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On Laughter

May 2, 2012 By Leave a Comment

As a family, we watch a lot of movies.  They are almost all comedies (except for the Star Wars Trilogy, on which I have developed a strange adult fixation).  For us, movies are a way to relax and a way to connect.  We watch tv together, sharing food, laughter, pillows and blankets.

My husband loves to laugh.  He does not laugh quietly.  He is a “falling off the couch while laughing” kind of guy.  And he especially loves any kind of slapstick humor.  So when we find a movie that Ben likes, the entire family enjoys it more because of his genuine, childlike enthusiasm and laughter.

Because of Ben’s problems with short-term memory, he doesn’t always remember what movies we’ve watched.  So we watch movies repeatedly.  A lot.  Over and over.  Add to that the fact that he has no visual memory, he does not remember movies in the same way that we do.  He can remember funny moments.  But he can’t remember who said the lines or what movie the lines are from.  And if he hears a funny line, he will automatically laugh out loud and say, “What movie is that from?  We haven’t seen that movie in a long time.”  And the rest of our family will groan….

It’s gotten to the point where the kids and I no longer want to watch some of our favorite movies due to overexposure!

The other night, I created a game for our family to play.  I knew that my game would either make Ben very angry or he would be able to laugh and enjoy the game with us.  I didn’t mention anything to Ben ahead of time.  I took my cues from how he had been acting all afternoon and at dinner.   I took a chance and called the kids together to play a “family trivia game.”

We’ve played family trivia games before, always using Candy Corn as the prize for the winners who get the question right.  But instead of asking standard trivia questions (Bible verses, historical facts, movie actors), I called this game “Movie Memory Trivia.”  I would quote a line from one of our favorite movies.  Ben had to name the movie that the line came from.  If he couldn’t, the turn would pass to the kids and they would all yell the name of the movie and receive the candy corn.

Praise God, my husband enjoyed the game.

This game could have come across as mocking Ben’s disability.  I certainly did not want to do this.  Instead, we ended up laughing together as a family because of something that is unique to us…Ben’s poor memory for movies.  This silly game was a time for us to celebrate our unique family culture as we rehearsed dialogue from our favorite comedies and watched Dad convulse with laughter as each time as though it were the first time he heard these lines.

Hidden disabilities can be hard on a family.  I am thankful to God that we can still keep our sense of humor and find ways to be at peace with the life and some of the circumstances God has for our family.

The LORD is my chosen portion and my cup;
you hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.
(Psalm 16:5-6 ESV)

~Nancy

 

Filed Under: Acquired Brain Injury, Family, FUN, humor Tagged With: , ,

Preaching the Gospel by “Doing Nothing”

March 25, 2012 By Leave a Comment

Famed Welsh medical doctor and minister Martin Lloyd-Jones tells the story of his mother’s reaction to his first sermon. When Martin asked his mother for her impressions of his oratory, his mother looked lovingly at him and said, “My dear son, you missed several wonderful opportunities to sit down.”

Lloyd-Jones’ propensity for the excessive use of words reminds me of my interactions with Fletcher. Since my little man is non-verbal, I will tend to supply his words for him. “We” have wonderful conversations on most days. However, there are some mornings that he lets me know, albeit not as kindly as Mrs. Lloyd-Jones, that I have missed several opportunities to close my mouth.

On one recent school morning, Brenda was having a time getting Fletcher ready. He had not slept well the previous evening and he was whining, crying, and screaming as she tried to get him dressed. It was so loud that it shook the walls in our home and moved me to leave the sanctuary of my devotional time to investigate the cause of the uproar.

As I entered the room, Brenda gave me that look that said, “If you love me, and you don’t want me to kill you, you will do something with this little demon!” Then she did the most unsettling thing – she had the audacity to leave the room! I thought, “Uh oh, what am I going to do now?”

With my mind racing, I sat on the couch beside my little troublemaker. As I sat there, I tried to think about what I could do that would settle him down. To be honest, it was difficult to concentrate with him screaming, but I just sat there beside him, deep in thought about how to help.

Then the most extraordinary thing happened. Fletch moved closer to me and started gently rubbing my arm. This surprised me; I then thought, “Hey, if this will shut him up, I’ll keep doing nothing.” It was astounding. As I sat there “doing nothing,” he settled down, and a few minutes later his mother returned and easily prepared him for school.

Of course, she was astonished by my exceptional parenting skills. I even earned the nickname The Fletch Whisperer. (Of course, my pride forbade me to let her think any differently!) But the truth is, I comforted Fletcher by simply “doing nothing.”

