Thursday, November 6, 2008

Escape to The Sexy Tour

Tomorrow morning, Matt and I are planning our escape. Don't worry, we're not running away permanently (although the temptation is often overwhelming). We're doing something completely illogical and driving to San Jose and back in three days. Why? That would be free tickets to The Sexy Tour with great friends.

Are you intrigued? The Sexy Tour ... hmmmmm ... is it Madonna ... or the Jonas Brothers ... or Usher? (Okay, I don't find any of those people sexy, but it's the best I could come up with.) Oh, no. The Sexy Tour features the incredibly hilarious, always, ah, sexy Jim Gaffigan! Here's what you might have been missing:




And of course ... the classic uniting of two of my absolute favorites! Pale Force!





We are thrilled to be seeing Gaffigan in person, but we're even more excited to spend time with our friends AND be alone together with no kids for three days!

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

An Irish prayer for tomorrow morning

This Irish prayer is attributed to Saint Patrick and often referred to as the "breastplate" of St. Patrick, i.e. words that shield. May Christ protect you today and be your strength. -Natalie


I arise today
Through the strength of heaven;

Light of the sun,
Splendor of fire,
Swiftness of wind,

Depth of the sea,
Stability of earth,
Firmness of rock.

I arise today
Through God's strength to pilot me;
God's might to uphold me,
God's wisdom to guide me,
God's hand to guard me.

Afar and anear,
Alone or in a multitude.

Christ shield me today
Against wounding:

Christ with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,

Christ on my right,
Christ on my left,

Christ beneath me,
Christ above me,
Christ in me.

I arise today
Through the mighty strength
Of the Lord of Creation.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Thomas Merton's Prayer ... and mine

MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

- Thomas Merton, "Thoughts in Solitude"

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Turning this thing around

I feel like I'm hunched over a huge steering wheel, using all my arm and back strength to crank the wheel desperately to the left so that I can change my semi truck's momentum and start heading a different direction. It's exhausting, the effort may fail (can you say crash, rollover, destruction?) and I'm not even sure what the new direction is. But I'm committed to the change and I pray that God will strengthen me to keep cranking on the wheel - or maybe even take over the whole thing. After all, what's the point of having a savior if I don't let myself get saved?

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Perplexed, but not in despair

2 Corinthians 4:1,2; 7-12

Therefore, since through God's mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart. Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God.

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.

Judas

They are not
what we thought they were.
An answer to the question. A stake
in the ground. Sunlight pushing
through clouds to brighten a
December morning in Duluth. No,

they are the cloud cover
and the question
and a concrete slab poured over
the soft earth of faith.

More Judas than Jesus, more
hidden than revealed,
we turn our cheek for the kiss,
close our eyes and know that
we are not
what we thought we were either.

Natalie Rust Morris - June 27, 2008

Friday, September 5, 2008

beautiful mess

She visits my garden overgrown during the
long rainy season. She brings her spade and
meets me out back eager for pungent handfuls of earth.
I can only watch from the kitchen window.

She hasn’t brought some guy from Home Depot’s
parking lot to do the heavy lifting. Working the dirt
with calloused hands, she observes the beautiful
mess and removes weeds one by one by one.

There’s no rush to the finish. Tentatively I follow
her lead, falling to my knees and accepting
the tedious work without knowing where it will
lead. No shortcuts here.

As dusk approaches, I notice we’ve set free only a
small section of the garden, leaving scattered
scarlet flowers in the ground. She has found
what she was looking for and so have I, for now.

“The rainy season brings more than weeds,” she says,
“and the beauty needs to stay.” I can only cling to
the words. Come the dawn I pull on my gloves and
step outside to find my spirit already at work.

Natalie Rust Morris – September 1, 2008

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Perspective for today

We love Evan. We also ache for him. Especially during periods like this where he seems to be hiding in his own world of anxiety, anger and the things that bring him comfort in the midst of it all. Of course we do our best to be a source of peace and love. Of course we fail and succeed day by day, moment by moment. And sometimes we shut down behind closed doors, throw up our hands, let the tears flow and admit that we have absolutely no idea how to help our beloved son.

Amidst fervent prayers and listening for God's voice and the voices of those we trust ... we read. Right now, I'm reading a simple yet profound book called Ten Things Your Child With Autism Wishes You Knew. Here's just a sampling of some of the words that have encouraged me today and reminded me of what I already know, but often forget.

"Raw fear motivated me in the beginning. I could not bear to imagine Bryce's fate as an adult if I did not do everything within my power to equip him to live in a world where I would not always be around." (A constant worry in our lives.)

"Here is the gist of what I know to be true. Your child's autism does not mean that he, you and your family will not lead full, joyous, meaningful lives. You may be scared, but dare yourself to believe this ... with a caveat. How much of that full measure we achieve with our kids is greatly dependent upon the choices we make for and about them given their individuality and uncommon character. A memorable passage from Nora Ephron's story Heartburn has the protagonist asserting that when your dreams break into a million pieces, you can either fall apart, or you can go get yourself a new dream." (Evan will never fit into the "box" so how can we help him learn to function apart from it?)

"The child with autism does need skilled guidance to achieve a comfortable place in the larger world, but working toward that goal with positive energy and optimism is not the same as 'fixing' the child. They already possess much that can be celebrated; we must now go out and love and guide them with the same acceptance of whole self we want for ourselves." (Mostly this is simple because we are crazy about him, sometimes it's incredibly difficult. But Evan deserves nothing less from us.)

"There is no shortcut to anyplace worth going." - Beverly Sills, mother of two special needs children

We don't want the shortcut, we want to do right by our Evan. And sometimes we just need a little perspective.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

What Nat's watching ...

I'm not a commmitted TV viewer. I tend to avoid anything that adds unnecessary anxiety and drama to an already melodramatic, overly anxious psyche. And when I watch TV I almost always multi-task by reading a book or surfing the net or writing e-mails at the same time. (Hey, that's what I'm doing right now!) These are likely the reasons I've never gotten into shows like Lost and Grey's Anatomy and 24 that everyone else I know seems to love. I just can't commit.

