Pretend

I LOVE his imagination!

Possibly Will's very favorite thing to play is "pretend."  He spends hours in character and proceeds to carry on conversations and even adopt vocabulary similar to what his created character might use.

I recently tried to capture as many of his characters as I could.  I forgot to photograph some but here's a small sampling over the course of about 4 days:

Will the cowboy:

 Will the construction worker

 Sir William

 Officer Will

 Captain Will

 Chef Tony

 Sir William (at a local Renaissance Faire.  That was quite an experience.  I'll post soon.)

Love his imagination and how with only a few pieces, he can transform his world into whatever it is he desires to be for that moment.

I could listen to him play pretend for hours (& often do.)

Not Your Ordinary Spring Lemonade Stand

Saturday, Will held his annual lemonade & Cookie's cookies lemonade stand at my parent's house.

He raised money to benefit our local Children's Miracle Network.  

(Will & Ellie are this year's Miracle Children!  More to come soon about this incredible organization.)

When I was a kid, we used to hold lemonade & cookie stands all the time.  My parents' home sits on a beautiful street and this time of year they get a lot of tourists looking at the historic homes and spring blooms.  Seriously, there are busloads of tourists on the weekends!

So - there is great potential for lemonade sales.

But in all my years of selling famous cookies and mediocre lemonade, never once did the 

ENTIRE POLICE FORCE AND AMBULANCE EMT CREW COME!

Not once.

But for Will?

Oh, they came.

They came in full force!

Saturday morning, Will's Cookie & Lovie picked him up to go meet Larry Boy (a Veggie Tales superhero) who was making an appearance at a local Christian bookstore.  Will was armed with a Larry Boy book and a sharpie for his autograph. 

While Larry Boy was cool - he was nowhere near as cool as the police officers also in the store...

(& it just so happened that Will had dressed up as a police officer that morning - he had no idea what was in store for his day!)

(I love the face that he is in some sort of costume every single day!)

 Larry Boy did not get a Will hug.

This guy did.

 Somehow, in the course of their conversation about important police matters, the sergeant found out about the upcoming lemonade stand.  

And apparently, he then got on his radio and made an announcement to all on duty police officers, firemen, & EMTs as to the location of the sale.

Then things got really exciting.

Will was made an official officer and the policemen called him "Officer Will."

They let him get in the various cars (there were several at a time pulled up in front of the house) and test out the microphone, alarms, sirens, and lights.

It was a little boy's dream come true!

(I kept expecting neighbors to start calling wondering what in the world was going on at my parents' house!  We did see some potential customers make u-turns when they saw a street crowded with police cars with flashing lights and an ambulance! No worries, though, this was so much more exciting!)

 

Will served each of his customers a famous cookie and fresh lemonade.  Cookie stayed busy making more cookies - we never expected this rush of important community helpers!

 It was cool to get in the back of a real ambulance (and not be injured or sick)

(He also got in the back of a police car.  I told him this better be his only time back there.)

There were lots of high fives

 and hugs

 Ellie wasn't scared at all from the uniforms or the sirens

 Even our neighborhood grocery store managers stopped by with a generous donation!

 In between exciting new customers in uniform, we picnicked on the front lawn.

Doesn't Ellie look adorable wearing my old overalls?!

 This officer is new on the force.  Will told her he is new too - he informed her he has only been on the force for a month.

 This officer is our new friend.  She has a four year old and is coming to picnic with us this week.

(Also - she just happens to be the officer who caught a real life bank robber last week at gunpoint!  We got to hear the story & Will was fascinated - he has been playing a lot of bank robbers and policemen recently.)

(She will be a fun picnic guest with lots of fun stories, I think!)

 We heard a loud noise & then this guy showed up...

 Will loves motorcycle men & does a hilarious impression of them.

A motorcycle man who happens to be a policeman is the icing on the cake!

 He fitted the newest officer with a helmet

 and let him take a (pretend) spin!

 Will had fun playing with his sirens & radar

 Then, the officer called the dispatcher on the radio and had Will introduce himself on the radio as "Officer Will."  The dispatcher went right along with it and talked back to him over the radio, closing with a "10-4, Officer Will."

I mean... WOW!

 Finally, this trusting officer allowed Will to handcuff him.

 Which Will proceeded to do all by himself.

Finally, Will found the keys and released him before serving him lemonade.

It was a very successful lemonade stand!  He made a lot of money and had a blast.  

Thanks to our local police and EMTs for making a little boy have an extraordinary day!

Thank you for serving our community so faithfully and for serving one little boy especially yesterday.

