of letting it bounce off him.

Sean is so very smart. He spends a lot of time thinking and dreaming up ideal video game scenarios and cool inventions. His imagination knows no bounds, and he doesn't apply normal boundaries to things. He is a free mind, willing to look at impossible things as just events that haven't happened yet. If you want to have a conversation about space travel or time travel, you can have a pretty good one with Sean, and it won't matter if the science isn't sound. All those details are relative.

Sean is a child who can meet his own needs. This has led to some funny situations, like his ordering room service when he was four because he wanted to try some warm milk. He doesn't sense boundaries the way others do (we're realizing now this is part of his ADHD -- more on that later), so he finds a way to get what he needs. This sounds like rationalizing bad behavior, and sometimes he does do things wrong, but other times he is simply searching earnestly for ways to meet his own needs. For instance, getting a book in class to read during silent reading when it's not time to be out of your seat, asking the librarian immediately where the book he wants is as opposed to spending some time finding it, peppering Grandma with video game requests the second he has a new one in mind, navigating through the world of "cheat codes" on the computer to find out how to conquer the next level. He is not afraid to try something if it means that he can achieve his objective. And yes, Grant and I see both the danger and the potential for greatness in that character trait.

Sean makes me happy most days because of his willingness and desire to share himself and his feelings. He wants hugs and kisses from me and will walk up and ask for them. He is so complicated and lovely and open. I cannot wait to help him grow up into such an amazing man, in tune with his emotions and able to share himself with others. I want to teach him to live passionately and enjoy life while accepting society's rules and to not get too discouraged when life gets tough and messy.

Back to School

This picture was taken on August 30, the first day of CAVA 3rd grade. The boys were up and ready to work (and eat breakfast) at the counter where we do our lessons. They were in a great mood for the first day of school (going out for doughnuts really helps), and we buzzed through our lessons in record time.

Grace was home on our first day of CAVA because Fulton didn't begin until later in the week. It was nice to have her home for our first couple of days, even if she does rile up the boys a bit.

Here is the daughter on her first day of middle school. She was awake early and ready to go. It was a Thursday, which is early day, so she didn't have to worry about packing a lunch. Her bookbag was heavy enough with the binders and school supplies, but she was confident and felt good about starting her year.

I am so much more calm for the start of this school year. I was actually looking forward to the start of school, not because I wanted the kids out of my hair or I was craving a routine (although I do like a good routine), but because for the first time in a long time, I am not stressed about the outcome. I am not worried about my boys. I am confident in my daughter and eager to see her rise to meet new challenges.

Thank you, Lord, for small mercies: for the beauty in first days of school that are free from anxiety and worry. Help me manage my insecurities and anxieties so that there will be many, many days like today.

The Unforseen Conclusion, Part II

Picture by Grace Mosher

Well, so much has transpired since summer, when our fact-finding mission about the boys heated up and then came to a graceful end. It was one of those life experiences where you are terrified going in -- scared to hear the diagnosis, trembling at the thought that so many mean-spirited, horrible people could have been correct in their assumptions about my children. Was there something terribly wrong with them that made them unable to keep quiet in the classroom, ask questions non-stop, be obsessed with Pokemon and other video games, prefer adults to children, get really, really upset when they lost a game or did poorly on a test, or refuse to participate in activities that they knew they wouldn't be good at? What did all these behaviors add up to? Only God knew, and once again, He provided an answer that surprised me -- a second, unforseen conclusion.

In May, on the advice of our pediatrician, we took the boys to see a neurologist in Long Beach. I was so worried that these boys had autism or another spectrum disorder since that is what certain teachers and others kept intimating. I didn't want that diagnosis -- no parent does -- but I was finally prepared for it. I needed to find out what was going on in their heads. What made these boys tick? If they needed help, I was going to have to ignore my pride and get it for them, so we began the journey with a trip to Dr. Lake.

The boys were their usual talkative selves, asking the doctor questions and providing running commentary. She asked me questions and then listened while I gave her our whole story, stopping to acknowledge the boys and their interruptions whenever they occurred (something I really liked about her). She then paused and said, "I don't really know why you think they have a spectrum disorder. I'm not really seeing that." My heart leaped. "For one thing," she continued, "they both immediately engaged me the second I walked in the door." (we know that is their way -- talk to EVERYONE, ALL THE TIME.) "Children who are affected by spectrum disorders do not willingly engage anyone, even those children who have been in therapy and understand social protocols. They usually have to be approached first. I'm really not seeing this, but I will refer you to a specialist if you are interested, though I'm not sensing you are." (She was quite astute.) However, I am seeing something." I drew in a breath and held it. "I think they have ADHD."

I was shocked. I had never in my life considered ADHD since both boys can sit for a really long time completely and totally engaged. And they love learning about anything, so they don't jump up and run around and miss key points of a lesson. What I didn't understand about ADHD is that it affects children differently and there are host of symptoms and behaviors that accompany the diagnosis.

I left there amazed and relieved. While we would have to learn more about ADHD and the symptoms, overall the boys would be okay. I was relieved to learn that there was something concrete that was driving some of their behaviors. I was amazed that the same condition that affects millions of children also affects my own. But most of all, I was encouraged and humbled that my God had been watching over these boys and us all the time, steering us toward this eventual path. Along the way He knew I'd hear some devastating words from people, so He made sure I had wonderful friends and confidantes there to shore up my defenses and keep me sane. He also showed me some teachers who are amazing and love all children, so I wouldn't be so disgusted with education as a whole. He knew that I would eventually get to a place where I needed to know the truth, and He was there to surprise me with some unexpected news. I am grateful for such a creative God, who delights in surprises, rescuing His followers from seemingly impossible situations and providing unforseen conclusions that cause us to behold Him in awe.