Instead, outside of the occasional Masterpiece Theatre experience, I choose to watch shows that don't require regular viewership and either make me laugh or cheer or say "hmmm...interesting." In that light, I give you - in no particular order - Natalie's top 8 TV shows, circa August 2008.

1) Conan O'Brien (NBC)
I'm a Conan junkie. I attribute my inability to fall asleep before midnight to Conan. If I hadn't met Matt when I did, I may have become a Conan stalker. Okay, that might be going a little bit far, but I do have a thing for a guy with a snarky, intelligent sense of humor and crazy hair. I can't wait for Jay Leno to go away ... and I'm not the only one!



2) Forensic Files (TruTV)
Matt doesn't get this one, given the whole avoiding stress and anxiety thing. My explanation is that the sad ending - someone's dead - is just a given, so I can relax and enjoy the scientific process for figuring out who's the bad guy. Plus, the narrator has the coolest voice ever and I can usually count on it being on early in the morning if I have trouble sleeping.

3) My Boys (TBS)
We have the Delaneys to thank for the discovery of this way too hidden gem. A sort-of sitcom without the painful laugh track, My Boys features strong writing, great actors and a group of characters that you just want to hang out with.



4) The Soup (E!)
Talk about snarky. If snarky was a real word, one might find this show in the dictionary as its definition. Wait...I've got to check the dictionary. Dang it! Snarky is there already ("Rudely sarcastic or disrespectful; snide"). Well, this snarky show gleefully makes fun of almost everything on TV and I gleefully go along for the ride.



5) Project Runway (Bravo)
Are you in or are you out? Although my idea of fashion can be found in combining Old Navy with TJ Maxx, I love watching the designers at work. Whether or not I understand why some outfits are better than others according to the judges, the cast of characters never disappoints. Make it work! Ahh, I love Tim Gunn.



6) The Office (NBC)
If there was a particular order to this list, The Office would likely be #1. Matt and I came late to game and we still haven't finished all of season 4, but there is nothing like this show to make me laugh until my stomach hurts. Maybe it's because Steve Carrell is a genius or because Pam & Jim have had the most realistic relationship arc on TV or because I've spent way too much time in an office myself. Always quotable, always memorable. Schrute for VP!



7) Cops (Fox and TruTV)
A classic. I have no real explanation as to the “why?” of my interest in this show. I suppose partially because it’s always on somewhere and requires no real brain power. If I drank more, I’d make up a drinking game related to the number of scenes showing wife beater t-shirts or nudity. Hmm…let me check on that one, too.

8) Reno 911! (Comedy Central and others)
A brilliant parody of a classic. And on TV almost as much as Cops. A bit surreal but always hilarious, this show follows only The Office and Conan in its ability to make me laugh out loud.

Monday, August 4, 2008

Morris Bucks

So the Morris family has officially introduced its new positive reinforcement program today: Morris Bucks! If the kids do certain tasks with a good attitude and without complaining (an essential caveat) they get a Morris Buck (or maybe two if it's a really big thing). Then, they can save up their Morris Bucks for different rewards (going to get ice cream, playing GameCube for 15 extra minutes, etc). Hopefully this will help them learn to be responsible and teach them to save up for the big things sometimes (getting ice cream would cost less Morris Bucks than going to McDonald's, for example) instead of going for instant gratification.

Knowing our kids, we felt this system would work better than a chart or stickers or that kind of thing because the "Bucks" are physical, tangible things that you can hold and store and count like real money. And being who we are, we had to put our own crazy spin on it and make our own money. No toy store money for us! Introducing ... Morris Bucks!!







Oh yes, Bella is the ultimate in Morris Bucks ... and we all used our superhero alteregos in case Morris Bucks get into the wrong hands somehow. :-) The kids definitely loved the customized "money" and that has energized the whole concept. We'll see how it goes!

Thursday, July 31, 2008

On the nightstand: Ruthless Trust

You have to read this book. Randomly last Christmas I bought Matt the book "Ruthless Trust" by Brennan Manning. Having loved his books that I'd already read, I assumed that I couldn't go wrong with this one. Fast foward to several months later as Matt and I found ourselves both struggling with the same spiritual issue: trust.

No joke, I had just said out loud, "I'm done. I don't think I can handle one more thing" when we got the call that Matt's best friend (who lives in NoCal) was experiencing liver failure and would need an emergency liver transplant. Guess who had to handle one more thing ... and more? After coming this close to death at age 43, Kevin's recovery has been rocky but on the right road and we are so grateful that we have the chance to enjoy more of life with our friend.

You'd think that Kevin's miraculous recovery would have strengthened our trust, and I suppose in some ways it has, but it has also been an intense reminder of how life can change in an instant. And that is scary. And do I really trust God with everything?

This book has been such an encouragement and a learning process for both of us about how God transforms us through "true and radical trust." Matt started reading it a month ago or so and I just joined the bandwagon last week. Here's just a sample - I don't have anything else to add but "Wow" and "you've got to read it."

"Uncompromising trust in the love of God inspires us to thank God for the spiritual darkness that envelops us, for the loss of income, for the nagging arthritis that is so painful, and to pray from the heart, 'Abba, into your hands I entrust my body, mind, and spirit and this entire day - morning, afternoon, evening, and night. Whatever you want of me, I want of me, falling into you and trusting in you in the midst of my life. Into your heart I entrust my heart, feeble, distracted, insecure, uncertain. Abba, unto you I abandon myself in Jesus our Lord. Amen.'