(As a sidenote- we have a sheriff election coming up and Will has been rather upset at all the political signs in people's yards.  He thinks he will be the next sheriff so he doesn't appreciate the competition.  Especially the green signs and the ones with the star on them.  (There's a lot of those two.)  He wants to go vote with me and I assured him I will take him to meet the new sheriff so he can check out the office.  

One of the officers yesterday invited Will up to the station to see the police department, the SWAT armored cars, and more!  He is going to have a fun little field trip soon!)

After the stand closed, we headed to the pool for our first swim of the year... in March!

The water was too chilly for Ellie - she loved kicking (& wanted in but I wouldn't let her.)

 Will was so happy to be back in the water... my little fish

A PERFECT way to spend a Saturday morning!

(Thanks, Cookie & Lovie for hosting, setting up the sale, and spreading the word!  We appreciate you!)

On the Other Side of the Table

I often saw it as an inconvenience.  I must have glanced at my watch numerous times as I hoped I would have some conference time left over to grade a stack of papers or run some copies or even just use the restroom before I completed teaching that day.  I would sit there respectfully and nod my head in agreement with whatever the other, more experienced, certainly wiser real professionals had to say.

Only once did I remember really paying attention to the mother sitting there.  Of course, there was a parent there every time - I just regarded that as their parental duty.  I probably didn't give them much thought - I certainly never felt my heart tug at what a difficult conversation it must be to sit through as a mama, listening to us - who spent very little time with their child offer our "expert" opinions and our standardized test results.

I wasn't a mommy yet.  I had absolutely no idea.  I really had very little compassion.  In fact, I was completely self-centered.

I only really noticed one mommy in all my years of sitting on that side of the table.  I don't remember her name although I remember her son's name and where he sat in my seventh period government class full of high school seniors.  He was a stellar student - really an ideal kind of kid to have in one's class - especially in 7th period the spring semester of a senior year.  And his mama?  I remember sitting at that table, as we dismissed her son from receiving services, and hearing others praise her.  Her son wanted to work at a local business to receive hours for one of his classes.  His mom made it possible.  Apparently, the business would not have hired him on his own (even though I think it was actually volunteer work.)  But that mom?  She not only drove him there each time but she stayed there as her son's assistant so that they would allow him to do that job and he would receive his credit.  She served her son.  She served him.
I am confident today he is a success at whatever he chose to do with his life.  I know his mama is proud of him.  I am sure she is finding other ways to serve her son because that is the kind of mom she is.

I don't know her.  At the time, I remember thinking I wanted to be a mom like her someday.  I wish I would have written her a note - to tell her so.  But of course, while I wanted to be a mom like her, I never would have thought that I would actually have an opportunity to be a mom like her... having a child with special needs or a disability or difference never crossed my naive mind.

I sat at that meeting.  I sat on the other side of the table.  I sat there, just months away from becoming a mama myself, pregnant with Will and completely unaware of the turns my life would soon take.  I sat there, admiring her, and yet it never crossed my mind that I might someday sit in her chair, that I might someday learn what it means to really serve my children.

Today, I think if I were teaching, and if I found the little slip in my box in my box instructing me to be at that table again, I would take whatever mom was there flowers from my garden.  Or maybe I would bake her some cookies.  Or perhaps I would just write her a little note - just a little something to let her know I actually see her.  Hopefully, I wouldn't resent being there or glance at my watch or feel as though I had more important things to do with my day.  As if that child and his education wasn't the foremost priority of my day.

I regret my insensitivity (although I kept my feelings to myself - I regret that my heart and my mind were often not on the meeting but on my to do list.)  I regret my selfishness.

Today, I will sit on the other side of the table.  The rather lonely side.  I will sit and look at all those professionals - the principal, the occupational therapist, the speech therapist, the physical therapist, the diagnostician, and the teacher who has never met my child.

I will sit and look at all these people who certainly care about my child and his education but who don't see all the things I see.  They couldn't possibly know that his imagination is limitless.  Limitless.  They don't know that he can spout off facts about the medieval times or the Bible, or dinosaurs or animals.  They don't know that he can read very simple beginning books or that his memory forgets nothing.  They don't know he is doing simple math in his head or that he can smile despite initial concerns that he might never smile.  They don't know him.    They don't know he can paint and color and that his favorite thing to draw is a whale.  They don't know his laugh is contagious and that he is ticklish everywhere but especially on his thighs and ribs.  They don't know he is affectionate and loves to be hugged and kissed. They don't know he is social and needs to be around people.  They don't know he creates games and he tells the kids (often older than him) what role they should play and they listen to him and follow his lead. They don't really know my child.

They see his diagnosis.  That's their job.