As I reflected on this experience, God helped me see that sometimes the most important thing we can give our children is the gift of our presence. Saint Francis of Assisi once said that, “We should preach the gospel everyday, and when necessary, use words.” I think that Fletcher has helped me better understand this profound truth.

In addition to my little fair-haired mentor, the scriptures also demonstrate how this “preaching the gospel by doing nothing” comforts those in agony. Think about Job’s friends. They hear this horrible news about their friend, they come to see him, and things are so awful, that all they can do is sit there with Job in his pain (Job 2:11-13). As long as their mouths stayed closed, they comfort their beleaguered friend; but, as soon as they begin speaking, Job’s condition rapidly deteriorates.

As you think about the ways that you show the love of Jesus to your children, I want to encourage you to spend a portion of your week by preaching the gospel to them by “doing nothing.” They will love you for it, your spouse will think you are the best parent ever (which of course you are), and your Savior will smile and lovingly rain his grace down upon you.

~ Todd

Filed Under: Autism, humility, humor, intimacy, Parenting, Relationships, Uncategorized Tagged With: , , , ,

God’s Grace and Patient Zero

December 26, 2011 By Leave a Comment

The Hardin household is once again entering that special time of year. I am not talking about the Yuletide season; no, I am talking about the cold and flu season. What do I mean by that? Lets just say that our son Fletcher is a very giving young man, and it never fails that he “gifts” me at least one sickness during this time of year. You may be thinking, “If you know that this tends to happen every year, why don’t you do something about it?”

That is a good question, and its answer is slightly complicated. You see, there are several things about Fletcher, our relationship, and me that make my proclivity toward illness as predictable as Christmas falling on the 25th of December.

First, Fletcher deals with apraxia, a disorder in which he tends to put everything, and I mean everything, in his mouth. This of course means he tends to store germs in his jaws like a manic squirrel stores acorns on a late autumn day.

Second, although Fletcher is non-verbal, that does not mean he cannot communicate. Fletch tends to mimic Judge Reinhold’s guest character on the sitcom Seinfeld by being a “bit of a close talker.” Said another way, he often attempts to communicate with me by placing his forehead against mine while giggling joyously at one thing or another. This provides me with plenty of opportunities to receive anything that Fletch may have for me.

Third, Fletch demands that he and Dad have their “wrestle time” every single day. Now sometimes big brother Tucker stands in for me, but for the most part, Fletcher doesn’t feel complete until he and I have had our bonding time, a time that was so much easier for me when I was younger and he was smaller. His persistence in wrestling me cannot be avoided; he will grab me by the hand and pull me over on the couch until he has had his fill (usually around 15-20 minutes) of connected time with Dada.

Fourth, I have never met a cold virus that my body didn’t want to promote to a full-blown case of sinusitis. Whereas my little Patient Zero will bring a cold home, he rarely ceases to function at less than optimal speed for more than a day or so. Me on the other hand, will get really sick for a few days, the kind of sick where I find myself making deals with God much like Burt Reynolds’ character in the movie The End. You know what I am talking about, “God, if you allow me to breathe  through my nose again, I promise to give you 100% of everything I earn for the rest of my life!” You may be thinking, “If Fletcher makes you so sick, why do you go around him when you think he has a cold?”

There are three reasons:

1. I love my son. The Scriptures say, “love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:8). As I have grown in my relationship with Fletcher, I now have a slight appreciation for those pastors who ministered to afflicted people during times of plague and disease.

2. I love my God. When I interact with my disease-ridden little fellow I am serving him and meeting his emotional needs. I do this not only because he needs me, but also I do it because that is what I am supposed to do. Fletcher needs his “wrestle time” as badly as the wounded man needed the Good Samaritan’s compassion (Luke 10:30-37).

3. I trust my Jesus. Although I am the biggest wimp in the world when it comes to being ill, fortunately, I don’t have to rely upon my own strength during such times. Jesus’ words to Paul are Jesus’ words for me: “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me (2 Corinthians 12:9).” No matter what I am exposed to, I know that Christ will give me the grace to get through it, including anything that Fletch may give me.

With these things stated, I must go for now. I can hear Fletch’s fiendish laugh as he’s coming down the hall. It’s time for another round of wrestling. Before this impending Battle Royale, I need to go take another antibiotic because Fletch looks determined to win this time!