"In the arc of my unremarkable life, wherein the victories have been small and personal, the trials fairly pedestrian, and the failures large enough to deeply wound me and those I love, I have repeated endlessly the pattern of falling down and getting up, falling down and getting up. Each time I fall, I am propelled to renew my efforts by a blind trust in the forgivenss of my sins from sheer grace, in the acquittal, vindication, and justification of my ragged journey based not on any good deeds I have done (the approach taken by the Pharisee in the temple) but on an unflagging trust in the love of a gracious and merciful God."

California is burning, pt. 2

I promised that I'd post pictures of all of the smoke at Woodleaf and haven't yet, so here goes.






It felt really creepy to Matt and I, but everyone else at Woodleaf seemed to be taking it in stride, so I guess it was no big deal.

Anyway, I suppose I should slip in a couple of hilarious pictures of Evan and Bennett on vacation. These pictures show their depiction of what it would be like if they got frozen in ice in Wisconsin. Hey, we got desperate for entertainment on our 13 hour roadtrip to NoCal!




Sunday, July 27, 2008

Kindergarten Eve

Okay, I'll just put it out there. I'm a wreck.

I'm an all or nothing sort of person emotion-wise. My response to something dramatic tends to be a "hmmm...let me philosophize on (or ignore) that for a while" or to become an anxiety-filled, tear-ridden mess that no one wants to be anywhere near.

Bennett is headed to kindergarten tomorrow. I've known it was coming since February 1, 2003 at about 3pm. The real countdown started about this time last year. Evan thinks having Bennett at Hull Elementary will be awesome (although last thing I heard tonight Evan's personally refusing to enter the school grounds ever again). Bennett is a social animal, is starting to read, and enjoys figuring out math problems - let's just say the kid's ready. We visited the class late last week, met his teacher (he got the one I wanted for him - yay!) and he definitely looked to be the best color-er of all the kids in his class already. I know, I'm biased.

So, the new Hulk backpack and lunchbox are ready to go. Bennett actually went to sleep by 8pm tonight. His school clothes are sitting on the dresser just waiting for the morning.

Everyone seems ready for this except me. I told Matt a few days ago that I wasn't going to handle this well and that I just couldn't talk about it. He's looked at me a few times since with that sweet "are you all right?" look in his eyes and I just wave him off and grunt in the universal "leave me alone, can't you see that I'm about to weep?" signal.

Intellectually, I'm there. I'm convinced Bennett is brilliant. I don't know that he'll be an A student or an academic wonder. But I know that he is one of the most creative, adventurous, passionate, curious little boys I know - and how can someone like that not succeed in school and in life.

So really, I'm just dealing with all of the lame cliches about moms watching their babies go off to kindergarten. I'm SOOOOO excited about all of the time to myself (hellooooo 8:30 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. - yes!) where I can work and do errands and plan and sit quietly and focus on what I want to do when. But I also know that I'm going to miss my chatty little buddy Bennett eagerly trying to get my attention to show me the robot he made from legos ... or to ask me what 7 + 5 is ... or to yell out "I love you, Mom!" while he sits on the toilet.

And I know that tomorrow at 8:35 a.m. this anxiety-filled, tear-ridden mess will be on display full force. Oh well, I'm sure I'll be in good company all across Chandler.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

California is burning!

We're right in the middle of our vacation to California and, as much as I'm loving it, part of me is ready to disappear back into the deserts of Arizona. I'm fairly sure that my eyes haven't stopped burning since we got into this state. Among the 1,000+ fires currently burning in Cali is one about 30 minutes north of Woodleaf. When we left today, the smoke looked like fog in the forest. I'll post pictures later. They are surreal.

The boys and I are having a great time bouncing from place to place, eating a lot of fast food and doing a lot of swimming since the 100 degree temperatures missed us too must and so followed us from Chandler.

I'm taking lots of great pictures - mostly of the boys - and will share those soon, too. That's the big update ... we'll be back soon!

Monday, June 9, 2008

Yes

I've decided that one of my very favorite words is "yes." I love it in the poem from yesterday's post ... "everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes" and I love that the poem below is called "Yes." There's something about "yes" that brings to mind all of the possibilites, the beauty of what can still be, a connection with another human being. It's a word that can change your life. Or it can simply be the difference between receiving packets of ketchup in your McDonald's bag ... or not. Here's hoping that you have many moments of "yes" in your life today.


Yes

It could happen any time, tornado,
earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen.
Or sunshine, love, salvation.

It could, you know. That's why we wake
and look out -- no guarantees
in this life.

But some bonuses, like morning,
like right now, like noon,
like evening.

~ William Stafford

Finding your joy

I know that I've been pretty open here about the fact that our lives have been overwhelmed by difficulties and challenges and dark places in recent months ... even years. In the midst of it, I have worked hard to face it all head on and allow God to do whatever molding and teaching and remolding and reteaching he has in mind for my character and my heart and my intellect. Part of what that's meant is embracing my negative emotions in a way that I've never been able to before instead of trying to ignore them or push them away or intellectualize them. In order to make it through the dark, I've needed to let myself just be there and slowly find my way, instead of running desperately in any and every direction looking for a hint of light.

I feel like I've been in the dark for so long that I've given up looking for the light at all. But recently, I've been telling God that I'm tired - and I'm ready to find some joy and light again. And it seems like ever since I started talking to him about that, he's allowed me to find my joy in people and things that are part of my everyday ...

- My amazing husband who I still cherish and desire and love to laugh with and simply be with after 15 years.
- My parents who are faithful and gracious, giving their love and understanding and support in abundance.
- My friends and family who pray for us and love me with e-mails and phone calls even when I just can't respond.
- My books that provide an escape.
- My cozy bed that is a refuge and a comfort.
- Coffee with cream.
- Fizzy water on ice.
- A ridiculously robust music library that allows me to create a playlist appropriate for any setting or mood (that's Matt again!).

Lastly, I wanted to share one of my favorite poems, written by e.e. cummings and read by my brother Matt at my wedding. This poem is, at its core, a celebration of joy itself and the joy of simply being alive:

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Special needs kindergartener "voted" out of class

Very few things cause me to get truly angry. Annoyed, irritated, bugged - oh yes. But true anger is not something that is in my everyday emotional spectrum.