It's mine to serve him.  To help them see the child.

And to somehow reconcile what I know of him with what they believe will best help him move forward in school, to be a success.

This time, I hope I don't fail him.  I want the world for him and I believe in him.

As I sit there, across from so many who don't really know him offer their suggestions and  their evaluation results, I hope I can focus on what I know of my child.  That I can discern what will be best for his education and what might actually hinder him.  I hope I can remember that these professionals are really my allies - that they want success for my child.  I hope I can remember that any discouraging evaluation results can really just be good motivators for reaching more goals.  I hope I can change my perspective to see goals not as something requiring more work but as opportunities to grow, chances to depend on God and to glorify Him in our story.  I hope someone on the team catches my eye - and acknowledges  that, yes, it is hard to sit on this side of the table, it is difficult for any parent - a reality check, really, to recognize that my child has a diagnosis and may have difficulty with things in school and we must advocate for him.

Today, I'm sitting on the other side of the table.  I'm attending my first ARD.  I'm hoping to advocate for my child's educational rights- and he is not even in school yet.  I'm putting my heart out on the table today.  My heart - my little boy.  My boy who will someday be a senior too and will be graduating school to do whatever his little heart dreams of (today, if you ask him, he plans on being a Daddy, a policeman, Batman, a knight, and also a doctor.  I have no doubt he will be successful.)  And I will listen to others assess what my little heart is capable of.  And I'll go with my gut and pray for discernment and wisdom and hope and encouragement.   And I'll look each of them in the eye - those professionals on the other side of the table, the side I once sat on.  I'll look at them and I'll remind them of who my child is - and all I know he will be.  And I'll try to have gratitude for individuals who make it their passion to help children like mine receive an equal education.  Above all else, I am determined to have hope.

And because I know that sometimes dealing with the reality of a diagnosis and hearing others place limits or modifications on my child can be painful, I will also likely have a glass of wine and some chocolate and a good, hard cry to go along with my side of hope and gratitude.

Go Will Go! Running the Race!

We had a wild and crazy weekend last weekend.  Company was on their way to town for our kids' dedication at church and I was preparing our home and table for a celebration meal.

When we learned that our guests would not be arriving until later on Saturday, we decided to participate in one of our favorite community races.

I woke the kids up way too early and we headed to the starting line.

First up - Will in the kids race!

waiting for his group to start...

and a little nervous

 And he's off!

Go Will Go!

 About halfway, I noticed his face contort into sadness... I think he realized he wasn't winning the race.

Of course - no other child out there had to run with 2.5lb each weights on their legs or legs that added a few inches to their actual height.  Nor was it grouped by age so there were several bigger kids in his group.

My mama heart nearly ripped into two and my screams and cheers got louder in an effort that everyone around me would hear his name and cheer him on and that maybe that would boost his spirits...

what else could I do?

 Until he ran through this and burst in to a huge smile as he received a medal.

I'm so so proud of my boy.

 He is so very brave.  It takes such guts to put himself out there among kids (& adults) who don't know him.  He knows each time he goes into public that someone (or many people) will stare, someone will point, someone will ask him about his hands and feet.  He knows he sometimes has a hard time keeping up when he wears prosthetics.  (I was tempted to let him run without them because he is so stinking fast without them... but got nervous about him running barefooted on the street.  Maybe next year.)

Yet he puts his fears and nerves aside and he just goes for it.

His courage inspires me every day.

 And my hears bursts with pride in my son - not because he crossed the finish line strong (although I'm so proud of him for that) but because he gets out there and tries.  I'm proud because he does his best.  Every single time, he does his best.

And I'm proud because he chooses joy.

And I don't take it for granted one single second that my boy RAN across that finish line... 

a boy missing feet who uses prosthetics.

He RAN.  That is my miracle.

Giving his little buddy, Hutch, a high five

 Showing off his medal

 Will's biggest cheerleader

 Making funny faces at the runners

 and looking cute

(Next year, it is my dream that she too can participate in the kids' race.  She may be the only one out there with a walker but so what... my girl is going to walk someday!)

 Cookie & Mr. W crossing the line

 Will & Ellie & I running together in the fun run

 Headed towards the finish line (Will's second finish line crossing of the day!)

 Cheering for Cookie!

 Meanwhile, while we were running races, Daddy was riding a 53 mile bike race!

He is training to do a 150 mile race next month so this was a good training distance for him.

He stated it was the most beautiful ride he has ever done!

The kids and I raced to get there for his finish but due to some miscommunication, we ended up at the wrong location and missed his big finish.

So we cheered for him in a field/race parking lot.

 I'm so proud of both of my boys!