~ Todd

Filed Under: Autism, Challenge, Family, FUN, grace, humor, Parenting, Relationships, Trust Tagged With: , , , , , , ,

The Accidental Jokester

November 3, 2011 By 2 Comments

Humor is a funny thing. (You like what I did there?)

I realized recently that humor is one of the most unique of human expressions. It looks so much like something we’re born with: there are the funny people, and the un-funny people; the jokesters and the straight men. In truth, we learn humor. We acquire it over years spent in its practice and appreciation. A sense of irony, sarcasm or comedic timing isn’t necessarily an innate possession. And for the Aspies among us, none of these come easily – if at all.

For example, we learned the hard way not to use common figures of speech around our son, Noah. He was particularly troubled by “eyes in the back of my head.” So convincing was this colloquialism that he maintained a healthy perimeter around me at all times, striving for his best, least compulsive behavior because he was certain a ghoulish pair of peepers lay buried somewhere beneath my hair. “It’s just an expression,” we told him. (He’s now quick to use this phrase himself, but is sure to clarify for anyone listening, “Now remember, it’s just an expression!” Even this clarification is inherently Aspergian – his own mind-blindness prevents him from understanding that others ALREADY understand this figure of speech. As far as he’s concerned, the only true perspective is his own – even ignorant – one.)

Some of our earliest struggles with Noah involved his difficulty in distinguishing between when people were laughing because he’d said something funny, and when they were laughing to mock him. Whereas my daughter Grace is a card – gestures, postures, funny faces and slapstick – Noah is the accidental jokester. His inadvertent humor and its resulting laughter often startle him.

Case and point:

“I miss my five-year-old self.”

“I was born flapping.”

“It’s my destiny to bother Grace.”

Mom: “Noah, there are shavings all over your floor. Did you take the guinea pig out?” Noah: “I tried mom, but it was too risky.”

And one of my favorites: We are sitting on the pier in Duck, North Carolina enjoying an early dinner on the eve of Noah’s sixth birthday when two canoes cut the water in front of us, quick and silent as two minnows. Noah, given over to some particularly pressing galactic memory begins a recitation from “Star Wars: The Clone Wars” and raising a hand to the canoeists, proclaims, “Greetings! We come in peace, though we know you are from a warring planet!”

I think I spit cream of crab out my nose.

But for as many peals of laughter as he elicited, many tears were also shed. “You’re making fun of me!” he would wail. “Why are you laughing?!”

Let me assure you there is nothing so unpleasant as the pendulum sensation of swinging from amusement to anguish in four seconds flat. To feel as if you’ve emotionally battered your child simply by laughing at what you believed to be his intentional joke is about as loathsome as it gets.

We had to explain to Noah the subtleties of irony and sarcasm, what it meant to wait for a punch line, what a figure of speech was and how to identify one. Though I’m not one to trumpet its benefits, a great deal of Noah’s understanding came from watching television. Listening to jokes and laugh tracks – even watching his sister’s squeals of glee during “Phineas and Ferb” helped him better grasp what it meant to appreciate humor, and to be funny.

We now take Noah’s witticisms as an opportunity to remind him that laughter is not only good for the soul (Proverbs 17:22), but that the Lord has developed in him a wonderful sense of humor which is a blessing to others. “That was funny, Noah!” “You cracked us up!” To which he stiffens and flaps with glee – for Noah, about as happy as it gets.

- Sarah

Filed Under: Asperger, Autism, Change, Communication, Encouragement, FUN, humor, Parenting Tagged With: , , , , , , , ,

Splendor in the Gray

November 2, 2011 By 1 Comment

If you live in a family with hidden disabilities, you know how much we need comic relief in our lives. I love how God gives us those moments of hilarity just when we need them.

Sometimes, Jesus makes me laugh through my daughter as she navigates her life.

Sometimes, all He needs to make me laugh is me.

One Sunday morning at church, just before the service, I was washing my hands in the ladies’ restroom. I looked in the mirror and noticed I had some new gray hairs.

Now, I have many established gray hairs, and I tolerate them all right. But these particular gray hairs weren’t intermingling with my regularly-colored hair.

They were standing straight up in the air,
hanging down on my forehead,
pointing every direction they could to make them noticeable.

I started pulling out those offending hairs one by one.

I said to the ladies with me, “Maybe I should just leave them alone. Isn’t there a verse in the Bible that says gray hairs are a gift, or something like that?”

None of us knew which verse it was, or if that was one of those sayings which people attribute to the Bible but isn’t actually scriptural (e.g., “God helps those who help themselves.”) I threw the gray hairs in the trash can and headed to the church service.