However...

If you want to see me angry sometime, just do something to hurt or humiliate one of my children. Then you will come eye-to-eye with a mother bear the likes of which you haven't seen before.

I came across a story online just a few minutes ago that doesn't involve either of my boys, but ... close enough. It could have been. It could be someday. There but by the grace of God go I. And I'm pissed. (Having been raised by my mother that use of the word "pissed" is possibly even more vulgar than the "f" word, you know where I'm coming from.)

Have you seen this yet?

I can't tell you the rage I felt when I first heard about this. Regardless of the child's behavior in the class, diagnosis or lack of diagnosis, this never should have happened. What child wouldn't be emotionally scarred by having to stand in front of the class, hear all of the things his classmates didn't like about him, and experience the process of being voted out of the class? That's not bad judgement on the part of the teacher, it's just cruel.

When I learned that Alex likely has Asperger's, the rage continued to build. Didn't she know that the child's behavior problems were likely coming from a physiological source? Hadn't she met with the mom and talked about options for helping him control and redirect his behavior? Having lived the pain and difficulty of mainstreaming Evan over the past few years, I know that it's not simple. But his teachers have embraced him and his difficulties with grace, while working to ensure dignity for Evan and a quality environment for the other kids.

My exploding point came from reading innumerable posts on blogs and comments on news websites in support of the teacher. These posters consistently referred to special needs kids as retarded, abnormal, not appropriate in a class of "normal" students and, my personal favorite, IT. Not him or her. IT. Here's a lovely sample:

"If they have special needs and are retarded they aren''t learning anyway, get rid of them."

I know that is ignorance and stupidity and selfishness and hate. But it hurts anyway. It hurts for my beautiful, intelligent, emotional, loving son who faces social and emotional and cognitive barriers every day that we can't even imagine.

I just pray that little Alex and his family will find encouragement and grace and peace in the midst of this horrible situation. I know people are writing to the school principal and the district and the state and the principal's mom (!!) about this and I'm all in favor of that.

But I'm even more in favor of writing to Alex and his mom with a card or letter or e-mail of encouragement. They need to be overwhelmed by the fact that there are truly good, loving people in the world after they have faced such hate. If you get a chance, send Alex a quick note.

Alex is Special
c/o Barbara Curtis
15648 Britenbush Ct.
Waterford, VA 20197
supportalex@treasurecoast.com

While we've been away - the mini version

Just when you think life can't get more complicated, one day you wake up and get a phone call telling you that one of your best friends needs an emergency liver transplant. That day, your husband gets on the plane and heads up to San Jose. After hours and days of prayer and worry and prayer a donor liver is found and the surgery goes well. Then you get on a plane and briefly cross paths with your husband and spend a week trying to be a support. You get home and dive into life while trying to support your friends long distance. Then you realize that your special needs kid needs a new medication because the one he's on, while effective, has packed on the pounds almost overnight and could be potentially dangerous. So, you start over with a new medication but that one doesn't seem to be effective and the options are slim after this. Okay, I'm done because this is the mini version.

Glad to be back!
Natalie

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Bonus post: It's Bennett's garden ... I just work here

It's April in Arizona and I've actually been paying attention to the garden this year! We've been excited to have the chance to enjoy the beauty that five years of work and planning has produced. Not that the work is done - I still have lots of ideas to add to its beauty (it's called shoving plants into the ground until there's no sign of soil left - ha!). My dad said yesterday that we "need to find 80 acres somewhere" so that I can fit in all the plants that I keep trying to fit into our yard. Until 80 acres is a possibility, we'll make the most of our tiny garden.

Bennett has labeled one large corner of that tiny garden "Bennett's Garden." He likes to pick out flowers for that area and has claimed it officially by putting a stick in the ground and resting an upside down watering can on top of the stick. I love that sense of pride and ownership. Sadly, "ownership" doesn't necessarily translate to "interest in doing the work" so that's where I take over. It's okay, though, since I'm really the one who started this whole thing.

Here are some pictures I took yesterday - click on any photo to see a larger version. Oh, and I had to sneak in my favorite new picture of our sweet Bella girl - make sure to look for her!









Autistic need support, not pity

I got this article from an AS mailing list that I'm on and I think it's wonderful. The author does a great job of expressing one point that I've always believed - a continued focus on a "cure" isn't as important as helping autistic kids and their families know how to navigate and thrive in a neurotypical world. Plus, she quotes T.S. Eliot, so she's got to be fabulous!

Anyway, it's so important to really listen to those who are actually living out autism everyday as adults. I'm all for autism acceptance! -Natalie


Autistic need support, not pity
By LIZZY MILLER
lizzy.miller@ centre.edu

T.S. Eliot was right: April is the cruelest month.

So maybe the lilacs haven't bloomed yet, and maybe any dead land in the area has turned into mud by now, but the principle is the same: April is one of the most unintentionally cruel months of the 12.

It's Autism Awareness Month.

I, for one, am acutely aware of autism, and I don't need a special month to think about it, because I am autistic.

I am one of the autistic adults that the president of Autism Speaks - an "organization" that despite its name doesn't employ autistic people or allow their input - swears up and down don't exist.

I am one of the autistic adults who spent much of her youth being bullied for her differences. I am fortunate that the only abuse I suffered was at the hands of my peers. Many autistic people today are still hospitalized against their will simply for being autistic. They often are forcibly restrained and suffer electric shocks in hopes of being "cured."

I am one of the autistic adults who is fortunate enough to have been born into a loving, supportive family that did everything in their power to teach me the coping skills I needed to function in a neurotypical world. Many parents of autistic children teach them that what they are is inherently bad early on. Some of them end up killing their own children and get applauded for their "acts of mercy." These
parents tend to face drastically lighter prison sentences than parents who harm their neurotypical children, if they're convicted at all.

