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Lessons from a Scarecrow

May 5, 2013 By 3 Comments

Meet one of my scarecrows. His name is Eddie.*

Eddie the Scarecrow

Eddie the Scarecrow

Eddie is a motion-sensitive sprinkler. When something moves in the garden, like birds or critters, Eddie spouts off. He varies the patterns and duration of his spray each time, to keep his air of mystery—and to keep the birds and critters guessing.

Eddie has a sensitivity knob. His motion detecting can go from a 1 (least sensitive) to a 10 (the wind blows, and he spurts). A sensitivity setting of about a 7½ is sufficient for our tiny garden. So far, Eddie’s doing a great job. I haven’t seen any squirrel-dug holes in the raised beds recently.

Eddie’s sensitivity doesn’t encompass the entire back yard, tiny as it is, so he has a partner. Franco* keeps an eye out from the opposite corner of the yard. Franco is a motion-sensitive sprinkler just like Eddie, with a sensitivity knob and the same job to do: protect the garden from unwelcome intruders.

You’d think both Eddie and Franco’s sensitivity knobs should be set at the same number, right? (Here’s where the scarecrows have been schooling me.) Eddie guards the part of the yard closest to the house, away from the trees behind our fence. Franco guards the part of the yard near the back fence, where the trees’ leaves and branches frequently fall. There’s also a wind chime that hangs almost directly over Franco’s head. Franco’s corner of the yard experiences more movement than Eddie’s does, so Franco’s sensitivity knob needs to be set to a slightly different level than Eddie’s sensitivity knob. By trial and error, we’ve found the best setting for both scarecrow sprinklers, and the garden is well guarded.

The scarecrows Eddie and Franco remind me of my husband and me as we parent our daughter. Michael’s sensitivity knob sits at a different setting than mine does. There are times when I jump to alarm at every little nonverbal cue I think Cami might be giving and I end up hovering (yes, I am a recovering helicopter mom). Just the same, there are times when Michael misses the subtext in Cami’s body language and her feelings end up hurt or misunderstood. Each of us have different approaches and bring different filters to our family life together. We don’t always get it right. Through trial and error, though, we’re getting it right many more times than we’re messing it up. Cami needs both of us, even when our sensitivity knobs are at different settings. Together, we make a good team.

Looking forward to a bountiful harvest,

Candi

*Michael named the scarecrow sprinklers. Just sayin’.

Contact: cassandra@chosenfamilies.org

Filed Under: Parenting, Sensory Processing Disorder Tagged With: ,

What He Does

June 21, 2012 By

Noah’s going to the 2012 London Olympics.  Not as a spectator.  Oh, no.  He tells us that he’s going as a competitor in swimming.  Which should be interesting, considering he’s only recently mastered swimming in the deep end of the pool.  And why shouldn’t he be competing?  We’ve told him that there’s nothing he can’t achieve if he sets his mind to it.  But setting his mind and simultaneously applying his body does not seem to be a concept he’s mastered.  Noah is extremely perseverant. But this dedication manifests only when Noah is already into something – when he’s so far invested that to turn back would invite ridicule, or equate to failure.

Trying to ply my children with engaging activities while buying myself a few hours of solace, I’ve laid out careful camp plans this summer.  This week was art camp.  Run by a talented local artist with a lovely studio, there were children ages 5 to 8 in the class.  He got to go with his sister.  It was only a few hours, and the class was small.  It seemed perfect.   Seemed.

After the first day, Noah announced that he hated art camp because it was too difficult, and it required work. It was something he hadn’t mastered, and couldn’t pretend that he had.  He didn’t want to go back and try again when the shading or shape wasn’t quite right.  He was ready to quit after one day.  Well, we’re not quitters.

Plus, I’ve already paid for the whole week.

What Noah does is jump to the most extreme conclusion, the highest pinnacle of achievement related to the belief that he can – as we’ve told him – achieve anything he sets his mind to.  This means winning Olympic gold, writing a New York Times bestseller, or painting the next “Starry Night.”  Instantly. He will tell you he can do it all. And if he tries it without instant success, he automatically “hates it.”  Noah expects to be prodigious at everything he attempts, not understanding that even Mozart spent a few hours in practice on the harpsichord.

He hasn’t figured out that setting your mind to something also means setting your body in motion to achieve it.

I think Noah has the hard part down.  I’m excellent at brute achievement , the doing of things, the slaving away.  But the belief that I might be able to achieve something?  I’m often surprised when I meet a goal.  For me, the mental part is the biggest challenge.  I am sometimes hindered from achieving what I want because I get hung up in the “am I good enough?” minutiae and it frequently slows my stride.

We told Noah that art was a challenge, but a beautiful exercise in dedication.  We told him it would take practice, and that it would get better with every minute spent in his sketchbook.  We were right.  Not prone to emotions of extremes or anything (ahem), he told me today he LOVED art camp. Why?  Because the drawing of an egg that he’d been working to shade for 3 days finally, with hard work, came out just the way he’d already planned.

- Sarah

Filed Under: Asperger, balance, Challenge, Emotions, Expectations, summer, Uncategorized Tagged With: , ,

Finding the balance

April 26, 2012 By Leave a Comment

Today has been a day to ponder finding the balance.  I attended several workshops today and they all seem to be playing on the same playground in my mind.  Perhaps this is more about the needs in my own heart than anything else.

I heard Craig and Mary Futella discuss their new book, Hectic to Healthy, The Journey to a Balanced Life.  While I haven’t read it, I bought it today to add to my reading list.  I think this will be right up there at the top because it is the story of my life.

Frankly, to some extent, it is the story of the life of every parent of a child or wife/husband of a spouse with special needs.  We have discussed this before.  The many demands on our lives from the typical issues all families address to the many extra requirements in our worlds — various therapies, specialist appointments, IEP meetings and concerns, etc.

Craig talked about the importance of factoring the season of your life into your schedule.  A single person has less family demands and can do more things.  A married couple without kids have responsibilities to each other but not to children yet.  A typical parent has responsibilities to their spouse and their kids.  But a special needs parent?  They have that also but the demands are often magnified by the special needs.  When we don’t figure this reality into our lives, they become hectic and harried.  This is not good.  It can feel like we are spinning out of control at times.

He shared two passages that were so important.  I Corinthians 7:32-34 addresses the earthly responsibilities in our lives when we have spouses and children, even more when we have family members with hidden disabilities.

The second passage that gave me pause was Genesis 33:12-14.  This is the passage where Jacob has returned to Esau in their homeland.  They have embraced and he has been accepted.  Esau says, basically, “come on, let’s go.”  Jacob pauses, considers his family, and replies that he will “move along slowly at the pace of the children.”

This is our life as families with hidden disabilities.  We must move along at the pace of our families.  We must consider their needs and factor that into our schedules or we will live hectic, chaotic lives.

Don’t get me wrong — I don’t have this one licked.  I am just so convicted that it is one I need to continue to pray about, consider practically, and surrender fully.

Prayerfully,

Shannon

Filed Under: balance Tagged With: ,