Imagine my surprise
and delight!
and laughter
when my pastor started preaching: “What does the Bible say about aging?”

I felt totally hugged by God.

Most people don’t like to get old. Just that week, I admitted aloud, “I don’t want to be old.” My pastor didn’t know that. He was just preaching what God told him to preach. Ecclesiastes 12 has some interesting things to say, a little preview of the aging process.

It ain’t pretty.

God said to me in those few moments, “Get over it, Cassandra. Growing old is part of My plan. If you’ll stop kicking and screaming about it, the process will be a joy, not torture.”

The pastor  read Proverbs 16:31: “Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life.“  I wrote in my notes, “God says gray hair is cool!”

Then I remembered.

“Oh, no!,” I thought. “I just threw my splendor in the garbage!”

I can only hope that what they say is true:  for every gray hair I pull out, two gray hairs will replace it.

Letting the gray grow,

Cassandra

Filed Under: FUN, growth, humor Tagged With: ,

Trampolines Trump

October 7, 2011 By 1 Comment

“…teach the older women to be reverent in the way they live, not to be slanderers or addicted to much wine, but to teach what is good.” (Titus 2:3)

I just want to say a word about in-laws while I am going into all the other zones where angels fear to tread! I have a great mother-in-law. Although she does not hold to my Christian beliefs, she is cheerful, funny, compassionate, creative, highly intelligent and generous.  She never complains. She is also bi-polar, and has chosen not to take medication. As a result, she lives most of her life hypomanic, flying just below (or above) the radar of the mental health care system, employability, and all social norms.  Since time is very elastic to her (as with most unmedicated bi-polars I know) she cannot keep track of dates, days, nights, bills due, etc. So I am her Power of Attorney for finances and health care, which is to say, I pay her bills and take her to the doctor. What she does with the rest of her time is solely up to her, and I generally take an “if I don’t ask, she won’t tell” approach to her activities since some fall into the irreverent category.

A few months ago she called. “Joan … thsomethings wrong wi me…” her speech was slurred and I was alarmed. She’s the most active, healthy 75 year old I know.  By the time I got to her, it was obvious she was having a stroke. As fast as you can rush someone who is having a stroke (which is to say that time stood still) we raced to the ER. As always, it was eventful on more than one level. When you have a loved one with a hidden disability, and they have another medical event occur, you STILL have a loved with a hidden disability – you do NOT get to check the disability at the door so you can face one thing at a time. And usually the medical event itself exacerbates the hidden disability because of fear or pain. (Which, I might add, tend to highlight everyone’s personal challenges.)

SOOOO, she told the ER doctor (and will happily tell you) that we are ALL bi-polar because we live on planet earth, which is BI-polar, in case they hadn’t noticed, since it has a north POLE and south POLE = BI-P-O-L-A-R.  I just loved watching the triage nurse triage that. Later, when the neurologist asked her to walk across the floor (to check her gait) she belly-danced, and I do mean that literally. I guarantee you her brief 18 hour hospital stay added color and variety to everyone’s shifts!

Although she was terrified to submit herself to the money hungry corporate medical system, she did let them evaluate her for one brief night – and only because she loves me, she declared. I don’t take her fears or her trust lightly. I know she would lay down her life for me. How many daughter-in-laws are convinced of that?

Since then, she jumps 30 minutes on our trampoline each evening, at dusk, to increase her circulation. She sometimes strips down because she gets hot. I have to say, that did startle our dinner guests the other night. Some things you can’t explain, so I didn’t. But I hope I am that active at 75.

I have dear friends with mother-in-laws who hurt them, whether intentionally or not. (As a new mother-in-law, this scares me.) Gossip travels fast, especially criticism of young parenting or marriages. Some wives feel discouraged and stabbed in the back. It puts my own situation in a rather good light. I’ll take my trampoline-jumping-bipolar in-law. Trampolines trump treachery :)

Grateful for the one God gave me,

Joan

Filed Under: Bipolar Disorder, Extended family, Gratitude, humor, mental illness Tagged With: , , , ,

Fun one-liner

September 29, 2011 By 1 Comment

I have to keep reminding Daniel (17, autism) that people laugh sometimes when things are not funny. In most cases, with him, I can’t help laughing when he says something delightful. And I’m always met with, “I’m SERIOUS, Mom!”

Like when we were talking a few days ago about what game he might get to play when we go to The Price is Right for his 18th birthday next year, a gameshow fanatic’s dream.

“Mom, I wonder what game I will get to play when I go to The Price is Right.”