I am one of the autistic adults who is proud to be fighting for the autism acceptance movement.

"Autism awareness" is not a laudable goal. Awareness is cheap. Anybody can put a puzzle piece magnet on his car and call himself "aware." Being aware and accepting of autistic people as people instead of puzzles takes more effort.

Many 'flavors' of autism

It's impossible for me to speak for all autistic people on most issues. Autism is a spectrum disorder, meaning there are as many flavors of autism as there are autistic people. There are, however, a few things that I feel safe to say on behalf of the one in 166 people who have been diagnosed with an autism spectrum disorder.

Do not pity us; it accomplishes nothing but harm. Help us by listening to us. Even those of us who don't or can't speak have plenty to say; we simply need to be given the opportunity. Don't pretend to know what's going on in our heads if you've never even bothered to ask.

We are not puzzles; we are people. We are not broken; don't fix us. There aren't neurotypical people trapped inside us, waiting to be unlocked. We're just like you already, except we experience the world differently.

Oh, and watching "The Rain Man" doesn't count as research.

That said, I fully support therapies that genuinely help autistic people function in our neurotypical society. It's just that attempts to "cure" us by making us just like everybody else are misguided at best. The only thing autism "cures" accomplish is teaching autistic people to act neurotypical while believing that they are broken.

As Eugene Marcus, an autistic writer, says, "the person who believes 'I will be real when I am normal' will always be almost a person, but will never make it all the way."

I am real, and I am normal. I'm just not neurotypical.

Now can we please move on to fighting real epidemics?

Lizzy Miller is a spring semester intern at The Advocate.
Copyright:The Advocate-Messenger 2008

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

The "talk"

I had the "talk" with Evan today. No, I didn't tell him about the birds and bees, although that conversation is coming soon, I'm sure. Matt's in charge of that one.

Today I told Evan that he has Asperger's Syndrome.

It's funny, because over the years its not one of those things Matt and I thought a lot about. We felt that the discussion shouldn't be forced and that we'd know when the time was right. In the meantime, time went by and all of a sudden he was 9 years old and we'd never told him.

Now mind you, Evan is completely aware of the fact that he is different. He knows that he has difficulties focusing on things other than super heroes and selected animals. He knows that he has trouble dealing with his anger and anxiety. He knows that schoolwork takes longer for him to complete than most of his classmates. Come on, he's the one living it.

He knows about the extra support at school, the medications, the fact that he goes to Dr. Kessler regularly and Bennett doesn't. All of those things together just never had one name ... one source. Until today.

The moment came spontaneously and I knew instantly that it was the right time. We were talking about something related to his anxieties and Evan was in a sweet, receptive mood. So I dove in. I talked with him about the ways he is different from other kids, both the blessings and the challenges. I told him that when he was born, his brain was made a little bit different than most people and that this wasn't necessarily a bad thing, just different. I explained that all of these things together are called Asperger's Syndrome.

At first he thought I was saying a bad word. Classic Evan. After that, he reacted exactly the way I expected that he would, which is "oh, okay." He wasn't surprised or sad about it, the name just provided a little more information and framework to what he already knew to be true about himself. Again, no judgements, just facts. I asked if he had any questions and he didn't, so I told him that Daddy would probably want to talk with him about it a little bit sometime and that I wanted all of us, including Bennett, to sit down and read a couple of books about Asperger's together later this week. Sounded great to him and off he went.

My favorite part was when Evan looked me right in the eye and said, "I like being different." Man, I am so in love with that kid. Thank you, God, for your perfect timing.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Boys rule

I am so glad that I have boys. Don't get me wrong, I know having a daughter is great, and I have my fleeting moments of sadness that I'll never get to shop regularly for hair bows and baby dolls and dresses with flowers. But given our circumstances - we only have two and they're nearly 5 years apart - I'm glad they're boys.

I think it's easier for boys to overcome that kind of age gap with similar interests. We've seen this coming on for a while, but Evan and Bennett have bloomed into full blown play buddies. They both love action figures of any kind, they both love animals, and right now, they're both REALLY into Star Wars. So, for example, after school today they spent an hour an a half doing a "Star Wars battle" together until the need to leave for Bennett's karate class broke things up. I didn't interfere, I didn't have to break up any fights. It was all quite peaceful considering that a desperate battle for the galaxy was going on.

Bennett does have to deal with the challenge of an aspie big brother who largely wants to do the exact same battles over and over again (complete with dialogue, etc) and wants to control nearly every aspect of playing together (who gets to be which character, how long it lasts, where everyone is positioned). Very typical of a kid with AS. Not easy to deal with every day when you're a goofball, creative kid who just wants to have fun.

But I'm really proud of both of them. Bennett has learned to challenge and negotiate with Evan and stands up for himself pretty well. Evan is learning that doing things in a different way and letting Bennett make some decisions in the story is actually kind of fun. It's a great social learning experience that I hope both of them can take into their experiences in the world at large.

I've gotten myself shunned from these Star Wars battles - due largely to my constant efforts to have the characters avoid war through rational discussion or kissing - so if a grown up gets roped into their play it's almost always Matt. Then I go up to my calm bedroom, close the door and read until the violence is over. Yep, boys rule.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Bonus post: On the nightstand

I realized that I haven't blogged about what's on my nightstand lately and I know you've been clamoring loudly for that information. Cricket ... cricket. Well, regardless, here's what I've currently got goin' on:

A Walk with Jane Austen: A Journey into Adventure, Love & Faith by Lori Smith: Started reading this one yesterday and I already love it. Are you shocked? She's managed to jam four of my favorite things in the title alone! Austen. Adventure. Love. Faith. I could devour this one in a matter of hours, but I'm trying to read it thoroughly this first time and savor the experience. Essentially, it's a memoir about the author's experience visiting significant locations in Austen's life and works during a time of change and difficulty in her life. Sidenote: I was reading this book earlier today. Bennett took one look at it and asked me, "Mom, is that one of those Pride and Prejudice books?" Two things: he's incredibly perceptive and I am truly sick.

