Photographer in Training

Last fall, I handed Jackson my camera.  And even though the camera was almost as big as he was, he still managed to take a well-composed, in focus head shot of me.  My interest (and his) was piqued. 

So while we toured the Smoky Mountains last week, I thought I would let him give it another go.  I controlled the settings, while I let him concentrate on composition and learning how to focus and manage the camera.  He thinks he is something else when he gets to hold my camera.    

He only took a few shots, but he managed to get the majority of them in focus, which is a feat when holding a camera that large.  I picked out some of my favorites.  

(Ignore the road weary look in this last one!)

I think he has a bit of potential, but I'm his Momma of course.  What say you?  :)

I'm Tired

Disclaimer:  This post is a selfish pity party.  I will complain, I will gripe, I will vent.  I simply need to let this all go so that I don't go crazy on myself.  If you don't like whining, you might want to skip this post.



I am tired.

I don't even know what else to say anymore but that.  I am simply tired.  None of the things that I have to do as a special needs mom is especially hard, but when you add them all up, and throw in the monotony of it all, it just wears a person down after a number of years.

Anything is endurable for a season.  You think to yourself, "I got this, it's only for X amount of time."  But as I look into the future, I don't see relief.  I see it getting harder.  I see Brian and me getting older, and I see Clayton's needs increasing.  And I get tired all over again.

I am tired of something as simple as jumping in the car and running to the store being an ordeal.  Yes, I get jealous of the other 90% of the population who can trust their kids to get themselves into the car, buckle up, and not have to worry about loading and unloading a chair.

I am tired of looking at everything through "wheelchair eyes."  I am tired of seeing stairs, obstacles, and going "around."  I am tired of the separation from the rest of the group that a wheelchair forces in many situations.  (And if I'm tired of it, how annoyed Clayton must be?!)

I am SICK and tired of therapy.  Our entire schedule revolves around therapy, which is imperative to Clayton's well-being.  BUT DANG.  IT. GETS. OLD.  It interrupts our school day, field trips, and a normal "homeschool" routine.  Not to mention the drama that we deal with at the clinic.  UGH.

I am tired of lifting.  My shoulder hurts.  My back hurts.  I am tired of planning my steps and the logistics of things by how many times I'm going to have to lift Clayton.

I am tired of planning the logistics of shielding Clayton's bathroom issues from other people (mainly kids).  The older he gets, the harder it is, and I flat out don't know how we'll be able to do it when he's 20.  And there's only a select number of people who I trust to help me with that issue, and I hate to even ask most of them.

I am tired of watching other couples around us plan things for themselves, since childcare is relatively simple for them.  I am tired of watching the clock if I do drop Clayton off anywhere because I know the person that does keep him can't do the above mentioned lifting and/or bathroom things for very long.

I am tired of feeling guilty for feeling tired!  The moment I start getting on one of these pity parties,  I immediately remind myself that life without these problems would mean life without Clayton.  And I can't even bear that thought!!!  I just wish I could shake this funk that I am in!   I so wish God would show me something that reminds me that He is working it out.  My mind knows He is, but my heart simply isn't feeling it right now.