“I don’t know. I hope it’s not that one you hate, Cliffhanger. That would be a bummer, to wait all these years to get on the show, and they say, ‘Daniel Monahan, come on down!’ And you win the item up for bids, and they call you onstage to play a game you don’t like. And you’ll be like, ‘I HATE that game, can’t I play something else?’”

“MOM, you can’t SAY that when you are onstage!”

“I know. But maybe you could pray about it. God listens to prayers like that.”

“I know. But the producers probably don’t.”

(Mom’s delighted laugh)

“MOM, I’M SERIOUS!”

~ Peggy

Filed Under: Autism, humor, Parenting Tagged With: , ,

Sometimes Bob eats at our house

September 26, 2011 By Leave a Comment

Table manners are not a strong suit for my son. He tends to be a picky eater. But on occasion, when he enjoys his food the noises he makes can make me a little crazy. It reminds me of the movie, What About Bob, starring Bill Murray as Bob.

Sometimes I sit through lunch and can see this scene from the movie in my mind. It helps to find humor instead of worrying so much about teaching proper table manners.

I will keep trying to teach good table manners. But sometimes I just have to let it go and be glad he enjoys his meal.

Smiling,

~ Hannah

Filed Under: humor, Parenting, Teenager Tagged With: , ,

Then Cami Said…

June 27, 2011 By Leave a Comment

We watch “The Land Before Time” at our house. A lot. We have seen every installment of the movie franchise, and own a great many of them ourselves. (I think they’re on number 14 or something ridiculous like that.)

Cartoon Network now shows a daily installment of this Cami-loved cartoon. I’ve set the DVR to record each episode. We watched the first one and had an insightful conversation.

Cera, the triceratops, was talking to her dad about a game all the little dinosaurs wanted to play. The game was called Log Running. It’s a race to see who could stay running on the log the longest while floating in the water. Cera’s dad had told her that triceratops can do anything they set their minds to. Then, when he heard about the Log Running game, he told her, “Forget about playing that game, Cera. Three-horns can’t do that.”

Cami said, “Uh oh. Cera’s going to disobey her dad.”

I said, “Yeah? What do you think will happen?”

Cami said, “Well, when you disobey, things always get worse.” I thought this insight was profound.

Then Cami said, “That’s why I obey sometimes.”

Oh, Cami, my Cami.

Filed Under: grace, growth, humor Tagged With: , ,

…..and then there’s bedtime

June 16, 2011 By Leave a Comment

I love my kids. That might seem a bit obvious, but I am starting on a positive. This should be a positive sandwich kind of blog, right? As in, start with a positive, CONSTRUCTIVELY complain in the middle, and end with a positive. Sound good? 

Parenting isn’t an easy job. Again, another obvious statement. At my house, there are 2-five year olds and 1-six year old with Tourette Syndrome and OCD. OK, so my job might be slightly more challenging than the average parenting gig, but I give credit to all the parents out there. NOT EASY.

So on any given day, any combination of the 3 little people in my house might wake up in a good mood, a bad mood, a defiant mood, or a whiny mood. Especially with G-man, any little bump in the road or change of carefully-laid plan might change aforementioned great mood into aforementioned bad mood, terrible mood, or all out HORRIBLE bad mood. Mood swings at my house are common, minimally controllable, and in multiples of 3 (which really is exponential, and not just a multiple of 3).

So there’s the middle of the sandwich. The meaty complaint. Now the constructive part.

I dance, I sing, I entertain, I attempt a routine. I make careful plans, and I try to stick to them. I will do ANYTHING to keep the natives from getting restless. I plan fun activities as much as possible, and will do anything to elicit a smile. Really they are pretty happy, good-natured children. And I really do enjoy them! But they are children. When things go terribly awry, I can whip out some pretty hefty hostage negotiation skills. I can talk or tickle my way out of some pretty serious preschool angst. 

So by the end of the day, I have played chauffeur, alarm clock, short order cook, laundry maid, nurse, boo-boo kisser, maid, dishwasher, clothes sorter, Barbie shoe-finder, T-Rex dinosaur chaser, tent erector, referee, policeman…. and on, and on, and on….  and done it with a smile…

I am EXHAUSTED!  And thankfully, there’s bedtime. When there’s three sets of hugs and three sets of kisses; three nite-nite prayers and three tuck-ins.

I love my kids.

Filed Under: Encouragement, General, Gratitude, humor, Parenting, rest, Tourette Syndrome Tagged With: , , , ,
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