Conversations: The Message with its Translator by Eugene Peterson and GOD: Now let me show you how really spiritual I am - haha. Actually, I'm completely Christian-geeking out on this bible right now. It's the complete text of The Message translation with commentary and insight from Peterson included right in the narrative. So his comments aren't footnotes at the bottom of the page, but paragraph chunks related to what you're reading included as you read. I really like this format - it doesn't force you to go back and forth between text and provides for a much smoother reading experience. Plus, I love Peterson's take on scripture and his voice as a writer - see A Long Obedience in the Same Direction: Discipleship in an Instant Society and Leap Over a Wall: Earthy Spirituality for Everyday Christians for other examples.

P.S. I Love You by Cecelia Ahern: I'm not sure about this one. I've been working on it for months after randomly picking it up at an airport and just haven't been able to get into it. The concept is interesting and I'm no classic literature purist, but I just haven't connected with the emotion in this book. And I'm not sure yet that it's even well-written. But it took me a while to really get hooked on Les Mis and Crime and Punishment, too, so what do I know? Anyway, I've convinced myself to carry on and at least finish the freakin' thing.

Looking below the surface

Sorry we've been absent, I spent my birthday weekend sick (boo!) and I'm just starting to feel better. Just a bad cold (cross my fingers) that I'm hoping will go away eventually.

Anyway ... life goes on even when we are sick, doesn't it? Last evening was a rough one for Evan. I should have immediately figured out that his anger was attributable to something below the emotional surface as it so often is with an AS kid, but I wasn't feeling well and didn't connect it on my own.

After an hour or two of angry and just plain rude behavior, Evan ended up coming to me and crying, saying he was sorry, and telling me that his class had a hard day at school. Not him specifically, just the whole class. And that he feels "dumb" because he hasn't passed his "9s" test in multiplication. And that (here's where the real issue surfaces) he's sad because it's almost summer break - and he realized yesterday that it starts in May and it's almost May.

I'd like to point out the great irony in this admission. Here's a kid who we often have to focus 30 to 60 minutes on in the morning just to get him to go to school. And he's bawling his eyes out, nearly inconsolable, because he's going to miss his teacher and his class so much over the summer. *Sigh*

It's always emotional when your child cries like that, but I know he'll be okay. We've done this school thing enough years that we know the transition from year to year is always emotional and challenging, but that it will eventually pass and he'll have another teacher to visit and say hi to in the hallway.

In the meantime, it was a good lesson (again!) in the need to dig below the surface to what's really going on and not just take Evan's negative behavior at face value.

Friday, April 11, 2008

1 NT + 1 Aspie = 5

I'm finding it hard to write about Asperger's every day and find an appropriate balance of tone. I want to be real about the added stresses and emotional/physical fatigue that comes with parenting an "aspie" kid. I don't want to be melodramatic and make out like every moment in our home is tortuous.

It's kind of like this - one day I described my relatively normal, happy childhood in a household of five children to my therapist. Her response was that a big family was nice to be part of. I agreed. She asked me why we'd chosen to have only two kids, then. I told her that it feels like I already have five kids and I know that I couldn't handle more.

Anyway, life with an aspie kid is just like life with a "neurotypical" kid, just different. Having both an aspie and an NT kid, I see the differences and the similarities. The hardest part for me is not having a good view into the way Evan's mind works. I truly believe that he views the world very differently than I do and I'd give almost everything to understand that. My hope is that as he gets older, he'll be able to explain it to me so that I can help and encourage him more effectively.

Another example. There's an older kid at school that somehow Evan has come to see as a bully. Here's the interchange that we had today after school:

Evan: A few days ago that bully kid told me to stop staring at him.
Me: Do you stare at him?
Evan (always honest): Yes.
Me: Do you stare at him a lot?
Evan (again, always honest): Yes.
Me: Why?
Evan: I just do.
Me: Would you like it if someone was always staring at you?
Evan: No.
Me: Maybe you should stop staring at that kid.
Evan: Yes, okay.

My point in this is that I'm not sure exactly how to handle this, because I can't truly see where Evan is coming from and he can't accurately describe it to me. Is the kid really a bully or is he just creeped out because Evan keeps staring at him? Or is he mean and Evan just stares at him out of fear or anger? I can't get a clear answer.

The good thing is that I know somewhere in his heart, Evan knows what's right. But his mind doesn't always connect with his heart when he's locked into something ... like the fact that he's decided that kid is a bully.

Sigh. Okay, I'm done rambling for now. Happy Friday!!

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Mainstreaming autistic kids at school

This is actually a fairly accurate story on some of the challenges, options, questions and issues surrounding raising an autistic kid.

MSNBC: Mainstreaming Kids With Autism

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Guilt

Did I handle his emotional outburst about the AIMS test before school correctly?

Should I work harder to force him to eat vegetables?

Have I allowed him to watch "Return of the Jedi" too many times?

Should I have pushed to keep an aide in his class at the IEP?

Have I done something to cause his lack of self-confidence with schoolwork?

Did I tell him I loved him before he went in to the school?

Should I have encouraged Bennett to play Iron Man with Evan yesterday instead of letting him make the choice, knowing that Evan would get angry if he said no?

Is it right to have a 9-year old on daily medications even though they seem to help?

Why do I feel so tired - that's not how I want my kids to remember me, is it?

How can I get him to eat something new in his lunchbox instead of throwing it away every time I try?

Is bribery the wrong way to motivate him when I'm at my wits end?

How can I encourage him to grow closer to Jesus and find comfort there?

Will Evan be able to have a wife and family of his own?

Did I spend enough focused time on both boys today?

Am I encouraging his positive friendships enough?

Should we have him in clinical Occupational Therapy?

How do I help him to develop a sense of gratitude?

Will guitar lessons help his confidence or just frustrate him?

Am I making sure that Bennett always feels safe and protected?

Is it wrong that sometimes I want to run away from all of it?

Etc, etc, etc...

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Another year, another IEP

It seems kind of like kismet that our IEP fell within National Autism Month. The beloved, the necessary, the dreaded IEP. For those of you who don't have special needs children or are not special educators, IEP stands for Individual Education Plan, a federally mandated process and document for all special ed kids. Don't fall asleep yet!

The IEP is a wonderful thing, yet it is surrounded by controversy, tension, stress, debate, sometimes legal action. Even with Evan at a wonderful school, I always have a bit of a stomach ache before and during the annual IEP meeting. Sometimes afterwards, too.

Essentially, the IEP is intended to ensure that each child in the public school system with autism (for example) gets an "appropriate" education. What this comes down to is debate and discussion on what accomodations are necessary to help the child succeed in (or out) of the classroom. Should the autistic child be in a "self-contained" classroom with other special ed students or should he be "mainstreamed" into a typical classroom setting with accomodations like an aide ("paraprofessional"), pull-out Speech Therapy and Occupational Therapy services, special circumstances surrounding testing (especially standardized tests), etc.

Needless to say, parents, teachers and administrators do not always see eye-to-eye on what's best for the student - and there are other factors involved, like the fact that having an aide in the class costs the school extra money. Ah-hah!

Happily, Evan is an IEP success story, although it's not a story without heartache and drama along the way. Evan started out in a self-contained classroom during his first run at kindergarten. After a rough start, he had a good year and then transferred back to our neighborhood school for another round of kindergarten in a "mainstreamed" situation. Overall, it went well. However, the transition to all-day first grade was a nightmare up until about February. I will always adore his teacher Ms. Raven for loving him through it all and telling us that she had "learned so much as a person from Evan." Each year has had its different challenges based on where Evan has been emotionally and maturity-wise at that time.

Today's meeting was fairly smooth and I'm just so proud of the progress Evan has made. We've all agreed that he no longer requires an aide in the class, doesn't need OT services (at least in a school setting), but will continue with Speech Therapy and a Social Skills group with the Special Ed teacher. We are working toward figuring out ways to reduce his test anxiety and to increase his self-confidence with schoolwork that he's capable of doing, but says is "too hard."

Every significant change in the plan has to be documented, so sometimes these meeting happen several times each year. I am familiar with many families who have been so unhappy with their school's plan and performance that they have hired attorneys or IEP specialists to accompany them to the meeting - or have sued the school to get what they think is necessary.

All I can say is that God has been good to us in this area. We have a school that has been flexible with all of us and wonderful to Evan - plus, they really and truly care about his success personally and academically. What more could you ask for any child? The best thing in the world is to hear how much Evan is cherished at the school, that most of the staff in this school of 1,000+ kids know who he is, and that they think he's a sweet, polite kid. It doesn't get much better than that. I guess my stomach ache can ease up a bit for now. :-)

Natalie

Monday, April 7, 2008

Post-Sunday blog: The perfect autism quote

If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music he hears, however measured or far away.

- Henry David Thoreau

Friday, April 4, 2008

Saturday's pre-blog: Escape from autism

We will be unable to get to a computer tomorrow, so here's our Saturday post - a day early.

Matt and I are currently in California - headed for the Northern California beach town of Half Moon Bay with our great friends Kevin and Amy. All of this is to celebrate Matt's 40th (coming in a month!) and have the opportunity to escape.

All parents have a need to escape from the kids every once in a while to refresh, reprioritize and just have some time to think. :-) But I think it's especially true for those parents of kids with special needs. It's so easy to get caught up in the day-to-day, the stresses, the frustrating tantrums about whatever is keeping Evan from doing what he wants to be doing. We work really hard to make sure that Evan's emotional and social issues don't completely overwhelm our family - that our family isn't all about Evan, but is balanced and everyone's needs are being met, especially Bennett's.

So it feels good to be a little bit selfish, knowing that the boys are well taken care of by Papa and Grandma Rust (thank you, thank you, thank you). Here's to time by the sea, a romantic inn, special friends, good wine, and time to be quiet.

Love,
Natalie

What Evan has that many autistic kids don't

There is probably nothing more important to a family facing life with an autistic child than a supportive extended family. When grandparents, especially, try to pretend that nothing's wrong, or blame your lack of parenting skills, or try to tell you exactly what to do ... well, let's just say it's not helpful.

We have been blessed with incredibly supportive families on both the Morris and Rust sides. People who love Evan unconditionally, forgive his rudeness, melt at his sincere apologies, listen to detailed descriptions of Spider-man battles (or nicely excuse themselves), have already forgotten that we left most holiday events for years because of Evan's angry and overstimulated rages, and celebrate every achievement and step forward.

These are aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents who have spent hours and days with our family and have had a glimpse of how unpredictable and emotional our beloved son can be. They've seen us stress out, handle situations with compassion, break down in tears, freak out. They've taught the cousins to be kind and gracious and flexible with Evan even when that is not easy. They've kept their mouths shut when they would have handled things differently and they've offered words of loving encouragement when they knew we needed it.

Thank you to each and every one of you. You have carried us through these last five years ... and more importantly you are helping to create a smart little boy who knows he's loved, understands why silliness is essential to life, and just happens to have Asperger's Syndrome.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Cows 'R' Us

Evan loves cows. I can't explain it. It started before he turned two - possibly inspired by "Old MacDonald" - a song which I thought at one point would drive me mad if I heard or sang it one more time.

Cows have survived other revolving obsessions like the Backstreet Boys, the Bruce Sprinsteen Live DVD, Power Rangers SPD, Spider-man, Leopards, Star Wars. They are "special interest" numero uno - and Evan still claims that he wants to be a farmer when he grows up.

Our area of South Chandler rests on the edge of suburban and rural. We still have horses and sheep and cows on various acreages near our house. In fact, there's a dairy farm directly on our way to the freeway.

It never fails that my 9 year old son has to point out each and every cow that he sees - and then he'll throw in the horses for good measure.

"Mom, did you see that cow?"

Yes, I did. And I saw it this morning when we drove past it, and yesterday on the way to the mall, and last week on the way to your guitar lesson, and I'm sure it will be there tomorrow. Just like Evan's love of cows.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

The "spectrum" of autism

One of the things that is most confusing to the general public and most frustrating to me about autism is that it's a "spectrum disorder." So on one end of the spectrum you have those individuals who cannot speak or communicate, have low IQs, and rock or otherwise "stim" incessently. These are kids that you could most likely pick out of a crowd as not "normal." On the other end you have those like Evan who look like every other kid (well, even more dashingly handsome in his case!), speak very well - often with a large vocabulary, and have normal to high intelligence. Then you have every combination inbetween.

There is no "typical" autistic person. There is no "typical" experience of parenting a child with an ASD. There is no "typical" course for how to best help your autistic child or grandchild or nephew or friend navigate the world. Obviously there are similar issues, but all to varying degrees. Most people have no idea what autism really is, particularly not Asperger's Syndrome, and if they do, they're basing it on something they heard about a friend's colleague's son one time. Or maybe they saw celebrities discussing it on Larry King last year or read an article in a magazine.

This lack of understanding isn't really anyone's fault - it's simply the reality of a complicated disorder that defies any effort to put it in a box.

Here's a little piece of life with Asperger's. Yesterday, as you know, was April Fool's Day. After Evan left for school Bennett and I discussed the idea for a couple of minutes and I immediately saw a new twinkle in his eye. And so, for the rest of the day, Bennett played April Fool's tricks on me constantly, tried a few with Matt and Evan, and even pulled one over on my dad.

After dinner, the four of us were talking about April Fool's Day and Evan said that kids kept doing tricks to him all day and eventually he got tired of it. Matt asked him ... "Well, did you keep falling for the tricks?" and he said yes. Obviously this wasn't a big deal, but it reminded us that although Evan is very smart, he can be incredibly naive and has trouble seeing into the intentions of others, even when something keeps happening over and over.

More later...

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

"Happy" National Autism Awareness Month?

Yes, April is National Autism Awareness Month. Ensuring that folks across the country are educated about autism spectrum disorders (ASD) is a great thing. Of course in our family, autism awareness happens every month ... every day ... almost every hour.

Evan having Asperger's Syndrome (AS) is a bittersweet part of our family life. Parenting a child with AS or any ASD is hard work, to put it mildly. But if Evan didn't have Asperger's he wouldn't really be our Evan, would he?

In honor of this special month, we're planning to blog on the subject of autism every day. Thank you for indulging us. In return, we hope to give you a closer view into Evan's world and what it's like to live in the world of autism and Asperger's Syndrome.

Here are a couple of links to get you started:
- From CNN - Asperger's: My life as an earthbound alien
- Asperger's Syndrom OASIS

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

What's on Bennett's mind today?

Bennett: Mom, why can't I see my face unless I look in a mirror?

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Something to share on Easter...



Sorrows

The most famous man in history held me today while I cried.

He didn’t question my faith and point out that I was weak.
He didn’t tell me to use my head and make sense of it all.
He didn’t push me to stand up, dust myself off and get on with things.

Instead, he simply reminded me that he had cried alone, too –
that he had been a man of sorrows.

He whispered in my ear that he had, in fact, chosen to die
an agonizing death just for me, for this very moment.

Natalie Morris
January 24, 2008

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

A couple of reasons I love the Bible today

#1
In his kindness God called you to his eternal glory by means of Jesus Christ. After you have suffered a little while, he will restore, support, and strengthen you, and he will place you on a firm foundation.
(1 Peter 5:10, NLT)

#2
Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, so we may sing for joy to the end of our lives. Give us gladness in proportion to our former misery! Replace the evil years with good. Let us see your miracles again; let our children see your glory at work. And may the Lord our God show us his approval and make our efforts successful. Yes, make our efforts successful! (Psalm 90:14-17, NLT)

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Welcome to Holland

This is a classic, meaningful essay that I read again today and thought I'd share with you. It was written by the mother of a "disabled" child to explain the paradigm shift that happens when you discover your kid isn't "normal." Life will not be what we expected. Even with the aching that comes with it, we love Holland. :-)


Welcome to Holland

by Emily Perl Kingsley

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.

But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.

c1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Prayers of the suffering

Yeah, it's been a while since we wrote last time, but come on - it was December!

We've been in the midst of a great deal of sorrow and tragedy lately for some reason. Matt said the other day "I feel like God is trying to get our attention." The journey feels heavy and sad right now. We just keep walking and trust that Jesus knows what we can handle - although it's hard not to think he might be wrong on this one.

I got an e-mail from my always insightful brother Matt the other day that included two prayers written by 19th century Christian philosopher and writer Soren Kierkegaard. They have been an encouragement to me, so I wanted to share them with you:

WE BELONG TO YOU
O God, when at times our strength is taken from us, when sorrow overcomes us like a kind of fog in which our vision is plunged as into a dark night; when our hearts do tremble with our loss: then teach us and strengthen the conviction in our hearts that in death, no less than in life, we belong to You.

YOU ARE NEAR
We are grateful that You are present everywhere, O God. You are near should anyone call upon You from a bed of sickness, or cry out in great need upon the sea. All are drawn to seek You, the Friend of the thankful, the Consolation of the weak, the Refuge of the anxious, the Confidante of the suffering as You count their tears, the Comfort of the dying. We are grateful that You give Your gifts to everyone who needs them.

I swear that one of these days we'll get back to posting about our goofiness around here. Stick with us!

Love, Natalie